#narniaexchange

Lucy’s hair was obviously wind-blown from the crisp east wind that had greeted them this morning from off the sea, and Susan wasted no time pulling spare pins from her hair (she was always sure to have extra) so that she could quickly pin the bits of Lucy’s hair that had come free of Tithorea’s careful braiding and styling.

     Lucy patiently withstood the fussing, but she looked anything but chastised by her sister’s words, “But Susan, a Terebinthian trading ship came into port this morning! So of course I had to go down to greet the captain and such, and oh they’ve brought the most lovely daggers with them for trade, and I wanted to be sure I could buy the very best of them as gifts for Edmund and Peter. I came as soon as the First Mate was so gracious as to promise to save the finest of them for me to look over first in case I wanted to buy any.” She knew, of course, that neither Peter nor Edmund (nor herself, in all honesty) would ever carry a foreign made dagger over a Narnian one—Edmund probably couldn’t even conceive of bearing a blade not forged of Narnian metal in the smithery run by the particular group of black dwarfs he himself had reconciled with Narnia. But Lucy thought that perhaps her brothers would appreciate them as fine pieces of art, to perhaps be hung on bedroom walls or the like.

     Susan sighed again, “I’m glad, Lu, truly, but surely it couldn’t have taken all that long to convince the man?” she asked, though it was clear from her tone she’d already given up on any future scolding. After all, the only reason that Peter and Edmund hadn’t been just as tardy as Lucy (if not more so) was because Susan had physically pulled them away from their game of chess on the balcony outside Edmund’s study. Not that she was going to admit as much to Lucy. “Never mind. Are you ready?” she asked, even as one of the young Rabbits of Lucy’s aids dashed forward to shake a bit of dust and sand out of the hem of Lucy’s gown.

     The young Queen beamed her thanks to the Rabbit and nodded to Susan. “Of course, public audience, here we come!” The fifteen year old wasn’t entirely thrilled by the prospect of just sitting in place for a few hours, but such audiences were always brimming with all sorts of lovely subjects to meet with, so she didn’t mind too terribly.

     The boys were waiting in a similar room on the other side of their thrones, and a quick peek out showed them ready so that at Susan’s cue both pairs of monarchs entered from each side, ascending the few steps and settling themselves into much-familiar thrones. Their court was already assembled—General Oreius, Lord Perdian, Wihnoora of the Wolves (who had retreated back across Narnia’s western boarder during the time of the Witch), Mr. Tumus of the Fauns, the Centauress Hylomone (wearing her designation of Captain proud across her arm), and Fairsight of the Eagles all lined the sides of the hall in the places nearest their monarchs. Beyond them was a gathering of subjects all in a rough line that meandered back through the long hall.

     Peter stood to survey the crowd (large, but not unmanageable like it could be some weeks). Upon which Hazen, the Squirrel who was in charge of keeping at least a general sort of order too these audiences, gave the High King a nod, confirming that the diligent Squirrel had managed to get a sensible list of everyone present who wished to speak. “Good, my People,” Peter began solemnly and yet with a proud smile, his bearing very much grown man and faithful King with Edmund silent and sober on one side, Susan soft and gentle on the other, and Lucy happy and bright just past her. “It is right for rulers to speak face to face to those with whom they live.” Peter continued in his greeting, “We invite you come.” He made the Narnian gesture of welcome, arm held up and then brought in to his chest with a half bow as he resumed his seat.

     There was the usual pause and shuffling of subjects and visitors for a few moments following Peter’s welcome, but to Susan’s utmost surprise it was a human who stepped forward first to offer a bow from the base of the royal dais. He was dressed in the blue, slightly flowing attire of a Terebinthian (which she had at first mistaken for the robes of a young river god) and he carried himself in a way that was somehow confident and yet unassuming at the same time. “Your Majesties,” he began formally, “I am sorry I have not the means I should like to make myself known to you. There are only my own lips to give my linage its voice.” He paused, perhaps to gather himself with the large breath he drew or perhaps for the dramatic effect, “I am Nain, the son of Azor, the son of Horoth, the son of Caharm…” And so it went on and on and on. Susan, who had been particularly interested at the start to see a human, soon permitted herself to tune the whole affair out entirely, her eyes wandering in their boredom until they come to rest upon Lord Perdian. They often did so of late… though she was much embarrassed by this fact would never dare admit it to anyone at all.

     Perdian too—and indeed nearly everyone in the hall—was intent on wishing this genealogy to come to a quick close as it began. And yet as it drew on he found his ears perking and his attention definitively caught. This fellow was giving a genealogy with claims similar to what Perdian’s own blood claimed. This Nain was claiming to be of the Frankish line, a human of Narnian blood---and Narnian blood significantly more royal than what Perdian had in his own veins. He listened in something of stunned shock as the linage went back and back until it intersected with the royal Frankish line a mere three generations prior to the arrival of the White Witch and her subsequent slaughter of the Narnian monarchs of that day and all those near enough by blood to likely attempt to lay claim to the throne. But since any Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve had more claim to Narnia’s throne than Jadis the rest of Narnia’s humans had been forced to flee, and Perdian’s (and apparently Nain’s) great-great-great-grandfather had been forced to flee with them, taking refuge in Archenland. Perdian had always heard, growing up, that he had relatives who had fled as far a distance to Terebinthia and even further places, but he had never actually met such a relative. Until now it seemed.

     This realization wrought a profound change on Perdian’s face (upon which Susan was still gazing) and it was this unfamiliar expression which jerked her attention back to the present moment. By this point even Susan recognized some of the names that flew by as the Terebinthian-dressed Narnian resolutely persevered on through the mountain of names: King Gale, Queen Swanwhite, all the way on to King Col and the Five Franks. Most of the Narnia’s where no doubt awed by this human’s bloodlines---though Lucy and a few others were perhaps even more impressed by the sheer feat of memorization that Nain’s recitation had been---and a stunned silence fell across the room.

     It was Peter was recovered himself first, standing abruptly from his seat and marching down to Nain without hesitation to pull the man into a warm hug. “Welcome, brother,” he declared in a deep, resounding tone, as the rest of the hall murmured their agreement and appreciation for the gesture. It was hardly surprising that Lucy rushed down quickly after her brother to give the newcomer a hug of her own. Susan and Edmund stood form their thrones but held their place, Edmund giving this Nain a solemn incline of his head by was of a greeting in tune with his more reserved nature and Susan giving a little curtsy, since she was now of an age where she found need to be careful in regards to what physical contact she allowed between herself and those not of her own gender.

     Eventually Peter held up a hand for quiet, which he received, “You are welcome here, brother,” he repeated again, “But tell us, why have you come?”

     And why now? Susan found herself also wondering—a logical enough question since they were now a full seven years into their reign. If it had been Nain’s aim to return to the land of his ancestors once Narnia had been reestablished under Aslan’s banner, then why had he not returned many years ago, as Perdian had?

     “With Your Majesty’s permission, I have want of making this land my home once more, as it was home to my ancestors.” The request was spoken only to Peter, and with an almost… Calormene nature in bearing, but then Susan supposed that that was hardly surprising, considering the degree of influence the Calormen Empire had gained over Terebinthia since the Age of Winter had cut the island off from Narnia. This might explain Nain’s impressive recitation of his linage as well, since such a thing was highly valued by Calormene nobility. “I have just completed my apprenticeship in Terebinthia, and thus freed myself of its bonds. I know not whether a coppersmith be of use to Your Majesty, but I was much about King Veroth’s court, and my father says I am sound in reason. It should be my honor to serve any of Cair Paravel’s needs,” Nain answered Peter’s question with an elegant bow.

     “But of course.” Peter agreed without hesitation, “As I have said, you are most welcome here. And I am quite certain we might find some role for you, be it along the lines of your training or otherwise. It is good and right for those of King Frank’s line to find a home here. You must stay here as Our guest, at least so long as it takes to find you a place for which your skills are best suited.” The wording was left vague, but there was little doubt that Peter had in mind an advisory role along the lines of the one which Perdian fulfilled for them.

     “You honor me greatly, Your Majesty. If I may, I have brought gifts for you and your royal siblings, so that Your Excellency might know the sincerity of my goodwill.” He drew out two pieces wrapped in clothes—clearly a pair of decorative daggers and Lucy (who had returned to her place besides Susan) gave a little disappointed sound just loud enough for Susan to hear. So much for her gift idea, then…

     “For you and your brother,” Nain declared, presenting them to Peter before reaching into his robe again. “And these, made of sea silk, for your most fair sisters,” He held up a set of wide cloth bracelets of the most exquisite material Susan may have ever seen, woven and rather pale until they were held up to the sunlight, which proved to be enough to abruptly transformed into something that might be woven of pure gold and shining right back. Lucy fairly cooed over the wrist bands when Peter brought it up to them and Susan smiled as she accepted her own portion---clearly his sister’s disappointment about the daggers had been quickly forgotten in the face of such a gift.

     There was another exchange of thanks a final welcome after that, and Nain bowed and once again expressed his appreciation before one of the fauns who oversaw the housing of honored guests in the castle escorted the human to be settled in a suitable room. The rest of the audience was its usual combination of tedious, amusing, frustrating, and jolly, and Susan found herself feeling quite ready for supper (though if she was hungry poor Edmund, who was in the middle of a very impressive growth spurt, must be starving). They would all go to their rooms to change into something a bit less formal, and then meet again in the dining hall. She shooed her siblings on ahead of her before following… only to be stopped by the sound of quick footsteps from behind that gave her cause to glance back to see who it was.

     And there was Perdian looking determined those also the slightest bit guilty as he immediately offering her a bow. “Queen Susan,” he greeted her as he straightened, hand resting formally on the hilt of his sword. “If I might perhaps have a moment of your time…”

     To Susan, the air between them felt awkward, heavy, as it had for some time now, but she retained an iron grip on her poise, as she always did. “Of course, Lord Perdian,” she agreed quietly, sensing from him some matter of State he felt too delicate to bring up to her brothers, as was now his usual custom in order to avoid the very awkwardness that now held determinely between them. She nodded her head towards the nearby council chamber, heading there at a serene pace and letting Perdian follow her. Once they arrived she turned to face him, though the door remained very deliberately open and he was careful to keep a good five feet of distance between them.

     “My lady,” he spoke first to break the silence, “This man, Nain…”

     “Oh, yes.” Her words came out a hurried, almost detectibly nervous rush (what had come over her?), “He most certainly must be a relative of yours, is he not? I’m sorry Peter didn’t think to give you an introduction at the time. I should be happy to do so myself of course. We could go now, if you like, I’ll just…”

     “Queen Susan, please.” He interrupted her as graciously as he knew how, “It is… true, what you say. Certainly we are relatives, though quite distant ones---I’m afraid if you check the records you will find his blood far more royal as mine. But such is not...precisely what I had wished to speak with you about. I do not mean to presume, but I feel perhaps it is my place to notice, and at times to speak—” Oh, it shouldn’t be so difficult to rest his eyes on her soft features and raven hair and speak at the same time.

     “Sir, will you not merely speak what troubles you?” she asked, taking her own turn to interrupt, and his cheeks may have actually reddened as he gathered himself to do just that.

     Perdian took a short breath and nodded, deciding it perhaps wiser to keep his eyes fixed on the ground between them this time, “It was oft told to me in my youth how so many Narnian humans had fled further than Archenland—to places such as Terebinthian or further still. You yourself know that I am of the sixth generation since the time of winter first fell over Narnia’s fair lands. I can only imagine it is the same for this Nain, since he is of similar age to myself. But there are aspects of his story I cannot reconcile, Your Majesty.”

     He glanced up briefly and she gave a nod for him to go on. “He made a point of apologizing for not having someone to announce his lineage and claimed that he lacked the means.” This seemed reasonable enough, and the specific concern was sensible, at least to a young man having be been born in raised in Terebinthia which had adopted the concern for such things from Calormen. “But this gift…” he hesitantly stepped forward, closing the gap between them so he could brush fingers across the set of woven golden bracelets she still held in her hands, “It is sea silk, my lady,” he told her quietly, eyes solemn, “That alone gives it extraordinary value, but it is additionally of a particularly fine quality, to glow so much as we have seen it do.” He trailed off, let the silence fall, let her draw her own conclusions… But by Aslan even this mere proximity to her was difficult for him to bear. And yet he was a Knight of Narnia, a man who had dedicated his very life to serving her and her family and thus the rest of Narnia in its turn.

     It would not—could not—be so difficult if she returned no interest for him. But such was not the case. They had painfully but deliberately confronted unvoiced feelings on a day that now lay many moons back in the folds of history’s pages. He could still remember the walk through the garden, recalled the dryads who resided there so graciously acting as chaperones devoid of gossip, remember the way the cools spring hair had lifted her stray curls... But match between them could never be. Oh, he had no doubt that her siblings would sanction it gladly, but Queen Susan was a woman of a great sense duty and of political and diplomatic wits perhaps greater still. She would marry for alliance, for the promise of much-needed peace. He remembered how they had paused in their walk, close against the whispering branches of the willow Tree, and when he had looked her in her eyes he had not been able to deny that such a choice of her duty (which was an extension of her love for her land and subjects) over her personal preference was indeed her royal right. She had chosen, and made her choice known to him, and he was above all else a man of noble heart, who strove to walk upright before the Great Lion and the Emperor-over-the-sea. He would respect her decision; do his best to keep emotional distance between them for both of their sakes.

     And so, even now, he took a small, deliberate step back.

     The movement pulled Susan from her musings and her eyes rose to meet his squarely, “If he has so little means as to not be able to hire someone to announce him, if he is indeed a young man only just freed from apprenticeship he could never have been able to afford so expensive a gift.” She drew her conclusion from knowledge he had imparted to her.

     “Yes, I’m afraid so, my lady.” He agreed quietly.

     She let out a long breath, “I see,” she murmured quietly, rocking back on her heels slightly, thinking, thinking. “Then I think I shall introduce you to him now nonetheless. If he be dishonest I should prefer to keep him close, to give us opportunity to understand what he aims for or at the very least discover how had was able to come into possession of such gifts.” She rubbed the gold cloth between her fingers—she would have to speak to the librarian about this sea silk… “Peter meant to perhaps offer him a place in the same nature as your own, since you share the same blood,” She paused, head tilted to the side, “Do you think he is truly of Frankish blood then?”

     “I… do, Your Majesty.” Perdian answered quietly, “At least with the information we can see so far. The recitation of his genealogy… unless he possesses some unnatural gift, I am inclined to think that such a feat of memorization requires a start in the earliest of childhoods.”

     Susan nod, giving him a tight lipped smile, “I’ll speak to Lucy about it, then.” She wonder if perhaps Terebinthia and King Veroth were not quite as friendly and open as their most recent diplomatic communications would have her and her family believe. She’d have to mention that to her sister as well before the younger girl decided how best to notify and deploy their agents on Terebinthia and perhaps the nearby islands…

     “And Edmund, of course.” Her younger brother would be more than cautious in bringing accusations (as he always was and had every right and reason to be given what his own path in this world had been), but his counter-intelligence network was perhaps even more thorough and methodic in coordinating efforts ensure there was not the slightest possibility of threat to their family then Lucy’s frightfully efficient foreign intelligence. It was a pity that Peter was so incapable of hiding his thoughts and feelings that they had to keep many things like this news hidden from him until they had definite knowledge one way or the other, but then Peter had plenty enough on his plate managing the Army and fulfilling all the obligations of High King.

     “Thank you for speaking with me,” she murmured quietly, knowing how Perdian strove not to come before her privately anymore if he could avoid it, “Edmund will be too concerned about unjust accusation to listen to it from anyone save me. But I imagine he shall want to speak with you on the matter in the next few days. In the meantime, perhaps you will be so gracious as to keep a… relative’s eye on this Nain yourself, Lord Perdian?”

     He offered her a full, sweeping bow, accompanied by a bitter sweet but genuine smile, “I shall serve in this as in all things, Your Majesty.” There was one last moment of silent stillness between them, where the air threatened to grow heavy again, but he broke the spell with a gesture for her to precede him out the hall.

     After all, he was eager to meet this long-lost relative for himself.

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