“Well,” Cailan started, “it’s my understanding that the border is no mighty wall. That in most places, it's no more substantial than a farmer's fence. Some areas, I'm told, have no physical marker at all—just local knowledge of where the line lies." He paused, searching Liam's face. "I've never seen it myself, but... is that true?"

"I haven't seen the entire border," Liam admitted, "but of the parts I have seen, yes. That's true."

“And it is considered very dangerous to step past it, even briefly. Is… is that true? Is it really that dangerous?”

Liam's expression grew thoughtful, his eyes distant as if recalling something. "I've been told it is," he said slowly, choosing his words with care. "And from what I know—what I've learned and observed—I believe that to be true."

Cailan inhaled deeply, his chest expanding against Liam's. He could feel his heart racing, the fear of asking a "stupid" question warring with his curiosity. “Okay—and here’s the part that might be stupid. If it's so dangerous, and the border is so undefended, why are monster sightings so rare? Why don't they come over and attack people, like vampires do, or at least steal livestock? Is... is the answer obvious, and I'm just missing it?"

Liam's hand moved to smooth over Cailan's hair, the gentle touch soothing away some of his anxiety. "No, sweetheart," Liam murmured, his voice warm with affection and a hint of pride. "It's not stupid at all. It's a very astute question, and you're certainly not the first to wonder about it." His fingers continued their calming caress as he spoke. "Your teacher likely called it stupid because she didn't want to admit she didn't know the answer herself."

“Oh,” Cailan breathed. “What do you think the answer is?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through Liam's chest. "I'm not too proud to tell you that I don't know," he admitted. "And that's something important for you to understand, Cailan. Don't ever assume I know everything just because I'm your master. Not even when it comes to your own care and treatment."

Cailan murmured something that wasn’t quite words, obedience warring with training that told him that his master always knew best.

"I've had time to reflect on things," Liam said, each word carefully chosen. “About all of the different perspectives battling around in my head—my father’s, friends new and old, even my own.” His eyes sought Cailan's, intense and sincere. "When it comes to you, whose perspective should matter most? I've come to a conclusion that feels right: yours should be the most important."

“Mine?” Cailan asked, struggling to understand what Liam was even suggesting. “Don’t you think that a slave needs the guidance of his master?”

"You do," Liam agreed, his thumb brushing Cailan's cheek reassuringly. "But I can't do this—can't care for you properly—without your guidance as well. You're the only one who truly knows your own heart, Cailan."

“My heart is yours.”

"And perhaps my heart is yours too, in many ways," Liam mused. "You're the only person I've truly cared for in so long. You're the driving force behind everything I do, Cailan. But that devotion alone isn't always the answer to every question. Not for me, and not for you either. Don’t you remember when I thought the best thing for you was to leave you alone in a room and never touch you?”

“Mm,” Cailan murmured, his gaze dropping.

Liam's hand moved to Cailan's chin, gently tilting his face up. "We can agree now that I was wrong, can't we?" His eyes searched Cailan's, seeking understanding. "Maybe you can even see that if you had felt more confident in telling me what you needed, we could have avoided some of the pain."

Cailan remained still, silent.

"Cailan," Liam said, his voice taking on a firmer edge. 

"I—" Cailan swallowed hard. "Yes?"

Liam's expression softened, and he rubbed soothing circles on Cailan's back. "We'll work on it," he assured him, his voice gentler now. “I don't mean to upset you. Think of it as us becoming closer, talking more openly. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Cailan nodded.

"Good.” Liam took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against Cailan's. "And Cailan, I need to apologise. You're not a child. I regret calling you that." His fingers traced absent patterns on Cailan's skin as he spoke, his gaze distant. "It was just... the only way I could express how I felt when my father called me into his study and handed me a frightened thirteen-year-old, telling me to 'use' you to satisfy my urges."

A broken chuckle escaped Liam's lips. "He'd only caught me kissing a boy, but it felt like he wanted me to..." Liam's eyes squeezed shut, his body tensing. Cailan instinctively pressed closer, offering silent comfort.

Liam's eyes opened, refocusing on Cailan. "Anyway, I stand by the sentiment behind it, but I know I wouldn't have liked being called a child at thirteen. It wasn't fair to you."

Cailan chewed his lip as he considered how to word his thoughts in a way that wouldn’t come across as disagreeable. “I… I didn’t like being thought of in that way at first, but I came to appreciate it. I think you were right. That I’m not ready to be…”

“No, you’re not,” Liam agreed. “You’re not a child, but you’re not a man yet either. And you may be a mage—a Companion—but I know you as well as I know anyone else, and I don’t think that makes you so very different from a human.”

“I don’t know what it makes me,” Cailan admitted. “I don’t know if I can guide you, Liam, because—I don’t know." His eyes, wide and searching, met Liam's. "I only know what I've been taught, and maybe not all of that is correct. Or—or at least not what you would want?" He swallowed hard, his voice dropping even lower. "I'm not sure how anyone decides what is actually correct."

Liam's lips curved into a tender smile. "You see?" he said softly, his hand moving to cup Cailan's cheek. "That's exactly what I've struggled with as well. I don't expect you to have all the answers, Cailan. But I can't figure it out all on my own either."

Cailan leaned into Liam's touch, drawing strength from the contact. He nodded, a small but determined motion. "I'll try to help you in any way that I can," he promised, his voice gaining strength. "Always."

Liam's lips curved into a gentle smile. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Cailan's head. "And I will always try to help you," he murmured against Cailan's hair.

Cailan let out a deep, contented sigh, his body melting against the warmth of Liam's chest. Liam's fingers resumed their gentle exploration of his hair, the soothing rhythm relaxing the tension out of Cailan’s body. He fought to keep his eyes open, captivated by the sight of Liam lifting strands of his golden locks, watching them shimmer in the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. Each blink became longer, heavier, as Cailan struggled against the tide of exhaustion. 

As Cailan finally surrendered to sleep, his last fleeting thought was of gratitude—for Liam's unwavering care, for this moment of peace, and for the promise of a future together. The gentle rise and fall of Liam's chest became Cailan's lullaby as he drifted off, safe and cherished in his master's arms.

#

The weekend passed in a hazy cocoon of warmth and comfort. Liam remained steadfastly by Cailan's side, leaving only for the most essential tasks. Though it must have been tedious for him, Liam's presence was a constant balm to Cailan's frayed nerves.

With each passing hour, each shared meal, each gentle touch, Cailan felt his inner turmoil slowly settling. By Monday morning, when the time came for Liam to return to the military camp, Cailan managed a brave smile, assuring Liam he would be fine.

But as the door clicked shut behind Liam, Cailan's composure wavered. He collapsed onto the bed, his face pressed into the pillow that still held Liam's scent. His body trembled uncontrollably, not from physical need this time, but from a deep-seated fear that clawed at his insides.

The memory of his last abandonment loomed large in his mind, a yawning abyss he had nearly tumbled into, never to return. Panic surged through him in waves, each one threatening to pull him under. He could have pleaded with Liam to stay, to delay the inevitable for just one more day. But Cailan knew that would solve nothing in the long run.

Instead, he bit down on his knuckles to stifle his sobs, tasting the salt of his tears. His body shook with the effort of containing his fear. This terror was a beast he had to face head-on if he ever hoped to conquer it.

As Cailan lay there, fighting against the tide of his own emotions, he clung to the memory of Liam's touch, his words, his promise. It was a lifeline in the storm of his fear, a reminder that this time, things were different. This time, Liam would come back. All Cailan had to do was be brave enough to wait.

When Liam returned, Cailan's carefully constructed facade of calm crumbled at the first brush of skin against skin. He threw himself into Liam's arms, clinging desperately as if trying to meld their bodies together. His fingers dug into Liam's back, his face buried in the crook of Liam's neck, inhaling the familiar scent mingled with sweat and dust from the day's training. Though his heart raced and his breath came in quick, shallow gasps, Cailan didn't cry. He didn't beg or plead. He was determined to be strong, to be what Liam needed—a good boy.

Despite his exhaustion, Liam patiently coaxed Cailan to eat. Cailan accepted each morsel until he could take no more, just as he had at every meal since their reunion. There was no lingering wakefulness that night. Almost the instant they were curled up in bed together, Liam was snoring quietly by Cailan's side.

As days passed, solitude became more bearable, though never easy. Each morning alone was a battle, but one that Cailan fought with increasing strength. The weekends became islands of joy in a sea of loneliness. In the nearby town, surrounded by the bustle of everyday life, Liam's eyes sparkled as he presented Cailan with secondhand books and p

uzzles. They weren’t as fancy or expensive as the gifts Liam had showered him with while under his father’s roof, but Cailan treasured them no less.

Cailan's world was still largely confined to a single room, his involvement in Liam's new life limited. Yet, he couldn't help but notice the change in his master. Liam's steps were lighter, his smiles more frequent and genuine. A new energy radiated from him, as if he'd found his purpose.

Cailan’s own circumstances might not have changed dramatically, but Liam's happiness was a balm to his soul. In the quiet moments of his solitude, Cailan found comfort in the knowledge that his master was thriving. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. For now, it was everything.