Chapter Four:

The Training Arena

Shortly after breakfast, the guards instructed the crowd to head out to the underground arena, past the now-opened trapdoors. As Frodo followed Edmund and Lucy out of the food pavilion, he noticed the penguins were staring at him, giving him curious looks. He avoided their gazes, including those from other animals and people, as he made his way through the crowd.

Frodo had arrived at a wide opening, standing under a hill, when he was stopped by a few guards, who told him to head to a smaller trapdoor. Just as he protested about following the crowd, Frodo was dragged off to the side by a firm hand. He whirled around fast when he saw the hand belonged to a raven-haired boy in his late teens, who wore pants, black shoes, a T-shirt, and a fleece jacket over the T-shirt. In one of his pockets, Frodo saw the hilt of a polished wood stick.

Once they were away from the guards, Frodo asked, "Thank you, but why would you…"

The boy wasn't listening. He asked, frustrated, "What were you trying to pull back there? Those are Aslan's soldiers. They guard this Camp well, if you didn't notice."

"I did notice. Who are you?" asked Frodo, stopping the boy in his tracks.

"Oh, sorry," said the boy. He introduced himself, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. You must be the Halfling Aslan sent. Word has spread like wildfire about your arrival."

"I'm sure word has spread about me," muttered Frodo. He apologized in seconds, "Forgive me. I'm Frodo Baggins."

"Oh, the Ring-bearer," said Harry. He recovered, quickly, "Edmund Pevensie spoke of you. I guess I overheard him and his sister talking about you last night." Seconds passed when he and Frodo watched the Adelie penguins head inside the narrow opening, with Mumble waddling after them. Returning his gaze to Frodo, Harry told him, "Come on. The crowd is expecting us."

"Wait, you're headed this way, too?" asked Frodo, cautious.

"I might as well see if I can handle a sword before those villains. Besides, there is a good chance that Voldemort might return from the dead, or so the rumors say," admitted Harry.

Frodo asked, confused, "Who?"

"That's right. He was after your time," said Harry, casually. He led Frodo in the opening and down a narrow tunnel, where they came out into a large underground armory. "The arena's through the next tunnel. I suggest you grab as much gear and weapons as you can. I'll see you out there." He took off in search of his weapons, as well as his friends.

Frodo, once he found Sting in its leather sheath and the mithril-shirt, which Bilbo gave to him at Rivendell, he looked around the armory to see who was training with him in the arena. As it turned out, Harry Potter and Edmund Pevensie grabbed their gear and stepped out into the arena, using the nearest arched, narrow entrance. To his left, Frodo saw a fluffy Emperor Penguin – he guessed was Mumble – and two lions approach another entrance. Before a few more heroes entered the arena, Frodo followed them out through a secondary narrow tunnel that was almost completely dark, save for a few cracks in the ceiling.

When he at last found the tunnel's exit, Frodo came out into an underground arena. A white canvas ceiling covered the bright morning sunlight, enough so there was still light beaming down on the arena's ground floor and the wooden stands. Frodo looked nervously at the animals and people seated in the rows, cheering for a certain number of heroes. He nearly left the arena when a hand grabbed his wrist, forcing him to be dragged by Lucy to a line of wooden benches, where her brother Edmund seemed prepared to train.

As he sat down on a wooden bench, next to Lucy, Frodo made an excuse, "I should leave… now and return home, before Sam thinks of selling Bag End…"

"Frodo, relax," said Lucy, pulling Frodo back. "I'm sure Aslan won't call you out there to train with the other heroes."

"Do you honestly call this training? What is the point of having a crowd present?" asked Frodo, bewildered.

"The animals decided this many years ago, back when the first heroes were sent to the Evenshire Camp," explained Edmund. "They agreed to have a certain number of heroes train a few days per week, and then switch off through the weeks until they were capable of facing their worst enemies. For me, Lucy and Eustace, our enemy is Jadis, the White Witch."

"You mean the animals chose to watch us… heroes train as a sport or an entertainment?" asked Frodo, growing further nervous.

Edmund replied, "No, no, of course not. What I mean is, for a few days, you become the spectator, and, on other days, you have to fight in the arena. This happens every day, and it's not like anyone else in the Camp has errands or other tasks to complete."

"That's barbaric," admitted Frodo, feeling woozy.

"Maybe Frodo has a point, Edmund," said Lucy in agreement. "Shouldn't we tell Aslan to stop this before…?"

"Lu, I don't think we can. The animals had this up and running for years. It's not as if someone like us can stand up to them. Besides, the animals that began this… spectator sport avoid conversing with anyone human, or humanoid," muttered Edmund, speaking low.

"Someone should," said Frodo, being serious. Noticing Lucy's disbelieving look across her face, Frodo told her, "I'm serious, Lucy. Someone needs to…"

However, Frodo was cut off by Edmund' shushing. "Aslan is about to make a speech. This may be important."

Muttering, Frodo told Edmund in disbelief, "I don't see how you can…" He was cut off again by another shush from Edmund, but also from Lucy.

Once the assembly was silent, Aslan announced from the arena's centre, "Heroes, I have an announcement to make, before we begin the regular training sessions. For the first time, the selected heroes to train in the arena for the next two hours will face, none other, than the Ring-bearer, who destroyed the One Ring and defeated the Dark Lord Sauron. Both reside in Middle-earth, a prehistory world of Earth's, before its lands split centuries later."

Facing Frodo with a sharp gaze, Aslan told all in unison, "The reason I have selected him to be first to train with our heroes is for a theory, which a few of our heroes have agreed may be accurate. The villains, after they annihilate the Halfling race, intend to annihilate as many races as they can, causing good magic to die and leave the Race of Men without any reason for hope, peace, justice, and truth that we truly exist. I know the stakes are high, but without Frodo Baggins, who represents all the Halflings – not only in Middle-earth, but in other worlds – we leave all our worlds to the villains. Of course, that is a theory."

Returning his gaze to Frodo, Aslan said, "Frodo, come forward." He waited and watched until the hobbit stood next to him. Turning to the audience, in the stands and seated on benches, Aslan asked, out loud, "Who will be brave enough to train this young Hobbit, or Halfling? I know he doesn't look like much of a challenge, but he is brave, clever, and…"

"Oh, enough already!" shouted Amor the hedgehog, from the front-row stands. "When do we get to see some real action, Aslan? You plan to train this whelp against a mass of the evilest villains and villainesses, known amongst us heroes? You're cheating us, Aslan!"

"As you cheat yourselves!" shouted Frodo, fed up with the insults. He inquired, directly to the hedgehog, "You think that, because you're an animal, you can tell me what to do?"

The hedgehog chuckled in disbelief, "And you, as a Halfling, can do better? I would like to see you try…" His path was blocked by Reepicheep. "Let me go, Reep…"

"Not yet. We still haven't seen what this young Hobbit can do. And unless you want to duel me later, Amor, then you had better sit down and think about how you can better yourself," warned Reepicheep, glaring at the hedgehog.

Ignoring the large mouse, Amor asked himself, "Where is that cat with the food trolley?" He ran across the stands in seconds.

As Frodo's gaze turned hard towards Aslan, he and the Lion heard from the benches, "I will face him!" To Frodo's surprise, he saw Edmund stand up and approach Aslan. "I have fought in many wars." He then told Frodo, direct, "I know I'm as capable as you with a sword."

"Very well," said Aslan in agreement. "Edmund Pevensie, you will train Frodo Baggins until he is ready. Then, allow him to face Harry Potter, when he has become capable of handling a sword properly." Facing Harry, Aslan told him, aloud and direct, "Harry, you will face another wizard, Gandalf the White." He ignored Frodo, as the hobbit stared stunned at Harry. Aslan continued to speak to boy wizard, "I hope that isn't a problem."

Harry shook his head. "No, but you said Gandalf has more experience than me and he is very powerful with spells, charms, and curses."

"And that is why I have decided to train you, Harry Potter," said Gandalf, entering the arena, but not without receiving cries and loud gasps from the audience in the stands.

"Well, if everyone is training Frodo Baggins and Harry Potter, then who will teach us how to fight like proper penguins?" asked Ramón, loud and abruptly. Moving towards the center of the arena, Ramón asked the audience, "I tell you all, is this fair? If anyone deserves to face anyone, it should be Ramón, or Lovelace, or even Mumble Happyfeet." As the crowd screamed 'no', Ramón continued his speech. "Yes Mumble Happyfeet should be trained like all these other 'big name' heroes."

"Ramón, come back here!" shouted Mumble in a serious tone.

"Wait boss, I am not finished yet. You will have your turn in a minute." Ramón returned his gaze to the audience. "Listen to me: I know that all of you think size is daunting, but I can assure you that you will not be disappointed. Let Mumble face these 'big name' heroes, unless you allow Ramón to face the ladies." As he attempted to coax the women in the stands to love him more than other heroes, Ramón was forced off to the side by Mumble, who slid him back with his grayish-black foot.

In spite of Mumble's attempts at apologizing, in which he received many boos, insults, and threats from the animals in the stands, Aslan declared to all, in unison, "It seems, Mumble Happyfeet, your friend Ramón has made a strong point. Mumble, you will train amongst the lions, but only one will train with you solo, in case you ever need to face-off against any predators, more vicious than us."

"Does that mean you, Aslan?" asked Mumble, concerned.

Aslan chuckled merrily. "No, of course not me, but the lions sitting next to the benches. All I ask is that you choose which predator to face during the training sessions."

Mumble thought hard, until he saw the dark-furred lion seated next to the red mane lion. "What about him, the lion with the dark fur?"

"Kovu?" asked red mane lion in disbelief. Facing the Emperor Penguin, the lion made an excuse. "I am sorry, but Kovu and I are more than capable of looking for meatier prey…"

"Simba, I don't mind. I'll train the fuzz ball on how to avoid being caught by predators," admitted Kovu, standing up and approaching Aslan in moments.

Aslan nodded. "You have made a wise choice, Kovu. Mumble is as brave a penguin as anyone, and he tap dances exceptionally well. Good luck. You will need plenty."

Facing the rest of the heroes in the arena, Aslan said aloud, "The rest of you will not train today. I do ask Anakin Skywalker to stay and mediate between the three groups of heroes training this morning, as you have done in the past for previous heroes. Should any of these groups train past two hours, tell them to stop and take a break. Since Frodo is new, I suggest at least four hours of training today, for him, and an hour break between two hours." He finished his speech. "I leave you to today's training session." He left the arena through a wider tunnel, but not without looking back and seeing Simba catch up to him.

Several seconds passed before Eustace entered the arena. He was welcomed by boos and insults that came from a majority of animals.

Reepicheep, looking in awe and bewilderment, asked himself, "Is this really necessary? A pathetic bunch of mongrels, I call this crazed group." He pushed past a group of white mice, as he declared, "Excuse me! Pardon me, but I must see if Eustace needs my brave and noble assistance." He leapt off the stands as he ran towards Eustace, who already found a seat next to his cousin.

As Reepicheep approached the sandy haired boy, Eustace admitted in disgust, "I have never been so insulted in my life."

"I agree with you, Eustace. Whoever let this majority rule the Evenshire Camp needs to change their race name to something more suited to their taste for vulgar insults," exclaimed Reepicheep, glaring at the majority of animals as he fought back with words.

Turning to Lucy, Eustace asked, once the animal noise calmed down, "What did I miss?"

"You won't believe this. Edmund is training Frodo. I hope Frodo's learned how to fight with a sword," explained Lucy.

Sarcastically, Eustace thought aloud, "Of course. Why didn't I think about letting my cousin face someone half his height?" He muttered, "Where's the sport?"

The training began a few seconds after Frodo, Edmund, Harry, and Gandalf pulled out their swords from their sheaths. In spite of Harry and Gandalf facing off in mortal combat – which Harry right away lost, was beaten up, and bruised for the first hour – and Mumble's tap dancing slaps against Kovu's fierce pouncing techniques, Eustace, Lucy, and Reepicheep's gazes were fixed extremely well on Frodo's training with Edmund. They weren't the only ones watching Edmund and Frodo. Much to Amor's disbelieves and wild ranting, members of the audience – all of them heroes – now turned towards the center group, where it seemed Edmund outweighed Frodo in swordfight training.

Many did not notice the tall man, with curly, brownish-blonde hair, cropped in a mullet, robed all in raven, as well as a raven-colored cloak, stop the three groups after the first hour with a clear, resonating, deep voice. As Harry and Gandalf parted ways for fifteen minutes, sitting down to catch their breaths, with Kovu and Mumble muttering soft words that Frodo caught unawares, Frodo kept his gaze on the strange tall man as he approached Kovu and Mumble, but not before the tall man raised an eyebrow at Frodo and Edmund.

Glancing at Edmund, Frodo asked, gesturing towards the tall man in the raven-colored robes, "What is his name?"

"Aslan said he is Anakin Skywalker," admitted Edmund, also confused. "Word around the Camp says he arrived this morning. Aslan must have decided not to leave out the Jedi."

Frodo asked in confusion, "The what?"

"Exactly," said Edmund in agreement. "I'm sure Anakin can explain what a Jedi is and does for a living. Hopefully, he has a good reason for staying at the Camp."

"He doesn't look very friendly," admitted Frodo, in a low mutter. He ended the conversation as the Jedi approached him and the human teenager.

When Anakin stood before Edmund and Frodo, he nodded and addressed them, politely. His gaze stayed on Frodo as he spoke, "I heard there was a Halfling in the Evenshire Camp, but a Ring-bearer destined to destroy a ring of immense dark power? It's unheard of in my galaxy."

"I'm sure it is," muttered Frodo, hoping the Jedi did not hear him speak.

Changing the subject, Edmund asked, attempting to get Anakin's attention, "So, were you going to tell us about Jedi?"

"All in good time," replied Anakin, happily. Facing Frodo, Anakin told him and Edmund, "I watched you two, more than the others." He paused. Choosing his words carefully, Anakin said, "I saw how you allowed your opponent to strike you down. That won't do when you face the villains…"

"Look, I don't need you to instruct me how to wield a sword," said Frodo, tensely.

Anakin nodded. "All right, but I suggest you fight your opponent with more aggression."

Frodo answered, "Thank you, but I should be fine without your aide." He watched Anakin nod in silence, and then leave him and Edmund alone. Frodo asked Edmund, keeping his gaze fixed on Anakin, "What is his problem?"

"I can't be sure," admitted Edmund, casually, "but he has a point about you. You need to focus on the fight, instead of keeping your thoughts on other issues."

"Yes, but I have seen a few battles in my life. The burden overpowered my fighting skills," admitted Frodo, groaning.

"Yes but here, you need to keep your head focused on your opponent and not at home," said Edmund, a little stern.

Frodo smirked at this statement. "Edmund, the only time you'll provoke me to fight is if you coaxed me to a real duel."

"Can't we settle this with training? If you asked me to fight you in a real duel…"

"Exactly, and I cannot risk slaying an ally. That would hurt me worse than the One Ring," admitted Frodo, serious now.

"Come on. The fifteen-minute break is up," said Edmund, preparing for round two.

However, Frodo sheathed his sword. As he walked away, he heard Edmund and heroes in the stands loudly cry to him to continue training. That did not stop the hobbit from walking towards the wide, arched tunnel. Before Frodo could reach the tunnel's entrance, he was grabbed, dragged back to the arena's center, and thrown to the ground by Edmund. After a fierce tumble towards the arena's dirt-and-pebbled ground, Frodo recovered from the blow, before he stood up and brushed the dirt off his breeches.

Frodo cried, bewildered, "What was that for?"

"Come on, Frodo. Training isn't over for another three hours," admitted Edmund, coaxing Frodo to challenge him to another duel.

The second Frodo pulled out Sting from its leather sheath, he returned to dueling against Edmund. The training between Frodo and Edmund, Harry and Gandalf, and Kovu and Mumble continued for another hour. Anakin observed from the sidelines as each person and animal attempted to outdo the other in sword, claw, or flipper-and-feet skills.

Outside the arena, Simba managed to catch up to Aslan, long enough to spur a short conversation. Simba, still wondering how Aslan knew his father Mufasa, the deceased Lion King of the Pridelands, decided to seek out some answers.

Simba broke the silence and asked the Great Lion, "Aslan, I'm sure you couldn't know my father. Mufasa has been dead for a long time."

"I know your father well. I know him better than you think, Simba," answered Aslan, keeping his deep voice firm and steady.

"I am already aware of that. You told me this, before Kovu and me…"

Aslan interrupted, sternly, "Would you care to discuss this in front of the assembly of heroes? I know your father Mufasa and that is all I will say." He ended their conversation. "Now I suggest you head back inside. Kovu may need your assistance. Mumble may outdo him in dance, but not pouncing." He looked away as Simba gloated, before heading back through the wide tunnel entrance.