A/N: I rushed through the editing on this chapter, so apologies if it's not quite as clean as the others... I was a teensy bit distracted this week.

Chapter 20 Content Warnings: N/A

Chapter 20: would it be enough, if i could never give you peace?

Addie

Miraz must suspect again. By the end of the month, Addie is dodging twice as many patrols as she used to, all clustered around Caspian's chambers. She's evaded them so far, but as the nights tick by the dark corners she can hide in feel farther and farther apart.

Marcos actually told the truth.

Addie's thinking she might owe him grudging thanks when she has to duck into another alcove along the servants' passage at the fifth pair of boots she's dodged of the night. Sometimes the guards come in twos, sometimes just the one. A pair is easier; she tucks herself around a corner or behind a pillar and lets their chatter cover the sound of her breath. No such luck with this one. Addie shrinks into the scant hollow between a pillar and the wall and breathes long, slow, and quiet.

The boots clink closer and closer until her chest strains for air. The soldier's shadow merges with Addie's hiding spot before sliding along the wall, sharpening with every step as he nears a torch. If he looks back, he won't see her; his eyes won't adjust after the bright firelight.

Addie inhales as silently as she can, so haltingly her heartbeat thunders in protest. The footsteps continue down the hall, never hesitating, never missing a beat.

On a foolish whim, Addie glances over her shoulder before he disappears around the bend. Her mouth falls open on a silent gasp as his profile flashes into view.

It's Marcos.

He continues on none the wiser, but Addie is stuck to her shadowy hiding spot longer than she should be. Another patrol will come through in minutes; she doesn't have time to stand here like an idiot, gawking after Marcos. It's not as if he noticed her.

She's not sure what he would've done if he had.

Addie's feet finally obey and take her back out into the dark hallway. The last yards to the door stretch longer than they should. Was the hallway always this long?

Addie breaks into a jog and tugs off her cap before her palms graze the wood and she pushes the door open with a creak that splits the very air down to the bone. She whirls inside and shoves it closed.

Thank Tash she's alone and Caspian isn't here to see her state. Addie fiddles along the edge of the bookshelf. There must be a latch here, somewhere she's missed it. Surely Caspian doesn't have a door to his living space without a lock while his uncle plans his death, does he? He's more careful than that. He has to be.

She finds nothing. Perhaps he had one, and it's broken?

She'll ask Bruna tomorrow, and Caspian whenever he's back from… wherever he is. He's not around in the evenings as much as he used to be, and he never tells her exactly what he's doing. Meeting with lords, that's all he says. Never which lords, or where, or why, or what sort of person they are, or whether he's meeting them alone. There are only so many nobles in the castle at any given time; they must have their own lands to see too, other business outside the castle, however that landowning, lordly business plays out. Either Caspian is having repeat meetings or he's meeting with more than the nobles.

Gods, she could drive herself to insanity pacing in this study.

Addie crouches to the bottom shelf and digs out her current project - a lyrical poem on the origins of the white stag. Caspian always leaves that same note as a bookmark if he's off meeting someone and if he knows ahead of time. Twice in the past few weeks she's walked into an empty study and a blank strip of leather. Caspian insisted on giving her a true bookmark, silly as it is. Scraps of paper do the same job.

Tonight, paper pokes between yellowed pages. At least he planned tonight's tardiness.

Addie abandons the book on her usual seat without joining it. When Caspian studied the Ettinsmoor War, he had a scroll with a full map of Narnia and the surrounding lands on his desk. And thanks to his inability to put things back in their place until he's sure he won't need them within a month, that same scroll is balancing on the corner of his desk. Neatly rolled up, but out and ripe for snooping.

Addie plucks it from a pile of papers Caspian tried to stack straight. It takes a gentle touch to unroll the map amid Caspian's scattered notes and half-open books, but if he can manage, then so can she. The thick paper wobbles before Addie steadies both ends with one of Caspian's smaller books. He supposedly has paperweights somewhere under this mess, but in all these months she's only seen a pair of etched glass rounds twice. She leans in as close as she dares, damp hair ending ticklish drips down her spine.

The castle is inked dark, easy to find among the lighter trees and mountain ranges. To the northwest lies Lantern Waste, the river flowing south to Beruna, another river flowing east through the forest. Mountains to the west and north, and Ettinsmoor beyond northern marshes. So much of Narnia beyond the castle and the surrounding plains is forest. No wonder the soldiers never seem to be in a good mood - according to rumours, the forests are full of ghosts and vengeful monsters. If most of Narnia is forest, how do the lords or Miraz keep a handle on things?

There might be more safety out in Narnia than she thought. Ghosts sound like a better gamble than Miraz and his men.

Marcos said his family was close if they cut across the river. Which part of the Great River? How far? Has he ever travelled through the woods? He never said where, exactly, his village lies on the map.

Addie sighs. If only she could trust him. If only he weren't marching through the nearby passageways, keeping watch for her like the other soldiers. If only he hadn't proven, long ago, that he can't be trusted.

Whether Marcos knows the forest or not, anyone travelling will stick close to the river. So if she and Caspian can get out of the castle and into the woods, surely they can figure something out. People have lived off the land before. It's possible.

A soft click sends a shock down her spine, but Addie recognises Caspian's footsteps a moment later and softens her shoulders. Thankfully, she wasn't relying on her hands to keep the scroll open or it might've torn. Addie smooths it down just in case.

If she busies her hands, maybe Caspian won't notice how they shake.

"Good meeting?"

Caspian's arms encircle her from behind and she can breathe again. "Good enough. How are you?"

Addie leans into him, grasping forearms tightly corded with muscle as his chin rests on her shoulder. "Good enough."

"And Perla? Lola?" Caspian presses a gentle kiss to her neck after every name, though his hands stay chastely at her waist.

"Cranky, and moon-eyed as usual."

Addie chews the inside of her cheek and traces the criss-crossing veins on his hands. She should have a fun story ready for him, something to make him smile, but tonight nothing comes. In recent weeks, it's gotten harder to come up with interesting little tidbits; tales of spatulas and kitchens and friends in love seem pale next to Miraz and royal heirs and war and dying.

Addie's gaze drifts back to the map.

Caspian's arms loosen, moving into the usual routine as if they aren't struggling to trade basic pleasantries. But a moment later, his hand returns to her waist and his lips ghost the shell of her ear. It's not fair, the quiver his breath sends over her skin.

"Looking for something?"

Addie tries for a smile. "Thought I should learn the lay of the land. Always wondered how your aunt got those oranges shipped in." Addie traces the Great River's from the eastern coast up to the castle. "Quicker than by land, isn't it?"

"If the weather is kind," Caspian says. "Though the currents are often not." He nudges her finger south from the castle to where the Great River meets the River Rush. "The currents flow south, from the mountains to the coast. If the wind is favourable, the river boats can weave upstream. But if my uncle has his way, goods travel by caravan. He has little love for the water."

"Explains the delays." Addie spreads her fingers over the trees peppering the worn parchment. "Are the woods really haunted?"

Caspian stills before his hand warms her skin, fingers interweaving with hers. "Yes. I suppose you know the rumours that no one who strays too deep into the forest comes out alive?"

"Superstitious nonsense," Addie says, leaning back until the steady thump of his heart thrums at her shoulder blade. "More likely it's wolves and hungry bears, not ghosts."

Caspian's arms tighten at her waist. "Perhaps."

Addie frowns at a fading sketch of a wolf's cave near the Shuddering Wood. Caspian has an odd hitch to his tone she doesn't like, the kind that means he knows more than he's saying.

Secrets have echoes. Especially his.

"How far is too deep?"

As he drags a slow kiss to her temple, Caspian tugs her hand away from the map. Their arms intertwined around her torso should be soothing, a welcome touch after a long day apart. So why is Caspian pulling her away like there's something he doesn't want her to see?

"I know of none who wish to test the boundary." His whisper stirs the stubborn wisps behind her ear. "It's a good idea; Doctor Cornelius will know more."

Well, that's something.

The chill wrapping around her drifts off, chased away by Caspian's lingering kiss at her temple. A flicker of a smile tugs at Addie's mouth.

"Tell me what he says," she murmurs back.

When Caspian whispers his assent, Addie kisses him in earnest. Books and maps can wait, just for a little while.

Caspian

With astronomy lessons now a weekly occurrence, Caspian spends much less time with Addie than he'd like. Things are better now, as time has crawled on and they've begun touching each other again, but spending the night together helps. Even the nights Addie doesn't sleep bare with him, her warmth and weight in the bed helps Caspian sleep. If she's in his bed, at least then he knows she's safe for those precious few hours. And when he wakes from a nightmare of his father's corpse or hers, all he has to do is open his eyes to find her alive and within reach.

Thank the Lion his fitful sleeping habits don't wake her. Most nights, Addie sleeps soundly on when Caspian jolts awake and closes the scant distance between them to tuck her into his arms. If she moves, it's only a soft sigh as she nuzzles into his shoulder.

Finally, nearly three months after Anna's disappearance, Addie is sleeping through the night.

For astronomy lessons, he has to leave her. Doctor Cornelius doesn't come to wake him unless he's running late enough for worry, so there's only Caspian's own will and the nagging sense of duty to pull him from the haven of his shared bed. As his aunt's expected delivery creeps closer, will and duty seem to matter less and less in those first waking minutes. On such borrowed time, how can he not linger?

When Caspian wakes enough for sense to return, he remembers that duty is what will keep them both alive, so he forces himself out of bed for these few hours before dawn. He'll be back in time to steal the last dregs of darkness before the day steals Addie away.

Amid the hope of a pre-dawn nap with Addie, the looming dark stone corridors and shadowed hiding places between patrols feel lonelier than ever. Caspian tugs his cloak tighter around his shoulders and scurries through familiar side passages.

He finds Doctor Cornelius with a hand-held telescope atop the North Tower.

"Professor."

"What do you see in the skies tonight, my boy?" The Doctor adjusts his spectacles and passes the telescope without preamble.

Caspian weighs the brass tube carefully, turning it over in his hands. The metal is tarnished with age and streaked with light scratches. Even so, the telescope gleams under the silver light of the half-moon. Doctor Cornelius does his best to take care of his treasure trove of relics.

"When did you acquire this?"

The Doctor's eyes crinkle with his secretive smile. "Your ancestors once used spyglasses when first they came to Narnia. A few river captains still use them, as the Galmans do."

"I see," says Caspian. The brass is in good condition, but the well-worn edges look much older than a mere navigational tool for sailing the Great River. "But this seems older."

"Indeed." Doctor Cornelius pushes his spectacles higher on his ruddy nose. "In the Golden Age, Queen Lucy made many explorations through the Eastern Sea."

Caspian's fingers sweep the length of the spyglass, leaving streaked fingerprints on the polished metal. Relics from the Golden Age were all destroyed in the Telmarine conquest; at least, so the Telmarine histories said. But as Doctor Cornelius made well sure, Caspian is no stranger to the details his people have conveniently purged from public memory.

"Professor, is this from the Golden Age? Or merely an example of craftsmanship?"

The Doctor turns to gaze out at the stars - two in particular, drawing ever closer. "Yes, my prince. It is from that long-lost age."

Caspian slides the thick rings out until the telescope extends half the width of his shoulders. Even after centuries, it catches only slightly on the last ring. The lens is intact too, if muddied with age; Tarva and Alambil fill his sights when he peeks through the spyglass, two blurry, slightly yellowed orbs hung in the night sky.

"Not so lost," Caspian murmurs, "if pieces still survive."

Doctor Cornelius' satisfaction comes through in the rare lilt brightening his scholarly intonations. "Indeed. The smallest ember can be blown into a flame."

The iron bars steadily closing around him ease at the notion - at the hope that maybe some of the old ways can return. That Tarva and Alambil are drawing closer because there's something he can do to bring Old Narnia back.

Perhaps.

The brief flare of hope cools as quickly as it came. In recent years, Caspian can't summon the same prolonged wonder he could as a boy. When one has a noose tightening around one's neck, it has a way of squeezing out optimism. Even with a professor like Doctor Cornelius.

Caspian slides the spyglass closed with a click and turns away from the stars. "I still don't know how, Professor. It seems little more than memory."

"Memory is enough, for a time," says the Doctor. "It will not always be as this."

In a time far ahead, perhaps so. Perhaps this suffocating feeling that no matter what he does, he's staring down death and loss just as he has before is the temporary temptation of hopelessness that precedes the fairy tale victory. Perhaps after spending all his life with no one to trust but the Doctor, until Addie came along, the long line of losing things will end.

If only he could be certain. If only the spyglass in his hand could see into the future instead of the sky.

"The stars are closer," Caspian says, "but if the baby is a boy, we can't stay here." He tries not to fiddle with the centuries-old relic, but when the itch in his hands doesn't fade, Caspian tries to pass the spyglass to his professor.

"No, you can not." Doctor Cornelius crosses his hands atop his belly and does not take back the spyglass. "What lies south of this castle?"

Caspian smooths his hands on his breeches before peering through the yellowed lens. "Forests, foothills of the Western Mountains. A tributary that feeds the Great River."

"And beyond the river?" Doctor Cornelius taps the largest ring with a puffy finger. Caspian squints harder through the aged glass.

"A clearing, deep in the forest," says Caspian. "I believe the Old Narnians once called it the Dancing Lawn. All the old seasonal dances were held there. Some councils as well." He aims the glass lower, following the trees out to where they break in an uneven line. That's the tributary; Dancing Lawn is too distant to make out, and likely far overgrown with trees now.

"And to the west?"

Caspian finds an unbroken sea of trees. "Only forest," he says. "Addie was looking there too."

Doctor Cornelius says nothing about Addie, but his tone softens. "That is the Shuddering Woods," says Doctor Cornelius. "And it is a good place for hiding."

Caspian carefully closes the spyglass. His hands don't tense around the brass barrel this time, not with the tender ember of hope stirring deep in his chest.

As a rule, Telmarines avoid the west. Beyond the Western Forest lies Telmar, the barren land of their origins. A famine drove Caspian's ancestors east into Narnia; now only arid wind and dust populate the land. If he and Addie settle near the forest's edge, they might never be found.

"I believe I have maps to study, Professor. Is geography to be our focus in the coming weeks?"

"Indeed, my boy."

It's an earlier end than usual to their lessons, but Caspian doesn't need to beg for stories like a child anymore. He has work to do, starting at first light. And before the dawn, he will have more hours than he expected to keep Addie close and remind himself that amid this intrigue, she's still here. She's safe for now, and so is he.

Deep in the trees, they can begin a new life. Together.

And perhaps, when the Council of Lords give up hope and the search parties grow thin, he will make a new home in Archenland. Given enough time and politicking, King Nain may be of some help.

Caspian excuses himself with the usual pleasantries and returns the spyglass. No doubt Doctor Cornelius will bring it out again some night - for the stars, or for seeing a way out of the castle.

Caspian hurries through the castle halls, trading copious caution for the impatience of hope.

He accepted the reality of sneaking around years ago, but lately Miraz's patrols choke the halls, slowing his progress to an impatient, staccato crawl. Caspian didn't always avoid them; as a boy, when he stole away with Doctor Cornelius the North Tower, they walked the halls without avoiding anyone.

Now, Caspian hides among the shadows. The chain mail under his nightshirt will only delay the inevitable, and the dagger hidden in his boot won't be a true defence against a guard with a crossbow and too much loyalty to his uncle. Better to hide and not take the chance, especially as running is not Caspian's strongest skill.

Caspian only lingers in the hidden corners of the halls long enough for the guards to pass. If he waited until they faded from earshot, he'd be stuck in the same shadows until morning.

The ten-minute walk stretches into twenty before Caspian is back in his own room with the door clicked shut. He shucks off everything but his breeches and climbs back under the covers as hastily as he dares.

Addie is curled up in the empty dip in the sheets he left behind. She's in her dress tonight; he can never predict when she'll see fit to forgo all clothing in her sleep. Sometimes after they've explored each other, Addie falls asleep at once and Caspian is free to enjoy her skin on his until morning comes. Other times, when Addie takes the cloth from his hands and cleans herself, she tugs on her dress - or her undershift, if she saw fit to wear it that night - before settling back into his arms.

Caspian wishes she wouldn't, but whenever she sleeps clothed, he does the same. Though she's never asked him to, it's polite to cover himself if she's determined to do the same and he can't figure out why.

Every time Addie wakes with his shirt between them, her hands find their way under the hem before she rises for the day.

It would ease his mind if she would linger, sometimes. If she would kiss him in the morning like she does at night, instead of climbing out and greeting the day without a proper good morning kiss. Ever since Anna, Addie's goodbye kisses when they part for the day have been too brief, too distracted to truly remind him that she's his. That he's hers. That in the midst of everything, they still have each other.

Caspian turns onto his side and tucks Addie in close enough that her breath fans over his skin with every exhale. Even if he doesn't have her in the daylight, at least he has her now.

A/N: So, we've got Cas working out the escape plan, and Addie getting curious about the maps... any early guesses for what these last 3ish months will hold? We've got 4 more chapters until the end of Part 1. :D

Chapter 21 Preview:

Lola slumps against the wall. "So go now, before it gets worse. Before they'll suspect something. Just get out, anywhere, alright?"

"I can't," Addie whispers.