Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Sorrow untold, unexpressed, but felt more deeply than any other. What will it take to mend?

A/N: This story is part of my A Light in the Darkness universe. Enjoy!

Sorrow Untold

Part One

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5 Fairdawn 1011

How do I fix this, Aslan? How can I help her? Those were the questions that echoed in my mind and through my heart as I watched over my wife. She was a shadow of herself now. She had been since it happened. I could not blame her but neither could I find a way to help her, ease her pain and that was the failing I struggled with the most. She had pulled away from me, had done so since it happened. I knew I should give her as much time as she needed but I hated to see her in such pain.

Leaning down, I pulled the coverlet over her then rested my hand lightly on her shoulder. She didn't stir nor did the contact ease the furrow marring her brow. Oh Aslan, help her, help us. Four weeks ago, I had never imagined this would have happened. My mind recalled that evening in perfect detail . . .

Gazing down at my beloved, I was confident the best part of returning from a patrol was when I was finally able to hold her close again. I brushed my lips over hers in a fleeting kiss then nuzzled her cheek, rumbling, "I missed being able to hold you, my love."

"And I missed you." She kissed me again and then rose on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "I am with child."

For a moment, I could hardly believe what she had told me. Easing my hold on her, I drew back and stared down at her. "You are?" She smiled at me. My wife . . . was with child. Breaking the embrace, I stepped back and stared at her stomach. She did not look any different from how she had when I left on patrol three weeks ago. I swallowed hard. "When?"

"Winter." Her eyes shone as she added, "I am in the second month now."

Those were the words that caused my heart to constrict with joy and drove me to my knees. Kneeling before her, I gently rested a hand against her stomach. "Winter . . . Our child." I could hardly believe that this was happening so soon. Less than two full years of marriage and we were to have a little one. I placed my other hand against her stomach. "Our child. Praise Aslan, our child." Wrapping my hands around her waist, I tugged gently until she stepped a little closer and then I pressed a kiss to her stomach.

Looking up at her, I surged to my hooves and then wrapped my arms around her. She smiled and murmured, "Our child."

I clasped her close, lifting her off her feet, and pressed my face against her hair, inhaling the cinnamon scent of her hair rinse. "Our child." Our own little foal. Aslan be praised, our own little colt or filly. Then I remembered how fragile expectant mothers were and there was the foal to consider as well. I loosened my grip and then set my wife down as gently as I could. I caught a glimpse of the waterclock then looked back at her. "You should rest. Our little one will need you to be well rested." I looked her over nervously, fearing my joy had overridden the need to be gentle with her. "Did I hurt you or the child? I should not have held you so tightly."

She laughed, shaking her head, as she took my hands again. "Oreius, you haven't hurt me or the baby. And you aren't going to break either one of us with a hug and a kiss."

I raised an eyebrow, uncertain of whether I could believe her. But I could not resist resting my hand on her stomach again. "I do not want to hurt you. Either of you."

Alambiel rested her hand on top of mine, smiling and eyes shining with a new joy. "You're not going to, Chuisle. You're going to be a wonderful da." She yawned suddenly and I was again reminded of the lateness of the hour. My wife tugged at my hands. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"I do not know if I should."

She gave me a look. "Oreius, you aren't going to hurt us by sharing the bed. And I sleep better when you are with me. Come on."

In the end, it had taken very little coaxing for me to join her. I prayed for her and the foal through the night and in my excitement, in my joy I allowed myself to murmur to the little one. I explained about Aslan and how much we loved it already and how eager I was to learn whether the foal would be a colt or a filly. For one week, Alambiel and I dreamed of our foal, of what it would be like as the little one grew within its dam and when it was born. For one wonderful week, I celebrated that I was a sire. I had not expected a foal to come so soon. It was well known that Centaurs often did not begin their herds until after several years of marriage and it often took longer when it was a union between Centaur and Nymph. But now we were to be blessed with a little foal before our third anniversary.

Alambiel's morning sickness had been extremely severe, though. And I did feel guilty that I could not do anything to help alleviate it. She was miserable but she still managed to smile and to dream. Only another month she assured me and then she should be far enough along into the pregnancy that the bouts of illness would ease. But then everything changed. Alambiel had been so ill the night before that the only reason I went to the meeting with the Royals and a number of diplomats, including three Tarkaans, was that it was one the General needed to be present at. The Tarkaans insisted the meeting room be kept sealed unless a true crisis of state occur and we had been forced to agree for diplomacy's sake.

I should have allowed Ardon to take my place. I should have remained with Alambiel. I took a breath that was shakier than I ever would have admitted as I recalled the worst of it. Alambiel had lost the foal but the worst was that she had been alone when it happened. At the time, very few in Cair Paravel knew that we had been expecting an addition to our little herd. Tuulea and Alithia. Leeta had begun to suspect but had said nothing according to Alambiel. But none of them had been there when Alambiel felt the pains. It was not until some passing Beasts had caught the distinctive scent of blood that they realized something was wrong and listened closely enough to hear Alambiel's weak cry for help.

My heart constricted as I recalled the grim report from Tanith. She had been the junior healer available when help was sought. Both Tuulea and Alithia had been away from the Cair. Ptah had also been away visiting family. Two Humming Birds tasked with summoning Queen Lucy and myself intruded on the meeting with the Tarkaans. Alambiel had almost died from the blood loss. The tea she had taken earlier that day to help her sleep and to ease the nausea had compounded the situation with the miscarriage and I had almost lost her as well as our foal, our little colt. I rested my hand against Alambiel's shoulder again, reassuring myself that I had not lost her too, and she sighed a little but did not wake.

Alambiel had been listless since the day after the miscarriage when she had awakened to learn the events she had hoped were nothing more than a nightmare easily banished were indeed the new truth of our lives. The only time she had stirred was when she heard me discussing the burial with Tuulea. It was also the only time I had seen the raw pain in her eyes before the emotion was shuttered away. I hung my head as I recalled again the way the sky had opened with an unlooked for spring shower as the tiny colt was buried and a stone plaque bearing his name had been set up as if nature also grieved the loss of an innocent. My Amatus, my little son.

The weight on my shoulders seemed to grow as grief reared its head once more. I reminded myself that Amatus was with Aslan. We would not have the opportunity to see him become a stallion or even draw his first breath but he was with Aslan and he would never feel pain or sorrow or any of the evil things that marred our world. In time, I believed, the reminder would bring true comfort. For now, the wound was raw. But I feared Alambiel's ran deeper. She was refusing to allow herself to grieve. She needed to grieve.

Aslan, how do I help her?

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Ahem, well, I don't have much to say. There's more to come. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.