I can't think of much to say for these chapter's notes, so I'll just get right to it :) Thank you to rosegold1996 for reviewing!
Chapter 11
That night, Miranda sleeps fitfully. She tries for a few hours to force herself to nod off, but it's no use and she soon takes to her usual routine of going outside to a ledge and watching the clouds float across the moon.
She's alone, to her slight surprise. Even though Prince Caspian had only come out to join her once since arriving at the How, she somehow thought that their old routine would begin again. Apparently not.
But then, he does have a lot on his mind, and maybe he's finally exhausted enough to sleep through the night. She hopes so.
Her own mind is surprisingly blank tonight, in spite of the day's many events. The return from the unsuccessful raid and the almost-raising of the Witch have given her plenty of food for thought, but it seems there are no thoughts to be had tonight, only a vague sense of unease.
She curls up on the damp grass and stares up at the sky like it has the answers for her. Miranda very much wishes something would give her answers. Answers to questions like what she's actually doing here and why she still can't feel completely safe and why she can't shake this nagging feeling that something is very wrong. A lot of things are wrong, obviously, being in the middle of a war, but it's more than that.
It's about home.
And Miranda's trouble is exactly that; she doesn't want to think of home, because home is where terrible things happened that she still can't shake. Just thinking of what happened has her trembling like she's in the middle of it again, has her palms covered in a cold and slippery sweat that feels gross and out of place. It happened some time ago, a few months at least, and she'd somehow forgotten all about it until a few weeks ago, and now it won't leave her be.
Well, in her defense, she did have quite the unwelcome visitor the last time she woke up at home. In that horrid hospital that smelled like stale sickness and dry jello. Miranda thinks that she really can't be blamed for not wanting to go back there or think about any of it at all, but that's what she's been doing and it's absolutely no help. She needs to start to face it, but how? How can she face something she's not even strong enough to force away?
She just doesn't know, and she'd so like some help with this, but who can she talk to? Miranda is keenly aware that she can't hardly profess to know anyone here very well. Her closest friend is Suncloud, and she isn't sure she's brave enough to talk to him about all this. But maybe trying wouldn't hurt?
Yes, maybe trying would at least ease some of the burden. Suncloud is someone she can trust, she thinks.
Miranda barely realizes that her eyelids are slipping closed until they finish their descent and she's already almost asleep.
She eases her eyes open to a familiar ceiling and that damn incessant beeping.
"Miranda?"
She knows that voice. And she thinks that perhaps she's never been so happy to hear it in her life.
"Leila?"
Sure enough, her best friend is here, holding on to her hand like if she lets go Miranda will fade away and never come back again.
"Hey there. You've looked better." The joke almost falls flat as a single tear spills from Leila's big brown eyes, landing with a wet plop on the back of Miranda's hand.
"You too. Crying gives you a red nose, you know," Miranda croaks out. Her voice is dull and scratchy with disuse here. She spends more and more time asleep, from what she can guess.
"My best friend's been out like a light for weeks and you're worried about my nose?" Leila shakes her head, another tear falling. "Christ, Miranda, you can be so ridiculous sometimes."
"Learned from the best."
The banter feels good, even more so because Leila is a friend she's known for years and not days.
Just then, two more wonderful people burst through the door and pull the curtain aside.
"Hi Mom, Dad," Miranda says, trying not to cringe at how utterly horrid her voice sounds.
"You're awake, kiddo," her dad says, staring down at her with watery eyes.
It's an odd sight; she's never seen her dad this close to crying before.
"We've been so worried…" her mother trails off, right hand clutching her forearm like she always does when she's trying to keep herself together.
"I know, I'm sorry." Miranda tries to get out a laugh. "I swear I won't drive on that side of town again."
Her parents laugh too, but it sounds pained. Leila just squeezes her hand.
"Your mother and I will drive you for a bit, kiddo. You did quite the number on your leg."
"What's the damage?" All attempts at levity feel awful, but Miranda can't help but hope that it will help the people around her.
"You broke your leg in several different places, a few of your ribs broke too, your collarbone. And you went in surgery for shrapnel." Leila's voice shakes on the last sentence, but Miranda is too surprised that she answered to address that right away.
"But don't you worry, you're going to be just fine," her mother says, at least speaking aloud.
Miranda can tell at once that she doesn't believe it. Leila's hand tightens around hers again, and she tries not to think that there is definitely something they're not telling her.
She smiles and pretends like she believes her mother anyway.
"Just give me a little time and I'll be good as new," Miranda says, trying to sound as chipper as she can.
"Take all the time you need, kiddo." Her dad's voice breaks at the end, but she pretends not to notice. If something is terribly wrong and they aren't telling her, then it's probably because they can barely handle it themselves. No need to make it any worse for them.
"Is there any water in here?"
"Oh of course honey!" Her mother flutters around to the tray on the other side of the bed and holds a plastic cup of water up to Miranda's lips. Miranda sips at it, surprised by the effort it takes. Then she remembers her collarbone. She shouldn't try and sit up, then.
Miranda nods her thanks once she's finished and asks Leila about school and college applications, because last she remembers those were coming up.
Leila tells her about the art schools she's applied to, and jokes that Miranda had best get on her apps, or she'd be stuck at home for a while until the next season for apps came around. Miranda mentions community college and makes them all chuckle just a little when she asks if she can take classes from this bed because it's actually quite comfortable.
When sun hits its peak outside, she begins to feel the telltale drowsiness that means she won't be back here for a while longer. As much as she hates to go, she isn't sure if she can help it. Maybe the pain meds are causing the drowsiness? Or maybe her body is just trying to heal? Whatever the case, it's been maybe an hour and a half and she's already fading.
"Can I see the doctor real quick?" she asks. Better to know what's actually wrong with her now.
"Of course." Her mother hurries out of the room and her dad keeps a conversation going to help her stay awake. Leila's hand never leaves hers, even though their palms are getting sweaty from the extended contact.
Miranda's impressed – her mother returns with a middle-aged woman with glasses and white doctor's coat inside three or so minutes.
With a smile that she hopes looks braver than she feels, Miranda asks to talk to Dr. Kim, as the doctor introduces herself, alone. Her parents both kiss her forehead before they step outside.
"We'll always be here whenever you wake up," her mother whispers. That promise warms her.
Leila just lets her hand go gently. "I'm right outside if you need me."
And then Miranda is alone with Dr. Kim.
"So," Miranda swallows against the cottony feeling in her mouth. "What's really going on?"
Waking up in Narnia after the news is disorienting, to say the least. Miranda lies there in the sparse grass for what feels like hours, staring at nothing and thinking about everything.
How can she be so bad off? The accident wasn't that bad…
And yet, apparently it was. Bad enough that they couldn't get all the shards of metal out in time, bad enough that she had internal bleeding that they could barely control, bad enough that they couldn't stop the infection in time. Bad enough that she has mere weeks left of life. She wasn't even supposed to wake up that time; it meant the pain meds were too close to wearing off.
Worse, weeks seem to go by in days here in Narnia. So by that token, she has days left.
A distant rumble pulls Miranda from her raging thoughts, but it quickly proves to be too miniscule a distraction.
What happens when she…stops…living? Surely she dies here in Narnia as well. Should she give the people she knows here a heads up? Maybe not, she can't be that important. But how is she going to say her goodbyes at home? Leila and her parents deserve a goodbye, but she might not wake up again to give them even that. And how is she supposed to say goodbye? She's known Leila for years and her parents for her entire life. How is she supposed to just tell them goodbye and she's sorry to leave so soon and she wishes she'd never gone on that side of town?
How is she supposed to tell them that it was her fault she wrecked the car and her life, all because of a little bit of paranoia?
At that thought, Miranda wants nothing more to curl up into an even tighter ball and never move again, but the rumble is slowly getting louder and harder to ignore. What is that, anyway?
With a heavy heart that tells her the rumbling doesn't matter one little bit, Miranda forces herself to sit up at least to see what it is before she returns to her dark musings. She stares out at the field and the forest beyond for several long minutes before the effort is too much and the rest of everything else she has to worry about comes flooding back.
She's dying. How is she supposed to process that? And yet she has to find some way of acting normal, like nothing at all is the matter, otherwise people will ask questions and questions are the one thing she simply cannot stand any more of right now. Her secrets are her own, thank you very much.
"And they're secrets for a reason," Miranda mumbles to herself, twisting her fingers in a patch of particularly long weeds. She grimaces at the dirt that packs under her fingernails and wishes that was her biggest problem.
Dirt under her fingernails; how nice that would be.
At once, the rumbling again grows too loud to ignore completely. Miranda turns an annoyed eye back to the plain in front of the How and is surprised to see movement in the trees. That movement quickly gives way to rows and rows of marching soldiers and rolling catapults.
"Of course Miraz would pick this particular morning to show up at the doorstep," Miranda grumbles. "He couldn't wait a few days until I'm dead, now could he? No no, tyrants don't run on anyone's schedule but their own. Honestly Miraz, you had one job."
Vaguely, she wonders if the sass that's so unlike her is coming from her inability to process her impending death. On the other hand, saying those words amuses her to practically no end, and so she deems it necessary to continue.
"It's like you know I hate the idea of being in a battle or something," she grouses, tugging the weeds from their earthy home. "I'll be dead soon enough, it's not like I need you to hurry the process along with your damn swords and catapults and crossbows and general shenanigans."
Why does it feel so very refreshing to be complaining about a guy she's never met to the thin morning air? Maybe she likes blaming someone else for her problems, even for just a few moments, but she's also not really done this kind of sarcasm before and for the moment, it's addictive.
"You know Miraz, for all your inconsiderate behavior of late, I have to appreciate that you're making a handy scapegoat at the moment. It's like I can blame you for your terrible timing."
This shouldn't feel so refreshing, but it does. However, Miranda hears hurried footsteps on the ledge above and to her left, so she hushes in the interest of keeping her new brand of humor to herself. She glances up at the new arrivals only to see that it's the Kings and Queens, come to join Prince Caspian in watching the arrival of his spectacularly rude uncle's army.
And apparently, said uncle decided to top off this whole excessive display with a cavalry that streams down the middle of the neat regiments of Telmarine soldiers. It only furthers Miranda's sardonic irritation with the whole thing. To top it off, she notices they're all wearing masks.
"More power to you, Miraz, but I'd think those masks make for a very uncomfortable experience. Not that I care; in fact if your soldiers hate your imposed wardrobe then so much the better for the rest of us that you had to wake up with your blasted marching." Miranda makes sure she says all of this under her breath so the royalty won't hear her.
"Mira!"
Miranda puts away her new sarcasm for the time being and stands to greet Suncloud.
"Good morning. Well, not that it's very good with this army, but you know…" she trails off, her customary trouble with words coming back to her easily.
Suncloud shrugs and scrutinizes her. "Indeed. Are you alright?"
Miranda screws her lips into a tight, thin-lipped smile "There's an army waiting to slice everyone here limb from limb, myself included. I'd say I've had better mornings."
To her surprise, this brings a dry smile to Suncloud's normally serious face.
"I should hope we've all had better mornings than this one." Her centaur friend hesitates, as if afraid of her reaction to whatever he's planning on saying next. "Are you…that is, do you plan on…"
"Fighting?" Miranda finishes, stuffing down the acerbic comment she'd like to make in favor of something more like herself. "I don't think it's much of a choice. Even if I did find a nice corner to hide in, those soldiers look like they'd be more than happy to stumble onto my corner and skewer me."
Suncloud looks pained at that, and she realizes that comment was a bit too much. "You mustn't speak like that Mira, we'd make sure you were kept safe if you didn't want to fight."
Miranda shrugs and tries to look grateful, even if she's decidedly cynical of their ability to do so. Battles are busy places, after all. Anything could happen. Just like at roads on the wrong side of town.
"Sorry. I guess I'm just a bit scared. I was awful at the hand-to-hand stuff, but I'd feel lousy just sitting this one out. Especially after the…" she trails off when she remembers that Suncloud's brother died in the raid that she was about to reference.
But Suncloud clearly knows what she was about to say; his face looks pinched as soon as she stops speaking and he can't meet her eye.
"Suncloud I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"It's alright, you have a fair point." Suncloud sounds like he's graciously forgiving Miranda's slip, but he's still looking everywhere but her.
"Still, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up." Miranda really wishes she'd thought a little more before opening her mouth. She didn't mean to remind Suncloud of losing his brother.
A moment passes, but Suncloud finally meets her penitent gaze. "Thank you."
The sound of marching soldiers grows and grows, mixing with the hoof-falls of the cavalry and the rickety rolling of the catapults, drowning out their words. Miranda is a bit relieved, even though she does not appreciate the noisy reminder of what she'll soon find herself smack in the middle of. Like any normal 21st century girl from Earth, she's never been in a medieval battle before.
At last, the intimidation march seems to be done; the army stops marching and just stands still, staring down the How and all the Narnians turned out watching as if they've committed a grave offense and deserve to die, or something equally as extreme. Well, in their defense, they probably think of the Narnians as dangerous insurgents threatening their way of life, but still. The Narnians were, technically, here first.
"Let me guess, they're all meeting about this soon?" Miranda asks her friend.
Sure enough, as soon as she looks up she sees King Peter waving everyone inside. Time for their meeting, and maybe when they're done she'll know what exactly she's supposed to do.
Miranda starts down a tunnel with Suncloud, but a gentle hand stops her from meandering toward the heart of the How.
To her surprise, it's Prince Caspian.
"Come. You'll want to know what's going on."
Miranda's so shocked that she can't come up with a reply for a few minutes. Because he's caught her so completely off-guard, the prince steers her along with him relatively easily. It's only when they reach a tunnel leading to a small interior room that her sense returns.
"Hang on, I'm not in charge of anything," she finally says, trying to tug her hand from his firm yet gentle grip.
His answer is a confused look. And then he seems to understand.
"Think of it as a favor, if you must."
"Favor for what?" she asks as she forces herself to stop trying to get free of the prince's warm hand.
"For coming to me, after the raid. I did not appreciate it at the time, but now…" he suddenly stops and turns to face her. "Thank you."
Sincere brown eyes catch hers and hold them, and Miranda isn't sure whether to feel annoyed or vaguely excited that she can't seem to look away.
"Well, I did say a little while back that if you ever need a pair of listening ears, mine are always open. It seemed silly to let that change with the scenery." Miranda has no idea how she managed two coherent sentences.
Prince Caspian seems to be at a loss for words as he looks down at her, his face changing between emotions so fast that Miranda can't trace the progression. His mouth opens, then closes, like he was going to say something but forgot what it was. In the end, he just squeezes her hand and she sees his gratitude in his eyes.
It makes her feel bashful; she's just doing what any good friend would do.
Does this mean they really are friends outside of their sometimes-talks at night?
She hopes so.
As it turns out, King Peter's grand idea to get them out of this battle alive is sending his two sisters, Queens Susan and Lucy, into the forest to find Aslan.
"Kegs and kettledrums, that's your next big plan?" is how Trumpkin reacts to it.
Instantly, Miranda decides she rather likes him, even if they've technically never met. A tiny part of her wants to chime in favoring his take on the proposal, but she remembers she's in a corner like always and that she doesn't like drawing attention. Meanwhile, King Peter is saying something about it being their only chance.
"And she won't be alone," Queen Susan adds, automatically leaning closer to her younger sister. To Miranda's surprise, Lucy looks rather at peace with this whole arrangement.
Trumpkin, however, is not. He goes up to his DLF and says, "H-haven't enough of us died already?"
"Nikabrik was my friend too," Trufflehunter replies. "But he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn't. And neither have I."
A chorus of "For Aslan" comes from Reepicheep and Bulgy Bear. Miranda smiles at the bear's familiar voice. She hasn't seen much of him since arriving at the How.
Trumpkin still doesn't look happy, but seeing the concern mixed with resolve on High King Peter's face seems to resign him.
"Then I'm going with you," he says.
Lucy puts her hand on his shoulder, tells him they need him here. But this seems to give Prince Caspian an idea; he sits up a little straighter and interjects.
"But we may not need Miranda."
All heads turn to look at the prince then, Miranda herself most vehemently. What, exactly, is he suggesting? At least he brought her here so she can knock some sense into him if the situation requires. She's seriously pondering it already.
King Peter, however, motions for Prince Caspian to continue. And what does the prince do? Well, if Miranda trusts her hearing, he's suggesting she go with Susan and Lucy to find Aslan. His argument? Extra protection for Lucy couldn't hurt, Miranda was new to battle anyway and was best kept away from it, and if or when they found Aslan, he could help Miranda with why she's here in the first place. It makes quite a bit of sense, and everyone in the room jumps on board with the idea.
Well, except the person he's suggesting to do the going. She just stares at him like he's grown four extra heads he doesn't need and that she should forthwith chop off.
"Well Miranda? What do you think?"
Miranda looks up at Queen Susan with a perfectly blank face. What does she think? She thinks, frankly, that Prince Caspian here has hit his head and needs medical attention, because she would in no way contribute to anyone's safety. But on the other hand, she can understand his logic just a little, little bit. It almost seems as if he's trying to do her another favor. She's not quite sure if she likes the idea, however.
But when the alternative is facing a battle she knows she won't last two seconds in, well, there's really only one answer.
"Works for me. Just don't let me slow you down," she says, lifting her mouth into a smile that probably looks just as forced as it feels.
"Have you ridden a horse before?" Lucy asks.
"Not since I was a kid at the pony rides, unless carousels count," she answers with shrug, fully expecting them to change their minds about having her tag along.
To her surprise, however, Queen Susan has a very different idea.
"No matter. We'll help you before we leave."
Miranda blinks a few times, trying to grasp exactly why these people are being so kind to her, but at length quickly nods her assent. What else could she do, anyway? She'd rather not die before she absolutely has to.
"We just have to hold off them off until you three get back." King Peter deftly returns the conversation to the most pressing matter at hand.
"If I may."
Miranda glances sideways at Prince Caspian. It seems he's full of ideas today.
'Good ideas,' she admits grudgingly to herself. And then she turns her attention back to the prince who probably just saved her behind and is now standing up towards the middle of the room, having stepped away from his former seat.
"Miraz may be a tyrant, and a murderer. But as king, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people." Prince Caspian has a crafty gleam in his eye that Miranda instantly decides she likes on him. "There is one, in particular, that may buy us some time," he finishes.
Miranda doesn't know what to think when he says he wants to challenge his uncle to a duel – to the death.
After that taxing meeting, Queen Susan and Lucy take Miranda to figure out how to ride a horse. As it turns out, she has to practice on Prince Caspian's horse for now.
Miranda tries very hard not to look at the sheer size of its hooves.
"Queen Susan?" she tries, staring at the horse's back in confusion.
"Call me Susan. I think we know each other well enough for that."
Miranda grins and continues with her question of how to get on the horse in the first place.
Susan shows her how to vault up onto the beast, but it's a bit antsy, shifting here and there. Lucy ends up being the encouraging party. In fact, without the young queen's input, Miranda is quite sure she'd have quit this process before she even started.
But after an hour or two or maybe three, she isn't sure, Miranda is finally able to sit on Destrier, as she learns the horse is called, balance, and get through the basic gaits. Well, they didn't try galloping because Miranda was sure that she'd fall, maybe split her skull on the tunnel walls, and then the crash course in horseback riding would be a moot point anyway.
But all in all, with Susan and Lucy's help, Miranda is no longer feeling overwhelmed and cynical about this horseback riding. She might even come to enjoy it, when she's not riding for her life through a forest.
Soon after she feels ready, they get the news that Edmund's returned with Miraz's acceptance. Miranda remembers that Prince Caspian wanted to be the one to fight him and the look on his face when Peter said he would fight Miraz instead. Disappointment, indigence, and a little bit of anger all danced across his face, though he tried to hide it.
Miranda instantly wondered why he wanted his uncle to die. It was something she didn't know; it was more than just that Miraz tried to kill Caspian and forced him to flee his own castle. Maybe she should ask him, but she's hesitant. And there's essentially no time to do so anyway.
But now they're all getting ready for their ride into the forest to find Aslan, so there's no more time to muse and ponder. Miranda goes to the armory for a bow, quiver, and a dagger at Susan's insistence. For her part, Miranda fervently hopes she won't have to use the dagger, as she'd be prematurely dead almost certainly.
Far too soon, they're mounting up – Susan and Lucy on Destrier, and Miranda on the horse Caspian's Professor rode out of the raid, as she learns when Caspian brings it to her. Well, all he says is that his Professor wants her to use it, but she can guess the rest. His Professor wasn't here before the raid.
She tries to vault up like Susan taught her and grins at her success. The Professor's horse, Alvar, is a bit shorter than Destrier, to her benefit. Caspian asks if she's ready and checks that she does actually have a dagger strapped onto her hip after she's mounted and situated in the saddle. Miranda tries not to brush off his concern, but it's hard knowing she doesn't have very long left here anyway.
"Be safe," he tells her.
She wants to joke that being safe, or at least safer, is why he suggested she go on this little trip anyway, but instead she just nods.
"You too," she says, because he needs the good luck wish a bit more than she does.
A small smile quirks his lips upward, and for a second it looks like he might take her hand. But he clears his throat and walks over to check on Susan and Lucy, leaving Miranda to wonder why she feels just the tiniest bit disappointed.
Especially when she firmly believes she should feel the opposite.
"Destrier has always served me well. You are in good hands," she hears Caspian tell the two queens.
Lucy jokes back something about hooves, but Miranda is guiltily zoning out, wondering suddenly what happens if she does die here instead of at home. Would that mean she would never get to say goodbye to her parents, to Leila?
That seems to be what makes the most sense, so Miranda resolves to survive long enough to sleep tonight, if at all possible. She has to say goodbye. Speaking of, is that Suncloud who's rushing into the room?
"Mira!" Yes, it is. He's the only one who calls her Mira.
"Just in time," she greets him with a smile. "I was about to head off without saying hello."
"I think you mean goodbye," he answers with a grin that somehow manages to be both teasing and somber at the same time. "I came to wish you luck."
Miranda smiles and tries hard not to think about goodbyes. "Best get on with it. I don't want to make everyone late."
"Good luck then," her centaur friend says, reaching over to clasp her hand. His palm is calloused and rough against hers, but she returns the squeeze happily.
"Stay alive so I can annoy you after I get back," she tells him.
"And the same to you."
And that's all they have time for; Susan is looking over and asks Miranda if she's ready.
Miranda squeezes Suncloud's hand one more time before regretfully letting go and nudging Alvar into a…what was it Susan called the gait? A canter?
Before she's even completely sure she's ready for this, Miranda finds that Destrier and Alvar are already outside and at a full gallop.
They leave out the side and are within the woods in seconds.
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