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WALKING IN THE WIND
xiii. FIRE MEETS WIND

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  LIGHT AND DARK WERE oftentimes amid a civil war, and yet, Hope had never seen it like this.

  To be frank, she had never seen a war unfold before her very eyes ever. She was born well into Wysteria's darkest hour, after all. The closest she got to witnessing any real battles firsthand was through the heavy words and stories of those around her. Living in Wysteria meant that people spoke of the land's hardships just as often as they spoke of the weather. It was all they could do to fill the time before the kingdom drew its final breath. Light and dark often clashed, and she knew this, but she never saw it for herself — only the aftermath.

  The war between the Narnians and the Telmarines was the first one she ever saw up close, and that made it so much more personal to her. Because she knew Narnia. Because she was raised on tall tales about the majestic lion and his chosen ones. She knew what this land was meant to be. She knew how it once flourished and thrived, and witnessing the cards the Narnians were dealt made her that much more eager to join the march against them. Now that Wysteria was gone, Narnia was her home, and she didn't want it to face the same fate as the land that raised her.

  Her determination to save Narnia was a small flame, but with the contagious optimism of the Pevensies, it grew. It grew and grew and grew, spreading to each Narnian that remained. They hadn't been this hopeful for better days in a long time.

  Everyone was hard at work preparing for the invasion. Time was fleeting, and with such a small army, everyone needed to chip in as much as they could. Hope was thankful that her many years of overworking herself was coming to good use.

  While Edmund, Peter, Susan, and Caspian strategized with those who would be joining them for the night raid, Hope was busily helping out where she could. There was only so much she could do since she planned on staying behind with Odette and Lucy, but she was putting as much of herself into this mission as she could. Honestly, she was grateful she wasn't participating in the ambush. She was the farthest thing from a soldier.

  Hope thought that perhaps this would be a decent opportunity to bond with the Narnians, but her attempts were futile. Handmaids were so much harsher than she remembered them being. That, or she just got lucky with Wysteria's servants. Then again... maybe they were only polite to her because of her relationship with the princess...

  Well, either way, trying to bond with the Narnians felt like trying to befriend savage beasts. Their hostility was disguised with bitter smiles and whispers every time she turned her back. Normally, Hope would've just stuck with Odette, but that wasn't an ideal option at the moment.

  Most, if not all, of the Narnians disliked Hope, and it was very much obvious. That was how she ended up in the armory.

  Hope sat by herself, shining and sharpening swords while humming an old Wysterian folk song when a trio of centaur brothers entered. With hooves that echoed like thunder in the valley and boisterous laughs that shook the cavern walls, it was hard for her not to look up when they walked in. Buff and charming, these were the sons of General Glenstorm and Windmane. Their names were Rainstone, Ironhoof, and Suncloud.

  Their blithe demeanors didn't fade once they saw the despised queen sitting alone. "Oh? Your Majesty, what are you doing in here?" Rainstone greeted.

  Hope stared at him for a prolonged moment, forgetting why he would call her by such a formality. This caused Suncloud to chime, "I think you've frightened her, brother!"

  "Wouldn't be the first time he's scared a maiden," Ironhoof snickered.

  "No! No, I'm sorry," Hope sincerely said. "Forgive me, I'm not used to the, uh, formalities yet."

  "Apologies are unnecessary, Your Majesty," Rainstone affirmed. "Our mother told us you are still adjusting to your newfound queenship."

  Hope would hardly call the burden that'd been thrust onto her "queenship", but before she could say this, they were already bouncing to the next conversation topic.

  "Prepping for the invasion, Your Majesty?" wondered Ironhoof, nodding to the sword in her lap. Despite the low lighting, it reflected the light of the torches around them. "That's very kind of you. I wouldn't have taken you as one to divulge in this sort of thing!"

  "Well, I figured taking care of our weapons would benefit our army for the invasion more than cleaning dishes all day," Hope explained warily, unsure of how to take their kindness. With the way the past few days had gone, kindness felt like a trick. Thankfully, the three brothers erupted with laughter.

  "Could you imagine?" Ironhoof bantered. "Perhaps we could use the plates as shields!"

  "And forks and knives as swords?"

  "Spoons as catapults!"

  Hope smiled, relaxing as she decided these three didn't seem to dislike her the way the others did. They were kindhearted and welcoming.

  "Are you three nervous to fight in the coming days?" Hope politely asked.

  Rainstone waved a hand. "Nervous? We were born for this stuff!"

  Ironhoof nudged his brother. "He's kidding, Your Majesty."

  "Please, you don't have to call me that," she assured. "Hope is fine."

  "Your Majesty, our mother taught us better than to submit Aslan's chosen ones to such informalities!" Suncloud disagreed.

  Hope would hardly call herself a chosen one.

  "Well, it's not just that," admitted Rainstone. "If she ever overheard us call you by your given name—"

  "She might scold us until Christmas!" Suncloud interrupted, causing Hope to laugh.

  As the three centaurs trotted around her, Ironhoof queried, "So, is Narnia as you remember it, Your Majesty?"

  Hope cringed every time one of them addressed her so graciously. How could anyone get used to that? "Not necessarily. It's... quieter."

  "That's a first," said Suncloud. "We're always getting lectured by our mother for being so noisy!"

  Ignoring him, Rainstone queried, "Is the difference that striking?"

  Hope nodded sadly. "I never would've thought a place could be as gloomy as Wysteria until we all returned to Narnia."

  "Wysteria," repeated Ironhoof. The name was foreign on his tongue. None of them had heard of such a place until they met Hope and Odette. "That's the kingdom you and Princess Odette came from, isn't it?"

  "Yes," Hope confirmed. "I was her handmaid for a long time. Spent just about every waking moment of my life by her side." She braced herself for the endless series of questions about everything she didn't want to relive at the moment (or ever again), but the three brothers were polite, kind, and fueled by optimistic curiosity.

  "And now you're a queen!" noted Rainstone. "I'd say that's a step in the right direction!"

  "You know, our father predicted that change would come to Narnia soon," added Ironhooof. "Father believes that the stars tell stories. He's a prophet."

  Hope's eyes lit up at the mention. She knew of people who could do such a thing, but she never knew any of them personally. She wondered if reading the stars was something that could be taught.

  "It's how he predicted he'd get stuck with all sons!" laughed Rainstone.

  "I don't know why you say that like it's an insult, brother," Ironhoof said. "I'm the favorite son!"

  Rainstone and Suncloud immediately opposed this while Hope just laughed at them. It was a relief that although Narnia was faced with troubling times, they could spare a moment to laugh whenever they could. The Pevensies had more of an impact on Narnia than Hope realized. Was their return the reason why everyone could smile more easily?

  "You know, Your Majesty, you're a lot kinder than I was expecting," Suncloud shamelessly confessed. Ironhoof shot the youngest brother a look of warning, but he merely shrugged. "What? Honesty is a valuable trait to have! Isn't that what you're always preaching?"

  "Sunny's right," Rainstone said. "You saw how those handmaids have been treating her."

  "It's unfair," added Suncloud. "If the Just King hadn't told us otherwise, I'd have shared their harsh thoughts."

  "Oh, it's... it's alright," Hope promised, blushing at the thought of Edmund defending her. "Not everyone will love you, nor will everyone hate you. It's a terrible war, but being aware of it makes it a bit more bearable."

  Ironhoof smiled warmly. "You're full of surprises, Your Majesty."

  "Agreed!" a new voice happily roared. In all of his shining glory, Peter Pevensie strutted into the armory. The room was already rather small, and his mere presence filled the room until it was on the brink of bursting. Behind him were Edmund, Susan, and Caspian. "Hope! There you are! How do you always have me looking for you?"

  Hope straightened her posture even more if that was possible, tense. She shot Edmund a nervous glance, but as always, he was cool and confident.

  Peter continued, "You've been keeping secrets again!"

  "Peter," Susan scolded as Edmund whacked his arm, "you're going to give her a heart attack."

  To their surprise, Hope rose to her feet and calmly asked, "Should I apologize first or jump straight to begging for my life?" Caspian had a feeling he was missing something because he didn't understand her joke or why Edmund chuckled so shamelessly.

  "When did you plan on mentioning that your father was the Captain of Wysteria's Royal Guard?" Peter interrogated. "I had to find out from Ed!"

  Hope shrugged. "Surprise?"

  "I can't believe I've known you this long, and I'm only discovering this information today!" Peter went on. "Is that how you had that idea about setting up traps the other day?"

  "Sort of, yeah," Hope slowly answered. "When I'd run out of things to do as a kid, I'd read my father's notes and books on battle strategies and swordsmanship and... that sort of thing. I reckon it stuck with me after all this time. I didn't think it'd ever prove to be useful."

  Peter's eyes lit up. "Fascinating!"

  "I mean, Wysteria literally lost the war, so how useful were those notes really—?"

  Peter didn't hear a word she said. He went on, "Honestly, I'm enlightened, Hope."

  "Thank you...? I think?" Hope returned, vexed. "Er, is that it?"

  Shaking his head, Peter declared, "As you know, our ambush is coming up soon, and we're short on men. We were discussing the division of our numbers when Edmund, here, suggested we recruit one more person to our cavalry: you."

  It was silent for a matter of seconds before Hope erupted with giggles.

  At this point, Caspian was starting to think Hope was a madwoman.

  "Oh, that's very funny, Peter!" Hope laughed. "You almost got me!"

  But Peter wasn't laughing, nor were the others. "I want you to join us," Peter said, this time more firmly.

  Her smile shrank. "You can't be serious. Peter, I haven't fought in a single war ever! And it's been ages since I properly used a sword! I can hardly walk without tripping over my own two feet! I'm a klutz!" Hope declared. "Right, Ed?"

  She should've known better than to hope that Edmund would back her up, considering this was his idea. Of course, this was his idea. His stupid grin returned to him.

  "Actually, dove, may I be frank?"

  "...No?"

  Ignoring her, Edmund continued, "You're quite skilled for someone who swears they aren't. Yes, you're a klutz, but when you're using that sword, you become someone else. I've seen it myself. Your assistance could help us win this thing."

  "Or it could make everything even worse," Hope argued.

  "Listen, Hope, we're stretching ourselves thin," Peter reported. "We could use every soldier we can get."

  "You don't want me joining your numbers. Trust me," Hope debated. "It's not an argument of courage. I'm telling you this because I want us to win this. I'm not a soldier! I'm just a girl!"

  "We're all just girls deep down!" Peter said.

  There was an awkward pause.

  "Okay, that came out stranger than I meant, but the sentiment remains," Peter went on. But Hope wasn't giving in. "Alright. If you won't agree, I have no other choice. Hope, I hereby challenge you to a duel."

  The centaur brothers loudly gasped from Hope's side. Even Hope paled at his words. It was one thing to be challenged to a duel, but it was another when the person challenging you was a bloody Narnian King! Not any king! The Magnificent! The High King!

  "You... You can't do that," Hope lamely quarreled.

  "Hope, dear, I'm the High King. I can, and I will," Peter said. "If I win, you have to join us. If you win, you don't."

  Her gaze kept darting back to Edmund, but he wasn't budging. She was on her own. "What's the point of dueling when we both know you're going to win?" Hope asked. "None of this makes sense! You're joking, right?"

  "Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

  "Is that supposed to be ironic?"

  Snickering, Peter nodded toward the exit. "Come along, Lady Hope. I'd like to finish this before dinnertime," he declared before heading outside with Susan and Caspian. Rainstone, Ironhoof, and Suncloud followed behind them.

  Hope felt faint, but before she could pass out, Edmund was by her side. With his hand hovering over the small of her back, he guided her forward. She so badly wanted to wipe that smug look off of his face.

  "I could kill you right now," she hissed.

  "Yeah? Save it for Peter," Edmund said.

  "You hate me."

  "You're overreacting, darling," he assured as they stepped outside. The afternoon was blinding, but it failed to melt away her nerves. "I told him you wouldn't feel prepared enough to go with us, but Pete thinks he can change your mind. He doesn't want to force you to do anything you don't want to, but he'll spend ages trying to convince you otherwise. Stubborn, my brother is."

  "I think it runs in the family," Hope grumbled. "Ed, I'll die!"

  "He won't kill you, genius! He does this all the time. It's supposed to make you feel more confident in your abilities as a knight," Edmund elucidated. He nodded gratefully as Ironhoof handed him a sword for Hope to use. He pushed it into her hands, causing her to glare at him. "You know, for someone who's named Hope, you sure don't have much hope in yourself."

  Hope gripped the hilt of the sword tightly. "You think he'll go easy on me?"

  "Are you kidding? This is Peter we're talking about."

  She groaned. "I had a feeling you'd say that. This is going to be awful."

  "Hey, you never know," Edmund encouraged. "You might just say otherwise."

  Hope made a mental note to kill Edmund if she died doing this.

  The field outside Aslan's How was soon littered with Narnians. Delirium and exhilaration became them once word spread that the Magnificent had challenged Hope to a duel. While it was only a simple spar, many dropped what they were doing to see their High King in action for the first time. Though, if Hope was being honest, she had a feeling that some of the handmaids only wanted to watch because they knew Peter would kick her ass.

  Hope must've looked ridiculous standing before the High King. His magnificence was intimidating, enough to where she didn't understand how anyone could have fought him in the past with the belief that they would win. If she was a small flame, he was the wind in the northern skies. His mere presence was enough to make her want to surrender.

  Hesitantly, Hope asked, "Is it too late to run away?"

  "Certainly not," promised Peter, "but you won't make it very far without a headstart!"

  "COME ON, HOPE! YOU CAN DO IT!" Rainstone suddenly cheered from the sidelines. Immediately, all eyes fell on the centaur, who just shrugged. "What? She looks nervous!"

  She cringed as everyone spoke over each other. Some were busily chatting about how much of an honor it was to see Peter in action while others discussed how Hope was undoubtedly going to lose against him.

  But then she caught Edmund's gaze, and she felt a little bit better. Even if he'd gotten her into this mess in the first place, she knew it was because he believed in her. That was enough for her.

  Then, Hope's eyes flickered toward Odette. She stood near the front with Lucy, who was rambling to the blonde about something. It didn't seem like Odette was listening. The two Wysterians stared at one another for a long moment with neutral expressions before Odette slowly nodded at her. You can do this. Hope shook her head. But Odette was insistent. Hope could even hear her voice in her head. Stop fighting with your head and focus. You're fine.

  "Are you ready?"

  "Well, I was sort of hoping I'd get to write my will before I died, but I guess so."

  With that, the duel commenced, and oddly enough, Hope found herself worrying more about Susan's dress than her safety. She would feel quite guilty if it got torn to shreds because she—WOAH!

  She parried as Peter swung his sword. A long time ago, domineering and aggressive were the last words Hope would use to describe Peter, but now that she was seeing him like this, she was quickly understanding why anyone would call him those things.

  Just like the last time she was forced into drawing a blade, her reflexes and muscle memory took over. They went back and forth, where Peter would swing and she would parry. Over and over again, he would attack, and she would defend.

  There was a beautiful thing her father used to say about sword-fighting. He always said that sword-fighting was just a physical chess match. It was all about thinking ahead. It wasn't about waiting for the perfect moment to strike; it was about creating that moment. It wasn't about overpowering your opponent, but rather, it was all about playing off of the other person's moves. The key was to outsmart the other guy. Maybe Hope wasn't the best at chess, but this? This was right up her alley.

  So, in reality, while it looked like Peter was on the verge of overpowering her, she was actually trying to figure out how she was going to outsmart him. Peter, after all, was more experienced and more talented than her in this area, but if there was one thing her father taught her, it was that strength in the mind was far more valuable than strength in the muscle.

  "Figure it out yet?" Peter shouted as he deflected her weapon.

  "Figure what out?" she shot back, but he ignored her.

  Their feet kicked the grass with every move taken as they circled each other. The chatter around them became louder and louder, and still, her pulse rioting in her ears was louder than all of them. Blades clanged together as their movements became sharper and tighter with every second that ticked by.

  She grunted, dodging as Peter swung again. She whirled her blade upward, causing their swords to circle each other with so much pressure that she would've fallen had she not been focusing so hard.

  At this point, she wasn't sure what she would gain from winning or losing. Edmund said this was all some exercise Peter liked doing with other soldiers, right? So, what, the whole point of this was to convince Hope that she could use a sword? She already knew she could use a sword. The argument was that she wasn't ready to face any real battles, never mind fight in a war.

  But then again, here she was, muscles flexing, stupid dress flailing in her way, sword whipping through the air, fighting the bloody High King of Narnia.

  And maybe she was getting ahead of herself, but she was doing a lot better than she was expecting. Honestly, she never thought she was incapable. She was just scared of taking that first step. This was far from her comfort zone, but now that she was here, it wasn't bad at all, and neither was she. In fact, she was more skilled than she thought she was. Fighting someone else wasn't as awful as she was expecting—Oh.

  Oh, now she understood.

  With one last push, Hope leaned to the right and feigned an attack. When he went to defend, she attacked his left — Peter's less guarded side. She brought her elbow down on his forearm, forcing the grip on his sword to loosen. She pushed again, and the High King's sword flew out of his grasp. All conversations and cheers grew silent as the handmaid stood, victorious.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Susan muttered.

  Hope didn't even realize she'd won until she realized she wasn't parrying anymore. She only stared up at Peter, overcome with shock. Their chests heaved up and down, silent. Slowly, she lowered her sword from his neck and demanded, "How did you do that?"

  Peter furrowed his eyebrows, but he wasn't fooling her. "Do what? You're the one that won."

  "No, I figured it out," Hope insisted, lowering her voice so that the others couldn't hear them. "How did you know I was ready to... to do this? Edmund said this is your thing."

  It was so obvious to her now. Before, it didn't make sense to her, but now it did. Peter challenged her to a duel to show her that she was ready for real battles, to show her that she was more capable than she knew, to show her that she could help the light win. If she could take on the High King of Narnia, she could take on the world, whether she won or lost.

  He flashed her a smile. "I knew because he insisted," Peter simply said. "And for the record, I didn't let you win. You defeated me, fair and square."

  Her eyes widened. "I did. I did, didn't I?" she stammered. "All this just to convince me to join you in the ambush?"

  "That, and so much more," Peter proudly told her. "So? What do you say?"

  Hope sighed. "...Okay. I'll do it. For Aslan."

  With that, Peter turned to the crowd and took her free hand, raising it to the heavens. "WE HAVE A WINNER!" he shouted.

  There was a pause, but it quickly vanished as their High King grinned at Hope's victory. Cheers erupted from the crowd as liberation swept Hope off of her feet. It was odd feeling their excited cries engulf her, considering she was pretty sure most of the Narnians still disliked her. She supposed the thrill of the duel had gotten everyone riled up.

  Then again, maybe Hope didn't need everyone to like her. Maybe earning their respect could be enough.

  Hope returned her sword to a nearby minotaur as the crowd broke apart. Some approached her to politely congratulate her on her victory. After all, a successful duel against the Magnificent wasn't something to take lightly, even if she won by sheer luck. But she just wanted to see one person.

  As everyone headed inside, Hope pushed through the crowd until she found Edmund. She knew he had been waiting for her because he was the only one who hadn't moved. Though his stance was relaxed, there was that annoying smug look on his face. But she didn't care... this time. She pushed her tired body forward, breaking out into a short run until she was close enough to throw her arms around his shoulders.

  She felt him chuckle, his chest vibrating against her as his arms took her waist. She pulled away, revealing her big grin as her hands locked behind his head. She didn't have to say anything for him to know what was running through her mind.

  "That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Edmund taunted.

  But she didn't reply. Hope merely leaned forward and pressed her lips onto his. Edmund's eyes widened before they drooped shut. His hands moved down to her waist, squeezing it as he melted into the kiss. Soon, Hope pulled away and muttered, "Otherwise."

  Edmund removed one arm from her waist to caress her face, failing to hide his amusement. "You know, if you weren't high on adrenaline right now, you'd be yelling at me."

  "Shut up and kiss me, idiot."