Authors Note: AAHHH! Yes, it's the dreaded Authors note of doom. ( Insert Darth Vader's theme music here. )
My sincerest apologies, this is going to be quite a long Authors note. You may want to get comfortable.
Okay, this is my first EVER fiction. Ever. I am so nervous. I feel as though I have a stampede in my stomach right now, I so desperately want people to like my story. Did I mention I was nervous? XP
Honestly, I'm not too happy with this chapter. This is basically a review of the fight between Caspian and Peter, but deeper insight into their perspectives and a different ending. I'm so sorry that it's so slow and boring, I'm sort of setting the stage for the actually story, which should hopefully be a lot better than this chapter. So so so sorry! Please be patient with me!
The story will be relatively long, and will consist of all the things we love in a good Casper fic. Angst, Fluff, and Slashy-goodness. I will do my best possible to live up to the expectations within this Fandom. I really hope I don't disappoint anyone. I'm sorry in advance, though. XD
I am totally open to requests, suggestions, input; all of the above.
Warning: Yeah, this is Slash. "Gasp!" How vulgar, right? Eh, you'll get over it. You know you like it anyway.
This story will be rated M in the future.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything as I am unfortunately not C.S Lewis. Unless you want me to be… That could be potentially kinky. Anyone up for a round in the wardrobe?
A HUGE thank you to my wonderful Beta, Rosie ( FastFuriousChick ) who edited this chapter for me. But then, the file got lost, and I'm too scared to ask her to beta it again. So there may be a few mistakes in here, but thats my fault, not hers. She's amazing.
Please please please review. It would mean so much to me… Tell me how you think my first story is starting off. Do you think I should quit while I'm ahead? Do you want my address so you can hunt me down and murder me for writing such a monstrosity? I'll accept criticism, heck, I'll accept blatant insults, ANY FORM of review would be fantastic. Pretty pretty please? So sorry about the Authors note.
Thank you so much for reading!
( Also, I'm Australian, so some words may seem to be spelled wrong, but for me they're normal. So sorry! I hope it doesn't put anyone off )
The weather was bleak.
Sunlight was scarce and the land felt desolate and deserted, barren of all life. Dismal grey clouds hung in the air, threatening to weep upon those below. And weep they should. It seemed like Narnia itself was reflecting the mood of its inhabitants, mourning the unnecessary loss of soldiers in a futile attempt to overthrow a kingdom made just the night before.
And no one was mourning more than Peter Pevensie. Trudging lethargically up the steps to the Narnian Storm Hold, he desperately struggled to maintain his calm exterior, afraid that the survivors of last nights battle, his siblings and the Prince might glimpse his chaotic inner feud. Emotion made every bone in Peter's body expand, constrict and break. Every organ swelled to bursting point, or deflated and shriveled into sheer nothingness. Or at least, that's what it felt like to him. All he knew was that the frenzied rage, despair and guilt were pounding him into oblivion.
Peter ached.
Little did he know, though, that the Prince to his left felt just as bad. Perhaps worse.
Caspian's head hung limply from his neck, shoulders sagging and feet scraping against stone steps. Distressed and drained, unlike Peter, Caspian had no energy to pretend he was anything other than distraught. No time for appearances or facades. He felt alone and isolated, devoid of anything except the devastation laying waste to his insides. Prince Caspian also shared Peter's heavy unwavering guilt. All those lives sacrificed, and for what?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Both High King and Prince felt miserable.
They continued the climb to their fort, the remains of the Narnian army trailing behind them. They needed to get inside, nurse their wounded, recuperate and prepare. The Telmarines would be coming for them. And soon.
As they reached the entrance of Aslan's How, a perplexed Lucy rushed to greet them. Worry etched her youthful features as she gazed at the tragically pitiful scene before her. Her dear eldest brother looked twice his age, redness rimming his eyes and in possession of a frightfully unnatural pallor. And Susan and Edmund, who were following closely behind, both retained sorrowful, dejected expressions.
… And why had only half the soldiers returned?
Addressing both Prince Caspian and Peter, Lucy asked, her voice laced with concern "What happened?"
Peter's bitterness overtook him. He loathed being slave to these hysterical emotions, this overwhelming guilt. Wasn't he supposed to be the sensible, calm one? He needed someone to blame, someone to saddle these emotions with, so that he might have a reprieve from these frantic feelings.
He just needed to breathe.
Channeling all his anger and hurt into answering Lucy's question, Peter threw a spiteful side glance at Caspian and said "Ask him" with all the malevolence he could muster.
Caspian froze, stunned.
"Me?" He asked in disbelief, life returning to his limbs and outrage coursing through his body. "You could've called it off, there was still time!"
Peter scoffed, persisting to verbally vent his feelings. "No there wasn't, thanks to you. If you'd kept to the plan those soldiers might be alive right now."
"And if you stayed here like I suggested they definitely would be!" Cried Caspian, advancing a few steps towards Peter, towering over the High King.
Peter was not intimidated in the least. Rather, he mirrored the taller boy's actions, moving closer as he retorted heatedly. "You called us, remember?!"
The two men stood there, inches apart, radiating vehement hostility towards the other. The tension so fierce, it bordered on becoming a physical entity. Caspian and Peter exchanged an achingly intense look, staring defiantly at each other, both refusing to be the first to surrender. Eyes the colour of the coldest ice bore into those of the deepest earth as Caspian managed to hiss his reply through clenched teeth,
"…My first mistake."
Peter felt the Princes hot breath dance across his face, invoking his anger further, but arousing the need to turn away. He was starting to become uncomfortable under Caspian's scrutinizing stare.
"No," Peter corrected, starting to depart, ready to abandon the argument "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people." He called over his shoulder, still retreating, determined to flee the scene. Why was he so desperate to escape? Hadn't he instigated this fight? He continued walking away.
"HEY!" Bellowed Caspian, fists clenched, eyes ablaze, incensed and insulted. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia!"
Peter stopped, once more moving to face Caspian.
"You invaded Narnia! You have no more right to be here than Miraz does!" Spat Peter.
Now it was Caspians turn to flee, he couldn't stand to be in Peter's presence an instant longer. He had tolerated his insolence long enough, his temper tested and patience abused. He needed to leave, he had to get away.
Frantic now, Peter was shoved aside haphazardly as Caspian attempted to reach the safe haven of Alsan's How, just as Peter had moments before.
But then the High King roared his next retort, and the Prince almost choked.
"You, Him, Your Father… Narnia's better off without the lot of you!"
His father. How could Peter say such a thing? It had been mere hours since Caspian had uncovered the truth about his fathers tragic demise, the truth about Miraz's treachery. …How could he? Caspian's chest constricted and his heart heaved in absolute mortification. Never did he think Peter could be so malicious, so cruel… so poisonous.
Every muscle in his body became tense. Caspian felt fervent anger ignite and boil his blood, felt a storm of hysterical fury brew in the pit of his stomach. He felt rage slither through his veins. Like an insidious serpent.
Like poison.
Taking him over.
Peter himself looked shocked that the words had escaped his own mouth.
The crowd that had accumulated to witness the dispute between royalty saw Caspian reach for his sword, his grip throttling the handle of the blade; knuckles turning white. Power and wrath emanating from his whole being, Caspian remained poised that way for several moments. Unmoving. As if waging an inner war. Still, the mad look in his eye lingered.
Peter shuddered, the Prince's stillness unnerved him. Even frightened him somewhat.
Just as Peter prepared for the inevitable blow to be dealt, raising his fists in defense, Caspian exhaled, his hand going lax and slipping of the swords clutch.
Caspian walked away from the whole dramatic episode, into Aslan's storm hold and as far away from High King Peter the Magnificent as he could possibly get.
Terrible, right? You have my biggest fattest apology. And my promise to do better in the next chapter, which should be up soon. I am so sorry. Please review! I would appreciate it immeasurably. If I've made mistakes anywhere, which I'm sure I have, please point them out to me. And I would love some constructive criticism.
Thanks so much!