"Do you eat frogs in your country? Do you have giants there?" Came the fast-paced questions that only a child could ask without causing offense. Fortunately, the asker was, in fact, a 10-year-old boy who went by the name of Ram, "We don't but Narnia does on one of her borders. I can't remember which one." He was a well rounded little boy, face still shining with baby fat and his skin a comely mix of his two parents. For the heir-prince, he was a surprisingly nice child and not stuck up like many other rich children Arrosh remembered meeting in his short life. After finding out that Arrosh was his uncle he merely grinned and cheered that he now had two uncles instead of the one.

Arrosh smiled a bit, "We do not eat frogs and we don't have giants." He paused, as if thinking, then said, "We do have ghouls, however."

"What are-"

"Arrosh," Cor called from across the table, speaking for the first time that night, "You said you learned the building trade from your father, what did you build?" While his tone was not as skeptical nor suspicious as before, Arrosh could still guess why he was asking.

The young man bit back a heavy sigh, the man had plied him with questions for nearly an hour after he had told his tale. How had he gotten here? Why did ye go that way? Now, here he was at it again. Was it possible to just move on and accept it? At least, he thought wryly, the king was asking all the wrong questions.

Arrosh nodded, refusing to shovel his food into his mouth and reveal just how hungry he was, "We built mostly summer homes and beach houses for the rich. Father and I bounced from crew to crew, not good enough to stay for any length of time. Unfortunately, it is not a lucrative business at the best of times." Arrosh couldn't help but shift in his chair, uncomfortable talking about his misfortune to them. At least now that Aravis had believed him that is. He felt like an intruder here, wearing foreign clothes and the hot bath having made him cleaner than he could ever remember being. He was nothing and always would be. But for his little sister? He'd do anything. Especially after what he did. It was his fault that he couldn't get her out without having to come all the way out here.

Cor seemed to be about to make a comment but was interrupted by his incessant offspring. Ram leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table, utensils held firmly in his fists, "Can you fight? Boxing? Sword fighting?" That open, kind face reminded Arrosh so much of Iliz that it felt as though his heart was to burst from his chest. Why couldn't it have been him who was sold? By Tash, he would burn every slaver who had ever touched her to the ground.

Arrosh chewed the inside of his lip and looked down to his plate of food he had taken such care to eat at a normal pace, "I am afraid not young one." He smiled at him, "You probably know more of the arts than I do."

"Uncle Corin could teach you!" The boy crowed, shoveling food into his mouth while trying to speak, "He's-"

"I could teach who what now?" The booming voice of a man, who looked nearly the same as Cor, came, "I apologize for my tardiness, brother, I got caught up in a boxing match and had to clean up first." The small bandage above his eyebrow was proof enough of that remark, "Now, I was told, in the invitation, we were to dine with a long lost brother." He glanced at the young man before him, "By Jove! This definitely has to be the lad. He looks just like Aravis! I don't see how there could be any doubt." He grinned, clapping the boy on the shoulder and causing him to wince, "Welcome to the family, lad. I'm afraid my idiot brother has neglected to tell me your name." He stuck out his hand, an impish grin that made him look years younger spread across his face, "I'm Corin, definitely the most handsome of the royal twins by far."

Cor sighed, his hope of an ally with his lingering suspicions dashed. There was something the boy wasn't telling. He could feel it. Aravis was too spellbound by the story and boy to even consider alternate possibilities. All the what-ifs. In truth, it might take Aslan himself to make him fully believe. There had to be more to it.

Arrosh gripped his hand and bowed his head, uncertain of what sort of custom he was supposed to perform. Bowing was the norm in Calormen. Not whatever this was. "I am Arrosh. It's an honor to meet you." He let go of the hand, hoping he hadn't caused offense.

Corin gave a light-hearted laugh and plopped himself on the chair between Arrosh and Ram. He ruffled the younger boy's hair, smiling, "And how goes training, Ramlet?"

"Can you teach Uncle Rosh to fight?" Ram hopped up and down in his chair, ignoring his uncle's question, "He says he don't know how!"

"Already got nicknames, eh?" Corin chuckled. Quickly distracted, his eyes widened at the plate of food set before him by a servant, "Thank you, Enalin." He dug into the food as though famished. Manners, apparently, were only for when guests were around.

Before the little boy could answer, an older woman came in, curtsied to the king and queen, then a smaller one for Corin, "I apologize for the intrusion, your highnesses, but I fear it is time for the young prince to come away for a bath and prepare for bed."

Ram groaned and tilted his head back, "Not yet, Nanny. Please." He proceeded to plead with her with his eyes, "I promise I'll be good going bed."

"Go on, Ram." Aravis waved him away with a smile, "You shall see your uncles tomorrow."

The boy knew he was defeated and slumped a bit, "Yes, mother." He got off the chair with a big show, then started around the table giving a hug and a "Good night."

Coming to Arrosh last, Ram barreled into the older boy and hugged him tight, "Good night!" He pulled away saying as he left, "You really should have Uncle Corin teach you to fight. It's such fun!" At this, he started chattering to the nanny, telling her all about what little he knew about his newfound uncle - exaggerating as children tend to do.

Arrosh smiled some and gave a wave. Ram was a good sort and the gods bless him for making this dinner that much easier. Now that he was gone, what was to happen? A pit knotted in his stomach and he took a bite of food in an attempt to wash it away.

Before silence could descend on the group, Corin sat forward, "So, I've been told little of the situation we have come to but I do know there is a little girl in dire need of our assistance." He gestured around as though conjuring her up himself, "What's the plan?"

Cor looked up from his food, "A plan? What plan?"

XXXX

Aravis watched her brother, he was her brother most certainly and that she knew, out of the corner of her eye in an attempt not to stare at him. It rarely worked. Yet as much as she looked at him and wondered, the words refused to come and she found herself a mute in his presence.

What sort of life had he lived because of her? Had he suffered much? Though Archenlander's clothing was loose and willow,y she could tell he was a few bites from starvation before coming here. As he spoke with Ram she could see his light-hearted smiles and fun remarks to keep a young boy interested. But there was a deep sadness in his eyes that not even a smile could hide. He was hurting and it was all her fault.

Finally, she was able to say, "Then this is the perfect time to make a plan." She managed a smile at her brother, "Let's get started."

XXX

A/N ~ I live! Sorry for the long wait but the world kind of went to crap after midterms and let's just say that writing hasn't been very high on my list lately. But I'm quarantining for now so hopefully, that means I'll have some time to write. Knowing myself, though, I'll find everything else to do but that. XD

(I really am trying to get longer chapter lengths. I promise.)

Stay safe everyone and read fanfics!