For King and Country ⭒Caspian x Reader⭒

Chapter 15

"We spread out across the forest. If there's one, then there's more," Caspian said, addressing the men and women saddled and hanging on his every word in the dim, dawn light. 

Soldiers in the crowds were rubbing their eyes and yawning during the ungodly hour, and for being clad in impenetrable, clanky armor there was hardly a sound coming from the throng. Despite the hope that had ignited in the hearts of Narnians at the news of Aslan's return, the remaining shrouds of safety were being stripped away planting vulnerability in every heart.

There had been sightings and of course the death of Sorin at Vidalian hands, but that had occurred months ago, lulling the people into a false sense of security. Perhaps that was the plan all along, present a taste of danger, let everyone believe it has been quelled, only to come back harder and stronger.

Morgan was beside me, astride her steed with speckled white spots over its dark hide. Her mouth was set in a firm line and even her eyes didn't dance as they did before, but one only had to look at the purple and blue bruises painted around her neck to see where this loss of vitality stemmed from.

"-take them alive if you can, but protect yourselves first," Caspian said, reining in his chuffing horse. 

Caspian canted over to Morgan and I as horses from the crowd peeled off into the woods of Narnia. Morgan stared into the woods, eyes steely, the grip on her reins firm, "If someone must die today, I want to be the one to do it."

"Morgan-" Caspian began to say, his eyes laced with distress. Seeing her go from vibrant to detached was like watching the sun lose its light.

"Don't," Her head whipped around to him, "If it comes down to us surviving or one of them having to die, I deserve the right."

Caspian watched her in resignation knowing that he could not deny her this. Somewhere in the hours of the night, as I sat beside her bed as she tried to rest, she had made up her mind that she wouldn't let the servants dote on her and treat her as a piece of porcelain. She would face this threat head-on.

"You're right," Caspian said, pulling his horse towards the wood leading our small group, "If it must be done, I'll allow it."

Titus and Peter pulled up the rear, scanning the trees around them. There was no laughter filling the air or snide remarks being tossed around, just the sound of horses chuffing, trees rustling, and the slide of rocks under the horse's hooves. 

Morgan kept an arrow knocked in her bow as she rode, ready to release it should the situation arise. Glancing back at Peter, when his eyes weren't roaming the trees around us, they were fixed on Morgan as if a tilt of her head or a shift in her saddle could show him what was running through her mind.

In the morning before we had left, Peter asked that she allow him to ride with her, in case something happened he'd be right there, but she bristled and snapped, "You've never looked at me this way before and I don't like it. I didn't become fragile overnight."

Caspian paused our party in the middle of the beaten, dirt path after we had only been riding for half of an hour, pulling out a yellowing map, consulting it for the path we had charted to take.  Some parties had been tasked with paths that would take them deep into the Narnian wilds where only the wind could hear any cries for help if they ran into danger. 

"We're close to the end of our path," Caspian looked up from the thin parchment, sweat was forming on his brow as spring was bleeding into summer. He wiped his forehead with the loose cloth underneath his armor, squinting into the distance as if he could see our stopping point. 

"What if we don't find them?" Morgan said, her hands gripping her bow tighter. 

"Then we have to go back for today. We weren't tasked with as wide of an area," Caspian said, rolling up the parchment and tucking it back into his saddlebag.