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For Caspian	By : AislingSiobhan Category: A through F > Chronicles of Narnia Views: 5983 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-For Caspian
- 1
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Hey. I saw the movie about a month ago and am completely obsessed with Peter/Caspian fictions since. But there aren’t that many that I could find. So here is one of my own.
First – I haven’t read the books since I was 8. The books are currently in Ireland, while I am in England, so I haven’t access to them regardless. This is movieverse.
Second – Yeah, I don’t have the books, and I have yet to find a transcript of the movie, so if I spell things wrong I am sorry. As such, some of the order may be wrong. Overlook it.
Third – First Narnia fiction ever. I’ll try not to rape anyone (see Harry Potter fictions lol)!
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“For Caspian”
Disclaimer: The books belong to C.S. Lewis, and the movie belongs to whoever it belongs to. I do not own anything other than my fantastical fantasies!
Summary: [P/C] After the failed attack on the Telmarine castle Peter decides he needs to talk to Caspian. One night was enough to change Peter’s life, to alter the very reason he fought for Narnia. He didn’t; he fought for Caspian now. Movieverse.
Warnings: Slash. Slight AU. Character Death. Violence. Language. Peter/Caspian, some Peter/Other mentioned.
Rating: R/NC-17 SLASH!!
XXX
Words:
Chapter 1
For Caspian
It wasn’t something new to Peter Pevensie. In fact, Peter had experienced these feelings plenty of times before. What was new to him, however, was whom these feelings were for. Never would he have thought he could feel anything for the other man in front of him; and, silently he mused, never would he admit it.
Growing up in Finchley in England Peter knew that homosexuality was illegal. The Telmarines probably did not allow it either, but the Narnians were far more open minded – or they had been during the Golden Age. Back when he had first ruled as High King Peter he had many lovers, all male, and took no wife or begot a child. Edmund had once hinted that perhaps if Peter was attracted to the gender he was supposed to be attracted to, Narnia would have had a decent ruler for the 1300 years they were gone. Narnia, ruled by a son of Peter.
The boy snorted, like that would ever happen. He’d leave the baby making to Susan.
In Finchley, it wasn’t hard to find willing lovers. Males were more likely to give in to seduction than women. There was no way to prove that a boy had lost his virginity: no hymen to tare. Illegal, homosexuality may be, but not unpractised. Peter knew that for a fact. After they had first returned from Narnia, at the end of the Golden Age, Peter had been plenty experienced. But in England, he was still a child and a virgin. As much as Susan begged him not to fancy boys here, in Finchley, he couldn’t help himself.
His preferences were what he usually got into fights about. He had happily fucked the younger brother of a schoolmate. Well, mate would be the wrong word. The other boy wouldn’t report Peter to the police for fear that his brother would be arrested as well, so instead he took every opportunity to beat Peter up, or try. Usually it ended up with Peter as the victor, a little bruised, but standing on his own two feet while the other boy panted on the ground.
Peter, except for that one boy, had always been discreet. There was even a club at Whetstone boarding school solely for people of the male-persuasion, though they told the teachers it was for sport. Peter smirked. Sex was like a sport, he supposed.
They were back in Narnia. A year had passed in England, with a few casual trysts – dangerous, as they may have been – but he was back now, back in the place where it wasn’t illegal or wrong to be who he was. It was a pity his cock had decided to stir at the sight of one man who Peter would never submit to. And Peter doubted that Caspian would submit to him.
XXX
“What happened?” Lucy asked as Peter stormed past her. He paused at the entrance to Aslan’s How.
“Ask him,” he spat, looking back at Caspian.
The darker boy’s eyes widened. His mouth turned down and his fingers clenched into fists at his side. “What did I do?”
Peter whirled around. He stormed back towards Caspian, barely controlling his rage. He wanted so badly to punch the other boy, this Prince who thought he was so much better than Peter, but he didn’t. Instead he sneered. “If you had stuck to the plan, none of them would have died!”
“It wasn’t my idea.” Caspian argued, his chest heaving as he tried to control his own temper.
“It was a good idea. You were the one who couldn’t follow the plan.” Peter’s eyes were narrowed and Caspian flinched back slightly. “You were the one who went to Miraz instead of following the plan. If it wasn’t for you, they’d be alive.” Peter didn’t give anyone time to reply. He turned on his heel and strode past Lucy for the second time. The young girl frowned at his back, and shook her head slightly before looking over at Caspian.
The Telmarine’s eyes were watering up, but he clenched his jaw and refused to let the tears fall. He couldn’t bear to look over at the remaining Narnians. If he watched them grieve he feared he would brake down and sob with them, and he couldn’t afford to. Peter may have been brave enough to cry, standing outside the Telmarine castle, but Caspian wasn’t. He wasn’t able to feel defeat, because then, later, it would be too hard to feel hope. He smiled softly at Lucy and headed inside after Peter.
Peter noticed Caspian enter the How, but he didn’t say anything or wave him over. Caspian met Peter’s blue eyes briefly, but lowered his own and leant back against the wall. He let his legs give out and sighed as he slid down to sit on the floor. Peter watched as Caspian drew his legs up against his chest, and buried his face against his knees. A part of the High King felt guilty for having caused the other boy distress, but the majority of him knew Caspian needed a wake up call.
Narnia’s survival depended on them. Just because Caspian put revenge above the needs of his people didn’t mean revenge was more important. The sooner Caspian learnt that, Peter mused, the better. Peter admitted he had fault as well. The blood of those dead Narnians was on his hands. He had failed to defend and protect them; he had fled and left them to die. While there was nothing he could have done for them, he should have at least let them die with dignity, killed them himself if need be, before the Telmarines slaughtered them like animals. Peter couldn’t even make himself stay and watch. Those made him feel angry and ashamed. It was just so much easier to take his anger out on Caspian, than risk doubting himself. He couldn’t afford to, not now, not when Miraz was probably already planning an attack on the How.
When he looked up, Caspian wasn’t leaning against the wall anymore. In fact, Caspian wasn’t even in the room. “Have you seen Caspian?” He asked Edmund as his brother passed him.
The dark haired brother frowned. “You aren’t going to shout at him again are you?”
“No, I just want to talk to him.” Edmund fixed him with a suspicious look and Peter let out a soft laugh. He spat in his hand and held it out to Edmund. “Brother’s promise.” Edmund gave a small smile back, spat in his own hand and shook Peter’s firmly. They hadn’t done something like that in so long; it felt nice to be brothers for a moment instead of Kings.
“He went through there with a DLF.” He pointed to the alcove where Aslan had once risen from the dead.
Peter nodded his thanks, and moved to follow Caspian. The closer he got to the room the more he realized there was something wrong. “Edmund,” he whispered and his brother came closer. “Do you feel that?” A sudden coldness had enveloped them. Peter looked around the room and noticed Susan and Lucy staring at the alcove. So they feel it too, he realized. “Come on.” Edmund nodded and followed Peter into the room.
Caspian’s bleeding hand was held out towards Jadis. The White Witch whom they had hoped to never see again was trapped in a wall of ice, her hand straining to get through the barrier and reach Caspian’s. One drop of Adam’s blood would be enough to free her. Peter was suddenly, and unexplainably, relieved to notice that Caspian was struggling. He was standing in the circle, and must have done so willingly, but his hand was being forced towards Jadis by a cloaked figure.
Peter did what he was meant to do. He shoved Caspian aside, saved and protected him, and he faced the White Witch with his sword raised. “Get away from him!” He cried. She smiled at him, speaking softly. Some words the others could hear, but some were only for his ears. A hum buzzed through his head, muffling the outside world so all he could hear were her empty promises.
I can give you what you want, Peter. Do you want him? She looked at Caspian. He was sprawled on the floor, bleeding hand pressed to his chest, and he stared wide-eyed at Peter. I can make him yours. Yours forever, Peter. Wouldn’t it be lovely? The lovely Prince Caspian, spread out on your bed, all for you?
It would, he acknowledged silently. But he didn’t get a chance to reply as a sword suddenly thrust towards him, through Jadis. Peter watched as tiny cracks, like spider webs, appeared and spread outwards, away from the sword. The ice cracked and Jadis exploded. His arms covered his face, and he heard some of the others scream as shards flew towards them. When the dust cleared Peter stared in shock at Edmund, who was sheaving his sword again.
“I know,” Edmund said as Peter opened his mouth. “You had it under control.”
Peter couldn’t bring himself to reply. If he were honest, he would admit Edmund was wrong. He did not have it under control. Jadis’ promises, though empty and fruitless, had been tempting. The conjured image of Caspian writhing beneath him had made his breath come faster. He hadn’t even realized until Jadis had offered it up on a silver platter. He had found the Telmarine attractive, yes, but he had no idea he wished to possess him as a lover. Not until now. Peter swallowed and turned away from the shards of ice and glass.
His eyes fell on Caspian. The other man had been standing directly behind him, and when Peter turned around they were face to face, their noses almost touching. Caspian took a step backwards. “Sorry,” he said softly, lowering his gaze. “I didn’t mean- what happened-”
Peter pressed a finger to Caspian’s lips, silencing him. Everyone else had cleared the room, and it was just the two of them. “It was not your fault.” Peter wasn’t sure if he was talking about almost freeing the White Witch, or the botched attempt on the Telmarine castle, but whichever one it was Peter meant what he said.
“I am still sorry.”
“You must not be. We all have things to regret, but regrets are not something one should dwell upon. Trust me, I’ve had 1,300 years more experience with this type of thing than you.”
“I know.” Caspian said, his voice suddenly loud. He blushed and took a deep breath. “I know, and I want to be like you. I’ve heard all of the tales and the stories. And in all of them you were Magnificent, Peter, and I wanted to be like you. A good King, a wise and just and magnificent King. But so far I have been a failure.” His eyes watered again, and Peter brushed away the one stray tear from Caspian’s cheek.
“You let your emotions, your desires and needs come before the needs of your people.” Peter said, his voice stern. “You sought revenge and forgot your duty to your people. But it is to be expected. You are only human and you make mistakes, we all do. My mother always said it is easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission, and I live by that. I try not to make too many mistakes, especially ones that cost lives, but when I do it weighs on me and I know the only way I can fix things is to try again. Harder, do better, make amends; earn forgiveness without having to ask.”
“You make mistakes too?” Caspian asked quietly. He was proud, no doubt, but he was still a boy. His father was long dead and Miraz had never bothered to educate his nephew in the ways of growing up a man. His pride was his shield, to defend himself from the cruel comments of Miraz and those closest to him. Despite the fact that Caspian was the true heir to Narnia, many of the Telmarines viewed him as useless, childish, not King material.
And why shouldn’t they? Miraz had never given Caspian a chance to prove himself. But Peter was. Peter was allowing him to help lead the Narnians, even though the Kings and Queens of Olde had returned. He looked up to Peter, and Susan, Edmund and Lucy, but mostly Peter. Peter caused a surge of happiness within him, as well as fear, respect, the desire to prove himself and something else. Something he couldn’t decipher; something that made his heart beat faster and his breath catch and his cheeks flame slightly.
“I make mistakes.” Peter said quietly. He was staring at Caspian, their eyes looked. Caspian’s dark eyes were fathomless, almost indecipherable, but Peter could see the lust that swirled within their depths.
“What kind of mistakes?” Caspian moved closer. One small step brought them nose-to-nose, and Caspian felt as if all of the air in the room had rushed out of the door. He couldn’t breath. There was no air, only Peter.
“Probably this,” Peter said with a grin. He moved forward, capturing Caspian’s chin with his right hand and pressing their lips together. As Peter kissed him, Caspian realized the air was still in the room, but all he could breath was Peter.
Peter’s hand left Caspian’s chin when the blond realized the other boy wouldn’t pull away. Peter fisted his hand into Caspian’s hair; pulling their faces closer together as his tongue invaded the other’s mouth, devouring him.
“Peter,” Caspian panted, pulling away. Peter pulled him back, not willing to let him go just yet. Their lips moved against each other’s, Peter claiming dominance each time, his tongue gaining entrance into the warmth of Caspian’s mouth. His tongue ran over the others, making Caspian moan into the kiss. He pulled back, panting as well. His eyes roamed over the darker boy. Where he was tanned and golden, Caspian had naturally olive skin and dark hair: Peter’s dark Prince.
He made short work of Caspian’s armour and clothing. They all lay piled upon the floor before Caspian could protest. Peter’s eyes lingered on Caspian’s chest, before moving down, tracing the thin line of hair until he caught sight of the man’s genitals. Caspian blushed at the scrutiny and attempted to cover himself.
“You are beautiful.” Peter told him breathlessly, dropping to his knees. “Do not hide from me.” He took Caspian into his mouth and the Telmarine gasped, ignoring the fact that anyone could hear them and walk back into the alcove. The Prince was soon completely erect, and a slave to his pleasure. He could barely form words as Peter’s lips and tongue moved on him, sucking him deeper into his mouth and swallowing around him. Peter pulled back, and Caspian thought his legs might buckle from frustration. “Come for me,” Peter whispered. His swallowed Caspian’s cock again, sucking harshly until Caspian came, shuddering and moaning his orgasm. Peter swallowed his released and pulled back, just in time to catch Caspian as the man’s legs gave out and he sank to the floor beside the High King.
“Peter, Peter,” he breathed softly, his voice filled with awe. “That was-” He stopped himself, took a deep breath and tried to calm his breathing. “You did not find release.” Caspian finally said, turning to face the blond who was still on his knees, and fully dressed.
Except he wasn’t dressed. While Caspian had been composing himself Peter had stripped off and was now as naked as the other boy. “But I will,” Peter promised the dark haired boy as he leant over to steal another kiss. “This night is far from over.”
He kissed Caspian breathless again; glad of his previous experience because it meant Caspian was too flustered to protest. Caspian was pure, untainted as of yet. His first kiss was quickly turning into his first time, but Peter had enough experience to arouse Caspian enough to keep him on the edge, needing completion rather than wanting it. Caspian would not say no to him.
“Lie on your stomach,” he said, pulling out of another earth shattering kiss.
“What?” He asked wide-eyed, not moving.
“Trust me,” Peter implored.
Caspian smiled softly. “I do.”
“I will not hurt you.”
“I know.” Caspian rolled over, missing the soft look that crossed Peter’s face. Without being told Caspian spread his legs, allowing Peter access to his most private areas.
Peter lay behind him, his face above Caspian’s arse. His tongue flicked out to lick the base of his spine, where his back curved out and Caspian gasped at the unexpected feeling. He gave a loud, low, moan as Peter’s tongue found his pucker as licked at that as well. His eyes were squeezed shut, his hands scrabbling at the ground for purchase as Peter kissed him down there. Peter’s tongue worked its way inside of Caspian, past the protective muscle which winked at him every time Caspian tensed and relaxed.
In Finchley, he had always carried a tub of Vaseline just in case, and back in the Golden Age he had access to plenty of lubricants. But here, now, he had not been prepared. All he had was his saliva, and he had promised Caspian he would not hurt him.
Peter pushed a finger into Caspian; his mouth now pressing kisses to the other boy’s trembling thighs. “Ah!” Caspian gasped, turning his head to look back at the blond. “Peter!” He called, his voice harsh with need. “What are you doing?”
“Preparing you.” Peter added another finger, scissoring them, stretching Caspian. After adding three fingers, he felt relatively satisfied that he had prepared Caspian enough. He pulled his hand back and spat in the palm. He took hold of his own penis and rubbed the saliva onto himself, coating himself. “Are you ready?”
Caspian just moaned and arched his back, pushing his arse towards Peter.
Peter spread Caspian’s cheeks with one hand and took hold of himself with the other, guiding his cock to Caspian’s entrance. The rosette clenched and unclenched, winking at him, as Peter pressed inside of the other boy. Caspian cried out, before he put his fist in his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he tried not to scream. He had heard talk of sex from older members of the Telmarine servants to know that it always hurt the first time. He tried not to cry as the burning pain spread down his legs and up his back making his shudder. Peter hovered over him, staying still and letting him adjust to the sudden fullness. Caspian wanted to thank him, for trying not to hurt him, for waiting, but he was afraid to take his fist out of his mouth in case he cried out instead of spoke.
“Caspian,” Peter breathed against his neck. His warm breaths came in puffs, making Caspian’s skin tingle.
Peter was pressing kisses to his shoulder blades and neck, and suddenly the pain was gone. It was like it had never been there, and Caspian could only feel the completeness that accompanied being filled by Peter, and the pleasure that came with the action. He arched back, taking the hand from his mouth and pushing against the floor for leverage as he pushed back into the other body. Peter took the hint, and pressed forward, finally sheathing himself to the hilt before he pulled back and surged forward again.
Each time Peter pulled away, Caspian felt a sudden emptiness, a desperation that never lasted long because Peter would always come back to him, filling him, completing him.
Peter had been in love twice in his life, both times were during the Golden Age, and he had never loved in England. But he was sure, as he looked down on Caspian writhing beneath him on the floor, that he could fall hard and fast for the Telmarine Prince. He hadn’t even been aware of how deeply he desired this man until earlier that very day when the White Witch offered him up in exchange for freedom. And now, when this was over and they went back out to war, when there was the possibility of losing Caspian – Peter thought he might suddenly realize he was in love. At the most inappropriate time, no doubt.
Caspian’s pleasure came swiftly. One moment he was panting and gasping, the next without warning he let out a cry, his hips jerking involuntarily as he experienced the bliss he had felt within Peter’s mouth earlier. His stomach was sticky and wet, and Peter was still rutting above him. Open-mouthed kisses were being peppered across his upper back and Caspian groaned as Peter struck that place inside of him that had caused stars to explode behind his closed eyelids. Peter groaned. His orgasm was more drawn out: he felt the fire licking at his abdomen, the tightening of his groin and stomach and leg muscles, the way his thrusting became more frantic and less measured. Peter felt the rush of absolute pleasure surge through his system, his skin tingled head to toe as he arched his back, slamming into Caspian one last time before coming with a groan. He bit down on Caspian’s shoulder, muffling his cry as his hips jerked.
He collapsed on top of Caspian, a smile on his face as he listened to the other boy murmur softly beneath him. He couldn’t make out what Caspian was saying, but he was sure it was similar to what he was thinking: that was amazing; I think I love you; we should do that again.
Peter rolled off of Caspian, and watched as the sixteen-year-old sat up, blushing furiously. “No one needs to know if you are ashamed.” Peter said softly.
“I’m not. It’s just, Telmarine law makes what we did a crime, how will they react?” Caspian was nervous and Peter suddenly realized that particular emotion – which he had never been fond of – made Caspian look almost irresistible.
“So does English law, but Susan and Edmund do not care. Other than worries for my safety, they support my choices.” Peter reached out to brush the hair from Caspian’s eyes, pressing a soft kiss to the boy’s cheek afterwards. “You will be King here, and then you may change the law.”
“Until then?” He asked as Peter stood and began to redress.
“Those that care won’t matter, and those that matter won’t care.” Peter said with a smile on his face, eyes softening as he looked at Caspian. The Prince smiled then as well, and gathered his clothes. They dressed silently, each smiling to themselves.
Their lips met in a chaste kiss as Edmund ran into the room. The younger King froze at the sight, before regaining his composure. “Peter, Caspian!” He said, breathless. He had run there from wherever he had been. “Miraz’s army is on the way!”
Peter met Caspian’s eyes, his hand stroking the soft skin of Caspian’s cheek lightly. Then he turned to face Edmund. He stopped being Caspian’s lover in that moment, and was only Peter the Magnificent; his focus was solely on defending Narnia. Caspian hoped, one day, to be like Peter. As did Edmund.
They watched in awe as Peter took charge, like he was born to be King. He had earned the title, had learnt the ways to take charge and lead, and that meant more than being a born King ever could. “Do you remember the plan?” Everyone nodded and Peter smiled. He raised his sword in the air; his eyes met Caspian’s. “For Narnia!” He cried and everyone echoed him.
Caspian was lost in Peter’s blue gaze, not knowing he was the cause of Peter’s determination and drive to win. Without realizing it, Peter had fallen in love with Caspian.
As he cried ‘for Narnia!’, what he had really meant, what had gone unsaid, was ‘for Caspian!’.
He fought for Caspian; for Caspian’s love and life, so Caspian the Tenth may one day know what it is like to be a King, like Peter Pevensie.
XXX
I told myself I won’t miss you, but I remember what it feels like beside you. I really miss your hair in my face, and the way your innocence tastes.
The End
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Thank you for reading. Please leave a review!
The lyrics at the bottom are by Hinder – “Better Than Me”. The banner is by me, and it is rubbish but my dad hasn’t got the programs I have at home, so it cannot be helped.
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