They are Always Fulfilled.
Dr. Johnson was pacing the hallway when Peter arrived. When the doctor saw him, his features relaxed and he gave a loud sigh.
"Thank goodness you're here Peter."
"What is it doctor?" Peter asked.
"Miranda's heart rate just dropped a fast amount. I'm... I'm not sure what's going on. She was fine half an hour ago, but in the last ten minutes..."
He cut himself off, rubbing his head in frustration.
"You should go in now."
Peter didn't hesitate, but immediately went through the door.
Miranda lay flat on the hospital bed. She was awake, and there was a small smile on her face.
"Hey Pete."
"Hey Miranda. What's going on?"
"I think that it's a bit obvious Peter," she replied, then gave a sharp cry. The monitor stopped beeping for a moment, then started again.
"I'll get Dr. Johnson," Peter said immediately, rushing to the door.
"Peter, it'll do no good."
"What do you mean it'll do no good."
"Because there is nothing more he can do for me."
Peter's hand was on the doorknob when he heard that. He knew that tone of voice. He turned back to her. She was still smiling, but it was a sad sort of smile.
"How long have you known?" Peter demanded.
Miranda hesitated.
"Miranda, how long have you known?"
"Since we last came back from Narnia."
"WHAT???"
Peter quickly muffled his shout.
"You've known for almost a year now?" Peter asked disbelievingly.
Miranda nodded.
"Why didn't you tell anybody? Your mom, Dr. Johnson, us..."
"My mom and Dr. Johnson would just reassure me that all hope was not lost, that they would find a cure, that there was some hope that I could get well again. But there was never any real hope."
"The first time we saw you again," Peter remembered, "Edmund told me that when he looked into your eyes, he saw no hope."
"They named him "the Just" for a good reason," Miranda laughed.
"It's not funny!" Peter said, quite loudly.
"What's not funny?"
"This whole thing. You've known this whole time and you didn't tell us?"
"Would you have really wanted to know?"
"Yes, I would have wanted to know."
"You see," Miranda explained, "This is the very reason I didn't tell you. You would get all bent out of shape and start yellling at everything and everyone. I didn't want anyone to know so that I could have a chance to live my life again."
Peter had opened his mouth to say something, but swiftly shut it.
"I wanted to live without worry or care Peter. I wanted my mom to keep her hope. I wanted you all to treat me like you did in Narnia, which you have. This has been one of the best years of my life, all because I told no one."
Peter still felt slightly hurt that she hadn't told him, but he saw her point and why she had done it. He nodded his head and took a chair by her bedside. She reached down her hand and he took it. They stayed that way for many moments.
Finally, Miranda said;
"Do you remember the first time we met?"
"I wouldn't say that it was exactly meeting, but I do remember the first words you said to me," Peter replied. "It was your oath, taking on the duties as the Warrior of Narnia."
Miranda laughed.
"I thought that I was really getting in over my head when that happened," Miranda said.
"Well so did I when I became king of Narnia," he replied.
"Do you see that box over there?" she asked, pointing to a chair beside the door. Peter nodded.
"That box is for all of you. Everything is labeled so that you won't get confused over who gets what."
"Let's not talk about that right now," Peter said.
"I have to talk about it now Peter," Miranda said urgently, giving a little cry. Her heart had skipped again. "It's now or never."
Peter didn't reply.
"I don't think that I'll make it to see Lucy and Edmund again. Tell Edmund that he was the wisest king and the greatest friend I could have asked for, and tell Lucy that it was her valiance that made me courageous."
Peter nodded.
"And tell your parents that they meant so much to me and my mother. Tell them that they were there for us when no one else could, and that we were forever grateful for that."
"I will."
"And Peter," Miranda said, gripping his hand tighter, "Promise me that you'll never give up on Susan."
"What?" Peter said confused.
"Please Peter, promise me. She is straying. She is leaving her memories of Narnia. She must not go down that path. Please Peter, never give up on her."
"I won't Miranda. I promise."
Miranda then lay back and closed her eyes, wincing as the monitor went silent for a moment.
"I've been having a good deal of nightmares the past year," Miranda said after her silence.
"What are they?"
"It's always me against the White Witch. Every time I see her, she taunts me, telling me that I am useless here and cannot protect my rulers from her grasp." She paused for a second, then continued. "Every time I dreamt it, she got closer and closer to killing me. About an hour ago, I dreamed again. She was attacking Susan. That's when I had the doctor call you. I was going to tell you about that, when this started," she finished, pointing at herself.
"Why do you think it has happened now?" Peter asked, pointing to her monitor.
"Well, for one, Aslan told me that I only had one more year. He told me shortly before we left Narnia. He said it was a gift for me."
"Meaning," Peter realized," That you shouldn't have even lived this long."
"That's right Pete."
"But, you think it might be more?"
Miranda nodded.
"Remember what Edmund and Lucy told us about Caspian and Ramandu's daughter?"
"Yes."
"I'll bet that when my heart rate dropped, at that exact time in Narnia, the two of them had gotten married."
"The Prophecy!" Peter exclaimed.
"Yes. That when all in Narnia is well..."
"The Warrior shall become dead and still," Peter finished.
"For one short moment, all was well within Narnia, and now, well..."
"You don't have to finish," Peter said. "I know."
Miranda suddenly gave a loud grunt.
"Oh! Ugh! That one really hurt. Oh boy! That one really hurt."
Peter winced at his friend's pain. Miranda then spoke.
"Do you remember the battle that we both nearly died."
"How can I forget?" Peter grimaced. "It was at the Ettinsmoor plains. We had taken a group of Narnians to go and fight off the giants that were plaguing the northern parts of Narnia."
"And both of us almost didn't make it out," Miranda added.
"I remember those wounds too," Peter said. "They had stabbed me in the back in between my shoulders, and you in the stomach. We both laid on those plains, dying, grasping each other's hands. And you told me that day, that if you could have chosen any death, than that would have been it."
"To this day Peter, that is the death I would have chosen. I was with my High King and truest friend, dying in battle for Narnian liberty. What death could have been better than that?"
"I'm not sure Miranda," Peter laughed. "I never had a preference."
The two laughed. Peter suddenly noticed that although the monitor was beating steadily, it was beating slowly.
"Miranda..."
"I know Peter. Believe me, I know," she said. "I can't feel my legs right now."
Peter wasn't quite sure why he did this, but he never did regret it.
He reached his arms under Miranda's back and lifted her up so that she could easily rest her head upon her shoulder.
"I may not be able to give you the death you want. I can't die with you, but I can let you die beside me," he whispered.
"Thank you Peter," she whispered back.
Peter listened to the monitor closely. It was slowing down.
"Peter," Miranda said, her voice weaker.
"Yes."
"Thank you so much for the friendship you shared with me. We've been through so much. Battles, wars, peace, arguments. Yet you remained my constant friend, and I thank you for that."
"You're welcome," Peter managed to choke out through his constricted throat.
Beep. ----- Beep.----- Beep.
"It's time Peter," she whispered. "Good-bye, Peter the Magnificent, my high king, my best and truest friend."
She took a deep breath.
"Good-bye Miranda the Courageous, First Warrior of Narnia, my protector and guardian, my dearest friend."
Her breath came out slow, and the monitor was silent.
Miranda the Courageous, First Warrior of Narnia, was gone.
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Caspian awoke with a start. His eyes searched around his room quickly, trying to find out what it was that had woken him up. But all was still and silent. His wife, Star, was fast asleep. But something had woke him up.
He suddenly heard a long, low moan come out from the woods. It sounded like a dryad.
Without hesitation, Caspian jumped out of bed, threw some clothes on, placed Rhindon by his side, and headed for the stables.
Destrier seemed tense as well. Caspian swiftly saddled and bridled his horse and headed out of the castle. He might have made it, except for one small snag in his plan.
As he crept out of the gates, he heard a deep voice say;
"Where are you going King Caspian?"
Caspian couldn't help his cringe.
"Just out for a moment Glenstorm," he replied.
"Of all the people out on a night like this, you should not be one of them."
"What do you mean 'on a night like this'?" Caspian asked.
"Narnia is tense and wild this night. The skies do not tell pleasant stories."
"Which is why I'm going to find out what it is," Caspian stated. "Now, will you be joining me or not."
"Joining you, of course," Glenstorm replied.
The two turned to the one dryad's crying, and they raced toward it. They were less than a mile from Aslan's Howe when they found a small, cherry tree dryad, crying loudly and mournfully.
"Dear dryad," Caspian called out, "Why do you mourn?"
"Oh dear King," the dryad cried, "I mourn for a loss. A loss of Narnia's. The prophecy is fulfilled. It is fulfilled."
"What prophecy?" Glenstorm shouted over the dryad's wailing.
"When all in Narnia is well, the heart of the Warrior will be sore, it shall become dead and still," the dryad replied.
Caspian froze.
"No."
With no thought at all, he turned Destrier towards Aslan's Howe and raced as fast as he could to its doors. Glenstorm followed close behind.
When they reached the inside tunnel, Caspian leaped off his horse and took a torch. He then began to look frantically for the one tunnel.
"Come on. Come on," he urged.
"Your majesty," Glenstorm began before Caspian raised his hand. He knew where he was now.
"This way."
He ran down three tunnels, then found the narrow strip he was looking for. He turned in, brought the torch close to the wall, and let out an anguished shout.
Every drawing of the first Warrior had been fixed as Caspian had promised Miranda. But now, every single picture was black as coal. Caspian tried rubbing on it, but it was like dried paint. It wasn't coming off.
"Sire," Glenstorm asked, "What is this? I normally know such things as these, but the skies are unclear tonight. What has happened?"
Caspian turned to the second warrior, not hiding the tears sneaking their way down his face.
"Miranda the Courageous is dead Glenstorm. Narnia's first warrior is dead."
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Narnia mourned for the First Warrior for many months. And for many years, her stories were remembered in Narnia. But after King Caspian the Seafarer passed away, Narnia forgot once more. The first Warrior became first legend, then a myth, then it was believed that it was Glenstorm that was the first warrior. Seven warriors in all served Narnia; only six were remembered.
Narnia forgot the First Warrior, but the Warrior's Kings and Queens did not.