Chapter Thirteen: King versus King:

//This could be the last time
I look in your eyes//

When at long last they arrived back at the How, they headed without delay for Peter to give an account of Miraz’s answer to the challenge. At the response Peter and Caspian had been excessively satisfied with themselves and their strategy. At least that was until Edmund opened his big mouth and informed Peter of exactly what Miraz said to Buffy, causing Peter to go red with temper.

Yet when she had told him she had dealt with the state of affairs and even when she had let him know of the warning she used… Nothing worked. Buffy could not help but be apprehensive that Peter would be preoccupied by the knowledge or so set on some form of vengeance during the combat that he would get himself wounded or even killed.

As the time for the combat drew nearer, every person busied themselves with some endeavour. Edmund gave instructions the troops. Caspian was seeing Susan and Lucy off on their mission, even lending them his devoted horse for the expedition. Peter was getting ready by himself – at his own insistence – and Buffy was… well… supposed to be doing something. She just could not give attention to any task when she was so worked up over the inflexibility of the High King.

So she did what any girl would do, she snuck in to see Peter. To talk some sense into his obstinate self. What she got was an additional flash of muscled bare chest and a parched mouth. That was accompanied by a momentary failure in memory, when everything she had planned to say to him, flew out of her little blonde head.

“Buffy?” he noticed her and paused his movements, which left him half naked.

“Uh – Peter,” she said closing her eyes. “We should talk.”

“Why are your eyes closed?”

“No reason… I guess…” she reluctantly opened them.

He pulled his undershirt on over his head – to Buffy’s relief – and continued, “I don’t want you to worry. Miraz will not get away with insulting you.”

“That is precisely what I wanted to talk about. I don’t want you to do anything foolish.”

“What do you mean?”

She stepped towards him, “I can deal with Miraz and his disturbing friends. But if you were to go out there… Just promise me you will concentrate on the fight and not on some vendetta over my honour…”

“But…”

“No, buts,” she told him. “I don’t want you hurt.”

Peter cupped her face with his hand, “I am not about to get hurt. I am thirteen-hundred years older than him.”

“As well as cockier and not a cruel murdering bastard like he is, but that’s what he has as the advantage.”

“It won’t be an advantage for long, it will be his downfall,” he promised her looking into her eyes, tempestuous blue meeting an apprehensive green. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“Good! Because if you die out there… I will kill you myself,” she said before giving into temptation and kissing him.

He laughed at her little lecture, “Perfect! Now get out of here, you are distracting me.”

“Are you ready?” Buffy asked Peter when he materialized from the room a half hour later, fully dressed in his armour. She had been waiting for him to finish and come out, so that she could have one more go at him about the whole ‘defending of Buffy’s honour’ crap.

“As I will ever be…” he murmured.

Edmund came running into the corridor, “It’s time, Pete.”

Buffy watched as Peter squared his shoulders and put on his imperial High King expression, prepared to show Miraz and the rest of the Telmarines that he did not fear them, nor did he fear death. She pushed past him and Edmund; she found herself dragged back and facing him.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“Out there with you,” she told him. “Someone has to watch Ed’s and your backs.”

“She might be able to distract Miraz…” Edmund added as a proposal.

Peter’s eyes frosted over with fury – a common reaction when dealing with Buffy – but this time his expression never changed. “I don’t think so.”

“Pete, we need every advantage. Now is not the time to let things get personal,” Edmund said, echoing Buffy’s earlier words. “Let her come with us.”

“Fine,” he replied. As Edmund moved away he whispered to her, “Be careful.”

“That is what I was going to say to you.”

The three of them walked out of the How and saw that more or less every Narnian they had with them – that was not part of the special plan – was lined up and ready to watch their King fight. They cheered for Peter, showing their confidence in him and their encouragement. He nodded his acknowledgement and then continued towards where Miraz and his chosen backups were waiting for him.

As they moved towards their opponents, Buffy’s eyes narrowed at the crossbow that was in the general’s hand and knew precisely what it was for. However she calculated that she could in all probability stop the bolt if he shot at Peter. If not… well, she would have to take her retribution later on.

When the got there Edmund handed Peter his helmet, leaving the visor up.  Drawing his sword Peter stepped forward at the same time as Miraz did and they started to circle one another. Round and round they went, neither one wanting to give the other any variety of advantage.

“I see that you brought your whore with you.”

“Well she had expressed a fascination in seeing your blood spill out across the battlefield,” Peter replied, internally seething over the comment. “So I thought I’d indulge her.”

“Do not test me, boy.”

“Do not insult *my* woman, old man.”

Buffy could hear each and every word and was not definite as to which King she wanted to exterminate more. She was not delighted at being characterized as someone’s woman or called a whore - which was without doubt worse. However she supposed she would have to let Peter live… at least until after the battle had been fought - besides, she already had a date to rip that creep Miraz’s throat out.

“There is still time to surrender.”

“Feel free,” Peter told him.

“How many more must die for the throne?”

Peter glared at the man, “Just one.”

She and Edmund cringed as Peter pulled down his visor and jumped at Miraz. The commencement of the combat caused both armies to begin to shout approval for their respective monarchs. The two of them were unfortunately reasonably matched – notwithstanding the perceptible age difference. Each and every blow was met by a countering one from the opposition and it seemed as though neither man was gaining an advantage.

Peter unexpectedly swung back around and landed a formidable blow to Miraz’s back. Regrettably, even though it had looked extraordinary it did nothing but to some extent wind the older man. In return for the strike, Miraz managed to knock off Peter’s helmet and his coif, causing Buffy’s heart to compress at his exposure.

It was gradually killing her to watch the combat. As a girl her feelings about it were immobilizing, crushing her underneath a deluge of helplessness. However, at the same time her slayer disposition and mind, were anticipating the moves of each challenger and planning the best stratagem and counteractions.

She turned her concentration back to the fighting in time to see Peter cut Miraz’s leg, causing a gratifying squeal of pain. Buffy very nearly relaxed until she saw the next move, where Miraz knocked Peter down and stepped onto his shield causing a pain-filled bellow of his own. Glaring she watched as Peter rolled and blocked his way along the ground, avoiding the strikes and giving himself a few moments to recover.

When he unexpectedly stopped, he caused Miraz to stagger and Buffy was full of pride for him when he used the interruption to his own benefit and rose to his feet. The two of them just stood there and stared at each other, both breathing heavily from exhausting themselves. As Peter looked up she saw his expression transform, turning Buffy looked in that direction and spotted Susan and Caspian riding up.

“Does his Highness need a respite?” Miraz mocked.

“Five minutes?” Peter suggested.

Miraz typically countered, “Three.”

Buffy hurried over to assist Peter back to where Edmund was waiting for them, wordlessly checking him over for injuries noticeable and those not-so. He pushed her away as Susan and Caspian came rushing up and apprehension for Lucy’s wellbeing rode roughshod over his own. “Lucy?”

“She got through,” Susan told him. She locked eyes with Caspian and smiled, “With a little help.”

To everyone’s astonishment Peter looked at his accustomed competitor and said, “Thank you.”

Caspian flushed pink with embarrassment, “Well… you were busy.”

While they were talking, Buffy looked over to where Miraz and his general were in discussion and she could just about hear every word they spoke. The elder King turned and caught her eye and in point of fact had the overconfidence to wink at her. Buffy replied by putting her hand to her throat and making a ripping movement. She had to acknowledge that she was reasonably satisfied when he paled in remembrance of her earlier threat.

She turned back to her companions in time to hear Peter order Susan up with the other archers. She was reassured that Peter wasn’t acting as inexperienced as she had thought he might have over this little exhibit. Fortuitously he realised that the chances of the Telmarine’s keeping their word was slim to none.

Susan hugged her brother, causing him to grimace in pain. “Sorry,” she told him before hurrying off.

“I knew it,” Buffy whispered. “Why didn’t you just tell us you were hurt?”

Edmund surveyed the crowd and then told Peter, “Keep smiling.”

Being a respectable boy and doing as he was advised, he smiled at the crowd and roused his sword. He heard the applause and lowered his weapon as soon as it was feasible, trying to hold back the whimpers of pain. Regrettably for him, both Buffy and Edmund heard them.

“I think he’s dislocated it,” Buffy told Edmund as she examined the area.

Edmund smiled, “No problem. I can fix that.”

Peter looked at Buffy and for the first time since she had met him she could see trepidation in them. “What do you think happens back home… if you die here?”

Buffy placed a innocent kiss against his forehead, “I don’t know.”

He then turned to Edmund, “You know, you have always been there. I never really…”

“Save it, Peter.”

“I’m not going to fall for it Ed. There is nothing you can do to distract me…”

Buffy and Edmund exchanged looks and she knelt down next to Peter at his level, meeting his eyes with her own. “Peter…”

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath, “I love you.”

While Peter sat there flabbergasted, Edmund popped his shoulder back in. “Looks like you fell for something…”

He ignored Edmund and the pain, “Do you mean it?”

Buffy saw Miraz stand back up and she kissed him quickly. “Survive this and I’ll tell you.”

Peter stood up and after refusing his helmet, walked back out into the fighting arena again. When he was out there Edmund turned to her, “What a way to encourage him, Buffy.”

“Shut up, Ed!”

With renewed enthusiasm Peter attacked his opponent speedily; sorry to say he was parried for each thrust of his sword. Losing his advantage, Peter found himself being hit over and over again by Miraz’s shield until he fell to the ground once more. Buffy closed her eyes and turned her head away not capable of watching that creep Miraz pound Peter to any further extent, she wanted more than anything at that moment to take Peter’s place in the challenge and show that usurper exactly what pain and dishonour were.

“Way to go, Pete,” Edmund yelled.

She turned around, in time to see Peter thump Miraz in his wounded leg, causing the matured King to scream in pain and fall down to the hardened ground, dropping his sword in the process. Peter stood over the man, with sword in hand and… not anything. He simply stood there staring down at his opponent.

“Respite! Respite!” Miraz begged seeing an opportunity to take advantage of Peter’s perceptible weakness.

“Now is not the time for chivalry, Pete!” Edmund called out to his brother.

“Would you just kill him all ready, before I have to come out there and do it,” Buffy added. Two seconds later she noticed that Caspian and Edmund were staring at her, “What? You all ready know I’m a bloodthirsty girl.”

Peter was still wavering when they at long last looked back and then without warning he simply walked away, back towards them. Buffy, Edmund and Caspian gasped as Miraz grabbed his sword and lunged for Peter’s back. Peter – who seemingly had eyes in the back of his head - dodged the blow just in time, grabbed a hold of the sword and twisted it around to stab Miraz beneath the arm.

With Miraz on his knees in front of him Peter hesitated again, so much so Miraz felt safe to heckle him. “What is the matter boy? Too cowardly to take a life?”

“It’s not mine to take,” Peter replied looking at Caspian. He handed the sword to his fellow warrior and moved away as Caspian took the position over Miraz.

“Perhaps I was wrong. It seems you have the markings of a good Telmarine King after all.”

All and sundry watched as Caspian raised the sword high above his uncle’s head and held it there, a scream rang out and he stabbed it down. Buffy was reassured – as well as annoyed – that Caspian could not do it, that he had stabbed the ground instead and somewhere up above she knew Susan was thankful of it too.

“Not one like you. Keep your life, but I am giving the Narnians back their Kingdom,” and with those words Caspian walked away towards his people who were cheering for him.

The grouping of them took their eyes away from Miraz and the other Telmarines for a minute to pass on good wishes to their friend, when they heard an audible gasp. Looking back they saw Sopespian holding one of Susan’s arrows that he had plunged into Miraz’s back.

He lifted Miraz’s sword at them and then yelled, “Treachery! They shot him! They murdered our King! To arms!”

Buffy just shook her head, “I knew I should have killed him.”

End Part

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