Arrosh stood when they entered and only sat when they had placed themselves on the sofa that was in front of his chair. Aravis, his sister, looked as though she was going to insist he sat in a more comfortable spot. Before she could speak, he sat cross-legged on the chair, bowing his head to both hide the grimace of pain due to his leg and show respect, "With your permission, I would like to begin at once." Time was of the essence. He inhaled and willed his muscles to relax. They wouldn't believe him if he was as a stone wall that spoke.

"Please, speak." His sister answered. It was strange to think of her as his sister. She was a queen in a far off land and he was a pauper. She left for freedom and he was stuck behind. He could barely remember her. But the resemblance to their father was unmistakable. Her face said she wanted to believe him. The king was another matter. It was him Arrosh had to convince.

Arrosh bobbed his head again and fixed his eyes on the wall between the couple, "12 years ago, a young woman, nearly a girl, came to the doors of my father's house. When the servant pronounced that Aravis had come home, father grew dark and his wife near hysterics. The nurse took me away before I could greet you. I admit, I did not remember you well but the name I knew. I knew I wanted to see the face that belonged to the name I remembered. I snuck to the door and peeked in while my nanny was searching for me. Who did I see?" Arrosh looked to Aravis, letting the truth in his eyes come through, "I saw you."

Cor leaned forward at this, "And why were you with your father and not off with your nurse when the servant came in to announce her coming? What time of the year was it?" Of course, it would be him who would ask the first questions.

Aravis waved a hand at her husband, "Please, let him finish. We can ask questions once he is finished."

Arrosh nodded, giving a short answer to the question, "It was the appointed time for visiting." He collected his thoughts, "Not a month after you left, we had to leave the only home I had ever known. When I asked why all father would say was, 'Your sister, Aravis, did this to us.' It was not until later that I discovered it was due to the Tisroc of the time having discovered the family's shame and declaring his disapproval on our household." At this, King Cor started to rise but Aravis merely looked pained and held her husband back.

"We moved often for a year before we found a shack on the coast of The Great Eastern Ocean. Father learned a building trade and taught me as well. His wife,"

He paused, letting his emotions show but not overcome him to tears. Men did not cry. He would not remember her body. He would move on. "His wife did not take the circumstances as well as father. The sun was dark in her eyes and the will to live left her. I found her bloodied body behind our home not two weeks after we came to stay in the shack. I was 6 years old." Both king and queen sunk into their seats further, eyes never leaving him.

He took a moment to let it set in, then continued, "After that, my father became a harsh man, refusing to leave the soil that now held his wife, being too poor to buy a tomb or even make the proper sacrifices to the gods." His heart clenched and he looked down to his slippered feet. Why did scraping and begging have to be so hard?

"We have struggled on for the past eleven years, doing what we could to survive. Iliz, my little sister, was hired out as a maid and nursemaid assistant when she turned 7.

"This year, there was a famine in the land, and we longed for the sweet kiss of death many a long night. Last month, my father became ill. We were unable to purchase the medicine and he knew death grew near." Showing his emotion was no longer an option, he couldn't show it or dwell on it any longer. It would consume him. He held back the fire in his eyes, lest the slippers ignite into flames.

"However, slave traders came through and father saw his chance for life." Arrosh desperately tried to keep the tears from his eyes, he looked up at them, "He sold her." He knew he wasn't a proper storyteller or one that could keep the attention of a crowd, but they needed to believe him. They had to. They were his only chance. They didn't know what he had done.

"The medicine did no good and merely prolonged his suffering. He died less than two weeks ago.

"That's the only reason I am here. She will be dead by the time I earn enough money to buy her back and to steal her back would be the death of both of us. I have no one to turn to." He looked into the eyes of his estranged sister and knew she believed him. "Please, help me."

XXX

Aravis knew it was true. Deep in her bones, she could feel it. By Aslan, it was all her fault this had happened. His story made sense and the beginning had lined up with what had happened. She had seen Arrosh in the doorway with his twinkling little eyes before he dashed away while she tried to make peace with her father.

A/N: Thank you all, again such nice and helpful reviews! I will keep the suggestions in mind. :)

I really am trying on the chapter length, I promise. XP

Mid-terms are coming up soon so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to write, honestly. But I'll try. *Queue me putting my hands on my hips in a dramatic pose*