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Thimble gritted her teeth as another large, cold raindrop impacted her shoulder. She was already soaked though and chilled to the bone. The rain pattering down through the trees was becoming too heavy for even someone as small and nimble as her to dodge around the worst of the raindrops, and, worse, her wings grew steadily clumsier and more sluggish as they got colder and more waterlogged. The overarching foliage provided some protection if she darted from one cluster of sheltering leaves to the next, but they also provided places for water to pool temporarily, with the risk of an unpredictable deluge if she happened to be under the wrong clump when it reached its capacity and tipped. She'd only been hit by that once so far today, but the rain was increasing—big, fat raindrops with less room to flit between—and showing no signs of letting up.
Visibility was shit, and it was hard to hear anything amid the near-roar of heavy rain through this many leaves. She could barely make out the occasional muddled voices of her companions behind her. Kattigan should have been close behind as they two of them scouted their path, but even his voice was all but drowned out. At least most things out here that might mean them ill would be suffering from similar difficulties.
She swerved left around a cluster of leaves that looked suspiciously ready to tip, aiming for another just bobbing back into place up ahead. Before she reached it, a massive raindrop hit the tip of her right wing, sending her spinning off course. As she scrambled to correct her rotation, two more hit her left lower wing and the top of her head in quick succession.
She had nearly managed to clear her eyes, still trying to stabilize, when a hand closed around her.
In a spike of panic, wings buzzing helplessly against the cage of fingers, she grabbed for her swords. “Let me go or I will cut your fucking fingers off!” Toy sword and one needle swiveled outwards, aiming for where she knew important nerves ran to the thumb and, opposite, to the ring finger. It might not get her out unscathed, but if they tried to crush her, she would make it hurt. Whatever fool had grabbed her had done so with bare fingers, presumably taking her for defenseless.
“Oh, shut up,” said Julien, annoyed.
What? That asshole. She was going to—
She lurched, scrambling to brace her back against his palm, as his hand moved. The wind through the gaps between his fingers felt extra frigid contrasted with the relative warmth of his hand. Cloth and darkness closed around her.
She was going to kill him. He couldn't seriously think he could get away with grabbing her and shoving her in a bag in front of everyone? (Even if it was actually a lot warmer.)
Julien dropped her unceremoniously onto the cloth at the bottom of the bag of… hair?
Oh.
Thimble turned around and glared up at Julien's ear. “You know, you could have just said 'Hey, Thimble, do you want to ride in my hood?' instead of grabbing me out of the air like a creep!”
“Of course,” said Julien, rolling his eyes, “and you would have heard me, just like you heard Occtis and Kattigan asking if you were all right. By all means, if you prefer the rain, you are welcome to leave.”
“I didn't say that.” She glowered. “Thanks, jerk.”
She clambered to her feet, hanging on to a damp lock of hair for support, and buzzed her sodden-but-unharmed wings, trying to shake off their heaviness and pump a little warmth back into them. Julien grimaced as the spray of cold droplets peppered the side of his face.
“Sorry!” said Thimble, sheepishly. “Didn't think that through.”
Her wings felt slightly better, but the rest of her still felt like a block of ice, especially as air gusted over her wet skin from the open front of the hood. She shuffled closer to the warmth of Julien's head, trying not to think of Thaz and the pocket he had sewn inside the front of all his coats, so she could ride along with the steady rhythm of his heart pulsing against her back.
“Thimble! You all right?” Kattigan became visible beyond the edge of the hood, squinting back at them for a glimpse of her.
“Yeah, I'm good,” she called, trying not to let her teeth chatter.
Kat flashed her a grin and a thumbs-up as he surged ahead to take the lead through the rain.
All things considered, it wasn't a bad spot. Despite their recent history, Julien was very conscious of where his body was relative to his surroundings and used to working around tiny folk in a way you just didn't find outside places linked to Faerie. (Unfortunately, some of the same qualities that let him snatch her out of the air.) Kattigan was great as big folk went, but even after years of working together, Thimble still found herself having to be ready to make a fast exit out of a space where he just hadn't thought about her being or to dodge a gesture that was just a little too forceful. Occtis, ever precise and thoughtful in his actions, was nearly as good as Julien at being cognizant of Thimble, but, of course, he no longer had body heat to share.
Thimble steadied herself against Julien's head, and promptly lost her balance, grabbing for a better support, as he jerked abruptly to the side.
“Would you kindly find another way to warm your hands besides shoving them into my ear?” he hissed.
“I didn't put my hands in your fucking ear! You jumped like a damn cat and made me fall onto your ear!”
“I jumped because of the icy little hands grabbing my ear.”
“Um.” Occtis's voice sounded hesitantly from beyond the fabric of the hood on her left. “I have a dry handkerchief if that would help?”
Marginally dried off and with the handkerchief wrapped around her like a blanket, Thimble managed to curl up inside the quilted collar of Julien's coat without eliciting further protests. Between the handkerchief and the warmth from his neck, her fingers and toes almost didn't feel like icicles anymore. (Fortunately, the rain had washed off any dirt from her boots while she flew, since Julien would 100% bitch at her if he found muddy pixie footprints on his collar, even if—especially if—he was the one who'd put her here.)
“Perhaps, once we reach our destination,” said Julien dryly, “you should consider getting some clothing that covers more than half of your skin.”
Thimble bristled. “Oh, fuck you! You know pixies run warm. We've got faster metabolisms than you big folk!” Unfortunately, given their size, they also lacked the insulation of the big folk.
“And yet,” he said with a shrug, “here we are.”
“Yeah, well, flying through cold rain for hours isn't what we're built for.”
“But cold rain is what cloaks are for.”
Thimble snorted. “Easy for you to say. You know many tailors that make clothes for people my size?” She realized the stupidity of the question as soon as it left her mouth.
Julien paused for a long moment to take in that she'd actually said that. “Yes,” he said, finally, “they are at our destination.”
“…Right.” Thimble pulled the handkerchief tighter around her shoulders. “Yeah, that's… not a terrible idea, actually. It's been a long time since I've been in the Orchard, and it's really hard to find anything in other places that isn't sewn for dolls by big folk. Even if they can make it fit, it's never designed for flying.”
Julien didn't comment. He did, after walking a bit further, start rummaging around his bag, with some difficulty due to trying to keep the rain out. A moment later, he shoved a chunk of cookie at her.
“Huh?”
“It's a cookie. If you don't want it, I'll eat it.”
Thimble snatched the morsel from his fingers before he could take it back. That was the other downside of a pixie metabolism—after flying through the cold rain for this long, she was absolutely ravenous. The piece he'd given her appeared to be roughly a quarter of the cookie (Julien took a bite of the remainder as she examined her portion) and was at least the size of her head.
She gnawed off a bite, and the taste of honey blossomed across her tongue.
“Oh, this is good!” she mumbled through a mouthful. “Is this from that bakery near the Archanade?”
“Yes.”
“Is there something special about it?” Occtis asked, curiously.
Thimble was too far back in Julien's hood to be able to see him, but she was not moving now that she'd finally started to warm up. She swallowed her oversized mouthful. “They make the best honey pastries I've ever tasted outside the Orchard. I think one of the bakers used to—” She realized abruptly this might not be the best line of conversation.
“One of their bakers used to work at the Palazzo Davinos,” Julien finished the thought, grimly. “She made a fortunate choice to have left our employ prior to the past few weeks.”
Thimble scarfed down a few more bites in the silence that followed, taking care not to drop crumbs. (Julien would bitch about her dropping crumbs down his collar even if he himself orchestrated the situation.)
“I was not recognized,” Julien snapped defensively, glancing sideways at Occtis.
“I… didn't say anything? I really doubt my father would think to go interrogate a baker who used to work for your family anyway.” He paused. “Among other things, that would probably require him to think of commoners as actual people. …Also, you killed my brother in his bedroom, so it's pretty definite that my family knows you were in Dol-Makjar.”
Thimble could help but snicker at the thought. “'Oh, no! Julien Davinos was in our house. We must find out if he also stopped for the really good Faerie-style cookies on his way out of the city!'”
Julien huffed. “Do you want me to throw you back out in the rain? I will throw you directly into a fucking puddle.”
“No, you won't.” She took another huge bite.
“Oh, really. Why won't I?”
“If you were really gonna do that, you would have done it after I shook cold water on you. Besides, if you throw me out in the rain now, this piece of cookie is going to get ruined, and you wouldn't want to waste part of your secret cookie stash.”
“I didn't say it's a secret.”
“No? You planning to share with any of the others?”
“They're mine,” said Julien, “That doesn't make them a 'secret.'”
Before she could respond, Kattigan, up ahead, tilted his head back to scan across the canopy and what bits of gray sky were visible through it. He turned, grinning. “Looks like it's letting up!” The fact that his words were audible at this distance was telling in itself. A moment later, some weak rays of sunlight even filtered down through the trees as the downpour continued to rapidly diminish.
Thimble leaned forward for a better view, hugging the handkerchief around her and shivering at the thought of braving the chill again. It was hard to gauge Julien's expression from beneath his ear, but: “Uh, Julien? …Can I stay here a little longer?”
She couldn't see the sarcastic eye roll from her vantage point, but she could hear it in his tone and the heavy sigh. “If you must.”
A moment later, he fished into his bag for another (allegedly not secret) honey cookie, and grumpily offered her a piece.
“I'm still working on the first one.” Thimble nestled further down into her now-cozy little cocoon, leaning her head against the side of his neck as she watched the remnants of the rain patter down. “And, Julien? Thanks.”