#i probably need to take them slower like i did with the consonants lol

[cornflowershade]

guess who finished learning all 44 thai consonants on friday 🎉

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 18 ~ The sweet torture of dreams

Hidden Depths

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Genre: Fantasy whump

CW: ... *whispers angst* ... okay but its cute to start XD then uh, some nightmares of slicy stabby times, pretty short ones tbh, but uh, blood, blink and you'll miss it forced to watch, and a little knife to throat action

WC: 1965

In which things are going well for once! Except for... sleeping. Who needs that, though?

AN: This is the part where I confess my complete lack of knowledge in regards to lip reading aside from a very quick research session which mostly consisted of me talking to myself in the mirror 😅 So uh, keep that in mind and we'll all be good lol

With this chapter, we are up to date with where I am in my writing. While I did complete the bitch chapter (the one after this), I'm not happy with it yet, so I'm going to take a couple weeks to make sure that I am happy with it, because it's kinda pivotal to get these guys to where I want them to be. So, thank you in advance for your patience! <3

Resh

Like this? Resh asked, moving his hand through a series of motions that evidently meant something like ‘the way is clear’. Not exactly sure why he’d need to know that, but… 

Orla peered at him intently from across the table. “Two words?” she asked, a little uncertainly. “I think the first started with an ‘L’?”. 

Seated beside Orla, Carr repeated the sign for Resh, showing him which part he’d messed up while she finished chewing the chunk of bread she’d just ripped off. 

“Say it again, Resh, slower,” Carr said after she’d washed the mouthful down, grimacing at the taste of the ale. 

They were several days out from the capital now, and the towns and villages had grown few and far between. Their necessarily slow progress, due to the multiple stops they now took to preserve Carr’s sanity, meant sometimes they stayed in less than ideal accommodations, but Resh didn’t mind. 

Carr narrated the movements of his lips, coaching Orla on the sounds the letters made. “You got the la sound. Mostly, you aren’t gonna get the middle sounds, you gotta watch for the ones that make visible movements… Just the first word, now…” 

Resh obeyed, feeling a little silly. 

“See there, how his mouth made a kinda, uh, clacking motion? That’s a ka sound. So only two um, what did you call them?” 

“Consonants,” Orla chimed in. “So, a two-syllable word? Probably?” 

Carr gave his sister the side-eye at her use of the word syllable, and Resh suppressed a smile, not wanting Carr to think he was laughing at her. 

“Sure.” Carr drew out the word, eliciting a giggle from Orla. “So you have a word with two whatevers, begins with la and has a ka in the middle or at the end. Can you think of any words like that?” 

Orla hummed, stirring the thin, slightly oily soup in front of her. “Look, lick, like, lack, leak, luck, lurk–”

“Alright, alright, you know a lot, apparently.” Carr lifted her bowl, draining the rest of the broth, then wiped her mouth on her sleeve. 

“Now you gotta use some context, and like, get rid of some of those. Look has stuff in the middle that don’t fit the shapes Resh made with his mouth. And why would he be talkin ‘bout leeks? Nasty vegetable, if you ask me.” She wrinkled her nose, leveling a glare at the offending bowl. 

“Not that kind of leak!” Orla protested, and Resh started shaking with silent laughter. 

Carr passed a hand over her eyes. “Wouldn’t be talkin ‘bout that, either, fuckin shit, kid.” She had Resh repeat the words and the sign, which he did after looking longingly at his food. “He wants to know if he’s doing it right, which…” 

Resh made a small correction, smiling when Carr grinned at him. 

“Now he is. So–” 

“Like!” Orla shouted, causing the people further down the bench to swivel their heads in their direction. She hunched her shoulders. “Sorry.” 

“Yeah,” Carr said, ruffling her short curls.

Now that they were out of the capital, Orla seemed less self-conscious about the length of her hair, although that was likely inspired by Carr’s strangely appealing, self-cut hair. Resh wasn’t sure how the short, ragged lengths of red-gold resembled anything but a hack job done without using a mirror or giving a shit how it turned out (which was exactly the case), but somehow it worked for her.

They switched teaching roles now, Orla using his notebook to show her the letters that made the sounds Carr referred to, then the word like. Resh took the opportunity to eat, softening his bread in the lukewarm soup before taking a bite. 

Thankfully, no one in this town–if you could even call this place a town–had been a dick, so with any luck, Carr wouldn’t feel the need to kill anyone here. Not that he could blame her for the last incident, although before he’d learned about the serving girl, he’d been… unhappy that she’d gotten her hands dirty because he’d frozen. 

Unhappy. He almost snorted at the thought. Embarrassed, more like. But it helped his pride a bit that he could still haggle with the merchants and innkeepers. Most of the population was at least semi-literate, but on the occasions they weren’t, he had Orla translate for him, using gestures and expressions to express his intentions.    

All in all, aside from the difficulties at the start, this trip was going pretty well. 

Carr was acting more comfortable around him after their talk. She got along well with Orla. Resh dared to hope they might all be able to make a life together once they found a place to settle. 

A yawn cracked his jaw, and he reached to cover his mouth with his gloved hand. Managing to sleep more than an hour or two a night was… a problem, ensuring that he was perpetually tired these days. Carr shot him a knowing look before returning her attention to the notebook, her gaze flickering over the glove he’d put back on before they entered the inn. 

Resh scrunched his nose. He was working on the whole covering-up thing. It just didn’t seem worth it to invite questions in a place they wouldn’t be staying at for more than a night.  

~~~

The breeze the small window admitted to their room was barely enough to stir the stuffy, too-warm air inside. Cloud cover blocked the light of the stars and most of the moon’s silver glow. 

Resh stared into the darkness, hugging the thin blanket from his pallet on the floor to his chest. 

One of the girls mumbled in their sleep before settling back into the soft rhythms of sleep. 

He was so tired. But they were sharing a room. If he had a nightmare, he might wake someone; Carr most likely, as she was a light sleeper. Resh didn’t especially want her to see him like that again. 

Running travel scenarios and possible destinations through his mind didn’t much help distract from the occasional creak in the hall that made his heart jump or keep the shifting shadows from looking like ominous versions of… he yawned, his eyes drifting closed against his will. 

A knee dug sharply into his stomach, driving all the air from his lungs while abusing bruised muscle and mutilated skin. His fingers clenched around the chains stretching his arms out while Marcus took his sweet time carving another searing line into his flesh.  It hurt, but it was still better than other options. Resh clenched his jaw, trying not to give the bastard the satisfaction of hearing his pain.  The prince moved, which at least allowed Resh to breathe again. But the dagger moved too, dragging across his chest, his abdomen, crossing some of Marcus’ previous handiwork, leaving trails of blood and burning lines of pain that burst into bright sparks, shooting throughout his body.  He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears as Marcus’ fingers replaced the bite of the blade, digging cruelly into lacerated flesh, trailing in such a familiar manner over Resh’s body that he wanted to claw what was left of his own skin off.  

Resh’s eyes snapped back open, and he drew in a sharp breath, curling his legs up to his chest. Not there not there not there. 

He wanted to get up, wanted to leave the room, go for a walk, do anything but lie there, but his body felt frozen. If he moved, that shadow over there would see him, would stop him, would… no, no it wouldn’t. That shadow was just a shadow. It couldn’t hurt him. He took another shuddering breath. 

Happy memories, maybe? If he thought about his childhood, maybe his dreams would reflect those memories instead. Resh pictured his father returning from a trade route, going over the ledgers with him while baby Orla crawled around, his mother cooking something that smelled fantastic in the other room. 

His heart stopped thumping so hard at least, no longer trying to leap from his chest. His eyes drifted closed again while he built a block tower for toddler Orla, listening to her tinkling laugh when he pretended to be a monster, knocking the blocks down with a clatter…

Marcus’ laughter was one of pure joy, layering over the small, whimpering cries of the person struggling beneath his blade. Resh tried to move, to stop him, only to find his arms chained to the wall, stretching his shoulders painfully as the links clattered, taunting him.  The prince finished slicing off the person’s clothes, leaving angry lines of red splitting pale flesh. A step to the side allowed Resh to see who was with him, and he lunged against the chains, over and over, when Carr’s tear-filled eyes met his own.  He cried out with her when Marcus set the tip of his blade against her side, slowly pushing it in–

Resh bolted upright, a scream lodged in his useless throat, his heart thrumming desperately as his eyes tried to penetrate the darkness. Where was she, where was he, where… 

A sharp intake of air cut through the oppressive silence, releasing on a soft, strangled sob, and he jerked his head to the side, barely making out a bed against the wall. 

Carr. 

Barely able to breathe through the tightness squeezing his chest, he scrambled for the bed, his hands encountering a soft, warm body shifting restlessly under the sheets. 

A soft, warm body that yelped, moving with blinding speed to pin him to the floor, the sharp edge of a blade nicking his throat.   

“Gimme one good reason I shouldn’t slit your fuckin throat,” Carr hissed. 

Resh didn’t dare move, and couldn’t give a reason, not out loud, anyway. His breaths sawed in and out, too loud in the quiet room. 

“Oh gods,” Carr gasped, finally recognizing him and withdrawing her dagger. “What the fuck, Resh? Coulda killed you.” 

She didn’t seem to notice the tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. Looked like he wasn’t the only one with nightmares, then. But where the fuck had that dagger come from? 

He sat up slowly, raising his hands palm up in front of his chest in a gesture he hoped she interpreted as an apology. The bagginess of her sleep clothes formed an odd silhouette, but as far as he could tell, they were free of blood. His breathing settled a bit, and he pressed his hand to the stinging cut under his jaw. 

“Too dark t’ fuckin talk to you,” Carr muttered, sounding irritated. “You have a nightmare?” 

At his nod, she raised a hand to her cheek, found the wetness lingering there. “Fuck,” she said, scrubbing her face. “You okay?” 

Resh couldn’t care less about himself right now. He pointed to her, tilting his head. 

“‘M fine,” she said, too quickly. 

Of course she was. He was starting to think she was just as fine as he was. 

Which was not fine at all, was it. 

“You wanna go back t’ sleep?” she asked. 

Fuck no. He shook his head, leaning against the wall under the window with a sigh. Carr moved to join him, her shoulder lightly brushing against his. He waited for her to pull away, but she didn’t. 

If anything, she moved closer, her warmth searing through the thin cloth of his nightshirt. 

“Your sister sleeps like a rock, huh,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees. 

Resh snorted, the release of air loud enough to acknowledge her words. Orla could sleep through anything. A good thing, considering the current situation, he supposed. The band around his chest slowly loosened as they sat there, Carr’s presence at his side a continuous reassurance. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed she had been caught too.

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Image Description

[ID: The banner is a blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths are written in white above the eyes. Any other images are purely decorative lines. end ID]