"Careful with the trenches," Peter said to her as they approached them, huge trenches dug behind the treeline, wide and deep, deep enough to entrap a giant.

Imira hadn't noticed them until he pointed them out, what she thought were bushes once examined closely turned out to be heads, heads of all the Ettins who had fallen into the trenches and impaled themselves on big sharp wooden pikes.

Peter led her to the large wooden planks the Narnians had placed at uneven intervals to create bridges for all to cross.

"That was a good idea," Imira commented, walking behind Peter on the narrow wooden bridge.

"It was Ellexis's idea, My Lady," Derrick said from behind her.

She nearly lost her balance. Her jaw clenched and she cursed in her mind, but she took a deep breath and put all her efforts into sounding happy. "Clever,"

That was all the compliment she could manage.

She kept walking with her head held high trying not to let any emotion slip and made it across the wooden planks.

Derrick continued, oblivious to the Queen's displeasure. "Indeed. She thought they might protect us if they launched a surprise attack,"

"Then it was a good idea to have these trenches dug," Imira replied, commending the woman she saw as the enemy without looking at her and ending the conversation.

Peter sensed his wife's discomfort and decided it was best to discuss something else. "We had the ballistae set up way in the back," he pointed south-east, "and caltrops, mind them," he pointed them out as well, large iron caltrops the size of wine barrels. "They worked brilliantly, just like we expected,"

"I told you they would," she smiled knowingly.

"Did we suffer any losses?" Imira asked, stopping next to a giant.

She could see they had won, but at what cost? Perhaps she shouldn't have stopped to take a break in Wolfstrenk before going to Firestream's mountain.

"Very few," he replied. "I haven't received the count yet, but-"

They heard a grunt from behind them and turned to see the giant stir.

Peter and Derrick got out their swords.

"Imira, stay back," Peter said.

"Your majesty!" "Watch out!" Derrick and Ellexis exclaimed, but that only annoyed Imira.

I don't need her concern, I can take care of myself. Did she not see me take down all those giants back there?

She ignored the pain from her right hand as well and those who cautioned her against it, grasped her lance, turned around, and attacked the giant. Before he could regain his senses, she drove her lance through his neck, right through the soft skin below his filthy ear, the point that allowed the easiest access to his cerebellum. His mortal coil ended.

She said nothing as she took out the lance, ignoring the throbbing pain on her right hand and turned around to find them, and a few others, staring at her.

That ought to show her.

"Is the camp nearby? I'm starving,"

They walked through the woods and walked and walked and walked until they reached the camp.

Now, inside their tent and safe from prying eyes, she kissed him. She kissed him deeply and then she hugged him, relieved to be back in his arms, both of them safe, and then... then she punched him.

"What is she doing here?!" Imira demanded.

Peter was utterly confused.

"What?"

"What is she doing here?" she repeated herself, rage in her eyes.

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb, her. That wench you slept with before me,"

He couldn't help but laugh.

She's jealous? Unbelievable.

"Don't mock me," she cuffed him on the shoulder, managing to hurt her hand more than him, but she was too upset to care about her hand at the moment. "I hate it when you laugh like that. I'm as serious as a Marshwiggle. What is she doing here?" She demanded yet again, if possible, even more furious.

Peter stopped laughing, knowing it would only make things worse. "She lives here,"

"Does she now? In the middle of the forest? Is this where she lives?"

"Not here here, in New Castle, before the Ettins took over. She used to live in the village. Don't you remember you requested me to send her away?"

She did remember, and now that he brought it up, she remembered he mentioned sending her north, but she wasn't expecting she'd run into her. She hadn't thought about the girl in years. Until now.

"So what, you found her and thought it wise to keep her around in my absence?"

"Quit your shouting. I searched for her not, she was here when I arrived. Was I supposed to tell her to go?"

"Aye! Or at least have the decency not to parade her around upon my return. Fanciful is it, I risk my life trying to take back your lands while you wait in her embrace,"

"Parade her around... embrace her... No one embraced anyone!" Peter threw his arms up, the exasperation overcoming him.

"Then what is she doing here?" Imira demanded.

"I've told you, she lives here, as one of Sir Derrick's men-at-arms, only female,"

"And you thought it wise for hers to be the third face I'd see?"

"I thought it wise to keep her around and heed her advice. She urged Sir Derrick to dig the trenches. Did you not see how many fell in there and die?"

"Good advice or not, I do not want to suffer her presence,"

"And I do not want to suffer your shouting, my love, but here we are,"

"Well, my love, if you do not wish to hear me shout, don't parade around your ex-lovers before me,"

"I didn't parade anyone around, she was simply here," He explained calmly.

"Then simply send her away,"

"You very well know I am in no position to be sending away fighting and abled men or women. We're in the brink of war,"

"Well, either she leaves or I do," she threatened.

"Empty threats are not your style,"

"Who says they're empty?" she stared at him challengingly.

"I know an empty threat from you when I hear one from your lips,"

He won't yield, the obstinate prick.

"Very well, if she will not leave, then I shall." She turned on her heel and stormed off the tent.

She found her unicorn, Sapphire –a gift from her brother– got on the saddle with one swift movement, and fled into the darkness of the forest, not exactly sure where to.

It took Peter a couple of seconds to react, he was too stunned she had actually followed through, but the moment after she walked out he realized she meant it and went after her.

This was not how he had expected the rest of his night would go, quite the opposite. He had expected a little more loving and a little less fighting and chasing, but if he did not chase after her she'd be even less pleased with him and then there would definitely be no love for him. For now, he still had a chance. He knew her well, she liked to be chased and so chase her he would. He walked out his tent in long determined strides and went after her on his own unicorn. He waited until he was a good distance away before he started calling her name after her, he did not want to make a scene in front of his troops, having their leaders fighting was not good for troop morale.

She knew he was following her but she did not stop, not until he called out her name the fourth time. She slowed down enough for him to catch up to her, enough for him to get in her way. She liked to be chased and she knew it.

"Where to, pray I ask, do you dart off in the middle of the night? Know you not there are wild animals lurking about? Where were you fleeing to?"

She knew not where she ran off to, she hadn't thought of a plan, she had simply left and now here he was with good logical questions and here she was with nothing good to say. That just made her angrier. She scowled, there was nothing logical passing through her brain, just the urge to scream at him. She hated when he made sense and she did not.

"You shout at me for finding her in my camp, yet you forsake me and all remains the same. How is that supposed to work, eh? You are ridiculous and impetuous and–"

She unsheathed her sword and pointed it at him. "You cheating whoreson! You had her, did you not? Don't lie to me for I'll see straight through it and just as easily I'll drive my sword straight through you,"

"I didn't even touch her hand to greet her! You are absurd! Think, for once, before you accuse me of such things," His tone now matched hers. "Had I wanted to cheat on you I would have simply told you to stay home and tend to the children and the realm and avoided myself the arguments,"

"You tried to persuade me to stay home!" she pointed out. "You probably had it all planned!"

"I always try to persuade you to stay home!" he shouted back at her, glad they were arguing in the middle of nowhere, away from prying eyes and ears. This was precisely the sort of thing that serves loved to gossip about. "I never want you in harm's way, I care about your safety. The only woman I ever planned to have is you! I love you, you jealous woman, you doubt it still?" A pained expression overcame him with that last question.

She did not know whether to be angry at him for shouting at her and calling her absurd and jealous–even if she was being absurd and jealous at the moment– or to throw her arms around his neck and kiss his face for saying, nay, shouting, that he loved her.

She stood still.

"So you didn't..."

"No! I would never betray you. How can you even consider it? I've told you I love you over a thousand times now, doing otherwise is unthinkable." Peter's unicorn sighed, almost as if sympathizing with the King.

"And besides, you and your brother would chop me to bits if I ever wronged you," he joked.

A small smile threatened to pull at the corner of her mouth, she fought it.

"Imira, I was sick with worry watching you leave that morning and sicker still when I caught sight of you leaping off Firestream into the fire and towards the giants. My heart nearly stopped at the thought of you being burned or trampled or mangled or..." He shuddered at the thought. "Imira, don't you trust me?" He asked again with the same pained expression that made her heart weak and her ire dissipate.

"With my life," she replied instinctively, her tone softening a great deal. "It's her I don't trust," she added. "I hadn't felt like this in years, but seeing her here, so close to where you stood, knowing what you two... I just couldn't help it,"

"But you trust me, don't you?"

"I do,"

"Then trust that I will always do right by you, just as I trust the same from you. Now put that sword away before you cut Sapphire's head off, and come over here,"

She didn't want to harm a hair on her precious Sapphire and she wanted to make peace with Peter– she felt very silly at that moment– so she shed her sword and switched over to his horse.

"You're heavier than a chest full of gold," he grunted as he pulled her over to his saddle. "But far more precious," he kissed below her ear. "Smellier, but more precious, aye,"

"Do I really smell?" she asked, twisting her neck so she could look at him.

"I'm afraid you do. When was the last time you bathed?"

"Hmm... the day we left Cair Paravel," she replied.

"There you go,"

"Flying around the fire and the smoke and the burnt flesh can't have helped much,"

"I'm afraid it just made matters worse,"

"But you still love me?"

"Always. Even if you smell worse than a stinky swamp on fire,"

"You don't smell that good yourself," she huffed, but he just laughed, reached over for the reins of her mount, and rode her back to camp.

Some stared at them, but none question why the Queen had fled or why the King brought her back in his saddle.

"You're right," Imira said as she got off Peter's unicorn. "If not from the fire, the Ettins would have fled from the smell of me. Now that you've mentioned it I can't stand myself. Oh, lovely, there's Jane, just in time. I'll see you later," and she strode off to the tent where her maid had already prepared the wooden tub and the hot water.

Imira hadn't taken a bath in almost a week, she welcomed the clean hot water with open arms.

Being Queen meant a lack of privacy. She walked, someone followed, she ate, someone watched, she had a conversation, someone listened in. Even here in the camp, she was bathing and six women witnessed, they weren't staring at her, but she was not alone. There was Amy, the only maid whose presence Imira had deemed necessary, Eurybe who informed her of all the details Peter had left out in his retelling of the battle, Alcibe, who contributed a few details here and there but mostly just stared absentmindedly thinking of the three children she had left behind at Cair Paravel and their father who was currently playing glorified babysitter to the twin Princes down in Calormen, Orithia who sharpened a blade, Altheia who, despite it not being her duty, was tending to the Queen's clothes, and Scyleia who just sat in a little stool, minding their own business, guarding the entrance. There was a lot of trust between all the women, so Imira didn't necessarily mind them being there, but she did wish it was someone else sitting beside her chatting, someone tall and handsome and whose name started with Pe- and ended with -ter.

She turned to Eurybe and Alcibe. "That soldier girl, Ellexis, what do you know about her?"

Eurybe turned to look at her, hands behind her back. "She used to be posted at the palace,"

"But she's been here for over a decade," Alcibe finished.

Orithia looked up from the dagger she was sharpening. "She came up with the idea of the ditches after the Ettins first attacked,"

"And she has befriended Sir Derrick. He trusts her," Altheia added, much to Imira's annoyance.

"Weren't she and the High King–" Scyleia started to ask, but Orithia kicked her seat and shut her up with a glance.

"I'm aware," Imira replied, wishing it would have been her who kicked Scyleia's chair.

"Would you like to speak to her?" Alcibe asked her.

Imira almost shouted her answer. "No,"

She took a deep breath and shook her head to clear her mind. "Not ever. So make sure that does not happen," She looked straight at Eurybe, the general nodded. "And make sure she is never alone with the King," she added, leaning back on the tub and closing her eyes.

As she walked back to her tent, escorted by her five guards, she caught sight of Ellexis sitting with Sir Derrick by a fire.

If she were ugly, I might dislike her less.

She found Peter sitting on his chair with his legs stretched before him, reading a parchment with but a few candles lit around him.

"You shouldn't strain your eyes," she leaned on his chair and looked over his shoulder.

He smiled. She had used the same tone she used whenever she was admonishing their sons.

He placed the parchment aside and looked up at her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her over. "Come here,"

She smiled at him and sat on the arm of his chair, he wrapped an arm around her waist and then they kissed.

"Tell me all about your trip. Firestream said you promised him someone would guard his treasure?"

"You spoke with him, good. Aye, I did. A fair bargain do you think not?"

"Certainly," Peter agreed. "I spoke with Lord Stryder afterwards, he'll see to it tomorrow,"

And then she had a brilliant idea, one that would solve all her problems.

"An idea has just occurred to me. Why don't we send her?"

Peter tried not to frown.

"You know who I speak of, do not make me say her name,"

"Now why would we want to do that?"

Imira tried not to scowl. Did he not understand how much it bothered her?

"Are we really going to have this argument all over again?"

"That depends, will you send her away?"

"No,"

She stood up from his chair and took a few steps away from him before turning to face him. "Then it seems we will,"

Peter stood up as well and sighed. He was exhausted and found the arguing pointless, but he didn't want her to be upset at him anymore and run off yet again. "I just don't understand, how can you possibly be jealous after all this time?"

"I don't know, alright, I don't know, I simply am. You knew this when you married me, I warned you. Now, I would appreciate it if you accepted that and did something about it. Like getting rid of her,"

He took a few tentative steps towards her and then grabbed her gently by the shoulders. "I've told you, love, I can't do that," he explained calmly. The last thing he wanted was more shouting.

She found his answer unacceptable. "So you admit it, you want her around?"

"I never said I did,"

She looked him up and down in a glance and shook him off. "You aren't denying it,"

He took a cautious step towards her and took her hands in his, she let him. "I care not for her, 'tis you I want, around, over me, under me, on top of me, you name it,"

She blushed and unconsciously smiled. She wanted to both hit him and kiss him at that moment, but she did neither. Instead, she kept arguing.

"I do not want her here, it is uncomfortable, her very presence offends me," she informed him, but her tone was now gentle, a little sad perhaps, but gentle.

"We are planning a war, no one is comfortable,"

"You know that's not what I meant,"

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his damp hair. "I love you. Her being here is not going to change that,"

"I know, but can't you just-"

"Imira, stop. You're being unreasonable. Now, I understand the situation is not ideal, but you can't just get rid of those you dislike. Especially when they may have clever ideas on how to outsmart the Ettins,"

"I have clever ideas," she muttered.

He chuckled a little. "I know you do, but it would be unwise to turn down a helping hand."

"I am not pleased with her presence in this camp, she is a whore," poison returned to her tone.

"For sleeping with me a decade ago? Careful with your double standards. Did I not bed you out of wedlock as well?"

She walked away from him and went to stand behind his chair. "I was clever enough to tie you down,"

"She was clever enough to think of building ditches long before we came here, she stays. As do you,"

"But–"

"I am not about to send a useful soldier away,"

She looked like she wanted to shout at him, but Peter continued, his tone as patient as ever. "Had she not had that clever idea, I would agree with you and send her off, but we're fighting giants, we need all the clever ideas we can get. Now, if you do not wish to speak to her, that's alright, for she has no noble blood and she can't address you unless you acknowledge her first, which I doubt you will ever do. If you do not wish to see her, that's alright too, I will tell your guards to keep her out of your way. If you do not wish for me to speak to her, then I won't. Now, please, can you forget about her as I did so many years ago and let us stop this quarrelling? Or are we to make battle in here as well?"

She thought about his words and went to sit on his chair. "We are to make peace. I tire of this argument and see I will not get my way. For now, what you propose is acceptable, but if she so much as looks you the wrong way–"

"How about this, if she has nothing helpful to contribute before the rest of the troops arrive, she will remain here and out of your way while we keep moving North. We won't see her but perhaps once more on our return and that will be it. Does that please you?"

As she considered his words, a loud and rather unladylike yawn escaped her mouth. "It does,"

"When was the last time you slept?"

The arguing was finally over and he was intent on changing the topic.

She yawned again. "I haven't had a good proper nights sleep since last I saw you,"

"That's an awfully long time. You must be exhausted,"

"I am," she admitted. "And all this arguing did not help,"

"Aye, it did not." He decided to test his luck and tease her. "Whose fault was that?"

She glared at him but rolled her eyes and Peter saw she was mildly amused. "Are you still upset with me?" he asked as he got closer.

She stood up slowly and tiredly. "No. I'm grateful you are alive and unscathed,"

And she was. She had longed for him while away, to be back by his side where she knew she'd be safe. As much as she enjoyed a good adventure, she had come to value safety and security a little more over the years. And those were just the things she felt whenever she was by his side.

"Are you upset with me?" She asked.

He shook his head at her. "Regretfully you did not escape this one unscathed, but I'm grateful you're alive as well," He grabbed her wrist gently and turn her hand around to reveal her slightly burnt palm. He winced for her.

"Next time I'll wear gloves," she stared at her right hand, thinking about how she had hurt herself.

During the fight she had thrown her lance at a giant's eye and hit her target, unfortunately, before she could retrieve it, the giant and Firestream had a little fight. There were more Ettins that needed to be dealt with and the lance was the only useful weapon she had. One of the giants saw her and began running towards her. Stupidly and instinctively, she ordered Dehlios down and reached to retrieve her lance, not reflecting it might be unwise to do so after Firestream's had just finished the giant off by spitting fire at his face. The lance, obviously, was very hot and it had burned her hand. Not badly for her reflects were quick and she let go of it instantly, circling back later to retrieve it, but it had left her hand red and stinging.

"And some hand wrappings wouldn't be a bad idea. At least you smell like your self again," he smirked at her.

"I had to wash my hair thrice and use all the rosewater I brought to get the smell of smoke out of it," she said, picking up a strand and sniffing it to confirm the smell was gone.

He leaned forward and brought his nose to her hair. "I'd say it was worth it. We'll have more brought to you with the next supply run,"

He was so close she could smell him as well, and he smelled so good. She had longed to be back with him and now she was. Not caring if she seemed contradictory, for she was a woman and she was allowed to be as contradictory as she pleased, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

"I don't wish to fight with you anymore," she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her slim frame. "Neither do I wish to fight with you. There are far better things to do at night than to quarrel."