Title- Starts with goodbye
Author- ToriaPhoenix
Rating- PG-13- mainly cause it is slash. That means guy/guy. You've been warned.
Pairing- Caspian/Peter.
Summary- When all is said and done, all Caspian has left are memories. And it kills him.
A/N- Wellp. I saw the movie about a week ago, and Lord help me, but all I saw was Caspian/Peter. I mean, seriously- they had about ten million times the chemistry that Susan/Caspian had. So then… this happened. I imagine I might do a companion piece, in Peters POV, but only if people are interested in one. You know what that means, right?
Review.
Please and thank you. ;-)
Enjoy.
- - - -
Peter's eyes lock with Caspian's. An uneasy feeling begins to creep into the newly crowned Kings stomach. Then, Peter speaks.
"We'll go."
No.
A wave of nausea sweeps over Caspian, and he opens his mouth to protest when he realizes Peter is speaking again.
"Come on, our time's up. After all, we're not really needed here anymore."
Wrong.
So wrong.
Caspian wants to yell at the blond, wants to grab the other boy and shake some sense into him.
Peter is needed in Narnia because Caspian needs him just as he needs air, and he's not ready to lose the blond. Not now, not ever.
His heart is pounding frantically as Peter walks up to him, and hands him his treasured sword.
An indecipherable look.
"I will look after it until you return." He finds himself offering, and he knows Peter can hear the tentative question under the offer. His stomach plummets as he recognizes the pained look in Peter's eyes.
"I'm afraid that's just it. We're not coming back." Susan says quietly from the sidelines, and Caspian stares at her, devastated, disbelieving.
"We're not?" Lucy replies, and Caspian realizes she's panicking too.
Peter stares hollowly at his youngest siblings.
"You two are." Peter says emptily. "At least, I think he means you two."
"But why? Did they do something wrong?" Lucy isn't nearly as panicked as before, but she's clearly upset at the idea of coming back to Narnia without her older brother and sister.
Aslan chuckles. "Quite the opposite my dear. But all things have their time. Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world. Now it's time for them to live in their own."
Caspian can't breathe, and the world seems to drop out from under him.
Peter attempts a half-hearted smile, though his jaw is clenched tightly, upset.
" It's alright Lu. It's not how I thought it would be." Peter paused, and his gaze shifts to Caspian, eyes guarded, but somehow… still sad. "But it's all right." He says softly. "One day you'll see too. Come on."
No.
Please, no.
No.
- - - -
Caspian shot awake, breathing heavily.
It had been almost a year since he had been crowned as King. A year since the Narnians had been liberated. A year since the Kings and Queens of olde had left Narnia. A year since he had left Narnia.
It evidentially wasn't enough that the blond Narnian King plagued his thoughts every moment he was awake; no, he had to haunt Caspian's dreams as well.
Caspian shuddered, fists clenching tightly around the silken sheets that were draped over his bed.
Breathing deeply, he began running through all the things he had to get done the next day. He needed his sleep if he was to be of any use to anyone. Still, he couldn't stop thinking. An hour of tossing and turning later, Caspian was at his wits end.
Throwing the covers off, Caspian slipped out of the large bed, and quietly got dressed. Striding out the door to his chambers, he walked quickly to his destination. When he stepped outside, he shivered slightly, and mentally berated himself for not grabbing a jacket.
The moon shone brightly, and it was beautiful enough to stop Caspian from backtracking to his room to retreat underneath his blankets.
Stepping out into the gentle glow, Caspian swallowed. This only seemed to get harder with each passing night. His feet walked on autopilot, until finally he stood in front of a large, very familiar tree.
It was a tree.
It was only a tree, but somehow in comforted Caspian. It made him feel… more connected to the world that Aslan had spoke of, and the blond Narnian King that lived in it.
'Peter.'
The thought came unbidden, and Caspian's heart lurched painfully.
Oh Aslan, would it ever stop hurting?
He shut his eyes tightly, and tried to control his breathing. Peter was gone. There was no use dwelling on it, no matter how much Caspian longed for him, no matter how much he regretted not acting on the feelings that haunted him day after day.
- - - -
He was stunned. Caspian had been instructed by the finest fighting instructors in Narnia, yet somehow, this blond stranger was fighting with a skill equivalent to his own. Forcing his thoughts aside, Caspian threw himself into the fight recklessly, desperate to prove himself. Grabbing the sword that was embedded in the tree behind him, he raised it swiftly, only to see the blond boy had found a new weapon; a rock, that the boy was preparing to launch at the Princes head.
"STOP!" The shriek of the little girl stopped Caspian in his tracks, and the Prince was surprised that it seemed to have stunned his opponent as well.
Luck was on Caspian's side. The Narnians, having heard the commotion, began emerging from the trees. Caspian smirked slightly as he eyed his opponent a little closer, and promptly froze.
The blond boy… no, not a boy. Definitely not a boy. The young man that stood before him had to have been Caspian's age, if only just a little younger, but that wasn't what struck the Prince.
The blond didn't look afraid by the appearance of the Narnians. No… he was staring at Caspian with dawning apprehension, but the boys piercing baby blue eyes had rendered Caspian speechless.
His breath caught.
"Prince… Caspian?" His mystery opponent asked slowly, accessing Caspian closely.
Ignoring the desire to flush under the blond's intense stare, Caspian glared at the other.
"Yes? And who are you?"
"PETER!" A girls voice yelled, though it was a different girl then before. Caspian glanced over, and was confused to now see two girls and a younger boy watching the pair in horror.
…wait.
Caspian glanced at the blond in front of him, then at the sword in his hand.
He froze.
"High King Peter." Caspian said in awe.
High King Peter, the Magnificent was in Narnia.
It had worked. The horn had worked.
"I believe you called." Peter replied dryly.
"Well yes, but… I thought you'd be… older." Caspian said hesitantly.
Peter looked mildly annoyed. "Well if you'd like, we can come back in a few years."
"No. No, that's alright. You're just… you're not exactly what I expected." Caspian said as he glanced at the other King and Queens. His eyes skimmed over the trio, and he suddenly found himself locked in a gaze with the older girl. She was beautiful… not as beautiful as her brother, but still beautiful, in her own way.
…wait. What?
Caspian stiffened, realizing he was treading on dangerous territory.
No. No, no, no.
He was not even going to go there. He studied the girl again, and was slightly pleased to find her sneaking glances back at him.
She really was quite lovely. He realizes that Peter has been talking to the Narnians around him, and he shakes his head, and attempts to focus.
"Well at least we know some of you can handle a blade." Peter commented sardonically, and Caspian quickly realized that it was a bit of a subtle dig at him. He exhaled sharply, and clenched his fists.
"Yes indeed! And I've put it to good use securing weapons for your army sire."
"Good." Peter said slowly, his eyes locking with Caspian's. "Because we're gonna need every sword we can get."
"Well then," Caspian replied a bit sharper then necessary, trying to cover his flustered state. " you will probably be wanting yours back."
Caspian smirked as he offered the sword to the blond, and Peter glared in reply. Grabbing the sword, Peter spun around, and began following the Narnians. Caspian followed shortly after, eyes drilling holes into the back of the blond's head.
- - - -
Caspian sighed.
It did his people no good by dwelling in the past.
Even if he had been attracted to Peter, such desires for another man would never be acceptable, even in Narnia.
Standing up, he winced at the sore muscles in his lower back. He'd have to have that taken care of tomorrow.
Sparing one last glance at the giant tree, Caspian sighed, and began walking back toward his chamber, only to change courses last minute. Instead, he entered into one of the spare bedrooms, one that had been built with the purpose of rooming visitors of a higher caliber.
Though there were a limited number of spare rooms, Caspian was adamant that no one was to be allowed in this particular room. No matter who it was, or how crowded the castle became, this room remained strictly off limits.
The last person to stay in the room, aside from Caspian, had been High King Peter. The maids, per Caspian's request, hadn't even changed the sheets. If they found this request odd, they didn't show it.
He wasn't certain if it was a blessing or a curse that the whole castle thought the room had been Susan's, rather then her older brothers.
Nonetheless, it comforted Caspian to be in the same room that Peter had once been in, to sleep in the same bed that he had slept in. Padding up to the bed, Caspian quickly crawled onto the soft mattress and under the warm blankets. He buried his head in the pillow and inhaled sharply.
As impossible as it seemed, somehow the pillow had retained Peter's scent throughout the past year, despite Caspian's frequent use of it. The scent of lemon and soap caused hot tears to suddenly course down Caspian's cheeks, and the King had to muffle his sobs. It would do no good for someone to hear him crying.
After all, Kings didn't cry.
'Not true.' A small voice chimed in Caspian's head. 'Or don't you remember the night of the raid on the castle?'
He remembered.
He remembered everything.
- - - -
His heart was pounding frantically as he rushed across the drawbridge on his horse.
Miraz had killed his father.
And Caspian would have his revenge.
It was then that Caspian finally realized what was going on behind him.
At least half the Narnians were trapped hopelessly behind the gates, screaming for help.
Peter was frozen, a look of pure horror etched on his face.
And the bridge was rising.
Caspian felt his heart stop.
"PETER! THE BRIDGE!" He yelled, panicking.
Peter's eyes locked with his, and Caspian exhaled sharply. For the first time since Caspian had met him, Peter looked every inch of the boy's body he was in. His baby blue eyes were glassy, wide, and the sheer terror that Caspian found reflected in them gave the Prince the urge to take Peter in his arms and cradle him just as Caspian's mother had to Caspian as a child, damned if it was a bad time or place.
He breathed a sigh of relief as Peter's horse barely managed to clear the gap between the castle and the bridge.
All was deathly silent as the group raced toward the woods, and the safety they would find there.
Once Caspian has made certain all the remaining soldiers are safely in the woods, he dismounts his horse, and begins trekking with the rest of them. Peter follows his example, though it's clear that the others mind is elsewhere. The King and the soon to be King of Narnia walk to the front of the caravan to guide the troops back to their headquarters, back to the wives and children anxiously waiting to see if their loved ones had made it. Caspian tells himself that he had moved to the front of the group to show leadership, but deep down he knows it's because he can't bear seeing the disappointed faces of the remaining troops.
It hasn't even been ten minutes of marching when Caspian glances over at Peter, and double takes when he realizes that silent sobs are wracking the other boy's lithe frame. Caspian swallows the suddenly painful lump in his throat, and is revolted with himself when he finds himself thinking that Peter is still breathtaking in the midst of tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
He swallows, and clenches his fists tightly, lest he do something he would regret.
"Peter?" He asks quietly, and he flinches when Peter turns to glare at him.
"Leave me alone." Peter replies hoarsely, and walks just a little bit quicker, so Caspian can't see his face anymore. The King-to-be sighs.
"Don't take it personally," a sweet voice called from just barely behind him. Caspian felt his eyebrows rise as Susan walked briskly to his side, speaking in hushed, solemn tones. "Peter always gets like this after a battle goes wrong."
"Is there… anything I can do? To help?" Caspian asks thickly, and Susan half-smiles at him. It occurs to him that she thinks he's saying it to impress her, to make himself look good.
Oh, if only she knew the thoughts the Talmarine Prince had of her darling brother. She would never speak to him again.
"Just let him alone." Susan replies softly, and smiles the slightest bit at him. He smiles hesitantly back.
When he looks up, Peter is glaring at them both.
- - - -
"What happened?" Lucy asks as soon as they arrive, taking in the solemn faces of the troops..
"Ask him." Peter spat through gritted teeth, gesturing towards Caspian.
"Me?" Caspian asks incredulously. "You could have called it off! There was still time!"
"No there wasn't, thanks to you! If you'd have kept to the plan, those soldiers might still be alive now!"
"And if you'd stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be!" Caspian is getting frustrated, angry. He's having a hard time holding his tongue. Somehow, the High King had a habit of bringing out the worst in him.
The blond scoffs. "You called us, remember?"
"My first mistake." Caspian replies coolly, brushing past the younger man.
"No. Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people." The words hurt, and Caspian's thriving need for revenge rears its ugly head.
"HEY!" He snarls after the blond. " I am not the one who abandoned Narnia." The baby blue eyes flash with hurt, and immeasurable pain before it's covered up, and Caspian immediately regrets his words. He can see Peter floundering, trying to cover up his hurt with anger.
"You invaded Narnia. You have no more right to be here then the rest of us! You, him, your father! Narnia's better without the lot of you!"
Caspian isn't thinking as he cries out in fury and draws his blade. On some level, he's known it would come to this.
"STOP!" Lucy cries out, and Caspian mentally thanks her, for it's the second time she has stopped the pair from killing each other.
Caspian's eyes lock with Peter as he puts his sword away, and there is a flash of regret in the baby blue that causes Caspian to pause, just for a split second. Then he's rushing away, fists clenched tightly at his side.
- - - -
It was about a month after the Pevensies left Narnia for the second time that Caspian realized how deeply he was affected by their absence. Though they had only been in his life for less then two weeks, each of the former Kings and Queens had left their own particular marks on him; Lucy, with her eternal optimism, and unyielding faith that Aslan would come to their rescue, Edmund with his unconditional loyalty to his family, Susan with her quiet determination, and… Peter.
Peter, with his honey blond hair and his baby blue eyes. Peter, who could go charging into battle without a moment of hesitation or fear that he might be killed. Peter, who had a beautiful smile, and more then that, a beautiful heart.
It was about a month after the Pevensies left Narnia for the second time that Caspian realized he hadn't just been attracted to the oldest Pevensie, he had been in love with him.
Somehow, in the few and far between moments of mutual understanding and grudging respect, Caspian had fallen for the boy.
It was a realization that had come too late, for what good was it to realize you were in love if the object of your affections has already been cruelly torn out of your life?
Caspian squeezed the pillow a little tighter, and as he drifted off to sleep, he imagined that he was holding Peter.
He dreamed.
- - - -
Caspian stormed into their makeshift headquarters, which was thankfully void of all Narnians. He would hate for them to see him like this. He continued pacing until he caught sight of a particular marking on the wall.
It was a colored sketch of King Peter. Caspian growled deep in his throat.
Why. Why, why, why, why.
Why did Caspian ever blow that stupid horn?
What good had it done him in the end? He had even more problems now then he had at the beginning of this whole situation, all thanks to the High King.
Caspian clenched his fists tightly, until the knuckles had turned white. Why was he attracted to that pig-headed, egocentric, arrogant excuse of a King?
He sighed, and his gaze shifted over to the sketch of Susan. His eyes softened.
Why. Why couldn't he be attracted to her? Not only would it make his life easier, but also she was certainly a better choice then her fair-headed brother.
She was everything that Caspian should want; a beautiful Queen, soft, delicate, intelligent.
Peter was everything that Caspian should not want; he was quick-tempered, headstrong, temptingly handsome, and… utterly captivating.
Caspian sighed.
"Are you so glad of that magic horn now, boy? The Kings and Queens have failed us. Your army is half dead. And those that aren't will be soon enough." A low voice hissed from behind him, and Caspian glanced down to see Nikabrik leering up at him.
"What do you want? Congratulations?" Caspian asked bitterly.
"You want your uncles blood. So do we. You want his throne? We can get it for you." Nikabrik began leading him deeper into the tomb, toward the center where the stone table was. Caspian felt a creeping feeling of unease seeping into him, warning him not to listen to anything Nikabrik had to offer.
"You tried one ancient power, it failed. But there is a greater power even still. One that kept Aslan at bay for a hundred years." Nikabrik smirked, and Caspian froze as he heard a low growl echo through the room.
"Who's there?" Caspian calls out, and he hates the fear that is so evident in his voice. He wonders if this would frighten Peter, and he immediately steels himself, wanting desperately to somehow prove himself to the blond.
"I. I am hungry. I am thirst. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. Show. Me. Your. ENEMIES." The giant bear growled loudly, and Caspian took a shaky step back. His heart stopped as yet another unwanted guest stepped out of the shadows.
"What you hate so will we. No one hates better then us." She hissed. Caspian can't help but be intrigued.
"And you can guarantee Miraz's death?"
"And more. Let the circle be drawn." She rasped, and Caspian found himself shoved forward as a circle was drawn around his feet. His mind was screaming at him to get out of there, now, because whatever the three had devised couldn't be good.
Caspian felt his breath catch in his throat as a giant mirror of ice rose out of thin air. There was a hazy figure forming in the ice pane… The White Witch.
Oh no. Oh Aslan, no. The Kings and Queens would never forgive him for this… Peter would never forgive him for this…
"Wait." He protested, voice cracking. "This isn't what I wanted."
Caspian stumbled backwards, only to be forced still by the bear. The White Witch smiled seductively at him.
"One drop of Adams blood, and I am free. Then I am yours my King." She whispered, drawing him in.
"NO!" Caspian cried as the woman creature dragged a sharp knife across his hand. He shuddered when blood appeared. He was defeated. There was no way to escape this… but would it really be so bad? Perhaps the White Witch did hold the key to success, the key to winning the war. The Pevensies would understand in time. Peter would understand in time. He had too.
Caspian braced himself, waiting for the moment the blood would trickle to the ground.
"STOP!" An angry voice bellowed, and Caspian suddenly couldn't move. As the two sides battled, Caspian stood frozen in between, unsure of the right course of action.
The decision is made for him.
Without a second's hesitation, Peter shoves Caspian out of the circle, out of harms way.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" The blond yells, and Caspian is certain he's never heard Peter so furious.
"Peter dear! I've missed you." And just like that, Caspian realizes how wrong this is. How this woman is dripping with lies, and evil. His blood boils, and he wants to scream at Peter to smash it, but he can't.
"Come. Just one drop. You know you can't do this alone." She smiles coldly, and Peter is frozen where he stands. His gaze is unwaveringly focused on the Witch, and he seems to be… considering it.
A sickening crack echoes through the hall, and as the glass crashes to the ground, Caspian breaths a sigh of relief.
- - - -
The dream abruptly shifted, and suddenly Caspian was standing beside Susan as Peter walked up to the pair, and Caspian had to avert his gaze so as not to gape.
His cheeks flushed, hair matted to his forehead, lightly panting, Peter was beautiful. Caspian's felt a slight pang in his heart.
"Lucy?" The blond questioned worriedly.
"She got through," Susan reaffirmed, "with a little help." The brunette girl shot him a small smile, but Caspian couldn't stop staring at Peter. Their eyes met, and Caspian was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to crush his lips against Peters.
He swallowed, knowing it was neither the proper time nor place to be having such thoughts.
Shoving his desires to the side, he guided Peter to a chair, and gently pried away his shield. The blond cried out in pain, and Caspian glanced at Edmund helplessly, unsure of what to do.
"I think it's dislocated." The High King said through gritted teeth. Edmund walked over to his brothers' side, examining the arm.
Caspian busied himself with rooting through the bandages, determined to help one way or another.
"What do you think happens back home…" Peter said quietly, and Caspian pauses to glance at the blond, even though the question is directed at Edmund. "if you die here?"
Caspian feels sick to his stomach at the thought, and lets out a shuddering breath.
Peter turned to gaze at his brother. "You know you've always been there, and I never really-" he let out another sharp cry of pain as Edmund snapped the bone back into place.
"Just save it for later." Edmund muttered gruffly, and Caspian has never been so grateful to the younger King.
Watching Peter fight Miraz is both horrifying and awe-inspiring. Horrifying because although Peter is getting some amazing blows, he's not managing to block all of Miraz's attacks, and it's beginning to cost him. Awe-inspiring because it allows Caspian to see King Peter the Magnificent in the same way the history books describe him; beautiful, but lethal.
He will never be able to put into words how thankful he is when Peter is declared the victor.
- - - -
"Caspian, I'm worried about you."
Caspian winced, even as he pasted on a reassuring smile that might placate his professor. They had had this conversation many times, and Caspian had no doubt that he'd be facing it many more times in the future.
"Cornelius, dear friend, you've no need to worry. I'm perfectly fine." Caspian said, and his heart clenched for lying so to his much-respected teacher.
Cornelius sighed in frustration, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "That's just it. You're not perfectly fine Caspian! You're barely living! If this continues on, I'm afraid we'll loose you."
Caspian tensed. "Don't be ridiculous Cornelius." He said stiffly. "I'm not going to die. I'm just stressed with all that's to be done to restore Narnia to peace. You know this."
Cornelius shook his head sadly. "Dear Caspian, there are fates far worse then than death. I was not referring to your physical state, but your mental and emotional state. You're so young, yet you have the responsibility of ruling Narnia as King."
Caspian's eyes narrowed. "King Peter began his rule much younger then I am now, and he lead Narnia into a golden age. If he could do it, then why can't I? Why must you doubt me so?"
"Oh my dear boy, you've got it all wrong. I'm not questioning your ability as a leader, not by a long shot. I'm just worried that you taking on such a burden at such a young age will affect your future happiness. Your father would have wanted you to be happy."
A pregnant pause.
"He'd also want you to find a Queen, Caspian; someone to love, to confide in. Someone to turn to when you are in need of help." Cornelius studied Caspian very carefully, who remained mercifully blank.
"I appreciate your concern." The King replied coolly. "But I see no point to such trivial things right now. As you said yourself, I'm still quite young. I have plenty of time."
"But Caspian-" The older man paused. Then, a bit regretfully, "if you're waiting for them to come back, it's a wasted hope my boy."
Caspian trembled with fury. "How dare you." He murmured, barely controlling his anger. "You don't know anything about it. You don't know!"
"I know more then you think I know."
"Oh? Well then enlighten me!" Caspian spat.
"I know that it wasn't Queen Susan you longed after, despite what you'd have all of Narnia believe." Cornelius said quietly.
Caspian gasped sharply, feeling as though the other had just punched him in the gut. "How?" He rasped. "I- no one knew. So how?"
Cornelius rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"My dear boy," he murmured, "I was there that night. I saw the way you looked at him."
Caspian let out a shuddering breath. "And how was it that I looked at him?"
Cornelius gave a small, sad smile. "Like… life as you knew it had ended."
- - - -
Caspian breathed a sigh of relief as he escaped out onto the balcony of the crisp night air. They had won. Narnia was once again free of its tyrant ruler, and those that opposed the uprising would be dealt with soon enough.
It was the night just after his coronation ceremony. A ball was being thrown in his honor, but it felt more like a punishment then an honor.
It was all too much. Everyone kept crowding around him, offering him his or her congratulations, patting him on the back, wanting to discuss potential ideas for a treaty. On top of that, Susan shooting hopeful glances in his direction, which confused him to no end. The only person he really wanted to talk to was skirting around the room, flitting in and out of the shadows, and out of the limelight, a fact that Caspian was beginning to resent.
Yet, somehow, he had managed to escape it all, under the pretense of a bathroom break. Instead, he had found sanctuary on a hidden balcony, just barely out of sight of the ballroom. There, he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Now why would a King be hiding out here?" An amused voice called from the shadows. Caspian jolted in surprise, and glanced over to see… Peter. His heart skipped a beat.
"I might ask you the same question." He replied lightly. Peter tilted his head back and laughed, a sound that sent electric shockwaves running down Caspian's spine.
"Fair enough. But this isn't my coronation ball." The other said, still smiling.
The difference between the Battle Peter and the Non-Battle Peter was… exquisite. This Peter seemed so much happier, less burdened. Still incomprehensibly beautiful, but Caspian had a feeling if he said this to the other King, the good mood he was so astounded over would disappear.
"I just needed some time to breathe. Time to think." Caspian said softly, unable to take his eyes off Peter, who was dressed in an almost silken light blue tunic. It matched his eyes beautifully.
"Ah." Peter nodded understandingly. "Would you like me to leave you then?"
"No." Caspian said a little too quickly, for Peter glanced at him in confusion. "I just mean. No. A little bit of company will be a nice change of pace."
Peter seemed to accept this, and went back to staring at the sky.
"It's funny," the blond mused, "at mine and my siblings coronation ball, I did the exact same thing you're doing, only Susan ended up finding me out and dragging me back to the party."
Caspian winced. "You don't think she'd…" He trailed off hesitantly, and Peter laughed again.
"No." He said confidently, still chuckling. "She can do that to me because I'm her brother. It would just be impolite for her to do that to you, and she knows it."
A comfortable silence descended over the balcony.
"Speaking of Susan," Peter said a bit softer, and Caspian was surprised to hear the Kings voice tighten the slightest bit, "she's been dying for you to ask her to dance with you."
Caspian's eyes widened with realization. So that was what had prompted the hopeful looks. He shook his head as he realized Peter was waiting for something.
"I… I'm not much of a dancer." He mumbled weakly, knowing that Peter would see through the lie. They were both bound by duty, and duty called them to know everything they could about their heritage, including the dances that came with it.
Much to his surprise though, Peter simply hummed in response.
"Caspian…" The blond said quietly, and Caspian can't help but shiver at the sound of his name rolling off of Peter's lips, "I'd like to apologize. I've been a right arse to you, and I didn't exactly make any of this easy on you. I'm sorry."
Caspian nodded, throat suddenly closed up.
"I've just. I've been dealing with a lot." Peter mused, then abruptly looked over at him, contemplative. "Not to imply that you haven't, of course. I just mean that I've had to come to terms with a lot of stuff about myself lately, and I don't know what to make of it."
"Oh?" Caspian asks, in what he a hope is his most casual sounding voice possible.
Peter turns to stare at him, and for a brief instant, Caspian is certain he sees a hint of desire in those baby blue eyes.
The moment was ruined as the sound of footsteps grew louder and louder.
"Peter, are you out here? For goodness sakes, must we do this every time there's a ball? Honestly, quit being selfish. This is Caspian's night and- Oh! Caspian!" Susan said, startled. "I didn't expect to see you out here."
Caspian glanced over at Peter, and was startled to see the other King gripping the rail so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
"Yes, well," Caspian said slowly, still staring at the blond. "I needed some air, and just happened to find excellent company to go along with it."
Peter's eyes shot over to him in surprise, and the young man smiled hesitantly at Caspian, who grinned back in response. Susan glanced between the two, evidentially confused.
"It's alright Susan. I was just heading in." Peter told his sister, striding toward the entrance. Caspian followed quickly after, despite Susan's attempts to linger on the secluded balcony.
"Peter." He called after the blond, who turned around in confusion. "Thank you." He murmured huskily, and Peter flushed lightly.
"It's no problem." He muttered, and Caspian felt as though his heart was on fire for all the leaps and bounds he had made with Peter in a mere ten minute conversation.
The rest of the night, Caspian ignored Susan's hopeful looks, choosing instead to observe her brother, trying not to be overwhelmed by the building desire in his heart.
- - - -
"I never saw you. So where?" Caspian asked hoarsely. "Where were you?"
"I saw you as the lot of you were coming back inside." Cornelius said, his voice quiet, thoughtful. "It wasn't for very long at all… a split-second at most, but it was enough. Enough to confirm my suspicions, that is."
Caspian shook his head dizzily.
"What does it matter anyway?" he asked, a bit sharper then necessary. "He's gone, and just as you pointed out, he's not coming back. He can't come back." He muttered bitterly.
Cornelius sighed. "I'm sure Aslan was doing what he thought was best. We can't see the bigger picture my boy; who knows what might have happened had King Peter stayed?"
"I'd have been happy. He would have been happy." Caspian said quietly, defeated. "What harm would've come of it?"
Cornelius gently laid an aging hand on his younger students shoulder.
"You of all people should know that Narnia is not as accepting as it used to be in the days of olde. If it were discovered that their former High King, and their current King were in an affair, you'd face a war of a different kind, my boy. And to be entirely honest, I'm not so sure that Narnia is ready for an awakening like that."
Caspian rubbed his forehead, attempting to ward off a headache.
"I just can't accept that he's never coming back." Caspian murmured, a pained longing striking his heart. "I wish he had known how I felt about him."
Cornelius opened his mouth to speak, before pausing, reconsidering. After endless minutes of silence, he finally spoke.
"I don't know if this will help you, or make this worse, but… He loved you too." Cornelius said gently. Caspian's head snapped up, looking as though he had been slapped.
"He… I… how?" He stammered.
"Because I saw the way he was looking back at you."
- - - -
As Peter grabbed Lucy's hand and guided her over to Trumpkin, Caspian felt his stomach sink in disappointment. Peter wasn't planning any further goodbye for him. The gift of the sword would be their final words.
The world blurs around him, and suddenly Susan is in front of him. He blinks at her in confusion.
"I'm glad I came back." She says softly.
Caspian glances over her shoulder at Peter, and intense brown clash with crystal blue for a split second, then it's over.
"I wish we had more time together." He says, and though he is speaking to Susan, he's thinking of Peter.
"We never would've worked anyway."
This catches him off guard, and before he can properly analyze her words, he finds himself blurting out a curious, "Why not?"
Susan smiles. "I am thirteen hundred years older then you." Caspian is still trying to catch himself, trying to silence the voice in his head screaming at him to stop Peter, so he doesn't even see it coming when Susan pulls him down into a tender kiss. His first kiss. It should be something monumental, something too spectacular to put into words, but it is none of those things. Instead, Susan's lips feel awkward and cold, and Caspian counts the seconds until it's over.
When she breaks the kiss, he absentmindedly hugs her tight, for he knows this is the closest he'll ever get to holding Peter, and it's enough to keep him from pulling away.
As Susan pulls away, Caspian finds his eyes locked on Peter, who looks as though he's about to cry even as he smiles bitter sweetly. Caspian suddenly regrets so many things.
He regrets leading Susan on. He regrets all the time with Peter wasted on bickering. He regrets never telling him. He regrets never kissing him.
He's pulled from his thoughts as the Pevensies begin walking slowly towards the tree, as if walking to their death sentence.
Edmund goes through first.
Then Peter.
Then Susan.
Then Lucy.
And then… they're gone.
They're gone.
- - - -
Caspian choked back tears even as they burned in his eyes. Walking briskly towards Peter's room, he felt as though his world was caving in around him.
He wanted Peter.
He needed Peter.
He loved Peter.
So why had Peter been taken away from him?
He threw himself on the bed, and grabbed the worn out pillow. He inhaled sharply, but the scent is absent.
He sobs harder as he realizes exactly how hard he's been pretending that he still has small connections to the blond King.
Caspian is certain his heart has never been so thoroughly broken, not even when he had found out Miraz had murdered his father.
All he knew was that he was slowly fading away. Soon he would cease to exist at all, for without Peter, he had no will to live at all.
Peter would never return to Narnia.
And Caspian would never heal from this.
- - - -
Lips meet in dazed pleasure, and Caspian knows that this is right, Aslan be damned for his bigger picture.
"Caspian…" Peter murmurs hoarsely, and Caspian feels goose bumps rise on his arms at the sound of his name rolling off of those swollen red lips. He kisses Peter a little more desperately, and even though it's lacking finesse, it's perfect, because he's finally kissing Peter.
"Peter." He whispers heatedly.
Heavy lidded brilliant blue eyes gaze up at Caspian with need. "Love you Caspian." Peter says softly, and Caspian takes in a shuddering breath.
"Love you too. So much."
Their bodies are tangled together, so close that their hearts seem to be beating in tandem.
And Caspian is happy.
- - - -
Caspian awoke with a pained gasp, and hot tears burned his eyes as he realized it was only a dream. The cruelty of it all struck him fiercely, and Caspian rolled over on his side, and tried to sleep, tried to fall back into dreaming of honey colored hair, flushed cheeks, and baby blue eyes.
It's of no use, and within an hour, Caspian finds himself stumbling out the door, sleep deprived and miserable, toward the tree in the courtyard.
And the cycle repeats.