COMPLETED | ❝ Some journeys take us far from home. Some adventures lead us to our destiny. ❞
━ in which a peculiar girl with gifted abilities and natural wit named ophelia wellington finds herself burning the entire world with a single spitefu...
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IN TERMS OF DRAMATIC, they currently couldn't counter it. Because as all of them stood on the terrace of the How, their eyes were focused on the upcoming army of the Telmarines. It was what the returning ten creatures warned them with, bringing the news of whay they should expect. Especially the giant catapults that they had just pulled through the recently restored bridge, making sure that they had well guarded it so that no more ambush shall be done to it.
They had just fortunately finished their training with the Narnians, taking the advice of Ophelia to prepare for this occurrence. Yet they couldn't think to ready themselves at the sight of Miraz's very extra golden armour. To which Edmund gave a quiet snicker at, shaking his head at the thought of his lover's possible opinion towards the matter.
Quickly getting over the surprise, all of them rushed directly to the command room. It immediately begun with Peter spilling out their thought out plans, the other people listening in to what they were supposed to do. Truth be told, it was quite a messy one, holding multiple possibilities that lies only with a little success. But it was what they could only think of, not having anything better to add up.
“Cakes and kettledrums, that's your next big plan?” Trumpkin exclaimed in disbelief, shaking his head while pointing towards the youngest Pevensie. “Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forests? Alone!”
“It's our only chance.” Peter sighed, firm with his decision.
His sister came to his support, speaking out her standing. “And she won't be alone.”
The dwarf's eyes glossed over with tears, walking closer to the girl's form. “H–Haven't enough of us died already?”
“Nikabrik was my friend too, but he lost hope,” Trufflehunter stood from his seat, his words comforting. “Queen Lucy hasn't. And neither have I.”
“For Aslan.” Reepicheep unsheathed his sword, crossing it over his chest. It was seconded by a bear by the side, nodding in agreement. “For Aslan!”
“Then I'm going with you.” Trumpkin spoke in determination.
“No, we need you here.” Lucy smiled sweetly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back,” Peter nodded, his head suddenly turning to Glenstorm's son in the room. “Did Phel mention a certain time of return?”
Rainstone shook his head as an answer, making Peter frown in dismay. From the side of the room, the prince of Telmar shook his head as he dug deep into the words of the girl from his dream.
“If I may . . ,” Caspian successfully gained all of their attention, contemplating before standing up to voice his suggestion. “Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer. But as king, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people,” This seemed to boost all of their confidence, having a mutual understanding of working together as one for the betterment of their reign. “There is one in particular that may buy us some time.”
