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Thimble wakes up, having slept peacefully for the first time in weeks, in the middle of the day in a cave. She wakes up not feeling older than the day before, for the first time in years.
She wakes up to a pair of glowing green eyes diligently watching her every subtle move as she stirs to consciousness.
It should startle her. If eyes like that belonged to anyone – to anything – else, she’d be on her guard in half a heartbeat. Up and ready, blades out, poised to strike.
But instead she smiles, and the big person those strangely bright eyes belong to smiles back, and for a moment, Thimble wants to stop time entirely. She wants to exist only here, in this dark cave lit with a magic purple glow, with these eyes on her and that smile lighting up her life and none of the problems and the dangers that await them the moment they step outside the forest again.
It’s always felt wrong to think about any of that when Occtis looks at her, to think about all she’s lost and all he’s gone through. It feels wrong to feel anything but the unexpected, unexplainable joy they bring each other.
So she doesn’t. Just for a moment.
“Hey…” Occtis says, his voice as soft as dappled sunlight in the Golden Orchard.
“Hey,” she echoes, rubbing at her eyes while the smiles still linger on both their faces.
“How’d you sleep?”
Thimble sighs and stretches but doesn’t get up, content atop the soft bed of leaves he’d gathered together for her from the forest. Just behind her, Pincushion lets out a sigh of his own as he stretches too, seemingly still half asleep despite his duty of flanking the side of her opposite from where Occtis sits against the wall. She chuckles to herself and pats the fox’s white fur before answering slowly.
“Surprisingly good…considering what happened last night…”
The fond grin slides from Occtis’s face and turns into a cringe as he looks away, and that single moment of bliss passes by like a solitary ray of sunlight peeking through a sky full of clouds before it’s swallowed up again. He licks his lips awkwardly but it doesn’t seem to bring them any moisture.
“Yeah, I…I’m sorry,” he croaks, furrowing his brow before looking her in the eye again. “I didn’t know him well – either of them, I guess – but…Teor seemed like a very good man.”
“They both were…”
It must show on her face, the way she feels her heart clench in her chest like it’s being grabbed by a Davinos demi-gauntlet – harsh and constricting – because Occtis puts on that look of deep worry and seems for a moment like he’s going to reach out to comfort her.
But his hand hesitates, fingers curling into a loose fist, and instead he asks, “Are you okay?”
It’s the second time in three days he’s asked her that question in the same soft, desperate tone.
“Are you okay?”
All she could do was shake her head, mirroring the shake of his voice. The relief was overwhelming, but the grief she’d been carrying around for days had still grown heavier at the sight of him…that first sight of those glowing green eyes…
No. She wasn’t okay. She was closer to it than she’d been for days, believing she’d just lost two of the most important people in her life, but she wasn’t sure, in that moment, that she could ever really be okay again.
So all she could do was shake her head.
“Are you?”
He laughed. He actually laughed. It was just enough to make her smile, purely out of habit, out of reflex. That was just what they did together. The only thing that felt more absurd than responding to his ironic chuckle with a smile of her own was the idea of not doing it.
“Um…no,” he admitted. “But, I’m here.”
He was there, smiling at her. Dead, but not dead, and smiling at her. And Thimble wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to give him some comforting caress of his gaunt cheek, or, better yet, to embrace his cold body. Wrap him in her arms and never let anything hurt him ever again.
But she couldn’t. She was four inches tall, and uneasy about his new condition, and all too aware that there were a dozen sets of eyes on them at the moment. She couldn’t.
She didn’t.
She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to land on his shoulder, and she kicks herself for it now, when that perfectly awful combination of relief and grief washes over her again and she thinks once more about how everything has changed in such a short time.
Thimble rises, flies up to where Occtis’s hesitant hand lingers just in front of his body, and this time she does reach out to touch him.
“No. I’m not okay. But I’m here,” she assures him, with his own words, as she holds onto his now outstretched finger with both hands. “And they’ll be at rest.”
Their eyes meet, and his fond smile returns.
“Thanks to you,” he says. Thimble shrugs and looks away, but Occtis’s careful fingertip guides her chin back up to look at him with the softest of nudges. “I mean it. Thank you. We certainly would not have…wanted to meet whatever version of them my family would have created…”
He gives a little nervous laugh laced with real fear, and she smiles sadly at him. At the whole, awful absurdity of it.
“They won’t hurt anyone,” she promises with a whisper. “And neither will Raimond.”
They each cast a half-conscious glance in the direction of Julien, asleep on the far side of the cavern and, they can only assume, finally free of any concern about his delightfully haunted shadow. Thimble makes a mental note to thank him again. He’d saved Thjazi’s soul by being a gigantic asshole who spits on corpses, and he’d kept Occtis safe by being a gigantic asshole who wants to use innocent people as bait. Assholes are useful no matter how much they stink, she muses to herself.
Thankfully, Occtis draws her attention back to himself with a voice filled with familiar boyish awe.
“I still can’t believe you got them out of there,” he says, his eyes wide and unblinking as he studies her. “How did you….how was that even possible?”
She goes to hold up her forearms to show him Callowyn’s bracers, only to remember that she’s small again and they’ve shifted form along with her. Her hands ghost over the armor that now covers her, beautiful and intricate and full of magic she can’t explain but knows so well because it’s the same as what courses through her.
She tells Occtis what she can. She tells him about how they’d found the Royce relics on one of his own vassal knights in a dank dungeon where she could’ve been turned to stone and lost forever, about how Teor had used them to rescue his brother from that place, about how the two brothers had died together and left those same bracers for her to find when she’d thought there was no way for her to get Teor and Cyd out of his family’s home. She can’t explain how or why the bracers had called to her, how their magic had adapted to her instantly, or how they – along with this place’s sudden appearance – deepened her own strength and power. But she tries her best, and Occtis listens with rapt, unblinking attention throughout it all.
In the end, his smile is as wide as his eyes, before he squints in thought for a moment.
“So…the bracers made you get big too?”
“I mean, I think maybe they unlocked something in me? Or something…” She trails off at the thought of how this power found her. This power straight out of Faerie legends – the ability to grow large enough to walk among the big people, to keep one’s home and family safe. It’s a dream come true, she thinks, but what a horrible price she’s had to pay for it. Three more of her friends gone, never to realize dreams of their own. Thimble shakes off the thought with a sniff and instead boasts, “The bracers make me strong, but getting big, that’s my magic. And I can do that anytime I want.”
“Really?” Occtis’s eyes light up and erase most of the guilt she feels in an instant.
She giggles. “Excited about that, are you?”
“I mean, I…really like you this way of course. Like, as in, just—” he stammers to a stop and she patiently waits for him to get his thought out, but he just moves on to the next one instead. “But it was really nice to…”
That thought he doesn’t need to finish, because it’s the same one that’s been on her mind since last night. It was really nice to get to hug you. Finally.
Finally she’d gotten to hug Occtis, because of Teor, who’d left those bracers for her. Because of Teor, who’d saved her, not even two weeks ago.
“Easy, little one,” the nama’s soothing voice told her as she woke. But nothing came easy when they told her the plan had failed. Not her breath, not her heartbeat, not flying, not remembering what had happened.
Nothing until the strange man at Teor’s side waved a hand in front of his own face and it turned into Occtis’s. He looked so sad and so concerned, so guilt-ridden and lost, but just for a moment it made everything better just to see him. For one single second, the easiest smile came to her lips just from being in his presence after such a long time away.
Then everything went right back to being terrible and hard. She could barely process any of it, could barely think or even listen. She felt Occtis’s eyes on her and ached to just fall into his gentle hands and hide from the rest of them until it all went away. When Kattigan appeared and went to work on trying to figure out what had happened after she’d fallen, Thimble finally stopped resisting the urge.
Teor, Azune, Kattigan—they were all her brothers, all part of the family she’d made with Thjazi in the Torn Banner. She loved them, truly. But she needed the friend who’d reminded her of her youth and innocence, if ever that had existed. She needed the one person who’d never needed her to be strong and fearless.
She flew up onto the young man’s shoulder, and Occtis reached immediately to comfort her. She held onto his finger as his thumb caressed her arm, and she wished so deeply and urgently – not for the first time nor the last – that that wasn’t all they could do to find comfort.
How nice would it be, she thought, to simply collapse in each other’s arms while the rest of the world disappeared.
“Yeah. Yeah, it was really nice,” Thimble says, suddenly missing the way that long-overdue hug had felt. Suddenly, desperately, needing not to be in a cave with all their friends. She flutters up in front of his face and gestures outside. “Come on.”
Thimble doesn’t wait for him to agree or get up. She knows he’ll follow, and he does, with Pin trailing lazily behind. Tintazi Wood greets them as she flies ahead of him out of the cave without looking back. It’s definitely nearing midday, but the forest keeps the sun from shining too bright or hot down on them as they wander in the direction of Lake Nahami.
Thimble takes a moment to look around at the forest in the light of day. In just a little while, they’ll move on from here, down the Miller’s Road and back to work fighting for all their assorted causes and goals, but for now she just soaks in the beauty and the magic with Occtis at her side. They’d all come together and created something so gorgeous. Whether they’d meant to or not – whether Thjazi had planned for it or not – is up for debate, but they’d all played their parts and the result is quite literally restoring life to her. It will be a shame to leave, but just knowing such a place exists is a comfort.
As is the presence of the anxious undead man following just behind her. Thimble turns to face him, and she can’t be sure, but for an instant it looks like the forest and the proximity to the Faerie magic of the anchor is giving him some life as well. Maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s the way the sun shines across his face. Maybe it’s the smile that lights his eyes again as they meet hers. Whatever the cause of that apparent spark of life within him, she’s grateful she’s the one person lucky enough to see it right now.
“Good thing they took that out of me…” Occtis mutters almost subconsciously as his eyes drift away again, looking around at the foliage, and Thimble cocks her head in confused amusement.
“Excuse me?”
He shakes his head. “Oh. Nothing. Just…I was thinking about the Stone. The Stone of Nightsong, that Vaelus destroyed. It…it was part of the ritual, when they…when they killed me. Ethrand, he…replaced my heart with it.” He sighs mid-ramble before picking up speed. “And then Murray and Bolaire got it out when they brought me back and then I think it almost killed me again when Vaelus destroyed it. But the point is….I’m glad it’s not being wasted on me. Glad it’s doing its job here.”
Well that explains it, Thimble thinks. Whatever connection remained between him and the stone, even after it was removed, must be giving him the same magical life-restoring boon it’s giving her. Thimble can’t quite wrap her head around it, can’t put into words how it feels to know that this thing she’d stolen only for it to be used to replace his heart is now sundered and yet still doing a miracle for them in these woods.
So instead she just shakes her head fondly and agrees, “No. It’s definitely not being wasted.”
They move in silence to the lake shore then linger there for a while, watching the sparkling ripples lash against the rocks in a gentle rhythm as Pin chases a couple iridescent butterflies nearby. It’s oddly comfortable just to be there together, still and quiet, but eventually Thimble draws his eyes again and smirks at him playfully.
“What?” Occtis asks, dubious but amused.
She flies up about a foot in front of him and reaches out. “Hold my hand?”
He raises an eyebrow but reaches up slowly. “Sure about that?”
Thimble nods as his huge thumb and forefinger close around her entire hand so gently she can hardly feel it.
“Always. I trust you,” she whispers, then clears her throat when she realizes it somehow got choked up. “Now. Close your eyes.”
Occtis sighs in that way he always does when she’s asking him to do something he wouldn’t do himself but he knows he can’t say no, and of course he closes his shining green eyes for whatever she’s planning. Thimble smiles to herself, then leans her head down to peck the tiniest kiss to his knuckle. She straightens up again and, after a second to just look at him, makes a silent wish.
In an instant she’s standing in front of him, and her hand takes up the whole of his. Occtis’s eyes shoot back open at the sudden sensation of weight in his hand, widening when they see her at human size once again, and he laughs in surprise and delight. Thimble thinks it might be her favorite sound, even though it’s quickly drowned out by Pin yipping at her in confusion and agitation.
“Oh, hush over there!” she tells the fox, not looking away from Occtis, who stares wide-eyed as he tries to take in all of her for the first time in the light of day. “We’re having a moment.”
Occtis shakes himself out of his awed reverie and mutters an apology on Pin’s behalf. “Sorry about—I can try to put him away…”
“It’s alright. He’s just gonna have to get used to this,” Thimble says, still holding Occtis’s hand and twisting back and forth on one heel, almost spinning to give him a full look at her in this form but never quite turning all the way around.
“That makes two of us…” he mutters under his non-breath when she stops her twirling and laces their fingers together, her warm digits threading through his cold ones and sending a welcome chill up her arm and down her spine.
Before either of them can think too hard about it, she turns and drags him a little farther along the lake shore until she finds a suitable spot to sit down, never letting go of his hand. He offers no objections. If anything, it almost feels like he’s clinging to her, afraid to let go lest she fly away from him again. Thimble has no intention of doing so, not now, but she’s not going to complain. She’ll hold his hand forever if it means never being afraid of losing him again.
Occtis lets her pull him down to sit on the soft sand and gravel at the edge of the lake, and he stays silent when she takes his hand into her lap and begins to study it. She laughs to herself for a second as she touches the familiar lines of his palm. His hands aren’t small by any means, but compared to the way she’s used to them – the way they’ve held her whole self in just the palm when she was tired or he wanted to get a closer look at her or she just needed somewhere to sit as they talked – they seem so…normal, now. Not insignificant, not by a long shot. But comforting in their commonness.
He catches on to the laughter when she reaches across him and raises both his left hand and her right and presses their palms together. Her fingertips don’t quite meet the ends of his, but it’s close enough that he chuckles at how even they are now.
“So weird…” Thimble mumbles, and he hums in agreement but his attention drifts down to her wrist and forearm.
One of the Bracers of Oak and Birch gleams in the sunlight as he furrows his brow to study it, a familiar sign of his scientific curiosity and interest in magic. She holds her arm out in front of him, turning it over slowly so he can see it from all angles.
Occtis starts to speak, then hesitates, but finally asks, “Can I touch?”
His voice is so soft she hardly hears it, but she nods.
“Of course,” she breathes.
Occtis's hands slowly reach up, his left holding her wrist oh so gently and his right ghosting over the bracer's intricate patterns and textures. He turns her arm over and back a couple of times, studying every inch, then takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, the new green glow to them has intensified, taking over his pupils and sclera and almost giving off light of their own.
Thimble isn't sure what sort of magic he's doing as he tries to study and sense the arcane enchantment within her new equipment, but watching him makes the side of her mouth curl into a fond grin. It's a bit creepy, the way he does it – more than a bit weird – but that's Occtis through and through and she loves it. Always has. And it's especially gratifying to see how adept he is now, to see that all his years of hard work learning the magic that had come so effortlessly to his family has paid off.
That same magic that's so terrifying and threatening in the rest of his family's hands only seems impressive in Occtis's. It seems only—
“Fascinating…” he says, finishing her own thought. He closes his eyes again and they return to the new normal when they reopen. Occtis doesn't get into what he sensed through his magical attempt to learn more, just looks her in the eye and asks, “How do you feel?”
Thimble pulls her arm back to herself and chuckles again, flexing her fingers and focusing on the rush of magic that seems to always be rippling just under her skin now.
“How do I feel? Fucking strong! I mean, you know I’ve always been a badass, but this is unreal huh?” She elbows him playfully and he laughs as she goes on to flex her arms, which, in reality, haven't changed shape much relative to the rest of her, but nonetheless feel powerful to a frankly ridiculous degree. “You look so small now, though; how do you feel?”
She snickers at her own cheeky joke, but her smile fades immediately when Occtis’s face flashes with something startling. She knows the sudden look of fear all too well, the child-like reaction to a moment or a thought of something terrible. She’s seen it on his face far too many times.
She'd been keeping an eye out, ever since they'd heard the Tachonis clan had arrived in Dol-Makjar for the summer. As much as she could during the day, tirelessly at night. Watching out for the sign from the smallest window in the tower of the horrible castle known as Obrimus Manor, waiting for a signal from the youngest and most forgotten Tachonis.
She waited only two days before it appeared, the faint candlelight only just visible from her and Thjazi's hideout half a dozen blocks away in the Tanners. Thimble wasted no time flying over, sparing only a shouted apology at Thaz as she took off. He'd understand. He knew how diligently she'd been watching.
She couldn't even see him when she reached the window with the candle. In the past, he'd been waiting for her eagerly there when she arrived, but this time she had to fly all the way in, looking around before finding him sitting in the corner with his knees pulled to his chest and his head buried in them.
Thimble flew down to his level, a few feet in front of him, and tried to whisper so as not to startle him.
"Occtis?"
His head whipped up, and the first glimpse of his tear-soaked face startled her so deeply she had to take a second to shake it off. He looked so small, so young and scared, like he'd been when they met, despite the five years that had passed since that day in the Orchard.
Something was very wrong.
"You came…"
"Of course," she said as she flew down to land on his arms, crossed in front of his knees. "What happened?"
Occtis sniffed and twisted his head to swipe his eyes and nose against his own shoulder.
"Nothing, it…i-it was just Ethrand…" he said, his teenaged voice breaking and creaking as he tried to gain his composure. "He told me about these things in the basement where they…where my…."
He choked up and sputtered to a stop, and Thimble moved to put her hand on his cheek, keeping it there until he managed to calm down and take a deep breath.
"Hey. It's okay," she whispered to him as he began to breathe steadily again. "Do you want me to go find that little punk? Huh? Give him a nice poke?"
She took out her needle and brandished it with a smirk, and finally Occtis cracked a smile and let out the tiniest laugh.
"Thanks, but no…" he said. "That would definitely get me thrown in one of these things…."
Thimble's face scrunched in confusion, then gave way to horror as Occtis described what Ethrand had been teasing him about – though 'teasing' was clearly not strong enough a word for it. The older boy had told Occtis of the oubliettes beneath the Manor, deep dark dungeons apparently reserved for those rare Tachonis family members who dared to betray the family. A place for someone to be put away and forgotten, forever.
Ethrand had implied that that was where Occtis would end up because of his inability to perform the magic the rest of them could, and Thimble felt her Faerie blood run hot with rage at the cruelty. There was nothing Occtis could do about his lack of sorcery, but even she knew his loyalty to his family couldn't be questioned. If anything, that lack had only strengthened his resolve to be more connected to them. She'd never been able to fathom why that was, when they treated him so terribly, but it wasn't her place to tell him how to feel about it.
"That's not going to happen. You hear me, Occtis?" she tried to assure him. "Ethrand's just being a piece of shit as usual."
"It might. You never know what they might think is a betrayal. I-I shouldn't have even put up the signal for you, but I needed…." His bloodshot eyes looked to her suddenly, the fear renewed. "Thimble, if they find out you're here—"
She cut him off with a scoff and an unbothered wave of her hand. "How are they gonna know? I'm sneaky as fuck."
She crossed her arms in front of herself confidently, hoping to make him laugh again. But it had no effect. The worry stuck fast to his face and refused to leave.
"Yeah…" he agreed, half-heartedly.
Her every attempt for the next ten minutes failed as well, and in the end his fear of her getting caught overruled her desire to help and she left him feeling only marginally better than when she'd arrived. She flew away feeling hopeless, feeling angry, feeling that if she'd only been able to embrace him and let him cry on her shoulder, everything might have been different.
The look on the face of a terrified boy haunted her when she slept for days afterward.
Thimble tries not to physically shudder at the memory of seeing that same look on his face on one of the last times she'd been to Obrimus Manor before last night. She reaches for his hand and holds it between her own, squeezing it in quiet support until he comes back to the present himself and explains his sudden change in demeanor.
“How do I feel?…I died at the hands of my own brother in a failed ritual to turn me into an angel of death meant to destroy your home. And last night I watched my father kill a man I respected with a single word, in the courtyard of our home…which I then had to immediately leave you behind in to possibly die….” He shudders and sniffs but, notably, doesn't shed a tear even as he looks up at her with that helpless little boy's face. “Safe to say I don’t feel quite as strong.”
Thimble doesn't even wait for the ironic, self-depricating chuckle that's sure to follow the comment. She just throws her arms around his neck – the way she's always wished she could do – and holds on. She cradles his head against her collarbone and buries her face in his hair as her own tears threaten to leak. He seems to sink into her despite the awkward way his spine is bent and clings to her strong arms as best as he can while she subtly rocks him.
“It’s okay," she whispers, trying to convince herself as well as him. "I’m strong enough for the both of us. And you’re smart enough. Right?” She lifts her head and strokes his hair as he gives the slightest nod. “What was it you told me? 'We’re gonna make it right.' We are.”
“I know,” he says, so flatly she can't tell if he really agrees or if he's just saying what he's supposed to.
Thimble loosens her grip on his neck and he slowly sits back up, but their hands find each other again and thread together. She watches him squeeze his eyes shut in a long, slow blink and can't help but notice how still the rest of him is even though his mind must be racing through all his fears and worries.
“You know, I said I liked that you can still get flustered and that’s true," she tells him, "but you really do seem calmer now. Even when you're scared.”
Occtis hums. “Well, things…don’t quite work the same. Now that I’m, you know…”
He uses his free hand to gesture at himself and Thimble's heart breaks all over again for him. It's not as if she's forgotten even for a moment that he's technically dead – his ice cold hand in hers is enough of a reminder – but it's easier to overlook it when they're smiling together. When he's following her around all day 'just in case' anything happens to her, when he's doing some creepy magic to keep her protected, when he's looking at her like she's the only thing in the world that ever mattered.
It's easy to let it slip from her mind, then, just how close she was to losing him forever too.
“I’m so sorry, Occtis,” she says, so full of pain and regret that it almost comes out as a whine. “I should’ve been there.”
Immediately he shakes his head.
“No. The last thing I would’ve wanted was for you to see that.” His gaze finally meets her sad eyes and softens at the sight of her own inner turmoil. He gives a half-smile and nudges her with his elbow. “Plus…if you hadn’t gone to Sloak, who would’ve killed Casimir? Wicander?”
Thimble barks with laughter at the unexpected quip and has to cover her mouth to keep from cackling.
“Definitely not,” she says with a giggle and shakes her head at the memory of Wick screaming for help in the middle of Castle Sloak. “He’s not so bad though, really. Once you get to know him.”
“If you say so,” he agrees. She knows he's still not fully convinced, but he trusts her judgement. And Wick's story of going to the Manor when he realized she was in trouble – only to come face to face with his murderous father – has surely gone a long way with Occtis. “I suppose I don’t have any room to talk, anyway. If you’d judged me based on my family without getting to know me….well. Who knows where I’d be now.”
It's a bittersweet thought, but it's accompanied by a sweet smile, so Thimble smiles back at him with all the affection in her body and ignores the bitter entirely. She squeezes his hand before hugging his whole arm to her and resting her head on his shoulder, smiling wider still when she feels his head come to rest on top of hers.
“Best choice I ever made,” she declares, but Occtis guffaws.
"I very much doubt there weren't—"
Her hand shoots up to place a shushing finger to his lips.
"Shut up, I already said it."
She said it and she means it. Thimble never had much of a choice in making any of her other friends – they were Thjazi's friends first, or they were fellow faeries, or they weren't her friends at all but rather business associates or other useful people. But Occtis? He was hers. And he was intentional.
And the only regret she has ever had about befriending him is that she had abandoned him for so long.
The first glimpse of him stopped her in midair, causing Thjazi to walk right into her. But she didn't believe her eyes until she looked a second time, and there he was. All the way across the sparkling pond in the middle of the quad, sitting by himself against a tree, looking so alone it immediately made her ache with that always-useless desire to hug him.
Thimble hadn't seen Occtis in three long years, but the instinct to ditch Thjazi on their way to visit Murray for whatever super important business it was suddenly felt much more super important.
"Thimble, what the—"
"Thaz, look…"
She pointed across to Occtis. He was wrapped up in the book he was reading, completely unaware of them. Studying, no doubt. Expanding that already big brain of his.
"Oh, shit. Well, what do you know?" Thjazi said with a chuckle. "He looks right at home, doesn't he?"
Thimble turned quickly around to shoot her partner a look. "You think?"
Thaz shrugged. "I think the only thing that'd make him more wizard-looking is having a big ol' hat. Should we get him a big ol' hat?"
"No, we…." she trailed off and looked over at the distant Occtis again. Was it really that he looked so lonely, or was it just that she missed him? Unfortunately it didn't matter much either way. They had places to be, and ever since he'd helped Occtis get into the Penteveral, Thjazi had stressed the need to give him space. To let him live his life on his own terms, free of both his family and obvious connections to known criminals.
Suddenly feeling heavy with regret, she landed on Thjazi's shoulder as he started to walk away again. He could sense her worry, though, and lowered his voice below the din of the foot traffic on the path around them.
“I can have Murray check in on him, let us know how he’s doing,” he suggested. “If you want.”
Thimble just continued to stare over at the boy – the young man, now – under the tree. After a moment, he looked up from his book as if hearing a familiar voice, as if sensing a friendly presence on the wind. His eyes searched around the quad, but they never quite landed on her or Thjazi as they left.
Occtis returned his attention to his book again like nothing had happened, and Thimble could only sigh.
“No, it’s…you're right, Thaz," she muttered. "I’m sure he’s okay.”
He's right at home and he doesn’t need me, she thought. He’s okay.
If only she believed it. If only believing it would make it easier.
The memory stings, even more so because it seems that Occtis's mind is on those lost years as well. He's extra quiet and still for a minute before he sits up slightly and gives his head a hard shake, almost as if he's reprimanding himself.
Thimble sits up to look at him. “What?”
He stares at their hands clasped together in her lap, fingers intertwined. His thumb strokes hers ever so softly and she's not sure he's even doing it on purpose, he's so focused on choosing his words.
“There’s so much going on and all of it is…terrible and scary," he says, his voice distant and hoarse. "And for a while last night I thought…I was gonna have to face it all without you and I almost….”
He closes his eyes for several seconds and Thimble takes the opportunity to shift her body to be more face-to-face with him. When he opens his eyes again, they search her face just like they'd searched for her that day on the quad.
She stares back at him and rubs gentle circles on the back of his hand as she prompts him, "You almost…?"
"I almost fell apart," he confesses breathlessly, and immediately she frowns, but Occtis laughs and shakes his head. “But I should’ve known. I should’ve known you wouldn’t give up and you’d find a way through.”
Despite the lightness of his tone, his words hit her with the weight of a warhammer. What if she hadn't found her way through? What if she hadn't been so lucky? She could very easily have died and the last thing she said to him would have been a direct betrayal. She'd promised him she'd leave if things got bad, but instead she'd flown right back into the dark without him.
More than any wound she's taken in any of her recent battles, it hurts to know that she hasn't earned this faith he has in her. She'd left him alone for years and he wasn't okay, and then she nearly left him to fall apart without her.
She has to earn that faith. She must.
Thimble reaches out both hands to hold his face on either side and leans in until her forehead rests against his own.
“I promise you, Occtis. From now on I will always do whatever I can to make it back to you," she swears. "I will not leave you alone here again, you don't have to fall apart.”
Occtis lets out a sigh almost like a laugh and moves his hands to her wrists, holding onto the bracers that make her so strong of body but still have work to do on her spirit.
“No, Thimble. Don't you understand? I’m not worried about that,” Occtis whispers, then pulls away from her grip so he can look her in the eye. “Because if you ever have to fly back into the dark again…I’ll be right behind you.”
Before Thimble has a chance to react, an adorable Yip! of agreement comes from the fox beside them.
"So will Pin," Occtis adds with a grin, and Thimble can't help but fall into his arms then, laughing and then crying and not really able to articulate why she's done either one.
Occtis just holds her, and there against his cold body she can't help but think of the night she'd slept atop Thjazi's cool chest. Pin had been there at his feet the whole night, keeping an eye on her, which means Occtis had been keeping an eye on her. She'd taken it for granted then, but she doesn't now, as Occtis holds her and Pin comes to nuzzle against her leg and settle in beside her. The two of them, so comforting, so steady and reliable. Her anchors now, just like the night of Thjazi's funeral.
She remembers looking at Occtis that night and seeing him so clearly, so differently, it was like seeing him for the first time.
"You grew up…"
His smile could almost have convinced her that nothing in the world was wrong.
"I guess, so did you. Although you're not any bigger."
But she is bigger now. And it dawns on her suddenly that the way she'd looked at him in that moment feels just like how he's been looking at her since she'd grown to his size.
Like everything is new. Like anything is possible.
Thimble lifts her head from Occtis's chest and looks into his glowing eyes. He stares for a moment before making a conscious decision to blink, then slowly raises his hand and leaves it just a breath away from her cheek.
"Can I…?"
His request is quieter than a whisper, and Thimble knows there's no other possible answer than the one he seeks, even though it makes no sense on the surface. Everything about him, on the surface, has been a danger to her for as long as she's known him. Even before he'd learned to wield the deathly magic of his house, one careless move from him could have crushed her tiny body in a second.
But she's never been afraid – not even for a moment – that Occtis would ever hurt her.
“Of course. I trust you,” she whispers as she takes his wrist and guides his hand the rest of the way to her cheek. “You’ve always been so gentle.”
“You’ve always been so…precious,” Occtis says, and she can't help but raise a sassy eyebrow.
“Precious?”
“Beautiful.” Her breath leaves her in a gasp. “Special.”
Thimble feels her heart trip over itself in her chest, then begin fluttering as fast as her wings when she hovers. She has no idea what to say, what to think. She only knows that she wants.
She’s wanted for so long, when it comes to Occtis. Wanted to hold his hand, to hug him, to have him hold her in his arms, not just his hands. And now she's gotten all she's ever wanted, but it's not enough.
She wants one more thing, but she doesn’t have to want for long. For the first time, she can want something only once before being allowed to have it. Because he’s right there, and he wants her too. And she’s just the right size to give them both what they want.
She leans in and kisses him, like it's the easiest thing in the world, and she thinks it might be. She presses her warm lips against his cold mouth and thinks it might as well be what she was brought into this world to do. And it is slightly odd, of course, because it's Occtis, and he's dead. But that could never in a million years dampen the way her heart soars. So many other factors are threatening to do that, so many other fears are just on the horizon of her mind, but for a moment, everything is perfect.
Thimble leans her face against his, threads her fingers through his hair, and shakes her head.
“How can I feel so lucky when so much has gone wrong?” she whispers, and Occtis gives a laugh against her skin.
“If you figure it out, let me know.”
She lifts her head to look at him, right at home in the smile on his face. “Maybe it’s our sign to keep going.”
He grins wider. “Silver lining?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Light at the edge of the shadows.”
Occtis nods. “Sounds good to me.”
Thimble stares at him, the boy from the house of darkness and death who's brought so much light and joy to her life. So much has happened over the past weeks and so many more threads are yet to unravel as they continue on their path, but she knows as long as Occtis is there, none of it will be as scary as it could be. Now whenever it's scary she can reach out and hold his hand, and when he gets overwhelmed he can fall into her arms. And at the end of it all, she's going to have to rebuild her life entirely, but as long as Occtis is there…that new life doesn't seem so bleak.
She begins to lean in to kiss him again, but an obnoxious voice calls out—
“Excuse me!” Sir Julien shouts petulantly from thirty yards up the shore line. “Are we not traveling today? Can we get on the fucking road already?”
Thimble rolls her eyes and pulls slightly away but doesn't move from where she's held practically in Occtis's lap.
"Thaz, please tell this prick I need a minute, would you?" she calls out, and here where the veil is thin, Julien's shadow reaches up and tugs his arm back in the direction of the cavern.
"What the—"
"Thank yooouuu," Thimble sings. "We'll be right there!"
Occtis just laughs as they watch Julien get dragged away. "Shame that won't work everywhere."
"I know. But this will." Thimble kisses him again, long and sweet. Not long enough, really, but she's content to know it won't be the last time. Then she stands and holds out her hand for him. "Now, come on. We’ve got work to do."
Occtis takes her hand and lets her pull him to his feet, ready to follow wherever she wants him to go, just like he's always been.
"Lead the way."