Caspian awoke the second time to the clatter of utensils against wooden bowls and the muffling of voices. As his mind rose from the safe slumber, other senses regained function. He could smell hay and the scent of stew mixing in with smoke from the fire. There was a warm weight of arms and something pinning down his left shoulder. He had tangled his own arms around it, clutching the weight tight to feel the breath slowly slipping in and out of its lungs. Caspian slowly blinked open his eyes.

Evening must have fallen during his nap. The cave was lit by oil lamps and flickering torches that lit the outside of the pale red curtain from the outside with an orange glow. In the little bed nook carved into the wall, Caspian had just enough light to take in the features of the boy in bed with him. Ahren was still sleeping. Face relaxed and mouth slightly open as his breath dusted Caspian's collar bones with each exhale. Wavy brown hair hung around his eyes and cheekbones. His skin was still pale but with a slight golden sheen from hours outside. Through the material of their shirts Caspian could feel the weight of muscle. Ahren had grown. He was no longer the boy Caspian remembered. 

"Oh", he let out a soft breath. "It wasn't a dream".  The gust of air stirred a lock of hair and it tickled Ahren's nose. Caspian stared as the other boy frowned then stirred. There was a sleepy whine then big brown eyes were blinking at him blearily.

For a second Caspian held his breath as Ahren stared. The smaller was obviously still half asleep. A moment seemed to last an age. "You're warm", Ahren mumbled as he closed his eyes and nuzzled his head back into Caspian's shoulder.

"It's strange being bigger than you", Caspian hummed as he took the chance to run his fingers through the wavy strands. 

That seemed to wake Ahren up a bit more. He raised his head again. The light from the room made soft by the curtain smoothed over his face. "Caspian? Oh". His eyes widened and he blinked again, then smiled so wide his eyes crinkled. "I thought I dreamed you". He tightened his arms and squeezed the taller. "How long have you been awake?"

Caspian didn't know. "Not long".

Ahren began pulling away and the absence left the taller feeling cold. "Willa?" Ahren called as he pushed off the blankets and swung his legs out of bed. Caspian followed him and winced as the curtain was pushed back and the light of the room blinded him.

"Is there food?"

"Finally. I thought you two would sleep forever", it was the blonde satyr who spoke. Bree, Caspian recalled. The man was sat on a mat on the ground by the fire pit. His sister next to him and Willowbranch across the fire. The redhead was stirring a bubbling pot held over the flames. The smells of rabbit stew filling the air.

"You're just in time", the centaur chuckled. "Would you like some Caspian?" 

The prince stood up, wincing as his stomach rumbled in answer for him. He nodded and the satyr, still feeling strange at this new norm. A day ago he thought that narnians did not exist and his best friend was dead. Now he was standing next to a seventeen year old Ahren, grown and so different yet so much the same, and sharing a room with a centaur and two satyrs. Caspian would probably be much more scared and uncertain if he wasn't still emotionally exhausted from crying into the other boy's shoulder. 

 Ahren was moving to take a seat on one of the benches surrounding the hearth. Caspian jerked and stumbled to follow him, limbs uncharacteristically uncoordinated and lacking his trained grace. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he sat down at Ahren's side. Their legs touching and part of Caspian was afraid that if they weren't touching the wavy haired boy would disappear. But Ahren didn't move away so maybe he felt the same. 

Ahren took a bowl offered by the male satyr and handed it over. Caspian cradled the warmth and let it settle some of his nerves. "Bree", Ahren gestured at the Satyr. "I already told you but might as well make introductions. Caspian. Bree. Summer. Willa, or Willowbranch". 

Caspian closed his mouth and nodded his head. "I am prince Caspian the tenth. Pleasure to meet you". 

Summer laughed. "He's so telmarine. I thought he would be like the guy from your stories Wren. The same kid who cried if he didn't get to be high king Peter every time you sparred". The recollection caused Caspian's cheeks to heat. Bree sniggered and Ahren just sighed. 

"I was a very good high king Peter", the prince shrugged as he let the tension fall from his shoulders. He didn't need to be afraid of them. His smiled grew across his lips, genuine and more him than he had felt in years. "You should have seen Ahren however. He lost every sparring match. Once he tried to pick up Othello's sword and when he dropped it, it knocked over the bucket of water the maids were using to scrub the floors. Which he then promptly slipped on and got soaked. Othello was not pleased". 

Summer and Bree burst out laughing as Ahren concentrated on his bowl of stew. His face pink and so cute that Caspian found himself letting out a chuckle. The sensation made him pause. He had not felt so light in a while. It must be the left over giddiness of their reunion. Merely having Ahren, living, breathing, at his side was mind spinning. 

"Oh our Wren is so clumsy", Bree sniggered as he shot Ahren a mischievous look. "When he first came here he was tripping over everything. We had to carry him up over the rocks every time we entered the wester part of the forest for months. Least he fall and injure himself further. Every time we turned our backs it was like he got into trouble". 

"Oh yes. We turn our backs once and he's in the river. Next time he's hanging upside down from a branch, the next he's fallen down a ditch. It was like looking after a newborn kid". Summer's words were a mixture of fond exasperation and teasing jabs. 

"Hey. The branch thing was cause Bree was encouraging me", Ahren accused. 

"And you all got told off when the action tore your stitches and you had to be put on bed rest for two days", Willowbranch voiced with a motherly tone of authority. Caspian could hear the love and amusement in her words and for a second it made him miss his own mother. His mother who had started his friendship with Ahren before she died. Almost like she leaving him a last gift. 

"Stitches", he asked. 

Ahren grimaced around his mouthful of food. Caspian remembered his own bowl and began eating. The stew was nice and held more flavours than what was served in the castle. He wondered if it was due to the difference of seasonings. Surely there was more varieties of herbs in the forest. 

"My shoulder. The arrow wound took a long time to heal". The reminder of how he had ended up in the care of the little family of narnian's was sobering. 

"How long?" Caspian felt sick at the thought of Ahren from his memories being injured and almost dying. The seven year old had been bigger than him, protective. So it was unsettling to try and picture him as weak and vulnerable as had been described 

"It's not important", Ahren gave him a small smile. 

Caspian's frown deepened. "No", he stated with all the authority of his birth. "It is. It is my uncle who ordered your death, my death too. Therefore I must know his crimes. Especially those against you". 

Ahren opened and closed his mouth a few times, eyes wide at the sudden firmness to Caspian's tone. Whatever jovial mood in the room plummeting as the severity of their situation spread back over them. It was Willowbranch who spoke up. The centaur seated between the two benches. Her horse legs folded underneath her and her bowl in one hand. She was watching Caspian with a evaluating expression, seemingly waiting for his reaction. 

"He was feverish and unconscious for two days after Bree brought him to us. The wound had gotten infected and he was weak. We thought it might kill him. But he managed to pull through. The next month was spent battling the infection until he get up and move around. Still, he was weaker than he should have been. The stitches came out after four weeks. Still, it took another month at least for him to regain his strength and energy. That was in part due to the nightmares, the terrors that plagued him". 

"Willa!" Ahren interrupted, voice echoing off the stone walls. He had stood up, one hand placing his half eaten stew on the bench as he glared at the centaur. "You don't need to tell him that". 

Willowbranch met his stare. "Why not? This is your prince, the Caspian you speak so often about. He should know exactly how his uncle hurt you". Her gaze softened and she sighed gently. "My little Wren. This does not make you weak. This makes you strong. He should also know how strong you were, how you fought to survive. If he is half the person you told us about then he needs to know". 

Caspian felt strangely honoured that someone who was so visibly important and protective of Ahren was testing him in such a way. He was used to people testing him and before it had always felt like invisible hurdles he had to get over to please the old men of the court and his uncle. To prove that he was what he was born to be. This test was not about his birthright but about Ahren and he wanted to prove himself so desperately. He had only just gotten Ahren back. His friendship with Ahren was never about their titles, but for them. It had been something that was just for Caspian, not for Caspian the Tenth, Crown prince to Telmar. He was glad that Willa was telling him this. He wanted to know. 

Ahren let out a long breath of air. "Fine. But I don't want to hear it". Then he was turning heel and striding towards his bed. Caspian watching as he tugged on his boots and cloak before disappearing down the tunnel that must lead to the cave entrance. 

"Let him cool down", Bree offered. "He never likes talking about that night and I think going over it so much upset him". 

"He has a bad habit of running away to cry", Summer added. "Go find him when you've finished your food". 

"Stay", Willowbranch commanded. Her tone offering no arguments. "We need to talk about what you being here means to us your highness. And why you were carrying this". From the small satchel hanging over her shoulder, she brought out a familiar carved horn. The light of the fire flinging off the roaring lion's head. Caspian felt his breath catch. 

unedited 

I love the two of them together as (almost) adults already. Caspian is like "I've had Ahren back for a day and I will kill everyone in this room and then myself if anything happens to him"  vibes.