Titus lost track of the hours as they wiled the morning away at what he could only describe as the impromptu fair. As time progressed, more and more people came with additional food, clothes, and even some games and toys were thrown into the mix. Growing up, he'd always been taught that he was despised because he was a half-blood, but in that moment all those people didn't actually seem to care. Instead of a menace to society, they treated all of the children as just that, children. He wasn't sure what to make of it.
"You going to stand there glaring all day?" Rathus questioned. He was lounging against the tree, looking more relaxed than Titus had seen him in a while.
"I'd rather get out of here," Titus replied, glancing around nervously. "I feel exposed out here. What if Vickie show's up? What if it's a set up?"
"There's too many soldiers present," Rathus replied. "If Vickie's lurking around here, she'll stick to watching from afar, especially with Trixie nearby. Besides, if they wanted us dead or sold, they wouldn't bother cleaning and feeding us first."
Even though he said as much, Titus knew Rathus, though far calmer about the situation, was on guard. He would frequently survey the others, taking note of who was where what they were doing. Safe or not, old habits die hard.
"Still wish we could just get going," Titus grumbled.
"We'll go in good time," Rathus sighed. "Let the others enjoy themselves. They don't get to often."
"I know," Titus frowned. He looked away, unsure what to do.
They stood there awkwardly for some time, unsure what to say to each other. At Jacoby's insistence, they had gotten cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes and even eaten a fair amount. Now that there were no more orders to follow, and time to kill, Titus was at a loss.
"What's eating you?" Rathus questioned. His attention was focused on something in his lap, likely his latest project. Based on the way he was assembling the delicate cogs and springs, he was likely working on another music box.
"Nothing," Titus huffed.
"Sure," Rathus grunted, knowing full well that Titus was lying. He could never fool Rathus, but at the same time he didn't really feel like talking at the moment.
Too much was changing too fast, and it felt like everything he knew had been a lie. Together, they'd grown up under the assumption that they'd make it on their own, screw the odds. Now, they were dependent on the mercy of a virtual stranger with enough money and power to crush them if they made the wrong move. If that weren't bad enough, Trixie, who was off limits to all but paying customers, was falling in love with some rich hot shot. Then there was Rathus, his kind and gentle older brother who wouldn't hurt a fly. Rathus, whose hands gently tucked the young ones into bed at night, who made some of the most beautiful toys and boxes Titus had ever seen. Rathus, the gentle giant, had murdered a woman in front of him and didn't even seem troubled by the fact.
"I'm fine," Titus insisted.
"Obviously," Rathus replied.
"I said I'm fine!" Titus snapped, temper flaring. "Would you stop doing that?"
"Doing what?" Rathus smiled to himself, which really agitated Titus.
"That!" he exclaimed. "That right there!"
"I'm not doing anything though," Rathus pointed out. "You said you're fine, and I agreed with you."
"No you didn't!" Titus growled. "Stop making me look bad!"
"I'm not making you look like anything," Rathus stated. "If you look stupid, that's on you."
"Whatever!" Titus threw his hands up and started marching back towards the carriages. "I can't stand you right now!"
"First honest thing you've said all day," Rathus grumbled, but Titus ignored him. He needed some space.
He stopped short of the carriage he'd ridden in with Lorelei, Dalek and five younger children. None of his travel buddies were anywhere nearby, Lorelei had led them off into the maze of tents to have fun, or whatever. Normally, he would've traveled with Trixie and Rathus, but at the moment he didn't really want to be near either.
"Oh, did you need something?" One of the carriage drivers questioned, noticing him.
"No," Titus replied. "It's just quiet over here."
"We should be setting out again soon," The coachman nodded. "Enjoy that quiet while you can. Once we leave, we will be on the road until about nightfall."
"Good to know," Titus nodded.
As predicted, not long after, Jacoby and Orval began rounding up the others and herded them back into the carriages. Titus made a point of ignoring Rathus and Trixie as they entered their respective carriages with their assigned children in tow. He had a good enough excuse, looking after his own group, though Lorelei was managing them well enough.
The next few hours were thankfully dull. Lorelei played some kind of I spy game with the kids while he and Dalek stared out opposite windows, brooding. What was on the drow's mind was any ones guess, though to a degree Titus hoped he had similar reservations about what was happening.
Several times during the long voyage, Titus entertained himself but envisioning himself punching Emerick in the face repeatedly. He doubted Trixie would find him all that attractive with a broken nose and missing teeth. Thinking of his charismatic and easy-going personality, Titus wanted to punch him even harder. It wasn't fair to be born with wealth, good looks, the right to conquer, and a natural ability to lead. What chance did anyone else stand against someone like that? He was so busy stewing over events far out of his control, Titus didn't realize he'd drifted off to sleep.
****
Titus woke the next morning completely disoriented. Sun was shining into his eyes, so it was much later than he normally slept in. Groaning, he sat up, and was further confused to find himself in a bed in a room he'd never seen before. Freaking out a little, he made a bit of a spectacle trying to verify he wasn't bound in any way.
"'bout time you woke up," Rathus grumbled. Turning, Titus noticed him standing in the doorway, looking both frustrated and smug. "I was worried you might sleep the whole day away."
"Where are we?" Titus demanded. "What's going on?"
"We're at our new home," Rathus shrugged. "You were asleep when we arrived, and you weren't waking up for nothing, so they carried you to the room."
"They?" Titus frowned. "They who?"
"That Orval guy and a few of the men under him," Rathus replied. "Better go tell him thanks."
"Wait, where are you going?" Titus practically fell out of the bed trying to follow Rathus. He probably should've removed the blankets, but it didn't matter at that point. Picking himself up off the floor, he stumbled out into a wide, open expanse. As far as he could tell, they were in some sort of massive two room shed.
"Nice space, isn't it?" Rathus commented as he looked at the empty area. "There was a bit of a tiff over who went where, but we were ultimately given this place."
"By who?" Titus frowned. He didn't want to receive anything from Emerick or his men. The fact they'd helped him already was aggravating.
"Who do you think?" Rathus smirked. "Come on, they've served breakfast, but I'm not sure much is left. You slept in pretty late."
"I'm not eating anything made by that rich prick or his staff," Titus huffed.
"Have fun starving then," Rathus replied with a shrug. So saying, he walked out the large double doors at what Titus assumed was the front of the shed.
"Wait!" Titus hurried after him. "Don't just leave me here! Where is here anyway?"
"Home," Rathus replied, stopping just outside the door, presumably to enjoy the view. Titus halted, eyes widening in shock.
Never before in his life had he seen so much green. A tidy rock path lead from the shed up a hill a half a mile or so to a larger building Titus could only assume was the house itself, though it looked more like a small castle to him. Between the two buildings was a massive garden that was fairly wild and overgrown, but beautiful none the less. The variety of plants in easy reach had his mind reeling with possibilities.
"Beats the orphanage," Rathus commented.
"I guess," Titus sighed. "I still don't trust it though. How did Trixie get this place anyway?"
"Don't ask," Rathus shook his head. "Doubt you'll like the answer any more than I do."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Titus glowered.
"It means let it go," Rathus replied. "Just accept shit changes and stop letting it get to you."
"Like you?" Titus folded his arms across his chest. "Can we take a moment to talk about the fact you killed someone?"
"Oh, good, you're finally bringing that up," Rathus turned to face him. "I was wondering how long you'd pout about that before you actually decided to confront me."
"How are you ok with it?" Titus exclaimed. "How is this not killing you? You aren't a killer!"
"Titus," Rathus sighed and bit his lip. It took a few moments before he spoke again. "Look, not to burst your bubble, but the matron isn't the first person I've killed. She probably won't be the last. Did I enjoy it? No. Does that change the fact I killed her? No. Would I do it again? Yes. If I hadn't she would've killed Trixie."
"You don't know that!" Titus snapped.
"If I didn't kill her, Trixie would've," Rathus replied. "Think what you like, but if she wasn't killed, that old hag would've killed Trixie, Ripley, and any number of us she decided were in her way."
"You don't know that!" Titus repeated, though his words sounded empty in his own ears. Rathus regarded him sadly for a moment, then shook his head and started walking up the path.
"Be mad at me," he suggested. "Yell at me until you feel better. Throw a few punches if it helps you feel better. I know how you are, and I wish I could be the same way."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Titus demanded, hurrying after him.
"I hope you never have to find out."