Peter was sitting outdoors, leaning back on his chair, enjoying the afternoon breeze, thinking, planning, when the bustle finally caught his attention.

He frowned.

What now, Peter thought as he made his way to the western flank of his camp, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

But the seriousness in his eyes disappeared and was replaced by a discrete smile when he saw what the commotion was all about.

Her hair was messy, there was sweat on her forehead, she was tired, flushed, and feeling gross, but Peter thought she never looked more beautiful.

She dismounted gracefully and patted Saphire's neck.

Lod Herny saw him first. He nodded to Peter and the High King nodded back.

Imira noticed and turned around. A smile graced her lips and he met her halfway with a kiss, both ignoring the cheers and jests around them. 

He backed down. "Come, it's been five days. There is much to be discussed," 

Imira nodded and followed. "You were very brief in your letters,"

"I was occupied," Peter replied.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "We defeated both of them," she informed him as they walked away from the crowd, guards flanking them. "I must admit, you were right in insisting on parlay. The first didn't heed me, but the second group surrendered,"

"That's good. Spared our soldiers a battle," Peter entered his tent, Imira behind him.

"I must say, speaking to them was unnerving. I thought they'd kill me,"

Peter chuckled. "I thought you'd ignore me and just attack,"

"I'm not an impetuous eighteen-year-old anymore,"

"No, you're not eighteen anymore,"

She feigned offence and they laughed.

"Can we continue this over some dinner?"

"Yes, of course. You must be hungry,"

"More thirsty than anything. This summer heat is quite something," 

It was twilight, torches across camp were being lit, and Peter and Imira were dining outdoors, talking about what had happened during the five days they were apart.

"So, you didn't endanger yourself recklessly. I am quite pleased." Peter joked.

Imira scoffed. 

"How about you? Did you endanger yourself recklessly?" she asked, picking up her goblet.

"Not recklessly,"

Imira laughed. "Not recklessly,"

"The first group yielded," Peter said now solemnly, "but they were warned. They agreed to my terms and turned to leave only to return two nights after to ambush us in our sleep,"

Imira gasped.

"The trees warned us," Peter reassured her. "When they came, we were ready for them. We turned their surprise attack against them and won. However, many managed to flee, no doubt to the Ettins north of the marsh," he turned to look there, in the direction of the marsh. "Their numbers are increasing, Imira. Defeating them becomes more complicated by the day. The longer we wait, the stronger they get," He looked back to her.

"What do you want to do?" 

"What will you do once this is over?" Alcibe asked her sister. With their tent set up, they were now enjoying dinner by the fire.

"You won't like it," Eurybe said.

"So you are leaving,"

"Of course I'm leaving, Alcibe. My five-year pledge will be over when the year ends. You know I can't stay any longer, we've already lost so much time,"

Alcibe nodded. It wasn't fair for her sister, yet she wished she'd never leave. "You're marrying Jerval at last,"

"Yes. At long last," A smile spread across Eurybe's face. Theirs was the most complicated of stories.

She grew up in Aotherra, daughter of a royal guard and the head of the royal stables. Eurybe had always wanted to be a warrior like her mother, Istegia, so when she turned fourteen she went to the training grounds of Aotherra where she soon grew recognized for her skill. Her sister joined her in 990 and in 994, during a visit to her brother, the King, Queen Althea of Datram selected her to become her daughter's guard. Eurybe moved to Datram with her sister and pledged ten years of service, but the year later when the princess 'died' she returned to Aotherra having no reason to remain in Datram anymore. There, in 996, she met Jerval, two years after he had pledged ten years of service to the king. They were very much in love but his pledge forbade him from being married until the ten years had passed, so they agreed to wait. But when the White Witch was defeated the King of Datram, James, called for her to fulfill her pledge and guard his sister. Jerval tried to convince her to refuse, for they had only four more years to wait until he was free to marry her, but Eurybe's honour made her go. They fought and split up. When his ten years were up Jerval renewed his pledge for another ten years only to reconcile with Eurybe in 1007 and have a daughter with her the very same year and a son two years later. Their children were raised in Cair Paravel alongside children of the nobility and in 1009 she renewed her pledge for five more years so they could continue having the best opportunities and so she could gather enough wealth not to return empty-handed to Aotherra. All she had to do now was wait for the year to be over so she could return home, marry Jerval, and had the life they were meant to have. The life she had been waiting more than fifteen years for.

Eurybe sighed, wondering what Jerval was doing and what her children were doing and hoping they were safe.

Alcibe reached over and squeezed her sister's hand. "I am going to miss you so much, but if anyone deserves this it's the two of you," "fifteen years and two children later, I'd say it's about damn time you two get married,"

"I couldn't agree more," Eurybe looked up at the stars. "I can't wait for this year to be over," 

꧁༒☬––––––––– 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏 –––––––––☬༒꧂

Peridan was anxious, nervous, excited, angry. Anxious because he was itching to get away from Calormen, nervous because they would have to make an escape from the city, excited because they'd be returning to Narnia and with Susan, and angry because of what the King and Mr Tumnus had said about the Calormene's veiled threats. He would kill them all if they tried to come for Susan, he'd rather die than let them take her. The thought of them taking her made him sick to his stomach in anger.

A loud crash pulled him from his thoughts and he turned immediately towards the sound. Was it the Calormenes? Had they come for Susan?

Peridan hurried outside. He wasn't the only one, Mr Tumnus and one of the dwarves emerged almost immediately from other doors.

"What was hear that?" Lord Peridan asked.

"It sounded like something got broken," the dwarf said.

Peridan looked around but nothing seemed amiss.

Mr Tumnus peeked inside a room but found nothing amiss.

"Prince Corin," Peridan exclaimed. That silly little miscreant, what has he done now? Peridan wondered as he made his way to the room the Prince had been left to rest at. He must be very sun-sick. Did he break something by accident and hurt himself? It's always something with that boy.

He expected to find the food tray on the floor, food everywhere, or perhaps a broken sherbert glass, maybe the prince stumbling about, or even him with a cut or minor injury that needed tending. Instead, he found the Prince standing by the window next to a broken vase. Only when he turned around he realized that wasn't the Corin they had left moments ago.

Not unless he had given himself a black eye, changed back into his regular clothes and then rolled around in the dirt.

Corin grinned at them, he was missing a tooth.

What the–– "Is there anything to drink?" Corin asked. "That boy you mistook me for drank it all,"

Peridan turned to Mr Tumnus and then to the dwarf, but they were as disconcerted as he was.

"Hey, he said we are leaving; what's that about? Has Queen Susan made up her mind yet? I bet she refused him. He's not very pleasant, you know. Neither is this city nor its inhabitants. A most rude bunch. I had to punch some sense into them,"

The three just stared at the Prince, trying to make some sense of the situation.

What? Boy we mistook him for? But.. he was just... and he looked...

"Well, will someone get me something to drink or must I do it myself?"

Oh, yes, Peridan thought, no doubt. This officious little boy is most definitely Corin.