𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑨𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑, peter pevensie

𝒙𝒍𝒊𝒊𝒊 . . . they fought their wars

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 both Peter and Miraz limping towards each other, choosing to forgo the extra weight of their helmets. Edmund kept his brothers tucked under his arm, while Glozelle simply tossed his King's lazily to the side. Charlotte, now stood in between Susan and Trumpkin, had her bow gripped in her left hand as her right was holding tightly to Susan's. Trumpkin looked, seemingly confused, at the two Queens joined together by the hand and couldn't fathom why two of the strongest figures in Narnian history appeared to be so afraid.

But then he looked back down to where their eyes were focused, not caring the other was leaving small and red crescent moons on their palms or knuckles, on Peter and they winced as he let out a shout of pain. Both Charlotte and Susan tried to appear strong, if not for the Narnians sake then for their own, but it was hard to as each clang of metal meeting metal rang through their ears.

Back down on the ruined monument, Peter was trying to catch Miraz' ankles from where he'd been tripped to the floor, and he'd managed to get back up, locking swords with the Telmarine once more. Miraz made a foolish error, ultimately leading him to drop his sword down into a cracked line of damp moss. He held his shield up to protect his face from the blows being dealt by Peter's sword, and Miraz stumbled backwards a few paces after each swing.

Morale was soaring throughout the crowds of Narnians; they were growing increasingly more rowdy at their clear success, and fast approaching victory. However, the thought of winning was plummeting among the Telmarine ranks, and their once smug faces morphed stoic at the overcast idea of failing to a King half the age of their youngest soldier standing in the back lines of their perfectly formed army.

A silence befell the spectators, and a unified gasp rippled through the two crowds like a shock wave. Narnians in anticipation and Telmarines in horror. Although the tables turned once again in favour of Miraz the Usurper when Peter managed to accidently lodge his sword under his opponents arm. Charlotte took a sharp gasp and heard Susan do the same as their grips simultaneously grew stronger when Miraz's expression twisted quickly from one resembling rage to that of a psychotic enjoyment from seeing the great High King fail.

The two engaged in a duel seemed to be going around and around, never stopping their small, closed off, circle of endless advantages and disadvantages. Some Narnians and Telmarines were glad of the opportunity to stand and observe, while the majority, the rowdier and more impatient members, were aching for an act of treachery to take place so they could enter the messy fray of a battle. Charlotte didn't know where she stood in regards to those grounds, so she kept her mouth clamped shut and her head held up high.

Charlotte had lost all sense of feeling in her hand and she was firm in the belief that Susan was the same, by the time Miraz had retrieved his sword from the ground and swung it down, only for Peter to block it with his gauntlets. Though, a collective cacophony of cheers, shouts, and loud cries of victory descended permanently over the Narnians surrounding the ledges or small, crooked pathways. After a sharp blow to his already injured and bandaged knee, Miraz was kneeling in the middle of the ruins, Peter standing over his with his fist behind his shoulder. "Respite! Respite!"