Sweet Fire

by astrogirl23

A/n: Here's the latest installment for you guys… Hope you'll enjoy!

Note: This story shows how I interpreted/ daydreamed how Aravis and Cor's courtship occurred, by the way. Sorry if some were confused. XD

PS: This is the edited version. Please let me know what you think of it.


Chapter 2: Apples and Archers


Aravis was dangerous when she was at the brink of expiring from boredom. She rang for a servant (who took one look at her mistress's face and turned pale with fright) and ordered her to bring forth any walking stick she could find. The girl returned a few moments later carrying a long wooden cane which she said she had borrowed from one of the old tenants in the castle.

Suddenly excited, Aravis quickly washed her face, slipped on the armor she used to wear before (it was rather snug-fitting now especially at the chest part), which had been her brother's, and tied her long ebony hair into a ponytail. She slipped on one boot and left the bandaged one bare; finally she grabbed the cane she borrowed and hobbled out of the room.

Many guests for her party had already arrived; she carefully slipped through the kitchen doors where only the servants saw her; as quickly as she could she headed to the court where the knights practiced archery.

"Lady Tarkheena, what in Aslan's name are you doing here?" the bewildered High King Peter asked when he saw the girl slip into the gate. The girl froze for a moment, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar before lunch, then gave him a dazzling smile.

"Your Highness, you have arrived!" she said joyfully, about to run towards the king but stopped as she felt the pain in her ankle once more.

"What has happened to your foot, my dear?" asked the king in concern, rushing towards the girl.

"She tripped over a tree root," answered a voice behind Aravis. She whipped her head and saw Cor's smirking face right at her back. She blushed when she heard a snort of suppressed laughter from the High King.

"You wouldn't let that rest, would you?" she snapped at the prince of Archenland with a fierce glare. So this was his retaliation for pulling a few strands from his golden mane! Cor only shrugged and turned to King Peter. "How are you, my friend?" Cor asked, all seriousness now.

"I'm very well, but isn't it me who is supposed to ask how you've been faring?" the High King was referring to the bruise on Cor's jaw, which Aravis had just noticed.

"Had a one-on-one with Corin, and he beat me to a pulp," Cor said without any hint of embarrassment; in fact, he rather sounded proud for his brother.

Unconsciously Aravis found herself reaching out to touch the bruise on the young prince's face. She saw Cor's eyes widen for a moment, but then she herself was surprised by her bold action.

Just as Cor was about to open his mouth to speak, Aravis thought he was going to yell out for the whole courtyard to hear that she was finally falling for his charms, and to stop him, she pinched on his bruised jaw.

"Ow!" Cor howled in pain, swatting Aravis' hand away as he clutched his injured face. "Why'd you do that, you brat?" he demanded.

"I just wanted to check if you just painted it on your face," Aravis said.

"And why would I paint a fake bruise on my face?"

Aravis pretended to think for a moment. "So you would gain my attention, since I had snubbed you the whole afternoon," she answered with an impish smile on her face.

"Hey! It was I who was snubbing you the whole afternoon, not the other way around," Cor shot back. Then suddenly a devilish smile crossed his face. "Maybe that's why you sneaked out of your room! You wanted to see me didn't you? Did you miss me so because I haven't come back to your room since you almost made me bald?"

Aravis felt heat creep up her cheeks. She couldn't think of a witty comeback because everything he said was true, except his exaggeration of snatching his hair bald.

"You two bicker like an old married couple," Peter suddenly said, and if Aravis' face could go any hotter, she would surely explode. She had forgotten that the High King was with them.

"Oh, Aravis here is just like a sister to me," Cor said casually, and the young lady inwardly cursed when she felt a knifing sensation in her heart, almost as though she was hurt by his words. She shouldn't give a whit if she was like a dog to him; she hates him for pete's sake! So why was her mind unable to accept that he thought of her as a mere sister to him?

"And I wouldn't marry this insufferable boy if he were the last man on earth," Aravis said in her most commanding voice, her nose up in the air, and the prince of Archenland was too slow to cover up the pain in his gray eyes.

The High King was about to comment on what they had said when a deafening cheer was heard from the knights who were practicing.

"Oy, Ares, you better get a bucket of water, young Thomas has just fainted," on of the men said, laughter in his voice.

Aravis quickly hobbled to the scene, and saw a boy a few years younger than her crumpled on the ground, obviously unconscious. A few inches from him lay an apple with an arrow pierced right through it.

A few moments later the man called Ares splashed a bucketful of water on the poor boy's face. He quickly came about, although his face was still looking pasty.

"What happened to you?" Aravis asked, worry etched on her face. "I—I volunteered to have an apple atop my head for Sir Dom to shoot with an arrow," the boy stammered.

"And pray tell, where is this Sir Dom?" asked the girl in fury.

"I am sir Dom of Narnia, madam," a tall dark-haired boy with bright green eyes said with a charming smile as he stepped forward.

"Sir Dominic is one of the best archers in Narnia, my lady!" one of the knights yelled in a proud voice. "Aye, and he's very available as well!" another said. Aravis paid them no heed, however.

"How dare you order a young boy for your foolish games?" Aravis said angrily, fire in her hyacinth eyes.

"Why, my lady, he volunteered for it," answered Dom. "And Thomas is nearly fourteen, not too young at all,"

"But you could have sent your arrow straight at his forehead!" she continued in the same angry tone, failing to see Cor's approving smile behind her.

Sir Dom was still looking calm as he answered the maiden's accusations. "I never miss, my lady,"

Fire blazed in Aravis' hyacinth eyes. "Oh really? Then I challenge you to a match, Tomorrow afternoon, and we'll see if what you boast of is really true," she said before she could hold a reign on her temper.

"My lady--" Sir Dom looked quite dubious.

"You can't say no, or you're not a real man at all," Aravis spat out furiously. Sir Dom finally nodded his agreement, though very reluctantly.

"I'm proud of you, Aravis, for giving that idiot what he deserves," Cor said as they walked back to the castle. He was surprised when Aravis turned to him with despair in her eyes.

"Oh, but Cor, I don't know anything about archery."

The young prince gawked at her for a moment, apparently at a loss of what to say.

"What?"

Aravis gripped Cor's arm tightly, looking quite hysterical. "I didn't know why I told him that," she said desolately. "I just lost my temper, he was so arrogant--- oh Cor, what am I going to do?"

"Goodness, Aravis…"

The girl clung to him tighter, her eyes wide with fright.

Cor felt an instinctive need to protect the girl standing beside him, a need to make her feel safe and assured. Maybe it was her limpid violet eyes, which had always had a strange power over him.

"My dear, we are going to have to ask for Queen Susan's help, and hope that by tomorrow you would be a professional at archery,"


And so they begged for Queen Susan's assistance, which wasn't a difficult task as she had agreed quickly. Then to Queen Lucy they went to ask for a drop of cordial for Aravis' swelling ankle (it had swelled due to all her walking earlier). After supper Queen Susan went to the empty court with a nervous Aravis trailing behind.

It was well past midnight when the young Tarkheena voluntarily called the training quits, since Queen Susan was looking fatigued. She had learned the basics on archery, but her skill was only on the average side.

That night she went to bed dreading the next day.

Meanwhile, while Aravis had been training with Queen Susan, Cor had chosen to take a stroll along the garden to think of a way to help Aravis on the morrow; he was walking past some rose bushes when he heard the voice of Sir Dom, who seemed to be in a deep conversation with one of his friends.

"I never dreamed things would turn out this way," said Dom in a desperate voice. "What I was planning was to court the lady, not compete against her in an archery contest,"

Cor stopped cold at what he heard. So the idiot was planning to court Aravis. His Aravis. His fists unconsciously balled tightly, wanting to punch the man in the face. Aravis was his… wait a minute. His? Now where did that come from?

Aravis was like a sister to him. Right?


A/n: There. I wanted to write more, but I've got an entrance exam tomorrow. Hope you'll have the heart to review…