At first, he thought that Ahiga had simply fainted from lack of food, and Strel's heart began to hammer in his chest. It pushed against his ribs as he jerked forward as the boy fell to the ground like a limp rag. His breath caught as the worry filled his lungs like toxic gas where oxygen ought to have been. The Dauphin fell to his knees before the youth, hands outstretched as Ahiga sat limp. He did not touch him yet, for fear that the youth would push him away and flee as he seemed he ought to do. But no, Strel knew he had the advantage here as the older, maybe stronger. If Ahiga was any better, perhaps he would have had the strength to fight him, to push, to win, but not today.
The accusations flew, baseless and sharp as the man recoiled a bit but suddenly pressed his hands to the youth's shoulders and pulled him close in an affectionately manner. He did not want Ahiga to suffer as he had. First his father had abandoned him, abandoned his mother. Then his mother and uncle left, siblings too. He knew Ayasha was around but she was north with the Anathema men and women, with her boy she risked all for. Now it was just him, just the two of them left in a place where their blood no longer remained. Strel had never had a family here, just a multitude of friends.
"I will not go, not when you need me." Ahiga could deny it all he wanted, but he could not escape the undeniable fact that the two of them needed one another. Strel needed someone to curb him and his vices, to keep his sins in check. Ahiga needed an adult to love and care for him and watch out for him. Together they could be the checks and balances the other needed and support one another the way they oh so desperately needed. "Please come back with me," he said softly with a tone of pleading in his voice.
Photo taken by Fergal of Claddagh. Table style inspired by Kitty.
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