Chapter Fourteen: Ruins

Peter stepped out of the carriage when it drew to a stop in the distance of where Cair Paravel once stood. Where it was slowly being rebuilt. There had been more progress since they'd gone to Archenland, even more progress than the time they'd spent in Telmar. The walls had been reconstructed; the multiple spires poked out into the cerulean sky. It was going to be home again, they'd be leaving Telmar and going back to Cair Paravel…so long as Aslan allowed them to stay in Narnia.

He could see where the Great Hall was being formed; where they were crowned as the Kings and Queens of Narnia. Where they had audiences with those that needed their attention and problems tended to, where they had all celebrations. And as he stood staring at it, he pictured the inside perfectly.

The marble-stone, the tiled floor, the columns decorated with gold at the top and bottom, the curved stairway near the entrance that led to the balconies with gold railings, the open doorways that led to a balcony that overlooked the sea, the high dais that led to the thrones that belonged to him and his siblings, the glass roof. He remembered it all, and while he was excited to see it was coming to be the same, something heavy settled in his gut.

Peter swallowed hard, lowering his chin, remembering all the happier times. Birthday celebrations that had been for the Pevensies as well as for the magical creatures and those that worked the castle with them, celebrations of births and marriages, celebrations of victories over battles that had been brought upon their land, the yearly celebration of Jadis's defeat…and the anniversary of his own marriage.

It all flooded back to him in that moment, the excitement that swelled through the castle from the time they'd become engaged to when they tied the knot. The burgeoning excitement to when he and Diana whispered to each other about what their future children would be like, not simply to pass on the Pevensie name for Narnia, but for their own excitement of the extension of their family. He remembered the way he would find himself sweeping through many rooms and halls in the castle, greeting the servants and workers who would pause and give him a bow in greeting, only to be surprised by her tiny hand sliding into his, before a light giggle would reach his ears when he'd turn to face her.

"Scared you?" She'd always aske.

The answer was always, obviously, 'no', she couldn't scare him even if her life depended on it. When playing hide and seek, when trying to sneak up on him at all, her excited giggles would always give her away. Most of the time he pretended not to hear them, having to wipe away the smiles that came to his face, and pretend to be stern when warning her not to scare him in case he mistook her for an enemy.

He wondered if it were possible for giggles to haunt as much as screams.

"Your majesty." Peter turned to see the female centaur, Windmane quietly plodding toward him. Behind her was her husband Glenstrom and their children, Ironhoof, and Suncloud. Peter looked over the three—what should've been four—and quickly looked away. He sucked in a deep breath, puffing out his chest, and moved closer to the centaurs. "It's great to see you, again." She had an armful of apples that she gestured toward Peter to take.

He felt the sinking in his stomach elevate just slightly, a small smile coming to his face. Reaching out, he picked the biggest, juiciest apple she held and took a bite of it. The sweetness made him smile wider, chuckling to himself when he remembered how he and his siblings and Brielle had arrived back in Narnia.

How they had made their way from the beach to the outskirts of, what they didn't know at the time, was the ruins of their home. Peter remembered how he walked through the orchard, picking up an apple as he went. He buffed it against his chest, looked it over for a moment, then tossed it toward his youngest sister, calling her name to get her attention as he did so.

Lucy caught the apple with a smile, clutching it to her chest. "Thanks," she said then brought it to her mouth, taking a large bite. She looked to Susan and Edmund, who gazed upon the apple orchard that continued to stretch around them, flowers blossoming on the branches that sheltered them from the sweltering heat. Peter picked out another apple and pressed it into Brielle's palm before continuing forward. "Does anyone still have their sandwiches?" Lucy had then asked, voice muffled by the chunks of apple she worked around.

"Well," Peter said casually, practically stroking his chin as he did so. He tugged at the collar of the dress shirt below his sweater vest, working hard to remove the heat that became entrapped there with the overhanging sun. "I left mine in my bag, and I left my bag in the train station." He smiled at Lucy over his shoulder. "And then I left the train station in England."

"Why didn't you give any of us an apple then?" Edmund asked. He pressed a hand to his stomach, nudging Susan with his elbow. "Su and I may be hungry, too. Why just Lucy?"

"Because I'm his favorite," Lucy said with a bright smile, making a show of taking another bite of her apple.

Susan's eyebrows twitched upwards, the side of her mouth curling up into an amused smile. A knowing smile that made her blue eyes sparkle with mischief. "Then what'd you give her an apple for?" She tipped her head toward Brielle, who was examining the apple Peter had given her as if it were poison.

Peter sent a smirk toward Brielle as he replied, "To shut her up," making Brielle stick her tongue out at him in response. But she had been talking a mile a minute since their arrival at Narnia, going on about where they were and how she needed to get her hair and makeup fixed as soon as possible.

Peter wasn't sure if he would've preferred that or the way the centaur family was looking at him, waiting for any sort of response. He smiled up at her and said, "It looks like a lot of work has been done on Cair Paravel," that made each of the centaurs smile.

"Would you like to see what we've done up close?" Glenstrom asked. He nodded toward his children. "Take a break once you take patrol of the castle." Ironhoof and Suncloud nodded and went off to do as they were told. Glenstrom fell in line with Windmane and the two plodded toward the front of Cair Paravel with Peter following him. Only after looking to see what the knights of Archenland were to stay with the carriage.

They seemed to have little to no interest in what was to happen once Peter got where he was going. So long as he were to return. They stayed by the carriage, resting against the sides, looking anywhere but at the High King and the centaurs that escorted him inside.

"We still have the south side of the castle to rebuild, but with Caspian's support and the Telmarines that have come to aid in the building, it shouldn't be long until the kingdom is what it once was," Windmane said. She smiled at her husband. "Glenstrom has been putting long hours into the construction himself. I can hardly pull him away."

"There's more than enough that needs to be done," Glenstrom reminded her. "And I do it to bide my time." He lowered his head, then smiled to Peter. "When I'm not helping Caspian with his jousting skills."

"Well, that explains why he hasn't been able to defeat me in our sparring matches as of late," Peter joked back. Windmane chuckled in amusement while Glenstrom rolled his eyes, huffing quietly. His eyes shifted over the walls of the "You certainly have been putting in a lot of work here at the castle. It looks like it won't be much longer until it's completed."

"There's still the south side that needs to be completed," Glenstrom explained. "The turrets that have to be finished, exterior walls for extra protection. And there is the talk of potentially adding in a gate at the front, keeping anyone out that may try to sneak into our castle."

Peter's insides froze at the mention, froze at the dark turn that Glenstrom's voice took.

Slowly, everything around him became muffled, the tweeting and chirping of the birds around him drowned out by the sounds of a battle waging around him. Only, the sound of a battle that had been waged months before. Of the sound of the minotaur screaming as he worked to hold up the gate on Miraz's castle that was slowly starting to fall, holding the forces of Miraz's people back as the Narnian faction took down as many of them as they could.

Drowned out by the screams of those shot down in a bloody battle that Miraz pushed even further, sacrificing his own men to ruthlessly crumble the forces of the Narnian side, riddling them with arrows shot by his men that lined the balconies and walls of the castle courtyard. Drowned out by the then deafening silence with the screaming stopped, the silence following him like a nightmare as he sat on the back of his horse, running away as fast as he could, having to swallow the pain of not only letting down those that lay dead, but of letting down Aslan—if by name—as well.

Peter hadn't realized he'd wandered off, away from the centaurs until he allowed himself to break free from the memories he tried his hardest not to think about. Until he looked up and realized that he'd walked into the room that used to be his. A large room, the largest of the lot—he'd been quick to bagsy it when they'd been given a tour of Cair Paravel for the first time—the walls lined with brick and cobblestone, a large chandelier made of candles hanging from the ceiling. One wall held the most lovely of fireplaces, with seating and a table just around it, where he could sit and read when the time came.

On the other side was the largest of a four-poster bed, yellow draperies hanging off the side and matched the bedspread. Red pillows and other ornaments adorned the bed and the walls of the room, off-setting the brightest of yellows.

It was neater than he remembered, than he'd always been. He was messy yet organized…Diane was the one who truly made it so that he could stay organized with everything in their room. She'd put her own touch on things when she moved in, made sure not to take over too much of his things.

There was no trace of her in that room.

Peter walked to the window that overlooked the seaside, the sun setting just behind the horizon. Took in a deep breath, allowing the salty air to fill his lungs and give him some semblance of life. Something energized him as he stood in the window, looking at the mess below that seemed to be what would eventually be the rest of the place they'd call home. They hadn't had a home since returning to Narnia, he didn't realize how much he'd missed it.

"You seem like you have something on your mind, your highness."

Closing his eyes, Peter could practically hear Diane moving behind him, ready to place her hand lovingly into his, then, seconds later, bring her hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder gently stroking his neck. The lightest touch enough to send shivers down his spine. It was a hard habit for her to break, he realized, her calling him 'your highness' when she was, in fact, on the same level of title and power.

They'd always seemed to start each morning the same way, whether standing at the window or wrapped in each other's arms in bed, she would gently stroke her fingers over his face and question what was on his mind. A question that, if brought forward by his brothers or sisters, would irritate him like no other, but was somehow able to lower his defenses when she asked him. She asked him about his quests in battle, his dreams for the future, his nightmares, his hopes, how much he missed his parents back in England, his love for Narnia, asked for advice in political matters, and most importantly, was there for him as his best friend.

He could trust her, was always able to know that the decisions he'd made for Narnia was talked through for any and all potential loopholes that could be bought into. Then he'd bring it to his siblings, and the four of them would come up with the ultimate ruling that would come for whatever problem had come around.

She'd done enough in her own right, not simply sitting around and living under the title High Queen. She wanted to make a change for all women living in the court of Narnia to have a voice, to take hold of their own lives no matter what it was they wanted out of the future. And she'd left her mark on the way those in Narnia lived.

She'd sat back and waved him off to chase after the White Stag with a lighthearted comment of, The sooner you find that stag, the sooner you can come back and help me prepare this dinner."

"And what if I make it my wish that I'm no longer required to work those dinners of yours?" Peter replied with the brightest of smiles. "They're more difficult than half of the battles that I've ever gone into."

"That's why I need your help, love," Diane replied. She laughed to herself, gave him a kiss, and pushed on his shoulder. "Go. Go on. I'll be here when you get back."

How long did she wait? Peter stepped away from the window and turned to leave the room, unable to handle the silence much longer. He paused, stopping long enough for his eyes to dart toward the corner of the room. There was nothing there, but something had to have moved, hadn't it? Something dark and mysterious, looming and waiting to attack.

Maybe it was the stress of the journey, he reminded himself. The long journey to travel back to Narnia, all by himself with the guards from Archenland. Nothing along with him but the sounds of the carriages rolling and his thoughts moving through his brain. Thoughts of the treaty with Archenland, wondering how they were going to move in a more positive direction, how they would show the other kingdoms that Telmarine, now out of Miraz's rule, was a kingdom that could be trusted, how he and his brothers and sisters could bring their presence to Narnia once more. To show their subjects and those following them that Narnia could be restored to the way it was in the Golden Age.

Wondered how things were going to continue under a rule of, potentially, five kings and queens, if not under Caspian and what it would mean for him if he were to give up his control over a country he loved so much.

But all that was pushed to the wayside when with the quick shift of…something. Peter stared into the darkened corner of the room, the steadily darkening corner as the night sky darkened in equal measure. Stared, stared, stared at the swirling darkness that deepened among the dying embers of the fireplace. Stared until the darkness moved, the shadows shifting and swirling until eyes peered out at him from it.

Blinked once.

Peter jumped, hearing a door closing somewhere in the castle. He took in a deep breath and strode quickly out of the room and back down to the great hall. He passed by the Telmarine servants who looked back at him before looking away. Not wanting to invite him to join them, as if still ashamed of the ruling they had to live under. Though they were the innocents. Peter had to remind himself of that, they were as much victims of a heartless and cruel dictator than his direct cohorts.

"King Peter," Glenstrom called, his voice echoing over the partially built walls. All eyes turned his way as he edged closer to the king. Peter looked back at him, opened and closed his mouth. So many words rushed to him at once, words of apology, words to beg of forgiveness for the pain that he'd caused the centaur for losing one of his sons, blindly following him into battle. Glenstrom seemed to have noticed what Peter was trying to say, for he lowered his chin. "I understand," he said. "But it was our choice to continue showing our devotion to your and the other kings and queens. We understood what was possible to happen. I would not make a different choice, if it were possible to turn back time."

Peter nodded. He cleared his throat and nodded towards the outskirts of the castle. "I just wanted to get some air."

"Would you like some company?"

"I'll be fine."

Peter started again but stopped when Glenstrom continued. "I must remind you that Narnia isn't as strong as it used to be. The ruins of Cair Paravel are a shelter from the storm but aren't a complete defense for those that may want to take advantage of our weakness."

That was the same thing Peter had said to his siblings when he was about to leave Anvard. With a firm smile, Peter reached out and tapped his fingertips on the hilt of Rhindon that stuck out of the sheath hung at his side. "I can take care of myself," he said. Then drew himself to his full height and looked Glenstrom in the eye. "Now, I'm ordering you to spend your night with your family."

Glenstrom lowered his chin. "Then I must tell you that I'm doing it under duress, but by the order of my king." He turned and went to follow orders, to spend time with his family.

Peter left the castle, following the path he took up to Cair Paravel, but branched off to the right when he reached the Apple Orchard, heading toward the Treasure Room. He walked down the crumbling steps, feeling the temperature in the air change the further down he went. The flickering lights of the ever-burning candles cast an orange glow on the walls.

A glow that was snuffed out when he turned the corner and came face to face with four men staring back at him. They weren't Telmarines; they didn't have the Mediterranean colorings he knew of Caspian and the others had. The men before him were dark-skinned with long, scraggly beards that stretched down toward their barrel chests. Their flowing robes caught on the draft that breezed through the Treasure Room, wooden shoes scraped against the ground as they all turned themselves and their scimitars toward Peter.

Calormens.

Their beads stretched over their faces as they grinned the most evil grins, slowly menacingly, moving closer toward Peter.

"Fall back!" Peter had shouted when he was outnumbered, stuck in the middle of Miraz's courtyard, facing certain death.

But this time, there was no one for him to shout for. No one to get out of the way so he could protect them. His job, now, was to protect himself. And he'd do so until his last breath. He tightened his grasp around the handle of Rhindon, closely watching the men that encircled him.

Waited for them to make the first strike.

A/N: Well, the life of asking isn't easy and it certainly isn't when Peter's worrying over how Narnia is going to improve, how Cair Paravel needs to be restored, and the amount of guilt he feels over everything that happened at Telmar.

What do you think of the continued inclusions of scenes from the movies? I really think it helps move the story along! And it helps to flesh things out. Plus, the further inclusion of Diane and her past with Peter makes things interesting as well, but things with Maugrim are coming back and things are heating up with the next chapter. Also, longer chapters! Whoohoo!

Cheers,

-Riles