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: "Life is a reflection of intent. Love reflects love. Hate reflects hate." - Jonathan Lockwood Huie
Can the reflection in the ocean waves be trusted?
A/N: If you have not read the first six stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, and Refracted), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.
Chapter Twelve: Pratima
A woman's laugh drifted through the closed door. Lucy sat up from where she had been lying on the bed. Even over the sound of the rain and distant rumbles of thunder, she could hear the laughter. Curiosity prompted her to tiptoe to the door and ease it open. A door further down the hall was open and the laughter was coming from within. Perhaps there were other guests staying with Lady Leto's family.
She crept closer, not wanting to interrupt if it were some servants going about their work. Reaching the open door, she clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. There was no mistaking the woman's coppery hair nor the rich green dress. It was Lady Pratima laughing as she clasped a man close. Lucy's cheeks flushed as she realized the man was nibbling along Lady Pratima's neckline, tugging at her dress as he did so, while she ran long, pale fingers through his hair. Then the lady of the manor shoved him back but she only did it so she could pull his shirt away from his body.
Lucy backed up as quietly as she could, turning away just as the man slid one of his hands around to loosen the laces of Lady Pratima's gown. How awful. While she knew that affairs happened (even though in Narnia, it was most uncommon, practically unheard of really), she never expected to witness one. A wave of sympathy swept through her as she thought of how Pratima's affair must be effecting poor Leto and Lord Horatio. Did the poor lord even know what his wife was doing to their marriage?
Not wanting to go back to the guestroom or even talk to Edmund about what she saw (she was not a tale-bearer, after all), Lucy wandered through the halls. The rain was hitting the windows with an increasing strength. She hoped Ecbert was able to make it to Redhaven safely. But, then again the Pelican might have no choice but to find some place to land and wait the storm out before continuing on with their message. She could hear voices murmuring from another room, but she chose an even more cautious approach.
Sliding into the little alcove, she listened as the murmuring was temporarily drowned out by the sound of fabric being snapped taut. A timid voice ventured, "I thought her ladyship was quite sprightly for havin' a miscarriage two moons past."
A scoff filled the air then a warbling voice answered, "You've a lot to learn, lassie. Her ladyship be no better than a fancy-clad doxy. Plans the losses, she does. All to keep his lordship ashamed that those he think be his own are always lost."
"You- You mean she…"
"Aye, lassie. That one's cold as anyt'ing that swims up from the lightless depths of the sea. His lordship, the poor man, never the same since he lost his arm fightin' pirates and doesn't seem to ever think those miscarriages were caused by unnatural means and fathered before she warmed his bed."
Lucy's eyes widened as she realized how far Pratima had gone. Killing her own children before they could even draw their first breaths! Trembling, she extricated herself from the alcove and hurried down the hall, leaving the maids to their gossip and their chores. She wasn't sure how long she'd wandered before she found herself in a corridor leading to the kitchens, judging by the tantalizing smells. The older woman from before, Cora, bustled over to her as soon as she stepped inside.
"Your Majesty. Poor lamb, you look a mite peaked. Come, let's settle you here by the fire. Some of my tea should do the trick to warm you right up."
Lucy smiled faintly. "Thank you, Cora. Are you sure I'm not interrupting?"
"Now, now, don't think such a thing. Naught but a cup of the same tea I was 'bout to bring my own lamb. She gets terrible chills during these storms, she does." The motherly woman handed her a steaming cup of tea. "Drink it up now. It'll do you good. My own special blend, it is."
Lucy sipped the tea. It almost tasted like Susan's chamomile tea. Then she tasted a hint of peppermint and something else that sent a warm tendril all the way to her toes. She felt herself cease trembling and the horror at learning of Pratima's activities faded somewhat. She felt almost as though she had been wrapped in the warmest of hugs, like when Peter and Susan would hug her. She felt warm. It was a very good feeling. Lucy beamed at Cora. "Thank you for the tea, Cora. It's lovely. Do you think it would be all right if I sat here for a little longer?"
The woman picked up a tray and smiled, revealing two missing teeth. "Of course, Your Majesty. I'll come and get you when it's time to get ready for the evening meal."
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
Tarrin tried not to flinch at a particularly loud thunderclap. He didn't even understand why he was so jumpy. It was a private dinner and the food was as delicious as anything that had come from the kitchens of Cair Paravel herself. King Edmund was conversing politely with Lord Horatio, inquiring after certain shipping matters, while Queen Lucy was attempting to draw Lady Leto into a conversation. Tarrin's gaze drifted to the bruise marring the timid girl's face.
He pitied her for having such a mother. There was something quite wrong with Lady Pratima. He took a sip of the chilled wine and tried not to sneeze as another waft of the cloud of perfume, actually, it almost smelled like the incense the Calormene dignitaries and merchants liked to douse themselves in (the Talking Beasts always complained about it), enveloped him when she leaned forward reaching across him to grasp the wine decanter.
His ears were burning as Lady Pratima brushed her…body against his arm. Tarrin edged slightly to the left, trying to put as much space between him and her as he could without falling out of his seat. A quick glance around the table proved that none were aware of Lady Pratima's uncomfortable proximity to him. He peeked at her and nearly dropped his fork when she held a strawberry dripping with honey to his mouth. Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "No thank you, m'lady."
Lady Pratima who had to be at least as old as his mother pouted like she was Queen Lucy's age, or even Raisa's. "A pity. You should become acquainted with the taste of honey and strawberries, young lord. It is a feast for the senses."
Her words were innocent enough but the way her jade green eyes bore into him made Tarrin wary. Then she licked the honey off the tip of the strawberry, still watching him like a predator who had sighted their prey, and he deliberately looked away. He wasn't a fool. At seventeen, he wasn't completely unaware of the ways between women and men but never had a woman (a married one, no less!) attempted to seduce him. He remembered the counsel of his father once he had come of age on how to deal not only with his own temptations but also with times when a woman tried to tempt him into laying aside his honor.
He would ignore her. Lady Pratima tried thrice more to engage him in a conversation that would lead only to trouble. Tarrin carefully avoided the snares her words formed with non-committal answers and refused to meet her gaze. Finally, she seemed to weary of him as she ceased to speak to him or attempt to brush against him. He cautiously glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The Lady Pratima was gazing at him over the rim of her goblet. She seemed to notice his attention as she lowered the goblet and slowly ran her tongue over her red lips. Tarrin's ears burned as he repressed the urge to lurch back. She was older than his mother. His father's last bit of practical advice echoed in his thoughts: Sometimes, Tarrin, the wisest thing left to a man of honor is to retreat and lock the door.
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
Edmund lay in bed, listening to the storm still battering at the manor. By now, the Greyback twins would be crowding the foot of the bed, pretending they were guarding him when they really just didn't want to be alone during a large storm. He hoped they weren't in too much trouble for running after that cat, but given Lady Leto's obvious terror of even the mere mention of his Wolves, it was probably best they hadn't been present when Lucy spotted her. Lightning illuminated the room. Edmund turned on his side and thumped the pillow, trying to get rid of the lumpiness that kept digging into the back of his head whenever he lay flat on his back.
He wondered how Peter was holding up now that Susan had turned Cair Paravel into Cair Frou-frou and Lace with all the wedding plans. A slight smirk appeared as he mused that they just might return to find Peter wearing some horrid pink, lace-trimmed tunic. His excuse would probably be that Thalia liked it. Edmund mused that Kat and Oreius must be glad that Susan and Tuulea couldn't bury them in all that fluffy (not to mention squealing) stuff that most of the women of Cair Paravel had been indulging in since Peter and Thalia started courting. They certainly seemed to have the right idea by keeping quiet about their relationship.
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
Something tickled his cheek. He sleepily batted the thing away then turned over on his side. Now, something was tickling his neck and the edge of his jaw. Something was laying on him. His eyes snapped open.
It was dark but he could see her form. He blinked in confusion. Leto? Here? No, no, she's far too demure to climb into a stranger's bed. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room just as the intruder captured his mouth. It wasn't Leto. It was her mother.
Edmund grabbed her shoulders, but took care not to leave any bruises that she might decry him for, and shoved her away, breaking the kiss. He kept his voice low. "What are you doing in here?"
Pratima giggled as her pale fingers stroked down his neck. "Do you not know? Little king. Mmm, but not so little anymore are you?" Her teeth flashed as a smile appeared then vanished in the shadows. She pressed down, uncaring of his attempts to hold her back, and breathed in his ear. "In fact, you are just the right age to become a man. Let me instruct you, my lord. I do so enjoy such…activities."
Edmund pressed his lips together then sank a cold dismissal into his tone. "You will leave my room, Lady Pratima."
She only laughed. "Playing hard to get? Why ever for? My husband? The fool will never know. Or perhaps you fear the possible result of these lessons? I assure you, little king, there shall be no royal babes born on the wrong side of the blanket. I will ensure it." She edged closer as lightning illuminated the room and Edmund realized she was clad in some gauzy nightdress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Pratima laughed again when he resolutely turned his head away from her wanton display. She pressed closer to him, raising one hand to pet his hair. "Why do you turn away? Are you shy? You needn't be, after all, it is not uncommon for young lordlings to be, shall we say, initiated by courtesans. When they are finally trapped into a marriage, their wives are thankful for their experience."
An icy fury swept through him, but then he started when she slid her hand beneath his undertunic and her fingers found the round scar left over from when Jadis had stabbed him through with her shattered wand. Pratima mistook this for acquiescence to her…offer. She bent her head, forcing another kiss against his mouth. Her teeth nibbled at his lip then she nipped at his neck all while her cool fingers circled his scar.
"Enough!" Edmund grasped her wandering hands and shoved her away. Pratima missed the edge of the bed and landed on the floor. Leaping to his feet, Edmund snatched up Shafhelm, tightening his grip around the hilt. Ignoring the unfortunate sheer quality of her nightgown, he gazed upon her with only a cold disregard for this woman who would eagerly defy all that is noble and just, especially regarding marriage. "Enough, Madam. You shall depart my room this instant." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth, no doubt to utter some angry protest. "This instant or We shall interpret your actions as an assault on Our royal person. We will not dishonor Ourself or you in such a way, though you've no regard for your own honor. We are not like those 'lordlings' who have chosen to degrade themselves, their future wives, and the women playing the role of courtesan. We will not walk in the footsteps of their example. We will not disregard Our honor or the ways of Aslan." Even in the dark, he could see her flinch at the Name. "Depart Our room this instant and do not plague Us nor Our faithful friend, Tarrin Peridanson, again and We shall be merciful enough not to give a report of this encounter to your husband."
Lightning flashed. Pratima gazed up at him with hate as she spat, "You will regret this, little king."
He ignored the unease that the use of Jadis' old taunt sent skittering down his spine. Pointing at the door, he repeated himself, taking care to enunciate precisely. "Depart Our room."
At first, he thought he might actually have to pick her up and toss her out. Then, she scrambled to her feet. The sneer on her face twisting away the beauty as she slammed out of his room. He pitied anyone who welcomed that sea snake into his embrace, including Lord Horatio. He would not mention this incident to the older man when he finally met with him in the morn, but he would warn him that his wife cared very little for him or their daughter. He turned the key, locking the door to prevent any further incidents. Climbing back into bed, he missed his Wolves. At least, no ambitious females had slithered into his bed when they were around.
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
A/N: Please Read and Review! Poor boys. So, what do you think? Should I attempt to churn out the next chapter tomorrow before I'm fully swamped for the week with school and are you most eager to find out what happens to our trio or what's going on with Oreius and Kat? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.
