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edenfallingThis is a semi-direct sequel to Mother of Exiles.
Aravis and Cor want to be together; Lune is less than enthusiastic. Fortunately, Aravis has a friend. (925 words)
(The revised and greatly expanded final version of this chapter is now up on ff.net.)
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Which Give Value to Survival
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Human body speech was still an awkward second language to Hwin, despite the years she had spent studying her slave-masters for hints of their moods. Bree had a sharper eye -- or perhaps battle had given him greater incentive to learn -- so he was the one who drew her aside shortly after their arrival in Anvard.
"Something's amiss between Cor and Aravis," Bree whispered. "Let's get them apart from each other and see what mess they've churned up this time." His lips tickled Hwin's ear, and she shifted sideways to jostle his hindquarters with her own.
But spending time alone with Aravis was never a hardship, so Hwin agreed. Now, as she and Aravis stood in the guest stables and Hwin took full advantage of such civilized amenities as hoof picks, combs, curry brushes, and a friend who knew the best ways to use them, she realized Bree had been correct. Aravis was stewing furiously over something, and doing her best to pretend nothing was wrong.
Hwin flicked her ears in amused resignation. After all they had won through together, did Aravis still think she had to maintain a brave act for her friends? How silly. But she was still young, and the young grew upset about so many, many things. How to raise a question delicately, without sending Aravis into a tirade or a sulk?
Hwin leaned into the currying, chewing over and rejecting various phrases, but before she found a good approach, Cor stuck his head around the doorway of the stables, possibly looking for Bree. Aravis looked up at the sound of his footsteps -- their eyes met -- and Cor's golden cream skin turned bright red. He mumbled a strangled sort of apology and ducked away.
Aravis lifted the curry brush from Hwin's side and absently touched the bracelet of bells that encircled her left wrist. Then she glanced down and yanked her fingers away, as if they had betrayed her, and hastily returned to her work. "I hate King Lune," she growled, pressing too hard and digging the bristles into Hwin's flesh. "He calls the Tisroc (may he die of indigestion) a villain for placing politics over common decency, but he's just as bad."
Hwin looked Aravis up and down with her right eye, trying to remember all the little signs and motions she'd translated over the years. Aravis had her jaw clenched tight -- anger or frustration -- and her light buckskin complexion had darkened a shade or two with a flush -- anger or cold or... Suddenly the odd scent that had hovered around both Aravis and Cor made sense. Arousal. They were mating.
Hwin sighed gustily. Humans could be so strange about such a simple thing, but then, fillies and colts could be downright unreasonable in their own ways. Also, now she didn't have to think of a polite way to ask Aravis why she was behaving oddly around Cor.
"Forbidding a betrothal is not quite the same as starting a war by treachery," Hwin said gently. "For one thing, you are still alive and free to argue your... your suit?"
"Lune won't listen to me, and Cor is being a milksop," said Aravis, tossing the brush to the rush-strewn floor and springing up to sit on the low wall that marked Hwin's bed out as a semi-private space. "He says it won't kill us to wait a year or two for Lune to come around to the idea. Fool! A year will only give Lune time to arrange marriage alliances with other northern lands and lords. I'll be separated from Cor by his own sense of duty and gratitude, and the sun will be darkened for our hearts until the end of our days, from the loss of each other."
Aravis was slipping into high Calormene formality. That was never a good sign, if what you wanted was a rational discussion. "Surely King Lune wouldn't make his own son miserable," Hwin ventured.
Aravis scowled. "Not intentionally," she allowed, "but Cor would have to be lying on his deathbed before he'd tell his father he felt less than perfectly happy. He hates to worry anyone (except me, for some reason), and he's still afraid Lune will tell him it's all been a terrible mistake and he'll have to go back to being a fisherman." She leaned against the outer wall of the stables and closed her eyes, sinking into a willful sulk.
"Ah," said Hwin. She flicked her tail thoughtfully, and chewed over a new set of options. Cor wouldn't solve the problem, and if Aravis said King Lune wouldn't give her audience, Hwin believed her. Therefore, someone else had to solve the problem.
Hwin's skin shuddered, as if a swarm of flies had suddenly landed on her withers. Oh, she hated speaking out to people. She hated arguments and strife. But Bree would only be insulting -- negotiating with humans required delicacy, not bullheadedness -- and Hwin hated even more to see Aravis unhappy.
"What if I spoke with the king?" she said to Aravis.
Aravis opened her eyes in evident shock. Then she leapt down from the wall and threw her arms around Hwin's neck, rubbing the newly brushed hair the wrong way. "Would you? Would you really? I'm at my wits' end, I swear I am, and it would mean so much for someone to take my side."
"Of course I will," said Hwin, twisting around to nuzzle Aravis's fine, dark hair. "Explain everything to me, and we'll work out a speech together."
---------------------------------------------
Back to Mother of Exiles
Forward to Speak Softly
Read the final version on ff.net
---------------------------------------------
...I kind of want to write the discussion with Lune, now. What can I say -- politics is interesting! (And then maybe the wedding, and/or the wedding night? But no, I don't have time. *thwaps plot bunnies*)
And now I am off to rescue my (hopefully dry) laundry from the laundromat.
Aravis and Cor want to be together; Lune is less than enthusiastic. Fortunately, Aravis has a friend. (925 words)
(The revised and greatly expanded final version of this chapter is now up on ff.net.)
---------------------------------------------
Which Give Value to Survival
---------------------------------------------
Human body speech was still an awkward second language to Hwin, despite the years she had spent studying her slave-masters for hints of their moods. Bree had a sharper eye -- or perhaps battle had given him greater incentive to learn -- so he was the one who drew her aside shortly after their arrival in Anvard.
"Something's amiss between Cor and Aravis," Bree whispered. "Let's get them apart from each other and see what mess they've churned up this time." His lips tickled Hwin's ear, and she shifted sideways to jostle his hindquarters with her own.
But spending time alone with Aravis was never a hardship, so Hwin agreed. Now, as she and Aravis stood in the guest stables and Hwin took full advantage of such civilized amenities as hoof picks, combs, curry brushes, and a friend who knew the best ways to use them, she realized Bree had been correct. Aravis was stewing furiously over something, and doing her best to pretend nothing was wrong.
Hwin flicked her ears in amused resignation. After all they had won through together, did Aravis still think she had to maintain a brave act for her friends? How silly. But she was still young, and the young grew upset about so many, many things. How to raise a question delicately, without sending Aravis into a tirade or a sulk?
Hwin leaned into the currying, chewing over and rejecting various phrases, but before she found a good approach, Cor stuck his head around the doorway of the stables, possibly looking for Bree. Aravis looked up at the sound of his footsteps -- their eyes met -- and Cor's golden cream skin turned bright red. He mumbled a strangled sort of apology and ducked away.
Aravis lifted the curry brush from Hwin's side and absently touched the bracelet of bells that encircled her left wrist. Then she glanced down and yanked her fingers away, as if they had betrayed her, and hastily returned to her work. "I hate King Lune," she growled, pressing too hard and digging the bristles into Hwin's flesh. "He calls the Tisroc (may he die of indigestion) a villain for placing politics over common decency, but he's just as bad."
Hwin looked Aravis up and down with her right eye, trying to remember all the little signs and motions she'd translated over the years. Aravis had her jaw clenched tight -- anger or frustration -- and her light buckskin complexion had darkened a shade or two with a flush -- anger or cold or... Suddenly the odd scent that had hovered around both Aravis and Cor made sense. Arousal. They were mating.
Hwin sighed gustily. Humans could be so strange about such a simple thing, but then, fillies and colts could be downright unreasonable in their own ways. Also, now she didn't have to think of a polite way to ask Aravis why she was behaving oddly around Cor.
"Forbidding a betrothal is not quite the same as starting a war by treachery," Hwin said gently. "For one thing, you are still alive and free to argue your... your suit?"
"Lune won't listen to me, and Cor is being a milksop," said Aravis, tossing the brush to the rush-strewn floor and springing up to sit on the low wall that marked Hwin's bed out as a semi-private space. "He says it won't kill us to wait a year or two for Lune to come around to the idea. Fool! A year will only give Lune time to arrange marriage alliances with other northern lands and lords. I'll be separated from Cor by his own sense of duty and gratitude, and the sun will be darkened for our hearts until the end of our days, from the loss of each other."
Aravis was slipping into high Calormene formality. That was never a good sign, if what you wanted was a rational discussion. "Surely King Lune wouldn't make his own son miserable," Hwin ventured.
Aravis scowled. "Not intentionally," she allowed, "but Cor would have to be lying on his deathbed before he'd tell his father he felt less than perfectly happy. He hates to worry anyone (except me, for some reason), and he's still afraid Lune will tell him it's all been a terrible mistake and he'll have to go back to being a fisherman." She leaned against the outer wall of the stables and closed her eyes, sinking into a willful sulk.
"Ah," said Hwin. She flicked her tail thoughtfully, and chewed over a new set of options. Cor wouldn't solve the problem, and if Aravis said King Lune wouldn't give her audience, Hwin believed her. Therefore, someone else had to solve the problem.
Hwin's skin shuddered, as if a swarm of flies had suddenly landed on her withers. Oh, she hated speaking out to people. She hated arguments and strife. But Bree would only be insulting -- negotiating with humans required delicacy, not bullheadedness -- and Hwin hated even more to see Aravis unhappy.
"What if I spoke with the king?" she said to Aravis.
Aravis opened her eyes in evident shock. Then she leapt down from the wall and threw her arms around Hwin's neck, rubbing the newly brushed hair the wrong way. "Would you? Would you really? I'm at my wits' end, I swear I am, and it would mean so much for someone to take my side."
"Of course I will," said Hwin, twisting around to nuzzle Aravis's fine, dark hair. "Explain everything to me, and we'll work out a speech together."
---------------------------------------------
Back to Mother of Exiles
Forward to Speak Softly
Read the final version on ff.net
---------------------------------------------
...I kind of want to write the discussion with Lune, now. What can I say -- politics is interesting! (And then maybe the wedding, and/or the wedding night? But no, I don't have time. *thwaps plot bunnies*)
And now I am off to rescue my (hopefully dry) laundry from the laundromat.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-18 06:03 am (UTC)Yeah, the King Edward Abdication speech, adapted for Narnia. Oh, you know you want to write it.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-19 01:17 am (UTC)Abdication would be an unusually effective threat to hold over Lune, given that he apparently takes primogeniture Very Seriously, judging by his speech to Cor at the end of HHB; but what precisely would push Cor that far, when he's a pretty mild person overall? And as for the rest... Hmmm. *sorts through plot bunnies*
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-19 05:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-20 02:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-18 10:26 pm (UTC)Aravis is wearing the bells now as a bracelet! Slipping into high Calormene is not a good sign! Oh, I bet that means something!!! Also, I think Aravis' characterization of Cor and his relationship with Lune seem spot on. There are so many lovely little bits of character and world building!!
A couple of minor things -- Hwin notices the color in Cor's face and Aravis's flush. While I suspect horses could sense that change in emotion, via scent, hearing, or just "sense," I don't know that they see in color. As you've written Hwin so delightfully horsey, I thought I would mention that so you can check it out. Maybe then can -- I don't know.
Also, when Hwin deduces that the betrothal is the issue, Aravis betrays no surprise that the Mare has figured her out. She just launches into her Lune won't listen... etc. I think maybe a transition there where Aravis expresses some reaction to Hwin's clever deduction might be appropriate.
And uhhh, yes, more please. I recc'd the other one over on NFFR, so hopefully a few more people will discover this line of work.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-19 01:25 am (UTC)I checked Wikipedia, which informs me that horses have dichromatic vision, rather than human-style trichromatic visision. In practice, this seems to mean they can't see the color red; their spectrum runs from yellow down through blue-violet. Since a flush or blush is the suffusion of skin tissue with blood, which is red... well, I think Hwin could see a slight darkening of skin tone, but it would be much fainter in her sight than in ours. (Which means that Hwin probably can't see Aravis flushing after all, though since Cor is paler, I bet she can tell when he flushes.) *ponders how to revise that line*
Also, when Hwin deduces that the betrothal is the issue, Aravis betrays no surprise that the Mare has figured her out. She just launches into her Lune won't listen... etc. I think maybe a transition there where Aravis expresses some reaction to Hwin's clever deduction might be appropriate.
Yeah, you're right; that needs a better transition. I will fix that before I post this section on ff.net. Thank you for the help!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-19 01:35 am (UTC)Maybe Hwin senses the flush as heat? Even if she can't see the color, she can certainly feel the discomfort and rising heat and probably the darkening of the flush. And, realistically, is there anyone who would notice this except for me? If you leave it in, I won't tell anyone!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-19 02:03 am (UTC)I'm actually not sure I see King Lune being an impediment to Cor and Aravis' relationship, but you've set it up so well with the Calormene-ness of both of them, especially with Cor, that it totally works for me.
And Hwin! I love her character so much, timid but brave, quietly practical, the perfect balance for the more fiery Aravis, and I think you capture her so well. She's so very much a Horse, and her little thoughts and comments were so well executed. She hates speaking out, but admits that she really is the one most suited to the task, and so she'll do it for her friend. That is really lovely.
And I think my very favorite little part is how we learn through Aravis that Cor is afraid Lune will say it's all a mistake and he has to be a fisherman after all. That is such the essence of poor insecure Cor, and I loved how you worked in his side, as it were, in the matter without him even being there.
Absolutely loving this series, and I can't wait to see the next part!!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-19 02:57 am (UTC)I am very fond of Hwin. She is far and away the most sensible of the escapees -- it was her plan that got them into Tashbaan, after all, and if they had listened to her later on, they would not have had to run so hard to reach Archenland ahead of Rabadash. I think she will always be a quiet person -- a non-dominant mare, if you will -- but I think freedom has been good for her confidence.
Sooner or later, I will get Cor on-page for a proper conversation. Until then, I am glad he's coming off well in sidelong glimpses. *grin*
(I will respond to your ff.net review tomorrow, when I am more coherent. It has been an awfully long day at work, and as I have already had to edited this comment over five times for completely unintelligible sentences, I don't trust myself to make much sense.)