Chapter 37: Into the Forbidden Forest

The busy tavern, its air thick with the aroma of roasted meat and ale, buzzed with the chatter of travelers and locals alike. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the rough-hewn wooden tables and benches. It was hardly the setting Caspian would normally choose for a meal, but these weren’t normal circumstances, were they?

He adjusted his forest green cloak, the rough wool an unfamiliar weight on his shoulders, and discreetly tugged at the collar of his simple khaki tunic. Gone were the luxurious fabrics and tailored elegance of his princely attire, replaced by the unremarkable garb of a common traveler. He ran a hand through his hair, now a rich chestnut brown thanks to Sonne’s surprisingly effective dye, and secured it with a rubber band. It had grown a bit longer than he preferred, but it was a small price to pay for anonymity.

Across the table, Sonne was engaged in a similar act of transformation, albeit with considerably more theatricality. He’d slicked back his usually artfully tousled hair with water, the effect more comical than intended. Caspian had to stifle a laugh as Sonne peered at his reflection in a spoon, his brow furrowed in mock-seriousness.

Their meal arrived, a hearty spread of roasted chicken, steaming rice, and a medley of vegetables that smelled surprisingly delicious. Caspian, his stomach growling in anticipation, set aside his amusement and picked up his fork, surprised by the unfamiliar yet not entirely unpleasant feeling of hunger. He’d been so accustomed to the meticulously timed and exquisitely prepared meals of the Snowfall court that this…earthy simplicity…was a revelation.

"It’s him, I’m sure of it!" Sonne announced between mouthfuls of rice, his earlier theatricality replaced by a look of intense concentration. "It’s that Snowfall captain who was on our tail back then!"

Caspian’s mind flashed back to their harrowing escape from the border checkpoint, the image of the beautiful captain, his expression a mixture of fury and frustration, seared into his memory.

Of all the soldiers in Snowfall’s army, it had to be him, Caspian thought, suppressing a groan.

He recalled the way Sonne, had chosen that precise moment to launch into a particularly…enthusiastic…display of distraction, allowing Caspian to take down the Captain in one move.

"You kept…annoying him," Caspian said, spearing a succulent piece of chicken with his fork. "That’s what happened."

"Right, but a kidnapper?" Sonne scoffed, his voice laced with indignation. "As if I could do that to you. I don’t have that capability." He paused, his gaze meeting Caspian’s, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Besides," he added, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, "I think you would come willingly if I asked nicely."

Caspian felt his cheeks flush at the implication, a wave of warmth spreading through him. Perhaps he’s right, of course, he thought, a strange mixture of annoyance and…something else…fluttering in his chest. If Sonne had simply asked—

He pushed the thought away before it could fully form, his usual composure momentarily forgotten. He was a prince of Snowfall, trained from a young age to master his emotions, to present an unflappable facade to the world. Yet, here he was, reduced to a mess by a strawberry merchant with a charming smile and a knack for making him question everything he thought he knew about himself.

Caspian averted his gaze, focusing on his meal with a ferocity that belied his inner turmoil. Just eat your chicken, Caspian, he scolded himself. It’s not like he meant anything by it…

But even as he tried to convince himself of his own logic, a tiny, treacherous part of him whispered, What if he did?

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The crowded marketplace, a sensory symphony of sights, sounds, and aromas, bustled with activity as Caspian and Sonne moved through the throng of merchants and shoppers.

Sonne, seemingly unfazed by their fugitive status, navigated the crowded stalls with his usual easy confidence, his laughter ringing out as he bantered with the merchants in his uniquely charming way. Caspian couldn’t help but marvel at Sonne’s ability to find humor even in the most absurd of situations.

It’s no wonder he’s such a successful strawberry salesman, Caspian mused, watching as Sonne negotiated the price of a sack of oats with a toothless old woman, his smile as bright as the Eternal Summer sun. The man could charm the scales off a dragon.

They replenished their dwindling supplies—dried meat, fruit, fresh bread, and a surprisingly potent cheese that smelled strongly of…adventure—before stopping at a stall piled high with an assortment of toiletries and grooming supplies.

"Look at this, Cassy," Sonne said, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he held up a jar of clear gel. "Proper hair gel."

Caspian couldn’t help but chuckle. "You were that traumatized by your lack of styling products?" he teased, watching as Sonne meticulously examined the jar’s contents.

"A gentleman has his standards," Sonne retorted, his tone mock-serious. "Even when on the run from the law," he added in a whisper.

As Sonne rummaged through the stall’s offerings, his gaze fell upon a display of brightly colored hair ties. "Oh, look at this," he said, holding up a soft, satin scrunchie the color of amethyst. "This would look good on you."

Caspian’s breath hitched in his throat as Sonne casually held the scrunchie next to his hair, the gesture so…intimate…so…boyfriend-buying-a-gift-for-his-lover, that it sent a jolt of pure exhilaration through him.

Get a grip, Caspian, he scolded himself, his cheeks warming despite his best efforts to remain impassive. It’s just a hair tie. And he’s just…Sonne.

"I…I’m fine with my rubber band tie," Caspian mumbled, suddenly acutely aware of the way his hair felt against his neck, the weight of Sonne’s gaze upon him.

Sonne, seemingly oblivious to Caspian’s internal turmoil, merely shrugged, his smile widening as he added the scrunchie to their growing pile of purchases.

It’s nice to have a rich traveling sponsor, a cynical voice in Caspian’s head remarked.

But as Sonne caught his eye and subtly winked, warmth spreading through Caspian’s chest, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it was more than that.

The sun beat down on their backs as they made their way out of the village, the last vestiges of civilization fading into the distance. Ahead of them, a narrow path wound its way through a dense forest, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. This was it. The gateway to the Elven realm.

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As they ventured deeper into the forest, the path grew steeper, winding its way through a labyrinth of ancient trees and moss-covered boulders. The air grew cooler, the sunlight filtering through the dense canopy in dappled patterns that danced across the forest floor.

Caspian, his senses on high alert, scanned their surroundings for any sign of danger. He could feel the magic of the Elven realm thrumming beneath his feet, an ancient energy that whispered of forgotten lore and untold power.

This is it, Caspian thought, his heart pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs, a strange mixture of apprehension and excitement coursing through him. The gateway to the Elven Realm.

They had left the last vestiges of the human world behind hours ago, the crowded marketplace and its curious glances fading into distant memory. Now, surrounded by the ancient trees and the whispers of forgotten magic, Caspian couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, their every move scrutinized by unseen eyes.

Sonne, seemingly unfazed by the oppressive atmosphere, hummed a cheerful tune as he navigated the winding path, his usual confidence a reassuring presence in the unsettling stillness of the woods.

"You know, for a 'Forbidden Forest', it's not very…forbidden feeling," Sonne quipped, glancing back at Caspian with a playful glint in his eyes. "Where are the menacing thorns? The snarling beasts? The ominous warning signs?"

Caspian, despite his unease, couldn't help but smile at Sonne's attempt to lighten the mood. He's incorrigible, he thought, his heart warming at Sonne's easy charm, even when facing the unknown, he finds a way to make light of it.

"Perhaps the 'forbidden' part comes later," Caspian replied, his voice a low murmur in the stillness of the forest. "Best not to tempt fate."

They continued on in silence for a while, the only sounds the chirping of unseen birds and the rustle of leaves following the carriage. The path, barely discernible beneath a carpet of moss and fallen leaves, led them deeper into the heart of the forest.