Once A Liar (TW: child abuse) [Treyjen]

[Zen]

About 6 months before A Toast To The Bride
Treyjen: 13

Nalyra wanted to go swimming. They were finally back in Southern, where the waters and the weather were warm and pleasant, but they’d only just arrived and there was work to be done. If they got the chance to enjoy Southern it likely wouldn’t be for a few days. But Nalyra wanted to go swimming now, not later, not in a few days. Now. Treyjen had half laughed and half sighed at his sister’s pleading look but when the girl had taken off across the ship, he’d been forced to follow. She was an agile little thing.

So they’d ended up on the beach, and since they were there they might as well swim. Why couldn’t he ever say no to the little brat? He should have tossed the five turn old over his shoulder and dragged her back to the ship, returned her to their mother’s watchful eye. But he didn’t. She was still learning, so he never strayed far from her, gave her pointers. After about an hour or so she finally grew tired of the activity and clambered onto his back so he could carry her back to the ship.

As soon as he set foot back on deck his father’s voice rang out, “Where have you been!?”

He stopped just off the gangplank, Nalyra still on his back, as Treylok headed their way. Hurriedly, he crouched to let Nalyra down, ushering her away, quickly, “Go on, Nalyra. Go find mother.”

“But-”

“Go,” he hissed, and she scurried away with a nervous glance back as their father stopped in front of him, grabbed him by the arm, and began to drag him across the deck.

“Well? I’m still waiting for an explanation. What did you sneak off to steal this time you little Threadspawn?” Treylok spat.

“I didn’t steal anything! N-... I wanted t’go swimming. I took Nalyra along t’teach her,” he tried to explain, doing his best to keep up with his father’s strides as the man’s grip cut painfully into his arm.

“When I know you were aware there was work for you to do here? You’re dragging her out into your nonsense? Teaching her to shirk duties for fun,” he shoved Treyjen ahead of him, into his quarters, and slammed the door shut behind him. “And do you really think I believe you didn’t swipe some trinket while you were out? It’s all you’ve been doing lately. Where are you hiding it? Empty your pockets!”

“I don’t have anything in my-” the backhand sent him stumbling back and he covered his face instinctively with one hand as the sting made his eyes water.

“I said empty them!” Treylok demanded.

Treyjen turned out his pockets, and other than a length of rope for practicing knots, they were empty. He shot his father a hateful glare, “See! I told you-” Another backhand cut him off and he seethed.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” Treylok snarled, grabbing him by his wrist to pull him close and tugging the boy’s shirt up, “Where did you hide it?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” he shouted back, angry at the tears that threatened his vision. He jerked away, surprised when his father let him go, but only for a moment, before a cold trickle of fear went through him as he heard his father undoing his belt buckle, “Father, I didn’t… I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

“Take off your shirt, boy, I won’t have it ruined,” Treylok replied, uncaring for his pleas of innocence.

“Father please... I promise… I didn’t-”

“Why in Faranth’s name would I believe a word you say to me?” Treylok tugged the belt off, “Now remove your shirt and turn around!”

He knew he had hardly given his father a reason to believe him in recent months, with how he’d been playing with petty theft as a new pastime, but he’d just showed him he wasn’t hiding anything. It wasn’t as if he’d had time to stash anything anywhere. This wasn’t fair. He nearly told him to ask Nalyra, she would tell him all they did was swim, but he didn’t want to drag her into this. He couldn’t risk involving her, turning their father’s wrath to her instead. So he gritted his teeth and turned around, lifting his shirt over his head, angry as the hot tears of frustration began to slide down his face even before his father started with the beating.

He tried not to cry out, but it only worked for the first two lashes, and then he stopped trying. Treylok didn’t stop until he was shaking on his hands and knees. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t even done anything this time! He could at least accept it when he got caught doing something wrong, but his father always found him guilty whether there was proof or not. As he heard his father putting the belt back on, he screamed at him, “I hate you!”

Treylok scowled down at him, “I don’t need you to like me, boy, only to obey me. I still expect you to do your work today, and you’ll have no meal until it’s done, so I suggest you get to it.”

His father left him there, closing the door behind him as he returned out to the deck. Treyjen forced himself off his hands, sitting back on his knees, breath hissing between his teeth as his back felt as if it were on fire. He wiped at his face, trying to get rid of the tears, hating them, hating his father, hating his helplessness. But the one time he’d tried to fight against his father’s unfair punishment he’d only been held down and gotten worse for it. It was better to just let it happen… far better.

Finally able to get his tears under control, he plucked up his shirt from where he had dropped it and carefully maneuvered it back on, hissing again as the cloth slid over the burning welts on his back and set them aflame all anew. Getting to work as his father expected would be miserable, every slight twist or strain of his back would refresh the pain, and the work he would be doing would most certainly be physical in nature. But unless he wanted his father to drag him back in here for another belting, he would suffer through it and do as he was told.

And suffer through it he did, as he always did. It made for slow going, and he was starving before he finally neared being done. He thought about sneaking something to eat, because at least then he would have done something to deserve this pain, but he really couldn’t handle another beating today if he was caught. He was carrying a crate of redfruit toward the stairs up to the deck when a weight suddenly landed on his back. The crate crashed to the floor as he fell to his knees with a sharp cry of pain, small arms wrapping around his neck, but leaving him quickly.

“Treyjen?” Nalyra’s concerned, scared voice as she backed away from her brother.

Treyjen stayed where he was, on his hands and knees, holding back more tears as he panted through the pain. A redfruit rolled and stopped against one of his hands. “Shells… shells no,” he murmured with some amount of horror in his tone, reaching for it, grabbing it, casting a wild look around at the mess, redfruit everywhere. “Nalyra… Nalyra help me. We… we have t’get them picked up…. Hurry.”

Nalyra scurried after the fruit that had rolled farther away as Treyjen crawled after the nearer ones, turning the crate rightside up and beginning to pile them back in. They had to get this cleaned up before someone saw, before his father could find out. If word of any further mistake on his part reached Treylok today….

Fortunately they refilled the crate rather quickly. Well, Nalyra did. Treyjen’s pain kept him from moving all that fast. He pulled himself up using a wall to lean against, gritting his teeth as he bent to pick up the crate once more, heaving it up with a sharp intake of breath.

“I’m sorry, Treyjen… did I hurt you?” Nalyra stood staring up at him with wide eyes.

He gave her a smile that was more grimace than anything, but she didn’t seem to notice, “Not you. I… I hurt my back earlier, strained it, picking up something too heavy. Just… just don’t do that again for a while, alright?”

Nalyra nodded solemnly, “Can I help you carry anything?”

“N-no… I’ve got it. Thanks, though,” he forced another smile for her and continued up the stairs, silently cursing every step.