milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Your loyalty to your duty is commendable, sir, but as he has said: this is not your fight."

The Knight pointedly steps around Peter, making to follow Caspian.

Peter moves to block Rilian's path, pulling Rhindon half out of her sheath.

"You will put up your blade while you are in the bar," he says. "And it would also serve you well to reconsider this folly. Caspian is a practised swordsman. What would your lady think if you were injured here - or worse, killed?"

The sound of swords being drawn is such a small sound, yet it draws attention so quickly.

And if anything could keep Eustace's attention, it would Caspian heading towards the outside door, looking determined, and Peter and --

It can't be Rilian.

But can't be doesn't mean isn't.

-- Peter and Rilian facing off.

Which is a lot of lead-up to say that there is a very intense Eustace standing nearby, trying to figure out how to help -- or even who to help.

Remarkably enough, Eustace is perhaps not the only one whose attention is drawn.

Edmund is frowning, somewhat, as he walks up, stopping between Peter and the Knight.

For aye, he knows them both, although perhaps the one far better than the other.

And this is his home, and his place of employment now, and it is not right that his brother risk his own employment; for it occurs to Edmund that perchance it might be read as business from outside the bar, to have the High King of Narnia fight with one who is also meant to be a King of Narnia.

Admittedly his own position is no better, this is true. And yet, he worries far less for his own position than for that of his brother; for indeed, Peter is the one who is High King.

"My lords," he says, coolly, glancing out the open door to include his dear friend Caspian in this number. "I fear tempers have grown heated. I implore you all, therefore, to consider your actions well. This place is a home to many, and should not be marred by violence."

He glances from Caspian to the Knight, before turning his gaze on Peter. And there, in a private look, perchance Peter can read a note that is almost chiding; for he is High King, as well as Security, and should know that if violence is imminent instead of actual, further violence should never be the first resort of action.

Alrighty folks, this has done it. Jill shoots out of the booth at the sound of the swords being drawn and shakes her head.

"Wait. We cannot just foolishly rush into this."

She looks back and forth between everyone, having ended up standing near Scrubb. Plus, the Knight was quite cordial in helping to clean up the spilt tea.

"I do not think that this is the right time for a quarrel....anywhere."

"I rush into nothing, but I will not stand meekly by and allow this boy to insult my lady and my honour. I charge you, stand aside."

From outside, Caspian waits, his sword easy in his hand, watching with growing impatience.

"My lords," he calls, his voice clear, and warning, "High King. I'd charge you to leave this quarrel to the knight and to myself."

He takes a step, and takes Peter by the arm to speak quietly into his ear.

"This is my choice, brother. Give me 'til the hour strikes ere you ask me to stop again."

He points to Rilian. "Let him come out, and fight, if he will."

It is not until Caspian speaks to him that Peter slides Rhindon back into his scabbard, though his expression does not change.

"Duel if you must, then," he says, his gaze moving between Caspian and Rilian, "but you will put up your sword for the few seconds you remain in the room, or I shall take it from you."

The Knight's expression doesn't change as he slides his sword back into its sheath, inclining his head a little.

"As you say."

He steps around Peter and stalks outside, drawing his sword once he's out of the bar.

The four remaining Narnians follow him, tense.

Caspian waits, feeling oddly calm for the first time since Rilian had stepping through the door. Tossing his scabbard aside, he holds his new sword loosely at his side, standing straight and tall. There is nothing of the boy Caspian about him now--only the king, older than Peter, and as stern.

When all are outside, he holds up his sword to salute the knight, with hard eyes.

"I do not ask for forgiveness, sir," he calls. "For a fair fight, only. Now, come, if you will."

"As you say, sir."

The Knight draws his sword and salutes, expression calm and cold, and then moves.

Caspian is ready.

He parries, the ring of steel on steel shocking through to his hands, and steps away again, breathing a silent thanks to the dwarf who'd made this blade, before moving in again, stepping in close to knock the other down.

Parry, riposte, swing back out of reach and gauge the other man's defense. Caspian is the better fighter, although they're well-matched in strength and speed.

It would be nice, Edmund thinks irrelevantly, if he were more in the habit of carrying the blade Adam had gifted to him.

But it is back in the House of Arch, and instead he stands here, beside Eustace and Jill, for another moment.

And then he steps away, keeping his eyes on the duelling pair, walking around them to stand opposite Peter, for if this is indeed to be a fair fight it must be fairly judged.

Caspian waits while the other studies him for a moment, and then charges in once again.

Can't let him stop. Can't let him think. A few more minutes.

Thrust. Block. Step. Turn. Never close enough to hurt him, not with the edge of his blade, but a push back, a step that almost trips him. Make him angry. Make him fight back. Keep it fair. Make him mad.

The Knight parries each thrust, letting out a low growl under his breath, and lunges forward, twisting his sword around to get under Caspian's guard. Not a blow designed to injure, but to hurt.

Which it, in fact, does.

The blow could be avoided. In fact, rather easily--but in such close quarters, Caspian could not simply slip out of reach. He hesitates, not wanting to hurt his son, and the blow lands, only partially blocked by Caspian's quick slip to the side. He is not wearing armor, and it is a heavy sword.

Likely, he'll have a very pretty bruise there tomorrow, but for now he twists even closer, shoving with his shoulder to get the other man off balance and brings his own blade around.

Eustace hisses out a breath as the sword lands, and half-steps forward, fists clenched.

But he has no sword, and this is not his fight, not his fight at all, and it's so bloody frustrating that he can't do anything, but there it is. He subsides, watching intently.

Caspian's shoulder catches him midway between chest and stomach, and he stumbles backwards. And then he staggers, for reasons entirely unrelated to the duel, and goes deathly pale.

"--no--"

He drops his sword, spinning around to find the door.

Caspian grits his teeth, and grabs the other man, dropping his own sword.

"Now! It is the hour, sir."

There's an unearthly strength in the knight as they struggle, but Caspian holds firm, unmindful of whatver blows might come at him.

"I shan't let you go to the door, not this time!"

Peter runs forward, adding his strength to Caspian's in restraining Rilian.

"We will keep him here, Caspian," he says. "He will know you in a moment."

And now Eustace does step forward, hands out, ready to help.

"Steady--"

Knowing that Caspian is well handled. Jill readies herself for Rilian. Her eyes worried and stressed. Sweat beads on her head and tears well up in her eyes. She bites her lip to fight them back as she looks to Scrubb and to Peter and Edmund.

For his part in this, Edmund runs for the door, to block it should Rilian somehow escape the combined might of Peter and Caspian.