Chapter Six – The March

//Cause sometimes that mountain you've been climbing
is just a grain of sand//

That evening as twilight fell over the clearing where the army had set up camp for the night, Buffy found herself walking away from the main group towards the reverberation of the river that she could hear in the vicinity. She just required some time away from her ‘charges’, as they had – for the most part – been driving her insane all day.

It started off not long after they had begun walking towards where Caspian said he and his followers had set up a headquarters, at most two days walk from where they were when the sword play had taken place. She was approached rather quietly by Susan, asking her about what her interest was in a certain good-looking Prince. She spent what seemed like forever convincing the High Queen that she had no fascination for Caspian other than him being their leader and commenting – succinctly – on his looks, guaranteeing Susan that he was not her type.

Peter was just about as badly behaved, when he wasn’t staring angrily at or in disagreement with Caspian – in some sort of juvenile competition – he was staring at her. Hurt and betrayal flashing in his blue eyes whenever his eyes  happened to accidentally meet her own, making her tremendously uncomfortable and feeling a little guilt-ridden – for what for she wasn’t quite sure.

Lucy had engaged her for the rest of the day, introducing her to the Narnians and forcing her to talk to Reepicheep and his men about their swordsmanship. There was also the actuality that she had not let her out of her sight for more than a minute, which of course caused some awkwardness when she had made an attempt to go to the bathroom earlier.

So far the only Pevensie who was not gradually deteriorating her mental capacity was Edmund and that was because he didn’t seem to be concerned one way or another about her. He was mostly apprehensive – and accurately so – with what was going to happen next. Due to this he had spent the entire day walking with the Centaurs and discussing their perception on war and strategising with them.

She was more or less there when she realised just how to a great extent this walk had all ready done for her, allowing her to disentangle her mind and just chill out her spirit. At least until she remembered that she would in due course have to return to the camp and walk for at least another day – or longer if Peter and Caspian could not agree on the route to take again – to the army’s headquarters.

Arriving at the water's edge she saw that somebody else had taken the same opportunity that she had and that the section of bank was already occupied by the young Prince. Not wanting to interrupt, what must be an infrequent peaceable moment for him, she went to walk away.

“Please...” he said without even opening his eyes. “You do not have to leave.”

“I don’t want to put you out...”

“Unless you are the High King making a female tone of voice... you are welcome.”

Buffy moved in closer, but not too close as she did not want to start the elder two Pevensies off again. “Is Peter driving you insane, too?”

Caspian opened his eyes and looked at his fellow traveller for the first time, “He is continuously countermanding my decisions. Making me feel as though I am insignificant and in no way ready to be a King. Maybe he is right? What knowledge do I have?”

“First off all never say that again-“

“Say what?”

“That Peter is right,” she told him. “What privileges and experience does he have to tell you these things?”

“He was High King for many years.”

“And before that?”

Caspian shook his head, “I do not think that he had much - Just the battle against the White Witch.”

“So... essentially when you become King, you will have a similar encounter as he did. Therefore the same amount of experience...”

“I suppose you are correct,” he replied frowning. Suddenly he stood up and said, “I bid you-“

Buffy could perceive the sound of the whir of displaced air the instant it started. As it came within reach of them her slayer reflexes kicked in, her right hand flew upwards and caught the arrow before it could get anywhere near its premeditated target, the Prince. From the direction of the camp, she could hear a quantity of the Centaurs give chase after the shooter and breathed a sigh of reprieve.

“Y-you saved my life,” he whispered staring at her. “How did you do that?”

“Would you believe I have good reflexes?”

“No.”

“A lucky catch?”

“No.”

“Confession time?”

“I think that would be the wisest course of action.”

Buffy sat down by the water and Caspian immediately followed suit. “Where do I even start off?”

He smiled at her hesitantly, “I find the beginning is always best.”

She sighed, “Well... it started off with a feeling...”

When it was all over she had to acknowledge that she felt a lot healthier after telling Caspian who she in actuality was. He had promised to keep her secret, but had unsurprisingly advocated to her that she unburden her heart to the others before something caused them to ascertain it on their own, but she could not bring herself to do so – too many years of being a hidden warrior.

Besides she was in a way getting to for the time being, live out a trivial flight of the imagination she’d had since she had been called as the Slayer - she was getting to be a ordinary girl again. Although she now had to acknowledge that it wasn’t precisely the way she remembered it and most times she really just wanted to overlook the normal crap and use her super powers – she was much more contented that way.

After they had finished talking, Caspian had returned to the camp, but Buffy had remained seated by the river, just watching it ebb and flow. Taking pleasure in the tranquillity and stillness, she just let herself loosen up and wish that she could just spend the night out there alone, but she couldn’t not without them sending out a search party for her.

A branch snapped in close proximity, but she wasn’t concerned, she could all ready tell it was Peter and she looked up in his direction as he came close to her. She sighed as he sat down next to her and wondered why he was out there with her.

“We need to talk,” he said without warning.

She raised her eyebrows at him, “We do?”

“You know...” he began. “You can’t just kiss-“

“Point of order, Pevensie – technically we didn’t kiss.”

“Me,” he continued on taking no notice of her observation. “And then all of a sudden disregard me to chase after *him*.”

Buffy couldn’t disguise her smirk at his preposterous declaration. “Chasing after Caspian? Don’t be so brainless.”

“You said *very* loudly that you thought he was cute.”

“So what? I think lots of guys are cute, but I don’t date them all. Sometimes it just straightforward admiration...”

“But you and he were here... *together*.”

“Talking.”

“Talking?”

“You know, you open your mouth and sounds come out. Kind of like what we are doing now...”

Peter smiled, “So just talking?”

“What have I just been saying?” she yelled frustrated as hell at him. “Why am I even explaining it to you?”

She went to stand up and march off in righteous anger, but instead he pulled her back down and she unexpectedly found herself more or less in his lap, his lips fusing with her own. Her brain went blank, gone was her irritation, her thoughts of home and the people there – in fact all she could do was feel him against her and the sensation of his lips on hers.

“Why did you...” she asked when they ultimately broke apart.

“Not so technical anymore, is it?” he replied. “Besides, I think you know by now that I care about you.”

She stood up and moved out of his reach, turning her back on him. “You don’t know me, Peter. And if you did, I don’t think you’d like me.”

He got up and came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t imagine that anything would make me change my feelings towards you.”

She pulled away, “When the time comes... I hope you remember that.”

Buffy walked away back towards the camp as swiftly as she dared go, refusing to accept the temptation to look back at him or to speculate what might be going through his head. What she planned to do was to stay away from him and his family for a couple of days so that once again they could all see reason and start to behave rationally once again.

For the remainder of the evening she stayed away from the Pevensies the best that she could, but between Lucy’s spur-of-the-moment hugging bouts and Peter’s vigilant eyes, she could not truthfully escape them. She was getting more exasperated by the second and knew that if she did not find something to do soon, they would invite her over to sit with them and she would have no excuse not to.

That was when she spotted the gathering of Minotaurs that sat by a fire, steering clear of mixing with the other races of Narnians. Inquisitiveness got the better of her and she went over to them and sat down, without waiting for an invite. They simply ignored her attendance and when she asked them any questions, but she wasn’t about to go away – as she had been told on more than one occasion she was reasonably imaginative.

She poked the closest one to her and asked him if he was any good in battle, when she elicited no more than a grunt in reaction she hit his arm and continued to do such until he answered her. It set the tone for the next hour or so until they all realised the irritating ‘Daughter of Eve’ was not about to leave them in silence, that was when they answered her questions with the bare minimum of response.

Not dissuaded she wheedled and provoked until she had them going in what some would consider enthusiastic conversation for the race. Once they had semi-accepted her and regaled her stories of battles fought and won over many generations, they asked her if she had any to tell – to some extent over-confident that the slip of a girl would have nothing to contribute.

To say the least she stunned the strongly built Minotaurs, never in their wildest imaginations could they have speculated that she – a human so delicate in stature - knew such things. Some of them would say that she was making it all up, but the battle fatigued of the group knew that only someone who have lived through and experienced those things could so truthfully portray them. Their dialogue went on and all participants were ignorant that someone else was listening with enthusiastic interest, in particular to the things concerning Buffy.

The Pevensie children were at a fire of their own, even though not all of them were conscious. Edmund and Peter had relatively effortlessly fallen into a deep sleep, leaving Susan and Lucy to entertain the Prince; which they had done until he too had decided that he needed to have a rest – much to Susan’s disappointment. So when Trumpkin in due course returned from wherever he had been, the two girls were more than pleased to see him.

The dwarf had not been sat down for more than a minute before he started to grumble. “She’s a strange one, she is.”

“Who?” Lucy asked her DLF confused.

Trumpkin sulked, “That girl.”

“Buffy?” Susan suggested speculating what the blonde had done to increase the dwarf’s indignation – yet again.

“Why do you think she’s strange?” Lucy asked him inquisitively. “I think she’s great.”

Trumpkin just looked affronted, “First she wanted to kill me...”

“She said it was a joke,” Susan reminded him.

“Then she shot the arrow at the bear – flawlessly.”

Lucy joined in, “And saved my life.”

“Now she’s over there with the Minotaurs. Talking about people she’s beheaded and other ways she’s killed,” Trumpkin finished.

“Are you sure that is what you heard?” Susan questioned with scepticism unmistakable in her voice.

“My hearing is perfect.”

Lucy just shook her head at him, “I think you got it wrong...”

Dismayed by their disbelief, Trumpkin merely lay down and closed his eyes, preferring to pretend to sleep than listen to the girls tell him he was being preposterous. He knew what he had heard and one way or another he was going to make sure that *she* did not have a chance to hurt the Kings and Queens.

Lucy and Susan kept on chatting unacquainted that once again Peter was eavesdropping instead of sleeping. He was struck by what Trumpkin had been telling the girls about Buffy, it in point of fact made more sense to him than some of the things that had been coming out her in the way of rationalizations. ‘You don’t know me, Peter. And if you did, I don’t think you’d like me,’ those words she had thrown at him earlier reverberated through his head, keeping him from going back to sleep. So he lay there wondering just what her secret was and how he was going to uncover it.

End Part

Lyrics:

Carrie Underwood – So Small

Author’s Note:

Thanks to all the reviewers. Sorry if I haven’t got back to you, but I have a backlog of work and emails to get through and I chose to get this part out before doing it – What can I say I am a Procrastinator....