Benedict

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

As soon as her hands cupped around his neck, Ezner found himself instantly relaxing. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and his eyes closed a bit. One of his own hands reached up, laying over one of her own. As her forehead touched to his, he could smell that perfume of hers that he loved.

In the barest whisper, "I know."

As she touched his wrist, Ezner started to flinch, but held himself in her grasp. A memory came forth, of his mother touching his raw and bleeding skin after their owner took the chains off of him as a young boy.

"My mother was there when the chains were taken off."

This was said both sadly and as a fond memory. He and his mother were not allowed to be close, she wasn't really allowed to be a mother. Still, she mattered a lot to him.

Ezner nodded, and in response to him sharing what he was thinking, "I will." It had been said to him as an order, even if not given in such a demanding way. And Ezner's tone said that his answer to it was as much of a promise as the one he'd given earlier.

Ezner turned now, smiling softly. "That would be nice too." His hand slid down her own, and just as she so often did to him, he intertwined his fingers within hers, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

He led her down the road, taking the appropriate turns. He didn't speak much on this leg of the journey. They passed the Order of Adunih, and began following along a small stone wall, marking the border of what looked to be a large park. At this end of the park was a small copse of trees surrounding a small pond. As they followed along the wall, a large house, finely crafted, came into view.

And Ezner's hand gripped Elisabeth's just a bit tighter in response. He slowed as they came upon the gate to the park. And that was when Ezner came to a stop. He pushed open the gate, leading them upon a path up toward the house. But he stopped out in front of the house, not yet stepping onto the porch.

"This is my house. It scares me. It makes me lonely."

He reached down into his boot, pulling out a small pouch that had a few coins in it. It jingled lightly, and he reached in, plucking out the iron key, and returned the pouch back to his boot.

"Ready?"

This was said as a warning, a way to both protect her and bolster himself. This house terrified him, made him feel empty and alone. And he didn't want her to feel those things too.

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

He paused, his hand held by hers now. He turned to look, seeing the confusion in her eyes, and his own grew to match. Then a bit of hurt hid in his own and he wore it plainly. He mumbled softly, "I know you're not a threat."

'You're one of the only good things that has ever happened to me.'

He then clasped her hand that held his, looking her directly in the eyes. He didn't try to mask his pain, at both her thinking that he thought her to be a threat to him, as well as what made him nervous. He lifted her hand up to his shoulder, then pressed her fingers gently against the back of his neck, in the safety of the hood of his cloak, allowing them to touch the flesh where his tattoo was. He left her hand rest there, as his eyes slowly filled with tears but he didn't speak, he just looked at her.

After several long moments, "I wanted to keep holding your hand."

With his other hand, he wiped away his tears as he could no longer see her eyes through them. So he shared with her exactly how he was thinking. "But it's cold here. It feels like..." he gulped, "Metal against my skin. Cold, hard, painful metal." He rolled up one of his sleeves, holding up his wrist so she could see. The scars were faded but it was obvious he had worn chains there. "And it made me think of gloves I have. I don't like them either. They are tight. Too tight."

Then he clasped her other hand between both of his, letting his sleeve fall back down. "I like holding your hand. It feels what I think snow feels like. Cold, yes, but soft, gentle, close. Not painful, not like metal. Not like chains."

He took a deep breath, "I saw some children playing with the snow, and they were so happy. Watching that made me smile."

Then a nervous smile, "You're snow. And I want to hold your hand. But mine gets cold, and I don't want to wear gloves."

He'd heard her words about Viden, Scalvoris. One a place she wanted to take him one trial, the other a place he'd come from. It made him think of his mother, hopefully happy and free there. "You thrive on a couch with a blanket too. Cold isn't everything."

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

He gently guided her down the steps, his hand slipping free to slide back into the warmth of his own pocket. He didn't like wearing gloves, they were itchy and they made his hands sweaty. But mostly he didn't like how tightly they seemed to fit. Most of his slavery he'd always worn loose or ill-fitting clothing, and he'd grown used to it. Tight clothes made him feel even more confined. And reminded him of the trials he'd had to wear collars or chains, for those were the only things that slave owners made sure were tight.

Ezner's other hand unconsciously left his pocket, rubbing at the tattoo on his neck.

Ezner nodded at her words, his face somber, his hands working to tighten up his collar before diving back into their warm abodes. He began walking along the road toward his house, the same road he took every single trial. "I don't like the cold. I want to like it. I know you do. The way you spoke of it in Viden is nice. But it just hurts. It feels like iron against my skin." Iron chains.

He walked slowly, enjoying just being in her presence, "I got to see the snow from the safehouse I was kept in. It reminded me of you." But he hadn't been allowed to go outside in the snow, nor open windows. He'd been told it wasn't safe. Mr. Dey had dangerous connections. Ezner walked a bit in silence, "It would've been nice," in reference to her desire to have come back in winter. It wasn't said with malice or blame, a simple agreement with her words.

"Did it snow where you went?"

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

Ezner listened carefully as Elizabeth spoke, feeling a tightening in his chest begin to creep over him. He was being presented with a bunch of different choices. He definitely didn't wish to get her house dirty with all the charcoal and soot upon his person. He knew how messy his tub became every trial after her bathed. He wasn't about to inflict that upon her or her home. It was one thing for him to clean his tub spotless constantly, but here? Hers? He wouldn't do that.

And he only had clothes at his house.

He'd just gotten her back and he didn't want to leave her yet. He only was now realising that this conflict of choices was his own fault. He'd asked to clean up. Should he not have? None of the answers made perfect sense to him. Especially because he didn't want to take her to his house. He didn't want her to feel like he did inside of it. It was too big, it creaked a lot, it felt as though he were inside the corpse of a long dead beast.

And it was lonely.

But maybe it would be okay if she came with? He didn't feel lonely with her. He lightly chewed on the inside of his lower lip as he considered the options. His eyes were unfocused as he was thinking, his hands clenching and unclenching. Then he took in a deep breath, finding the comfort of her eyes once more. "I'll go get cleaned up and changed. I would like it if you came with me. My... house isn't far from here. It shouldn't be too long."

Ezner turned back to the front door, opening it for them both, stepping through first. It was a habit he had formed while serving as Mr. Dey's bodyguard. Always enter the unknown first. Back into the chilly air sent a shiver through him. He bundled up his cloak even tighter, slipping his hands deep into his pockets in the hopes of warming them a bit. His face showed his displeasure at this chilly evening air, particularly as the winds began to whip past him.

"It's not far. Three streets down, two streets over. Near to the Order of Adunih."

He descended the steps of her porch, waiting at the bottom, a soft smile on his face as he looked up at her, the moonlight catching off his eyes a bit, as he slipped a hand from his pocket, extending out in offer to her.

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

In soft words, "I'm your friend too."

His eyes narrowed as he paid extra close attention as she respelled her name using his finger. S. Had it been earlier while locked up in the safehouse, under the tutor's expectant gaze, Ezner might've felt self-conscious and frustrated at having spelled her name wrong. But now, he just broke into the widest grin, broad and toothy. He knew how to spell her name now.

Then she was up, and bringing him with her, inviting him into her house. Before, he had looked around, knowing the sort of things people might say or think about Elisabeth if they'd seen her bringing a slave into her home. But now, he simply stood, nodding his head, "I would like that very much." He was still grinning about her dishes comment, understanding the joke now that had to be explained to him last time, at her last house.

And that was when Ezner remembered that he had a house too.

One that was much larger and more grand than her own as she led him through the door. One that reminded him more of the house he'd lived in as a slave to Mr. Dey than the cozy lived in home that Elisabeth had first brought him into. Stepping across the threshold, his eyes fell upon the couch she had offered to him to sleep upon. And there upon it, two blankets. He stopped there, just inside the door way, his memories from way back then rushing forth.

It really had been so long since they'd last seen each other. And he was a different man for sure. And she seemed different too, though he wasn't sure how. They hadn't gotten to know much of each other, at least in salient details, but they had reached out for each other in another way. They were both what the other had needed at the time. And the look upon Ezner's face was a mix of a man remembering both an old lover and a painful past as he stared at that couch.

After a long moment, he closed the door, only now seeing how dirty his hands were from work. Everything about him was dirty. He normally bathed himself immediately after work. "Can I help you with dinner?" He said, seeking permission, and then once more, "Can I clean up myself? I don't want to make a mess in your house." There was a bit of an intonation change in both of those questions. The automatic reply of a slave asking permission to do anything that wasn't explicitly told to him.

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

Ezner let his fingers savor the feel of hers entwined with his own.

Ezner heard her question, and he had to think about it, he truly did. For when he had given the promise, it had come from instinct, come from a place deep within him. He'd never given a promise before, not to anyone. He had been a slave, he wasn't allowed to make promises, both by former owners, but also by his own self. After all, what use was empty words? A slave was only as good as their utility allowed. Fanciful things like hollow promises were just not something that ever registered.

But when Elisabeth had told him about the words she'd spoken, spoken to him, thinking he was dead and gone, he had truly felt something for the first time in his life. He felt as though he had value to someone. Someone wanted him to be around, not for his ability to fight, or the ability to peel potatoes, or run errands or clean the house. Someone wanted him around just to be around. No, not just someone. Elisabeth wanted him to be around.

In her soft eyes, in her caring touch, he was a man she truly valued and cared about. To her, he was a person, and always had been. And so, when he spoke, he did so while looking directly at her. And for the first time in his life, he felt like a person speaking to another person, and soft smile adorned his face, slightly curled more on the left than the right.

"I need you in my life."

Then he gave her fingers a soft squeeze, letting her know that he was here and knew she was too, offering comfort to her as she did to him. He thought back to when they had first met, and she asked him who he wanted to be.

"I am a man who can see the world through his own eyes. And I want to do that with you."

He then pulled her fingers from his, gently upturning her palm and placing it on his. He glanced at her, then gestured with his gaze down at their hands. And using a finger, one letter at a time, he spelled out Elizabeth into her palm.

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

Ezner watched as she started to lean into him. He almost wanted to pull away, afraid of more pain to come. He didn't want to hurt anymore. But her arms were around him before he could, her head against his chest. And unconsciously, his arms wrapped gently around her head, cradling her there.

Thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump.

His heart was racing. And the tears kept flowing. But for each passing bit that she held him, his heart beat slowed, his breathing slowed, his tears slowed. And he began to hold her tighter, seeking more of her comfort.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

He listened to her words as he held, and she held him, there. She... she truly thought him dead. She hadn't left him alone. He'd left her. He'd been taken away. He hadn't ever said his name while at the Order. Part of him thought maybe it was to protect her, protect her from Mr. Dey and his lecherous intentions. But no, that was surface level. He hadn't shared her name with anyone else because he liked that he was special to her and... she was special to him. In a time when he had nothing, for the first time in his life, he'd allowed himself to be selfish, and he kept her name, her memory, all to himself.

And that selfishness had been eating at him all this time and he had no idea.

When her eyes, her beautiful, crystalline blue eyes found his, he knew how much his loss had hurt her. He knew that he wasn't alone in this pain, that he wasn't the only one lost and confused. And in this moment, he pledged both a silent oath to himself, and one said aloud to her. He wiped the tears from his earthen eyes, his gaze taking on a determined, steely gaze, "I promise I will never be lost from you again."

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

He felt her hands slip into his, clasping at his cheeks, and pulling him up to look at her. She would see a shade of the same man who couldn't be what he wished to be three seasons ago. That man had been broken by unfettered freedom coupled with complete and utter solitude. When he'd been a slave, he was not human, he wasn't concerned with things like loneliness, boredom, thinking, emotions.

But Elisabeth had... undone all of that. She had shown him how to think. How to feel. And then she was gone. He was gone. He heard her words as his sobs slowed, comforted by the touch of the only person who had ever offered him a kind touch. He always listened, no matter what he was doing. He never missed a word, especially from her. He cherished the words she spoke.

He sputtered out the words, an absolute mess of a man who knew no shame, for such things had never been taught to him. Pure, raw emotion exuded out, "I was alone." It was as much an admission of himself. He knew he hadn't connected with anyone since his freedom was granted to him. He hadn't even bothered to try. He didn't want to, for there was only one he wanted to reconnect with. One person he wanted to tell. And she was holding his face now.

He still felt and carried the guilt of internally blaming her for not being there, but with that came old habits too. It was obviously different, spoken in the same manner that Elisabeth would've heard him speak to Mr. Dey. "I'm sorry. I disappeared."

His posture shrunk a bit more, trying to hide more within himself from the source of his pain. He remembered every word she'd ever said to him, and a few began to echo in his skull, in her own voice.

"Where else would I be? I said I would see you through this and I will. I don’t turn my back on people."

"I don’t walk away from friends."

"You and me. Together. You aren’t alone anymore."

In a bare whisper, "I was alone..."

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

She let go of him, stepping back, her deep blue eyes staring at him, studying him, as they had done those two trials they'd spent together. She was always watching him, searching him, looking for something. But he never knew as to what. It was different under her eyes as compared to the eyes of potential buyers. He had been sold several times and had grown immune to being under their gazes, where they sought reasons to drive down his price, injuries, scars, deformity. But now, her eyes were seeking reasons to help him, seeking things to make right, things to heal. Just as she had helped to fix his hands when they first met, just as she had seen him being underfed and demanded change, just as she had seen his rags and worked to get him better clothes.

Under her gaze, he felt safe and cared for, and a soft smile answered hers in return. He felt her fingers find his and allowed her to pull him up onto the porch, happy to follow. He still couldn't believe his luck. He'd walked by the house she'd let him stay the night in, but he never saw her. It was often empty, no glow of candles or fire in the windows. He had assumed that she had left.

Guilt was on his face now.

He hadn't ever given it dedicated thought, but now that she was back here, part of him had thought she had left him behind. It was there, just under the surface, disturbing his sleep, adding to his pains of adjusting to his new freedom. He'd always thought she'd be there, that she would've been a part of it. But she wasn't. She wasn't at her home. Ezner had approached the Institute, having asked someone where it was. He had spoken to a couple of people, but they either didn't know her or said they hadn't seen her in a long time. And he had left, saddened.

It was only now that she was back that he realised that he'd been feeling that way. And so, when he sat in the chair across from her, his shoulders were slumped and his eyes couldn't find hers as he stared at his hands, slipping deeper into his guilt. He began to speak, his voice strained, starting to crack.

"It wasn't much of an adventure. A few trials after..." he took a deep breath, "After we last saw each other, I was at the Order of Adunih. I had some pretty extensive injuries after a fight at the Pit. The healers there patched me up. When I woke up the next trial, I found myself face to face with Faith Augustin. She had Mr. Dey, and others arrested, for abuse of slaves. For abusing me. She bought me. I... I was kept in a safe house while Mr. Dey and the others were taken and tried in court. Afterwards... I was a freeman."

But what should've been a happy story, what he thought was going to be happy. The story he had practiced and rehearsed over and over in his excitement to see her again, had crumbled as he broke down completely. His dirty face fell into his even dirtier hands as he sobbed openly. He couldn't say another word. He didn't know how to tell her about the loneliness of his freedom, about the pain he felt walking past her old house, about telling people at his job that he was a freeman before he could tell her. He didn't know how to tell her how his new house terrified him with how big it was. And he didn't know how to tell her that he had wished for and hoped that she would've been there waiting for him.

And he didn't know how to tell her how heart broken he was that he had never found her.

All he could do was sob.

Blankets, Breakfast, and Blue Eyes

Ezner watched her stand as the world slowed down. He hadn't seen her for almost three seasons now. Not since the morning after they'd met. He barely knew anything about her, but she was his only friend in the world, the only friend he'd ever really had. He saw the look on her face, heard his name on her lips, and knew in the deepest parts of his chest that she hadn't forgotten about him. Just as he had been thinking about her constantly, every trial, she had been too. When they met, he had hoped that they would free him together.

Then time sped back up, and in a heartbeat, Elisabeth had thrown herself against him, arms around his neck, her face hidden to keep her tears private. His own arms wrapped around her tight, his hands flat against her back. And he held her firmly, absolutely needing her there and now. The world melted away around him. The scent of oranges and lavender filled his lungs. The scent that lingered in his memories whenever he had thought about her, but it was never quite the same as it was now.

He heard her whisper into his ear, and the face she had bore earlier made more sense. He didn't know how she'd come to that conclusion, but it cracked something within Ezner. And his own tears began to flow silently down his cheeks, falling into her perfumed hair, and he squeezed her just that much tighter. And he held her there, for as long as she needed, for as long as he needed. He was a free man now, and he could do whatever he wanted.

And all that he wanted in this world was to be in this moment with her forever.