narnia · prince caspian · peter pevensie · sword fight · conflict · fantasy · csp · tension · unresolved
The forest clearing hangs in a breathless stillness, broken only by the ragged gasps of two exhausted fighters. Dappled sunlight filters through the canopy, glinting sharply off the blade held firmly against Peter’s throat. Prince Caspian stands over him, sweat tracing a path through the grime on his brow, his grip on the worn sword unyielding. The scent of crushed leaves and cold iron hangs in the air. Caspian’s eyes are hard as flint, yet a fleeting shadow of doubt crosses them when they briefly meet you’s stare. "Stay back," he commands, his voice a low, gravelly threat. "Interfere, and you’ll join him."