Flatline ⤞ Peter Pevensie [2]

xvi

The air outside the how was as thick as blood as Fallon, Peter, and Edmund made their way to the sparring ring.

Fallon's eyes scouted the cheering Narnians, catching glimpses of hope and strength in their eyes. They all depended on Peter to win the duel, and she knew he felt the pressure. If it weren't for the sea of Telmarines staring at them from the other side of the field, she would've held his hand. But, as much as the Huntress despised it, she couldn't show any kind of affection towards the King, not when their enemies were so close by. It would sign Peter's death contract if they knew of them.

Miraz was sitting on a metal chair on the Telmarine side of the sparring ring, a smug look coating his face, as though he thought he'd already won.
But when he turned to speak to his general, Fallon's hearing stretched onto where they were sitting, listening in as Miraz said to Glozelle "if it should appear to be going poorly . . . "
It took every bit of will to keep Fallon from throwing a dagger at the king when he nodded towards the crossbow Glozelle was holding. However, for some reason, she said nothing about it. She knew the Telmarines were dishonest, but she refused to worry Peter more than necessary.

The Narnians cheered as Peter unsheathed his sword. Edmund and Fallon shared a look, both of their faces giving no sing of worry. But they knew better.

Peter stepped into the ring, him and Miraz circling each other like lion and prey.

Miraz's voice made its way through the metal mask. "There is still time to surrender."

Peter's eyes didn't leave his as he answered. "Well, feel free."

Miraz shook his head, almost as if disappointed. "How many more must die for the throne?"

Fallon's eyes caught Peter's for only a second.

"Just one."

And then the swords came crashing onto each other, the sound of the blades crossing and hitting the metal armors filling the air like wind, and cheers erupted around the arena.

As the fight went on, Fallon felt a presence behind her. She turned to find Caspian standing behind her, holding the reins to a horse and a sword newly bound to his belt.

Before the Huntress could ask any questions, the prince spoke. "I can't let Susan and Lucy go alone."

The brunette stared at him for a moment before nodding. Caspian nodded back, a grateful look on his face, and mounted his horse. Before he could leave, however, Fallon grabbed his arm from the ground.

"Caspian," she said, and the Telmarine looked at her with a confused look. "Stay safe. All three of you."

The prince gave her a reassuring look, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, my friend. I will bring them backed unharmed."

With that, he turned and spurred his horse forward, disappearing into the woods.

Fallon turned back to the fight, her eyes widening as she saw Peter's helmet flying to the ground. Her heart clenched in her chest. He wasn't going to lose. He couldn't.
But as Miraz's blade slid awfully close to the King's throat, her mind started to betray her.

Peter cut Miraz's leg in one swift movement, and the girl immediately looked over at Glozelle. The general however, was standing completely still. His crossbow wasn't even loaded. Feeling the girl's stare, the Telmarine's eyes moved to her. His eyes held everything she needed to know.

A bone shattering crack came from the ring, and Fallon gasped as Miraz stepped onto Peter's shield, with his arm still in the straps as it bent far too much. Edmund had already reached for her as she took a step, grabbing her shoulder. The brunette looked at the raven in desperation, but the Pevensie boy only shook his head in warning. She couldn't step in to help—