I promise, I'm alive!
I'm scared to even look at the last time I posted, but here is the next chapter! And I'm apologizing ahead of time for leaving you with a cliffhanger now, after so much time spent away - but I've finally run out of written material, so I'm going to have to start racking them up again. So forgive me if I disappear again for a little while.
Anyway, here you go! Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy our first glimpse of Cair Paravel! Still no Peter, but he's coming, I promise.
A/N: I've been getting a lot of requests for pairings. I'm not really planning on this being a romance, namely because there is a lot that would go on later, which would be made fifty times more awkward than they are going already going to be if romance was involved. I may have a few fluff relationships just to play with the characters' chemistry, but nothing serious. At least, it's not in the immediate future. Who knows, the characters may decide to take their story into their own hands, and then there's no telling what will happen...
Well, I think that's about it. Quick disclaimer, then you can get on to the feature presentation!
Neither Narnia now Merlin belong to me. They belong respectively to C.S. Lewis and BBC. As do all the canon characters found in this story. Original characters are mine.
Chapter 8: Welcome to Cair Paravel
In which Magic is pondered, Plans are made, and a Lady is surprised.
Nothing could have prepared Merlin for the sheer size of the castle. Of course it looked big from the outside, but he had assumed that it was just the angle. Everything was bigger - the doors, the steps, the windows.
Noticing his bewilderment, Lucy explained, "There are just as many larger Narnians - Centaurs, Horses, even Elephants - as there are smaller. Cair Paravel was made with almost the largest of them in mind. Actually, the only Narnians who cannot fit inside are Giants, but there are so few of those left that it really doesn't make a difference."
"The entire castle is built like this?" Merlin - who intentionally didn't think about Lucy's nonchalant mention of Giants - had noticed a few of the houses down in the town that were abnormally large, but he hadn't given a second thought to the reason behind said houses. It was hard to imagine that a whole castle had been built to scale for an Elephant!
"No, most of the bedrooms are normal-sized," Lucy replied. "But the hallways and main meeting centers - the Great Hall, the dining room, the kitchens, and especially the courtyards - were built for everyone. You'll see what I mean." By now the group of travelers had come to a stop in one of said courtyards. The sun had set completely, but there were lanterns lining the path and surrounding the yard. There was a pleasant smell wafting from what Merlin thought might be an apple orchard, but without confirmation of sight it was hard to tell. Directly in front of them rose a dais, upon which stood a small crowd of people headed by a young woman with long dark hair. As Edmund and Lucy made to get out of their respective wagons, the lady began to descend. Though clearly hurried, her steps were so graceful that Merlin wondered if she weren't a ghost, gliding instead of walking.
"Evening, Susan!" Lucy called excitedly. Merlin coughed; so this was Lucy's sister? He had been expecting someone just like Lucy - blonde hair, bubbly - but this woman was almost the exact opposite. The Queen Susan wore her raven hair long - much longer than even Morgana had done. In the fading light it was hard to see too much detail, but she was obviously beautiful.
"You took longer than I expected, Sister," the queen embraced her sister before turning to her guests. "Welcome to Narnia, Prince Arthur." She curtsied to Arthur, who had managed to stand on his own before she reached them. Merlin hovered behind him should he falter, but understood that this was something the prince needed to do himself. "I wish your stay could be brought on by more fortunate circumstances. Please, make yourself at home here, for as long as you need it."
"Thank you, my Lady," Arthur replied, bowing as deeply as he was able.
"Riddinus, our guests are weary," Lucy addressed a Faun standing a little behind Queen Susan. "Please escort them to their chambers."
"As your Grace wishes," the Faun approached.
Lucy leaned in close to Susan, and Merlin could just barely catch what was said: "Ed brought back a treasure trove this time, Su! I'd help unload, but seeing as these are my patients, I really feel it is my duty to make sure they are taken care of. You can help, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. Merlin didn't get a good look at Queen Susan's face as they passed, but he imagined it was something amusing to Lucy, who was giggling merrily as she offered Arthur her arm. Geraint and Leon followed the two with varying degrees of discomfort, and Merlin ended the motley train.
Lucy chatted energetically, and Arthur listened just as raptly as Merlin had the night before. "Normally you would be introduced the moment you arrived - a crier, trumpets, a whole occasion - but given your condition I think it best that we didn't go into that just now. We can go over more of those details later, when everyone is well-rested. Since Peter's gone, the formal introduction can afford to be not-so-formal - just us and Susan, perhaps Mr. Tumnus - but once Peter gets back Mrs. Badger will want to have a full-on coming out. But we can skip that if you want, seeing as this wasn't planned. I have a feeling nothing about this visit will be anything close to normal. After you've met Susan - officially, that is - you'll all be free to do whatever you please, as long as it doesn't interfere with your recovery."
"Thank you, Queen Lucy," Arthur replied. "Thank you for doing so much more than we could ever hope for. I do not know how I can repay you."
"Nonsense," Lucy waved her free hand. "I'm glad I'm able to help. Just stay off your leg until it is healed - it shouldn't take more than a week, and then you can be on your way." Merlin could see the relief in Arthur's stance, even from behind. "And we can send a messenger back, so that your father knows you are safe. I'm sure you'll be expected home any day now. But we'll discuss the details for that tomorrow. In the meantime, here are your quarters. It looks like Mrs. Badger has already sent up dinner, so make yourselves comfortable. There is a washroom with each of your quarters, and clean clothes will be brought up presently. Feel free to explore, if that's what you want - there's always someone around who can help you if you get lost. Breakfast will be brought up, but no one will wake you until it is time to meet Susan. Until then - enjoy yourselves!"
Merlin had never been offered such quarters as these. This was more luxurious even than Arthur had in Camelot. There was a wardrobe in the corner - the ornate kind, with woodland scenes carved into the frame and feet shaped like claws, not the plain ugly thing that graced his own chambers back home. There was a matching chest at the foot of the bed - which, he noted with glee, was easily large enough that his old cot mattress could fit three times across the width. A plush chair stood in front of a fireplace large enough for Merlin to stand in. Tapestries covered the walls, and the carpet was at least an inch thick.
And what a view! His room was on the Eastern side of the castle, and was built into the cliff which dropped down into the Sea. He could hear the crashing of the waves against the rock, and from this room he could also hear the enchanting song of the Merfolk ringing up and down the coast.
It had been obvious from their ride into Paravel that Arthur was wary of the music - and Merlin reckoned he had every right to be. If Merlin weren't so in touch with his own magic, he would have been terrified. He could see how the Mermaids' Song could be dangerous to men caught unawares. But, the creature of magic that Merlin Emrys was, he could only admire the beautiful sound. The language was foreign, but it sounded very much like Dragon Tongue, only less guttural. More ethereal. It wasn't close enough that he could understand any of the words, but the sounds were similar, as well as the feeling he got from hearing them. It was the same feeling he got when speaking to Kilgarrah, or when he had seen the Sidhe. This was pure magic in its rawest form, and it was wild and energetic and beautiful.
Just like Narnia itself, Merlin mused. Narnia was magic. The very air was alive with it - he could feel it vibrate throughout the earth. It hadn't been as noticeable when they first arrived - a small thrum in the back of his mind which reacted to the air. It had increased when he met Lucy, but not enough to cause alarm. Of course, during the Lawn Dance every sense in his body had been razor-sharp, not least of all his magic. But he'd been too preoccupied to pay that buzz any mind.
It wasn't until he actually reached Cair Paravel that he became fully aware of the effect this place had on him. He felt like he was home - and it was more than just the beautiful room. He felt welcome in Narnia, as if he were returning from a long journey rather than barging into another world. It was an interesting feeling, to say the least, but he wasn't able to ponder it for very long, because almost as soon as he had sorted it out, there was a knock at the door. Merlin jumped, then opened it cautiously.
"Good evening, my Lord," bowed a little Faun.
"I'm sorry?"
"Queen Lucy asked me to bring you your supper. Would you like to bathe before retiring? If so, I will draw the water before leaving for the night."
"I can draw my own bathwater," protested a confused warlock.
"It is no trouble, my Lord," the Faun replied. "You have traveled far and must be weary. Besides, you are an honored guest of the queen. It is her orders that you receive every amenity you need to be comfortable during your stay."
"Um, I think you have the wrong room," the servant mumbled, sure that the Faun had been meant to attend Arthur.
"You are Merlin, are you not, my Lord?"
"Yeah - but I'm Prince Arthur's servant. Not a lord."
"Her Grace has already sent someone to Prince Arthur, sir, but you are as much her guest as he."
"Oh..." Well this was new. What was Merlin supposed to do with a servant? "Well... thanks..."
"I'll get that bath started, then?" the Faun set down his bundle and left before Merlin had a chance to reply. The warlock stared after him for a while, before shaking himself and turning to inspect his little gift. There was a plate full of food that he went for first, but was distracted by what lay under it. The shirt was soft - the softest material Merlin had ever felt. It was nothing like the rough cotton to which he was accustomed, or the fine linen that Arthur preferred. He wasn't really sure what the material was, but he had a feeling that it was common in Narnia.
As he moved to pick up the leggings, the manservant's eye was drawn to his own clothing, and he cringed. He hadn't bathed since the day before they left Camelot, and he had been wearing the same set of clothes for almost as long. Noticing it now, Merlin was surprised Lucy hadn't reacted at all. Her clothing had been pristine, as had King Edmund's. Surely they had noticed the grime layering Arthur's company - what must the king and queen think of their guests? After spending time in the court at Camelot, Merlin knew how important a first impression was, and he was sure that theirs had been a poor one.
Well, he thought ruefully, I suppose there isn't anything to do about that... but I can make sure that from now on, we are presented better. After he had resolved to clean himself up, and to make sure that Arthur was cleaned up, he allowed his attention to return to the plate of food before him. It looked amazing, and if previous experience was anything to go by, it would taste even better. There were several rolls, which were still steaming, and chicken, potatoes, cheese, and a goblet of wine. Merlin sampled the bread first, which was soft and buttery. The chicken was moist and seasoned to perfection - he would have to ask which herbs were used, because he wanted to be able to recreate it later for Gaius. In all, the entire meal was better than anything he had ever tasted in Camelot.
Everything seemed more comfortable here - luxury didn't seem to be a rarity in Narnia. Yet none of the beauty was sacrificed. Merlin had seen nothing since he came here that he could classify as ugly. Even the Dwarfs, who were by no means pretty, had some aesthetic quality about them which could not be matched by anyone else in Merlin's experience. He wondered why that was - was it magic? Or was it some quality inherent to all Narnian natives? It was certainly a curious thing, and one that Merlin intended to ponder long after leaving Narnia.
The warlock was content to munch on his delicious meal and think until the Faun returned. He was pleasantly surprised that a servant had been sent to him - whenever he and Arthur visited foreign courts, Merlin served the prince just as he had in Camelot, and no one thought anything of it. Never had anyone offered to treat him to the same as any other guest. He wondered if they treated all travelers this way, or if this was only because he had accompanied the queen. It was a plausible explanation, but still unlike any he had experienced.
Everything about Narnia perplexed the warlock - especially the idea that it was ruled by four equally-powerful sovereigns. Siblings, no less! How did they interact? He wondered what happened when there was a disagreement. Did they take a vote? Or did one of them make an executive decision? Lucy had mentioned that there was a High King. Did he carry more power than the others? What kind of rulers were these siblings? Merlin imagined they must be decent ones - King Edmund and Queen Lucy got a warm reception everywhere they went. It was nothing like the silent, awed respect Arthur received.
Then there was the country itself. Merlin still had a hard time grasping just how prevalent magic was in Narnia. Never had his own powers reacted so strongly to anything - it was hard to keep it in check on a good day. Usually it was if his magic had a will of its own, and Merlin always had to consciously reign it in. But in Narnia... it was almost as if the country had a calming effect on his restless magic. He felt that a burden had lifted - one he had been carrying so long, he had forgotten it was even there. It felt good. Really good. He could still feel that power, like a flame in the pit of his stomach, but it was more like a comfortable hearth fire, not the wild, destructive thing with which he usually struggled.
Merlin was just thinking of testing this new phenomenon when the Faun returned with hot water for his bath. "Whenever you are ready, sir," the Faun said. "There is a towel there, and oils and bath salts. The night may get chilly; would you like me to build a fire?"
"Uh... no, I think I'll be fine." The Faun bowed again and left with Merlin's now-empty plate. Merlin sank into arguably what could have been the best bath he'd ever had, and sighed. He could definitely get used to this - when compared with the cold bucket to which he was accustomed, the servant felt much like a king now. The bathwater was just the perfect temperature - he could physically feel the grime of the past week slipping away. The bed was even better. Not only was it the largest he'd ever seen; it was the softest. The mattress gave perfectly, molding to his body as if it were made for him. The downy quilt was nearly as thick as the mattress itself - Merlin was glad he hadn't asked for a fire, because he was sure he would burn up if he had. It didn't take the warlock long to fall asleep.
"Lu, I really wish you would have given me a little more warning," Susan said with a sigh. "How long are they staying?"
"As long as needed for Prince Arthur's recovery," the young queen said adamantly. "Can't you just give him a drop of your cordial? King Lune and Corin are coming for the Winter's End feast, and they'll be here at the end of the week. There isn't nearly enough time to plan an international conference here in Narnia." "You know the cordial isn't meant for something like this. The body needs to heal on its own. The cordial will work in a pinch, but it's better the body is allowed to build up the tissue." Lucy shelved the book she'd been reading and turned to face her sister. "I'm sorry I sprung this on you, Susan. But there really wasn't another choice. Everything happened a little quickly, and I didn't know what else I could do. Edmund agrees with me," she added as an afterthought. Susan leaned back with her fingers on her temples. Lucy was right - this was the only viable option. And Edmund's suggestion had been a good one; this would be an excellent way to create alliances with countries west of the border. Still, though, the timing was the farthest thing from perfect Susan could imagine. Not that a surprise visit from a foreign prince could ever come at the right time - but the last thing Susan needed was the tactically-inept Corin throwing around insults while Prince Arthur was still recovering. And she couldn't very well rescind her invitation to Lune. She was looking forward to visiting with Corin - his company had always been a breath of fresh air, especially for Susan. Most foreign dignitaries came to Narnia to flirt with Susan - recently Lucy as well. Corin, however, was incapable of thinking of the Pevensies as anything more than siblings, or perhaps close cousins. That was a relationship that Susan needed.
"If we explain to Corin that he must be on his best behavior-"
"He'll still take it upon himself to box anyone who looks at us the wrong way," Susan interrupted. "And I love him for it." "Don't worry, Susan. This is all too unlikely for it to have happened by chance, don't you think?"
Susan smiled. Only Lucy could think to think of a potentially international crisis as an opportunity from Aslan. "Yes, I suppose you're right," she sighed. She knew that when it came to Lucy's trust in the Great Lion, there was no arguing - and the younger queen usually proved to be right about things like this.
"I mean, Aslan knows what's going on in Narnia. It wouldn't be the first time he sent people on quests that led them here." Well. There really wasn't anything left to say on that front, was there? Susan chuckled lightly, admiring her sister's faith.
"How is it you always see these things so much more clearly than I do?" she asked. "It's so easy for you to trust Aslan."
"He's never given me reason not to," Lucy replied simply. "You and Peter and Edmund think too much. When you think about all the things that might go wrong, you expect them to happen. And you're always surprised when Aslan pulls through. I don't give myself that opportunity. I know Aslan is going to do what's best for Narnia, and he's certainly a far better judge of that than I am. Since all I want is for Narnia to be safe, I trust Aslan to do as he will."
Lucy had explained all of this before, but Susan always had a harder time with blind faith than Edmund and Lucy. Even Peter - headstrong, self-assured, know-it-all Peter - had an easier time of it than she. She didn't know why - Lucy was right, Aslan had given her every reason to trust him - but Susan still couldn't bring herself to stop trying to seize control of things that would work themselves out.
"Well," Susan sighed, "I guess we'll just have to play this one by ear, then. You're right; Aslan will take care of this." Lucy grinned, and Susan stood to stretch.
"So," the Valiant Queen pressed, "has Edmund been to see his pupil yet? She's been on his mind since Merlin mentioned they were from Camelot."
"I think she went to bed. She wasn't near when I received your message, and I didn't think to warn her after, else I'm sure she would have waited up." Lucy nodded.
"Well, we should get some sleep. The Lion knows we'll have our hands full tomorrow." The sisters embraced, and Lucy continued, "I really am sorry that I didn't give you more warning, Su." Susan nodded, and the sisters parted for the night.
Edmund knocked softly, careful not to wake any of the Cair's sleeping inhabitants.
The door opened wide, and its owner stared up at him with green eyes the size of dinner plates.
"Edmund? What are you doing up here so late?"
"Susan said you had retired, and that she hadn't delivered Lucy's message."
"Well, a butler informed me that you and Lucy would be late, but that you would be bringing guests. He did not know more than that and I thought nothing of it..." the woman eyed Edmund warily. "Though now I wish I had pressed. What is going on?"
"Our guest is Prince Arthur of Camelot." She took a step back, her red lips forming a perfect surprised "O." Edmund met her eyes with a stern gaze.
"I think," he said slowly, guaging the woman's reaction, "that it is time you told me the rest of your story, Morgana."
