The Triumph
Peter gripped his unicorn's reins tightly as he rode past hundreds of marching Narnian troops. In the middle of the long line, Edmund rode alone. After a moment, Oreius fell alongside, receiving a greeting nod from the youngest future king of Narnia. The centaur nodded back, then stared straight ahead.
"Your brother wants you to oversee the archers and hold the high ground."
Edmund looked up, surprised.
Still marching, the centaur continued with a stone-face, "He has great faith in you. I questioned it." Finally, Oreius turned to the boy. "He convinced me."
Edmund swallowed hard as the centaur stared down at him. "How?"
The centaur fought back a smile. "He reminded me that you were trained by the same person I had once had the honor to have as my apprentice." He then gave him a military salute and trotted ahead.
Edmund stared at his retreating form for a moment, then looked away, smiling to himself as he understood who Oreius had been referring to.
Down the hill, many Narnians up front, Peter looked calm, but, really, he felt like he was going to be sick. Glancing up at the sky, he saw the leader of the griffins swoop down towards him. The Griffin landed beside him, and began to speak in a very quick voice,
"They come, your highness, in numbers and weapons far greater than our own."
"Numbers do not win a battle," said Oreius, from where he stood on Peter's left.
"No," said Peter. "But I bet they help."
He looked over the plain and clenched his jaw as the sound of a trumpet echoed across the battlefield, announcing the approaching of the White Witch's army, which was composed of a seething mass of evil creatures. Squadrons of Cyclops, battalions of black dwarfs; General Otmin led a phalanx of Minotaurs. Finally, twin polar bears pulled a gleaming chariot. At the reins stood Ginarrbrick, and towering above him, magnificent in her battle mail and flowing robes...
The Witch.
Peter looked to the Eagle. "Did she offer terms different than the obvious ones?" he asked with a slightly sarcastic edge.
As the opposing army came up closer and closer, he finally saw the Witch more clearly; the nasty smirk plastered on her cold white face, her eyes squinted in a mocking manner... and it looked as if she had a mane around her.
The soon-to-be High King glared in fury when he realized just whom it belonged to. He then looked behind his shoulder at his brother Edmund. The younger Pevensie boy nodded at him, and Peter turned back around, pulled his reins up slightly, motioning Silver to go forward. Hiding his nerves as best as he could, he rode calmly in front of his troops.
"Soldiers of Aslan! Today, we face a grave battle... and likely a costly one."
Oreius nodded grimly.
"It may not have to be that way... the Witch has offered a deal." Some of the soldiers murmured amongst each other. "She will withdraw and you may return to your homes... if Edmund and I surrender ourselves to her."
Several bears growled, and Peter raised his hand to quiet them.
"If you wish it, we will go." A faun scowled, shaking his head. "If you do not, we would consider it the greatest honor to stay and fight by your side."
The crowd exploded in a fierce cheer, banging their swords against their shields.
"I think you have your answer," said Oreius.
Peter searched the hill behind him. He found Edmund, standing with Beaver. Edmund nodded once again, supportive. Peter then lifted his sword, accepting their allegiance.
Across the field, the Witch smiled thinly. Beside her, Ginarrbrick pulled on his helmet.
The Witch then turned to her General with a scowl. "I'm not interested in prisoners. Eradicate them."
Otmin roared. Then, with a thunder of hooves and steel, the Witch's army charges.
Peter waited, sword held high.
The dark army approached in a cloud of dust.
Finally, Peter swallowed hard, then sliced his sword through the air. Eagles, Falcons, griffins, and hawks took flight, large stones gripped in their talons. The grounded Narnians watched the many vertebrates drop their rocks, cracking the skulls of the evil army, breaking their formation. Still, however, they advanced.
Peter then raised his sword in the air anew and cried out, "For Narnia! For Aslan! And for Ella!"
He then pointed his blade forward toward the enemy army and shouted, "CHARGE!"
Silver Moon, the pure white unicorn the soon-to-be High King rode, reared up, neighing ferociously into the clear air. Peter then urged the unicorn and they galloped at full speed, leading a wedge of centaurs against the now disorganized black army.
CRASH.
Talons, claws, swords, and lances collided, creatures on both sides falling as the Battle of Beruna began.
"What an extraordinary place!" cried Lucy. "All those stone animals— and people too! It's— it's like a museum."
"Hush," said Susan, "Aslan's doing something."
He was indeed. He had bounded up to the stone lion and breathed on him. Then without waiting a moment he whisked round— almost as if he had been a cat chasing its tail— and breathed also on the stone dwarf, which was standing a few feet from the lion with his back to it. Then he pounced on a tall stone dryad which stood beyond the dwarf, turned rapidly aside to deal with a stone rabbit on his right, and rushed on to two centaurs.
But at that moment Lucy said, "Oh, Susan! Look! Look at the lion."
There was newspaper propped up in a grate against an unlit fire. Then, for a second, nothing seemed to have happened. However, a tiny streak of flame soon found itself creeping along the edge of the newspaper.
You know when someone puts a lighted match to a bit of newspaper? It was like that now.
For a second, after Aslan had breathed upon him, the stone lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back then it spread— then the color seemed to lick all over him as the flame licks all over a bit of paper— then, while his hindquarters were still obviously stone, the lion shook his mane and all the heavy, stone folds rippled into living hair. Then he opened a great red mouth, warm and living, and gave a prodigious yawn. And now his hind legs had come to life. He lifted one of them and scratched himself. Then, having caught sight of Aslan, he went bounding after him and frisking round him whimpering with delight and jumping up to lick his face.
Of course, the children's eyes turned to follow the lion; but the sight they saw was so wonderful that they soon forgot about him. Everywhere the statues were slowly coming to life.
Slightly impatient, Ella stepped toward the Great King and unsheathe her sword. She turned and looked up at him. "May I?" she asked softly, motioning her sword ahead of them.
The Great Lion looked at her and nodded his giant head. "You may."
And she stepped forward, closed her eyes and swung her sword in the air. After three swings, her eyes snapped open glowing gold, then, like at the Stone Table, she stepped forward and raised her sword with one hand and stabbed it into the icy ground. Like the previous night, a lightning bolt emitted from the blade as she embedded it into the ground. Like before, the blade along with its owner began to glow gold, and the glow traveled through the icy surface and past and through every statue, and for a moment, the Pevensie girls had to cover their eyes as the glow became a flash-blinding light.
When it died down, they uncovered their eyes and realized what Ella had done. She had used whatever magic she had and sped up the process of bringing all of these creatures back to life. She was impatient, though it was understandable; a war was going on a few terrains away.
Susan and Lucy glanced around, awe clear in their eyes.
The courtyard looked no longer like a museum; it looked more like a zoo. Instead of all that deadly white the courtyard was now a blaze of colors; glossy chestnut sides of centaurs, indigo horns of unicorns, dazzling plumage of birds, reddy-brown of foxes, dogs and satyrs, yellow stockings and crimson hoods of dwarfs; and the birch-girls in silver, and the beech-girls in fresh, transparent green, and the larch-girls in green so bright that it was almost yellow. And instead of the deadly silence, the whole place rang with the sound of happy roarings, brayings, yelpings, barkings, squealings, cooings, neighings, stampings, shouts, hurrahs, songs, and laughter.
"Oh!" said Susan in a different tone. "Look! I wonder— I mean, is it safe?"
Lucy looked and saw that Aslan had just breathed on the feet of the stone giant.
"It's all right!" shouted Aslan joyously. "Once the feet are put right, all the rest of him will follow."
"That wasn't exactly what I meant," whispered Susan to Lucy.
But it was too late to do anything about it now even if Aslan would have listened to her. The change was already creeping up the Giant's legs. Now he was moving his feet. A moment later he lifted his club off his shoulder, rubbed his eyes and said,
"Bless me! I must have been asleep. Now! Where's that dratted little Witch that was running about on the ground? Somewhere just by my feet, it was."
But when everyone had shouted up to him to explain what had really happened, and when the Giant had put his hand to his ear and got them to repeat it all again so that at last he understood, then he bowed down till his head was no further off than the top of a haystack and touched his cap repeatedly to Aslan, beaming all over his honest ugly face.
"Now for the inside of this house!" said Aslan. "Look alive, everyone. Upstairs and downstairs and in the Witch's chamber! Leave no corner unsearched. You never know where some poor prisoner may be concealed."
And into the interior, they all rushed and for several minutes the whole of that dark, horrible, fusty old castle echoed with the opening of windows and with everyone's voices crying out at once, "Don't forget the dungeons— Give us a hand with this door! Here's another little winding stair— Oh! I say. Here's a poor kangaroo. Call Aslan— Phew! How it smells in here— Look out for trap-doors— Up here! There are a whole lot more on the landing!"
But the best of all was when Lucy came rushing upstairs shouting out, "Aslan! Aslan! I've found Mister Tumnus. Oh, do come quick."
A moment later Lucy and the little Faun were holding each other by both hands and dancing round and round for joy. The little chap was none the worse for having been a statue and was of course very interested in all she had to tell him. But at last, the ransacking of the Witch's fortress was ended. The whole castle stood empty with every door and window open and the light and the sweet spring air flooding into all the dark and evil places which needed them so badly. The whole crowd of liberated statues surged back into the courtyard.
"We must go as soon as possible." Though Ella spoke quietly, her voice resonated loud and clear throughout the icy walls of the castle. "The battle is not over— the others need our help."
Hearing what she said, Susan nodded in agreement. "We sent the word that you were dead. They need to know you're not... they need to know we can help."
Ella looked at Aslan for a moment, then turned to the newly recovered Narnians.
"My dear friends, I know you have gone through enough hardship, and believe me when I tell you I wouldn't be asking this had the circumstances been otherwise, but... Right now, all of our fellows Narnians who had managed to survive the Witch's wrath are out there fighting alongside the future kings of Narnia with only two goals: avenge all the losses caused by her and claim back our land."
"But they won't win if they don't get any more help; not all of them are trained warriors," Susan chimed in.
Lucy then stepped forward, one hand latching on to her sister's while the other grabbed on to Ella's.
"Will you help us help them?" asked the little girl.
It was silent for a moment, only a few murmurs heard amongst the creatures as they discussed what they would do.
"I am forever in your debts, Your Majesties. It would be an honor and a privilege to fight on your side," Mister Tumnus was first to speak, though the sudden confidence quickly drained from his whole being when a pair of piercing hazelnut eyes glanced his way. "I-if you'll have me," the Faun stuttered.
Ella beamed at him. "Of course, Mister Tumnus," she said softly.
Then, one by one, the other creatures began to step up and offer their arm in combat, and Ella couldn't help but smile at her people with pride.
Her smile never faltering, Ella brought her sword up, then sliced it through the air as she cried out, "For Narnia!"
A roar of cheers surrounded her, and, soon, Ella, Aslan, Susan, Lucy and the rescued Narnians were racing toward the plains of Beruna.
After the Witch's first wave of troops had thinned the ranks of Aslan's army, the Witch sent the second wave of her attack. To keep his forces from being crushed in the open, Peter ordered a retreat to a fall-back point in the rocks where his archers were stationed.
During the retreat, the unicorn that Peter was mounted on was shot out from under him, and he lay stunned for several moments.
Seeing that their future king was extremely vulnerable with the enemy closing in, Oreius and a rhinoceros charged into the ranks of the Witch's army to buy Peter some time to recover and retreat with the rest of his army.
Shortly into the charge, the rhinoceros was cut down by ankle slicers, while Oreius continued on in the direction of the Witch, killing Otmin along the way. When Oreius made it to the Witch, they dueled briefly before he was turned to stone.
As the battle wore on, it became clear to Peter that the fight was lost.
"Edmund, there's too many! Get out of here! Get the girls, and get them home!"
Edmund initially obeyed his brother, but when he saw the witch zeroing in on Peter, he changed course and engaged her.
Halting mid-run, the black stallion ridden by the princess back up a little and started whinnying in seemed like agony. Ella's eyes widened and she quickly tightened her grasp on Midnight's reins as he shifted his weight strongly to his hindquarters and, with a balanced rear, let out the strongest, agonized neigh she had ever heard a stallion, of any sort, emit. It was strong, loud and powerful, yet full of so much pain, and Ella quickly understood what he was going in about.
Quickly, she leaned forward, bringing the stallion back to the ground before tugging on his reins as a signal to turn hurry, and Midnight no other second.
She knew he was pushing himself as best as he could, but she could not help but wish he'd go faster as soon as her eyes, enhanced with the sight of the elleth part she possessed within her, caught sight of the centaur who had once been her mentor, now turned into stone. Her black pupils almost dilated fully over her hazelnut irises when her eyes zeroed in on the youngest prince who quickly falling at the mercy of the Witch after having tried to protect his older brother.
Impatient to get there, Ella urged her stallion to go faster.
"Midnight, when I tell you, give me a boost, alright?"
The unicorn neighed.
She steadily stood on Midnight's saddle, the shouted, "Up!"
And the horse's rear rose abruptly, sending Ella flying forward, flipping and twirling in the air, landing exactly where she had hoped she would, though not exactly at the moment she'd been hoping.
Although Edmund's first attack missed Jadis's wand, he was quickly able to shatter it with his sword. Jadis, however, being the better warrior, quickly recovered, and stabbed was quick to aim for Edmund with every intention of mortally wounding him, even if she did it with her broken wand.
However, neither of them expected another body to drop down out of nowhere, right in between them, and take the mortal blow herself.
When the realization hit Edmund as to whom had just, in other words, taken the bullet for him, horror began to suffocate him as he fell to the ground.
"No!" The boy's shout was so full of agony, instantly catching the attention of his older brother who was a few duels away.
Stabbing away a stubborn harpy that just seemed to not want to die, Peter quickly glanced in the direction of his brother's shout and instantly felt his heart drop at the sight that greeted him.
Few yards away, stood Eleanor Kirke, the girl who hated being called Eleanor and insisted on being called Ella. The girl who had turned out to be the princess and future High Queen of a land he never thought possible to exist. The girl who had sworn an oath that, come what may, she would always push forward no matter what tried to keep her back and would do anything to keep them safe, even if that meant taking a bullet for them... Or a broken wand in this case. Even if that meant having to die.
There stood Ella, in all her glory of survival, and yet agony at the possibly mortal wound— the girl Peter now realized he had feelings for. Feelings he hadn't understood for almost an entire month until now as he felt the relief of seeing her there, alive, but with an immense fear at the thought of probably losing her over a stupid, broken magic stick.
The Witch instantly covered her shock with a sneer. "You rise... only to fall again," she taunted, a smirk growing on her face. "That is your destiny. You can call this land yours all you want, but, just like your father, you will never be fit to rule it."
Ella said nothing, but returned the icy glare given to her. However, before the young blond prince could even react or even think how to, the girl whose life he feared for suddenly reminded him why he felt for her the way he did when she unexpectedly threw her head back for a split second before throwing it forward, letting it collide with the Witch's.
"And what— you're meant to rule Narnia? Please, don't make me laugh." Ella growled as she unsheathe her sword. "I may not be the best thing that's ever happened to this land, but what have you ever done to even be considered a good ruler? Huh? The first thing you must know about being a queen is that you must, first and foremost, be noble, selfless. You're not selfless at all. In fact, you're a selfish bitch. Pigs would be flying if anyone ever admitted you to be trusting and faithful because you sure as hell are not, nor are you humble, even less kind and admirable. The only reason your soldiers 'respect' you is because they were afraid you'd do some of your Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo if they didn't obey you. But now—"
Ella smirked as she pointed her sword at the Witch, all the while trying to pull the broken wand out of her torso, only managing to break the already broken stick in half, the half she wasn't holding remaining inches above her hip. It hurt to have it in there, but she couldn't let that stop her from what she was planning to do.
"I'm going to end it." Ella knew the worst way to fight was out of anger, but, at this point, that was the only thing that was going to get the job done. "I'm going to end you."
And Ella swung forward, letting her sword clash with the one the Witch was holding, which the princess did not fail to recognize as Edmund's.
From across the crossed blades, Ella looked at the Witch with a piercing gaze and, for a brief moment, she could see uncertainty in her opponent's eyes. She felt grateful for the advantage.
Advancing. Advancing. The Witch charged at her with the Narnian blade upheld, going to her foreswing and following it with a backswing. Ella dodged the first and met the second with her broadsword. The weight of the thing sent Witch's stolen blade back, back, back... but not far enough to knock the blade free of his hands.
Striking. This arcing shot sliced the thick material of Ella's chest plate at the midsection. It missed the flesh behind it by perhaps a centimeter.
The Witch staggered, then swung again, but her broadsword missed, though not close enough to eat fabric. The Witch managed a smirk, this time at the spryness of her dodge. Ella had to admit it was impressive, but this time, the sight only made her angrier.
Swing. Swing. Swing. The first two missed badly, but the third, a backswing off the one before it, found flesh. The heavy broadsword ate through the Witch as easily as air, though as soon as her blade hit its target, another, smaller blade pierced through Ella's side, barely an inch away from where a long bit of the Witch's broken wand was embedded.
Ella instantly let out an igonized scream that seem to freeze Edmund more where he lay on the spot.
Quickly glancing behind her, Ella called out to a Faun close by and ordered him to take Edmund, find Peter and get them both out of there. After getting over his initial shock of seeing the princess alive, he couldn't help but hesitate, not wanting to leave her at the Witch's mercy, but after one hard glare sent his way, he obliged to her order. Edmund began to protest as he was being dragged away from the duel between rulers, but he couldn't find his own strength to pull away and run back.
Ella quickly brought her leg up and kicked Jadis as hard as she could, making her stagger backward a few feet.
Stumbling onto her feet, Ella grasped the hilt of the dagger buried into her side then, with a shriek, she yanked it out and dropped it onto the ground.
"You just don't know when to give up, do you?"
"I can go at this all day," Ella replied.
"Really? because it looks more like you've got nothing else to offer in that pitiful state."
"Oh, believe me, I've got a whole lot more up my sleeve, you frosty bitch," Ella growled before kicking away the Witch's sword then punching her straight in the jaw.
"That's for killing my parents." Another punch was thrown at the now weaponless Witch. "That was for you being the cause of my leaving Narnia." Another kick. "That was for every living being you tortured and killed."
Then she jumped and twirled in the air, throwing a tornado kick at the ice queen, causing her to fly backward.
"And that's for all of Narnia."
The Witch stumbled on her feet, managing to send a puzzled at Ella, though her silent question was answered by Aslan, who, at that precise moment, let out a mighteous roar before leaping upon rock, his roar almost bringing a storm of winds as gusts of it picked up around him, the shine of the sun making his fur practically glow.
"Oh, not you too," Jadis grumbled.
Then, not even a second later, the great Lion leapt from the stone he stood upon and pounced on the 'Queen' of Narnia, doing a number on her with his mighty canines before, and finally, killing her.
Aslan turned around and looked over at Peter.
"It is finished."
"Peter," Susan and Lucy shouted to him.
He turned around and hugged his younger sister. But Susan noticed something quickly.
"Where is Edmund?"
Peter, Susan, and Lucy ran over to the place that he was standing, still sightly petrified from watching Ella fight for his life.
"Edmund!" Susan shouted, quickly shooting an arrow at a dwarf she noticed advancing him.
The three siblings surrounded their brother. Susan took off Edmund's helmet, while Lucy took out a curious looking vial out of her belt after noticing her brother had been injured. Opening the top, she put a single drop of the red liquid into Edmund's mouth.
Edmund coughed once, then twice, and grimaced. "What the bloody hell is that?!"
Rolling his eyes at his younger brother, Peter grabbed Edmund and held him tight.
"When are you going to learn to do as you're told?" Peter said, his voice full of laughter.
Edmund smiled, and the four embraced in a tight circle.
Then, with Aslan's breath and Lucy's cordial much of their army, including General Oreius.
To say Ella was happy would be an understatement. She felt so much joy and relief as she watched many Narnians reunite with their lost loved ones. However, her joy and relief faded as soon as a ruptured feeling burst into her stomach, making it feel like it was on fire.
She almost began to believe there was poison eroding her loosely dangly esophagus as she felt them collide with her other vital organs as they all become touched and affected with what she started to believe was really poison. But how— when had she been poisoned? Could it have been the Witch's dagger?
No, Ella thought as she remembered beginning to feel nauseous before getting stabbed anew. The wand. But how?
Suddenly, she could think no more as her mind shut down completely and her body collapsed onto the ground.
"So that's a magic healing potion," said Edmund, finally grasping what his little sister had just done.
Lucy giggled. "Yes, Edmund." She then glanced around, but soon found herself frowning. "Has anyone seen Ella?"
Noticing, too, that the girl was missing Edmund glanced around, his face mirroring his sister's frown.
"She was just with us a moment ago," said Susan.
Suddenly, a voice caught their attention. "Hiril vuin! Echuio, An ngell nîn," (My lady, wake up, please) cried Borneth, grabbing Ella into her arms and desperately shaking her. "Ella... Please..." She then looked around. "Rehta! Aliquis, rehta!" (Help! Somebody, help!)
Peter didn't wait any longer before he sprinted toward the elleth and the fallen princess. As soon ad he reached them, he dropped to his knees and carefully pulled Ella from Borneth's arms, gently cradling the unconscious girl in one arm.
"Eleanor!" he muttered, shaking her slightly. "Ella― don't be dead― please don't be dead..."
He flung his sword aside, grabbed Ella by the shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was so pale, it was frightening to see, but he couldn't look away, not even when Raina and Egleriel rushed over to see what was wrong with Ella.
Lucy stepped forward and got onto her knees while uncapping vial that contained the red healing liquid. She leaned forward then poured a drop that fell straight into Ella's mouth through her parted plump lips.
They waited a few seconds, all tense as they waited for the potion to take effect, but after almost a whole minute, nothing happened.
"Why isn't it working?" Edmund asked.
Lucy stared down at Ella's unconscious form with horrified eyes. "I-I don't know," she whispered, frightened.
"I don't understand," mumbled Susan. "She was standing only a moment ago..."
"Ella, please wake up," Peter muttered desperately, shaking her. Ella's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.
Suddenly, one of the Aldaelon twins gasped, catching the attention of the Pevensies.
"Tell us, Raina, what is the verdict?" asked Aslan, slightly startling them all; no one had noticed him approach them.
The girl had a panicked look on her face as she looked at the King before shifting her gaze downward. All following her gaze, they finally noticed the elleth had removed the princess' chestplate that revealed her black shirt, which Raina had lifted when she had searched for fatal injuries.
There, on her pale skin were two cuts— one clearly caused by a dagger, while the other one was rather uglier with a piece of the Witch's broken wand sticking out from it. Surrounding the hideous wound was what appeared to be her veins that almost looked as though they had been injected with black ink. The black veins kept slowly appearing, one by one connecting in a way that made it clear was heading for her heart.
"Oh, no," mumbled Egleriel as she reached over and quickly, yet carefully pulled the wand's remaining piece out of Ella, making the hole it had created gush out a thick black liquid of sorts.
"What's happening? Why is it like that?" Susan asked, eyes wide with fright.
"The wand," said Borneth as she was the magic expert in her family. "Although it was already broken when the princess was stabbed with it, a bit of magic still remained within it."
"Black magic?" Raina asked.
Borneth nodded. "And Princess Erella is a creation of pure white magic— the complete opposite of Dark Arts."
"I don't understand," Lucy whimpered, taking hold of Susan's hand who squeezed hers back comfortingly.
"Black magic is poison to creatures, like us, who wield its opposite. The magic in the wand did this to Erella."
"It's killing her," Edmund realized. Peter looked up, alarmed, his arms subconsciously tightening around Ella.
"Then it must be removed," said Gwaindir as he walked over to them, having overheard the entire conversation.
"It's not that simple," said Egleriel.
"Well then make it simple," snapped the elf. It was rather strange seeing him act up like that especially since he was an elf, but it was understandable.
"At ease, knight," said Aslan.
The Lion then roared out to a few Griffina. The creatures swooped down and one was ordered to take Ella to Cair Paravel, while the others were told to take the Aldaelon sisters and the Pevensies.
Once at the castle, Ella was taken into a room, where no one could enter but the twin elleths.
When they were finally let in, the Pevensies felt relieved that she would be alright, but saddened at her appearance as she remained unconscious on her bed.
Her brown had been let out of her braid and fell in lovely curls down her chest, her skin looked smoother, but it was still completely pale, almost as white as snow. You would've thought she was dead... if it weren't for her blazing temperature, but...
"Don't worry, Ella," Peter said softly after he was left alone with Ella.
Eyes tender as they gazed down at her, he reached a hand out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes before letting the back of his hand caress her cheek.
"You'll be alright," he continued. "We won. There's nothing to worry about now... just you getting better, so we can celebrate our victory."
He then leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Get better, Princess Ella," he whispered before straightening himself and walking out of the room to get himself some rest after their satisfying triumph.