Freedom Bound

Bitter Pill

The next day Fenris was able to get up and even struggle into some clothes, though he winced as he did so. It was obvious the markings branded into his skin were still extremely tender. The slaves gathered around him, concerned, but he said nothing to any of them. He only gave Ava the briefest flash of eye contact before casting his gaze back down to the floor. She watched him, moving slowly, painfully, like one had had been in a bad fight. Every muscles seemed to ache.

At breakfast he ate little, but did drink a cup of water with a few herbs in it that the cook gave him. Still Fenris said nothing. Not thanking those who had aided him the night before, nor scolding them for hearing his screams and hiding rather than trying to come to his aid. Instead he seemed lost within himself. Contemplative and distant.

He was called for to bring his master's breakfast, and he did so, though Ava offered to tell the Master he was ill and bring the meal up herself. He waited in silence for the tray to be loaded with food. He watched each item carefully, vigilant for anything that would displease Danarius. Ava was so busy watching Fenris that she didn't keep her usual close track of Hadriana's meal.

Normally, when the pair walked up to the main house with their laden trays they would talk. Or, more specifically, Fenris would ask Ava something in that way of his that always got her talking. This time he was utterly silent. He moved stiffly, though obviously making an effort not to show it. She walked slower so he would not feel that he needed to keep up with her. "Fenris," she whispered, as though even the volume of her voice could hurt him. He said nothing. His eyes did not lift from the tray. "Fenris, are you alright?" she pressed.

He didn't speak. Didn't look at her. Ava turned her attention back to her own path up the hallway. She could remember her first bad beating. Ten lashes when she was thirteen. She had made it to a pretty substantial age before getting a punishment so severe. She was good at playing the game. At keeping the masters happy. She remembered afterwards a kind fellow slave had seen to her striped back.. She too had fell silent and turned inward. Protective. Like curling around a wound. Being struck in such a way made you introspective, worried, jump at shadows. That feeling of never being safe again. Never knowing when the next blow would swing down and someone would count "eleven!"

"It's alright, Fenris. You don't have to talk," she said, trying to sound reassuring, but her voice broke at the end.

The days and weeks went by and they found Fenris unchanged. He remained sullen, silent and moody. Though his pain seemed to lesson he still flinched away from anyone's touch and Ava heard him make little gasping sounds when he put on his clothes or armor.

The armor was new. As was the long blade he wore. Danarius seemed to have decided that now, freshly branded as he was, Fenris was to train to become his bodyguard. The elf spent most of his days in the practice yard beside the work yard. Sometimes Ava would peek through a hole in the work yard fence and watch Fenris practice. He was getting alarmingly skilled. It was strange to watch him take on waves of Danarius's guards, hardly breaking a sweat. He seemed determined not to let any of their blows land. He always struck them long before they could get within their reach of him.

On days when it rained, which were growing more frequent as the seasons changed, the guards would be allowed to remain inside, but Fenris would train in the work yard, attacking a dummy he had made out of firewood and old sheets. It was a gnarled thing and took a lot of punishment. When Ava was out doing chores she often looked at it sympathetically.

Still Fenris barely spoke. Even as Ava traveled with him when Hadriana and Danarius went to parties or special events. She found she missed the young man with the wide, wondering eyes that had been so unafraid and friendly. Everyone else was starting to talk about Fenris behind his back. How he thought himself better than them now that he had those markings. How he put on airs. Ava didn't think he believed himself superior, but she had no idea what was going on in that head of his.