The women always started the courtship dance. Bother the Northern customs, bother whatever his father had to say on the matter.
They decided when they were ready. When it was time to don their bells and go dancing. It was how it worked in Calormen. No matter how terrible or wonderful the union was, the women were granted this right. To choose for once in their lives.
Cor remembered how the dance went. The woman started it. With the aid of dances and flowers, she invited a man to take the initiative. To try and claim her as his. Depending on how ostentatious the dance determined how the man should respond. (Or men, depending on how eligible the young woman was.)
He wasn't surprised when the castle was covered with flowers of every hue and shape. Mostly Calormen. He was even less surprised when Aravis invited Calormen dancers to entertain the court. They moved slowly, with their clothing and movement designed to invoke a sensual feeling.
When King Lune attempted to question her on what she meant by all this, she only smiled mysteriously. That gave him his first clue to the setup. The fact that she asked others to dance for her suggested a clandestine courtship. Only those familiar with Calormen would recognize this as part of the dance. She had given him an exclusive right to her hand if he chose to take it.
The second clue was that she wanted to be courted like women in her culture. No speedy romance common with the North. She wanted to be courted slowly, in a way that invoked all their senses and emotions. And he was willing to give it to her.
The next step of the dance was to voice his suit. This was accomplished through various forms depending on how the woman had initiated the dance. Aravis's request required gifts.
A week after the dance, various parcels arrived for Aravis. They contained oils and other feminine trinkets that was mandated by the rules of the dance. They could only be purchased in Calormen. And buried underneath it all was the traditional Calormen courtship garb.
Corin teased Aravis about a mysterious lover. To Cor he hinted about 'hurrying it up before someone steals your girl'. Cor held his tongue. Any retort would either end up with him getting knocked down or the dance exposed too early. He didn't want either to happen.
He'd sent his invitation. She had two options. To either refuse his gift-and in turn, his suit would be lost forever- or to wear his gifts and prepare for the next phase of the courtship.
He discovered his answer in the morning light. He'd just finished a round of sword fighting with his brother, both hot and sweaty. Corin was sulking,(he lost that match,) and had left to complete the losers duty of cleaning the swords. Cor was preparing to leave the circle himself when a familiar scent accosted his nose.
Calormen musk. Exotic flowers and spices boiled down to create that smell that he associated with Calormen women. He turned around.
A Tarkheena was swaying towards him. Blue fabric weaved around her body in the way Calormen fashion dictated, bells jangling around her ankles.
The Tarkheena lowered her eyes as she got closer. It took him a second to recognize her. She looked like a Queen out of some Calormen storybook. Nothing like normal Aravis the Lady.
She smelled heady. Like wine, her scent clouded his judgment. He resisted the urge to sweep her up in his arms. She raised her eyes to him and he sucked in his breath. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl and powder, beckoning him closer.
"Aravis," He whispered.
"I am going to the King to complete the next step. You know where to find me." She brushed past him, hitting his nose head on with her scent.
Corin came out and stopped, staring as Aravis glided past him. He whistled. "By the Lion Cor."
"Shut up." Cor spun on his heel and stalked towards the stables. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his brother right then. Instead, he focused on the exchange in the throne room. He could see her now, gliding up to his father's throne. The room would fall silent at the sight of a Tarkheena in their midst.
. . . . .
"Adoptive Father," Aravis said. "Grant me permission to go into the woods for a few days."
"You don't need my permission to leave, my daughter." He replied, mimicking her tongue.
"This is part of the courtship dance. It is required by law for the standing guardian of the woman participating to grant her safe passage. This keeps other men from breaking the dance and stealing the girl."
The courtroom buzzed with noise. When in heaven's name did that Tarkheena enter a courtship dance? King Lune raised his eyebrows. "When did this start?" He asked.
He sounded bewildered. Aravis smiled serenely. She heard the unasked question lingering in the air. Who is he? Poor King Lune had no idea that his son knew about the dances.
"Please, Father. You shall meet my husband when I return."
"Husband!"
"That is what is left to complete of the dance." She answered. "I began the dance and he responded with gifts."
She gestured down at herself. "When I accepted his gift, I accepted his suit. Our union must be completed in a weeks time or a blood feud shall be invoked."
She'd never seen King Lune speechless before. He struggled to find an appropriate response to her words. "Why, that is wonderful Aravis. But is it a legal union?"
She met his eyes. "We swear by Aslan himself."
. . . . .
Cor gave her a day to herself in the wood. It was customary for the Calormen woman to pray before marriage. Their last day of freedom before a lifetime with either a tyrant or the man they loved. Then he saddled a dumb horse and rode to the appointed place.
He found her waiting under a tree, her veil in place. He wasted no time in dismounting and closing the distance between them.
They spoke their vows quietly, allowing the wind to carry their voices for them. There was no need for formality. It was just them. The Crown Prince and the Tarkheena. Prince Cor and Lady Aravis. Shasta and Aravis.
He threw back her veil and kissed her.
By the Lions Mane, she was worth the wait.
They lingered in the wood for as long as they could. Reveling in just each others company. No rules, no one else to judge them.
They arrived back in court without fanfare. Hand in hand, they slip into the throne room. It's Corin and King Lune who are the first to greet them, to understand the full implications of their return.
Cor held up her hand. "I present to you, Queen Aravis."
The women start a courtship dance. It is a union that ends it.
I was inspired to write this chapter and collection after reading 'The Courting Dance' by Elizabeth Culmer. So if you liked this chapter, you should definitely go check out her work.
Like right now. Go on, I can wait.
You back? Good. I hoped you enjoyed this fic and that one. :)
Hope you have a lovely day! :)