9. Peter contra mundum

You've been back almost a fortnight... Surely Aslan will realize the mistake soon and send you on your merry way, just as your sister has predicted? Be honest with yourself and for once don't pretend the thought has not entered your mind before.

Peter sighed as he fought back another wave of dusky thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. When he had awoken in Cair Paravel on their third day back in the castle, he had first sensed a shift inside his mind that he hadn't quite been able to shake since. In the beginning he had been thrilled to be home, a feeling that had not quite subsided yet, but now... The young man wasn't sure.

He'd been having these momentarily lapses of faith when he would ponder whether or not Susan was correct in her hesitant disbelief, not that he'd ever willingly admit as much to his younger sister. More often than not he'd ask himself questions with no answers; Why had he truly returned when specifically told he would never see Narnia again? Was his unexpected presence thus unwanted? What was his place in this world now that he was meant to have none?

Needless to say, this secret gloom had put a damper on his mood and he sometimes sought solitude to reach a solution, though none seemed to be found. His siblings - well, perhaps with the exception of Susan then - had acclimatized smoothly and wore happy faces almost all day long. It was easy for them, however, to keep a cheerful smile, for they had never been forced to say a final, heart wrenching goodbye to Narnia only to be pulled back under the most suspicious of circumstances.

Of course, Peter reminded himself, it wasn't Edmund or Lucy's fault anymore than Susan or Caspian was to blame, and he mustn't ever forget that fact.

As the former High king wandered down one of the beautiful, empty corridors of the castle, he couldn't help but ponder why all these thoughts had so suddenly struck him like a bolt of lightning on a cloudless day. He'd been so content there for a while and had simply enjoyed each moment that had been offered to him, regardless of later outcomes.

He was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice calling out to him, "Peter!"

The Pevensie faltered and looked back only to see the tall, regal Caspian stand a few feet behind him, dressed in a velvety tunic embroidered with silver and gold. There was something stiff to the dark-haired king's stance, but he still smiled warmly at his company.

Peter frowned in confusion as he greeted his friend, "I didn't hear you approach."

The Telmarine spoke as if he had not heard the comment, "I fear only your wisdom as former High king can help me settle a small dispute."

When no further details followed, the Pevensie man nodded. "... You know I will always aid you in whatever way I can. What is it I can do for you?"

"Come to the council hall after lunch. I will need your guidance then," the dark-haired king spoke in a deadpan voice the other boy had never heard the king use before. Caspian's rhythmic dialect always seemed to stem from his passionate feelings, but this time the king seemed utterly void of emotions.

Peter frowned and took a hesitant step towards his friend, "Is everything alright, friend?"

"Come to the council hall after lunch," the Telmarine man simply repeated. Clearly whatever it was had to await a more opportune moment. Not one to disrespect his friends or allies, the Pevensie inclined his head in acceptance.

"I will be there later. I promise".

A man of his word, Peter Pevensie headed straight towards the council hall after sharing a quiet lunch with his siblings. The grand doors to the council hall reminded the king of days past when this used to be his domain and no one else's. The power had been his and he'd wielded it with justice and pride. Those days did not seem so far away now that he was back, yet had never been further from him with Caspian on the throne.

The young man reached out his hand and pushed the heavy, ornate door open. At the center of the room that met him stood a long, dark table with fourteen seats about it and three regal chairs at the very end of the room by the head of the council table. The walls of the chamber were pale stone, here and there decorated with details of Old Narnia, and upon the wall furthest from the door hung a Narnian standard above the table.

As the young man stepped inside he was met with twelve pairs of eyes that gazed upon the former High king most expectantly. At the head of the long, mahogany council table, king Caspian, too, turned to watch the intruder and thus mirrored his most trusted lords. The Pevensie man searched the eyes of his friend but the dark pools were filled with care and none of the emptiness he had seen during their previous meeting.

At length, the Telmarine king leaned back in his regal seat and the wood creaked somewhat beneath him. With a kind grin, he met his friend's curious gaze. "Welcome, King Peter. Did you wish to discuss a certain matter or have you come to join our council today?"

"Neither... I have come to aid you," Peter said slowly and watched as the king's eyes turned from greeting to mild confusion in a heartbeat. What was this game the Telmarine man was playing? "You told me earlier today you needed my guidance… Do you not remember our encounter?"

Caspian's confusion settled into a deep frown upon his features like a shadow. The rest of the council gazed between the two kings without uttering even a syllable. The Telmarine king shook his head once as he scratched the corner of his bearded chin. "I know not of what you speak. I have not asked any such favor, Peter."

"I assure you, you have," the Pevensie spoke firmly and met the king's frown with one of his own. He was certain of it, the Telmarine king even wore the same shirt as previously. It was unmistakable. He took another step into the grand hall as his eyes traveled upon and down the table until his gaze once more met his friend's at the head of the table. "Or are you saying I'm making this up?"

"Yes!" Peter was surprised to hear Caspian's sharp voice echo inside his head, but could such a sharp word have come from the king on the other end of the majestic room?

The Telmarine slowly shook his head again and genuine confusion seemed to wrap around him like a cloak. "There must be a misunderstanding between us. May we discuss this after the council, for there are still many matters left to handle and the day is passing swiftly. Will you join us for the remainder?"

"Though you have no place here, Intruder!" Caspian's sharp voice hissed in the Pevensie's ear again.

The Pevensie man shrugged off the surprising words flung at him. "No… no," he said somewhat distant. "That's quite alright. I'll come back afterwards."

The last thing he saw before turning away was the confounded looks of twelve lords and their king. Their gazes questioned the mind of the Pevensie king and haunted the man as he fled from the chamber and swiftly shut the door behind him.

Peter leaned against the heavy, oak door and breathed heavily. He tried to clear his thoughts but was unsure how this could be done. What had just transpired in that council hall? Had he simply imagined the conversation with Caspian? What mind ghosts plagued him so?

"Peter?"

He was pulled from the deep well his thoughts had trapped him in and he opened his eyes to wildly gaze at the intruding company. Across from him in the corridor stood Edmund and Lucy with matching gazes of weariness written on their features. They walked up to their elder brother and the eldest quickly pulled himself together as he pushed away from the wall and met them half-way.

"Is something the matter?" the young girl asked.

"Yes... I..." Peter faltered and let his voice blend with the shadows of the corridor. There were no words to describe it, after all. He opened his mouth to make an attempt anyway, but his attention was drawn to the whispers of someone behind him. He glanced over his shoulders and by a corner further down the corridor he saw two guards and Lord Roshan whispering together, every now and then raising their gazes to meet his. He could hardly believe what he saw written so evidently in their eyes as they met his gaze now.

They didn't want him there. Had he been right then? Was he not wanted since he was not supposed to be there? Was he extra baggage deemed unnecessary and a burden to those around him? Maybe the reason why no one had managed to solve the reason of their return was because no one wanted to know. Judging by their gazes they plainly wanted him gone from their lands.

"Why must they stare at me so?" he hissed and turned back to his siblings. He could not help but vent as anger took control of his weary head, "It is as if they do not want me here. They know Aslan said I wouldn't return and now I'm unwanted because I returned with you."

Edmund's pale eyes widened somewhat as he beheld the elder boy before him. He glanced over his brother's shoulder before he asked, "Who stares at you, Peter? There's no one there."

"The guards, of course," Peter spat with a fury. "And the lords of the king's council, I'm convinced of it now. Don't you see them also, not even when I have pointed them out to you?"

"He's gone mad!" Edmund's voice seemed to slither around the oldest boy like a serpent prepared to strike.

"Shut up, Edmund!" Peter snarled back at his brother in irritation that his own brother would make such a crude comment to begin with. He was used to his brother's more playful use of words but that was simply out of the line.

"Why are you telling me to shut up? I haven't said anything!" the dark-haired boy claimed with a furrowed brow. If the daze had been obvious before, it was nothing compared to the utter shock that was now transparent in his younger brother's azure eyes.

"I…" the oldest boy began but knew not how to continue. There was something playing tricks with his mind, obviously. The whole ordeal with their return to Narnia had been a bigger strain on his mind than he'd first thought. Maybe all he needed was some time to clear his juggled thoughts. He sighed and let the moment slide, "I'm going to my room. I think I need to rest. See you… later, guys."

Peter didn't notice the worried look his siblings exchanged behind his back. Nor did he see the two pairs of eyes that glowed fiery red in the deep shadows of the hallway.

"Shall we deal with the others, too, then?"

"Not quite yet. We need to win Peter Pevensie's mind first. Afterwards... Well, why not have some fun while we can?"

"You thought I was in need of your assistance? For what reason?" the voice of Caspian X was undoubtedly disdainful and mocking. "You have such high thoughts of yourself? You truly believe your past as High King has earned you a right to speak out while I'm king? Don't you trust my ruling hand, Peter? Can I not compare to the king you once were?"

Peter awoke with a start from his nap and tried to calm his heavy breathing as it raced like a wild horse on a plain. He remembered his bad dream clearly, as if every detail of it was as real as life and no mere fantasy. He had dreamed all of his family along with the king and, it seemed, every inhabitant of Narnia had expressed all the reasons why he did not belong in this fairy tale land.

This inner demon of his was growing more and more unbearable by the hour, and for unknown reasons even to himself he did not want to share this burned with those he loved most dear. Then again, he did not seem to be able to shake the darkness on his own. Though he did not care to discuss his problems with his siblings, perhaps he could turn to his most trusted friend.

He had promised to return after the council meeting to speak with Caspian anyway, perhaps he could breech the subject and get some clarity where he most needed it. His mental collapse was almost too great to carry alone, though it was also the same reason why he should not unnecessarily burden anyone with his pain.

With a deep sigh Peter rose from his bed and prepared to seek refuge with his old friend.

As he reached the door to the council hall, he found the door slightly ajar and took it to mean the meeting had ended. He raised an arm to push open the door, but haltered himself as he heard the unmistakable voice of the Telmarine king through the heavy wood.

"I am worried for your brother. Peter has been acting strange as of late. He interrupted the council today to speak of... I do not know of what, but it was not true. He claimed I had asked him for guidance earlier today, though last time I saw him was dinner yesterday."

"I believe he wants his old powers back, he wants to be High king again," The Pevensie man froze as he recognized his sister's voice. He felt his chest constrict in pain as he continued to eavesdrop. "He does not trust you, Caspian."

Peter's mouth fell open in shock as he heavily leaned against the wall beside the door. Had Susan truly spoken such words about him? Did she – Did they believe that about him? If that was the case, maybe they didn't know him, at all.

But you do miss it, do you not? A voice cooed in his left ear. The young man shook his head as if this action would discard the insinuation. It wrapped itself around his heart, however, as a deceitful snake that bit it with its venomous fangs. The poison seemed to travel through his blood and reach the darkest recesses of his soul, where thoughts dwelt he knew not existed.

Was his dream to help aid Caspian X grow into a greater king or was it all for selfish reasons? If so, was Peter's heart the deceitful one?

You want things to be like they once were, with you as High king.

That thought was absurd on its own! He wasn't High king anymore. He hadn't been for a very long time. Regardless, this wasn't his arena anymore. He and Susan would likely be sent back to England sometime. The future of Narnia was not his to control.

Still, despite all of it, there exists a part of you which aches to have all that power and respect returned to your hands, if only for a moment!

He remembered last time they'd been thrust back and the satisfaction of taking control as chief ruler and helping the untrained Caspian through the ordeal of reclaiming the lost throne. In the end, he had given up his power in favor of the Telmarine prince, who had proven himself worthy to wear the crown as king.

King Caspian X is strong… But you are stronger, are you not? You, Peter Pevensie, are the leader the people of Narnia needs.

"If your brother would come to me, I would seek to help him," the Telmarine king's voice spoke and Peter was reminded of the conversation he'd been eavesdropping. He once more turned his attention on Susan and Caspian's conversation in the room beside him. "But, honestly, Peter has fallen in my eyes. He no longer deserves the title of High king. Perhaps it would be better if we asked Aslan to send him back to your world…"

"Peter has served his part, hasn't he?" the cold, heartless voice of his sister concurred. "I don't see why he was sent back with the rest of us. His return could only be seen as a challenge of the right to the throne."

"I fear you're right, Queen Susan," Caspian's voice slowly searched for the right words and before long he concluded, "If it came to it, I would defend my rule against King Peter. Narnia is mine to rule now, not your brother's. I would defend myself, should he ever challenge me."

"Then I would hope you win. My older brother needs to learn his place," his sister's words stung more than the Telmarine's deceitful and spiteful doubts. So it had come to this. They had sided against him and Peter now stood alone on one side of the abyss with all his loved ones on the other.

He could feel his anger swim to the surface with a feeling of betrayal simmering beneath it all as he pushed the heavy door open. On the other end of the room, close to the head seat stood the conspiring couple and they both turned to the entrance as Peter stepped inside. Their innocent eyes spoke nothing of betrayal and evidently they were done plotting against him. There was not one ounce of regret of having been caught with the hand in the cookie jar.

Peter took one step inside the chamber as he tried to contain his contempt. He wore the pain they had inflicted upon him on his sleeve. He wanted them to see that their mistrust had made his ears bleed.

"I have heard enough of your betrayal," the young man spoke with a quiver to his voice. "How can you turn on me so viciously when I've done nothing to deserve it? Don't pretend to be ignorant, for we all know the truth. We're all adult enough to speak our minds and not whisper behind each other's backs."

"I do not understand, old friend, what have you heard?" The Telmarine asked with a frown but was met with nothing but a furious glare. The young, bearded king took a step forward but his action made the Pevensie man flinch and back towards the door.

"... Peter?" his sister's voice echoed after him as he fled the room with no further explanation. Susan moved as if to follow her brother, but Caspian's hand upon her shoulder stopped her.

"I don't think so... do you?" the king questioned solemnly and squeezed her slim shoulder in support. With friendly pressure he guided them both over to the throne-like seats at the head of the table and sat down.

The brunette dropped into the seat beside him and sighed. The flaming look of accusation she had seen in her brother's eyes still burned fierce in her memory and she had no idea what she'd done to earn such fury. "I don't understand it... Edmund told me that he was acting weird but even combined with what you just explained... I cannot make sense of what's wrong with him."

The dark-haired man leaned closer until their faces were but a feet apart and waited until the young woman raised her gaze to meet his. The Pevensie girl found her eyes captivated by his penetrating compassion and it made her somewhat self-conscious, though she found she could not look away.

With a warm smile upon his bearded face, the king spoke his opinion, "It's possible your brother is having a hard time adjusting to his return here. Much as you are..."

The young woman ducked her head in an attempt to avoid the implication. She knew he meant only to offer her comfort, but as long as he did not know he was the root of her pain, there was nothing he could do. She twirled a strand of her long, curly hair between her fingers as she tried to steer them back on course, "Not Peter, not like this. The Peter I just saw... he was troubled by something, but something darker has infested his mind than what you suggest. I don't know what and it pains me, because I usually always know what goes on in my siblings' minds."

"Perhaps he sensed your doubt. You have done nothing but doubt since your return, have you not?"

Susan snapped her head up to meet the king's gaze once more. She almost flinched back from him but managed to revoke that reflex as she stuttered, "Wh-What did you say?"

Caspian's own dark pools widened and she read his surprise as if it were written in a book. Slowly, the man spoke, "I didn't say anything. What did you hear?"

The Pevensie woman shrugged as she looked straight ahead. It must have been just her imagination then. She could have sword he had...

Susan felt something warm squeeze her hand upon the armrest and looked down to see the king's larger, tanned hand covering her pale one.

"Is something the matter with you?" his soft voice asked and the woman raised her eyes to meet his once more.

He can never be yours; a shrill whisper reminded her somewhere in the far recesses of her mind. He deserves someone who can stay with him. He deserves better.

The young brunette cleared her throat and pulled her hand away from under his. There was a quick flash in his eyes of something unreadable, before Caspian nodded and leaned back in his seat. Susan could basically see the truth rip them apart and felt the strain wear on her heart. But he's not yours to love, is he? He must choose a bride. And it will not be you, Susan Pevensie. Caspian will marry someone else.

"I... I'm just worried about Peter," said the young woman evasively as she smoothed out a wrinkle in her forest colored dress. "Please, my lord, will you help me figure out what's wrong?"

"I'd do anything for you, my queen."

To be continued.