@wldflwers: for caiaphas
finn listens to the quiet sounds of sleep around him; listens as his friends shift on their bed rolls, their breathing deep & even. he sighs & stretches his legs underneath his blanket, feeling the rough wool against his thighs. he looks over to the sleeping form of celeste. she seems so small, curled into herself in her sleep. he thinks of the adoring look on her eyes when he catches her gaze, the flush of her red cheeks when he smiles at her and sighs. she's so young; knows so little of the world. she believes in him so much it hurts. he doesn't know if he will ever be able to tell her what he’s done. he doesn't know if he could handle losing her trust.
he sighs and sits up slowly, tucking his knees to his chest, letting the blanket fall off him. he pushes himself up as quietly as possible on the creaky floorboards and pulls on his trousers. the rain calls to him. they’d been lucky to find this cabin on their route. as suspicious as it seemed, the day of travel had wiped them all out. they fell asleep to the sounds of thunder overhead. it was quieter, now, in the aftermath of the storm. he steps outside and inhales deeply, a weight lifted now that he’s away from the group.
the thought of leaving crosses his mind, briefly. they're drawing attention to themselves with all these jobs; a quarter of westruun was now a massive sinkhole because of them. sure, it was because they took out some horrifying magical bug nest, but the point stands. they made a mess and hadn't stuck around to see whose attention it brought. he just prays it wasn't the clasp's. he cannot get caught. still, the jobs they’re running were making him some high profile allies. the Lord and Lady of Whitestone were nothing to scoff at; their protection would be invaluable, if he could convince them to hear him out.
he wanders in the quiet of the night for some time, listening to the world at peace: trees rustling in the wind, puddles expanding as he watches. his skin is slick with water by the time he returns to the cabin. he shivers, pushing wet hair off his forehead. he pauses, then, noticing a form crouched on the stoop. he holds his breath, trying to make it out, but the rain obscures his vision worse than the dark. he crouches down amongst the tall grass, moving slowly until he can make out curls flattened by the rain. caiaphas.
❛ oh, ❜ he says, emerging gracelessly from the grass a few feet from the door. ❛ you're up. ❜
