Disclaimer (for the whole story): all rights belong to C. S. Lewis

Special thanks to Elrond's Scribe for betareading this chapter.

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It is a very weird thing that the more concerns you have, the more you get lost in minor details, as if your mind refuses to focus on what is troubling you.

Drinian felt he couldn't even start thinking about how to make such a choice between Rilian and Caspian, and while his mind was stormed by grim thoughts of an uncertain future, he couldn't help but count his irregular heartbeats, which were resounding in his ears. Drinian couldn't help but count the unnaturally loud thumpings of his own heart even as his mind was assailed by doubt - how could he choose between King Caspian and Prince Rilian?

Along with his heart, time was running and growing short, too. It ran and Drinian knew he would never be able to chase it. Soon it would be nightfall, and in the morning the Prince would leave again, most likely alone, to visit that shining green woman. There was a stronger smell of danger and lies and treason and magic about that mysterious lady than he had ever smelled before, even during his voyage as Captain on the Dawn Treader: places such as Deathwater and the Dark Island could not compete with this lady, whom his fair Prince seemed attracted to. He couldn't let harm come to his friend, but then nothing had happened to him so far. In fact, the Lord Drinian was quite relieved Rilian was not out for the venomous worm's blood anymore. This woman, though... sure, there was a remote possibility of him being too suspicious, but his instincts told him something different.

And what would his Lord the King think of this? Caspian X was Drinian's friend and, most importantly, the Prince's father... He probably had the right to know... But know what? That one of his Counselors had decided to betray his son's trust?

Discouraged, the Lord sat on a chair with a heavy sigh and then immediately got up again, and started to restlessly pace the length of his room, his boots creaking against the floor.

A choice was required from him, a choice between two equally dear friends...

He walked over to the desk, where his usual bottle of liquor, just brought by a servant, sat. Normally, he would have sipped the drink examining some parchments, reading some old logbooks or retracing the ancient routes on his beloved navigation charts, but not tonight. He poured himself a glass, and then forgot it on the desk, so many were the thoughts that burdened his mind.

He looked around at the maps hanging off the wall: he hated being without a compass and not knowing neither the goal nor the route. To aggravate the situation, the sky was pitch black, without stars. The stars had always been his best friend while sailing: a ship, he himself at the helm... he did not ask for more. Nothing could compare to the open sea.

He stared at the door longingly, hoping that, even if the answer to his doubts was not mapped out, it nevertheless could be supplied through a note, perhaps by Aslan Himself. He snorted at himself and idly wondered whether and how a lion could write. A little smile played on his lips, as he thought it would be nice to have a correspondence with Aslan.

Still smiling, he decided to quit torturing himself and that some sleep was in order. But the soft bed, that he had spent so many nights trying to avoid, for the duty claimed him, tonight didn't seem inviting and tempting, but mocking. Sleep would have hastened the arrival of the next day, something he could not afford. He did not know what to do about Rilian or Caspian yet, and somehow he felt that everything had to be decided tonight. He wished he had dreamed of the Great Lion.

He felt as if on the eve of a great battle, but contrary to custom, he could not sleep in peace knowing that the morning sun would bring victory to the Narnians. There were no battle plans prepared this time... He only knew he would fight and most likely would lose, regardless. He would lose a friend, he would lose a Prince's or a King's trust. And he valued both of them.

He moved so that he was now lying on his right side, but not even his favorite position would bring him sleep. He felt pins under his body; his heart was still racing. He tried to lie on his left side but compressing the beating of his heart did nothing to slow it down. He could not sleep, could not...

He had already set his mind on this decision several times, resolving to tell everything to Caspian and then changing his mind a minute later, accusing himself of being a blab and a tale-bearer and behaving like a Marsh-wiggle ... He suppressed a chuckle at the thought of being compared to the sobering Narnians ... He, who had never been pessimistic...

Why had he been involved in this situation, however? Well, he had never been able to resist the prince.

A nine-year-old Rilian shamelessly rushed in Drinian's study, without even knocking, but slamming the door to announce his presence. Not that he had to... The Lord was too fond of the young boy to let himself be bothered by this useless detail. He knew the Prince had lost his poor nurse once again: for some reason he had chosen the Captain as his companion some time ago and hadn't given up since then. As much as the man liked the child, today he had some important letters to write and couldn't spend time with Caspian's son, who was looking at him with hopeful eyes.

"I apologize, my prince, but some important matters claim my attention today"

"But who is more important? I or your letters?"

"Rilian, listen," the Lord hesitated, unsure and unwilling to hurt the boy.

"Exactly," the young child said triumphantly, "Rilian is more important".

Drinian sighed fondly. "By the Lion's mane, young Prince, your Rhetoric tutor has done his work too well!"

Rilian proudly smiled and stated: "As your future King, I order you to come and play with me". He grabbed the Lord's sleeve and started to pull him towards the door.

And the funniest was that Drinian didn't mind at all. He let the Prince drag him outside, in the gardens. But once they were there, the future King didn't stop until they reached the borders of the forest, then looked around uncertainly.

"My lord," he began "since no one is looking, I believe we shall leave this castle and leave for an adventure in the wood. I know there is a river further down and I really wish to sail, like you and my father the Seafarer did. This was how he knew my mother. One day, I'll leave too, and come back with my Lady Queen!"

Unwillingly tearing himself from this memory, he ran his hand through his still dark hair, wondering why it was so black for it had many reasons to become at least grey... Rilian had always been up to something, and Drinian always ended up involved in the Prince's plan, his yearning to explore. He couldn't imagine where the lad got it from. Well, his bet was on Caspian. He really couldn't see his gracious Queen, in whose veins the blood of the stars flowed, in any sort of trouble.

The Captain stood by the shore of the river, alone. Rilian was missing. He had raced Drinian to the river, but made him close his eyes to give him a head start. When the Captain had snapped his eyes open few moments later, the boy was nowhere in sight. Little footprints were clearly visible, though, and he had followed them until the river, where he had stopped and paled with fear, his heart beating wildly, as the tracks disappeared. He had followed the river and fortunately found the wet Prince sitting on a stone, a wet trunk behind him.

"I apologize, Drinian, but you didn't come and when I saw this trunk being carried by the water, I used it to sail. It was amazing! There were no Queens or stars, though..."

Rilian was there, the Prince was alive and well, Drinian tried to reassure himself. And when the boy's lips curved upwards, that bright and not so innocent grin was all that mattered.

Regardless, the memory left him thoughtful, not only because that time he had almost lost the heir to the throne, but also because Rilian's words didn't leave him alone. What if the Prince hadn't forgotten about his own plan of coming back with his Queen and wished to...

Suddenly he felt the urge to leave his chamber. So he rose with an abrupt movement and, wrapping his robe, made his way through the halls, occasionally meeting some guards who were patrolling, but none stopped him.

While walking, he questioned himself about the memory. Why had it come back to him right now? Did it mean to calm him down, by saying that the Prince would always find himself? Or did it mean to warn him? That time he had followed the river. Should he follow his own instinct now?

After some wandering, he found himself standing by the library.

Hesitantly, he opened the quite heavy doors.

He lit a candle and started going through some books, until he got his hands on a manuscript, tracing Narnian history until the voyage to the Eastern End of the of the World.

Suddenly Drinian remembered Rynelf's words, Reepicheep's wise words, his own words, when another member of the royal family, no less than the King himself, and not a "mere" Prince, had been about to give in to the temptation of a pleasure, which would have deprived Narnia of her rightful ruler.

"... And if your Majesty will not hear reason it will be the truest loyalty of every man on board to follow me in disarming and binding you till you come to your senses."*

No, history would not repeat itself, not this time! Not when finally he saw a way! For, Drinian knew that to chart a course, you need a point of origin and a point of arrival, and now he had both. He was in the openest of seas, but he had a compass, and stars were shining again.

It was right for the kingdom, and he would do this for Narnia's sake. His beloved land couldn't afford to lose the Crown Prince.

Determinedly, he went to the King's chamber, past the guards without problems and, after knocking, entered without waiting for an answer.

A few minutes later the king would be informed. The prince would be safe and Narnia would not fall. Not if Drinian had something to say about it.

The end/TBC

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* Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Lewis

A/N This is the story formerly known as To blaze a trail. I've changed title, summary and cover. About the title, polytropos literally means many forms, and it's applied by Homer to Odysseus. I hope you'll understand the reason behind this title the further you read.

This fanfiction is book-based, and Drinian character is from the book as well. (I love Book!Drinian.)

I've wanted to expand on this what if scenario for a ridiculously long time, and here is what I came up with at last. I hope you'll read and enjoy (and review)! :)

This one-shot could stand alone (I think), but I'm definitely continuing it, as the plot is ready and I know where I'm going. It'll take some time, though, so please be patient.

The characters will be kept as close to canon as I can.