Another two weeks, another chapter. I apologize a little for last chapter's cliffy but I had to...hopefully this makes up for it ;)
Thank you so much to liz-04 for reviewing!
Chapter 9
Miranda whirls around to see a face she hasn't seen much of for a few days.
"Still can't sleep?" she teases the approaching prince with a gentle smile.
He grins just a little and takes a seat next to her. Heat from his body rolls off in waves and helps stave off the increasingly cold breezes.
"And apparently, neither can you."
They sit in silence for what could be minutes or hours before she finally asks him how he's been.
"Since the Kings and Queens arrived," she clarifies when he looks at her strangely. "It must have been a bit of a change."
He nods almost stiffly, as if this is a sore subject. But he seemed to get along with High King Peter just fine at dinner the few times she glanced his way.
"We have our differences."
He doesn't offer more on the subject, and she doesn't ask. More silence ensues, but this one doesn't feel so natural. This is more the kind of silence that falls when no one knows what to say, rather than their comfortable silences that don't need words.
This time, Prince Caspian is the one to break it.
"You asked me why I couldn't sleep back in the forest. May I now ask you the same?"
Now it's her turn to stiffen, but at the same time the invitation to speak her mind is refreshing and terrifying and exhilarating. Miranda takes an extra second to remind herself whom she's speaking to before answering.
"I feel out of place. Like I don't belong here, and I don't know what to do about that."
The prince waits, as if he knows there's more to it than that.
Miranda sorts her thoughts, or tries to, before continuing.
"And everyone seems to want to know exactly how I got here, but it's actually very personal and I don't like talking about it. I barely know anyone here. I can't decide whether it's okay to trust them after a few hours or even a few days." She only realizes she's curling up into herself when she finishes the last word and bumps her nose on her knees.
"No one would fault you for feeling so," Prince Caspian tells her. She gets the sense that if she weren't so flighty, he'd have put a comforting hand on her shoulder. To her surprise, she almost wishes he would.
Of course, she still doesn't like physical contact with strangers. Or with anyone, really. So she's just as glad he doesn't.
"I'd like to think that," she whispers, more to herself than to her nighttime friend.
"There is no need to speak of things you aren't ready to."
"My problem is that people keep asking," she explains. "It's exhausting." It is, but she never really realized it before saying it out loud.
She's not particularly traumatized by landing in an entirely new world, seeing as how a new world means a new start; she's just highly uncomfortable with how much her past seems to come up. If Aslan really did bring her here on purpose, a blank slate without so many questions would have been nice.
"If it helps, I believe they only do so because we're all confused as to why you're here."
It doesn't help, but Miranda isn't about to let Prince Caspian in on that.
"Trust me, I'm every bit as confused as the rest of you," she grinds out. She really didn't realize she's so peeved at all the questions, and she's starting to wish she had before opening her mouth and telling Prince Caspian all about it.
Prince Caspian doesn't seem to have a reply to that, so they return to a loaded silence. She stubbornly waits for him to break it again, both because she's still peeved in general and because she has no real inclination to say anything at the moment.
"Something terrible happened before you came to Narnia, didn't it?" Prince Caspian whispers after several long minutes of nothing.
Miranda's breath catches in her throat. Is she so easy to read? Is he going to start asking what it was or when it happened?
"Don't tell me you're going to start asking too," she says, trying to play off her nerves. She can't tell if it works or not.
There's just enough light from the half-moon for Miranda to see the prince shake his head.
"No. But I hope you feel at least a little safer here."
She does, but she doesn't want to admit it. After all, she's really only known Prince Caspian a few days, technically speaking. Never mind that it feels like it's been much longer than that.
"Thanks."
For the third time, the two fall back into silence. But this time, it's a little more natural than the previous two. Miranda almost breaks it to tell Prince Caspian that she missed their late night talks, but she quickly schools herself against it. That's not something she should say to someone she's only just starting to get to know.
They stay like that for some uncounted amount of time. Miranda stretches a kink from her back when she notices the sky starting to lighten from inky black to smoky gray.
"How do you train on so little sleep?"
Miranda turns to regard the prince still sitting next to her with one leg up against his chest and the other hanging off the ledge next to hers.
"I've been good previous nights. I just needed to take a break tonight."
He smiles just a little, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he glances her over.
"You needed a break from sleeping?"
"Yep." This is all she offers on the subject. Secretly, she wonders if a little of her cool tone isn't from being reminded of why she was so upset, that she never knows when she'll wake up in the hospital. More specifically, she never knows when she'll wake up and a snake from her past will be there waiting with open fangs.
Now if that isn't a melodramatic interpretation of the whole thing, Miranda does not know what is.
'Stop,' she berates herself. 'No need for that.'
"I think I should return to my rocky corner," Prince Caspian says. Is that a note of regret she hears in his voice?
"Enjoy," she answers as he stands and dusts the dirt from his pants.
"You intend to stay up the rest of the night?"
"Technically," she corrects him with a smirk, "it's early morning."
He shakes his head as if he was expecting this from her.
"Good luck," he says in parting. And she thinks he really means it.
"You too."
When Miranda returns to her silent musings after he leaves, she finds that she's still smiling.
At breakfast, Suncloud quickly tracks her down and insists on sitting with her. Miranda rolls her eyes as she bites into her apple, but she's actually flattered. Suncloud is one of those fast friends she's very lucky to have.
Oddly enough, her night of no sleep has done wonders for her mood. She's not quite so tense as before, though she's certainly had better days. She almost feels ready for a day of firing arrows. In fact, she's just on her way to the armory when she runs into Queen Susan and exchanges pleasantries.
"Good morning," Miranda says with a smile as she reaches for the bow she used yesterday.
"'Morning," Queen Susan answers as she retrieves her own weapons.
Miranda's just scrabbling for something else to say when a blonde boy appears in the doorway. Instantly, she freezes and grips her quiver tightly in her hand. He can't have gotten into Narnia, she knows that must be impossible, it's got to be impossible, right? The blonde boy is talking, and she almost doesn't care, but she figures that maybe it's a good idea to know what he's planning, so she forces her ears to open up and digest what he's saying.
"-this morning. We're meeting at the Table now," he finishes.
Queen Susan looks alarmed and takes off to follow him instantly.
"They're sure?" she says as she goes, each syllable getting quieter as she moves away.
"We wouldn't be meeting if they weren't."
Wait, he must be her brother. High King Peter, right? Yes, that's right. He does look familiar from his entrance into the How with his siblings.
Miranda's a bit soothed by that, but she still has no desire to get any closer. Blond spells trouble, she learned that. No reason to unlearn it, especially not now.
High King Peter and Queen Susan are almost out the door when Susan suddenly stops and beckons to Miranda.
"Come on, you'll want to know what's going on too," she says, waving Miranda toward her a second time.
Miranda does want to know what's going on, but she does not want to be any closer to the blonde brother, no matter who he is. He looks too similar to him.
But rather than admit all of this aloud, Miranda forces a nod. "I'll be right there, I'm just going to hang these back up." In truth, she's hoping to give the siblings a head start so she can keep her happy distance.
Unfortunately, Queen Susan is much too polite for that, so Miranda is forced to hurry instead of taking her time. She inches closer when she's done and tries not to look wary, even though she's waiting for the slightest move from High King Peter.
By the time she's beside Queen Susan, her heartbeat is roaring in her ears as she tries not to turn around, bolt back into the armory and hide among the metal.
The two siblings start walking again, mostly oblivious to her. Queen Susan remembers that Miranda and her brother haven't been introduced, and so Miranda has to fake a pleasant smile as she exchanges names and a handshake with High King Peter. The handshake alone makes everything in her vision swim.
"Sorry we didn't meet at dinner," he says as he gives her hand a quick but vigorous shake.
"Kings get busy," she answers, very much wishing he'd move back to the other side of Susan so she could stop having to remind herself that he'll let go of her hand.
He smiles briefly before he goes back to telling Queen Susan that a faun saw a Telmarine soldier this morning and they have to act fast because that soldier will bring an army with him when he returns.
An army? So soon? Miranda tries not to let on that her stomach is churning like a boiling pot at this point. An army? She's nowhere near ready to help fight an army, and she's gotten the sense that there are a fair amount of people in her same position. Not being ready for an army, that is.
Within a few tense minutes, they arrive at the Stone Table and High King Peter waits just a little while as the rest of the concerned Narnians file into the small space. Queen Susan goes toward the front of the room, following her brother. Miranda is inclined to stay towards the back so she can blend in with the crowd, but Queen Susan doesn't forget about her that easily. At her wave, Miranda finds herself shifting her way through the Narnians to stand with Queen Susan. Even if she doesn't like being towards the front, the queen's gesture warms her.
A low buzz fills the room as the arriving Narnians talk amongst themselves while they wait for the meeting to start. Queen Lucy arrives with King Edmund, though she seats herself on the Stone Table while her brother goes over to High King Peter, presumably to get the scoop. Well, if he doesn't already know.
Prince Caspian is here already, and he doesn't waste any time in striking up a conversation with Queen Susan and Miranda. For her part, Miranda lets Queen Susan do much of the talking. Strangely, Miranda isn't sure how to keep up a conversation with Prince Caspian when it's not the middle of the night.
At last, she's spared the pain of trying to come up with something to say when High King Peter starts the meeting with the news of a Telmarine soldier being spotted riding away by a guard faun.
"It's only a matter of time," High King Peter says, turning to look at every single person in the room. Miranda can't help but shrink back when his eyes scan over her section of the room. "Miraz's men and war machines are on their way," he continues.
Silence reigns as they all wait for anything else he might say.
"That means those same men aren't protecting his castle," the king finishes, looking almost grimly pleased with himself.
Prince Caspian has stood up at this point, as if he's ready for anything.
"What do you propose we do, Your Majesty?" asks Reepicheep the Talking Mouse.
Prince Caspian starts to speak at the same time High King Peter does, rendering both of their responses unintelligible. Miranda squirms a bit, the tension is so thick.
After a few highly uncomfortable moments, Prince Caspian dips his head in deference. For some reason, Miranda doesn't like seeing that.
"Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us," High King Peter posits, determination flashing in his eyes as they scan the room again.
"But that's crazy, no one has ever taken that castle!" Prince Caspian, needless to say, does not agree.
"There's always a first time," returns his opponent with a bit of an arrogant shrug.
Miranda risks a glance around the room from her seat beside Queen Susan. Many of the Narnians shift uncomfortably, looking between one leader and the other. One bold and oh so assured, and the other cautious and doubtful.
"We'll have the element of surprise," offers a blond dwarf Miranda hadn't noticed before.
"But we have the advantage here." Prince Caspian seems to know what he's doing, but then again so does High King Peter.
Miranda wonders if Prince Caspian's idea might be better, if High King Peter really knows the castle like the prince does. Didn't Prince Caspian grow up there?
Apparently, Queen Susan is thinking something similar.
"If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely," she offers, rising from her seat to stand behind Prince Caspian. He looks surprised at the support.
"I, for one, feel safer underground," Trufflehunter adds.
Miranda looks across the room to see how the High King is taking all of this. Instantly, she shivers at the displeasure plain on his face, creasing his forehead where it was smoother moments ago.
She's almost expecting things to get ugly; she tenses and holds her breath when the High King walks toward Prince Caspian.
"Look," he says, "I appreciate what you've done here. But this isn't a fortress, it's a tomb."
That was a good bit nicer than she was expecting, but the air is still uncomfortable.
"Yes, and if they're smart the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out," King Edmund says. He's one of the few, if not the only one, who stays seated as he makes his point.
"We could collect nuts?" chimes in a smaller-sounding voice. Miranda instantly decides she likes this idea the best. She thinks she can handle gathering nuts.
"-and throw them at the Telmarines!" Reepicheep answers, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Shut up."
Now that wasn't very nice. The poor squirrel (it is a squirrel, isn't it? High King Peter is blocking a lot of her view) shrinks back a little and twitches its fluffy brown tail in what Miranda guesses to be embarrassment. She feels sorry for the poor creature, voicing its thoughts in a room full of warriors.
"I think you know where I stand, Sire," the mouse finishes, perking up visibly just at the thought of a good battle.
No one says anything for a few moments. High King Peter takes the opportunity to slowly walk toward Glenstorm, who's stood by solemnly observing the whole disagreement.
"If I get your troops in," the king asks, "can you handle the guards?"
Glenstorm looks right at Prince Caspian first, almost as if he's apologizing for what he's about to say. Miranda can't see the prince's face, but she doesn't miss the slight hunch in his shoulders.
"Or die trying, my Liege," the centaur general finally answers, bowing his head in acceptance of the task.
Miranda feels her gut twist at that, though she doesn't know him very well at all. She supposes it simply hasn't hit her before now that war means death, and death can touch anyone she knows here equally as harshly.
"That's what I'm worried about."
Finally, a point of view Miranda can really get behind other than gathering nuts.
Everyone turns to look at Queen Lucy in confusion.
"Sorry?" her oldest brother says, looking dangerously perplexed.
"Well you're all acting like there's only two options: dying here, or dying there," she explains, patient as anything. Miranda wants to applaud.
"I'm not sure you've really been listening, Lu." King Peter cuts his little sister off with a frustrated frown. He doesn't seem to take too kindly to being questioned.
"No you're not listening!" Miranda's surprised to hear the young queen raise her voice. "Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch, Peter?"
King Peter still looks less than pleased at the opposition, even coming from his little sister. "I think we've waited for Aslan long enough," he says coldly, turning and walking from the room like that's the end of it.
Miranda can barely breathe with all the tension in the room. Queen Lucy watches her brother go, clearly unhappy with his attitude.
Well, he did have a bit of sass to him. Arrogance she was expecting from a High King, but she wasn't ready for the sass. How do his siblings live with him day in and day out?
Her thoughts slightly amuse her, but she schools her face to show none of it. The mood is so somber that even a half-grin would be highly inappropriate.
Are all of them going to the Telmarine castle? Is she?
Can she?
Miranda personally doesn't think she's battle-ready, though that could be her terror talking. She remembers all too well how miserably she failed at close combat. The proximity alone set her head spinning with all the possible worst case scenarios, no matter how unlikely. Well, who knew what to expect from honest to goodness Telmarine soldiers? Prince Caspian was kind, but from what she's heard he's the exception.
Heavens help her, she really really really doesn't want to march headlong into a strange castle filled with those soldiers. She also hasn't forgotten her part in stealing weapons, and how easily the soldiers thought of terrible things to do.
Everyone else in the room seems as much at a loss as she is. Some mill about, some trickle out, some talk with their friends with worry pinching their faces. No one, she notices, goes and talks to Queen Lucy. Now, whether this is because they're all somewhat occupied or because she doesn't seem like she particularly wants to talk to anyone or because they wouldn't know what to say if they did approach the youngest queen, she's not sure. But since Prince Caspian and Queen Susan are deep in conversation with Trufflehunter and she doesn't want to interrupt, Miranda makes her way over to Queen Lucy.
"For what it's worth, you've got a good point," she says as soon as she's close enough that others won't hear if they're not listening.
"Peter is determined to prove himself, I'm afraid. Leading a raid is his idea of doing just that." Queen Lucy looks far too grim for someone so young. Miranda has a bit of trouble reconciling this troubled queen with the bouncing and friendly girl she met just the other day.
"I'm sorry," Miranda says, even though she knows it won't make any of it better.
"So am I."
"Do you want company?" Miranda expects Queen Lucy to shake her head, but instead her question is met with a smile.
"Yes, I'd like that."
Queen Lucy pats a space on the Stone Table next to her. Somewhat surprised, Miranda scoots up next to the queen and tries to come up with something else to say.
"Are you going with them?" Queen Lucy asks before she has a chance to think of something.
Shrugging, Miranda answers, "I don't know. I don't think I'd be much help, honestly."
"You can stay here with me, if you like. No one can force you to go." Queen Lucy sounds as kind as always, and the words are more than just a little relieving to Miranda.
"I think I'd only be in the way if I did go," Miranda admits.
Queen Lucy nods, understanding smoothing her face. "Perhaps while we're here, we can get to know each other a bit better."
"The distraction would be good," Miranda agrees.
For more than one reason.
Mere hours later, everyone is getting ready to leave for the raid. King Peter is determined to get it done tonight, and somehow the preparations pulled through.
Never mind that there were certainly a fair number of Narnians who weren't even close to battle-ready.
Miranda stands with Queen Lucy, looking out into the sunset as the armor-clad Narnians file by, weapons in hand for some and sheathed for the rest. King Peter stands in the middle of the whole thing, with one hand resting on the sword strapped around his hip.
Prince Caspian glances over at Miranda as he goes to join the party. Her heart does a funny little skip when she notices his gaze, but on the outside she just smiles a worried sort of smile and gives a tiny wave.
She tries not to think about the possibility that he might not come back. That Nartus might not, or Urothorn, or any of her new friends. They could all die on the steps of a strange castle she's never seen before.
From the looks of it, Queen Lucy is thinking exactly the same thing. She doesn't look at her brother, standing so unmovable under the stone archway with his hand on his sword. After a little while, she moves away from her place at one of the stone pillars, fixes her brother with a disapproving stare, and walks back toward the How. Miranda follows her, already eager for morning a few days from then. Maybe not everyone will die.
Maybe.
Back inside the How, Queen Lucy still seems upset enough to walk along in silence. Miranda almost points out that she didn't eat dinner, but decides that of all things Queen Lucy might want to hear, missing dinner is certainly not one of them.
The silence grows until Miranda truly can't stand it anymore.
"I think I should get in some archery practice," she finally says as she keeps stride with the unhappy queen beside her. "Feel like joining me?"
Queen Lucy shakes her head.
"You go ahead. I think some time at the Stone Table will do me good."
Miranda almost tells Queen Lucy to come with her, but she quickly understands that particular idea is not her best. Queen Lucy probably could use time to process this whole disaster, just like Miranda could use some time to stop thinking so much. So she leaves the queen to her thoughts and heads outside to work on the one thing she might be good at someday.
Loosing arrow after arrow is soothing in a way she wasn't expecting; the rhythmic thwangs help her to only worry if she hit the target or not. She barely thinks about the raid, except when she's thinking about not thinking about it.
Instead of the raid, she lets herself wonder about how she got here, what it might mean, and what more, if anything, she's willing to share. They know she was on her way to a doctor's appointment, that she got in a car accident, that she woke up in Narnia. What they don't know is what kind of doctor's appointment, or why she crashed, or, most importantly, her exact state in the hospital. She knows it isn't good, if only from the many monitors she finds herself hooked up to and the dull aches everywhere on her body when she wakes. The occasional sharp pains come and go too, whether as leftovers from the surgery or from healing bones, she isn't sure. But she thinks she's been in that blasted hospital for at least a week or so. She doesn't think they'd keep her for a week over broken bones.
But what she does know is that she's in no rush to return. She doesn't want to wake up to see that evil thing in her room with a hand over her mouth telling her not to scream. She doesn't know if she could handle that again, doesn't know how much farther that would set her back.
She lets another string of arrows fly to get her mind off of that particular topic. Maybe it's better to wonder why she's here. Yes, that's probably a safer topic.
She has no idea.
Maybe when she gets the chance, she should ask Queen Lucy about Aslan. She seemed to think he had a reason for her being here, so that might be someplace to start.
Twang goes another arrow, this time on target. Well, on the edge, but still, it's a start. Maybe if the raid goes terribly and Miranda does have to fight in a battle, she can just stay with the archers, away from the heat of it. She really doesn't think she'd be any use down on the ground anyway.
After an hour or two, Miranda tires of her practice. More specifically, it's her arms that tire of the constant activity. Apparently, breaking to retrieve her arrows from the woods and the target and, most often, the surrounding trees, does not keep the sore stiffness from her limbs. She gathers her equipment starts off to return it to the armory.
The whole way, she wonders how close to the castle the Narnians are. Even though she knows there's nothing to be done.
"Would you mind telling me a bit more about Aslan?" Miranda asks Queen Lucy over their soup dinner that night.
This seems to perk the young queen up considerably; she smiles and agrees with an enthusiasm Miranda hasn't seen from her since before the meeting about the raid.
"He's...well, the first thing you should know is that he's not a tame lion, but he's very good. You know the story of the Stone Table?"
"I heard it, but I'm not sure if I remember it correctly," Miranda admits sheepishly, stirring her soup to distract herself from her slight embarrassment.
"That's alright, you probably heard a lot of things rather quickly. In any case, my brother, Edmund, had gone to the White Witch and Aslan had to send a small party to rescue him. They succeeded, but the Witch came back demanding Edmund's blood. Every traitor belonged to her by Narnia's ancient law, and technically that did include Edmund."
Queen Lucy's voice catches toward the end, understandably so. Miranda can't imagine what it must have been like to have a witch demanding one's brother's head. Or blood. But Queen Lucy straightens her shoulders and continues the tale.
"She wasn't backing down, you see, so Aslan struck a deal. His life for Edmund's."
Miranda's completely forgotten her soup by now, awed and touched at the idea of Aslan, the leader of Narnia at the time, offering himself for a child who'd sort of betrayed him.
"And so that night Aslan went to the Stone Table and the Witch killed him."
"The same Stone Table here?" Miranda asks. It really is different hearing the tale from someone who was so close to it.
Queen Lucy nods. "Yes. Susan and I saw the whole thing, from up in the woods. We spent the night with him, and when morning came the Table broke and there he was, standing tall and proud and whole as if nothing had ever happened."
Hearing the watery edge to the young queen's tone, Miranda pats her hand somewhat awkwardly, hoping to comfort her. She almost forgot that Queen Susan and Queen Lucy had been there.
"That's quite the tale," she says, wishing she could think of something better to say.
Queen Lucy nods as if this makes perfect sense.
"Yes, it is. But Aslan himself is quite a tale."
Miranda sits on this, thinks for a bit.
"You really think he has a purpose in mind for me, don't you?"
"Of course I do. He had a purpose for me."
Miranda remains skeptical, but she feels guilty for asking and failing to be convinced, so she nods like she gets it.
"Don't worry, you'll meet him sometime. His time can just be a little different from ours."
Frowning a bit in confusion, Miranda wonders if it's okay that she doesn't understand and she's a bit put off.
Somehow she gets the feeling that this sort of reaction isn't wholly unusual. So she stows it away for later and redirects Queen Lucy's attention to small talk, mainly asking her to recall stories from the Golden Age, as Narnia called it when the four siblings ruled the land.
She listens, but she can't quite shake her worry over the raid.
Maybe she shouldn't be so very worried, but then again, maybe it's alright to worry over people she's is fond of, no matter how short a time she's known them.
So we have her beginning to care about these people...good things :)
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