{ ... The journey home ... }

Title: Following The Light: A Tale Of Two Kings: Chapter 2
Author: celefinwe
Pairing: Peter/Caspian
Rating: (PG-13) Battle and blood alert. Not for the faint hearted.
Word Count: 1506 words
Summary: In times of darkness, one must follow the light to find what they are looking for. On the battlefield, sometimes you can win more than just the war.
Disclaimer: I do not own the delicious OTP that is Peter/Caspian or is in any way remotely related to CS Lewis. This is all nothing more than a figment of my imagination fueled by the desire to see these pretty,pretty people together in a non angsty way.

Author's Note: Thanks to my wunnerful beta, collie_lover for working so fast and efficiently, and putting up with my procrastinating ways. Fear the beta with the imaginary whip of doooom! ^_^

Thundering hooves from the incoming Telmarine cavalry was deafening. Their hideous masks glinted under the blazing sun. Peter never flinched.

“Five!”

Caspian should be almost there now, at the underground maize with nature wrought columns under their feet. Finding it was co-incidental. Adding it to their plan was ingenious. He just hoped no one got trapped or hurt.

“Six!”

Lucy had to be alright. She was the one who had the most faith. Aslan may have abandoned Narnia to its own fate for 1300 years, but He would not abandon them now!

“Seven!”

From the corner of his eye he could see Edmund taking a step forward. He wanted to pull him back, to tell him to stand with Susan and the archers where it was safer. Edmund stole a quick look at him and he knew. Edmund would throw himself in front of Peter to protect him from being trampled if Caspian failed.

“Eight!”

The ground trembled where he stood and Peter allowed himself a grim smile. Caspian did it! He and the rest of the Narnian army should be heading above ground now.

“Nine!”

Peter gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. He quickly turned around to see if the others were ready too. This is it. The second great battle of his time. For Narnia and for Aslan. For Edmund, for Susan and for Lucy. For Caspian.

“Get ready!”

The land rippled and shifted in front of him until it finally gave way under the advancing enemy troop. Men and horses alike fell into the opening in the ground. Cries of panic and shock filled the air.

Volleys of arrows fell from the sky onto a scene of madness. Peter didn’t have to look to know where they came from. From the ledge, Susan would have full view of the battle. If things should turn out badly, she was to lead the women and children to safety. He prayed for Susan’s sensible side to prevail and that she won’t lead them to join the fighting out of desperation to save him and Edmund instead.

There was less movement in the hole now. Those who were still alive were making their way back. Now!

“For Narnia!”

That was when he saw him, Caspian leading his company in from the rear. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He cut his way through the resolute faces to get to his Prince. There were matters that had to be set right between them. He refused to die now.

Swing. Block. Parry. Thrust. Peter lost himself in the sheer struggle to stay alive. Friends and foe fell around him. The air hung heavy with the smell of blood and death. He couldn’t stop. He had to find Caspian. He had to see with his own eyes that Caspian was alright. Without turning to look over his shoulder, he shouted for Edmund to follow him.

Like stepping into the center of a whirlwind, Peter found himself up against a single Telmarine soldier. All the careful planning and preparations and it came down to this. His opponent had lost his mask. He looked no older than Peter himself and was wielding the pikestaff as if unsure what to do with it, its tip already gleaming red. He looked horrified, ready to throw it away and just run from all of this. Peter wished he would.

Then his face hardened and he pointed it at Peter. He charged. There was no other choice.

Peter swung his sword and the other fighter raised it over his head to block. Peter swung again and this time the staff broke in two. Before the soldier could recover himself, Peter took half a step forward and buried his blade to its hilt in the other man’s chest. He wasted no time in pulling it out again and tried not to hear as the man-child gasped for his last breaths.

He would mourn for all the dead later, Narnians and Telmarines alike. It was time to tend to the living. He turned around only to see more fighting and death. On foot he couldn’t see if a certain Prince lived. His chest tightened and he urgently threw himself back into battle.

But this time, more of his own people were lying on the battle field than that of the enemies’. From all sides but one, the foot soldiers were marching in.

‘There’s still time. We have to buy Lucy more time.’ Peter grit his teeth and prepared to order his army forward.

A scene flashed into his mind. Narnians screaming, massacred in the castle courtyard. The drawbridge was being lifted. He had to go, but he couldn’t leave them behind.

‘You can still call it off. There’s still time.’ It wasn’t the sound of his own conscience he heard that spoke to him. Or if it was, it sounded a lot like Caspian. He needed to get them all back to the How!

“Fall back! Back to the How!” Peter commanded.

The few that heard him started to run back.

“Back to the How!” He repeated desperately.

As he ran, he thought he saw glimpses of the Prince running beside him. There was no time for him to confirm it. Large stones sailed overhead and threatened to block their escape. They crashed onto the How and Peter’s heart stopped. Susan!

As the dust and the debris cleared, Peter could now see that the entrance to the fort was completely blocked by huge boulders that fell from the catapult. There was no way in. They were trapped.

Peter felt his presence then. Relief washed through him as he turned to see Caspian standing by his side, looking worse for wear, but still his Caspian. Their eyes met briefly and Peter heard the answer he longed for from the first moment their paths crossed. He could die now and have no regrets.

Susan’s cry for help broke his daze. She was dangling over a ledge. She was too high up. There was no way that he would make it to her in time! A few terrifying minutes later, the dwarf Trumpkin had manage to pull her back up and Peter said a silent prayer to whatever force that was looking out for them, be it Aslan or something else.

The battle was far from over. Outnumbered and trapped, there was little chance that they would make it out alive. But they had to give Lucy the time she needed to complete her mission, even if it meant that they had to pay for it with their own lives.

It was true that when facing certain death, one’s mind is able to see with absolute clarity. When Susan asked him who he was doing this for, he thought, it was for the Narnians, to absolve what ever guilt he felt for abandoning them in the first place. Now he knew that that wasn’t entirely true. He did this for the rightful king of Narnia who blew on a horn to bring them back here. He did it so that the Prince with the soulful eyes and idealistic ambitions could set things right back in Narnia and become the King he was meant to be.

Shouting his battle cry, he ran ahead. He could feel them following him. Susan, Edmund, Caspian and what was left of his army. He was still their King, and he was about to lead them to their death.

Peter kept fighting even though the adrenaline was wearing off. His bruised and tired limbs screamed in agony every time he lifted them, but each time he told himself, ‘Not yet. I won’t die just yet.’ At the back of his mind, he dared to hope that Lucy would find Aslan in time to save the others.

“Peter, look! The trees!”

Peter turned to look to where Edmund was pointing. He looked excited. The trees?

Then one of those trees picked up one of the fleeing Telmarine soldiers with its branch and snapped him in two. That meant… Lucy was safe! She must have found Aslan and the animated, fighting trees were sent by him.

The realization that they were now saved hit him so hard he almost staggered to his knees. Only the strong grip to his forearm stopped him from tumbling over. With a little help, Peter managed to straighten up and turned around to look at the one who had saved his dignity from falling face first into the grass.

Peter had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. Face marred by dirt and blood, hair in disarray and a cut above his brow, Prince Caspian was the image of male beauty. Those eyes, dark as midnight, looked deep into his soul. There was no turning back now. Their lives would never be the same again.

As they followed the retreating army to the river, Peter thought, it may not be exactly like riding off into the sunset, but as far as he was concerned, it was close enough.

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