3. Sedgar

It came as a relief that Prince Hardin noticed my predicament. The afternoon sun still streamed through the hallways and highlighted each contour of my new master's expression to perfection. There were still many hours remaining and many more tasks to be done before the sun set, but my body was physically reaching its limit.

There was still one last thing I had to overcome before I was rewarded with sleep.

I stood at the door, unable to reach for the handle and go in. Prince Hardin had left me now, saying that this was something I had to do myself and he had other errands to run. The door would lead me to the place I could nurse my battered body in time for tomorrow, but until I saw it for myself, it was just another room of uncertainty.

Prince Hardin had already told Sedgar about me, so perhaps he was already expecting me. He was apparently taken ill, which was primarily why he was here in the first place, but what if that was a lie? What if that excuse was only to lull me into a false sense of security and a full evening of discipline was lined up for me? He was my master after all.

I probably would have stood there until nightfall if I didn't hear the heavy footsteps approaching. Sedgar trumped being caught loitering, and my body dashed into the room swifter than I had moved all day. I narrowed my eyes slightly as I examined the opposite side of the door. I didn't feel safe without a bolt on the inside, but perhaps it was for the best. If my roommate turned out to be unpleasant, at least it gave me a way out.

The room was certainly more populated than I had expected. In all honesty, I hadn't expected anything to be in it except my roommate sprawled across his chosen spot. Instead, there were two odd structures either side of the room, reaching to the ceiling. They appeared to be beds, but they were stacked on top of one another and didn't boast size or luxury like the Pelhams'. It was certainly more practical and more efficient use of the space. There was a chest of drawers, set at the far side of the room decorated merely with a glass of water, to hide all kinds of mysterious belongings.

If there was anything I instantly liked about where I was to rest my head at night, it was reasonable sized hole in the wall allowed the fresh afternoon breeze in.

I noticed the bundle of clothes on the bed to the left. Prince Hardin had dubbed the clothes 'pyjamas'. I was supposed to change into them, so that the clothes I was wearing at the moment didn't get creased. It didn't make much sense to me, but even in spirit I won't quibble.

As I inched towards them, I heard the content breathing before I saw him. He was in the other lower bed, his face buried within the folds of the blankets. It didn't prove to be enough to cover his messy green hair, and it stuck out in so many different places it could almost have been grasslands.

I undressed warily, never taking my eyes off him so I knew instantly when he stirred awake. Despite my caution, he continued to breathe peacefully, blissfully ignorant of my presence. Even when I had successfully dressed into pyjamas, I still found it hard to tear my eyes away from him. He was fast asleep, content with where he was. For the moment, he was harmless.

A hand felt for the mattress, more out of curiosity than desire. I had no intention to sleep on such unstable foundations, but as no one was looking, I wanted to understand. I gingerly sat at the edge, and the bed gave a small groan. Sedgar didn't pay any attention, but the bed had made its dissatisfaction clear.

I snatched up the blanket and crossed the room for the one bit of floor that took my fancy: at the foot of Sedgar's bed.

It didn't take me long to settle down there, the arc of my back touching two sides of the room. The blanket was thicker than I had expected and it covered my frame very snugly. My body demanded sleep, but my mind was still wide awake. So long as I could hear the rhythmic inhales of Sedgar, I couldn't afford to be caught unaware. The air was fresher and I could hear the faint clamour elsewhere in the castle. In the Pelham Estate, there was only the scuttling of rats in the night (both the human-sized and smaller varieties). Even the floor, too, was unlike the basement.

I was well-accustomed to not getting much sleep. I woke to the sound of everything and I woke to the sound of nothing.

I sensed that Sedgar was no longer asleep, and the sudden movement somewhere above my head confirmed my speculations. The room had an orange glow to it now, and I imagined that somewhere beyond that window, the sky was absolutely stunning.

"Wolf?"

His drowsy voice disturbed the silence. Hearing my new name would take a while to get used to, but I still got onto my feet anyway.

Sedgar was struggling to sit upright, and when his eyes caught mine, he gave a sheepish smile. He raked a hand through his unkempt hair in an attempt to tame it. I had seen illness – Sedgar either didn't have those illnesses that killed my comrades or he had a very impressive immune system. He furrowed his eyebrows, perhaps debating whether to ask what I was doing on the floor. "Join me," he chose to reply instead. He scooted back on his bed and brought his legs up slightly.

I obeyed, but he couldn't command my thoughts. Somehow, he wasn't quite what I had expected. He seemed accommodating enough and he didn't seem too bothered about having me around. If he was my roommate, did that make him one of my comrades?

As I perched at the edge of his bed, I could see every other filthy rat I had worked with. One way or another, they all left me. How long would Sedgar last?

"I expect Coyote's already told you, but I'm Sedgar. I would normally have accompanied him on the slave liberating missions, but unfortunately the oysters had other plans for me." He blinked slowly. "What matters is you're safe now, and no one here is going to hurt you."

I didn't mention that no one did hurt me. As long as I did what I was expected, I could avoid everything that befell my comrades. There were times I was on the receiving end of frustration, but that didn't mean anything. I was a survivor; Master Pelham just happened to give that last order to me and not to anyone else. I was safe and content in the Estate. How was I any safer here?

My face didn't give anything away, but it didn't stop Sedgar trying. He yawned before continuing. "I won't lie and say it'd be easy to adjust. Ex-slaves can take weeks, sometimes months to adjust. We all have scars that can never heal, but we remember who we were before we sustained them. We had rights, memories and, for the most part, happy childhood before we were branded."

I narrowed my eyes somewhat. Sedgar spoke of his peers collectively, and it made me wonder just how many people Prince Hardin had forced out of the hands of nobles. He spoke of scars that can never heal, yet those were the very scars that made me who I was. He spoke of right, but the right of what? I couldn't imagine life before having a master – how did they obtain food or live with themselves, if there wasn't someone else to provide them?

Sedgar leaned forwards, the bed beneath us shifting oddly as he did so. He gave a sharp nod. "You're going to be my biggest challenge yet, and I promise you now that I won't give up on you." He gave a small laugh as he reached for the glass of water. "Sorry, I have a tendency to talk excessively when I'm nervous. I haven't crossed the line, have I?"

It wasn't the case of whether he had been talking at me or not. He clearly had a lot to tell me, and it was certain that he saw me as his responsibility more than a colleague. The other filthy rats in the Estate were tired for the most part, and the lot of us rarely had the energy to talk to each other. We talked only of the current matters, and before long they would submit to disease and fade before my eyes. They were the lucky ones.

I soon learnt that getting involved in other people only made the loss harder to deal with.

I was about to shake my head, but Sedgar held up a finger to stop me, downing the water as quick as he could. "I'd like to hear your answer in words, not actions. I want to hear your voice."

The answer didn't come out of me easily. The simple answer was 'no', but like Prince Hardin, I was convinced he wanted more than that. I had been taught short answers were desired; the rules were different here, and I had to adapt accordingly. "No, you haven't."

Sedgar was apparently happy with that answer. "That's good. If I do get boring, you mustn't be afraid to let me know. You can tell me absolutely anything." He looked at the empty glass before casting an odd look at me. "I'm really sorry to ask this just as we're starting to hit off, but would you mind getting some more water for me? This horrible taste in my mouth won't go away. The courtyard's-"

I snatched the glass as he was talking and didn't look back as I stormed out. Finally, I could do something I was good at.

A/N: Once again, thank you as always for taking the time to read this :) The more I write, the more ideas I seem to get and I've worked out where the 'climax' is going to be. It's definitely one of the grimmest fics I've written, so I hope you stick around for as long as that. In the meantime, hope you enjoyed this update.