Rose Colored Blindfold

Rose Colored Blindfold Rose Colored Blindfold   By Amanda and Tenchi Kaze   Chapter 3   Once he could feel cobblestones under his feet, Raquel knew he had reached the marketplace. Something was different about it, however. There seemed to be many people around somewhere nearby, even though it was raining. He shrugged this off, trying to find his familiar edge of the marketplace wall.   A few yards away, however, someone amongst the thick crowd caught a glimpse of Raquel's face, his eyes widening slightly at seeing the blind boy. Curious, the man pushed his way back through the crowd toward the boy, calling to him, "Oy, ain't you that blin' child I turn'd ou' a few years ago?"   Raquel recognized that voice. It was the man who, long ago, had told him he had to leave his master's manor. The one who had cast him out onto the street. "...I am Raquel," he said softly, stiffening.   The man grinned, coming right up to Raquel and taking his chin, studying him for a few moments. "Well bless my soul, so ya are. Still wanderin' tha streets o' this middle o' nowhere town, are ya?"   "I don't have anywhere else to go," the boy replied, and he meant it. "My master never came back for me, and no one else has claimed me."   "Really..." said the man, considering something. "Say, wouldn' ya like to get off tha streets for a while? Live in a nice 'ouse and start off life with a new master? I'm not one ta take ya in m'self, but I'm sure someone else would."   "...Maybe." At that moment, Raquel wanted anyone he could find to help heal the wound in his heart. "Please, take me to someone. Someone who'll take care of me."   The man's grin widened again. "Sure thing..." he said, putting a hand on Raquel's shoulder and leading him through the crowds. They weaved around for a while until they came behind a large wooden platform where many people were. Most of the people up there were chained in some manner, and the only person who wasn't was an auctioneer of some sort, yelling out for bids on the young men and women who were chained.   "What's going on?" Raquel asked. "All I can hear is voices, everyone's voices at once."   However, the man wasn't listening to Raquel, ignoring his words until they reached a set of stairs behind the platform. When they got there, he turned the boy to face him and reached for the front of his cloak. "You're goin' ta hafta take off most o' you're clothes, first."   "But... but this cloak and my breeches are all I have on!" Raquel protested, beginning to feel uncomfortable.   "There are plenty o' other people up there wearin' absolutely nuffin' at all, so ya have no reason ta be squeamish," the man said, his tone getting more persuasive by the moment.   The boy hesitated; he thought about what it would be like to be exposed in front of hundreds of people. At least he wouldn't be able to see their eyes roving. "...All right. But only for now," he murmured, peeling the wet cloak off and the breeches along with it. The rain on his skin felt like liquid ice.   "Heh, tha's more like it." The man took Raquel by the hand a little roughly, leading him up the stairs and calling the auctioneer over. He whispered a few quick words in the auctioneer's ear before making Raquel climb the last few stairs to join the line of slaves.   "We have a new offering," the auctioneer called loudly, and in response some of the people in the crowd whistled lecherously. "This is a young man who just recently was given to us, having been living on the streets. He's young, but hard-working and loyal." The man smiled. "And I'm offering a great price for this one... He's been blinded, but he's still worthwhile."   At the word "blinded," people's whoops and whistles began to die down, and the man who had put Raquel up on the platform was beginning to get restless. He wondered if trying to sell him would be a complete failure. Until...   "Eighty-five pence," came a lone voice in the quieting crowd, surprising nearly everybody there.   "Eighty-five?" the auctioneer asked, looking amused. "Well... this man here is offering much more than expected! Do I hear any higher bids?"   There were no more bids from the crowd, most people simply believing the man offering to pay that much to be a loony. "Well, I don't hear any other bids," said the man in the crowd as he walked toward the front, rain splattering down on a head of chin-length red-orange hair.   "May we have your name, sir?" asked the auctioneer, reaching back to take a hold of Raquel's hand. "I'm sure your new purchase will want to know it."   Climbing up onto the stage and taking Raquel's hand roughly from the auctioneer's, he said, "Gavin Reed, not that it's important to him. Aren't slaves simply supposed to call their owner 'Master'?"   "Hm, you certainly have your priorities straight..." The auctioneer leaned close to Gavin, whispering. "Enjoy your new acquisition."   "I'm sure I will." Gavin smirked, jerking Raquel to his side. "Come, then. I shall take you back home with me now."   Raquel trembled slightly, the rainy air chilling his blood. He kept his head down as he walked beside Gavin, murmuring, "Yes, Master."   Gavin handed the promised money to the auctioneer before they left the platform, and soon they were on their way past the crowd at the auction to a much quieter and more desolate area of the town. True, the houses were quite a bit nicer than average, but the whole place seem to have an air of almost eerie silence. It was almost as if the place had turned into a ghost town.   "It's quiet," Raquel remarked as they walked. "You must live far out in the fields... it must be nice to be away from the crowds."   "Yes, nice indeed..." said Gavin, the self-satisfied grin still on his face. "It's such a relief of stress to not have to worry about... distractions."   "Distractions? Do people bother you all the time?" Raquel asked. "I can understand why that would irritate you."   "I prefer to keep to myself, mostly, except for those who serve me. I don't like people intruding on my activities." The man stifled a dark chuckle, stopping in front of a particularly expensive-looking house. Though not quite as grand as one who might own a great manor out on a piece of fertile land, it was still obvious that Gavin was relatively well off. "Here, we are," he said, walking up to the door and turning the handle to let himself and Raquel inside.   Raquel took a few steps inside, then a few more, moving about the large main hall. "Your home... it's very large," he murmured, a little awed. Then a smile came over his face. "You could wander in here for years and no one would find you..."   "I would advise you not to try, as I don't fancy the idea of losing such a..." Gavin looked Raquel over up and down, his eyes drinking in the sight of the boy, "...delectable new addition to the house."   "I don't usually get lost once I know my way around," Raquel replied, suddenly realizing that the man at the auction still had his clothing. For a moment he felt like the ground had dropped out from underneath him. 'My... master's cloak, and his cologne!' After a moment, however, he realized that that was the least of his problems. "I'm... a little cold," he murmured, hoping that Gavin might have some spare clothing he could borrow.   "Are you, now?" said Gavin, laughing a bit. He took Raquel's wrist and began to lead him through the house. "That is a problem easily remedied."   "You mean you have something I can use?" the boy asked, following behind Gavin with clumsy steps. "All I really need is... is a robe of some sort, really..."   At that, Gavin laughed loudly as they walked, simply saying, "You have no idea what kind of auction you were just sold at, do you?"   "Huh? I... I thought it was odd, but no one told me anything..." Raquel said. "I was just told that I could have a new master..."   "Heh, I don't blame you for not knowing. Generally, nobody but the people who can actually afford to make purchases know what's really going on. But I would have expected you— the property —to have been told, at least!" he said, anotherst rst of laughter escaping from him. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this..."   "M-Master?" Raquel asked, feeling fear rising in his throat. He yanked his arm back, trying to pull away and out of Gavin's grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about, but–"   Raquel's words were cut short as the back of Gavin's free hand smacked him across the face, knocking him back. The boy would have fallen to the floor from the force had Gavin not still been holding onto the boy's wrist. "I don't believe you are allowed to resist me, Slave. Now apologize to me, or I shall have to punish you." There was a dark glint in Gavin's eyes, and if Raquel could have seen it, he probably would have screamed with more fear than was already pulsing through him.   Raquel swayed back, putting a hand to his cheek. He was shocked, but had enough sense to stop struggling. "I-I'm sorry, Master," he said softly, turning away. "Please... I'm really sorry!" He held an arm in front of his face, in case Gavin decided to take another swing at him.   "Better," was all Gavin said, yanking open a door and pulling Raquel into the room that the doorway led to: a bedroom. There wasn't much distance between the door and the large bed, and the blonde boy was down flat on his back on the mattress in a matter of seconds. "Now, how to make sure you won't run away... Ah, I know," said the larger man, reaching underneath the bed and pulling out a length of rope. He took Raquel's wrists tightly together and bound them together with the rope, tying the end off to one of the bedposts.   Raquel was stiff with terror, not so much because he was bound, but because without Gavin holding onto his wrist anymore, he was unable to tell where exactly the man was. In front of him? To one side? That unto itself was more frightening than everything else that was happening.   With no warning at all, Raquel could feel a hot tongue slithering up his neck accompanied by a hungry mouth heavily breathing moisture onto his baby-soft skin. Raquel shuddered, pulling at his restraints. "Please, Master, don't..." he begged, his heartbeat quickening in distress. "I don't want this!"   "Mmm, that would be so much more enticing if you were begging for me to violate you," Gavin whispered lustily in Raquel's ear. With a swift movement of his hand, he was grasping Raquel's length, squeezing it hard. "Well, beg for it, Slave. Tell me how much you want me!" he growled, squeezing even harder.   The boy screamed and tossed his head from side to side as tears began to stream down his cheeks. "NO! I won't say it; I won't say ANYTHING like that! STOP IT NOW!"   That earned Raquel another hard slap, and the man stood up, looming over Raquel. As he began to pull down his pants, he hissed, "You could have made this easier on yourself, boy. Now I'm going to have to be rough with you!" The man crossed the room, kicking his pants and underwear off to the side on the way as he searched in his cabinet for something. "And you don't want to see me when I become rough!"   Raquel's eyes widened, tears still welling up in them. He instinctively curled into a fetal position, arms bent and shielding his face as best he could with them bound. "Wh...where are you?" he gasped, half to himself, half afraid to find the answer.   All was silent for a long time, the boy unable to know where Gavin was except for the occasional footsteps that were louder than others. The silence was near maddening, until finally, there was the sound of shutters being closed, and a husky, dangerous voice hovering just over Raquel's face. "...Right here..." And with that, Gavin forced Raquel's legs apart, pushing himself inside the boy with only the most minimal of preparation.   This time Raquel's cry was bloodcurdling, the intense pain of the forced entry adding an extra edge to his screams. He struggled until the rope tore at his flesh, making his wrists bleed. When he no longer had enough breath to continue, Raquel passed out with his eyes still open, spiraling into the darkness that he had often found himself and Mira occupying.   ******   Itiel was confused. He turned away from the door to the servant's quarters, walking away after having learned that Raquel wasn't there. 'Perhaps he went to the library again,' he thought, heading in the direction of that room.   Machiavellia almost ran directly into Itiel on her way down the hall, her eyes worried. She hbviobviously been looking for him. "THERE you are! I've been wandering the manor looking for you!" She tapped her foot impatiently. "You said you'd be waiting at the door when I got back. What have you been doing?"   Itiel blinked. Then his eyes widened a bit as he remembered. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Machiavellia! I must have forgotten that you would be back today."   "How could you forget?" she asked, exasperated. "What on Earth could possibly have made that fact slip your mind?" "Sometimes people just become forgetful," said Itiel, starting to become slightly annoyed with her. "If you had to know, I was looking for Raquel. I wanted him to make me some of that tea of his, and he's not in the servant's quarters."   "Gone, eh?" A smirk came to her face. "Not surprising. I wouldn't be shocked if he's up and left. All he wanted was a good place to sleep for a few days."   Taken aback, Itiel snapped at her, "He isn't like that! His plight was too sincere to have been faked." However, Itiel still wondered if maybe Machiavellia was right. If Raquel was gone, had he been tricking him all along?   "Have you grown a little attached?" Machiavellia put a hand on his shoulder. "I've dealt with it before. My servants have left me. They want a few days living in luxury, and then they fly... no matter what he said, isn't it obvious that that's what has happened here?"   "I'll admit, it's a possibility. But..." Itiel stared at the ground for a while, thoughts running through his head of the past few days. He remembered letting Raquel dress him, drinking the tea he prepared, reading to him in the library about Psyche and Eros... and how the little blind boy had somehow managed to chase away his nightmares. "All of that... that couldn't have all been one big lie, could it?"   "Mm, of course it could! You just met the little boy, how could you know if he was lying?" Machiavellia wrapped her arms around Itiel's shoulders. "You've been taken advantage of."   "Still... there's something that keeps telling me that that's not what it is. I don't know what, but I just don'tl frl from him what I would feel from someone who was lying," said Itiel, peeling Machiavellia's arms off him. "I can normally tell when people aren't giving me the truth."   Machiavellia's eyes narrowed. "Then I'd like to hear your theory. What do you think happened?" She seemed annoyed.   "Just because he isn't in servservant's quarters doesn't mean he is nowhere else in the house. I'm going to search the manor, and if he's not found, then I will admit that he's gone," said Itiel, a hint of stubbornness in his voice.   "Humph... I'll wait until I see the disappointment on your face when you realize that he's not coming back. There are many temptations in this world... He probably ran off to find them all," Machiavellia sniggered.   Itiel gave a "hmph" to Machiavellia over his shoulder as he continued on his way to the library. When he got there, he searched the whole place as best he could, hoping to find some trace of the boy having at least been there that day. However, there was none to be found. Neither was he in any other room or hallway that Itiel checked. He even looked inside of closets in case Raquel might have wandered inside thinking the door led to another room, but, again, no luck. He sighed, walking through the main hall. "Where could he have gone..."   Machiavellia leaned against the wall, still smiling. "What did I tell you? He's not here. There's nothing you can do about it now... poor you."   He bit his bottom lip in frustration, silent for quite a while. 'Maybe Machiavellia isn't mistaken. Maybe Raquel really has left for good...' However, ima image in his head of the boy's smiling face, and the memory of the sweet, innocent presence next to him almost like a shadow at times just would not leave Itiel's mind. He shook his head, a look of determination on his face now. "I'm going to find him."   "Are you? You know that that will be nearly impossible in a town that size..." She looked pouting. "Itiel, I think you would be better off forgetting about him..."   But Itiel was already on his way to the front door. As he reached for the handle, he said, "Even if he doesn't want to come back, I want him back." He paused before turning his head and grinning slightly at Machiavellia over his shoulder. "...He makes good tea."   Machiavellia raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes. "I will NEVER understand you..."   "You're probably right," said Itiel, looking back to the door and turning the handle. He pushed the heavy wooden door wide open, log upg up at the gray sky; it had just finished raining a little while ago.   Machiavellia watched him for just a moment. Then she huffed and turned away, heading for her chambers. "I'll just wait until you get back!" she called angrily.   "You do that!" he called over his shoulder as he pushed the door closed behind him. Then he set out, careful not to step in any of the wet mud that had been thickened by the earlier heavy rainfall. 'I don't know why, but I feel like I owe it to him to find him. And I'm not one to leave those that I owe without at least trying to repay them.'   ******   Later, Itiel finally reached the marketplace, his feet sore from having walked so far. 'I'm still not used to travelling these far distances...' he thought, wandering through the crowded streets of the town.   A man bumped Itiel as he walked by, muttering to himself. "Gotta fin' a place ta drop these... no use ta me," he said to himself, holding a pile of wet cloth in his hands. "Should'a given them ta tha' man..."   At first, Itiel paid the man no minut sut something caught his eye just as the man was almost out of sight. It was a bundle of pine green materiel, and nestled inside it was a small pottery container, with a familiar bracelet around the rim... He touched the man on the shoulder, turning him around. "Excuse me, but where did you get those?"   "Huh?" The man blinked, looking annoyed. "Lissen, I got no time ta explain 'tall ta ya. If ya hafta know, I got it offa a slave I was sellin'. A boy I knew. He's got no use for it no more."   "A slave, huh?" said Itiel, eyes lighting up slightly. "Any idea who he was sold to, or where he is now?"   "Some rich boy," the man replied. "Kinda like ya, but not s' fancy-like. Had him a headband on, and was headin' ta the west o' here, over yonder in th' fields. Why, a friend o' yours?"   "Sort of, yes," replied Itiel. "Listen, you said you wanted some place to dump those things? I can take them off your hands for you, if you like."   "Here," came the reply as the man gladly handed over the clothes and the jar. "Ah don' have any use for 'em. You kin burn 'em for all I care."   "Thank you, sir," was all Itiel said as he walked past the man, toward the west part of the city.   "Strange..." the man muttered. "Why should he care 'bout them rags?..."   ******   'The rich part of the city, then? But how will I find out which house? I can't exactly go up to every door and ask for their inventory of slaves,' Itiel thought as he walked, holding the wet cloak and the jar to his chest. 'I suppose I could peek in a few windows, just this once...'   Shuddering slightly and hoping not to accidentally see something of the disgusting variety, he walked on until he came to the desolate highbrow end of town. 'Now let's see...' Itiel looked around, not into any windows specifically at first. For the moment, he wanted to look for clues that would help him before having to peek inside one of the houses. He was rewarded for his patience, finally seeing one house with the front door open.   'It's worth a shot, at least,' he thought, heading for that house. He paused as he neared it, though. There were sounds coming inside that sounded more horrible than the screams of a dying man. And there was a hoarse screaming inside that sounded very familiar...   'Raquel!' he thought immediately, running to a window where the sound could be heard most clearly. Carefully, he stood on his very tiptoes, and peered in through the glass.   Raquel was curled into a fetal position on a large bed as he tried in vain to shield himself with arms that were bound together at the wrists. He screamed, a tortured sound that contained the utmost suffering. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his face and body were covered in deep scratches and cuts. "Nooooo! Master, stop!" riedried, curling into a tighter ball.   "Not until I've had my fill with you!" roared the orange-haired man, again lashing the riding crop across the nearly broken boy's back.   "You... you've already done..." Raquel gasped, unable to finish the sentence as the crop cut into his flesh. The pain was horrible, but it was nothing compared to what else Gavin could be doing.   Itiel gasped, unable to believe his eyes. 'Oh God... he's killing him!' Itiel immediately bolted from his spot, running as fast as his legs would carry him thought the front door of the house, pushing past a few of the bewildered sers ons on his way. When he reached the door of the room that connected to the side window he had been looking through, Itiel grabbed at the door handle, only to find that it was locked. He banged on the wood angrily. "Open up, right now!"   Gavin paused in mid-swing, the voice and the pounding on the door interrupting his next lash. "Strange, I have not heard this voice in my house before. What right does he have to disturb me now?" Gavin bledbled, shoving Raquel out of the way as he got off the bed and stomped toward the door.   Raquel's eyes opened, then widened, the familiar voice at the door cutting through his haze of pain. "...It's him..." he whispered in quiet shock.   Gavin pulled the door open a crack, his narrowed eyes meeting the cold stare of Itiel. "Who. Are. You?" Gavin asked angrily. "What are you doing in my house?"   Itiel pushed on the door, forcing himself into the room. "That's not important. What's important is that you're well on your way to killing that boy, there!"   "Itiel!" Raquel cried, struggling in the ropes. He was surprised that he had come for him, somewhat, but he was more worried about Gavin responding to Itiel's barging in by trying to injure the man. "Itiel," he continued desperately, "be careful!"   "So?" growled Gavin, clamping both hands on Itiel's shoulders. Hard. "What I do with my property is my own business. I pair hir him, and so I am allowed to do with him as I see fit."   "You sick, twisted fiend!" shouted Itiel as he tried not to wince from the force with which Gavin was trying to crush his shoulders. Unaware, however, there were servants coming up behind him, wondering what the trouble was, and they seemed very mad when they found out.   Gavin smirked. "What a shallow insult," he said, shoving him backward. Some of the male servants caught him by the arms, holding him back. "Perhaps you would like to see just how 'sick and twisted' I am."   Raquel twisted in the ropes, crying outright now, the tears glistening in his eyes. "Master, don't hurt hi'm b'm begging you...!"   "Who said anything about hurting him, Slave?" laughed Gavin, sauntering back over to the bed. "All he has to do is sit back and watch the fun."   Itiel struggled with all his strength, kicking and tugging at the men who restrained him, but the servants were stronger than they looked, and held him fast. "Let go of me!"   "No... No more..." The blind boy shifted on the bed, trying to get as far away from Gavin as possible. 'I don't want Itiel to see... to see it...' he thought, terrified.   Suddenly, a wide grin grew across Gavin's face, and instead he walked to the room's lit fireplace instead of the bed. He picked up an iron poker, twirling it around in his fingers for a moment before sticking a third of the poker into the flames. "What do you think, 'Itiel'? Can the slave take this?"   Itiel's eyes bulged nearly out of their sockets, and his struggles increase. "No! Don't use that on him! Don't hurt him anymore!"   Raquel's breathing quickened, panic quickly overriding all previous emotions. He couldn't see what was going on, but he knew from the sound of Itiel's voice that Gavin had something particularly unpleasant in mind.   "Hm, let me think about your suggestion... no." Gavin strode across the room after withdrawing the poker from the fire. Upon reaching the bed, he held the burning hot metal only an inch above Raquel's tensed back. "Can you feel that already, Pet?" he asked, shooting a smirk in Itiel's direction.   'Don't let him do it,' Raquel thought, sweat breaking out on his forehead. 'Oh God, don't touch me with that, please, don't toue!' e!' He swallowed hard. "...I can feel it..."   "Please don't do this to him!" cried Itiel, nearly succeeding in getting away from those that held him, but again, they proved too strong.   "I don't think even politeness is going to get me to stop now. Not when I'm having so much fun." All at once, he brought the poker up into the air and smashed it down with a blinding quickness on Raquel's back.   Raquel's hands closed on the sheets, his fingers digging into the fabric. His eyes bulged, his scream so fierce that it became nothing more than a hoarse hiss after a few seconds. He tossed his head, unable to believe that it was possible to feel that much pain. "ITIEL!" he shrieked, hot tears dripping down his face and onto the sheets. "ITIEL, MAKE IT STOP!"   "RAQUEL!" Itiel cried at the top of his lungs, pushing with all his might against the men. "No, stop it! Let go of me!" The servants were surprised at the new intensity in Itiel's struggles.   Gavin seemed lost in his own word of sadistic pleasure, slamming the poker again on Raquel's back. "Your screams are so delicious!"   The boy could only weep, the pain spreading through his body like wildfire. 'No more... please, God, someone, no more!'   'Don't let him get hurt more, don't let him get hurt more, don't let him get hurt more...' Itiel thought over and over, pulling with more strength than he ever thought he possessed. Then, all at once, he broke away and stumbled forward as his captors' grip finally gave. Not letting the surprise get to him for more than a second, he ran from the servants, tackling Gavin from behind and pushing him to the floor. He hissed as the hot poker fell from the orange-haired man's grip and landed on the back of his hand.   Gavin looked up in surprise at the man who had pinned him, face full of rage. "I loathe moral-ridden pricks like you, you know?"   Raquel fell into a heap on the bed, soaked with sweat and unmoving. He blinked rapidly, a few rattling breaths escaping his lungs. "Itiel..." he said softly.   Itiel didn't stop to listen to Gavin's words, socking him in the face repeatedly. "Stupid, disturbed, sadistic, perverted, insane son of a wild boar!" he yelled, with one hard punch for every word. After a long while, it was clear that the man was unconscious, and the servants had long since fled the room for fear of getting beaten just as badly. Their master didn't go down easily, and someone who could knock Gavin unconscious was not someone to be trifled with.   When everything was silent, Raquel's sobbing eased. His back felt like flames were consuming it, the heat unspeakably painful. His voice was thick from crying, barely audible. "You came for me..."   Itiel stood over the silent form of Gavin, breathing hard from the exhaustion he wasn't used to. He turned to Raquel, speaking to him softly. "Of course I did... I missed you," he admitted.   Raquel pulled at the ropes binding him to the bed, trying to reach out to Itiel. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have left. You must have been worried..." He paused. "I had dreams about it. Even when I was awake. You and Mira were looking for me, and I could hear you, and I yelled. You sounded so sad. But you never came." He closed his eyes, sighing. "I'm glad you're here this time."   "I'm curious though, and have been all the time I looked for you. Just why did you leave in the first place?" Itiel asked, stepping over Gavin to stand near the side of the bed.   "Caroline told me about Machiavellia. What she was to you," the boy explained. "That was when I knew... you weren't my master. He would never have done such a thing. I got upset... I had wanted to make you so happy! But I couldn't stay, knowing that I had intruded upon a perfect stranger's life. I was doing nothing but pestering a man that I thought to be my master."   "...Oh," said Itiel quietly, reaching down to untie the ropes binding Raquel. He was careful to slide them off, trying to avoid irritating the raw and bleeding spots on the boy's wrists. "Raquel, I know I'm not the man you thought I was, but still... I wouldn't mind it if you came back with me," he confessed, his cheeks growing inexplicably pink. "I was getting used to your company."   Raquel smiled weakly, reaching out until his fingers brushed Itiel's clothing. "...I was getting used to yours, too. What I mean is... I was getting to like you as Itiel, not as my master. Like how your voice got softer when you read to me. And how you still let me sleep with you when I was afraid, even when you barely knew me."   Itiel's face was graced with a rare smile, and he said, "You've been affecting me in the best of ways, I think. Before, I was always so self-centered and short with people, never wanting to go outside my own house and further my life at all. I think your caring has started to soften me, whether I like it or not."   Raquel's hands moved to Itiel's face, gently tracing the lines and curves of it, and then at the corners of his mouth. "You're a much softer person when you're smiling," he murmured, falling silent for a moment.   Itiel actually found himself chuckling, taking Raquel's hand in his own and beginning to help the boy up. "Thank you, but I think my priority right now is getting you out of here before that so-called "Master" of yours wakes up."   Raquel stumbled off the bed, clutching at Itiel's shoulders as he attempted to stand. He leaned against the man, trying to regain his balance. "Then, let's go back to your house... Let's go home."   "Are you sure you can walk that far?" asked Itiel, allowing the boy to lean against his shoulder.   "I don't know," he replied, taking a few shaky steps and having to grab on to Itiel so he wouldn't collapse. "My legs aren't working how I want them to..."   "That's no good," said Itiel, holding Raquel up. After a few moments of thinking, though, he had an idea. "Lay down on the bed again for a second, and I'll pick you up."   Raquel did as he was told, lying still on his back on the bed, even though it aggravated his burns.   "I'll be careful," Itiel said as he gently slipped his arms underneath Raquel and grunted as he lifted the boy up. Once in his arms, Itiel teetered a bit before gaining his balance and began walking toward the door.   "I trust you," Raquel replied, wrapping his arms around Itiel's neck and settling his head on shoushoulder. He gave the man a sincere smile. "Thank you, Itiel."   It was strange to hear Raquel call him anything other than "Master," but Itiel didn't mention it. "You're welcome, Raquel," he replied as they went out the door of the house, and headed in the direction of home.