#a horse and his boy
Books, Tea, and the Trinity: Healthy Waldorf Salad
Books, Tea, and the Trinity: Healthy Waldorf Salad
Back in 2020, some friends and I started a Tea Party/Bible Study/Book Club. We met every Wednesday and worked our way through the Chronicles of Narnia and are currently working through the Lorien Legacies. When we started I resolved to share all the recipes, something I am trying to catch up on. All the recipes from our book club will no longe shave the book’s name at the front of the title but…
Books, Tea, and the Trinity: Sweet Cream Scones
Books, Tea, and the Trinity: Sweet Cream Scones
Back in 2020, some friends and I started a Tea Party/Bible Study/Book Club. We met every Wednesday and worked our way through the Chronicles of Narnia and are currently working through the Lorien Legacies. When we started I resolved to share all the recipes, but have fallen behind in posting. Instead of having the book we are reading through at the front of the recipe, I’m changing it to be our…
Books, Tea, and the Trinity: Red Pepper Triple Stack Sandwiches
Books, Tea, and the Trinity: Red Pepper Triple Stack Sandwiches
Back in 2020, some friends and I started a Tea Party/Bible Study/Book Club. We met every Wednesday and worked our way through the Chronicles of Narnia and are currently working through the Lorien Legacies. When we started I resolved to share all the recipes, but since then have decided to rework these posts. Instead of having the book we are reading through at the front of the recipe, I’m…
THE SPRING NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.
for: @narniadynastyfrom@tiriansjewel.
the honor of love.
setting:Calormen
characters: Zardeenah, Aravis, Lasaraleen
Zardeenah has a way about Her, always watching with a gentle gaze, always reassuring with a tender touch, always guiding with a kind counsel. She dances across the sweltering deserts and through the humid grasslands and into the bustling cities to meet Her kin, her younger brothers and sisters, in the moments of their greatest feeling. As the sun begins its descent into the jagged mountains of the west, so too does Zardeenah begin Her work amongst the cool air of the night and under the soft light of the moon. Tonight, She watches over a young Tarkheena with bright eyes and a girlish naïveté underneath the grown-up refinement she has cultivated in the last few months. This is not the first time She has visited Lasaraleen with a fond catch in Her throat at the heart and passion of Her sister for all things holy, but this is the first time She has visited Her sister to counsel her in the matters of love.
This is because Lasaraleen’s closest friend Aravis has ridden into Tashbaan atop her kind mare for a visit, and underneath the Tarkheena’s refinement there is also a nervous thrumming in her veins at the fiercely sweet brushes of her friend’s fingertips and a stilting headiness at the affection of her friend’s words and stories. These are all telltale symptoms of love, and Zardeenah has seen them in many of Her siblings before, from the earnest awkwardness of the firsts to the familiar sweetness of the lasts, from young people to the elderly, from the beginning of time until now. This love feels different though; it is stronger, as though it is meant to last throughout time in different fonts and forms, as though it could save a nation from self-destruction. She marvels at the beauty of it all, and wonders what words may reassure Her sister, who fumbles with her hair and jewelry and questions how she should speak to Aravis.
Lasaraleen turns to Zardeenah and speaks in a frantic way, wondering how on earth she is going to impress her friend, who she is sure is far braver and well-spoken than herself. It is a rare moment of insecurity for Lasaraleen, who is usually bubbly and sure of herself, if a bit childish at times. The setting sun frames her as she paces about in the garden explaining herself in anticipation, and Zardeenah reaches out with a soft hand to calm Her sister, weaving Her sentences in the traditional Calormene verse and breathing a fresh confidence into the Tarkheena.
“It is an honor to love, and it is an honor to be loved,” she says. “To care so intensely for someone is great evidence of your character. Don’t be afraid to let it grow into something beautiful.”
Lasaraleen smiles, clearly reassured by this advice, and Zardeenah slips away into the night after a warm embrace, just in time to hear Aravis arrive in a fumbling bustle of horse tack and servants, and just in time to see the girls greet one another, blushes flooding across their cheeks and knowing grins and looks threading between them like some sort of precious secret.
***
Years pass and things change as they often do, childlike infatuation and exploration developing into something deeper and softer, their relationship quiet and trusting as new challenges present themselves. Zardeenah is there through it all, listening to their prayers, their hopes and fears, watching them grow from lanky girls on the verge of womanhood to tall, beautiful young ladies adorned in bright fabrics and dazzling jewelry, their steps graceful and meaningful and their smiles full. Now, the world has changed. Now, it is time for a new chapter.
Aravis flees. Zardeenah wishes to weep for Her sister, trapped like a caged bird, but instead she holds hope in her heart for Aravis’s future in the North, knowing that all things have their reasons. She follows Aravis on her journey through the sticky summer air as she meets a boy with a noble brow hidden behind the dust and dejectedness on his face. Times will change, indeed. She sends Aravis on a race across the desert, and watches as Azaroth follows close behind. She is going to meet her destiny, Zardeenah thinks.
She turns back to Tashbaan as the night fades, as Aravis and the boy who is called Shasta arrive at the hermit’s. Lasaraleen is sitting in her quarters, a rare, quiet contemplation on her features. The girl so joyous, so frivolous, so gay, given over to pondering. It is a sight Zardeenah is proud to see; a sight Lasaraleen seldom shows anyone.
“Is she safe?” she asks, a measured hope in her voice.
Zardeenah nods and takes a brush from the table, sitting next to Her sister and beginning a steady trail through her long, black locks. The gesture has always been one of comfort to Lasaraleen, who loves to braid and style her own hair. She loves to be beautiful. She is beautiful, Zardeenah decides.
“She has arrived in Archenland,” she replies as she separates Her sister’s hair into strands for braiding.
Lasaraleen smiles, relief on her features. “I think I always knew she would run further than I would.”
Zardeenah agrees silently as she begins to weave delicate patterns.
“But I am glad of it, I think,” she continues. “That kind of wild…freedom suits her well, anyways. It always has, even if it exasperates me sometimes. I hope she finds a true home there.”
“I don’t believe we will need to worry much about that, sister.”
“No, me neither. Yet, I hope… I hope she remembers that she has a home here, too. She is my dearest friend.”
Lasaraleen sniffs, her eyes cloudy and her cheeks glistening with a natural kind of adornment, and Zardeenah can do nothing but soothe with Her fingertips and Her words.
“Do you remember what I told you about love those few years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Truths don’t fade even as time passes, Lasaraleen. Your love for Aravis saved her life, I think. And now she is saving our nation. That is a beautiful thing.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” she agrees. “An unconditional thing, as well.”
Zardeenah smiles to Herself as She thinks of the two Tarkheenas laughing in the not-so-distant future as they traipse through the Archenlandian hills or the Calormene sands. Separation never truly endures for long between friends or lovers with a steadfast spirit.
Lasaraleen laughs brightly, her playful mood returning as Zardeenah ties the last of the strands into the braid.
“I am so proud of her,” Lasaraleen says finally. “She has always been the brave one of the two of us.”
“Yes,” Zardeenah agrees. “Aravis is carving her path, and you must carve yours. We all must, in the end. Yet, I believe your care for one another has afforded you both such dignity that you won’t have much to fear. After all, it is a special thing to be loved, and in turn to love just as gracefully.”
Lasaraleen smiles, another tear hanging from her eyelashes like a string of diamonds.
“I understand that now,” she says softly. “Thank you.”
Zardeenah finds herself reaching out to hold Her sister yet again before she must float back into the night to meet her other siblings. Lasaraleen clings to Her, gratitude pouring off of her, and Zardeenah cannot help but feel all soft at the fact that She has helped Her sister. After all, loving her countrypeople is Her honor, just as loving Aravis is Lasaraleen’s.
