Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Feed back is this girls' best friend and don't forget it! *grins* As always thank you to my wonderful, amazing, patient beta's for putting up with me. If it wasn't for them this would be typo city!
Chapter 3
Jason expected rebellion from Thomas that morn. It would take something more than his look to gain the attention of the prince but Jason was nothing if not resourceful. He situated himself on a ledge in the courtyard that had been converted into a training ground for the prince's warrior studies.
Sure enough Thomas arrived late and wearing over extravagant armour that looked better suited for a coronation than a lesson. The air of arrogance that clouded around him was so thick Jason would have liked to have cut it with his knife instead of his equally sharp tongue.
"You are tardy and over dressed, Isorfir, or should I call you peacock as you strut your feathers so vainly?" Jason did not look up from the task he was concentrating on, sharpening the dull blade he had been given in place of a real sword, but his eyes took in everything that deserved notice in the courtyard. "Take those ridiculous feathers off, they are not good for protection and would only attract danger in a battle situation. You will run the length of this courtyard until I tell you to stop. I do not permit tardiness. It is an unwelcome trait in a warrior, one that can get others killed."
"No." Thomas replied defiantly. Jason nearly smiled. He could hear the uncertainty lacing the haughty voice already. The battle may turn out to be less difficult than he had thought.
"No?" Jason's tone was casual as he leapt from the ledge, landing on his feet and drawing himself up to his full height with all the grace of a cat and elegance of an eagle. "And why not?"
"You are a slave." Thomas filled his voice with contempt though he knew the ground he stood on was shaky. The voice of the slave before him may have been indifferent but those eyes...already they filled Thomas with fear but also a sort of breathless anticipation. When one was in the presence of this mysterious creature one could not help but feel that something wonderful was just around the corner.
"This I know." Jason had moved very close to Thomas on steps that were soundless. In a person of any other class Thomas would have been moved to respect for he had never seen such poise before and the act was only walking a few steps. It made him wonder just what metal this slave had been formed from.
"Why should I listen to a slave?" Thomas' voice was cruel and he forced it not to tremble. "How can you have been such a great warrior if this is your station now, something lower than the dirt not fit to even touch my armour?"
A slow smile spread across Jason's face, nearly glowing in the early touch of the sun's soft fingers. "You do not believe me worthy then."
Thomas could not speak for a moment. He could see the power held within Jason and the question he had asked suddenly occupied his entire mind. How did a being like Jason become a slave? The arrogance Thomas had long been taught was quick to take him, however, over shadowing the momentary curiosity of a boy long lost. "Why should I believe you are worthy of anything but to lick my boots?"
Jason nodded once. "Very well. Do your best against me."
"What?" Thomas asked incredulously.
"Do your best against me. Look I wear no armour and am unarmed." Jason tossed the pitiful excuse of a sword aside. "It should be easy. I am, after all an unworthy slave, and you are a prince."
Thomas growled. He knew the slave was trying to trick him into angering, he knew not to let his emotions blind him at least, but he would beat him anyway. After all, what was a slave compared to him! He could best him easily.
Couldn't he?
The fight was over so quickly is could hardly be named a fight. Thomas had drawn his sword and begun to swing it, uncaring if he cost his father a slave or not, only he never had a chance to complete the action. Jason moved with fleetness and efficiency of the winter wind. He had disarmed the young prince before he could properly raise his sword and delivered the first blow before the bewilderment of losing his weapon could reach his mind.
The first hit alone would have sent Thomas staggering but another was laid on his body before he could lose his feet. The last blow came as he fell. It was little more than a tap compared to the others but was perhaps the most humiliating.
Suddenly on the ground with his lip split, the wind only now returning to his lungs and his rear smarting, Thomas felt his cheeks burn in utter embarrassment. A slave, a lowly, dirty, *slave* had just delivered a sound beating to him and had done so effortlessly.
He could not help but raise his eyes to Jason, who stood above him holding the ornate sword. He had expected triumph play upon the strong face. The impassive visage that met him was a great surprise.
"Had I been in a true battle with you the blows of my hands would have been the blows of your own sword running through your body." Jason told him. There was no hint of gloating in his voice; it was simply that of an instructor pointing out the error of a student.
Jason tilted his head for a moment, studying Thomas who remained where he had landed on the ground his face red with embarrassment and rage. "Yet you still do not believe me worthy enough to teach me. You believe you have been cheated in some way though you would be hard pressed to explain how I could have done such a thing. So be it."
"If you need more proof of my quality send a guard against me. They have passed the warrior trials. I will remain unarmed." Jason offered as if he were speaking of the weather rather than a mock battle. The guards had no love for him, that was evident, and Thomas knew very well that cheap tactics would be used against this defiant slave.
He picked himself off the ground, with far less grace than Jason would have, and beckoned the sliest guard he knew of to fight him. Jason looked at Thomas for barely a moment but Thomas knew the slave was aware of why he had picked that guard to fight him just as he was aware that Thomas knew the guard had been among those who had beaten him when he had been helpless to resist their blows the previous night. For a moment the prince felt something akin to shame as he realized Jason was disappointed in his selection.
This disappointment was further shown when he would not even grant the overconfident guard with a fight as long as Thomas had been given. The man was on the ground within the time it took for Jason to place one blow.
"Satisfied?" Jason questioned those blue eyes boring into Thomas, the twin circles of ice made him feel cold somewhere deep inside.
"No." Thomas managed to spit out, motioning for another guard, no, this time two, to face off against the slave.
It was when Jason bested six guards with as much ease as he had bested Thomas while still unarmed that the prince realized this was a battle of wills he had never had a chance of winning. He called the next ground of guards, eight who looked wary to try their luck against the strange slave though eager to cause him harm, off as they began to move forward.
Jason straightened, his tone as unaffected as it had been when he first beat Thomas. "Have you had enough of this? Shall we begin?"
Thomas nodded sulkily but did not speak. He knew he would hear about this later from his father and thought it best to quit while he was behind. He would obey this slave though he still loathed doing so.
"It has taken you long enough." Thomas was surprised to hear wry humour lacing Jason's voice but did he best to conceal it. "This foolishness took long enough and a warrior cannot spare time for such things. You will run the length of the courtyard until I tell you to stop in that costume you wear as armour. Then it will be time to take off the feathers, Isorfir the peacock prince, they are no good to you here."
Thomas began running, his face in an unattractive, sulky pout. Jason picked up the would be blade he had tossed aside earlier and began to sharpen it again, leaning against the wall and observing Thomas with unhurried eyes.
"Your education has just begun, Isorfir, I would save such an expression if I were you. You may need something akin to it in later days." Jason told him. "There is much you must learn yet."
*****
The harsh teeth of a whip sunk into the battered back repeatedly that night.
Jason reacted as much as he had the previous night, his eyes as washed, dull and disinterested as the sky on a cloudy day.
The king had, predictably, taken issue with how Jason had chosen to teach his son. He would not show it in front of the boy, no, that would undermine the authority Jason needed to instruct him, but he would get his point across once Thomas had been summoned for other things.
"You are an insolent being." Daemon sneered, watching as the whip fell across Jason's back, glee in his eyes. "To humiliate my son and my royal guards, surely you did not think such a thing would be overlooked?"
"Nay, I did not." Jason replied, his tone conversational, as if the all the guards who had bested today were not taking turns abusing him now that he was chained and helpless.
"Yet you proceeded with such actions as if you were too dim to know the consequences." Daemon smirked. "Tsk.Tsk. And I thought a brain may have been in your possession."
"You may think whatever you choose to, I have no say over that." Jason replied.
"You have no say over anything." Daemon barked his tone harsh and biting.
"As you continue to remind me." Jason smiled, blood dribbling from his split lip. The guards had had their chance to make up for the blows he had landed on them earlier. The whip was being used simply because Daemon delighted in it.
"You refuse to learn your place." Daemon growled.
"I told you before I was a slow learner in lesson such as that." Jason absently wondered how long it would take for Daemon to lose his temper this time. His outburst would fit a small child better than a king. "Must I repeat myself?"
Jason expected the blow aimed at his head and shifted so that it only grazed his skin. The ring Daemon wore cut his cheek, making the blow seem to inflict more damage than it really had. He was quickly learning how to manipulate Daemon and control the affect his actions had on him. He knew it would prove a worthy skill.
"Give me that whip!" Daemon demanded. "I grow tired of this game. I am your master, slave!"
"This game is far from over." Jason said, the whip biting as his skin in rapid succession as if he had fallen into a pit of snakes. "It will be a long time before we see who is the cat and who is the mouse, Arauko."
*****
The guards were unnerved when Jason again stood in defiance as they shoved him into the slave compound. Some were rethinking their decision to torment this new slave, not out of respect or kindness but out of utter fear. The rest only wished to break the noble spirit more, however, and vowed that the slave would cower before them in the end.
Wishful thinking but dangerous wishful thinking. Jason was not immune to all pain, his tolerance for it was simply high and he did have help. He let himself settle. Sinking back into the embrace that was waiting for him for as long as he could...
Jason smiled slightly as he heard footsteps nearing the door from where he sat, eyes closed, leaning against the slave house. The weight of the steps and the speed of breathing gave him the knowledge of who it was.
"Hello, Eric." Jason greeted with his eyes still closed.
"Can you move?" Eric asked quietly. "Can you make it into the barracks or do you need help?"
"I am fine." Jason opened his eyes and looked at Eric, who crouched beside him, as confusion flickered across the weathered face. "I will come inside in a moment. For now I am simply enjoying the night."
"Enjoying the night..." Eric echoed. "Your back bleeds from the beating you have received, you bear bruises all over your body and you are enjoying the night."
"Yes." Jason replied, looking beyond Eric, to somewhere the other man could only guess.
"I know not what to make of you." Eric said as he shook his head in disbelief.
"Very few do." Jason said cryptically.
"How can you enjoy anything when you know what you will face tomorrow? The prince," Eric sneered, "will still be a brat and the king will beat you."
"This I know." Jason replied evenly. "I draw as much enjoyment out of the day as I can for without that what is the purpose of living?"
"I enjoy nothing." Eric told him gruffly.
"If that were true you would not be living, merely surviving in ignorance. But you do live. I have seen that much of you." Jason turned his gaze on Eric.
Eric shifted uncomfortably. He was not an easy man to ruffle; he had spent all his life as a slave and could not afford to feel such a thing. Jason was an enigma, however, and that made him uneasy.
Jason smiled slightly and turned his gaze upwards to the stars. "You have been denied comfort all your life and yet you still find it in your heart to shelter another so they will not follow the same path. You are truly noble, friend. It takes a strong man to do such a thing."
"I know not what you speak of." Eric said sharply. His ears turned slightly pink but otherwise his embarrassment did not show.
"Eric?" A soft voice asked. Eric turned to see Trip's concerned face peeking out through the half opened door. "Is he okay? Do you need help?"
"I am fine, Trip, and yes, I am aware my back is bleeding once again." Jason left his gaze lost in the stars as he spoke. "I wished to enjoy the night breeze before I came inside."
"Oh." Trip looked befuddled at that. The slave barracks were the only safety they had and little could be found even there.
Jason turned to look at him for a moment, smiling encouragingly. "I will come inside in only a moment more. Do not worry for me."
Trip seemed satisfied with that. The door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving Eric and Jason sitting in silence for a few moments.
"It is a noble thing," Jason began, "to shelter him as you do. He owes you much but I have begun to believe you owe him just as much. He gave you reason to fight again."
"If you plan on using him to manipulate me I suggest you re-think your plans for you will be dead before you can get close enough to touch him." Eric's voice had taken on a quiet, deadly chill. There was no bravado in it, only calm, absolute truth.
"You would die before you let someone come close to hurting him." Jason nodded once. "But if you die than what is he left with? So far you have managed to make him blend into the shadows but you will not be able to do this forever. He will be noticed. Innocence…" Jason sighed softly, memories clouding his eyes for a moment. "It cannot be kept from fading forever. What will you do when he is no longer invisible?"
"Kill those who have revealed him." Eric said. His voice was toneless and utterly serious.
"Nay, he will need you the most then." Jason shook his head. "You can only die for him once and then he will be alone. Live for him instead; it will make more difference in time."
"What would you know about it!?" Eric hissed as he scrambled to his feet in anger and fear of what he would do if he did not relieve the tension gathering in his body. His fists clenched angrily at his sides. "Have you seen the innocent at the mercy of guards like those that reside here? Have you watched your brother, your helpless, innocent brother, struck down because you were not attentive enough? Have you seen the person you loved more than anything not even given the respect that the dead are due?"
"Yes."
The one word made Eric freeze entirely. His body jolted once as the words that had escaped his own mouth replayed in his mind. He had not exposed this much of himself in a very long time and it had been even longer since anyone had learned about the brother he had lost.
His eyes narrowed dangerously, "I do not know why I just revealed that but you would do well to keep your tongue in your head regarding the matter lest you wish to lose it."
Jason gave a low chuckle. "I reveal very little."
"So I have noticed." Eric commented dryly. "You are infuriating."
"I image so." Jason shifted slightly to allow the breeze to flutter over him even more. In doing so he alerted Eric's attention to his back which was still bleeding and unattended.
"Come. Your back must be dealt with, enigma, you cannot fall sick here. It will be your death if you do." Eric stood and waited for Jason to as well.
"Very well." Jason rose less stiffly than Eric had and the other slave had had an easy few days since all the attention of the more brutal guards had been focussed on Jason. For a moment he looked at Eric, a strange expression in his nearly unnerving gaze. "Enigma?"
"Aye. You puzzle me greatly and I do not care for it in the least. For all I will never grasp I can at least make sense and read the guards to escape most of their wrath and prevent them from harming Tr...others." Eric scowled as the corners of Jason's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "You I cannot make sense of. You go left when I am sure you will go right. Nay, not even left, you go in a way I cannot even make sense of. It is unsettling."
"That is good." Jason replied. "Let us hope it makes Arauko Aran feel as uncomfortable."
Author's Note: Feed back is this girls' best friend and don't forget it! *grins* As always thank you to my wonderful, amazing, patient beta's for putting up with me. If it wasn't for them this would be typo city!
Chapter 3
Jason expected rebellion from Thomas that morn. It would take something more than his look to gain the attention of the prince but Jason was nothing if not resourceful. He situated himself on a ledge in the courtyard that had been converted into a training ground for the prince's warrior studies.
Sure enough Thomas arrived late and wearing over extravagant armour that looked better suited for a coronation than a lesson. The air of arrogance that clouded around him was so thick Jason would have liked to have cut it with his knife instead of his equally sharp tongue.
"You are tardy and over dressed, Isorfir, or should I call you peacock as you strut your feathers so vainly?" Jason did not look up from the task he was concentrating on, sharpening the dull blade he had been given in place of a real sword, but his eyes took in everything that deserved notice in the courtyard. "Take those ridiculous feathers off, they are not good for protection and would only attract danger in a battle situation. You will run the length of this courtyard until I tell you to stop. I do not permit tardiness. It is an unwelcome trait in a warrior, one that can get others killed."
"No." Thomas replied defiantly. Jason nearly smiled. He could hear the uncertainty lacing the haughty voice already. The battle may turn out to be less difficult than he had thought.
"No?" Jason's tone was casual as he leapt from the ledge, landing on his feet and drawing himself up to his full height with all the grace of a cat and elegance of an eagle. "And why not?"
"You are a slave." Thomas filled his voice with contempt though he knew the ground he stood on was shaky. The voice of the slave before him may have been indifferent but those eyes...already they filled Thomas with fear but also a sort of breathless anticipation. When one was in the presence of this mysterious creature one could not help but feel that something wonderful was just around the corner.
"This I know." Jason had moved very close to Thomas on steps that were soundless. In a person of any other class Thomas would have been moved to respect for he had never seen such poise before and the act was only walking a few steps. It made him wonder just what metal this slave had been formed from.
"Why should I listen to a slave?" Thomas' voice was cruel and he forced it not to tremble. "How can you have been such a great warrior if this is your station now, something lower than the dirt not fit to even touch my armour?"
A slow smile spread across Jason's face, nearly glowing in the early touch of the sun's soft fingers. "You do not believe me worthy then."
Thomas could not speak for a moment. He could see the power held within Jason and the question he had asked suddenly occupied his entire mind. How did a being like Jason become a slave? The arrogance Thomas had long been taught was quick to take him, however, over shadowing the momentary curiosity of a boy long lost. "Why should I believe you are worthy of anything but to lick my boots?"
Jason nodded once. "Very well. Do your best against me."
"What?" Thomas asked incredulously.
"Do your best against me. Look I wear no armour and am unarmed." Jason tossed the pitiful excuse of a sword aside. "It should be easy. I am, after all an unworthy slave, and you are a prince."
Thomas growled. He knew the slave was trying to trick him into angering, he knew not to let his emotions blind him at least, but he would beat him anyway. After all, what was a slave compared to him! He could best him easily.
Couldn't he?
The fight was over so quickly is could hardly be named a fight. Thomas had drawn his sword and begun to swing it, uncaring if he cost his father a slave or not, only he never had a chance to complete the action. Jason moved with fleetness and efficiency of the winter wind. He had disarmed the young prince before he could properly raise his sword and delivered the first blow before the bewilderment of losing his weapon could reach his mind.
The first hit alone would have sent Thomas staggering but another was laid on his body before he could lose his feet. The last blow came as he fell. It was little more than a tap compared to the others but was perhaps the most humiliating.
Suddenly on the ground with his lip split, the wind only now returning to his lungs and his rear smarting, Thomas felt his cheeks burn in utter embarrassment. A slave, a lowly, dirty, *slave* had just delivered a sound beating to him and had done so effortlessly.
He could not help but raise his eyes to Jason, who stood above him holding the ornate sword. He had expected triumph play upon the strong face. The impassive visage that met him was a great surprise.
"Had I been in a true battle with you the blows of my hands would have been the blows of your own sword running through your body." Jason told him. There was no hint of gloating in his voice; it was simply that of an instructor pointing out the error of a student.
Jason tilted his head for a moment, studying Thomas who remained where he had landed on the ground his face red with embarrassment and rage. "Yet you still do not believe me worthy enough to teach me. You believe you have been cheated in some way though you would be hard pressed to explain how I could have done such a thing. So be it."
"If you need more proof of my quality send a guard against me. They have passed the warrior trials. I will remain unarmed." Jason offered as if he were speaking of the weather rather than a mock battle. The guards had no love for him, that was evident, and Thomas knew very well that cheap tactics would be used against this defiant slave.
He picked himself off the ground, with far less grace than Jason would have, and beckoned the sliest guard he knew of to fight him. Jason looked at Thomas for barely a moment but Thomas knew the slave was aware of why he had picked that guard to fight him just as he was aware that Thomas knew the guard had been among those who had beaten him when he had been helpless to resist their blows the previous night. For a moment the prince felt something akin to shame as he realized Jason was disappointed in his selection.
This disappointment was further shown when he would not even grant the overconfident guard with a fight as long as Thomas had been given. The man was on the ground within the time it took for Jason to place one blow.
"Satisfied?" Jason questioned those blue eyes boring into Thomas, the twin circles of ice made him feel cold somewhere deep inside.
"No." Thomas managed to spit out, motioning for another guard, no, this time two, to face off against the slave.
It was when Jason bested six guards with as much ease as he had bested Thomas while still unarmed that the prince realized this was a battle of wills he had never had a chance of winning. He called the next ground of guards, eight who looked wary to try their luck against the strange slave though eager to cause him harm, off as they began to move forward.
Jason straightened, his tone as unaffected as it had been when he first beat Thomas. "Have you had enough of this? Shall we begin?"
Thomas nodded sulkily but did not speak. He knew he would hear about this later from his father and thought it best to quit while he was behind. He would obey this slave though he still loathed doing so.
"It has taken you long enough." Thomas was surprised to hear wry humour lacing Jason's voice but did he best to conceal it. "This foolishness took long enough and a warrior cannot spare time for such things. You will run the length of the courtyard until I tell you to stop in that costume you wear as armour. Then it will be time to take off the feathers, Isorfir the peacock prince, they are no good to you here."
Thomas began running, his face in an unattractive, sulky pout. Jason picked up the would be blade he had tossed aside earlier and began to sharpen it again, leaning against the wall and observing Thomas with unhurried eyes.
"Your education has just begun, Isorfir, I would save such an expression if I were you. You may need something akin to it in later days." Jason told him. "There is much you must learn yet."
*****
The harsh teeth of a whip sunk into the battered back repeatedly that night.
Jason reacted as much as he had the previous night, his eyes as washed, dull and disinterested as the sky on a cloudy day.
The king had, predictably, taken issue with how Jason had chosen to teach his son. He would not show it in front of the boy, no, that would undermine the authority Jason needed to instruct him, but he would get his point across once Thomas had been summoned for other things.
"You are an insolent being." Daemon sneered, watching as the whip fell across Jason's back, glee in his eyes. "To humiliate my son and my royal guards, surely you did not think such a thing would be overlooked?"
"Nay, I did not." Jason replied, his tone conversational, as if the all the guards who had bested today were not taking turns abusing him now that he was chained and helpless.
"Yet you proceeded with such actions as if you were too dim to know the consequences." Daemon smirked. "Tsk.Tsk. And I thought a brain may have been in your possession."
"You may think whatever you choose to, I have no say over that." Jason replied.
"You have no say over anything." Daemon barked his tone harsh and biting.
"As you continue to remind me." Jason smiled, blood dribbling from his split lip. The guards had had their chance to make up for the blows he had landed on them earlier. The whip was being used simply because Daemon delighted in it.
"You refuse to learn your place." Daemon growled.
"I told you before I was a slow learner in lesson such as that." Jason absently wondered how long it would take for Daemon to lose his temper this time. His outburst would fit a small child better than a king. "Must I repeat myself?"
Jason expected the blow aimed at his head and shifted so that it only grazed his skin. The ring Daemon wore cut his cheek, making the blow seem to inflict more damage than it really had. He was quickly learning how to manipulate Daemon and control the affect his actions had on him. He knew it would prove a worthy skill.
"Give me that whip!" Daemon demanded. "I grow tired of this game. I am your master, slave!"
"This game is far from over." Jason said, the whip biting as his skin in rapid succession as if he had fallen into a pit of snakes. "It will be a long time before we see who is the cat and who is the mouse, Arauko."
*****
The guards were unnerved when Jason again stood in defiance as they shoved him into the slave compound. Some were rethinking their decision to torment this new slave, not out of respect or kindness but out of utter fear. The rest only wished to break the noble spirit more, however, and vowed that the slave would cower before them in the end.
Wishful thinking but dangerous wishful thinking. Jason was not immune to all pain, his tolerance for it was simply high and he did have help. He let himself settle. Sinking back into the embrace that was waiting for him for as long as he could...
Jason smiled slightly as he heard footsteps nearing the door from where he sat, eyes closed, leaning against the slave house. The weight of the steps and the speed of breathing gave him the knowledge of who it was.
"Hello, Eric." Jason greeted with his eyes still closed.
"Can you move?" Eric asked quietly. "Can you make it into the barracks or do you need help?"
"I am fine." Jason opened his eyes and looked at Eric, who crouched beside him, as confusion flickered across the weathered face. "I will come inside in a moment. For now I am simply enjoying the night."
"Enjoying the night..." Eric echoed. "Your back bleeds from the beating you have received, you bear bruises all over your body and you are enjoying the night."
"Yes." Jason replied, looking beyond Eric, to somewhere the other man could only guess.
"I know not what to make of you." Eric said as he shook his head in disbelief.
"Very few do." Jason said cryptically.
"How can you enjoy anything when you know what you will face tomorrow? The prince," Eric sneered, "will still be a brat and the king will beat you."
"This I know." Jason replied evenly. "I draw as much enjoyment out of the day as I can for without that what is the purpose of living?"
"I enjoy nothing." Eric told him gruffly.
"If that were true you would not be living, merely surviving in ignorance. But you do live. I have seen that much of you." Jason turned his gaze on Eric.
Eric shifted uncomfortably. He was not an easy man to ruffle; he had spent all his life as a slave and could not afford to feel such a thing. Jason was an enigma, however, and that made him uneasy.
Jason smiled slightly and turned his gaze upwards to the stars. "You have been denied comfort all your life and yet you still find it in your heart to shelter another so they will not follow the same path. You are truly noble, friend. It takes a strong man to do such a thing."
"I know not what you speak of." Eric said sharply. His ears turned slightly pink but otherwise his embarrassment did not show.
"Eric?" A soft voice asked. Eric turned to see Trip's concerned face peeking out through the half opened door. "Is he okay? Do you need help?"
"I am fine, Trip, and yes, I am aware my back is bleeding once again." Jason left his gaze lost in the stars as he spoke. "I wished to enjoy the night breeze before I came inside."
"Oh." Trip looked befuddled at that. The slave barracks were the only safety they had and little could be found even there.
Jason turned to look at him for a moment, smiling encouragingly. "I will come inside in only a moment more. Do not worry for me."
Trip seemed satisfied with that. The door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving Eric and Jason sitting in silence for a few moments.
"It is a noble thing," Jason began, "to shelter him as you do. He owes you much but I have begun to believe you owe him just as much. He gave you reason to fight again."
"If you plan on using him to manipulate me I suggest you re-think your plans for you will be dead before you can get close enough to touch him." Eric's voice had taken on a quiet, deadly chill. There was no bravado in it, only calm, absolute truth.
"You would die before you let someone come close to hurting him." Jason nodded once. "But if you die than what is he left with? So far you have managed to make him blend into the shadows but you will not be able to do this forever. He will be noticed. Innocence…" Jason sighed softly, memories clouding his eyes for a moment. "It cannot be kept from fading forever. What will you do when he is no longer invisible?"
"Kill those who have revealed him." Eric said. His voice was toneless and utterly serious.
"Nay, he will need you the most then." Jason shook his head. "You can only die for him once and then he will be alone. Live for him instead; it will make more difference in time."
"What would you know about it!?" Eric hissed as he scrambled to his feet in anger and fear of what he would do if he did not relieve the tension gathering in his body. His fists clenched angrily at his sides. "Have you seen the innocent at the mercy of guards like those that reside here? Have you watched your brother, your helpless, innocent brother, struck down because you were not attentive enough? Have you seen the person you loved more than anything not even given the respect that the dead are due?"
"Yes."
The one word made Eric freeze entirely. His body jolted once as the words that had escaped his own mouth replayed in his mind. He had not exposed this much of himself in a very long time and it had been even longer since anyone had learned about the brother he had lost.
His eyes narrowed dangerously, "I do not know why I just revealed that but you would do well to keep your tongue in your head regarding the matter lest you wish to lose it."
Jason gave a low chuckle. "I reveal very little."
"So I have noticed." Eric commented dryly. "You are infuriating."
"I image so." Jason shifted slightly to allow the breeze to flutter over him even more. In doing so he alerted Eric's attention to his back which was still bleeding and unattended.
"Come. Your back must be dealt with, enigma, you cannot fall sick here. It will be your death if you do." Eric stood and waited for Jason to as well.
"Very well." Jason rose less stiffly than Eric had and the other slave had had an easy few days since all the attention of the more brutal guards had been focussed on Jason. For a moment he looked at Eric, a strange expression in his nearly unnerving gaze. "Enigma?"
"Aye. You puzzle me greatly and I do not care for it in the least. For all I will never grasp I can at least make sense and read the guards to escape most of their wrath and prevent them from harming Tr...others." Eric scowled as the corners of Jason's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "You I cannot make sense of. You go left when I am sure you will go right. Nay, not even left, you go in a way I cannot even make sense of. It is unsettling."
"That is good." Jason replied. "Let us hope it makes Arauko Aran feel as uncomfortable."