Author's Note: Okay so I am in a funk with Aravis and Cor, meaning that I'm finding it hard to develop their characters. So... I decided to mess with them in another story! I'vbe had this vinette idea for a while, but I never knew what fandom I wanted to put it in. So with a last burst of Thanksgiving energy, here is the first chapter to the prompt, Beginning.

Chapter 1: Beginning

Aravis knew that above all things that this was a stupid partnership. After all she already had a foolproof plan. So there. She mentally waved away any useless fishermen's sons that happened to come in her way and completely disregard her perfect plan. Aravis was used to things going her way. She was born, after all, with a legion of servants whose job was to make sure of just that. Shasta, however, had totally come in and wrecked everything. She watched the low dying glow of the embers of the fire. No one was awake out of their little party but her. To her side she saw the dappled flanks of the horses illuminated by the warm light of the embers and the cool light of the stars above.

"This is a horrible idea," she said to noone in particular. She could take the sensible war-horse Bree, but Shasta. By Tash, the boy was an unpracticed blithering commoner fit more to be a bumbling servant than a partner in her escape. Okay, so it was his escape, too. But, Aravis tried to think of that as little as possible.

"No it's not," said a sleepy voice by Bree's side. Apparently Shasta wasn't as immersed in sleep as she thought.

"You don't even know what I'm talking about," she said a roll of her eyes. Shasta chuckled. The soft sound seemed magnified by the darkness around them.

"It doesn't take a genius to know that you hate this plan." He leaned on his elbow and stared at her. "Obviously you think I'm beneath you."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

"I'm a Tarkheena, Shasta. That means something here. How am I supposed to identify with some nobody? Oh sorry, I forgot. You're the son of a fisherman." Aravis pronounced the last word with great distaste, almost as if she had really smelled the rank odor of Arsheesh's hut. Shasta looked at her as if he wasn't sure he could ever understand her unkindness.

"I'm not really his son, you know. Besides we're both running to the same place, even if we're not running from the same place. Isn't that enough?" It was for him to invite himself into their company. As, for Aravis reconsidering her initial first impression, that was little more than impossible. That would be unlearning everything she had been taught since birth, and she wasn't going to start that now.

"So why are you really going to the north? What's in it for you?"

"I've always wondered about it, the north. And now it's the key to my family. I'm from there I know I am. It's not just my skin; it's a feeling that I have."

"Oh I see. So now you're psychic."

"Okay if my reason is so stupid why don't you tell your "real reason" for escape?" Cor asked mimicking Aravis's haughty tones.

"Obviously you wouldn't understand. I mean it's not as if you know anything about my life."

"Try me. I know more than you think." Cor's tone held a challenge in it that unnerved Aravis. She could never back down from a challenge.

"Alright. Well as a Tarkheena I have a sense of honor and duty. That marriage proposal was my duty and I didn't fulfill it. More importantly, my father, the most important member of my household practically commanded me to it. No good ever comes of disobedience. I mean, haven't you ever heard of the story of why Calormenes say the phrase 'to hear is to obey'?"

"Of couse. Arsheesh told it to me a million times so I would attend to my chores better. Tash created the universe full of men and beasts. Soon, however, he noticed the men were fighting with each other without cause. Now Tash, as a deity fond of war, approved of fighting in general, but not of fighting with a lack of a purpose. First he placed his son, the Tisroc, on the highest seat of the world so he would rule over all. Next, Tash created the Tisroc's advisors and army so that they would serve the Tisroc in his diplomacy and strengthen him in his politics. Tash also created Tarkaans and Tarkheenas to give the Tisroc high ranking, loyal followers. Then after creating palace people, Tash decided to give the Tisroc people to rule over. So he created merchants and tradesman and other such people. Finally Tash decided to create beggars and men who were in charge of cleaning up after the masses so they would be the foundation of the status symbol and to give the merchants and tradesmen a sense of importance."

"But you forgot the last part," Aravis chimed in. "Tash then brings all the men before him and says that to them 'There is very little difference between you. All I have done is create order to stop your senseless brawls. Now that every man has his place this fighting should cease. But I remind you that the only thing that seperates a Tarkhaan from a beggar is-"

"The honor and glory bestowed by Tash" Shasta recited the line in the dull tone one gets from memorizing something that has been repeated to them over and over again. "But what does honor have to do with your escape?"

"There was no future for me in Calormene if I didn't marry Ahosta," Aravis said with a slight shudder. "My father would have disowned me." Aravis said this with her spine stiff, sitting straight up and her legs folded in typical Calormene style. Only her face betrayed the fear of a twelve year old girl at losing her family. "I'd rather run away"

"That sounds pretty bad," said Shasta looking at Aravis for a moment and then staring at the stars. They seemed to take up the whole of the inky black sky. "At least I didn't know my family so I didn't have them to lose. But still. It's hard leaving your life. None of us knows what we'll find in the North." For a while Shasta and Aravis sat there in silence, starting at the stars. The immense sense of wonder at beholding the long stretch of night sky rendered them speechless.

"Well, I can think of one thing," Aravis said in a soft tone that she had only now chosen to speak to Shasta in. "Home." She didn't like how small her voice had suddenly become, how constricted her throat was.

"Yeah," Shasta echoed mildly wondering at that simple word. And then he continued in a more realistic tone. "If we're lucky." One corner of Aravis's mouth pushed upward as a small smile unfurled across her face. He had said "we". The word had a nice ring to it, not so much concerning his value as a partner just the fact of seeking her fortune with another person—any other person. The wide, wide world was easier to face when you had another person to face it with. Even if that person was a firsherman's foster son.

"So, Tarkheena, what are your big plans for the North?" Shasta asked his tone light and teasing. "I think we can check marriage off the list. A legion of servants at your every beck and call?" Aravis rolled her eyes at him and resumed her haughty tone, although this time it was affected.

"Starting a new a new life with only one legion of servants? I shall need two legions at the very least. One to carry my silks and one all the jewels fit for one of my station."

"You don't ask for much do you?" Shasta said "I would have asked for at least three myself."

"Well what about you fish boy? A nice hut by the river?" Aravis's tone held only a hint of malice at these words; nothing could fully change her mind about their difference in stations after all.

"Oh no. I was thinking more about a palace. It would be greater even than the Tisroc's, but there would be no slaves, just servants happy to work there."

"Ah, so you want your honor and glory bestowed by Tash just as much as the rest of us."

"Of course, I'd have to be a fool not to!" Shasta said with a pointed glance in her direction

"Then maybe you should marry Ahosta."

"Ah. Well then, maybe I should just stick to bestowing my own honor and glory."

"That's not the way it works," objected Aravis, the smile fading slightly from her voice. "We as humans can't bestow our own honor."

"No, think about it. A man makes a prince, not the other way around." Slowly, albeit reluctantly, Aravis was starting to see a grain of truth in Shasta's words.

"But you've never had a title. I've spent my whole life trying to live up to mine."

"Well stop trying. Here we are escaping from everything we've ever known. It's time to take your fate into your own hands." The chatter died after that, the weight of Shasta's words lying on them both. There was a certain emptiness that came along with seeking a new life, Aravis thought. An emptiness she didn't quite want to face. So instead of facing it she looked at the stars. Each of them created their own brilliance, lighting up the darkness around them. It couldn't be possible for people to do that all by themselves, could it? Aravis knew that if she wasn't a Tarkheena she'd be like every other beggar's brat or common person that she saw running in front of the litters of her and her friends. Her status was a safety blanket, a parachute, something that fed her and clothed her and got her the best of everything. Unril one day it imprisoned her.

"And now I can never go back," Aravis murmured aloud to the darkness.

"It's your escape," Shasta answered sleepily. How did he always manage to do that? Did he advise people in sleep as well as in his waking hours? More likely, he was one of those annoyingly light sleepers. Aravis tossed and turned in the grass after this realization, just to annoy him.

"Our escape," Aravis corrected sounding condescending even in a tone above a whisper, her voice muffled by the light stupor of sleep. Aravis wouldn't have been able to see it with her eyes closed, but a wide grin slowly spread out across Shasta's face. Shasta savored in the fact that he had officially won her consent to the journey. It may have been a small victory, but for now it would do. In matters concerning Aravis, Shasta was willing to take what he could get.