Private The Cut That Always Bleeds

The clink of a glass bottle against his teeth had Kieran pulling the drink away from his lips. He ran his tongue over each tooth until satisfied that there were no chips. Learning his lesson he tilted his head, taking a long swig of the fancy wine that didn't taste much different than the cheap stuff. Raindrops splattered over his face, Kieran closed his eyes but he still saw Dominic curled up in bed, pale yellow and green around his mouth, circles around his closed eyes the same color as the wine that the Bastard drank.

It was hard to swallow when there was a lump in his throat but Kieran did it anyways, used to do doing things that didn't feel good. He set the wine carefully beside where he crouched. His body felt cold and stiff as if he were the one six feet under right now. Kieran hunched over his knees even further, pulling the hood of the blood red cloak he wore over his eyes that matched the overcast sky above him. They hadn't gotten Dominic a stone grave but a thick wooden one.

They were told that it would last for many years. Kieran could already pick out the splotches of rot already beginning to form on the wooden pillar. The numbers indicating when he was born, his birthday, his deathday, a cruel reminder that Dominic would be forever young. Forever in Our Hearts. Kieran looked at his gift. His brother had loved looking at the jars of sugar shaped into the shapes of fruit. Now the bright slices of oranges, lemons, and grapefruits were melting into the dirt, falling apart like castle walls.

Kieran went to grab the bottle of wine but his stupid fat fingers tipped the bottle over. Some of the wine splashed out, getting on Dominic's grave. The dark haired man cursed under his breath, righting the bottle up and checking to see how much he lost. Not enough to be particularly grumpy about it.

"Look at that, your first drink." Dominic didn't even get close to drinking alcohol or to that mischievous age where he considered trying to sneak a sip of ale. "Expensive shit too, buddy. Lucky you, didn't get to trick you into drinking that swill that tastes worse than medicine." Kieran's droll words fell silent as the rain kept smattering, pattering on and on and on. He was glad for it. It was always easier to shed a few tears when the sky was weeping.

She hated when it rained.

There was not much colour to her to begin with, but the Veyan skies often gave her an illusion. It warmed her cool tones, and even the trees that were trying to grow in the slums of this paradise made her eyes appear green. When it rained, all of those illusions left behind the truth of her.

She was a wraith, a frail thing that should have blown away with the gust, but today seemed to hold her some fortune when another was not feeling the same thing as her.

Small mercies went a long way, at least they did for her.

He was a brother, as all bastards tend to be for one another, but Evyn remembered Dominic well. Had been in the same house growing up, had been left to look after the younger ones whenever Duscan and Kieran and the others went to go bring them food and what coin they could to keep them all going.

Evyn stepped up, coming to Kieran's side and taking a seat by crossing her legs and lowering herself to sit in the grass. her arse hadn't been wet from the rain, but it was now. She would complain about it later, when she returned home and could luxuriate in the small tub that only had enough hot water to fill three quarters of it before the cold water ruined it all.

"Don't listen to him, Dom. If you want to get drunk quick, that swill will save you a lot of money of getting pissed on the fancy shit."
She smiled. Her eyes stared at what was left to rot of his tombstone, the wood looking like what she imagined driftwood to look like.
"Beth, Amie, and I were hoping to get someone to make a new one... something out of stone but..."

Evyn didn't look at Kieran then. Not when she was disappointed in herself, she didn't want him to see it too and know what she was thinking, but before she could show any of it, her hand dipped into the pocket of her soaked coat. From it's small sanctuary, Evyn produced a stone. It was polished, not to it's best design, but definitely by someone that didn't have all the right tools. She placed it on the earth, right over where Kieran's drink had spilled.
"I have to collect as many Dom rocks and stones. There's not many left in your stream." The very rocks they used to skip across the water on it's calmer days had been become riches. When news of it spread two years ago, it seemed every rock had been scraped and collected from the stream and the nearby ponds. "The girls and I are trying to collect as many as we can. You just had to have a long name."

Her free hand moved and rested on Kieran's shoulder. She gave it a squeeze, as if it include him into the conversation, but every word had been for him as much as it had been for his brother. Evyn couldn't truly comprehend the grief he must feel, something that went beyond even her own, but every year on this day, she knew to be here for him. Duscan was gone, chased out of Veya despite earning his freedom. Ledan... fuck, she wouldn't give him any light of the day. Their numbers may have dwindled, but Evyn knew Dominic would haunt her if she ever abandoned Kieran.

She needed him as much as he needed her.

"I thought I could find you here." Evyn finally turned to look at him.

Oh, shit.

He knew that voice, couldn't forget it even if he tried. All their brothers and sisters, their voices well remembered, if only because the at first it was to mimic them and poke fun. Now they were a crutch during times when the current voices they heard daily made him want to stick nails into his ears. Kieran turned his head the other way as Evyn sat near him. He removed his hood from his head before turning to look at her, her dark hair all the more like the night. Had she always looked this way or was it the rain?

Kieran handed her the bottle of fancy wine when she put a hand on his shoulder. He had a point to prove about the swill they liked to call coffin varnish when the batch turned out dark instead of clear - strong enough to kill you and strong enough to keep the bugs out of your coffin.

"It is his birthday." Kieran said dryly, clearing his throat to try and get rid of the knot that clogged it. Made it hard for words to come up, harder yet to swallow down his feelings. He pushed the hair now clinging to his brows and cheeks. Should have never taken off his hood. He pulled it back up and over his head, trying to ignore how the droplets formed rivulets down his neck into his tunic and leather armor.

"Why aren't there enough rocks?" He looked at the ones she had placed over Dominic's grave, their surface so smooth that even in the gray gloom it shone like the sun was out. "Started using them for a slingshot?" He missed all the trouble he used to cause with a slingshot, less heavy than the bastard sword loaned to him. He still had years of service before it was paid off, but a slingshot could be effective even if it was cheap.

Evyn remembered. She still dreaded when this date crept back up every spring, but she knew she could always find him here. Her hand took the wine, the bottle itself a sleek design that differed to the run of the mill stuff one could find in the tavern, and Evyn knew it would be as rich as anything she had tried to stay away from. It came down to costs, more than anything.

She tilted her head back, hoping the rain would disguise her silver tears, and as her pale eyes closed as the wine bottle came to her lips, Evyn wished for a way to cheer up her brother, her friend. She should have made an effort to see him more. When was the last time she had seen him smile? Had heard him mimic another voice or animal to entertain a crowd? Because, it was her fault not visiting him often.

Kieran was indentured. He lived in a fancy house with a master that flung money in all directions, but it also gave the Weavers a new life. Evyn had seen Duscan a few times before he stopped visiting his Brotherhood of Bastards. It was because of him she understood the resentment for the elite and powerful of Veya. Evyn chose work in the slums, but had been taken on as an apprentice to make arrows for anyone that needed them.

Even as she forced down the wine, she handed the bottle back to him and ensured he did not try to give it back to her.

His hood was waxed, watching the rain drops run right off of him, but she could see the fine make and stitching.

She looked a ghost in comparison to him. As if he had come to visit her gravestone.

"They were collected by us peasants to sell. There are value to these stones..." Evyn reached forward, picking up one of the stones she had polished and held it up for Kieran to observe. There was no sun nor any glimmer of light, but even in the rain, one could see the marvel. "Petrified stone. It is wood, actually, but some natural thing happened to it... minerals or something... but now it has turned to stone. I looked for the pieces that are not so... pure. No one would bother stealing these, but... I have maybe one or two at home." She had intended on using it to sell and buy Duscan his way out of his contract, but she had been too late. He had found a way all on his own.

"I could... I could sell them. Leave Veya behind..." Even saying it aloud pierced her heart. Evyn would try to figure out the truth of that one day, but today she wanted to be there for him. "Their worth could buy out your contract... I think... Dom would like me to do that for you."

But why take freedom when the luxuries of working for a rich family was only found in their grand homes? Would he even want to choose poverty after getting to eat whatever and whenever he wanted?

"Is that so?" He took a long, slow swig of the wine. The notes of plum and pepper were lost on him, all he knew was that it made his tongue and throat feel wet yet dry at the same time. Kieran carefully considered the words, the hint of the offer to make his contract become null and void. "Maybe two years ago they could, but not now." He sighed, the weight of his debt heavy on his shoulders. He hadn't spoken about it to anyone, the failed mission that cost him more years of his life, another sentence tacked on to the one he already had.

The Lord and Lady didn't much care about his body, they hadn't gotten him for that. In comparison to his brothers, Kieran had always been leaner, his shoulders never as broad. He lacked the sort of width that made men reconsider fighting him. They had sought Kieran for his weaving, his mimicry that only added wear and tear onto his throat. He hadn't realized that the personal doctor they hired for him added yet another debt for him to pay off. Kieran began going to a witch doctor instead for a bit of relief. It didn't work as well and it smelled and tasted awful, but at least it kept the doctor from visiting him with his outrageous fees.

With how things were going, Kieran felt as if he'd never get away from the wealthy's clutches. He'd be indentured until he was a old man. Unfortunately, not even death would be able to release him. He wasn't going to get into that with Evyn now. Fingers reached out to one of the damaged petrified stones, picking it up and examining it with an untrained eye. He still thought it was pretty still, that the rough edges and mismatched colors held a sort of ingenuity that the perfect stones were probably missing. Perhaps he'd go snooping around the halls of the Lord and Lady.

"You wouldn't leave Veya." Kieran said firmly, almost pitying. "Beth and Amie don't have your know-how, the street smarts to stay afloat in the slums. They don't have the curse of weaving, either." He frowned, put the stone back and looked away. As old as he was, as much shit as he had seen, Kieran didn't want to think about what the two of them would have to resort to. At best, they'd find a old man with a home that didn't have a roof that leaked. At worse... a shiver raked through his torso. So many of the brothers and sisters had ended up leaving or indentured.

There were still times he thought about breaking Ledan's nose about it. There were even times he wanted to punch Duscan, too. If it were possible, he'd punch his own face.

"Besides, Eve, where would you go? They're all the same, different shit, same smell."

No. She wouldn't leave Veya.

Not when she already bought a home for herself and begun to fill it with possessions. She had found good soil, well enough that it would do the job, and she had began to set down roots and finally rest.

Evyn frowned, turning on him and letting him feel her irritation at how well he knew her.

Where would she go?

"I would go to Crorefell. That's where Duscan ran off to. The Packers claim it so, and I have never heard the Rat Pack been wrong before." They were not in the business of gossip, that was for sure. There was money to be handed out to anyone with credible information, even if that information was on some bastards squabble over a stolen chicken, those that had deep pockets would invest in anything. "I want to find him and... tell him it is alright to come home again."

Of course, Evyn didn't know if that information was true.

No one was speaking about Duscan the Bastard for a long while now, not when the True Born Rat — as she liked to refer to Ledan — did all he could to take all the attention.

"But I hate you. For being right." Evyn grumbled.
"I... I can't leave here. You're here. As in... all of you. You... know what I am talking about." Her family. The people that fucking mattered because after all the shit that went down, they never abandoned her truly. "But especially Beth and Amie, not when..." She bit down on her lip, and her body tensed for a moment. She was hesitating, the first sign that she was not sure she could say the next part in his presence...

Because, in Evyn's mind, now that Kieran was indentured, he was one of them.

The cold had secretly crept into Kieran's bones despite his fancy cloak and clothes, despite the liquid heat brought forth from the wine. He felt it more in his feet, his wool socks doing their best but the leather of his boots was cold as stone. He cracked his knuckles on both hands as Evyn spoke, wincing for how loud they were, not wishing to actually disrupt her. He hadn't thought about where Duscan had gone, hadn't cared.

He blamed him for things. He blamed Ledan for other things. He blamed himself for even more. At least he didn't blame Evyn for anything. Kieran never could.

"I'm always right," Kieran said with a little grin, giving the smallest of nudges with his elbow into Evyn's skinny arm. Unfortunately his eyes still held the somber bleakness of the sky above despite the tease. It was a shame that he had such honest eyes. He didn't know what to say about the other stuff. A part of him wanted to tell Evyn that Duscan probably didn't want to come home - if he did, wouldn't he be here? He wasn't so depressed as to say it out loud and possibly hurt his friend's feelings.

"So you're stuck here, same as everyone else. We all have something keeping us here." A dark chuckle. "You'd think Veya was cursed by a witch, anyone who comes here can't leave." When Kieran stood, he felt the cold in his knees. He looked down towards Evyn. He was still too selfish to offer his cloak."You gonna stay here a bit more? I can give you some privacy."

Her pale eyes fell away from his attempt at seeming cheerful. Guilt pulled her away, and she was left staring at the bare bones grave that belonged to a bastard brother. Kieran's brother.

"No... I... I was here two weeks ago." There were four other names she remembered, four other names that had washed away from stone or wood that marked graves but Evyn remembered where each was laid to rest. "I had my privacy then."

Every one else had gathered by Finnian's grave.

It was her luck that her face always rested to something pensive. That the sour expression and the pouting lips were simply part of her, and that was the mask Ev hid behind now. Did Kieran even remember Finny? He had a laugh, something so unique and memorable, everyone had said sounded like a hiccuping mule.

She did not ask him. Not today. Kieran had other things on his mind.

"I should go... I have... things to do." She did not. Evyn had not felt like lingering any longer here. She came to do what she needed, to check on Kier and...

And what?

He was alive and present. That was more she had done for him than he had for her in years.

Evyn leaned forward and picked up the stones, the mud finding their way beneath her nails as she did. "I need to get out of these wet clothes." Another excuse, but this time he could not argue her on the matter. She was pale enough, she looked ill from even sitting in the rain.

A quick step forward, an outreached hand in Evyn's direction.

"I'll walk you back home," Kieran said before he had even thought it. His face in that moment ceased to crease, eyes large, mouth wide, expression open, once again young in his sincerity. Kieran, though indentured, had gained some good things from it all. One of them were the new set of manners. "It's getting late anyways and the town is far." He added, in case she needed convincing.

Gray gravestones beneath gray skies, drenched wood stabbing through ashy hues. Only the small pockets of grass that peaked greenly against the dreary palette, reminding anyone who ventured into the overgrowing graveyard that things still lived. Kieran stood out like a big red tomato, but Evyn blended right in. Despite better judgement, Kieran loosened his cloak from around his neck, unsnapping the clasp unceremoniously as he pulled it off his shoulders.

"You can borrow my cloak," He offered, the rain making his hair darker, like the night during a total eclipse, no light in the sky. His heavy cloak, expertly dyed and made of a material no bastard should feel accustomed to wearing. His cheeks and lips faced the chilling raindrops first.

She stared at him, but something made her not be able to decline his offer. It wasn't really an offer, but she had thought that if she had refused, he wouldn't be able to argue with her on that.

Evyn fell into step with him, both of them heading towards the pathway between graves and taking them out to the stone path that bordered the true purpose of this place. For those that had family and bloodline, money had been spent on a cemetery. Everything on that side gleamed with polish; some stones white in their purity of marble.

Her eyes couldn't help watching him play with his cloak. It's colour demanded to be seen, and watching him with the backdrop of Veyan wealth, she could not take her eyes away from him. Evyn watched as his head tilted up just a fraction, how his chin jutted out and gave her a glimpsed to his neck. He was pretty, but she didn't need to say that.

Kieran knew that already.

Her staring came to a break as he offered his cloak to her. She blinked, frowning at the garment. Her lips had moved, to accept it but she had stopped herself before she made that mistake.

Evyn averted her gaze. "No. I'm fine. I've lived in rain before." It was an excuse, a gentle one, but her face took up a storm of emotions held back. She held the utmost hatred for those with money, had felt abandoned and betrayed when Duscan had become indentured, when Kieran did the same too. The Veyan nobles and rich merchants had taken her family apart, and left her behind.

She was no weaver. There was no magic to grace her veins and make her coveted by a well off family.

"You should put it back on. Your shirt doesn't look like it will last long getting wet." Or did he already think that the family he worked for would replace it with no other thought?

Ouch.

Despite having been stabbed before this somehow felt worse. As if he never lived in the rain before either, as if he were some pampered pet who'd upset his owners if his coat became dirty. Begrudgingly, Kieran didn't argue with Evyn, putting his cloak back over his shoulders. His fingers easily pressed the clasp against his collar and then raised his wide hood up and over his head. He looked down at Evyn with the sort of look that could hide the jab to his pride, neutral and uninterested in her words. When he cleared his throat, the mask slipped.

"I was only going to let you wear it until you got home." The Indentured said. "Because I had planned to walk you home." Now he wondered if Evyn realized that was what he wanted to do all along and why she had refused his offer to keep dry. "Only so I could take it back with me. Wasn't gonna let you keep it." He'd owe the family even more money than he already did if that was the case. The rain didn't help him feel any less awkward, wondering if now he was being too mean. That was the issue, was he too nice, was he too mean, was he just forgetting how to act because most of the time he had to pretend?

She could not hear the wound in his voice, but Evyn saw it the moment she turned to look at him and saw it in his expression before it was washed away with a fresh sleet of rain hitting them.

An apology was there, spoken in her mind, but to say it aloud was a difficult task for her. Evyn always took a dance to skirt around the talks of the class differences in Veya, especially when her loved ones had taken the opportunity to rise from being a lowly bastard.

Instead, Evyn's hand shot out and clasped around his. Her skin was cold and most likely unwelcomed touch, but she gripped Kieran's hand tight. She squeezed twice.

"If you want, you can stay a while. Let your things dry a little... I got a fireplace built." And what a luxury it was. It had been her first large purchase after saving up for the room itself, but slowly and patiently, Evyn was building herself someone of her own in the scarred areas of Veya. "And I probably have some old things of Duscan's still." Meaning they would fit him if he chose to let his clothes dry some.

Evyn pulled him towards home once they left the cemetery. Hands still clasped, she took advantage by standing closer to him and took comfort in the small amount of heat he gave off with his drench cloak. Only after a few minutes did she loosen her hand, a subtle way to let him know he could let go if he wished.

Two tight squeeze of icicle-like fingers wouldn't be enough for Kieran to pull his hand out of Evyn's grip. He hoped his hand felt warm enough to help melt off some of the cold that emanated from hers like a reminder that spring would come even after the harshest of winters. Their friendship now was much like the seasons and it had been a very long winter.

Familiar streets looked all the less familiar as rain continued to poor against the two foolish enough to still be out beneath the downpour. Kieran didn't want to wear any of Duscan's things, even if they would be dry and warm compared to his current garb. Steel and leather could always carry that chill against his skin as if ice and shadows lurked all about him.

"Fireplace sounds nice," The indentured said, picking around the topic of Duscan like his least favorite vegetable on a plate, something that now Kieran could afford to do. Being picky was a luxury, one of the few times that had him feeling completely in control of himself and his predicament.

Only the rats were willing to scamper about the drenched muck of the alleyways, climbing over rotting broken barrels and boxes left behind from brawls and carriages. The rain helped to mask the usual stench of the forlorn streets, Veya always seemed to produce many drunks within its walls, and drunks were never known for caring about where they left their messes at. While the rain could fill the silence between them, Kieran's mouth opened nervously.

"You know, the Lord and Lady I serve has this massive dining room with a huge, long table and this fireplace that practically takes up an entire wall. Whenever they want one of their guests to leave they sit them at the end of the table closest to the fireplace." His gray eyes were looking elsewhere, at a sign about to fall off from it's hinges, the creak of rust cutting through the pitter-patter of raindrops. Evyn wouldn't care about something so stupid, he should have kept his mouth shut.

After crossing the street, Evyn dropped his hand.

She made a show of lifting her hands to shield her eyes and look down the alley, when she knew it was not the one she was after.

"I am not a highborn plague with visitors." She sniffed. "I am inviting you to my fire to keep warm and dry off, and perhaps you could humour me by asking questions of what I have been doing with my life lately."

Evyn took off from him before he could speak, her boots squelching into the muddy path as she found the alley that cut through a great section of this block. From there, her home was not too far. The rain fell heavier, causing her to dip into an alcove that gave shelter from the down pour somewhat. It felt nice not to feel the droplets weighing on her head, and here she could take a moment to breathe. Her hand gripped Kieran's arm and steered him to take shelter beside her.

She was pressed up against him, already warmer by being in close contact with him.

"We should wait for it to pass... It is too dark for me to really see where I am going when it is raining this hard." Her voice was louder, aimed near his ear so that he could listen. Outside this reprieve, it was hard to hear anything at all.

"...perhaps you could humour me by asking questions of what I have been doing with my life lately."

Duh, Kieran, duh. That made more sense than him telling her how nonsensical the nobility he served were. What was he going to tell her next, that he had caught the lord and lady arguing about how one garden had hummingbirds but the rose garden didn't and they wanted the hummingbirds to be there instead? Didn't the idiots realize that the hummingbirds were in the other garden because the vine flowers pronounced nectar?

Good thing he had only mentioned the fireplace. Bad thing he had hadn't had the guts to just ask Evyn how she was doing, what she was doing - wait, what was she doing? Pulled into her, back against the wall, their bodies close and touching. Kieran looked down at her, thoughts about the Lord and Lady disappearing. He had thought she was annoyed enough at him to not want to have their faces so close together. He raised a brow.

"Rain like this might not pass for hours," He raised his voice just enough for her to hear, not quite loud enough to be a shout and bring about unwanted attention. "You shouldn't have been so stubborn and taken my cloak." But she hadn't and now they were here. Kieran felt even if he offered it now she still wouldn't take it. He pressed the back of his head hard against the wall. Rain fell from the sky faster than the seconds passing.

"So what have you been doing with your life lately?"