Before the Battle

Everything was ready. Jill knew the battle would start any minute. The last battle of Narnia. She was busy tying to calm the butterflies in her stomach, when Eustace walked over.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" suggested Jill.

"Don't I look ready enough?" snapped Eustace. "Sorry," he said after a pause. Like I was earlier, I'm nervous. I hope I don't get sick. I wish—I wish—" he stopped.

"What?" asked Jill.

"I wish you could fight with me and Tirian. I'd feel, I don't know, less alone."

Pole sighed. "I know how you feel. I'm going to feel pretty isolated out here. I'm the only archer. But it's better this way. I'm not really good with swords; I'd only be in your way. As it is, arching suits me better."

"Fighting together would suit me better."

Up till now Jill had been fidgeting with her bow. Now she looked up. Her dark eyes met his blue-green eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Scrubb turned away. Standing up, Jill made him face her. She found that Eustace's face was red. He seemed to be struggling with a reply. "Jill," he said at last; "I've known you since we were nine years old. We spar a good deal, but we're friends, right?"

"Of course," she answered, puzzled. "After we rescued Prince Rillian, you and I made up. We were pretty obnoxious back then. But of course we're pals."

"Aren't we more than that?" Eustace's face was anxious, serious.

Suddenly Jill began to sense a hot feeling on her face. Her hands tingled. She understood what Eustace meant. She began to think back, even back to the time when they were both nine-year-olds. Eustace had always been there for her. There was always a compliment on his tongue or a peppermint in his pocket. He credited her with bow and arrow skill, he made it known how much he admired her bravery. Jill had been fond of Eustace ever since the rescue of Rillian; especially in recent years, when they held the Friends of Narnia Meetings, she had begun to admire him.

She had begun to love him.

They had both changed so much. Eustace was a tall, wiry, dark-haired young man, scientifically brilliant; where was the wimpy little boy who could barely lift his sword? Jill was a beautiful teenage woman; her fears, her ferocious sense of rivalry, and her gloomy disposition had vanished. The teens stood looking at each other, thinking about each other, feeling so tremendously awkward.

Yet happy.

"It's time for the battle," whispered Eustace.

"Yeah," said Jill, breathless. She watched Eustace unwillingly turn and walk slowly away. "Wait." She caught up to him. Then, hardly knowing what she was doing, she impulsively kissed him. "You're not alone," she choked. "I'll be looking out for from back here. I promise!"

"Thanks," he said, gently hugging her. "I'll fight for you, too." Then he reluctantly broke away and joined Tirian. He drew his sword and looked very warrior-like; but he could feel his heart throbbing. There was a choking feeling in his throat. Of all the things he had to leave behind in this last battle, why did he have to leave her?

"Please let her live, Aslan," he prayed.

At the same time Jill was whispering, "Protect him, Aslan."