A/N: I don't feel like I properly captured the characters, but I have a last-minute project that needs finishing today so I can't spend any more time on this. Hope you still enjoy!
Prompt: Write a story taking place in the first few days after Shasta became Cor.
Cor smiled to himself as a wind swept past the balcony. A Northern wind. Rather than smelling of fish and sea or coming with a barrage of sand, it was humid and warm and smelled of forests and flowers.
He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply. Thank you, Aslan. He never would have made it without the Lion. A grateful lump grew in his throat as he opened his eyes into the brilliant sunshine.
"Cor?"
He turned. Aravis approached him from behind, her slender form outlined by the rosy pink Archenlandian dress, which dragged on the ground behind her. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
Aravis raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her dress. "What?"
"You- you're wearing pink?"
Aravis swatted his shoulder as she reached him. "I can wear whatever color I'd like, thank you."
He ducked away from her swat. "No, it looks good! Really good. I just didn't expect you to wear pink is all."
"Oh." A small dimple appeared as she gripped the balcony railing and stared out at the green hills and forests surrounding the palace.
Cor joined her after a moment, still admiring her dress out of the corner of his eye. It was perfect with her dark skin.
"It's so strange," she murmured. "We're here. We were racing for so long to get here— and now we are."
He laughed softly. "Not in the way I thought we'd be."
She hummed in agreement. "Slave to prince and future king." She turned her head to meet his gaze. "I'm… I'm proud of you, Cor."
He smiled distantly. "Thanks… I just hope Father will be."
"What are you worried about?"
"Lessons, mostly. And… how to be a ruler. A leader. Bree was a leader— we all followed him. Who am I to do that for a country?" He tightened his hands around the railing.
Aravis set her hand on his shoulder. "You'll do fine. I have to attend some lessons with you I think, if I'm to stay at the court, so I don't embarrass myself with Calormen manners."
He grinned sideways at her. "Bet I'll do better in the classes than you."
The soft hand on his shoulder swat him. "Bet you won't!"
His grin widened. "Bet I will!"
"I've already had training, you definitely won't."
"But your training doesn't apply here— we're both complete beginners! So we're even."
She huffed. "Maybe. I still say I have the advantage, though."
He shrugged. "In any case, we'll be helped by Aslan. That's for sure."
"Yes." Her hand brushed his as it returned to its place on the railing. "And each other."