A/N: Well, here it finally is. The chapter that's taken me months to finish. But I realized halfway through that Peter needed to tell a story, and so I needed to write it. So. I'll also be posting it separately, since it rather took on a life of its own. But that's neither here nor there. You want to read the chapter. So here it is! (Oh, and by the by, the title of Peter's chapter is Old Narnian, and means [you guessed it], Brother.)
Bereft of all his siblings, Peter wandered over the grounds, occasionally stopping to see an exhibit, but more often keeping to himself as he thought about Narnia. He had not had a hobby there like his siblings; he had not felt he had time.
He wished he could have made time, now. Seeing his siblings find comfort in England in the things they loved There made him long for the peace that comes when you are fully engrossed in the rhythm of a task you love.
His head jerked up as a fierce cry sounded across the grass. "Take that! And that!"
He saw the source; a small boy of perhaps ten was attacking a boy, about Peter's age, with his wooden sword. His attack was deflected easily and his stick knocked out of his hand. The older boy stopped and picked it up and handed back to the younger boy.
Peter walked over to them. "Hullo. You mind if I watch? I've got nothing else to do just now, you see," he said with an apologetic shrug.
"Sure," the older boy shrugged, then turned back to the fight. "Lewis, my turn to attack."
The younger one nodded and took a defensive stance. "Ready when you are!" he said cheerfully.
The older boy attacked and Lewis bravely met the charge, but Peter could see his stick wavering. He stepped behind the lad and grabbed the stick just above his hands. The older boy looked a bit surprised, but attacked again.
Peter's reflexes kicked in. He ripped the sword out of Lewis' hands, and hooking the cross-guard around the older boy's, he jerked with a twist. The stick fell to the ground and both boys looked at him with their mouths open.
"I say!" Lewis ejaculated, "That was something like! Can you teach us to do that?"
Peter groaned inwardly – as the professor said, they had decided to try and keep their Narnian background a secret - but it was no good now. They were only boys, any way. He smiled. "Certainly. I'm Peter. May I request - I mean, what are your names?"
"I'm Robert, and this is my younger brother Lewis."
"Good to meet you. Now, the first thing to learn is how to take care of your sword."
Both brothers' faces fell and Peter laughed. "Well, I suppose we could start with something a bit more interesting. The trick I just did is called, um, Griffin's Talons."
The brothers nodded eagerly, accepting the strange name without comment.
"To start, stand as I am, then..."
For the next half hour, Peter patiently taught Griffin's Talons and Knight's Defense to an enamored audience.
Eventually, though they tried hard to hide it, the boys admitted they were worn out, and all three flopped down on the grass.
"Peter," Robert said, looking at him curiously, "where -"
"Let me tell you a story," Peter interposed hastily, stalling the question.
"Oh, good. I love stories." The younger brother said happily. "Does it have a knight and a dragon in it? Those are my favourites."
Peter smiled at him. "Yes, actually, it does. Once upon a time, in a land that was not earth, there was a great King named Gale. He was lord of land called Narnia. And one day a messenger came from the Lone Islands, requesting aid. . .
"One day, as King Gale was making ready to go a-maying with his Court, a courtier came from the Lone Isles, desiring an audience.
The king immediately gave orders for his admittance, and the man entered, looking weary and in great distress. "Great King," he cried, "I am come on behalf of King Marc. A fearsome beast is attacking our lands."
"What manner of beast?" King Gale asked.
"He is covered with scales from muzzle to tail, and at the tip of his tail is a spike injected with poison that brings about instant death. He has wings greater than an eagle's, and great claws, moreover, he breaths fire and a poisonous smoke. Our greatest warriors have essayed to kill it but are vanquished.
"Therefore was I sent to beg succour of you, Lord, and plead with you to come to our aid, and in return was I bid give you this letter." So saying, the man held out a parchment, and, taking it, Gale motioned his counsellors into the Privy Council room.
On perusing the document, Gale could not hold back a cry of surprise. "My good lords," said he, "in this letter does King Marc offer any knight that may vanquish this fiendish Monster the hand of his daughter in marriage, and after he dies, the throne and holdings of the Lone Isles."
As the councillors discussed the offer, Gale was possessed of a mighty desire to slay this beast himself and thus win the hand of the Princess Cerise. He had met her hitherto, and had been much taken with her, though his councillors had told him she was too young to wed.
"My lords," he interrupted their discussion, "I will myself, with Aslan's blessing, kill this dread beast and thus enlarge Our territory and win a queen. What say you?"
There was much demurring and talk, but in the end they agreed he might. So, the next morning did King Gale of Narnia set said in his caravel "Breath of Aslan" for the Lone Isles, taking with him nine other strong and trusted men.
They were welcomed with great rejoicing, and King Marc and his daughter spread them a feast with what cheer they could, and after they had slept, Gale made ready to do battle.
As he went down to the gates, his men following, their swords out and at the ready, Cerise met them at the gate. Bearing a silver flagon, she offered it to each of the men in turn. "May Aslan keep you safe and give you victory," she murmured to each of the men as they drank.
After she gave the cup to Gale, she hesitated, looking down at the cup. "My lord, gramercy for coming to our aid. It - I...I am glad it was you that came." She looked up at him and smiled, and the smile was as an arrow piercing deep into the king's heart, and he knew he loved her.
Gale smiled down at her as he handed her the cup. "My lady, I too, am glad I may serve thee in this way. Whether I myself am victorious or no, I pray thou might be delivered in some wise from this beast."
So King Gale and his nineteen companions went down to do battle with the monster. They waited by his cave for a half of an hour, when one of Gale's men cried out and pointed with his spear to the sky. Swooping down, getting vaster by the instant, was a beast. It was exactly as the messenger had described it, covered with scales, a huge spike on the end of its tail, wings like unto a bat's, and breathing fire and sulfur.
"Who is it," the beast roared, "That has dared come nigh my cave!"
"Foul monster," answered the King, "I come in the name of Aslan and on behalf of the Princess Cerise to do battle with you."
Then was the beast very wroth, and with a roar, sprang at Gale. The king defended himself with shield and sword as his companions, with shouts of alarm, sprang to their king's aid.
But the monster's tail whipped around and knocked them off their feet before they could reach him.
With a quick prayer to Aslan, Gale gripped his sword tighter, and sprang at the monster with a shout.
In return he was blasted with fiery sulfur and stumbled back with a cry, near blinded. The beast pursued his advantage, following Gale relentlessly, letting loose another blast of fire.
Gale dropped to his knees, his shield bearing the image of the Lion on't the only thing between him and death. "Aslan!" he cried, "do not now desert your son! Come quickly, make no tarrying, O my Lord!"
A breath of fresh air wafted to him through the stench of fire and death, and Gale was refreshed. He felt his burns and stinging eyes no more, but with new vigour stood and joined battle. The beast fell back before this fresh onslaught, and not giving him a chance to recover, Gale struck with all his might, half severing the head from the neck. Turning away with bowed head, he sank to his knees and thanked Aslan for the victory.
Then there was a cry from behind him, a roar from in front of him, and before he could react he was pushed to the ground and looked up from his prostrate position just in time to see the end of the monster's tail, dripping with venom, swing over him. He rolled over, snatched his sword from the ground and was on his feet in the same movement. He disunited the tail from the rest of the body and then turned to see who had saved him.
It was Cerise, her hair half fallen down, dress disheveled and panting heavily, she had never seemed more beautiful.
"Princess, what do you here?" Gale cried, much astonied.
"I…I snuck out to see the fight – Papa doesn't know - but you were almost killed, I nearly screamed several times, but I didn't want to distract you, and then you cut off its head, but then you turned away, and I saw his tail coming around, and I knew you didn't see it, so I…I think I must have pushed you over – I don't really remember. I must have lost my head."
"Lady, if you had not lost yours I would have surely lost mine. You have my deepest gratitude. I am in your debt forever." He swept her the best bow he could, then stumbled as his wounds chose that moment to make them known.
Cerise let out a cry and sprang forward, catching him before he could fall. "My lord, you are hurt – and your men as well. I will call for aid." She fumbled at the waist of her dress for a moment before pulling out a tiny silver horn. Setting it to her lips, she blew a long note, and then dropped it again, saying, "My father's men will be here at any moment."
In short order the Lone Islanders appeared and carried Gale and his men to the healers.
Gale recovered from his wounds and married Cerise. They had many children and lived happily until they died, and their eldest daughter became queen of Narnia."
As Peter finished, he felt a touch on his shoulder. He smiled. "Hullo, Ed."
"That was well told."
"Yes!" Lewis breathed, eyes wide. "That was A-1, wasn't it, Rob?"
"Ripping!" was the elegant response.
"Lucy could not have told it better." Edmund grinned at his sister, who had just sank down beside Lewis on the grass.
"That I could not."
"What tale did you tell, brother?" Susan asked, joining the group with a nod and a smile for the two boys.
"King Gale and the Dragon." Peter replied. "Oh, Lewis, Robert, these are my siblings. Edmund, Susan, and Lucy. Consorts, this is Robert, and this brave warrior is Lewis."
"What does 'consorts' mean?" Lewis asked, waving away an inquisitive mosquito.
"Uh, it means, uh –"
"It means people you spend time with." Edmund neatly interposed.
"Yes." Peter agreed in relief.
"Well, consorts," Susan said, "I'm afraid we must go now. It was good to meet you," she smiled at the brothers.
"You too," said Lewis, while Robert just stared. Lucy smothered a grin, recognizing the signs of yet another inadvertent conquest.
"We'll try and come back soon," Peter said, helping Lucy to her feet.
And arms about one another's shoulders, the four Pevensies left the park.
Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed/favourited/alerted this story! It really means so much.
