A/N: So here's the fight chapter! I'm not great with writing fighting, but hopefully I managed to do it enough justice. Enjoy!

It was nearly time for the fight, and Caspian could feel his anticipation building. He'd always lived for the feel of the adrenaline, and the way it felt to have no restraints. The way it felt to beat someone. Fighting was one thing he was confident in, and he really wanted to win. The Wild Hunt was his new home, and he had to win the battle to win their respect. The other reason of course was how much he hated his opponent, Sol. It would be fun to wipe the obnoxious smirk off his face.

Running a hand along his staff and feeling a calming sense of familiarity, Caspian started towards the clearing they'd decided on. There was already a crowd of faeries there ready to watch, but Caspian ignored the majority of them, instead searching the faces for just one in particular. He'd considered leaving a note for Aspen by the lake, but in the end, he decided Aspen would have already found out from the other faeries about when the fight was.

He was distracted from his search when Sol emerged from behind the trees, and he studied the weapons he'd chosen to use against his staff. It seemed Sol had chosen two swords, as well as whatever else he had hidden under his cloak. They looked to be of a Seelie make, with a decorated hilt and pommel, which in Caspian's mind was a ridiculous idea. It didn't matter how pretty your sword was, as long as it was sharp, and you had the skills and training. Faeries from the Seelie Court really did waste time and effort on such frivolous things. As he studied the blades, he narrowed his eyes as he noticed the duller colour. It must have a higher percentage of iron in it, he decided, purposely for use against faeries.

As they approached each other, another supervisor who he didn't know explained the rules. They could fight until one of them resigned, or couldn't fight anymore. He laughed under his breath as he thought of how different the rules were to the ones at the Unseelie Court. In fact, the Unseelie Court had no rules for these kinds of things.

Sol looked over at him. "I wouldn't look so confident, if I was you," he drawled, with a slow, arrogant smile. "May the best faerie win."

"Shut up," was all Caspian muttered, the words he'd heard Sol had said about him rolling around in his mind and causing his anger to build. However, he'd prefer to save his energy for the fight, rather than put it into unnecessary and pointless arguing.

Unclasping his cloak, he folded it and placed it down carefully on the grass, unlike in the past when he'd usually throw his old cloak to the ground. This one however, was new and a gift, and he wanted to keep it in good condition. Looking back, he saw Sol had done the same, and had similarly taken his off, so that it wouldn't get in the way. Now his bright red wings stood out jarringly against the calm green of the grass, and Caspian looked away from them with a scowl.

Before long, they were in their positions and the battle had begun. He blocked out the cheers and calls from the onlookers, instead focusing purely on his opponent. He focused on Sol's stance, the way he moved, and whether he gave away any signs of a future strike.

Going on the offensive, he moved forward to test a thrust forward with his staff, which Sol promptly blocked with his swords, before darting to the side. It was an odd pairing indeed – former Seelie against former Unseelie. Sol's movements were elegant, like he was in a dance, while Caspian's style was rough and dirty, like the place he'd come from.

They went back and forth, testing either other for a while; a thrust here, a lower cut there. They were both quick on their feet though, and good at blocking, so it wasn't easy to land anything. He wouldn't have expected anything less, with a trained opponent. At least it made it interesting.

"Heard you got your wings cut out by a group of faeries," Sol grinned, watching his reaction. "And that you just laid there in your blood afterwards. Pretty pathetic, right? Couldn't even fight to protect your own wings."

Caspian growled, charging forward quickly to try and cut at his stomach. But Sol merely laughed, ducking away and cutting at Caspian's hand which was holding his staff, with one of his swords. It had only nicked his hand, but it was enough to draw blood, and Caspian hissed at the burn of the iron when it made contact.

"And then you got kicked out of the Unseelie Court? I bet that doesn't happen often. Your family must have thought you were a disgrace. I bet everyone did," Sol laughed, a mean glint in his eyes.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Caspian growled. His anger thrummed through his veins, mixed with the adrenaline, and his expression was wild as he lunged forward again, just wanting to cut him and make him bleed. He managed a deep cut to Sol's arm, with the blade on the end of his staff. However, he left himself open in his anger, and Sol darted to the side to avoid a second strike and dropped one of his swords to the ground to grab Caspian's staff in one hand, lashing out with his remaining sword in his other. Caspian had to move back to avoid it, and his hand was still slick from the blood, enabling Sol to pull his staff away from him. Sol couldn't hold the staff for long though, before he tossed it away, cursing when the anti-theft enchantment on it caused it to burn his hand. Caspian reached for a dagger, but Sol moved forward quickly, faking a strike, while he kicked out at the side of his knee.

Using his advantage, Sol moved to hit his back with the pommel of his sword, as Caspian fell to his knees. Snickering, Sol hit his back again with the pommel, before kicking out with his foot, hard against his back. With a strangled gasp at the sharp pain of his back, Caspian braced himself with his hands against the ground, gritting his teeth. His nails dug into the dirt as he tried to breathe, fighting to stay alert. In the back of his head, he supposed the Seelie Court could be brutal too, when they wanted to; either that or it was his Hunt side. "You forget," Sol whispered, bending down closer to his ear before he kicked out again, "That I know your greatest weakness."

Dropping fully to the ground, Caspian moved to roll to the side, however Sol reached out to grab his hair before he could get far enough away, tilting his head back painfully. "Surrender now, and perhaps I'll go easier on you," Sol hissed, although Caspian ignored him. His hand reached down again as quickly as he could, grabbing his dagger from where it was concealed, and slashing it across Sol's leg. Grunting, Sol let go of Caspian's hair, and he rolled away successfully this time, wincing as his back throbbed.

Managing to stand up, Caspian wiped his bloody hand against his shirt, before moving to pick up his staff again. He'd dealt with pain before and he could do it again, for just a bit longer. Taking a step back, he prepared his stance, and tried to refocus, not wanting to let Sol get to him. He had to win.

This time he waited for Sol to come to him. Sol, taking the advantage, charged in. Caspian, instead of holding his ground, took one step back, leading Sol to move forward again to press his advantage. But Caspian had anticipated the strike, and he stepped back in towards Sol, slashing the blade of the staff across Sol's shin.

Sol lowered a hand to his bleeding shin on instinct, hissing, and Caspian rotated his staff, and lifted the blunt end up to catch Sol under the chin. Sol's head flew back, and he landed on his back on the ground. Quickly Caspian charged forward, stomping on Sol's sword hand, and pinning it to the ground, to stop him from using it.

Before Sol could move, Caspian pressed the blade of his staff to the side of his neck, just enough to draw a little blood. He could have forced him to surrender there, but he paused. His eyes travelled to Sol's wings where they rested against the ground, and his thoughts turned dark and disturbing, his silver eye turning a murky grey.

Moving the blade across Sol's skin to his wings, he rested the blade against them. They looked like blood against the ground, yet so pure and perfect. Sol's eyes were wide, and he didn't dare move, in case Caspian pierced them or severed a tendon. He was tempted to drive his blade straight through them, wanting to hear him scream, for him to feel his pain. He drew a cut along the membrane, staring and wanting to go deeper. He wanted Sol to understand what it felt like, and he nearly pressed down harder, before someone called his name, drawing him from his thoughts and causing him to pause. Kellan rested a hand against his back, and he flinched, moving the blade back to Sol's neck.

"That's enough. You've won," Kellan said carefully, as if he were talking to a startled animal.

Caspian's hand trembled for a moment, trying to fight his twisted thoughts, before he finally drew the staff back, away from Sol, and moved his foot back to the grass, breathing hard.

Sol rolled away immediately, before jumping up, glancing back at his wing with a worried frown, and raising a hand to the blood on his neck. Looking over at Caspian, he swore, calling him crazy and spitting on the ground, before walking over to pick up his other sword.

Two of the medic faeries ran over with supplies, one going to attend to Sol and starting on bandaging the cut on his arm, while the other came over towards Caspian. Scowling at him, Caspian shook his head, before collecting his cloak, and wiping the blood off the blade of his staff onto the grass. Then, he ignored a couple of faeries trying to talk to him, pushing past them, so he could leave.

While medic faeries may be able to help physical injuries heal quicker, they certainly couldn't help with messed up minds.