Biting his lip, Caspian looked down, face stinging. He kept back the angry response that rose up inside him. He kept his head down. Quiet. Subdued.
Miraz thought him weak, but it was easier to stay silent. Not to fight back. It would only result in a situation worse than this. Caspian had learned to take his punishment without much response besides acceptance.
At least outwardly, inside, he wanted to fight back, to defend himself. He wanted to shout, to show the fire in his eyes. To be defiant, to stand up for himself.
He didn't.
He kept looking down with a mumbled "I'm sorry." He'd numbed his heart to this almost as much as his face. He could take it. Silent, humiliated, weak, as his uncle claimed. It had taken him some time, but Caspian had learned to bite his lip and keep looking down. Not to show his defiance.
He nodded slowly at his uncle's words, turning to leave. His face would stop hurting soon enough. No slap was permanent. At least, not physically.
But visible scars weren't the only scars; some would never be seen.
Some things lasted a long time- even without a mark to show. Caspian didn't remember how many times he'd been smacked, didn't care to. Didn't really remember why for most, but he did remember that it happened and hide it though he may, he feared it. Every time, no matter the age, no matter how hard.
He hated being in any way afraid of his uncle, but he always felt so small and helpless in this. Caspian could remember multiple times not even knowing what he'd done wrong, but he wouldn't argue with Miraz. He would apologize, accept what he knew would follow, and leave.
Quietly.
Submissive.
Lacking the backbone Uncle Miraz claimed he didn't have. Miraz thought he would be a weak king and was always sure to tell him. Reminding him of how much of a failure he was; how disappointing. That he would never be a successful king.
Never be good enough.
Once Caspian was king, Miraz would see. Caspian kept himself hidden- kept himself safe. He wouldn't fight his uncle in some things- it would be pointless. It wouldn't accomplish anything, and it was easier to stay silent, wrong or not.
Caspian didn't want to be a king like Miraz wanted. At least, he didn't think he did. He preferred the old Narnian tales- the kings and queens depicted there. He liked the idea of Aslan- of the old Narnia. Caspian couldn't see how Uncle Miraz's idea of what a king should be was correct. It was so selfish and demanding. So entitled. He didn't say that, though, just kept quiet and looked down. Miraz expected that of him and then berated him for it, calling him a poor excuse for a prince.
Weak.
Caspian didn't lack backbone; he wanted to stand up for himself, and yet, he wouldn't.
Not yet.
He would stay quiet, and he would do as he was told. He could. Proving he was strong had never worked well, so he'd wait until he was crowned king- and then he would prove to Miraz that he'd been wrong. He would prove he was capable; strong.
The thought of becoming king left him filled with a sense of unease, both from feeling unprepared, he wasn't sure he'd ever really be ready, and his uncle's fascination with the throne. But it was coming someday.
He brushed his heated cheek, shuddering, silently fighting for control. He wouldn't react. He couldn't react. As future king, he could not fear this- or anything else. He hated that he did fear it, wished he did not. But wishing had never changed his reality.
Keeping his head down and thoughts silent, Caspian left his uncle, pausing briefly by a mirror in the hall, barely glancing at the image that met him. His eyes looked defeated, his face afraid, his cheek barely tinged red. This was not the face of a future king but of a lonely, frightened boy.
The mark would disappear, the fear could be hidden, the defeat conquered, and then this would be the face of a future king. Then he would look the part.
But the fear would still live inside, and the mark on his face would stay in his mind forever.
Time healed things, would make things different, but some things always remained hidden or not, and though hidden, these scars would never truly disappear.
YOU ARE READING
(Narnia) Broken Pieces -Caspian X- A One Shot Collection
Fanfic"If only he'd been a little older, then he would have his own memories. But his father and mother were gone, leaving him in a castle, surrounded by people, yet almost entirely alone. Alone without even a memory..." Short one-shots exploring Prince C...
