He decided that the source of his anger was simply because he was starving.

Viktor was irritated - beyond irritated, maybe - with Vok'Rul, but he certainly didn't hate him. No, that particular honor went to the ringmaster. But it didn't help that the alien was reluctant to let him out of his grasp and retreat back to the relative safety of his closet.

The murmuring of the crowd swelled and then quieted when the alien to Vok'Rul's right - his sister - stood from her seat and began speaking in a loud, clear tone. Polite applause, something that made Viktor's skin crawl no matter how quiet it was, filled the room as she finished. Immediately, some of the aliens in the room began to settle into a neat line.

They were all holding... stuff. As the first alien came into view, Vok'Rul straightened in his seat, temporarily loosening the hold he had on Viktor. He relished in the pseudo-freedom. The alien quickly wrapped an arm around him again at the first sign of movement - Viktor had simply tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but apparently, that wasn't allowed.

Trying to stifle the anger that welled up in the back of his throat, Viktor turned his attention to the alien in front of the table. It wouldn't be a good idea to make a scene in front of all these aliens. There'd be no good place to hide. Hell, the only exit from what Viktor could see was across the room.

There were only about a million aliens between him and real freedom. No big deal.

The alien in front of the table was neatly dressed, draped in some expensive-looking fabric that hung off their shoulders in waves. It held what seemed to be an electronic device. It buzzed and snapped in its hands. The alien was speaking quickly to an interested Vok'Rul, waving a free hand over the device and pointing out specific pieces.

It must be explaining how it worked, Viktor supposed. The alien poked the device and it began making a high-pitched whirring noise. Viktor slapped his hands over his ears.

"Jesus, turn that off," he complained, relieved when the alien immediately switched it off. It looked sheepish, but Vok'Rul spoke kindly to it, waving it off with some words. They must've been encouraging because the alien looked resolute when it nodded and left the line.

The next alien had something else to show Vok'Rul, and so did the one after that. It only took Viktor until the fourth alien to realize that the night had devolved into some sort of invention showcase.

It must have been a rather highly sought-after event, considering how many aliens were excited to even lay their eyes on Vok'Rul. Most of them were accompanied by an elderly alien, too. A possible sponsor of theirs, maybe? Viktor wasn't one to riddle things out. All he knew, at this point, was that these aliens were showing up, demonstrating their inventions, and - depending on Vok'Rul's reaction - leaving happy or dejected.

Viktor watched them all carefully. That dream had been eerily realistic, and he certainly wasn't going to let his guard down in front of a bunch of unknown aliens.

Like before, most barely batted an eye at him. It made something sour curl in his stomach. To be treated like an animal was debasing. At least when he had been in the arena, he had the others to complain with - one couldn't get lost in the agonizing unfairness of it all when there were people to listen to one's complaints.

Vok'Rul's arm around him felt like shackles.

Viktor squinted as the latest alien - some yellow-hued alien with an armful of disc-shaped objects in its arms - left the front of the table after Vok'Rul's less-than-interested response. A new one took its place swiftly, looking eager and excited.

Their eyes landed on Viktor almost immediately, widening in surprise. He was immediately on edge.

The alien was female, which Viktor could only figure out because she immediately started speaking fast. She was dressed oddly compared to all the other aliens he had seen here. Instead of the tailored clothing many of the others preferred to wear, she had mismatched sleeves, various necklaces and belts looped around her stomach, arms and legs, and large hoops dangling from her horns. Behind her was an elderly alien, who looked a bit exasperated and fond of the smaller one. He was dressed like any of the other elderly aliens here: pressed, fit clothing with little jewelry adorning him.

The small alien was gesturing at Viktor, looking at him with bright, enthusiastic eyes. The elderly alien laid a hand on her shoulder and pulled her backward slightly, bowing at Vok'Rul and murmuring something. Viktor felt him chuckle, and he couldn't help but feel a bit put out that he wasn't able to understand anything.

The alien across from them resumed her excited chattering – though, at a more acceptable volume this time – and pulled what seemed to be a dozen bags from her pockets. Viktor tried and failed to suppress the flinch that went through him when she reached for her waist. He glowered at her when she froze and looked at him with pity.

Vok'Rul said something, flapping his free hand with his words. Viktor stopped paying attention to him when he noticed that the small bags the other alien had pulled from her pockets were bags that looked oh-so-familiar.

He was viciously reminded of his hunger upon laying his eyes on the bags of food.

The alien fumbled with the bags, trying and failing to open one while her hands were occupied with the others. The elderly alien behind her plucked a few bags from her hands, leaving her only one. She looked at him gratefully, eyes crinkling with glee and excitement. She ripped open the bag she held and pulled out a little star-shaped object.

"Fruit," he whispered reverently.

At least, he thought it was a fruit. It was bright purple, vivid, and shiny. At his whispered exclamation, Fruit-lady offered the bag of fruit to him. He reached out to grab the package, eager to taste-test this new morsel of food. Anything would be appreciated for his empty stomach.

Surprised and loud exclamations from Vok'Rul, his sister, and the bodyguards stationed behind them stopped her in her tracks. She retracted her hand with a sharp motion, looking sheepishly alarmed. She bowed in apology, murmuring what could only be pleas for forgiveness.

After a tense moment, Vok'Rul's sister held out her hand, and the bag was dropped into her claws. She inspected it - for what, Viktor had no clue - and passed it to Vok'Rul with a small, nearly inaudible huff.

Viktor made a grab for the bag only to be thwarted as Vok'Rul held it out of reach. He murmured something incomprehensible to him, tightening his grip around Viktor's midsection until the human reluctantly stopped.

Vok'Rul watched him for a second before removing his arm and opening the bag. He pulled out a piece of fruit - and it was fruit, Viktor could see it clearly now - and gave it to him hesitantly.

The fruit piece fit nicely in his palm. It made his fingers sticky with its juice, and frankly, Viktor could never be happier. He tentatively took a bite.

It was the most delicious thing he's ever eaten.

He promptly tried to shove the rest in his mouth as quickly as possible. He heard Vok'Rul squawk in alarm and reach for him. Viktor, unwilling to give up his newly acquired food, glared at him and made a low noise of protest, leaning away from him.

He must have looked ferocious enough because Vok'Rul left him alone, only coming at him with a soft napkin Viktor didn't see him grab after he had swallowed most of the fruit. He tried to wipe away some of the juice, but the teenager quickly snatched it from his hand. He could scrub his own face, thank you.

His attention was drawn to the pair of aliens in front of them. Fruit-lady motioned to her teeth, pulling her lips up in a semi-scary smile. She gestured to Viktor vaguely, speaking quickly but firmly, as if she knew what she was talking about. Vok'Rul called his name, and Viktor looked up, eyes traveling to the bag in his hand immediately. He heard Vok'Rul huff, but the alien knew what he was asking for and handed him another, much smaller piece of fruit. This time, Viktor tried to savor it.

It was gone in three quick bites.

God, it was so good. It tasted like strawberries and nothing like Earthly starfruits. He liked that it stained his fingers purple.

"Kohgrash," Vok'Rul said. Viktor grunted in response, trying to think of ways he could kidnap Fruit-lady so she could feed him fruit all the time. Vok'Rul said a string of words he didn't understand. "Tokka," was the only thing he could pick out, and that was because the alien kept repeating it. There were a couple of clicks and grunts in front of the word that he could never hope to replicate.

"Tokka, yeah we get it," Viktor said, just to shut him up. The alien was insistent on making him repeat the word. "Norish now?"

He got another fruit.

Fruit-lady and her elderly companion seemed pretty pleased with the development, to which Viktor could say the same. They soon left the table, and Viktor was slightly sad to see them go. They left the purple fruit bag with them, though. Vok'Rul's sister hung onto it, much to his dismay. Viktor was okay with asking Vok'Rul for food, but all bets were off when it came to the other aliens.

The afternoon slowly slid into the evening which slowly trickled into nighttime and still, there were aliens milling about the large room. The time of day didn't even seem to make a dent in the population. The food kept replenishing and that laughter and chatter never dipped below a low murmur. Vok'Rul had remained in his seat the entire time, and as a consequence, so did Viktor.

His body was cramped and aching from the limited position he had found himself in. Shifting uncomfortably had solved nothing since Vok'Rul simply rebuked him for moving. It had chafed him; he had snapped at the alien with such ferocity that surprised even him, but still, the alien would not relent. The burning anger he felt at the alien was slowly mounting, and he knew that he needed to get out of this godforsaken room before he exploded with the force of it.

Mercifully, the aliens seemed to notice the lateness of the night and began leaving the room, one by one. It took forever, but eventually, the only aliens that were left in the room were Vok'Rul, his sister, and a few members of the staff.

Occasionally, a servant would flit in, quick and quiet as a mouse, and grab some plates or a chair and disappear with the item. Viktor didn't see the rude alien that had grabbed him. He wondered if it had gotten fired.

Vok'Rul stood up, intent on keeping Viktor in his arms. The alien spoke quietly to him, chest rumbling with the sound of his voice. Viktor barely paid any attention to him, trying to figure out if there were a way to get out of the hold he had on him. He wanted to leave. He had put up with enough today.

"Rukka," Vok'Rul suddenly said, much louder than the whispered words to him. His sister, who had been conversing with a bodyguard, looked over at him quizzically.

Rukka, that must be her name. It probably wasn't her full name, since she had called Vok'Rul just Rul once, but it was all Viktor could hope to pronounce. These aliens seemed to have a lot of grunts, clicks, and growls in their language that Viktor couldn't hope to replicate well enough.

During his conversation with Rukka, the hold Vok'Rul had on Viktor had loosened, just a fraction. Viktor tested the waters by squirming out of his grip, and thankfully, the alien allowed it, dropping him gently on the floor.

He almost fell over. His legs had quickly gone numb, no matter how many times he had tried shifting them. Pinwheeling his arms to regain his balance, Viktor took a few stumbling steps forward before he caught himself.

Jumping in place to get the blood running through his limbs again, Viktor decided that he could just make his way back to the closet. He didn't need to wait for Vok'Rul, really. Especially since the alien had basically trapped him here.

With the way that Vok'Rul and Rukka were conversing, it'd probably take a while for them to even think about going back to their respective homes. They had that... stance about them. Viktor knew the one. He had seen it enough when he had been younger, hanging off his dad's arm and begging for them to just go.

Ignoring the sting in his heart at the thought of his dad, Viktor decided to just start walking. Unfortunately, he wasn't as stealthy as he thought he'd been.

"Kohgrash!" Vok'Rul's tone sounded a little exasperated, but more panicked, so Viktor turned around abruptly, squinting at him. He didn't seem so tall across the room.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled under his breath, standing stiffly in place to see what the alien would do next.

"Pora!" he called, doing that stupid hand gesture. Viktor's eye twitched.

"Go to hell!" was his reply, irritated at the alien.

The purple fruit, while delicious and refreshing after such a long day, had only delayed his irritation at the alien. Viktor was annoyed. He could feel his teeth clenching and his eyebrows knitting together almost painfully. He hated that the alien had so much control over him. It was almost worse than the ringmaster. Almost.

He spun around, trying to stomp out of the room. He heard heavy footsteps behind him, and his heart leaped into his throat. There was an arm coming toward him. His body reacted on pure terror-driven instinct.

His hands curled into fists, and he thanked whatever deity was listening that he hadn't broken his dominant arm. As he turned to face his target, he swung before he even registered what was happening, his fist connecting solidly with the wall of muscle in front of him. Viktor hurriedly took a few paces backward after he heard his opponent make a noise.

His blood was thumping in his ears, pumping adrenaline through him quickly. He barely noticed his back colliding with the railing of the stairs. He hooked his casted arm around one of the pillars quickly, nearly losing his balance and falling down the stairs. The railing pressed against his back, much like the bars of the cage.

Slouched haphazardly against it, Viktor struggled to get himself together. His breathing was erratic, and it took large, stuttering gasps for air in order for Viktor to get his breathing under control.

Viktor kept his lips pressed together, breathing harshly through his nose. He kept his eyes trained on Vok'Rul, who seemed to be frozen in place. His expression, minute as all the aliens' seemed to have, looked distraught and guilty. He was looking at Viktor with pity in his eyes, just like Lilac had done. Viktor got the almost overwhelming urge to cry.

He forced his tears back with effort. He felt shaky and unstable. His heartbeat was still loud and heavy in his ears. Vok'Rul took a small step, jewelry tinkling and announcing his movement.

Viktor was sprinting down the stairs before he could think about it. The steps were too big for him to do so comfortably and safely. Halfway down and going too fast, Viktor missed a step. There was a shout behind him. Panic clawing up his throat and needing to be anywhere but here, please, please, please, Viktor barely caught himself from cracking his skull open on the stairs. As soon as he caught his balance, he booked it.

Clawed hands reached for him - the bodyguards that were always posted at the entrance, the rational part of his mind told him - and the hysterical part of his mind told him he was getting chased, he was going to get grabbed, and he was going to be thrown into a cage again.

He threw himself to the side, barely managing to bring himself into a sloppy roll when one of the hands brushed his arm. He made a high sound of distress, raw and wild in his throat.

He had no idea where he was going until he stumbled into the safety of Vok'Rul's wing. There were no more footsteps behind him, and chancing a glance over his shoulder told him there really was no one following him. Still, he didn't let himself breathe until he had scrambled up the stairs and shut himself in the closet.

Viktor had no idea how long he sat on the bed, knees hugged close to his chest until he finally felt normal. He sighed to himself, loud in the enclosed space. He felt no inclination to move from his spot, even when he heard the faintest evidence that Vok'Rul was shuffling around outside of the office. The alien didn't come in and bother him.

Viktor didn't move from his spot, eyes trained on the closet door and what little he could see outside of the slats of wood that it was made of. He watched, detached, as the weak white sun of the alien planet rose higher and higher in the sky, casting light grey shadows in the room. He watched as Vok'Rul finally came into the room, stepping lightly and barely making a noise. Viktor forcefully dropped his shoulders, which had raised nearly all the way up to his ears.

The door slowly opened, as if it were afraid Viktor was going to lash out and attack. Listlessly, Viktor raised his eyes slightly to look at Vok'Rul's form. The alien soon came into view as he crouched, far enough away that Viktor didn't feel trapped.

The alien spoke quietly. Viktor could only get a few words he was saying, like "cho'k," "norish," "lorka," and his name. He wasn't too inclined to move from where he was, so he paid little mind to the alien, especially when he waved some jerky in front of himself to tempt Viktor out. After what was probably half an hour of Vok'Rul trying and failing to rouse Viktor at all, the alien finally left.

Viktor buried his face in his arms, unwilling to look at anything right now. More than anything at all, he just wanted to go home.

***

Vocabulary:

cho'k: endearment, usually meaning little one, love; usually used for pets or small children

lorka: home

pora: come

norish: food