Note: I apologize for the misspelling of Telmarine in earlier chapters of this story. My spell-check has a mind of its own.

Part 7

It was still before daybreak when Peter heard the royal trumpets merrily announcing the day of the coronation – the day Prince Caspian would be crowned king. There were many preparations to be made, formalities to be played through, and proper functions to be attended. Although he hadn't inquired about it, he knew that Caspian's schedule was bound to be inundated with appointments and rehearsals. Needless to say, the act of becoming king was not a trivial affair and needed to be treated with the utmost care and respect. Attention to detail was most important. But those very details were the source of Peter's headache.

Peter felt Caspian shift in his arms and casually stroked the palm of his hand over the prince's hip before squeezing his firm buttocks possessively. And why shouldn't he? Caspian was his now to do with as he pleased.

The spacious chambers that were designated for the future king of Narnia left nothing up to chance. Anything that the young prince had the need for was provided in abundance. There were plenty of embroidered pillows and cushions lining the bed in royal reds and blues. Golden tassels hung from both ends of the woolen blankets that covered the expansive bed. The walls were decorated with some form of bizarre carvings and those were toned down by the serene paintings of wondrous creatures and beautiful landscapes surrounding them. On a long wooden table at the far end of the room were grooming materials that Peter supposed were meant for the hair… or perhaps they were for leather boots? And he wasn't entirely certain what Caspian needed a whole wardrobe full of capes and frilly shirts, for. There were only so many days in a week, and plenty of servants being kept busy on any one of them. It just seemed more practical to wash the shirts, rather than have enough of them to last a fortnight before having to cycle through them again.

By the bed, someone had left an old copper pot of herbal tea that Peter had sampled during the night. It had most likely been hot when it had been left there, but it wasn't when he forced the god-awful brew down his throat. Beside the pot were sweet cakes and a few pieces of dried meat should Caspian feel hungry. There had been more earlier on, but both Peter and Caspian had gone through half of them after their second bout of lovemaking.

When Peter leaned over to the side of the bed to pick up another sweet cake, Caspian moaned softly, finally stirring from his pleasant slumber thanks to Peter's wandering hands. "Morning, my prince," Peter said cheerfully as he took a bite of the slightly dry snack, dropping crumbs all over the fine linen.

"Good morning, Peter," Caspian replied as he raised his head off of Peter's chest to look up at him, his eyes bright and his smile warm.

"How did you sleep?"

"Quite peacefully. And you?" Caspian stretched, pausing when he felt Peter's hand glide suggestively down the backs of his thighs.

"You're not getting up just yet." Having finished his pre-breakfast snack, Peter brushed his hand off on the bed sheets and propped himself up on a bunch of cushions, pulling Caspian up with him. "We need to talk."

"Have you figured out a solution to our dilemma?" Caspian asked hopefully.

"I have," Peter replied confidently.

"That's wonderful news!"

Peter frowned, not wanting to be the one to ruin that beautiful smile of Caspian's, but not really having a choice in the matter. "However, I guarantee that you aren't going to like it."

"And why is that? If we can be together, isn't it worth any amount of hardship we must endure? Peter, you promised-."

Peter pressed his fingers to Caspian's lips, silencing him. "This isn't about me, Caspian. This is about you. There is nothing I can do to hold this relationship together. I have already considered many possibilities and come to the conclusion that you are the key to our future."

"Me?" Caspian brushed Peter's fingers aside and gazed at him suspiciously. "Could you please elaborate on what it is you believe I am capable of doing?"

"Give up the throne." There, he'd said it. And, as expected, it didn't take long for Caspian to react indignantly to his understated plan.

"Why in Narnia's good name would I do that? Both the Telmarines and the Narnians have need of a new ruler, someone to unite them and see them through these trying times. But you would have me abdicate the throne and abandon my people? To what end? And who would take my place?"

"I would." Peter slid his fingers through Caspian's longish, wavy hair, and pulled tight to hold him still as he kissed him passionately on the mouth. When he had silenced Caspian's protests, he shared more details of his carefully crafted plan. "You are right that Narnia needs a new ruler, but it doesn't have to be you. If you refuse to accept the throne, they will be forced to search for someone to take your place. They won't have to look far because I will volunteer. That way I will be allowed to stay in Narnia, and we will be able to stay together. Forever."

"But that would leave me a prince, indefinitely," Caspian mused, and not in a good way. "How are a king and a prince going to remain together in this world? There has never been mention of such a thing in all the annals of Narnia."

"That, my dear Caspian, is the easy part. Once I become king, I will change whatever laws need to be changed, and I will keep you by my side as my partner."

"Partner?" Caspian distastefully repeated the word Peter had chosen and pushed away from his lover.

"Marriage partner," Peter specified, pulling Caspian back into his arms. "That is what you want, isn't it? You think I have forgotten what you said last night? You worried about us making love before we were wed. Of course you stupidly didn't consider that there are currently laws in place that forbid us from doing so. If I become king, I will change those laws, and then you may choose whatever title suits you best. I really don't care about anything other than being with you, Caspian." When Caspian remained silent, running his fingers thoughtfully up and down Peter's arm, Peter smirked. "After what we did last night, there is no need to be so shy. Is that a yes? You do want to marry me?"

"Yes, Peter. I want no less than that," Caspian said honestly, feeling the weight of what he was agreeing to in his heart. The idea of spending all eternity with Peter was like a fantasy he had never dared to entertain before now. But his lover sounded so sure of himself that Caspian finally allowed himself to imagine a future with the brash warrior who was supposedly destined to leave Narnia before the end of the day.

"So, you will make the announcement this morning? Before Aslan forces me to leave?"

"That is not a question that you even have to ask."

Practically bursting with joy, Peter climbed over Caspian to straddle his hips and pressed him down into the mattress, covering his face and body with kisses.

The morning festivities, although grand, were on nowhere near as magnificent a scale as the evening festivities were rumored to be. Narnians and Telmarines alike were gathered inside the courtyard outside the castle, chatting excitedly about what they hoped would be a glorious coronation. Prince Caspian had more than proven himself worthy of the throne, and was known as a kind and honest youth, qualities that were valued above all else in Narnia. Not many people had actually met Caspian, and that was what most of the buzz was about. What would the real Caspian be like in person? Was he all that the gossip said he was?

A hush fell over the crowd when Caspian appeared at the far end of the courtyard, wearing a rich cream and silver silk shirt, the sleeves embroidered with royal symbols along the wrists. His dark green slacks were neatly pressed and tucked into his black leather boots that were laced up to the knees. His hair had been brushed exactly one hundred times so that it shone under the rising sun. Normally the king-to-be would be preceded by the current king, but since there wasn't one, Caspian walked out alone. Until he had reached the podium at which he was expected to speak, and then Peter marched purposefully up to him, ignoring the murmurs that floated through the crowd. Peter was most assuredly the only person present who noticed that Caspian was walking quite stiffly this morning.

Peter took his place behind Caspian, also dressed in a fairly decent light blue shirt and dark slacks, but with his sword slung over one hip. He hadn't bothered to comb his dirty blonde hair, having briefly paused in front of the mirror to just smooth it down. He knew that Caspian's short speech was going to make a very big impression on their audience. In order for the people to accept him as their king, Peter knew that he would have to present himself as such. A king needed to be powerful and assertive, and the sword and lack of care in his hairstyle conveyed to the crowd that he was a man of action, not pretense.

Once the crowd had quieted down, Caspian nervously raised his voice to be heard as far back as possible. "Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you kindly for honoring me with your presence today. I feel very fortunate and humbled to have garnered the support of so many wonderful people."

"Keep it short," Peter muttered from where he was scuffing his feet behind Caspian. The last thing they needed was for everyone to be drawn into a touching speech that ended in and I don't want to be your king. Better to get it over with quickly rather than making it painful by drawing it out.

"… but I am afraid that I have chosen to abdicate the thrown and have chosen someone worthier than myself to rule in my stead," Caspian went on to say, the crowd going into an uproar no sooner had the words left his mouth. "High King Peter would make a far more suitable king than myself, for he has the experience, the power, and the wisdom to rule this land." Caspian looked up briefly to catch sight of Aslan in the center of the sea of faces, his magnificent mane bristling with disapproval even as his eyes narrowed in warning. The great lion began to make his way through the middle of the gathering, men and women scurrying quickly about to clear a path for him. But it was already too late. Peter had already stepped forward to join Caspian at the podium.

"I would be honored to take Prince Caspian's place as king of Narnia," Peter announced proudly, squaring his shoulders and jutting out his chin to present himself to his people.

"You will do no such thing!"

Everyone in the audience turned to look at a stately man with short dark hair and green eyes, dressed all in black. He looked to be approximately ten or so years older than Caspian and Peter, but whereas Caspian had been raised as no more than a commoner under Miraz, this man seemed to have been brought up in a more decadent manner. He stepped forward to challenge Peter, his pompous attitude displayed all too clearly in the way he carried himself.

"And who are you to question the will of Aslan?" Peter demanded to know. This was not part of the plan. Nobody was supposed to object to Caspian's decision. He hadn't factored Caspian's ruling being questioned by anyone other than Aslan into his perfect plan, and it was already past the point where the mystical figurehead of Narnia could interfere. Once Caspian abdicated the thrown in front of this many witnesses, there was no way he could take retract his statement.

"I, Levarn, first son of Miraz hereby claim the throne that Caspian so foolishly forfeited," the man shouted to the audience, turning to address them directly. "As legendary a warrior as King Peter is, he has no right to the throne of Narnia. The law clearly states that should the chosen ruler die, abdicate the throne, or appear unfit for ruling, the next in the bloodline shall take his place. That man shall be me!"

When Levarn turned again to begin striding purposefully for the podium, Peter looked at Caspian, hoping for an explanation. But the nephew of the sinister Miraz showed no recognition of this so-called lost cousin and appeared to be too stunned for words. As Levarn got closer, he drew his sword, his focus entirely on Caspian. The crowd became riled up, voicing their confusion and displeasure at this turn of events.

As soon as Levarn got within striking distance, Peter took up a fighting stance in front of Caspian to protect him, drawing his own sword to bring it clashing up to meet the stranger's opening attack.

Please, please, please leave a review if you enjoyed reading this! There has only been 1 review in the past 5 years, which kind of makes me sad since reviews are kind of my only reward for spending hours writing this fic. :(