Cair paravel; His home.
Lucy, Edmund, Susan; His family.
Aslan; His King.
Those were the reasons that he fought. Those were the reason he lived.
They had come in the night.
Slinking through the trees and bushes. Slowly surrounding the beautiful castle of Cair paravel. They had waited until the army had left, to settle a dispute between archenland and tashban. Then they had struck, like a serpent in the night.
They rushed at the castle; armed with all sorts of terrible torture weapons. They pounced like a cat upon an unsuspecting mouse.
Soon the courtyard and the pavilion were full of terrible havoc. The enemy had a good-sized fighting force which quickly filled the space. But the narnians fought bravely.
King Edmund and Queen Susan were at the back of the fighting making sure no enemy got in to the castle, and Queen Lucy was inside tending to the wounded.
The High King Peter was in the thick of the fighting. He had grown in the art of swordsmanship and now he was mercilessly striking down the enemy that dared attack his castle.
Soon it seemed the battle was nearly won. The rebellions forces were much less in number then they had been at the begining of the attack. All seemed over when two things happened.
First: King peter was about to bring his sword down upon a dwarf who seemed to be leader of the attack.
Second: A wounded minotaur crept up behind Peter with a sword in hand.
The Dwarf smiled as High King Peter's eyes widened and he gasped; dropping his sword.