pieces of what doesn't matter anymore

[AHMOSE]

It was warm in the house - at least one thing had gone right today. It certainly was a lot better than being out in the cold, competing for space on the road with other people, and carts, and animals, struggling to have your voice heard over the roar at the markets, walking past the tantalising smells of the thermopolia and knowing you couldn't pause for a quick snack.

It was also much, much better than tripping on a broken flagstone because you were too busy looking at said thermopolium, making harsh contact with the ground and then being nearly trampled. Then again, most things were preferable to that. The fact that he then had to pick himself up, go all the way to the markets, and then trudge all the way back had only made things worse.

But he was free now, at least, free of any pre-arranged commitments. If he didn't hurt so much, he would have taken a moment to feel a little guilty - but as it was, he just sat in the corner of the atrium, pushed up between the wall and a pot plant, rubbing a throbbing arm through the fabric of his tunic. He was hesitant to push back the sleeve to see if it was grazed or bleeding; didn't even want to know if a bruise was forming. Because that was the part of him that hurt the least. Who knew falling and being tripped over could cause so much damage?

I should pay more attention, he thought to himself, leaning back against the painted wall, rubbing what was probably dirt from his eye. He couldn't get whatever it was out, so he blinked furiously, his eyes watering in the process, trying to wash them clean. His blurred vision was only slightly worse than normal, although he severely hoped that his world wouldn't degenerate in to mashed, misshapen blobs of colour.

He was certain to trip over even more.

Just a little while. Just a bit longer. He would sit there just a moment more, just one more moment, and then he'd get back to work. Cleaning or something. Either way, he'd find a way to be useful, and not just clumsy. He just prayed that no-one would walk in before he had the chance to slink away - they might think he was sitting in the corner and crying or something. And he already had enough esteem issues. He didn't need to be pitied on top of everything else!

[CAELIUS AELIANUS]

What was he doing it with his day? Wasting it, that's what. Caelius rarely wasted time. After all, when he was a busy man - well, normally busy, anyway - he should be doing his work right away! Punctuality is a virtue, as they say, and it was always important to get his papers in on time if he had any hopes of ever becoming senator. That, of course, was years away yet; he was still in his twenties, hardly old enough to be a senator according to law. Of course, if he could have been a senator by now, he was fairly certain he would be; it was a bit of a tradition now. The eldest son always reached the position of senator when he came of age, after working through the ranks.

Always.

Naturally, that put a bit of a pressure on Cae's shoulders. In the beginning, he had been innocent enough - bright, intelligent, taking in the lessons his father gave him with as much eagerness as a young boy could. And then came the time where he went to war. He still hadn't quite gotten over those years. After all, it had only been - what, a year? - since he'd gotten back. The carnage. The bloodthirst. It haunted him. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone - because, let's face it. He's the man of the family. He needs to bear the responsibility anyway. What good would telling anyone do, anyway? All it would result in was an upset younger brother, and Caelius wasn't willing to instigate that.

So yes - back to what he was doing. Or, rather, not doing was more like it; he started on the paperwork in his private study, stood, and began pacing. He looked out the window at the cold world, saved by the fireplace, and then paced some more. And when he heard the downstairs door open and close, he felt glorious relief! Now he'd have someone to talk to, and a reason not to do his paperwork. Normally, he was very punctual with his papers. Today was just not a good day, it seemed.

Making his way downstairs, Caelius spotted his servant crouching by the wall. "What are you doing over there?" he asked with a grin and a mirthful look in his eye. "Slacking off on the job?" In all reality, Caelius didn't think Ahmose was really all that capable of slacking off on his job. It kept him too busy. And really, his jesting was all in good fun; there was nothing mean about it. But when Caelius really looked at Ahmose, his smile slipped away and his frown deepened. "... What happened?" he asked, this time completely serious as he knelt down in front of the boy to examine his - what appeared to be - trampled face. "Ahmose, what happened?" Tentatively, Caelius touched his hand to the boy's cheek, brow furrowing and mind racing - had someone beat his slave? His Ahmose? Oh, he hoped that wasn't the case.

[AHMOSE]

No, no, no! Of all the people he wanted to see him like this, during the aftermath of some stupid mistake, Caelius was probably at the end of the list. And it would be a long list, because it would consist of everyone he knew. He wished he could run and hide somewhere, hide his embarrassment, hide the fact that he was being a hindrance, but he had nowhere to run. Ahmose regretted choosing the corner to gather himself in, because it meant he was pent in on all sides; he couldn't shy away from that brief touch, couldn't back away with stammered excuses.

"Sir... I-It's nothing," he said, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his scarf. "I fell. That's all." Twirling the coarse red fabric around his hands, tugging on the fraying ends... the movement helped the boy distract himself from the fact that just being so near his master made his face hot, and just that one slight touch was enough to send his heart racing. Anyone else! Anyone else could've cornered him like this, and he wouldn't have cared; because the only person's opinion he held close was Cae's.

He couldn't stand it. He was wasting Cae's time - his work was so important, and here he was, a clumsy slave, taking away from that! The last thing he wanted to be was a burden, and that's exactly what he felt like.

Ahmose knew he wasn't good for much. Anyone could clean and run errands. It wasn't the hardest job in the world. He'd been trying to make himself more useful, to get better at reading and writing so he could help with... with paperwork, or filing, or something, and not just be that kid who trips on his way to the store. But no - he could see more accidents like this in his future, down a long narrow path that ended in blackness. As much as he wanted more than anything to escape that inevitable darkness, he knew one day he'd be rendered more useless than ever.

So you'd think the world could've cut him some slack just this once. There was plenty of time for him to feel inadequate in front of the one person he wanted to please. So why start with the embarrassment now?

[CAELIUS AELIANUS]

Caelius, ignorant and naive as he was toward his servant, was completely unaware of the boy's feelings. Well, in his defense - it wasn't like he was too open about the way he felt or anything in the first place. How was Caelius, who was almost always busy with work, supposed to notice the effect he had on the boy? He couldn't, that's what! So really, the only person at fault here was Ahmose. No, wait - that came out wrong. Ahmose wasn't at fault, perse, but more... Well it was kind of his fault. Sort. Though one can rarely challenge and change matters of the heart, it still sounded like a personal problem.

Anyway, Caelius touched his fingers lightly to the boy's cheek. He was getting all ready and riled up to go punch someone in the jaw for messing with his servant. Were they stupid? Were they completely inferior? They had to be! Everyone knew Caelius' servant - he had the boy run things to and from his work building all the time. It wasn't exactly a secret that Caelius got rid of most of his servants except for Ahmose, that Ahmose was his favorite, so really the person who dared to ruffle up his Ahmose was going to get it bad. He hadn't been in the army for ten years and come back completely defenseless, after all.

But Ahmose insisted that it was just a trip; but surely a trip couldn't do that much damage? Caelius gave a pause, frowning even more now, unsure of what to do. Should he press Ahmose? He'd heard that victims of abuse were reluctant to talk at first because they were frightened. So maybe he should give the boy time to calm down. Still firmly convinced that the boy had been beaten, he gave a slight nod. "Well, come along anyway, then," he replied finally, still looking slightly displeased. He was sure that someone had hurt his Ahmose. And once he got the truth from his servant, well, someone would certainly be getting a visit from him. "We'll get you cleaned up in no time, yes? Come, stop the tears." He rubbed a finger comfortingly along Ahmose's brow, giving a soft, warm smile. He'd clean his servant up himself, just to prove how important it was that Ahmose be safe and happy.

Standing, he took the young boy's hand, tugging on it. "Well? Come then, follow me - and don't you give me a look, you're coming and I'm cleaning you up whether you like it or not."

[AHMOSE]

Please just go! He didn't say the words, but he certainly thought them loudly. He was keeping his master from his work, important work, because an act of clumsiness had rendered him useless! Ahmose was at a loss as to why Caelius had kept him around, a blind little Egyptian boy, when he had gotten rid of so many less burdensome servants.

His thoughts were cut short by that touch; not only because it was Cae's hand brushing so softly against his skin, but because it did actually hurt a little. Maybe it was worse than he thought. Maybe it was a good thing someone had come to fret over him. Otherwise he just would've gone about his duties as usual, which probably would not have been a good idea. He smiled back then, with a softly spoken "Thank you," barely able to get those words out past his heart (which had just lept in to his throat). Standing, he was gripped with conflicting feelings. He should pull his hand away from the man's... but he also wanted nothing more than to leave it there, forever.

He stared at the ground as he followed his master, using his spare hand to adjust his scarf so that he could hide both his face and the blush he knew was there. This was getting ridiculous. He should know better by now! Should know that if he kept this up, he'd just spend his whole life pining after something he could never have. Maybe if he'd been born a girl, things could've been different. Maybe he'd have had a chance, then, to catch Cae's eye and keep it. It wasn't unheard of, for a man to fall for a servant girl. Ahmose just supposed that fate really hated him - giving him things just to take them away. An infatuation that he knew would never be returned, sight he knew wouldn't last. What would be next? Would he lose the ability to walk, speak, feel?

His hand tightened in the man's as these troubling thoughts plagued his mind, rather taking away from that state of guilty pleasure he had been (secretly) enjoying.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful. I know you have lots of work to do, so I can take care of myself. I'm fine, really." His eyes still on the floor, he mumbled the words through his scarf, muffled but still audible. One day, he would stop being such a burden. But unfortunately, that wasn't today.