[Fic] "Silence at the Proper Season" -- Chronicles of Narnia

[edenfalling]

rthstewart requested: Narnia, Cor and Aravis meeting Ilgamuth and Shezan

While in Tashbaan, Cor and Aravis receive two invitations from Shezan and Ilgamuth: one to a ritual, one to a conversation. The latter is more dangerous. (1,800 words)

[The slightly revised and extended final version is now up on AO3!]

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Silence at the Proper Season
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Cor had never been particularly religious as a child, though he had poured water to beg Sokda's favor on his father out at sea, drawn Azaroth's eye over the windows and sprinkled ash at the door during the Winter Festival, and other minor everyday rituals. And Archenland and Narnia built no holy places that Calormenes would recognize; their worship, such as it was, centered on spots of natural beauty, marked by nothing more than a heap of stones or an apple tree bedecked with wishing strings and the marks of claw and talon.

Aravis, though, was a child of shrines and temples, and Tashbaan was the foothold of the gods on earth. When Shezan Tolkheera invited them to observe the morning rite at the inner shrine of Achadith's temple, Aravis accepted without a second thought.

The invocation began when the lower edge of the sun's disc lifted clear of the horizon, which was just after the start of the first hour at this time of year. Or just past six o'clock, to use the northern count. It was eerie how easily he fell back into the patterns of his childhood, back in the country that had shaped him.

Now he stood in a skylit chamber tiled in blue and gold as the pale light of dawn slowly overpowered the flicker of torches; splashed water on his forehead, his hands, his bare feet; and asserted his humility before the goddess, repeating each phrase in unison with his wife, one breath after an initiate gave them the words. Achadith was not his queen, but he respected her power. There was no shame in admitting his weakness before any god's strength.

Purification complete, Cor and Aravis followed the initiate into the inner shrine.

Shezan Tolkheera had not waited for them. She spun slowly as she chanted, tight clockwise circles that linked into a greater counterclockwise spiral around and in toward the statue of Achadith at the heart of the shrine. After each line she clapped her hands, accompanied by the chime of tiny bells. The words were strange: one string of syllables that seemed nothing but garbled nonsense repeated over and over between the proper lines of the song, a hymn to the risen sun that broke the reign of night.

He leaned down and murmured into Aravis's ear, "Do you know what--"

"Yes, and so do you. 'Let light pierce the darkness; let night retreat from dawn,'" Aravis murmured back. "I asked a priestess once, before my mother died. The true old words, from beyond this world, are a secret for the gods and their sworn servants alone, but everyone knows the prayer. Even peasants from a village too small to need a name."

"'Let darkness pierce the light; let day retreat from dusk,'" Cor said, remembering Arsheesh's voice as the old fisherman muttered the invocations each day when he opened the door in the morning and closed it again at night.

Aravis ground her heel into his toes. "Don't disrupt the prayer."

"I doubt I have the power to make Achadith forget what time of day it is," Cor grumbled, but he fell obediently silent and watched the Tolkheera as she dropped gracefully to her knees before the statue, bent to press her hands and head to the floor, and held her position, prostrate, for a count of nine. Then she rose and began a new invocation, this one less repetitive and sacred -- in clear words, though ornate, she thanked Achadith for showing favor to Idrath World-Conqueror at the birth of Calormen, for the life and growth of the empire, and for the continuation of the line of Tash's blood on earth.

Cor tried to keep his face blank. Rejoicing in the natural world was one thing. Rejoicing in the strength of an empire that often set its face against his own land and people was another entirely, and no matter that he would always love Calormen as his childhood home, Archenland was the country he had chosen, and the one he would defend to his last breath if need be. He wondered what Aravis felt, but knew better than to expect any outward sign beyond appreciation for the Tolkheera's grace and enunciation.

"You are uncomfortable with this half of the rite," someone said into his left ear.

Cor twitched. Ilgamuth Tarkaan made him somewhat uncomfortable, both because the man had been at Anvard (and lost a hand in the battle), and because unlike most of the Tisroc's court, he seemed to see Cor and Aravis as they were, rather than as a caricature of traitors or barbaric northerners. That perceptiveness could be dangerous, particularly since Ilgamuth had Rabadash's ear and trust.

"Forgive me," Ilgamuth Tarkaan continued, his voice low so as not to disrupt the rite. "I mean no disrespect, nor do I accuse you of such. I would be equally ill at ease should I be required to stand politely through a prayer of thanksgiving for any of Archenland's victories in our long struggle. For though all gods are deserving of honor, one man's blessing often comes at another man's cost."

"I suppose it depends on the blessing," Cor said after a moment. "No one can quarrel with peace and good harvests."

Ilgamuth smiled, the motion pulling oddly at the scar twisting up his left cheek from the corner of his mouth. "O my prince, I would dispute that assertion, for truly, some men are never more at peace than when they follow the call to war. But look, my wife has anointed the statue and is returning the bowl to its niche. Let us greet her, return to my chambers in the palace, and spend the morning speaking of easy, pleasant things, which no mind or tongue can turn to spite."

Cor considered that as he watched water drip down the base of the statue into the little reflecting pool. The feet were noticeably worn in comparison to the rest of the stone. He wondered how long before the slow scour of water ate them away to nothing, and what the priestesses would do then. He suspect he shouldn't raise the question.

There were so many questions it would be unwise to raise in Calormen, let alone in Tashbaan and the heart of the empire's strength. He doubted he could spend a whole morning in Ilgamuth's company without stumbling on at least one of them, quite possibly at the other man's design. And yet, he was Aravis's kinsman -- Ilgamuth's sister had married Aravis's cousin last year -- which made it difficult to refuse the invitation.

"I would dispute that any truly innocuous things exist outside of Aslan's country," Cor said slowly.

"That may, alas, be true," Ilgamuth said. "Even love can turn to hate, or victory to defeat, in the space between two beats of a single heart. Shall we let that deter us from the attempt?"

"Of course not," said Aravis, leaning around Cor to favor Ilgamuth with a blade-sharp smile of her own. "I suggest, however, that we agree beforehand to keep well away from religion, politics, war, history, and horses. That should remove the most obvious ambushes."

"Dare I ask?" Shezan Tolkheera inquired as she walked over to her husband's side, the bells around her wrists chiming faintly as she reached up to tidy her unbound hair.

Ilgamuth looked over at Cor and Aravis. "Do not be fooled; she always dares. The question is whether I should answer."

Shezan Tolkheera shook her head, face serious and set. "O my husband and the light of my eyes," she began, "stop provoking our guests. Rabadash can and will do that well enough on his own, come the morrow."

Cor took a second to separate the meaning of her words from their formal pattern and tone. Then he blinked.

"That may, alas, also be true," Ilgamuth Tarkaan said, his voice wry and fond.

Cor blinked again.

"We will also keep well away from Rabadash, both verbally and physically," Aravis said. "With that stipulation, we accept your hospitality, which I presume will include a meal as well as conversation."

"I had thought to substitute poetry and thus nourish our souls rather than our bodies--" Ilgamuth began, but Shezan interrupted.

"There will be breakfast," she said firmly. "Now, tell me what you thought of the ritual: I did not invite you to watch dumbly like stones, but to learn how our our worship compares to the reverence the northerners give the Lion. I realize you are not a true test, since you were raised in Calormen rather than among our enemies, but if our peoples are to live in peace, we must learn to understand one another and I have nowhere better to begin."

Cor glanced at Aravis. This was everything they had agreed with Ilgamuth to avoid, for fear of awkwardness and anger, and yet the Tolkheera had a point.

All friendship had to begin somewhere -- one open hand clasping another, establishing a narrow bridge of trust. Perhaps it would come to nothing, whether in one day when they spoke with Rabadash or one generation when they died, but perhaps they could build something that would last. And even one day of peace was better than an unbroken war.

"The first hymn, to dawn, is unlike anything in the north," Cor said after a long silence. "Our ancestors brought no sacred languages from other worlds, and nobody save Aslan knows the speech in which the Deep Magic is written on the Stone Table in Narnia, or on the World Ash Tree in the uttermost west. But we know the joy of welcoming light after darkness the same as any people in any world."

"No sacred language?" Shezan said, looking utterly fascinated.

"None at all," Aravis said, and began to tell the Tolkheera how strange she had found northern religion in her first years at Anvard.

"Perhaps no topic is truly forbidden, either," Ilgamuth Tarkaan murmured to Cor as they followed their wives toward the arched doorway of the inner shrine.

"That may, luckily, be true," Cor agreed.

He turned for one last glance at the sacred place built by human hands, so different from the high, green wilderness he had grown to love. It was beautiful despite its artificiality -- perhaps even because of the craft that dared to tell nature, "I acknowledge your glory, but I can improve it." And no artifice, however ambitious, could deny the sun itself. The slanting rays, bright as Aslan's mane, shot down through the windows and skylight, dancing upon the waters of the reflecting pool and draping like gold over the goddess in her shrine.

"'Let light pierce the darkness; let night retreat from dawn,'" he said, unsure which god he spoke to.

Perhaps it didn't matter.

In the end, they both could hear.

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End

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That ended up with a much heavier religious tone than I expected, but then again, Shezan is a priestess and a true believer; I should probably adjust my expectations whenever she's involved in a fic.

Comments

[autumnia]

This was lovely!!! I love all the little things Cor noticed in the temple, during the ritual and seeing his inner thoughts about Shezan and Ilgamuth. He was very perceptive on how Ilgamuth is so different from the other Tarkaans that he's met before.

Alas, Ilgamuth lost his hand during the seige at Anvard! But at least Shezan still loves him and they've finally wed. And I really liked how the two men somewhat bonded, just as their wives did. The relationships between these two couples see remarkably similar in their own way. :-)

[edenfalling]

I want to add more of those little things! I wrote this in a mad rush last night once I finally admitted the previous ficlet was inherently unwritable until I finish "A Change of Season," so I didn't have time to go back and add more sensory details, like incense and smoke and the ceilings and, oh, all kinds of things. But anyway, I am glad the pieces that did make it to the page worked for you.

Yeah, Ilgamuth loses his hand at Anvard. I decided that, hmmm, two years ago? The Hermit mentions him going down, which implies a really devastating injury, but I also needed him to be mobile and coherent within a week or two of the battle. I figured amputation was the best compromise. (I also occasionally subscribe to the theory that when you love a character, you should figure out the worst possible thing that could happen to her or him... and then make it happen. In this case, I killed a bunch of Ilgamuth's friends and rendered his former path in life -- Rabadash's soldier -- completely out of reach, so he can't fall back on that for comfort.)

There is a certain similarity between the two couples; I will not deny that. :-)

[branchandroot]

The religious parts are infinitely cool, because worldbuilding. But I have to admit, what I love best is Shezan scolding Ilgamuth for teasing the guests, all perfectly formal and straight-faced but she might as well have baffed him over the head.

[edenfalling]

I have a lot of fun with Shezan and Ilgamuth. :-) They go through a bad patch immediately post-HHB, for a whole bunch of intersecting reasons, but by this point they are very solid in their relationship.

I think I keep coming back to religion in the Narnian world because I cannot accept Lewis's own theology, and yet I can't bring myself to outright call Aslan a jerk, or to depower him. BUT! I don't think Lewis ever said in canon that the Emperor was the ONLY true god (even in TLB, weirdly enough), so I have just enough wiggle room to admit Aslan as the creator of the Narnian world without going full Christianity (of whatever flavor). And hell, even if you equate Aslan to Jesus, that just creates more wiggle room, because there are TONS of deities in our world that have just as much validity (or lack thereof) as the Christian one/s. Who's to say they haven't created other universes of their own, lurking under the infinite pools in the Wood Between the Worlds?

Also, for a Christian semi-allegory, there is amazingly little organized religion in Narnia-the-country. I didn't notice as a kid, because I didn't notice the Christianity, but once I caught on to what Lewis was doing, that struck me as very strange and in need of exploration.

[heliopausa]

Something similar has struck me - not so much about the lack of organised religion in Narnia, as that the thing that looks closest to a sign of it, Aslan's How, is a place with very negative associations. I have wondered how deliberate this might be (of Lewis) - how much he might have felt that the whole huge structure of organised religion actually gets in the way of relating to God. ( The church as a Bad Idea.)

I have vague inklings of fic about that, about Aslan's How as negative, not about the church, but in the meantime,I wrote some head-canon about it.
(http://heliopausa.dreamwidth.org/15335.html)
I'd love it if you took a look. I posted it on 29 November, but didn't get any response at all, here or LJ, which was dispiriting.

[edenfalling]

I have left you a comment with some thoughts!

[heliopausa]

Thank you! :) And for all the rest!

[branchandroot]

Lewis' religious arrangements are /truly/ bizarre. On the one hand, he practically beats you over the head with the Aslan = Jesus, here is Calvary to demonstrate that part. And then he also throws in Classical gods right and left, and what few mentions there are of religious observances are way more Classical mystery cult than anything else! And that's before he even gets around to being appallingly racist about Asian-ish gods. *waves hands helplessly* A free-for-all world creation gig makes at least as much sense as anything else.

[rthstewart]

Oh Sheezan, you are fabulous. I just love how she teases Ilgamuth and I ADORE how Aravis is so ruthlessly practical -- we won't discuss religion, politics, war, history, and HORSES. Oh no, Aravis, I want to hear you all discussing horses very much.

Your worldbuilding is of course wonderful. What I really like is what this does to me as a reader. I adore Sheezan and Ilgamuth but they are patriotic and loyal to a country that is the enemy of Aravis and Cor. I love how conflicted this makes me. No! don't be enemies. I want you all to go back for breakfast and spend all day talking about religion, politics, and horses.

Thank you so much

[edenfalling]

I want to hear them discuss horses too! (And I may write that someday, actually.)

That conflict between "I like them!" and "they are the enemy!" is part of what I have been trying to do with my Calormene characters since "Out of Season," if only because I think shades of gray are more interesting than cardboard Good and Evil heroes and villains. (They are definitely more interesting to write -- teasing, ruthless practicality, patriotism, and all.) I am glad that it is working. :-)

[heliopausa]

I like this very much indeed, both the lovely world-building of the ritual (and the temple!) and the domesticity and getting to grips with the serious questions of how to build peace.

[edenfalling]

The first half of the morning ritual is new for this fic; the second half is taken directly from the opening scene of "Out of Season," because there is no sense reinventing the wheel. :-) The sacred language business is there because I have an ongoing interest in Narnian linguistics -- a world with a true universal language that experiences no linguistic drift is downright bizarre, you see, particularly when many of the people living in that world by all rights should have brought their own, very different, languages with them... and yet they all speak perfect English even amongst themselves. Clearly the Deep Magic is involved. And yet, if vestiges of former languages are going to survive anywhere (outside of minor things like titles and the sound patterns of names), religion is the most likely place, particularly if one postulates that the gods in question take direct interest in preserving a few words and phrases.

I am going to force Rabadash to earn his title of Peacemaker, both in internal Calormene affairs and external diplomatic relations. Obviously his peace with the north doesn't last forever, but I am pretty sure it's one of the factors that makes Ram the Great's reign in Archenland so prosperous. Wars are hideously expensive, but in peacetime all that money can be spent on other things.

[heliopausa]

Yes, re the language question. I have partly (in my head) linked this with the role of Frank in the creation of Narnia (as I have the jumble of mythical creatures).

I am very interested in Rabadash the Peacemaker, and in his relations with Ram the Great - whose greatness may lie other than in making Archenland prosperous, and possibly lies precisely in his part in the peacemaking. Despite what I recently wrote in the three-sentence fiction, I want very much for Rabadash to achieve his own greatness along the lines I hinted in "The Meeting of Three Powers", (but there it's only hinted as a bare beginning) - where he undertakes his own transformation into great-heartedness and generosity and constructing a peaceful society. (Unfortunately we're pretty much stuck with the slavery. Though I guess the dealers in VDT might only be rogue dealers, not reflecting the wider Calormene situation? Like arms dealers today?)
And yes, re the expense of war. :(

I really look forward to reading more of all this!

[edenfalling]

I don't really plan for Rabadash to ever achieve great-heartedness and generosity, at least not by modern Western standards. I like him too much as a character who makes massive changes to his country despite or even because of his flaws. For instance, a bunch of the social reorganization I have him undertake during his reign -- not to mention the peace with the north -- is specifically to put Calormen on a more secure and prosperous internal footing so his heirs can attack Calormen's southern neighbors after his death. Because at that time, Kutu is a much bigger threat and a more weighty historical enemy than Archenland or Narnia, being another great empire rather than a small mountain or valley country. So the continuation of slavery is not such a headache for me, because I'm not trying to change Rabadash into a person who would see slavery as any kind of problem.

[heliopausa]

What great fun to be writing a character who is planning for what his heirs will do (so few rulers/politicians do, gloom, gloom). Or do you mean that it's not conscious planning, but the impact of what he does for other reasons? (Personally, I think there's a lot of prosperity possibly inherent in the switch from a war(raiding?)-based economy to a trade-based one, following the prohibition on R. leaving Tashbaan.) I don't know Kutu - I'll have to read up!

[edenfalling]

I'm not sure Rabadash was planning for future wars, but since he couldn't afford civil war any more than foreign wars, he did a bunch of reorganization of Calormen's military to make it a truly national thing (rather than a bunch of private armies led by regional lords) and also a bunch of work to make the justice and taxation systems more coherent and less corrupt so as to stave off potential unrest. His own goal was probably to stay in power, but that doesn't change the fact that he did a lot of good and also handed his successor a much stronger and less fractious army.

I have been assuming that Calormen already has a vast and diversified economy -- it's a side-effect of the country's sheer size and geographical variation, if nothing else. There always has been a lot of trade, regardless of wars. I mean, maybe you don't trade with the country you're currently fighting, but you can't fight everybody at once. (And without an official embargo of some sort, Calormene merchants probably do trade with whoever they're currently fighting -- perhaps through middlemen, if necessary, but if you can only get product X from country Y, you're going to trade with country Y whatever the Tisroc and Tarkaans may be doing.)

Kutu is non-canonical. I decided that there must be lands south of Calormen -- pseudo-equatorial lands, to mirror the pseudo-arctic lands north of Narnia -- and Kutu is the biggest one. It's Calormen's main rival until two or three centuries post-LWW. At that point Calormen finally captures Angyoko, Kutu's capital, and the non-occupied remnants of the Kutulese empire split into three independent nations. There should be more in some of the posts tagged Thoughts on Calormen.

[heliopausa]

Yes, reorganisation and the establishment of internal security and a non-corrupt civil service are TOTALLY the keys to ... I was going to say national greatness (thinking of the Moghul emperor Akbar, but Charlemagne works as well) but in fact they are the keys to good quality of life for those living in a nation, whether it's called 'great' or not. I am TOTALLY, personally, in love with how important a functioning, non-corrupt civil service is, and feel sadly, that we are living in a time (in Australia at least, but I suspect elsewhere as well) where such is being appallingly undermined, white-anted by politicians. :( Errr... sorry for the burst of RL angst.

Of course I knew Kutu was non-canonical! :D And will read up on the non-canon with great pleasure. :) I have trifled with the southern lands myself, but only with small ones, like Teebeth (by HHB conquered and rebadged as a Calormene province).