Thorne had rested Lily against a fallen tree, choosing to agonise over starting a fire instead of starting a conversation. He spent ten minutes doing enough to almost light a spark but not enough to get the flame moving, before Lily decided to step in.
âLet me help you,â she giggled, moving closer. She struck the flint, blowing a little to push the spark further. The dry leaves saw a breath of orange before it disappeared into a fading ash. Lily blew a little harder, striking the flint a second time. The third time she struck, a flame had grown no larger than the tip of her finger.
The fire grew and stopped no taller then it was needed.
âDone.â Lily clapped.
Thorne nodded in approval.
The warmth of the flame wasnât needed this night but it was welcomed. Its light made it easier for her to make out Thorne as a person, rather than as a hulking mass of metal. He groaned, dozing off to sleep.
He had a hand on the hilt of his sword, even in sleep. She wondered why.
If there was one thing that Lily knew it was that she knew very little of the man.
Stonehold Keep wasnât a place people talked about, with good reason. Had he asked anyone else about it, he wouldâve gotten strange looks and awkward shrugs. But it had been her.
âJust what do you expect to find there?â Lily asked quietly, though it was more to herself as the fire took her words and melted them in two.
Thorne shifted, his grip on his hilt loosening, âHm?â
âWhy are we going there, of all places?â she asked, nervously pinching at herself.
âBecause, Iâm needed,â Thorne answered.
âBy who?â
âMy liege.â
Lily sat back, sighing up to the sky. How much could she ask and how much could she know? The ground was soft beneath her, the fire continued to sing.
âAnd after that? What will you do next?â
Thorne looked up to the sky too. He had let go of his hilt entirely, his hands pressed against the floor. There was a long pause before he spoke again, like he was letting the air settle his words.
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âIâm not sure.â
Lily felt her heart race; she pinched herself a little harder.
âYou could come back with me,â she offered.
The first human to stay in her grove since five hundred years ago.
Thorne looked back at her, she couldnât tell what he was thinking.
âI might.â He said, though he didnât sound too honest. He looked back at the ground, his hand reaching for his hilt before he slept again. This time, Lily didnât say anything. She let him sleep as she stood back up, leaving the fire and him.
The night-time forest was something that always made her blood rush. Crickets chirped in an endless choir. She was painfully aware of each step she took. But she just needed to take a walk to clear out her mind.
There were stories all around her, all she had to do was look. The tired trees that had bent against the weight of the wind, the animals that built nests where nameless graves lay. Lily wondered when it would be her turn, to have her story in the world. Sheâd been living so passively for so long; it was hard to ever imagine it any other way.
Lily touched her hands against the bark of an old tree, feeling against its crevices. It was coarse and unfeeling; bits of wood fell even as she brushed her fingers against it. She breathed a heavy sigh. She wanted to go home already.
She climbed up the trees, looking up at the horizon line. She could see the smoke from her fire rising, though it was faint against the black sky. Lily lay against a branch, it struggled against her but held. The hot weather was welcome for a change. She closed her eyes, sleeping up in the sky.
When she awoke it was still dark. She felt a bit dizzy; she hadnât gotten enough sleep. But she wanted to wake up before Thorne, to surprise him. Sheâd kept the gift to herself, feeling far too awkward to give it to him the night before. She fiddled with it, feeling out its shape for the dozenth time.
She wasnât so sure heâd like it but she hoped heâd keep it.
Lily stretched her arms, pushing herself down off the tree. It was a long drop, she took her time climbing back down.
She made her way back to their fire, pushing past the overgrowth. She found it stamped out, the ashes cold.
Thorne wasnât there.
Heâd left behind the few coins she hadnât spent, Lily pocketed them quickly, shaking herself awake. She had to find him, didnât she? But the way heâd left suggested that he didnât want to be found.
She panicked, had she said something wrong? Lilyâs hands shook. Sheâd gone too far, sheâd asked too much hadnât she?
But the fact remained that Thorne had disappeared, just like that.
Lily sat down, covering her face all over again. Just like that she was all alone again. His gift burned against her pocket, she wished sheâd given it to him the night before.
Could she really let him run off like that?
It would be unfair, to chase after him even though heâd left her without word. But she wanted to. It reminded her of when she was younger:
Her mother and her had just had a fight, she didnât remember what it was about. But her mother had stormed off, upset. Lily hadnât gone to look after her, sheâd been too mad to do so. And as life would have it, that had been the last time sheâd seen her mother.
Lily made up her mind. Sheâd go find Thorne, if only to give him his gift and her thanks for his time.
She buried the campfire, now itâd looked like theyâd never even been there to begin with. Small wildlife watched her curiously, hiding around every corner and bend of the forest. Lilyâs heart felt heavy.