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Title: By Dawn's Early Light
Author:
autumnia
Recipient:
linneasr
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The Horse and His Boy
Summary: On a distant shore, they find that morning brings more than the start of a new day.
Note: Many thanks to my beta for her insightful comments and encouragement.
For the mind disturbed, the still beauty of dawn is nature's finest balm.
— Edwin Way Teale
Longing is like the rosy dawn. After the dawn out comes the sun. Longing is followed by the vision of God.
— Ramakrishna
We are what we believe we are.
— C. S. Lewis
***
It was the loud rapping of the door that jarred her awake. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in her bed, one hand grasping at the blankets while the other reached for the short knife hidden beneath her pillow.
She took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly to soothe the quick beats of her heart. As she calmed, she loosed her fingers and wrinkled silk fell from her hand, fluttering downward and pooling gracefully into her lap. In her head, she clawed at the edges of her dream, desperately reaching out for fragments of the visions she had been immersed in before the unwelcome noise took her away from them.
Just as she began to gather those images to herself again, there was another knock at the door. Distracted by the interruption, she blinked and with it went the last tendrils of her reverie, scattered like leaves in the wind and disappearing into the abyss of long-forgotten memories.
She sighed and resigned herself to the loss. She thought for a minute, holding fast to the glimpses she had already fought against her consciousness for. There was a cliff, a green land and—
Thud. Thud. The sounds were even louder than before.
"Aravis?" came a muffled voice on the other side of the door.
With a groan, the dark-haired girl threw back the blankets and swung herself off the bed. Her feet touched the cool stone of the floor and without looking for her slippers, she proceeded towards the door. She crossed the room slowly; as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could dimly make out the large shapes of furniture scattered around the room. She stopped a few inches away from the door, standing still and listening quietly and carefully.
"Aravis?"
So he was still there. Now that she was closer, she could hear a little hesitation in his voice. That was good; it meant he was still wary of her moods. Wearily, she put one hand on the handle, pausing for a moment before letting him in. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, forcing the annoyance away and allowing a more neutral expression to settle on her face.
"Ara—"
He froze as she yanked the door open, catching him by surprise. He had one fist raised high in the air, as if preparing to knock again if there was no answer. It took several seconds before he reacted to the change. His eyes grew wide and he jumped back, giving a little yelp that echoed loudly in the corridor.
"Hush!" she ordered furiously in a whisper. Taking advantage of his stupor, she reached for his arm and pulled him inside. Before she closed the door, she ducked her head out to see if anyone else had noticed the commotion. It was very dim in the corridor, but not dark. Though some of the torches were still lit, the fires burned weakly in the sconces, offering little light to those that traveled through the hallway. Through one of the windows that lined the opposite wall, she could see it was still dark out, but the blue-black of the skies was beginning to pale into a grey color.
Hearing and seeing nothing in the hall, Aravis retreated into the room and shut the door. She turned around and leaning against the door, stared at the boy that disturbed her sleep.
"Well?" she demanded, tapping one bare foot impatiently on the floor while waiting for his response.
The boy did not answer.
Growing impatient, she frowned and folded her arms across her chest. "Cor?"
Still he said nothing.
"Shasta!" she snapped.
He blinked and finally looked at her. "Oh. Aravis."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. Really, she should have just called him by his old name to begin with; he had lived as Shasta nearly all his life and was quicker to respond to it than his true name. Not that she never used it anymore; it was always Cor in public and amongst his family but when it was just the two of them, she still used the name she came to know him by.
"What do you want, Shasta?" she asked, and followed up quickly with another question. "And do you know what time it is?"
"Yes, well," he began, shuffling his feet awkwardly while avoiding her gaze. His actions reminded her of some of the children she saw in Tashbaan – the young and scruffy servant boys that lived in the houses of the great Tarkaans along the upper rings of the capital. She made a mental note to herself to break him out of the habit; such behavior was not befitting of the Crown Prince of Archenland.
"I know it's early, Aravis, and I am sorry to have woken you."
His apology sounded so sincere that she softened at his words and her anger faded a little. After everything they had been through together, she knew he would not lie to her even over so trivial a matter.
"Very well," she relented, lowering her arms to her side and relaxing her stance. Her left hand brushed cool metal and she idly moved her fingers up and down the door handle. "What do you want, Shasta?" she asked, repeating her question from before. "What's so important that you're sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night?"
"Morning," he corrected. He turned his head and glanced at the open window in her room. "Dawn is coming."
"Morning, then." She would not allow him to change the subject. "It's still too early to be wandering around." She paused as a different thought came to her. "Are you having trouble sleeping, not being at home and all?"
Shasta shook his head. "No, no. It's nothing like that. And I've slept in far worse places than here. It's… well…" he hesitated for a moment and avoided her gaze again. "I was wondering if you wanted to join me on an adventure."
"Adventure?" she echoed, surprised. That was the last thing she expected him to say. "Shasta, don't you think we've had enough of adventures for a while?"
"This one's not so bad," he assured her. "On my honor as… as a Prince of Archenland." He stumbled over his title, still unused to his new station and life.
For a few seconds she said nothing, studying him quietly instead. The light in the room had been growing steadily brighter during their talk. Shasta was right: the morning was fast approaching.
Aravis sighed, realizing she would not be able to go back to sleep again. She had always been a light sleeper, waking as soon as the sun rose over her old home in Calavar. And though she was loathed to admit it, she was curious about what her friend was up to.
"All right," she finally agreed. "What kind of adventure is it?"
"Get dressed," he said. "We don't have much time." He glanced at the window again. "I'll tell you on the way."
It was then that she noticed he was not wearing his sleeping gown. Instead, the fair-haired boy wore a short tunic belted at the waist and hose. On his feet were the ankle boots worn by the men of Archenland. His appearance was far from the first impression she had of him nearly two months before.
She gave one him last look before stepping away from the door. It was light enough for her now to see more than blurry outlines of the furniture in the room. She opened a wardrobe door and as she began pulling clothes out, she said, "Turn around, Cor."
The Prince made a noise of surprise; for Aravis to call him by his real name meant she was either angry with him—which was quite possible since he did wake her too early—or she was trying to make a point. He settled on the latter and dutifully did as she commanded.
She turned her head and after confirming his back was to her, pulled her shift off and threw it on the bed. The air was cool on her skin and she shivered a little as she reached for the dress she withdrew from the wardrobe. The light fabric brushed her skin as the skirt fell toward the ground and she slid her arms into the narrow sleeves. She moved her hands to her back and after grasping futilely at the laces, sighed.
"Shasta, can you help me with the laces?" She was slowly growing accustomed to these Northern-style dresses but she disliked how the gowns needed to be fastened at the back; her fingers could not thread the ties on either side through the lace holes that rose from waist to neck and she could not call for a lady's maid to help her. Aravis missed the simplicity of Calormene robes: there were no cumbersome laces to bother with—only sashes that were knotted at the front or on the side, or fastened securely with a jeweled brooch.
She heard his footsteps as he approached. With one hand, she held the two sides of her dress up against her back while the other swept her long hair off her shoulders, pinning the strands into a loose bun with her fingers at the nape of her neck.
As his hands gently pried her own away from back of the dress, she felt the rough and calloused pads of his fingers graze against her skin.
"Sorry," he murmured as he set to the task.
She said nothing but stood still and silent. Slowly, she could feel the seams coming together and sealing her into the gown. His fingers steadily continued their work and she felt his breath on her bare skin.
"There," he said as soon as he finished. He then stepped back, allowing her to move freely.
"Thank you." Aravis quickly rubbed her fingers against the seams and laces, checking his work. "That was fast. Don't tell Farra but I think you're better at this sort of thing than she is."
He laughed. "You have Arsheesh to thank for that. It's much easier to lace up a dress than to repair a fisherman's net."
She glanced up sharply at him. Ever since he learned who he was, Shasta had rarely spoken of the man that raised him all these years. She could not see his face clearly—it was hidden by the shadows and last vestiges of the night—but she could hear the strain in his voice.
"Shasta—"
He interrupted her. "Are you ready, Aravis? We're running out of time."
It was clear he did not want to discuss the past so she set the issue aside for now. "One more minute; I just need to put my shoes on and then we can go." Judging from her friend's footwear, she assumed they were not going for a ride and quickly slid her feet into a pair of slippers instead of boots that required lacing.
He held the door open for her and she stepped into the corridor. The torches were nearly extinguished but she could make out all the windows that lined the wall as well as the doorways at either end.
"Which way?"
Shasta tilted his head to the left. "Through that door." There was a pause. "I think."
"You think? Do you even know where you want to go?"
"Well, yes," he said firmly, "I know where I want to go, at least where we need to be. It's just…" his voice trailed off.
"Lost already, your Highness?"
She and Shasta both jumped at the voice. Though it spoke in a high pitch, the sound was very small and tinny, as if it came from some distance away.
"Wh-who are you?" Aravis asked, being the first to recover from the surprise. Her eyes darted around the corridor and at the windows but she saw no one. "Show yourself."
"I am not hiding, Tarkheena," said the voice. "You need only to look up."
As one, she and Shasta tilted their heads up. Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness above them but she could see nothing. There was the sound of rustling and then a pair of eyes emerged from the shadows, glowing bright and staring back at them.
Shasta started, giving a little cry and taking a step back.
"Your pardon, Highness," said the Bat as it launched itself into the air, wings flapping loudly as it circled the two Humans before hanging upside down from a nearby window. "I did not mean to startle you."
"Who are you?" Aravis asked again, eyeing the creature warily. "Were you spying on us?"
The Bat gave itself a little shake; the movement reminded Aravis of heavy fruit quivering on a windblown branch. "Silly me, where are my manners?" the Bat reproached itself. "Prince Cor, Lady Aravis, we are well met. My name is Griff and I serve in the night watch of Cair Paravel."
Aravis opened her mouth, forming a silent 'O' with her lips. She faced the window and curtseyed in the Calormene fashion: she bent forward, sliding one foot behind her while making an elaborate gesture with her hand.
Griff screeched approvingly, his voice shrill and echoing briefly in the corridor.
"Ha-have you been watching us all this time?" Shasta asked as he found his voice again.
"Of course, your Highness. Vesp and I saw you leave your room and watched as you went to visit the Lady Aravis."
"Vesp?"
An answering screech erupted from the other end of the hallway, the sound piercing the air briefly before fading away.
"Oh," said Shasta. And then, "Are you going to tell Father? Or their Majesties?"
"Your affairs are your own, Prince. So long as you're not breaking any rules, we will speak nothing of your actions."
"I see." The fair-haired boy looked thoughtfully at the Bat. "Thank you."
Griff bowed, dipping his head and curling his body upward as he did so.
"Cor," Aravis drew her friend's gaze back onto her. "I thought you said we were running out of time."
"Oh. Oh! Yes!" Shasta quickly turned to Griff. "Do you know the quickest way to leave the castle?"
"Why, that's easy enough," the Bat replied. He stretched his wings, blocking the view from the window. After a moment, he took off, soaring into a dark niche above them. "Just go through the window, of course."
Aravis watched as Shasta stuck his head through the window and looked down. He quickly jerked back and she saw his face was paler than before. "We can't—that is—"
She understood and quickly interceded on his behalf. "What Cor means is that we are very high up in this part of the castle. Humans cannot jump out of the window at such a distance without injuring ourselves. We need to know quickest and safest route for Humans to take."
"Well, why didn't you say so before?" screeched Griff. The sound made Aravis want to cover her ears though she did not dare to do so for fear of seeming rude. She thought he might have been chuckling but it was hard for her to tell; she had never heard a Bat laugh before.
"It is unwise to ask a Bat question unless you wish to receive a flighty answer in return."
Aravis turned around and managed not to jump as a large Wolf approached. To his credit, Shasta managed to mute his reaction as well; the only outward sign she could see was that his eyes grew very wide.
The sound of flapping echoed loudly from above and then two small blurs dropped in front of her. Suddenly, she felt something clutching tightly at her shoulder. Aravis turned her head slightly and found herself eye-to-eye with a dark, furry Creature; from its smaller size, she could see that it was not Griff.
"Your pardon, Lady Aravis," the Bat squeaked into her ear, "but I do hope you and Prince Cor won't mind. The light is growing too bright for us at the windows to see clearly. We'll be off as soon as we can."
She glanced past the Bat and saw Shasta was in a similar situation, with Griff on his left shoulder while Vesp was on her right.
"It's fine," she whispered quietly to the small Anima beside her face.
Vesp bobbed his head at her before turning his attention to the Wolf.
"Captain," the Bat squeaked. He raised one wing and spread it outward before folding it in again. From the corner of her eye, Aravis saw Griff mimicking the action on Shasta's shoulder.
The Wolf raised its head, pointing its dark muzzle at the two creatures on their shoulders. "Night watch," the Wolf addressed the Bats in a deep—and to Aravis' surprise—feminine voice, "as you were." She swung her head toward the window, golden eyes seeming to glow amidst the dark fur of her face. "Though, your shift is ending soon, is it not?"
"Yes, Ma'am," replied Griff; though his voice still sounded high, it had taken on a more serious tone than when he spoke earlier. "As soon as the sun rises."
"For now, you may return to your duties. I wish to speak to our guests."
Aravis felt the hold loosen on her shoulder. After a few seconds, the weight disappeared completely as Vesp launched into the air, a dark blur in her vision as the Bat flew past her and up into the air. He melted into the darkness that still clung to the ceiling even as dawn was creeping in. She looked askance at Shasta and saw he was free of his light burden as well.
To the Humans, the she-Wolf lowered her head briefly to each of them. "Your Highness, Lady Aravis, good morn."
Aravis curtseyed again, substituting the hand gestures she had presented to Griff with those more suited to one of higher rank. She wasn't sure if the Wolf would know the intricacies of Calormene greetings but it was best to be proper about it—her parents hired the best tutors in Calavar and she knew how to execute the dozens of greetings required in society.
To her surprise, Shasta also greeted the Wolf formally. The Prince bowed sharply, bending at the waist. "Good morning…" his voice trailed off, unsure how to address the Wolf.
"Nitka," the Wolf answered, "of the Royal Guard."
"Good morning, Lady Nitka," Shasta repeated his greeting.
As she watched her friend rising from his bow, Aravis noted how different his movements were than when he first came to her as royalty. He was less awkward than he had once been; he moved more steadily and his actions were much more graceful than that day when he bowed to her at the Hermit's dwelling. To King Lune's credit, Lord Doren was an excellent tutor to the two Princes.
It dawned on her just how different the greetings were between her old home and her new one. Perhaps it was time for her to learn the customs and etiquette of the Northern kingdoms as well; there was no excuse not to and for all intents and purposes, she was a Northerner now. She would grow up as a woman of Archenland and no matter how she longed to see her younger brother again or her friends, she could not see herself returning to Calormen and making a home there. She resolved to speak to Queen Susan or Queen Lucy about the matter—if there were anyone who could help locate a suitable teacher for her, it would be the two Narnian Queens.
"How may we help you, Lady Nitka?" she asked politely, remembering the Wolf's earlier words to the Bats.
The she-Wolf swung her head towards Aravis. As golden eyes landed on her, she was reminded of the tales her Nurse had told of Narnia: it was said that some of the demons that inhabited the land took the form of animals but were much bigger than their normal counterparts. Nitka certainly fit the description: she was tall, larger than the biggest canine she had ever seen. As the Guard drew closer, she noted that the top of the Wolf's head reached her waist.
"I was looking for Prince Cor and when he wasn't in his room, assumed he came to see you instead, Lady Aravis."
Aravis looked at Shasta, who colored a bit at Nitka's words.
"I—that is—" he stammered. "You didn't wake Corin up, did you?"
The Wolf grinned, revealing several sharp teeth that glistened in the grey light. "Fear not, your Highness. Your royal brother is still asleep in his room." She growled in amusement. "We are used to Prince Corin's habits by now."
Shasta let out a sigh, relieved. With a more somber and anxious expression, he asked, "Why were you looking for me? Have I done something wrong?"
Nitka shook her head. "I was asked to escort you should you still wish to leave the castle this morn, your Highness."
The Prince looked at her with surprise. "How did you—that is—"
"Did you tell anyone about your plans, Cor?" Aravis asked. When he shook his head, she turned to the she-Wolf at their feet. "How did you know?"
"We have our ways," Nitka replied mysteriously. To Shasta, she said, "Well, your Highnesss? Tarkheena? Shall we go?"
"Yes! That is, if you don't mind," he amended hastily.
"Not at all; it is why I am here." The Wolf turned around and Aravis could see a faint, pale line running along part of her back. "If you will follow me, please."
Aravis looked at Shasta, and he nodded at her with a small smile. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for her to go first.
She cautiously followed the she-Wolf, keeping several paces behind her. As they neared the end of the hall, she was forced to stop abruptly when she noticed Nitka did not leave the corridor. Instead, the Wolf looked up into the darkened corners in the ceiling.
"I give you leave to end your shift early," Nitka said.
Aravis peered into the darkness and for a moment, could not see the two Bats that were up there. She heard movement and then saw a shift in the color of the shadows.
"Make your reports to Acerod and tell him I shall see to Prince Cor and Lady Aravis for now."
"Yes, Captain," replied one of the Bats; Aravis thought it was Griff that spoke but she wasn't certain. Two small heads poked out from the shadows and flew off, heading in the opposite direction.
The she-Wolf resumed her walk once more, leading them through the doorway and into another corridor. It appeared no different from the one they had just left, with several doors lining the hall on one side and windows facing them on another. Nitka padded down the hall quietly, her paws barely making any noise on the floor.
"I say," Shasta spoke in a whisper, "are you sure this is the right way? I thought we needed to go through the other door to get—"
"There are many ways to leave the castle, your Highness," Nitka replied. "And I think you were looking for the quickest way out?"
"Yes, Lady Nitka," he hesitated for a moment, "but are we not heading further into the castle? I thought we should be finding a way down instead."
The Wolf's tail swung sharply from side to side for a moment; Nitka growled but the sound did not seem to be one of anger. "We will be descending, Highness, in a moment." She stopped in front a large tapestry and with her muzzle, pushed one corner aside. Aravis stepped forward to help, sweeping the edge of the thick fabric back to reveal a door.
"Thank you, Lady Aravis."
The two Humans watched as the Wolf sniffed at the edge of the doorway before nudging at one spot with her nose. They heard a click and then creaking as the door swung inward, revealing a dark passageway that traveled straight ahead into a patch of darkness.
"This way, if you please." Nitka stepped across the threshold and began walking further in.
Aravis glanced at Shasta before following the she-Wolf into the tunnel. She had taken several paces forward before she realized she could not hear her friend behind her. Before she could turn around to look for him, the sound of hurried footsteps made her pause. And then, the door swung shut, sealing them in.
She had expected to be shrouded in black once the door closed but to her surprise, her feet was bathed in a golden pool of light and her shadow stretched long and dark before her. It was then she looked behind her shoulder.
"I went to grab these before I came inside," Shasta explained, handing her one of the dimly lit torches he held. "They don't offer too much light, but it's better than nothing."
She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a deeper voice.
"Hurry, your Highness, Tarkheena," Nitka called out from ahead, "you will not make it in time if we tarry here."
Aravis walked quickly with the Prince shortly behind her. By the light of the torch, she saw the corridor ending ahead. She slowed her steps as they neared the end and looking past the Wolf, she saw…
"Here is where we descend, Prince Cor."
They stood at the top of a spiral staircase. The steps did not appear to be too steep but the circular passageway was narrow; there was room enough for only one person to descend at a time. Aravis waited for Nitka to disappear behind the curve of the stairwell before she followed cautiously after her.
The three of them descended in silence for several minutes; the only sounds that could be heard were their footsteps echoing in a pattern off the stone around them. Soon, they reached a landing and an unmarked door. Aravis paused in front of it, assuming it was their destination but the she-Wolf shook her head and said, "We must continue further down."
"Are there other passages like this one in the castle?" Shasta asked from the rear.
"There are many," Nitka replied without breaking her stride or turning her head. "The castle staff routinely uses about a dozen of them but their Majesties and the Guard know of more."
Aravis recalled the conversations with the Bats. "Are you Captain of the Royal Guard, Lady Nitka?"
"I am," answered the Wolf. "I served under King Edmund for a time in the army before I joined the Guard."
As they passed another landing, Shasta posed another question. "Won't we get into trouble for being in here? I don't think their Majesties (and Father) will be happy finding out we've been sneaking around in Cair Paravel's secret tunnels."
Nitka chuckled, the sound rumbling in her throat. "All their Majesties will think nothing of it, Highness. After all, it was your royal brother that first discovered this passage."
Shasta stopped short. "Corin?!" he sputtered.
Aravis shook her head and turning slightly, nudged her friend, urging him to walk. Unlike Shasta, she was not surprised to learn this news of his brother. After observing Corin for two months, she noted how very different the twins were despite their similarity in appearance. While Cor was bashful and serious, his younger brother exuded a more carefree and adventurous nature.
"Queen Susan had her hands full with him over the years," Nitka said with amusement. "Prince Corin never fails to make an impression with every visit to the Cair. He caused her Majesty much distress when he hid in this passage during a game of hide-and-seek."
"I can imagine," Cor said seriously, remembering his first impression of the dark-haired Queen in Tashbaan. "Queen Susan must have been quite angry with him."
"Indeed," the Wolf agreed. "But she didn't punish him too harshly; he was a much younger cub than he is now. Her Majesty made him reveal the locations of every secret passage he found in the castle after that."
They had passed several more landings and doorways; Aravis lost count of them during the discussion of Corin and Queen Susan. However, she did think they were nearing the ground floor by now. The lower they descended, the louder the sounds were on the opposite side of the doors.
Presently, they arrived on a landing where the door was slightly ajar. A shaft of light poured through the opening, forming a bright rectangle on the ground. Nitka paused in front of it, sniffing through the crack. Aravis stepped closer and she could hear shrieking among the clacking and clanging of metal on metal.
"Are we near the armory?" Shasta asked, peering over her shoulder. "Or the tilt yard?"
Nitka turned and grinned, revealing her sharp teeth. "Better than that. Can you not smell where we are?"
Aravis stared at her in surprise. She turned back to the door and leaning forward, sniffed the air. The dank and musty smell of the stairs gave way to the cool, sharp breeze that blew through the slit in the doorway. Her eyes grew wide as she caught a whiff of the scent that floated on the breeze. She peered out, spying loaves of freshly baked bread on a large wooden table. In between the sounds of pots and pans and harried conversation, she could hear something sizzling in the background. She breathed in and wrinkled her nose in dislike: it was butter, the Northerners' preferred cooking staple and spread; the taste itself wasn't terrible, but she missed the flavored oils and spices of Calormene cooking.
"That smells good," Shasta said, breathing in the delicious air.
"And you shall have it soon enough, your Highness." There was a pause. "That is, if the others haven't eaten it all."
There was more shrieking in the kitchen, followed by a very large thud against the door. Aravis winced as the door shook on its hinges, reverberating from whatever object struck it. Something furry brushed against her feet and she jumped, startled.
"Aravi—" Shasta began, stopping as the dark-haired girl pushed him backward.
"Oh, I do beg your pardon!" came a voice from below.
The Humans and the Wolf looked down. A large Mouse had slid in through the gap in the door; it stood on its hind legs as it tilted its head back to look up at them. On the ground in front of it was a large chunk of bread, the crust and crumbs of which were jagged, as if it was ripped hastily from the loaf.
"Oh!" the Mouse squeaked again, whiskers twitching anxiously. "Humans! What are you doing in here?" It gazed at Aravis and then at Shasta. "Ah, your Highness. Is it not too early to go sneaking about in the day? What will her Majesty say?"
"He is not Prince Corin," Nitka said dryly.
The Mouse swung his head toward the Wolf. "Captain!" He raised one of its forepaws in salute to her. "Not Prince Corin?" He turned back and after looking at Shasta again, bent down and sniffed at the Prince's clothes and shoes. "Oh. My apologies, Prince Cor. Should have known better, you know. You and your royal brother smell nothing alike." To Aravis, he added, "And good morn to you, Tarkheena."
"Good morning," she replied politely, hiding the smile that formed at the Mouse's remark on her friends. She was much amused by the discussions with the Narnians; such comments would have been considered grave insults in Calormen but they made complete sense in a land inhabited by Talking Creatures.
"And speaking of sneaking about," Nitka looked to the Mouse, "it seems Cook has discovered one of her loaves already eaten. Was that the rolling pin, Frisby?"
"Wooden spoon," answered the Mouse. "The pin's being used on the crust for the meat pies she's preparing for the midday meal."
There was another shriek from the kitchen.
"Ah, it sounds like the others have started to come down. I should take my supper away before they see how big a piece I've snatched." Frisby leaned against the chunk of bread as if it were a rock, his body pressing into the soft flesh and making a curved dent in it.
"Supper?" Shasta asked, confused.
"It may be breakfast to you, your Highness, but it's supper to me. My shift just ended and I'm off to bed after my meal." His ears twitched, swiveling back towards the door. "Oh dear, I'd best be off. Sounds like they're headed this way and I think I hear Cook following right behind them. Good day to you all!" He snatched the piece of bread with his teeth and lowering to all four paws, scurried up the stairs and disappearing into the darkness.
Nitka nudged the two Humans with her nose. "We should go too, before the Mice come with an unhappy Cook." She pointed toward the stairs with her muzzle. "It won't be long now."
They descended quickly. As they reached the next landing, Aravis could hear loud, squeaky cries filling the air above them. The sounds of the Mice were followed by a yell of a different sort and she winced at the threats being uttered by whom she assumed was the infamous Cook. Briefly, she wondered what sort of person Cook was. Or, to be more specific, to which Narnian race did she belong. To use a rolling pin would require hands (Dwarf perhaps? Faun? Centaur?), or paws (Bear? Cat?) that could grip such a tool. Perhaps Cook was a Bird, a Griffin, and she used her talons…
"Oh, but she won't really do that, will she?" Shasta's voice broke through her musings and she could hear the concern in his tone and words.
"You need not worry, Highness," Nitka said. "Their Majesties will not allow it. And Cook knows it is the habit of the Mice to steal food from the kitchens."
"Well, she could just leave food out especially for them, couldn't she? That would solve all their problems."
The she-Wolf chuckled. "It would but the Mice will not touch it. Those in the Watch prefer to sneak their meals out from under her eyes. They see it as practice for their duties." Nitka stopped at the next landing. "And here we are."
They had reached the bottom of the stairwell. Here at the foot of the steps the ground felt different beneath their feet: it was packed dirt instead of stone, muffling the noise from their shoes. Though the torch fires were nearly extinguished, Aravis could see the faint outline of a door emerging in front of them. A pale grey light came through the narrow gap between door and frame, forming a thin, glowing rectangle. There did not seem to be a handle on this side of the door.
"Stand back." Nitka lowered her head and pawed at the wall to the right of the doorway. Aravis could not see what the she-Wolf was doing but after a few seconds, there was an audible click and the door slowly slid open.
"Oh!" said Aravis as she followed the Guard and stepped outside.
They were standing on the cliffs at the base of Cair Paravel. Here and there, she could make out the long, thin blades of grass that rose out from the cracks between the clusters of rocks where the castle was perched. Looking down, the sandy shore beneath them stretched out for some distance before meeting the sea. She could hear nothing but the waves as the tides rolled in from the Eastern Ocean, lapping along the coastline and crashing loudly against the rocky breakwaters in the harbor.
The sky had lightened considerably since Shasta had first knocked on her door. Blues and greys still hung overhead but as she looked towards the horizon, the colors of the morning were beginning to spread up from the line that divided sky from sea.
"Can we go any further?" Shasta asked as he stood behind her. "I mean, are we allowed to go down to the beach?"
"I don't see why not," Nitka mused, turning away from the view. "This way then," with her muzzle, she gestured to a point on their right. There was a narrow passage between the castle wall and the rocks, just wide enough for a person to fit comfortably.
In single file, they descended the well-worn trail. This time, Aravis brought up the rear as Shasta guided her past crumbling steps and warning her about parts of the path that sloped sharply ahead of them. She took her slippers off once they reached the beach, choosing to walk barefoot in the sand. As her feet sunk into the grainy ground, she thought of how different it was compared to the sands of Calormen. Instead of the hot, rough granules that dotted the country and filled the great Southern desert, the sand here was cool, moist and refreshing; it was not unlike walking on the grassy plains that surrounded Anvard.
They walked towards the water, stopping at a small group of boulders that protruded from the ground, marring the flat, smooth shore. Shasta climbed onto one of the large rocks and extended a hand, pulling her up beside him. There was a flat patch on top where they could sit with their faces to the sea.
"I will stay here," Nitka said from below, answering Shasta's silent question when he looked at her. She lay down on the sand, resting her head on her forepaws and watching the waves.
"I wish we brought a blanket," Shasta said as they settled themselves as comfortably as they could on the rocks. He swung his legs over the edge to give her more room to sit. "It's a bit chillier than I thought it would be."
Aravis snorted. "Well, I would have brought one had I known this is where you wanted to come." She tried to sit Calormene style—with her legs crossed and folded—but the skirt of her gown would not allow for it; instead, she followed Shasta and dangled her legs over the rocks. "The mornings are far colder in the North than they are in Calormen."
"Well, before Bree and that Tarkaan showed up, I had never traveled north, not even to Tashbaan. Arsheesh always went south to sell any fish we caught; the nearest village to his hut was about two hours away." He gazed across the sea, staring at the tiny orange dot that appeared in the middle of the horizon.
It was the second time he mentioned his foster father that day. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye; his face was impassive and he shivered a little, whether from cold or something else she was uncertain.
"You don't—," she hesitated, unsure if she should continue. "You don't miss him, do you?"
He did not answer at once. The roar of the waves seemed loud as the silence between them lengthened. She looked away from him and cast her eyes about, seeking a safer topic with which they could break the uneasy quiet that had settled upon the rock.
"When the Tarkaan appeared," Shasta eventually said, startling her, "and I learned that Arsheesh wasn't my real father, I was so pleased. I had never liked Arsheesh much and as hard as I tried, I could not love and respect him the way I saw boys in the village do with their own fathers."
"Shasta—"
He continued as if he had not heard her. "Did you know that for the briefest time, I thought perhaps the Tarkaan would be a better father than poor old Arsheesh?" He laughed bitterly. "Bree disabused me of that notion pretty quickly. I was such a fool, Aravis."
"Shasta," she began again, "how could you know? If Bree didn't speak to you—"
"If Bree wasn't a Talking Horse, I'd be better off dead than to have gone with that man." He sighed. "When I heard Arsheesh negotiating my worth, I wanted to hate him. But I couldn't, not really. He was just a poor fisherman and though he didn't treat me that well, he kept me safe and alive all these years. With him, I had a roof over my head and I was fed and well… living with him was a far better arrangement than where I could have ended up."
"But look at where you did end up, Cor," she said, deliberately using his true name. "Look at who you are. You are no fisherman's boy nor are you a slave to a Tarkaan. You're the son of a King, the Crown Prince of Archenland, and you live in a great castle—"
"I am, and I do," he agreed, "but really, I wouldn't be if it weren't for Bree, and Hwin, and you." He fell silent again and did not look at her, choosing to keep his eyes on the sea and sky before them.
She did not how to reply to that. As she searched for the right words, she looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. Everything was beginning to take on a reddish tinge, from her thin fingers to the front of her gown. Aravis raised her head up and looked out as the sun grew bigger and brighter in the distance, parting the sea with a thick orange light.
"Shamash was with us, too," she said.
"Who?" Shasta asked, bemused.
"Shamash, the Sun God. Did Arsheesh never speak of the other Gods besides Tash?"
The Prince shook his head.
"Shamash is the brother to Zardeenah, Lady of the Night. He keeps watch over the morning while his sister guards the evening." Aravis watched as the edge of the world caught on fire, the waves turning from liquid obsidian to sparkling gold. "In Calavar and Azim Balda, there are great temples devoted to him. He is not only the Lord of the Day but he is Justice as well—it's said that he shines a light upon the wrongs of the world and will punish those that have knowingly caused evil."
The sun was now above the horizon, a golden circle no bigger than the Crescents that used to fill her purse.
"I think Shamash had been watching over you ever since you were taken from your home." The sky was a swirl of color, pinks and oranges and shades of purples spreading outward from the sun. The golden sea rippled below them and Aravis was reminded of the great Desert and the long journey they had taken to cross it. "And it was he that returned you to your rightful place when it was time." She had not prayed to the Gods in a long time, not since the night she nearly took her own life. A quiet prayer fell from her lips as she thanked them for all they had done to bring them safely to the North and for uniting her friend with his family.
Shasta shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Should you," he began, hesitant, "should you still be praying to them, Aravis? We're not in Calormen anymore."
She bristled slightly; even in this tranquil place they could not escape the beginnings of a quarrel. "Why ever not? I may not live there but I'm a Calormene as much as I'm a Northerner now. It's in my blood, Shasta, and even if I wanted to, I cannot change who I am."
Aravis saw a dark blur move from the corner of her eye. She tilted her head and saw that Nitka had risen. The Wolf stood on all four paws and stared up at them, hackles raised and fur standing straight along her back; even her tail swung wildly behind her.
"Nitka, what is it?" she asked.
The she-Wolf whimpered and to Aravis' surprise, Nitka dropped back down onto the beach, flattening her body as close to the ground as possible. Before she could puzzle out the Guard's strange behavior, Shasta reached out and grabbed her hand.
"Aravis!" he cried with a strangled voice. She felt his grip tighten around her fingers. "Look behind you."
Slowly, she turned her head. What she saw made her gasp loudly, blocking out the sound of the crashing waves.
The large, golden Lion treaded softly in the sand as He approached them. Aravis could see the enormous prints he left behind in his wake, the paw-shaped impressions forming an alternating pattern that snaked across the beach. The sun behind them cast a warm glow on everything it touched, from the white walls of the great castle that towered over them to the rocks that marked the end of the shore. As sunlight struck upon the great Beast, He seemed to shine bigger and brighter than the hottest sun that hung over the great Desert.
Shasta released her hand, scrambling to rise from his seat. Aravis followed suit though she rose more gracefully than her friend, careful to keep the hem of her skirt from snagging on the rocks. She took Shasta's hand as he helped her to descend and once they reached the bottom, stood next to the Wolf that was prostrated on the beach.
Aravis could feel her heart pounding madly inside her as she curtseyed to the great Lion. She hoped he was not offended by the style of it for it was after the Calormene fashion. As she rose, she also wondered if he had heard her conversation with Shasta just now.
"It is well, my children." The Lion stopped, leaving a short distance between them. His eyes traveled from Aravis to Shasta and the Wolf, and then back on the dark-haired girl.
Nitka whimpered once more and crawled closer to Him. "Sire," she murmured, keeping her head close to the ground and not looking at him.
"You have done well, my Daughter," Aslan said, touching his nose to her head.
The wolf rumbled with pleasure at the praise. "I live to serve, Sire. I am honored to serve you and your Kings and Queens."
"And now, I wish to speak to my other children, Lady Wolf."
"Of course, Aslan." Nitka slowly backed away, her eyes never leaving the face of the Lion as she retreated a respectful distance away.
"Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve, walk with me."
Neither Human could refuse such a command. With Shasta on one side of the Lion and Aravis on the other, the three set off on a slow walk across the beach. Aravis could not help but note how big the Lion was; Shasta had grown several inches in the past two months and even still, Aslan was taller than he.
They walked along the edge of the beach. The ground was wonderfully cool beneath her feet and the waves rushed forward, filling the space between feet and paws with water and swirling the sand around them. She turned her head slightly away from Aslan; He was shining nearly as bright as the midday sun and her eyes could barely see anything but gold around her.
"Aslan," she felt that the Lion was waiting for her to speak. "Did you hear—I mean—"
"Peace, Daughter. Have I not said all is well?"
"But—"
Shasta interrupted her. "You're not mad, Aslan?"
He turned his great, golden head toward the Prince. "I am in many places and I have many names, son of Adam."
She watched as Shasta's eyes grew wide and his mouth formed a wide circle. She took advantage of his surprise and asked, "So you are in Calormen too, Sir?"
"I am, Daughter of Eve, and I have heard your prayers in Calavar and Prince Cor's at the little hut of the poor fisherman."
"Ha–have you been listening forever, Sir?"
He turned away from Shasta to look at her. As Aravis looked into his eyes, she could see the dawn and morning reflected in his gaze. "I have heard all of your prayers, Child, even if they were not made to the name that you know me by, and I am pleased."
"I am glad, Sir. Thank you."
He purred and the sound was a balm to her soul. For the first time since she left her home, she truly felt at peace.
"And you, Prince, are you content with the life I have given you?"
"I-I am, Aslan." Shasta paused. "Though it has scared me at times. I don't know how I'll handle being a Prince and when I'm older, a King. Am I the right person for all of this, Aslan?"
"As my Daughter had said, one cannot change who one is. You need not separate yourself from the past. You are both Shasta, the fisherman's son and Cor, Prince of Archenland. If you can reconcile both of these people into one, you will do well, my Son."
Shasta bowed his head at Aslan's words. "I will try my best, Aslan."
The great Lion then changed the subject. "And are you enjoying your adventure as well, my children?"
Aravis blinked. She had nearly forgotten the reason they were out here in the first place. "Shasta, what are we doing out here anyway? What's the adventure?"
"This," he waved a hand around them, fingers grazing Aslan's mane as he did so. The Lion took no notice or if he did, chose not to remark on it.
She looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. "I don't understand."
He leaned forward so she could see him beyond the Lion that walked between them. "The first time I ever truly saw the ocean was when Bree and I were making our escape. We were on top of a cliff, and everything was spread out before us. And when I saw it, it was then that I realized how much bigger the world really was." He closed his eyes, remembering. "And I felt such a longing to go down there and see it all—the world, the sea, the sky—with my own eyes."
"But I'm sure your Father would have allowed you to come down here later today. You needn't have to sneak around in the middle of the night to do so."
Shasta shook his head. "But then there would be people everywhere and ships sailing into and out of the harbor. I just wanted to be able to see everything and have it all to myself for a little while. And having lived a fisherman's life, I know for certain there's no better time to enjoy the sea than at the start of a new day."
Aravis turned, facing the east. The sky was bright enough and the sun high enough that it was no longer dawn: morning had finally come. She supposed he was right; the view was more ordinary now than it had been a little while ago. Before, when they were sitting on top of the rocks, everything seemed more magical and she could have believed that anything could happen. And with the exception of the Wolf that guided them, they had everything to themselves. The beach, the ocean, and time. Ever since Shasta learned who he was, they barely had a moment alone to just think and talk amongst themselves about their great adventure. Without this precious time, she would not have learned her friend's fears nor would she have been able to help him work through them.
Thank you. She reached out and unconsciously touched the Lion by her side, her hand sinking into the soft, golden mane.
Shasta spoke again. "Some of the Narnians have said your Country is to the East, beyond the sea, Aslan."
"There are many paths to my Country, my Son."
"I thought perhaps we might catch a glimpse of it from here."
Aslan chuckled and Aravis could feel his body shake beneath her fingers. "Both of you will see it in time. For now, I think it would be best for you to explore what is already here. There are many more adventures waiting for you in this world."
"Then we shall welcome them whenever they come, Sir," Aravis said, speaking for the both of them.
"I ask for nothing better, Daughter." Aslan stopped in his tracks and swung his head toward her, planting a Lion's Kiss on her forehead. She breathed deeply, taking in the warm, delicious scent before he withdrew his head to give the same blessing to Shasta. "And from you as well, my Son."
The Lion then stepped away from them, turning toward the sea. He lowered his head and each strand of his mane fell forward, moving like liquid gold. There was a moment of silence as Aravis waited to see what he would do. He lifted his head up towards the sky and as he shook his mane, she suddenly realized what would happen next and quickly clapped her hands to her ears. The same must have occurred to Shasta; she saw him mimicking her movements from the corner of her eye.
She closed her eyes just before Aslan roared. It was different from the ones he gave when he chased them across Calormen and into Archenland. She could feel the earth shake beneath her and the air rippling around her. Her hands shook with the force of his roar, fingers and palm barely blocking the loud rumbling beside her. Even with her ears covered, the sound came through like great peels of thunder.
And then it was over. She counted to five and then opened her eyes. Aslan was gone. She looked around and saw no sign of him anywhere. And yet when she glanced down, there was no mistaking the large paw prints in the sand.
"He's gone, hasn't he?" Shasta had just opened his eyes and was looking around as well.
"Yes, but he was here." She pointed down but the waves rolled in at that moment, white foam covering the tracks as the water surged across the shore. When the tide finally receded, the prints were gone and only flat, wet sand remained.
"Bree always said He's not a tame lion."
Shasta raised his head and looked at her. Aravis thought he looked different; the shadow that seemingly hovered over him had vanished. He appeared calmer, more at peace than she had ever seen him and as she looked into his eyes, she saw that placidity reflected back at her.
"It's morning," he said simply, looking up at the sky. There was a piercing cry and his eyes followed a flock of gulls as they flew across the heavens.
"Yes," she agreed, "it is. The day has barely begun and already we've had quite an adventure."
"We should probably head back before Father and Corin and their Majesties get too worried about us." Aravis nodded and together, they began walking back towards the path up to the castle. Nitka sat at the foot of the trail, watching and waiting patiently for them.
"And what shall we do after breakfast?"
"That's easy enough."
Aravis looked at him, bemused. "Is it?"
Shasta grinned. "We shall take on whatever adventure comes next."
End.
--
Footnotes:
Though depicted as a Calormene deity for the purposes of this story, Shamash actually comes from the Mesopotamian pantheon. According to mythology, he is a Sun god as well as the god of Justice. You can read more about Shamash on Wikipedia, the Encyclopedia Britannica, and at Gateways to Babylon.
Nitka's name comes from a 1919 novel by Olaf Baker. He wrote a book titled "Shasta of the Wolves"; the story is about a boy (Shasta) who is raised by a Nitka, a she-Wolf.
Frisby's name is in homage to Robert C. O'Brien's "Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH".
Original Prompt:
What I want: 1st choice: something set in rth-stewart's Not-My-Children's Narnia.
Alternate choice: Golden Age fic, Aslan's influence, Talking Beasts; sex is okay.
Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: "Oh, what light was cast upon the waves at dawn!"
What I definitely don't want in my fic: an unlikable, unsympathetic or sinful Susan
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Recipient:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The Horse and His Boy
Summary: On a distant shore, they find that morning brings more than the start of a new day.
Note: Many thanks to my beta for her insightful comments and encouragement.
For the mind disturbed, the still beauty of dawn is nature's finest balm.
— Edwin Way Teale
Longing is like the rosy dawn. After the dawn out comes the sun. Longing is followed by the vision of God.
— Ramakrishna
We are what we believe we are.
— C. S. Lewis
***
It was the loud rapping of the door that jarred her awake. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in her bed, one hand grasping at the blankets while the other reached for the short knife hidden beneath her pillow.
She took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly to soothe the quick beats of her heart. As she calmed, she loosed her fingers and wrinkled silk fell from her hand, fluttering downward and pooling gracefully into her lap. In her head, she clawed at the edges of her dream, desperately reaching out for fragments of the visions she had been immersed in before the unwelcome noise took her away from them.
Just as she began to gather those images to herself again, there was another knock at the door. Distracted by the interruption, she blinked and with it went the last tendrils of her reverie, scattered like leaves in the wind and disappearing into the abyss of long-forgotten memories.
She sighed and resigned herself to the loss. She thought for a minute, holding fast to the glimpses she had already fought against her consciousness for. There was a cliff, a green land and—
Thud. Thud. The sounds were even louder than before.
"Aravis?" came a muffled voice on the other side of the door.
With a groan, the dark-haired girl threw back the blankets and swung herself off the bed. Her feet touched the cool stone of the floor and without looking for her slippers, she proceeded towards the door. She crossed the room slowly; as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could dimly make out the large shapes of furniture scattered around the room. She stopped a few inches away from the door, standing still and listening quietly and carefully.
"Aravis?"
So he was still there. Now that she was closer, she could hear a little hesitation in his voice. That was good; it meant he was still wary of her moods. Wearily, she put one hand on the handle, pausing for a moment before letting him in. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, forcing the annoyance away and allowing a more neutral expression to settle on her face.
"Ara—"
He froze as she yanked the door open, catching him by surprise. He had one fist raised high in the air, as if preparing to knock again if there was no answer. It took several seconds before he reacted to the change. His eyes grew wide and he jumped back, giving a little yelp that echoed loudly in the corridor.
"Hush!" she ordered furiously in a whisper. Taking advantage of his stupor, she reached for his arm and pulled him inside. Before she closed the door, she ducked her head out to see if anyone else had noticed the commotion. It was very dim in the corridor, but not dark. Though some of the torches were still lit, the fires burned weakly in the sconces, offering little light to those that traveled through the hallway. Through one of the windows that lined the opposite wall, she could see it was still dark out, but the blue-black of the skies was beginning to pale into a grey color.
Hearing and seeing nothing in the hall, Aravis retreated into the room and shut the door. She turned around and leaning against the door, stared at the boy that disturbed her sleep.
"Well?" she demanded, tapping one bare foot impatiently on the floor while waiting for his response.
The boy did not answer.
Growing impatient, she frowned and folded her arms across her chest. "Cor?"
Still he said nothing.
"Shasta!" she snapped.
He blinked and finally looked at her. "Oh. Aravis."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. Really, she should have just called him by his old name to begin with; he had lived as Shasta nearly all his life and was quicker to respond to it than his true name. Not that she never used it anymore; it was always Cor in public and amongst his family but when it was just the two of them, she still used the name she came to know him by.
"What do you want, Shasta?" she asked, and followed up quickly with another question. "And do you know what time it is?"
"Yes, well," he began, shuffling his feet awkwardly while avoiding her gaze. His actions reminded her of some of the children she saw in Tashbaan – the young and scruffy servant boys that lived in the houses of the great Tarkaans along the upper rings of the capital. She made a mental note to herself to break him out of the habit; such behavior was not befitting of the Crown Prince of Archenland.
"I know it's early, Aravis, and I am sorry to have woken you."
His apology sounded so sincere that she softened at his words and her anger faded a little. After everything they had been through together, she knew he would not lie to her even over so trivial a matter.
"Very well," she relented, lowering her arms to her side and relaxing her stance. Her left hand brushed cool metal and she idly moved her fingers up and down the door handle. "What do you want, Shasta?" she asked, repeating her question from before. "What's so important that you're sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night?"
"Morning," he corrected. He turned his head and glanced at the open window in her room. "Dawn is coming."
"Morning, then." She would not allow him to change the subject. "It's still too early to be wandering around." She paused as a different thought came to her. "Are you having trouble sleeping, not being at home and all?"
Shasta shook his head. "No, no. It's nothing like that. And I've slept in far worse places than here. It's… well…" he hesitated for a moment and avoided her gaze again. "I was wondering if you wanted to join me on an adventure."
"Adventure?" she echoed, surprised. That was the last thing she expected him to say. "Shasta, don't you think we've had enough of adventures for a while?"
"This one's not so bad," he assured her. "On my honor as… as a Prince of Archenland." He stumbled over his title, still unused to his new station and life.
For a few seconds she said nothing, studying him quietly instead. The light in the room had been growing steadily brighter during their talk. Shasta was right: the morning was fast approaching.
Aravis sighed, realizing she would not be able to go back to sleep again. She had always been a light sleeper, waking as soon as the sun rose over her old home in Calavar. And though she was loathed to admit it, she was curious about what her friend was up to.
"All right," she finally agreed. "What kind of adventure is it?"
"Get dressed," he said. "We don't have much time." He glanced at the window again. "I'll tell you on the way."
It was then that she noticed he was not wearing his sleeping gown. Instead, the fair-haired boy wore a short tunic belted at the waist and hose. On his feet were the ankle boots worn by the men of Archenland. His appearance was far from the first impression she had of him nearly two months before.
She gave one him last look before stepping away from the door. It was light enough for her now to see more than blurry outlines of the furniture in the room. She opened a wardrobe door and as she began pulling clothes out, she said, "Turn around, Cor."
The Prince made a noise of surprise; for Aravis to call him by his real name meant she was either angry with him—which was quite possible since he did wake her too early—or she was trying to make a point. He settled on the latter and dutifully did as she commanded.
She turned her head and after confirming his back was to her, pulled her shift off and threw it on the bed. The air was cool on her skin and she shivered a little as she reached for the dress she withdrew from the wardrobe. The light fabric brushed her skin as the skirt fell toward the ground and she slid her arms into the narrow sleeves. She moved her hands to her back and after grasping futilely at the laces, sighed.
"Shasta, can you help me with the laces?" She was slowly growing accustomed to these Northern-style dresses but she disliked how the gowns needed to be fastened at the back; her fingers could not thread the ties on either side through the lace holes that rose from waist to neck and she could not call for a lady's maid to help her. Aravis missed the simplicity of Calormene robes: there were no cumbersome laces to bother with—only sashes that were knotted at the front or on the side, or fastened securely with a jeweled brooch.
She heard his footsteps as he approached. With one hand, she held the two sides of her dress up against her back while the other swept her long hair off her shoulders, pinning the strands into a loose bun with her fingers at the nape of her neck.
As his hands gently pried her own away from back of the dress, she felt the rough and calloused pads of his fingers graze against her skin.
"Sorry," he murmured as he set to the task.
She said nothing but stood still and silent. Slowly, she could feel the seams coming together and sealing her into the gown. His fingers steadily continued their work and she felt his breath on her bare skin.
"There," he said as soon as he finished. He then stepped back, allowing her to move freely.
"Thank you." Aravis quickly rubbed her fingers against the seams and laces, checking his work. "That was fast. Don't tell Farra but I think you're better at this sort of thing than she is."
He laughed. "You have Arsheesh to thank for that. It's much easier to lace up a dress than to repair a fisherman's net."
She glanced up sharply at him. Ever since he learned who he was, Shasta had rarely spoken of the man that raised him all these years. She could not see his face clearly—it was hidden by the shadows and last vestiges of the night—but she could hear the strain in his voice.
"Shasta—"
He interrupted her. "Are you ready, Aravis? We're running out of time."
It was clear he did not want to discuss the past so she set the issue aside for now. "One more minute; I just need to put my shoes on and then we can go." Judging from her friend's footwear, she assumed they were not going for a ride and quickly slid her feet into a pair of slippers instead of boots that required lacing.
He held the door open for her and she stepped into the corridor. The torches were nearly extinguished but she could make out all the windows that lined the wall as well as the doorways at either end.
"Which way?"
Shasta tilted his head to the left. "Through that door." There was a pause. "I think."
"You think? Do you even know where you want to go?"
"Well, yes," he said firmly, "I know where I want to go, at least where we need to be. It's just…" his voice trailed off.
"Lost already, your Highness?"
She and Shasta both jumped at the voice. Though it spoke in a high pitch, the sound was very small and tinny, as if it came from some distance away.
"Wh-who are you?" Aravis asked, being the first to recover from the surprise. Her eyes darted around the corridor and at the windows but she saw no one. "Show yourself."
"I am not hiding, Tarkheena," said the voice. "You need only to look up."
As one, she and Shasta tilted their heads up. Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness above them but she could see nothing. There was the sound of rustling and then a pair of eyes emerged from the shadows, glowing bright and staring back at them.
Shasta started, giving a little cry and taking a step back.
"Your pardon, Highness," said the Bat as it launched itself into the air, wings flapping loudly as it circled the two Humans before hanging upside down from a nearby window. "I did not mean to startle you."
"Who are you?" Aravis asked again, eyeing the creature warily. "Were you spying on us?"
The Bat gave itself a little shake; the movement reminded Aravis of heavy fruit quivering on a windblown branch. "Silly me, where are my manners?" the Bat reproached itself. "Prince Cor, Lady Aravis, we are well met. My name is Griff and I serve in the night watch of Cair Paravel."
Aravis opened her mouth, forming a silent 'O' with her lips. She faced the window and curtseyed in the Calormene fashion: she bent forward, sliding one foot behind her while making an elaborate gesture with her hand.
Griff screeched approvingly, his voice shrill and echoing briefly in the corridor.
"Ha-have you been watching us all this time?" Shasta asked as he found his voice again.
"Of course, your Highness. Vesp and I saw you leave your room and watched as you went to visit the Lady Aravis."
"Vesp?"
An answering screech erupted from the other end of the hallway, the sound piercing the air briefly before fading away.
"Oh," said Shasta. And then, "Are you going to tell Father? Or their Majesties?"
"Your affairs are your own, Prince. So long as you're not breaking any rules, we will speak nothing of your actions."
"I see." The fair-haired boy looked thoughtfully at the Bat. "Thank you."
Griff bowed, dipping his head and curling his body upward as he did so.
"Cor," Aravis drew her friend's gaze back onto her. "I thought you said we were running out of time."
"Oh. Oh! Yes!" Shasta quickly turned to Griff. "Do you know the quickest way to leave the castle?"
"Why, that's easy enough," the Bat replied. He stretched his wings, blocking the view from the window. After a moment, he took off, soaring into a dark niche above them. "Just go through the window, of course."
Aravis watched as Shasta stuck his head through the window and looked down. He quickly jerked back and she saw his face was paler than before. "We can't—that is—"
She understood and quickly interceded on his behalf. "What Cor means is that we are very high up in this part of the castle. Humans cannot jump out of the window at such a distance without injuring ourselves. We need to know quickest and safest route for Humans to take."
"Well, why didn't you say so before?" screeched Griff. The sound made Aravis want to cover her ears though she did not dare to do so for fear of seeming rude. She thought he might have been chuckling but it was hard for her to tell; she had never heard a Bat laugh before.
"It is unwise to ask a Bat question unless you wish to receive a flighty answer in return."
Aravis turned around and managed not to jump as a large Wolf approached. To his credit, Shasta managed to mute his reaction as well; the only outward sign she could see was that his eyes grew very wide.
The sound of flapping echoed loudly from above and then two small blurs dropped in front of her. Suddenly, she felt something clutching tightly at her shoulder. Aravis turned her head slightly and found herself eye-to-eye with a dark, furry Creature; from its smaller size, she could see that it was not Griff.
"Your pardon, Lady Aravis," the Bat squeaked into her ear, "but I do hope you and Prince Cor won't mind. The light is growing too bright for us at the windows to see clearly. We'll be off as soon as we can."
She glanced past the Bat and saw Shasta was in a similar situation, with Griff on his left shoulder while Vesp was on her right.
"It's fine," she whispered quietly to the small Anima beside her face.
Vesp bobbed his head at her before turning his attention to the Wolf.
"Captain," the Bat squeaked. He raised one wing and spread it outward before folding it in again. From the corner of her eye, Aravis saw Griff mimicking the action on Shasta's shoulder.
The Wolf raised its head, pointing its dark muzzle at the two creatures on their shoulders. "Night watch," the Wolf addressed the Bats in a deep—and to Aravis' surprise—feminine voice, "as you were." She swung her head toward the window, golden eyes seeming to glow amidst the dark fur of her face. "Though, your shift is ending soon, is it not?"
"Yes, Ma'am," replied Griff; though his voice still sounded high, it had taken on a more serious tone than when he spoke earlier. "As soon as the sun rises."
"For now, you may return to your duties. I wish to speak to our guests."
Aravis felt the hold loosen on her shoulder. After a few seconds, the weight disappeared completely as Vesp launched into the air, a dark blur in her vision as the Bat flew past her and up into the air. He melted into the darkness that still clung to the ceiling even as dawn was creeping in. She looked askance at Shasta and saw he was free of his light burden as well.
To the Humans, the she-Wolf lowered her head briefly to each of them. "Your Highness, Lady Aravis, good morn."
Aravis curtseyed again, substituting the hand gestures she had presented to Griff with those more suited to one of higher rank. She wasn't sure if the Wolf would know the intricacies of Calormene greetings but it was best to be proper about it—her parents hired the best tutors in Calavar and she knew how to execute the dozens of greetings required in society.
To her surprise, Shasta also greeted the Wolf formally. The Prince bowed sharply, bending at the waist. "Good morning…" his voice trailed off, unsure how to address the Wolf.
"Nitka," the Wolf answered, "of the Royal Guard."
"Good morning, Lady Nitka," Shasta repeated his greeting.
As she watched her friend rising from his bow, Aravis noted how different his movements were than when he first came to her as royalty. He was less awkward than he had once been; he moved more steadily and his actions were much more graceful than that day when he bowed to her at the Hermit's dwelling. To King Lune's credit, Lord Doren was an excellent tutor to the two Princes.
It dawned on her just how different the greetings were between her old home and her new one. Perhaps it was time for her to learn the customs and etiquette of the Northern kingdoms as well; there was no excuse not to and for all intents and purposes, she was a Northerner now. She would grow up as a woman of Archenland and no matter how she longed to see her younger brother again or her friends, she could not see herself returning to Calormen and making a home there. She resolved to speak to Queen Susan or Queen Lucy about the matter—if there were anyone who could help locate a suitable teacher for her, it would be the two Narnian Queens.
"How may we help you, Lady Nitka?" she asked politely, remembering the Wolf's earlier words to the Bats.
The she-Wolf swung her head towards Aravis. As golden eyes landed on her, she was reminded of the tales her Nurse had told of Narnia: it was said that some of the demons that inhabited the land took the form of animals but were much bigger than their normal counterparts. Nitka certainly fit the description: she was tall, larger than the biggest canine she had ever seen. As the Guard drew closer, she noted that the top of the Wolf's head reached her waist.
"I was looking for Prince Cor and when he wasn't in his room, assumed he came to see you instead, Lady Aravis."
Aravis looked at Shasta, who colored a bit at Nitka's words.
"I—that is—" he stammered. "You didn't wake Corin up, did you?"
The Wolf grinned, revealing several sharp teeth that glistened in the grey light. "Fear not, your Highness. Your royal brother is still asleep in his room." She growled in amusement. "We are used to Prince Corin's habits by now."
Shasta let out a sigh, relieved. With a more somber and anxious expression, he asked, "Why were you looking for me? Have I done something wrong?"
Nitka shook her head. "I was asked to escort you should you still wish to leave the castle this morn, your Highness."
The Prince looked at her with surprise. "How did you—that is—"
"Did you tell anyone about your plans, Cor?" Aravis asked. When he shook his head, she turned to the she-Wolf at their feet. "How did you know?"
"We have our ways," Nitka replied mysteriously. To Shasta, she said, "Well, your Highnesss? Tarkheena? Shall we go?"
"Yes! That is, if you don't mind," he amended hastily.
"Not at all; it is why I am here." The Wolf turned around and Aravis could see a faint, pale line running along part of her back. "If you will follow me, please."
Aravis looked at Shasta, and he nodded at her with a small smile. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for her to go first.
She cautiously followed the she-Wolf, keeping several paces behind her. As they neared the end of the hall, she was forced to stop abruptly when she noticed Nitka did not leave the corridor. Instead, the Wolf looked up into the darkened corners in the ceiling.
"I give you leave to end your shift early," Nitka said.
Aravis peered into the darkness and for a moment, could not see the two Bats that were up there. She heard movement and then saw a shift in the color of the shadows.
"Make your reports to Acerod and tell him I shall see to Prince Cor and Lady Aravis for now."
"Yes, Captain," replied one of the Bats; Aravis thought it was Griff that spoke but she wasn't certain. Two small heads poked out from the shadows and flew off, heading in the opposite direction.
The she-Wolf resumed her walk once more, leading them through the doorway and into another corridor. It appeared no different from the one they had just left, with several doors lining the hall on one side and windows facing them on another. Nitka padded down the hall quietly, her paws barely making any noise on the floor.
"I say," Shasta spoke in a whisper, "are you sure this is the right way? I thought we needed to go through the other door to get—"
"There are many ways to leave the castle, your Highness," Nitka replied. "And I think you were looking for the quickest way out?"
"Yes, Lady Nitka," he hesitated for a moment, "but are we not heading further into the castle? I thought we should be finding a way down instead."
The Wolf's tail swung sharply from side to side for a moment; Nitka growled but the sound did not seem to be one of anger. "We will be descending, Highness, in a moment." She stopped in front a large tapestry and with her muzzle, pushed one corner aside. Aravis stepped forward to help, sweeping the edge of the thick fabric back to reveal a door.
"Thank you, Lady Aravis."
The two Humans watched as the Wolf sniffed at the edge of the doorway before nudging at one spot with her nose. They heard a click and then creaking as the door swung inward, revealing a dark passageway that traveled straight ahead into a patch of darkness.
"This way, if you please." Nitka stepped across the threshold and began walking further in.
Aravis glanced at Shasta before following the she-Wolf into the tunnel. She had taken several paces forward before she realized she could not hear her friend behind her. Before she could turn around to look for him, the sound of hurried footsteps made her pause. And then, the door swung shut, sealing them in.
She had expected to be shrouded in black once the door closed but to her surprise, her feet was bathed in a golden pool of light and her shadow stretched long and dark before her. It was then she looked behind her shoulder.
"I went to grab these before I came inside," Shasta explained, handing her one of the dimly lit torches he held. "They don't offer too much light, but it's better than nothing."
She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a deeper voice.
"Hurry, your Highness, Tarkheena," Nitka called out from ahead, "you will not make it in time if we tarry here."
Aravis walked quickly with the Prince shortly behind her. By the light of the torch, she saw the corridor ending ahead. She slowed her steps as they neared the end and looking past the Wolf, she saw…
"Here is where we descend, Prince Cor."
They stood at the top of a spiral staircase. The steps did not appear to be too steep but the circular passageway was narrow; there was room enough for only one person to descend at a time. Aravis waited for Nitka to disappear behind the curve of the stairwell before she followed cautiously after her.
The three of them descended in silence for several minutes; the only sounds that could be heard were their footsteps echoing in a pattern off the stone around them. Soon, they reached a landing and an unmarked door. Aravis paused in front of it, assuming it was their destination but the she-Wolf shook her head and said, "We must continue further down."
"Are there other passages like this one in the castle?" Shasta asked from the rear.
"There are many," Nitka replied without breaking her stride or turning her head. "The castle staff routinely uses about a dozen of them but their Majesties and the Guard know of more."
Aravis recalled the conversations with the Bats. "Are you Captain of the Royal Guard, Lady Nitka?"
"I am," answered the Wolf. "I served under King Edmund for a time in the army before I joined the Guard."
As they passed another landing, Shasta posed another question. "Won't we get into trouble for being in here? I don't think their Majesties (and Father) will be happy finding out we've been sneaking around in Cair Paravel's secret tunnels."
Nitka chuckled, the sound rumbling in her throat. "All their Majesties will think nothing of it, Highness. After all, it was your royal brother that first discovered this passage."
Shasta stopped short. "Corin?!" he sputtered.
Aravis shook her head and turning slightly, nudged her friend, urging him to walk. Unlike Shasta, she was not surprised to learn this news of his brother. After observing Corin for two months, she noted how very different the twins were despite their similarity in appearance. While Cor was bashful and serious, his younger brother exuded a more carefree and adventurous nature.
"Queen Susan had her hands full with him over the years," Nitka said with amusement. "Prince Corin never fails to make an impression with every visit to the Cair. He caused her Majesty much distress when he hid in this passage during a game of hide-and-seek."
"I can imagine," Cor said seriously, remembering his first impression of the dark-haired Queen in Tashbaan. "Queen Susan must have been quite angry with him."
"Indeed," the Wolf agreed. "But she didn't punish him too harshly; he was a much younger cub than he is now. Her Majesty made him reveal the locations of every secret passage he found in the castle after that."
They had passed several more landings and doorways; Aravis lost count of them during the discussion of Corin and Queen Susan. However, she did think they were nearing the ground floor by now. The lower they descended, the louder the sounds were on the opposite side of the doors.
Presently, they arrived on a landing where the door was slightly ajar. A shaft of light poured through the opening, forming a bright rectangle on the ground. Nitka paused in front of it, sniffing through the crack. Aravis stepped closer and she could hear shrieking among the clacking and clanging of metal on metal.
"Are we near the armory?" Shasta asked, peering over her shoulder. "Or the tilt yard?"
Nitka turned and grinned, revealing her sharp teeth. "Better than that. Can you not smell where we are?"
Aravis stared at her in surprise. She turned back to the door and leaning forward, sniffed the air. The dank and musty smell of the stairs gave way to the cool, sharp breeze that blew through the slit in the doorway. Her eyes grew wide as she caught a whiff of the scent that floated on the breeze. She peered out, spying loaves of freshly baked bread on a large wooden table. In between the sounds of pots and pans and harried conversation, she could hear something sizzling in the background. She breathed in and wrinkled her nose in dislike: it was butter, the Northerners' preferred cooking staple and spread; the taste itself wasn't terrible, but she missed the flavored oils and spices of Calormene cooking.
"That smells good," Shasta said, breathing in the delicious air.
"And you shall have it soon enough, your Highness." There was a pause. "That is, if the others haven't eaten it all."
There was more shrieking in the kitchen, followed by a very large thud against the door. Aravis winced as the door shook on its hinges, reverberating from whatever object struck it. Something furry brushed against her feet and she jumped, startled.
"Aravi—" Shasta began, stopping as the dark-haired girl pushed him backward.
"Oh, I do beg your pardon!" came a voice from below.
The Humans and the Wolf looked down. A large Mouse had slid in through the gap in the door; it stood on its hind legs as it tilted its head back to look up at them. On the ground in front of it was a large chunk of bread, the crust and crumbs of which were jagged, as if it was ripped hastily from the loaf.
"Oh!" the Mouse squeaked again, whiskers twitching anxiously. "Humans! What are you doing in here?" It gazed at Aravis and then at Shasta. "Ah, your Highness. Is it not too early to go sneaking about in the day? What will her Majesty say?"
"He is not Prince Corin," Nitka said dryly.
The Mouse swung his head toward the Wolf. "Captain!" He raised one of its forepaws in salute to her. "Not Prince Corin?" He turned back and after looking at Shasta again, bent down and sniffed at the Prince's clothes and shoes. "Oh. My apologies, Prince Cor. Should have known better, you know. You and your royal brother smell nothing alike." To Aravis, he added, "And good morn to you, Tarkheena."
"Good morning," she replied politely, hiding the smile that formed at the Mouse's remark on her friends. She was much amused by the discussions with the Narnians; such comments would have been considered grave insults in Calormen but they made complete sense in a land inhabited by Talking Creatures.
"And speaking of sneaking about," Nitka looked to the Mouse, "it seems Cook has discovered one of her loaves already eaten. Was that the rolling pin, Frisby?"
"Wooden spoon," answered the Mouse. "The pin's being used on the crust for the meat pies she's preparing for the midday meal."
There was another shriek from the kitchen.
"Ah, it sounds like the others have started to come down. I should take my supper away before they see how big a piece I've snatched." Frisby leaned against the chunk of bread as if it were a rock, his body pressing into the soft flesh and making a curved dent in it.
"Supper?" Shasta asked, confused.
"It may be breakfast to you, your Highness, but it's supper to me. My shift just ended and I'm off to bed after my meal." His ears twitched, swiveling back towards the door. "Oh dear, I'd best be off. Sounds like they're headed this way and I think I hear Cook following right behind them. Good day to you all!" He snatched the piece of bread with his teeth and lowering to all four paws, scurried up the stairs and disappearing into the darkness.
Nitka nudged the two Humans with her nose. "We should go too, before the Mice come with an unhappy Cook." She pointed toward the stairs with her muzzle. "It won't be long now."
They descended quickly. As they reached the next landing, Aravis could hear loud, squeaky cries filling the air above them. The sounds of the Mice were followed by a yell of a different sort and she winced at the threats being uttered by whom she assumed was the infamous Cook. Briefly, she wondered what sort of person Cook was. Or, to be more specific, to which Narnian race did she belong. To use a rolling pin would require hands (Dwarf perhaps? Faun? Centaur?), or paws (Bear? Cat?) that could grip such a tool. Perhaps Cook was a Bird, a Griffin, and she used her talons…
"Oh, but she won't really do that, will she?" Shasta's voice broke through her musings and she could hear the concern in his tone and words.
"You need not worry, Highness," Nitka said. "Their Majesties will not allow it. And Cook knows it is the habit of the Mice to steal food from the kitchens."
"Well, she could just leave food out especially for them, couldn't she? That would solve all their problems."
The she-Wolf chuckled. "It would but the Mice will not touch it. Those in the Watch prefer to sneak their meals out from under her eyes. They see it as practice for their duties." Nitka stopped at the next landing. "And here we are."
They had reached the bottom of the stairwell. Here at the foot of the steps the ground felt different beneath their feet: it was packed dirt instead of stone, muffling the noise from their shoes. Though the torch fires were nearly extinguished, Aravis could see the faint outline of a door emerging in front of them. A pale grey light came through the narrow gap between door and frame, forming a thin, glowing rectangle. There did not seem to be a handle on this side of the door.
"Stand back." Nitka lowered her head and pawed at the wall to the right of the doorway. Aravis could not see what the she-Wolf was doing but after a few seconds, there was an audible click and the door slowly slid open.
"Oh!" said Aravis as she followed the Guard and stepped outside.
They were standing on the cliffs at the base of Cair Paravel. Here and there, she could make out the long, thin blades of grass that rose out from the cracks between the clusters of rocks where the castle was perched. Looking down, the sandy shore beneath them stretched out for some distance before meeting the sea. She could hear nothing but the waves as the tides rolled in from the Eastern Ocean, lapping along the coastline and crashing loudly against the rocky breakwaters in the harbor.
The sky had lightened considerably since Shasta had first knocked on her door. Blues and greys still hung overhead but as she looked towards the horizon, the colors of the morning were beginning to spread up from the line that divided sky from sea.
"Can we go any further?" Shasta asked as he stood behind her. "I mean, are we allowed to go down to the beach?"
"I don't see why not," Nitka mused, turning away from the view. "This way then," with her muzzle, she gestured to a point on their right. There was a narrow passage between the castle wall and the rocks, just wide enough for a person to fit comfortably.
In single file, they descended the well-worn trail. This time, Aravis brought up the rear as Shasta guided her past crumbling steps and warning her about parts of the path that sloped sharply ahead of them. She took her slippers off once they reached the beach, choosing to walk barefoot in the sand. As her feet sunk into the grainy ground, she thought of how different it was compared to the sands of Calormen. Instead of the hot, rough granules that dotted the country and filled the great Southern desert, the sand here was cool, moist and refreshing; it was not unlike walking on the grassy plains that surrounded Anvard.
They walked towards the water, stopping at a small group of boulders that protruded from the ground, marring the flat, smooth shore. Shasta climbed onto one of the large rocks and extended a hand, pulling her up beside him. There was a flat patch on top where they could sit with their faces to the sea.
"I will stay here," Nitka said from below, answering Shasta's silent question when he looked at her. She lay down on the sand, resting her head on her forepaws and watching the waves.
"I wish we brought a blanket," Shasta said as they settled themselves as comfortably as they could on the rocks. He swung his legs over the edge to give her more room to sit. "It's a bit chillier than I thought it would be."
Aravis snorted. "Well, I would have brought one had I known this is where you wanted to come." She tried to sit Calormene style—with her legs crossed and folded—but the skirt of her gown would not allow for it; instead, she followed Shasta and dangled her legs over the rocks. "The mornings are far colder in the North than they are in Calormen."
"Well, before Bree and that Tarkaan showed up, I had never traveled north, not even to Tashbaan. Arsheesh always went south to sell any fish we caught; the nearest village to his hut was about two hours away." He gazed across the sea, staring at the tiny orange dot that appeared in the middle of the horizon.
It was the second time he mentioned his foster father that day. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye; his face was impassive and he shivered a little, whether from cold or something else she was uncertain.
"You don't—," she hesitated, unsure if she should continue. "You don't miss him, do you?"
He did not answer at once. The roar of the waves seemed loud as the silence between them lengthened. She looked away from him and cast her eyes about, seeking a safer topic with which they could break the uneasy quiet that had settled upon the rock.
"When the Tarkaan appeared," Shasta eventually said, startling her, "and I learned that Arsheesh wasn't my real father, I was so pleased. I had never liked Arsheesh much and as hard as I tried, I could not love and respect him the way I saw boys in the village do with their own fathers."
"Shasta—"
He continued as if he had not heard her. "Did you know that for the briefest time, I thought perhaps the Tarkaan would be a better father than poor old Arsheesh?" He laughed bitterly. "Bree disabused me of that notion pretty quickly. I was such a fool, Aravis."
"Shasta," she began again, "how could you know? If Bree didn't speak to you—"
"If Bree wasn't a Talking Horse, I'd be better off dead than to have gone with that man." He sighed. "When I heard Arsheesh negotiating my worth, I wanted to hate him. But I couldn't, not really. He was just a poor fisherman and though he didn't treat me that well, he kept me safe and alive all these years. With him, I had a roof over my head and I was fed and well… living with him was a far better arrangement than where I could have ended up."
"But look at where you did end up, Cor," she said, deliberately using his true name. "Look at who you are. You are no fisherman's boy nor are you a slave to a Tarkaan. You're the son of a King, the Crown Prince of Archenland, and you live in a great castle—"
"I am, and I do," he agreed, "but really, I wouldn't be if it weren't for Bree, and Hwin, and you." He fell silent again and did not look at her, choosing to keep his eyes on the sea and sky before them.
She did not how to reply to that. As she searched for the right words, she looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. Everything was beginning to take on a reddish tinge, from her thin fingers to the front of her gown. Aravis raised her head up and looked out as the sun grew bigger and brighter in the distance, parting the sea with a thick orange light.
"Shamash was with us, too," she said.
"Who?" Shasta asked, bemused.
"Shamash, the Sun God. Did Arsheesh never speak of the other Gods besides Tash?"
The Prince shook his head.
"Shamash is the brother to Zardeenah, Lady of the Night. He keeps watch over the morning while his sister guards the evening." Aravis watched as the edge of the world caught on fire, the waves turning from liquid obsidian to sparkling gold. "In Calavar and Azim Balda, there are great temples devoted to him. He is not only the Lord of the Day but he is Justice as well—it's said that he shines a light upon the wrongs of the world and will punish those that have knowingly caused evil."
The sun was now above the horizon, a golden circle no bigger than the Crescents that used to fill her purse.
"I think Shamash had been watching over you ever since you were taken from your home." The sky was a swirl of color, pinks and oranges and shades of purples spreading outward from the sun. The golden sea rippled below them and Aravis was reminded of the great Desert and the long journey they had taken to cross it. "And it was he that returned you to your rightful place when it was time." She had not prayed to the Gods in a long time, not since the night she nearly took her own life. A quiet prayer fell from her lips as she thanked them for all they had done to bring them safely to the North and for uniting her friend with his family.
Shasta shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Should you," he began, hesitant, "should you still be praying to them, Aravis? We're not in Calormen anymore."
She bristled slightly; even in this tranquil place they could not escape the beginnings of a quarrel. "Why ever not? I may not live there but I'm a Calormene as much as I'm a Northerner now. It's in my blood, Shasta, and even if I wanted to, I cannot change who I am."
Aravis saw a dark blur move from the corner of her eye. She tilted her head and saw that Nitka had risen. The Wolf stood on all four paws and stared up at them, hackles raised and fur standing straight along her back; even her tail swung wildly behind her.
"Nitka, what is it?" she asked.
The she-Wolf whimpered and to Aravis' surprise, Nitka dropped back down onto the beach, flattening her body as close to the ground as possible. Before she could puzzle out the Guard's strange behavior, Shasta reached out and grabbed her hand.
"Aravis!" he cried with a strangled voice. She felt his grip tighten around her fingers. "Look behind you."
Slowly, she turned her head. What she saw made her gasp loudly, blocking out the sound of the crashing waves.
The large, golden Lion treaded softly in the sand as He approached them. Aravis could see the enormous prints he left behind in his wake, the paw-shaped impressions forming an alternating pattern that snaked across the beach. The sun behind them cast a warm glow on everything it touched, from the white walls of the great castle that towered over them to the rocks that marked the end of the shore. As sunlight struck upon the great Beast, He seemed to shine bigger and brighter than the hottest sun that hung over the great Desert.
Shasta released her hand, scrambling to rise from his seat. Aravis followed suit though she rose more gracefully than her friend, careful to keep the hem of her skirt from snagging on the rocks. She took Shasta's hand as he helped her to descend and once they reached the bottom, stood next to the Wolf that was prostrated on the beach.
Aravis could feel her heart pounding madly inside her as she curtseyed to the great Lion. She hoped he was not offended by the style of it for it was after the Calormene fashion. As she rose, she also wondered if he had heard her conversation with Shasta just now.
"It is well, my children." The Lion stopped, leaving a short distance between them. His eyes traveled from Aravis to Shasta and the Wolf, and then back on the dark-haired girl.
Nitka whimpered once more and crawled closer to Him. "Sire," she murmured, keeping her head close to the ground and not looking at him.
"You have done well, my Daughter," Aslan said, touching his nose to her head.
The wolf rumbled with pleasure at the praise. "I live to serve, Sire. I am honored to serve you and your Kings and Queens."
"And now, I wish to speak to my other children, Lady Wolf."
"Of course, Aslan." Nitka slowly backed away, her eyes never leaving the face of the Lion as she retreated a respectful distance away.
"Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve, walk with me."
Neither Human could refuse such a command. With Shasta on one side of the Lion and Aravis on the other, the three set off on a slow walk across the beach. Aravis could not help but note how big the Lion was; Shasta had grown several inches in the past two months and even still, Aslan was taller than he.
They walked along the edge of the beach. The ground was wonderfully cool beneath her feet and the waves rushed forward, filling the space between feet and paws with water and swirling the sand around them. She turned her head slightly away from Aslan; He was shining nearly as bright as the midday sun and her eyes could barely see anything but gold around her.
"Aslan," she felt that the Lion was waiting for her to speak. "Did you hear—I mean—"
"Peace, Daughter. Have I not said all is well?"
"But—"
Shasta interrupted her. "You're not mad, Aslan?"
He turned his great, golden head toward the Prince. "I am in many places and I have many names, son of Adam."
She watched as Shasta's eyes grew wide and his mouth formed a wide circle. She took advantage of his surprise and asked, "So you are in Calormen too, Sir?"
"I am, Daughter of Eve, and I have heard your prayers in Calavar and Prince Cor's at the little hut of the poor fisherman."
"Ha–have you been listening forever, Sir?"
He turned away from Shasta to look at her. As Aravis looked into his eyes, she could see the dawn and morning reflected in his gaze. "I have heard all of your prayers, Child, even if they were not made to the name that you know me by, and I am pleased."
"I am glad, Sir. Thank you."
He purred and the sound was a balm to her soul. For the first time since she left her home, she truly felt at peace.
"And you, Prince, are you content with the life I have given you?"
"I-I am, Aslan." Shasta paused. "Though it has scared me at times. I don't know how I'll handle being a Prince and when I'm older, a King. Am I the right person for all of this, Aslan?"
"As my Daughter had said, one cannot change who one is. You need not separate yourself from the past. You are both Shasta, the fisherman's son and Cor, Prince of Archenland. If you can reconcile both of these people into one, you will do well, my Son."
Shasta bowed his head at Aslan's words. "I will try my best, Aslan."
The great Lion then changed the subject. "And are you enjoying your adventure as well, my children?"
Aravis blinked. She had nearly forgotten the reason they were out here in the first place. "Shasta, what are we doing out here anyway? What's the adventure?"
"This," he waved a hand around them, fingers grazing Aslan's mane as he did so. The Lion took no notice or if he did, chose not to remark on it.
She looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. "I don't understand."
He leaned forward so she could see him beyond the Lion that walked between them. "The first time I ever truly saw the ocean was when Bree and I were making our escape. We were on top of a cliff, and everything was spread out before us. And when I saw it, it was then that I realized how much bigger the world really was." He closed his eyes, remembering. "And I felt such a longing to go down there and see it all—the world, the sea, the sky—with my own eyes."
"But I'm sure your Father would have allowed you to come down here later today. You needn't have to sneak around in the middle of the night to do so."
Shasta shook his head. "But then there would be people everywhere and ships sailing into and out of the harbor. I just wanted to be able to see everything and have it all to myself for a little while. And having lived a fisherman's life, I know for certain there's no better time to enjoy the sea than at the start of a new day."
Aravis turned, facing the east. The sky was bright enough and the sun high enough that it was no longer dawn: morning had finally come. She supposed he was right; the view was more ordinary now than it had been a little while ago. Before, when they were sitting on top of the rocks, everything seemed more magical and she could have believed that anything could happen. And with the exception of the Wolf that guided them, they had everything to themselves. The beach, the ocean, and time. Ever since Shasta learned who he was, they barely had a moment alone to just think and talk amongst themselves about their great adventure. Without this precious time, she would not have learned her friend's fears nor would she have been able to help him work through them.
Thank you. She reached out and unconsciously touched the Lion by her side, her hand sinking into the soft, golden mane.
Shasta spoke again. "Some of the Narnians have said your Country is to the East, beyond the sea, Aslan."
"There are many paths to my Country, my Son."
"I thought perhaps we might catch a glimpse of it from here."
Aslan chuckled and Aravis could feel his body shake beneath her fingers. "Both of you will see it in time. For now, I think it would be best for you to explore what is already here. There are many more adventures waiting for you in this world."
"Then we shall welcome them whenever they come, Sir," Aravis said, speaking for the both of them.
"I ask for nothing better, Daughter." Aslan stopped in his tracks and swung his head toward her, planting a Lion's Kiss on her forehead. She breathed deeply, taking in the warm, delicious scent before he withdrew his head to give the same blessing to Shasta. "And from you as well, my Son."
The Lion then stepped away from them, turning toward the sea. He lowered his head and each strand of his mane fell forward, moving like liquid gold. There was a moment of silence as Aravis waited to see what he would do. He lifted his head up towards the sky and as he shook his mane, she suddenly realized what would happen next and quickly clapped her hands to her ears. The same must have occurred to Shasta; she saw him mimicking her movements from the corner of her eye.
She closed her eyes just before Aslan roared. It was different from the ones he gave when he chased them across Calormen and into Archenland. She could feel the earth shake beneath her and the air rippling around her. Her hands shook with the force of his roar, fingers and palm barely blocking the loud rumbling beside her. Even with her ears covered, the sound came through like great peels of thunder.
And then it was over. She counted to five and then opened her eyes. Aslan was gone. She looked around and saw no sign of him anywhere. And yet when she glanced down, there was no mistaking the large paw prints in the sand.
"He's gone, hasn't he?" Shasta had just opened his eyes and was looking around as well.
"Yes, but he was here." She pointed down but the waves rolled in at that moment, white foam covering the tracks as the water surged across the shore. When the tide finally receded, the prints were gone and only flat, wet sand remained.
"Bree always said He's not a tame lion."
Shasta raised his head and looked at her. Aravis thought he looked different; the shadow that seemingly hovered over him had vanished. He appeared calmer, more at peace than she had ever seen him and as she looked into his eyes, she saw that placidity reflected back at her.
"It's morning," he said simply, looking up at the sky. There was a piercing cry and his eyes followed a flock of gulls as they flew across the heavens.
"Yes," she agreed, "it is. The day has barely begun and already we've had quite an adventure."
"We should probably head back before Father and Corin and their Majesties get too worried about us." Aravis nodded and together, they began walking back towards the path up to the castle. Nitka sat at the foot of the trail, watching and waiting patiently for them.
"And what shall we do after breakfast?"
"That's easy enough."
Aravis looked at him, bemused. "Is it?"
Shasta grinned. "We shall take on whatever adventure comes next."
End.
--
Footnotes:
Though depicted as a Calormene deity for the purposes of this story, Shamash actually comes from the Mesopotamian pantheon. According to mythology, he is a Sun god as well as the god of Justice. You can read more about Shamash on Wikipedia, the Encyclopedia Britannica, and at Gateways to Babylon.
Nitka's name comes from a 1919 novel by Olaf Baker. He wrote a book titled "Shasta of the Wolves"; the story is about a boy (Shasta) who is raised by a Nitka, a she-Wolf.
Frisby's name is in homage to Robert C. O'Brien's "Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH".
Original Prompt:
What I want: 1st choice: something set in rth-stewart's Not-My-Children's Narnia.
Alternate choice: Golden Age fic, Aslan's influence, Talking Beasts; sex is okay.
Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: "Oh, what light was cast upon the waves at dawn!"
What I definitely don't want in my fic: an unlikable, unsympathetic or sinful Susan
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-08 10:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-08 10:50 pm (UTC)And as for the rest, a lovely story between the two of them, a bit of adventure, a lot of the bond, some nice growth by both characters, a hint of attraction to come with the lacing of the gown, and Aslan was glorious. I love the Beast bit players and the reinforcement of Aslan's message that good service to others is service to him. Also, a lovely fulfilling of the prompt.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-09 02:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-09 02:40 am (UTC)I love it when these two have moments together, well done. =)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-09 03:21 am (UTC)On a related note, I also really like that Aravis notices things about Cor, and that her first reaction is to pull him into her room and hope they're not in trouble, rather than to shut him out and let him deal with any potential mess on his own. They do work well together. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:20 am (UTC)Given that only a few months had passed since she fled Calormen, I think Aravis would often find herself comparing her old home to her new one. She's still treated well and as a noblewoman and for all that Cor is an Archenland Prince, he really has no recollection of the time before Lord Bar kidnapped him.
And I really enjoyed writing this from Aravis' POV, we are seeing through her eyes how she's adapting and how her friend is slowly relearning how things work in his real home as well as accepting who he is.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-09 01:45 pm (UTC)Loved the use of the Rthverse, too!
also, omg, FRISBY! My other favorite childhood book!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:24 am (UTC)At this point, I think there would be a lot of trust and understanding between Cor and Aravis, given all they went through together. Cor probably trusts (and is more unguarded) her more than his own brother and Aravis would probably notice if he's "off" in any way before anyone else does.
Thank you for your comments!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-10 12:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:26 am (UTC)For all that Calormen is considered "bad" and "evil", we really don't know much about the empire except that the Tisroc and those close to him are very... ambitious. :-) I've really enjoyed the worldbuilding here since Lewis barely gave us anything to work with, and it's been fun having Aravis compare life in Calormen to life in Archenland.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-10 02:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-10 12:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-11 02:07 pm (UTC)I LOVE the way you have captured Aravis' Calormenisms, and the ambiguities & challenges both of them face in making an unexpected transition into another culture.
And, what delicious details you provide about living in Narnia. This is a quiet, normal little moment of a quiet, normal day at the Cair, and it's all just magical. Ahahahaaa, Cook and the Mice! Cook will need to be an Orangutan at this point, multi-talented, subtle and willing to play the game of Mice stealing from the fresh loaves every morning!
And, perhaps most deeply, I am moved to tears by your Aslan. I haven't seen it written so specifically before, that Aslan is everywhere, and that the name of the personality is not so vital, but Yes! Yes! Pantheon or Monotheistic, there are many paths to Aslan's country!
Thank you for writing such a delightful and meticulous story. I wasn't sure what to expect - this is my first time playing in the Narnia Fic Exchange and I couldn't be more pleased.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:39 am (UTC)I never realized how much fun it would be to write Aravis (and Cor), but now I'm a big fan of hers. Lewis left few descriptions of Calormene life in HHB so it was pretty fun to do some worldbuilding here, and see it all from Aravis' view. I think it would be fun to see more about life in the North through her eyes as well, not just in these few short scenes.
Trying to write something set in Ruth's world (per your request) was remarkably difficult given how she had been updating her universe a lot lately, so the best I could do was write Animals that were as Beastly as hers. :-) Cook would be very interesting as an Oragutan -- it's certainly not my first choice as to what kind of Narnian she would actually be.
And I'm glad you liked Aslan here. I was hesitant about how He would come across, given fandom's general reactions to him being the only real God in the Chronicles. As I said to Ruth above, I was inspired by Aslan's talk with Emeth in TLB and hoped this would be taken in the same spirit.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 09:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-14 03:12 am (UTC)Loved the various Beasts we met, and the children's meeting with Aslan was very well done.
Thanks so much for sharing the story with us!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 12:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-27 04:37 pm (UTC)What was most striking to me when reading this was the physical symbolism we get with their "adventure" in the castle and on the beach. They begin upstairs, on the surface level of themselves, acting as they always have, and then they find a hidden passageway that takes them down multiple levels - down into the castle, and down into themselves, until they emerge on the beach and are talking about much more important and intimate things, particularly Shasta's fears about his new life, and whether he will be able to reconcile the old life with the new. And then, of course, the sunrise - always a symbol of fresh starts and new days.
And the discussion of Gods, oh, the discussion of Gods. I adored it. Aslan is everywhere, by many names, and I was thrilled with how clear you made that, in Aravis's comments about the gods of Calormen, and Aslan's explicit ackowledgement that he has always heard Cor and Aravis, no matter what name they were praying to. What a wonderful way to bring in a god for Calormen - Mesopotamia seems like a particularly appropriate place to borrow a god from, for some reason. :) Thank you so much for such a wonderful tale.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 01:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-08 04:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-09 11:34 pm (UTC)What a delightful story. It is such a big transition that both Shasta and Aravis made, and not one that can really be accepted or learned how to live overnight. You did a fantastic job bridging the two worlds that they now live in- because they, like the rest of the visitors to Narnia, are bridges between worlds and must live in both, somehow.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-12 01:26 am (UTC)Cor's experiences living as a peasant boy in Calormen will go a long way to shaping his future as King. He'll understand what it means to be poor and not have anything, and he'll have knowledge of Calormene society and politics that is far more intimate than what a diplomat will ever tell him.
For Aravis, she too has a lot to get accustomed to now. She and Cor have swapped positions -- now she is a nobody (albeit a very known nobody) and she too will have to learn to adjust to a new culture and customs, while trying to get the Northerners to look beyond her color and nationality.
And when they are older, the two of them as King and Queen will likely have a very interesting time dealing with their neighbors to the south. :-)