Ok, confession time, to this day I have NEVER picked up a Narnia book. If I mix up any details up or do something wrong please forgive me. This is based off the Prince Caspian movie and I'm completely winging Caspian's age (I'm guessing around 16 our 17). Also, I'm trying out a pairing that I haven't yet seen in this fandom simply because I have a soft spot for underappreciated characters like Glozelle and I figured I'd give the poor guy his honor (and his balls) back. This will contain 'underage' because as I stated above, Caspian is probably around 16 or 17 and Glozelle is about 30 (it's hard to tell with the handsome Italians these days lol) If you don't like that king of stuff, hit the "Back" button on your computer. There will be 'adult scenes' in here because I hardly write anything else and there's also minor 'Non Con' scenes but for those of you who have never read my fics before rest assured I never do anything extreme or write graphic details. I do not believe in turning that topic into smut.

Now that I'm done talking, enjoy! And remember, if any of this wiggles you out, LEAVE! Flamers will be exploited without mercy Mwhahaha….

Chapter 1 (Prologue)

Peter cursed silently as he used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the tears from his cheek. They had been threatening to fall ever since he'd returned to Aslan's How from Miraz's castle and it took all his willpower to keep them from showing until he managed to sneak away into one of the many tunnels and away from sight. The Narnians were already demoralized enough as it was, they didn't need to see their King in tears, sobbing like a twelve year old. Even though he knew no one on the ranks would blame him, the loss was hard on all of them.

The blond bit his lower lip in anger as he felt his eyes water once again. The images of the Narnians staring at him through the gate and their frightened voices calling out to him would forever haunt him; he could feel it deep down inside of his chest. If Caspian would have awoken his uncle and set off the alarm, all of them would still be alive. As if that deed alone wasn't horrible enough, Caspian had even considered calling upon the White Witch for aid. If he knew the stories so well then wouldn't he have known how dangerous she was and what restoring her to Narnia would mean? Wasn't it bad enough that Caspian's foolishness cost half of the Narnian Army their lives?

Peter hung his head on his knee and sniffed. His eyes burned and his chest felt three sizes too tight, but somewhere in the back of his mind he felt somewhat relieved that he had gotten all the crying out of his system. But, he still didn't feel ready enough to leave the safety of the deserted tunnel he disappeared down a few short hours ago; he was more then content to stay huddled in his torch lit corner away from Narnian –– and Caspian's— eyes, or worse, his sibling's.

Edmond knew he wanted to be left alone, his little brother had followed his steps closely ever since the spat with Caspian, and only left him alone when ordered. But, as Peter set off towards his hiding place he could still see Edmond lingering around the tunnel's entrance waiting for him. The gesture humbled the High King slightly, and even though the older brother knew he should be grateful for the comfort, he dismissed it. For once, he figured he had a right to sit in the dark and sulk, if only for a few minutes.

A part of him wondered if Caspian was doing the same, while the other part or him hoped the idiot was balling his eyes out too, then he wouldn't feel so bad about doing it. After all, it was all his fault...

Peter groaned and lightly thumped his head against his knee. That was a lie and the adult part of him knew it. True, Caspian blew their cover but he still had plenty of time to call the attack off and he didn't. The realization brought more tears to his eyes and with another groan; Peter curled his legs closer to his chest.

The torch anchored on the wall above his head suddenly extinguished and Peter quickly snapped his head up, his blue eyes franticly scanning the growing darkness around him. He couldn't feel a breeze in the tunnel and only a severe gust of wind could blow out a torch that quickly.

Peter slowly pushed himself to his feet and his fingers instantly wound around the handle of his sword. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and a cold shiver crawled its way down his back; something was in the tunnel with him, he knew it. He listened carefully with his ears, but he couldn't hear a single sound other then his own breathing, no wind, no footsteps, nothing.

Wearily, Peter's fingers unwound from the sword's hilt and fell to his side. Maybe he was over reacting; it could have been that the flame on the torch was exhausted. After all, these tunnels were safe, the Narnians patrolled its vast length regularly, so the odds of something or someone from the outside entering the tomb were slim at best. These tunnels were safe.

A quick moment later the torch above his head re-lit, casting a heavy golden glow upon the tunnel's thick walls. A man stood an arm length away from him and Peter couldn't help gasping from the sight and taking a step back.

His eyes never left the man in front of him as he carefully took in the stranger's appearance. He was tall with much wider shoulders then Peter had, and while the stranger seemed to look human, his eyes gave the impression he was something else entirely. His left eye was a deep, honey brown color while his right eye – Peter couldn't help another deep swallow as he looked at it- was a rich dark blue and it's pupil wasn't circler like a human's but rather a tear shaped slit that looked cat-like. His ears had tipped edges to them with long strands of dark, amber hair pushed back behind them neatly.

"Who- who are you?" The young King asked, his fingers once again curling around the sword's handle.

The figure – Peter couldn't bring himself to admit it was human from its looks alone- blinked and used a long, finger-nailed hand to brush a dark strand of hair over his shoulder.

"I've had many names through out the course of history, Son of Adam, but you may call me Ambrose."

A deep, blue glint flashed in his right eye and Peter felt a cold sensation touch his body. It traveled down his neck, and to his right arm, making his fingers involuntarily loosen around the sword's hand and drop to rest motionlessly at his side.

(What's…going…on?)

The chill then spread through out his entire body, making him shutter and back towards the wall. Ambrose stepped closer to him, a cold grin curving his pale lips.

"Feeling strange young King?"

Peter gasped no louder then a whisper when he felt one of Ambrose's hands touch his chest softly. The touch warmed his cold body immensely, and without his consent, Peter felt his body respond heavily to it. Ambrose didn't seem at all surprised by this. His long fingers traced along Peter's chest slowly, drawing deep, shuttering shivers from the teen before moving downwards and settling on the thick leather straps that secured the teen's sword. With quick movements, the fingers unclasped the buckle and Peter's eyes widened when he heard the sound of his sword falling heavily against the hard, stone floor.

"Stop, what are—?"

Suddenly realizing that this man- thing- was disarming him, Peter attempted to struggle away from him, but Ambrose's long fingers curled tightly around his neck before he could move.

"Now, now, little one, be calm."

Ambrose's blue eye flashed once again, the glint was momentarily reflected back in the boy's eyes for Ambrose to see before Peter felt his strength leave him as the coldness in his body deepened. It occurred to him the heavy chill in his body was brought on by the stranger's eye; it held some magical force to it. Ambrose seemed to sense his realization and another cold grin came to surface.

"It's been so long since a Son of Adam has walked these halls…and now you're mine."

Ambrose's mouth pressed against Peters roughly, making the young King cry out in surprise, but his scream was fully muffled and soon grew silent in the vast length of the stone tunnel.

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