Disclaimer: I have never, ever, in my life wanted to own a justice system. I don't own Narnia either. Beta'd by trustingHim17, with my thanks!
Rilian knows there'll be at least a few cases at the court the next morning. He collects Ileana and Peri from the room with the Hedgehog family—the Hoglets had quite adopted the two women—and takes them both to breakfast. Peri pours cream over Ileana's oatmeal, and the mermaid sculpts islands floating in a white sea. She has more fun playing than eating.
She wants to come to court, to see more of Narnian justice, and Rilian allows it. It's easier to trust her after yesterday, to be a friend as well as a caretaker. It won't be hard, he thinks, to give her what time he can in the remaining twenty-three days.
But Drinian strides into the room before they finish, bows, and asks for a few minutes of the King's time. Rilian pushes his chair away at once, telling Peri to take Ileana to the Great Hall when they're done.
Ileana scoops up some toast in a napkin and hands it to him, and he stares at it in confusion before she tells him it's a breakfast he can eat on the way.
He wonders where she learned that from, but thanks her, and then follows Drinian's white-haired head into a private negotiating room, two hallways down. Rilian shuts the door before turning to look at his counsellor.
"What is amiss?"
"There's been an attack, my King."
"Who?" Rilian demands sharply.
"No one was hurt, if that is what you're asking. But we don't know who attacked, either."
"I meant both questions, but mainly the first. What happened, and when?"
Drinian sighs. "I went down the shore this morning and found one of the ships—one of the skeleton ones, not even old enough for a name—" and Rilian does not smile, because his father had always loved ships the same way, mourning the damage to them as if they were people—"and it was in splinters."
"Splinters?" Rilian asks incredulously. The beams of a ship stood as thick as a man's arm, or thicker. When Drinian nods, Rilian asks, "Giants' work, then?"
But Drinian shakes his head. "We would have seen the footprints. King Rilian—"
Rilian feels a chill creep down his spine. Drinian rarely hesitates. "Go on, my friend."
"The only footprints around were the sailors'. The sailors remember going home last night, going to bed, most of them—but when they woke this morning, they woke in the ruins of the ship." He pauses. "There were hammers in their hands."
Rilian begins to pace. "Is there any other evidence?"
"Some of the sailors' hands are beaten up, and most have splinters in them."
"Just what one would expect, were the men to have spent the entire night hammering beams into splinters."
"Just so." Drinian lets out a sigh, easing himself down into a chair. "I can't make a dog's head or tail out of it. Either the entire crew decided, all at once, to destroy their own livelihood, or…"
"Or magic is at work." Earthmen padding about quietly, sorrow on their faces and shovels in their hands, doing what isn't their own will. Rilian shakes himself free of his memories and notices Drinian rubbing wrinkled old hands over his face. The King continues to pace, feeling the need to let out some of this energy. Still, the trouble on his friend's face softens him, and he adds, "Courage, old friend. Aslan is greater than any magic." Laying in the grass, telling stories of the Lion who rescues. Aslan is always greater.
"That isn't what troubles me."
Rilian pauses, turning towards him. "Then what does?"
Drinian's fingers fidget in his lap, and he keeps his lips closed. Rilian walks over and plops into the chair across from him. "Tell me."
"Sometimes a word spoken out of turn does more harm than silence, Your Majesty. But a warning in time is the best armour, too…I do not have any evidence for this. But…the mermaid's window overlooks the beach, and the ships, and there hasn't been a magic attack near Cair Paravel before she came here. The closest was that two hour ride into the forest, when the Badger family dug that series of holes and didn't know why they decided to do it."
"They didn't do it in a single night, though—they just felt the urge and didn't deny it, when they had spare time."
"And there were three of them. Not twenty-five men and Beasts with hammers."
Rilian glances towards the door. She's not outside it, he knows, but she's out there somewhere, in his castle, fair-haired and laughing. She'd been telling stories about Aslan just the day before. "She loves the ships," he reminds his friend; he reminds himself.
"I thought so too." Drinian's voice is slow and heavy. "But I see no one—other than the Calormene who isn't getting what he wants—who might want to do the ships harm. There is no one I can think of. Can you think of another?" Rilian could only shake his head. "But if a mermaid wanted to attack Narnia, if her kind wanted to attack…" He shrugs. "Just picture the war, King Rilian. We don't know anything about them, but they know about us. What to target—and who to target."
"With our ships destroyed, we'd be reduced to boats and rafts." Rilian closes his eyes; he can picture this all too clearly. "Those can be easily upset by a creature in the water." He opens them again, and tries to come up with a counter argument. "They could put holes in the ships and drown the whole crew when we're on the water."
"That takes time, and in that time, archers can fire into the water, we can sweep it with nets and pull them up—no, the ships are the best defence we have against the merfolk."
"We're not at war."
"And I hope we'll never be. We don't know it's Ileana, mind. I wasn't even sure I should voice it. I only mention it because I can think of no other potential villain, and while the merfolk have never attacked Narnia, we do not know hardly anything of them. We have no reason to think they wish a war. But…" Drinian shrugs again, his white hair rising with his shoulders. "I kept my silence once and regretted it. Be wiser this time, would you? Don't make me regret speaking; watch her, test her, and keep in mind she may be innocent."
Rilian tries to speak quietly. "I invited her to court this morning." He doesn't look at Drinian. "Should I have her quietly removed?"
Drinian snorts. "That would make watching her a bit difficult, wouldn't it? No, keep her close. But be guarded. No going off like you did yesterday, wherever you went. Not with just the two of you."
"That, I may safely promise." Though a part of Rilian tires at the thought, for he realises he'd already been thinking about taking her there again the next rest day. It felt more like peace than most things in his life.
Seeing her beauty felt like ease after the rage. Just a glimpse of her poison-green gown entranced him. He would stare at her for hours and suddenly it would be so clear, that she was all that mattered.
But he would be wise, he thinks. And there are other things to do inside Cair, with other people around.
"Shall we go to court, Your Majesty?"
Drinian's pointed question brings Rilian back with a start, and he laughs, taking a moment to silently thank Aslan for such wise counsellors around him. Truly Cair is the opposite of the dark world where he'd been held captive.
"So we shall."
There are three minor disputes, easily settled, and then the last case is announced. Rilian raises his eyebrows when he sees the two Cats, three Dogs, and two Sons of Adam who had been caught fighting in the marketplace a week before slinking into the Great Hall. They had agreed to bring their parents to the Cair the next day, Rilian remembers.
They hadn't, and Rilian realises ruefully that it completely slipped his mind. He straightens his back and does his absolute best to look Kingly.
The black-striped Cat's mother steps forward first, bowing her nose to the floor before coming back up again. "My son, the youngest of the litter, told me yesterday that we were meant to come and report to Your Majesty. Forgive me, I heard nothing of it till this past rest day."
Rilian glances over at the older, red-haired Son of Adam who often spoke for the group. "I seem to remember you all being agreeable to the suggestion that you serve in Cair Paravel as a minor punishment." The Son of Adam looks down, scuffing the floor with his shoe. "Narnians keep their word," Rilian adds in a harder tone.
The Son of Adam mumbles something, and his father behind him places a hand on his shoulder. The son raises his head, clears his throat, and speaks a little louder. "We got out the door and realised that your punishment might be minor, but if we told our parents—" he gulps, "it wouldn't be."
"Since we do not take kindly to our offspring misbehaving, they were most correct. But a smart Cat," the mother Cat emphasises, glaring at both Kittens, "would realise further compounding such misbehaviour with disappointing the King of Narnia would make the punishment great indeed." She bows again. "I would be most grateful, King Rilian, if you offer the same punishment once more, knowing we will also take our children to task for both their fighting in the marketplace and breaking their word."
Rilian calls on all the training he's had and keeps the corners of his mouth firmly in place. His voice remains grave as he asks, "I would be amenable to that, good Cat, but perhaps you will tell me what you plan? You may inforce it as you wish, but I should like to know that Narnia's future citizens will do more than fight in the marketplace and disappear from the consequences."
Rilian hears the Dogs let out soft whimpers and sees the flush creeping up the faces of the Sons of Adam. Cats are a little harder to read, but he sees their tails twitching from side to side as quickly as a human blinks, and is satisfied.
So, apparently, are the parents. "My son and his cousin will repair the stall they broke, and then work for the owner for free for the rest of the summer," the father says.
"My son and daughter will run errands for the owner—in the heat, without complaint," the Cat mother adds, and the Dog parents bark their agreement.
"But if your offer still stands, we think it would be good for them to see what use discipline and self-control bring, by training with Narnia's finest."
Rilian puts his fingers together and looks at the children. It is a grave thing to break one's promise. "Very well," he says at last. "But if they misbehave while they are here, perhaps their service to the owner, when it is ended, should be transferred to the castle? We are always looking for more workers in the stables."
The parents all nod, and Rilian looks to the children. "Will you give your word, and keep it this time?" he asks. They also nod, but he looks at them one by one, and asks for it by name.
"Well, till then—work for the owner in the morning, go home for lunch, and then report to the castle. For one se'enday, you will train with the guards, as agreed, in manners of stealth, speed, and the parts of Cair Paravel you are allowed in. If you break that boundary," he warns, and he is careful to hold all their eyes, "you will be imprisoned. This is not the marketplace. The guards will not treat you like children. Do not go beyond where you are allowed." There is little, of course, that would really hurt them—the armoury tower and treasury are locked, but consequences are what the children are here to learn, and Rilian knows giving them the freedom to obey or disobey will reinforce that lesson. "At the end of the se'enday, your trainers and their fellow guards will launch a hunt. Use these coming seven days to find places you can hide—within your boundaries. You will be tempted to think you are safer outside the boundaries. You will not be. If you think you cannot resist this temptation, we will alter your punishment." The Dogs keep their heads down but agree, the Cats sit utterly still as they promise, and the Son of Adam who spoke for the group speaks his promise firmly—but his cousin does not.
His cousin, Rilian notes, has a sly smile and eyes already darting towards the rest of the Cair. Rilian does not let his sigh escape. "Dismissed. Report to Cair tomorrow and ask for the Captain of the Guard." Rilian notes a Squirrel bounding away, and thanks Aslan for Narnians that go to spread the news without Rilian having to ask. The Captain will be ready for his visitors tomorrow—and glad, too, to have a way to test his men.
The group leaves, and Rilian rests his head against the throne and thinks about that troublesome cousin. He will test the boundaries, Rilian is sure. He dislikes having to imprison a child, though, and wonders if there is another solution.
A memory occurs to him, of when he kept wandering down to the sea his father loved, and his parents had stopped him time and again—till at last they let him go, and he went in the water. The current caught him, sweeping him under. Two Naiads, who in love left their streams for the ocean till this happened, pulled him back to shore. But he did not seek the sea again till he had learned to swim, and swim well.
"What makes you smile, King?" comes the question in a clear, lovely voice.
Rilian brings his head up and Ileana is there, just below the dais where his throne sits. He smiles, first, for of course she is there, and then remembers Drinian's words from the morning, and his smile fades. "I was thinking of a lesson my parents taught me." He keeps his voice polite, kind, even, but it is obvious she knows him well, for she looks a little troubled.
And he wonders when he came to know her so well, that he can read that so quickly. They both know each other now.
Don't they?
He knows she loves the ships, that she ran her fingers over every inch she could reach, and that love could not all have been a cover, just to learn how to destroy them. Surely he knew her better than that.
"What lesson?" she asks, after a moment, and he sees she will not ask about whatever he is hiding.
"I think one of the Sons of Adam will not keep to his boundaries, and I was coming up with plans to scare him."
"The one who did not speak?" When Rilian nods, Ileana nods back, agreeing. "He is the shark-fisher, the one who loves the flash of teeth and rough scales that speak of danger." She hesitates. "They can be mighty warriors, if trained well. If they let their spirits be shaped by the water, rather than demanding the sea bend to their will."
Rilian thinks, what a queen she would make, like my mother, for his mother also saw the hearts of men and women, but then he shivers.
If only she is not after being a queen. Why is it, Aslan, that one prerequisite of being a good king is that one does not seek the throne for itself?
"I think you see truly," he tells her, and hearing his own words relaxes him a little. For she does see hearts truly, but she chooses to trust Rilian himself, which Rilian cannot say shows perfect judgement, but she also trusts Drinian, and Rilian knows that to be wise. "Shall we visit the gardens today?" he asks her, rising, and her face fills with joy like water reflecting sunlight.
"Yes!"
"Then go and find Peri and invite her to join us, would you, lady of the sea?"
"At once!" and she whirls and takes six quick steps to the side door. He watches till the door shuts behind her, and he is smiling again.
"Your Majesty is spending today with that young lady?" comes a low voice behind him, and Rilian turns to see Fourlegs the Horse regarding him. Rilian walks down the steps of the dais and nods.
"Your Majesty gives a good deal of his time to her," the Horse continues. Rilian waits, half-defensive, remembering Drinian's advice and preparing to voice it—but half waiting, for Fourlegs often has common sense, even if it takes him forever to get around to saying it.
"Does Your Majesty know where she comes from? I have not seen her before."
"From the sea," Rilian answers.
"Which country over the sea? She is light for a Calormene, better behaved than most from Galma—most who care to set hoof here, anyway—and does not have the manner or speech of Telmar or the Lone Islands. I would have guessed she was from Archenland."
"No," Rilian says, half-laughing at the idea of her being from a nation that is three quarters inland. "She is from the sea itself. She is a Mermaid," he explains. He hears a flurry of wings and a muttered oath behind him, and turns to see the Calormene Ambassador approaching him. The Ambassador appears to have stumbled right into an Owl, and neither is happy. "Is there something I can do for you, Ambassador?" Rilan asks as the man keeps coming.
"No, I—that is—I thought—the treaty. You are sure you will not consider it? Not all your Narnians are skilled sailors, and with six ships to put out to sea, you will need the manpower. Surely even a king as great as yourself cannot fill so many from a land so small."
Rilian pauses for a moment. If the Ambassador still thinks they have six ships, it is unlikely Calormen created the destruction from the night before.
Which makes magic all the more likely, and Rilian hates that. But enough of that for now, he thinks. He has another threat to discover. "What is in such a bargain for Calormen?" he asks straight out, tired of playing this country's game.
"Our great ruler, Tisroc (may he live forever) has willed it. Do not the poets say that great leaders are to be followed without questions?"
Rilian does not answer, and the Ambassador fidgets.
"Narnian ships under the command of your father, the sea-ruler, have gone farther than the gods allowed any Calormene ship," the Ambassador admits at last. "Tisroc (may he live forever) greatly wishes to know more of the lands we have not yet seen. Such wisdom about other lands and cultures makes an admirable virtue, as the poets have often written."
"And to know whether they are easy to conquer," Rilian mutters sourly, ignoring the last part. "Narnia may be a small nation, but it is full of brave hearts. We will fill our ships ourselves. I will put it into formal writing for you to take back with you," he adds, for Tisroc is often unhappy with bearers of bad news, and it is better for him to tear up a manuscript than a man. "I will write it this evening, after things have settled."
The Ambassador bows low and remains there. "I would ask one more thing of your generosity, o great King, o wise King. If I should return too soon, the Tisroc will say I did not do my best. If I could remain here, for perhaps a week, and be seen sometimes approaching you—I will not bring up the treaty again—his wrath may be somewhat assuaged. For great leaders, as the poets write, view failure as a blot upon a masterpiece, a blemish on a lady's cheek, and—"
"If it would help you, you may," Rilian interrupts. "But for the present time, I have two ladies waiting for me in the garden."
"Ah, of course, forgive me. I will go. Yes, I will go now." The Ambassador gives another hasty bow, and Rilian watches him leave, frowning. More writing that night, for someone he didn't even particularly like—but sometimes justice demands that, Rilian thinks. He turns for the door Ileana left out of, only to have a polite horse cough sound behind him.
Rilian gathers the remnants of his patience and turns around. "Yes, Fourlegs?"
"He doesn't speak much poetry for a Calormene."
Rilian stares for a moment, before taking another to not to close his eyes in frustration. "His speech held a good deal of it, at least to my ears," he says, relatively calmly. He hopes.
"But added as an afterthought. Ah, well, that's another knot in the reins. No, this Mermaid…a Mermaid comes on land. That's something new. But I know why I haven't seen her before. I don't go swimming in the sea, not at all."
"If that is all—"
"Hmmm. Not quite. No, Your Majesty, I have one more question to ask. What's her name?"
"Ileana," Rilian says, wondering why Fourlegs wants to know.
"Ah."
"Do you know her?" Rilian asks, suddenly eager. If the Horse has heard of her, perhaps all his doubts of her can be erased. Perhaps he won't have to question her anymore. He wasn't aware of how much he wants that until the possibility stood before him, but suddenly he does, he does, he wants it with all his heart.
"No, of course not. I haven't been under the sea."
"Then why, my good Horse, did you say 'Ah'?"
"Oh, I wanted to see your face when you said her name." The Horse shakes his brown mane. "I thought so, when I heard you took her everywhere, but when you say her name, it's easy to see." He smiles, the odd horse smile that shows far too many teeth but that still makes any horse look like a dork. "One would almost say you're enchanted, Your Majesty."
Rilian stops cold, because he's impatient to get to Ileana and he knows it, because he just wants a few minutes in her company, and he tells himself it's because she's not a Calormene Ambassador or a slow-talking Horse or even a Kitten who fought in the marketplace, but he knows, it's just because Ileana is herself.
It's the same pattern as before, when he could think of nothing else, nothing but her. But it's not the same, surely the two aren't the same, blonde hair instead of black, eyes so filled with wonder, while the other eyes had been so focused…Rilian feels his throat close and knows he will have nightmares that night again. Her eyes were not something he should think of.
But they had both gone everywhere he went, he thinks. They both laugh in ways that enchant. Rilian is barely aware of Fourlegs leaving as he thinks, and both of them had holds on my heart.
Rilian does not take any steps towards the door, even while he wants to, because he also doesn't. He doesn't want to deal with this.
Nor the magic against the ships.
Nor a troublemaker…
Rilian feels overwhelmed, and suddenly strides towards the door, out of the Great Hall with the people he must rule, away from the throne that makes him more than a simple man who might have, were he not a prince, have fallen for a mermaid and lived happily.
But the mermaid might not have fallen for him, he reminds himself. He shuts himself in a small recess room and sinks into the chair, letting his head fall into his hands.
Aslan the list of all the things I must carry is growing so long. It isn't night and I cannot hear the song of the stars—send me something else?
He waits, waits till all the footsteps die away, but nothing comes. Nothing but the memory that he has promised Ileana to show her the gardens, and he had just rebuked seven young Narnians for not keeping their word.
So to the garden he goes, passing through the white-flowered rose beds, the cherry trees, and the purple-lined Larkspur Path, and still he does not see them.
But he reaches the corner of the garden, where a former Queen had planted flowers so that the circle exploded in rows of every possible colour throughout the entire summer, and he sees Ileana, eyes wide, and fingers reaching for a bluebell. Peri behind her is laughing and saying, "Touch it, touch it!"
"They're as bright as coral. But they feel—like water flowing past my cheek. And the smell—I have never smelled something such as this! King!" she breaks off on seeing him, and runs to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him inward. "There are colours here even the waters cannot create!" She takes him around to this flower and that one, pulling his hand forward to touch it, bringing them up to his face to smell them.
In this daylight, with the sound of her laugh and her wonder ringing in his ears, Rilian cannot believe she means him harm. Or Narnia, or the flowers she so clearly loves.
Her laugh brings others to their corner of the garden, calling the Birds from the skies and the Squirrels from the trees. She knows half of them by name. The Birds call her to their favourite flowers, and the Squirrels urge her to race. She catches Peri's hand—Rilian is too far away—and they race the Squirrels down the Larkspur Path and back. Rilian watches them, beginning to laugh, for the Squirrels of course are winning, or would be, but they keep bouncing back to the girls and darting through their legs, and so it is the girls who reach him first. Peri scolds the Squirrels in a teasing tone, but Ileana, Rilian notices, is doubled over, panting. He reaches for her but Peri is closer,* and she pulls Ileana upright, worry on her face. The Mermaid's hand is pressing on her heart, and Rilian moves before he thinks, grabbing her shoulder and her hand.
"Are you well?"
Ileana's breathing eases, and she smiles. "Perhaps I should not run so much," she says lightly, and her face holds no shadow.
"You recovered a lot faster this time, lady sea! You had me worried," Peri scolds, still holding on to her friend.
But Rilian is not reassured. He remembers their race to the beach, and though she had panted there as well, her hand had not been over her heart. Further back, when she first learned to race the Squirrels—she had not had trouble breathing.
Rilian feels ice filling his stomach, for he knows nothing of Mermaid health, but he can spot a slow fading, and this is one.
He releases her shoulder but takes her other hand, holding both of hers, and turns her to face him. "Ileana," he begins, as gently as he can, for he remembers the secret by the stream and guesses this will not be easy for her, "why do you struggle to breathe more than you did?"
Her smile vanishes. "Please, King. Do not ask me that."
"You cannot tell me? Ileana, this is—something is not right. Please, tell me. I want to help you."
Her eyes are filled with pain, though no tears fall, and she bites her lower lip. "I'm sorry," are her whispered words, and she will not look at him.
Drinian said an enchantress would not seem weak, but Rilian also hates once again that she keeps secrets, and that, because of that, he cannot help her, nor know her.
He lets one hand go, keeping the other, and turns back to the brightly coloured garden. "Perhaps we should keep to a walk today," he says, and he feels her fingers squeeze his.
He knows it is a thank-you, but he does not look at her. The sunlight suddenly seems cold, and the garden a pretty trap. He stays with the girls the afternoon, because Drinian's advice is often valuable and he trusts it, but he says little. Then Peri and Ileana go to visit the Hedgehogs, saying goodbye to the Birds and Squirrels, and Rilian excuses himself.
He goes to find Galaxah's cousin the librarian, another short-tempered, common-sense Owl. He asks Guhen to look for—at night, when few others would be around—all the legends and information he can find on the Merfolk.
If Ileana will not give him answers, Rilian will find them another way. He will not live in this half-longing, half-fear.
*Another suggestion from ScribeOfHeroes (she's contributed a LOT of ideas to this story through her reviews, so thank you so much!), that Peri would notice and worry about Ileana's breathing, which makes perfect sense, only I never thought of it.
A/N: It's 4,700 words this time, which I suppose is a thousand less, but Rilan and Ileana—only I can't blame you much for this, since this is more chapter than plot. Bah, humbug!
