Finn's tears usually meant nothing to Keiro. His oathbrother was, as he had plainly told him on numerous occasions, too soft for his own good. But that was back then, back when any talk of escape was considered treason and any display of real emotion was seen as weakness and any display of weakness was sure to mean death. And although Keiro never had been one to change his reasoning, as that would mean admitting that he had been wrong in the first place, one of the first things he had learned about the outside was that it was different.
So that was why on the first night after everything had seemed to right itself once and for all, or at least given them a new view other than upside down for the time being, for the first time in a long time, he realized that he cared. Claudia was off somewhere, talking to so and so of such and such background of what Keiro could only assume were matters concerning the soon-to-be queen. Attia had somehow managed to fall into what appeared to be an uneasy sleep, a process that Keiro had given up altogether for the time being, with the memories still so fresh and vivid in his mind. So he'd set out to look for Finn, thinking that his oathbrother was perhaps the only one who would understand without him having to lose face in explaining.
As he knew he'd said before that Finn's tears meant nothing to him, before he was sure he'd never seen him this way. The small figure was slumped back on the ground against an old rotting log that Keiro was sure had once been magnificent, strong tree with bright green leaves and tough outer bark (or seemed to be at least). His knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, head buried in the crook of one elbow and it was painfully obvious that it wasn't the cold making him tremble.
It took most of what he had (and just a little of what he didn't) not to simply roll his eyes and leave him, to wander off and wallow in his own pain alone, just as Finn had done. But he was beginning to learn that being a brother had different meanings here, that in the prison you had to protect someone from mere existence and Outside you protected them from themselves.
Finn barely looked up as Keiro stepped closer, pulling the end of his coat free from a loose branch and reaching up with one hand to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face. He came to a halt a few feet away from his oathbrother, one eyebrow raising ever so slightly in a signature, skeptical glance before dropping down into a crouch beside him.
"I thought all this would stop once we got out." Keiro wasn't quite sure where the words had come from or the sudden sharp distaste in his voice, but as Finn raised his head ever so slightly and surveyed him with a pained glance, he knew that his brother was thinking the exact same thing.
"we did the right thing Keiro, didn't we?" Finn's voice was quiet and waver-y as he leaned his head back to stare up at the overcast sky above them, only a few bright stars shining through the dark clouds that obscured the beauty, the peacefulness, the hope. And to that he had no response, merely giving a small snort of some long lost sarcasm for the situation as he slumped down to sit shoulder to shoulder with the smaller figure beside him.
He decided not to comment when Finn slid that extra inch closer and leaned into his side, or when he felt his brother's shoulders begin to shake or the small choked noise he made as he buried his face in his hands once more.