back, again | prince caspian

three

"See that you're truly up for this, eh?" a centaur challenged Caspian, muscles taut beneath his glistening hide, skepticism cutting through every word as he sized up the young prince.

Before Caspian could respond, Trufflehunter tugged at my hand, sharp urgency in his grip. "Come on, this way," he urged, guiding me along the winding, uneven forest path.

"Okay, okay, slow down!" I called, stumbling slightly over a gnarled root, the thrill of anticipation and adrenaline making my pulse quicken.

The canopy opened as we arrived at our hunting ground, shafts of sunlight slicing through dense leaves, highlighting the intricate patterns of moss on tree trunks and the soft, earthy carpets of leaves beneath our feet. The forest smelled of damp earth and pine, alive with rustling insects and the distant calls of unseen birds. For a moment, I paused, captivated by the way the golden light spilled across ferns and brambles, turning shadows into a kaleidoscope of gold and green.

"Focus, Elatoria," I whispered to myself, shaking off the enchantment. My eyes swept the underbrush for any sign of movement, every sense alert. A bear's pelt could provide warmth and protection for the journey ahead.

Suddenly, shadows shifted—massive and predatory. A bear loomed, hunched over a fallen deer, nostrils flaring. I drew my sword, fingers tightening around the hilt, muscles coiled for the strike. Then, a piercing scream sliced through the forest, forcing me to abandon the hunt.

Instinct propelled me forward, heart hammering in my chest. I skidded into a clearing, coming to a stop as my eyes swept the scene: Caspian stood firm, sword raised, confronting a frightened boy, tension crackling through the air like lightning.

"Stay back!" Caspian's voice rang out, steady but layered with a flicker of uncertainty that betrayed the weight of responsibility on his young shoulders.

Nikabrik's hand shot out, grasping my arm. "Better you stay at the back," he warned, voice sharp, caution flaring.

I shoved his hand away, refusing to be sidelined. I stepped forward, scanning the scene carefully—Caspian poised and unwavering, the boy across from him tense, each motion weighted with caution.

"Prince Caspian?" a voice called, cutting through the tension and echoing across the clearing.

"Yes, and who are you?" he asked, tone careful, measuring.

"Peter!" a girl's voice called back, excitement spilling through every syllable.

My chest surged with warmth. "Susan! Lucy!" I cried, relief breaking across my features as the Pevensie siblings emerged, smiles bright and laughter bubbling from their lips.

Lucy barreled toward me, arms outstretched, and swept me into a tight embrace. Her warmth was a shield, grounding me amidst the chaos. Susan followed, joining the hug, her presence calm and reassuring, enveloping us in a protective circle that softened the tension surrounding Caspian and the boy.

I let the comfort wash over me, the familiar presence of friends easing the adrenaline that had gripped my muscles. My eyes darted around—if Peter, Susan, and Lucy were here, surely Edmund wasn't far. Emerging from the shadows, he appeared, expression serious but softened by a faint smile, the years of separation bridged in a heartbeat.

I felt my chest lift with relief and warmth as I ran toward Edmund, the familiar bond between us pulling me in like a tether I hadn't realized I missed so fiercely. His grin, playful and affectionate, made the tension of the forest melt away for a heartbeat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Caspian watching—not openly, but quietly, his posture stiffening just enough for me to catch it. There was a subtle tightening at the edge of his jaw, a small shift in the set of his shoulders, as though the easy laughter I shared with Edmund sparked a flicker of something unspoken in him. I caught myself hesitating, a faint awareness stirring that his gaze lingered a little too long on our interaction. There was curiosity there, certainly, perhaps admiration... maybe even something like envy. It made my chest flutter, not with fear, but with a sudden, unexpected awareness of him in a way I hadn't considered before.