The Perfect Man
By astrogirl23 (formerly cenagurl)
A/n: Chronicles of Narnia does not belong to me. Wish it did though. :D Anyway, my fic occurs about five years after The Horse and his Boy, so that would make Cor and Aravis about eighteen years old. That said, enjoy:)
Extra Note: I know, I know, this chapter is long due, say, like, almost three years? I apologize for the delay, folks. It's funny, the last time I updated this was when I was a freshman in college, and this time I'm already a senior. Time really does fly by, huh? Anyway, here goes my update! Enjoy, loves. :)
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Chapter 3: Dancing Illusions
"I can't do this."
"Yes you can. All it takes is a right blend of concentration and indifference,"
Aravis rolled her eyes at her companion as they took another turn in the rose garden. "He isn't even looking, so why are we bothering?"
Corin gave a laugh as he pulled her closer to his side. "That's where you're wrong, my dear," he whispered in her ear. "Our target is currently standing by the huge window at the north wing, watching our every move,"
"Where?" Aravis asked eagerly, straining her neck towards the north wing of the palace, but Corin forced her gaze back to the path before them.
"Have you ever heard of the term 'subtle', Aravis?" Corin asked sarcastically, steering her towards the fountain. "You could have just asked me how he was looking at us—well, let me just say that he looked ready to beat me again at boxing,"
"There's no need to sound so happy at the prospect," Aravis said dryly, yanking her arm from Corin's grip. "I still don't understand the point of this though. I doubt that our constant walks in the garden would prove your theory of Cor's feelings correctly,"
"Just trust me on this, alright?" Corin said, giving her a pat on the head. "Cor will be yours before you know it,"
Aravis stared at him in outrage and shock. "Wh—what are you talking about?" she asked, a hysterical note in her voice. "I never said I wanted Cor for myself!"
Corin gave her a knowing smirk that made her blush deepen. "Don't be embarrassed about it, my dear. It's quite obvious in my opinion, how you really feel about my brother,"
"H—How I feel?" Aravis parroted him, feeling dazed with the direction their conversation was heading to.
"Ah, Aravis, are you that dense? Now I'm starting to pity Cor,"
"Why?"
"Its seems, my dear, that you wouldn't know love if it bit you in the arse,"
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"Dancing?" Cor echoed, looking at his father with quizzical gray eyes. "Oh father, I am sorry to disappoint you but…"
"It is all right, my dear son," King Lune said gently, giving his heir an awkward pat on the arm. "I know that during your—ah…circumstance before you were brought here, you didn't have time for lessons…so today, we will be remedying that,"
"But who would teach me, sir?" Cor asked.
"Your Highness, you called for me?" Aravis swiftly appeared on the doorway of the throne room, looking quite beautiful in her blue walking dress, her dark hair tied precariously with a white ribbon. A few strands had already escaped her loose coiffure, and had hung rather enticingly on the sides of her face.
"Ah, yes, come over here, my dear Aravis," King Lune gestured for her to stand beside Cor, whose posture had gone stiff all of a sudden. Their eyes met briefly for a few seconds, light gray meshing with deep violet, and Cor was the first to look away, his cheeks flushed again.
He could still recall in full detail what happened in Aravis' private quarters the previous afternoon; the shockingly tingling feeling of her… of her… drat, he couldn't even voice it in his thoughts! He blinked twice, trying to concentrate on what his father was saying.
"So, Cor, I would like you to meet your dancing instructor," King Lune said, waving a hand towards Aravis, who was looking as surprised as he was.
"I—I would be teaching Cor to—to dance?" Aravis queried, reluctance etched in her pretty face. "But your highness, I'm not sure if I could be able to—"
"But I have watched you do it on several occasions, my dear, and I must say you are quite accomplished at it," King Lune insisted, giving her an encouraging smile that Aravis seemed to have a hard time returning. "Cor needs to learn at least the basics, for dancing is a requirement in their birthday celebration tomorrow,"
"Alright, I'll give it my best shot, your highness," Aravis told the king, and promptly took a step towards Cor.
"First, you have to bow to me like this—" Aravis bowed to him like the males in the court did during Anvard's annual soirees, and Cor mimicked her like a natural. "—while I curtsy to you—" she curtsied. "And then you extend your hand like this—" she held out her hand to him, cupped in a way that can make him slide his palm easily in hers. Cor copied her, and Aravis slid her gloved hand in his extended one.
"You should be wearing gloves when you dance," she commented, trying to ignore the warm sensation of his bare hand against her gloved one. "The ladies you would be dancing with would not appreciate it if you left hand marks on their pretty and expensive gowns,"
"I'll remember that," Cor murmured, his gray eyes looking amused. Aravis felt out of breath for a second, her heart accelerating as he gave her a crooked grin.
"Then you put your hands here—" at this Aravis paused, a little red on the face, before taking Cor's large, warm hands and placing them on her waist and right hand respectively.
"And then we glide like this—ouch!"
"Oh, I'm very sorry, I did not mean to—" Cor was blushing profusely while Aravis rubbed her tender foot.
"Your Highness?" Aravis called out, and Cor suddenly recalled that his father was still there, watching them with a twinkle of amusement in his wise gray eyes.
"Yes, my dear Aravis?" King Lune asked kindly, still smiling.
"I was wondering if I could borrow a pair of sturdy boots before I continue my lesson with Cor," Aravis said in a dead serious voice, and both to her and Cor's astonishment, the king himself burst into a loud boom of laughter.
When Aravis looked at Cor, he too was chuckling amusedly. "Boots, huh?" he said, helping her stand up. "Yes, I would suggest those too. I wouldn't want to hurt your pretty feet and dirty your lovely slippers,"
Aravis was smiling too as one of the castle's footmen handed her a pair of sturdy-looking boots which looked a little big on her. "Thank you," she said genially, sitting on a nearby gold-gilded chair to change her shoes.
She was thoroughly bewildered when Cor knelt in front of her and took her kid slippers off himself, and was slipping on the boots on her feet, just like one of princes in the fairy tales Queen Lucy had been telling her.
"Well then, shall we resume, my lady?" Cor asked, offering her his hand as she had demonstrated earlier. "Your feet are now safe from my clumsy toes,"
With a gentle smile, Aravis took his outstretched fingers and went back to the dancefloor with him.
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"Look at them—don't they just look marvellous together?"
"I agree, they do look splendid… oh, that must hurt, poor Aravis…"
Queen Lucy giggled at the expression on Corin's face as they watched Cor and Aravis practice waltzing from one of the hidden passages beside the throne room.
"She's awfully patient with him today, isn't she?" she asked, and he nodded his assent.
"Wait for another half hour though, and they'll be having their usual spats again," Corin said with a grin, and Queen Lucy couldn't help but smile too.
"So… the gossips which had reached Cair Paravel weren't true, after all," she said softly. "How did it begin, I wonder?"
Corin surprised her when he took her hand and guided her further into the passageway.
"Prince Corin, where are we—"
"Well, I cannot possibly tell you a tale so long in such a dark, uncomfortable passageway, can I?" he said sweetly, and the young queen gave him a bright smile as they ventured the end of the secret hallway.
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"Bravo, my good son, bravo!" King Lune was clapping loudly as Cor finished another round of a waltz, this time complete with music played on the piano by King Edmund himself.
"I say, he moves like he's been dancing before he was born," Kind Edmund praised, and Cor glowed with pride. "Good job too, Aravis, I think you should reserve a dance for me tomorrow evening," Aravis beamed at the young king and nodded her assent.
Just as King Lune and King Edmund were filing out of the throne room, Cor took a deep breath and turned to Aravis, who was putting back on her kid slippers.
"Aravis, I… I just wanted to thank you for your help today," he managed to blurt out, and Aravis raised her face to meet his eyes. Her own violet eyes shone with sincere happiness of his success, and he felt is heart swell with more love, if that was possible, for the young Tarkeena princess.
"'Tis nothing, Cor," she said, rising to her feet. "You know you can always count on me," with one last smile at him, she turned to leave, but Cor had stopped her with a gentle grip on her arm.
"Aravis… that is—er—I was just wondering if…" Cor scratched the back of his head, a light flush staining his strong cheekbones. "Can we dance one last time? I just want to make sure I got it all in my head…"
Aravis raised a brow at him. "I'd think you are quite adept at it already, Cor," she said. "But alright, I guess it would be nice to see if you only dance well with ladies who wear boots a size bigger than their feet,"
With a laugh he could barely restrain, Cor took her in his arms and began to move with the waltz music he began humming under his breath. Aravis moved in rhythm with him, though the one her heart was making was faster, making her a little breathless. She basked into the warmth of Cor's body, wishing that the rare moment would last forever.
Cor seemed to be thinking the same thing. He didn't realize how long they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, when a sudden booming voice broke them apart.
"Aravis! I have been looking all over for you, my love! Has my brother been pestering you the whole time we were apart?" Corin stood at the doorway with Queen Lucy, who was looking at them with curious eyes.
Aravis quickly pulled away from him, looking embarrassed at being caught by the Narnian queen. "Y—your highness!" she said a tad too cheerfully. "I was just teaching Cor how to dance, and—oh! Is that a new gown? I really like the color, and the material…"
She was still babbling as she reached Queen Lucy, who amiably told her where she had her dress made. Cor was glaring daggers at his twin brother, seemingly enjoying his discomfort.
"Corin," he said, his face a mask of complete seriousness. "I need to speak with you."
Corin gulped. This was the first time Cor had ever looked him with such sombreness. Maybe he had gone too far…
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A/n: Don't forget to review. :)