"Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow."

- Proverb

Dreamers

"Corin? Corin are you listening to me?"

Prince Corin of Archenland snapped out of his thoughts as the voice berated him and turned a guilty look at his father. It probably wasn't a good idea to fall asleep at the breakfast table, after all.

"I'm sorry Father," he said sheepishly to King Lune, "I was somewhere else entirely."

"So I see," Lune chuckled, reaching across the table to ruffle his son's hair, "I was just reminding you not to be late for your lessons this evening. Again."

Corin frowned slightly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the reminder.

"Have the Narnians sent word of their arrival?" he asked instead.

"Yes, both the queens will be coming," Lune said, a fond smile on his face for the Narnian monarchs, "The High King, unfortunately, has business that calls him to the north and as you know, there must always be someone at Cair Paravel."

Though Corin was a little disappointed not to see Peter or Edmund, he was excited nonetheless.

"Now, are you going to tell me what had you up so late this morning?" Lune inquired, "Hmm? Not sneaking out to the boxing rings again, are we?"

Corin blushed at the reprimand. He'd been caught three times sneaking out of the castle to go watch the city boxing matches. Lord Darren hadn't been too pleased.

"I haven't gone in weeks!" he stated, crossing his arms, "If you must know, I've been having very odd dreams."

"Odd dreams?" Lune repeated, concerned, "Nightmares?"

Corin shook his head and sighed.

"No, not nightmares," he muttered, "Just…confusing."

He shot his father a smile.

"Perhaps I'm just looking forward to Queen Susan and Lucy visiting. Do you know if Mr. Tumnus will accompany them?"

His father confirmed this and after finishing breakfast together, the king and prince both went to start their days.

King Lune was a round, jolly looking fellow. His brown hair and beard were streaked with grey and never had Corin seen his father look truly angry with anyone. The closest he came was perhaps a kind of stern disappointment. They said the old king had been an accomplished warrior in his youth, fierce and proud. Corin had a hard time picturing it for himself.

He did not look much like his father, having inherited his mother's dark blonde hair and inquisitive green eyes, though that he'd had to take his father's word for. The queen had passed away when Corin was very little and all he truly remembered about her was a sad smile and a gentle voice.

"You will let me know if the dreams persist," Lune said finally, "It wouldn't do for you to lose any unnecessary sleep that would deprive your tutors of your presence."

Corin had the decency to blush.

"You wound me sir!" he declared, drawing laughter from his father.

"Off with you, rascal," Lune gave him a nudge, "Go! I'm sure you'll cause as much trouble as you please and I'll hear all about it in due time."

It was Corin's turn to laugh, but he did as he was told, running off in the direction of the castle grounds.

"And try not to get into any fights!" he heard his father call as he rounded the corner.

He huffed.

Well how was he ever to become a better boxer if he didn't get into fights?

It was widely acknowledged by the inhabitants of Cair Anvard that Corin was a rather boisterous prince. He was brash and impulsive, always eluding his guardians in favour of finding some adventure or other. Why, he'd been caught three times visiting the brawling rings at the docks! And then there was the incident with the son of the Ambassador from Doorn. Shocking!

But he was also a generous soul, likely a trait he had picked up from his father, and had a light, free loving nature that made him quite likable, despite all the terribly shocking things he did.

He tore out to the castle grounds, straight to his archery teacher. Madam Sera was a stern faced woman who disliked tardiness. She had a voice like a whip and a very dry sense of humour. Corin liked her, though his archery skills weren't much to speak of and he hardly ever hit the target right.

She'd just shake her head, tell him to keep practicing and excuse him for his next lesson. From there, Corin would either go horseback riding, learn jousting and fencing, listen to Lord Darren lecture him on morality and time management or attend lessons in hand to hand combat from a very eager faun named Archie. The latter, of course, was always his favourite.

So most of his days would pass, broken only by the odd bit of mischief or adventure he could get away with. Or sometimes, he'd find himself curling up under an ancient oak tree for an afternoon nap.

These were the long summers of Archenland. In the winter he'd spend a lot less time outdoors, remaining cooped up in the castle learning about diplomacy, law and history. These subjects rarely interested the young prince, save for when the discussion about battles came around. Corin so dearly wanted to be in a real battle. It must be glorious!

His teacher would smile wanly and ask him to repeat the oath of kingship, given to the first king of Narnia, Frank I, centuries ago by Aslan and carried forth to Archenland by King Col I.

He would scrunch up his nose, but do so without too much complaint. It was not that he disliked the oath, but just what it meant.

Corin, at the ripe old age of twelve, had decided that being king of Archenland was not for him. This was not to say he wouldn't do it if he had to, his father had instilled enough responsibility in him to acknowledge that. It was just that he couldn't properly imagine himself as ever being king. He wanted to have grand adventures. He wanted to sail the Eastern Sea, explore the wilds of the far north and perhaps even discover what lay beyond the Southern Waste. He wanted to fight giants and sea monsters, save damsels in distress (whatever that meant) and break wicked curses. All those things would be quite impossible if he was king!

I shall just have to enjoy being a prince for as long as I can, he decided, and would run off to find a new adventure to get into.

In the late afternoon, he lay out under his oak tree, staring up through the leaves at a blue sky. He started to doze, but fought off the call of sleep for as long as he could.

His dreams were the troubling thing. They were all different in many ways, taking place in palaces, near the sea and even across the desert. But always they had one with in common. Corin was always chasing after a boy around his own age. He had the same head of tawny blonde hair as Corin, but the prince could never quite get a look at his face. Each time, just as Corin would reach out to grab him, the boy would disappear. In the first few dreams, the boy would laugh as he darted away, like it was all a game.

"Wait!" the young prince panted, tearing across a sandy beach, his bare feet slapping in the waves, "Wait for me!"

The sky overhead was filled with stars, brighter than any Corin had ever seen before. Moonlight danced across the waves of the dark sea, colouring it in silver sheen. The gentle breeze that breathed along the coast was salty and fresh.

Corin stopped running, letting the water lap gently at his feet. It felt cool and oddly peaceful.

He realized the other boy had stopped running too. He was only a few feet ahead. Corin took a step forward, and as he did, so did the boy. He stopped dead in his tracks, not daring to move.

"Why can't I catch you?" he asked loudly, "Why do you run?"

The boy's head turned slightly at the question, but not enough for Corin to see his face. He didn't say anything though, just looked up at the stars. The prince turned his gaze too and saw there was one star shining brighter than all the rest. Slowly, the boy's arm stretched up and he pointed to the star.

"I don't understand!" Corin exclaimed, perplexed, "What are you trying to tell me? Damn it! Why does this have to be so strange?"

The boy just kept pointing, and as he did, Corin realized it wasn't one star he was pointing to, but two. Two very bright stars that were very close to each other. In fact, the rest of the sky seemed to be darkening around them, leaving only those two heavenly bodies.

In the encroaching darkness, Corin looked back at the other boy and realized he was starting to turn around fully. In a second, he'd see his face. Corin held his breath, waiting for the moment…

And that's when he woke up.

~.~

Shasta drudged back to the stables, weary and stressed. The Tarkaan had indeed had a new task for him. He was to break the young black colt before the next full moon or he would be sent to work in the fields. Never mind that he knew nothing about breaking a horse. He kept remembering Abdar's words. He didn't want to go to the fields, to be worked until he couldn't stand, to be beaten and abused by the taskmaster. He'd seen the condition of the field slaves and he would rather be dead.

He crept into his hayloft bed that night, waiting for everyone to leave so he could speak with his friend about the day's events.

Bree guessed the right of it, as usual; that the reason Shasta had been so suddenly called to serve in the big house was because of his white skin.

"He wanted to put Badr's guest in his place," the horse huffed knowledgably, "And without actually saying anything! He's a sly one."

"Why does he dislike Northerners so much?" Shasta frowned, "He doesn't even know Magnus! He's judging him on the colour of his skin!"

"Oh I suspect it goes both ways," Bree snorted, "Humans are very good at finding things to dislike about each other. No one said it had to be rational."

Shasta crossed his arms, disliking the notion in its entirely. He thought back to his own experiences, wondering if he had ever judged someone in such a way. But he hadn't really been aware there was anything different about him before the Tarkaan had come to the fishermen's house. It all seemed a rather silly, adult conception to him. He let out a sigh then and tried to focus on his next problem.

"But how am I to break a horse?" he asked.

Bree looked affronted.

"Break a horse? Break a horse! You get that codswallop out of your head! You won't be breaking any horse, you'll be training him," he said with authority.

"But how am I to do that!"

"In exactly the way you've been learning to ride," Bree told him, "With patience and trust. Now, come here, we'll begin right away."

The young black horse stood in the kraal, looking as displeased and haughty as a horse could. He was called Farzin and it was not the first time someone had come to try his luck at taming the stubborn creature. Shasta had seen one of the other stable hands walking away with a bruised side after being thrown three times.

With Bree's words of advice, Shasta set off first thing to begin training Farzin. He took the apple he'd been given for his own breakfast and offered it to the young stallion. He waited patiently, letting Farzin come to him.

It took time, and all Shasta did for the first few days, was get the horse used to him. He brushed his coat, fed him and spoke to him softly. Soon, as soon as Shasta was in sight, Farzin would gallop to the fence and stick his head out expectantly.

Shasta took everything as slowly as he dared, always aware of the looming timeline. On top of this task, he was also expected to keep up with his usual chores in the stables. More than once he had to stay out late, working with Farzin to get him used to the bit and then the saddle.

On one such night, he had just shut the gate to the enclosure when he realized there was someone standing close by. He was surprised to see it was the astronomer Magnus. He had his hand behind his back and was looking up at the night sky. Shasta followed his gaze, finding his yes drawn to a single star that shone far brighter than all the rest.

"The North Star," Magnus said.

"Sir?" Shasta asked, confused.

"There," he pointed at that bright star, "That's the North Star. It never moves from its place in the heavens. A good friend to a navigator."

Shasta nodded, unsure of why the man was speaking to him.

"I've seen you out with that horse every night," Magnus continued, "I was curious as to why?"

Shasta shifted uncomfortably, but explained as best he could. If the astronomer was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully.

"Good luck then lad," he said and was gone.

Shasta remained behind a little longer, staring up at the North Star.

~.~

Corin climbed up the stairs of the South Tower, his books gripped under his arm. He'd never had much interest in astronomy, but it seemed to be one of those things a prince was expected to know. It had been days since he'd had a dream about that boy. Now, all he saw when he closed his eyes were those two stars.

His tutor greeted him with a smile as he entered.

"Ah! My prince! So you didn't get lost after all!"

Corin chuckled sheepishly.

"Not this time Ramus," he acknowledged.

Ramus had been around for as long as anyone could remember. He was old, thin and half deaf. He gestured with a crooked hand for Corin to sit down and turned to adjust his telescope. The room had all sorts of measuring devices for studying the night sky as well as piles of charts and books.

For an hour, Corin's time was divided between peering through the telescope and writing down his observations. All the time, Ramus would drone on about the history behind each star or planet.

"Now Lune," he began, "The theory of-"

"Its Corin, Ramus," the young prince sighed; gently reminding the old tutor he was not teaching his father.

"What? Oh yes. Yes, of course," Ramus paused, considering Corin, "You do look remarkably like your father when he was your age."

"Really?" Corin asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, yes," Ramus smiled nostalgically, "You have Queen Eleanor's colouring, but you have your father's features through and through. Why, you're quite identical."

Corin smiled politely and returned to his study of the night sky. After a few minutes, something caught his eye and he turned the telescope slightly. He frowned.

It was the two stars!

He hadn't noticed them before, for they were part of a small cluster of stars, but there they were! Exactly as he remembered them, though he noticed one was more golden in colour than the second.

"Ramus!" he exclaimed, "Do you know what those two stars are?"

"What?" the old tutor exclaimed.

Corin patiently showed him.

"Those two?" he asked, "The two bright ones hanging in the south?"

Corin nodded.

The tutor smiled, seeming glad the prince was taking an interest in the night sky.

"Those two stars are part of the constellation known as 'the Twins,'" he explained, "They are the brothers, Castor and Pollux."

"Twins?" Corin repeated, something stirring inside him. He couldn't quite identify what that feeling was, but he knew it was important. He stared out into the night sky, his gaze focused on those two stars.

Just what was that boy trying to tell him?

"Ah yes, twin brothers," Ramus looked sad all of a sudden, "Poor Cor. Poor boy."

Corin's head snapped round.

"Who?" he asked.

But Ramus was already talking about something to do with the trajectory of Pollux in regards to Castor. Corin frowned, but let it go, only eager to be done for the evening. After all, it was all just a lot of silly dreams.

~.~

Things with Farzin seemed to be going well. Shasta could take the horse on long walks without much trouble, leading him along by his reins. He had eased into the feeling of being saddled and seemed to trust Shasta. Even the Groom seemed surprised by Shasta's progress and commented that the young stallion should be ready to try riding soon. Bree kept up his encouragement and advice. For once, Shasta was sure everything was going to be okay.

He often found he had spectators when he was working with Farzin. Sometimes there was the older slave boy who liked to scowl and jeer at him. Shasta had come to learn his name was Stavros. He was a pointy faced, pockmarked youth with olive skin, dark curly hair and dark eyes. He was a Telmarine and worked in the fields. As a result, he often looked scraped and beaten. Shasta didn't pay attention to his taunts, seeing the person he might well become if he failed this task.

Mostly though, it was Magnus' companion Fezile who stood watching at the edge of the fence. His black eyes always there, boring into Shasta as he worked.

And then, when Shasta still had over a week before the next full moon, Anradin appeared. He eyes Shasta as he worked and announced;

"You will demonstrate in an hour."

Shasta was shocked.

"But-but-" he started to protest.

"An hour," Anradin announced, glaring at the boy.

Shasta ducked his head.

"Y-yes Tarkaan," he said quickly.

Anradin stalked away and Shasta wanted to cry! He didn't have time to go speak with Bree, he'd just have to try riding Farzin and hoping for the best. He spent the hour talking quietly to the horse as he saddled and readied him. His hands shook a little as he did so. Farzin raised his head in Shasta's direction, his dark eyes steady and concerned. Shasta stroked his nose gently.

"I wish you could speak too Farzin," he said, and half of him hoped that as it had been with Bree, the young stallion would start to talk. But of course, Farzin had only been sensing Shasta's own nerves, not the cause of them. He tried to calm himself down, knowing the horse could sense his unease.

I can't make him feel uncomfortable, he reminded himself, patience and kindness, Bree said.

Over the course of the next hour, a small group of spectators gathered. These included Fezile and Magnus, some of the guards, Stavros, a few of the stable hands and the Groom. They gathered around the fence of the enclosure, muttering excitedly to one another. Then Anradin arrived and it was time.

Shasta mounted Farzin, speaking gently and easing the horse into the feel of having a rider. Farzin seemed fine, so Shasta led him into a walk. The stable hands grinned at him approvingly, which gave Shasta a little courage. He even saw Bree, who was being led out to graze. The man with his reins had stopped to watch the spectacle. He looked encouraging and Shasta gained more confidence from that. Until he saw Anradin that is.

The Tarkaan was watching him with a glare on his face. The hatred so palatable, Shasta almost flinched. It was then he realized that Anradin had wanted him to fail. He had intended it as some sort of lesson. If Shasta had lost the bet, he knew he'd be on his knees right now, begging his master for mercy and promising him anything. Shasta actually succeeding had not been part of Anradin's plans and he likely would come up with something worse in the future. If there was one thing he had learned about the Tarkaan, displeasing him led to nasty consequences. Shasta suddenly felt sick as real fear shot through him.

What was going to happen to him now?

There was a screech and something small and furry shot out in front of Farzin. The stallion, startled by the noise and the sudden appearance of a small creature under hoof, reared back. The creature – a cat, Shasta had a second to realize – hissed and growled, frightening the horse even more. Shasta hung on for dear life as Farzin bucked and rose up on his back legs.

Unfortunately, Shasta wasn't strong enough to hang on for long and was thrown from the saddle. As he landed on the ground, his right leg burst into pain and he screamed. He heard yells as someone rushed in to grab the horse's reigns before Farzin could trample Shasta.

Someone else was fussing around him, trying to get Shasta up, but the pain got worse, making the boy cry out.

"Can he stand?" a curt voice barked. Anradin.

A firm hand gripped his leg and Shasta nearly passed out.

"His leg is injured," it was one of the guards, "I don't know how badly."

"Take care of him," the tone was dismissive, but oddly gleeful, "I'll see to him later."

"Yes Tarkaan," the voice affirmed, then, "You there, help me with him!"

Another pair of arms lifted the dazed Shasta from the ground. He heard a commotion in the background and the groom's voice.

"Easy Arash!" he was calling, "What has gotten into you today?"

Bree, thought Shasta blearily, don't cause trouble. Please.

He hissed in pain when the person on his right kicked his leg, he turned his head to see it was Stravos. An unfriendly smile twisted his lips.

"You're done now," he hissed in Shasta's ear, "Can't work with a leg like that. You'll be got rid of."

Shasta's mouth gaped open and his eyes widened. Would that really happen? What would the Tarkaan do with him? Sell him? He'd be separated from Bree! Tears, from pain or fear he didn't know, started to work their way down his cheeks, blurring his vision and making his breathing shallow.

"Well that's not going to help his leg get any better, is it?" snapped a familiar voice. Shasta and the other boy's head shot towards the speaker. It was the astronomer. Magnus' sharp blue eyes were focused on them, a wry sort of smile on his face.

"Out of the way, barbarian," the guard announced, "We're busy."

Magnus held up his hands.

"My man has some healing knowledge," he said, "Better you bring him to my rooms if you want a chance at patching that leg up. That lad next you doesn't seem to be helping."

Suddenly, Fezile appeared almost out of nowhere and had scooped Shasta into his arms like he was nothing. Maybe he was in comparison to the giant of a man.

He didn't remember much about the trip to the astronomer's room. He could hear the guard arguing, Magnus' dry response and could smell ink and wax. He was laid down on something soft – a bed, he realized with a start – and told to lie still. He didn't move, feeling suddenly tired and weak from the pain.

"Please," he mumbled out, thinking of what the other boy had said, "I don't want to be got rid of, I'll work, I'll be useful."

"Hush lad, you'll be fine," said the giant.

"Listen carefully, anything I ask you, say yes," it was Magnus, his hand suddenly gripping Shasta by the shoulder, "Understand?"

Shasta tried to concentrate.

"Wha-?"

"You say yes, understood?" blue eyes glinted at him.

Shasta nodded his head, hiccupping a little from crying.

"Good," the pressure on his shoulder eased, "Good. I'm going to give you something to ease the pain. Just stay quiet and we'll take care of you."

And for the first time in a long time, Shasta felt safe.

~.~

Shasta woke to shouting.

His eyes snapped open, not even the dull ache in his leg was able to distract him from the sight he beheld. It was Magnus. Blue eyes blazing, hair as wild as ever and throwing around papers, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Shasta struggled to sit up in bed, pain shooting through his leg at the movement. He hissed quietly, and stilled, waiting for it to pass. He noticed that someone had wrapped and splinted the limb, though he couldn't remember when it had happened. The pain eased slowly and he was able to turn his attention to the ruckus going on around him.

Magnus was yelling at a middle aged Calormene man. He was short, with a lined face and stood with a stoop. He was trying to calm the astronomer down, but Magnus was having none of it.

"Useless!" he growled, "You're utterly useless! Go back to your master and tell him I want someone else!"

The man's lips twisted in a suppressed frown, but he nodded, bowing his head and exciting the room. Magnus straightened, turning to his companion and winked. Fezile looked amused.

A second later, Anradin came thumping through the door, his expression livid. He eyed Magnus, before his sharp gaze traveled to Shasta and his lips curled up, barring his teeth. He took a step towards the boy, but Magnus was in his face a moment later.

"There you are!" he cried, waving his arms in the air angrily, "Your father told you to appoint me an assistant, not an idiot!"

Anradin looked surprised at the address, but that was soon hidden behind a cool mask.

"There is a problem?" he sneered.

"Yes, there's a problem!" Magnus stated dramatically, "The man you sent me can't even put two and two together, he's messed up my papers, spilled ink on my favourite map, threw my telescope out of alignment -"

"And what would you have me do about it?" Anradin stated coldly, his irritation starting to show. He kept glancing at Shasta, "I'm here to deal with the boy, not your petty problems."

"What boy?" Magnus craned his neck around as though seeing Shasta for the first time, "Oh, yes of course. Take him. Take him! I can't be bothered with these things right now."

Anradin took a step towards Shasta, but was halted again by Magnus.

"But first, your father ordered you to get me anything I needed and I need an assistant!" Shasta thought he sounded a bit like a tempestuous child, stomping his foot and throwing a tantrum like this. It wasn't how he had expected the man to act at all.

"You have your man," the Tarkaan pointed out.

Magnus waved him off.

"The only thing he's good for is heavy lifting!" he exclaimed, "I am an artist. A scientist! I can't be expected to work in these conditions! I'll go take my leave of your father and-"

"What is it you want exactly? Whatever it is, take it! Take it and be done!" Anradin snarled through gritted teeth, apparently the threat of his father's displeasure was worse than taking orders from a barbarian.

"Well, I don't want you to go without an able bodied servant," Magnus looked deliberately thoughtful, as though he were really contemplating the issue, "Ah, I have a solution. I'll take the cripple."

He gestured to Shasta.

Anradin's expression thundered.

"And what good is a fisherman's brat going to be to a scientist?" he asked dangerous.

"You might be surprised," Magnus looked at Shasta, "Your arms still work, don't they boy?"

"Y-yes!" Shasta said quickly, remembering Magnus' words from the previous night.

"And can you read? Do you know your numbers?"

"Yes!" Shasta lied.

"There!" Magnus said triumphantly, "I'll take him. You can go now, Tarkaan."

Anradin's dark skin turned darker as he flushed with rage.

"He is my slave!"

"Oh, so you'll go back on your word now? You did say I could take anything I needed, did you not? Well, this is a fine kettle of fish, isn't it? Absolutely unprofessional! Fine! Take him back then and tell your father I can't work like this! I really can't!"

Anradin struggled for a moment, clearly not liking where this conversation was going. Shasta just watched, caught as two men bargained for his future.

Please, he prayed silently, please let me stay with the astronomer. Oh please!

He hadn't liked the nasty look in Anradin's face when he first saw Shasta.

"Fine! Fine! Fine!" the Tarkaan had finally lost his temper, "Take him and curse you!"

With that, Anradin turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

There was silence for about five seconds before Magnus clapped his hands together and laughed out loud.

"Well," he said finally, "That was actually easier than I thought it would be. He didn't inherit much from his father, but he's certainly as easy to fluster."

Fezile chuckled, it sounded like stones rolling around.

"Now then," Magnus turned to Shasta, "How's that leg of yours?"

"B-better, sir," Shasta piped up, " Thank you. Thank you for what you did! But - but sir, I can't read or-"

"Don't worry about that right now," the astronomer said kindly, his wild hair still sticking up in all directions, "You'll stay here now, understand?"

"Here?" Shasta questioned, confused.

"Yes, you'll sleep right here," he patted the cot.

"But your bed-" Shasta started, only to be cut off with a chuckle.

"I sleep in one of the guest rooms," he said, "I just keep this here in case I become too engrossed in my work and need a nap. You can use it. You'll live and work in this room. For now though, we'll concentrate on getting that leg to rights."

"I -" Shasta tried really hard not to cry, but it was difficult, "Th-thank you."

~.~

A/N: As we're not given much in regards to Narnian cosmology, I will be borrowing some from our world. Fun fact, Castor and Pollux are of course, the constellation of Gemini, and were part of the inspiration for Cor/Shasta and Corin. Twin brothers, one a horseman and one a boxer, sound familiar? Also, Gemini is ruled by Mercury. If you've ever read Michael Ward's Planet Narnia, he proposed that each of the books was based around one of the seven heavenly bodies found in medieval astronomy. The Horse and His Boy is based around Mercury. Ward's book was pretty much the inspiration for Magnus' character with the little I remember about the history of medieval astronomy and science from uni. So let's have a little fun with it.

Thanks for reading!