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edenfallingBree chapter, yay! Bree is such a wonderful blowhard. *pets him* I do feel I lost his narrative voice a bit toward the end of the chapter, and the conclusion is too abrupt in general. If you have suggestions on how to fix either of those problems, I will be very grateful.
Cor is Bree's boy and has been since Bree stole him from Calormen. Of course Bree will help him run away again. (1,675 words)
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You Can Choose Your Friends
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Bree's main reason for visiting Anvard was, as always, to spend time with Cor. Hwin and Aravis were also friends -- dear, close friends -- but Cor was his boy: the one Bree had snatched from a wretched hovel, taught to ride, and set free to run as he never could have done away from his native range in the North. And something was definitely amiss between Cor and Aravis, no matter how much Cor claimed he hadn't done anything to mortally offend the girl, which meant Bree ought to be giving Cor a listening ear and solid shoulder to lean on.
It was therefore doubly frustrating that Cor had given him the slip. Bree huffed and stamped a back hoof at the base of the tower to which he'd tracked Cor. Archenland was saner about Talking Beasts than any country save Narnia, but large sections of Anvard were nonetheless designed for bipeds, not for people with four legs, hooves, and a bit of difficulty negotiating tight spiral stairs in narrow stone walls.
"Inconsiderate, I call it," Bree said to himself, and snorted.
Well, Cor and his overly loud womb-brother couldn't stay on the battlements forever, and there was a possibility Hwin might have returned from her audience with King Lune. In any case, Bree ought, as a loyal Narnian, to take the chance to speak with Lady Eena, the donkey jenny who kept a weather eye on Calormen in addition to acting as Ambassador Cereus's deputy. She appreciated his knowledge of various Tarkaans and the petty failings they had let slip in his presence, thinking themselves observed only by a dumb animal.
Thus resolved, Bree ambled through Anvard's lower halls and courtyards toward the guest stables, nodding absently to various Archenlanders he passed.
When he reached the stables, he found Hwin and Aravis tucked away in the half-privacy of the back corner. They were deep in conversation, voices rising and falling in agitated murmurs as if they were trying to stifle an argument. Bree waited for Hwin to notice him, then stamped a hoof and whickered to draw her attention. "Ahem."
Hwin's head jerked up, her eye rolling briefly in startlement. Then she heaved a deep breath and said, "It's only Bree, Aravis, do put your sword away."
The girl slid her blade back into the scabbard and slumped in her seat, leaning against the stone wall in an attitude of despair. "It's hopeless," she pronounced. "I know how these things go. The western provinces have had centuries to reconcile themselves to their place in the empire, but they still rebel every generation. The people of Archenland are no less proud. I won't be the cause of war. I'll release Cor from the dance and leave Anvard tomorrow."
Bree cast Hwin a puzzled look over the girl's head. Hwin curled her lip back and pointedly sniffed the air.
Bree drew in a deep breath, wondering what Hwin was on about, and promptly sneezed. Oh. So that was how it was, eh? He'd thought Cor was simply growing up, as humans did, not that he'd fixed his attention on a particular girl. Good for him! He and Aravis would suit each other nicely, in Bree's estimation.
But evidently the humans had got things tangled, as usual, if Aravis was going on about wars and escapes. Time for more sensible people to step in and set things right.
"I doubt anyone would go to war over something as small (or as welcome) as you and Cor mating with each other," Bree said, walking over to his friends. "Even if you're planning to run away, I hope you intend to tell him first so he can come along. We can make an adventure of it, all four of us."
"Like old times," Hwin added, brushing her nose against Aravis's shoulder. "Don't be so quick to discount Cor or yourself. Remember that the king is on your side, though he can't set aside the law."
"Law?" Bree asked, and found himself deluged by a tirade against the blind nationalistic prejudice of Archenland's Great Council, Lune's foolishness for not using his moral authority to sway his countrymen, and Cor's cowardly hope that if he held his breath until he and Aravis were old and decrepit the issue might simply slink and starve to death in the tall grass. Behind Aravis's strung-tight shoulders, Hwin sighed, gripped a scoop between her teeth, and began transferring dried oats from a storage trough to a pair of feed bags.
Eventually Aravis wound herself down to a simmer.
Bree bumped her gently with his shoulder. "It's a pickle," he agreed. "I don't think running away is the right answer, though -- or at least not running away on your own. If you and Cor run off, that will prove that you're serious and Archenland shouldn't take him for granted. I know I'd rather have him for a king than his brother."
Aravis laughed in startled humor. "Who wouldn't! Corin's fun, and not nearly as stupid as he likes people to think, but he hasn't the patience to rule."
"Corin has no patience at all," Cor said, nearly startling Bree into a kick. By the Lion's Mane, when had he entered the stable, let alone walked up nearly close enough to touch Bree's tail? Clearly Bree hadn't been paying enough attention.
Cor was carrying a lumpy leather bag that looked as if he'd packed it blindly in the dark -- which comparison Bree could make with authority, having seen several such bags in their escape north from Calormen. He held two saddles awkwardly balanced on his left shoulder, making him list to the right. Now he dumped them and the satchel on the floor of the guest stable before picking the top saddle up properly.
"Corin's going to come after me soon," Cor said, carrying the saddle over to Bree. "If Aravis and I run away, will you carry us?"
"Of course!" said Bree. "We were just wondering if you'd come with us." Hwin nodded in agreement.
Aravis rolled her eyes. "The horses were; I wasn't. Are you so highhanded now that you don't think to ask me if I want to go with you?" Aravis demanded, but she was picking up the other saddle as she spoke, so Bree didn't put much stock in her protest.
"Sorry. We can split up once we're over the pass into Narnia, if you'd rather I release you," Cor said as he draped the saddle over Bree's back and began buckling the straps under his belly. Bree obligingly let out his breath a bit to make it easier for his boy to reach. Saddles were annoying, but they did help distribute a rider's weight, and if Cor was going to get anywhere mating with Aravis, it would be best not to have him sore and rubbed raw in delicate places by the time they reached Narnia.
"It would be awkward to find your father for the proper response, so you can take his role and strike me down if you'd like," Cor continued. "It's your right. I've been weaseling out on you for nearly two months now."
"Don't be an idiot," Aravis snapped, tightening the straps of the other saddle around Hwin. "I knew you were a sop when I opened the dance. I'm hardly going to kill you just when you've started acting sensibly."
Cor handed her the leather bag in response. She loosened the drawstring and peered inside while he hooked the newly filled feedbags to Hwin's and Bree's saddles. Aravis made a face. "Bread and hard cheese," she grumbled. "What is it with northerners and cheese?"
"It's portable," Cor said, stuffing a comb and brush into an empty feedbag and tying that to Bree's saddle as well.
"So is dried fruit, which has the added benefit of not making your breath taste sour when I kiss you," Aravis said. She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder.
"You can find fruit in Narnia," Hwin said in a conciliating tone.
"Exactly," Cor agreed. "Hurry up, everyone. We need to be gone before Corin thinks to check the castle gate and warn the guards that I'm leaving." He strode toward the stable door, pushing it open and letting the wide, warm beams of afternoon sunlight stream through and make the dusty air sparkle.
Bree and Hwin exchanged a look over Aravis's head -- humans always made simple things so complicated -- and followed Cor out into the courtyard. Cor and Aravis mounted efficiently and the horses headed for the gatehouse at a brisk walk. Anvard's gates stood open from sunup to sundown in times of peace, and the guards stood watch not for fear of attack but so one could accompany and announce guests. In point of fact, the pair on duty that afternoon were sitting on a bench with their pikes leaning against the heavy gate, laughing breathlessly at the conclusion of some old war story.
One recovered his breath enough to stand and bow as the little party passed them. "Out for a picnic?" he called.
"We may be a while. Don't hold the gates open for us," Cor said with a smile as Bree and Hwin passed through the castle walls and out into the mountain meadow that fronted Anvard.
Bree veered northward, which shouldn't be immediately suspicious. There were many small meadows and side paths that branched off the road to Narnia, all of which were perfectly reasonable destinations for a small group of friends out for an afternoon amble. Nonetheless, if Corin were looking for Cor, it would be best to cross the border as soon as possible. That would turn any attempt to haul Cor and Aravis home into a messy international incident, and Bree was fairly sure that King Lune -- who was generally sensible for a human -- wouldn't push the issue that far.
As soon as the castle walls vanished beyond the trees and the shoulder of the hills, Bree broke into a trot. Hwin kept pace beside him. To Narnia and the North!
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Back to Mending Wall
Forward to The Beating of Our Hearts
Read the final version on ff.net. (Trust me, you want to read the final version. The journal version is a beta draft, with all the boneheaded mistakes that implies.)
---------------------------------------------
The next chapter will be in Aravis's POV again and should, with any luck, continue the theme of things actually happening. *crosses fingers*
Cor is Bree's boy and has been since Bree stole him from Calormen. Of course Bree will help him run away again. (1,675 words)
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You Can Choose Your Friends
---------------------------------------------
Bree's main reason for visiting Anvard was, as always, to spend time with Cor. Hwin and Aravis were also friends -- dear, close friends -- but Cor was his boy: the one Bree had snatched from a wretched hovel, taught to ride, and set free to run as he never could have done away from his native range in the North. And something was definitely amiss between Cor and Aravis, no matter how much Cor claimed he hadn't done anything to mortally offend the girl, which meant Bree ought to be giving Cor a listening ear and solid shoulder to lean on.
It was therefore doubly frustrating that Cor had given him the slip. Bree huffed and stamped a back hoof at the base of the tower to which he'd tracked Cor. Archenland was saner about Talking Beasts than any country save Narnia, but large sections of Anvard were nonetheless designed for bipeds, not for people with four legs, hooves, and a bit of difficulty negotiating tight spiral stairs in narrow stone walls.
"Inconsiderate, I call it," Bree said to himself, and snorted.
Well, Cor and his overly loud womb-brother couldn't stay on the battlements forever, and there was a possibility Hwin might have returned from her audience with King Lune. In any case, Bree ought, as a loyal Narnian, to take the chance to speak with Lady Eena, the donkey jenny who kept a weather eye on Calormen in addition to acting as Ambassador Cereus's deputy. She appreciated his knowledge of various Tarkaans and the petty failings they had let slip in his presence, thinking themselves observed only by a dumb animal.
Thus resolved, Bree ambled through Anvard's lower halls and courtyards toward the guest stables, nodding absently to various Archenlanders he passed.
When he reached the stables, he found Hwin and Aravis tucked away in the half-privacy of the back corner. They were deep in conversation, voices rising and falling in agitated murmurs as if they were trying to stifle an argument. Bree waited for Hwin to notice him, then stamped a hoof and whickered to draw her attention. "Ahem."
Hwin's head jerked up, her eye rolling briefly in startlement. Then she heaved a deep breath and said, "It's only Bree, Aravis, do put your sword away."
The girl slid her blade back into the scabbard and slumped in her seat, leaning against the stone wall in an attitude of despair. "It's hopeless," she pronounced. "I know how these things go. The western provinces have had centuries to reconcile themselves to their place in the empire, but they still rebel every generation. The people of Archenland are no less proud. I won't be the cause of war. I'll release Cor from the dance and leave Anvard tomorrow."
Bree cast Hwin a puzzled look over the girl's head. Hwin curled her lip back and pointedly sniffed the air.
Bree drew in a deep breath, wondering what Hwin was on about, and promptly sneezed. Oh. So that was how it was, eh? He'd thought Cor was simply growing up, as humans did, not that he'd fixed his attention on a particular girl. Good for him! He and Aravis would suit each other nicely, in Bree's estimation.
But evidently the humans had got things tangled, as usual, if Aravis was going on about wars and escapes. Time for more sensible people to step in and set things right.
"I doubt anyone would go to war over something as small (or as welcome) as you and Cor mating with each other," Bree said, walking over to his friends. "Even if you're planning to run away, I hope you intend to tell him first so he can come along. We can make an adventure of it, all four of us."
"Like old times," Hwin added, brushing her nose against Aravis's shoulder. "Don't be so quick to discount Cor or yourself. Remember that the king is on your side, though he can't set aside the law."
"Law?" Bree asked, and found himself deluged by a tirade against the blind nationalistic prejudice of Archenland's Great Council, Lune's foolishness for not using his moral authority to sway his countrymen, and Cor's cowardly hope that if he held his breath until he and Aravis were old and decrepit the issue might simply slink and starve to death in the tall grass. Behind Aravis's strung-tight shoulders, Hwin sighed, gripped a scoop between her teeth, and began transferring dried oats from a storage trough to a pair of feed bags.
Eventually Aravis wound herself down to a simmer.
Bree bumped her gently with his shoulder. "It's a pickle," he agreed. "I don't think running away is the right answer, though -- or at least not running away on your own. If you and Cor run off, that will prove that you're serious and Archenland shouldn't take him for granted. I know I'd rather have him for a king than his brother."
Aravis laughed in startled humor. "Who wouldn't! Corin's fun, and not nearly as stupid as he likes people to think, but he hasn't the patience to rule."
"Corin has no patience at all," Cor said, nearly startling Bree into a kick. By the Lion's Mane, when had he entered the stable, let alone walked up nearly close enough to touch Bree's tail? Clearly Bree hadn't been paying enough attention.
Cor was carrying a lumpy leather bag that looked as if he'd packed it blindly in the dark -- which comparison Bree could make with authority, having seen several such bags in their escape north from Calormen. He held two saddles awkwardly balanced on his left shoulder, making him list to the right. Now he dumped them and the satchel on the floor of the guest stable before picking the top saddle up properly.
"Corin's going to come after me soon," Cor said, carrying the saddle over to Bree. "If Aravis and I run away, will you carry us?"
"Of course!" said Bree. "We were just wondering if you'd come with us." Hwin nodded in agreement.
Aravis rolled her eyes. "The horses were; I wasn't. Are you so highhanded now that you don't think to ask me if I want to go with you?" Aravis demanded, but she was picking up the other saddle as she spoke, so Bree didn't put much stock in her protest.
"Sorry. We can split up once we're over the pass into Narnia, if you'd rather I release you," Cor said as he draped the saddle over Bree's back and began buckling the straps under his belly. Bree obligingly let out his breath a bit to make it easier for his boy to reach. Saddles were annoying, but they did help distribute a rider's weight, and if Cor was going to get anywhere mating with Aravis, it would be best not to have him sore and rubbed raw in delicate places by the time they reached Narnia.
"It would be awkward to find your father for the proper response, so you can take his role and strike me down if you'd like," Cor continued. "It's your right. I've been weaseling out on you for nearly two months now."
"Don't be an idiot," Aravis snapped, tightening the straps of the other saddle around Hwin. "I knew you were a sop when I opened the dance. I'm hardly going to kill you just when you've started acting sensibly."
Cor handed her the leather bag in response. She loosened the drawstring and peered inside while he hooked the newly filled feedbags to Hwin's and Bree's saddles. Aravis made a face. "Bread and hard cheese," she grumbled. "What is it with northerners and cheese?"
"It's portable," Cor said, stuffing a comb and brush into an empty feedbag and tying that to Bree's saddle as well.
"So is dried fruit, which has the added benefit of not making your breath taste sour when I kiss you," Aravis said. She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder.
"You can find fruit in Narnia," Hwin said in a conciliating tone.
"Exactly," Cor agreed. "Hurry up, everyone. We need to be gone before Corin thinks to check the castle gate and warn the guards that I'm leaving." He strode toward the stable door, pushing it open and letting the wide, warm beams of afternoon sunlight stream through and make the dusty air sparkle.
Bree and Hwin exchanged a look over Aravis's head -- humans always made simple things so complicated -- and followed Cor out into the courtyard. Cor and Aravis mounted efficiently and the horses headed for the gatehouse at a brisk walk. Anvard's gates stood open from sunup to sundown in times of peace, and the guards stood watch not for fear of attack but so one could accompany and announce guests. In point of fact, the pair on duty that afternoon were sitting on a bench with their pikes leaning against the heavy gate, laughing breathlessly at the conclusion of some old war story.
One recovered his breath enough to stand and bow as the little party passed them. "Out for a picnic?" he called.
"We may be a while. Don't hold the gates open for us," Cor said with a smile as Bree and Hwin passed through the castle walls and out into the mountain meadow that fronted Anvard.
Bree veered northward, which shouldn't be immediately suspicious. There were many small meadows and side paths that branched off the road to Narnia, all of which were perfectly reasonable destinations for a small group of friends out for an afternoon amble. Nonetheless, if Corin were looking for Cor, it would be best to cross the border as soon as possible. That would turn any attempt to haul Cor and Aravis home into a messy international incident, and Bree was fairly sure that King Lune -- who was generally sensible for a human -- wouldn't push the issue that far.
As soon as the castle walls vanished beyond the trees and the shoulder of the hills, Bree broke into a trot. Hwin kept pace beside him. To Narnia and the North!
---------------------------------------------
Back to Mending Wall
Forward to The Beating of Our Hearts
Read the final version on ff.net. (Trust me, you want to read the final version. The journal version is a beta draft, with all the boneheaded mistakes that implies.)
---------------------------------------------
The next chapter will be in Aravis's POV again and should, with any luck, continue the theme of things actually happening. *crosses fingers*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 12:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 09:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 07:18 pm (UTC)I was going to say that running away won't solve their problems but then... well, running away in Calormen did solve a few issues. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 09:44 pm (UTC)I don't think Talking Horses grasp the concept of monogamous marriage very well. I mean, they know that's how a lot of humans work, so they're all in favor of their friends finding people they want to mate with, but they think that once you've found the right person it's silly to keep complicating the issue.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 08:37 am (UTC)You know, I'm also curious who is Monarch of Narnia....
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 09:32 pm (UTC)I have always loved Bree. He is the kind of character who could so easily tip over into flat-out annoying, yet there's something charming about his self-importance. I am not quite sure how Lewis managed that, but it's a good trick!
I'm glad you liked Cor here. His entrance was the point where I got stuck for a long time, because I wasn't sure how he'd present the whole "I made you a promise and I'm going to keep it even if it costs me my country and family; let's run away again" thing to Aravis. As it turns out, he only got around to making half of that explicit. The rest will come out in the next chapter.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 03:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-17 09:34 pm (UTC)