Moonshine

Chapter 20- Pagidévo

παγιδεύω: pagidévo
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"Someone needs to pull them apart." Glenstorm said, rather loudly, but even his rough voice did nothing to separate the two kissing boys.

"Aw, but why?" Susan was smiling at them, her hands clasped together. She didn't even care that she had lost the bet with Edmund, in which she had proclaimed that Peter was too pigheaded to realise he had feelings for Caspian. "They seem so happy."

Edmund raised his eyes to the skies, and wished for them to fall down on him.
"Because-" it seemed like he was explaining something to a toddler, "there is still a duel to fight, Susan Eileen Pevensie."

"There's no need for middle names, Edmund Arthur." The Gentle snapped back, but was forced to concede that he was right. Peter and Caspian could kiss later. "Peter- brother- PETER!"

Across the field, Sopespian jumped and almost fell at the volume of the Queen's shout.

Peter pulled away from Caspian, a dazed look on both their faces.
He blinked, "Wh-what?"

Edmund held out his helmet to him, "Duel. Battle. Fate of Narnia. Ring any bells?"

"Oh." His cheeks were red, and he found it hard to even glance at Caspian. "Right."
He moved away from the Telmarine Prince, who stared at the ground, blushing just as hard.
"Well, I-" He was about to turn and head back- he hoped he hadn't taken more than three minutes- when a sharp sting flared up his shoulder. "Ouch!"

His siblings stared at him in worry, and Caspian was gazing at him, too, as he drew a shuddering breath.

He took another breath, as he sat down on a stool someone had found for him- Caspian was beside him, fiddling off the sleeve of his armour, to see what exactly had created that pain.

He wished he could just keep kissing Caspian, he thought, still not looking at the boy he had kissed, though said boy was standing right next to him and Peter was sure that he was looking at him- because kissing him had really taken his mind off all the bad things. All of them.

Finally, he forced himself to look up- and he was right, Caspian was looking at him, his brows knitted but his lips parted, something sweet swimming in his eyes.
For a moment, his hand was clasped over his- gloved, but still- and they were holding hands.
Peter couldn't help a small smile- it was practically becoming his signature Caspian smile now- hoping his own eyes mirrored Caspian's.
Aslan, he had been so stupid, hadn't he?

"Does it hurt?" Caspian whispered, his hand drifting away from Peter's and resting on the armour- and both wished the armour did not cover all of Peter's skin. "Moving this part of the-"

Peter hissed sharply again, and there was the answer.

"Dislocated." Edmund pronounced, at the same time that his brother, recovering from the second sting of pain, spoke, "I think it's dislocated."

Peter's eyes met Caspian's again- Caspian was smiling at him, too, though he was soon forced to move away, as Edmund came to his brother's side.

Though the Magnificent did not wish for the Telmarine to leave- what a strange contrast from having wanted nothing more than for him to leave for the past few days- he was glad Edmund was there.
Not just because his little brother was good with setting bones- but because he wished to talk to him.
Something that might not be possible for much longer.
Peter's heart made him feel like he could live a millennia- but his mind and his exhaustion told him a different story. It was anyone's guess what would happen, but he was choosing to be realistic.
Dying was realistic.