Search for Alexander the King

There were too many of them. The soldiers had fucked up, had stayed out in the woods too late, and now, they were surrounded by undead. Thimble’s Faerie Fire had slowed a few of them, but as the swarm continued to bear down on the group, there was only so much she could do. “Tyranny! Look out!” Thimble sped over to bury her rapier in the eye of the monster sneaking up on her friend. Tyranny wrestled with another, throwing it to ground just in time to see Thimble’s attack. Before she could utter a thanks, another undead took advantage of the pixie’s distraction to grab her from its comrade’s face. The rattle of a ghostly breath was Thimble’s only warning before something snagged her from behind. One decaying hand gripped her body while the other dug its nails into the base of her wings and tugged, desperately trying to claim the glittering, lively material for itself. Thimble screamed as she felt a horrible, searing pain tear down her back. A flash of pink crossed her vision as Tyranny’s claws slashed the undead’s face, causing it to rear back, opening its fists and dropping Thimble to the ground. Thimble crashed through the underbrush, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. From up above, through the grass and fallen leaves blocking her view, she heard Tyranny shout for her. “Thimble?! Thimble, you alright?!” The pixie took a moment to recover before pushing herself off the ground with shaky arms. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” she managed to call out over the ringing in her ears. The pain made her vision swirl but Thimble was sure she could shake it off once she caught her breath. She’d been through worse before. Once she finally pushed her way through the leaves back into the open, another cry filled the air as one of the monsters sank its teeth into the side of Wick’s neck. “WICK!” Tyranny shouted as she ran to help him. Thimble leapt up to fly after her, but instead was hit with a near-blinding agony as she collapsed to the ground. She laid there with gasping breaths. Peeking over her shoulder, Thimble’s heart dropped as she saw her wings. The undead’s claws had torn halfway down the upper appendages, leaving one in long shreds with the other mostly together but barely hanging on by mere strings of chitin, both dyed deep red at the bases. Her eyes stayed frozen on the sight, until Teor’s voice rang through her shock. “Everyone! Fall back!” The nama held a limp Wick in his arms, the lion’s head on his belt glowing with magic as the healing spell took effect. Kattigan stabbed an undead before grabbing Tyranny’s arm. “Run! Now!” “Wait! Wait!” Thimble shouted, her voice unheard through the distance and the chaos. She dodged out of the way as an undead’s worn boot landed beside her, the monster giving chase to the rest of the group. She grabbed a large leaf, holding it over her head to keep out of sight of the monsters as she ran towards her retreating friends. Without her flight, there was no way for the little pixie to keep up. “Teor! Kattigan!” She pumped her legs as hard as she could, her lungs burning with exertion. “Tyranny! Please! Wait-” her foot caught on a root sticking out of the ground, sending her careening to the hard forest floor. She grunted in pain as she lifted her head to see her fellow soldiers disappear over the hills, followed closely by the hoard. “No…” Thimble breathed out as her head dropped. She closed her eyes, biting back tears. The pain rolled through her in pulses as she laid there in misery. A headache pounded against her skull as her thoughts fought to be heard over the ringing in her ears. She had been left behind. They left her. She couldn’t fly. She couldn’t heal herself. She was left behind. She was alone- The hoot of an owl overhead shook her out of her stupor. Her eyes shot up to look at the trees. Even if her wings were working, an owl or any number of birds of prey could snatch her up if she wasn’t quick enough. Without her wings, she was practically being served on a silver platter. The canopy towered over her tiny body in almost unfathomable height. It wasn’t often that Thimble got a view of how truly little she was in this world. She wasn’t a person right now; she was prey. The wound on her back burned with a necrotic magic, slowly gnawing at both her body and mind as it threatened to overtake her thoughts with a primal fear - that of a hunted animal. Thimble fought back against the infection as hard as she could. She was a warrior. A creature of magic, of life. She could beat this. She had to. Swallowing the pain and fear as best she could, Thimble focused on what she could do now. Taking deep, shaky breaths, she tried to remember what Thjazi had taught her. Panic would accomplish nothing - she needed a goal. A goal would get her through the night, would keep away these emotions swirling around in her heart. Something to focus on would keep her on her feet. A grounded pixie was a sitting duck. So much of her fighting relied on her flying. She’s fairly sure she could hold her own against creatures closer to her size, rats and squirrels and the like, but if a wolf got its mind set on having her for a snack, she’s not sure what she could do to stop it with only a fraction of her usual mobility. Pushing herself to her knees, Thimble crawled to a nearby tree, huddling against its base for some modicum of shelter. First things first, she needed to check her wings. She ignored the throbbing pain as she reached her arms behind her, eyes closed as she ran her hands over the broken appendages. Feeling where the cuts tore through the chitin made Thimble’s stomach flip, but she kept on, running her fingers carefully over the blood-soaked material. The left one had been sliced through down the length of the wing, leaving long strips that were thankfully still attached to her back, though disconnected from each other. The right one seemed to be in one piece, though that piece was torn almost completely off its base. Awful damage, but nothing that couldn’t be healed, as long as she didn’t lose any pieces. Small blessings. She didn’t have any medical supplies on her, but she could work with what she had. Looking around, Thimble sliced a few thick blades of grass from the ground. They were almost as tall as she was and about as wide as her hand. After washing them off as well as she could with a bit of water from her supply, Thimble held the grass in one hand as she reached back with the other. Grabbing the right wing, which had miraculously managed not to fall off, she held it up to where it would normally connect to her back. One section of the grass went over the tear as Thimble wrapped the plant around herself, tying the wings in place. It would have been better to try to position the left one too, but Thimble couldn’t hold both and the grass at the same time, and the nearly disconnected right wing was the priority. The grass held the appendages tight against her back so they couldn’t get further damaged, covering both them and the bleeding wound. Thimble couldn’t get her top off in this condition, so the wraps went over that as well. It wasn’t perfect; the feeling of her wings being compressed under the wrappings was uncomfortable at best, but it was certainly better than nothing. Hopefully it would be enough to last until morning. That was her goal: make it through the night. She just had to handle things until the others came back, and they would come back. They would. They had to. Right? Back on her feet, Thimble took out her rapier, stabbing it through a leaf laying nearby. Lifting it up, she held the hilt of her sword like the handle of an umbrella, the leaf covering her head and hopefully camouflaging her from any birds of prey flying above. With her toy sword at the ready for any threats on the ground, Thimble started the long trek towards the direction her friends went. If they weren’t coming to get her, she’d just have to get to them. With the glow of her pixie dust dimmed, Thimble focused only on putting one foot in front of the other, gritting her teeth as her head swirled. The toy sword she brandished eventually dropped from its attentive position, instead being used as a sort of walking stick to support her when her body felt heavy. Thimble kept moving, no matter what. Even as the grass threatened to trip her up, even as she drifted in and out of awareness, Thimble kept moving. She had to. Her legs shook as she struggled to remember how long she had been walking for. It felt like nothing and eternity at the same time. Even without the undead’s poison slowly draining her, her exhaustion was nearly overwhelming. One foot in front of the other, she kept telling herself, just a little longer. Every step forward was another step towards safety. Another step towards getting healed so she could finish slaying every son of a bitch on her list and make everything right again. If it could ever be right again. These thoughts played on loop for what seemed to be hours, at least long enough for the lighting of the forest to shift, until they were overshadowed by a tense sensation running up the back of the pixie’s neck. Thimble’s breathing stopped. She knew this feeling anywhere; something was watching her. Her heart sank as, at the edge of her hearing, a quiet hissing drew ever closer. Her grip on the hilt of her sword tightened as Thimble whipped around, narrowly dodging the strike of the snake that had snuck up behind her. She swung her heavy toy sword at the creature, just slightly missing with the sharp edge and instead knocking the side of the snake’s head with the blunt of the blade. It hissed again as it shook off the attack, rearing back to strike at the little pixie. Thimble jumped out of the way, instinctively trying to flap her wings only to stumble back down, her rapier falling onto the ground nearby. The snake took the opportunity to curl around her body, squeezing the air from her lungs as it stared, almost mockingly, at her struggle. One arm was pinned to her side, the other reaching desperately for her fallen sword. Her muscles burned as the pressure grew. Her fingers brushed the hilt of the rapier, just slightly nudging it towards her as dark blotches spotted the sides of her vision. Just as her face began to turn blue, Thimble managed to grab the sword, stabbing the needle’s edge between the scales of the predator. The snake let out a rattling shriek as it unraveled around her. Refusing to let its prey escape, the creature struck again. The clang of its teeth against the pixie’s sword seemed to ring through the forest. The attacks ran in quick succession, not giving the pixie any time to reciprocate as all her focus went to blocking the bites. Eventually, Thimble found enough of an opening to slice the creature’s gums, causing it to pull back just long enough for her to put her rapier through its eye. The needle-sword was pulled from her grasp as the snake shook its head in agony. Grabbing her toy sword, Thimble leapt onto the snake’s back, running up and burying the blade into the base of its head. After a shriek, the snake fell limp to the ground. Thimble stabbed the top of its head one more time for good measure. Retrieving both of her swords from the corpse, the pixie stepped back, smiling for just a moment in victory before dropping it and sinking to her knees. The adrenaline drained out of her, leaving the little soldier with nothing. With slow, heavy breaths, she dragged herself to a mossy rock, leaning against the soft bed of green. With any luck, her clothes would camouflage her enough from any other creepy crawlies. How long had it been? Thimble still had no idea where her friends were, seeing no sign of them as she traveled. Were they looking for her, or had they already moved on, heading to the next town? Thimble took a drink of water from her nearly empty canteen, trying to sooth her dry mouth and pounding head. How much longer could she go? Her supplies wouldn’t last forever. Thimble looked up to the rising sun with tired eyes. She could feel warmth down her back as the blood started to seep through the makeshift bandages. She looked back to the snake’s body crumpled on the ground. For all of her pride, she couldn’t convince herself that she’d survive another encounter like that. Why hadn’t the others come back yet? With no one around to see it, tears fell down her cheeks, just slightly washing away some of the dirt and grime covering her face. She wondered if the others had even noticed she was gone yet. Thimble felt a pang in her chest. She used to be somebody’s number 1. Thjazi never would have forgotten her. Thimble choked on her sobs, both at the memory of her friend and at that word. Forgotten. That’s what she was. She had been left behind. When it was just her and Thjazi, she always had a place by his side. She would do anything for him, and he would do anything for her. But now Thjazi’s gone, and Thimble was left to pick up the pieces. She couldn’t blame the others. They each had their person. Tyranny and Wick were a package deal, never separated. Thimble wasn’t sure what kind of weird-exes-thing Teor and Kattigan had going on, but they were clearly very close. Tyranny was like a daughter to Kattigan. Teor owed a life debt to Wick. All four of them were close-knit in one way or another, so it made sense to Thimble that she’d get lost in the fray. There were just too many of them. The group was too big… and Thimble was too small. A feeling of helplessness overtook the pixie as cold dread rushed through her veins. She was going to die. After everything. Every battle she’s won. Every life she’s saved and ended. She was going to die, cold and alone on the unforgiving forest floor. There was nothing for her to do but wait. Either to bleed out or to be attacked again. She waited for the hiss of another snake, or the growl of a wolf, or the cry of a hawk. All beasts to her now, tiny and weak and broken on the ground. She had always been tiny, but she had never felt it quite like this. Instead, she heard something else. A distant crunch of footsteps, but they didn’t sound quite like an animal’s. Then, “Thimble?!” Someone called her name. Thimble opened her eyes (she hadn’t realized they were closed). The call came again, “Thimble?!” Tyranny! Her friend was looking for her! Thimble did her best to sit up against the rock, desperately trying to gather enough energy to get the demon’s attention. “Tyran-” the first call was broken and raspy. Thimble cleared her throat, trying again. “Tyranny!” The pixie tried to get her glow to brighten as she struggled to pull herself to her feet. “Over here! Tyranny!” Finally, the pink demon came into view. Tyranny frantically glanced up in the trees to spot her winged friend. She thought she heard Thimble’s voice. Her eyes were drawn downward to a sparkling little light. “Thimble!” Tyranny rushed over to the rock Thimble was leaning against, thanking a deity she doesn’t follow that the pixie was okay. Her eyes were rimmed red as she dropped down to her knees in front of her. “Thimble I am so sorry! Wick was hurt and Kattigan was pulling me away and I thought you were with us and there was just so much going on and- and…” Tyranny cut off her rambling apology as the pixie just stared up at her. The fact that she hadn’t fluttered up off the ground yet was worrying. “Thimble… you are okay… right?” Thimble smiled at the demon as the last of her energy leaked out of her. “You came back.” Tyranny’s eyes softened, “Of course.” She brought her hand next to her little friend, “Are you-“ Before she could finish the question, Thimble’s knees buckled and she collapsed, her fall cushioned by Tyranny’s palm as she caught her. The demon’s eyes widened as the pixie went unconscious. “Oh, oh, oh,” Tyranny winced as she scooped Thimble up as gently as she could. She saw the dark red blood coloring the little back and ran her fingers over the grass wrapping curiously. Her eyebrows knit together in concern at the crumpled-looking wing tips peeking out from under them. A slight light caught her eye, reflecting off of the small swords laying not far from the rock. Tyranny picked them up, taking note of the blood coating them. She followed the small red trail to a dead snake. She looked back to Thimble, worrying her lip as she put the pieces together in her mind. Holding Thimble securely against her chest, Tyranny started making her way (🎶) back to the rest of the group. Occasionally, she stole glances at the tiny soldier in her grasp. Whatever happened to her, they could fix it. They had to. Back where they had set up camp, Teor was practically carving a trench into the dirt with his pacing. With the panic still flooding his mind, and a slight chance that Thimble might return looking for them, Teor stayed behind while the others went to search for the lost pixie. He chewed his nails in worry, desperate to join the search for her, but knew someone had to stay back, just in case. His thoughts rattled around in his head. There was no reason Thimble shouldn’t have flown back to them by now. Something awful must’ve happened. As soon as they had gotten to the clearing hours ago, laying Wick down so he could finish being healed, Teor had done a quick head count. 2,3,4…4? He had frantically searched the air for Thimble. Had she been with them when they ran? He couldn’t remember. The guilt and worry gnawed at him, growing ever stronger with each hour that passed with no sign of his friend. Wick and Kattigan got back a little sooner than Tyranny. Kattigan was searing with barely-contained frustration and Wick was practically buzzing with nerves. Teor only caught the tail end of their conversation as the camp came into view. “And you’re sure you checked everywhere?” Kattigan growled as he rubbed his eyes. The lack of results had all of them on edge. “Well, I didn’t see any glowing-“ “She might not be glowing! You have to-” Kattigan cut himself off, taking a deep, calming breath as he sat down next to Teor. The lion man had sat near the fire he started earlier, anything to keep busy as the others searched. His head was in his hands as his thoughts swirled with worry. Kattigan placed a hand on the larger man’s shoulder. “We’re gonna find her, big guy. Don’t worry. We just have to keep looking.” “I don’t understand where she could have gone,” Teor sighed, “It is not like Thimble to get lost. What if-” “Guys!” he was cut off by Tyranny’s shout. All three turned to the demon running towards them, a dim light shining from behind her fingers. “You found her?” Teor stood, rushing over to Tyranny. She nodded, holding out her hands to show them the unconscious pixie. “I found her, but I think she’s hurt. There was a snake and-“ Teor cut her off by lifting Thimble out of her hands and into his own. He scanned her little body for any obvious injuries, his eyes landing on the strange grass bandaging around her torso. Glancing up to Tyranny in concern, he carefully hooked a claw under the wraps and tore through, unraveling them from around the pixie. His and Tyranny’s hearts dropped at the damage to the tiny wings. Dried blood was splattered across the tattered appendages with long gashes down her back. At Tyranny’s gasp, Wick and Kattigan leaned in to see. “I don’t think a snake did that…” Kattigan whispered in shock. Sickly-looking and muddled purple tendrils branched out from the wound, carving their way around the tiny back. “Had to have been one of those undead bastards. Did anyone see her go down?” Tyranny’s face was a pale pink as she remembered the battle. “I…I did. But she said she was okay! She said- I thought- I promise I didn’t-” she scrambled to defend herself even as guilt rolled around in her stomach. “Tyranny.” Teor stopped her. “It doesn’t matter now. I need you to hold her wings in place so I can fix the tears, please.” Tyranny nodded again as she handed the tiny swords off to Kattigan. She swallowed her nerves as she brought her fingers to Thimble’s wings, lifting the delicate chitin as gently as she could. As soon as the injury was jostled though, Thimble flinched awake with a shrill scream. She struggled against the hand holding her for a moment, reaching for a sword no longer there. Tyranny dropped the wings at the sudden scream as Thimble’s eyes darted around in panic. “Woah hey hey hey it’s okay,” she tried to reassure the pixie. Thimble’s struggles slowed as she recognized the faces staring down at her. “T- Te- Teor…” her voice was shaky as she eyed the lion man. She tried to sit up with her back burning in pain, but a large claw carefully pushed her back down, forcing her to lay prone. “Easy, easy little one. It’s alright,” Teor soothed her, “We are going to help you, just lay still for us, okay?” Thimble’s heart still raced, but as a wave of pain and exhaustion washed over her, she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “It’s okay,” Tyranny lightly brushed over the pixie’s hair. She was by no means an expert in comforting people, so she did her best to copy Teor. “I’ve just got to hold your wings up. We’ve got you, it’s okay.” Thimble nodded again, too tired to argue against the attack on her pride. She wrapped her arms around Tyranny’s finger to anchor herself through the pain. Tyranny smiled at her before looking up to Teor for a moment, then lifted the pixie’s wings again. Thimble grit her teeth as the two above her worked to position her wings correctly. Once Teor was sure they would heal straight, he closed his eyes to channel the spell. Thimble sighed as the chitin knit itself back together, and the pain that had been pulsing through her since the fight finally started to fade. “Better?” Tyranny asked, her touch feather-light against the pixie’s back as she sat up. Thimble flexed her wings, slowly opening and closing them to check for any lasting pain past the expected soreness. They seemed fine, though the dried blood coating the bases crackled uncomfortably. Tyranny frowned at the sight. “Here,” she mumbled, offering her hand next to Teor’s, “let’s get that stuff off you.” Thimble folded her wings back down with a slight wince as she stood in Teor’s hand, quietly stepping across the bridge of Tyranny’s fingers before settling down in the center. Tyranny and Teor shared a quick look. It was so strange for them to see their little friend flightless. Tyranny wasn’t completely sure she'd ever seen Thimble walk before. Pushing the thought away, Tyranny sat down against a tree, folding her legs under her so Thimble could sit on her knee instead of the cold ground. The pixie stared downward quietly, pointedly ignoring the way Teor watched them out of the side of his eyes, concern written clearly on his face. Kattigan and Wick weren’t far behind. With her hands free, Tyranny dug through her bag, pulling out the softest cloth she could find. She wet it with some water from her canteen before looking back down to Thimble. She nudged the little soldier gently in the side, brushing against her green shirt, “Mind taking this off for me?” Thimble slipped the shirt over her head without question, struggling slightly to get it off of her wings, which Tyranny quickly helped with. The feeling of helplessness bore down on the pixie (though she was slightly amused at Wick’s sudden, flustered turn-away as her top came off, as if he’d be able to see any detail from that distance regardless). She set the shirt in her lap, frowning at the dark blood stains on the back. She should be able to get them out, hopefully - her clothes have been through worse before. She was jolted out of these thoughts when the cold water pressed against her back, her wings fluttering a bit in surprise. Tyranny gently scrubbed the blood from Thimble’s back, careful to not push too hard on the base of her wings. Thimble closed her eyes as she slumped forward, her tiredness catching up to her. Tyranny’s voice cut through the comfortable silence. “Why’d you sound surprised back there?” “Hmm?” Thimble hummed. The cool water felt amazing against her skin. “When I found you. You sounded surprised that we were looking for you.” Thimble didn’t answer for a moment. She felt her wing get lightly pinched between Tyranny’s fingers, the demon gently stretching them out to wipe the blood off. The pixie shrugged. She opened her mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say, but no explanation she’d want to say out loud came to mind. Tyranny stared at her patiently. When no answer came, she tried to switch tracks. “Y’know… I’ve never seen Teor so worried before,” she said with a chuckle. Thimble sat up, turning her head a bit towards the demon. “Really?” she questioned quietly. “Oh, definitely,” Tyranny smiled, “when we noticed you were missing, I thought he was about to drop from a heart attack or something.” Thimble chuckled, but it was weak and brief. “…I’m sorry I worried all of you,” she mumbled. Tyranny paused, before finishing up without a word. Thimble stretched her wings back, relieved that they were starting to feel normal again. She tugged her shirt back over her head and stood, turning back to her friend. “…Thanks.” Tyranny smiled. Raising a hand, she booped Thimble on the nose with a fingertip nearly the size of the pixie’s face. Thimble blinked at the strange action, but grinned back anyway. Looking over, she saw Teor still eyeing them surreptitiously. She gave Tyranny a quick pat on the hand for gratitude before testing her wings, flying a few inches up to make sure they were okay, then flitted over to the lion man. Teor was keeping himself busy by snuffing out the fire now that the sun was up. Thimble hovered nearby, hesitant. “Hey,” she said as casually as she could. Teor’s eyes flicked over to her for a moment. “Hello,” He watched as the last flickers of fire went out, “I am glad you’re alright.” Thimble eyed the large pile of supplies laying not far from the nama. She landed on top of Teor’s pack, a few feet from where the lion man himself was knelt. “Tyranny told me you were worried.” “Of course.” Teor sat back, staring at the ground away from the pixie. An apology rested on the tip of her tongue, but instead, “Well you didn’t need to be,” Thimble’s voice was louder with fake confidence, “I took down a huge ass snake all by myself.” Teor huffed a short laugh, “I’m not surprised.” His smile dropped, “but then Tyranny found you unconscious.” Thimble felt a pang in her chest at that, “She didn’t- I wasn’t-” she stopped and pursed her lips, bringing her knees up to wrap her arms around them. Teor paused at the hurt in her profile. “I’m sorry, little one. About leaving you. I should have-” “It’s not your fault,” she interrupted him. Hearing an apology would only make it worse, make it real. “There was a lot going on with Wick being hurt and-” “That is no excuse. Someone should have noticed. I’m so sorry we didn’t.” Thimble bit her tongue. There it was. Confirmation that they really did just forget her. Being left behind on purpose would be one thing, regardless of how unlikely she knew that to be, but for her absence to not even be noticed… Shame burned behind her eyes. One injury in the wrong place and she was left practically helpless. It was by pure luck that her wings stayed attached enough to be healed. If she had lost a piece, she would have been as good as dead. But worse than that, she’d’ve been completely useless to everybody. She wouldn’t be able to fight, to finish her mission, to– “Thimble,” Teor’s voice cut through her thoughts. He brought his hand to her, but she turned away with her head hung low, “We would have never left you on purpose, and we would have never stopped looking until we found you. You know that, right?” “Of course I know that,” Thimble spat in frustration, “You guys need me. So I can kill things for you.” Teor was taken aback, “Thimble, that’s not-“ The pixie stopped him with a scoff, kicking out her leg. “Teor it’s fine. I get it. I’m here to fight. That’s my purpose. Hell, it’s why I was given to Thjazi in the first place. It was my fault I got hurt. It’s not your job to babysit me.” She stubbornly pushed away tears. It was fine that she was unmemorable, unimportant. She wasn’t meant to be. It was fine. She twitched as Teor lightly touched her shoulder. “Thimble…” the nama said with so much damn care that it felt like razors through Thimble’s heart. She couldn’t let herself be hurt again. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “Stop it, Teor,” her voice was small and wet with emotion. She came over here to apologize, to push the whole situation away, now she just wanted to be left alone. “Just stop… please.” Suddenly, she felt fingers wrap around her. Her mind flashed to the image of an undead hand tearing into her back as she gasped and struggled, only to be pressed against a soft chest. The hand holding her was gentle but insistent, keeping her stuck in the pseudo-hug as she recognized the feeling of Teor’s fur. Her face turned red from the awful feeling bubbling in her stomach. She shouldn’t need this. She didn’t want the others to see her like this. Thimble’s breath hiccupped as she tried to push away from the lion man, but her strength could never match his. Teor’s voice picked up again, louder and rumbling from Thimble’s spot against his chest. “You are right - Thjazi cared about you above all else, but he is not the only one that cared for you. I hope you know that.” The pixie’s silence was an answer plenty. Teor lightly brushed over her hair as he continued. “It would make no difference to me if you never won another battle. You being here with me is more than enough.” Thimble struggled to find a response, a refute of some kind. Her eyes watered as she grasped handfuls of fur, leaning against her friend. Before she could speak, she was interrupted by the footsteps of someone else’s approach. Kattigan knelt by Teor with something in his hand. He paused as he looked at his fellow soldiers. “Oh, were you two having a moment? Sorry ‘bout that. Just thought I’d give these back.” The pixie lifted her head to see. In Kattigan’s hand were Thimble’s swords, freshly cleaned and sharpened. Thimble wiped the wetness from her eyes, a look of surprise on her face as she reached out for her weapons. They looked incredible. The precision needed to work with such thin metal without damaging it was impressive, to say the least. She ran her hand lightly over the blades to feel Kattigan’s work. She looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Wow, I…thanks.” Kattigan smiled down at her briefly before pushing himself up, walking away without another word. Teor chuckled lightly. Thimble took another moment to admire the clean metal, before slipping her swords back into their scabbards. She looked up at Teor to say something else, but paused as she saw his face. Past the smile and relief, his eyes looked so tired. She looked back down, “Did you guys stay up all night? Looking for me?” Teor’s eyebrows went up. “Yes.” He replied, as if it was obvious. “We did not know what danger you were in - sleep did not cross our minds.” He glanced over to the others, to Wick stretching out with a yawn and Tyranny slumped against the tree. Despite the sun being well risen by now, “Perhaps we would do well to rest before we take off again.” Thimble nodded, her own exhaustion tugging at her. Teor moved his hand so the pixie could flutter off. Thimble hovered nearby as Teor pushed himself to a stand. He took a moment to let the others know they were going to settle down for a while, giving thanks to Kattigan as he offered to keep watch. Tyranny and Wick began digging through their bags to grab their bedrolls, and Teor did the same. Laying it out, he looked over to his little friend, “Would you like me to set up somewhere for you to lay? I know you usually take to sleeping among the flora but if you would prefer-” “Actually, um…” Thimble spoke up, her face slightly red, “Could I maybe…stay with you?” Teor paused, his expression softening. “Of course you can, if that would make you more comfortable.” Thimble went to say something, but the words caught in her throat. She could occasionally see the other stealing glances towards her, still worried, she assumed. Slight embarrassment colored her cheeks. But… she couldn’t bring herself to be alone right now. So, she bit her lip and nodded again. Teor smiled. Sitting on his bedroll, he waved the pixie over. She once again landed in his hand, resting her tired wings as he settled down. The sheer amount of times she’d been in a hand that day was jarring. Before, Thjazi had been the only one allowed to hold her. No one in the golden orchard had, or had any reason to. Teor had earned that trust over time, solidified when he saved her after those crow bastards attacked. That fact didn’t make it any less strange to be held. Thimble didn’t have to dwell on that feeling for very long though, as Teor laid back without delay, relaxing into the bedroll. Thimble was placed down on his chest. “Is this okay?” he asked as his hand hovered nearby. “S’fine” the pixie mumbled, laying down and trying to make herself comfortable. She couldn’t stop her mind from flashing back to Thjazi’s wake, when she had cried herself to sleep on top of her cold, unmoving best friend. This chest was nothing like his - it was warm, soft with fur and moving her up and down like the waves of a calm sea as the nama breathed. She clutched handfuls of the fur as her small eyes drifted shut, her exhausted mind quickly grasping onto rest as she pushed down the memories of her late friend. On the edge of her awareness, she caught Wick's voice, but not his words. Teor muttered a quiet “Thank you, Wicander,” then silence. A moment later, something soft settled over her. Wearily peeking her eyes open, Thimble saw a bright teal fabric covering her body. She lightly grabbed at the edge, recognizing the material as one of Wick’s fancy handkerchiefs, this one somehow managing to stay clean and undamaged through their journey. For a little pixie, it acted as a rather large and surprisingly warm blanket. Pulling the fabric closer around her, Thimble let out a content sigh, relaxing into the security Teor offered just by being there. A weight pressed lightly against her body as Teor settled his hand over her, guarding his little friend from any dangers the woods might pose against them. Teor yawned as the call of sleep caught up to him as well. Thimble couldn’t stop a somber smile from crossing her face. A warmth filled her chest as she was surrounded by love and care. For the first time since losing Thjazi, she felt like she belonged.