Anything But One

By

Romantic Idiot

WARNING: Contains slash.

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to C.S Lewis.

Caspian's life had been stable, if dangerous, for most of his existence. When his tutor shook him from his sleep his world spun crazily and continued to tilt wildly every moment from then on. It listed dangerously to one side when the Kings and Queens of Narnia had shown up much younger than he had expected. He didn't like to admit it even to himself but he knew he had been hoping that the Kings and Queens – particularly High King Peter – would storm in with a plan and take charge, leaving Caspian to follow orders. In his shock and disappointment he found himself challenging Peter's authority and right to lead. The Kings and Queens looked no older than he did though even Queen Lucy had thousands of years on him, for all that she didn't show it.

It had taken him some time to realise he wasn't so much disappointed in the Kings and Queens but that he wasn't. Despite their ages, High King Peter in particular was everything the legends promised they would be. Peter held his head high, and his back straight when he rode. His gaze, even when talking with friends was piercing and swept the room constantly. The sword of Aslan was always within reach and he saw the Narnians thrill to him in a way Caspian couldn't hope to emulate. Peter had walked straight out of a legend; Caspian was just one disowned man against millions.

He let his head drop gently against the stone floor of Aslan's tomb, but realised he had miscalculated and it hit with more force than he had intended.

'Beasts and bushes,' he cursed under his breath, clapping a hand against his head.

'Careful,' someone said in an amused voice from nearby and Caspian peered into the gloom until he recognised the form of High King Peter coming towards him.

'I apologise for disturbing you,' he said quietly.

'You didn't,' Peter said. 'I was on my way to check on the Narnians outside. Come with me into the light and I will examine what damage you may have done to your head.'

Caspian didn't want to follow Peter into the moonlight but he found it hard to disobey a direct request from the High King himself. Besides, his head really hurt; he would feel better if Peter checked him over.

Without a word he slid out from under his blanket and followed Peter silently to the mouth of the cave. The torches were more prolific here and hurt his eyes until they adjusted and he saw Peter squinting, too.

'Wait here,' he said quietly when he noticed Caspian's eyes were open. 'I will be back soon.'

Caspian nodded obediently and slid down the wall until he saw with his head resting against the stone.

'Don't fall asleep,' Peter warned. 'If you have a concussion you need to stay awake.'

Caspian didn't reply but began naming constellations to stay alert.

It seemed so quiet once Peter was gone and he struggled to keep awake. It had been yet another long day in the war and his soul was still exhausted from the loss of his soldiers.

He jerked awake when he felt a presence enter the cave and realised Peter was kneeling down in front of him.

'You're not asleep, are you?' Peter asked, giving him a little shake.

'No,' he slurred and then came back to himself. 'No,' he repeated. 'Just resting.'

Peter chuckled and pulled him to his knees so he moved into the torchlight.

'Let's see what you've done to this skull of yours then,' he said and cradled Caspian's head in his hands as he examined him. Peter's fingers were gentle and Caspian winced only once, when Peter knocked what he suspected was a growing bruise on his forehead.

'Well, you gave it a good whack,' Peter pronounced eventually and rested back on his haunches. 'You'll have a nice egg come morning but I think you'll live.'

'Egg?' Caspian inquired in confusion. 'We haven't any in camp.'

Peter blushed and smiled.

'It's something we say back in Britain. It means you will have a large bump on your head.'

'Oh,' said Caspian, feeling foolish.

'What did your head do to deserve such treatment, anyway?' Peter asked and Caspian looked away.

'I ... worry,' he said hesitantly, unwilling to seem weak in front of the High King. 'And I miss the friends that I lost in the raid.'

Peter's face softened and his eyes dropped.

'I am sorry for them, too,' he said. 'And I apologise for the way I acted afterwards. We should have considered that your tutor would need help. It was noble of you to go after him, despite what happened later.'

Caspian felt a strange warm glow effuse through him and he risked a glance up at Peter.

'You are such a good king,' he sighed. 'How can I ever be like you?'

Peter blinked.

'Why would you want to be?'

'Because you always know what to do, and how to do it. You don't make stupid mistakes like botching a mission for one man.'

To his surprise, Peter laughed.

'Don't make mistakes? Dear Caspian! I will probably never really know why Aslan made me High King but I can assure it was not because I was good at it straight away. I come from a world so different to this one to compare them seems ludicrous. I didn't know how I was expected to rule when I was so young, and mostly because I was a real son of Adam. For a long time all four of us looked at things as we would in England, and that can't be done in Narnia. Without the grace of Aslan, some of the decisions I – we – made could have seen the end of Narnia forever.'

Caspian stared at Peter, his mouth slightly open as he absorbed the words.

'But ... the legends say you did such great things,' he protested.

'It wasn't all bad,' Peter said gently. 'We learned, eventually. And you will, too, Prince Caspian.'

Caspian said nothing for a long moment.

'You will be a good king,' Peter said firmly, putting a hand on Caspian's shoulder. 'I have faith in you.'

Then he stood up and headed back into the cave.

'You should sleep,' he added, his voice floating back to Caspian through the darkness. Caspian dragged himself to his feet and followed the tunnel back to his pile of blankets.

-*-

The rumble of the Telmarine's regular forced march drove Caspian from sleep and he was buckling on his sword and armour before he was fully cognisant. He ran out into the hallways that were surprisingly still deserted and almost collided with Peter standing quietly in the darkness. He held a finger to his lips when he saw Caspian, and Caspian swallowed what he had been about to say. Peter beckoned for him to come and Caspian followed him down the corridor a way until Peter leant an elbow against a depiction of Narnia's first dawn, and a low rumbling sound made Caspian look down at his feet to see part of the floor creaking aside and revealing stairs. He looked to Peter in surprise but he just gestured him down. Caspian followed directions and headed down.

He came out in a small, dimly lit room, with no table or chairs. Peter hurried down behind him, and they stood for a moment looking about them.

'Luce discovered this by accident,' he said. 'We think it was once used for secret meetings of the guard.'

'It's great,' Caspian said and Peter smiled.

'Yes, I imagine it could come in useful. We mostly used it to hide things from our enemies, but it's been empty as long as we've been gone, it seems.'

Caspian ran out of things to look at, and his gaze wandered naturally back to Peter, who was watching him.

'I wanted to catch you before we begun,' he said a little awkwardly. 'There's something I want to ask you.'

Caspian stood at ease, waiting.

'It's just ... this fight is to the death today, and ... well, we don't know what might happen if we die here in Narnia. What happens back in England? And ... I just wanted to know that there was someone to look after the others.' His gaze wandered around the tiny room. 'There are plenty of worthy people and Animals here, Reepicheep not the least of them, but there's none of them I trust more than you.'

Caspian's eyes were wide as he watched Peter kneel in front of him, staring into his eyes as he drew his sword and held it up like an offering.

'Prince Caspian, will you do your best to protect my brother and sisters, today and forever forward, should I be slain?'

Caspian's heart thudded in his chest as he reached out hesitantly and touched the sword of Aslan. He bowed his head as he took it, and held it gently before him.

'Of course, Peter,' he said, his voice rough.

Peter rose, then, and took the sword back, sliding it home into its sheath.

'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'There is one more thing I wish to ask.'

Caspian nodded jerkily, his mouth dry.

'I want you to deliver a message to each of my siblings,' he said. 'To Lucy, You are right. To Susan, Forgive me. To Edmund, Anyone but that one.'

'These words ... they will make sense when they hear them, yes?' Caspian asked.

Peter nodded and stepped away.

'Thank you,' he said. 'I am indebted to you.'

'Peter,' he said, but Peter pulled roughly away.

'We have to go,' he said, staring up the stairs. 'They are almost here. The others will wake soon.'

Caspian listened and he suddenly heard it too, the grumbling of the earth that had woken him. Peter was watching him.

'It's through the ground that you're hearing it,' he said. 'It's easier to hear here, so far beneath the surface, but it won't be long before everyone hears it. The time is coming.'

Peter moved towards the stairs but Caspian impulsively grabbed him by the arm.

'What ... one?' He asked, his words uneven. Peter looked impassively back at him. 'What one may it not be?' he amended. 'I feel like I must know.'

Peter's eyes glistened in the low light as they stared hard into Caspian's, but he said nothing. Caspian felt a wave of something flow through him, and he swayed a little on his feet. He was brought back by Peter's steadying hand on his wrist.

'Come on,' Peter said quietly, his voice even. 'We have to go.'

And he led Caspian back up the stairs, though Caspian was acutely conscious of his continuing grip on his wrist all the way to the mouth of the cave.

-*-

At the end of the day when Caspian finally had a moment to himself, he found himself in a copse of trees near the giant bonfire that had hosted the festivities after the battle. He sat down with his back against a log, groaning as his muscles creaked. He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his hair out of its bindings. A quiet chuckle broke through his examination of his aches.

'You look like you've had a long day,' someone said, and he was on his feet again, fumbling for his sword before he could think. 'Sit down, Caspian, it's me.' Said the voice and Caspian immediately put down his sword with a shamefaced laugh.

'Apologies, High King,' he said and his eyes finally located Peter sitting propped up against another long adjoining his.

'Come, Caspian,' Peter said, laughing. 'You're a king too, now, you don't have to address me like that. If you do I shall call you King Caspian and see how you like it.'

Caspian moved to sit down beside him, and rubbed the back of his neck.

'I haven't decided yet,' he admitted. 'I was almost relieved when I thought Aslan was going to overlook me.'

'And that's why you gained it,' Peter replied. 'That's the way he works.'

'Yes, well,' Caspian said and then fell silent as he began again to catalogue his aches.

'It doesn't get easier as you get older,' Peter told him, 'but you learn some good remedies.'

Caspian laughed.

'You don't have any on hand, do you?' he asked.

'Well no,' Peter said, gesturing to his bandaged arm. 'A hand is something I'm short on just at the moment. But if you look in my front pocket, there should be some murtlap essence, at least.'

Caspian considered ignoring the offer but it would seem suspicious after he had complained. So he awkwardly reached forward and fumbled in Peter's front pocket, trying not to breathe too quickly or onto Peter himself. His fingers were stiff and unhelpful as he tried to undo the button and Peter laughed softly in his ear.

'May I help?' He asked, and covered Caspian's hand with his own, helping him free the button from its slot. Caspian tried to contain his heartbeat.

'Thank you,' he said a little breathlessly when he had the small ointment in hand. 'What do I ..?'

'Rub it onto anywhere you're hurting,' Peter said. 'I'll do your neck if you like.'

'Oh, no, it's fine,' Caspian squeaked, and moved hastily away from him. Peter eyed him in surprise.

'Oh, okay,' he said. 'But if you can't reach, I'm just here.'

'Thanks,' he replied and awkwardly went about smoothing ointment over his muscles. He discovered quickly that he really needed to take off his shirt to reach most places and that he definitely could not reach his back, but he couldn't bear to have Peter see him or touch him so he made an effort to look like he had succeeded, and handed the ointment back to Peter with a smile.

'Thank you,' he said and Peter eyed him suspiciously.

'You didn't do your back,' he said. Caspian jumped.

'Yes I did.'

'No, you didn't, I saw. You couldn't reach. Please let me help, Caspian?'

It was only the sound of his name from Peter's lips and the quiet stillness of the forest that made him inch slowly closer and hitch up his shirt so the high king could reach his neck. Peter's hand was strong and sure as it moved over his muscles and his collar bone. He called on every one of his warrior's skills to repress the shiver that tried to run through him, and bit on his lip to stifle the sound of pleasure that strove to escape. He couldn't stop himself from arching into Peter's touch, though, and he was sure the tingling on his skin was from more than the murtlap essence. Suddenly Peter stopped and pulled away.

'I'm sorry, Caspian,' he said quietly, his voice uneven. 'I think I'm going to have to stop now.'

'Okay,' Caspian replied and was proud at the level tone of his voice. 'Why?'

But Peter didn't reply and Caspian returned the small jar to Peter's pocket in silence. They sat for a while in silence side by side until Caspian did the bravest thing he'd ever done, and spoke.

'It's me, isn't it?' he asked, and the way Peter stiffened proved it. 'I'm the one thing it may not be.'

Peter's head bowed and suddenly it all made sense to Caspian. The long looks they'd shared before the battle, and the way Peter had looked at him when he handed Miraz over to him. The look on Peter's face when he'd seen him arrive with Susan and the strange darkness in his eyes when he and Susan were together.

'I'm sorry,' Peter said quietly. 'I didn't mean for you to find out. I just – needed someone. A friend. To look out for them.'

Peter glanced up and the look in Caspian's eyes made him back away.

'Do you know what this means?' Caspian hissed, his eyes aflame. 'This changes everything.'

'It doesn't have to,' Peter pleaded.

'Yes, it does,' Caspian replied. 'Oh yes it does. Because this means that it's real. That I wasn't going mad or imagining things. And you – you pulled away just now because you wanted to touch me. You wanted to do more than touch me, and that means that the way I've wanted to touch you isn't so strange, now.'

Peter stared at him in shock, his mouth hanging open. Caspian suddenly moved fluidly forward and caught Peter's open lips with his own, kissing him clumsily and heedlessly. Yet it still felt as though fire burned from Peter into him, and he was consumed.

They fell together, tangled limb over limb, Peter's injured arm trapped between them. And still Caspian didn't let up, and Peter didn't let him. Without knowing how, his fingers had become tangled in Caspian's freed hair, combing through the thick locks. Caspian's face was too close, blocking his air, and Peter was running out of breath, but he couldn't let go. Finally Caspian pressed his lips hard against Peter's one last time and then pulled back, staring down at him.

'Oh beasts and bushes,' he said. 'I just attacked the High King.'

'I'd say the High King liked it,' Peter replied, a little breathlessly. 'But that's just my opinion.'

'He did? I mean, you did?' Caspian asked hopefully, peering out from under his fringe.

'Let me put it this way,' Peter said, a grin beginning to climb over his face. 'You see my sword over there?' Caspian nodded. 'You'll notice that it's still there, sheathed. You'll also notice that you're here, crouched over me, still notably whole. The indication, therefore, is that I enjoyed it. And I'd really like it if you came back and did it again, actually.'

'Oh,' Caspian said, his face flushing. 'Well maybe in a minute. I've got to get my breath back.'

'Come here and do it then,' Peter suggested, and Caspian smiled.

End