It's A Slaves' World - Chapter 14

Aidens POV

Leading Kiara down to the pond where our bench sat waiting for us to return for so many years, I couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever be mine like she once was. She still seems oblivious. She let me kiss me and she is letting me lead her by the arm, but it doesn’t mean the same to her as it does to me. I see us approaching the bench as a homecoming. She sees it as yet another master trying to bed her, I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. It is heartening to know that she trusts me, or at the very least is trying to trust me, but at the same time that vacant look she is giving the bench, that represents so much in my memories, is heart breaking.

With a gentle hand on my arm, she let me guide her down the winding path, slowly as she was still uncertain on her feet. With a look of wonder in her eyes I watched her take in the garden that she had once loved so much as if it were her first time laying eyes on it. I helped her lower herself onto the bench and sat next to her at a safe distance. She thinks of me as her master so she wont refuse me if I push myself on her, but I want Kiara to welcome me with open arms and not just sit stiffly when I wrap my arms around her. Plus if and when she remembers who she is, she would probably beat me with her sandal. The spunky girl that had been so much of my heart would return once she knew she was allowed back, in place of this timid and silent girl. The tender protectiveness I feel for Kiara is overwhelming, I wish I could take away everything that she had to endure.

"Do you recognize this place?" My words seemed too loud in the silence, but they had to be asked. With half closed eyes she nodded her head and my heart soared. She remembers!

"I saw this pond from the back of the wagon when I was brought to your house sir." Her quiet words were barely above a whisper and I could see her flush with embarrassment at our closeness.

"And you remembered it then too?" Why wouldn’t she say something sooner? Why would she run from me and refuse to admit where she learned that song?

"Sir that is where I remember this from." She looked slightly confused at my line of questioning but her words grew slightly more confident and could be heard clearly if not quietly.

"Nothing before that?" She shook her heard and I knew I was pulling at straws, if nothing has triggered her memory yet than this wasn’t going to be easy. "Do you ever remember me before you arrived here? What is the earliest thing you remember?" How can she be so close yet so far away?

"Sir. I do not recall having met anyone as kind as you before. I can remember being seven years old and working a few days away from here. I wasn’t any better at serving dinner then either." I couldn’t help but smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. She shifted uneasily under my heavy stare and questions. It took all my self control not too pull her into me and refuse to let her go. I settled for placing my hand gently on hers for a moment, the contact renewing my patience. She won’t be gone ever again so there is time.

"Fourteen years ago you lived at this manor." There nothing too shocking in that statement, her mouth was tight and her eyes uncertain but still open to my words, "We have sat here together before. On a very similar day to today too." I smiled at her and tried to will her to remember. The slightest twinge of pain flashed trough her eyes and she bit her lip to maintain some composure. "Are you alright?" I was on my knees in front of her trying to get her to look at me again but she had clamped her eyes firmly shut and was biting her lip hard enough I thought I saw a drop of blood starting to appear. "Kiara look at me!" My words came out far harsher than intended but her eyes flew open with bewilderment pouring from her. "Are you alright? You should be back in bed." I tried to take her hand but she sat rigid in place, unwilling to move.

"Why did you call me that?" The venom in her voice was enough to make me step back. "I do not have a name!" She was half screaming at me in hysterics but sat unmoving like a statue in place. "I am a lowly slave, I will never have a name!" Unsure if answering her would provoke more violence, I stood looking at the ashen faced fury.

After several minutes of staring at each other I figured it might be safe to say something, "I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you." I was back peddling now and I knew it, but having her angry with me wasn’t going to help my cause. I stood still for another few minutes and watched some color return to her face before I stepped back towards her. "Please. Let me take you back inside." It was painful to see her so angry, it was painful to she her looking lost, but worst of all it tore at my heart when she had reacted so violently to her name. Who ever had broken her spirit had done their job well, she had obviously tried to keep her name but they had managed to turn her name into an untold horror and anger. They had removed her past life from her and done it well enough that she was now protecting their work. I gently pulled her hand to my arm and she rose with indescribable amounts of dignity, holding her chin high and managing to look down her nose at me despite being several inches shorter than myself. She maintained her anger for several more minutes as we walked before I felt the tension draining out of her hand. I tried to make eye contact with her but she had turned inside herself where she apparently intended to remain.

Cook met us at the front door with a smile despite the questioning look in her eyes at Kiara’s apparent behavior. "What are you doing out and about child?" Cooks gentle words and tender hands took Kiara from my arm. Leading Kiara away from me, she looked back over her shoulder with a look that told me I would be explaining this to her in a few minutes.
…

"Violently?" I could hear the doubt in Cooks voice as she repeated the word back to me, "Kiara doesn’t have an aggressive bone in her body. How can you describe her as violent?"

I would agree whole heartedly with Cook had I not just witnessed it myself. Violent was very much the word to describe her reaction to her name and her eyes had looked ready to shoot daggers at me. "I am starting to wonder if Kiara will ever come back. That was not Kiara in the garden earlier and maybe it has been too long to find her." I wanted to deny my own words as much as I knew Cook did but we both shared the same worried and knowing look. People that endure terrible hardships, like during wars, are forever changed. I remember my own uncle that had returned from the war overseas and none of his family recognized him in the slightest. It was like a stranger had taken possession of his body, a stranger at the dinner table, a stranger in his marriage bed. Eventually everyone got used to ignoring the elephant in the room but I can’t do that with Kiara. I love her with all my heart, to have her live here and work as a slave, all the while knowing that she should be in my arms would be a torture comparable to what she endured. I looked up at Cook and felt guilty for getting her hopes up. "We may still not get our beloved Kiara back."

"All we can do is try. Gently and constantly. She may never be the same as she was but she can be a person again. She could have a name." I could feel the passion in her words and I knew then what it cost the slaves to not have an identity. Cook, loved and honored in my heart, must feel resentment despite her love over being lower than an animal to most people as even animals are given names.

"Cook. Forgive me for what we have done to your culture." They had once had a culture, never given a chance to prosper once my kind had discovered this land.

"Aiden you are not to blame for what has been done. No one in your family has ever been anything but kind to us and treated us as humans even if not your equals. There is not one slave in this house that blames you for our lot in life." A gentle hand touched mine and we sat together in silence, a new respect for each other found.

Kiaras POV

I lay curled in a ball in bed with the blankets pulled over my head. Ignoring the pain from laying on my side I pulled my knees tighter to my chest. I lay waiting for Aiden to come and punish me for my stupidity earlier. How could I yell at him? How could I blame him for the abuse that I endured at others hands? Why would he try and give me a name? Every slave knows better than to hope for a name, even in private no one dare to utter a name out of fear that one of the other slaves tell on you and even if you come up with a name to call yourself, a name can only endure for so long if it never gets spoken out loud. Kiara, that is what he had called me. He had sounded so genuinely worried about me too. How could I be so stupid! If he wants me as a mistress than I should only be so lucky. If he wants to call me by a name than that would be a dream come true. Just not that name. That had been the name I tried to have years ago as a foolish child.

A small rustling sound coming from the other side of my blanket, somewhere in the room, brought me out of my self pitying. Peaking out of under the covers like a child scared of the dark, I found Aiden standing in the door way. Unsure if I should throw myself at his feet and beg forgiveness I stayed as still as I could manage, hoping he would think I was sleeping.

"I know you’re not sleeping." I opened my eyes again to find him standing right beside the bed looking down at me. My stomach sunk further down, pulling me under the blankets again with it. He looks terribly sad. I caused that. "You do know that the blanket wont hid you forever. You will have to talk to me again sometime." Silence filled the room as he stood next to me, waiting for my apology. "I would prefer to talk to you know if you don’t mind." There was no anger in his voice otherwise I would never have worked up the courage to peak out again at him. Once he saw me resurface from my blanketed hide away, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Is this his way of inviting himself into my bed? "Why did that name upset you so much?" He didn’t look at me when he spoke this time, instead he stared ahead at the white wall. I cringed back once I processed his words. He wants to talk. Actually talk, no hidden meaning behind his words and I so wished there were.

We sat silently next to each other, as he waited for an answer. Unmoving and unspeaking, his purpose was still clear, he wanted an explanation and one I couldn’t provide. I gently reached out my hand to his which sat clenched on his thigh. Not looking, he gently took my hand in his. "That was your name you know." He squeezed my hand lightly and I knew that I had offended him. "You used to belong here. Ask Cook if you like, she remembers you too." I felt so utterly lost. I had a name once. "You weren’t always a slave either." I could hardly breathe as I took in his gentle words. He is trying to give me hope, is trying to give me a dream, but I don’t know if I can handle having them only to lose them again.

"Sir…" I don’t know what to say. Could any of this be true? But why would he lie. "I may have one time been this ‘Kiara’, but for the last 15 years of my life I know I have been a slave." My words stuck in my throat as I realized I was destroying his hope. "That’s not something that can be forgotten. I am now as much a slave as any other slave in your house. I can never be who you remember I once was." He obviously cared deeply for this girl, but why does he think it is me?

"I promise you that you were Kiara and I understand entirely that you may never be again, but I would like to risk getting to know who you are now in her place if you are willing." He has placed the last of his hope on me being something he has dreamed about for years.

I pulled myself out of under the covers and moved behind him still sitting on the corner of the bed. I wrapped my arms around him in the most affectionate hug I could manage. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and chest, pinning his arms lightly to his side. I rested my chin on his shoulder and stayed like that for a moment before letting him pull me around to his front. He settled me gently on his lap in a way oddly reminiscent of those few moments at Treyton’s manor. "I may disappoint you." I couldn’t help but dread what would happen if he didn’t like me. I would be back to being nameless and disposable. I dropped my chin and rested my forehead against his chest, ignoring the pain of my bruises, wrapping my arms around him in an attempt to show him I would try. I am not educated or graceful or talented or poised. I am pretty enough to be sure but that is what they look for in slaves not in wives.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight to his chest. "I am not looking for someone to please me. There are enough women out there willing to forget themselves in an attempt to get a rich husband. I want you to be who you are so I have someone to love for who they are." His chin rested lightly on top of my head and we sat like that until I dosed off, falling into dreams of being held and loved.

*** This story is working its way to its happy ending but I'm not sure how much longer it will actually be for me to get it there. It would be smart of me to write the story before I start posting it so that I can tell you whats going to happen or how long it will be but I'm kinda lazy and impatient so I do it bit by bit. It shouldn't be much longer. I just need to tie things up and make it a romantic happy ever after like we all want it to be. Thank you all so much for commenting. Any ideas you think the story cant live without? you should tell me what you think. THANK YOU ALL AGAIN!!! ***