Forgiveness and Healing

Lucy looked from her brother to the dwarf. They were sitting in a small room towards the middle of the Howe for privacy. A table had been placed in the middle of the room where a map was now sitting.

"That's your next big plan. Sending a little girl, into the darkest part of the woods, alone!" Trumpkin's voice rose in frustration.

"It's our only chance," Peter replied, his voice calm and controlled.

Lucy's eyes glanced over toward Trumpkin, who was still red in the face.

"And she won't be alone," Susan added beside Lucy.

Lucy let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Then I'm coming with you," Trumpkin pleaded, addressing her.

Lucy's heart went out to the dwarf that had already helped Narnia so much. She would have loved to have him come along, but she knew that it would not be necessary. He would be far more needed here than where she was going.

Softly, she put her hand on the dwarf's shoulder and said;

"No. You are needed here."

Lucy then looked over to the tense form of Miranda. She knew what the next few seconds would hold, and did the only thing she could do.

"As are you Miranda."

Miranda's head went down and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Lucy knew that what she had just asked her to do was one of the hardest things she would ever do. But there was no other way. Miranda needed to be here.

"You don't like making my job very easy; do you?" Miranda said as her head lifted up.

Lucy smiled knowingly at her friend and she sat down beside her.

"I never did make it very easy; did I?"

"Never!"

"Then for Aslan," the noble Reepicheep stated.

"For Aslan," the bulgy bear repeated.

Lucy then looked towards Peter, who had become silent.

"We need to stall the Telmarines long enough for them to get back," he said.

"If I may," Caspian's voiced from his seat nearer to the shadows. Peter nodded towards him, and Caspian stepped forward.

"Miraz may be a tyrant, and a murderer. But as the new king, he is subject to the ancient ways of our people. There is one in particular which may buy us some time."

"And that would be...." Edmund said.

"A challenge of single combat."

The room became suddenly still and silent. Almost as suddenly as it happened, the silence was stopped.

"No your highness!"

"Miranda, it might be our only hope," Peter replied, obviously knowing it was him she was speaking to.

"Yes, it might just be. What I am saying is that I do not want you to be the one doing it."

"How do you know that I will do it?"

"I know that look in your eyes Peter. I did not serve under you as a Warrior for fifteen years for nothing," Miranda said, her eyes flashing.

"Miranda, being the High King means that I am the one that has to send the challenge and fight the duel. That is just the way of things," Peter said in a tired voice.

"And if you do it, than I cannot come in between you and death!" Miranda nearly shouted. Her eyes were wide with fear and her muscles were tense. "The last time you did this, you nearly died!"

"But I didn't," Peter replied coolly.

Miranda looked away from his face and took a deep breath.

Lucy looked over to her eldest brother. She knew that the words had not been easy for him to say. But just as Lucy knew she was needed here, Peter knew that Miranda could not be the one to fight the single combat.

Miranda finally turned her face toward Peter, and said;

"Issue the challenge than Peter. Just... don't get yourself killed."

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Peter was quiet as he helped Edmund into a suit of armor. As soon as that was done, Edmund would go to Miraz and give him the challenge. Then, hopefully, Miraz would accept, and they would fight to the death.

"I cannot come between you and death."

If Peter wasn't going to be truthful, he would say that Miranda's words didn't bother him. But they did. He took it for granted that Miranda would always be there to save him and his family. To always make sure that they were safe. But as she had said those words, it dawned on him that she wouldn't always be there. And the thought almost scared him.

"Peter?"

Peter broke from his thoughts and began to quicken his motions.

"Sorry Edmund. I guess I got a little bit distracted."

"You seem to have a problem with that lately."

Peter looked up at his brother, and there gazes met. Edmund's eyes were dark and serious; and something else.

"What do you mean by that Ed?"

"I'm talking about what happened with the Witch."

Peter's gaze faltered.

"What happened Peter? Why didn't you stab her while you had the chance? Why was the look that I saw on your face showing you wanted her to come back?"

Peter didn't look into his brother's eyes for a moment. He recognized the thing he hadn't before.

Hurt. He had hurt his brother when he wanted to set her free. And why wouldn't he be? The Witch had almost killed him, and there Peter was, wanting to set her loose.

He almost wanted to say that he had put under a spell, that he didn't want to do it. But he also even more didn't want to lie to his brother.

"She showed me a vision Edmund," Peter finally said. "I saw myself as King of Narnia again, with no Telmarines or any other enemy in my way. I saw her under my control; under my power. And I wanted it."

Edmund's eyes were filled with hurt and pain, but Peter continued.

"For just a moment, I forgot what she did to you. And what she did to Aslan."

Tears began falling down Edmund's face. But he had to know this last thing.

"Then, you stabbed her. And I saw again who she really was, and what would really have happened if I had set her free. Then, I saw that her image had been covering the image of Aslan. If I could tell you the guilt and shame that came over me at that moment...."

Peter had not realized until that moment that he had been crying. The guilt and horror of what he had almost done came back like an ocean wave.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up. Edmund's face was streaked with tears, and the pain had not left his gaze. But the hurt had. A soft smile grew on his face.

"I forgive you Peter. I forgive you."

The two brothers cradled each other in their arms until no more tears could be shed.

Finally, Edmund pulled away.

"I'd better get this message to Miraz."

"Yes, I suppose you should," Peter replied with a smile.

Edmund was at the door when he turned around and said;

"You need to go talk to Miranda."

Then, he turned and left.

"I know," Peter thought. "I know."

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Caspian wasn't sure what to make of the Warrior. Her back was straight and rigid, and her left hand clutched the hilt of her sword until her knuckles were white.

As soon as King Edmund had left, the Warrior had stationed herself at the entrance of the Howe; waiting for him to return.

Caspian started when he felt someone beside him. It was the High King.

"What's wrong?" King Peter asked him.

"A few things," Caspian answered.

"Like what?"

Caspian hesitated for just a second.

"I owe you an apology for what happened last night. I should have been at the gate; and instead, I was out trying to avenge my father's death. But at the cost of every Narnian life. And I am sorry."

The High King said nothing for a moment, then replied;

"I didn't do much better than you. I was trying to put myself back on the throne when I knew that I should be helping you. And for that, I also apologize."

The two didn't speak for a moment before King Peter said;

"What was the other thing that was bothering you."

Caspian glanced over at the Warrior.

"What's wrong with her?"

The High King's gaze rested on the Warrior, and a soft smile crept onto his face.

"She is worried."

"She has been sitting there since your brother left," Caspian remarked.

"I'm not surprised. She always did that in the old days too."

"Why?"

The High King looked at him with surprise, which quickly dissolved into sadness.

"Has Narnia changed so much that we are remembered, but the Warrior is not?"

He then turned around and took a torch from one of the poles.

"Follow me."

Curious now, Caspian followed.

King Peter took him through the tunnels of the Howe until they came to the paintings and drawings on the walls. Caspian still looked in wonder at how four children sprang out of another world and defeated the White Witch.

The White Witch. The mere thought of her sent chills down Caspian's spine. She was all a story in a fairy tale until she had come to him face to face. Everything suddenly seemed so blurred and confused that he didn't even know what he was doing. All he saw was a vision of Miraz lying dead. Then, it all vanished when King Peter pushed him, and King Edmund stabbed her.

How could he possibly become king of Narnia if he couldn't even withstand her?

Caspian stopped abruptly when he realized the King Peter stood still. Without him even noticing it, they had traveled to a part of the tunnels Caspian had not yet seen.

"I want you to look at this," King Peter said.

Caspian looked at the walls that were illuminated by the torch the High King held, and gasped. Pictures of the Battle at Beruna were suddenly shown, and Caspian saw on a horse black as night, the Warrior of Narnia. The picture showed the Warrior with short hair like a man's.

"Did she....?"

"No," King Peter quickly replied. "That is a mistake that later Narnians made. That the Warrior was a man."

Caspian's gaze lingered on the great image. The Warrior was dressed in silver armor with a red coat of arms on her chest. She held her sword high, her black horse rearing with excitement.

King Peter reached out his hand and stroked the image of the black horse.

"That was Onyx," he explained. "One of the greatest Narnian horses alive."

Caspian's gaze traveled over the walls showing battles and wars that the Warrior had been in. But suddenly he stopped. He came up closer to an image of the lion Aslan; the Warrior kneeling before him.

"That was the day she accepted becoming the Warrior of Narnia," the High King said.

Caspian gazed up at King Peter.

"Why did she accept it?"

"Because Aslan chose her. And that was reason enough for her."

"And why did Aslan choose her?"

The High King smiled.

"No one will ever know. My brother, sisters, and I will never know why Aslan chose us to be Kings and Queens of Narnia. He just did. And we accepted the gift he gave us. It wasn't easy, but it was well worth it."

Caspian still had one more question.

"High King Peter....."

"Please," he said in a exhasperated voice, "No more. No more King Peter, High King, High King Peter, or even sire. Just call me Peter."

Caspian let out a loud laugh.

"Was it really that bad?"

"Yes," Peter replied.

"Well then, Peter, what was the oath she took? I know that she took one, but what is it exactly?"

Peter was silent for a moment, and his face looked like it was remembering.

"It was the day of the battle. We had just found out that Aslan was dead, and everyone was looking to me to lead them. Miranda stepped forward, took out her sword, and offered the hilt towards my brother and I. Then, she said that under the power of Aslan, she had been named Warrior of Narnia, and that she would do all that she could to protect Narnia, all who lived in it, and if it came to it, to come between us and death."

Caspian thought for a minute.

"Sounds like she took her job quite seriously."

"She did. I don't remember many times that she wasn't in a battle with us."

Remembering something, Caspian said;

"My professor says that the night I escaped, he had been warned by a Narnian arrow shooting through his window that Miraz would kill me that night. As I was talking with him earlier, he said that he believes that the Warrior..... Miranda I mean, was the one that shot the arrow."

"Again," Peter said, "I'm not surprised. Aslan has certain ways of telling her when things are going wrong."

Caspian chuckled. Then, he became solemn again. Something else that the professor had said came to him, and it wasn't pleasant.

"He also told me that he found a prophecy that foretells her death."

Peter's face suddenly became grave.

"That prophecy was made years ago by a centaur whom I greatly trusted. Whether or not the prophecy will come true or not, I don't know."

"Don't you think that someone should tell her?"

"She already knows."

Caspian's eyes suddenly went wide.

"Then why is she so calm? Why does she not live with any fear of this?"

"Because she trusts Aslan. Nothing happens without a reason, and she doesn't believe that she should live her life in fear for it."

The two were silent for many moments, when a satyr came walking towards them.

"Your majesties, the King Edmund has returned from Miraz's camp."

The two exchanged a glance, then ran past the satyr to the front of the Howe as fast as they could.

What they found was Edmund and Miranda in a fit of laughter.

"Well..." Peter said.

"He...He... He accepts your challenge," Edmund managed to get out through his laughter.

"Yes," Caspain breathed.

"Indeed," Peter agreed. Then looked on the two with a little bit of concern.

"For goodness sake, what are you two laughing about?"

Edmund stifled his laughter for just a second.

"If you could have seen Miraz's face when I was over there," he began, then started another burst of laughter, making Miranda laugh even louder.

"Would you two stop laughing for just a second and tell us what's going on?" Peter said, trying to hide a smile.

"First of all, he called me Prince Edmund," Edmund started off, then, holding off another bout of laughter, he said;

"Then, he was getting all angry at a lord called Sopespian, because he suggested that because of your youth, Miraz would be right to refuse. That started Miraz off in a fury. And I didn't make those matters much better."

Edmund was interrupted by Miranda trying to stifle her laughter. Caspian looked over to Peter, and realized that he was trying to hold back his own laughter.

"Then, I said that he was courageously refusing to fight a swordsman half his age. And if you could have seen his face...!" Finally, Edmund could do nothing more than laugh. That started Miranda off again, which started Peter off. Then, to Caspian's surprise, he found himself laughing. The four laughed until they could feel tears run down their cheeks. And no one knew the reason why!

Oh, it felt so good to be able to laugh.

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Miranda opened the door to the room that the dwarf had said her armor was in. It stood on a pole, light dancing off of its silver shine. The red tunic with the golden lion in its middle looked almost as if it had never touched battle before. Slowly, Miranda put the armor on, remembering the battles she had gone through before in armor much like this one.

Finishing with the armor, she braided two small strings of hair that came just behind the ears. Then she put the rest of her hair in a half tail, just enough to keep it out of her face, and secured it with a red pin that looked like the golden lion on her tunic.

Strapping her sword and knife to her waist, she looked at herself in a mirror. She hardly recognized herself from the small fifteen year old girl that had been staring at her for the last year. A girl with skimpy hair, pale skin, and tired eyes. No; she was looking at the Warrior of Narnia now.

A sudden knock on the door made her jump as she reached for her sword.

"Miranda," Peter's voice came through the door, "It's me. Might I come in?"

Relaxing her hold on her sword, Miranda opened the door. Peter was dressed in full armor, holding his helmet in his left hand.

"Can we talk for a moment?"

The tone of Peter's voice was strained and sad. Miranda had a feeling that she had better listen.

"Of course Peter."

Peter walked into the room, and immediately began pacing like a caged animal.

"How are you feeling?" Miranda asked, trying to get his mind off of whatever was bugging him.

His face turned toward her, and he gave a weak smile.

"To be honest, not so good."

"Did your sisters make it out alright?"

"Yes, thank you. Caspian saw to that."

He began pacing again, then, as if lighting struck him, he stopped.

"I need to beg a huge apology of you Miranda," he said, his voice strained. "I have acted beastly and selfish and not like a King of Narnia should." At this, he paused, looked her squarely in the eye, and said;

"And I haven't acted like a very good friend either. Please," he pleaded, his eyes begging, "Please, forgive me."

Miranda looked closely into Peter's eyes, and saw the light shining through him that had not been there before. And she knew, finally, that High King Peter the Magnificent had returned to Narnia once more.

"Of course Peter. Of course I do."

The two friends embraced each other, and Miranda knew that the old Peter was back again.

"Oh," Peter said, "By the way, you might be wanting this."

And from his belt, Peter pulled a necklace Miranda knew all to well.

"Where did you find it?" she shrieked as she took the miniature sword from Peter's hand.

"It was in my things back at Cair Paravel. I had a feeling you would like it back."

"You knew right," Miranda replied, securing the necklace on her neck. She noticed that Peter was wearing his necklace as well, and something else she recognized.

"Isn't that the silver bracelet I gave you when you turned nineteen?"

A wide grin spread across Peter's face.

"You know it!" Then, a strange expression coming across his face, he said;

"And isn't that the pin I gave you when you turned twenty-two."

Miranda laughed and nodded her head.

"I remember the reason why I gave it to you as well," Peter continued, giving a chuckle.

"Yep. After we battled the giants on the Ettinsmoor plains, I complained that I could never keep my hair out of my face during a battle, no matter what I did."

"And I had an older dwarf make that for you so that at least a small bit of your hair would stay out of your face."

"That's right," Miranda ended.

A knock on the door warned them that it was time.

"Are you ready for this?" Miranda asked.

"Nope," Peter replied. "But then, I never was."

The two left the room and went towards the Howe's entrance. Suddenly, they both heard a strange noise.

"What's that?" Peter asked.

"It's the eastern ocean," Miranda replied in a worried voice.

"I'll be back in just a second," she said, then turned and ran before Peter could ask anything.

Finding Caspian near the side entrance, Miranda said;

"The queens left this way?"

"Yes, a short while ago."

"Then if I might ask you to do me a huge favor."

"Of course," Caspian said, though his eyes told her he was confused.

"Then saddle a horse and follow them. I have a feeling they're in trouble."

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