The High Queen II

Finally on the same page

The Narnians gathered at the tunnel's edge, their faces tense as they watched the Telmarine army assemble in the distance. The sound of marching boots echoed faintly across the plains, a grim reminder of the battle to come. Eleanor lingered in the shadows, her hand resting lightly on the cold stone wall as she observed the scene in silence.

Nearby, Caspian stood with his gaze fixed on the horizon. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders, but something about Eleanor's stillness drew his attention. Without turning to fully face her, he glanced over his shoulder, curiosity flickering in his expression.

"You're not coming out?" he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Eleanor remained where she was, her arms crossed and her eyes never straying from the distant Telmarine ranks. "No," she replied simply, her tone clipped but calm.

Caspian hesitated, sensing there was more behind her answer. After a moment, he spoke again, quieter this time. "Why not?"

At last, Eleanor shifted slightly, just enough to catch his profile out of the corner of her eye. There was a faint edge to her voice, dry and tinged with something darker. "Because Miraz thinks I'm dead."

That caught his attention. Caspian straightened slightly, his brow furrowing in surprise. "Dead?" he repeated, the word heavy with disbelief.

Eleanor gave a small, sardonic smile. "The last time he saw me, I was bleeding out. Telmarines don't know anything that could heal wounds like the ones I had. Being shot three times, I should have died on the spot and I was practically half dead when we left the castle. So, to the telmerains knowledge, I died mid flight and you're all mourning,"

For a moment, Caspian said nothing, his gaze hardening as he considered her words. "So why not let him keep thinking that?" he asked at last.

Eleanor's smirk widened into something sharper, her green eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Part strategy. If he thinks I'm dead, he won't be looking for me. Keeps him overconfident."

She paused, the corner of her mouth quirking upward with a hint of mischief. "And part... I just want to see the look on his face when he realizes I'm not."

Caspian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "Remind me never to make you angry."

Eleanor's expression softened slightly, her voice laced with humor as she replied, "Oh, I'm much nicer to people I like."

"So you like me then?" Caspian asked, trying his luck.

"We need to call a war council," Peter said, his tone serious. "But what do you think? Should we even bother? Or is it too late to make a difference?"

Caspian met Peter's gaze steadily, his confidence tempered with the practicality of a leader who knew the stakes. "I think we should," he said, nodding. "Every decision we make from this point forward could determine whether we survive. The more voices we have weighing in, the better."

Peter's expression relaxed slightly at the affirmation, and he clapped a hand on Caspian's shoulder. "All right, then. Let's get started."

Eleanor smiled slightly, finally they were on the same page.

The tension in the Stone Table room was thick, the air buzzing with the weight of their decisions. The gathered Narnians exchanged uneasy glances as Trumpkin's voice broke the silence.

"Cakes and kettledrums!" he exclaimed, pacing back and forth. "That's your next big plan? Sending a little girl alone into the darkest parts of the forest?"