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ninasdreams) wrote2009-06-11 05:24 pm
Let Me Fall
Title: Let Me Fall
Pairing: Peter/Caspian (very slight)
Warning: None really, aside from brace yourself for angst.
Disclaimer: Definitely don't own Narnia or the characters. If I did, slash would not just be in fanfiction.
Peter stood in silence as the others left the chamber, staring at the chunks and shards of ice that littered the stone floor. He had come so close to destroying them all, to unleashing the evil that they had all fought to destroy centuries before.
Peter clenched his eyes shut, drawing in a long shaky breath. He had made so many mistakes in the time they’d been back in Narnia. The failed attack on Miraz’s castle replayed in his mind. He saw once more the trust in the brave minotaur’s dark eyes, even as his knees gave out under the pain of his wounds, leaving the gate to crash down upon him. Peter shook as he heard the cries for himself to flee, uttered by those trapped within the courtyard to face certain death, ringing in his memory.
Caspian’s words rang in his mind. “And if you’d just stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be!”
Peter didn’t notice his body begin to tremble uncontrollably as tears began to make their way down his cheeks.
He would never admit it openly; never admit that he’d been wrong. But in his heart he knew. It had been his idea to leave the safety of the How, his foolish need to prove that he was still worthy of leading the Narnians and being called High King. It was his stupid pride that had cost those brave souls, doomed them to slaughter. While he had fled, they had been viciously murdered like mindless beasts.
“I am not the one who abandoned Narnia.”
They’d never meant to leave, never meant to abandon their beloved Narnia. The pain and frustration of becoming a child once more, of living with the knowledge of an entire lifetime, had tortured Peter endlessly. To be a helpless child stranded in the midst of a senseless world ravaged his heart and soul, killing a little part of him each day.
Peter barely felt the strong muscled arms wrap him in a comforting and apologetic embrace, as if knowing his thoughts. All the eldest Pevensie knew were four words.
It’s all my fault.
It was with that phrase that the weight of the last year, his guilt, and his despair crashed down upon him, tearing forth the first ragged broken sob from his chest.
Peter sunk to the ground as his legs gave out, his descent slowed as the one comforting him dropped to the ground as well.
Peter sobbed convulsively as the images of blood and the bodies of his fallen comrades haunted his mind, the echoes of their dying cries resounding in his ears.
And Caspian merely knelt there with him, silently cradling the fallen king in his arms in an effort to console him. Blinded by his own feelings of envy, disappointment, and admiration, Caspian had been oblivious to Peter’s fragile state.
For while Peter Pevensie was High King of Narnia, he was still a young man no older than Caspian…a young man who bore the weight of a great history and an entire kingdom on his shoulders.