#it's a pre-canon canon divergent where Thomas was Princess Cologne's original owner

[checkurselfb4umachuwreckurself]

Hey! It’s another Arclight Day, isn’t it. I feel kinda obligated to write something for IV since I wrote one for III, so I decided to edit an old piece that was actually a school assignment.

“Kiln” 1.6k.

Sometimes we don’t outgrow our favourite toys. Sometiems we hold onto them through our roughest patches. Sometimes we treat them like we treat ourselves.

(Warning for IV being fucking terrifying, and also... First person writing [I’m so sorry it was necessary for the class, please forgive me it won’t happen again])

“Don’t touch her!” my owner, Thomas, snapped at his little brother. “Michael, you’re way too careless to touch Cologne.”

“He isn’t to me...” I thought, remembering the time Michael had once snuck in and showed me some ancient pottery that he found on an expedition with their shared father. Since I am not a blessed doll who can talk, I stood motionless, not saying a word I thought. He was a little boring, but he was a kind child.

Once Thomas had managed to shoo Michael out of his room, he locked the door and removed me from my stand holder. “Don’t worry about him, Princess. You’re safe with me.” he whispered, brushing my straight blonde hair and untying the oversized bow that has caused me to wobble whenever I stood without support of Thomas or my stand holder. He hummed, stroking the brush ever so gently, seemingly unlike how he treats his brother. I heard the rip of velcro I’ve heard so many times before, and noticed Thomas placed me onto his bed in nothing more than my bloomers. I wouldn’t have blushed, even if I was made of flesh, rather than my smooth porcelain. I had nothing to worry about; he’d be back in a minute with a different dress to put me in.

I don’t exactly have a means of time recording, but it felt like Thomas was gone for longer than he usually was. I turned my head as much as my nonexistent neck could, seeing that he had most definitely left. The lights were on, but no one was home- just me. I saw a man who I had never seen before walk past the doorway, turn around, go to switch the lights off, but pause instead when he saw me almost staring at him. He sighed, picking me up, whispering “I’m sorry I- I didn’t see you there.” He gave a sheepish smile. “My brother will be back. He had to go run an errand for father.”

“Brother?” I thought. “Thomas has an older brother? Why have I not seen him before? I only remember seeing Michael.”

The boy must have read my mind, saying, “my name is Christopher. If you don’t mind, I could put you in an outfit and put you back in your cabinet.”

I quickly realized Thomas never came back with my outfit, so I was more than relieved to see “Christopher” walk my way holding an outfit. He quickly put it on me, deciding to brush my hair, despite it already being tangle-free and flawless. Seeing his long silver hair, I figured he might understand hair care more than Thomas.

Putting my brush down, he sighed, for what felt like the billionth time today. “I don’t know where Tommy is, really” he nonchalantly said, tying a matching ribbon in my hair.

“His name is Thomas! Don’t be so casual with someone as perfect as him!” I thought, desperately wishing he could hear.

“Does Michael usually do this?” Chris asked me, clearly not expecting an answer. “Whenever Tommy is out, he asks him to keep his princess in order?” He smirked.

If I could move, I would have socked him for those cruel words. “How dare you act like Thomas leaves me! This has to be a one-time thing!”

“My brothers are so strange.” Chris sighed again, still in a compassionate smirk. “Mikey with his artifacts, Tommy with his dolls. And look at me! I’m talking to one of them!” He laughed a little too loud for someone alone in a room that he shouldn’t have even be in. He picked me up off the bed and put me back into my stand in the empty cabinet. “I hope you know how much he loves you. You have an entire display all to yourself. Even Mikey puts little arrowheads around his favourite statue. He’ll be back in a bit. Tomorrow at the latest.”

He didn’t turn my spotlight on, but left the room anyways. Flipping the main light switch, he left me in complete darkness. If I could sleep, I would. If I could cry, I already would have started.

---

I had not seen Thomas in quite some time. Michael wandered in once or twice, slipping a tacky necklace with a rock with a hole in it (a “Hag Stone”, he called it. Not a name suited for a princess at all) on me, giving a weak smile, whispering that he hadn’t seen Thomas either. Chris hadn’t returned at all, for which I was extremely grateful for.

I stayed there in my case for another long while, not seeing anyone come in. Not Michael, not Chris, not the “father” they all had mentioned on occasion. I waited in darkness. I waited in silence.

I heard a whimper.

I looked close and saw something on Thomas’ bed. The door was open. Was it Duke? Was Thomas’ dog in the room? That mutt- despite him saying it was purebred- shouldn’t be anywhere near me or my sister dolls.

It wasn’t Duke though.

It was Thomas.

Thomas was curled up on the bed, whimpering or whining about something. The lights were off, so I couldn’t get a good impression of what he was doing. He must have finished, because I saw him get up and walk to the lights. For the first time in what seemed like forever, light flooded my glass bead eyes. He walked over to me, his hand resting on his right side, covering half of his face, especially his eye.

“Cologne. I’m- I’m so sorry.” he rasped.

“An apology? Why? What happened? Thomas, are you alright?” I thought, begging the gods to allow me to speak even just this once.

He shifted his hand, revealing a large scar, digging up a majority of his face. His right eye was pale, unlike his usual deep berry. “A fire, Cologne. He wanted me to burn. …I’m nothing to him, Princess.” he whispered, not even looking at me, tracing the crusted mark on his cheek. “There are more on my chest and arms. But I assume you understand, don’t you?”

“I don’t!” I wanted to yell. “Who hurt you? Who is he? Why did they want you to “burn”?”

He opened my case, taking me out to sit on his bed. Gently, he touched my right cheek, sighing. “You are perfect. No flaws, no snares. You are so delicate, but I’m here to protect you.” His finger curled with a twitch on his face, turning the stroke into a scratch. “If only someone was here to protect me. Maybe I could be as happy as you…”

I did not have anything to say to that remark.

“Princess, Princess, Princess.” he cooed, curling a strand of my hair around his finger. Thomas wasn’t normally like this. Thomas wasn’t like this at all. “I’ve missed seeing someone as untainted as you.” His hand shot from my waist straight to his eye, giving a shout of pain. He hissed, drawing the fear from my heart. The corners of his lips then turned up wickedly “But,” he started, softly laughing, “we aren’t alike. Not anymore. I’m broken. You’re flawless.” He then looked at me. Blankly. I’d cower away if I could have. Thomas was nothing like this.

He got up, causing me to flop down onto the bed, no longer being in his lap. He held a scalpel up, the silver reflecting from the light overhead. He picked me up, tipping up my chin, whispering “We… we could match, Cologne.” He placed the tip on my cheek. “A shared scar. No one could judge. If someone as beautiful as you looked like this? Then what’s the worst they could say about me?” I’d look horrified if my expression wasn’t rooted as it is now. “I even have a replacement blind eye for you. We’d match to a T.”

I wanted to move. I wanted to scream. The metal was touching me, trying to penetrate my porcelain. I felt as if it cut me I would shatter. I felt shattered.

The scalpel fell.

Thomas fell.

He was on the ground while the scalpel rolled away near the bed. I could hear noises of Thomas getting sick onto the floor. Michael ran in, going to comfort Thomas and move a rubbish bin underneath him. Chris walked in with a mop, and the two walked him to the bathroom.

In their hurry they left the lights on. I thought the burning light would melt my skin off; I was so unused to its torture. Michael returned a whiles later, picking me off the bed. He brushed his finger on the mark Thomas left. “What happened?” He whispered.

I wish I could have told him. I wish I could have clung to him. He could repair me. I was sure. I didn’t know if the gash could be fixed, but I didn’t want to stop being protected. I wanted to be safe. It’s all I ever wanted.

Michael put me in my stand holder in my cabinet, turned off the lights, then left.

The lights stayed off much longer than they had before. The bleak room left me cold, and it was a mystery as to why he left; why none of his brothers checked in on me. I knew even if it wasn’t me he was coming for, I was sure he would look in his room for any one of the other puppets or dolls in his collection. My blank “tears” were blocked by glass, so I had no choice to keep my emotions inside. I was confused, and I was hurt.

I figured it soon enough however.

My “Thomas” was gone.