Ducks are not the most sensitive of creatures. They converse loudly as they waddle back to the water’s edge, viciously berating the ‘uncouth’ fairies who had disturbed them. Thoth wishes they’d shut up. Their remarks aren’t a great improvement over Tarquin’s taunts, which are still ringing in his ears. He flinches a little when Tristan reaches out, still tensed and defensive, but realises immediately the purpose of the action and holds out his hand to receive the pendant. The pale blue metal has been warmed by touch, and the point of the star dig into his hand as he closes his fingers over it. Apart from the snapped cord, it isn’t damaged in any way. He doesn’t attempt to retie the cord or put the pendant in his pocket but rather retains the tight clutch in his hand, letting the string hang limply, as though he’s afraid to let it go again. Now that Tarquin knows about the pendant, he can’t wear it again. He’ll have to keep it in his room, locked away in a safe place – Thoth’s stomach jolts. His room doesn’t have a lock on it. What if Tarquin can get in?
The dilemma of the pendant’s safety joins the confused muddle of thoughts darting around in his head. In spite of everything that’s just happened, and everything they’ve been through together, he’s half-convinced himself that Tris would rather break the friendship than be associated with such a loser when he notices the prince tensing up. Thoth isn’t particularly perceptive, but he’s known Tristan long enough to understand his expressions of mood. The question confirms it.
“Tris…” he starts, but what he’d been intending to say, you don’t want to know, catches in his throat. Thoth has been silently living in fear of Tarquin’s gang for so long that, in some, small way, just having someone he can trust to tell is a relief. The anger in Tris’s face makes it difficult to lie or dodge the question. “About as long as I’ve known you,” he says in a very small voice, painfully aware of the gravity of that statement. “They used to get me on the way to the castle.”
He bites his lower lip and averts his eyes again, unsure how to imply lack of blame. It’s never been Tristan’s fault. Thoth has never gotten along that well with others his own age, and would inevitably have been bullied whether he knew the prince or not. A light breeze picks up over the ground; normally unnoticeable, but it brings a sharp sting to his exposed skin. It’s early spring, and while the air is mild, the water is freezing. Thoth crosses his arms across his chest and tries (and fails) to suppress a shiver while Tris relieves his feelings by hurling a pebble into the lake, which inevitably sets the ducks off again. At least ducks don’t express profanity quite like geese or swans. Their complaints are mildly-worded enough to ignore.
“He said that you and him were really close,” he mutters in response to the prince’s reflection of Tarquin’s character. “And that you just let me hang around because you felt sorry – ” He breaks off, belatedly deciding against finishing that sentence. Tarquin has passed a number of remarks on Thoth and Tristan’s relationship, none of which are likely to improve the latter’s mood. The expression on Thoth’s face indicates that he hadn’t really believed the bully’s words, but they’d been said with such regularity that constant exposure to the idea has, over time, made him question his certainty. As Tristan clarifies his intentions, Thoth’s throat sticks together and, for a moment he can’t respond. The feeling he’d had when Tarquin had given him the death stare in the lake returns and slams him in the gut, and he jerks his head up to stare at Tristan with a horrified expression. “No! He won’t – he’ll just wait until you’re not here – and then – ” Verbal incoherency isn’t a problem Thoth often experiences, and he stumbles a little over the words. “I’ve got it sorted out. If I just don’t retaliate then he won’t get his dad – and he doesn’t – I’ve been really lucky so far that everything’s set properly, but if it doesn’t – I don’t want – ”
He freezes, recognising too late what he’s just let slip. Thoth’s brittle bone condition means that nobody really thinks twice when he comes home with a broken finger or wrist, since it’s a frequent enough occurrence. Boys will be boys, after all.
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