So here is Chapter 2. It's basically Chapter 1 only from Caspian's perspective. Enjoy!

Peter Pevensie.

An odd yet wonderful name. Alas, why did it have to belong to such an arrogant, self-centered boy. The day we met he acted so confident, so conceited. Shooting snide remark after snide remark at me. I wanted to punch him.

I had thought he'd be older, but I also thought that he would possess less of a high and mighty attitude. I had always hoped he'd be humble. I realized that was not to be.

He wasn't all bad. The first thing I noticed were his eyes. The blue orbs that sucked me in like an endless ocean. Tearing myself away was surprisingly difficult.

The day before the attack on the Telmarine castle, I felt strangely confident and despite my disagreements with the plan. Peter had asked me to spar with him and I felt the need to prove myself as a fighter since I had failed to prove myself as a strategist.

I tried to lighten the mood by jokingly saying, "So are you any better with a blade than you were the other day?"

I hadn't meant to make him mad, but that was the result.

"Very funny," he said, "I have been out of practice for a year."

There was hurt in his eyes. I felt terrible, but for some reason, stupid remarks continued to escape my lips.

"And have you forgotten a lifetime of skill in such a short time." The moment I said it I regretted it. He looked at the ground and grasped the hilt of his sword. He muttered so quietly I strained to hear him.

"It feels like ages." Our eyes locked as we looked up and I felt instantly guilty. I should never have brought up Peter's time away from Narnia. I could never have imagined leaving Narnia and I should have never brought up such a sensitive topic. I could see pain and sadness behind the arrogance in Peter's eyes. I decided it was best to just start our fight.

I gripped my sword and lunged. Not enough to hurt, just to get started. He blocked the blow and pushed my blade back. We continued to fight, but I was a bit hesitant because I could tell he wasn't giving it his all. I was starting to worry that I had hurt him deeply with my comments.

Suddenly I swung my blade up to block his blow. Our swords crashed together and I pushed him back against a tree. Our swords were still lifted and pressed together. My grip slackened a bit and our breath was coming in heavy pants. I looked at him and felt his hot breath on my cheeks.

Our eyes locked. It was amazing the way his blue eyes seemed to pierce mine. There was something in them that I couldn't quite pinpoint, but I felt a strange yet wonderful shiver shoot down my spine. Finally I managed to pull away.

"Perhaps we should stop," I said staring at the ground, "We should rest before the attack."

I heard him let out a breathless yes, and told myself it was because he was out of breath from fighting. I sheathed my sword and gave him a quick nod before walking back towards the How.

Why? Why had I gotten a sudden, burning desire to crush him against the tree and kiss him senseless. I tried to tell myself that I was worked up from fighting, and nervous for the attack. This was High King Peter and besides, I had never felt attraction to a man.

I hated him. He was arrogant and pompous, so I hated him. Right?

Then I thought of his eyes. They burned in my vision. No one had ever stared at me like that and I don't think I'd ever looked at anyone like that before today. So what was this? Did I have feelings for Peter? High King Peter? I had no clue and I wrestled with the thought well into the night as I attempted to sleep.

My mind was racing. We had lost. We had lost not only the battle, but we had also lost many innocent Narnian lives. And then there was my uncle. What was I going to do? He had killed him. He had killed my father. My whole life had been flipped upside down, and it felt as though moments later there I had been, leaving so many behind, and waiting anxiously for Peter to jump the bridge.

The ride back to the How had been a blur. None of us talked. There were stolen glances between Peter and I and all I even saw in his eyes was rage and disappointment. Susan and Edmund said very little to me, but at least they exchanged some words with me and acknowledge that I was alive.

We arrived at the How and it was there, that Peter's anger finally burst.

"What happened?" Lucy asked as she walked out of the How with the other Narnians that had stayed.

"Ask him," Peter said bitterly nodding towards me.

"Me? You could have called it off, there was still time," I shot back furiously, staring at him with rage in my eyes.

"No there wasn't thanks to you. If you'd kept to the plan those soldiers might be alive right now," Peter said, glaring at me, a dangerous fire burning in his eyes.

"And if we'd stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be!" I yelled back. Why was he trying to blame me? Maybe I shouldn't have gone to my uncle, but wouldn't he have done the same thing if he found out that his uncle killed his own father. I stared at him preparing myself for the next angry remark.

He glared at me and yelled, "You called us remember!" We stepped closer to each other.

"My first mistake," I said gritting my teeth. I tried to stare as cruelly as I could. It was hard because even in anger, there was something captivating about Peter's eyes.

"No your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people!" My blood was boiling as he turned to go. Then I shouted,

"Hey!" I could feel that my face was contorted with rage and I continued, "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia!"

"You invaded Narnia!" I was sick of it. He was pointing a finger in my face and I pushed past him as he kept shouting, "You have no more right to lead them than Miraz does. You, him, your father! Narnia's better off without the lot of you!"

I froze. How could he? How could he have the nerve to bring my father into this? I grasped my sword and turned pointing it at his throat. Our anger had reached a boiling point, and I'm pretty sure one of us may have died or been seriously hurt if Edmund hadn't yelled at us.

We all turned to see Trumpkin being lowered to the ground. Lucy removed her healing cordial and ran to his side.

I felt terrible. Here we were arguing and there was Trumpkin dying before our eyes. Thankfully Lucy revived him, but I did not stay much longer. I turned and walked into the How not looking back. I had almost killed him. I had almost killed Peter. And now here I was walking away feeling a strange tugging at my heart that had nothing to do with battle fatigue.

Author's Note: Ok please review! The next chapter will be so much more interesting!