More Cor and Aravis now. I love writing these chapters. And it's another hefty one. Thank you to Le Faucon Bleu for reviewing the last chapter. Sorry if this chapter is under-edited. I have been editing my original fiction round the clock and I'm getting really sick of editing :| But, I don't want to keep you all waiting any longer, so here we go.

Allowances for Pregnant Women

When Cor went to Aravis' room the next morning, he was flanked by three guards. They'd been following him around since the council meeting and he tried his best not to be bothered by them – it was for the security of the realm. And peace. And Aravis.

Cor had also submitted to an hour of sword fighting to placate Lord Dar, followed by a rigorous training schedule for the rest of his life. It wasn't that Cor disliked sword fighting, but he didn't have the same passion Corin had for fighting. Cor preferred to lose himself in books. Facts and stories and philosophy. Running into Aravis in the library was a welcome side-effect.

Smiling to himself, he knocked on her door and she peered out, deep brown eyes and dark wavy hair.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Why can't I just wear my normal clothes?"

Cor held up his hands. "I asked the same question."

"Yes, but you're going to be King," said Aravis. "I'm not even a member of the royal family."

"Yes you are," said Cor.

She smiled and touched his arm. "Maybe to you, Shasta."

"You'll always be part of this family," he said. "I promise."

And even if he wasn't there to ensure that, he was going to make sure everything was arranged so she would be comfortable.

"Thank you," she said, but something he couldn't place flitted behind her eyes.

"Anyway," he held his arm out to her. "Shall we go down? Can't put the fitting off forever."

-O-

"Your majesty, please stay still," said Leyrin.

She was a stout woman, with a patchwork-style dress. When Cor had first arrived at the castle, he'd worn Corin's clothes until Leyrin had found time to make him some of his own and she'd confided to him that the patchwork dress was just off-cuts from the fabrics used for the nobles' attire.

"Sorry," mumbled Cor.

He straightened up, then glanced at Aravis. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. Smirking.

"I wouldn't smirk like that, Lady Aravis," said Leyrin. "You'll be up here yourself soon enough."

"But you know my dress size," protested Aravis. "I haven't changed much since last year."

"That's what they all say," muttered the dress fitter, marking the thin line of fabric she'd stretched across Cor's chest with a piece of chalk, then measuring against a ruler.

In the last few months, Cor had started to feel self-conscious about the thinness. For most of his early teens, he and Corin could interchange clothes and occasionally pretended to be each other. These days, Corin's chest was much broader.

It wasn't that Cor had no muscle, but he didn't train the way Corin did. Corin boxed his tutor everyday and won most of the time. And then he would continue to practice alone in the stables. Cor was nowhere near as disciplined with physical exercise, though he loved riding. Especially morning jaunts with Aravis.

He glanced at her again. Now that she didn't realise he was looking, she wasn't smirking, but studying the thin shirt fabric against his chest. Did she think he was too reedy as well?

With a roll of his shoulders, he tried to stand straighter, broader. Corin even had a small height advantage on him, which his father said – had said – probably came from Cor's impoverished upbringing. His father had always seemed to understand so much about the world. Though he'd always said Cor understood more of it, because he'd been poor and rich and there weren't many who could boast such a varied life.

But Cor would have swapped all his knowledge of the world for eleven more years with his father.

He sighed. Aravis' gaze jumped to his face and he could tell the moment she realised he'd been watching her watching him, because red blossomed on her cheeks and she looked away.

"Right," said Leyrin. "That should do it. Lady Aravis, you next."

Cor climbed down off the platform and shrugged his jacket back on as Aravis came over.

"Don't worry," she said, patting his chest where she'd been staring. "You'll definitely look handsome in your coronation attire."

He smiled and caught her fingers. She took a sharp breath, but didn't try to pull her hand away and he decided he should do this more often. Holding her hand. Standing close enough that his hairs stood on end.

"It will be difficult not to be outshone by you," he said.

She blushed and let go of his hand.

"That is sweet of you, Shasta," she said, then moved up onto the platform.

"I mean it."

Aravis blushed brighter, but stood still as a statue. Her hair curled neatly down her back and she was wearing trousers. At a time when everything else was changing, it was good to see her still wearing her usual clothes. It was good to see her, full stop.

He didn't know what he would do if he didn't have her. Servants and counsellors didn't really know him the way Aravis and Corin did. Servants and counsellors didn't tease him or knock him down, or occupy his thoughts when he tried to sleep – though that was mostly Aravis.

Leyrin measured Aravis' dimensions and proclaimed that the Lady had been right – she had not changed much since last year. Aravis smiled smugly to herself. "Can we go now?"

"Not yet," said Leyrin. "I must finalise designs with your majesty. Are you happy to wear the same coronation gown design as your father wore?"

Cor's heart ached, but he nodded. He wasn't trying to usurp his father, but the feeling lodged in his stomach like a heavy stone.

"Very good," said Leyrin. "Then I'll let you go."

"Thank Aslan," said Aravis as she closed the door behind them. She scratched her arm. "Shasta, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He raised an eyebrow. She tugged at a strand of her hair – whatever it was, it was serious.

"Follow me," she said, so he did.

Down through the grey-stone corridors, strung with tapestries. After Cor had returned to Anvard, his father had commissioned a tapestry depicting the story of the prince who saved his realm before he knew it was his. It stretched over one of the walls as Aravis led him towards the library.

Sometimes, Cor came down just to look at it. Though the pictures didn't look that much like the real story, they always jogged his memory and he could spend an hour being thirteen again. Racing through woods on horseback pursued by a lion. Trudging through burning sand. Running on still further to the King's party.

It all felt so distant. Shasta, the fisher boy.

He glanced at Aravis, but she was frowning at the floor, lost in her thoughts, and hadn't noticed the tapestry. She was the only person who still called him Shasta. He'd never asked why.

Cor had swapped to his birth name immediately when he'd found out he was the prince. He'd thought she would swap too, because of all her high and mightiness, and her sense of propriety, but she hadn't.

They stopped at the door to the library and Aravis pushed it open. Cor half-expected to see the economic adviser, but no luck. Cor would have to catch him at another time if he wanted to secure Aravis' future. And sooner rather than later.

Aravis wandered down one of the thin aisles, pulled out a book and returned to the reading table.

"What's this?" said Cor, as she flipped it open and pulled out a piece of parchment that had been tucked into the back pages. The air smelt musty and stale.

"Please read it," said Aravis. "It's a bill."

"A bill?" said Cor. "As in a bill of law?"

She nodded. "Please just read it."

Cor scanned the page. Then scanned it again. An equal-rights bill. Allowances for pregnant women outside of marriage. Processes for appeal against discrimination. He looked up at her. At her warm brown eyes. She was leaning over his shoulder.

"Well?" she said. Her dark hair fell over him, tickling his cheek.

"Did you write this?" he said. She nodded. "And you did all the research?"

She nodded again. There so much detail. A miller's daughter. Land-holdings. Terrible tragedies he'd never even heard of. And all he could think was: Why isn't this already a law?

"Aravis, this is…" but he didn't know how to put his feelings into words.

"Will you back it if I present it to the council?"

"To the last letter," said Cor.

She let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, because it's kind of urgent."

He frowned. Urgent? He glanced at her stomach, then met her warm brown eyes. Her cheeks reddened. Allowances for pregnant women outside of marriage?

"Aravis, are you…?"

His heart thudded. His stomach ached.

"Am I…?"

No, she couldn't be. She…He…

He shook his head. "Aravis, are you pregnant?"

Aravis' eyes widened, then she burst out laughing. Great chesty laughter. She patted his shoulder, her little finger grazing his neck and his whole body reacted. His skin prickled. His chest squeezed.

"Are you?" he said.

"No!" She clutched her side. "Aslan almighty, Shasta. Do I look pregnant?"

He shook his head. The ache in his stomach subsided.

"So you're definitely not pregnant?"

"Who would I sleep with?"

Don't answer that, said a voice in Cor's head. Plus, he wouldn't sleep with Aravis until they were married.

Until?

Why had he thought that?

"Am I not allowed to write a bill to benefit others?"

"Of course," said Cor. "Sorry."

Until they were married? Until…

And then it hit him. A bolt of lightning, accompanied by a dull familiarity. He was in love with her. He wanted to marry her. Deep down, he'd always wanted to marry her and he'd always ignored it. For the sake of not changing things, but things had changed anyway.

Aravis squeezed his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she said. Her voice reverberated around his chest. "You're giving me a funny look."

I'm in love with you.

"It's because you're so beautiful," said Cor.

Aravis laughed and patted his shoulder. Her hair tickled his cheek. "If you keep saying that, people are going to think you're looking for a Queen," she said.

His heart thudded. Rain pattered outside the library window. Should he get down on one knee? No, that was silly. Straightening his spine, he looked her straight in the eye. "Maybe I am."

"And I'm looking for a fisher boy," said Aravis.

"You are?"

Aravis grimaced. A flicker of panic in deep brown earth. "Shasta, I'm joking."

His heart felt too small. His chest was collapsing.

"Oh right," he said. I'm in love with you. "Me too."

Oh my heart! Well, it wouldn't be fun if it were easy ;) Also, if you're enjoying this, you may be interested in my other Narnia story (Cor, Aravis and Corin again) called 'First Snow'. Check it out :)