IV: "i'll be coming back to life"
"Just keep smiling."
Instantly, Peter's mouth pulled back in a smile and he forced his eyes to crinkle– not in pain but in pleasure. He didn't have to glance over to know Edmund was doing the same.
And for the barest of seconds, his smile felt real. Memories of campaigns, of Orius elbowing them in the side or stomping on their toes. "Just keep smiling," he would hiss through his teeth. "The moment you stop smiling is the moment they stop believing in you."
They had smiled.
They had raised their swords and let battle cries roar from their parched throats.
And they never let their people lose faith.
And now they smiled. Caspian's brow furrowed as he took in their wide grins, their confident stances. He knew almost as well as they did how tired Peter was. He knew that, if they couldn't win in the next few minutes, all would be lost.
Caspian knew a lot about duelling. But not a lot about politics.
Peter let his smile turn into a smirk as his gaze met Miraz's. Let the edges sharpen. Susan would've been disappointed by how– as she would've put it– "cocky and boyish" it looked but Peter didn't care. It did its job: Miraz took up his sword and stormed back into the ring.
"C'mon, Pete," Edmund murmured, standing by as he strapped his shield back on.
Peter looked down at him, at the quiver of worry in his eyes. All of a sudden, he looked too young. Too old. What was his baby brother doing in battle? What was his baby brother doing, being pushed aside when he should've been fighting alongside him?
Peter swallowed, and Edmund's expression wavered in the same moment Peter let his façade drop. "If I don't make it," he started lowly, just for him to hear. "Tell, Lucy and Susan—"
Edmund's expression shut down, turning to steel. His court face, Peter realized with a grain of amusement. He reached out and shoved him forward. "Tell them yourself, you craven," he grumbled. "Survive, Peter." Louder, for everyone to hear, he cried, "For Narnia!"
"For Narnia!" Came the echoing roar behind him.
Peter raised his sword in the air. "For Aslan!"
A hundred fists in the air. "For Aslan!"
Peter turned back to Miraz, sword drawn and shield raised; the power of the Lion and the support of Narnia behind him.
Just keep smiling.