Chapter Twelve: The Army Arrives:

//Tell me is it real,
If it ain’t hurting//

The next morning Peter was even now sulking over Edmund’s little arrangement and his humiliating, public defeat. Buffy – as well as his siblings and Caspian – had attempted to get through to him, but he was an obstinate King of Old. Deciding to give it one final try before she was forced to use violence and beat his head in, she tracked him down and found him in the stone table room, sitting on the broken stone and staring at the carving of Aslan.

“Are you still upset?” she asked as she sat down beside him on the cold stone.

“No… maybe a little,” he replied absent-mindedly. They sat in silence for a few minutes when out of nowhere he asked, “Have you ever seen him?”

“Who?”

“Aslan.”

“No,” she answered shaking her head. “I was sent here at his request, but through… I guess you could call them messengers…”

“Why doesn’t he come? We need his help.”

“I don’t know… maybe it’s like Lucy said, we need to find him. To show him something…”

He turned his head to look at her and leaned in close, fusing his lips with his own in an unforeseen kiss. They were so involved with each other that they did not even perceive that Lucy and Edmund had entered the room or that they were staring at them, to some extent disgusted at the behaviour of the teenagers.

“Pete, Buffy… you had both better come quickly,” Edmund said disrupting them. “And could you please stop that before you scar Lu and me for life. It was bad enough seeing Su and Caspian at earlier.”

“What did he say?” Peter muttered as they broke apart.

“Nothing.”

She got up and dragged him off after Lucy and Edmund and they ended up on the outside of the How. They joined them, as well as Susan, Caspian, Trumpkin and the Professor out there. In the distance they could all unmistakably see the Telmarine army was approaching, led my Miraz who was wearing full body armour that shined in the sunlight.

Buffy surveyed the approaching army, took note of how many there were and their weaponry. She swallowed nervously, “This is not good.”

Less than ten minutes later, every person who needed to be there was at another meeting in the stone table room. Peter was standing in the midpoint of the room and was outlining his plan to send Lucy off into the forest to find Aslan.

Trumpkin did not approve and let everyone know it. “Cakes and kettledrums! That’s your next big plan? Sending a little girl alone into the darkest parts of the forest, alone?”

“It’s our only chance,” Peter argued, staring at Trumpkin.

“And she won’t be alone,” Susan added while she avoided the stare of the Prince.

“Haven’t enough of us died already?”

“Trumpkin,” Buffy said placing a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “None of us have a better idea and if Aslan can turn the tide of this fight – save us or at least help – we need to try.”

“Fine,” he grumbled pulling away from her and walking over to Lucy. “Then I’m going with you.”

Lucy smiled at her DLF, “No… we need you here.”

Peter sighed, “We have to find a way to hold them off until Lucy and Susan can get back.”

Caspian – still staring at Susan – stepped forward, “If I may…”

When everyone in the room turned their attention to him, he continued, “Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer. But as King, he is subject to the traditions and the expectations of his people. There is one in particular that may by us some time…”

“It should be me,” Caspian argued.

The room had cleared out leaving the Pevensies, Caspian, Trumpkin and Buffy in the stone table room, to hammer out who would put forward the challenge to Miraz. Or in Buffy’s estimation, who was dim-witted enough to die before the battle had even started.

“No,” Susan objected.

“Su’s right,” Peter added. “Caspian, you are too important to be sacrificed in this way.”

Edmund volunteered, “I’ll do it.”

Lucy hit him in the arm, “No… you won’t.”

“I’ll do it,” Buffy said - she didn’t want too, but she was the best choice out of the candidates.

“No way,” Peter told her. “You are not going to get yourself killed over this.”

“Besides,” Caspian added. “Miraz would never accept a challenge from a woman. He considers them beneath him – in more ways than one.”

Peter nodded, “That leaves only one… me. I shall put forward the challenge.”

“This is not a good idea,” Buffy told Peter for the fiftieth time as he, Edmund and Caspian leaned over the table working on their precious challenge document.

Since she was still being ignored, she contented herself with glaring at their backs. It was a stupid, macho idea and that was why Peter loved it. When Peter had volunteered himself and proclaimed that he was the only viable candidate, she had almost thumped him. How the hell was she supposed to figure out how she felt about him if he went and got himself killed?

“I think it’s done,” Peter said suddenly.

Caspian nodded, “It does sound effective.”

“How are we supposed to deliver it?” Edmund asked logically.

The two older boys exchanged looks before Caspian spoke, “Edmund should deliver it. As a King of Narnia, he should command the respect needed… at least in theory.”

“I’ll go,” Edmund agreed.

“I’ll go too,” Buffy added.

Peter turned to face her, “No… you won’t.”

“Don’t let this be personal, Peter,” she replied. “Ed will need backup and we both know I am the best one for the job. From what Caspian says, they will never in a million years expect trouble from a mere girl.”

“She is correct,” Caspian confirmed.

Peter snarled, “I want to talk you.” He grabbed a hold of her and dragged her out of the room, out into the darkened corridor. Pushing her up against the rough stone wall, he held her in place with the pressure of his body. “What are you doing?”

“Right now? Fighting the urge to kill you.”

“Buffy…”

“Pete, you know I am right about this. Ed needs my help on this.”

“I know,” he admitted. “I just don’t want you to get hurt…”

“You’re about to go fight to the death, followed by a battle and you decide that now…”

He shut her up with a kiss, “You are driving me insane.”

“Right back at you,” she replied rejoining their lips.

From inside the room, Edmund’s voice drifted out, “Are you both coming back in here, or what?”

They pulled apart, “Just be careful.”

“I’ll try.”

They went back into the room and Peter told them, “Buffy and Edmund will deliver the challenge.”

“When?” Edmund asked.

“Well…” Peter sighed. “There is no time like the present.”

Edmund, Buffy and Glenstorm – who had been adamant on accompanying them – walked across what was to become within the next day or two the battlefield, carrying green branches to indicate that they had a message, towards where the Telmarine army had positioned themselves. Once there, they were shown to a tent that purportedly contained Miraz and his Lords. The Telmarine soldiers forced Glenstorm to wait outside as Buffy and Edmund entered and upon seeing Miraz, Edmund unrolled the scroll and began to read.

“I, Peter, by gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, do hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender.”

“Is she a part of this *proposal*?” Miraz asked leering at Buffy.

“Only in my nightmares,” Buffy answered glaring at the supposed Telmarine King.

Edmund butted in before Buffy could get herself into more trouble, “She is King Peter’s intended. She is here *only* to assure that I deliver the challenge correctly.”

Miraz was still leering at Buffy, but was speaking to Edmund, “Tell me, Prince Edmund…”

“King.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s King Edmund actually. Just King though. Peter is the High King. I know it’s confusing.”

“Why would we risk such a proposal when our army could wipe you out by nightfall?”

Edmund smirked, “Haven’t you all ready underestimated our numbers? Only a week ago Narnians were extinct.”

“And so you shall be again.”

“Then you have little to fear.”

Miraz laughed, “This is not a question of bravery.”

“So… you are bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half of your age?” Edmund questioned and Buffy tried not to laugh at the expression on Miraz’s face.

“I did not say, I refused.”

One of the Telmarine Lords spoke up, “You shall have our support Your Majesty. Whatever your decision.”

Sopespian added, “Sire, our military advantage alone allows us the perfect excuse to avoid…”

Miraz stood up and drew his sword at the words that had been uttered. “I am not avoiding anything.”

Sopespian looked fearful, “I am merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse.”

Buffy watched inquisitively the subtle indications between the man who had just spoken and the general and decided it was most likely an order of sorts. She was confirmed accurate when within moments the general had stood up and began to speak to Miraz.

“His Majesty would never refuse. He relishes the chance to show his people the bravery of their new King.”

Miraz turned to Edmund and pointed the sword in his direction. “You had better hope your brother’s sword proves sharper.”’

Edmund and Buffy exchanged looks and smiled as they heard Miraz’s response. They turned around to disappear from the tent, get away from the Telmarines and report what had happened back to Peter, when Buffy was called back by Miraz.

She glared at him, “Your Majesty?”

“When this is all over… I will look forward to having you… and sharing you with my men.”

“I’ll look forward to it too, Your Majesty.”

“You will?” Edmund and Miraz chorused almost comically.

“Absolutely. I will look forward to tearing out your throat and listening to the gurgle of your very last breath through the overflow of your blood when you are ridiculous enough to attempt that,” she told him.

He laughed at her, “And who will do this? Your intended shall be dead.”

“I will,” she answered with conviction. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to underestimate a woman?”

End Part

Lyrics:

Vanessa Amorosi - Perfect