MoftheH: Chapter 29 (Patreon)

"Wake up, Chom. Time to go."

Thomas groaned and burrowed deeper under his blanket, trying to shut out the sunlight streaming in through the open shutter.

"G'way," he mumbled. "'S too early. Sleep now."

Darian snorted, giving Thomas's shoulder a gentle shove. "Can't. We've got a big day ahead of us."

Thomas cracked one eye open, squinting balefully up at his friend. Darian was already dressed, he had that familiar gleam of excitement in his eyes.

"Wha' for?" Thomas grumbled, slowly levering himself upright. He scrubbed a hand over his face, banishing the last cobwebs of sleep. "I thought you didn't have to study anymore, now that your exam's done."

"I don't," Darian agreed. "But this isn't about studying. This is about you and me and a little adventure."

That brought Thomas up short. He blinked at Darian, suddenly wide awake. "Adventure? What sort of adventure?"

Darian grinned, the expression bright and fierce. "The hunting sort. It's time to teach you to use that bow you were eyeing. Past time, really. Can't have you getting rusty now that you're living the life of luxury."

Thomas smacked Darian with his pillow, but his heart leapt with excitement.

Hunting. With Dare. In the woods.

He'd been waiting for this moment, hoping for it, even as part of him was nervous at the thought of leaving the safe haven of the cottage.  But he was done being afraid. Done letting his doubts and anxieties rule him.

He had a place now. A purpose. And he'd be damned if he let a few shadows and eerie tales keep him from standing tall at his best friend's side.

"Well?" Darian's voice cut through Thomas's musings. "You coming or not?"

Thomas tossed aside his blanket and stood, meeting Darian's eyes squarely. He thought he saw a flash of pride in their hazel depths, there and gone like quicksilver.

He nodded once, decisive. Determined.

"I'm coming," he said. "Lead the way."

***

Darian knocked three times on the door. Beside him, Thomas shifted from foot to foot, his eyes wide as he took in the organized clutter of the blacksmith's workshop.

The door swung open, revealing Breck's burly frame. The smith broke into a grin at the sight of them. "Well now, if it isn't my two favourite troublemakers! What brings you lads by?"

Darian smiled. "I was hoping you might have a spare bow lying around. Something simple, for Thomas to practice with."

"A bow, eh?" Breck rubbed his chin, considering. "Aye, I think I've got just the thing. Come on in."

They followed Breck inside, Thomas sticking close to Darian's side. The smith rummaged in a corner, muttering to himself, before straightening with a small, unstrung bow in hand. "Here we are! It's not fancy, mind, but it'll serve you well enough to start."

Thomas stared, his mouth falling open. "That...is that actually for me?"

"Aye, lad." Breck held the bow out to him. "Every young man needs a good weapon. This one should serve you well to start."

Thomas reached out hesitantly, his fingers running along the smooth wood. "It's perfect," he breathed. "Thank you, sir."

"None of that 'sir' business, lad," Breck said seriously. "It's just Breck." His expression softened. "Heard tell you're living with Dare and his ma now. How's that treating you?"

Thomas ducked his head. "It's...it's real good," he said quietly. "A lot better than the orphanage."

Breck nodded. "Aye, I reckon it would be. Mara's a right fine woman, and Dare here's not so bad either." He winked at Darian.

Darian rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Thanks ever so."

Thomas fiddled with the bow, a small smile playing about his lips. "They've been real kind to me. I just...I hope I can pay it back somehow."

"You don't owe us nothing, Chom," Darian said firmly.

Breck clapped Thomas on the shoulder. "Listen to your friend, lad. Family don't keep score."

Thomas blinked rapidly, his grip tightening on the bow. Darian bumped his shoulder gently.

"What do you say we go try this out, eh? See if you've got the makings of a proper bowman."

Thomas straightened, "Yes. I...I'd like that."

Breck chuckled. "Off with you then. And mind you stay clear of Widow Harkin's apple trees, you hear? Woman's got a keen eye and a keener aim with a wooden spoon, as I reckon Dare remembers."

Darian felt his ears heat. "That was one time! And we were starving."

"Mmhmm. Get on with you, scamp. And good luck, Thomas. You'll be outshooting this one in no time, mark my words."

With a final grin and a wave, they left Breck to his smithing.

As they walked away, Darian glanced back to see Breck watching them go, a fond, slightly wistful smile on his grizzled face. He's a good man, Darian thought. Best we've got in this place.

"I can't believe he gave me a bow," Thomas said. "A real bow, Dare! And he wasn't even mad about...about me not having any coin or anything."

Darian hip-checked him gently as they headed for the treeline. "Like Breck told you, Chom. Coin doesn't matter, not between family. And that's what you are now. To all of us."

Thomas ducked his head, but he couldn't hide the smile that split his face. The boy clutched the bow to his chest like a treasure the whole walk to the woods.

***

The sun dappled the forest floor as they walked deeper among the trees, the chatter of birds and chittering of squirrels a comfortable backdrop. Thomas was nearly vibrating with eagerness, his fingers running along the curve of his new bow.

"I'm gonna bag us a deer," he declared. "No, a boar! One of them mean ones with the big tusks, wouldn't that be something?"

Darian laughed. "Baby steps, Chom. Let's start you on some targets that can't gore you first, yeah?"

"Oh. Right, "Thomas deflated a little.

Darian slung an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Don't worry, we'll have you chasing down boars in no time. But first you've gotta learn the basics. Tracking, moving quiet, picking your spot..."

He pointed to a clump of brambles. "See there? Prime rabbit country, that. You could set up a few snares, thin 'em out some."

Thomas squinted at the undergrowth. "Snares?"

Darian nodded. "Traps, like. Made of wire and twine." He mimed a looping action. "You set 'em along game trails, places the coneys are like to run. They get caught, and bam! Rabbit stew."

Thomas wrinkled his nose. "Seems a bit...sneaky. I thought we'd be shooting 'em proper, with the bows."

"Oh we will," Darian assured. "But it's good to know all the ways, see? Never know what might come in handy. Da always said a man's gotta be ready for anything."

A sad expression passed over Darian's face at the mention of his father but he shook it off quickly, determined not to spoil the moment.

"C'mon, I'll show you how to read the trails. Bent grass here, a little fur there, and...ah ha!" He pointed to a scattering of small, round droppings. "Rabbit raisins. Dead giveaway."

Thomas' face scrunched up. "Lovely."

The hour passed like that, Darian pointing out signs of rabbit, squirrel, and the occasional larger tracks that might be deer or even boar. Thomas drank it all in, his sharp eyes picking up on the subtler clues quickly.

Finally, Darian judged the light right for a first archery lesson. He strung Thomas' bow with deft fingers, showing him how to hold it, how to nock an arrow and sight along the shaft.

"Keep your elbow up, that way," he coached. "Breathe out as you loose... now!"

Thomas' arrow flew wide, disappearing into the bushes with a sad thwap. His face fell.

"I'm rubbish at this."

"Nah, you just need practice is all." Darian nocked another arrow, handing the bow back. "Remember, elbow up, eyes on the target. Try again."

And again. And again. A dozen more arrows vanished into the greenery before, more by luck than skill, one hit the crudely drawn target pinned to a tree.

"There, see!" Darian crowed. "Told you you'd get the hang of it."

Thomas glowed at the praise, something eager and puppyish in his expression. They gathered the spent arrows - those they could find - and tried a few more rounds.

"Enough for one day," Darian declared when Thomas' arm began to tremble from the effort of drawing the bow. "Best not to overtax yourself straight off."

He stowed the equipment in the rough lean-to he used for his hunts, making sure it was well hidden. As he straightened, a flash of brown in the bracken caught his eye.

"Chom, look there." He pointed to a fat brown rabbit, oblivious as it nibbled a patch of clover not ten feet away.

Thomas' eyes widened. His hand crept towards the quiver, but Darian stopped him with a gentle touch.

"Nah, this one's yours, mate. Nice and easy now, just like I showed you."

He pressed the bow into Thomas' hand. His friend took a shaky breath, nocking an arrow with exaggerated care. He drew the string back to his cheek, sighting along the shaft.

The rabbit twitched an ear.

Thwap!

The arrow struck true, pinning the fat rabbit where it sat. It let out a high, thin squeal, twitching horribly... then fell still.

"Clean shot, Chom. Right through the heart."

Thomas swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat. He hadn't expected to feel so... much. This was what they had come out here for, what he had been so impatient to do. And he had done it, proven himself a real hunter at last.

So why did he feel slightly sick, staring at the rabbit's glassy eyes? Why did his hands shake as he reached for the arrow?

"Hey." Darian's hand tightened on his shoulder, turning him gently away from the rabbit. "It's alright, Thomas. The first kill... it's never easy."

"It's just..." Thomas's voice wobbled and he clenched his jaw against it. "It looks so small. So helpless. I thought I'd feel proud, but I just..."

"Feel shaky?" Darian finished quietly. "A bit queasy maybe, like you've done something wrong?"

Thomas suddenly bent over forwards and retched, bringing up the contents of his stomach in a painful heave.

He's lucky, Darian thought. The only blood on his hands is a rabbit’s. Not like me.

"Just breathe, Chom. In and out, nice and slow," Darian rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"It’s dead, Dare," Thomas gasped. "I…I killed it."

Darian felt his heart clench. This was supposed to be a victory, not... this. He pulled Thomas against his side, letting the other boy shake in his arms.

"I know. I know it don't feel good." Gods, do I ever. "But it's the way of things. The way of the hunt."

Thomas hiccoughed. "I thought... I didn't think it would be like that. Make me feel this way…”

"I know it's hard," Darian whispered. "I know it hurts. It's supposed to. Means you've a good heart."

Thomas sniffled. "I'm not like you, Dare. I'm not...I'm not brave like you."

Darian felt like he'd been punched. He squeezed his eyes shut. Brave. What a joke.

Out loud he said, "You don't have to be like me, Chom. You just have to be you. That's enough. More than."

Thomas was quiet for a long minute, his sniffles slowly tapering off. Finally he sat up, wiping his snotty face on his sleeve.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not quite meeting Darian's eyes. "For...for falling apart on you. I’ve been doing a lot these days."

Darian gripped his chin gently, making Thomas look at him. "Don't ever be sorry for that. Not with me. We're in this together, right?"

Shakily, Thomas nodded. "Right."

He glanced miserably at the rabbit, still and sad in the leaves. "What...what do we do with it? I don't...I can't..."

Darian sighed. "I'll take care of it. Why don't you head back, get cleaned up some?" He tried for a smile. "Bet Ma will even let you have first go at the honeycakes, she sees what a state you're in."

That got a watery chuckle from Thomas. "Thanks, Dare. For...for everything."

Darian just nodded, not trusting his voice. He watched Thomas walk away, his thin shoulders slumped under an invisible weight.

We're only on the outskirts of the forest, he should be safe to get back home by himself.

When he was out of sight, Darian knelt down and carefully extracted the arrow from the rabbit's body. It came away with a wet squelch that turned his stomach, but he breathed through it.

He set the arrow aside to clean later and picked up the carcass gingerly. It was still warm.

First blood is always the hardest, Da said. Darian swallowed thickly. Guess that's as true for coneys as it is for men.

He busied himself dressing the kill, his fingers moving on autopilot. Once he'd trimmed away the offal and wrapped the meat in broad leaves, he buried the remains as neatly as he could.

It felt poetic, somehow. Beautiful and terrible all at once, the cycle of life that fed back into itself. We all end up in the ground some day.

He just hoped, for Thomas' sake, that it would be a long, long time before that day came.

I'll keep him safe, Darian vowed silently to the freshly turned earth. As long as I live, I'll keep them all safe.

It was a child's promise, whispered to an unhearing forest. But he meant it down to his bones.

With one last look around the clearing, Darian gathered up his tools and the bundled rabbit. The shadows were lengthening, the day waning towards dusk. It was time to head home.

He walked slowly, weighed down by more than just his burdens. He had wanted this day to be perfect. To give Thomas some piece of himself, some sense of belonging. Stupid, stupid. He should have known better.

Thomas isn't like you, a vicious inner voice sneered. Not hard, not mean. He's soft. Weak.

But Darian shoved the voice down ruthlessly, his hands tightening on his bow until his fingers ached. No. That wasn't fair and it wasn't true.

Thomas was kind, is all. Gentle in a way this world didn't much reward. But that gentleness, that softness...it was a strength, too. A rare and precious thing that deserved protecting.

And Darian would protect it. Protect him, come hell or high water. Because Thomas was his friend, his brother in all but blood.

Family don't keep score. Breck's words echoed in his mind and Darian felt something loosen in his chest. They'd get through this, him and Thomas. They'd get through everything, so long as they had each other.

That thought warmed him as he climbed the hill towards home, towards the golden lights spilling from the cottage windows. Towards the sound of his mother's humming and Talia's shrieks of laughter.

Towards the place where Thomas waited, pale but smiling, a damp cloth pressed to his red-rimmed eyes.

"There you are!" Mara swept Darian into a hug as soon as he entered, squeezing tight. "We were starting to worry."

"Sorry, Ma. Lost track of time." He pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling away.

Thomas hovered by the table, looking small and uncertain. Darian crossed to him in three long strides, pulling him into a rough embrace.

"Alright, Chom?"

He felt more than saw Thomas' nod against his shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright."

"Good." Darian released him, holding him at arm's length. "Because I'm starving and Ma's honeycakes are calling my name."

That startled a laugh out of Thomas. A small, rusty sound, but real. Darian felt some of the tension bleed out of him at the noise.

"Me too," Thomas admitted.

Darian slung an arm around his shoulders, steering him towards the table. "Then let's get to it, eh? After the day we've had, I reckon we've earned a few extra."

And if Thomas leaned into him a little as they walked, if he held on a little tighter than usual... well. That was alright.

They'd earned that, too.

Author's Note

Darian and Thomas are best friends/brothers in case anyone wonders anything else. I just thought I'd make it clear now so no one has expectations