All right, I finally got around to updating! This chapter is the big battle scene. I had to watch the movie a few times to analyze the techniques used in the battle. I did change it, though. I made the fight fit more to my storyline. :] Hey, that't the way I want it though.
To all the Twilight fans out there, I have writted a series of one-shots and a mulit-chapter piece that aren't getting much love. They feature Jasper Hale, with Alice in tow, the most, as well as a few for Seth Clearwater and Jacob Black. I would love to hear from you guys, my wonderful Narnia readers, in that genre. Check it out if you get a chance!
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia belongs to C.S. Lewis. I am not C.S. Lewis. As such, this is not mine.
Negotiations
Chapter Eight
Ching. Metal clashed against metal; king against king. The heat of the afternoon sun was unbearable. Here and there, small clouds spotted the endless azure skies. Sweat poured down Peter's face and his breath was coming in heavy pants. He wasn't used to the stamina needed to battle or the weight of the armor. He slung his sword from side to side, the feeling familiar and practiced. Peter was not about to let this man get away from him alive.
Suddenly and savagely, Miraz cut down through the air at the tiring younger king. Peter stumbled backward from the force of the particularly powerful blow. With a wicked laugh, Miraz began to circle Peter, leering triumphantly..
"You remind me of your brother, King Peter. You pretend to be strong and defiant, but once the shell has been broken, you'll crumble. He was really quite pathetic. Such a pity that he had to d-"
Peter lunged at him. Soaring into the air, the fair-haired king longed to see the crimson that pulsed inside Miraz to spill across the battlefield. This man had dared to harm his brother. Peter wished he could see the vacant eyes of this despicable man, dead and lifeless, as he lay with a blade through his heart on the barren battlefield. Miraz would not live to see another day.
His blade sliced through Miraz's defenses with ease. The Telmarine king had been unprepared. The chain mail snapped under the pressure of Peter's attack and blood seeped from the wound. Ripping it out of Miraz's stomach, where the sword had struck, Peter watched as the sadistic king crumpled forward. Crying out in agony, Miraz had been defeated.
The Narnians erupted in delight. Their king had done it. But Peter wasn't satisfied. Miraz was still alive. Advancing with the intent to kill, Peter stood over Miraz. Hands steady, Peter lifted his sword above the heart of the defeated king.
'He deserves this,' Peter thought. Eyes shooting holes in the back of Miraz's head, the Magnificent king leveled the weapon and. . . no. Peter couldn't do that. What would that make him? He would be no better than Miraz. Revenge never got anyone anywhere.
"Your blood is not worth my time," Peter spat. Lowering his arms back to his side, he turned to his people. Pasting on the biggest grin he could find, he raised his fist into the air. "Long live Narnia!"
Stepping lightly on the bright green grass that speckled with grey stone, Peter removed his helmet, handing it off to a bear that stood at the ready nearby, and leaned his weight against on of the large stones that surrounded area. It was a relief to be able to breathe again.
"Long live King Peter!" a familiar voice called from the tree line. Caspian emerged from the shadows. Marching toward the Narnians, Caspian turned to Peter. "I kept my promise."
Wheeling the horse around, Peter was met with the expectant eyes of his brother. Gingerly dismounting the horse, Edmund was immediately enveloped in Peter's arms. Sure it hurt, but it was worth it.
"Edmund, are you alright?" Peter questioned him without releasing the boy from his arms.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Edmund replied firmly.
Holding his brother out at arm's length by his shoulders, Peter looked him over. Edmund's body was littered with bruises and bandages. The blonde king did not want to think about what could be underneath the bundles of white. The younger had no shirt and shackles were clasped firmly around his bloodied wrists.
"I suppose you'll never admit otherwise," Peter chuckled. "Oh, Edmund," he said. "I've missed you so much."
The Telmarines were silent. Stunned at the loss that they had suffered, the soldiers were clueless as to what they should do. Sopespian reared around in fury when he saw Edmund and Caspian appear. "Arm yourselves! Prepare for battle!"
The Narnians reacted to the command as quickly as the Telmarines had. Peter raced back to the How, Edmund and Caspian in tow. "Get ready!" Peter cried.
Both armies rumbled in anticipation.
"These animals murdered our king! Take them in honor of the great King Miraz!" Sopespian shouted. Telmarines began to march forward, their eyes filled with brain-washed passion: mindless killing machines.
The Narnians watched as the Telmarines approached. They stood tall, despite the overwhelming odds. Peter took his position at the front. Edmund stood to his right, sword drawn, and Caspian set his bow on Peter's left. "For Aslan and for Narnia!" they shouted in unison.
The soldiers slammed into each other, clawing at the skin of their opponents. They dug their blades into the flesh and launched their arrows at the heart. Blinded by the blood of their brothers, Narnians and Telmarines plunged into battle, killing whoever dared to get too close. After all, war is a bloody affair.
Edmund's body ached. It screamed at him with every movement, but he chose to ignore it. His country was worth more to him than a little pain. He watched the eyes of every man that lay dead on the battlefield, slain by his blade.
Edmund knew that they did not expect to live; their passion wasn't for their king, or even their country, but for their freedom. But these men had become so blind to what freedom really meant, they didn't know how to find it; how to fight for it.
The numbers of the Telmarine force slowly began to decrease. Bodies were everywhere Edmund looked; forgotten in the panic. He watched his people strike down Telmarine after Telmarine, but the bodies were Narnians, too. Unlike the soldiers that had formerly been under Miraz, Edmund would see to it that they were properly buried and honored for their devotion.
The Telmarine forces had retreated to the river and the terrain shifted from grass to pebbles. Heading the aerial attack, Susan and Caspian chased after diligently, bows prepared to fire.
Susan had never fought so hard. These men had allowed their king to torture her little brother. She would never forgive their retched deeds. Caspian was next to her, watching as she ripped through the soldiers like they were paper, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind her. Queen Susan did not take lightly to those who threatened her family.
The Telmarine prince recognized the faces of those men he fought. They had been his men. He had to shove himself forward, against the very boys he had had grown up with.
A deafening, rumbling roar broke through the cries and shouts of war. The clear blue skies and sleeping trees shook and the soldiers fell silent.
Aslan.
Lucy stood at the end of the bridge, hands tangled in the great lion's mane. Smiling, proud of her achievement, drew her dagger from her belt. Brushing her hair from her forehead, she raised it to what was left of the Telmarine army. Aslan let loose a low grumble and the Telmarines retreated slowly. Even the tides of the clear, blue river seemed to recede in his presence.
No one dared to challenge the glorious beast. No one, that it, except Sopespian.
Stomping forward on his onyx steed, he said to his men, "This 'Aslan' is no more than the incompetent animals that you brave soldiers have conquered today. He is no match for your superiority! Telmar will triumph!"
But the soldiers did not budge.
"My children, this man and his successors have corrupted your minds with greed and unjustified hatred. Will you allow him to convince you to turn against me?" Aslan said in a deep and complacent tone. He meant no harm to those who would choose peace over bloodshed.
The Telmarines stared dumbly at the lion, but did not move.
Sopespian began to frantically trot in circles. His men had abandoned him.
"Cowards!" he cried.
Aslan leapt forward, leaving Lucy at the end of the bridge, and faced Sopespian.
"It is not cowardly to do what you know is right."
Sopespian gawked at the golden being in front of him, glaring hostilely. He refused to be ridiculed by this barbarian. Retrieving the sword from its sheath in an instant, he lowered the blade to Aslan's heart. With a shout, he plunged the sword into the great king's chest.
Don't worry. I have the next chapter written and it will be up soon. Maybe next weekend?