Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia is the property of C.S. Lewis and Walden Media. Not mine.
Hello! Sorry for the wait. I know you don't want to hear my petty excuse, so I suppose I'll just keep those to myself. Here is the problem, I'm kind of hesitant to write chapter four, and I do have it started, because it contains some physical and intentional pain. I'm not quite sure how to write these 'torture' scenes. No, they are not too graphic but they need to make a point. Also, I have my first two one-shots up, both of which have very few reviews, so if you could check them out and let me know what you guys think, it would be greatly appreciated. Please remember to review, I would like to hear what you guys think, and not just the 18 of you that have been so great about this.
A special thanks to my awesome beta, Shadow_Elf_Warrior, who has been such a help throughout my first real writng experiences. Another one to Margaret and Jordan, who have been so encouraging and have offered me input and support since the first day we met. You guys are awesome. Lastly, to blazingfire03, so sorry about the wait and thanks for those extra, albeit unintentional, pushes.
Negotiations
Chapter Three
The sun was beginning to set over the trees and temperatures began to drop. Twilight set in slowly, causing the afternoon shadows to bleed into long shadows that danced on the untamed grass of the wild land. A lone king sat perched on a stone, gazing intently across the vast field and to the edge of the forest beyond. His golden locks were tossed to and fro by the cool winds that swept through the air. His mouth was set in a tight line that reflected the concern and frustration that shone in his clear blue eyes.
Peter was perturbed, to say the least. His little brother had yet to return from the Telmarine campsite. Edmund had set out around three o' clock that afternoon and had yet to return. Peter had felt uneasy about the whole ordeal to begin with as Edmund had insisted upon going alone. Knowing full well of the ruthless cruelty and wicked motives that King Miraz possessed, Peter had reluctantly allowed his little brother to make the arrangements of the
duel by himself.
Edmund was an excellent diplomat, always Peter's first choice when in a quarrel with foreign land, but he rarely held council with anyone alone. Aside from the obvious fact that Edmund was now only a fraction of his previous height and age, Edmund was speaking with a man who had resorted to slaughtering his own brother for his own selfish gain. Peter could hardly stomach the thought of what could be happening beyond the trees.
Still lost in his rampaging thoughts, Peter did not hear the faint foot falls that came to him quietly from behind. He nearly jumped out of his skin and inhaled sharply, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword, when a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. Turning around quickly with a jerk to his left, Peter looked up stiffly only to find the eldest of his sisters standing just behind him.
The sky had faded to a deep midnight blue that dared you to reach your arms up, only to find an endless pool of liquid suspended in the heavens. Stars were creeping into view, speckling the flawless sky with silver and white. The trees swayed to the wind's command, following its direction like musicians follow the conductor. Crickets chirped eagerly, the sound floating on the wind and lulling the Narnians to sleep once again. As their eyes closed and their minds wandered, the creatures of the night began their intricate ballet, dancing to the music of the wood.
The moonlight shone magnificently on the young queen's face and a light breeze moved her chocolate brown tresses around her neck playfully, framing her features beautifully. Her lavender dress flowed around her gloriously, accented with gold stitching that framed her delicate frame well. The elegance of her exterior was lost when one looked to her eyes, however. Wide with fright and rimmed with red, puffy circles, it was obvious she had been crying.
Alarmed, Peter stood at once. He quickly embraced his fretful sister, giving her a tight squeeze before pulling back again.
"Susan." Peter breathed, unsure of what was wrong and certainly not wanting to make it worse.
"Oh, Peter!" Susan gasped, trembling from more than the chill of the wind.
Peter was lost. He looked her over, searching for an injury of sorts that may require tending, but instead finding a piece of paper clenched firmly in her hand. Curious, Peter pried it from her hands as gently as he could. Susan watched his expression carefully as he unrolled the parchment and began to read.
The ink was smudged from a generous supply of tears and the paper was mangled from Susan's tight grip. Peter's eyes examined the page momentarily before beginning to decipher the message written in an exceptionally sloppy hand.
'King Peter,
King Edmund and I have come to an agreement for the current situation. I will meet your blade in two days time, as you requested, allowing your subjects another nights safety. The victor will have the satisfaction of the opposing force's surrender and shall be decided upon by the death of his opponent. In addition, King Edmund has agreed to submit himself to my mercy to insure my appearance on the second day and to guarantee the safety of his 'people' until then. I expect you to honor our decision. We shall speak again when the sun is at its highest point in the sky and our armies face.
King Miraz'
Peter's face turned a furious crimson and he began shaking visibly with anger and disbelief. He stuffed the parchment in his pocket and huffed in frustration, sitting himself back down on to the stone. Susan, having managed to recollect her emotions, was working to calm her older brother down and stop the storm she knew was on its way.
"The message was delivered by a soldier about ten minutes ago, but he left in such a hurry that I had had no time to question him or even read the message," she informed him, trying to get Peter's ears to listen to reason, rather than the blind rage boiling inside him.
With a tense expression and a strained voice, the blond king asked his sister softly, "Would you please gather Caspian and the others?"
Though it was spoken as a question, Susan knew it was a command. She nodded and walked back to the How.
Peter watched her go, her pale face stricken with grief and confusion, no matter how she tried to hide it. With a deep, alleviating breath and one more longing glance at the forest perimeter, he followed her steps into the cave, struggling to rid himself of an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.
Review, please. I know you're out there.