Authors Note: I have newly formed respect for every single author out there, How do you guys do it? You're all so amazing!

Alrighty then, again, I offer my sincerest apologies. I went waaaaayyy overboard with the descriptive detail in the first few paragraphs of this one. I tried to read it back to myself and I was just like "…Whaaa? What does that even mean?" But then the later paragraphs progress to quickly and don't really flow. Ugh. Honestly, How do you guys do it?

After simplifying it majorly it's still rather confusing. But honestly, I can't be bothered rewriting it. I am so so so sorry. Hopefully I'll conjure up the effort to fix it, if you guys really find it a problem.

Again, I am so very sorry. But please endure it for my sake, I spent so long on this chapter, on the whole I'm not very happy with it, but I must say, I am quite proud of the argument between Peter and Caspian. Please review, I would love you muchly for it. Thanks hugely!

Once more, Rosie is a goddess! Many endless thanks for Betaing my story!

Disclaimer: As much as I would like to own Ben Barnes and William Moseley, I don't and never will. Yes, I know, the world is such an unfair place.


Four days had passed since the catastrophic failure to conquer a castle and dethrone Miraz, four days since the ardent collision between Prince and King. Aslan's How seemed burdened by immense strain, the whole of the Narnian army subject to the crippling tension permeated by Peter and Caspian, who both obstinately refused to make amends with each other.

In point of fact, both men fell into a stubborn state of adamant avoidance. Evading each other in hallways, shunning each other at meal times; High King and Telmarine Prince determined to blatantly ignore the other indefinitely.

However, Caspian secretly felt the faintest pang of emptiness, the prolonged deprivation of Peter's invigorating presence an unusual sensation to the Prince.

Prolonged? It had been a mere four days.

Still, he retained his poignant hostility for the High King, his offenses still fresh in Caspian's mind.

And what Peter would never admit is that guilt was starting to plague his being. He was truly contrite; genuinely remorseful for his actions but unable to confess as much. So instead he continued to uphold his indifferent veneer; whilst enduring nights of fitful sleep and suffering sporadic bouts of anguish, as the rest of the Pevensie children were forced to play spectator to Peter's inner turmoil.

On the eve of the fifth day, Edmund finally approached Peter, weary of his immaturity and this incessant avoidance routine. It had to end some time.

Edmund found Peter lying amidst the tall grass in the outskirts of Aslan's How; leisurely gazing at the dusky sky and watching the sun recede into the lush hills of Narnia. As Edmund stood over his elder brother, he mused that another might presume Peter to be in a content, tranquil mood. But Edmund knew better. Peter's facial expression and voluntary self isolation (and the fact that he had barely acknowledged his sibling's presence) betrayed his distress.

Not one to hesitate, the younger Pevensie sat down next to his brother, sighed, and proceeded to breach the subject of Prince Caspian.

"Just apologise to him, Pete."

Peter, annoyed that his solitude had been disrupted, rolled his eyes and retorted.

"What for? He started it."

"Um, actually Peter, I think you'll find that you were the instigator in this situation."

After a moment of unresponsive silence, Edmund persisted "C'mon Pete, there's a war going on, your soldiers need you."

"But why should I have to apologise first?" Whined Peter, sounding not unlike a spoilt child.

"Didn't we just cover the part about you instigating this whole thing?" Asked Edmund, smile stretching his face and voice threaded with a teasing tone.

Peter sat up and returned the grin, before reverting to his somber demeanor, face falling in submission. It wasn't fair for him to drag his family and friends through his own personal issues. And he had indeed put this off long enough.

"I suppose I do need to apologise, if only for the sake of everyone else."

And then, in resolute determination, he added "Alright! I'll do it… but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Peter replaced his taut frown with a smile once more and Edmund chuckled approvingly, slapping Peter on the back in a brotherly display of affection. And with that, Peter bounded from his sitting place, embarking on a stalwart and steadfast march into the keep of Aslan's How, on a quest for Prince Caspian.

With purposeful strides the High King advanced towards the storm hold, each step more buoyant than the last, becoming elated at the prospect of seeing Caspian. An admission Peter would never declare aloud.

He ambled through the dim light inside the stone complex, torches doing little to ward off the ever oppressing dark as he inspected cave after cave. Anxiety fused with conviction urging him forward. It was only a matter of minutes.

At last, the paths of King and Prince entwined once more as Peter stumbled into a large hollow to discover Caspian austerely pacing, his current apprehension accentuated by his rigid frame and pensive face.

Caspian, aware that he was no longer alone, lifted his head and regarded Peter with a look of utter contempt, clearly annoyed at the intrusion.

"What do you want?" He asked rather bluntly.

The Prince's shortness pained Peter, and he buckled beneath the flittering nerves arising in his chest. He sighed, obviously no longer in possession of the confidence he held just moments prior.

Hands fidgeting and fumbling slightly, Peter vocalized his motive for seeking Caspian out.

"I, uh, wanted to apologise for my behavior the other day. I just wanted to… I th-thought that… Well what I mean is-" Peter sighed again. When had he become a blundering fool? A rather illiterate blundering fool at that. "-I'm sorry, Caspian."

The blonde exhaled heavily, his apology sincere and true.

Caspian simply stared, expression blank. His rich chocolate eyes conveyed a nothingness that perturbed Peter as the High King waited expectantly for a reply. Yet none came, the Prince merely stood; feet planted and legs rooted to the soil standing beneath him. Still Peter waited, enduring the insufferable silence till he could no more, shattering the quiet with a simple question;

"Well?"

"…Well?" Mimicked Caspian, not quite comprehending. "Oh, expecting a reply, were you?"

Caspian paused, the festering animosity that he had held for Peter the few days past came seeping out, like a vile concoction of abhorrence and hate, laced with something else... Something unnamable, something the Prince dared not think about. "Your siblings couldn't alleviate your guilt, and now I'm you last resort. Apologising in hopes of soothing your conscience? Very noble indeed."

The High King was flabbergasted. Along side his now inflamed resentment towards Caspian, Peter felt humiliated upon the rejection of his apology; a feeling which only served to fuel his anger.

"Excuse me? Unlike yourself, I was able to disregard pride and apologise for my actions!" He exclaimed lividly.

"Shall I profess my eternal undying gratitude now, or would you prefer I wait?"

"I would prefer that one of Miraz's attempts on your life be successful, but then, we can't always get what we want!" Barked Peter in quick retaliation.

Caspian looked as though he had been struck across the face. Peters eyes widened with the realization of what he said. He tried to stammer out a rushed apology, but it fell on deaf ears, Caspian had already stormed out of the cave.

Peter groaned internally. Not again.


I am so sorry to leave it like that again! I hope the repetitive-ness isn't too annoying. Sorry! But I must say, I'm really excited about the next chapter. "Forbidden Colours." It's half written already, and should be up soon, AND we finally get some fluff!

Please review! Pleeeaaaase? You know you want too. XD Thanks so much!