Fic, Narnia, King Lune
Title: colors fade to grey
Fandom: Narnia
Written for and cross posted at: narniaexchange Fall 2009
Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: General book spoilers (HHB, etc)
Summary: The tragic life of Lune, King of Archenland.
AN: Thanks to sloanesomething for the thumbs up and pwincess for the beta.
The news arrives fast on the northern wind.
- The ice is melting, my king.
- Her barriers are falling, her guardsmen have vanished.
- The witch is dead! Unknown conquerors have taken the throne.
It has been over a hundred years since Archenland bordered a friendly neighbor. Lune is unsure what comes next.
*
They are mere children, his spies report. But Aslan’s light is ever upon them.
"Send them gifts," his queen tells him. To the kings, they send gold and gems; to the queens, they send elegant finery; to the realm, they send ambassadors and invitations.
*
Almost adults in miniature, the eldest queen and youngest king of Narnia arrive midday. Their retinue is a host of talking animals and cheerful looking dwarfs. Lune bows to them low, and his queen curtsies elegantly, despite her growing belly.
In response, the Narnian rulers give a courtly bow, hand in hand. "Narnia greets her esteemed neighbor," the king says.
Intrigued by their formality, Lune replies, "Archenland bids you heartily welcome."
The raved-haired queen reaches out her hand to him, and he takes it. "I am Susan, and this is my brother, Edmund. The High King Peter and my youngest sister, Lucy, send their regards." He searches her eyes and is impressed with the surety in which this girlchild faces matters of state.
She turns to his queen, her eyes suddenly sparkling. "You are expecting soon?," she asks politely.
His queen chuckles. "Nay, your majesty, not for some time yet. I have been blessed with twins."
Susan's eyes widen, and her cheeks grow pink, before she checks herself. "You are blessed indeed," she replies.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lune spies Edmund's lips twinge.
He is reminded that despite their manner, despite their dress, despite their titles, they are but children.
*
After a day of verbally sparring with Susan, and watching Edmund battle his bravest knights, Lune changes his mind.
*
Moonlight shines through the window as Lune reviews the new trade agreements. Narnia's ports have opened and the trading world adjusts. A smile remains on his face, as he reads the words; his feet still ache from dancing. Narnians live up to their reputation - they are a merry people, he thinks.
"They're gone," Bar says, entering. "At last."
Lune despises the Lord Chancellor, but Bar's family has been faithful and true to Archenland for centuries. He's harmless, Lune tells himself.
"The queen finds them charming," he replies.
Bar sniffs and moves to sit next to him, a goblet of wine in his hand. "Of course, they are children," he says. "Very charming."
"History tells us that Narnia has always been a most respectful sister country," Lune replies. "Our borders will be safe; trading will expand, markets will grow."
"Do you think they will also visit the Tisroc?" Bar asks after a long moment.
Lune looks up from his orders to catch a fleeting, hungry look on Bar's face. Strange, unusual man, he thinks. "If they wish to trade, they will."
"Calormen will eat them alive."
Leaning back in his chair, he shakes his head. "You forget, sir. These children defeated the White Witch, brought Narnia out of icy darkness and evil sorcery. They are more formidable than they appear."
*
The High King visits the following month, his words full of gratitude for Archenland hospitality. He asks for a tour of the realm, which Lune is happy to arrange.
They ride the countryside, climb mountains, visit the silver mines and the goat farms, tour the shipyards and the port.
Peter's knowledge of Archenland (names, geography, elements of the culture) is an uncomfortable shock. (He has already heard rumors from the Governor of the Lone Islands that the Narnians are kind, honorable, and surprisingly informed.)
"You know much of my kingdom, High King," he says after Peter kindly corrects their guide's directions for the third time.
The young king gives him an embarrassed smile. "I have been studying the ancient records for some time now; I like to be prepared."
Century old records are one thing; Lune wonders how much Peter actually knows. Wonders if Narnia knows how it was during the reign of the Witch - the shield of ice, the barriers, her guards who kept all within from crossing over, and all from outside from crossing inward. Wonders if Narnia knows of the armed forts throughout the mountains and valleys of the land, readied for invasion from the ice or desert.
("We may be a small land," he had told the Tisroc once, his lips curved in an assured smile. "But we have teeth.")
Peter offers his hand to Lune. "The historical records tell me that Archenland and Narnia have been friends time out of mind." His young face is, at least, honest.
Lune reaches out and grips the offered hand firmly.
*
The Narnian report lies on his desk the next morning. The High Lord Chancellor's misuse of state funds is explained and detailed in even handwriting; and it checks out against the hidden records tucked into Bar's chambers.
Lune wonders.
*
He reads the Calormen script aloud:
"To our royal cousin, Lune, King over Archenland:
In the name of Tash, the irresistible, the inexorable, many felicitations upon the birth of your sons. Honor and glory follow the birth of a male heir, so you and your northern lands are more than doubly blessed. May the gift that accompanies this letter please your eyes and honor your houses.
I commit you and yours to the gods."
"What did the Tisroc, may he live until one of his sons kills him in his sleep, send me then?" his queen says sleepily, cradling Cor close. Fed and gurgling softly, Corin lies nearby in a cradle.
Lune smiles, leans in close to press a kiss to her cheek. "Rich spices, black tea, and a blanket lined with golden thread."
She gives out an unqueenly groan. "My love, I will have a cup of Calormen tea, and I will have it now."
"To hear is to obey," he murmurs, stealing another kiss.
*
Queen Lucy visits first, her arms full of an ancient tome and her eyes full of excitement. She shows them their history in the yellowed pages. It has been hundreds of years since a prince or princess of Archenland has been blessed by a Narnian centaur - a tradition forgotten in the Archenland records - and Narnia would be honored for the tradition to being anew.
The parade from Anvard, crossing the mountain pass, traveling through the woods, to the centaur's fields, is joyous. Music plays, and the bright banners of both lands flutter in the breeze. Cor and Corin are cradled with care, and his queen laughs with Lucy at her side. Peter and Susan walk on either side of Lune while Edmund handles the arrangements with the wise centaurs.
At twilight, the eldest of the centaurs, austere and undecorated, takes Corin first. His words are gently spoken, and Lune smiles to hear of his son's honor and future bravery. The centaur then takes his eldest son, and holds him up to the sky. A chill creeps down his spine as the centaur lowers the child, his wizened face full of concern, and he places the baby back into his mother's arms.
"A day will come when that boy will save Archenland from the deadliest danger in which she ever lay," the centaur states.
His queen gapes for a moment, and then smiles. "Thank you, honored one," she tells him and then looks to Lune, her eyes glowing like a child. His heart catches in his chest with pride, with delight. "Our son!" she says.
The centaur looks away.
*
The sea battle is half over by the time the Narnian galleon arrives to the aid of Archenland, to rescue the stolen prince, to bring the might of their timeless alliance against all that would dare challenge them. The faces of her sailors are fierce, but none as fierce as Queen Lucy. "For Archenland!" is their shout, and the enemy ship cries out in terror. (Eagles had been dispatched from Anvard upon the news of Bar's treachery; and Cair Paravel's reaction was swift).
Lune barely notices, his blood is all fire and brimstone, and his arm is strong. His enemies fall before him.
The battle ends in flame and agony. Bar has been dead for hours; the crown prince of Archenland long disappeared into the waves.
*
Corin is six when he catches Galman fever. He wails and sweats and groans for days. The fever spreads throughout the land, and the healers are at a loss. His minister of health works hard to contain the illness, and Narnian beasts - immune to the disease - are dispatched throughout the lands to nurse the people back to health.
On the fifth week, Corin’s fever breaks, and as his queen cries out in her joy, she begins to cough.
*
All four of Narnia’s sovereigns attend the funeral, hands clasped together.
Afterwards, Lune finds Corin asleep in Susan's arms. He leaves them be, and goes in search of a fast horse, the ache in his belly threatening to overtake him.
*
His queen had often told him to beware a prince in love. ("I remember what feats you did, what rules you broke, what big grown men you knocked down for some wisp of a pretty girl," she had told him. "Our sons will be the same, so be wary, be watchful!")
Corin's face is earnest and alight with rapture: "Queen Susan is my favorite person. She's so clever and gentle - did you know she can shoot an apple out of a tree leagues away? May I marry her at once?"
Lune smiles and leans in conspiratorially. "I have it on very good authority that she thinks the world of you; but I do not think the High King would approve of his sister marrying you at your age."
He screws up his ten-year-old face into a pout. "She told me that she can decide who she marries. Peter doesn't have-"
"The High King Peter," Lune interrupts.
"The High King Peter doesn't have any say," Corin finishes.
Lune chuckles. "Well, then. I give you my permission to ask her to marry you."
Corin suddenly looks pale, and he covers his face with his hands. "Oh, I couldn't, I couldn't, by the Lion's mane, I'd be too shamed to even mention it to her. What if she refused me! Oh!"
Hiding a smile, Lune holds out his arms to his son. Corin bites his lip to keep from blubbering further and leans into his father's embrace. "I'm a fool," the prince of Archenland says.
Lune pats his back. "Nay, my son, the Queen Susan has a bewitching effect on the princes of many lands. You are not the first, and you will not be the last."
*
Cair Paravel is a blaze of light and full of color and music when Rabadash's envoy arrives. Already in attendance at the Narnian court, Lune sits at the High King's side when the Calormen ambassador approaches. Curious, Lune watches as the ambassador gives honor to both Narnia and Archenland, but he only speaks to the High King, his words never directed at Edmund or the queens. The concept of two brothers and two sisters ruling a rich and expansive land on an equal basis is hard and confusing on the Calormen mind, Lune thinks.
A few days later, the prince himself arrives, dressed like a Northerner, his dark curls free from oil and his fingers absent of most of his royal rings. Unlike his ambassador, Rabadash is attentive to all four Narnian sovereigns, and his words are smooth and simple.
He wonders at the prince's motives until he sees the future Tisroc kiss Susan’s fingers and dance with her in the Narnian style at the banquet. The queen smiles at the prince and it’s a smile that Lune does not know, does not recognize on her gentle face. She is older than he remembers, and that is not the look of a queen, but of a young woman with a singular goal in mind.
Lune looks over at Edmund whose expression is incredulous.
"She is smitten,” he tells Edmund frankly (faun wine loosens his tongue; Edmund, he knows, takes advantage of this fact).
Casually sitting in his chair, Edmund chuckles. “She appears to be so. This is a first."
Lune looks to Peter who is decidedly looking away from the dance floor, deep in conversation with a Calormen general. They appear to be discussing giants, as they gesture wildly of impossibly tall foes.
"What shall we do with this?” Edmund says, refilling both of their cups. "We can't have that snake marrying our royal sister, can we?"
Shaking his head, and clicking his tongue against his teeth, Lune stands. He approaches the couple at the last strains of the song with one hand outstretched. “Shall Archenland steal from Calormen the most beautiful jewel in the room?”
Rabadash nods his head low as he moves away, but his smile is tight.
“You’re interrupting,” Susan murmurs as they dance.
"Nay, dear friend, I'm dancing," he replies. He waits a moment before: "You should visit Tashbaan, see what it's like. Calormen is a different land."
She smiles with mischief in her eyes. "I've never been."
Lune mirrors her smile. He hates Calormen more than he hates anything. "Take Corin with you," he says.
Susan stops dancing. "That is very kind of you," she says, and her eyes shine.
*
“Corin, my son. Protect the Narnian queen at all costs."
The boy looks up at him, grave and somber. “By my honor, by my life, by everything I have. The queen will be safe with me at her side.”
Lune feels only slightly comforted.
*
He misses his wife, he misses his son, and spends his days hunting and riding with his courtiers and friends. They laugh and they are merry. But her face lingers in his mind.
A boy tumbles out of the forest, hot from running fast, and he stumbles over words, crying out for the king to hear him.
Lune sees the boy's face, sees her, and feels a tightness in his chest that has nothing to do with the news that Archenland is to be invaded at any moment.
His son Corin is all swagger; this boy is awkward, and his accent Calormen. This boy is his mother's son, with eyes so earnest and his shoulders set in confidence. This boy cannot be, he thinks.
(When they close the castle gates at Anvard, he searches for the boy, wildly. Not finding him, he closes his eyes, and leans against a wall, the stones cooling his flushed face. His eldest son saving Archenland from the deadliest of dangers, nothing but a phantom.)
*
The walls tremble from the battering ram, from the thunder of hooves and cries of foreign soldiers, but Anvard does not fall.
As Rabadash is taken away, Edmund clasps Lune’s hand tight. “Well fought, your majesty.” His eyes still glint with rage; being merciful to your sister’s would-be abductor is a difficult task.
“Same to you, sir. Archenland is grateful again for your aid,” Lune says, still winded.
The young king smiles grimly at him and turns to seek out the Queen Lucy among the archers, her healing cordial tightly held in her hand. Lune watches him push through the swiftly moving soldiers, carrying out their post-battle duties. His lands are safe, the honor of Narnia’s queen is protected, and his son- his son-
Moving as if in a dream, he seeks the familiar face and finds its mirror.
Cor, his arm bleeding and his face tear streaked, sits on his broken shield. He looks up at the king and grimaces in embarrassment.
Lune's heart beats hard and fast like a lion's in his chest.
*
A month passes, and a banquet is held at Cair Paravel for the lost prince and the lady Aravis (Lucy's fast friend and new confidant). His son looks shy and delighted, eager and terrified.
"He'll make a great king," Susan tells him in his ear. As he looks at her, a smile on his lips in thanks, he notes that she's paler than normal.
"Your advice was good," she says, and her hand settles on his. "Visiting Tashbaan, it was important."
Her eyes are older, he thinks. He squeezes her hand.
They watch Cor and Aravis dance in the Calormen style, and they laugh together as Lucy and Mr. Tumnus join them, eager to learn new steps.
"Dance with me, my old friend," she asks him.
"As you wish," he replies.
*
The news arrives fast on the western wind.
- They're gone. Our kings and queens are gone.
- They've disappeared, they're gone forever.
- The Telmar threat is becoming serious, and what will Tashbaan do?
It has been over 15 years since Archenland bordered such an honorable and strange friend. Lune is unsure what comes next.
Fandom: Narnia
Written for and cross posted at: narniaexchange Fall 2009
Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: General book spoilers (HHB, etc)
Summary: The tragic life of Lune, King of Archenland.
AN: Thanks to sloanesomething for the thumbs up and pwincess for the beta.
The news arrives fast on the northern wind.
- The ice is melting, my king.
- Her barriers are falling, her guardsmen have vanished.
- The witch is dead! Unknown conquerors have taken the throne.
It has been over a hundred years since Archenland bordered a friendly neighbor. Lune is unsure what comes next.
*
They are mere children, his spies report. But Aslan’s light is ever upon them.
"Send them gifts," his queen tells him. To the kings, they send gold and gems; to the queens, they send elegant finery; to the realm, they send ambassadors and invitations.
*
Almost adults in miniature, the eldest queen and youngest king of Narnia arrive midday. Their retinue is a host of talking animals and cheerful looking dwarfs. Lune bows to them low, and his queen curtsies elegantly, despite her growing belly.
In response, the Narnian rulers give a courtly bow, hand in hand. "Narnia greets her esteemed neighbor," the king says.
Intrigued by their formality, Lune replies, "Archenland bids you heartily welcome."
The raved-haired queen reaches out her hand to him, and he takes it. "I am Susan, and this is my brother, Edmund. The High King Peter and my youngest sister, Lucy, send their regards." He searches her eyes and is impressed with the surety in which this girlchild faces matters of state.
She turns to his queen, her eyes suddenly sparkling. "You are expecting soon?," she asks politely.
His queen chuckles. "Nay, your majesty, not for some time yet. I have been blessed with twins."
Susan's eyes widen, and her cheeks grow pink, before she checks herself. "You are blessed indeed," she replies.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lune spies Edmund's lips twinge.
He is reminded that despite their manner, despite their dress, despite their titles, they are but children.
*
After a day of verbally sparring with Susan, and watching Edmund battle his bravest knights, Lune changes his mind.
*
Moonlight shines through the window as Lune reviews the new trade agreements. Narnia's ports have opened and the trading world adjusts. A smile remains on his face, as he reads the words; his feet still ache from dancing. Narnians live up to their reputation - they are a merry people, he thinks.
"They're gone," Bar says, entering. "At last."
Lune despises the Lord Chancellor, but Bar's family has been faithful and true to Archenland for centuries. He's harmless, Lune tells himself.
"The queen finds them charming," he replies.
Bar sniffs and moves to sit next to him, a goblet of wine in his hand. "Of course, they are children," he says. "Very charming."
"History tells us that Narnia has always been a most respectful sister country," Lune replies. "Our borders will be safe; trading will expand, markets will grow."
"Do you think they will also visit the Tisroc?" Bar asks after a long moment.
Lune looks up from his orders to catch a fleeting, hungry look on Bar's face. Strange, unusual man, he thinks. "If they wish to trade, they will."
"Calormen will eat them alive."
Leaning back in his chair, he shakes his head. "You forget, sir. These children defeated the White Witch, brought Narnia out of icy darkness and evil sorcery. They are more formidable than they appear."
*
The High King visits the following month, his words full of gratitude for Archenland hospitality. He asks for a tour of the realm, which Lune is happy to arrange.
They ride the countryside, climb mountains, visit the silver mines and the goat farms, tour the shipyards and the port.
Peter's knowledge of Archenland (names, geography, elements of the culture) is an uncomfortable shock. (He has already heard rumors from the Governor of the Lone Islands that the Narnians are kind, honorable, and surprisingly informed.)
"You know much of my kingdom, High King," he says after Peter kindly corrects their guide's directions for the third time.
The young king gives him an embarrassed smile. "I have been studying the ancient records for some time now; I like to be prepared."
Century old records are one thing; Lune wonders how much Peter actually knows. Wonders if Narnia knows how it was during the reign of the Witch - the shield of ice, the barriers, her guards who kept all within from crossing over, and all from outside from crossing inward. Wonders if Narnia knows of the armed forts throughout the mountains and valleys of the land, readied for invasion from the ice or desert.
("We may be a small land," he had told the Tisroc once, his lips curved in an assured smile. "But we have teeth.")
Peter offers his hand to Lune. "The historical records tell me that Archenland and Narnia have been friends time out of mind." His young face is, at least, honest.
Lune reaches out and grips the offered hand firmly.
*
The Narnian report lies on his desk the next morning. The High Lord Chancellor's misuse of state funds is explained and detailed in even handwriting; and it checks out against the hidden records tucked into Bar's chambers.
Lune wonders.
*
He reads the Calormen script aloud:
"To our royal cousin, Lune, King over Archenland:
In the name of Tash, the irresistible, the inexorable, many felicitations upon the birth of your sons. Honor and glory follow the birth of a male heir, so you and your northern lands are more than doubly blessed. May the gift that accompanies this letter please your eyes and honor your houses.
I commit you and yours to the gods."
"What did the Tisroc, may he live until one of his sons kills him in his sleep, send me then?" his queen says sleepily, cradling Cor close. Fed and gurgling softly, Corin lies nearby in a cradle.
Lune smiles, leans in close to press a kiss to her cheek. "Rich spices, black tea, and a blanket lined with golden thread."
She gives out an unqueenly groan. "My love, I will have a cup of Calormen tea, and I will have it now."
"To hear is to obey," he murmurs, stealing another kiss.
*
Queen Lucy visits first, her arms full of an ancient tome and her eyes full of excitement. She shows them their history in the yellowed pages. It has been hundreds of years since a prince or princess of Archenland has been blessed by a Narnian centaur - a tradition forgotten in the Archenland records - and Narnia would be honored for the tradition to being anew.
The parade from Anvard, crossing the mountain pass, traveling through the woods, to the centaur's fields, is joyous. Music plays, and the bright banners of both lands flutter in the breeze. Cor and Corin are cradled with care, and his queen laughs with Lucy at her side. Peter and Susan walk on either side of Lune while Edmund handles the arrangements with the wise centaurs.
At twilight, the eldest of the centaurs, austere and undecorated, takes Corin first. His words are gently spoken, and Lune smiles to hear of his son's honor and future bravery. The centaur then takes his eldest son, and holds him up to the sky. A chill creeps down his spine as the centaur lowers the child, his wizened face full of concern, and he places the baby back into his mother's arms.
"A day will come when that boy will save Archenland from the deadliest danger in which she ever lay," the centaur states.
His queen gapes for a moment, and then smiles. "Thank you, honored one," she tells him and then looks to Lune, her eyes glowing like a child. His heart catches in his chest with pride, with delight. "Our son!" she says.
The centaur looks away.
*
The sea battle is half over by the time the Narnian galleon arrives to the aid of Archenland, to rescue the stolen prince, to bring the might of their timeless alliance against all that would dare challenge them. The faces of her sailors are fierce, but none as fierce as Queen Lucy. "For Archenland!" is their shout, and the enemy ship cries out in terror. (Eagles had been dispatched from Anvard upon the news of Bar's treachery; and Cair Paravel's reaction was swift).
Lune barely notices, his blood is all fire and brimstone, and his arm is strong. His enemies fall before him.
The battle ends in flame and agony. Bar has been dead for hours; the crown prince of Archenland long disappeared into the waves.
*
Corin is six when he catches Galman fever. He wails and sweats and groans for days. The fever spreads throughout the land, and the healers are at a loss. His minister of health works hard to contain the illness, and Narnian beasts - immune to the disease - are dispatched throughout the lands to nurse the people back to health.
On the fifth week, Corin’s fever breaks, and as his queen cries out in her joy, she begins to cough.
*
All four of Narnia’s sovereigns attend the funeral, hands clasped together.
Afterwards, Lune finds Corin asleep in Susan's arms. He leaves them be, and goes in search of a fast horse, the ache in his belly threatening to overtake him.
*
His queen had often told him to beware a prince in love. ("I remember what feats you did, what rules you broke, what big grown men you knocked down for some wisp of a pretty girl," she had told him. "Our sons will be the same, so be wary, be watchful!")
Corin's face is earnest and alight with rapture: "Queen Susan is my favorite person. She's so clever and gentle - did you know she can shoot an apple out of a tree leagues away? May I marry her at once?"
Lune smiles and leans in conspiratorially. "I have it on very good authority that she thinks the world of you; but I do not think the High King would approve of his sister marrying you at your age."
He screws up his ten-year-old face into a pout. "She told me that she can decide who she marries. Peter doesn't have-"
"The High King Peter," Lune interrupts.
"The High King Peter doesn't have any say," Corin finishes.
Lune chuckles. "Well, then. I give you my permission to ask her to marry you."
Corin suddenly looks pale, and he covers his face with his hands. "Oh, I couldn't, I couldn't, by the Lion's mane, I'd be too shamed to even mention it to her. What if she refused me! Oh!"
Hiding a smile, Lune holds out his arms to his son. Corin bites his lip to keep from blubbering further and leans into his father's embrace. "I'm a fool," the prince of Archenland says.
Lune pats his back. "Nay, my son, the Queen Susan has a bewitching effect on the princes of many lands. You are not the first, and you will not be the last."
*
Cair Paravel is a blaze of light and full of color and music when Rabadash's envoy arrives. Already in attendance at the Narnian court, Lune sits at the High King's side when the Calormen ambassador approaches. Curious, Lune watches as the ambassador gives honor to both Narnia and Archenland, but he only speaks to the High King, his words never directed at Edmund or the queens. The concept of two brothers and two sisters ruling a rich and expansive land on an equal basis is hard and confusing on the Calormen mind, Lune thinks.
A few days later, the prince himself arrives, dressed like a Northerner, his dark curls free from oil and his fingers absent of most of his royal rings. Unlike his ambassador, Rabadash is attentive to all four Narnian sovereigns, and his words are smooth and simple.
He wonders at the prince's motives until he sees the future Tisroc kiss Susan’s fingers and dance with her in the Narnian style at the banquet. The queen smiles at the prince and it’s a smile that Lune does not know, does not recognize on her gentle face. She is older than he remembers, and that is not the look of a queen, but of a young woman with a singular goal in mind.
Lune looks over at Edmund whose expression is incredulous.
"She is smitten,” he tells Edmund frankly (faun wine loosens his tongue; Edmund, he knows, takes advantage of this fact).
Casually sitting in his chair, Edmund chuckles. “She appears to be so. This is a first."
Lune looks to Peter who is decidedly looking away from the dance floor, deep in conversation with a Calormen general. They appear to be discussing giants, as they gesture wildly of impossibly tall foes.
"What shall we do with this?” Edmund says, refilling both of their cups. "We can't have that snake marrying our royal sister, can we?"
Shaking his head, and clicking his tongue against his teeth, Lune stands. He approaches the couple at the last strains of the song with one hand outstretched. “Shall Archenland steal from Calormen the most beautiful jewel in the room?”
Rabadash nods his head low as he moves away, but his smile is tight.
“You’re interrupting,” Susan murmurs as they dance.
"Nay, dear friend, I'm dancing," he replies. He waits a moment before: "You should visit Tashbaan, see what it's like. Calormen is a different land."
She smiles with mischief in her eyes. "I've never been."
Lune mirrors her smile. He hates Calormen more than he hates anything. "Take Corin with you," he says.
Susan stops dancing. "That is very kind of you," she says, and her eyes shine.
*
“Corin, my son. Protect the Narnian queen at all costs."
The boy looks up at him, grave and somber. “By my honor, by my life, by everything I have. The queen will be safe with me at her side.”
Lune feels only slightly comforted.
*
He misses his wife, he misses his son, and spends his days hunting and riding with his courtiers and friends. They laugh and they are merry. But her face lingers in his mind.
A boy tumbles out of the forest, hot from running fast, and he stumbles over words, crying out for the king to hear him.
Lune sees the boy's face, sees her, and feels a tightness in his chest that has nothing to do with the news that Archenland is to be invaded at any moment.
His son Corin is all swagger; this boy is awkward, and his accent Calormen. This boy is his mother's son, with eyes so earnest and his shoulders set in confidence. This boy cannot be, he thinks.
(When they close the castle gates at Anvard, he searches for the boy, wildly. Not finding him, he closes his eyes, and leans against a wall, the stones cooling his flushed face. His eldest son saving Archenland from the deadliest of dangers, nothing but a phantom.)
*
The walls tremble from the battering ram, from the thunder of hooves and cries of foreign soldiers, but Anvard does not fall.
As Rabadash is taken away, Edmund clasps Lune’s hand tight. “Well fought, your majesty.” His eyes still glint with rage; being merciful to your sister’s would-be abductor is a difficult task.
“Same to you, sir. Archenland is grateful again for your aid,” Lune says, still winded.
The young king smiles grimly at him and turns to seek out the Queen Lucy among the archers, her healing cordial tightly held in her hand. Lune watches him push through the swiftly moving soldiers, carrying out their post-battle duties. His lands are safe, the honor of Narnia’s queen is protected, and his son- his son-
Moving as if in a dream, he seeks the familiar face and finds its mirror.
Cor, his arm bleeding and his face tear streaked, sits on his broken shield. He looks up at the king and grimaces in embarrassment.
Lune's heart beats hard and fast like a lion's in his chest.
*
A month passes, and a banquet is held at Cair Paravel for the lost prince and the lady Aravis (Lucy's fast friend and new confidant). His son looks shy and delighted, eager and terrified.
"He'll make a great king," Susan tells him in his ear. As he looks at her, a smile on his lips in thanks, he notes that she's paler than normal.
"Your advice was good," she says, and her hand settles on his. "Visiting Tashbaan, it was important."
Her eyes are older, he thinks. He squeezes her hand.
They watch Cor and Aravis dance in the Calormen style, and they laugh together as Lucy and Mr. Tumnus join them, eager to learn new steps.
"Dance with me, my old friend," she asks him.
"As you wish," he replies.
*
The news arrives fast on the western wind.
- They're gone. Our kings and queens are gone.
- They've disappeared, they're gone forever.
- The Telmar threat is becoming serious, and what will Tashbaan do?
It has been over 15 years since Archenland bordered such an honorable and strange friend. Lune is unsure what comes next.