CHAPTER 12: Cor's Coronation

"How do I look?" Aravis asked Nia, twirling in front of the full-length mirror in the room they shared in Anvard castle. It had been four days since Cor's army stormed and reconquered Anvard and the surrounding area, sending the remaining Calormene army back to their home across the desert. Today was his coronation day, with Aslan officiating the entire ceremony and the Hermit crowning the young King. Today was also the day Cor was to make Aravis a citizen of Archenland and a Lady Companion of the Order of the Fortress. So, all in all, this was pretty momentous. Cor offered Nia the title of a Lady too, but Aslan stepped in.

"You look stunning." Nia said admiringly, looking at the ecstatic, excited Aravis. The former Tarkheena was wearing a light blue silk sari with a pink sash made solely for her. Her dark hair was pulled back in a thick plait, ornamented with flowers and a diamond clip Cor's mother used to wear.

"Thanks," Aravis's eyes were shining. "I can't wait!"

"You can't for Cor to sweep you off your feet with his suave, manly dancing?" Nia straightened the creases on the rose-colored gown she was wearing. She'd been dressed for the past hour and was lounging lazily on her bed. "You know very well he can't dance to save his own life!"

"Not that, silly," Aravis blushed. "I'm excited about being… well… being a lady knight!"

"Yeah," said Nia, feeling a wee bit jealous of her friend. "Lucky you."

"Aslan has other plans for you, Nia," Aravis said rather absently, still examining her reflection in the mirror. "I'm sure…" Then she turned around. "Where's Cor, anyway? He's supposed to wait for us! And do something with your hair! We can't have it all bushy and tangled…"

Nia sighed as she let Aravis brush her very unmanageable hair, not answering the Tarkheena's question about Cor. At this very moment, Cor (who had put off doing so since he was too busy with reinstating his kingdom, or something along those lines) was talking to the Pevensies. Nia avoided the Mirrormere like the plague ever since establishing her room with Aravis here in castle Anvard. The castle looked like the stereotypical stonewalled castles she'd seen in Scotland. At least somebody lived here…

Right now, Cor would be telling Peter how she volunteered to go straight into the lion's (no offense meant, Aslan, Nia thought hurriedly) den and how she had the gates opened.

She didn't want to know what Peter's reaction would be. She didn't tell them and she didn't want them to know. Not that she was ashamed of what she did – she wasn't. It's just that she didn't need the harping Peter and (heaven forbid!) Susan would give her. She knew Lucy would probably admire her for that. Edmund would be both awed and amused. Susan would act all snooty and tell her it wasn't proper. And Peter… Why would Peter berate her?

Because he's supposed to be my big brother, Nia thought a little bitterly. Because he's supposed to be just that - my big brother..

"Ow!" Nia gave a startled cry as Aravis tugged at her hair hard, pulling her back into the real world. "Could you be any less gentle?"

"You know you're pretty, Nia, but how are boys going to notice you if you have this… this tangled hair! This will not do. At state your hair's in, I think you'll need the Carvala to permanently tame it."

"Carvala?" Nia remembered her Mum telling her Carvala was some sort of flower, and the nymphs, both naiads and dryads, used it to wash their hair. And it could only be found in Ettinsmoor. "Oh, honestly, Ari…"

"Oh honestly, Nia," Aravis rolled her eyes. "Hang on, I'll braid your hair instead…"


"She did WHAT?" Peter demanded. He and his siblings were sitting in front of his Mirror, conversing with Archenland's uncrowned King.

"She joined the battle?" Susan's nose was wrinkled with distaste.

"This is so like her," Edmund laughed. "Don't you remember how she often said she'd make a good pirate even though she's a girl? She always wanted to wield a sword…"

"Well, she did not wield a sword," Cor said, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. "She didn't even join the battle proper, so don't worry."

"But still, that is so… she's so brave," Lucy's eyes were shining with admiration. "Like… Like a warrior princess!"

Peter looked at her, alarmed. Susan raised eyebrows. Edmund froze. And Cor… Well, he didn't notice anything at all.

"If this were ordinary times, I would've invited you to come over to the coronation ball, which starts in about," Cor winced, "an hour. But then, this isn't, so I'll just keep in touch. And count on our assistance in the war. I, as King of Archenland, Lord of Castle Anvard, promise you that, and rest assured I will honor the age old alliance between Archenland and," here, he smiled, seeming amused at something, "Narnia."

"May we please speak with Nia, Your Majesty?" Lucy asked as politely as she could. "We haven't talked to her for ages."

"I'm afraid," then Cor winced at something, then grinned, "Aravis is torturing her right now. Oh, not really, Queen Susan… It's for the ball, you see.

"It has been a pleasure conversing with you, Your Majesty," Peter said, bowing formally. Edmund followed suit, and the girls curtsied. Cor bowed back, before his face disappeared and they were staring at their reflections once more.

"I cannot believe that girl," Susan huffed as she sat back down her chair. "That's so improper, going into the city alone!"

"She wasn't alone," Edmund said. "Remember, King Cor and Lady Aravis were with her, not to mention this… Sir Thom."

"Well, she could've told us, couldn't she?" Peter asked, more than a little bit angry. "She could've been killed, and we wouldn't have known about it!"

"When are we going to send emissaries to Ettinsmoor, anyway?" Susan asked, changing the subject. Edmund smiled gratefully at her. The Gentle Queen may have been indignant at Nia's "childishness" but at least she knew when to stop – and how to put the reins on the High King when he's mad.

Peter seemed distracted and not magnificent at all. "Tonight… I'm sending Mister Tumnus and the Beaver. We're too busy with the war to go ourselves…"

"Is Beaver alright?" Susan asked. She loved the Beavers and was most upset when Mister Beaver was ambushed. "I mean, has he recovered enough to make this journey?"

"He's alright now," Peter sighed. "And as enthusiastic as ever. At least the wolves won't kill him…"

"Well, the least we can do is send them off as far as the marshes," Lucy said, putting on her best "Peter, please…" look. "Can I please come with them as far as the marshes? Please, Peter. I promise I won't persuade them to let me go to Ettinsmoor!"

"Oh, honestly, Lu…" Susan began.

"I'm not going to get myself killed. You can send Edmund with me! Or you can go with me yourself! Or Oreius, if you're busy. Please, Peter…"

"Oh, all right," Peter sighed, giving in to his youngest sibling, as usual. "I'll go with you myself. Ed, keep the Council in rein while we're away, will you? And you too, Susan?"

Edmund nodded.

"Nasty business, this war," Susan grumbled as she and Lucy and Edmund trooped out of the room, leaving Peter alone to ponder on his feelings.

He admired her strength. She was not just intelligent and beautiful but brave as well. She was perfect, and he considered himself far from it. But he needed to see her soon… Surely, with the trouble in Archenland over, she'd come back to Cair Paravel?

With a frustrated grunt, Peter went out of his room.


"At least," Aravis said to Nia before they entered the throne room, "you look more attractive now."

Aravis had somehow managed to braid Nia's hair, which, Toulouse said, was proof of the Tarkheena's "supernatural powers". Nia, still massaging her sore scalp, grumbled as she went in.

The throne room was a large but simple stone room with a large marble throne at its head. The marble contrasted starkly with the stone, but then, there you go… There was a smaller throne at its right, probably meant for the Queen. The walls were decorated with banners and tapestries of the seal of Cor's House. Nia and Aravis hurriedly moved to the front of the crowd, nearest to the throne. Toulouse jumped lazily in Nia's arms.

:"I haven't witnessed a coronation since," Toulouse sighed, "well, never."

"Me too," Nia felt like giggling. She hadn't seen the crown yet, but she expected it to be as attractive as the crowns Peter and Edmund wore. She blushed, remembering how handsome Peter looked wearing his crown. "Me too."

The throne room was filled with friends and citizens, all there to witness the crowning of their new ruler.

"I feel weird," Aravis admitted, fanning herself though the room was quite cool. "I mean, after this, Cor's a proper King now, and…"

"He'll still be the same," Nia assured him. "You're still perfectly licensed to bully him…"

Suddenly, trumpets sounded, and a crier by the door said, "His Majesty, Cor, son of Lune, son of Sol!"

Nia and Aravis craned their necks to look at Cor. Aravis gave a gasp.

Cor looked positively dashing, walking down the aisle beside Aslan, clad in robes of royal blue, his sword beside him. At the opposite aisle, Nia could see Bree and Hwin goggling at him. Cor's dark hair looked positively lustrous and his blue-gray eyes gleamed with excitement.

"How can you bully someone who looks like that?" Aravis said, gaping openly. Nia bit back a laugh. Aravis was besotted with the King!

Cor had climbed up the steps leading up to the throne and stood there, facing the crowd.

"Archenland," Aslan said, his deep voice majestic. "I give you King Cor the Courageous, by right and by conquest, King of all Archenland."

The Hermit stepped forward holding a crimson pillow. Atop the pillow was a gleaming golden circlet with an oval blue diamond at its center. It was a simple crown, really, but it set off Cor's good looks. Cor bent forward and The Hermit placed the crown on top of his head. Cor stood up and beamed at them all.

"May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens," Aslan said. "Archenland, Hail King Cor."

"Hail King Cor!" The entire room chorused with gusto. "Hail King Cor! Hail King Cor!"

It seemed to last forever… The ceremony was so beautiful. Nia wondered what the Pevensies' coronation had been like. She was sure it was similar to this. Of course, there were different people involved, but still, it was a coronation.

"My first task as a King," Cor said, his voice loud and clear, "will be to knight people who did great service to the realm." The Hermit stepped up again, this time holding a large sword, much larger than the one he usually used. Its hilt was ornately carved and bejeweled and its scabbard depicted some scenes of an event Nia couldn't tell from her distance. "Please step forward, Aravis, formerly of Calormen." Aravis grinned giddily at Nia, and stepped up to Cor, kneeling on one knee the moment she reached him.

"Dubbing," Toulouse muttered. "I've never seen the likes of this since King Thorn knighted Sir Pere of Lantern Waste, and I was a newly-born kitten then."

"Aravis, I declare you a citizen of Archenland and," here he drew the sword from its scabbard, revealing a gleaming blade, "a Lady Companion of the Order of the Fortress." He tapped her shoulders with the sword. "Rise, Lady Aravis of Archenland. May you serve the Kingdom for a long, long time…"

"Look at the way he looks at her," Toulouse whispered.

"Yes," Nia nodded, more to herself than to the Cat. She had no doubt as to who would fill that throne beside Cor's in a matter of five years or so.


The dubbing ceremony lasted longer than it should, with Aravis grinning like a lunatic beside Nia the whole time. The ball after that was more a party than a ball. Sure, there were court dances, but still, it was pretty much happier than the balls Nia had gone to back in America. Lots of young men danced with her, including the soldier Dash and Cor. Surprisingly, the King wasn't that bad a dancer after all, and they had a jolly time twirling and prancing around the ballroom.

"Your scalp still hurts?" He asked her as he twirled her around.

"Not so much now," Nia admitted, laughing. "You talked with Peter?"

"Yes," Cor said, smiling. "And he looked as if he were about to explode! Honestly, he's so worried about you!"

"Was he really?" Her efforts to keep herself from blushing were all in vain. "I mean…"

"Of course he was. They all were. Hey, I heard your shrieks, you know."

"My what?"

"Your shrieks of pain. Presumably when Aravis was combing your hair. She doesn't give up, does she?"

"No," Nia sighed. "Not even on my hair." Then, she noticed Aravis sitting in one corner, smiling happily. She looked so beautiful. Cor noticed this too, judging from the way moved Nia over to get a good view. "Oh honestly, Cor, if you want to dance with her, then ask her!"

"Are you sure?" Cor's eyebrows shot up. "What about you?"

"I'll be alright. I'm tired after all. We already did five dances…"

Cor led Nia to the place where Aravis was sitting and offered his hand to the new Lady. "Care to dance with me?"

"I, uh…" Aravis looked uncertainly at Nia, who kicked her shins (luckily, Cor didn't notice this because of the skirts). "Why not?" She gave her hand to Cor and they proceeded to the dance floor.

"The perfect couple, huh?" Toulouse said, startling Nia.

"Where have you been?"

"To the kitchens. You won't believe how good the things they throw away are."

"That's disgusting!"

"Hey, there weren't any food for Cats during the feast. I got hungry. Everyone was here…"

"Really, Tou."

"Aslan wants to talk to you."

"What? Where?"

"He's outside. He's about to leave for… wherever he's going, anyway. He wants to talk to both of us. Let's go!"


"Be careful, will you?" Susan asked Peter as he mounted his horse. It was already past dinnertime. "And take care of Lucy?"

"Oh, come off it, Su, we'll be back before dawn!" Peter rode to the head of the company. Lucy was already there, sitting on her own horse. Mister Tumnus, Beaver and Oreius were right behind them. "Alright, let's go."

And with that, the company galloped as fast as they could towards the marshes. There was no time to lose. The battle was fast approaching.


"Aslan," Nia said, curtsying. She and Toulouse met the Lion outside the city walls. It was rather scary outside the lights of Anvard but somehow, it felt safer with Aslan around.

"Daughter of Eve," said Aslan, "as you well know, the battle of Narnia against the Calormene conquerors is fast approaching."

Nia nodded. Hadn't Edmund talked about that over and over (and over and over) again?

"Go then, Narnia, to aid your nation, your namesake. Go to Ettinsmoor and ask the Narnians there to fight for their country."

"Weren't they the White Witch's army?"

"What is left of them," Aslan agreed. "But they did not serve Jadis because they wanted to. You will leave tomorrow morning."

"But the battle's in two weeks. How on earth are we going to get there on time?"

Suddenly, she heard hooves pounding the ground. She turned around and saw a dark warhorse trotting towards them – Bree.

"What is it my Lord?"

"Serve your nation, Bree," said the Great Lion. "Go to the North with Narnia and Toulouse. Bring them to Ettinsmoor."

"As you wish, my Lord."

"But there's an army out there," Toulouse said. "What about them?"

"You will take a path to the West," said Aslan. Then, he touched the ground ahead of him with his right paw. The spot glowed briefly and Nia could make out a small hand mirror. "Take this, Narnia, and use this to converse with anyone you wish to talk to."

Nia picked it up. It was a tiny hand mirror, gilded with gold and platinum. "It's beautiful. Thanks, Aslan!"

Aslan nodded, and walked away from them, into the darkness.

"He's not a tame lion, you know," Toulouse said as they headed back to the city. "But he's a good one. And I've no doubt we'll see him again."

"I'm beat," Bree said. "I think I'll go straight to sleep. I suggest you do the same… After all, it's a tiring journey. I'll just tell Cor in the morning. It's not like I'm his horse, you know. I'm a free Narnian…"

Nia nodded, thinking how she'd tell Aravis that she'd have to leave by morning. And wondering how the Pevensies would react once she'd told them she wasn't coming back to Cair Paravel. Not yet.

END OF CHAPTER