#petervel 014.

[cairspian]

            the  noontime  sun  overhead  coats the king’s exploring party with a blistering heat     ⸺     fortunately he still much prefers this  sweltering  warmth  to the chilly nights they’ve had prior in enduring the ice - cold shocks of  transatlantic  nightmares,       (   caspian tries not to let the guilt eat away at him,     mind circling the searing memory of having to pry away from peter’s embrace  &  face unconsciously pressed against caspian’s chest     ⸺     nightmares.   )       he couldn’t help the squinted disbelieving eyes as  hot  steam  from the geysers bursting out of earth’s breathing pores paint his cheeks a damp  &  flushed pink.    

            scattered rock formations each resemble the flint of a spear,     though one casted out from the others catches his eye with the telling disturbance of  humanity  wrapped around its body     ⸺      quick  recognition  impales his course of thought before mindfully surveying their surroundings.     his hand reaches the rope  &  tugs experimentally,     twice or thrice,     as if renouncing taking a chance on the hardness of the spiked boulder it is fastened around.    any other day he’d chase that  taste  of  adventure,     but not with peter following close behind,     if only for their safety.     brown gaze follows its tail down a fissure where the earth is cracked open.     “   we are not the  first  ones on this island.   ”

            emptiness.     finally,     caspian hears his heart thrum more than think in his mind,     a  hole  that  rivals  the  gaping  loss  ‘pon  his  chest  where  peter’s  head  should  lay  &  breathe  for  eternities  &  eternities.     or is it a  supposed  emptiness     ⸺     there is a rope,    after all.     he blinks thoughtfully.     perhaps men have sailed out to sea searching for  worse  things.

            caspian bends a knee  &  lets a hand search through nature’s rubble,    fingers curling ‘round a jagged stone.    the rock bounces against the uneven walls of the ravine     ⸺     he briefly wonders if there are other directions to the  edge  of  the  world,     if it would be worth following down an unexplored abyss.       he looks to peter.       (   it  is,    it  always  is.   )     a resounding  smack  echoes from the pit.     caspian feels it in his stomach before he hears it by ear.       “   what do you think could be down there ?   ”

                            plotted  starter  for  @petervel​​ !

[cairspian]

PETERVEL  /  petervel:

what  do  you  think  could  be  down  there ?     a sword ,     they should hope .     but perhaps     ⸺     a  lamppost ,     peter decides with a subtle quirk of his lips as he approaches the yawning mouth of the cavern below their feet .     a faun .     a  second  chance ,     for  the  both  of  you .     an  escape  into  the  painting .     it hadn’t taken long at all for  thinking ,     it would seem ,     to take the stubborn turn into  wanting .     you  would  do  well to  renounce  the  habit  of  wanting  whatever  you  cannot  have ,     peter  pevensie .

❛ this  is  narnia , ❜     he says finally ,     left hand curling instinctively o’er the pommel of his sword as he fixes a wry ,     askew smile onto his features   &   uses it as a mask ‘neath which he may finally look caspian in the eye   (  even still ,     do they understand how much it  hurts  to keep his gaze true ?  ) .     ❛ i like to believe i’ve learned the  futility  of  expectations  by now . ❜     it  holds  truer  than  you’d  like .     you  see  the  warning  in  the  curve  of  his  gossamer  lips ;    in  the  way  you  can  still  recall  how  it  trembled  helplessly  when  you  said  your  last  goodbye .     if nothing else ,     peter has learned that guessing at what may come next will only ever lead to heartbreak .     

and yet     ⸺     too late ,     he realises he’s being introspective again   (  painfully so ,     if the look that edmund shoots him is anything to go by  ) .     ❛ perhaps we’ll fall into  my  world ,     for a change , ❜     he offers     ⸺     it’s a  last - ditch  effort to press on ,     and peter has an increasing feeling that he isn’t exactly devoid of company in this acute awareness .     perhaps it’s the  heat  to blame for his lack of discipline .     perhaps it’s the way caspian’s eyes cut thin lines through his disguise and pull his heart out of his ribcage .     

without another word ,     he leans away from the fathomless ledge   &   shrugs his silver and cobalt vest from his shoulders before snagging the  newly - abandoned  length of rope between his fingers in a single ,     smooth movement ,     fingers sliding ‘cross the expanse of braided cord that had been graced with the caress of a king only moments ago .     it’s  the  closest  you’ve  come  to  touching  him  in  months .     it  may  very  well  be  the  closest  you’ll  ever  get  again .     he doesn’t bother testing its strength ;     knows that if there is only one constant in narnia ,     it is that  caspian  x  will not let him fall .

he  can’t  go  first ,     peter reasons ,     even though he knows     ⸺     with every inch of his being     ⸺     exactly why he’d take caspian’s place in a heartbeat :     it is not merely the  devoted  fealty  of  a  subject  that tethers peter’s life to his king .     narnia’s  future  lives  on  in  his  hands .     ❛ i suppose there’s only one way to find out     ⸺     keep it steady ? ❜     keep  me  safe .     and yet ,     perhaps it isn’t peter’s own safety that most concerns him :     a turbulent gaze ,     hidden ‘neath placid blue irises ,     turns to his siblings for little longer than a moment before he finally looks away ,     hesitation weighing heavily ‘pon his chest even as his grip tightens on the line .

               keep  me  steady ?     the question dangles precariously down the dungeon entrance ,    whatever underworld awaits them at the bottom     ⸻     either way ,     they are still left with  a  downfall  of  some  sort ,     a stubborn bated breath that follows them into clear skies ,     spooling from its fraying threads some  eagerness  to carve whatever fort they’d built within the caverns of the dawn treader into the stark reality of these sandstone rocks  &  drop - down caves .     he tries not to wonder what would have happened if the storm had lasted longer ,     if the mist had led them even further astray ,     until caspian realizes that they have no way of knowing if the green cloud had already swallowed them whole  &  caspian is only caught in a very deep sleep .

              there  are  worse  nightmares ,      he reminds himself when he no longer feels steady ,     starts  believing  it  when he resolutely steels before honeyed eyes leisurely slide away from the draw of peter’s shoulders as he sheds his deep blue vest .     (   aslan  has  prepared  you  for  every  trial .     you  must  push  on .   )

              he tips his head in a curt nod ,     though  perhaps  he  does  it  more  to  shake  off  the  flush  lightly  dusting  his  cheeks ,     an untraceable wind howling memories from  before ;     permeating his thoughts as his fist tightens ‘round rhindon .    below  us  could  be  yet  another  hag  &  wolf .     he never questions  why  his high king insists on trail - blazing even the smallest given uncertainties ,     instead falling into the  familiar  step  &  song  tracing its ardent melody in the line that peter walks towards the edge of the ravine     ⸻     a complacent vow in place of the unspoken gamble they make in caspian’s stead :     whatever  thirsts  for  your  blood  will  have  its  appetite  quenched  by  its  own .    

              ❛   of  course ,   ❜     came the simpler answer ,     attempting a coy smile not long before it spectacularly crashes into a meager twitch of his lips ,     ❛   i  am  a knight of ample merit ,     i believe .     i can be trusted with rope .   ❜     even through a tender recollection of his sworn knighthood ,     he does not miss peter’s sidelong gaze     ⸻     there is only a second’s worth of deliberation before the king pivots on his heel to regard his royal majesties .     perhaps it is the least he could do in return for the small mercies caspian had been granted in the past  thirty  days  they had made the voyage from coriakin’s island .     (   do  they  know  it  is  more  than  an  undertaking  that  shook  your  bones  free  of  its  three - year  slumber ?      how  you  look  to  them  with  more  than  duty  calling  to  your  heart ?    )

              ❛   lucy ,     edmund ,     susan .   ❜      the names flit past his lips with ease ,     proper titles hailing from a time long left behind them     ⸻     how three months pass like a relentless tide to find  more  than just the climate changing as seasons do .     ❛   your brother  &  i will investigate the area .     would  you  do  the  honors  of  keeping  watch  for  us ?   ❜     neither does he miss their passing glances before they mutter their agreements ,     slowly turning their backs as if to give them their much - needed privacy .     to this ,     caspian clears his throat ,     tucking thick enough sentiment ‘tween their twin - scarred palms when he brazenly brushes with peter’s hand to  pass  the  reins ,    so to speak .     be  careful .     caspian holds it steady . perhaps they’ll fall into  his  world ,     for a change .     do  not  go  where  i  cannot  follow .