chapter five ~ the last firesong

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"Our resources here are extremely limited, Your Majesty. We're almost out of armour materials; we don't have enough weapons to arm all of our soldiers," one of the Dwarf blacksmiths grumbled.

Caspian turned to Nimueh. "Is there anywhere we can get more weapons, or at least the means to make more?"

"When I passed through Beruna, there were men of the King building a bridge, and soldiers too. There are bound to be weapons there," she said. "It isn't far. Less than a day's travel."

Caspian smiled gratefully. "I'll go myself, and would be glad if you would accompany me, Lady Firesong."

"Of course." She bowed to him, tugging at her leather armour.

"Would it not be best if the General remains with the army?" asked the Dwarf.

Nimueh smiled kindly. "I have spoken at length with Glenstorm the Centaur, and it seems that you will do fine until we return. I am, first and foremost, a Lady of action and do not do well cooped up in underground tunnels."

"Should we leave straight away," asked Caspian.

"No. Take some time to select your best soldiers and we'll leave around midday. We could lose the element of surprise if we loiter in the woods during daylight hours."

After Aslan was killed on the Stone Table, even after he rose and came to the Battle of Beruna, Nimueh could only bring herself to visit the scene a couple of times. She hadn't thought too much about it when Caspian had brought her there upon arrival, but now that she was alone, her mind had scope to wander.

Nimueh unconsciously fiddled with the pendant and the ring through the fabric of her shirt. Sweeping past her wall carving, she stopped in front of Aslan. She looked up into His stone-carved eyes; they seemed so alive somehow.

"My Lady?" Nimueh turned to see the Badger, Trufflehunter, had entered the cavern. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes." She managed a smile. "Having been away for a while, it'll take a little time to get used to being at war again."

"I see you often fiddling with some sort of necklace. May I see it?" Trufflehunter came closer.

Nimueh sat down on the base of the Stone Table, so that her eyes were level with the Badger's. Tilting her head back, she pulled the necklace cord out of her shirt and untied it. She rested the pendant and the ring on the palm of her hand. "I'm wondering, after all these years, if any of my family might still be alive."

"The Firesong family, residents of Owlwood in the East."

"Yes." And though the glow of the torches flickered in the creature's eyes, Nimueh saw them darken. "There aren't any of us left, are there?"

"I wish I could say you were wrong, my Lady. We haven't heard from the trees in centuries. There's no way of knowing."

Nimueh bowed her head as tears came to her eyes. They burned her cheeks and dripped off the bottom of her chin. She felt her heart sink so low, she was afraid it might disappear altogether. A deep sorrow seemed to bleed out into the air around her.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

"It's alright." Nimueh sniffed. "I suppose I should have known they would be gone someday, slaughtered by Telmarines or not." She paused to wipe away the falling tears. "Did you know of them?"

"I'm a beast," said the Badger. "We don't forget. I have never met any members of the Firesong family until you, but they were famous enough amongst the Narnians of Old. The heads of the family...Asher, Elijah, Yvaine-"

A light laugh escaped her. "Such a curious girl. I knew she would lead them one day. It was Asher who took me under her wing the first few times that I came to Narnia, and then Elijah last time. They took care of me when I had no one. They taught me to take care of myself."

Trufflehunter gently closed a paw over her free hand. "I think they would be very proud of you."

Nimueh nodded. "Thank you."

"And the ring?" he asked softly.

"Yvaine. She gave it to me. It was supposed to be a gift from somebody very close to me. But they were gone before they had the chance to give it."

"You kept it all this time."

"Of course." As the last of her tears dried, Nimueh looked up into the gentle eyes of the Badger. "I don't know what your stories have told you about me, but I get the feeling that a lot of things have been missed out."

"They speak of a warrior, a child of the Prophets of Firesong. But I'm afraid I don't recall anything about a ring."

"It's alright. It's nothing that would have changed Narnian history."

"My Lady, with the greatest respect, if there is anything you want to get off your chest, I am happy to hear it. Is it not better to go into battle with a clear mind?"

"Oh no, of course." Nimueh strained another smile. "You're absolutely right!" She lifted her eyes once more to the depiction of Aslan, trying to blink back what tears now threatened. Then escaped words that she never expected to say but, in doing so, she shed the weight of their meaning. "I don't have anything left to lose." A long silence. "My friends and my family have passed on. I know why I'm here and I so want to help; that is my purpose. But I fear that the only thing holding me together is the hope that I can find what I love most once again."

Trufflehunter bore the distinct glint of a smile in his beady eyes. "Is that such a bad thing? Especially at a time like this, should we not fill ourselves with hope?"

"Perhaps you're right." Nimueh let out a heavy sigh. "Please forgive me. I shouldn't have burdened you with my sorrows."

"No need to apologise, my Lady. I am glad that you trusted me and hope I have provided you with at least some comfort."

Nimueh stood, retying the cord around her neck and tucking it back beneath her shirt. "Thank you for your kindness. Are you to accompany us out?"

"If you wish it, my Lady."

"I should very much like to talk more with you. You must tell me everything that I have missed."

"Very well. I will sort out provisions for the both of us."

"Thank you."

Trufflehunter left Nimueh standing alone, her eyes, once again, moved to transfixion upon Aslan. There was no doubt in her mind as to what she had to do. The time to mourn was not now. The Kings and Queens were on their way. Any grief she had left should be caged away until all was finished.

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || peter pevensie [2]Where stories live. Discover now