𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || peter pevensie [2]

chapter twelve ~ the battle at aslan's how

The cheers from both the Narnian and Telmarine soldiers could be heard from inside the How. Nimueh fiddled with every strap on Peter's armour, making sure everything was secure, her insecurity about her closeness to the High King seeming so unimportant now.

Edmund stood with them near the entrance of the How, a stern expression on his face. It reminded Nimueh of the old days, when she and the two Kings would walk into battle, side by side. Had the circumstances been different, she would have smiled at the memory.

Before the three of them walked up and out of the How, Peter stopped. "Nimueh?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"If-"

"You aren't going to die," she said firmly.

"How do you know that?"

"Because if you do, Miraz will be dead before you hit the ground."

Peter smiled, his eyes dropping to the floor. "But that would break the deal that we've made with them. That would start a war."

"You'd better not die, then."

Peter continued walking and when Edmund seemed to think he was just out of earshot, he leant over to Nimueh and whispered, "D'you think the Telmarines will keep their side of the deal?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. There's going to be a battle either way, you and I both know that." And they followed the High King into the sunlight.

Horns sounded as the three of them emerged from the How. The Narnians cheered and howled, thrusting their weapons into the air. As Nimueh came level with the courtyard, where the single combat would take place, she finally saw the full extent of the Telmarine army. The sight shook her to the core. She didn't think that even the White Witch's army could have matched this. The odds were not in their favour.

Miraz and his marshals stood with their backs to the sun, casting their faces into shadow. Though Peter wasn't short, Miraz was taller, broader than the young King. His armour looked far heavier too, shining gold in the sunlight.

Patting Peter's arm one more time for luck, Nimueh moved herself a little behind one of the broken pillars and backed up towards the crowd of Narnians. Taking several deep breaths, she prepared herself for what was to come. She placed her hands on her belt, hooking her thumbs over it to stop herself from unsheathing her blades, which were secured onto her back, in a moment of anxiety.

♚

The single combat could have gone better. With each strike, Nimueh had to hold back from edging forwards. She had hurried to the courtyard when the respite had been called, though there was nothing she could have done, and that frustrated her even more.

A wave of relief rushed over her when, at least, Miraz was on his knees, the tip of Peter's sword to his throat. Edmund glanced around at her and she nodded knowingly. Nimueh flexed her hands and made ready to reach up and draw her swords.

Something was said, though Nimueh couldn't hear, and Peter stepped back and handed the sword to Caspian. She was sure that Caspian wouldn't kill his uncle despite everything that he had done but, for the moment, she held her breath. Caspian let out a loud cry and brought the sword down into a stub of grass in front of Miraz.

A great cheer rose from the Narnians, but Nimueh didn't join them. Instead, she walked up to where Peter, Edmund, and Caspian came to stand under a crumbling archway at the side of the courtyard.