Hi guys! You are all rock stars if you've waited around for it because it's been almost two years since I updated last. I sincerely hope this is worth the wait. Unfortunately, it is mainly building plot points to be used in later chapters (but yes, that does mean I have planned more chapters for this). My hope is that you will not have to wait as long but, honestly, I cannot promise a short wait. Life has an amazing way of pulling us in many different directions.
Anyway, I am incredibly grateful and touched that so many of you have supported this story even between such long waits. So, a heartfelt round of thank you's to Allie Danger, MCH, xxComeAlongPond, Dane, Narnia-Bound, Chronicles of Potter, Wenxi, WhisperedSilver, WillowDryad, where the wind blows, Eregnar, Autumnia, and CountryPixie. You're all massively brilliant!
Chapter 17: Dignitary
Silken brocade and starched linen.
Coiffed hair and jeweled broaches.
To others this would be a vast and glorious display of wealth, a dazzling spectacle to be admired and envied.
To Reicher, this…this was his armor.
Golden rings studded the fingers that slid down his collar as he straightened the tiniest imperfection. His image stared back at him from the depths of a polished silver mirror. Rich, embroidered lines illuminated his broad shoulders and strong profile. He had many times been informed that he had grown into a handsome centaur, from the critical, impassive voice of his mother and the doe-eyed gazes of the young women about him.
Such things meant little to him unless they made his objectives more readily achieved.
Emotion, passivity, these things were paralytics.
He turned sharply, tail swiping powerfully at the air, and moved towards the door of his chambers. The halls of Cair Paravel awaited him and they were filled with promise.
On this particular day, they bustled with active bodies, bearing baskets and banners, flowers and wine. He strode ahead, and the tide of servants let him pass with wide eyes and wonderment. Somewhere a minstrel played and a child laughed.
Reicher felt something in his stomach twist. In his mind's eye, he saw himself, young and plain, running through fields of green with the sun warming his back. The child's laughter was his own.
And then there was a crash and a startled servant was suddenly before him collecting the shattered pieces of crockery.
"I'm-I'm terribly sorry, my lord…I-I did not see you there." The young fox blinked rapidly and kept her head bowed low.
"You would do well to pay more attention." His tones were low and dark.
She bobbed her head and gave a little bow. "I am truly sorry, my lord."
"As you should be." Reicher felt his anger ease. He was not the simple child in the corner now. His round, dull eyes were now intriguing and flinty. His pointy noise was instead considered to be narrow and aristocratic. He was protected now. He was respected.
He ignored the grating echoes of his mother's censures, rolled his shoulders back, and offered a smile to the young fox.
If she could not meet his eyes before, she could not even lift her head for the blush that permeated her fur. "Th-thank y-you, my highness…I mean, your lord. I mean, my lord…good morning."
And with that she was rushing down the hall.
A familiar feeling of disgust crept through him. They were all the same. Beguiled by beauty. Well, if that was how the world functioned, then the fools deserved every ounce of power they lost to handsome faces and sympathetic smiles.
He resumed his trek down the corridor with renewed purpose.
Today was indeed important and the buzz of excitement and anticipation was palpable for today marked the return of High King Peter and King Edmund to the gates of Cair Paravel.
Upon his arrival, the servants he'd questioned had informed him that the Kings were returning from negotiations with the giants dwelling in Ettin. The information was muddled from there but apparently the negotiations had been relatively successful.
Either way, Reicher was becoming impatient.
He had come to Cair Paravel to present himself before the four monarchs of Narnia and had yet to see anything of the elusive children of Spare Oom. He knew that the Queens were within the maze of the keep but they had been preoccupied by other matters and were unable to hold open court.
Cair Paravel was the pinnacle power and he wished to be at the vortex of it. Who else could woo power from those who had it but those that were beautiful?
But first, he must make an impression. If the monarchs could not be bothered to meet with him in open court, well, then he would meet them another way. It was for this reason that he moved towards the courtyard now, dressed with precise care.
Trumpets rang through the spring air and there was a collective cheer. The kings had reached the portcullis of the courtyard. Reicher's moment was near.
"Never appear as though you seek attention", the ghost of his mother whispered in his ear, her eyes narrowed.
He waved an arm involuntarily and encouraged himself that sometimes calculated risks were necessary. Taking a breath and preparing his most innocent smile, he joined the cheering throngs near the steps of the castle.
Bright flowers and silken banners caught the morning air and shone with as much brilliance as the pale sun but through all that Reicher caught sight of a golden head followed closely by a dark one.
They rode horses but without much of the trappings that nobles in the court often wore. Their clothes were simple and travel worn. If not for the emblem of Aslan emblazoned on their tunics, Reicher wouldn't have seen anything significant about them.
As they moved closer, he caught sight of their smiles, genuine, certainly, but weary and strained as well. He spared a glance toward the top of the stairs and the two Queens that awaited their brothers atop them.
The younger one, flowers tangled in her short hair, caught her sister's hand and wriggled with excitement. She spoke all in a rush and her sister turned and beamed down at her, nodding in an almost motherly fashion.
As Queen Lucy darted down the steps, Reicher felt his gaze linger on Queen Susan.
She was indeed as beautiful as the legends claimed. Her lips were full and red and her dark hair tumbled down her back in thick curls. Moreover, she carried with her a sense of grace and authority that Reicher found enthralling. Her eyes drifted to the crowds and for a moment her eyes met his.
His breath clung to his throat and his limbs froze.
She looked away and it was as if a spell had been broken. Was this what that fox had felt in the hallway? Was this what reduced women of all kinds to stammer and blush in his presence?
Intriguing…
Reicher followed her gaze as saw Queen Lucy draw near to her brothers. High King Peter launched himself from his horse and caught her up in his arms. The grin that overtook his features was wild and bright as he spun her in a dizzy circle, one hand about her waist and the other tangled in her hair.
Queen Susan and King Edmund met in a much more mannerly fashion, embracing for a moment, her hands catching his face to examine a small cut on the side of his forehead. He shrugged her questions off and instead placed a quick kiss on her cheek. She frowned slightly but couldn't appear to censure him further as the expression melted into a contented smile.
Queen Lucy had finally regained her bearings, though she appeared breathless, and launched herself at King Edmund. He stumbled back at her force but caught her all the same, his eyes sparkling.
High King Peter caught sight of Queen Susan and held out his arms to her and she met him serenely. He seemed excessively weary for a moment and her eyes flickered in confusion. They spoke quietly, glancing once or twice to an amused King Edmund listen to an animated Queen Lucy chatter cheerfully.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and he brightened a little but Reicher found the gesture empty of the same honesty of his earlier expressions. He shook his head quickly and set arm around about her shoulders, saying something to their siblings.
Queen Lucy agreed and caught King Edmund's hand in her own. All together they mounted the steps to Cair Paravel and turned to face the crowds.
The cheering spiked suddenly in volume and Reicher let the noise wash over him, focusing on the information he had just gleaned. The family before him cared for each other deeply, but there were fissures of opportunity.
The family waved graciously, doing their royal duty to attend the masses of Narnians gathered to greet them. King Edmund cracked a mischievous grin and called something out to his brother and watched his face darken and then, just as suddenly, become as equally mischievous.
Before anything could come of it, Queen Susan spoke and they quieted.
There was a peal of trumpets as the family moved towards the doorway. Queen Lucy looked back one last time, waving and smiling, and Reicher used his moment.
He grinned back. She wavered for a moment, eyes searching his face, and then she smiled wider, hand pumping vigorously back and forth.
Someone within must have spoken to her because her head turned, she nodded, and then in a flash of Narnian cloth, they were all gone.
While the crowd felt the rush of adrenaline fade and slowly began to disperse, Reicher felt his own excitement mount. His attractiveness was his armor, clouding the thoughts of those around him and opening them to his influence.
But the court, the interaction between persons, the royal family?
This was his battlefield. And he was not used to defeat.