(This takes place when Styxx and Maite/Arie were cubs)
Styxx closed his eyes against the sunlight streaming through the leaves above them. Arie lay on her side, humming softly, he on his stomach, his head pillowed by her side.
Moons had passed since they'd first met. And every three days they had come to this spot. Sometimes he hadn't been able to get away, sometimes he came and stayed longer. It seemed forever ago that she had asked why he hurt, why he ached. Instead, she just curled around him and talked to him, groomed him, massaged the sore muscles. The day she'd learned how to treat such a thing had been heaven to Styxx. She had the touch of a goddess, his Arie. Not long after they'd met, he'd stumbled over her name and she offered the nickname her family, her caretaker had given her, Aren. But that didn't seem right, using her family's name when he wasn't. And... if Styxx were to be honest, he wanted to be special. So he had asked if he could call her Arie instead. She'd loved it.
"What is that?" he asked, his voice no more of a whisper. They had beaten him again yesterday, his back was sore and bruised where the heavy paws had slapped, his voice hoarse from his own involuntary cries. It hadn't been until he had no voice left to cry out that they had stopped. As soon as he learned not to voice his pain, to "lose the feelings" that were a bane on a true warrior, then they would stop. At least now he didn't show the rest of his emotions anymore...
Arie stopped humming.
"What is what?"
"The song."
"Oh, my mama sings it to help us sleep." She felt him shake slightly, what she had learned to recognize as his short attempt at laughter.
"Trying to make me sleep?"
"No, I just thought you might like it," Arie replied, twisting so that she could give his ear a lick. He shivered a bit before leaning his head closer to hers. He seemed so tired, so maybe she was trying to lull him to sleep. He'd told her he never slept well, that it was hard to relax when he wasn't here, with her. She didn't understand why, but never asked. If he wanted to tell her, he would.
"Tell me, about your mama?" She heard the question in his voice and carefully stroked her paw against his right side. Ever since that first day, he'd made sure to face his left side away from her, ashamed of the burned flesh.
"The most ni- ah, nicest mama in the world, I bet. Sometimes she can be strict, making sure I get to my lessons on time and that I do my studies and don't wander off for too long, but she always holds me tight and sings to me, she gives me treats, and always tells me how much she loves me."
Styxx's heart clenched. Would that he had a mother like that. He'd told Arie how he'd gotten burned, that it had been a punishment instead of an accident. Of course, he hadn't told her it was because he had continuously shown emotion, he was terrified that if he told her he wasn't a rogue, that he was a Dal'ek, she would hate him, fear him, and worse, leave him and never come back. He couldn't tell her that he had been born wrong, marked when Dal'eks shouldn't be, empathetic when Dal'eks were cold. He couldn't tell her that his father blamed his mother and threw her away, that his mother in turn blamed him, lashed out at him, had nearly killed him when she scored his chest. He'd only survived on his own stupid will.
He'd never seen her again after that day. But sometimes he could still hear her words screeching in his ear. "You're not my son! My body could never have borne a mewling, pathetic, filthy creature as you!"
Styxx suppressed a shudder by pressing his face deeper into Arie's fur.
"She sounds wonderful," he whispered, nuzzling into her fur so that she couldn't turn and see the heartache he let sneak into his eyes.
"Ettore?"
"Mmm?"
"You don't talk about your family." Arie felt him stiffen at her side and her soft frown deepened in concern. "They can't be that bad."
"You've no idea... "
"No, I don't, that's why I asked." He sighed and shook his head ever so slightly.
"Please, ask me anything else." The strain in his voice touched her heart and Arie knew she couldn't press him any further. By this point she figured he was a slave to the Dal'eks, that they were the ones who beat him so terribly and so often. Could she be wrong and it was someone in his family? She couldn't even begin to imagine it.
"Okay, I won't ask again." She searched her mind for something else to talk about, so something she could do to make him feel better. Ah, that was it! "What do you do for fun?"
"Come see you."
Arie smiled and shook her head as she glanced at him again. "I mean besides that."
Ettore turned his head a little, so that she could only barely tell that he wasn't looking at her when he said, "There's nothing beside this."
"Truly?"
"Don't lie."
"Oh Ettore..." There was pain in her voice, he could hear it plain as day. He felt stupid telling her that, he didn't want her pity, he just... Well, Styxx wasn't sure what he wanted from her exactly, not in so few words. Why did he come here? This was more than just an escape for a few moments, this was something he'd been missing in his life. Her softness, her kindness, the fact that she touched him with the intent to soothe rather than injure, the lilting quality of her voice as she murmured to him, that was what he wanted. She brought him peace, acceptance. To her, he wasn't defective or weak. To her he was just... a friend in need.
"I don't want your pity, Arie." And yet still he felt her shift beneath his head. Styxx sat up and tried to move away, but he was tired and she was faster. Before he could get away, her paws were around him, careful as she hugged him. A part of him wanted to push her away, to leave, but it felt too damn good to finally have someone hold him that he just closed his eyes and rested his head against hers.
"It's not pity, it's... Okay, I don't know what it is. I just wish there was something I could do."
"What you do is more'n'enough."
"It doesn't feel like it... Oh, oh, I have an idea." Her voice was hushed and she was smiling just a bit when she pulled from the hug. She gently prodded at him, setting him back down. This time she settled next to him and unsheathed a claw on her right paw. She wouldn't hurt him, he knew that in the core of his being, but still he flinched a little, leaning away slightly.
"Watch," Arie said and started scratching her claw in a small patch of dirt. He had a frown on his face as he watched her, the scratches quickly forming the general, if a bit crude, shape of a hare. He'd never seen anyone do that before, but then it made sense. His pride would see all of his interaction with Arie as useless, would no doubt kill him for it. But that's what made her special. She was his own little rebellion, the contact to a world his soul craved.
After a moment, Styxx drew out a claw and started scratching in the dirt as well. It took a few moments, and a couple of times he had to blink to refocus on his task, but eventually he'd managed a curvy, loopy shape, like the one on Arie's chest. He realized he shouldn't have done it when he head her breath suck in a bit sharply.
"Sorry," he said and went to wipe it away, but her paw stilled his. He glanced up; she was beaming at him.
"It's really pretty. I mean, I think you're better than I am," she replied and his maw quirked up in a ghost of a smile, his head shaking back and forth.
"Not as good as the real thing." Arie felt heat rush into her cheeks and she pressed her nose to his cheek.
"My mama says it isn't nice to flatter."
"Not flattering when it's the truth." Arie giggled and blushed even more, nuzzling her friend to try and hide it.
(WC: 1,455)