"Oh my god." Noah wanted to look up, to see Krem's face, but Krem was resting his head on Noah's hair and Noah was too endeared to move away from it. His hand tightened on Krem's kneecap, though, and the other, around his waist, absently stroked the small of his back.

"Well you're here and alive, and it was nine years ago, so I assume you got away? Or...were you a slave?" He desperately hoped not, that Krem had instead escaped before he even had the chance to be put through that. He was small and clever enough to, Noah liked to think.