Thank you Queensclaw for being my first reviewer
Chapter 2
One week later…
Caspian felt his eyes lightly close as the soft, evening breeze wafted up towards the castle from the forest. Dusk was fast approaching, thus ending his first week as King. With a sigh, the young King's lowly opened his eyes and gazed at the darkening landscape displayed before him underneath the comfort of his balcony.
He was King. He was the King of Narnia. Less then a week ago, he was the Prince who fled into the forest with Miraz's guard close behind him, and now those same guards were sworn to protect and serve him as King. He was more than grateful when they did so, even if he was a little weary of them. Especially since Miraz's former General was still in command.
Glozelle's decision to stay behind while most of Miraz's army and supporters left through the veil that Aslan had created had surprised the young King greatly. He wouldn't have blamed the General if he had left, but hearing Glozelle declare that he would rather stay behind left him both afraid and relieved. Glozelle had severed Miraz so loyally and so fiercely over the years. The tales of the General's many campaigns and victories in Miraz's honor were widely told throughout the castle as Caspian grew up, but to the young King himself, Glozelle's images were that of the warm and fatherly soldier who first taught him how to hold a sword properly - against Miraz's wishes. If it wasn't for the General's teachings he wouldn't have survived against Miraz's forces.
However, a part of his mind refused to forget that Glozelle had, in the end, betrayed his uncle and lead the Telmarines against the Narnians along with Lord Sopespian. Both men had risked treason for Miraz's removal and for the war. And, while Lord Sopespian had perished during the war and was laid to rest, Glozelle still had to live with being labeled as a traitor among the Telmar court.
A chill suddenly nipped at his skin, and with a calm sigh, Caspian turned and retreated into his bedchamber, closing the balcony door after himself. Glozelle may have been branded as a traitor but he couldn't easily forget the General's hesitance to raise his blade against him when they crossed paths on the battlefield, and a part of the King somehow knew that the General never would have. Any other memories of the battle were still a blur to him; the fighting had all happened so fast and was over very quickly in his eyes.
His eyes glanced around his new room, the King's chambers that used to belong to first his father and then his uncle later, and now it belonged to him. The chill brushed against his skin even more as he neared his bed, causing him to shiver despite the warmth his thick robe offered. Caspian glanced at the fire place, making sure the flames were crackling brightly in their enclosure before making his way towards the plush bed in the center of the room.
As he pulled the bedding aside, the light in the room dimmed slightly and Caspian glanced over his shoulder at the fireplace again. The flames had been extinguished, leaving the logs still glowing red and smoking heavily. Confused, Caspian walked to the fireplace and examined the logs, prodding them gently with the iron poker. They relit a moment later, the flames suddenly bursting forth from the logs as if they had been burning all along with no dimness to their glow.
Feeling more confused then before, Caspian merely blinked and turned back towards the bed. As he did so, he froze when his eyes saw a figure standing near the foot of his bed. He recognized the man immediately and the chill settled into his skin with a darker force.
"Ambrose…"
The air vanished from his lungs the moment he uttered the name. He knew instantly where the sudden chill in the room had come from.
"I'm honored you remember me, my King." The man spoke; his voice holding a smooth edge to it that caused Caspian's skin to crawl.
Caspian swallowed deeply and slowly stood up, positioning himself as close as he could to the fire place.
"What are you doing here? How—"
His was cut off by the man's laughter.
"Your castle is easy enough for me to enter without expending much effort. A child could enter and leave without your guards seeing."
Caspian eyed him darkly. Remaining as still as he possibly could, Caspian reached for the iron poker once again, carefully concealing the rod behind his back and out of Ambrose's sight. This man had easily overpowered King Peter, he wasn't about to take chances.
"What is it that you want?" The King of Narnia asked, his fingers curling around the make-shift weapon behind his back.
Ambrose's eyes silently roamed up and down the young King's form, making the youth shiver mentally. Caspian's gaze was locked on the man's right eye, the pale blue one, knowing full well what power it held.
With a deep sigh, Ambrose took a step closer. "You cost me something precious young one. Did you honestly think I would forget about that?"
Caspian's body went numb, his fingers still clutched tightly around the rod. Those words stirred up dark memories in his head. He remembered walking through the tunnels in Aslan's How and seeing this man in the darkness, seeing his hands on King Peter.
"Feels good doesn't it son of Adam?"
"More - more please…so cold."
Ambrose took another step closer and another. Within moments, he was standing an arms-length away from the King of Narnia.
"You will do in Peter's stead."
Those words seemed to set off a reflex because Caspian swung the rod out from behind his back, aiming at the man in front of him. Ambrose side-stepped it without much effort and grabbed his arm. The youth cried out as his arm was painfully twisted behind his back, forcing his fingers to loosen around the weapon until it fell to the floor with a metal clang.
"Such fire…" Ambrose purred against his neck, his voice causing goose bumps to form on the King's skin. "I heard the Telmarines were fighters, but I never would've guessed they were this spirited."
Caspian cried out once again, hoping the guards patrolling his level would hear him. Ambrose seemed to sense his intention because his hand pressed over the King's mouth a quick moment later.
"You are mine now, young one…and I plan to enjoy you."
Ambrose's statement ended with a quick swipe of his tongue against the King's neck, relishing at the increase of the boy's pulse. As much as he wanted to enjoy the boy's fighting, he didn't have the strength to deal with any unwanted intruders the boy might attract or call out for.
With one powerful move, Ambrose grabbed the young King's shoulder and forcibly spun him around until they were face to face. Caspian tried to turn his head away, knowing full well what the man was trying to do, but before he could do so, Ambrose grabbed his chin with his strong fingers and forced their eyes to meet.
A deep glow settled inside of Ambrose's right eye as the blue orb bore into Caspian's dark brown ones. The King suddenly felt more cold than he'd ever felt in his life. His body felt like he'd fallen into the river during the peak of winter, despite the warmth that lingered inside of his chambers. His resolve weakened greatly, and Ambrose sighed happily when the warm body in his arms fell limp as it tried to fend off the coldness that was now taking over. With a dark, yet satisfied, grin, Ambrose gently eased the Telmarine to the bed. Through the thick haze inside his head, Caspian registered his back hitting his bed heavily. With a groan, he tried to right himself and roll to his side but he found himself suddenly pinned under a heavy weight.
Warmth slowly started seeping into his body as the weight settled on top of him, reaching him through the intense cold. It then dawned on him that the weight – and the warmth - was none other than Ambrose's own body. Repulsed, Caspian pushed the man's body off of him weakly, acknowledging that Ambrose allowed it because he offered no resistance.
"No…"
Ambrose leered down at him like a hawk, his eyes holding an amused glint.
"If you fight me, my King, you will never be warm." He purred darkly, leaning close to the King's ear and nipping at it lightly with his teeth. "I'm sure the cold is unbearable."
Caspian shivered and turned his head away, refusing to look him in the eye. Ambrose merely grinned and slid a hand down Caspian's clothed chest, silently admiring the firmness he felt. The boy may be young, but he was indeed impressive. His fingers slid in-between the folds of the boy's robe, pleased when he felt soft, naked skin underneath. Caspian tried as hard as he could to stop his gasps from leaving his mouth but it grew increasingly difficult as the warmth from Ambrose's fingers was circling through his entire body, keeping the harsh cold at bay.
"Feels delightful, doesn't it, young one?"
Caspian's reply was a choked moan, his body silently willing for the man to keep touching him. He wanted – needed - the warmth the stranger's hands were giving him. He wanted anything to keep the cold in his body at bay. Anything…
Ambrose gazed down at the writhing boy under him, thoroughly enjoying the struggling. Oh, he was going to enjoy this boy that was for sure. Caspian may have cost him the first boy he set his eyes on but that hardly mattered now; he doubted the blond would've been more pleasing then the young Telmarine would be.
His fingers slipped even further down the boy's body and Caspian was helpless to do anything but moan softly, welcoming the warmth circling inside of his body from the touches. The single tear that fell from the youth's eyes shortly afterwards was a welcome sight.
