This time, Kaitanu saw the embrace from a mile off and so was more prepared, though this was no happy, affectionate hug. Tim's fingers dug into his back through his satin shirt, while his tears stained the material. Kaitanu only registered that fact because he would have to make sure those stains never showed; Master Edmund's personal slave could never be seen to be less than presentable. It was a sad reality of a slave's life that their thoughts could never be their own. Always they were aware of how everything would look to their masters, so what should have been a private moment was left bare to the men and women who owned them.
Technically slaves were not even allowed to admit unhappiness, or to comfort their fellows. It was seen as leading to discontent and rebellion; at least in Ravok it had been. If anyone else should see them like this it would bring swift reprisals. Kaitanu could feel the prickle of warning along his back; Jed or one of the others might come in at any moment and spot them. The old fear of pain rose up like a hard lump in his throat, nearly choking him with rising panic. If the kelvic had really cared about Tim he would advise him to stop crying at once and pretend all was well, saving both further trouble. It was a lesson he had learned after many hard years; anything other than fawning servitude was punished, and he had the scars to prove it.
However, Kaitanu couldn't bring himself to be so harsh, not with that trembling body clinging to him so desperately. Rather than push Tim away, he wrapped both arms around the boy and held him close, long, pale fingers threaded through Tim's dusty hair as he sobbed. Kaitanu hadn't known what to do until that instant, following a strange instinct that suddenly presented itself. He didn't know where it came from, yet it had felt vaguely familiar and, more to the point, it seemed to be what Tim needed at the moment. If anyone understood what he was feeling it would have been another slave, even one like Kaitanu, who had long ago been numbed. The pale slave was not yet so dead that Tim's despair didn't somehow reach him.
However, he said nothing in reply to Tim for a long time. Words seemed useless, even though the boy continued to whisper miserably to Kaitanu. His taller friend simply didn't know what to say in return, but held Tim in silence, rubbing his back and stroking his hair because he could think of no better way to help. There could be no lasting comfort for the poor boy, only a future of scars and being broken and beaten and starved. Kaitanu held him close because he could do nothing to shield Tim from what surely awaited, even if he wished he could. Though not tall himself, Tim's head barely came to his shoulder, and the boy's tear-stained face was buried against his chest. He was still just a child…
If Kaitanu had the ability for strong emotion anymore, he would have been filled with anger for Tim's sake at that thought. The kelvic slave was feeling more than usual, though in a muted way. He even experienced a little burst of warmth to hear that the boy wanted to stay where Kaitanu was. Tim seemed genuinely distressed at, not just leaving in general, but leaving the kelvic behind. That was a singular experience for Kaitanu, who could not remember having meant anything to anyone. Did he truly mean something to Tim? Only with that thought, looking down into wide, despairing eyes, did it sink in that Kaitanu would miss the boy in return. He'd never missed anyone that he could recall…but he couldn't remember much to begin with; just vague impressions and images. Forgetting was a matter of survival, even if it wasn't a matter of choice. Now Kaitanu wished his mind could work properly, if only to recall one person, and the feelings he'd felt in Tim's presence. He didn't want to go back to being blank in Tim's case, Kaitanu wanted to remember him.
As the boy pulled back, his taller companion watched him almost eagerly, as if trying to commit his looks and voice to some part of his mind that wasn't fractured. But Tim's promises to remember him brought Kaitanu sharply back to reality. Like so many other slaves, he would be made to forget, until any memory of kindness would seem like some distant night vision, unprofitable upon waking. For Kaitanu, there was little left but the knowledge of what had come before, returning in force at odd moments, then retreating like an indifferent tide. Even now he could only recall that he was from Ravok, that things were dark and dreadful, but no details, no clear faces. Every time he tried to open his mind to it, the pain and darkness were too great. If there was anyone there who had been like Tim he couldn't bring the memories back, no matter how hard he tried.
Kaitanu feared that things would be much the same now. It was easy enough for the boy to make promises because he didn't know what lay ahead; for Kaitanu, it was a great deal harder. Being a slave made him a liar every day, an actor on a stage his masters built. A slave said what was expected, not what was true. With Tim, he didn't want his words to be empty, to be just playing a part like always. He wanted to prepare the boy, somehow, for what was ahead, to tell him the hard truth so he would be ready.
However, looking into those wide green eyes, feeling warm hands pressed over his own, Kaitanu found himself unable to speak for a long while. How could he shatter what light was left? How could he tell the boy that they would forget one another because there was no other choice; that memories of loved ones were only for the free? How could he say that Tim's prayers were fruitless, that there were no gods, no kindness, no mercy in the world? Experience had taught Kaitanu the truth, but looking into those trusting eyes it died on his lips. Perhaps it was selfish, but he couldn't take this last moment of belief from the boy, his only friend.
Leaning in a bit closer, he nodded, keeping his hands very still between Tim's. "I swear, to any gods who are listening, I won't ever forget you, Timothy Mered. Let my heart remember you when all else fails." That was as close to a prayer as the kelvic slave had ever ventured. In his mind, no god-like beings existed, but perhaps it would work on his own heart. He hadn't been so desperate to remember something, or someone, in a long time.
After a long pause, Kaitanu slipped his hands from their gently trapped position, using his fingers to dry Tim's watery eyes. Prayers spoken to empty and unfeeling air would profit little, if anything, and he felt his duty to the boy lay in more practical terms. Even if he couldn't bring himself to completely disillusion his friend, he could dispense some hard-earned advice for survival.
"Do not let them see you cry." he whispered seriously. "Never let them see how you truly feel. Not even other slaves can be trusted; keep your true self here." A pale hand, the fingertips moist with tears, pressed over Tim's heart. "They will take everything they find, so hold your true self close. Remember, slaves have no thoughts or feelings, only what their master gives them. Show them only what they want to see, no matter what they do or say, and they will look no further."
Taking Tim's hands again and squeezing them briefly, he straightened and let his arms fall to his sides. But though his gaze flickered often to the other doors in the workshop, Kaitanu hesitated. They would likely never see one another again, so he was loathe to part from the only friend he knew. Quite apart from that, Kaitanu hated to leave Tim in his present state. Physically, he was unsure of how to further comfort the boy, so he stood there awkwardly, a deep frown on his face.
"Do you know when Master Jed plans to sell you?" the pale slave asked after a moment, his voice barely audible. There might be a chance for him to slip in before that happened, on the pretense of doing business.
