Alright, Chapter 4! It's actually a little hard to believe I'm this far in...it isn't very far at all, but it feels like a huge step from posting the prologue. Pat yourselves on the back, because I couldn't have kept this going without you guys and your support :)
Thank you to Dark-Enough-Conspiracy-Theory and liz-04 for the wonderful reviews! And thank you as well to all the followers/favoriters/readers out there!
Is this chapter a little shorter than previous ones? Yes. Why? Because it was the only place I could cut it, anywhere else and it'd be way, way too long. But never fear, I'll try to make the next chapter a little longer than usual to make up for it ;)
Chapter 4
'He has a really deep voice,' Miranda ponders as the four of them follow the dark-coated centaurs through the woods.
It takes her a few moments to notice the prince that's come up next to her.
"I can take him," he offers, sounding just a little friendlier than before.
She shakes her head and pretends her arms aren't burning from holding up the wounded badger.
"I got it."
"I'm right here, you know," Trufflehunter grumbles, glancing up at her dryly.
"Sorry?"
They continue the walk in a silence that's, quite simply, awkward as all hell. The centaurs make their lack of conversation seem stoic, Nikabrik is sullen as usual (less so now, however), Trufflehunter has the excuse of his wound, and Prince Caspian just doesn't seem to know what to say. She can understand that; she's not sure if she should attempt to start a conversation or just walk along silently like the rest of them.
She goes back and forth on this admittedly trivial problem until they get to the camp. Camp? Well, it's more of a clearing with a few haphazard tents and old fire pits that look days old. Did everyone just get here? And how did they all hear one measly horn?
"Bring him here," says the tallest centaur who spoke before, gesticulating for Miranda to come with him.
"He'll be okay?" she asks, because even though it's just a dream Trufflehunter is kind and she doesn't like seeing him in pain. She broke out of a flashback for him, for heaven's sake.
"I'll be right as rain in no time, Miranda, don't you worry," Trufflehunter tells her with a pat on her arm.
She smiles what she hopes is a reassuring smile and leaves him in the care of the centaur whose name she still has to learn. No sooner has she walked two steps than she realizes that she has no use here whatsoever, and she has no living clue what to do with herself.
She supposes she could try and sort out whatever's wrong with her head, but that'll take energy and she's not sure she trusts anyone around here enough to go down that road. While she's sorting it out, she'll be vulnerable, and that's one thing she can't afford to be in a new place with so many new people, creatures. They could want nothing more than to kick her out, and she'd be none the wiser.
"You look rather lost."
Miranda whips around at the deep voice behind her. A centaur spoke, one of the four who first greeted them.
"Hi," she says, because what else do you say to a total stranger with half of a horse for a body?
"Suncloud. And you are?"
"Huh?"
"Suncloud is my name. And what might yours be?"
"Oh! Sorry! I'm Miranda." She sticks out her hand, expecting a very firm handshake, and the gesture is greeted with a confused tip of the head.
"I guess you guys don't do that here," she says, awkwardly letting her hand fall back to her side.
"Do what?" he asks.
"Shake hands."
"Show me."
She quirks an eyebrow at the command that sounds more playful than ominous and sticks out her hand again.
"Take it, palm to palm." He does as she says, though their massive height difference means he has to bend at the waist. "Now shake."
She laughs as he literally shakes her hand.
"No, like this." She demonstrates, and he picks up, and it's a little less awkward than before.
"Well, now that introductions are out of the way, would you like a tour of our lovely camp?"
She considers this for a moment before deciding there's no more danger in that than staying put. "That'd be nice, thanks."
"This way," he says, leading her to the right, the opposite of where she was before.
"This is the food area, where meals are made and we gather to eat." He leads her through a maze of fire pits that she didn't notice at first glance, some of which are still smoking, and past a tent that smells like a rich, earthy something.
"Whatever that is, it smells good."
"Bearn is quite talented at making even rudimentary ingredients into something delicious." He leads her out of the food area and into a more open space, with targets and wooden sticks laying about in some complicated pattern she can't figure out.
"The training area," he explains. "We're always preparing for a battle."
"More like a war, if you ask me," she says as they walk past a team of fauns (or satyrs, she's not sure which name the goat hybrids go by here) making rough weapons from branches. Not a war they'd win, granted, but she's not about to say that thought out loud.
"To us, it's much the same thing." He continues past the slightly intimidating racks of more weapons to a path that leads to a place she can't see.
"What's down there?" she asks, secretly hoping he'll just tell her and she won't have to walk down a strange path with him, a person she just met.
"There is the clearing, where our meeting tonight will be." He looks down at her, with a face that has worry lines that look odd on a face so young. "The prince blowing the horn, the Kings and Queens on the way, and the unexpected arrival of a Daughter of Eve are all things we must discuss."
"Wait, how am I important here?" she interrupts. She's sure the Narnians are quite lovely, but she really hates standing up in front of crowds, particularly crowds of strangers whose motivations she can't even begin to take a stab at.
Suncloud stops and regards her like she's a child in need of a lesson.
"You are a Daughter of Eve; you must be here for a reason."
"Yeah, well I'll tell you as soon as I figure it out," she mumbles. 'It's just a dream,' she tells herself. If she's honest, it really doesn't help all that much.
"We will figure this out together."
"That's what they all say," she mutters back, under her breath so maybe he won't hear. Honestly, what he said is perhaps the most predictable thing on earth that could have come out of his mouth.
"I'm afraid I do not understand; who is they?" asks the centaur.
"Never mind." She waves it off, trying not to let her embarrassment show, even though it's heating her cheeks and making her skin feel tight and pinched. "Anywhere else I should be aware of?"
Suncloud turns from the path and walks to the side of the camp she dropped off Trufflehunter.
"Here is the sleeping area."
"It's a big empty space."
"We sleep on the ground," says the centaur, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.
Miranda tries not to cringe. She'll be welcoming the feel of the hospital bed when she wakes up.
Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Suncloud moves on to the tent where she left Trufflehunter.
"This is the healer's tent. If you have an injury or illness, this is where you go."
She silently wonders if they have a shrink in there.
"And that's all there is," he concludes.
"Not too difficult, but I'll come crying to you if I get lost."
Miranda relishes the slight cringe that wrinkles the centaur's face.
"If you must," he manages.
"Not a fan of criers?"
"No. I do not understand the need."
"Well don't worry, most people don't. Crying is kind of a mystery; psychologists are still trying to figure out why we do it."
"Psychologists?" He stumbles over the unfamiliar word a little, his mouth screwing up at the corners as he tries to figure out how best to pronounce it.
"They're people who study the mind. I usually call them shrinks, just because that's more fun to say than psychologist."
"Shrink is much easier to say. I think I must call them such."
"A wise choice."
And there it is again: the awkward silence that often descends between people just getting to know each other who're trying unsuccessfully to think of something to say.
Miranda shifts from foot to foot to distract herself as Suncloud does the same next to her.
"So, we can stand here awkwardly, looking like idiots, until one of us comes up with some excuse, or we can attempt pleasant conversation, or we can go our separate ways. Your turf, so you pick," she blurts out. It's much easier than just standing here.
"Your forwardness is quite…" She waits for words like 'obnoxious' or 'exhausting' to some out of Suncloud's mouth, but he surprises her. "…refreshing."
A grin splits Suncloud's formerly serious face. It takes her so much by surprise that she grins right along with him.
"I think pleasant conversation would be the best of the three, don't you?"
Miranda keeps grinning, because she wouldn't mind a new friend here in her dream-world and Suncloud seems to enjoy her forthrightness, as he put it. Who better?
"Sounds great to me. So I guess we start with getting to know each other?"
"Very well. How did you come to be here?" Suncloud asks as he starts walking again, more casually this time.
"I'm not sure. I was in an accident, where two machines collided, and I woke up here."
"Hmm. And you remember nothing of how you arrived?"
She shakes her head. "No, I woke up in the forest and Trufflehunter took me in." She hesitates, because she's unsure of whether she should mention how it's just a vivid dream and when she wakes up she's back home.
"And what else?" he gently prompts.
'What the hell,' she thinks. And she tells him.
"How odd…" he muses in reply. "You believe all of this to be a dream?"
"There's really no other explanation. Even though dreams are usually self-centered, my guess is that the pain medication they put me on is making my dream psyche go haywire."
"Unless you dreamed of returning home, and you truly are here."
"Don't you wish," she retorts, with a grin to cover up how uneasy that thought makes her. She didn't want to consider that option, because if she really is here then she's got to deal with the whole mess of figuring out how to get back.
She clears her throat and changes the subject abruptly. "And now it's your turn. I know your name, but that's all I know. Family? How you came to be here?"
"I am the son of Glenstorm and Windmane, and I have two brothers: Rainstone and Ironhoof. We are some of the few Narnians left, after the Telmarines tried to wipe us out after taking our home." If Suncloud notices her unease, he's kind enough to let it go without commenting.
"I'm sorry." She can relate to the part about losing a home, if she really is here.
He dips his head in silent thanks and continues. "We gathered when the sound of Queen Susan's horn echoed throughout the forest. When the Kings and Queens of Old arrive, then we can take back our kingdom."
"Wow. That's much more interesting than my story."
Suncloud smiles down at her. "We each have our own, and now you are part of ours. I suspect you will find yours more interesting sooner than later."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now, next getting to know you question! Favorite food and favorite color, go."
"My favorite human food would have to be warm porridge with cream and cinnamon, a luxury I have not had but a few times. And my favorite horse food is fresh spring grass."
Wait a moment...horse food? Does he eat horse food too? Naturally, in the true spirit of getting to know him, Miranda asks exactly what he means.
"Centaurs have two stomachs: one of a horse, and one of a human. We must eat to fill both," he explains with amusement sparkling in his eyes as he regards her shock.
"Well, I haven't heard of that before," is the only thing she can think of to say. A single centaur probably eats as much in one sitting as she does in a week. Time to change the subject again, as standing there gawking would be rather rude.
"And your favorite color?"
"Dark green."
"Like an emerald?"
"Like pine."
"Good choice; pine smells good too."
He chuckles and sinks down next to a stump.
"Indeed. And now I believe it's your turn."
Miranda sits on the stump and says, "My favorite food is ice cream, and my favorite color is white, because it's all of them at once, our eyes just can't see it."
"Ice cream?"
"Oh man, you guys don't have that in Narnia?" At his shake of the head, she proceeds to explain the wonder of the frozen treat. "…cream and sugar and you can add any flavor under the sun that you can think of."
"It sounds wonderful."
Miranda nods enthusiastically. This is in her comfort zone, and she likes it.
"It is. I'll have to see if I can think up a way to make it here, because everyone should know what ice cream tastes like." She's beaming, she knows, but she can't help it. This is the first time she's felt comfortable since coming here.
"If you need a pair of hands to assist, I offer up mine."
The formality mixed with the playfulness confuses her a little, and she tells him so.
"As you can probably tell, I don't speak quite so formally," she finishes, pleased that he looks amused and not insulted.
"I am well aware," he chuckles. "What else would you like to know about me?"
"Well, I actually have kind of a selfish favor to ask…" Miranda trails off in embarrassment, staring down at her shoes and suddenly becoming very aware of the fact that her clothing is very 21st century and not at all medieval or Narnian. At least it's only jeans and a flowery top, and not shorts that barely cover her behind.
"I will happily oblige for a lady." Suncloud's tail flicks back and forth, looking very much like a cat's and not at all like a horse's.
"A brief history of Narnia would be very helpful, because everyone keeps talking about the Kings and Queens and Telmarines and Prince Caspian mentioned Aslan and I'm just really confused about everything." She gulps in a greedy few breaths after expelling the entire long sentence in one.
"Where do you wish me to start? From the creation of Narnia or the history from the Golden Age?"
For a moment, she's surprised he's actually going to humor her. But she recovers quickly and just says from the Golden Age. She probably doesn't need to know everything there is to know about Narnia, after all.
The two of them sit there for hours as he tells her everything about how the Golden Age began after the Great Winter, how the Pevensies defeated the White Witch and became the Kings and Queens of Narnia, enthroned at Cair Paravel. And he tells her about the Telmarine invasion too, after they disappeared while hunting the white stag.
It's a bit of an information dump, but it's what she asked for. She absorbs as much as she can, knowing she'll have to clarify some things as she goes, but all in all she's much better off now that she has at least a rudimentary idea of Narnia's history, in particular the Kings and Queens everyone is buzzing about.
Miranda's quite torn between wanting to meet them and wanting to shoot them. She's sick of hearing their names already. It takes several mental reminders that they're probably quite lovely people for her to stop cringing inwardly every time she hears their names in passing.
"I think that is more than enough history for today, don't you?" Suncloud says as she sits silently, digesting everything she's heard.
"I've had my crash course, it was wonderfully told, and I'm ready for a long nap," she admits.
"Crash course?"
"Quick once-over of the basics of something, in this case Narnian history."
"Ah." Suncloud lurches to his feet and extends his hand to help her up, which she accepts with a smile. "If you wish to rest now, I will leave you to it. Do remember to come to the gathering tonight."
"Why is it I have to be there again?" Miranda tries not to sound like a petulant child, but she's not sure she succeeds. She really, really wants to sleep and wake up and see her mom again, and hopefully her dad too, if he's not at work.
"You are a Daughter of Eve." He says that like it's obvious, and it makes her want to growl and stomp away. So she has two legs instead of four; what's so special about that?
"Right." She opts for a more diplomatic thumbs up and skitters away to the blank clearing of grass Suncloud told her was the sleeping area earlier. It takes her several minutes to settle on a spot, one not too close to the rest of camp but not so far on the outskirts that she's outside its protection.
To her surprise, she nods off as soon as her head hits the grass.
She opens her eyes to a white-washed ceiling that makes her miss the green canopy of the Narnian forest. An absurd thing, really. 'Narnia isn't real,' she has to remind herself.
She's also very aware of the fact that she's alone in this hospital room with only the incessant beeping of the heart monitor to keep her company.
It's…lonely. She isn't one to shy away from solitude, but she feels lonely. Really, really lonely; the gaping kind that feels like suffocating.
Miranda lays there in silence, listening to the steady beeping and wishing her mom or dad was there. But a glance at the clock shows her that it's nearly 4 in the morning. She'll be on her own for several more hours, until the nurse comes in to check her IV drip and maybe her temperature too.
"What am I supposed to do?" she says aloud, to break the silence. "I could count sheep. Or maybe make up a story about every object I can see in this room. Maybe I could sing something!"
Except she can't sing to save her life. Tone-deaf is the best compliment she's heard with regards to her voice.
"Maybe count the IV drip drops?" This is so ridiculous she makes herself smile, a strange feeling to say the least. Why smile when no one else is around to share the joy?
"Or I could think about Narnia again."
Oddly enough, this seems to be the least disagreeable of the options she's previously considered, so she nods to herself and begins.
"Well, it's nice there. All woodsy and nature-ified. It's pretty, and peaceful when we're not running from soldiers or arrows, or stalking a prince, or meandering through a camp filled to the brim with strangers."
Miranda feels like an utter idiot, talking to herself in the middle of the night like this, but what does it matter? No one's around to hear her anyway. At least, she hopes so. If there is, well, they'll have a night of entertainment until she falls back asleep.
"I'm going to miss Narnia, when I'm off these meds," she realizes.
It's absurd to miss something that doesn't really exist, but the dreams are so vivid that she feels like it does exist, even if it's just for a few hours while she's asleep. It feels real, even though it isn't.
Maybe it's because she's met so many people, and her head doesn't usually dream up a lot of new faces. And they're kind to her, even though most of them are half animal or all animal. But they can talk, and they make her feel welcome underneath her quiet anxiety at being in a strange place with strangers who haven't necessarily proven she can trust them just yet.
And she flashes back a lot less there.
They'd been happening off and on for the past week before she took genuine notice of them. They started out small and insignificant, and gradually grew until she crashed a car in her panic. And there, in the world she's somehow dreamed up, a world she is and isn't sure is her own wild imagination, she feels safe.
She has no idea what to make of that.
"Well, I can't live in a dream world," she reasons aloud. So she can't get too attached; she'll have to try and remember that next time she dreams. She'll have to ask the doctors about this to, next time she's awake and they're here.
What will they say? They won't throw her in a psych ward, right? She'd rather not admit that as a fear, but it's there just the same. She's not crazy, is she?
If only she had someone to talk to. But wait; she can talk to someone in Narnia, just for the catharsis. A dream person knowing won't do any harm, right? Why would it? Dream people aren't real, or so she has to keep telling herself.
She wonders over this idea for what feels like minutes, but must be quite a bit longer, because she sees the room lightening up after a little while. A nurse with bags under her eyes comes and checks on her as she tries to catch a glimpse of the rising sun through the blinds. Miranda tries to ask to speak to a doctor, but she's told they'll be in to check on her soon, and even when she's trying to explain that she might not be awake and she needs to talk to one now, it feels like she's being brushed off.
"She'll be in today, and you can see her tomorrow if you miss her," the nurse insists before walking unceremoniously out of the room.
"But I need to talk to her now," Miranda whispers to the closed door.
All she wants to do now is go back to sleep and go to Narnia where the people she speaks to listen to her. But she can't, not until she figures out how this dreaming thing works. Not until she's sure it's safe to pour out everything she wants to a friend she's just met. She can't take chances, not with this.
So she waits, and waits, and waits. At some point, she thinks she feels a phantom hand on her shoulder, and she braces herself for the panic that she's sure will be here any second. But it doesn't, leaving her confused but still determined to wait for the damn doctor.
Miranda tries to stay awake, she really truly does, but in the end she loses the battle, just as she thinks she hears footsteps in the hallway.
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