Author's Note: May I please prewarn you quotes used won't be exactly, or perhaps even close to those of the movie. I begin differentiating from the plot here, but it doesn't excuse my lack of quote memorisation. For the Black dwarf's speech especially, please forgive me.
Caspian was beginning to wonder if he was bipolar, after the intense exhilaration he'd felt from jumping the High King (He could just imagine his professor asking, 'so Caspian, what did you do today?', 'Oh, I just jumped and had a battle of sexual tension with the High King of Narnia.') he felt a crushing depression, mostly fuelled by the aforementioned High King's prolonged smirk. So, they were competing in maturity now? Resisting the urge to stalk after pretty boy and force the smirk off of his face, Caspian maturely turned on his heel and walked away. Although his walk was more of a bad tempered stalk, and his face was undoubtedly pouting.
He began down the corridor to the room housing the broken stone table, to wrapped up in his thoughts to notice as he nearly knocked over the grumpy dwarf. He was forced out of his fantasies about avenging Peter in a rather improper manner when he felt someone tug on his arm. It was the short dwarf, or were all dwarves that short?
"There's someone who can help you." A gruff voice about three feet below Caspian whispered. Someone the dwarf knew could help him deal with the temperamental High King? And perhaps revert his sexual preference back to women? But the dwarf went on to feed him stories of himself regaining the kingdom, and he admitted he was mildly distracted from his Peter issues, regaining anger from the realisation that his uncle had killed his father.
"You want you're kingdom back, we can get it for you, and what we want, you can get for us." The dwarf leered (which was very impressive for someone so short). Caspian didn't know why he did it, he just did. He found himself following after the stunted magical creature with an undoubted determination; it was probably because he found the situation very good at distracting himself from a certain smirk which had been replaying In his head for the last five minutes. He swaggered into the Chamber confidently; he was going to regain the kingdom without the High King's help. Caspian One, Peter Zero.
Peter inhaled the fresh air readily, it calmed down his overly tensed muscles and cleared his sore throat, growling obviously wasn't good for it. He leant against a pillar, looking up at the brief gaps in the ceiling that showed the night sky. Was it the same sky as back home? He remembered thinking the same thoughts last time they'd come here. But this time, Peter didn't feel the need to return home so badly. There was so much here he had to do, so many people that were relying on him. And one certain person who was undeniably becoming increasingly important to him.
"Peter!" The scream broke him out of his happy little philosophical debate. He looked over to see a panicked Lucy gasping for breath, he freckled cheeks a violent shade of red and glistening with sweat.
"Caspian, in the chamber!" She gasped, nearly falling over as Peter flew past her.
Caspian felt like he was on the verge of tears as he held up a furiously trembling hand, the painful red gash across it dripping with his blood. The Blood of a son of Adam. The white witch's cold, cruel face was looking down on him, every piece of sense and logic in his body was furiously fighting to get away, his head was screaming at him to turn and run. But there was that sneaky want in the back of his head, the devil's temptation was calling him to just try, just to see what would happen. It was his chance to gain ultimate power, he'd regain his kingdom with a force that had kept even Aslan at bay for 100 years. He stretched a few millimetres higher, his fingers grasping desperately for the long, pale ones that were urging him on. The blood continued to drip from his hand.
"Caspian!" Came a yell from a voice that set his mind on fire. Distracted, he twisted his head an inch to look for Peter, who he spotted battling furiously, trying to reach him. His natural reaction was a mixture of relief and joy, Peter had come to save him! But there was that side which the witch had control over, turning his emotions into a bitter resentment, oh, so the High King was coming to take his glory. He began to reach again for the white palm just a few centimetres in front of him, but Peter was getting closer at a faster pace than he could fight his natural instincts. He was knocked out of the circle with a force he didn't know Pretty boy was capable of.
Peter grinned triumphantly, he had nobly saved Caspian from the clutches of evil, his honour had been restored upon him. Plus Caspian was okay, which he suppose mattered quite a bit to. But a chilling sensation was winding itself up his limbs, and he felt himself become frozen to the spot, a cold wind brushing his neck as he recognised the voice which called his name in a hiss. The dagger was in his hand without his acknowledgement of it, the blood was on his hand before he even began to feel the pain which should have accompanied the cut. The hateful eyes that were trapped behind the sheet of ice had transfixed his against his will, and every desire he'd ever felt was brought forth as he felt himself drawing closer and closer with his blood cloaked hand to the ghostly embodiment, every second he felt himself forgetting more and more of his morals, his knowledge of what he was doing was wrong felt as if it was being proved wrong simply by time. His fingertips brushed the witch's.
Shattering. Caspian felt a resonating shock run through out his body as the ear splitting sound of ice shattering rang out in the chamber, and the wall of solid ice cascaded down to the floor, the ghostly witch disappearing with it. The slight figure of Edmund, pretty boy's younger and not so pretty sibling, was posed very heroically, his sword withdrawn from the ice sheet.
"I know, you had it." He muttered to his brother as he walked off, taking no glory from the situation. Caspian could see Peter collapsed on the ground, trembling. Vulnerable. Caspian felt a highly inappropriate smile play on his lips at the opportunity glowed temptingly. He knew that perhaps the timing was wrong, but he was most certainly not wrong to recognise that now, Peter was at his weakest. Everyone else in the room had left, either to spread the word or to recover from the shock away from the battle scene. Caspian, being a spoilt prince, couldn't resist.
Peter could feel himself shaking, he knew it wasn't very High King like, but the sudden force and loss of emotion had left his senses and brain fried. Yet still surprise managed to dimly flicker as his rival offered him his hand to pull him up off of the floor. Entwining his fingers in the strong ones of the prince, Peter allowed himself the shame of being helped up by the Prince. He pulled his hand to try and distance himself from the smug looking olive skinned boy, but his hand was not released. Very much against his will, he was dragged by the hand across the chamber, down one of the minor corridors that lead off from it, and forced into a small opening which was depicting the creatures that had been at the ritual of killing Aslan at the stone table. And then, as he stood alone in a dark cave with a precariously smirking prince, he realised just how much danger he was in.
Caspian loved the look of shocked realisation that took pretty boy's face as he realised just what kind of situation he was in. Caspian pulled Peter into him, breaking the boy's posture in on tug, and then crushing all resistance as he tightly locked his arms around his back. He looked down at the tired and frightened eyes of his ranking superior, and felt thrills go up his spine as he came to the terms that he had caused this, he had broken the High King. Gently, he pressed his lips against the side of the High king's, going slowly so as not to break his new toy. He paused to fiddle with the blonde hair of his rival, gently tilting the boy's head back so he'd have the advantage. Usually, he'd of expected more of a struggle, more defiance and irritation from the High King at being manipulated, but the slender back and arms that were weakly holding onto him had no strength left in them. Feeling extremely smug, Caspian allowed himself to pull at Peter's lips, testing him for reactions and loving as each one turned out to be as weak as the last.
Peter could tell Caspian wanted a battle, he was openly teasing him with his slow yet dominating movements, but Peter couldn't find the will to resist as he felt a gentle and almost welcome pull on his lips. Instead, he let Caspian do the work, letting his lips part easily as Caspian curiously poked them with his tongue. Each time he showed weakness, he could visibly measure the joyful reaction in his rival, but instead of sending him into a competitive rage, he just smiled at the thought of his submissiveness amusing the Male so much. Perhaps, he's won, in the sense that Caspian was so fixated on him. Just being able to ellicitate those kinds of reactions from the Male made him feel as if he'd won in something. Just what he was winning though, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was something as cheesy as being Caspian's heart. In that moment of gently sweetness, he wasn't sure he cared.
Caspian felt Positively alive, compared to the dead weight of his little High King. He'd already dominated his mouth, meeting almost no resistance as Kingy's biggest motion had been to pull gently back on his lips, as if just to prove that he was paying attention, to depict his interest. Enjoying the sweet sensation of their mouth's movement to much to use his mouth to explore further, Caspian turned to his hands and began to use them to investigate his rival futher than his eyes had allowed him. The white shirt and loosely fitting metal plate were easy to navigate under, and Caspian felt a small electric shock as he touched the forgiving skin of Peter's back, the feeling of fragility raged even stronger, and Caspian's sense of power over his superior grew even stronger as he carefully ran his index finger over the line on the boy's spine, feeling the defined bobble of each segment of his spine. The Male in his arms made a small whimpering noise as his warm fingers pushed on the sensitive area below Peter's cool neck.
Peter could feel the flames scorching his back, and relished in the strength of their being, since the rush with the witch his emotions had felt dulled and subdued, but the heat that had locked onto his back was as strong as anything he'd ever felt. Regaining some small ounce of strength, Peter showed off his new confidence by playfully biting Caspian's lower lip. The tender exploration which had been developing was sparked off into an excitement, and Caspian's fingers became rougher as they traced the indents around his collarbone, as they pressed against the sharp line of his shoulders.
Then they heard the voices.
Both boys looked up with a startled expression as they heard people beginning to come into the chamber outside their little corridor. Pulling himself off of Peter, Caspian straightened himself up and ran a hand through his hair to regain his sense, then smirked at the startled boy in front of him, who was a definite shade of pink.
"Well, that was fun." Caspian whispered, tucking Peter's shirt back in for him, and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Walking out of the chamber, trying to look troubled and worried (which wasn't too hard considering he was about to go to war against his father's murderer) Caspian allowed himself a brief smile as he pointed out to himself that he was the one leaving first this time. It was undoubtly a victory. But some part of him, the lust and excitement which had been triggered, seemed to of been left back in the chamber with the confused Blonde boy. Fascinating.