Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (cont'd)

(*whips out super old timeline*)

"Around 370 years old." Or was it 371? "The date'll be in the library somewhere, certainly. It wasn't a well-documented time but we would have that on record without a doubt."

(haha!)

"An impressive feat," Aleth answered, for once able to be genuine. "Not many things last that long."

"We have been fortunate enough not to be pulled into very many wars." Something that was beginning to change, thanks to him. Gaius picked up the pace; this damnable hall was just a shortcut to another area. Why was it making him talk about things he didn't wish to speak of?

"A blessing no doub--" Aleth inhaled sharply as he tried to match Ash's pace but instead stubbed his missing toes. He clenched his teeth, face turning red with the effort it took to bite back all the profanity that wanted to spring forth. He didn't breathe back out.

Gaius turned as he heard the gasp, raising an eyebrow. Ah, he'd forgotten about the toes. Usually he was the one struggling to keep up with other Lords and generals, though the members of the Keep usually walked at his pace. "My apologies; I'd forgotten you were recovering. Are you hurt?"

Aleth's heart still wanted to shout every last profane word that he knew.

His brain wanted to deny being hurt. To assure Ash he was fine and this was fine and everything was fine.

He still hadn't breathed out.

Aleth swallowed hard and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, let the breath out -- being careful not to whimper. He blinked back the tears that stung his eyes from the lack of air, then took another cautious breath. When he spoke his words were barely louder than a breath. "I'm sir fine... fine... sir."

What a blundering idiot.

"Perhaps we should find you a walking stick." Gaius tapped his own on the stone floor, and the sound echoed around the half-abandoned hallway. "One wouldn't think it would do anyone much good--just another burden to carry around--but they're actually quite good at what they do." He glanced toward the end of the hall, so close now. "Whenever you're ready."

"Yes, sir." Aleth swallowed hard, gingerly putting weight back on his foot -- though he planted it on his heel this time, well away from his toes. He hobbled forward a step.

Gaius watched, outwardly projecting an air of patient understanding--perhaps with a little anticipation mixed in--and inwardly praying for them to get a move on.
"Try leaning on the wall," he suggested. "That will serve as support for a time."

"Yes, sir," Aleth murmured again, flushing with embarrassment. This hadn't been part of the plan. He put his hand on the wall and forced himself forward faster than was comfortable, forcing his expression to be neutral. He didn't want to make a burden of himself. But it fucking hurt.

Gaius matched Al's torturously slow pace with mild reluctance. Moving this slow hurt his own leg; a quick limp was preferable to putting weight on the gnarled bones for more than a second. Neverthless he moved, gritting his teeth in silence.

A few steps in Aleth figured out how to balance his weight and was able to speed up a bit, though he kept his gaze on the ground, distracted by the pain.

"You seem unaccustomed to pain," Gaius said after a long silence. "Not something I would expect in a former slave."

Fuuuck.

He had a good point.

"I don't know that I'm unaccustomed so much as maladapted," Aleth answered, forcing the waver out of his voice. "I've never been good at handling pain, whether it be from my father or my master... my apologies, sir. I'll do better."

"It wasn't a criticism. Merely a comment." Gaius himself had a concerningly high tolerance for pain--perhaps Michael had done him a favor after all. "Perhaps we should see you back to the infirmary before your hurt yourself."