Chapter Text
Their weapons clash.
It's loud, and it takes everyone by surprise. It was bound to happen, but violence such as this will forever shock those who see it. Especially the youngest of the Pevensie siblings, who yells "Stop it!" in an effort to calm the two teenaged boys from escalating into bloodshed.
Silence overtakes the grassy forest, and then, the Narnians slowly creep out of their hiding places.
"Prince... Caspian?" Peter huffs. His breathing has become heavy, and his eyes have widened.
"Yes," Caspian frowns, "and who are you?" he asks, his expression stern.
Before Peter is given the chance to reply, Susan interrupts. "Peter!" She expresses in a shrill manner.
Caspian's face riddles in confusion at the sound of her voice, and after a moment of deliberation, he opens his mouth. "High King Peter?"
Peter's throat lets out a scoff (Susan can't help but think to herself that her brother's fatal flaw is very obviously his arrogance). "I believe you called."
"Well, yes," Caspian stutters, "But... I thought you'd be older."
"Well," Peter mocks, "If you'd like, we can come back in a few years." He hisses, before glancing down at his sword that's being held in Caspian's well calloused hand.
"No!" Caspian gasps, "No, that's alright. I... you're just... you're not what I expected." He frowns.
It's then when Caspian takes in the sight in front of him.
Peter and Caspian could not be more different. Peter sports a halo of golden hair that frames a pale face, while Caspian holds a head of bronze waves that cascade against sun kissed skin. While Peter is lithe and lean, Caspian is broad shouldered and somewhat brawny. He was naturally bred to fight, and it shows.
And then: "Neither are you!" from Edmund, who has an offended expression resting on his face as he glances over at the massive minotaur standing behind Caspian.
Caspian finds himself thanking the gods above as Trufflehunter makes an attempt to break the tension that has fallen over the two boys, "A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes."
Reepicheep turns towards Peter with a confident grin on his face, before excitedly telling him, "We have anxiously awaited your return, my liege. Our hearts and swords are at your service."
Peter smiles in reply, but Lucy is the first to speak. "Oh my gosh... he is so cute." She whispers to Susan, who smiles haphazardly in return.
Reepicheep of course pulls his sword from his sheath and defensively aims it towards the Pevensie siblings. "Who said that?" He demands.
"Oh, uh... your majesty. With the greatest respect... I do believe courageous, courteous, or chivalrous might more befit a knight of Narnia." Reepicheep stutters. Lucy beams at him in reply.
"Well, at least we know some of you can handle a blade." Peter curtly states, glancing over at Caspian with an over the top, cocky smirk.
"Yes, indeed. And I have recently put it to good use acquiring weapons for your army, sire." Reepicheep confidently informs the high king.
"Good. Because we're going to need every sword we can get." Peter beams down at the mouse.
"Well then, you'll probably be wanting yours back." Caspian states. He angles it down as he hands it to Peter as if not to cause harm, and when Peter eagerly takes it back, Caspian offers up the smallest twinge of a smile in an effort to create some sort of peace between the two.
Hours later, it is Peter and Caspian who lead the band of Narnians through the wooded forest. Despite Caspian's previous attempt to create a sense of peace between the two, Peter has continued to face him with a bitter attitude. It's becoming increasingly obvious to nearly everyone that the two have forced irritability onto one another without hesitation.
But said bitterness that is shared by the two is cut short by their arrival at Aslan's How.
Peter is unable to stop himself from smiling at the sight of the centaurs that stand dutifully at the entrance. It’s another confirmation for him that he’s home.
He doesn’t notice Caspian step aside so that the remaining Pevensie siblings to take his place. He's so breathlessly enamored with being home that he's distracted by his surroundings rather than the people who follow his lead. Chills run down his spine as he begins to walk through the tunnel of swords that the centaurs have created for him, and they continue once he enters the how. The first thing he sees is weaponry. Tons of it; all being made by Narnians who are so focused on their work that they don't notice their kings and queens of old.
"It may not be what you are used to, but it is defensible." Caspian sighs over the sound of steel against steel.
None of the Pevensie siblings reply to him, but Susan eventually speaks up upon coming across a winding hallway that is decorated with odd forms of art. "Peter, you may want to see this." She frowns.
The group manages to find a handful of torches, and once they've lit them, they begin to venture down the dimly lit hallway. Peter runs his fingers across the art with a furrowed brow, unable to completely comprehend what he's seeing. "It's us..." Susan murmurs as she herself examines the art.
"What is this place?" Lucy asks Caspian, who gives her a confused expression.
"You don't know?" Caspian questions. He then grabs the torch from Peter's hands- receiving a glare in reply- before leading them down through the winding hall until they reach a large, dimly lit room.
Lucy gasps at the sight. The cracked stone table from so many years ago sits in the center of the room, surrounded by carvings of Narnians, and one incredibly large carving of Aslan. "He must know what he's doing. Lucy declares to her siblings after a further inspection of the room.
"I think it's up to us now." Peter tells her, earning a pitied look from Caspian.