Disclaimer: I do not own any of CS Lewis' books or characters or actors that play the characters.
Chapter 1:
It was a cold, rainy night when King Caspian returned from his journey to Avra, riding his tired horse up to the gates of the castle as they were thrown open. The sleeping inhabitants of Cair Paravel were not expecting for yet another day, and those that heard the sound of hoof beats on the cobblestones were surprised. The reason they were so early was because the king had urged his party to make haste as soon as their ship had touched Narnian soil, and they had ridden without much rest for two days.
"Shall I send someone ahead to announce your arrival, Your Majesty?" one of the guards had asked, when they were near, but Caspian had refused.
"It must be after midnight. I don't want to wake the whole place," Caspian had said cheerily, though he was weary, cold, and cramped.
Page boys, footmen, and a parlor maid were roused, and the kitchen fires were quickly lit, once word spread that the king had returned. Gentlemen-in-waiting greeted the king as soon as he handed Destrier's reins off to a yawning stable boy. They offered to take his cloak and his boots, but he waved them off without a word, striding steadily through the empty, torch-lit halls and up flights of stairs.
Walking ahead of them all, he made his way past a pair of guards, who bowed when they saw him. He came to a doorway and with utmost care to be quiet, Caspian grasped the gilt handles of a doorway and pushed the doors of his chambers open. A gaggle of servants brushed past him so they could light candles, pour ale, and bring out rugs and fur throws, but a sharp, silent signal from the king sent them all scurrying back.
In his muddied boots and travel-stained cloak, Caspian walked across his apartments and to a second pair of doors, which he opened just as quietly, to his bedchamber.
He paused at the threshold to sigh in pleasure as his eyes drank in the sight he had longed to see. There, buried amidst a comforter in a canopied bed, was his beloved husband, whom he had missed so much.
Peter was turned on his side, his cheek pressed to the embroidered pillow, yellow hair falling across his forehead. An arm was thrown out across the mattress, embracing the empty space where Caspian usually slept.
As quietly as he could, Caspian tiptoed to the bed and sat at the edge. Gently, he stroked a hand over Peter's hair, lowering himself so that his lips skimmed the top of Peter's forehead. Pale eyelashes fluttered at the touch.
Stirring, Peter awoke and gasped softly when he saw Caspian above him. Blue eyes widened in loving recognition.
"Hello, Caspian," he breathed, reaching up to cup his husband's cheek.
"Peter," whispered Caspian, putting all the longing and homesickness of the past month into that name, so that his lips trembled when he said it.
The next moment, Peter was wrapping tight arms around his shoulders, bringing him close and kissing the breath out of him. He pulled Caspian down to lie next to him, cloak, boots, and all, crying and laughing: "You're home! You're finally home!"
And Caspian embraced Peter to his chest, feeling hot skin beneath the silk nightshirt, and buried his face in sweet-smelling hair, feeling as if he'd never want to let go.
It was only after this, as the two kings lay whispering and embracing, that the servants entered again. They set up a table, poured warm spiced wine into goblets, drew rugs and furs over the chairs, made a fire in the hearth, lit the braziers and candles, and drew hot water from the taps in the adjoining bathroom.
Half an hour later, Caspian sat across the table from Peter, having washed and dressed in comfortable clothes at last. The page boys brought them bread, hot veal broth, baked apples, butter, and a raisin pastry, a small supper hurriedly put together by the sleepy kitchen staff.
Peter sat wrapped up in his husband's traveling cloak, not minding that it was still damp from the rain. He nursed a cup of hot cider, smiling as Caspian ate up the hot food with a grateful sigh.
Oblivious to the stiff-backed gentlemen-in-waiting standing around the room, they were lost in their own happy world, staring into each other's eyes with utter contentment and holding hands.
"How did you like Avra?" Peter inquired, putting both his feet in Caspian's lap, and Caspian signaled one of the page boys to bring a blanket so that Peter's toes wouldn't get chilled.
"I liked it very well," replied the king, after the blanket had been administered and tucked in. "It was good to see Lord Bern again. The people of the Lone Islands have been much better off since he was made Duke. He tells me the trade has improved greatly in Narrowhaven, with merchants from all over Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen going there to buy and sell. And that the slave trade has been wiped out, except for a few illicit dealings that are usually uncovered."
"That's wonderful," said Peter. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I can't believe you're actually here, sitting in front of me. It feels like you've been gone for years."
"Did you miss me very much?"
"Every minute of every day."
Caspian smiled warmly and kissed Peter's hand. The fire was soothing and the cider felt warm in his belly. As grand as Lord Bern's estates had been, it was the comfort of home that was the most luxurious of all, especially in the company of his beloved.
"And how is Queen Susan?" Caspian inquired.
"I'm afraid she's been bit melancholy, lately," Peter said, sighing. He set his mug down and spoke his next words with some difficulty. "A few days ago, I found her in the nursery again. She was rifling through the linens and things."
Caspian breath caught at this. "It's been five years," he said sadly, shaking his head.
"I know," said Peter, "but I don't think she ever stopped mourning. It grieves me to see her like this, and I know it grieves Rynelf as well. He tries so hard to make her happy, you know, and it hurts him as much as it hurts her, perhaps even more. Poor man."
"I know."
They drifted into silence at the mention of Susan's painful memories. The servants started clearing away the used dishes, refilling their cups with cider and wine, lighting more candles. Caspian saw Peter's brow wrinkle with a frown, and he squeezed Peter's toes lightly, smiling.
"And how's Lucy been?" Caspian asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Oh, you know how it is with her," Peter said with a laugh. "Different week, different beau. She knows I don't like it, but… she's happy, and with Susan feeling so dull lately… well, I figure it's best to be happy while you can. Did you know, there was a little archery tournament just the other day. She won, of course, and that got her even more admirers.
"Oh, I forgot to mention, Edmund's coming home next week and she's ridden out to meet him on the way."
"Is that so? It'll be good to see Edmund again. I've missed him."
"Yes, me too. It's been so long since he was home."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence again. The fire was crackling merrily on the hearth and Caspian felt himself grow drowsy with the warmth and the wine. Peter looked beautiful and rosy-cheeked by the firelight and Caspian felt a coil of desire as he saw Peter propped his face on one hand, the movement exposing his fair neck.
Caspian was just about to suggest they go to bed when Peter cleared his throat softly and sat up a little. His eyes were lowered.
"You haven't asked how Rilian is," Peter said quietly.
"Oh. Must've slipped my mind. How is he, then?" Suddenly, he wasn't quite so comfortable anymore.
"Very well!" Peter said, smiling immediately, as if Caspian had given him some kind of gift. "He's doing brilliantly in his lessons. All his tutors tell me that he's very bright, and modest too. And he loves music! Yesterday, he told me he wanted to learn to play on the virginals 'like Aunt Lucy does' and I think we should let him start learning. Maybe we can have a small set specially made for him?"
"Um… well, I'm glad that he's-"
"Oh, I should send for him now! He's been missing you for weeks, always asking for you. You should see him. I think he's grown another inch since you've left."
"Peter, it's the middle of the night!" Caspian protested, as Peter waved for a page to summon Prince Rilian's nurse. "I'm sure there's time enough tomorrow."
"No, it's alright," Peter insisted. "I promised him I'd get him right away as soon as you returned."
Peter was so animated Caspian was loathe to disappoint him. A few minutes later, the nurse came into the room in her dressing gown, holding Prince Rilian by the hand. The child's face lit up when he saw Caspian seated there, and looked as if he would very much like to dash forward to be hugged, but had to restrain himself.
"Go on, Rilian," Peter urged with a gentle smile. "Just like we practiced."
Holding his breath and looking like he was concentrating very hard, Rilian stepped up and dipped low into a formal, courtly bow towards Caspian and managed to straighten up without wobbling too much.
"Welcome back to Cair Paravel, Your Majesty," chirped the little prince. "I am most happy that you have returned safely from your journey."
Rilian glanced quickly at Peter afterwards as if checking to see if he had made any mistakes, and beamed when Peter nodded and smiled.
"Very good," Caspian said, genuinely pleased.
With a happy little cry, Rilian rushed over to Caspian and put his hands on the king's knees, looking up into his cousin's face. Moved by the child's sweet face, Caspian patted the head of dark curls affectionately as Rilian laid his head on Caspian's lap. He looked closely and noted that Rilian's face was still round with baby fat. Though the child seemed to have inherited Prunaprismia's eyes, Caspian wondered darkly if that adorable face would eventually sharpen into a likeness of Miraz.
"Well," he said, breaking the silence, "I'm sure Rilian should go back to bed now, as it's very late. We should retire too, Peter."
Caspian stood and Rilian's nurse came forward to take the prince by the hand again, but the little prince squirmed out of her grasp so he could run to Peter for a goodnight hug and kiss.
As Peter cooed, kissed both Rilian's cheeks, tickled his belly, and hugged him close, the servants began to clear away the leftovers. The prince turned in Peter's arms to stare longingly at the last sweet-smelling red apple.
"Papa, can I have that?" he asked, pointing a chubby finger.
Peter flushed immediately and glanced quickly at Caspian. The other king had stiffened at the familiar title Rilian used.
Peter drew the child close and hissed, "I told you not to call me that when he's here!"
Rilian's eyes went wide and he gasped shrilly, clapping a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "I didn't mean to!" His face was the perfect picture of hurt and contrition.
Peter sighed. "It's alright, it's alright," he soothed, patting the dark curls. "Just don't forget again."
He had the nurse wrap up the last apple in a handkerchief and send Rilian to bed. The gentlemen-in-waiting and page boys followed them out shortly afterwards. The room was now silent with just the two of them, and what relaxed comfort there was before had become awkward and tense.
"Papa?" Caspian repeated, looking at Peter, who flushed again. "Is that what he calls you?"
"It's just a name," Peter said softly, looking down into his lap.
"It's not just a name if that boy actually thinks you're his father," he snapped, then regretted it when he saw Peter flinch. Caspian made a weary-sounding groan and rubbed his eyes. "Look, we can talk about it tomorrow. Let's just go to bed. I'm tired. I've had a long journey, remember?" There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.
Briskly, Caspian blew out the candles on the table and turned to go to bed. After a moment's hesitation, Peter followed.
Notes: So there it is! Thanks so much for reading this and my previous fic!! As always, plz plz feedback and let me know what you think!