Well, I got this one out a lot faster than I expected. The last relevant chapters were chapters 16 (Cor) and 17 (Aravis). Thank you to Le Faucon Bleu and Padre Pedro again for your reviews and to Drollittle and Guest! Hope you Enjoy!

The Tisroc's Proxy

The next two days were difficult. Cor seemed to be needed by everybody in the castle and he barely had time to even think, let alone grieve. He had to approve the coronation menu and the seating arrangements and he had to go to another fitting, this time without Aravis and every step of the way, he had to bite down all his feelings about his father.

Everyone said they understood and they were so sorry, but they kept forcing him to make preparations for his coronation in the same clothes his father had worn and with the same schedule his father would have kept. With Corin missing, Cor had to be crowned King swiftly and with certainty, but the speed at which the palace seemed to be moving on was overwhelming.

Cor wasn't entirely sure how he was holding himself together in the face of it all. What with servants and guards and advisors referring to him increasingly as 'The King'. It felt like they had all just forgotten about his father.

And then there was the fact that every time someone called Cor 'The King', it stirred in him a horrible feeling that this was all a big mistake. That he'd fooled them all somehow and he was going to fail them.

He wasn't ready to be King. He couldn't even ask Aravis to marry him.

In fact, since he'd realised she might not want to marry him, he'd barely spoken to Aravis and to be truly honest, he'd been passively avoiding her. It had seemed like a necessity at the time, because what were you supposed to say when you were blindingly in love with someone who might not feel the same? But the longer Cor avoided her, the more it felt like the stupidest thing he could possibly do.

Because now he couldn't talk to her when the coronation preparations got too much. Now he couldn't escape with her to the little clearing in the orchard when the castle felt suffocating. Now, he couldn't check up on how she was feeling herself.

And he was also beginning to think maybe Aravis was avoiding him too.

He didn't seem to have to try very hard to avoid her and she never seemed to approach him to confess that the coronation preparations were getting too much for her. Or to ask him to escape with her to the little clearing when the castle felt suffocating. Though maybe that was just Aravis' normal behaviour.

She had never been good at asking for emotional support in anything. He hadn't realised just how deep that trait ran until their conversation on the staircase a few days ago. He supposed he should be grateful she ever told him anything at all.

Maybe she really was just behaving normally. Maybe she really hadn't realised he'd been proposing.

Maybe he should stop avoiding her. But when he spotted her in the courtyard as he came out of his second fitting, he still couldn't make himself go outside to talk to her.

-O-

On the third day, Cor could avoid Aravis no longer. Word came in the evening that the Calormene procession would be arriving the following morning and Cor and Aravis would greet them.

Cor was required to be there because he would be King and because whatever disagreements Calormen and Archenland had had in the past, it was not wise for Cor to start off his reign by avoiding the Calormene procession and thereby slighting the entirety of Calormen.

And Aravis was required to be there because she knew how to comport herself in the company of upper class Calormenes and might already be acquainted with the Tisroc's proxy or their family which could help smooth relations. Cor hadn't asked her himself to be there — it was Trel who had insisted — but Cor was glad Aravis would be there anyway.

And not only because he seemed incapable of preventing himself from avoiding her if left to his own devices.

The Tisroc's proxy would likely be a Tarkaan from a noble Calormene family and even after all these years, even with a title of prince and soon King, Cor could not easily block out the instinctual feeling that he was somehow lesser than a Tarkaan. He knew on a rational level that he was not lesser than anyone, but the lessons beaten into him over his first thirteen years were the hardest lessons to unlearn.

Arsheesh had always reminded him that he would never amount to anything, that he would never rise above his station, that he would be a fisher boy until the day he died so he should get used to it now. And Arsheesh would know. "Fishers cannot act like Tarkaans and Tisrocs," he would mutter bitterly sometimes when Shasta expressed desire for anything. He would have what he was given and no more. What would Shasta or Arsheesh even know about running an estate anyway let alone a country?

And so it was that when word came an hour or so after dawn that the Calormenes had been sighted on the path up to Anvard, Cor found himself hurrying down the stairs and out onto the castle steps. Having slept poorly and woken early, he was the first of the greeting party to get there. He was joined shortly by Trel, Lord Dar and Ambassador Aror, but no sign of Aravis.

Maybe she really was avoiding him.

No, he was probably reading too much into it. She was supposed to be here. She was probably just running late.

Sure enough, as the Calormene procession came into sight of the castle gate, Aravis hurried out to join them. Her brown hair was pulled back at the sides in a style favoured by the ladies of the court though rarely favoured by Aravis and she was wearing a dress – a very Archenlandish dress. Cor raised an eyebrow. She usually favoured her Calormene-style trousers, but perhaps that was only when Calormen wouldn't know about it.

"You look beautiful this morning," said Cor as she slotted in between him and Lady Trel. Down the line, Lord Dar gave him an exasperated look.

Aravis however, blushed.

"And you look like a King," she said.

Cor's chest squeezed. He did not feel like a King.

As the Calormenes got closer, Aravis looked out at them with Cor and Cor wondered if she felt the same way he did in that moment. Like he was standing on shifting sand, like this was all a dream and he would one day end up back in Calormen, the fisher boy he'd been before. He blinked the thoughts away.

Regardless of whether he thought he could be King or not, now was not the time to show those fears to the world.

He straightened his spine.

He had to start his reign off on the right foot.

The Calormene procession was five horses with five men, all wearing turbans. As they rode through the castle gate, Aravis shifted next to Cor. He glanced at her and realised at some point, she'd stuck her nose high in the air like she did when she was angry. Or afraid.

His chest squeezed again. Perhaps he should not have allowed Trel to ask her to be here, but he'd thought since she'd agreed that she was okay with it and she had not been pressured.

But Aravis was also incredibly stubborn about pretending she could not be hurt and he suspected she would rather die on her own sword than admit to Trel that she did not want to greet the Calormene procession.

It had only been in a moment of weakness last year that she had confided to Cor that even after all these years, she too feared that she would one day be forced to return to Calormen somehow. And then she would face the punishment of a runaway bride and be forced back into a marriage with Ahoshta Tarkaan.

Squeezing her shoulder, Cor had promised he would never let that happen, because in all their time in Archenland, he had never forgotten what Aravis had told him she'd intended to do to herself the first time they'd met.

What she'd intended to do when she thought she had no escape.

The procession stopped at the base of the castle steps and all five men dismounted at once. The youngest stepped forward. "Announcing Ahoshta Tarkaan, Grand Vizier to the Tisroc – may he live forever – and royal proxy to the coronation of King Cor of Archenland," said the young man.

Aravis went rigid and Cor was filled with a sudden fury that took his breath away as an old man stepped forward from the back of the procession. He had weathered skin and thin eyes that flitted between the five people at the top of the castle steps, settling on Aravis for a moment longer than polite.

Cor tried not to shake with fury.

The Tisroc had sent Ahoshta Tarkaan as his proxy.

Ahoshta Tarkaan.

They could mean nothing else by this than to insult. And Cor had thought they'd only try to annoy him by reciting poetry and overstaying their welcome.

This was far worse. The Tisroc must have heard rumours of Aravis staying at Anvard. Ahoshta must have recognised the name as his once-promised bride. And they must have heard that the future King was rather fond of her too.

And so Rabadash had sent Ahoshta to stand in for him at Cor's coronation.

Because even though Rabadash could not leave Tashbaan, he could still find ways to hurt Archenland and it's citizens without lifting a finger.

Ahoshta smiled broadly and falsely.

"Your majesty must greet him," said Trel quietly. Aravis was so still, Cor wasn't sure she was breathing.

Though he knew he was about to be the King, though he knew it was his duty to meet the proxy of a head of state, right now, Cor did not want to greet the Calormene procession at all. He wanted to kick them all out of Archenland.

For making him feel small, for making him feel powerless like the fisher boy he'd once been.

How dare these Calormenes come to the gate of his castle and taunt his friend with the reminder of what awaited her if she ever got dragged back to Calormen.

"Your majesty," hissed Lord Dar.

"Greet him," mumbled Aravis.

Cor looked at her, but she was looking dead ahead, her head tilted up, her gaze fixed on a point in the mid distance.

He would not have done it, but Aravis had told him to and in this moment he had to follow her lead. It was her past they were facing.

Crushing his fury as best he could, Cor stepped forwards and held out his hand.

"Grand Vizier," he said, shaking the man's wrinkled and sun-spotted hand. "We weren't expecting you so soon."

"My apologies, your majesty," said the Grand Vizier, bowing lower than his age suggested he could. All that practicing for the Tisroc no doubt. "But we made much faster progress than expected and I cannot say I am not pleased at the opportunity to sample as many of Archenland's delights as possible during my brief stay."

His gaze flickered to Aravis again and Cor stepped into the man's line of sight, blocking Aravis from view. What kind of a disgusting human adult tried to lay claim to a thirteen year old girl? What kind of a society allowed it? He'd never questioned it so much when he'd lived in Calormen - it had seemed odd to him on an instinctual level, but it was just how things were and he was too young to fully understand - but a few years in Archenland and a few years of age had made him realise how barbaric it truly was.

"But you must be tired from your journey," said Cor, veins fizzing. "I will have you shown to your rooms."

The Grand Vizier smiled broadly and falsely again.

"Perhaps the Lady Aravis, native of my lands would be willing to fulfil that role," he said, peering around Cor.

"The Lady Aravis is otherwise occupied, I'm afraid," said Cor sharply. "But the Ambassador will accompany you."

Ambassador Aror hurried forwards and Cor moved back to meet him halfway.

"Put them in the rooms in the West Wing," said Cor quietly.

"But," said the Ambassador, glancing at the Grand Vizier, who was pretending to admire the blossoming trees around them. "We were going to put them in the main castle."

"I know," said Cor, then looked to Aravis. She was still very still, like she was hoping if she didn't move, nobody would notice her distress. "But I don't want them in the main castle. Take them to the West Wing."

"But the rooms aren't ready," said the Ambassador.

"Then distract them until they are," said Cor. "And don't let that man anywhere near Aravis, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, your majesty," said the Ambassador, then went to intercept the Grand Vizier.

As they shook hands, Cor returned to his place at the top of the steps next to Aravis. He didn't know what to say, but he hoped she understood that he was here for her. That he would always be here for her. That he wasn't going to avoid her anymore.

And maybe he didn't believe he could be King yet, but he would make the Calormenes believe it and he would make everyone else believe it too so that no one could ever force Aravis back to Calormen against her will.

Aiming for 2-3 months again.

Also, in case you missed it, I've posted the start of a new Cor and Aravis fic. It's called 'Shipwrecked' and it's about Cor and Aravis getting shipwrecked on an island with only each other for company in the middle of a furious argument. It's pre-drafted, 9 chapters so I'll be editing and publishing them once a month too.