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The injustice of it burned within Kieran's heart. He'd been such a selfish fool. That morning, Kit had his back covered by a large white shirt with patches all over. When Kieran had seen him in the crackling dawn light however, there were angry red stripes underneath his white fur, accentuated by small flecks of dried blood.

Kit was staring blankly out through a small porthole meant for throwing food out. It was a nice day outside, but he sat in the shadow of the kitchen, his eyes fixed at the blank, featureless horizon. Kieran wanted to talk to Kit about what they had shared the last night, but he couldn't find any words, and his orders from Duck was clear. Say nothing, wait for the next meeting. Kieran decided he'd sneak up again tonight.

That night, he invited Kit into the bed again and Kit curled up, close to the wall, knees to his chest, and tail wrapped around his feet. Kieran didn't fall asleep. He was lying next to the small weasel, looking at his scars. Kit had washed the blood out, but there were parts where small tufts of fur parted away, and he could glimpse traces of red under the ermine coat.

"Kit?"

"hm?" Kit said absently after a while. It was clear he hadn't fallen asleep either. Kieran searched for the words that would fit the situation without forcing him to reveal any of his own secrets.

"I know what happened last night"

"oh." Kit murmured, motionless and hugging the wall, his ears flat to the back of his head. Kieran knew exactly what thoughts went through his mind. He didn't ask how Kieran knew. He didn't want to know what Kieran thought about it.

"You are not alone." He said, after a long pause. "I have known the pain you feel. I was a young fox, and I didn't understand."

There was a long silence, Kit had his back to him, but he wasn't moving a muscle.

"He loves me..." Kit whispered, but there was a strain to his voice.

"You are in love?" Kieran almost burst out, but there was nobody to hear him. His incredulous exclamation nearly brought Kits rage out. He could see the hairs standing on edge on the back of his neck, and the weasel turned his head to meet Kieran's eyes, wincing slightly as he turned in the bed.

"Don't you dare telling anyone" He hissed, a glint of fire in his eyes, before breathing out and looking down into his paws. "I love him, but I don't think he loves me, or if he does... I don't know"

There was another pause as their eyes fell away from each other, Kit's fierce expression died down a little.

"I don't dare to leave him, Kieran."

"Why?"

"I don't know, fox."

"like anything..."

"I don't know, I said, I Don't know. I said too much." Kieran growled, but his eyes were glittering in the scant, dappled light that penetrated the wooden roof. Kit didn't want to talk any more. Kieran was already on edge and didn't dare to prod him any further, fearing he might go and find 'another place to sleep'. Kit and Captain Ajag, he thought to himself. What was this captain's story? Was Kit being tricked? Did Kit know more than he was telling? Of course, he did but how could Kieran find out about it?

Kit had fallen asleep. In a sudden, unexpected movement, his sleeping body had reached out its arms to embrace Kieran's chest. Kieran's heart stopped for a second. It was uncomfortable to Kieran to think that this boy now held him as if Kieran was somehow his lover. Kieran couldn't shake the thought that Kit had been the victim, and he felt bad for having these thoughts. Kieran understood that the betrayal of a loved one was a greater pain, a greater travesty than the betrayal he had experienced.

Kieran felt confident around Kit. Was it their shared experienced, or was is the fact that they were friends now? Kieran understood that friendships were different, but where did a friendship's hug end, and a lover's caress start? Kieran wished he knew one tenth of the things Kit had in his head, maybe he'd understand these thoughts he was having. If he closed his eyes and imagined someone else wrapped around him, he could only think of an empty bed. The warmth and closeness he experienced was different from anything he could conjure in his mind.

He had to find out the secret that Kit was so unwilling to share. Something so awful that Kit wouldn't even tell it after he had told Kieran about the secret affair he had had with the captain. At first, he figured he'd sneak up into the captain's cabin, but the captain never left it, so it would be suicide. Perhaps he could get drunk with the captain. Why would the captain get drunk with a Kitchen Fox? Perhaps he could entice the captain with tales of his escapades in the bar. But the captain was a man's man, and what if he took Kieran's attentions the wrong way. This was clearly a tricky path to take. But the desire to know this dark secret drove him

"Kit, you said something about you and the captain, the other night..." Kieran said in bed some nights later, as they lay together in the light of the moon. They had grown more comfortable together, and Kieran dared to allow Kit the physical contact the boy needed. The little weasel paws clutched his chest fur, and his body tensed up.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What's the matter? you can trust me" Kieran said, and he believed it for a moment.

"I've already said too much." Kit mumbled. "You wouldn't understand."

Kieran understood well enough what Kit wanted but he had always been under orders not to reveal any details about himself. He recalled his last orders from Duck. They had not mentioned those words in particular. Did the new orders cancel out the old?

He silently snuck out from the lower deck after Kit fell asleep. He hugged the wooden planks closely and stayed close to the railing. He'd walked up and down, scrubbing every rail and washing off the salt spray from every plank. He knew where every rope and every block were, and where they led. The night watch had his back to him, and did not react when Kieran half crept, half stalked up to the bowsprit, where the figure was leaning on the railing looking outwards.

Kieran stopped suddenly when he caught the sound of another voice in the night, a gruff, deep and rumbling voice. A voice which was not taking care to make sure it wasn't heard. It was having a conversation with the voice Kieran expected to find alone. He froze mid step, and held his breath, listening to the conversation.

"The boy is a liability." the strangers voice said

"He's untested but he's devoted. He's unpredictable, but I trust him. Against my better judgement, perhaps. Doubt not my judgement." Duck replied. His voice more relaxed but still formal.

"And the other one? He might get in the way, should we dispose of him?"

"That would be difficult, the boy has grown close to him."

"Sir, I told you this would happen, did I not?" The stranger said, addressing Duck with the formal title reserved for the nobility and knighted classes.

"Your counsel did not go unheard. Merely overlooked. The captain is my target, and the weasel knows too much to remain out of this, I might need him alive. The rest of the crew are unaware. My boy is on it."

"Very well, my lord." The gruff strangers voice sounded again, but at a lower volume "What happened last night?"

"An unfortunate incident. It seems the weasel had worn out the captains welcome somewhat. The captain finally grew violent in their encounters."

"Does the crew know?"

"No, it seems my boy is the only one"

"What implications does this have?"

"None, I'm afraid. You should keep your eyes on the captain."

"Yes, my lord, I will keep my eyes and ears open in the day"

"And I will remain vigilant during the night. Quis Separabit" Duck said, the last few words came from that church language Kieran could not understand, that much he was sure of.

"Mors" the stranger's voice replied, and the conversation died.

Kieran's eyes were wide, and his breathing threatened to give him away. He quietly snuck back the way he'd come from, taking care to not take his eyes off the bow of the ship. Words tumbled through his mind as he crept back into bed and found his place underneath the sheets.

They had been talking about the life and death of Kit, that much he'd understood clear enough. Kit held some kind of secret that apparently only the Captain and him knew. It would be up to him to find out this secret and learn the truth behind the conversation.

It was an hour after midnight that Duck stepped into the mess and spotted the two occupants of the narrow bed. His eyebrow raised, but he wasn't surprised. Kieran's eyes were urgent.

"You are here for information about Kit?"

Duck nodded. Kieran had expected him, even before overhearing the conversation. He had a lot on his heart, but he most of all wanted to protect the boy. Protect him from the captain, protect him from this evil world, and even protect him from Duck. He couldn't forget the coldness of Duck's tone as he'd discussed Kit's life and death with the casual stranger.

"I found out about him and the captain, but he was unwilling to reveal much. There is something more than meets the eye. I am not sure it's love." Kieran whispered as quiet as he could.

Duck was crouching close to the bed. He studied the weasel with his inquisitive eyes, which made Kieran feel even more protective of Kit. The weasel's head moved with the sound of their voices, stirring and groaning. Kieran's paw had found the patch of fluff between Kit's ears before he even realised it himself. He held and stroked it, fingering the soft fur until the little weasel settled down and slept quietly. A trick his past had taught him.

"He could be useful to you. Like I was useful. I cannot leave him on this ship."

Duck stroked his chin and studied him closely. "Kieran, you don't know wh..."

"Quis Separabit?" Kieran said, a wild thought, a stray word that had floated into his mind.

Kieran didn't know what the words meant, but they certainly had an effect on Duck. His eyes grew fiery and intense, his ears flopped forward on his head as he startled, but he said nothing for the longest time. Kieran's heart was racing, and he feared it would wake up Kit from its rapid beat. He had never seen Duck convey so much emotion and it frightened him.

"Have you got any idea what you did, what you just said?

Kieran shook his head

"Where? Where did you... Oh." Duck's eyes lit up in realisation. "You sneaky fox." He sighed.

"It is an ancient saying and should not be uttered lightly. I will explain it to you, so that you don't go around foolishly blurting those words out again. I hope you never speak them without the utmost respect for what they mean." Duck hissed with a fierce whisper "It's a saying that, in our... circles... means you swear to protect the others life with your own. You trust your own life to the other. You will kill anyone who threatens the other, and you will die for any cause that might save the other. I repeat to you, Kieran the black fox, do you understand what you just said?"

Kieran nodded slowly.

"And do you wish to take the words back?"

Kieran shook his head.

They were skipping through a field of red flowers together, holding paws and smiling. The world was joyful, and the sun was bright but not stifling. Kit did a twirl and Kieran didn't pick up on the fact that the boy wore nothing, and that he himself wore nothing either, in his own dream. But it was perfect yet. They tumbled through the grass, pouncing and playing like cubs, and laughing and smiling, and it was all so lovely. There were no cares in the world, the dream had erased all the bad memories from Kieran and Kit's minds. Everything was just bliss, as they came to a panting, laughing halt after a particularly vigorous pounce.

Kit was astride Kieran's lap, on top of the fox. He clutched the fox' fur, the long black chest fur. Kieran could feel his own heart beating in the dream. He held his paws up, and Kit placed his head in them. He clutched the head to his chest, and the words of the lullaby came back to him.

Kit was rubbing against him, there was a sensation of warmth from where he sat across Kieran's lap. The warmth was nice. Kieran heard his own voice say the words, but he didn't realise he had said them, the dream was vivid and wild, and he had no control over his own actions.

"Kit, you're beautiful" His words said, his eyes smiled, his muzzle pulled close to Kit's and his paws pushed the weasels muzzle up to join his. He stirred underneath Kit's tail.

"You're beautiful too" A voice came back to him, and the dream faded.

The night was turning to dawn, but the light was dim yet. The morning whistle wouldn't sound until after sunrise, which must have been an hour away still. Kit had not shifted, his paw still resting on Kieran's chest. Kieran was throbbing and pulsing under his sheet, the dream had been so vivid it had sparked a great desire within his body. He couldn't understand how it had happened, but the thought of the weasel close to him didn't make his problem go away. His heart was pounding, what if Kit saw, what would the boy think of him?

Kieran was prepared to confront Kit with many things, but he was not prepared to tell Kit about his dream or ask him what it might mean. He felt he knew the answer Kit might come up with, and he didn't want to hear it. He never enjoyed any man's attentions before, but this dream was so exciting and different. He wanted to go back to sleep and find out how it ended, but his body was yearning for something different. He couldn't let Kit see him in this state.

Maybe Kieran could get away with it if it was a very quick one. He moved a paw down to his shaft and touched it inquisitively. The shaft was sticky and wet and his fur down there was matted with it too. A tingle of excitement went up his spine as he grabbed himself under the base of the knot and gave it a gentle squeeze. He wondered at the readiness of his body to give him pleasure when he was so closed to another man. He'd just get it over with, and then think about it later. He wasn't thinking clearly at this stage

He stroked gently, feeling the warm glow of heat spread through his body as his heart beat faster. Kit didn't stir, he laid still, not even shifting. Kieran's confidence grew slightly, and he stroked a little more, a bit more vigorous.

He'd lost himself in his work, his paws working his shaft up and down, his subtle panting, choked off to not make more noise, were coming more and more rapidly now. He'd lost sight of his surroundings and closed his eyes to recall the dream. It was still clearly visible to him in his mind. Kit's slender, young body on top of his, the look in his eyes, the desire. The way he'd said he was beautiful. It was all working for Kieran.

He suddenly noticed a stir from his side, the paw clutching his chest was no longer there. He froze in shock and opened his eyes, to find Kit there. Looking at him. In the dark he couldn't tell what kind of look the boy was giving him, but he also felt an unfamiliar feeling against his sheath and sack. A warm, slender paw was partly holding his own. It was Kit's paw. Kieran looked down at himself, and just as he thought, Kit's paws had slid down to touch him, as he was touching himself.

"Don't stop, fox" Kit whispered into his ears, his paw cupping Kieran's own paw and gently moved it up and down, but Kieran couldn't focus on the task at hand.

"S... sorry Kit. I didn't mean to..."

"I said, don't stop..." He repeated, his voice low. His breath whistled in Kieran's ear, but Kieran's paw had moved away from the shaft. Kit's hadn't. It continued to stroke where Kieran left off, and the sensation was immense. He shut out all his confusing thoughts. His head leaned back, his eyes closed, and he breathed out. Why didn't he stop Kit now? He could just say no. He could just get out of bed and pretend it didn't happen.

"Kit... Kit we shouldn't!" He moaned, but there was no use resisting, his body was begging for it, and he realised he was begging for it with every action, every word, every breath that came out of his body. Kit had a paw on his head, clutching it closer to Kit's chest, in the same way Kieran had once held him. The pleasure wouldn't go away, it just kept increasing and intensifying, until Kieran couldn't hold it back anymore. He yipped and arched his back and twitched as the pleasure hit him in waves.

Kit's paw was sticky and flecked with dripping white liquid. Kieran panted. He didn't want to open his eyes and face the world, he only wanted to lie in bed and let the enjoyment wash over him like this for a little bit more. After a while, he could feel Kit laying down next to him again, resting his paw on his chest, and it was as if nothing had happened.

When the whistle blew, the daily routine began again, but there was a change in Kit. A different glow, a spring in his step. It's not like Kieran had forgotten about their romp. Whereas Kieran had pushed it to the back of his mind, it seemed to affect the weasel strongly. They prepared food in silence, ate in silence, and cleaned up in silence, but the silence was constantly loaded with unspoken questions he could sense Kit just begging him to ask. He'd heard stories of boys experimenting with each other before. It was natural, of course, It didn't have to mean anything.

Kieran felt he was getting closer to the answer with Kit and his secret. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to. He had sworn his life to the boy, now it was all or nothing. Duck was topside, he would never find out. He had said "whatever it takes". He felt a stronger connection to Kit. Something inside him told him that now was the time.

"I can tell you some of my secrets, if you want..." Kieran blurted out, bluntly attacking the issue head on, as he knew no better way to enter the subject.

"That's not..." Kit stammered, caught off guard by the sudden comment

"No, it's okay... I just realised you've done so much for me and yet you know so little about me."

"I know a lot about you, Kieran." Kit said, nuzzling his neck "But you can tell me what you think I should know"

Kieran began telling about his life. How he got to Matron's bar, how he struggled with the servitude, the isolation, and the constant harassment. He explained the meaning of the sea shanty Kit had heard about the Dusky Fox, even though that part rankled in his mind. He even told Kit about the deal he struck with the otter, and how the otter had tricked him into the bed afterwards. Finally he dug the little, heavy wooden chest out, and fingered it uncertainly, before opening it and showing Kit it's contents. Kit didn't seem that fussed about the money, for some reason. But the chest was a comforting thing to Kieran, and it felt strange and wonderful to be able to show it to someone else. It gave him the confidence to take the explanation further, even though he knew he shouldn't.

Kieran explained about the secrets Duck and he shared. It got out of hand as he started talking, his heart pounding faster as he realised how he was suddenly laying his soul bare for the world, as he had never done before. For some reason, he couldn't stop talking to this boy.

"Is he some sort of spy?" Kit wondered aloud as Kieran was explaining the last details about his encounters with Duck and the stranger on the deck.

"I don't know what he is exactly" Kieran said. "I owe him my life twice over and swore to follow him. I'd take that over a life of servitude at the bar any day."

"I don't know, Kieran... it sounds like a life in a different kind of servitude, if you see what I mean"

"I don't care about the servitude." He grasped at his words, which were proving elusive "I just want to... to have some control..."

Kieran felt much more comfortable talking to Kit than he did around Duck. Duck was still hiding things from him. Kieran didn't want to hide things from Kit anymore, he felt such a relief from having told Kit the secrets he'd already told, and he wished this feeling would never go away.

"I get it, fox, I do. If you were to serve under anybody, and it was your choosing, you could do worse than Duck, I suppose."

"I wanted to take you off this ship, you know." Kieran continued. "I talked to Duck about it. It's not good for you here, and I wanted to take you along to wherever he is heading."

Kit's ears flattened, he pulled away from Kieran, and looked away from his inquisitive eyes.

"Off the ship?" Kit had a nervous strain to his voice.

"Yeah, I was hoping maybe you would want to come with me when we make landfall"

"I can't leave the ship." Kit said, rather too quickly, and Kieran's ears twitched, as he noticed. Kieran thought they were sharing something nice, He hoped Kit might be happy to come along, and get away from the life of hard work on the ship. He thought Kit might want to escape the captain, after all.

"Sure, you can, it's in the contract, you can leave at any port provided you notify the captain or first mate a week in advance, I read the thing myself!"

"Kieran... I'm not under any contract."

"Sure, you are, we all are. Don't you remember signing yours. I know you know letters." Kieran said, his ears folding down as he caught the guilty look on Kit's face, who had pushed slightly away from the fox.

"It's not... I'm not..." Kit sighed; his muzzle wanted to say something, but his resolve didn't quite reach his tongue. He fidgeted for a little, and grabbed his tail, and picked at the white fur. "Remember how I told you that I was captured by pirates?"

Kieran nodded; it had been one of the first things Kit had told him. Although he didn't know much about it, or what kind of pirates they were, or how he'd gotten free.

"I'm still a captive" Kit murmured. "I'm a slave. The captain's..."

"What?" A flash of anger, wild anger, rushed into Kieran's voice, and his exclamation made Kits ears flatten further, and the little weasel curled up defensively. He couldn't be a slave. He seemed so un-slave like all the time. Friendly with the crew, friendly with Kieran, never complaining much, upbeat and really rather sweet.

"shh, not so loud, Kieran..." He whispered "Nobody can know..."

"You're a slave? Like an actual slave?"

"Legally, yes. The captain owns me"

"I'll kill him." Kieran muttered darkly. He clenched his wooden chest tight, digging his claws into the woodwork, and adding more scrapes and dents to the weatherd exterior. He had no love for the slave trade. For one, it reminded him of his own servitude, and secondly He'd heard the horrible stories from the sailors who sometimes came into the bar, who treated their slave cargo like they were transporting lumber or cotton. "I'll kill him. I swear I will kill him."

"Stop it Kieran." Kit whined. "Please. Don't say that."

"I'll kill... What why?" Kieran's eyes shot back to Kits

"He's... It's not like what you think, he's different..."

"Different? Kit, he owns you. He's using you like some sort of toy. Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not defending him!" Kit protested "But... oh Kieran... You can't just kill him... it wouldn't solve anything... and I still love him, I think..."

"How can you love someone like that?"

"I don't know..." Kit whined, his eyes gaining a new glistening shine in the moonlight "I don't know, I don't know, I'm so confused!"

Kieran felt sick inside, he couldn't say another word, his anger was too great, and he didn't trust himself not to hurt Kit with his words. He held Kit close, and he knew that was what Kit needed then, but the strong jealousy, and anger that had upset Kit, enveloped every thought inside his head. He wanted to kill that captain, it was his desire, and he wanted Kit to be free so that he could come with him. He wanted to hurt something. Most of all he wanted to hold Kit right then and there and never let go. But he had to speak with the night watch.