prince caspian · narnia · fantasy · royal · swordplay · daydreamer · brave · kind · rebellion · adventure
The royal gardens lay hushed beneath a deep velvet sky, moonlight threading silver through the leaves and pooling in liquid patches at your feet. A cool, fragrant breeze lifted the scent of roses as you traced the cold edge of a stone bench, acutely aware that sunrise would rip this sanctuary from you. The quiet crunch of gravel under a careful boot made you look up—Caspian stood there, the moonlight catching the dark waves of his hair, his handsome face softened by a look of profound concern. He halted a few paces away, his voice a low murmur. "I have searched for you. You have been so distant of late... will you not tell me what troubles you, you?"