𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍 || 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 [ I ]

Chapter 20

Muriel had been right, like her, Peter did most certainly not agree with Caspian. Luckily this time, it wasn't something they both got angry about.

"This is not what I meant, this is my fight."

Muriel shortly made eye contact with Peter as they both listened to Caspian. The Prince kept insisting that he had to be the one to fight Miraz, not Peter. Not because he didn't trust the High King, no he trusted the Pevensies with his life, but because he thought this was not fair, Miraz was his uncle and Caspian felt responsible. Muriel thought he had a point, but she shared the same opinion as Peter. Both thought that it was best if Peter fought the Telmarine King.

"I think we've already tried that," said the High King as they rounded a corner. Muriel cleared her throat and Peter sighed. "Look, if there's ever going to be peace with the Telmarines you have to be the one who brings it."

"How can I if you won't let me?"

"Not like this," spoke Peter gently, trying to get his point across, "if I don't make it then Narnia's future is in your hands."

Now Muriel could see why Peter was called the Magnificent. This part was what made him such a good High King, caring for others, caring so much about Narnia. But did he care about himself? "What about your own future?"

The High King looked at the girl and shrugged. "I was thinking about a career in medicine."

His answer intrigued Muriel. She didn't know much about the world the Pevensies were from, only that they gave you penny's for your thoughts or something along those lines. So it made her all the more curious to discover more about the things they knew about medicine. Muriel knew a few things about medicine herself, mostly because she loved studying the plants in her garden.

But she had to question Peter about those things later when there was time, now they had to prepare for battle.

Trumpkin, Reepicheep and the oldest of the Bulgy Bears, the one that Muriel had spoken to before, stood around a low table. It was what was on the table that caught their attention, it was Peter's armour. The King stared at it for a moment before taking the helmet that was offered to him by Trumpkin.

"Your Highness?"

Peter looked up, it was the Bulgy Bear that had spoken. "Yes?"

"I'm a bear, I am," stated the bear. Muriel had to hide a smile, from what she'd learned from their last encounter the bear had not much conversation skills.

"And a fine one, I'm sure." Peter turned around, looking for a piece of armour that wasn't on the table. But the bear raised a paw, stuttering his next words carefully so that Peter would turn around.

"B-begging your pardon, but tradition holds that you pick your Marshals of the List."

Muriel raised an eyebrow at the title. She knew little about the tradition, but she'd heard her brothers talk about it once. The Marshals of the List would help arrange the duel and see to it that the fight went fairly. Muriel smiled as she remembered one of the outstanding things her brothers had discussed when speaking of the Narnian tradition: it was customary for at least one bear to be a Marshal.

She balanced her weight on the tip of her toes and then leaned back on her heels. She grinned, "he's right, you need to chose your seconds."

Peter glanced at her from over his shoulder, given her a pointed look for siding with the bear. She smiled teasingly at him in return, only stopping when she felt Caspian jab her side.

"Well, don't let him," scoffed Trumpkin as he nodded at the bear, "he just falls asleep and sucks his paws."

"Sire," Peter glanced at Reepicheep when he spoke, "my life is forever at your command but I have thought perhaps I might be set for this challenge."