Hello! Another chapter in record time (well, for me, anyway)! There are a few moments I was really looking forward to write and it's been such a relief that it's finally out! I wanted to tell everyone! Please, if you like the story, review!

Enjoy!

Chapter 20: Poison

Glozelle was awoken by the urgent rapping at his door.

"One moment!" he called half-asleep, wondering who the hell was so desperate to see him at this ungodly hour. He got out of bed and threw on a shirt. The knocking persisted with the same – if not more – urgency.

"Good heavens, I am coming!" he grunted as he went down the stairs.

At the door, a young soldier looked rather nervous.

"Good Lord, man, where is the fire?!"

"Actually, Cair Paravel, sir. Lord Glenstorm sent me to bring you to the castle immediately."

"Right." Glozelle was taken aback and began to worry, after all his niece was there with the royals. "Give me a moment."

The fully-dressed, former General arrived to the castle a moment later with his escort. At the entrance, he stopped briefly to talk to one of the guards.

"I need this delivered to this address before morning, can you make sure of it?"

The man nodded courtly and went to find the messenger.

Trumpkin – grumpier than usual –, Doctor Cornelius, Glenstorm, Reepicheep and Trufflehunter were gathered in the Council Room, studying Susan's message. A knock on the door announced the entrance of a soldier, who saluted the group.

"My Lords, I bring General Glozelle."

Glozelle bowed respectfully.

"General, I'm glad you agreed to come." Doctor Cornelius welcomed him and gestured to the seat beside him. Trumpkin looked even surlier, if possible.

"I summoned Mr Glozelle," addressed Glenstorm, whose quick gaze had taken note of the dwarf's reaction. "High King Caspian has him in high regard and I am of the opinion that his advice would be very helpful." he explained.

Trumpkin grunted something under his breath but made no objection. Across the table, Reepicheep was not convinced by the General's presence or helpfulness either.

"I wouldn't want to be rude, but there is the not so small matter that this man tried to kill His Majesty twice."

Trumpkin's eyebrows rose in surprise for an instant before they returned to their usual frowning position; it was a well-known fact that the noble Mouse and him were often in disagreement.

"A crime he has already paid and been forgiven for, Reepicheep." Glenstorm interjected.

"And if I remember correctly, you too attacked King Caspian once, Reepicheep, so perhaps you should not be too hasty to point paws." Trufflehunter's mellow voice was heard next. The Mouse blushed under his light grey fur.

"Gentlemen, must I remind you of the emergency at hand? We are gathered here to deal with an urgent situation, not to pass judgement on a good man." the Professor cleared his throat. Glozelle had listened to the whole exchange in silence, impassive, which spoke of his noble character.

Glenstorm quickly got everyone up to speed, pointing to several spots on the map spread on the table. Glozelle felt slightly out of depth, especially when the trolls were mentioned. He had led many battles during his career, but the forest was the one place his expertise failed him. Most Telamarines feared the forest and he had always dismissed their fears as wives' tales, although he now knew the 'spirits' were in fact not so much fictitious but real Narnians living in the forest. Nevertheless, in the rare times he and his men had ventured near the area, they had not been farther than the mere outskirts of the dense mass of trees; he had never truly penetrated deep into it. Moreover, the terrain wasn't the only problem, there was also the issue of the trolls, creatures he could only fathom the appearance, even less how to fight them. He was not going to kid himself about having the experience or the competence to lead this mission; he was no longer a soldier, least of all a General, he had no business pretending otherwise. No sooner the thought of politely declining this responsibility had crossed his mind, the Professor's warm, old voice reached his ears, as if he had read his mind.

"Your reticence is comprehensible, General, you would not be human if fear didn't hold you in its grip every once in a while." the old man smiled. "But you see, there lays the secret to true leadership; a mediocre man would never admit to being scared on the risk of losing the respect of his troops and his peers; a good leader inspires confidence even when he himself does not feel confident. You are a naturally skilled leader, Glozelle, however passionately you object against it. I believe you are the right man for this task, and so would King Caspian if he were here."

It was the second time in less than a day he had been told so.

"I… Thank you, Professor."

As the meeting came to a close, it was decided that Glozelle and Reepicheep would lead a small griffin squad and an additional thirty men to Cair Paravel.

"It shall take us half a day if we depart now." Glozelle stated.

"I was thinking we could fly there, if you agree, General. The griffins will gladly take the soldiers and it will allow us to reach Cair Paravel before dawn." Reepicheep suggested. Glozelle kept a stoic expression despite having been caught unaware by the thought of flying. He had never flown before and the prospect was less than appealing, if he was being honest. Nevertheless, urgency dictated he chose practicality over comfort.

"Never fear, General, it is pretty much like riding a horse." Reepicheep confided with conviction.

"You will dig a hole in the ground, my friend."

Caspian sat on a stump near the fire outside Petra's cottage, arms resting on his knees while his foot tapped nervously on the grass. They had been given blankets and mead to warm themselves up, but Gemini had barely touched his drink, too agitated to stay still. Hence the pacing. Caspian too was worried and anxious for news of Edmund and Myrina's condition, yet knew they had no choice but to be patient, despite it being a concept he struggled with constantly. The Archen Prince smiled weakly in appreciation of Caspian's effort to lighten the mood. He felt responsible for Myrina's safety and could not help feeling like he had failed to protect her, albeit knowing there was little he could have done to prevent this. Hopefully, before he could start feeling sorry for himself, Petra emerged from the cottage, causing them to jump to their feet. Petra raised a calming hand.

"Your friends are out of danger and are finally resting."

"Were they injured?" Gemini worried.

"No, but they ingested quite an important quantity of poison, unwittingly, I presume."

"Poison?!"

"A common mistake. The firefly fruit is easily mistaken with coconuts and its sweet water is innocent to the taste; at a simple glance it is impossible to detect its powerful anaesthetic properties. A sip guarantees a night of undisturbed, dreamless sleep, but your friends drank several cups of it, judging by the amount of empty shells we found around them." Petra explained. "The poison is not lethal, however, it takes long to be expelled from the body and the process is often very strenuous."

Poison, Caspian thought. This night of horror could have done without it on top of everything else.

"We should let them rest for now. I am sure your presence will be all the more appreciated when they wake up." Petra seemed to have guessed their intentions. They nodded, somewhat dispirited but relieved nonetheless.

"However, I shall welcome a couple of extra hands to prepare some soup for the convalescing youngsters."

Caspian thought she was being kind; both he and Gemini would be rather useless in preparing any sort of food as a result of their 'privileged' education, because apparently future monarchs were not meant to know how to cook. They followed her, glad for the distraction, as rest eluded them. Through the small window of the cottage, Caspian got a glimpse of the slumbering youths and their held hands. At least they had each other for comfort.

Somewhere else in the forest, Tairin shot a tired glare at Peter. She had the impression they had been walking in circles; she was almost certain they had passed that oddly shaped tree at least twice before. Peter had decided – arbitrarily – to walk towards the river, and by his estimations they should have reached it already. And yet, not even the faint murmur of water could be heard.

"Admit it, we are lost."

"We are not lost, just marginally off course."

"If by marginally you mean completely…"

"If you have a better plan, by all means, tell me." The King rolled his eyes. "But I would like to point out that I am not the one who climbed a tree in total darkness then got stuck." he taunted and couldn't help smirking at Tairin's aggravated gasp. Like her brother, the Princess had a quick wit and was not easily rendered speechless, so this was a small victory for him.

"One tiny, silly mistake and suddenly is all you can talk about."

Tairin fumed, certain that he would never let go of what in her defence was an understandable error of judgement given the circumstances. She was about to tell him just that when he stopped abruptly and flung the torch he was carrying like it was cursed, stomping on it vigorously. Next thing she knew, he dragged her to the side and pushed her against a tree with force, pressing his body hard against hers. His sudden closeness was unexpected and a hot flush spread up her neck. Her face was practically squeezed onto his chest and there was barely any space between their bodies. It was most improper, particularly if one factored in his shirtlessness. What the hell was he doing?!"

She opened her mouth, fully intending to give him and earful, but his lips pressed to her ear and her lecture died in her throat.

"Listen."

For a moment all she could hear were their uneven breaths and the blood beating on her ears. It took her a moment to be able to concentrate, but then she heard it, the crunch of steps and the dry thuds of hooves. And in the background, almost imperceptible, the soft trickle of water. So they had been close to the river after all. Understanding flooded her; Peter's trained hearing had perceived the noise before her and his first instinct had been to shield her from the threat, from whatever was out there. She should have given him some credit before jumping into conclusions. Peter tensed around her and the silence was broken by an accented voice.

"Drop your weapon and move slowly."

Peter felt the cold touch of steel brush against his cheek; he would recognise that voice anywhere.

"Oh, doesn't this bring back memories…" he chuckled and relaxed, pushing away from Tairin.

"Peter…?"

"Caspian!" Tairin exclaimed, overtaken by joy and relief as she flew into her brother's arms. It took the Faithful King a few seconds to recover from the unexpected turn of events and hug her back. By then Gemini had caught up with them, his torch raised above their heads. One of Caspian's eyebrows rose steadily up his forehead as he took in Peter and Tairin's state.

"I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation for… this." he gestured at them.

"And there is," Peter hurried to say. "But I'm sure it can wait until we are back at the camp."

"About that…" Caspian and Gemini exchanged a look.

Peter and Tairin where filled in about Ed and Myrina's accidental poisoning by the time they arrived to Petra's cottage.

"…so we have to wait until they have recovered at least enough to walk." Caspian sighed gravely.

"Petra said it could take a few hours or even a couple of days for the poison to leave their bodies, so we are stuck here until morning in the best of cases." Gemini added.

"That and the fact that we have no idea how far we are from the camp; a long trek may be too straining for them even then."

Peter was still digesting the news. His family had been attacked and now his brother had been poisoned; if only he had been with them…!

"Where are they?" his voice was low and quiet. His frown was the deepest Caspian had seen him."

"Can we see them?" Tai asked, visibly worried.

Caspian had no time to reply, for a scream pierced the air and they looked at the cottage in alarm. Edmund…!

"Come with me." Petra directed, pushing the door open.

Inside, Edmund was kneeling on his cot, pale and clammy, staring horrified at his hands.

"Peter…?"

"Ed! Ed, I'm here!" the eldest Pevensie launched himself at his brother but was stopped by Petra's firm hold.

"He is hallucinating, My King, we must be careful not to spook him and allow him to regain consciousness on his own." She then turned to the others. "Help me take the girl over there, it may be dangerous for them to be close during this process."

Caspian and Peter stayed with Ed – who looked lost and absolutely petrified – while Gemini and Tairin carefully transported Myrina to the other side of the room.

"What have I done…!" Edmund's voice was strangled as he grasped the thin air, trembling uncontrollably. "Peter!" he sobbed. "Peter talk to me… please!"

It was a most surreal scene to witness, for his brother to be talking to him but not at him. He looked so distraught, so scared… Then the young King looked up, his brown gaze glazed over, inconsolable and alarmed until his eyes stopped on Caspian.

"Caspian!" he exclaimed, clinging to his shoulders. "Caspian, you have to believe me, I didn't want to do it!"

Edmund clawed Caspian's shirt desperately, and the King had never seen his friend in such a state of agony. All Caspian wanted was to tell him he was safe and none of it was real, but Petra's sharp look dissuaded him.

"How about you take a deep breath and tell me what happened, Ed?"

"Peter," he croaked, pointing at the empty cot. "Peter is… is dead! I killed him!" his voice broke.

Caspian shot a nervous look at the Magnificent King as he hugged Ed, who was now shaking with tears. His heart went to the two brothers. It must be hard for Peter to stand idly by while Ed was absolutely beyond himself with grief and guilt for his – unreal – death.

Meanwhile, Myrina had grown restless and showed signs of confusion, almost as if she were sleepwalking. She was drenched in sweat and kept mumbling something under her breath. She then sat up with a gasp.

"It's alright, sweetie, we are here to help you feel better." Tairin soothed, reaching to stroke her hair, but Myrina slapped her hand away, repulsed.

"Don't touch me, you filthy oolai!"

Tairin blinked rapidly in astonishment at such violent reaction from usually meek Myrina.

"Did she just call me a bitch?!"

"Don't take it personally, it is not you she sees, she would never speak to you like that if she were." Gemini squeezed her hand.

Myrina let out a piercing scream and kicked the thin blanket off her, hitting and struggling against an invisible force.

"Let me go! Stop! Let go of me, please…!" she pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks. Gemini and Tairin were numb with shock and simply stared as the Duchess recoiled and kicked against her hallucination.

"Myr," Gemini whispered, trying to get hold of her hand. "Little tulip, look at me." he hoped that his special nickname for her would help in calming her down.

"Don't even think of sweet-talking me!" Myrina pierced him with a glare. "You will never have me, I refuse to marry you or get anywhere close to you!"

"Marry…?" Gemini was genuinely baffled.

"That's perfectly fine, darling, no one will force you to do anything you don't want to do." Tairin was beginning to have an idea of what the hallucination was about.

"You think you can fool me with your condescension?" Myr spat, digging her nails into Tairin's forearm before shoving her away. "How long have you been his slave, huh? Because ultimately that is what all his wives become, slaves! He takes them from their homes and families and then they are at his mercy."

"What about your father? Your cousins…?" Gemini could not believe that anyone in their family would condone Myrina being dragged into a forced union, hallucination or not.

Myr's countenance then lost all trace of emotion. "Family and country must be sacrificed; a married woman's family is her husband and his children she shall bear." she recited flatly, mechanically.

"Bloody cow! If she weren't dead I would kill her!" Tairin hissed, earning a glare from Gemini. "That bloody governess!" she explained and understanding flooded his expression an instant later.

"Help!" Myrina screamed again.

"Caspian, I didn't – I swear…!" Edmund pleaded. "You have to believe me!"

"Of course I believe you, Ed."

"It was her, she made me do it!" the fear in the King's eyes was painfully real, even if its cause was not.

"Who?" Peter asked. Ed had not taken notice of his presence.

"The Witch! She's alive!"

Peter shuddered and Caspian's skin pebbled under his clothes; their last encounter with the White Witch was still raw in their memory. No wonder Edmund looked terrified…!

"She was inside my head, whispering in my ear!" Edmund grabbed his head with both hands. "I tried to stop her, I begged her to kill me instead, to let Peter go…!" The distressed weeping returned with full force. "Caspian, you have to help the girls!" the young Pevensie choked. "They all forgave me and now they are going to die!" Edmund had become hysterical. "You have to hide! Can't you see? She will kill everyone I love! Run!"

Edmund's desperation was palpable and almost contagious. Caspian felt his throat tying into a knot; Edmund was one of the strongest men he knew, but the Witch – and his hallucination of her – played with his insecurities and left a deep scar on his psyche. The Witch had taken advantage of his rivalry with Peter, of the feeling of constantly competing for attention that came from having a big family, all at an age when all everyone wishes is not to be treated like a child. The Witch had manipulated him then left him to deal with the guilt of it all. It haunted him after all this time. Now this hallucination was messing with what was dearest to him: his family.

Peter could not bear it any longer. Had Ed kept all this anguish bottled up inside him? Was this the result of the poison playing up old wounds? The Magnificent King's arms wound up around his brother, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I wouldn't die without a fight, Ed." he pushed the words through his constricted throat.

"I am a traitor…"

"You are my brother and the most loyal man I know!"

"Pete…"

Myrina had backed against one of the walls and hid behind her legs, pale and shaking from head to toe.

"They are coming, they are going to find me!" she muttered every now and then. She let out a whimper and covered her ears, only to gasp an instant later, dragging herself across the floor.

"You'd say someone is pulling her hair!" Tairin whispered in shock. Myr knelt in front of her cousin, staring at him terror-stricken. It broke Gemini's heart to see the horror in her pale grey eyes and not be able to help her.

"I refuse to marry you, I'd rather die than share your bed!" A sharp intake of air and she was now scratching her neck and battling away the ghostly hand choking her. Gemini stared at her in panic, his hands hovering over her shoulders, completely at loss.

"Peter." Caspian placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder, pulling him away from Edmund. The Just King blinked in confusion, brows furrowed, and for a moment he seemed to be aware of his surroundings, that is, until his eyes fell on Myrina.

"Get off her!"

His roar echoed on the small cottage and Gemini was thrown on the floor by a hefty punch that burst his lip open. Caspian and Peter struggled to hold Edmund back as he threw his weight around, intent on hurting Gemini. Myr was massaging her neck, taking large breaths and shaking violently.

"What the hell is going on?!" Tairin threw an urgent look at Petra.

"Incredible…" the healer murmured. "Their hallucinations appear to have… combined! In all my years I have never seen such a thing."

"What do we do?" Peter grunted impatiently, shifting his position to avoid being head-butted by Ed.

"Unfortunately, we can only observe. The hallucination must run its course, it is the only way." Petra explained soberly, calmly. "Your Highness, if you may come with me so I can clean and dress your wound." she gestured to Gemini. Tairin had found a rag and was pressing it to his rapidly swelling lip. The eldest Narnian Kings shared a look of silent agreement. However worried Caspian was for his best friend and Myr, Gemini needed his help; Ed and Myr were in safe hands until they woke up from their state of delusion. Petra aided Gemini, who was still a bit wobbly. Edmund had stopped squirming so Caspian felt it was safe to let go of him and follow them. Peter released Edmund the moment the door of the cottage closed again.

"Ed!" Myr threw herself into the Narnian's arms, clutching at him desperately. The strain of his own hallucination and the commotion with Gemini had depleted what little force he had left and they both collapsed to the ground, never breaking their embrace.

"Did he hurt you?" he stroked her face and hair, lightly tracing the red marks on her neck and chest; in her struggle, her nails had scratched the skin and drawn blood in some places. "That man is a beast, I should have killed him!" he hissed. "Who the hell does he thinks he is?!"

"I'm being forced to marry him, Ed, he wants to take me away by force!"

"What?!"

"I'm betrothed to him, Ed." Myrina's lip wobbled.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, I'm here. I won't let that man get near you again, he will have to go through me before he lays another finger on you."

Myrina shook her head violently. "You don't understand, he will come for me, we need to escape from here!"

Edmund's gaze had not moved from the scratches criss-crossing her pale skin.

"You won't be going anywhere." He shortened the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss on one of the red lines at the base of her throat. "I won't let you marry anyone else," his lips travelled upwards. "But me." And with that, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

"What. The. Hell-"

"-Fuck?"

Tairin and Peter witnessed the romantic gesture – which grew more heated by the minute – in a catatonic state.

"Oh, this is bad, this is really bad…!" Tairin cringed, unconsciously gripping Peter's arm.

"I've never intended on marrying anyone else." Myr smiled dreamily, which only worsened Tairin's pained expression.

"My sweet, darling Casarah…" Edmund breathed, pressing his forehead against hers.

But no sooner had Peter had time to process the lapse, Myr had fainted in Ed's arms.

"Sweetheart…?" Ed mumbled, toppling backwards, Peter catching him right on time before his head hit the ground. The hallucination had finally taken its toll on the teens.

"That was intense…" Peter whistled.

"Give me a hand, will you?"

Peter nodded and took Myr in his arms. She was feather-light and burning up a fever.

"Did you know?" he asked Tairin once he had laid the Duchess on one of the cots. He pressed his fingers to her wrist to check her pulse. It was surprisingly stable in spite of everything.

"That she fancies Ed? I had my suspicions, yes."

"Trust him not to notice, typical Ed…" Peter snorted, shouldering most of his brother's weight while Tairin helped him move him to the cot next to Myrina's. Peter checked his pulse as well.

"To be fair, I don't know how aware Myr is of these feelings, so Ed would have had to read her mind in order to notice something."

"Ah, the curse of unrequited love."

"I wouldn't call it love, per se, mild infatuation perhaps, but not love. Myr is not the romantic type."

"And yet she is scared to the bones of an arranged marriage – and so she should…"

"I would have thought you'd be in favour of arranged marriages and being able to choose your sisters' suitors." Tairin made an attempt at a joke, but judging by Peter's outraged expression, her comedic skills were sorely lacking.

"I am kidding!" she felt the need to clarify. "And that," she gestured at Myrina. "Is a grotesque exaggeration of what Miss Damaris – horrible, miserable cow, I hated her – rammed into her poor, innocent mind: that one day a man, a total stranger, would come to marry her and take her away. She was taught to forget her family, her country and everything she holds dear, because her husband's – Gods, it makes my blood boil…! – was all that mattered."

Peter shook his head in disbelief. He had pondered about the unfairness of women's position in society, particularly in regards to marriage and family. In that aspect, common folk had it much easier; love marriages were more frequently found because there was no diplomacy involved. He had lost his patience many times in the past with a myriad of noblemen from different corners of the world who had wanted to marry his sisters for the wrong reasons.

"I find it hard to believe Lord Caelic subscribes to such a demeaning and backwards way of thinking." Peter rose an eyebrow.

"Of course not! Damaris was sacked on the spot when Scorpio found Myr rubbing dirt on her face to make herself ugly so no suitor took interest in her; she was only eight." Tairin sighed.

"But don't you think they will remember?"

"For their sakes I hope not." Tairin looked determined. "Not like you and I will ever breathe a word of this to anyone. Ever."

Peter nodded. "Not a word."

The two stared at each other for a moment, Tairin's dark brown into Peter's cobalt blue, unable to look away. She had never noticed the flecks of silver around his pupils...

Finally, Peter broke the spell. "I'll go check on Gemini and update Petra on these two, unless you need me to stay?"

Something in the way he looked at her had Tairin transfixed until she realised he was waiting for her answer.

"Ah, erm, no, you can go."

"Shout if you need anything."

Tairin exhaled a long breath she didn't know she was holding. The night had been too emotionally charged and she felt very much unlike herself, a fact she could only blame on tiredness.

Peter welcomed the fresh, cool air that greeted him outside. The heat inside the tent had made him a little dizzy and the scene he had just witnessed had been unsettling on different levels. He was not averse to displays of affection, but whatever that was had been unexpected. Something worthy of the plot of a cheap twopence romance novel. Stretching his sore muscles, he joined the others near the fire, where Petra was cleaning Gemini's lip under the lamp held above their heads by Caspian.

"Say, that's a proper gash you have there." he clapped the Archen's shoulders. The Prince's cheekbone was swollen and the bruise had acquired a purplish colour.

"I was telling Gemini it is fortunate that Ed was not at his best; Justine can pack quite a punch when he wants to." Caspian noted with a smirk.

"A relatively new skill, I assure you."

Indeed, the Just King had never shown an interest in boxing back in the Golden Age, unless it was to watch Peter lose miserably against Corin, and even then, Peter suspected it was just so he could poke fun at him. It was not until Peridan disarmed him during a sparring session that Ed had learnt the importance of knowing how to use his fists. Edmund being Edmund, he had taken it as a challenge to become an expert, training whenever he had a spare moment – he would have trained in his sleep had he been able – and often appearing at dinner sporting a variety of bruises whenever Peridan, Corin and even Cor agreed to train with him. His persistence paid off in the end, within a few months Ed had become rather skilled in body combat. It didn't help that during that awful year back in- away from Narnia he had gotten involved in a few fist-fights – they both had.

"Sorry about that-"

"Nonsense!" Gemini interrupted him good-humouredly. "There is no need for an apology. Had Edmund been in full grasp of his capacities none of this would have happened. I am perfectly happy to think of this as an unfortunate accident." he waved dismissively.

"Spoken like a true diplomat." Caspian praised.

Gemini shrugged. "That poison has the power to invoke the most harrowing visions; Aslan knows how any of us would react to it" he added more seriously.

"You must admire their strength, mental and physical; such torture must not be easy to endure…" Peter commented. He thought of Edmund and Myrina's ill-fated love confession. "Will they remember any of it?" he asked Petra. Caspian shot him a curious look.

"No, but some people remember the feeling of having had a bad dream." the centaur replied. "I take it they have fallen asleep?"

"Yes, they lost consciousness shortly after you left." Peter nodded. Not before they had a proper snog, mind you.

Petra pressed a soaking linen pouch of soothing herbs to Gemini's cheek. "I shall check on them, then. I suggest you come with me and lie down, Your Highness, just to be safe."

"You've earned it." Caspian joked. Gemini winced his way through a chuckle and got to his feet, disappearing inside the cottage after Petra.

"Tough night, huh."

Caspian pour them a drink and shuffled closer to the fire. Peter snorted derisively.

"I think we passed 'tough' a while ago…"

Caspian had to agree.

"Though I'd rather fight a big fat troll with my bare hands than see Ed in that state again."

"Aye, aye…" Caspian agreed. "I never imagined trolls would be such nasty pieces of work."

Peter concurred with a hum as he took a sip of mead.

"You were not at the camp when the trolls attacked."

This was not a question but a statement. Peter exhaled loudly; nothing ever escaped the sneaky Telmarine's notice. In fact, he half-expected him to have deduced the whole thing already. Sometimes he thought Caspian could read people's minds and more than once he had cursed him for it.

"No, I was not." Peter swirled the liquid in his goblet. "I was in Cair. With Nabeela."

"Thought as much."

Peter hesitated for a moment. Contrary to what most people thought, he disliked discussing personal matters even with his family and friends, and it often required some insistence from Susan for him to open up. Many years ago Lucy had called it 'macho bullshit attitude' – vocabulary for which she was quickly reprimanded by Susan – and had criticised his unwillingness to appear vulnerable. He was beginning to think there was some truth in it, but he hadn't had the courage to tell her there were certain things he just didn't feel comfortable talking about to his siblings. Not that he felt any less awkward talking to Caspian.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." His heavily accented voice spoke beside him.

"It's fine, I don't mind."

"We've been so busy, what with the coronation, the ball and the general managing of state affairs, I understand you wanted a break from it all and some privacy with Nabeela." Caspian conceded.

"You made it sound like I planned it to happen…"

Something in Peter's voice told he was not being coy. This piqued Caspian's curiosity and his instinct told him something was not right. Then again, nothing ever was if Nabeela was involved. He waited for Peter to elucidate before asking any questions.

"To be honest, I don't remember any of it, but I had quite a lot to drink."

"You call a bottle of wine 'quite a lot'?"

"More like a bottle of 1300 year-old brandy I found at my old study, still drinkable, mind you."

"So you remember being in your old study, that's in the south wing, right?"

"I have a very blurry memory of stumbling into it and finding the bottle. I must have fallen asleep, because the last thing I remember – and it feels more like a dream than a memory – is Nabeela shaking me." Peter described. His head had begun hurting again.

Caspian did not suppose Nabeela could carry a drunken Peter back to the camp all by herself, but she could have asked for help. He was about to joke about sleepwalking under the influence of alcohol when his gaze caught his fellow King's and the joking mood dissolved into nothing. The troubled look on his face spoke volumes and the cogs in Caspian's brain whirred into action.

"I did something terrible, Caspian."

Famous words that inspired no reassurance whatsoever. Guilt and regret spilled from his cobalt eyes as he stared into the flames, supporting his head on his hands.

"I slept with Nabeela."

"By 'slept' you mean…?"

The look Peter shot his way was tense and full of meaning. Caspian's eyebrows shot up.

"You're hardly the first man, let alone King, to fall prey to temptation, but I understand you are concerned about the moral-"

"Forget about moral! I don't remember any of it, Caspian, not a flash, nothing!" Peter snapped.

Caspian felt sorry for the eldest Pevensie.

"This has never happened to me before! I couldn't have been that drunk, and even if I was, I would never- By Jove! If I could at least remember something, even a fuzzy detail!...!" Peter messed his hair in irritation.

"Perhaps you need to rest for your memory to unjag; this evening has been anything but ordinary." Caspian suggested.

"I hope you're right..."

Silence fell between the two Kings. Caspian bit the inside of his cheek, a question burning his tongue, but he hesitated; he had been flattered that Peter trusted him enough to share his troubles, but given their past together, he knew better than to push his luck when it came to the Magnificent King's bestowed graces.

"Go on, spit it out."

Caspian blinked at Peter in surprise.

"I can see you've got something on your mind, although, I must say, you normally make it harder for me to notice. You're slacking, mate." Peter smirked cheekily.

Caspian couldn't help chuckling. "Right." he then shot Peter an unsure glance. "Well, if you really want to know. I, um, it seems to me – and I may be wrong – that your memory loss is part of the issue but not the issue itself." his brown eyes glinted sharply. "I mean, Ed's told me about a few girls whose names you could not recall in the morning." a raising eyebrow punctuated these words.

"You and Ed are such massive gossip-mongers, you know that?" Peter pretended to be annoyed.

"Not gossip, deductions."

"Oh, excuse me, Poirot."

"Who?"

"Never mind."

Caspian made a note to ask Ed or Susan who this 'Pwarow' was.

"Point is, what's really troubling you?"

Peter poured more mead onto his empty goblet. "Am I that easy to read?" he breathed a laugh. The look on Caspian's face confirmed this and Peter dropped his shoulders in surrender.

"Have you ever felt like you are two different people?" Peter asked after a short moment of silent pondering. "Like there's the King on one side and the man on the other?"

Caspian considered the question for a moment. "Yes, I believe I have."

"Now imagine how it is when the King is exalted as virtuous and wise and pretty much a model of chivalry in a few dozen books."

"But there is a truth to all that, you are all those things, Peter."

"Maybe, but the point is that the books have made me into this beacon of morality and chivalry and integrity, when in reality I am not that innocent and I would be a hypocrite to pretend otherwise." Peter argued. "I mean, I was young, inexperienced, and all of a sudden I get all this attention from girls, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it, perhaps even a bit more than I should."

"Funny how Ed is usually the one people consider as the philanderer. I have to admit that even I have imagined him as a sweet-talking flirt with a string of flings under his belt."

"You and everyone else! It fits his mischievous personality and I dare say many historians took some creative licence with it." Peter smirked.

"Not that he minds..." Caspian added and they both laughed in agreement.

"Ed is a flirt, he likes the attention and enjoys the innuendos and sub-tones of flirting and being flirted with; it's all about the mind games. But he knows when to draw the line and very few girls ever made it to his doorstep, let alone his bed."

"I see. And you are more… how to say… democratic?"

"Let's just say my boundaries are more flexible." Peter's lips curled into a devious smile. "Point is, this is not a moral struggle."

"Right, so if I follow correctly, then what you're saying is that you regret that your rendezvous with Nabeela happened while you were drunk legless."

"I regret ithappened."

Caspian had not seen this coming. Peter appeared positively smitten with the Maharabian Princess, he always had this intense look on him when he was with her, he would have thought…

"Nabeela and I had an argument about it, actually, that's why she wasn't at the beach with us." Peter explained. "Lately she had been dropping hints and creating moods, I can't say I wasn't tempted, she's gorgeous, but caving in to satisfy a physical need would be no different than sleeping with those girls whose name I couldn't bother remembering – because it was not important, because it was just sex, no feelings attached, no need for acknowledgement, no follow-up."

"But surely Nabeela knows you love her."

"I don't."

Amidst his confusion, Peter's eyes were serene. This appeared to be the only certitude he had.

"I like her a lot, I enjoy her company and I am obviously attracted to her, but I've hardly had time to know her."

"I take it you are not a proponent of love at first sight, then?"

"It may be true for other people, but not for me, no." Peter shrugged. "I believe love needs time, you need to truly know the other person as a whole, learn about their flaws and values, their beliefs, and see how all that reconciles with your own. It means accepting the best and the worst."

"It is an admirable thought." Caspian spoke sincerely. "You think Nabeela is going to fast? Maharabians are known to be more lax about these things, you know?"

"I wouldn't have a problem with it if I weren't afraid Nabeela is doing it for the wrong reasons." Peter was rubbing the heels of his hands onto his eyes. "She said she loves me." Guilt radiated from his expression. "I didn't want out first night to be meaningless, and me being drunk to the point of not remembering that is less than reassuring. What if I took advantage of her? I wanted it to be special, you are meant to remember special, nay?" his voice shook with a distraught pitch.

If anything, it was more likely Nabeela took advantage of him.

"However drunk, I don't think you would act against your nature, Peter, not unless you were under some sort of spell." Caspian patted his shoulder reassuringly. "My guess is that you got carried away, you were drunk, not thinking straight, happens to the best of us."

"It's no excuse."

"No, it isn't, but you can hardly turn back time now, can you? Just be honest with her, apologise profusely and see how that works out. If anything, she probably suspected you weren't at your prime, you aren't exactly a stoic kind of drunk." Caspian hoped the light banter would help bring Peter back from the dumps.

"I fucked up, didn't I?"

"Mmm, maybe stay clear of ancient bottles of alcohol for good measure."

"That was some fine brandy…"

"Not quite the repenting attitude I was expecting."

Peter felt good to be able to laugh again. The corroding weight in his chest had shrunk, but guilt still gnawed at the back of his head, and he guessed it would be the case until he spoke to Nabeela.

"Peter, may I ask you something?"

Peter nodded for Caspian to carry on.

"Earlier at the beach… what the hell was that about?"

Peter had wondered when he would ask about it and whether he wanted to have that conversation.

"I'm not sure I can answer that."

"It all happened so suddenly..."

"Not my finest moment, I know, but I really can't explain what took over me."

"Susan said something about us being a competitive bunch of morons." Caspian laughed.

"Thanks for sharing the blame, but I behaved appallingly of my own volition." Peter told in self-reproach. "It was supposed to be friendly banter, not a serious fight."

"That was a mean right hook, regardless." Caspian noted airily. "I wonder if I would have been able to dodge it."

"You probably would," Peter conceded. "But I've never gotten carried away like that outside a battleground."

"It could have happened to any of us, I mean, who hasn't misjudged a punch before?"

"I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, Caspian, but we both know I was well aware of what I was doing."

Caspian admitted Peter had seen right through him and he had a point; they were all highly skilled warriors who were beyond rookie mistakes like miscalculating the strength of a punch. It had been clear then as it was now that Peter had fully intended on harming Zephyr. And the Archen had not been merely defending himself either.

"It is no secret that you two don't see eye to eye, I just don't understand why."

Peter shrugged. "I don't know, mate, there is something about him that sets me off. I'm sure he is a good man – I refuse to believe so many people I respect could be wrong about his character – but I can't bring myself to like him, he annoys me for no specific reason.

Actually, he could think of one specific reason, or rather, someone.

The Magnificent King rubbed the bridge of his nose to rid his mind of the face flashing inside his eyelids. If Caspian suspected anything, he made no comment of it.

"Well, if anything, being attacked by trolls in the dead of night then getting lost in the woods does put things into perspective: nobody will remember your stupid brawl." Caspian rose his goblet in silent toast.

"Aye, aye..." Peter mirrored him. The others may forget, but not Zephyr, and definitely not him.

"Did we honestly just toasted the trolls?" he narrowed his eyes at Caspian.

"Just keep drinking."

AN: there you have it, guys! I hope you enjoyed it and I can't wait to read your comments! I had been wanting Caspian and Peter to have a friendly bonding moment for a while and I feel this was a very good moment for it.

Cheers!