Chapter 472 - 473: Thoughts Of You.

Chapter 472: Chapter 473: Thoughts Of You.

I remember . She sounds amused. Curious. Knowing, in the way Ma always knew things . Auntie was the same, sometimes. Maybe it was the sort of sense you got when you became a ma.

"I was wondering..." Loac lets out a low breath, smoothing his hands down his thighs, "...I was wondering if it would be all right if I gave it to him."

Oh, Loac .

It’s weird, but in that moment he could swear he can feel her hand fall upon his shoulder. He doesn’t look though, because he would rather pretend it is than open his eyes and realise it’s not.

Of course.

"You might not ever see it again," he warns her quietly, just so she knows. So that she’s not allowed to chew him out for losing it because he told her it might happen.

Of course , she repeats, more insistently this time, and if Loac clenches his eyes tight enough he can almost feel her arms curl around him like she’s swooped right out of the paint and wrapped him in a hug like he’s still just her treasured little boy.

Do you love him, Loac ? she whispers, voice soft like she’s holding back tears of joy. Joy, that he finally understands the feelings that she had felt herself; the ones she’s waited all this time to light up his heart and his world the way they’d lit up hers. Joy, that he’s found someone for himself that makes his heart smile.

"Yeah, ma," Loac finds himself whispering back. It’s the first time he’s admitted it to anyone, and the first time he’s said it aloud. Maybe the next time he says it, it’ll be easier. "...I think I do."

...

That night is no better than the others that came before it. If anything it’s worse .

Get some sleep , is what everyone’s been saying to him for days now –as if it was just that simple.

You look like crap.

That sounds about right. Khobi feels like crap.

These past few nights it feels like he’s barely slept. It’s weird, he feels like he should be sleeping well . He should be sleeping the best he’s ever slept. His family are here. With him. For the first time since Scargga the three of them are together and they’re safe –surely that would be enough to help him sleep at night? But no, if anything he’s more exhausted than he’s ever been. And he’s been all kinds of exhausted over the years. Yet despite that –despite the dark bags under his eyes and the weariness sunk deep into his bones –these last few nights whenever he closes his eyes the couch is just slightly too small, and the pillow slightly too hard, and even though winter’s passed and the hearth is burning it feels oddly too cold.

And even if it weren’t, the thoughts swirling around in his head are so deafening it’s a wonder that Mozry and Khojin can sleep through them.

Tonight is no different.

If anything, tonight his thoughts are louder ; that question that Khojin had asked him in a soft voice only the other night when the fires had burned low ringing through his ears on repeat even though Khobi’s already given him his answer.

How about it, Khobi ?

Do you want to go home ?

It was a simple question, with an answer just as simple. Of course Khobi wants to go home. It’s all he’s ever wanted for as long as he can remember. Scargga might be a kingdom left without a king but even if its people are scattered, the land is still there. The castle might have come crumbling down; he’s not sure if it did –he remembers fires –but even if it did, even Silas can’t take away the mountains. They’ve endured more winters and more wars than he could even dream of. They were there before kings came to claim them, and they’ll be there long after they’re all dead and gone.

If Silas’s taken them for his own, Khobi will help take them back. He’s not a child anymore. He can fight.

He’s been wanting to see those mountains for as long as he can remember.

And now, seeking them out finally feels like it’s not quite so impossible. Khojin knows the way, after all. Sure, the door’s locked, and even if it wasn’t Khobi knows from his time spent trying to escape that if they ran, the castle guard would be sent to stop them. If that happened, the only way out would be to fight the ones that came for them.

And he doesn’t want to do that any more than he’s sure that they don’t want that either.

But the window isn’t locked, and this isn’t like the tower he was kept in for some time. It wouldn’t be an easy climb, but it wouldn’t be too hard to find a safe path down and out now that he knows they exist. Khobi’s already looked for it and has already seen the way he’d take them. And once they were out of the city it wouldn’t be too hard. He has enough gold saved up that they could probably rent a horse, and Khojin says he’s got some of his men out there still who had followed after him. Who still saw him as their king. They’ll be waiting for them out in the forests, he said.

They’re looking forward to going home, too.

Stomach twisting, Khobi rolls again; trying to find a position to sleep in that’ll stop the gnawing feeling deep in his gut. As expected, nothing helps, and he winds up flat on his back on the couch, staring blankly up at a pattern of rafters that aren’t the ones he’s grown accustomed to having over him. One of his hands comes loose from where it’s been fisted tight in his blankets, rising to trail against his tingling lower lip. It’s been doing that all evening. Since Loac left, actually. Since he’d kissed him goodnight.

There have been a lot of times that Loac’s kissed him that have stood out in Khobi’s mind –a lot of moments that have consumed his every waking thought even long after the heat of Loac’s touch had faded from his skin. This was one of them; one of those little moments he can’t put from his mind.

What might have been .