When I jump
I wanna do it so recklessly
And when I take my aim
Yeah, you're gonna know my name
When I smash into you
Don't want the smooth without the rough
I don't want the push without the shove
When you're on the edge
Sometimes you gotta lose your head
And jump right off into the deep
I'll never look before I leap
'Cause I'd rather be careless
And leave them speechless
- Smash Into You • Hey Violet
James Pevensie had always been afraid of dying, however normal it might have seemed in his day and age. The Great War ended only five years before his birth, and then, just before his sixteenth birthday, the second war began. The first was supposed to be the war to end all wars. So why wasn't it?
Too many people had died already. James didn't want to be one of them.
Surrounded by war in his late teenage years has frightened him. The horror stories from his childhood.
James was afraid to die.
When he awoke the next day, that was his first thought. His dark eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of everything that was happening. The whiteness of the light streaming into the tomb was blinding; his eyes ached.
For a moment, everything was blissful.
Then the pain hit.
Every inch of his body ached with a sort of pain that James couldn't comprehend. It all felt stretched, and tight, and intense. Why did it all hurt so much?
He remembered.
A sword was plunged straight into his stomach. He should've died.
Why wasn't he dead?
"Hey, hey-" Edmund's voice rang inside of James' ears as his brother helped steady him. The King had tried to sit up too fast, and luckily, his brother helped him stabilise. "Take it easy."
"Where's Caspian?" Was the first thing he said. His voice was hoarse, he'd not been able to hydrate properly for a day or so. It ached, just like the rest of him. The last thing James remembered was the Prince holding him, so of course, that was what he remembered.
"Don't worry, he's planning things with Peter." The younger king soothed, passing James a crockery cup.
"Thank you." He smiled.
"He's been taking care of you." Edmund admitted, sat beside his older brother.
"Really?" It was odd to hear.
"He's barely left your side all day, I think he likes you."
The words were shocking. Caspian?
He had been so kind to James, and he wished it to be true, but it wasn't. Caspian wasn't like that. Was he? Then again, he had been so open to the idea of James' homosexuality. Was he...? No. Maybe?
Did James even like Caspian as much as he thought he did?
The tall, tanned, black haired Telmarine ran into the room, looking exasperated.
"You're awake!" He exclaimed, happily, moving over to sit on James' other side. "I was worried for you!"
Yes. James liked Caspian as much as he thought he did.
"I'll let you two have a moment." Edmund said, backing away from the group.
When he was gone, Caspian asked. "How are you healing?
James shrugged. "I haven't looked yet." His heart was racing, thinking of the hideous wound, or scar, that would be added to his body. He didn't want to see it. What if it was worse than the others? "I'm sort of nervous."
"If you are happy, we can look at it together." The suggestion was heartwarming.
Gulping, James warned. "It's not going to be pretty."
"Life isn't pretty." Agreed Caspian, not deterring from his idea. "Here, I am wanted dead."
"Join the bloody club." The blonde rolled his eyes, playfully. "You'll love it!"
"You ready?"
Caspian looked up with soft eyes, and nimble hands, reaching towards James' tunic. The King nodded, unconvinced. If Caspian had ever liked him, after seeing his body scars, he wouldn't anymore. If anyone thought his face was bad, his chest was worse.
Caspian was the one to lift the tunic, and upon seeing the new scar on James' stomach, he frowned. He was staring at the King's body, taking in every detail.
James was skinny, and mostly, his ribs were on show as a force of the rationing in England. Where his skin met his trousers, a faint v-line, but not enough to be noticeable. Along every crevasse and every contour, a white line with thick jagged edges. These were his worst. In most places, the crossed over, and the healed skin became lumpy. James was right, it wasn't pretty.
"It's bad, isn't it?" The blonde sighed, looking to his chest.
"No." Caspian shook his head. "Not at all. I think it's beautiful."
James was exasperated. He had to be lying, didn't he? No one else had ever said that, and he hid it all away until necessary. Why would Caspian ever say that?
"You've gotten it wrong, I'm afraid." James said, hurried, as he went to pull down his tunic. It didn't budge. Caspian's hand stayed on the hem, and his eyes swiftly moved to the King's.
"You don't have to hide from me." The Prince whispered.
"I hide from everyone."
"Not me." Caspian shook his head, and moved his hand. Instead of removing it completely from James, he let it fall naturally to the King's waist. His thumb traced a scar, but their eye contact never broke. "Never me."
With that, James leant forwards. It was a leap of faith, something that he was so frightened to explore- but when it came to it, he couldn't have been happier if he didn't.
Their lips didn't touch, not straight away.
James lingered, his nose upon Caspian's. He couldn't decide what to do, and so, wouldn't be the one to make the decision. He would leave that to the Prince.
His eyes were closed, he didn't want to know if Caspian was disgusted or not. Maybe he was. Maybe it was all wrong.
But as soon as he felt Caspian's grip on his waist tighten, he knew everything was going to be alright. Their lips met, softly, and it felt as if they had always known each other this way.
Maybe they would. Maybe this was the start of something completely brilliant and new. Maybe this was what was supposed to happen. Maybe this was why James was first brought to Narnia.
For Caspian.
• - - •
ʜɪɪɪɪ
ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ғᴇᴡ ᴀ/ɴ's, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇғᴜʟ.
ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ɪғ ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ɪ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ, ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʟғ ʙᴏᴏᴋ- ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ?
ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ʙᴇ sᴛɪʟᴇs sᴛɪʟɪɴsᴋɪ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴏᴄ.
ɪᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʟsᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ʟɪᴀᴍ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴏᴄ ʙᴏᴏᴋ (ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪᴀᴍ ᴡᴀs sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʙᴏʏғʀɪᴇɴᴅ).
sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ.
• - - •
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝.
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚝.
- 𝙴𝚖𝚖𝚊
• - - •
1227
• - - •
Disclaimer!!!!
I don't own anything to do with the Narnia book series or film trilogy. These predominantly belong to C.S. Lewis. However, I do own James Pevensie, Alfie and Harvey Gallagher, and their respective alterations to the storyline.