his swift but graceless descent towards the floor lacks a narrator , plunging much too fast to recount how exactly the high king peter has managed to sweep caspian off balance ⸺ instead , he thoughtlessly scrambles on the ground in a heap of limbs with a pool of dark hair weaving into green blades of grass . belatedly , the young prince harbors an unnameable distaste for the smile that sweetly adorns their face seemingly hung in the sky like the ubiquitous sun , blazing star in the sky which scorns tanned skin red : delight , he finally names the expression buried in the swelled cheeks ‘neath narrowed eyes . he revels in taking you down . with an aggregating tension besetting his worked jaw , caspian wants for nothing other than a submarine dive into those twin lakes of blue dredging the bait that tugs the corner of his lips , to rip apart the veil that obscures brush strokes composing him , find the man - made strokes in this covert masterpiece .
traitorously , a thought squeaks from ‘tween creaking ribs like double doors eased open , since when have you last seen him smile ? not soon enough . the cracks of a boy in peter’s three - faced veneer is a chalice of wine sprouting from the wastelands ⸺ he nearly indulges in the unknown taste ( its promise of refreshment , intoxication , and impending requital ) before his opposing mind enacts its comeuppance , a foot reaching out to redeem an even smaller reward in the sight of peter clambering towards the ground by the hook of his riding boot .
the young prince doesn’t know what had irked him more : finding a glimpse of what lies beyond his facade , or how much it mirrors his own image . ( these quarreling soldiers will never find their lingua franca ⸺ they suppose it will do enough to study thoroughly these tomes of a different language . ) furtively , he wonders what peter sees in his own unguarded expressions , the mountain of a past looming cotton - gilded shoulders . he hopes for that over nothing .
the balls of caspian’s unschooled palms connect rather brashly with the other’s side in an attempt to roll him on his back , closing their unbearable distance , threading orbits like planets colliding ‘neath the shuddering weight of the universe when he pounces to secure the high king - the hero - the boy in their place on the ground . with knees locked on either side of peter’s lap ( ‘pon which all they must have ever needed falls with such ease ) , his hands conclude their clumsy expedition wildly clutching the collars of their jerkin ⸺ should he end this petty squabbling , claim his victory o’er the heat pinned beneath aching thighs yet never look once into the flame consuming his body whole ?
the rise & fall of his hunched back coordinates with the labored pants forming puffs of hot air atop high king’s shadowed face , making haste to reclaim stolen air ⸺ caspian steels . ( somehow , it feels much too late to decide . )
❛ do you expect me to run forever catching up to you ? ❜ he tastes the nick of a bloody wound at the tip of his tongue as if he’d been spitting daggers before he could stop himself , disarmed so easily that he grapples for some other ammunition only inches from those same twin lakes of blue now frozen over ⸺ yet caspian still feels at risk of drowning . knuckles painted white as the prince tightens his grip , ❛ because i will stop at nothing . even if it seems like i waste my time tiring at your feet ⸺ i will give you all that i have to show for if it proves narnia anything . ❜
is she all that you’re aching to impress ?
sharpened glare drips down like stalactites , piercing hard into the ice . if you want what you have already got : look away . he makes no further effort to question how his own gaze never leaves peter’s even as a droplet of sweat is collected into damp brow . like spitting teeth into high king’s hand , ❛ the telmarine army has strength in numbers . ❜ he finally says , not entirely sure what for . ( what if it’s never enough ? you are a boy , prince , what three you see in him , he sees only one in you . but what other choice do they have ? what other chance will you risk ? )
his body moves before his mind , palms unlatching at a silent command behind his back in a vain attempt to delay his fall ⸻ but peter’s meagre reward for his efforts is an unceremonious skimming of his knees ‘neath his trousers , dirt - embedded scrapes dusting the heels of his hands like a sudden smattering of stars in the skies above at the setting of the weary sun as he hurtles to the ground . [ there will be no healing of this particular wound , you realise too late ; no hope of staunching the blood ⸻ not when his eyes , as the stone knife , cut thin slivers into your skin and prise your ribs open to get at your heart . maybe he ought to see that your face is little more than a mask . maybe it’s better this way . ]
in a second , fluid rush , the prince rolls them onto their back and straddles their hips , lifting them away from the pillowy earth in his movements to seize their collar , and peter’s cheeks tinge red below their pale skin . [ if he dares ask , you will go to your grave swearing that it is the fault of the sun above & not him , restless moon . ] do you expect me to run forever catching up to you ? , caspian asks . peter only just catches himself before he can selfishly , unthinkingly say yes . would it be so terrible , to stay by my side ?
❛ there is a greater strength , still , ❜ he murmurs instead , fingers curling over caspian’s wrist in soothing disruption . ❛ it lies in hope . if you put your faith in them , your strength ⸻ if you make them believe that we have a chance ⸻ the rest will come easily . ❜ like heavy rain incarnate , the bead of sweat at caspian’s brow bends ‘neath the weight of his fury and collides with the swell of peter’s cheekbone , but his gaze remains patiently unwavering . ❛ the telmarines have the numbers . i will not deny it . but i have never once known fair narnia to balk at even the most dire of circumstances . ❜ [ are you with me ? , you had once pleaded . until the very end , came the cry of your people . he , you realise , will be the one to save them again . there is nothing for you to do now but watch him rise , the way you know he will ; the way she tells you he will . ]
❛ i am not here to take your place ; the responsibility lies with you , ❜ peter hedges , tightening his hold on caspian’s wrist ‘till the prince is left with no hope of escaping his clutches without another fight . ❛ but allow uncertainty to enter your heart now ⸻ allow yourself to suffer meaningless distractions ⸻ and you’ll have lost the war already . they will believe this is worth fighting for , prince caspian . but only if you do the same . ❜ and i ⸻ i ask for nothing . give it all to them . all at once , his hand falters , releasing the prince from his desperate grasp . ❛ will you do this , for me ? ❜