I'm in Love With The King

Part Two!

When Edmund returns he brings wonderful but terrifying news. Miraz has accepted Peter's challenge to the combat. It will be held right outside the how at 2 o'clock sharp. My heart sinks a small portion as Edmund announces this. This means more danger for Peter. More chance of death. Just as everything looks as if we will all be safe, it looks more like one you hold dearest to. But all I can do is hope and have faith that wherever Aslan is, He is keeping Peter safe.

We eat lunch and Peter goes off to put on his armour. I go and put on my own armour. My sleeves are light chain mail and my top is thick, breathable leather. As Peter comes over to me from putting his armour on, my breath is taken away. His armour gives an air of royalty and makes him seem like he's been in 100 more wars and battles than any of us. Peter almost looks more at home, more comfortable in his metal.

"All ready?" I ask him as he slides his arms around my waist.

"I guess, we just sent Susan and Lucy off, I hope they make it through," Peter sighs.

"Your hands feel funny," I laugh.

On his hands are gloves of metal that only go about halfway up his fingers and they bend with his hand (at least as much as metal will allow). The metal instead of flesh feels weird on my waist.

"You don't like my armour?" Peter pouts.

"No, I don't like it." I say as I trace the gold lion printed on his red shirt. "I love it."

He lays his forehead on mine and I slide my hands up his chest. His chain mail jingles and my sleeves clang as they hit his armour.

"You're not very comfy in it though," I tell him.

"I hope I'll be out of it soon then," he leans in and kisses me.

"Your Majesty, it is time for you to go," a Centaur informs Peter.

"Thank you," Peter nods and takes my hand.

We walk out to the entrance of the How, Edmund is waiting there for us with Peter's helmet in hand. Peter looks Edmund in the eyes as he takes his helmet. I put up Peter's chain mail hood and he puts his helmet on and we walk out to the battle area. The crowd on either side of the path cheers for Peter, but I know no one was cheering louder than I. Inside, I am going crazy, this is my Peter and he is going to win, right? Good always wins over evil, right? Peter has done this before right? Yes.

Peter stands before Miraz. They walk forward about four yards from each other.

"You know there is still time to surrender," Miraz taunts.

"Well, feel free," Peter answers as he slides his face shield down and runs towards Miraz.

For a while, Peter has the upper hand, letting loose a barrage of blows on Miraz's shield and armor. Then Miraz somewhat recovers and pretends to be rather tired, swinging his sword to his left side and panting. Peter sees the opening and unfortunately took it. He swings at his side with a savage cry but Miraz traps his sword between his shield and flips Peter over his shoulder onto the hard, cold stone of the dueling arena. Miraz steps on Peter's shield, twisting his arms back. I gasp and take a step forward. Edmund holds me back. I clutch Edmunds arm and stand behind him, watching from over his shoulder. I pray wildly.

"Respite," I hear Peter say weakly, trying not to sound as if he is begging.

"Three minutes," Miraz hisses.

Peter painfully walks back towards us, clutching his left arm. He sits between Edmund and I, his helmet has been knocked off and Edmund goes to retrieve it. Miraz limps to his side of the arena, rubbing his leg from where Peter scored a hit.