As August led him out of the room into the cool, open air, she mentally rehearsed the words she needed to say.

Her thoughts raced, but she knew she had to be calm for him.

They came to a stop in the heart of the woods, the canopy above casting soft shadows across their faces.

She turned to face him, her expression gentle but firm.

“August, I—”

She placed a finger against his lips, silencing him softly.

“Relax,” she said, her voice a quiet command. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

Caspian nodded slowly, sitting beside her in the grass.
He leaned into her, their backs pressed against the strong, ancient bark of an oak tree that seemed to anchor them in the moment.

A few moments of silence passed, the tension between them heavy but unspoken.

Finally, August asked, her voice barely above a whisper, “Now, explain. Briefly—what happened last night?”

Caspian exhaled deeply, the weight of the past hours pressing down on him.
“Last night, when I found my professor… he told me not to underestimate Miraz, like my father did.”

August furrowed her brow, concern flooding her expression.
She took his hands in hers, leaning in closer, silently urging him to continue.

“So I ran to Miraz’s chamber,” he continued, his voice cracking, “I held my sword at his neck… and he—he said he killed my father.”

The words came out broken, like shattered glass, sharp with pain.
A lump rose in his throat, thick and suffocating, threatening to choke him.

August said nothing but cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing softly, steadily, over his cheeks.

She offered no words, only the comfort of her touch.

Caspian held onto her hands, pressing them to his face as if they were the only thing keeping him grounded.

His tears welled up, dangerously close to spilling over, and when August’s eyes began to water too, she knew his strength had reached its limit.

“He killed his own brother, August,” Caspian’s voice was hoarse, filled with a pain that seemed bottomless. “He killed my father! God knows if he killed my mother too! And now… now I’m starting to think maybe I deserve it.”

August’s heart shattered at his words, breaking into a million pieces.

Seeing him like this—so vulnerable, so broken—cut her deeper than any blade.

That was when he finally broke.

He collapsed against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck as heavy sobs tore through him.

August held him, her fingers threading through his hair as tears slid silently down her own cheeks.

Caspian’s shoulders shook violently, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he tried to hold himself together. The weight of everything—the war, his family’s death, the guilt—pressed down on him, and it all finally broke loose.

“I failed them,” he whispered, voice breaking. “My father... my mother. I let him live. Miraz—he took everything.”

August’s heart pounded in her chest, her hands gripping his trembling ones.

Her pulse quickened, but not with fear—no, it was the anger building inside her, simmering just below the surface.

Every word out of Caspian’s mouth added fuel to the fire.

“This isn’t your fault,” she said, her voice sharp, low with anger. “Miraz... he’s the one who did this. He’s the one who deserves to suffer. Not you.”

Her fists clenched as she stood up, pacing in front of him.

She could feel her anger bubbling over now, and it was uncontrollable.

Everything Caspian had suffered—everything that was lost—it made her want to tear the world apart.

“If I ever get the chance...” she growled, the words dripping with venom. “If I can get my hands on him, I swear I’ll make him pay for every life he’s taken. He deserves nothing less.”

Her breath came hard and fast, her entire body trembling with rage.

Caspian looked up at her, his grief-laden eyes wide. He could see the storm in her—the same storm that had been brewing inside him for so long.

“August...” he began, his voice soft and broken. “You don’t have to...”

She spun around to face him, her eyes blazing. “I will, Caspian. I’ll make sure of it. You shouldn’t carry this alone. He hurt you—he hurt all of us. And that means it’s on me too.”

Caspian’s hand reached out, catching her wrist as she paced.

He gently pulled her back toward him, his touch grounding her fury. “I know you want to stop him,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “but I can’t lose you to this rage.”

August paused, her chest heaving with the remnants of her anger, and her gaze softened as she looked into his eyes.

He was broken, shattered by everything Miraz had done—but there was something else there, something that made her heart clench.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice now trembling with something other than rage. “You won’t lose me. I won’t let him take anything more from us.”

Caspian's hand tightened around hers as he exhaled shakily, his eyes glistening.
“You’ve always been strong,” he said softly, a note of admiration in his voice.
“But you don’t have to carry this alone. I don’t want you consumed by the same darkness I’ve fought so hard against.”

She kneeled down beside him, her fiery resolve still simmering but softened by the compassion she felt for him.

“I’m not letting this rage control me,” she said, her tone softer now but still full of determination. “I’m just... I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this. I can’t stand what Miraz has done to you.”

Caspian looked into her eyes, his voice still fragile as he spoke, “I don’t want to see you lost in it. You’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart right now.”

August’s heart swelled at his words, the tension in the air between them shifting. She took his face in her hands, her thumb gently brushing against his cheek, and leaned in close.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her voice full of reassurance. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Caspian’s breath hitched at her words. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, something inside him began to loosen.

His grief was still there, but now it was accompanied by a deep sense of relief—a belief that maybe, just maybe, they could face this together.

And then, as if drawn together by an unseen force, August closed the small gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that held every ounce of their shared pain, anger, and hope.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, tender, filled with the unspoken promise that they would stand together, no matter what came next.

Caspian responded, his hands sliding up her arms, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, but there was no urgency—only a shared understanding that this was their moment, their anchor in the storm.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, breathless but steady.

Caspian’s gaze met hers, still filled with all the sadness, but now there was something more—hope.

“You don’t have to say anything,” August whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair. “We’ll face it together. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”

Caspian nodded, his hand still clutching hers. There were no words left—just the quiet, steady promise that they would face the darkness side by side.

The weight of what had been said, felt, and shared lingered between them, yet the world around them did not pause.

Caspian pulled her closer into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

“I don’t know if I can be what they need,” Caspian murmured, his voice thick with uncertainty.

August pulled back slightly, enough to meet his eyes. Her brow furrowed in disbelief as she looked at him, shaking her head gently.

“You already are,” she replied softly. “You’ve been fighting for them, for your people. You’ve already proved that you’re the leader they need. Even when you don’t feel it, you are.”

Caspian’s gaze faltered, his hands tightening their grip on her waist. “But what if I fail them again?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

His vulnerability was raw, something that had been hidden beneath the weight of his responsibilities.

August cupped his face, her thumbs brushing along his cheekbones, her voice steady. “You won’t,” she said with conviction. “Not alone. You have us. You have me. And no matter what happens, you will not be alone in this. I promise.”

For a moment, Caspian looked into her eyes, finding an unwavering strength there that he so desperately needed.

It was that strength that had drawn him to her—the fire within her that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of everything they had lost. He exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing from his body.

“I don’t deserve you,” Caspian whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

August smiled faintly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a soft, knowing smile. “You don’t get to decide that,” she teased lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, remember?”

Caspian couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath, the smallest hint of warmth finding its way back into his chest.

For a moment, the storm inside him felt more bearable, more manageable with her by his side.

                               ~~~•~~~

As August sat around the bonfire with Edmund, Lucy, and Susan, a faint smile lingered on her lips, her mind drifting from the crackling flames.

The warmth of the fire felt like nothing compared to the warmth that still tingled through her from the events just an hour ago.

Absentmindedly, her fingers brushed over her lips, replaying the moment over and over in her head.

Caspian's kiss had left a mark deeper than she was willing to admit, but the heaviness in the air—the tension from the recent confrontation with Miraz—loomed over her like a storm cloud.

Her quiet reverie hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Edmund, always sharp, noticed her dreamy expression first.

He smirked, nudging Susan with his elbow, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Look who’s in another world,” he whispered. “Bet I can guess where—or who—she’s thinking about.”

Susan followed his gaze, her lips curving into a sly grin as she saw August’s distant look and her fingers unconsciously touching her lips.

She leaned forward, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, I think we all know exactly who she’s imagining. She might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘I’ve been kissed by Caspian.’”

Lucy, sitting across from them, caught on quickly. “Is it Caspian again, August?” she asked, her voice bright and teasing but with genuine curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

August blinked, jolted out of her thoughts, her hand freezing midair as she realized she’d been caught.

Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she quickly dropped her hand, trying to regain some sense of composure. “What? No, I wasn’t—” she stammered, though her heart was racing, and her smile threatened to betray her.

Edmund’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, come on, August. You’ve been touching your lips like you’re reliving every second. Pretty sure it wasn’t our delicious snack you were thinking about.”

Susan chuckled, leaning back, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Just an hour ago, huh? Must’ve been something very memorable,” she added with a wink.

August groaned, her face burning with embarrassment as she buried it in her hands.

The chaos of the battle with Miraz and Caspian's raw emotions still swirled in her mind, but the kiss felt like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

“Oh, for Aslan’s sake! Seriously, you guys!”

Lucy shuffled closer, her voice lowering to a gleeful whisper. “Did he kiss you?” Her excitement was infectious, her wide eyes glittering with curiosity. “Oh, I bet he kissed you!”

August, cheeks now blazing, peeked out from between her fingers, shooting Lucy a helpless look. “Maybe,” she muttered under her breath, hoping they wouldn’t press further.

But Edmund’s grin only widened. “Oh, no details needed,” he teased. “Your face says it all. The dreamy look, the blushing—Caspian’s been on your mind all night.”

Susan joined in, but her tone softened, her teasing replaced by affection. “We’re just teasing, August,” she said, her voice warm as she leaned forward. “But honestly, I’m happy for you. You deserve it—you deserve someone who sees how wonderful you are.”

August’s embarrassment melted at Susan’s words, her heart warming with gratitude.

She glanced at the three of them, these people she had grown to love like family, and she smiled despite herself.

“Thanks, Su,” she whispered, feeling a lump form in her throat. “But seriously, enough with the teasing. If you keep this up, I swear, I’ll throw you all into the bonfire.”

Edmund raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin never faltered. “Alright, alright. No more teasing—tonight.”

Lucy giggled, leaning into August’s shoulder. “We’re just happy for you,” she repeated, her voice soft. “It’s about time you had something to smile about.”

As the fire crackled on, the warmth of their laughter and light teasing settled into a comfortable silence.

August leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the night air brush against her skin.

Even though her heart still fluttered from the kiss, the tension of the battle loomed in her mind, reminding her of the fragile nature of their victory.

Yet, despite the chaos surrounding them, she couldn’t help but think that maybe this—this teasing, this love, this friendship—was exactly what she’d needed.

But at the moment, there was one more thing.

                          ~~~•~~~

Later, August found Peter standing silently in front of Aslan’s carving in the tomb room, his gaze distant as if lost in thought.

He leaned against the ancient stone table, the weight of leadership clearly heavy on his shoulders.

Quietly, she approached and decided to lean against the same table, her presence subtle but comforting.

That’s when Peter finally noticed her.

His eyes softened, and with a small smile, he reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear. “You look different, August. Almost... delighted, all of a sudden.”

Her heart fluttered at the unexpected gesture.

She reached up to take his hand, pulling it down from her hair, tracing small patterns on his palm without meeting his gaze.

“Peter,” she began, her voice steady but laced with concern, “I know this fight against Miraz is weighing on you. You’re feeling the burden of being a leader, and that’s okay. But you can’t forget who you are. You’re brave, strong, and you’ve fought for this land before. You have the heart of a king, and you inspire others.”

Peter’s gaze remained steady on her. “I’m not sure it’s enough,” he admitted, his voice laced with doubt. “What if I fail? What if I lead us into another defeat?”

August squeezed his hand, her eyes searching his. “Listen to me. You’re not alone in this. You have us, your family. We believe in you, even when you doubt yourself. Miraz may be powerful, but he doesn’t have what you have—our loyalty, our unity, and the love of our people. You have the strength to lead us, Peter.”

Her words hung in the air, their sincerity wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

Peter exhaled slowly, the weight on his shoulders seeming to lighten just a fraction. “What if I let you all down?” he asked, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

“Then we’ll rise together, as we always do,” August replied, her voice firm. “You’ve faced challenges before, and you’ve emerged stronger every time. Remember when you stood against the White Witch? You fought with everything we had because you believed in a better Narnia. And we can do it again.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing her words.

August took a step closer, looking him in the eyes. “Don’t forget that we’re in this together. We’ll fight side by side against Miraz, just like we always have. I believe in you, Peter. You have to believe in yourself too.”

Peter searched her gaze, the flicker of hope igniting within him. “Thank you, August. I really needed to hear that,” he said, his voice steady now, filled with renewed determination.

“And,” she added with a playful grin, “if you need a little extra motivation, just remember—I’m waiting for the moment you take down Miraz so you can give me another reason to smile.”

The corner of Peter’s mouth turned up in a genuine smile, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Alright, then. I’ll give it my all, for Narnia and for you.”

As they stood together in the dim light, August felt a surge of hope.

Maybe this was what they needed—each other’s strength, laughter, and determination to face whatever lay ahead.

With the warmth of their friendship surrounding them, they were ready to stand against the darkness.

“You spoke to Caspian?” His tone was light, but the question had an underlying curiosity. He was clearly referring to how she had dragged Caspian out of the room earlier that evening.

At just the mention of Caspian’s name, August felt heat rising to her cheeks.

She could feel the blush creeping up and had to will herself not to fidget. “Yes... I did,” she managed, keeping her voice steady, though her eyes remained downcast, avoiding Peter’s all-too-knowing look.

Peter tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing as he took in her strange behavior. “Everything fine?” he asked, sensing something unsaid.

August opened her mouth to respond but found herself stammering. “Umm, uh…”

“Oh, August! There you are!” Lucy’s voice rang through the room, cutting through the awkward moment.
She bounced in with her usual burst of energy, eyes sparkling. “I was looking for Peter to tell him what happened! But I guess you already did!”

Peter raised an eyebrow, now even more curious. “Tell me what?”

August’s blush deepened, and Lucy quickly realized her mistake, her excitement causing her to trip over her words. “Wait—you didn’t tell him? I-I’ll tell him! I’ll tell him!”

Just then, Caspian entered the room, saving August from further embarrassment. “Peter, you’re called for dinner,” he said, his voice calm but firm. However, his eyes lingered on August a little too long.

It was brief but enough to make her blush even harder, her cheeks now matching the color of her flaming red hair.

The room felt impossibly smaller with him standing there, and she couldn’t help but avert her gaze.

Peter, clearly noticing, glanced between the two but said nothing as he led the way to the dining table.

Once seated with the other Pevensies, Peter’s curiosity resurfaced. “So, what’s this thing that happened with August?” he asked, looking between his siblings and August, clearly still in the dark.

Edmund exchanged a mischievous glance with Susan, smirking. “Oh, haven’t you heard?” he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Our dearest August had her first kiss.”

August immediately buried her face in her hands, groaning internally.

Lucy, meanwhile, tried to hold back her giggles, though it was a losing battle.

Peter looked utterly dumbfounded. “What! Who?”

Edmund leaned in, enjoying the moment far too much. “Who do you think, dumbass?”

Peter blinked, then his eyes widened as realization dawned.

His gaze flickered between August and Caspian, who was sitting quietly at the other end of the table, unaware of the things taking place at this end.

A slow grin spread across Peter’s face.

“Well, well,” Peter said, leaning back in his chair, clearly relishing the new information. “Looks like our little August is growing up.”

August peeked through her fingers, mortified. “I swear, if you keep teasing,-"

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, come on! It’s not every day your best friend gets her first kiss! Besides, you can’t blame a guy for being curious about who gets to steal the heart of our fierce warrior.”

August rolled her eyes, still hiding her face. “It wasn’t like that!”

“Wasn’t it?” Peter pressed, leaning in closer with a cheeky grin. “I mean, I thought you were practically swooning. Did Caspian sweep you off your feet, or did you just trip over your own awkwardness?”

August groaned, but a smile broke through despite herself. “You’re the worst!”

Peter raised an eyebrow, enjoying himself far too much. “Oh, please! This is golden! You have to admit, it’s kind of cute. You should have seen your face. It was like a tomato! And you, with your fierce personality, acting all shy. It’s a new side of you!”

August glanced at him, her expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Just wait until I have my next ‘moment’ with you, Peter. You won’t be laughing then.”

“But that’s the thing,” he countered, leaning back in his chair. “You can’t do that! I’m going to be expecting more of this shy, lovestruck August. You’ve set a precedent now.”

Suddenly, the sound of laughter erupted from Edmund, snapping her back to the present. “But you still owe us the juicy details of that kiss later, right?” he teased, winking at her.

August groaned again, laughter bubbling up despite her embarrassment. “As if I’d ever give you that!”

But deep down, she couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this moment—filled with laughter, teasing, and unbreakable bonds—was just as important as any kiss.