Laughter rang out over the palace gardens and out of the open windows of the grand ballroom of Cair Paravel. Narnian and Archish couples walked down the garden paths or swept gracefully across the dance floor. The ocean echoed distantly, and the wind brought the fragrant scents of coming spring and salt air through the windows.
Edmund smiled as he watched Lucy dance with a dryad to a lively waltz played by a band of Fauns, Dwarves, and other Narnians. He looked after her with a fond brotherly expression as Susan walked up to his left. He only glanced at her, preferring to keep his train of thought upon Lucy.
"Edmund, I wonder if you might take a moment of your time and answer a few questions I have regarding Count Feren of Windmere. He seems a noble man, but I want your opinion; you are so very good at judging character," Susan requested, looking up at her brother intently.
Edmund cast his gaze across the ballroom, locking it on the man whom Susan was speaking of. "He seeks your hand?" Edmund asked casually.
"Yes, brother." Susan too looked after the man. He was talking amiably with several of their visitors from Telmar.
"I do not like his attitude toward certain situations. I do not trust him; look at how… never mind. There is something not quite genuine about him, sister; I would accept his suit with great caution; if you might excuse me." He dipped his head and moved off, leaving Susan to ponder what she should do now about her suitor.
Was Feren worth accepting? Would a marriage between them benefit Narnia at all? Long ago she had realized she would never be able to give any of these men seeking after her hand love like they might want, but she might make a good political wife. Susan was willing to marry if the marriage would benefit Narnia, but if it wouldn't she would not pursue it.
~|:O:|~
Edmund walked up to Count Feren and the group which included Frevalla and Coronilla, nodding as he stopped near Lady Hadassa. He had not told his sister, for he realized she might think him enamored to Hadassa if he did– but the Count was looking at the Telmarine girl too often and his glances were too close together for his comfort. Besides, Feren was not shy in procuring mistresses, no matter the country they came from or if he resided in it at the time. Another reason Susan was too good for the likes of him.
But… why should he care whether Feren wanted Hadassa or not? He'd done no better by her, certainly. A nagging thought refused to leave Edmund, but he strove to ignore it. Clearing his mind, he remarked quietly that he wished to dance with Hadassa. If only to remove her from Feren's annoying gaze. She accepted – he knew she wouldn't be allowed to do anything else, he was the Narnian King, after all – and led her into the waltz steps as the musicians began.
"Why are you dancing with me? Surely there are other young women to hold your interests." She glanced up at him and quickly looked away.
"The Count Feren is not a man to be close to," he answered curtly, trying to remain indifferent.
"But he sees me as no one, a simple burden taken in by a wealthy relation of the King – why should he even acknowledge my existence?" she answered calmly.
Edmund glanced down at her, a glimmer of frustration and amusement entering his dark eyes. She was sharp but naïve, he though yet again. Though, he realized that some might look upon it as fortunate that she knew little – if any – of such things as he knew and spoke of in vague terms. "You are not a plain woman, Milady, and there are few I should think that are ignorant of your outward beauty; however, they are not honorable in their means to praise it."
"I do not enjoy listening to what you suggest with your tone, my Lord," she answered. He smiled casually but without remorse for what he had done– if vague and hardly noticeable to others.
~|:O:|~
It had been two days since the night Hadassa tried reluctantly to forget. She was not entirely certain how they managed it, but the Just King did not cross her intimate path and she never had the fortune – should it be for good or ill? – To cross his. The evening of the ball, as she sat before her mirror watching Maria do her hair into a typical Telmarine fashion, she wondered what the festivity might bring. Secretly – she would never admit such things to herself – she hoped to at least watch the Just King, if not talk to him.
Her dress, of a dark navy-blue material with black lace at the throat and around the sleeves, was one of her least favorites, but Coronilla liked the thing, so she was forced to don it for that evening, much to her chagrin. The skirts rustled slightly as she moved her hands in her lap, staring down at them thoughtfully. After some time, Maria wishing to style her mistress's hair just so, she was ready, and left her chambers to join Coronilla and Efrain as they made their way down to the ballroom.
Once there, she had curtsied to several noble men, women, and Narnians, before drifting around the room by Coronilla's side. After Efrain left his wife and charge to discuss some political matter or other with the High King, the Duke Frevalla come up to them and began a conversation with the Countess. At one point, as she stood watching the dancers and barely listening to the conversation, Hadassa noticed a man with dark auburn hair watching them from time to time. He talked a great deal with the Gentle Queen, but when the lady moved off, he slowly made his way towards Frevalla, Coronilla, and Hadassa.
As he came closer, Hadassa took him for a man in his later years, with shocks of grey and white streaking through his reddish-amber hair like the fur coat of a fox that has lived through many winters and survived many hunts. She found herself unconsciously wondering if he was perhaps taller than the Just King, which made her turn away slightly in embarrassment as he came up to them. Recovering, she joined in the conversation– if one might call watching the speaker and nodding where it seemed appropriate listening.
As she listened to the man –she discovered that he was an Archish noble called Count Feren of Windmere – talk of his adventures in the highlands of Archenland, she realized her first assumption of him being a middle-aged man around Efrain's age was entirely incorrect. He was young; perhaps not over thirty-three, but it was the premature streaks of grey in his hair what aged him.
And then, when he told some tale of being struck on the head so hard it was thought to be a mortal blow by his soldiers and fellow knights, she realized that many of the streaks must be from head-wounds that had been deep enough to leave scars. She wondered what sort of man would go about willingly seeking adventures that might kill him – certainly no man she knew would do such a thing! It crossed her mind, however, that she might know another man of similar nature, though he was far quieter about it…
Count Feren talked of a battle with some goblins and hags deep in the highlands; Hadassa listened, actually enjoying the exciting tale and wondering why few men ever told their adventures in mixed company. The Count was certainly not ashamed to speak of these accounts with women listening. She inhaled slightly when she sensed someone at her back. The familiar startled yet thrilled tingle ran down her spine, and she could guess very well who it was, though he was quiet for a long moment, waiting until the Count had finished his story.
He then addressed the group. "Might I steal Lady Hadassa for but a moment to dance this waltz?" he asked coolly. His request was greeted with nods and a slight smile from the Duke. The old man seemed to be enjoying his stay at Cair Paravel. She placed her hand in Edmund's, not nearly so afraid to do so as she had been before, and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.
They glided around it for a time before she found the courage to speak. "Why are you dancing with me? Surely there are other young women to hold your interests." She glanced up at the King and quickly looked away.
"The Count Feren is not a man to be close to," he answered with short brusqueness in his tone, hardly even glancing down at her.
"But he sees me as no one, a simple burden taken in by a wealthy relation of the King– why should he even acknowledge my existence?" She was confused as to why he was verbally abusing the Count; the man had seemed respectable enough, and she had not said anything of aspiring to be 'close' to the man!
She felt his gaze on her as he spoke, and blushed slightly under it. "You are not a plain woman, Milady, and there are few I should think that are ignorant of your outward beauty; however, they are not honorable in their means to praise it." How like the Dark King to poison a compliment with an insult to her knowledge of the world!
"I do not enjoy listening to what you suggest with your tone, my Lord," she answered readily enough. How dare he? How. Dare. He! She inwardly thought with growing temper. She was not some woman that simply existed for a man's pleasure! Nevertheless she became quiet, not wanting to say something he might reprimand her for.
"Perhaps Milady is tired of the ballroom and might relish a turn about the gardens?" His question interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up, nodding slightly. If they are alone perhaps she might ask him if he feels as much confusion as she over that night not too long passed.
~|:O:|~
He did not think he needed to answer her words, so he didn't, merely looked at her and around the ballroom once she fell to silence. He frowned with annoyance when he noticed Feren walking among the dancers toward them carefully. That man would not talk to Hadassa privately for as long as he could prevent it. He formed the question quickly, but asks it calmly. When she nods, he pauses.
"Have you visited the gardens of Cair yet? I have been told by many visitors that they are gardens to hold in memory, but you must tell me if this is truth or falsehood," he remarked casually, moving off the dance floor toward the open doors at the other side of the large room.
"I have not seen the gardens," she replied, looking toward the doors and the landscape beyond.
"Then you must see them tonight, for there is a full moon," he answered, letting the conversation fall into silence as they walked.
Edmund had always been fond of the gardens; they were beautiful, and reminded him of Aslan in some strange way he could not fathom. When they had come to Cair, Aslan had restored the glory of days' passed to the palace, but the gardens had needed manual tending– no magic would mend them as well as caring hands or Talking Animals might. He had thrown himself into the work, determined to show his worth to the creatures that would in but a few weeks' time call him their king.
But that had been many years ago, and he had not the time to often wander the garden paths he had traversed as a child at play in days gone by. Occasionally he would read in the gardens, reclining on a stone couch draped with silken blankets, leaning against some odd cushion or another that Lucy had learnt to sew proficiently and did not cease to make until her fifteenth year. But those carefree lulls when the world did not need him came less-often. As did his peace and quiet to recover from his darker moods.
They walked past the edge of a pond, and he paused when Hadassa looked with interest at the swans gliding across its glassy surface. After he tired of giving patience to her curiosity, they moved on down another path. He pointed out and told the names of, occasionally – when he felt he wanted to – certain flowers which she seemed to fancy.
"It is lovely out here, thank you for taking me," she declared at one point. "Oh, look at the honeysuckle covering that arbor! Honeysuckle is one of my favorites," she exclaimed happily, leaving his side and going over to the fragrant plant to touch the blossoms and inhale the wonderful scent. He followed slowly, watching her.
"I did not know a simple flower brought you such ecstasy," he remarked offhandedly.
"They seem simple, and everyone discards them because of it, but I love them because they are beautiful, and much more complex than opinions people have formed of them," she answered happily as she leaned in to breath the wonderful aroma, not thinking of speaking her words carefully.
He watched her; aware of a curious sensation coming over him, tingling down into his fingers the longer he regarded her. He moved closer, until he could touch the flowers himself. Their scent reminded him strangely enough of Hadassa, that night… no, he reprimanded himself, he dare not venture down that avenue of thought. But she was within his reach, and the longing was becoming next to unbearable.
He looked back down at the flowers, trying to distract himself from her presence. She moved around him, looking at the flowers climbing inside the arbor and up the opposite side. She remarked upon them being two different varieties, but he couldn't seem to pay close attention to what she'd said. When she slowly began moving away from the arbor to continue down the path, he caught her around the waist and pulled her back under it, unable to stop himself from the action.
He met her gaze for a moment, but she didn't fight him, nor reproach him with words, instead, her fingers clutched slightly at his shirt and her breath caught. She looked back earnestly, her eyes wide. This was the oddest sensation he'd ever felt, and it was too quickly becoming addicting. But he discarded that as he kissed her, pulling her close. Her fingers twined into his hair, and he didn't bother to stop the sigh that escaped him.
His mind registered that she made him feel more alive than he had in years; she made him feel the high he thought could only be reached on the battlefield. It was exhilarating while at the same time frightening. She leaned against him, her left hand trailing cool fingers down his neck and inside his collar. He pulled back slightly, catching his breath. When he opened his eyes he found her looking back, lips parted, breathless.
He would have enjoyed staying there with her much longer, but realized soon their absence would be noticed in the ballroom. With some reluctance he stepped back from her. "I fear we shall be missed of we tarry much longer, Milady," he whispered. Though it was dim under the arbor away from the light of the moon, he did not miss the confused, disappointed look pass through her eyes.
"Of course," she murmured, allowing him to lead her out of the shelter of the trailing honeysuckle vines.
A/N:
So, here is that long chapter I promised! :) Nearly 3000 words! I'm not entirely set with this chapter, but I really think it's time I get on with the story, so I'm keeping it and posting the two other chapters as well. So... I need to get my thoughts together and remark upon the spots I thought were important or are important to ya'll.
~o0o~
~Dealing With A Narnian Queen In All Her Mysterious Glory~
OK, in the beginning of the chapter, Edmund and Susan talk about Count Feren, and Susan accepting his suit. This is because in the beginning of this story [the preface], I wrote that "Susan consults him [Edmund] in matters of state and matters of the heart". Which I think is very likely. However, she ultimately refused every single suitor no matter what her brother said, obviously.
I always thought it was odd when I read the book that she never accepted any marriage proposals in all her reigning years, so I gave a reason for it: she never felt like she could love them the way a person wants to be loved.
I mean, there are other reasons, like Prince Rabadash and that catastrophe for example, but I really think it had something to do with the fact that she just couldn't fully love Narnia or people in that world. Always in the beginning, she was on the defensive, protecting her siblings when she heard the Narnians say something that came even remotely close to anger or annoyance at them.
Her "We're not heroes!" "So you're blaming us?" and "Which is why we should've left while we still COULD!"
Are much different from Peter's "Well, he says he knows the Faun." & "Take us to Him."
Lucy's "You're the nicest Faun I've ever met."
Even Edmund is not as negative towards/about Narnia as Susan was/is: "Which is why we have to help them." He even jumped in front of the Fox to keep the Witch from turning him to stone. An animal he had never met until that moment.
Everyone else basically throws their lot in with the Narnians and is ready to help them defeat the White Witch, crowns received in the end or not. Except Susan. When they decide to stay right before the battle, her only reply is basically "Well, then I suppose I should get in some practice since we aren't going back home."
She never fought against leaving, if you noticed. She was surprised Peter wanted to send them back, but she wasn't going to fight it like her younger siblings. She had to stay in Narnia only because of her siblings' love for the country. She loved her siblings and would do anything for them, which is very clearly stated in the films, so if they wanted to stay, she would stay too. But who said she had to truly love the world she was forced to live in because of her familial love for her siblings?
~o0o~
Back to my A/N:
Hadassa thinks in passing that she knows a man similar to Feren in character because she's thinking of the scars Edmund has on his body. She's naturally assuming that they are the results of battles and fights and so-on. She simply assumes that Edmund is quieter about his victories than Feren, she doesn't realize that there are many other plausible reasons for his scars.
I realize many of you may have forgotten who Duke Frevalla is since he hardly ever enters into this story before now. I had to put him back in because I was forgetting him! I tend to do that in favor of the more-liked OCs.
Duke Frevalla: An elderly Telmarine noble who comes to Narnia before he is too old to travel, and also because he does not believe that Narnians are as horrible as so many of his countrymen claim and wants to determined the Narnians' characters for himself.
Sorry there's no Lady Heshlotte in this chapter, but she shall return in two or three chapters to bring Telmar into the foreground instead of melting into the scenery. Pay attention to Heshlotte, everyone, because she never goes away. She'll always be there in the shadows in later books.
I really have no more words to say, except major thanks to Fiordineve for wonderful reviews! Love her!
WH