Peter's hand curled around the pommel of his sword, ready to pull it free should this meeting go sour. Negotiations were always the most difficult thing about battle; they did not get any easier, for all that the Narnians proved victorious. He wished betimes that the rumor of their rule and order would spread quicker than it seemed inclined to do so; even now, as Rabla the Faun made treaty with the harsh Under-Dwarves of the Northwest, he wished to be back at Cair Paravel instead of on the endless campaigns to remake the borders of Narnia and establish the boundaries of the rule of the High King under Aslan.
His attention was drawn back momentarily to the meeting-place, when Rabla instructed him to make his mark against the treaty. Peter signaled it swiftly and, giving a tight smile to the displeased and displaced representatives of the Under-Dwarves, left at once to return to the encampment. He waved away his guard; if they High King could not defend himself, what hope had all of Narnia?
He used the leisurely ride to think on things. Peter was nigh on eighteen now, all traces of the boy gone in favor of the High King. He took to it easily, now walking in mail and armor as if born to it, and soldiering far and wide in the name of Aslan. Boys grew quicker in battle, it seemed, and Peter bore the marks of such a life the Lion laid out for him. He no longer counted his scars and bruises; indeed, he waved away the healers when they came flustering at him, which served only to worry his sisters and send his brother Edmund to deep thought, which he had become accustomed to.
Peter looked on his siblings with kind eyes, watching them come into themselves with grace and valor. Repeatedly he denied their demands to go fight with him, three times he refused them in the name of the Lion, and finally all but Lucy acceded to his wishes. Peter knew in his heart that they had seen all the strife and hardship of war that they should bear, and he was loath to bring it upon them again. So Edmund turned to administration, and Susan to court; Lucy could barely be kept track of, such were her wanderings throughout the lands he worked to keep free and safe from harm.
He regretted nothing; for, as the High King, it was his duty and his honor to keep his precious world protected from those who would do it injury. Still, there were times, such as now, when he tired of the duties of Aslan's chosen, blight of a thought though it was.
Postscript:
1. Evangelism can also mean "militant or crusading zeal."
2. I've become very fond of postscripts.
Verse four:
What are they which are but four
Four sweet Evangelists there are,
Christ's birth, life, death which do declare.
words © SA. characters, show, and people not mine. no infringement is intended.