32

A PROPER ADDRESS

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Alexandra had walked through the burrows of Aslan's How until she found Edmund and Caspian looking over at the treeline. Both of the royals looked solemn as they conversed, yet to notice her arrival.

"Hey," she spoke and sat between them on the rock ledge and resting the axe over her knees, "I hope I wasn't interrupting."

"Not at all," Caspian smiled and met her eyes, "Edmund was telling me about his world - London he called it. That's where you're from too?"

Alex nodded, "I am from London, only London isn't a world - it is a city within a country within the world we are from. Edmund and I are from Earth. London, the city, is in England, the country, which is on Earth, the world."

Caspian nodded with understanding. "My people are from that world too. They came in ships during a storm, anchored on an island off the coast somewhere in Narnia and had children with the natives. Thus the birth of the Telmarines of Telmar. I'm not proud of where I am from or the anger and destruction of my people. That's why I am proud that I am helping the Narnians. It's the least I can do after all the abuse from my people. I am ashamed that I listened to Nikabrik and those beasts; if I had known what they were trying to do..."

"You are doing much more than you know, Caspian," Edmund caught his attention from the other side of Alex, "You wouldn't have been the first in Narnia to fall victim to the White Witch and her lies."

Edmund looked down in shame.

"She can't hurt us anymore," Alexandra said after some time of silence as she stared out at the trees that shook side to side with the breeze, sometimes looking like humans dancing in the wind. But something else caught her attention.

Caspian opened his mouth to say something until he noticed the look on Alex's face, "What is it?"

"Shh," she muttered and put her palm on the rock, "Do you feel that?"

They both put that hands on the rock and could feel a distant rumble. Just as they felt the rumble, they began to hear even more distant shouts and the stomp of thousands of feet getting closer to the How.

"It's Miraz-" all three said at once, eyes wide.

"Edmund, go get Peter!" Alex ordered and stood to her feet, the two boys standing also. Edmund didn't even reply before he was running to go and get his older brother.

Caspian and Alexandra noticed how they could see the trees returning back to their solemn, natural forces out of fear and the tops of catapults through the forest. Narnians, who must have also felt the rumble, climbed out of the exits of Aslan's How to see if they were under attack; mothers protecting their children by sending them back inside.

"How many wars have you fought?" Caspian asked her as he watched the first row of men enter the field.

"Too many," she replied, noticing his pale frame, "But enough to know that man power is not all an army needs. We may have smaller, less trained forces than Miraz's army. But we are the ones who know what Narnia is capable of. We are the ones with love in our hearts. We are the ones who will win."

He nodded, "At the castle I found out that Ernest didn't make it. But he gave this to my Proffesor to give back to you. He told Cornelius to thank you for giving him hope of a better Narnia for his grandchildren."

He took Alex's hand softly and placed the locket in her palm, closing her fingers around the silver necklace that she had been given my Father Christmas many years ago. The very one that had held the cure to her eternal slumber.

"No," she smiled, "Thank you for giving me hope of a better Narnia."

They both just smiled at each other and heard Peter, Lucy and Edmund's talking getting louder until they were right beside them looking over of the sea of Telmarines that descended from the trees in formation. Their faces were covered in silver masks which, even from their distance, they could tell that they had emotionless faces carved into the masks as to intimidate them during battle.

Alexandra looked up to Peter, taking his hand with her other palm to the one which held her necklace. "We need to come up with a plan."

They all watched as one final soldier centred the field on a white horse (the non-talking kind). They all assumed, besides Caspian who already knew, that it was Miraz.

He nodded before they all descended back into Aslan's How, sending Peanut the squirrel to round up as many of their troops as they could so they could confer and create their battle strategy.

"Cakes and kettledrums? That's your next big plan?" Trumpkin spoke after Peter had just finished running through his idea, one that Alex hand't heard of until the words left his lips minutes ago. "Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest? Alone!"

All eyes were on Lucy after the Dwarf pointed a finger towards the young queen.

"Lucy isn't just a little girl. She is a Queen of Narnia," Alexandra put an arm over Lucy's shoulder, "She is no less than a Queen as you are no less than a trusted advisor and soldier."

"This is our only chance," Peter added.

"And she won't be alone," Susan stepped forward, announcing that she would be going with her only sister.

Trumpkin approached Alex and Lucy, glancing up at the younger of the girls. "Haven't enough of us died already?"

"Nikabrik was my friend too," Trufflehunter approached his dear friend, "But he lost hope and Queen Lucy hasn't. And neither have I."

"Nor have I," Alex smiled weakly down to the dwarf and badger.

"For Aslan!" Reepicheep held his sword over his chest patriotically.

"For Aslan!" the Bulgy Bears repeated in confidence after pulling their paws from their mouths - the very ones that they had been sucking the honey from the whole meeting.

Peanut, or Oakley, the squirrel ran up and down the fallen pillars excitedly, "For Aslan!"

There seemed to be a solemn silence in the burrow.

Lucy's Dear Little Friend stepped closer to her, "Then I am going with you."

"No, we need you here."

Alexandra nodded, "Our job is to hold off Miraz and his army long enough for Lucy and Susan to get back. Whether that is through holding up our defence or sticking back with offence."

"If I may..." Caspian spoke, clearing his throat slightly, "Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer. But, as King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one in particular that may buy us some time."

Alex nodded and smiled for him to go on, giving him the confidence he needed to continue.

"One of the oldest Telmarine traditions is that of a duel. If one were to challenge Miraz to a duel with rules and rewards... he wouldn't be able to back down."

Peter nodded, "And who do you suggest fights on our behalf?"

"You," Caspian replied. "You are the High King of Narnia. If anyone was going to win against Miraz it would be you."

"I second that," Alex approached Peter. "Does everyone else agree?"

A series or 'I's filled the burrow, echoing off each wall.

"Then it is agreed," she nodded, "Cornelius, a scholar like you would always carry parchment I assume." She watched his head nod as he quickly pulled out some parchment and a quill for her to write with as she wrote the note that Edmund would read to Miraz, stating the rules and many upon many of their titles as to shame Miraz.

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Alexandra, dressed head to toe in her silver armour (with the exception of her helmet - so that her face was visible), the giant Wimbleweather, Glenstorm and King Edmund all marched across the field holding strings of green leaves to show they meant no harm.

Glenstorm, and obviously Wimbleweather, stayed outside of the tent whilst Sir Alexandra Dawson and King Edmund entered. They immediately noticed how Miraz sat in the centre of the long table with his two closest advisors Glozelle and Glozelle's brother, Sopespian.

Alexandra smirked as she noticed how they stared at her axe that hung at her waist, her eyes falling on Miraz who tried to hide his gulp.

"I, Sir Alexandra Mabel Dawson, by the gift of Aslan, Protector of all land and sea of Narnia, the True Heir of the Aurora tree, Giantsbane, the Eternal Flame of the hundred-year long winter, Slayer of Jadis the White Witch, Lady of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Drowsy Pudina and the Crimson Knight, am here on behalf of the High King Peter."

The white haired girl announced all of the titles she had been given during her reign as knight, that she knew of, to intimidate Miraz and his men. And it worked. By the end she noticed how Miraz was clutching the table cloth tightly in his fist with his knuckles white.

Edmund fought back a smile as he unravelled the scroll, "I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, do hereby challenge the usurper mirage to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender."

"Tell me, Prince Edmund-" Miraz started as Edmund started to roll the scroll back up.

"King."

"Pardon me?"

"It's King Edmund actually," he smiled, "Just King, though. Peter is the High King. I know, it's confusing."

"But don't worry, I'm sure you will be able to handle official titles, Usurper," Alex smiled sweetly, tilting her head ever so lightly to the right.

He clenched his teeth before speaking up again, "Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?"

"Haven't you already underestimated our numbers?" Edmund was being over rhetorical, if possible. "I mean, only a week ago Narnians were extinct."

"And so you will be again."

Alexandra smiled once more, "Well, if we are to be extinct, as you put it, you should have nothing to fear. I mean, you are fearing the outcome, are you not?"

"This is not a question of bravery, girl," he spat and sat closer to the edge of his seat.

"There we go again, proving your incompetence by forgetting titles. Such a predicament- The formality, I mean. It's Sir Alexandra. Not girl but Sir."

Edmund laughed lightly, "So you are bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?"

"I didn't say I refused."

"You have our support, your majesty," an advisor spoke from down the table, "Whatever your decision."

"Sire, our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid what might otherwise be-" the other Lord at the table didn't get to finish speaking as Miraz drew his sword.

"I am not avoiding anything!"

The Lord tried to recover his mistake, "I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse."

Glozelle jumped to his liege's aid, "His majesty would never refuse. He relishes the chance to show his people his bravery of their new king."

Miraz held his tongue as he thought about his next words very carefully, especially as the girl before him seemed to pick up on everything he said.

"You," he pointed his sword between the two before him, "You should hope that Peter's sword is sharper than his pen."

After all of the rules were set out and Miraz had agreed to fight within the small area of land near the centre of the field where the fallen pillars had started to crumble even more, the group of four had began to return to Aslan's How.

Miraz waited for them to leave before turning to his men, "Whatever the outcome of this duel, that girl is to be your primary target. I want her head on display in my Castle."

Meanwhile, the knight, centaur, royal and giant  had received their fair share of glares and glances from Miraz's men, none of which they paid any attention to.

"We must walk faster," Alex muttered to Edmund in hushed tones, "I need to speak to Lucy before she and Susan leave. Urgently."

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I love watching Alex be petty