With his stomach content, a lack of pressing duties – or any for that matter, and the lethargy that tended to overcome the mind when in one place for too long, Arrosh lounged back in his hammock. A good gaze into the world between his vision and his mind was just what he needed. To let his thoughts run their course. Who knew when he would have the chance to again? It wasn't as if they would be still for long once they were in port. Gods and fortune permitting, everything would fall into place quickly. With this in mind, the boy chose a spot among the slats of wood in churning ship and began to let his thoughts slide.
Aravis' story, it still rattled in his mind, how much of it was embellished? Surely, she hadn't truly met with that terrible Narnian god and he had not acted as such. One did not meet the gods. You gave offerings, if you could, and hoped they looked on you with favor or did what you wanted them to. People were the toys of the gods and the gods a being to be manipulated for good favor by the people. He could nearly believe that she'd found talking horses that had been stolen away and a boy who was running away as well. He could even believe that she had been chased by lions. They weren't particularly rare creatures. But that the lions – or lion rather was the Narnian demon? What had it been doing in Calormen lands? No. It couldn't be.
Her reasoning at the time for leaving had been as he'd suspected, a child bride doomed to marry an old, corrupt man. But that the boy she traveled with turned out to be the lost prince of a far-off land? Though, how else had she managed to insert herself into the royal court of Archenland? It was all so much.
Was she truly one of the reasons Tisroc Rabidash's, may he live forever, plans had been foiled when he was a prince? The man had been turned into a donkey! Arrosh had been too young to fully know of it when it had happened, but he had heard the stories. They were the main reason he knew of Narnia's demon god. The way Aravis spoke of him, though, it didn't sound as if she thought of the god as some terrible creature. She spoke of it with almost a fondness and reverence. These barbarian ways were so strange. How long had it taken her to become accustomed to them? Would he have to do the same? Would he ever be able to return home? Or would he have to try building a life in a strange land with people he didn't understand?
"What's Calormen like?" The slightly nasal voice of the young knight that pierced his consciousness was as kindly taken and welcome as a spike to the head would be. "I've never been there before. Heard it is dreadfully hot, though."
Arrosh thought of ignoring him, the man was in the hammock below and wouldn't know whether he was asleep or awake. But the stupidity of the last statement was enough to nudge him into speaking, "I fear you have been told wrong, sir. Calormen is quite cold. Our winters are the worst and summers are short."
"Truly?" The man's raised an octave, "I heard it from a crew member aboard this ship."
Arrosh smiled some, though the man couldn't see it, "He was correct, sir." He watched as a small rat clambered across a beam and shuddered, "I was merely joking."
"Lying is more like it, boy." Orran piped up, his deep voice in synchrony with the thunder that was starting outside. "Like all your other tales."
Arrosh said nothing to that and, by the shifting below, the knight was not comfortable confronting his superior. That, or he agreed and had not the guts to say so.
"Oh, leave the boy alone, Sir Orran. You are the only one on this ship that doesn't believe him and I wouldn't suggest you let Queen Aravis hear you speak as such." Corin spoke from the doorway, his voice seemed off handed enough but there was a hard edge laced into the words. His point was clear. They were here on royal orders and they were not to be questioned.
Sir Orran and the young knight shot out of their hammocks with a speed that did them credit. Arrosh had only just sat up when Corin had already nodded for them to stand down.
"Yes, Prince Cor!"
Corin nodded, "Good." He walked down the lane to his own bunk, patting Arrosh's good leg on the way by. "Don't worry, old chap, we'll get your sister in no time." He stretched himself out on the hammock and soon began to sleep.
"What sort of animals are in Calormen, sir?"
Arrosh held back a sigh and laid back down. This was going to be a long journey.
Aravis perched on her bed, hand to her stomach and attempted to quell the urge to vomit into the bucket before her. She had been fine in fair weather but once the waves had become agitated, her stomach had other things to say. With how this felt, she would have almost preferred traveling across the desert once again. They were two days at sea. They were so close but it felt farther away than ever.
The room tilted and turned; her stomach heaved in protest along with the pitching of the sea. Aravis gave in, closing her eyes and curling in a ball on her bed. To be brought so low by a simple illness felt like a failure of the worst kind, though she knew it not to be so.
"Shall you be alright, your highness?" The small, squeaky voice of the mouse named Zeepijeet came from the doorway. She was small for a Narnian mouse with smooth, nut-brown fur and bright grey eyes. Aravis remembered when her family had come to immigrate to Archenland, the mouse had been quite young, before King Loon had died. Now here she was, nigh in her early 20s, prepared to be a messenger to the king if things went wrong.
Her heart twinged at the thought. If Arrosh was not true and all of this was a trap. Or one of the many other possibilities drawn out to her by Cor, who still did not fully trust the boy. While she disagreed with him, his doubt was infectious and she could not bring herself to shake the feeling that had begun to nibble at the corner of her heart. Thus, Arrosh did not know of Zeep.
"Yes, I'll be quite alright." Aravis replied finally, she had been thinking for too long. "I just need rest."
"As you wish, your highness." Zeep bowed, "I am at your command whenever you desire." She walked to a corner in the room that held a bed her size and a basket with several of her things. From it, she plucked up a small crochet hook and yarn, continuing a hat she had been making.
"Thank you, Zeep." Aravis muttered before curling in on herself and tried to distract herself from thoughts of being ill.
Narnia, without a single regent to head them, the entire royal family missing. What had happened to them? Captured? Lost? It was difficult to believe that Edmund and Peter – or even Lucy could get lost in the woods of Narnia. It wasn't impossible though. If they had been captured then a ransom would have been sent, surely.
Lucy's story of the wardrobe niggled in the back of her mind. If she had found one to get in to Narnia, could she have found another to get out? No. Impossible. The sibling regents would never leave their country to such a fate. Not intentionally. They would have to be forced. Their love for their people wouldn't allow them to simply abandon them.
What would happen if they weren't found? Chaos. With there being four of them, they hadn't thought to say who the throne was to go to if anything were to happen to all of them. There was nearly always at least one regent at Car Paravel in times of war. But there weren't any wars happening. What had happened? Bree's oldest foal had been the one to take the message along with a dwarf named Brodlefink. All they knew was that the royals had gone on a hunt and hadn't returned.
Aravis curled in more and decided that simply focusing on not being sick might be the better course of action.
The storm came upon them and day morphed into night. The ship rolled and tilted as the heavens rained their wrath from above. Prayers slipped from the mouths of the men both above and below deck. This had turned out to be far worse than expected.
There was nothing to do but wait. Attempts to sleep were lost for Arrosh, his thoughts felt as though he had shaken them up in a jar and was unable to think properly. The young knight had become ill once the storm hit and the quarters stank of his sick.
Unable to stand it any longer, Arrosh kicked his feet out of the hammock and dropped to the floor, wincing as his injured leg gave a throb in protest. It had healed mostly, but was prone to giving mild complaints when in use.
This was the worst time to explore and possibly the best. He hadn't heard much from Orran in some time. With the large man itching for a reason to hurt him, Arrosh hadn't thought it prudent to give him an excuse. Mayhaps he was ill as well. With a cast of his gaze around, he saw that Prince Corin had left the quarters and Orran was laying in his hammock.
"Where are you going, boy?" He was within two steps of the door when the rumble came from directly behind him.
"Just going for a short walk, sir." Arrosh did not turn around. The ship jolted and he stumbled a few paces to the side, holding himself against the frame. He may have had his sea legs but he sure didn't have storm legs. He gave a grin to the man over his shoulder, beginning to be fed up with being trapped in a floating box, "Figured it seemed to be the perfect time."Not for one moment had he liked his time on the previous ship and this one was much the same.
"So you can poison our provisions?" Orran's laugh rumbled along with the thunder sounding up above, "I think not." The ship shuddered again and both steadied themselves.
Arrosh turned finally, bracing himself against the door frame, "Sir, I do not care what you think of me or who you think I am or not." He glared with all the contempt in his being, "But your accusations are unfounded and unnecessary. I have shown no signs of malice towards any of you. I just want my sister back." He looked away, taking his weight off of the door frame, "I -" The ship tumbled once again and Arrosh found himself falling towards a less than tidy pile of spare hammocks and ropes that had inhabited a corner of the room. Landing on top of them with a hard thud, a cry came from beneath.
"What was that?" Orran asked, his suspicions of Arrosh momentarily forgotten. He took a step forward, pushing Arrosh aside and lifted the hammocks away from the floor. Beneath them, curled in a tight ball, was a girl.
"By Tash." Arrosh cursed, "Why is she here?"
The girl, pale and thin, sat up slowly, keeping her hands up, her features mostly hidden in the swinging lamp light of the ship, "Please, I, I don't mean any harm."
"What are you doing here, girl?" Orran asked, his arms folded and stance wide against the throws of the ship. Unfortunately, it seemed that he was gaining his storm legs. Or at least below deck storm legs.
The girl kept her gaze on the floor, shoulders hunched as though expecting a blow, "My brother, sir. He is all I have left, besides Aslan." Her voice, it sounded familiar.
"What is his name, child?" His words weren't unkind, yet they gave little room for kindness.
"Morri, sir."
"Morri, eh?" Corin's voice sounded from the doorway, he stood with an arm against the door frame and his eyebrow quirked, "You mean the lad who stunk up the place with his sick?"
"Your majesty! Your majesty!" The high, urgent cries from Zeep came from above as Aravis willed her eyes to open. So much for sleep.
"Yes, Zeepijeet?" She answered, careful to keep the agitation from her voice. It wouldn't do any good to let the mouse know she wasn't pleased with the situation. What was done was done. She sat up and looked for the mouse.
Zeep was perched upon one of the beams above, "I was patrolling the ship whilst you slept, your highness, and on my way back to check on you I made an alarming discovery."
Though there was nothing left for it to give, her stomach still clenched and roiled within her. "Just tell me, please." She sighed, if it was alarming then it would be best for her to go out there and deal with it if need be. Standing, she looked for her mirror to make sure she did not seem too rumpled before her subjects. There was no way to be properly dignified before them, as she more than likely would stumble around a bit as the ship weathered the storm.
"The prince, Arrosh, and Sir Orran have discovered a young lady as a stowaway on the ship!" Zeep bounced some, "With the Captain dealing with the storm they are trying to decide what to do with her."
Aravis looked up from where she had found the mirror, "Truly?" She did one last fix of her hair, "Who in their right minds would want to stow away to Calormen?"
"I know not, your highness." The young mouse conceded, "I did not stop for long to listen. I was more concerned with alerting you." She bowed her head, "I apologize, your majesty."
"Quite alright, Zeepijeet." Aravis smiled up at her, "Please, show me to her and then continue to stay out of sight for now." She would brave the outside of her room and overcome this illness. Who knew what Sir Orran would think to do with the girl? Probably lock her up until the captain could deal with her. Corin would more than likely be of the same mind.
"Did I hear my name?" The slight groan came before the young knight swung his legs out of the hammock with near infinite care. Even as he rose, he wretched some and stumbled towards the cluster of people at the door. As a whole, the cluster of people took a step back. When he didn't immediately reveal the contents of his stomach, the steps back didn't continue.
"Yes, Sir Morri, we did, in fact." Prince Corin didn't have a smile on his face for once, walking towards the young man gesturing to the girl, "There is a young lady here claiming to be your sister."
The man looked over towards the girl, squinting against the lighting and his eyebrows rose despite his hunched posture, "Fesh?"
Aravis walked into a whirlwind of words and noise, Sir Morri, the young man who Cor had recently knighted, was talking back and forth with a girl who couldn't have been more than a teenager, then apologizing to Corin, before going back to the girl.
"Why are you here, Fesh? You shouldn't be here."
"I couldn't stay back there! You know how he is. He knew you were leaving."
"You should have said something!" The man looked like he was aging years as the seconds went by, he glanced at Corin, "I am so very sorry, your highness. I -"
"What is this I hear about a stowaway on the ship?" Aravis held herself tall, braced against the movement of the ship with her hands primly over her middle, and effectively silenced the room.
She looked over at the girl, keeping her cold exterior, "What is your name and why are you here?"
"Your majesty!" The men took a knee and the girl gave as deep a curtsy as the movement of the ship would allow.
Aravis waved them in dismissal, "Answers, please."
"My name is Fesh, your majesty." The girl looked up at her, only a slight quiver in her lips, "I came because my brother is the only family I have left and where we live is not safe if he is not there to keep the land owner's son afraid of retribution."
A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and follows! They're really appreciated. :D 3