#king lune

[ladyminaofcamelot]

King Lune told Corin not to pick fights with people weaker than him cause that makes him a bully but if he wants to pick fights with someone bigger and get beat up that's his perogative and Corin really said "okay" then went off to pick a fight with a bear, huh.

[writerxwren]

Honestly I feel like King Lune just gave up on managing Corin at some point and that's why he's just passing him off to the Pevensies like "here you take him on an international field trip, he needs enrichment" but then the enrichment consists of him switching places with his lookalike (whom he doesn't even ask questions about) so he can go gallivanting around a foreign country causing chaos wherever he goes. The field trip strategy didn't work and if anything he's just worse now

[mary-maud]

For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there's hunger in the land (as must be now and then in bad years) to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.

C. S. Lewis, The Horse and his Boy

[rainintheevening]

Envoys to Archenland

Rumours and stories had already come trickling and flying over the passes to Anvard, mostly through the Narnians who had once fled the Witch’s winter.

But still it was a surprise when a page came into breakfast with a letter of introduction from:

"Sir Renard and the raven Carrisol, Envoys of Their Majesties the Kings and Queens of Narnia."

King Lune raised his eyebrows at his wife. "Kings and queens? Whatever can they mean?"

"What sort of person is this Sir Renard?" Queen Celeste asked the page boy, still standing by the table.

"He is a fox, your majesty."

A fox he certainly was, when they met him in the throne room an hour later. Sleek and ruddy, keen eyes that surveyed the room, and a confident tilt to his head. The raven hopped beside him, as they both came forward and bowed.

"Your majesties," said the fox, "we come to you in Archenland as envoys sent from Narnia, from the High King Peter, the Queen Susan, the King Edmund, and the Queen Lucy."

"We come in peace and friendship," continued the raven, his croaking voice echoing in the high ceiling, "with hope for the renewal of old treaties, and the return of the goodwill that had long existed between our lands."

"So it is true then!" Queen Celeste leaned forward, her excitement drawing a smile from the king. "The Witch’s reign has ended and the winter is over?"

"Indeed, your majesty." Sir Renard smiled, white teeth gleaming. "Slain by Aslan Himself."

Just the name 'Aslan' caused a thrill to run through the room, and King Lune's heart beat quicker in his breast.

"It was He who called the Four from the Worlds Beyond, and crowned them Lords and Ladies of Cair Paravel, jewel above the eastern sea."

Carrisol hopped in place twice, excitement getting the better of him. "When Aslan bares His teeth, winter meets it's death! So it was written on the High King’s sword, and so it is! This, your majesties, is the age of restoration!"

"Astonishing," Queen Celeste murmured. "Can anyone here recall a time before the reign of the White Witch?"

"A hundred years, and the curse broken." King Lune shook his head in wonderment. He himself had only just reached 30, and his father had died not five years prior having seen less than 80 years. Lune had never visited Narnia, only heard the terrible stories from a handful of Narnian creatures who had escaped to join the Archen court.

"And so in peace and friendship we welcome you," he said aloud. "We will hear the whole story at luncheon, if you will take it with us."

"Certainly, your majesties." Both fox and raven bowed low.

"But briefly." Queen Celeste leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of her. "These kings and queens. There are four of them you said? How is this possible? Who are they? What are they like?"

A laugh from the fox, quickly stifled by a swift peck from the raven.

"Ah, pardon, your highness." Sir Renard regained his dignity with a quick shake of his body. "They are brothers and sisters, called from another world into this land to sit in the four thrones at Cair Paravel, and rule us by Aslan's decree."

"But what are they like?"

King Lune did not try to hide his own smile, but he too was eager for a clearer picture of these new monarchs.

Renard and Carrisol looked at one another for a moment, before the raven tilted his head.

"You have known them since the first days, Renard."

The fox sat back on his haunches, thoughtful. "They are young, your majesties. The eldest has seen but sixteen winters. They are not royalty in their own world, and have a lot to learn of rulership and courtly business. As do we all," he added, with a rueful grin. "So we learn together. And truly these half-grown cubs are... extraordinary.

"The High King Peter is a fierce protector, brave and quick to act. His heart is great, his sight is keen, and his sword is sharp. Even in these few months, he has loved us and our land with his sweat and his blood and his tears. He is one I would follow into the very fires of the Underworld."

"So would we all!" croaked Carrisol fervently.

"The Queen Susan, now," Renard went on. "Gentle Aslan called her, and gentle her hands can be. She is the motherly one, making sure all are heard and cared for, and very much the mistress of the castle. But she has no little skill with a bow, and does not hesitate to defend her family when her gentle words have failed."

He fell quiet then, eyes cast down for long enough to cause unease to creep into the room, but he raised his head as Queen Celeste drew in her breath to speak.

"His Majesty, King Edmund is wise beyond his years, swift to see that which is not shown, and hear that which is not said. His story is his own to tell, but I can say that though he followed after the Witch in the first days of their coming to Narnia, he learned the error of his way, and was restored by Aslan, showing great bravery in the Battle of Beruna against the Witch. He is his brother's beloved right hand, and shows mercy in ways I do not think I ever could. He too would I follow wherever he might ask."

There was something in the fox's tone that Celeste could not understand, something suggestive of far more than was said. But her heart squeezed with sympathy for a boy gone astray and brought back. She wondered who their parents were, and if they still lived in that other world.

"As for our Queen Lucy," and Renard's voice lightened, "why her laughter makes the trees dance. She is small, but strong in hope. She is like a light, and she brings healing wherever she goes. She cares for all, even the smallest, most forgotten creatures, and all love her in return."

"Indeed we do!" agreed Carrisol.

"They do sound extraordinary," said King Lune after a respectful pause. "We look forward to hearing more at the noon hour."

"Indeed, your majesties." Both bowed low again. "King Lune, Queen Celeste."

As they were shown out of the audience chamber to rejoin their centaur escorts in the courtyard, the raven Carrisol was heard to remark, "Very nice, decent people they are."

And Sir Renard answered, "Indeed. I think the Four will be very glad to know them."

[liminal-zone]

little lady, we bid you very heartily welcome

I wrote a teeny thing! A million years ago (in 2006)! Slightly remixed. Just posting it here!

title: through a father’s eyes

fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Horse and His Boy | characters: Kidrash Tarkaan, King Lune

rated: gen | tagged: dads gotta dad, heartache, canon-typical problematic word choice, drabble-ish

summary: a letter arrives for Kidrash Tarkaan, with news unexpected. 

The letter arrived mid-day, tucked in with the rest of the notices. Sorting through the pale papers of state and business, he chose first to open the one with strange lettering about it. The paper had a slight fragrance of honey and a perfume unknown to him. Within a moment he could tell that it was from those elusive barbarians in the North as the script and choice of words only mimicked that of the great scribes of the Tisroc (may he live forever), for the style was not quite right. 

But the style was close enough to be of great interest. 

He, who had so little to do with the affairs between nations, what sort of business would those barbarians have with him? Before reading, he took a sip of wine and spoke a prayer to Tash, dispelling the evil spirits that might inhabit the sheaf of paper.

And he read.

"Lune, by the gift of Aslan, by birth, by prescription, King over Archenland, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion to Kidrash Tarkaan, lord and master over the province of Calavar in the Realm of Calormen, our most glorious neighbor:

In the name of the Lion, be it known to you that my son and heir, Prince Cor, has signed a contract of marriage between himself and the Lady Aravis, known to you as your eldest daughter, Aravis Tarkeenna. Her remarkable valor, renowned intelligence, and beauty which illuminates the universe have proven her to be a worthy future queen over all my lands and peoples. The Great Lion has spoken the Words over her, and marked her as His people. The Lady Aravis is deeply loved by the prince, and I believe that she returns his love, thread for thread from her heart. Their happiness brings delight to my eyes and peace to my heart. 

May it be known that I do not ask for the dowry of your daughter, nor do I ask for your blessing over this marriage. 

However, I feel that is it most honorable to tell you the fortune of the eldest surviving issue of your flesh. I of all fathers know the cruel challenge when the fate of your offspring is unknown.

I commit you to the care of your gods and may the breath of Aslan be upon you and yours."

Within the envelope is a sheet of paper bearing a drawing in the Northern style, featuring a beautiful young woman. She is in strange clothing and she is dancing, her hands in the particular motion known to all who venerate Tash – the inexorable, the irresistible – as a joyous celebration of union. A wedding dance on foreign soil. The artist had drawn her merry, and her eyes are unmistakably those of Aravis, for they are identical to Kidrash’ first wife (may her soul find rest in the many arms of Tash). A crowned barbarian is drawn dancing with her in the stance of a Calormen bridegroom. 

He found it hard to look at. 

His daughter, his strange unknowable daughter. Lost to these people, to be their anointed queen. And yet, it is celebrated that she dances in this manner. Still a daughter of Great Calormen. 

Kidrash read the letter twice over before throwing it and the drawing into the fire. And in the morning, he had his war horse saddled and packed for long journey.

[knightofthenewrepublic]

[tenth-sentence]

"But Sha— Cor, I mean – you haven't told me anything yet about King Lune and how he found out who you were."

"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Horse and His Boy" - C. S. Lewis

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Then the King set him down again and said, "Stand here together, boys, and let all the court see you. Hold up your heads. Now, gentlemen, look on them both. Has any man any doubts?"

"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Horse and His Boy" - C. S. Lewis