[X] Aggravations and Irritations {Reepicheep}

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Prince Caspian

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Played by Cara

"Cara has managed to...create a character that is both mythical and life-like. Impulsive, moody, and yet kind and good-hearted, Caspian is just beginning to show the makings of a true leader."
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[Thal Deverell]

The day was only getting later, and Thal had still been unable to speak with Drinian (he refused to call the man "Lord" in his thoughts - at least there he could save some dignity). This entire camp was making the wandering man uncomfortable, even a bit anxious. Thal was not worried for himself - he felt quite positive that he could easily escape any traps set by these forest creature - but Drinian and Adelliana were beginning to bother him. Would neither of them ever learn to keep a cool head about themselves? Thal felt responsible for the whole group, and it was not the sort of thing he enjoyed. Responsibility for himself was much easier. No one commanding him, and no one to command. If not for his little sister Shayla, Thal would have never entered this war at all. But she needed a life, and this was his only option for now.

Drinian, as far as he could tell, was still speaking with the Prince Caspian. Now doubt they were laughing about their childhood days, and doing nothing diplomatic. Thal cringed at the thought of what might be happening inside. There was a small hope that the war's overbearing importance was too much, and they were completely focusing on that. Still, that was enough to give Thal a few uncomfortable ideas as well. He should be there listening, making sure nothing completely terrible was decided on. What if Drinian and Caspian created some kind of... agreement? Miraz would kill them all. Detestable man. In all truth, Thal would rather be with Drinian than "King" Miraz. Better a young-hearted foolishness trying to do good than an old heart's proud declarations of evil. Of course, Miraz did not exactly proclaim to be evil, but anyone could tell you he was not good.

For now Thal was sitting under a tree a few yards away from the huddle of Narnian tents. He could watch everything from here, but was not forced into a conversation with anyone. His eyes were alert, and his sword was always on the ready by his side. It wasn't really extra caution - this had become habit with Thal. Always he was on watch, always his muscles were tense and ready, and always his sword was by his side.

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep walked stiffly through the camp - the Narnian camp, though an ignorant observer might not guess such judging from the amount of men running around it.  Men, Reepicheep supposed, were all right by him, but only since Caspian was one and Narnia had not been right since one ruled.  However, another thing that Caspian was, though he had done his best to shake it off - that Reepicheep found despicable - was Telmarine.  Yes, there were Telmarines.  In the Narnian camp.  The indignity of it all had been nearly fatal to Reepicheep upon the discovery of this.  And things had not improved throughout the day, which was proving to be insufferably long.  While he despised Telmarines on principle, these had given Reepicheep many more reasons.  Such as taking up his Majesty's time while they should have been planning a battle.  But now, instead of defeating the Telmarines, they may as well be having a tea party with them.

Peace talks, they had said.  Pah!  Peace would not come until the Telmarines had been routed, and not only that but soundly so.  In fact, Reepicheep felt quite ready to draw his rapier on the very next one he saw.  Feeling quite disgusted - and knowing full well that killing a Telmarine would be regarded as having been done for "no reason" and not be looked favorably upon - Reepicheep went away from the group to sulk.  He had not been invited to the tent to be a part of the discussion, and this would have been insult enough if a Telmarine hadn't, but indeed they had.  Reepicheep had not met the chap - Drinian, they had called him; the name was whispered through the entire camp - himself, but looked forward to doing so.  Perhaps this Telmarine's loyalty could be tested by a blade.  That was the way real warriors did things.  There was none of this nonsense to be suffered.

Nearly seething with rage and disgust, Reepicheep retreated to the tall grasses where he could be miserable alone, since it was quite clear that his services were no longer needed by his king.  Was Reepicheep bitter?  No, not really - it was only that Reepicheep was the best swordsman Caspian had in his entire army, not to mention the very first.  All right, perhaps he was quite bitter, but rightfully so, he thought.  There was a tree up ahead that Reepicheep considered climbing, as practice for a mast (if all else failed, he could always fulfill his dream of sailing to the end of the world).  But he stopped dead when he realized that it already appeared to be claimed - and by none other than a Telmarine.  The Mouse trembled with fury, and whipped out his rapier faster than you can say his name.  He glared up at the man, who, thankfully, was armed.  A fair fight.  He spat out a challenge: "What are you doing here?", referring, of course, not to the tree but to the glorious Narnian camp in general - in which he was quite certain that an enemy did not belong.  And this was indeed an enemy, for he was a Telmarine.

[Thal Deverell]

Thal had just begun to think that he truly would attain a moment of peace. No one had come towards the tree he had selected, and everything in the camp below seemed relatively calm. Still, he did not relax. Thal never relaxed, and especially not in an enemy's camp. Drinian would be relaxing, and Dharr had made it apparent that she trusted these creatures too. Thal did not, and he could not. The idea of trusting almost anyone was beyond him, let alone to trust an enemy. There was something so... un-knowledgable, he decided, in the way certain people tended to think. Naivety was not a good trait to have.

But this tranquility was only to last a few moments, for Thal noticed a little figure coming towards him. His brow, though hidden behind long, hanging hair, creased slightly as he tried to make out what it was, exactly. It was some kind of small creature, and, as it came closer, he became quite sure that it was a mouse. With a sword, nonetheless. The creased brow suddenly rose slightly in surprise - Thal had not known mice were part of Narnia as well.

It came closer, but apparently noticed Thal - who did not consider himself a Telmarine, even if he was fighting in their army - and came to a halting stop. The mouse seemed absolutely consumed by fury, and Thal began to wonder if he had disrupted a sacred tree, or something of that sort. Just as fast as the mouse had stopped, his little sword whipped out and was held ready in hand. Generally in such a situation Thal's sword would be out just as quickly - but he could only look strangely at the mouse for a moment more.

With force and command in his voice, the mouse demanded to know Thal's reasons for being in this place. This caused Thal's eyes to grow larger, and his eyebrows rose higher - which was an extraordinary site to see from Abenzio Deverell, to say the least. But he had not been expecting such a thing to happen, and it had taken him completely off guard. The whole situation seemed illogical to the highest degree.

"I am only resting," he said at length, after trying to hide his shock. Still he did not pull out his sword, but his hand did slide to the hilt, where his fingers rested tensely.

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep was admittedly confused by this Telmarine.  Most of the time, their philosophy seemed to be kill first, think later.  Granted, Reepicheep had not seen the principle in action himself, he believed the tales he had heard to be enough evidence of it - in the first place, they had done their best (it had not been good enough, thankfully) to eliminate the Old Narnians once, and now that they had discovered their existence again, Reepicheep had been expecting them to do the same with the same brash, thoughtless action.  It was his hope that this tactic would be the Telmarines' downfall.  But it appeared that, though their morals had not, their military strategy had evolved over time, even if it was only slightly.  Really, did they expect anyone to believe that they actually wanted peace?  The Old Narnians had learned ebough from their experiences to know better than that.

But this Telmarine, who stood and watched him with an apathy that unnerved the Mouse, did not seem to care whether there was war or peace.  (He didn't look to care about anything.)  For certainly he was not moved to either.  He was set apart, by what seemed to be his own will, from all the other Telmarines.  Indeed he was apart from them.  The fact that he refused to draw his weapon angered Reepicheep.  He was tempted to call the man a coward for not doing so, for not fighting what seemed to be "just a mouse", but he realized that it was doubtful that his indifference could be chalked up to fear.  With his sword, at least he had a chance at life.  The real thing that bothered Reepicheep was that he was not supposed to fight an unarmed man (he wondered if having a weapon on their person counted, if they did not draw it.  He supposed not).  Which meant that it would really be no fun to kill him.

Caspian would be upset with him if he found out that Reepicheep had killed a Telmarine while they were trying to negotiate peace.  But, in spite of his prince's wisdom and discernment in all other aspects of war, Reepicheep thought that Caspian could be quite blind when it came to the rules of his people.  Or, rather, the total lack of.  After all, the simplest concept of "thou shalt not murder" was well ignored by the Telmarines, as had been demonstrated well to Caspian by his own uncle's attempt to murder him.  Reepicheep did not trust the Telmarines a bit.  He would have liked very much to kill them all singlehandedly (this, mind you, would not be murder, but war).  This strange Telmarine, however, caught Reepicheep quite off guard.  Rest?  There was no rest in a time like this.  Perhaps the Telmarines had more of an advantage than he had thought.  Or perhaps it was all an illusion.  No, he could not trust this Telmarine (or any of them) - no matter how "peaceful" he seemed.  It was all an act, to be sure.

"Soldiers do not rest," Reepicheep retorted stubbornly.  His beady eyes narrowed, he observed the man's hand move to rest on the hilt of his sword.  "Draw your weapon," Reepicheep commanded crisply.  "I have longed for the day when I might fight a Telmarine."  There had been a few scattered times before, when he had been gathering weapons or more memorably when he had first encountered Caspian (he had almost dispatched the prince), but none of them had been on these grounds, of invading his territory.  (Technically, all Narnia was old Narnian territory.  But that was beside the point.)  In any case, Reepicheep wanted to duel this man, for he knew that he would win.  And if he did not, then he was not worthy of the life to fight.

He watched the Telmarine critically, waiting for the man's next move.  His challenge had been punctuated with a few threatening stabs of his rapier into the air.  Hopefully the man would take the challenge seriously.  For once it had been issued, Reepicheep would be sure to follow it through.

ooc: bleh.  Awful.  Sorry :/

[Thal Deverell]

Thal was almost always found apart from everyone. Why? It was simple really - he did not feel like he was a part of anyone. Nay, he did not really wish to become a part of anyone at all. The only reason that Thal was fighting in this war was for the sake of his dear little sister. If she had not been in his life, he would not have been in Narnia at all. Life was better when one was alone. Searching and scouring the world, not leaning on anyone else's strength but your own. Yes, it was lonely. But loneliness was better than betrayal, and Thal felt more secure with himself alone than to claim any group for his own. And the Telmarines were the perfect example of why Thal had chosen to live in such a way. Lies, power, and self. That was all he had ever seen them care for - and he did not want to be associated with such things. A strong bond to his siblings was the only thing that kept Thal from straying completely from any sort of political institution or normal way of life.

So here he was, soldier in a war that he would rather not have been involved in at all. But he would stay, and he would fight. Miraz was a tyrant, yes. Drinian was inexperienced, yes. The Narnians were less than up to par, yes again. But Thal would stay, because he wasn't about to leave his sister alone, and she deserved the possibility of at least a somewhat normal life. Too much of it was already ruined by secrets that were forced to be kept due to her mother and their father's lack of anything good.

But that was of little concern at this particular moment, for Thal was being faced with a mouse, of all things, who seemed ready to slice his head off at any moment. Thal had to wonder if said mouse could even manage to reach his head though, and became more puzzled by the minute. The furry creature was practically growling at him, demanding a fight. Thal stood, towering over the little character, hand ready to pull his sword out at any moment, but not doing so just yet.

"My party has come here in peace," he stated simply, looking down at the creature who seemed so eager to fight him. Did that mouse not see it's obvious fate if he would? Thal was so much larger and skilled and, well, human. But beyond all that it would be a fool's errand to take up a fight with a Narnian soldier in the Narnian camp.

Thal's hand fingered his sword more tightly as the mouse thrust his rapier into the air. If this little fur ball forced him to fight, he would have to defend himself. Surely even Drinian could not dispute that.

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep noticed with disgust the way the Telmarine was eyeing him as if he didn’t expect that the Mouse could kill him.  Try me, Reepicheep thought, silently issuing a challenge with his stance.  He stood up straight and proud and tall (well, not exactly tall), his tail erect to keep him balanced, and, if needed, ready to propel him upwards.  Mice, though they were small, were extremely agile, and could do a flying leap and neat roll into the air as if it were nothing.  But even easier was the classic Mouse move, which would certainly be employed in battle.  The common tactic was common for a reason, or rather a few reasons.  It was fast, it was easy, and it was effective.  All it would take was a slice to the ankle – the man would fall and Reepicheep would finish him off.  It was all too simple.  Or at least, it should have been.  But this Telmarine was too complicated, and his next statement caught Reepicheep off guard.

At the Telmarine’s insistence that they had come in peace, Reepicheep deflated a little.  One might say that the wind had gone out of his sails.  How was he supposed to kill someone who didn’t even seem to want to fight?  It was doable, but it was simply no entertainment, and it was technically outlawed.  It didn’t at all fit into the code of chivalry which Reepicheep followed to a tee.  Now he had two things to hold against the Telmarine: he was denying Reepicheep the opportunity to fight, and he was now spouting lies… in addition to all of his previous offenses, the most glaring of which was simply the fact that he was a Telmarine.  The Mouse glared up at the man, his black beady eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “Peace?  Such a word means precious little to you lot, I would think.  So far you’ve done nothing to make it, nor preserve it, by my account.”  His little furred chest was puffed up with pride at the statement.  Yes, Reepicheep had done his research, and was quite proud of himself and his fellow Narnians.  Before the Telmarines had arrived, there had been peace in Narnia for many years.  Fifteen years of peace certainly paled in comparison to thirteen hundred years of war, but really, it was much harder to end a war than it was to start it.  Not that the Telmarines would know this, for, as Reepicheep had said correctly, nothing had been shown that they had done anything in favor of the Narnians or even an attempt to reconcile things.  They continued to plunder Narnia and thought that the Narnians would simply sit back helplessly.  Well, they had best think some more, because that certainly wasn’t going to happen.  The Narnians were preparing to fight, and Reepicheep was glad to say that he was at the forefront of this movement.

The thing that irritated Reepicheep the most was that this man, who was most certainly a Telmarine, was not at all acting like a Telmarine.  Truly, a Telmarine would have come into the camp with a legion of soldiers, and then started slaughtering every Narnian in sight without speaking or asking questions.  But this one…  He was speaking to a Mouse and didn’t even seem all that surprised that he was doing it.  He hadn’t even hardly touched his sword.  While Reepicheep might have marked this as cowardice – he could not fight an unarmed man, after all – he grudgingly admitted that it also meant that the man showed no intention of provoking him.  This was good, because the Narnian camp was safe, but it was also bad, because Reepicheep had no grounds to attack him as he so desperately wanted to do.  Perhaps Reepicheep was – it was difficult to say – wrong.  The Telmarine had done nothing Telmarine-like so far.  Had Reepicheep made a false assumption in thinking that the Telmarine was like all of his countrymen?  …But they were all alike, weren’t they?  All they did was plunder, pillage, steal and kill.  …Right?  Reepicheep felt like he was on his very last nerve, because the fact that the Telmarine was not even acting like a Telmarine was confusing him to the point of frustration.

It seemed like this Telmarine didn’t even want to fight the Narnians.

By now, Reepicheep’s annoyance had birthed intrigue.  “Exactly what is your party?” he demanded, inserting as much derision into his voice as was possible so that the man would not think that he was actually curious.  Certainly these people, who had come to the Narnian camp without causing any real problems, were not normal Telmarines.  Reepicheep hadn’t had much experience, of course, but he did have some, and he knew that these were not at all what he had expected.  He shouldn’t have been happy if they had been, he knew, because it would have meant that they would have started with their characteristic destruction, but his confusion had upset him.  He didn’t like being confused.  And he certainly didn’t like being wrong about something.  Nor did he like being ignored or underestimated, both of which Caspian was doing at this very moment in favor of talking to the Telmarine-leader-man.  Continuing to glare up at this man, Reepicheep began to tap his diminutive foot impatiently, as if he actually had someplace he was supposed to be (thanks to the stupid visitors, he didn’t, but it made him feel important).  There was something very strange about him, about all of them, and he couldn't decide what it was.

[Thal Deverell]

There was something about his lack of fighting that was setting this Mouse at ease, Thal could feel it. Despite the small stature – though for a mouse it was rather large – he was assuredly a warrior in every way. The fire in those beady, little eyes, the way he gripped his rapier, his stance… everything lead to Thal’s immediate decision that this creature – though small – was a definite warrior. Whatever he was supposed to make of that, he had absolutely no idea. The thing looked as if it could fight, but Thal highly doubted that he would fight anything twice, if not more, his size. A Mouse against a human? The very idea was laughable.

But Thal rarely laughed, and rarely did he admit to any humor at all. So that little opinion was kept tucked away inside the depths of his mind.

When the Mouse spoke, a sense of bitterness seemed to come with the words. There was reason in it all, Thal supposed, what with the Telmarines completely destroying their country and all. But that was not Thal’s doing, and it was not his fault that he was here. But it did no good to ponder on the things he could be doing were he not here, and so the man did not let his mind wander to such topics now.

But Thal found himself to be in a rather awkward situation, though his mannerisms did not show it in any way. The Narnian at his feet was completely correct – when had a Telmarine ever wanted peace? Granted, King Miraz was the only real sample Thal had to base off of, but that was well enough. The lot of them seemed to be full of pride and stupidity. There were a few cases which were not completely lost, however. Lord Drinian being one of them. As much as the man lurched dangerously on the steps of driving Thal mad, he could be given some grace for his youth. King Miraz had no excuse at all. And Thal had a great sensation to hate the man.

Thus, answering this question about “his” lot was a difficult one, and Thal had to pause before he could respond to it properly. When one felt more inclined to agree with the supposed enemy than the original ally, it did create a bit of confusion. After the pause had lasted a few moments, Thal’s mouth opened and four simple words came out. “I am not them.” Words that may not have had so much significance as words alone, but to Thal they meant a great deal. He hated being associated with the pathetic Telmarines – or anyone at all, really.

When the Narnian proceeded to ask what party belonged to Thal, that little pause of silence came once more. It was a very common occurrence with Thal, for a few reasons. The man did not enjoy speaking at all, for one thing. And when he actually did speak he usually enjoyed taking the time to ponder what he would say before he said it. This often created a lengthy silence before anything, and could even be annoying.

“And what reason do I have to tell you?” he said at last. Information was meant to be handled carefully, and there was no need to make himself sound estranged from the very party he was fighting for in front of his enemy.

[Reepicheep]

((ooc: yuckkk.  sorry))

He did not like being assessed.  Normally, an assessment from anyone other than someone he knew very well did not bode very well for Reepicheep.  It resulted in words being thrown around – words like “cute”.  He glared up at the Telmarine, summoning up every angry thought he could to make his stare as fierce as possible in the hopes of intimidating him.  If a rapier and a glare didn’t scare him off, what would?  He would have thought that the despicable Telmarines would be wiser than this, and would know a threat whine they saw one.  Then again, they had gone years insulting the Narnins, never expecting that one day they would rise up in revolt, and this all worked nicely to the Narnians’ advantage.  Perhaps being underestimated was not always a bad thing.  But Reepicheep hated being insulted nearly as much as he hated the Telmarines, and being insulted by a Telmarine was an insufferable combination.

He hated this!  He hated the fact that he couldn’t tell what the Telmarine was thinking.  He supposed their society was one founded on deceit.  Perhaps, in this case, it was good for the Narnians that the Telmarines did not know what they were up to, but at least each Narnian knew what the other was doing.  They trusted each other.  They had to band together, if they wanted any chance of defeating such a well-established foe.  Reepicheep knew that they could do it, but it been a large struggle to convince the others of the same.  Still, he, with the help of Caspian and others, had managed to do it.  If only they could engage battle; then things would truly be solved, and it would be the Telmarines who were finally defeated.

This silence was almost more than he could bear.  He would rather hear singing – the singing of his rapier, slicing into the flesh of a man who was not any help to him alive and would be no burden to him when dead.  He should, like all the other Telmarines, be cold and lifeless.  But the key word there being should.  By Aslan, this man was impudent!  Was he a Telmarine or wasn’t he?  He looked like one but didn’t act like it.  Reepicheep’s irritation and confusion only grew when the man murmured that he was not them.  What did that mean?  Was he a Telmarine or not?  He wore a Telmarine sword, had a Telmarine outfit, and… acted… nothing… like… one...!  Reepicheep was trembling in indignation now, feeling like he was being tricked.  Oh, these Telmarines!  How he despised their foolish, useless games!

What reason did the Telmarine have to tell Reepicheep what his party was?  The noble Mouse had to struggle not to scoff.  "None very good," Reepicheep said, with feigned casualty.  Then he jabbed his rapier at the man, not to actually injure him but just to let him know that Reepicheep was being serious, his beady eyes narrowing as he snarled, "Just your life."  Admittedly, the fact that the man had claimed no real love for Miraz had somewhat reduced his bluster, but the simple fact that he was a Telmarine was enough.  He glared at the soldier, assessing him.  "And if, as you say, you are not one of them, what reason do you have not to tell me?  Surely you have no loyalty to anyone but yourself - that's how all of you are, isn't it? - and know better than to deny me what I ask."  By now the anger that had birthed curiosity had engulfed it, and it no longer mattered what the answer was as long as it was given.  Reepicheep was tired of being disrespected.

Panting now with righteous anger, and a bit winded from his speech, during which he had not taken a breath, he demanded, “Well?  Are you a Telmarine, or aren’t you?”

[Thal Deverell]

Thal was usually a calm man. He didn’t always feel calm, but long ago the man had trained himself how to appear calm throughout almost anything. Almost. But even now there were slipups and mistakes at times. However, they were rare, and one had to say or do just the right thing to cause those emotions of anger or hatred to show one bit on Abenzio’s visage.

One of those things was being built up into a greater and greater tower by this Mouse. The creature could have continued testing Thal’s ability to remain at peace, or sneering at the Telmarines in general, or even poking him with that sword. None of that would have mattered. But to say that Thal was like a Telmarine was going too far. Much too far. Thal’s jaw visibly clenched and he whipped his sword out of its sheath, glaring at the Narnian in front of him.

The steel clanked against the rapier that was threatening to gouge into the man’s flesh. “I am not a Telmarine,” he hissed through his teeth, his eyes narrowing as his face lowered slightly so that he could be closer to the Mouse’s eyes. “Do not dare to compare me to them.” His eyes flashed, not quite reaching the point which one might call “fire” but rather getting an almost cloudy, smoked kind of look. Obviously, Thal’s anger had been awakened – the man was actually showing some kind of emotion!

In actuality, Thal was part Telmarine. The entire reason his younger siblings had been able to mature into adulthood in the slightest decency of setting was because their parents had each been a half Telmarine. But Thal would not have anything to do with it. Their grandmother had, after all, been from Archenland. And Keir – Thal’s father – was so despicable that Thal would not – could not allow himself to – admit them as blood relations at all. So Thal preferred to remain anonymous, claiming no particular place as his home. But never, ever, ever, claim that the man is a Telmarine, and, of all things, acts like a Telmarine.

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep, instead of being in awe that the man had pulled his sword on him, looked pleased.  Finally, he had goaded the man into drawing his weapon!  Now the real fight could begin.  But strangely enough, Reepicheep found that he had lost his motivation somewhat, another and increasingly larger reason why he was beginning to hate this man who was Telmarine and claiming not to be.  Perhaps he was lying to get Reepicheep to take his guard down and then he would kill the Mouse, being a Telmarine and thus being a liar.  They were all the same.  Or at least, they were supposed to be.  This was what was throwing Reepicheep off.  He was aware that all Telmarines were liars, but never before had he heard of one lying about whether or not they actually were Telmarine.  He had expected that they would take pride in their race, as Narnians did in theirs (the one thing they had in common). 

He had not, however, expected the Telmarines to be this clever, always thinking of new ways to trick him.  Well, it wouldn't work.  If this soldier thought he could get away with saying he was not an enemy and then turning out to be one, Reepicheep had his own blade ready.  Really, it was all quite peculiar.  Why would someone who needed to convince him that he wasn't an enemy be wielding a sword?  But for that matter, why would someone who really was not his enemy be wielding a sword?  They wouldn't, in either case... which didn't help matters much, for Reepicheep remained just as conflicted as he had been before.  He still had no idea whether or not the soldier was a Telmarine.  In all likelihood, he was, and was just bluffing.  But how was Reepicheep to know this?  If the man would just stop dodging the question, then he would know for certain.

Unless he lied again (had he even lied in the first place?  If he had once, he would again, but how was he to know this?).  And was he dodging the question because he was really a Telmarine pretending he wasn't in hopes of fooling Reepicheep and catching him off guard to kill him?  Or was Reepicheep just being paranoid about an innocent man?  Unlikely.  No man was innocent.  They were only liars, like this one.  "Forgive me for, upon seeing you dressed and armed as a Telmarine and arriving here with a group of Telmarines, daring to think you such," Reepicheep sneered, refusing to move his blade from the spot where it now crossed with the soldier's.  He gazed coolly up the sword in his potential assailant's hand to glare at his face.  "Tell me then, Sir Nobody," he continued, in a voice that was as stuffed as could be with derision, "if you are not a Telmarine, then what are you?"