𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 || peter pevensie [1]

chapter ten ~ the battle of beruna

Levi stamped his hooves; Nimueh ran her fingers through his mane, in an attempt to calm him or herself, she wasn't sure. But she didn't speak a word.

Peter had been silent for a long time. He stared out at the vast field, eyes fixed on the horizon. He knew what was coming, but Nimueh knew that when it did, he would be scared out of his mind. Her first battle had been brutal and bloody, but thankfully, short. She had been younger than Peter, and she had felt a fear that she couldn't hope to put into words.

Then, on the horizon, a dark shape emerged. The minotaur was carrying a battle axe, easily longer than Nimueh was tall. She glanced at the young man on the unicorn next to her. He gulped, his eyes never leaving the horizon as it became polluted by the dark shapes of the Witch's army.

They stopped, their leader staring across the battlefield. Nimueh could almost feel the icy hatred against her skin. She looked over at Peter again, waiting for his word, but his attention was still captured eyes by the enemy. Their advance now continued. From where Peter's army was, they looked like ants scuttling across the grass. But as they grew closer, their figures became clear. The ugly creatures that spanned the horizon were barrelling towards them, looking to destroy everything in their path. Peter raised his sword above his head and pointed it forwards. Lifting her head to the skies, Nimueh saw dozens of Griffins flying overhead carrying rocks. As they soared above the Witch's army, they let the rocks fall.

"Are you with me?" Peter asked, finally turning to look at Nimueh. She gave him a short nod. He turned to Oreius.

"To the death," the Centaur replied, a wild ferocity radiating from his majestic form.

Nimueh brought her hand to the pendant tucked under her shirt. Closing her eyes, she thought of Aslan, wherever He may be, and prayed that she would once again see the Narnia that she loved.

"For Narnia! And for Aslan!" At Peter's cry, she opened her eyes, drew the swords from their sheaths on her back, and kicked Levi forwards. This was the reason she had been called.

Hooves and paws pounded on the grass. It was as if she had cotton wool in her ears; the battle cries were muffled, her focus ahead. Peter's sword glinted in the sunlight, reflecting into her eyes. Her ponytail whipped in the wind, her glare piercing the Cyclops charging towards her.

And before he knew what was happening, Nimueh had sliced his head clean from his shoulders. The Cyclops fell with a thud, but she was already gone. Swords clashed, creatures on both sides were knocked to the ground. Nimueh cut through everything she could reach, careful to avoid taking down anyone on her own side. After driving one of her swords deep into the belly of a Fury, and throwing it to the ground, she noticed a small woman stumbling towards the edge of the battlefield. Pulling on Levi's reins, she turned the horse and weaved through the soldiers and corpses.

"Elijah! What in the name of Aslan are you doing?" she yelled at the feeble Dryad.

"I wanted to fight!" But Nimueh could see the blood soaking through her clothes.

"I understand that. But you have to get out of here; you don't have any training!" Sliding off her horse, she sheathed her blades and grabbed hold of Elijah's arm. "Come on. Take my horse. You've got to leave now." She helped the Dryad onto Levi's saddle, slapping his rear and hoping that, somehow, Elijah could get away alive.

Being a little away from the fighting gave her the temporary advantage of going unnoticed by many of the enemy soldiers. Unslinging her bow from her shoulder, she loaded it with two arrows. She turned the bow on its side and fired into the back of an Ogre who was bludgeoning a group of Fauns. But before they could turn their attention to her, she caught a streak of fire soaring across the sky, tearing a rift between the two armies. For a moment, it looked as though they might have the upper hand.

But the White Witch was on the move, slicing through the flames with her wand. There came a shout from the King, and his army begin to draw back to where there were rocks embedded in the hillsides. It was their backup plan; it was their territory. From that point onwards, they should have had the high ground.

Nimueh bolted, looping around the charging enemy to re-join her own side. There were fewer of them left than she'd hoped for, and the Witch's army seemed to have taken little damage. Leaping up to the top of one of the hills, she took a few more shots from above. One of the Furies flew towards her, talons stretched out, ready to claw at her flesh. Slinging the bow back over her shoulder, she draw one of her swords and hacked at its legs before it had the chance to touch her. The Fury's body slammed into the rock at her feet, and she buried the sword in its chest for good measure.

Then, something jolted through the air, a shock wave of some sort, and Nimueh fell onto her back. All the breath knocked from her lungs, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, gasping. Laying on the ground, a few metres away, was her blade. Rolling onto her front, she crawled on her elbows and grabbed it. When she finally had the strength to get to her feet, she scanned the battlefield for an opening. She spotted Edmund laying on his back, clutching his waist where fresh blood was seeping through his armour. A Minotaur was ripping through the valley, and he was on track to trample the boy.

Nimueh, with one sword in hand, leapt down, reaching with the other hand for one of the Minotaur's horns. Swinging her body around the horn, she planted her feet firmly on the creatures head. It barely registered her until she plunged both of her swords into its skull. It flailed wildly, raising its battle axe and knocking her clean off its head. She landed on her feet and watched the Minotaur fall, dead.

Knowing that she couldn't do a thing to help Edmund, she whipped around, almost running into a stone Centaur. That's when she saw them.

The White Witch was prowling towards Peter. She had a collar made from what Nimueh could only assume to be the fur of Aslan's mane. Fuelled by a fresh rage, she stalked over to where Peter and the White Witch were circling each other. The moment the Witch so much as lifted her arm to take a swing at Peter, Nimueh lunged.

Sheathing her swords, she curled her arms around the Witch's waist and, throwing what little weight she had to the ground, pulled her away from Peter. The boy looked bewildered and staggered backwards with his sword raised.

"Stupid girl!" the Witch screamed.

Nimueh got to her feet before the Witch managed to, and tried to tackle one of the swords out of her hand. But the Witch threw up her leg and kicked Nimueh clear of the scene. She tumbled down and smacked her head on the edge of a rock. Her vision blurred and went black, her head throbbing, and the world was snatched away.