A/N: At long last, here's the part on Kellan, to go with a previous chapter, and the other part I was hinting at. Kellan's part is more for when he's been back at the Hunt for longer, so just pretend you're reading it later on. haha

~~ The Lost Prince ~~

Everything Kellan though he knew was being questioned. It was like a domino effect – once one thing was revealed, it led to another, and he could not stop them all from falling.

Who was he really?

Where did he belong?

Never before had he felt so uncertain, and so conflicted. It was dizzying having a foot in two worlds, with a divide between them. If he took a step towards one side, then he may lose his balance and fall into the abyss.

He found it was almost as if a part of him had remained at the Seelie when he'd left. He could almost see himself there, growing up. He could imagine what it would have been like. The thought was heartbreaking, and he did his best to push it away, but it was always there, at the back of his mind. It made him feel guilty too, as if he were betraying the Hunt for thinking such a thing. He could get in trouble for such things, he knew, but why did he now have to monitor his own thoughts as if he were a criminal? It was unnatural and uncomfortable being ashamed of your own feelings, and he hated it.

Why was he so pathetic, caring about a faerie and a Court that he had only just met?

With his dirtied blood he deserved nothing, and yet he suddenly wanted too much.

He did not want to forget anything – not the scenery nor the conversations, nor the creatures.

And if he closed his eyes for long enough…

…He could almost trick himself into believing he was still there.

~~ The Seelie ~~

Stuck in vivid, nonsensical dreams, Caspian finally awoke, although his vision was blurry, as if he was trying to look at something hidden behind a thick fog. Blinking as he attempted to clear his vision – and failed - he tried to fight off a wave of disorientation. He was at the Seelie. He was at the Seelie. He was at the Seelie and… and Aspen was safe and-…

He suddenly realised a figure stood at the foot of the bed. While he still could not make them out fully, he relaxed slightly at the familiar black cloak and height, and the hint of black hair. Aspen. He almost felt silly for wondering. Of course it would be Aspen, for who else would it be, watching over him?

"Aspen?" His mouth felt dry when he opened it, about to ask him to come closer, but he didn't have to when Aspen approached him. Aspen ran a finger lightly across his cheek, before brushing some blonde hair away from his forehead delicately. Wanting to say something – although he wasn't sure what exactly - Caspian was cut off and he let out a small gasp instead in surprise, when Aspen leaned down over him suddenly to kiss him. He hadn't been expecting it, and he made a sound of protest, thinking it wasn't the right place, and he still felt slightly queasy in his stomach. "Aspen-…" he tried to mutter, lifting his hands to his chest to try and push him away when it felt wrong. But Aspen's grip was steely as he pushed Caspian's arms back to his side, holding them there firmly. He was still weak from the poison, and he found he couldn't fight back very well, even as the kiss grew more forceful, the other faerie's weight suddenly crushing him. It didn't feel like Aspen at all, and he panicked, struggling to try and turn his head or push him away, or something. However, his efforts were futile, and he couldn't seem to draw in a breath properly, as his fear grew. After a moment, he managed to bite the faerie's lip, hard enough to taste blood, and his breathing grew ragged when the faerie finally pulled back, a flash of different coloured blue eyes alighting in his vision. They looked amused, more than anything else, and it was infuriating. Pushing past the fog in his mind, he could finally pick where he recognised him. It was the faerie they'd seen when they first came to the Court – the one who'd known Aspen's name - although Caspian had never caught his name.

"Get away from me," he hissed in warning, refusing to look frightened. He felt dirty, and now that he was finally able to move his head to the side, he spat out the bloody taste, quickly wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

The faerie's grip tightened, as he leaned forward, his lips by his ear. "This can be our little secret," he whispered, before the pressure disappeared. Caspian sat up quickly, but by the time he did, any trace of the faerie was gone. His head spun, and he leaned to the side, feeling like he might vomit. A little shaky, he wiped his mouth against his sleeve again, unable to rid himself of the feeling of wrongness, as if he'd done something awful.

Did that really just happen? Or-… or had he been hallucinating and delusional and…?

Before he could think about it any longer, the blackness and the nightmares came for him again, plunging him back into darkness.