Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. My writing is not that good, and I'm not that great at descriptions!
A/N: OK, this is just a really random oneshot that I was thinking of when I watched some parts of the movie posted on YouTube. Enjoy!
Glozelle didn't think much of these Narnians. Granted, they had different fighting methods and for some, brute strength alone was enough, but they bled and died just as easily as anyone. He'd been fighting for what seemed like hours, but he knew the battle wasn't finished yet. After his horse had fallen into the pit, he'd been attacked by a jaguar. The jaguar he'd thrown his sword into, and then he'd been forced to grab a spear to fight off the attack of several large goat-like men. He stabbed one and then looked up and saw a young man falling into the pit a few yards away. Fortune seemed to smile at him: It was Caspian. With a wild battle cry, he charged the young prince, spear raised. Caspian saw him and their eyes met. The prince's eyes were wide with fear, but then a look of calm entered them. He swallowed and stared up at the general, peacefully awaiting death. Glozelle stared at him, thoughts racing through his mind:
He is the blood nephew of King Miraz, and would have the Narnians join you.
He's just a boy.
He is a traitor to the Telmarines.
He is a prince.
He must be stopped and killed.
He is a fellow Telmarine.
He is your master.
He is the only royal left.
Your king is dead.
He is your leader now.
He doesn't deserve this.
The general and the prince stared at each other. Caspian's gaze was anxious but firm: If death would take him, so be it.
You are the only one left who can rule.
Gasping with exertion and perhaps relief, Glozelle lowered the spear, his dark eyes locked on those of the only male Telmarine on the field fit to rule.
Behind him, he heard a rumbling noise, and then something suddenly wrapped around his waist, yanking him away from the stunned eyes of Caspian. Glozelle felt his head being whipped upwards into rock, and then there was darkness.
--
The pain. That was the first thing that told Glozelle he wasn't dead, unless someone in the afterlife had struck him in the exact spot where he'd been hit before. He groaned and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a handheld cloth reaching for his brow. Almost on instinct, he grabbed the wrist of the person holding the hand.
"Ow!" yelped a voice.
"Hey, get off her!" barked a male voice. "So much for decency! She helps you out after all you've done, and you hurt her wrist instead of saying thank you?"
The voice was so commanding that even Glozelle, a seasoned war veteran, found himself muttering, "Sorry."
"Ed!" the first voice said reproachfully. "He didn't mean it!" The speaker was young, definitely a female. Painfully, he turned his head to look at the speakers. The younger one was a girl, about the age of eleven, and she smiled at him before mopping his brow again with the cloth. Hovering almost protectively over her was a dark haired boy a year or two older than her. Glozelle recognized him: King Edmund. Not prince, as Miraz had assumed, but King. After seeing the boy in battle, Glozelle knew he was king. He caught the boy's eye, causing the youth to frown. The girl saw and elbowed her companion.
"Stop that, Lu!" he said sharply. "You didn't see him on the battlefield!" 'Lu' rolled her eyes.
"He's not attacking me is he?" she asked.
"That's only because Ed's there," said a voice that Glozelle found all too familiar. "If he weren't, Glozelle would take you hostage just to save himself."
"No," the general croaked, his voice dry and raspy. The girl dropped the cloth and scurried off. King Edmund rolled his eyes at someone and then, suddenly, the High King – Peter, King Edmund had called him – was standing there.
"You're awake," he said in a flat voice. Glozelle just looked at him. "Your men are dead, Sopespian is gone, and Caspian has assumed rule over Narnia."
"The queen?" Glozelle rasped.
"With her son," said another voice. There was the rustling of footsteps, the clanking of chain mail, and Caspian stood at his side. "How are you feeling?" the prince asked. Glozelle managed a nod. Just then, the girl, Lucy, returned, carrying a cup of water.
"Here," she said, sitting down and helping him drink it. At this, three voices cried out and there was the ringing of steel upon steel as three swords were drawn.
"That's enough!" said a stern voice. Another girl joined them, her blue eyes narrowed. "Out, all of you!" she barked. "This is a hospital tent, not a dueling ring!"
"Susan," Peter began.
"Get out!" she snapped. "Now!" Looking more like scolded children than trained soldiers, the three of them left. Susan looked at Lucy and smiled before hurrying off to attend to someone else. Lucy set the cup on a table at the bedside and then started to go. Glozelle caught her arm and she looked at him in surprise. Swallowing, the Telmarine general managed to say two simple words:
"Thank you."
--
It was late at night when Glozelle suddenly sensed someone approaching his bed. Panic flared up in his mind. Perhaps the Narnians were coming to kill him! Desperately, he groped around in the dark for some type of weapon.
"It's me," said a voice. Glozelle froze.
"Caspian," he breathed. The prince stepped into the moonlight.
"Who else?" he asked with a wry smile.
"So you have won, eh? You have done what Miraz swore you would not," the general said, studying his new lord. "What will happen to your people?"
"The Telmarines are welcome to stay," Caspian insisted. "If they wish it. If not, Aslan has promised to send them to a place where they can live out the rest of their lives in peace."
"And in doing that, do they receive the forgiveness that they do not deserve?"
"Yes." Caspian said fiercely, his dark eyes burning. Then he looked at the general a bit hesitantly. "Will you go?" Glozelle smiled resignedly.
"I think that the new king has a right to choose his new general." He said, bowing his head as best as he could to the prince. Caspian looked both relieved and saddened.
"You are a good soldier," he said. "You have served your people well." Glozelle nodded. Caspian stepped back. "But you must do as you will. Be safe," he said.
"You will be a greater king than Miraz ever hoped to be," the general said as Caspian departed. Then he rolled over and tried to get some sleep. Just as he began to dream, a voice spoke to him:
Be at peace, son of Telmar. Be at peace.
There! Hopefully this doesn't suck too badly. I was re-watching the movie and noticed that Glozelle didn't stab Caspian by choice and thought about writing this little fanfic, since we don't know how he got from the battlefield to the palace or what was said. Please R&R!