The funeral for Caspian the ninth was a city wide affair. The telmarine citizens flooded the streets in their black clothing, shrouding the cobbles with shadows as the overcast sky hung heavy with rain. A early winter sickness was catching and the somber chatter was routinely interrupted by a bout of harsh hacking coughs that made the worried murmurs redouble for a few seconds.

Ahren was glad that he was stood with his father inside the hall and therefore shielded from the cold winds outside. The general citizens were not so lucky for it was only lords and royals allowed in with the castle hall with the dead as the funeral rites were preformed. Still, a chill hung in the air and emanated from the stone. It was only the heavy velvet of his mourning clothes that kept him warm but still he shivered as he gazed around the hall. One hand clutched in his father's securely as he watched the king's brother begin to lay a sword across his brother's chest. It was a somber moment but he had just turned seven and did not quite understand why Lord Miraz was preforming such a gesture. He wanted to ask his father but the man was watching with a carefully blank expression.

Instead, he cast his gaze around curiously. Ahren had only been in the royal castle a few times before to accompany his father to meetings, during which he was carefully ushered off to play with the village children in the main square under the watchful gaze of his guard. This was the longest he had ever spent inside the room, or ever seen it so full. The lords and their families were all gathered in two rows down either end. Some were crying for their king, while others watched with the same blank expressions of his father.

He wondered why his father wasn't crying. His father and the king had been friends after all. Ahren glanced towards the six other lords on either side of them and saw the same carefully black expressions. Lord Rhoop, who had always spared him warm smiles when they met, was looking positively grim. Lord Argoz seemed more angry than sad. It made a shudder go down Ahren's back and he turned his head back to the front.

The widowed queen was clothed in a gown of black velvet which was cast in a pale gold sheen by the chandelier. Ahren watched as she smothered a cough as best she could into her handkerchief, tears gleaming in her eyes. Even from this distance it was easy to see the paleness of her skin and the beginning of sallowness to her face. The winter sickness flooding the city had festered and already stolen the warmth from households. The amount of deaths it caused was only due to increase. Now their king was dead. Ahren had heard his father shout about it in his study the night before. The city had never been more vulnerable.

The ceremony was drawing to a close. Lord Miraz, though he was now Regent Miraz, was speaking. His voice echoing in the hall as he gave a speech about loss and the future of the kingdom. Ahren was seven, so he wasn't listening. Instead his attention had shifted from the widowed queen to the small figure half hidden next to her. The long skirts of the queen, her handmaidens and the nursemaids had tucked the young prince away so that he was almost out of sight. Ahren stared at the only child his age in the hall curiously. He had heard of the prince many times but this was the first time he had actually seen him. Prince Caspian the tenth always having been occupied by tutors and nursemaids whenever Ahren was visiting.

He was a small child and he wondered if Caspian was bigger or smaller than him. It was hard to tell from a distance but Ahren hoped that he was taller than the prince. If he was the bigger one then it would make it easier to give the prince a hug. Caspian looked small and cold despite his heavy looking cloak. Dark hair hung around his jaw and tears were trickling silently down his cheeks. His hands hung by his sides and Ahren was reminded of his own hand warmed by his father's. It made him feel secure and he wondered why no one was holding the prince's hand. Caspian looked like he needed it.

Something was announced and the crowd began moving. A hundred feet shuffling on stone as the doors were swung open and everyone began to trudge out into the cold. It had begun snowing gently. Fluffy white flakes drifting from the sky and dotting black fabric with white. Ahren let go of is father's hand to fumble for his gloves in his cloak pocket and stumbled on the stone steps outside of the hall. He righted himself and stuffed his cold hands into his gloves with a shiver. When he looked up, his father had been swallowed by the crowds.

Panic immediately began to seize him. "Papa?" He called hesitantly. His father couldn't be far. "Papa?" Around him the lords moved on without a glance. He was just a lost child under their feet.

The panic doubled and he sniffed in the cold. He wished that his guard, Othello, had been allowed inside, but the man had been forced to stay with the other soldiers and on the other end of the square. "Papa?" He called slightly louder.

"Did you lose your father?" A gentle voice asked. Ahren turned and found himself looking up into a set of dark but warm eyes. Skirts swished as the queen and her entourage of ladies stopped on the steps next to him. Her tears were gone but grief lingered in the edges of her face as she spared him a small, reassuring smile.

Ahren sniffed and nodded. "I don't know where he went".

A few ladies in waiting cooed at him. The queen's face softened in recognition. "You are Lord Restimar's son. What was your name again dear?" She was beautiful despite the sickly paleness to her skin. 

"Ahren", he replied with a clumsy bow. "Your majesty". His father had said that he must always bow when introducing himself to royalty.

"Ahren. This is my son. Caspian. He is about your age". She moved her skirts as the boy stepped out from the surrounding ladies. Up close, Ahren was the taller one. Caspian small and with big red rimmed eyes. The two of them eyed each other for a moment.

"Prince Caspian", Ahren bowed as neatly as possible. This boy was to someday be his king, his father had told him. That made his eyes widen with awe.

"Lord Ahren", Caspian nodded back with the ease of being royal since birth. His voice was small and his bare fingers twisted anxiously in his cloak.

Ahren pulled off his gloves, the soft wool tickling his skin as he held them out to the prince with a small smile. Caspian looked so small and sad that he wanted to give him a hug. Othello had always said to look after those weaker than him after all. "Here".

Caspian stared at the gloves for a second in surprise. The women cooed again and the queen smiled, this time the expression seemingly real. "Caspian, dear. Did you forget your gloves? Isn't it nice for Ahren to give you his". She ran her hand gently over Caspian's head and the touch seemed to relax him.

"Are you sure?" Caspian stared at him with big black eyes, wide and soft.

Ahren stepped forwards and tucked his swollen gloves into the prince's hands. "It's snowing". He would have said something else. Child mind not liking how sad the two royals were. He wanted to make the other boy smile.

"Ahren!" His father's voice boomed over the courtyard. "Ahren?" He jolted and turned as the man wove his way out of the group of people and spotted him.

His father's beard was dotted with snowflakes and a familiar young man in armour was following him. Ahren let out a delighted noise and reached for them as they reached him. "Papa! Tello!" He held up his hands and his father scooped him up to rest him on his hip. Up close, it was easy to see how the two of them looked alike. Ahren had inherited his father's smile and features. The curls to his dark hair though, he had gotten from his mother.

"Did I not tell you to stay close? Where did you go?" The man scolded before noticing his audience. He set Ahren down and swooped into a graceful bow. Othello doing the same. "Your majesties. I apologise that we are not meeting under better circumstances. The king was a just man and I am honoured to have been is friend".

"Thank you lord Restimar", the queen's sadness had returned. She stifled a cough into her handkerchief. They all waited patiently for her to gather herself. At her side, Caspian had pulled on the gloves and was staring at them with a faintly astonished expression. When he looked up, Ahren smiled at him again.

"I have just had the pleasure of meeting Ahren", the queen continued once she had recovered. "I believe he is the same age as my Caspian".

"He turned seven merely a moon cycle ago".

"Almost an adult", Ahren grinned. Th queen chuckled and it lightened her face. She was beautiful even with the beginnings of sickness and the heaviness of grief. He felt a rush of pride at making her laugh.

"Yes. I believe you are. My Caspian is seven too".

"That means we can be friends!" Ahren declared excitedly. He beamed at the prince.

"Friends?" Caspian had been staring at him. Still with that wide eyed look. It reminded Ahren of a rabbit.

"Yeah. You look sad and if I am your friend then I can make you happy". It made sense to his mind. Ahren didn't like people being sad. He had been sad when his mother had died. He didn't want the prince to be sad too.

His father chuckled and ruffled Ahren's curls. "Ahren loves making friends", he explained to the two royals.

"I think that is an excellent idea", the queen pressed her bare hands together. "I have not been in the best of health recently and Caspian could do with a friend. Would you like that dear?"

Caspian nodded slowly, eyes still on Ahren. The taller boy beamed and jumped forwards to wrap him in his arms. Caspian let out a squeak at the movement as he found himself suddenly tangled up in the taller boy. Pressed together, Ahren found that he was about three inches taller than the other boy. He giggled and pressed the boy in tighter, feeling the warmth of it. Slowly, Caspian began to hug him back.

"Ahren", his father sighed. "Remember to ask before hugging someone. What if the prince didn't want a hug?"

"Oh", Ahren pouted and moved to pull away but Caspian didn't move.

The queen made an amused noise, seemingly startled by her own laughter. "It seems like Caspian does want a hug".

Ahren just grinned at the fluttery warm feeling in his chest and squeezed the smaller boy tighter. Eventually though, they had to separate and the they did, Caspian had red rimmed eyes and there was a slight wet patch on the shoulder of Ahren's black velvet.

"We must not keep you", Lord Restimar stated as the snow picked up. The queen began coughing again. "It is cold and I do not wish to deprive you from a warm fire any longer".

"May your travels be safe. The next time you come to the castle, I am sure Ahren and Caspian would love to spend some time together again".

"Yes please", Ahren nodded. Caspian nodded as well.

Ahren's father smiled. "I am sure they will. Thank you your majesty. My prince. Come on Ahren".

"Your highness. Prince Caspian". Ahren followed his father in a hasty bow and turned to reach for Othello. The silent knight easily swung him up and he laughed as he was set on a pair of broad shoulders. Hand waving at Caspian and the two groups separated. The prince looked back and Ahren saw a small smile and hesitant wave back as snowflakes dotted their hair.

unedited

Ahren seeing Caspian small and sad and cold and being like 'he's mine now' is so valid.