Don't we all just love Cor and Aravis arguing bull-headedly? Thank you to Heyna Blackstar and saintdare for reviewing last time. Onto the next chapter.

The Shelter – Cor

It was absurd. They were stranded on an island with no idea where they were or how they were going to get home and Aravis wanted to make separate shelters.

Cor understood he was also partially to blame for why they were both now using their daggers to hack at different palm trees, but he couldn't just give in.

That would be like handing Aravis to Lord Arigan himself.

It didn't matter anyway. Cor was going to build the best shelter this island had ever seen and then maybe it would rain and then maybe Aravis would come to his shelter, her hair soaking wet, her muscles tense, and ask to be allowed in.

He would allow her to stay in his shelter if she asked.

After all, she could admire the ingenuity better from the inside. And then she would see that his shelter was more than good enough.

That he was more than enough.

More than some stupid Narnian Lord with a pretty face.

He hacked at another palm tree. He figured it was probably better to use the upright palm trees as part of the structure because fallen palm trees were a pain in the backside to cut and shape.

Especially when he had to build the whole shelter by himself and all he had at his disposal was a dagger.

He'd had to release his sword when he'd fallen overboard in the storm because otherwise it would have dragged him to a watery grave.

He'd been underwater for a few seconds when he'd first fallen from the deck and he remembered vividly scrabbling with his scabbard, trying to stave off his panic for a few dizzying seconds. And then he'd managed to release the buckle and the sword had fallen away. His fisher's boy instinct had kicked in then and he'd forged straight for the surface.

He and Aravis had both reached the barrel at the same time.

He still remembered the relief he'd felt when he'd seen her, the certainty that she was still alive and the gratitude that they were still together.

Ever since their escape from Calormen, he'd always thought they could survive anything as long as they were together.

He glanced along the beach to where Aravis was working away at her own fallen palm tree. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her clothes mercifully almost dry now.

He'd been trying very hard not to look at her whilst her shirt clung wet to her body, because they had both grown up quite a bit since their escape from Calormen.

But maybe that didn't matter.

Maybe they'd be alright anyway.

And at least one thing hadn't changed. Even after four years of being a crown prince, she still thought he was beneath her.

-O-

Cor finished his shelter first. It looked like a mess of branches and palm leaves, but at least it was solid and the palm leaves made for good roofing when layered together.

As he secured the last palm leaf in place, he gave it a satisfied nod.

Then he headed over to the coconuts he'd collected for food and water. They were lucky really to have landed on the island during harvesting season.

But it did mean that neither of them could really claim to have bettered the other when it came to finding food and water and indeed they both had the exact same number of coconuts.

Though actually it seemed like Aravis had snuck an additional coconut onto her pile whilst he'd been working on his shelter.

The sneaky little demon.

She was so immature sometimes.

Still, he couldn't allow her to get away with it so he walked casually over to the edge of the trees and found another two coconuts for himself. Then he deposited them neatly on his pile.

He could play the one-up game too.

In fact, he could play it better.

Coconuts acquired, he sat down by the barrel and watched Aravis as she continued to construct her own shelter.

He hoped the rest of their crew were okay. The storm had carried his and Aravis' barrel away so swiftly, he hadn't seen what had happened to the ship.

Yes, things weren't great between him and Aravis right now, but at least he knew what had happened to her. At least he knew she was alive. He would much rather be stranded on this island with her than find himself on the island alone wondering what had happened to her and praying to Aslan that she would be okay.

-O-

Aravis joined him a little while later as the sun began to dip beneath the tree line.

"I see you've finished your shelter," said Cor, leaning back against the barrel in what he hoped was a casual and vaguely superior fashion.

Aravis gave him one of her Tarkheena looks that said she was well aware he had finished building his shelter long before she had and she was not going to acknowledge it.

She scooped up a coconut from her own pile — not yet noticing he'd one-upped her — and smashed it against the side of the barrel to open it.

Then she plonked down in the sand next to him.

"I finished mine at least an hour ago," said Cor.

Aravis snorted, breaking off chunks of coconut.

"You may have finished your shelter faster," she said. "But it's probably shoddier work."

Cor scowled.

"You haven't even properly looked at it," he said. "There's no way you can make that assertion."

Aravis shrugged, then gave it a cursory glance. "Looks shoddier," she said.

Cor took a laboured breath. Why couldn't she just admit that he was just as capable as she was?

Impressive even. Desirable as a suitor.

"Well, I think yours looks shoddier," he said.

Aravis glared at him.

"I'm going to retire to my shelter now," she said curtly. "If you're truly more satisfied with the quality of yours, perhaps you might do the same."

"Perhaps I might," said Cor as she stalked off with her coconut.

I will post the next chapter in about a month.