Souvenirs From Dead Worlds

Kias felt better once he had two feet on soft, reassuringly normal earth and no walls confining him. Sam looked so at home when he was in the shuttle, his hands moving over the controls with confident ease, but Kias didn’t think he’d ever get used to the strange piece of machinery that seemed almost like a living thing at times.

The shuttle was hidden above them now, hovering just above the lush, broad limbed trees. According to Sam it was, anyway. Somehow, it was completely invisible. Kias remembered how it had suddenly appeared in front of him and Sam when they'd been running from the drones when they'd first met. He'd assumed, then, that it had come out of nowhere, but he realised now that it must simply have been invisible like it was now.

Sam tossed Kias a pouch filled with coins as they began picking a path through the undergrowth, and although Kias was unsure what they were worth he was fairly sure the answer was 'a lot'. Reluctantly, Kias handed the bag back to Sam. It was Sam who was playing the role of the wealthy merchant. Kias was to be his servant. To be honest, though, Kias didn't mind at all. As long as they were just pretending, it sounded like it would be fun. Having never had much in the way of money of his own, however, looking at all those shiny coins had been kind of intoxicating.

The city came into view as they cleared the woods, though with the tall stone wall surrounding it they could see only the tops of buildings. It was smaller than Kias’ city had been but appeared to be more densely packed.

"We're going to have to scope out somewhere big enough to land the shuttle inside the city," Sam said as they headed across the grass towards the road that lead into the city. "I don't want to be having to worry about getting out quickly with that wall in the way."

Although there were differences in the architecture already evident from the little they could see, there were aspects of familiarity to Kias which hadn't been present on Sam’s world. As they approached the dirt road leading into the city, Kias breathed in the smell of dust and animals. Life had never been kind to Kias on his own world, but somehow being reminded of it was still a comfort. At least this made sense to him.

#

As they approached the city gates one of the guards called out a greeting. "Walking today?"

It took Sam a moment to muddle out his languages, and then another to pull himself into character. Sam squared his shoulders and stood up taller.

"I should hope I don't look like I've spent all day walking!" Sam responded with good cheer.

"Ha! I don't suppose you do." The man had tanned and freckled skin and ill-fitting armour which clinked together when he moved.

"The boy is from the countryside," Sam explained with a glance at Kias, improvising his story. "I felt he required some time out of the carriage before being confined to the walls of a city."

There were two holes in Sam's story that he could see. The first and most obvious one was that there had been no carriage, and would be no carriage. The second was that Kias was pretty damn pale, calling into question the whole country boy thing. If the guard picked up on either of those things, though, he didn't comment.

Instead he asked, "You've an interesting accent. Where're you from?"

The guard didn't sound suspicious, which was reassuring. Sam was used to this question, as while he could learn languages with ease he was fairly sure any attempts he made at mimicking local accents would be hilarious at best.

Sam answered with his standard response of, "Everywhere, I've travelled all my life." As he walked past, he inclined his head to the guard. "Good day."

Inside the city walls things were much the same as many of the other cities Sam had been in. The buildings were made of wood and stone and the road that ran through it was paved but so covered in dirt that it was hard to tell. A clucking chicken dashed out in front of them and a child followed, trying to catch the errant bird.

"We should get you some new clothes," Sam muttered to Kias as they paused to look around.

Kias looked down at his clothes, frowning in confusion. "Why?"

"Because wool is horrible and itchy." Sam's skin prickled at the thought of poorly processed wool against it. Nobody deserved that. "Besides, we both presently have a total of one outfit each. We could both do with some more clothes."

"Your people are rather obsessed with cleanliness," Kias commented. "Washing and changing clothes every day, even after doing nothing in them but sitting around in a perfectly clean room. I'm a little worried about how often you'll feel the need to change your clothes in a place with actual dirt."

"I sure am looking forward to you being my submissive little servant boy. You have no idea."

They continued down the main road running through the city. Wide access would be needed for people bringing things into the markets, so down the main road was the most logical direction to head in if they wanted to buy clothes.

"Oh, I'll be the best servant boy," Kias said cheerfully. "So good it'll make you uncomfortable."

Sam had to concede that that was a definite possibility, as even the idea of it already unsettled him. Still, as long as Kias was happy with it, Sam felt it was more like a game between them than anything.

Kias quieted as they entered the marketplace, falling back a step behind Sam and back into his role.

The marketplace was busy and bustling, the sounds of people and the occasional chicken or goat creating a sense of chaos. Immediately apparent to Sam was that this marketplace would not be a suitable place for him to land his shuttle in an emergency. The market stalls wound in between buildings on streets that were not wide enough to make a landing. He would have to find somewhere else.

In the buildings lining the market streets were shops selling a range of goods and it was one of these, a rather upscale looking store, that Sam selected for their clothes shopping. A local tailor would have both a wider range and a higher quality of clothes than the travelling merchants.

#

Kias immediately felt out of place in the nice shop, half expecting someone to appear and order him out the second he walked through the door. Instead, the man who came out from the back of the store greeted Sam with warm respect, ignoring Kias entirely. Sam gave Kias a reassuring smile when the man turned his back.

The interior of the store was mostly out of street view, the windows that provided lighting set high on the dark, polished wooden walls for privacy. It was clean and quiet in the store, unlike the street outside. Kias would have felt more at home in the bustle of people. Before Kias had been locked away and forced to service men, he’d learned to move through the thickest crowds with ease and take what he needed to survive from those who didn’t guard it closely enough. There was a part of Kias that could have easily slipped right back into that life. It was still what he thought of when he visualised freedom.

With the help of the shop keep it didn't take long for Sam to select a few articles of clothing. Kias was beginning to become hopeful that they would leave soon when the shop keep pulled out a tape measure and started taking Sam's measurements. Of course a few articles of clothing wouldn't be adequate for Sam. Sam had even bought Kias enough clothes to last ten days without wearing any item twice back on Sam's world, and Sam had had even more clothes than that. Kias was caught off guard when Sam said his name and gestured for him to come over.

Kias frowned at Sam as the shop keep started taking his measurements. He didn't like the strange man touching him, but the shop keep didn't appear to share in his objections. Frankly this surprised Kias, and he wondered what Sam had told the man. Where Kias was from it would have been blatantly obvious that Kias was not of a class that ought to have clothes made for them by a skilled tailor. Any suggestion that they ought to be would have been an insult to the craftsmanship, as it would have implied that the clothes were not finely made enough to be too good for him.

After Kias had been measured, Sam selected a few of the articles of clothing he'd picked out and handed them to Kias, then told him to change behind a screen in the corner of the room. Kias wasn't sure for whose sake the privacy was, but he was glad of it since he'd hidden the stupid scar lotion in his clothing and would need to transfer it. His two weeks of using it weren't yet up, so he'd brought it with him.

The clothes Sam had given him, while not made of fine silk like the ones Sam had chosen for himself, were still much, much nicer than Kias ought to have had within the role he was playing. The pants were made of cotton or some similar fabric, dyed a dark brown, and fit Kias snugly. They laced up at the front and had a pocket over each of his hips, the edges of which were embroidered with silver thread.

The shirt he was given was white and also appeared to be made of cotton, but it was somewhat more elaborate than the pants. It was quite loose, but by design rather than ill-fit, and had lace decorating it around the cuffs and the collar and lining either side of the buttons that fell down the centre of the shirt. The buttons were silver and had floral designs delicately imprinted on them. Kias tucked the tube of lotion into the back of his new pants and let the loose shirt cover it.

Kias was fairly sure that regular servants weren't dressed like this on any world, but the shop keep showed no signs he found it odd. After Kias had finished changing, the shop keep looked at him with consideration for several long moments before nodding in approval, looking pleased. He said something to Sam and, after Sam nodded his agreement to whatever the man had said, the shop keep headed to sort through some items on one of the shelves. When the man turned his back, Sam gave Kias a reassuring smile. Kias gave Sam a look of exasperation.

The shop keep returned with a white silk ribbon with silver beads sewn into it, and poked Kias gently until he turned around. The plain leather tie keeping Kias' hair in place was removed and his hair tied up again with the beaded ribbon.

The shop keep had suggested a decorative accessory which served no purpose other than to improve Kias' appearance. Kias was starting to get an idea of what was going through the shop keep's head. Sam's head... well, that was another story. He had no idea what Sam was thinking.

#

Sam hadn't intended to dress Kias quite so well, but the store they'd visited had been very much targeted at the upper classes. The shopkeeper hadn't seemed surprised or offended by the idea of dressing Kias nicely, at least not after Sam had explained that Kias had come from a poor family and so had only very low quality clothes, so Sam had gone with it. If it wasn't odd to dress servants nicely here, Sam figured he might as well do so. It must have been considered a sign of wealth, Sam guessed, for servants to be well clothed.

"Here," Sam said after they'd left the clothing store, handing Kias several of the bronze coins. "Get us something to eat. You should be able to get your point across through gesturing."

Kias hesitated for a moment as though he wanted to say something, but ultimately just nodded. "All right."

Sam could tell Kias had something on his mind, but figured it would be best to leave it until they reached the inn the shopkeeper had given him directions to. But Sam hadn't eaten all day, and Kias seemed to exist in a perpetual state of hunger, so before that had to come food. Sam trusted Kias to choose something good.

Sam shut his eyes and leant back against one of the buildings lining the street, listening to the voices of the people around him. Sam had blundered over his words at several points in the conversation with the shopkeeper. The man had been very forgiving and not at all suspicious, but Sam still didn't like it. Because of his implant, Sam's skill with this language would improve very quickly. Sam's only concern was that if he started at a lower level of skill it would be far more apparent when his skill with the language improved unreasonably quickly.

Kias had already eaten half of his food, some kind of chicken and vegetable pastry thing, by the time he returned. Sam took his own food from Kias and took a bite. It was surprisingly good. Perhaps he should let Kias pick all their meals.

"What do you say to an afternoon nap at a fancy inn?" Sam asked.

Whatever Kias said in response was made incomprehensible by all the food crammed into his mouth.

#

At first, Kias' intention had been to give Sam the leftover money back as soon as he had hands free to pry the coins out of his pocket. As his pants were tight and the material not terribly stretchy, it took a bit of finagling to get things in and out of the pockets. By the time Kias had finished eating, though, he'd forgotten about the coins. Until, that was, he saw a homeless woman and her child sitting on the corner of the street on a blanket, begging for money.

It wasn't breaking character, Kias decided as he dug the coins out of his pocket and then tossed them in front of the homeless lady. He was just altering his character slightly. The lady said something to him, and her smile suggested they had been words of gratitude.

"Remember, don't get attached," Sam reminded Kias after watching the display. "They're going to die soon."

"That doesn't mean they shouldn't get to eat tonight."

Sam considered that for a moment, and then slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. They might as well enjoy their final days.”

They continued walking in silence for a while longer, and then Sam paused at the corner of the street, glancing in each direction. "This would be way easier if I could read the street signs..."

#

It took them almost getting lost twice before they finally found the inn Sam had been given directions to. He probably should have just given up a half hour ago and chosen another inn, but Sam could be stubborn once he had his mind set on something.

Architecture around this part of the city used a lot of wood, and the inn was no exception. Inside the inn the walls and ceiling were made of unpainted polished wood. The floors, too, were made of the same kind of wood, but a roll of surprisingly clean blue carpet was laid out over it leading up to a desk. Behind the desk sat a female servant, and the smile she gave them as they approached was timid but welcoming.

"A room for two for a week, please," Sam said, sliding one of the gold coins across the desk to her. It wasn't until her eyes went wide that Sam realised that a gold coin was likely far, far too much.

"Ah... I'm sorry, sir, I... I don't think I have enough change for..."

Sam took the gold coin back and started sorting out silver ones. He stopped when she took five of them and left the rest. It was likely to his benefit to have displayed his wealth, anyway. Servants could be awful gossips, and people knowing he was rich and therefore powerful and worth socialising with would be to Sam's advantage.

"Yours is room number six, sir." She slid a small silver key across the table to Sam. "Let me know if it's not to your liking. The baths are at the end of that hallway there, and the lounge and tavern are down that way." She pointed to each.

"And where is my room?"

"Through that doorway, and then up the stairs and to the left, sir."

"Which number down will be my room?" Sam smiled, trying his best not to look at all annoyed. The girl was starting to look nervous about failing to answer his question correctly.

"The rooms are numbered, sir. It will be the one with a number six on the door," she explained unhelpfully. Sam's implant helped him speak languages but not read them, something he preferred not to tip people off to. For someone wealthy a certain degree of education was expected, even if the language they were speaking was clearly not his native one.

"That’s not what I asked."

"Ah, I’m sorry, sir!" Her face went pale and her shoulders tensed up. "It will be the third room down on the left."

Sam placed three of the small copper coins on the desk in front of her. "Thank you."

The stairs leading up to the guest rooms were made of wood just like everything else in the inn, but they had more of the blue carpet down the middle of them and the bannisters were elaborately carved. Sam led Kias up them.

To Sam's relief, the key turned easily in the lock of the third door on the left.

The architecture and decorating were beautiful. Around the windows and doorway the wood was skilfully carved with decorative curls and patterns. There was a finely made chest of drawers with a vase of fresh flowers sitting on top. The frame of the bed was thick and heavy, carved from dark wood, and the blankets on top were dyed a bright blue and embroidered with flowers. The bed. Singular, because there was only one of them.

Sam let out an annoyed huff. "I told her a room for two."

"Oh, she heard you," Kias said, flopping down onto the large bed.

It took Sam a moment to process what Kias seemed to find obvious. Sam clearly had enough money to pay for a room with more than one bed, and they surely had some. If they'd simply had none available at the time, she would have told him and asked if that was okay. "She thought we wanted to share a bed."

Kias smiled up at him. "You're rather naive."

Sam kicked one of the legs Kias had flopped over the end of the bed. "Am not."

"You are." Kias kicked back. "You really think people routinely pretty their regular servants up like this?" Kias flung his arms wide to indicate his clothing.

"A lot of that was at the suggestion of the shopkeeper..." A sinking feeling was beginning to develop in Sam's stomach. "I mean, I guess I did suggest I wanted you to be comfortable... and I may have indicated that I would favour clothes that suited you and fit you well..." Sam was starting to get a hunch as to just what he'd done. "Crap."

"And then you had me measured specially for new clothes." Kias pulled the silk tie out of his hair and tossed it on the bed. "And approved decorative accessories."

"Shit." Sam slapped a hand over his eyes in frustration. "I'm sorry, Kias. That was really stupid of me."

Kias didn't looked particularly upset, though. "I thought you were supposed to be some kind of expert at fitting in in these places."

"I'm not used to working with someone else," Sam explained. "And I'm not used to having more than casual involvement with servants. I forgot that people tend to treat their servants more as tools than companions. Generally, I prefer to find positive things to remember a society by. How servants are treated is usually anything but."

"At least the bed's plenty big enough for two." Kias patted the spot next to him on the bed, but Sam stayed where he was.

"We can probably undo this... maybe." Sam frowned and stared at where Kias' shirt had ridden up, exposing a sliver of his stomach, while he thought. "Either explain that it's not what people think, and we're just weird. Or dress you up different and find somewhere else to stay, and hope nobody who's already seen us sees us again and remembers us..."

"Or we can just go along with it."

Sam frowned, giving Kias a dubious look.

Kias shrugged, his shoulders rubbing against the bed spread. "It's not like we'd actually have to do anything, because that would be expected to be private. It would just allow us to not have to force so much distance and formality between us. It would make things easier."

"And it would make people think I pay a servant to let me fuck him."

Kias rolled his eyes, something Sam suspected Kias had picked up from him since as far as Sam was aware it wasn't something done in Kias' own culture. "You're being an actor, for a limited period of time. Do you really care what people think of you?"

Sam fisted his hands. "I care what people think of you."

Kias smiled at that. "Touching. People have thought worse of me, though, and been far more correct."

Sam stepped closer, his knees pressing against the tall frame of the bed. "Maybe I don't want people to think similar things of you again."

Kias reached out and grabbed Sam's wrist. "Sam, are you making choices for me again based on what you think is for my own good?"

Kias didn't seem angry, at least not yet. Just vaguely amused.

Sam let himself be pulled forward onto the bed. "This is the role you'd prefer?"

Kias pulled Sam up next to him and pushed him down onto his back, then laid his head down on Sam's chest. "Mmhm."

"Okay then." Sam sighed deeply, his hand reflexively going to tangle in Kias' hair. "All right."