[A] The Catalyst {Plot Thread! All Old Narnians welcome!}

Reepicheep had been away most of the day, traveling to the very outskirts of the camp. There was nothing in particular that he had been chasing after, nor anything from which he felt need to escape. Only, his pride had been rather wounded by the fact that he had been excluded from the meeting between Caspian and that Telmarine - never mind the fact that all of the other old Narnians had been as well; Reepicheep liked to consider himself one of Caspian's closest friends and certainly his most ardent supporter. He, after all, had been the one gathering weapons in Caspian's name, training his men in swordsmanship, and rallying many for his cause. So, to sit in solitude and lick his wounds, he had gone a little out of the camp, but had ended up making a new enemy as well as a new friend. Now returning, he found the camp in the midst of a quiet rush that disturbed him. No one was speaking, other than in hushed voices, but everyone seemed in a great hurry to go somewhere. His beady eyes narrowing (had he been left out of yet another one of Caspian's plans?) he dropped onto all fours to chase after a messenger. He experienced the usual difficulty in trying to get the messenger's attention, but when he succeeded in doing so, he received his answer: Caspian was calling a meeting for all of the Old Narnians. Though he knew not exactly why it was to be held, this meeting gave Reepicheep a petty, smug satisfaction that the prince seemed to be at least acknowledging the Old Narnians' presence once more.

And to the meeting he would go. After thanking the messenger, he started off in the direction of Caspian's tent. It seemed grander than most, though that was not likely to be the case, seeing as provisions were so scarce as it was. There were no luxuries to be afforded for anyone, not even a prince. That was one of the many things Reepicheep, and the other Old Narnians, liked about Caspian: he was a practical sort, never asking for anything in excess or thinking himself entitled to anything more than what the Narnians received. Indeed, he was becoming a true Narnian, as humble of heart as the creatures who had pledged their loyalty to him. Well, not all of them had pledged their loyalty to him, but those who had not done so could certainly not be called humble anyway - rather, they were arrogant and stupid, in the opinion of Reepicheep and many of his comrades. Reepicheep did not really have anything against the Dwarfs, in general, but he did feel quite irritated by their refusal to follow Aslan; "irritated" being an understatement. Yea, some of the more black-hearted beasts still seemed to be in want of the White Witch's presence. It was frightening, even disgusting. It was against everything that the other Narnians, and even Caspian it seemed now, stood for - which he supposed was the point, but even the often dull-witted Dwarfs Reepicheep would have expected to learn that nothing good happened in Aslan's absence, or even that of a human ruler, after thirteen hundred years.

Perhaps that was what Caspian meant to speak to them about. At the rate things were going, Reepicheep knew that they could ill afford the loss of any soldiers to dissent - so many already were paralyzed by illness or other things, and the Telmarines' numbers, though he hated to say it, were far greater than theirs. Certainly, they had some advantage in the element of surprise - after all, not too long ago, the Old Narnians, according to the Telmarines, had been completely extinct. It would make sense that Caspian would attempt to rally the Old Narnians to his cause, especially after he had spent the entire day talking to their enemy - something that indeed did not make sense. Reepicheep hoped this would be an explanation for his actions. Aslan knew he could use something to lift his spirits after the events of the day. With any luck, they would be engaged in battle within the fortnight. His little mouth smiled at the thought of it. If Aslan was on their side - and surely he was - then they might be able to rout the Telmarines after all. Then the Narnians would have their land back, and their lives as they had once been - though no one could even remember. And Caspian would be crowned king. Really, none of it mattered, what came after. Reepicheep may be dead at the end of it all. Though he dreamed always of sailing to the utter East, he would not deny himself the opportunity to give up his life for the cause of the Narnians, just as he had already given his life to the cause in spirit if not in blood. His life belonged to Narnia, to Caspian, and to Aslan. And if it was spared after he fulfilled his duty, only then would he follow his dreams.

It was a dream come true to be fighting for Narnia at all, really. One day soon, he would be knighted, and then his life and his service to Narnia would be complete. But for now, he would toil on without any tangible reward, because he knew a reward was coming, and the real reward came simply in the earning of it. His head cleared, heart encouraged, and hope restored, he pushed through the flaps of the tent (rather heavy, they seemed to him, and a good deal larger than they needed to be - for certainly a Giant wasn't going to be in the tent... was he?) with a renewed confidence in his swagger. "My liege," he greeted Caspian with a sweeping bow at the prince's feet. Looking up with bright eyes at the Telmarine-turned-Narnian who he so admired, he continued, "I am forever at your service. For what matter did you inquire after our presence?" He anciously awaited his orders, his tail twitching in anticipation.