So this is a story about Cor and Corin and Archenland after their father's death. I hope you all enjoy it :)

After the Funeral

Cor placed a hand over his heart and wept as he tried to read the eulogy in front of him. His hands shook. The paper trembled.

"King Lune was a good man," he said. "A kind man. The father I only met when I was well into my life."

Through steamy eyes, the heir to the throne peered at the assembled crowd. Their court robes ran in blurs of colour around their bodies and the meadow blended into their clothes, a wash of green life. Laying in front of him, an open coffin with the funeral mask of his late father staring at the sky as though Aslan himself were looking down from the clouds.

"We shall miss him dearly, but we cannot feel true sorrow, for he is gone to that land far over the seas in East, Aslan's land. May the lord watch over him, guide him in his new life and may Aslan bring peace and calmness upon us all."

There was a stifled round of sobs and the coffin bearers stepped forwards to take up the ropes on either side of the coffin. Cor glanced down at his father one more time, tears streaming down his cheeks, then he closed the lid and the box was lowered into the ground.

"Goodbye father," whispered Cor. He raked a handful of dirt from the dust cup and let it pour through his fingers onto the wooden coffin.

It pattered softly, like the rain, like his tears.

Corin stepped up next, raked a handful of dirt from the dust cup. "Goodbye father," he said. "I'll always love you."

Cor placed a hand on his twin's shoulder and the younger boy turned to face him. Corin's eyes had filmed over. Pale blue, like a mirror of Cor's eyes. Like a mirror of their father's eyes. Cor turned away.

They moved apart from the procession, to the quiet of the vast meadow. Purple and white flowers stroked their boots. Behind them, the other funeral attendees dropped soil onto the coffin and the wood began to disappear beneath the mud.

"Dust to dust," said Cor quietly.

Under his arm, Corin's body began to shake.

"He's really gone?" said Corin.

"He's with Aslan," said Cor. "He's in a better place."

The two brothers were silent for a moment. A few tears broke loose from the film over Corin's eyes and ran down his cheeks. Cor stroked his brother's back, but didn't say anything. Sometimes silence was a better comfort than words.

"I feel so lost," said Corin, at last. "Why do we have to lose the people we love?"

Cor pulled his younger brother into a tight hug. Corin was warm, and very much alive.

"We haven't lost him," said Cor. His voice caught, but he swallowed hard. "He's waiting for us, just over the sea. You know that."

"But why?" said Corin. "Why did he have to die to go there? Why do we have to lose him? It's not fair," Corin's hand balled into a fist.

"We'll see him again," said Cor. "You know that too."

"But that's a whole lifetime from now," said Corin. "I don't want to wait that long."

He pulled away from the hug and turned to leave. Cor's stomach lurched after him, but Cor stood rooted to the spot.

"Where are you going?" said Cor.

"I just need some time, brother," said Corin.

Cor watched his twin walk away across the green meadow, away from the mourning crowd and into the woods. Corin had had a whole decade more with his father than Cor had had, but for Corin that wasn't enough. For Cor, six years wasn't enough. No amount of time was enough with the people that he loved. Why did it have to end like this?

He thought back to the day that he had found out who he really was. Shasta, a runaway from Calormen. A scruffy boy with two horses and runaway bride. Suddenly a prince of Archenland. Heir to the throne.

A hand touched his arm.

"How are you holding up?" said Aravis.

She was much different from who she had been back then. She was dressed sombrely – black and purple – and her curly hair was draped over her shoulders. On her lower half, she wore her signature Calormene trousers. The years had changed her appearance somewhat – in ways he blushed to notice – and even her tan had somewhat faded, but she would never let go of her Calormene heritage completely.

"I'm alright," said Cor. "I think."

"And Corin?" Aravis nodded to the line of trees where Corin's shape was just disappearing.

"I think he needs some time alone, to think about things."

They stared at the green-leafed trees around the meadow, the reminder that life was all around, and vibrant, and beautiful, even after a death.

"I'm sorry," said Aravis. "About your father. He was good man. In some ways, he was like an uncle to me, allowing me to live in the castle with you both, as a semi-ward. There aren't many wealthy men who would allow a potential love interest for their children, of little social or monetary power into their house or take them in as a protegée."

"Potential love interest?" asked Cor. His cheeks warmed, then cooled when he caught sight of the mud-covered coffin in his peripheral vision.

"I just mean a person of the opposite gender," said Aravis. "I owe your father more than I can say. I owe him more than my own father…"

She bit her lip and turned to stare at the trees again.

"You're a good friend Aravis," said Cor, linking his arm with hers. She bristled slightly, but this was a funeral; now was a time for companionship. "You and Corin, both. If you two weren't here, I don't know what I would do."

He followed her gaze. A bird flittered out from one of the trees and a soft breeze rippled through the meadow, bringing warmth to the early springtime. The flowers at their feet rustled and the petals broke from their stems and streamed into the air. Purple and white petals dancing through the funeral crowd. A sign from Aslan. A sign that life went on.

But Corin wasn't there to see it.

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