Archive of Our Own

In the end, it was Hugo’s mercy that saved them.

Amicia didn’t remember much after the arrow. Just a sharp explosion of pain across her stomach—worse even than the glancing blow to her shoulder last night—followed by Arnaud’s bellow of rage and Hugo screaming her name.

Then, darkness.

She stirred at a deep rumble in the earth, unable to do more than dig her fingers into wet sand while shouts and screams rent the air. When had they left the boat…?

“Hugo…” She whispered, the word sliding soundlessly from lips that tasted like salt and blood. She struggled to open her eyes—to move, to goddamn act—but the darkness claimed her once more.

The next time she awoke was to another rumble beneath her cheek—this one as familiar as it was surprising. She took a shuddering breath, her eyes snapping open when the cart hit a bump and sent a flare of white-hot agony through her stomach. “What the hell—!"

“Don’t move,” a gruff voice instructed, a hand pressing against her shoulder to prevent her from rising.

She tried anyways. “Get your hands off me, you goddamn pig!”

“Shh…stop shouting,” Arnaud said, his face swimming into focus above her while she panted furiously. “Breathe.”

“Amicia!”

She bit back on a cry of pain when Hugo flung himself at her, her arms automatically coming up to catch him. “Hugo!”

“Careful, Hugo. Mind her injuries,” Lucas said from where he was sitting beside Sophia at the front of the cart.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Sophia said, shooting her a smile over her shoulder when she croaked out their names in relief.

“We’re alright, Amicia,” Lucas said reassuringly, twisting to face her and managing a weak smile. “We got away.”

Sophia snorted. “Barely. This has been a hell of a day.”

“Yes, well, we’re as safe as we’ll ever be now,” Arnaud said, sitting across from her with a grunt. He still looked the worse for wear, his face bruised and bloody from his imprisonment with the Count’s men.

“Safe?” Amicia asked disbelievingly, gently disentangling herself from her brother’s embrace. “How are we safe? What happened?”

“I pulled us from the boat after you went down. No other option.” He wearily shook his head, resting his arm on his knee before stretching out the other leg. “I knew Victor wouldn’t give up so easily, but it bought us some time—especially with your brother so determined to avenge you.”

“Hugo…!” She swiveled to stare at him, aghast.

He met her gaze defiantly. “I thought the Count killed you!”

“It certainly looked that way,” Arnaud agreed, scrubbing his face. “I dragged you both from the water, and Lucas had just finished cleaning your wound when Victor ambushed us on the beach.”

“I killed him,” Hugo interjected, trembling from a mixture of fury and fear. “I killed them all!”

“Calm down, Hugo! I’m alright—we’re both alright,” Amicia said soothingly, taking his hand and waiting until his shaking subsided before meeting Arnaud’s gaze. “What will happen to the rest of his men?”

“The same as what happened to mine—they’ll scatter to the wind.”

“They won’t come after us?”

“With the island in chaos and no one left to pay them? Doubtful.” He raised his eyebrows, his look meaningful. “It’s still best if we disappear.”

“That was the plan anyways,” she said, wrapping an arm around Hugo’s shoulders and wincing when the movement tugged at her stomach. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding, “Our mother has…had a house in the mountains north of Provence. We’ll be safe there.”

Arnaud gazed at her for a long moment, his expression inscrutable while he considered the unspoken offer. Finally, he shrugged. “Why not? The more distance between us and that godforsaken island, the better.”

“Then it’s decided. We head towards the mountains and hole up until things calm down,” Sophia said, glancing back at them. Her voice was casual, but the words eased some of the weight from her shoulders.

“In that case, we should stop soon,” Lucas suggested, his expression worried. “I need to clean the rest of Amicia’s wounds—yours too, Arnaud—and it’s better we do that on solid ground.”

“Yes! We should stop soon,” Hugo echoed. He was watching her carefully, as though still not entirely convinced she was okay. “Amicia needs to rest.”

“So do you,” she said softly, her eyes on the blackened veins stretching across his hands and cheeks.

They lapsed into silence, the only noise the horses and the constant clatter of the wheels as they headed inland.

Every jerky motion of the cart sent a wave of fire through her midsection. She bowed her head and clenched her teeth, taking deep breaths through her nose.

“Here.” Arnaud pulled a vial from the pouch on his belt and held it out for her to take. “For the pain. We use it on the battlefield.”

Amicia threw it back in one go, choking at its bitterness. He watched her grimace and press a hand to her side, a spark of concern in his eyes. "It'll kick in soon."

She took a breath and exhaled, relieved when the pain slowly ebbed after a minute. “Thank you…for everything.”

“Yes, well…” He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting toward Hugo. “I owe you both. For coming back for me.”

“We almost didn’t,” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. What she meant was I almost didn’t.

He seemed to read the thought on her face anyways, because he gave a sharp snort of laughter. “Goddamn feral girl.”

The words were strangely affectionate, startling a smile from her despite the howling, tangled pit of grief lodged in her chest.

They made camp in late afternoon, Sophia vanishing into the forest while Lucas tended to the worst of their injuries. She reappeared a while later, depositing a sack of provisions near the cart to exclamations of delight from Lucas and Hugo.

“Better not to ask questions,” Sophia advised in response to her questioning look, which Amicia took to mean she’d either stolen it or the previous owners no longer had a use for it.

Sophia took first watch, taking a seat near the campfire while the rest of them attempted to get some sleep.

Hugo fidgeted restlessly beside her for several minutes, his brow furrowed. He stilled when she placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to be a monster anymore,” he whispered, the light from the fire reflecting in his wide eyes.

Amicia inhaled sharply, momentarily glancing toward the others. Arnaud and Lucas appeared to be asleep, but Sophia was doing that thing where she pretended not to listen. She was good at that.

“You're not,” she breathed, tugging him closer when he looked unconvinced. “Hugo, your goodness is the only reason we’re alive right now.”

He shook his head miserably, the dark circles beneath his eyes more pronounced than ever. The past few days had taken so much from him.

A hot wave of fury swept over her when she thought about the way the Macula had twisted his hope and manipulated his desperation; had called him to its clutches like the sirens in Sophia’s stories.

She wouldn’t let it take anything else.

“Listen to me, Hugo,” Amicia said, waiting until he met her gaze before continuing in a low, fierce voice. “We’ll get to a point where things are okay again—where things are good again. It may take time, but we’ll get there.”

His fingers curled against her palm while he searched her face, and whatever he found there seemed to banish some of the clouds hanging over his head. “Will we really have a home, Amicia?”

The uncertainty—the deep weariness—in his voice pained her. But she was good at embracing pain these days.

“Yes,” she said with no hesitation. “We’ll make a new home—together.”

She’d make sure of it.

__________________

“So this it, huh?” Sophia asked, breaking the uncertain silence that’d descended when they’d entered the cabin. “It’s…charming.”

“Right. I’ve seen pigsties in better condition than this,” Arnaud said cynically, toeing at a broken clay pot.

“I’m sure you have,” Amicia said sharply, in no mood for his complaining.

The long days of travel had been difficult. Her body ached, her shoulder and midsection screaming at every movement. Even with everyone taking turns on watch, she’d slept restlessly. Convinced, maybe, that someone was following them—even though there wasn’t anyone left to follow them.

“I like it!” Hugo declared, beaming like it was a palace.

“Me too,” Lucas said with a smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's very nice."

It was nice, if a little run-down. Years of neglect had left several holes in the roof and a thick layer of dusty cobwebs, but it was spacious, with a stone hearth and solid furniture.

“You see that, Arnaud?” Amicia said loftily, dropping her voice several octaves to mimic his. “That is the right attitude.”

“Very funny.”

“This place has been empty a long time. It just needs some work,” Sophia said, her eyes dancing when he scoffed. “Surely you’re up to the task.”

“Yes! You’ll help us, right?” Hugo asked, gripping his sleeve and smiling sweetly.

She exchanged grins with Sophia and Lucas when Arnaud visibly deflated. “Yes, yes, alright. Let’s get started on this mess.”

Over the next few weeks, they slowly transformed the place into a home. It gave her bittersweet recollections of turning Château d’Ombrage into someplace comfortable and safe—and how their home there had been destroyed in a heartbeat, just like the one before it.

It will be different this time, she told herself again and again like a mantra. She had to believe it, because if she didn’t, then Hugo wouldn’t.

Despite these quiet moments of doubt, having the others with them did make a difference—even if there were still days Arnaud drove her mad.

“No, like this—see?”

“That’s not how you do it,” Amicia insisted, tugging the rope from his hands. “If you want the snare to work, you have to tie it like this.”

“I’ve done this before, goddammit,” Arnaud said, scowling at her when she huffed. He reached for the rope before she’d even finished tying the knot, but she just held on tighter. “I’m telling you that’s not how you do it!” 

“Like hell it isn’t!”

“Listen to me for once, you damn mule!”

Hugo was helping Lucas tend to their newly planted garden, but he looked up at the words. “Hey! Don’t be mean to her.”

“I’m not the one being difficult, shorty,” Arnaud grumbled even as he relinquished his hold and retrieved another length of rope to tie.

“My hero.” Amicia shot Hugo a smile as she finished tying the knot. “There, this is the right way.”

Before he could offer a retort, Sophia appeared in the doorway carrying two fishing rods. “Ah, you two haven’t finished with those yet?”

“We’re having creative differences,” Arnaud said, holding up his own knot. “Girl thinks she understands traps just because she can hunt.”

“Oh, because you know everything,” Amicia said hotly, glowering at him while Sophia peered over her shoulder.

They stared at her when she laughed. “These are both right—you’ve made different types of snares.”

Lucas and Hugo giggled at their identical sour expressions, but Sophia just shook her head in amusement. “Come, Amicia—leave the great knight to his traps. I’m teaching you and the boys how to fish today.”

“Yes please!” Hugo said, jumping up and running over to them. Amicia took his hand, returning his bright smile. “Let’s catch some fish!"

“That’s the spirit,” Sophia said, ruffling his hair before leading them into the forest to a nearby stretch of river.

Summer was in full swing, and the forest was alive with greenery and sound. Amicia let her gaze roam skyward while they walked, only half-listening to Lucas and Hugo’s chatter.

They stopped along a calm patch of river, the trees casting ample shade along the rocks and rushes growing along the bank.

Sophia was a patient teacher—she walked them through the signs of good fishing spots before showing them how to bait and cast the line. Hugo lost interest after a few minutes, wandering farther down the bank to crouch in a patch of wildflowers while they chose spots to cast their lines.

“Now, we wait,” Sophia said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Fishing is all about patience and timing.”

“Fishing is boring,” Hugo said petulantly, missing the grins they exchanged.

“Oh!” Lucas exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention as his line went taut. “I think I got one—ahh!”

He gave a strangled shout as he lost his footing, splashing water everywhere as he fell.

“Lucas!” Amicia scrambled over to where he’d fallen, but he was already sitting up. She laughed and held out a hand, pulling him to his feet. “You’re supposed to reel in the fish—not the other way around!”

“It must’ve been a very big fish,” Lucas panted, pushing wet hair from his face.

“Or a very slippery rock,” Sophia said slyly, her eyes dancing with amusement as she handed him the rod again.

Hugo rejoined them, a huge smile on his face. “I was wrong! Fishing is very exciting. Can I fish with you, Lucas?”

“Yes! Let’s try this again—less falling this time.”

Amicia smiled as she watched them chose another spot along the bank. She moved to retrieve her rod from where she’d dropped it, but Sophia stopped her with a touch to her arm.

“How are you doing, Amicia?” She asked, examining her closely. She smelled like the lavender they’d used to sweeten the air at the house in Guyenne—it grew around the mountains in abundance, and they’d hung dried bouquets of it around the cabin.

She opened her mouth, intent on insisting she was fine, but hesitated when she realized her eyes were wet.

“There, now. None of that,” Sophia said softly, gently brushing a hand along her head.

They’d cut her hair completely off a few days after arriving here, but—even a month later—it was still strange to be without her braid.

"I-I don't—" She swallowed past the lump in her throat, hating the burn in her eyes. “Why does this still feel so difficult?”

Sophia released a long breath, retrieving the fishing rod before leading her to sit on one of the rocks. They watched the water flow past, the leaves rustling above their heads in the breeze.

“It’s like captaining a boat,” Sophia said thoughtfully, meeting her gaze when she swiveled to look at her. “You can’t do everything on the ship yourself, but you’re not meant to. It’s why you have a crew.”

She placed a hand on her arm. “My point is—you don’t have to do things alone anymore. And maybe some days will always be difficult, but those are the days you lean on us. Okay?”

“Okay,” Amicia said, wiping at her eyes and managing a smile.

“That’s more like it,” she said approvingly, pushing to her feet and holding out a hand to help her up. “Now, how about you catch us dinner so you can gloat about it to Arnaud?”

Amicia huffed out a laugh, tugging her into a hug before she could turn away. “I’m so glad we met you, Sophia.”

She could hear the smile in her voice when she murmured, “Me too, sweetheart.”

__________________

“Amicia, look!”

She glanced up from mending the shirt in time to watch Hugo leap into a pile of leaves and vanish, laughing when he reemerged a moment later. “That pile is as tall as you are!”

“But I’m taller,” Hugo asserted, making her grin. He sank into the stool at the foot of the stump she was sitting on, resting his chin on his palm while he surveyed the yard with a thoughtful frown. “It’s very quiet without the others.”

It was unusually quiet today. Sophia had accompanied Lucas farther up the mountain to stock up on herbs before winter while Arnaud checked their snares. With all the chores done for the day, they’d decided to spend the afternoon enjoying the temperate fall weather after a recent bout of chilly rain.

Amicia placed aside the shirt and plucked a leaf from his hair, twirling it between her fingers. “They’ll be back soon.”

As if on cue, Arnaud’s voice drifted from behind the cabin. “Amicia! Hugo! Come here—I have something to show you.”

They exchanged bemused looks before heading to the run-down pen out back. It’d likely been used to house pigs at one point, but they’d repurposed it into simple stables for their horses.

Arnaud grinned when he spotted them, hooking his thumbs in his belt and nodding at the pen. “Take a look.”

“A goat!” Hugo exclaimed, clambering up the side of the enclosure to peer down at the small creature. “It’s a baby.”

“I ran into the goat herder while I was checking the traps,” Arnaud said, sounding pleased with himself. “He traded it for some of our game. I figured it’d be nice to have our own milk and cheese.”

During their first few days at the cabin, she’d scouted the area with him and discovered a provincial town tucked into the base of the mountains to the north. They’d unanimously agreed to stay clear of it until Hugo was better, but they still occasionally ran into the local goat herder whenever he took his flock into the mountains.

“She’s wonderful,” Amicia said with feeling, prompting a genuine smile from him. She climbed into the muddy pen and petted its head, prompting a bleat. “We’ll have to think of a name.”

They joined her inside the enclosure, Hugo hanging back beside Arnaud. He frowned down at him. “What’s wrong, shorty? Surely you’re not scared of it.”

“No! But…what if it screams at us?” Hugo asked, pressing closer to him as he eyed the goat nervously.

“Not all goats scream.” Amicia placed a hand on his head, suppressing a smile. “Remember Tramontane? She was nice.”

“That’s true,” Hugo conceded, still looking uncertain. “But that other goat wasn’t.”

“Well, in that case—you just have to scream back,” Arnaud said confidently, winking at Amicia when she snorted.

“Scream back?”

She suppressed a grin at his wide-eyed expression. “I think he’s right. Want to try?”

“Yes!”

“Arnaud is going to scream too, right?”

His lips twitched behind his beard. “I’d like nothing better.”

Hugo beamed. “On three—one, two, THREE!”

“AHHH!” They yelled, making the goat skitter away.

“Good! Just like that. Bloody show her who’s boss,” Arnaud said once they’d stopped laughing, ruffling Hugo’s hair. “Go introduce yourself, shorty.”

Amicia sat on the fence right as Sophia and Lucas emerged from the forest. She waved at them. “Sophia! Lucas!”

“Did we hear screaming?” Lucas asked as they joined her by the fence.

“Yes!” Hugo answered, beaming at them from where he was crouched next to the goat petting it. “Arnaud brought us a goat, and then we screamed at it so we weren’t afraid!”

Sophia arched an eyebrow, her lips curling up. “Oh? So we screech like birds of prey and Arnaud screams like a goat?”

“Well, he certainly smells like a goat,” Amicia said, grinning—only to shriek with indignation when Arnaud pushed her off the fence and into the mud. She sat up, staring at him in furious disbelief. “You bastard!”

“The look on your face!” He threw back his head and laughed—only to grunt when she nailed him in the cheek with a well-placed shot. “You little—!”

“Not so funny now, is it?” Amicia taunted, pushing to her feet while he tried to wipe the muck from his face. “Oh, is the Wall afraid of a little mud?”

She instinctively ducked when he lobbed a handful of mud at her, hitting Hugo instead.

“Hey!” Hugo yelped, scowling fiercely. He scooped up two handfuls of mud and advanced on Arnaud while Amicia cheered him on.

Arnaud backed away, shooting a look over his shoulder at Sophia. “A little help here would be nice.”

“Oh, no,” Sophia said, quickly backing away with her hands up. “You know how I feel about the earth. Besides, you started this—finish your own fight.”

“Arnaud the Insidious, you’ll pay for your crimes today!” Amicia declared, grabbing more mud and joining her brother in the assault. "Charge!"

Sophia and Lucas beat a hasty retreat as mud flew through the air, sparing none of them. They left the pen a while later, breathless and covered head to toe in mud.

She thought it was a little telling that it was the nicest muck she’d been in all year.

__________________

Amicia pulled her furs tighter around her shoulders, grateful for the protection against the biting cold.

Winter had settled like a blanket over the mountains, covering everything in snow and ice until it was almost unrecognizable.

She and Lucas had taken advantage of the sunny, cloudless day to gather more firewood near the cabin. The snow crunched beneath their boots while they walked, their breath escaping in giant white plumes.

“Amicia,” Lucas said tentatively, breaking the comfortable silence. He readjusted the wood in his arms, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “There’s…something I’ve wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “With Hugo doing so well lately and the possibility that the plague is calming down…I want to continue my studies.”

She was quiet for a moment, adding a broken branch to her own armful of wood. “Okay.”

“You’re not upset?” Lucas asked, his voice breaking on the last word.

“Oh Lucas, of course not,” Amicia said sincerely, facing him. “Hugo and I thought you might want to return to your studies eventually, especially after everything with…”

She trailed off, her throat tightening at the thought of her mother. Even months later, her loss felt as keen as it though it’d just happened. “We’re lucky you’ve stayed with us as long as you have.”

“It won’t be for forever! I’ll come back,” he said earnestly, shifting from foot to foot to keep warm. “There’s just still so much to learn—about alchemy, the world…maybe even about the Macula.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said, smiling at him as they continued walking. “Just focus on learning about the things you want to—and on becoming a great sorcerer!”

They returned to the cabin and deposited the wood onto the pile at its front. Lucas moved toward the door, but Amicia stopped him with a touch to his shoulder. “Lucas…thank you for everything. You’re the most reliable, steady…nice thing in the world.”

He ducked his head, his cheeks pink. “I don’t know about all that, but…you and Hugo are my home now. You’re family.”

“And we’ll still be here when you’re ready to return,” she said quietly, squeezing his shoulder. “Come—let’s go see what mischief everyone has gotten into while we were gone.”

He smiled, warm and bright, before pushing inside the cabin.

Things change, she mused, closing the door behind them as Hugo excitedly greeted them and Sophia tugged them closer to the fire. Arnaud was stirring a pot of stew, but he spared them a smile before moving aside to let them warm up.

Yes, life moved forward—but it didn’t have to be a bad thing.

__________________

“He’s doing better.”

Amicia glanced up from skinning the rabbit and followed Arnaud’s gaze toward the side of the cabin.

Hugo was brushing Cecile next to the garden, chatting to her like she was the best conversationalist in the kingdom. A few chickens pecked the ground around them, a byproduct of Arnaud’s occasional trips into town the past month.

“Better we lay the foundation now to avoid suspicion,” he’d explained, patting Hugo’s head when he’d pouted at being excluded from a potential adventure. “Give it another month or so and I’ll take you both with me.”

“This helps,” she said quietly, absently scanning the surrounding forest. Spring had set in with wild abandon, the air filled with birdsong and the faint, earthy scent of the forest. “Having a home. Being safe.”

They’d found a tangible sense of peace here, and it’d given Hugo time to grieve—had given them both time to grieve.

Amicia met Arnaud’s gaze, no longer surprised by the understanding she found there. It had surprised her that Arnaud was the one who’d stayed, in the end.

Sophia had been the first to leave—to heed the call of the sea once the weather had thawed—but she’d promised to return when the first leaves started falling. Lucas had left shortly after her, taking to the road to resume his studies.

Arnaud though…his presence had become a steadfast comfort in a way she hadn’t ever believed possible with their rocky, violent beginning.

“Well, it’s certainly made a difference,” he said, returning to the swing he’d been building for the better part of the afternoon. “Better than handing him over to the fucking Order.”

They’d filled him in on everything that’d happened on and before La Cuna, and the two of them had been of the same mind for once when it came to the Order’s actions.

“If they’d had their way, they would’ve locked him away to appease their goddamn egos,” Amicia said scornfully, removing the pelt in one vicious tug. “He deserved so much better than that.”

“Yes, well, that’s the thing about academics. They sit in their high towers with their books, but for all their knowledge they have no understanding of the world,” Arnaud said bluntly, shooting her a sidelong glance. “In my experience, you nobles tend to be the same way.”

She scoffed, setting aside the rabbit and wiping her hands on her pants. Game was the only time she saw blood these days, and she never stopped being grateful for it. “We’re no more nobility than you are a mercenary.”

It was his turn to scoff. “Ah, see? There’s the difference. I chose to be a mercenary. You two were born nobles.”

“Oh yeah? Then you were always meant to be a soldier?”

“Not always,” he said tersely, his gaze growing distant. “I was a father, once.”

Her expression softened. “Arnaud…”

“Never mind that,” he said, his tone curt but not unkind.

Amicia bit her lip and retrieved the rabbit, moving towards the pot already simmering over the fire. Her hands worked automatically as she prepared their dinner, her thoughts on the sword and broken shield hanging on the cabin wall.

The shield housed memories, a story hidden in every mark and gouge; in the jagged, broken edges and the way a shadow sometimes crossed his face when he looked at it.

Some memories don’t want to be let go of, he’d told her on the boat, his eyes holding the same haunted distance she’d just witnessed in his gaze.

For all their differences, they were painfully alike in that way—desperately unable to let go of things even when it hurt them.

He’d just finished setting up the swing when she rejoined him beneath the tree. “How’s it look?”

“Good.” Arnaud tugged at the ropes, testing the hold until he was satisfied. “There, that ought to do it. Shorty! Come over here.”

Hugo gave Cecile one last pet before running over to them, his face brightening with excitement when he spotted the swing hanging from the tree. “It’s perfect! Exactly like the one we found at that camp.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Amicia mused, touching the rope before directing a grateful smile at Arnaud. She hadn’t expected such a kind gesture when they’d offhandedly told him about that experience. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you!” Hugo said, hugging him.

Arnaud looked startled, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air for a brief moment before he quickly patted his head.

“Don’t mention it,” he said gruffly, scratching his beard to hide the way his lips pulled up at the corners. “Go on, give it a try.”

Hugo immediately turned to her. “You go first!”

“Oh no! It’s your turn, remember?” Amicia said with a grin, touching his head. “Go on—I’ll push you.”

She waited until he clambered onto the swing, exchanging smiles with Arnaud before saying in a conspiratorial voice, “Ready to fly?”

“Always!”

__________________

“Remember—we’re a simple family living off the land in the mountains,” Arnaud said as the trees thinned, revealing their first glimpse of the town. “I’m taking care of you two while my wife and eldest son are visiting our ailing parents in Provence.”

Even though he didn’t meet her gaze when he said it, Amicia still felt a flush of—something at the cavalier words. Instead of examining it too closely, she opted for the simpler route. “Wife? Sophia will love that.”

“Sophia understands the importance of a good cover story,” he said brusquely. It was difficult to tell for sure with his beard, but she could’ve sworn he was blushing. He cleared his throat. “Just—stick to the story and we’ll be fine.”

“Yes sir,” she said with a mock salute, exchanging grins with Hugo when Arnaud huffed. Her smile faded as they passed between the first several buildings, her grip on Hugo’s hand tightening. “Hugo, if you feel anything …”

“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll tell you if I feel funny, Amicia.”

But her worries were for nothing, and their time in town passed uneventfully. They made a final stop at the baker’s stall to trade the last of their game, the variety of loaves and cakes making her mouth water.

“Oh, it all looks so good,” Amicia said in delight, her eyes fluttering shut as she inhaled the scent of freshly baked bread. “I could eat all of it!”

“And here I thought shorty was the food lover out of the two of you,” Arnaud teased, handing over a rabbit for two loaves of bread.

But for once, Hugo wasn’t interested in the prospect of food. He was watching a group of children playing nearby, his expression wistful. Her stomach twisted. “Hugo.”

He blinked and peered up at them. “Yes? What were you saying?”

She exchanged a loaded look with Arnaud, but Hugo didn’t broach the subject until the third time they ventured into town.

They’d just passed through the town square when Hugo released her hand. Amicia turned to frown at him, the question dying on her lips when she followed his gaze to where several children played hopscotch.

Hugo bounced on his heels. “Amicia, can I go play with them?”

She hesitated, looking between his hopeful face and the group of children. “Hugo…”

She cut off when Arnaud rested a hand on her shoulder. “Relax, child. Let the boy have some fun.”

Amicia pursed her lips, an argument as to why this was a bad idea on the tip of her tongue—and then she paused, thinking about how Hugo had grown up locked away from everyone for his protection. How the Order had wanted to lock him away.

Hadn’t that been the whole point of this new life that they’d carved for themselves—that they’d fought tooth and nail for? To ensure no one ever put him in a cage again?

“Just until we’re done trading,” Amicia relented, touching his head and smiling despite herself when his face lit up. “Please be careful.”

Hugo nodded earnestly. “Yes, I will! Thank you, Amicia!”

She watched him run off, the familiar fear and worry stirring uneasily in her stomach.

Amicia glanced questioningly at Arnaud when he snorted, but he just shook his head in mild exasperation. “I’d be more worried if you went off somewhere alone—you’re a goddamn troublemaker.”

“This is different and you know it,” she retorted hotly, drawing the curious gazes of several townsfolk.

She ignored it, already used to the way people here stared at her—at her shorn hair and scars. No one ever did more than whisper, whether because it was simply the gossipy disapproval of an isolated, provincial town or Arnaud’s intimidating presence at her side.

Sure enough, they quickly averted their gazes when Arnaud shot them a hard look. His expression was gentler when he looked at her again.

“It’ll be fine,” he said with a surety she envied. She took a breath, a sharp retort on the edge of her tongue, but he just clapped a hand on her shoulder and steered her toward one of the shops. “Come, daughter. Let’s finish our business here while your brother plays.”

She was distracted while they traded, her senses on high alert for any sign of commotion, but it wasn’t until they headed back to the square that the shout she’d been bracing for finally came.

“Amicia! Amicia!”

She spun to face him, her hand already on her sling, but Hugo was smiling as he ran toward her. She released a long breath, touching his shoulder when he came to a stop in front of her. “There you are. Done playing?”

“Not yet! I want you to come with me,” he said, tugging insistently at her hand. “Come!”

She glanced at Arnaud in bemusement, but let Hugo lead her down a side street and into a courtyard where a gaggle of children were talking. “Charlotte!”

A girl no older than her brother stepped forward at the shout. “This your sister, Hugo?”

“Yes! This is Amicia,” Hugo said, looking up at her. “I told them you’re really good with the sling and they didn’t believe me!” 

The words startled a laugh from her. “Hugo!”

“If she’s so good, then can she hit all the pots?” Charlotte raised her chin, a clear challenge in her eyes as she pointed at the pots littering the far end of the courtyard.

“Easily,” Amicia said confidently, provoking giggles and shouts of disbelief.

“There’s no way!”

“Girls can’t shoot!”

“She can’t do it!”

“Hey,” Arnaud said from where he leaned against a wall, and a hush fell over the group as he surveyed them with a serious, weighted expression. “She’s not just good—she’s the best.”

Amicia stared at him, taken aback, but he just gave her a ghost of a smile and jutted his chin at the pots. “Go on. Show them.” 

Hugo puffed out his chest, releasing her hand and backing away. “Yeah, Amicia! Show them!”

Charlotte huffed. “Let’s see then.”

Amicia pulled the sling from her belt and loaded a rock, taking out the first pot before she’d even finished talking. She didn’t miss a single shot, every rock finding its target with deadly accuracy.

“Wow,” Charlotte breathed, breaking the silence that’d fallen over the courtyard when the last pot shattered.

“I told you she was really good,” Hugo said with the boastfulness only a six-year-old could manage, taking her hand and smiling proudly.

Amicia blinked when the group exploded into sound and surged around them, all of them talking at once. She glanced over their heads at Arnaud, a little overwhelmed by their vocal admiration, but he just grinned and mouthed well done.

The next time they were in town, there was a noticeable difference amongst the townsfolk—like their children’s acceptance had somehow softened their suspicion.

They’d barely taken one step into the town square when they were swarmed by the same group of children.

“Amicia, Hugo! You’re back,” Charlotte said, taking her free hand and pulling at her. “Come play with us!”

“Oh, we’d love to! Let’s go,” Hugo said with a delighted laugh, tugging at her other hand while Amicia looked helplessly over her shoulder at Arnaud. “Come on!”

“Arnaud—"

“You two have fun,” he said with more glee than she thought appropriate from a man his age.

She frowned and looked down at her brother, unable to prevent a smile at his palpable excitement. She always knew he’d be good at making friends. “Alright, why not. Let’s go!”

Arnaud’s booming laugh followed them all the way down the street.

__________________

Amicia jerked awake with a strangled cry, her heart pounding against her rib cage.

Her eyes immediately sought out Hugo in the semi-darkness, but he was still fast asleep. She swallowed and sat up, rubbing at her face with trembling hands while unease coiled in her stomach.

Lord, every time she thought she was done with the night terrors…

Arnaud shifted in the bed in the corner—he’d claimed it once Sophia left—and sat up, squinting at her in the dim glow cast by the dying fire. “Amicia…are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said in a harsh whisper, mindful of Hugo resting peacefully at her side. “Your—your damn snoring woke me.”

The lie felt weak even to her.

She tensed when she heard him cross the room. He added some kindling to the fire before resettling on the floor beside the pallet. “Another nightmare?”

Amicia nodded, not looking at him. She heard him run a hand over his beard. “Do you want me to make one of Lucas’ sleeping drafts?”

“No, that’s okay,” she said, wrapping an arm around her midsection. The drafts worked, but they made her muzzy in the morning if she took them too late. She hesitated, adding quietly, “It was about our parents.”

“Ah.” He knew what had happened to their mother, but only bits and pieces about their father’s fate. “I’m sorry. It’s never easy remembering the ones we’ve lost, but somehow…letting them go is even more difficult.”

“Yes,” Amicia agreed thickly, clenching and unclenching her fist while she willed the shaking to stop. She finally looked at him, but his gaze was locked on the shield on the wall. “Arnaud…who did you lose?”

He was quiet for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then—

“My son,” he said simply, and her breath caught at the visceral pain in his voice. When he spoke again, the words dripped with the same bitterness from La Cuna. “A casualty of war—or at least that’s what Victor liked to tell me.”

He spat the name like a curse. The Count. Of course—why else would he have been so desperate for revenge?

“I’m so sorry, Arnaud,” she said quietly, meaning it.

“It was a long time ago,” he said, tiredly shaking his head. They glanced at Hugo when he shifted on his pallet before going still, his face peaceful. “Focus on what matters to you, because when it’s gone…”

Amicia tentatively touched his arm, prompting a huff of laughter. He roughly patted her hand before covering it. “There now. I’m supposed to be comforting you, remember?”

“I told you—I’m fine,” she said, scowling at him half-heartedly.

“Hmm. How long have you had the tremor?” Arnaud asked, making no move to stop her when she retracted her hand.

“I don’t know. Maybe since…after Guyenne?”

“It’s not a mark of weakness. Neither are the nightmares,” he said quietly, his gaze direct. “No one could ever look at you and question your strength, child. Now...tell me what will help.”

Amicia took a shaky breath and shook her head, staring into the fire for a few seconds before asking hesitantly, “Can you…talk? About anything.”

She missed the constant noise the most from Château d’Ombrage. Mélie and Arthur bickering. Rodric talking to himself. Lucas reading passages aloud from books.

Lord, she missed them.

“Of course,” Arnaud said in a gentler voice than she’d ever thought him capable of. Then again, he was always surprisingly good with them at moments like this.

He leaned back against the wall, waiting until she laid down on her pallet before he started talking—about the places he’d traveled and the people he’d met.

He talked until the words blurred together; until her eyelids slid shut and she drifted to sleep, content with the knowledge that they were safe while he kept watch.

__________________

“Do you like it here?” Amicia asked Hugo when they were alone one day.

She was cooling her feet in the river while he waded in the shallows looking for stones—a new fascination, although he hadn’t quite given up his love of feathers yet.

“Yes! I like it very much,” Hugo said sincerely, plunging his hand into the water and pulling out a pebble from the riverbed. “Do you?”

“I love it, and I'm happy to be here with you,” she said, just as sincerely. She added, more quietly, “It’s like nothing I pictured but something everything I wanted.”

He nodded solemnly, splashing over to her to show her a pebble that glistened different colors in the sunlight. “It’s like…having a family again.”

Amicia hummed in agreement, curling her hand around his—still scarred from the Macula, but no longer blackened with poison.

She tried to think of a description that encompassed everything they’d found here—the things that gave echoes of their parents where she least expected it. In Arnaud’s steadiness and the feeling of safety he provided; Sophia’s wit and intuitiveness; Lucas’ kindness and patience.

It made her want to weep some days, but she was unsure whether from grief or happiness.

“You know what?” Amicia said in a conspiratorial whisper, placing her other hand on his head. “I think we do have a family again.”

“I think you’re right,” Hugo said, returning her smile. “Can we head back to the cabin? I’m getting hungry.”

“What a surprise!” She swung her legs out of the water and pulled on her boots, waiting until he’d pulled on his own boots before holding out a hand for him to take. “Come on, let’s go home.”

They cut a path through the forest, Hugo pointing out all the different wildflowers growing between the trees and shrubbery. Amicia paused when she spotted a cluster of bushes, the familiar-looking fruit making her gasp.

“What is it?” Hugo asked curiously as she led them towards the bushes and crouched to examine the fruit growing between the leaves.

“They’re raspberries,” Amicia explained, tugging one from a stem. “These used to grow in the forest back home.”

He tilted his head. “Can you eat them?”

In response, she handed the berry to him and plucked another one from the bush to pop into her mouth. He took a careful bite, his face lighting up at the sweetness. “They’re so good!”

“They’re my favorite! I used to make myself sick eating them during the summer,” Amicia admitted sheepishly, making Hugo laugh. Her face split into a wide smile. “Hey! I think we just found lunch.”

They picked berries until their stomachs were bursting, their mouths and fingers stained red. Amicia fell back into the grass after eating her last one, laughing while she rubbed her stomach. “I’m so full!”

“Me too,” Hugo groaned, flopping beside her. He faced her after a minute, his eyes impossibly bright. “Oh! We should bring some back for Arnaud!”

She sat up and ruffled his hair. “Of course! We can’t let this treasure go to waste.”

They brought back handfuls of raspberries, and—even though they were a little crushed from the journey—Arnaud smiled at them like they’d given him gold.

__________________

“Have you ever thought about growing it out again?”

“Hmm?” Amicia tore her gaze from Hugo, who was playing on the swing while Arnaud cut her hair.

“Your hair,” he said, carefully angling her head while he continued shearing the places the hair had regrown in uneven patches. “You don’t want to let it grow out?”

She caught herself just before she shook her head. “No...those days are long over.”

“Were you always this much of a handful?” Arnaud asked bluntly, the curiosity in his voice softening the words.

“Yes,” Amicia said with no hesitation, grinning when he chuckled. “I didn’t see my parents very often—my father was protecting our lands from the English and my mother was taking care of Hugo.”

“Which left the servants to watch you,” he mused, amusement lacing his words. “With how goddamn stubborn you are, I can’t imagine them saying no to you very often.”

“I was very persuasive,” she agreed, smiling softly as she recalled Louise and Gabrielle’s gentle, affectionate scoldings. “Somehow they never appreciated all the times I showed up covered in mud.”

“Ah, feral from the start. Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Arnaud snorted, gently turning her head to shear the other side.

As he did, his fingers brushed over the scar at her hairline. They lingered there for the briefest moment before he sighed and dropped his hand to her shoulder. The scissors resumed their snick snicking.

“Well, this certainly suits you,” he said gruffly, something a lot like remorse in his voice.

“Don’t get soft on me now,” Amicia ordered, gripping his hand for a second and smiling when he laughed.

“There,” Arnaud said a few minutes later, patting her shoulder. “Ready for battle again.”

“Ha! Speaking of battles…” Amicia said, brushing the loose strands of hair from her clothes as she stood. “Hugo! Come—it’s your turn.” She held out her hand, smiling when he groaned. He was so fussy about this sort of thing. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

Hugo waited until the arc of the swing was at its highest before jumping off—a new trick that never failed to make her heart lurch—and landing neatly in the grass.

“I don’t want to,” he muttered, pouting even as he accepted her hand. Amicia suppressed a smile as she led him over to the stool, knowing it would only make him sulk more.

“Come on, shorty. It’s been bothering you for weeks—you keep pushing it out of your eyes,” Arnaud reminded him, raising an eyebrow when Hugo made a face. “Well, you have two options—you can either cut your hair now or let it grow out like mine.”

Hugo stared at him for a long minute. Then, without a word, he sat in the stool.

The look on Arnaud’s face made her laugh until her stomach hurt.

__________________

“Hey Hugo,” Amicia said quietly, resting the book on her lap.

They were sitting beneath the shade of a tree outside the cabin, Hugo tucked comfortably into her side while they read one of the books Sophia had brought them. She’d returned earlier than expected with gifts and news of the outside world.

“Well, no one’s seen those bloody rats in almost a year,” she told them over dinner last night, her gaze just as sharp and bright as Amicia remembered. “And, with the rats gone, the plague has started to calm too.”

Now, Hugo waited patiently for her to continue while she gathered her thoughts. “Do you still feel them?”

She didn’t have to specify what she meant, and Hugo looked skyward while he considered the question.

For a minute, the only sound was the wind rustling the leaves above their head and Arnaud humming off-tune while he chopped firewood. He was in great spirits today. They all were. It was good to have Sophia back again.

“When we first got here, I could feel them following us,” Hugo finally said, pressing a hand against the ground. “But…they’re not there anymore. It’s almost like…they’re sleeping.”

“Maybe…maybe when the Carrier is safe, the Macula has nothing to feed on,” Amicia said, absently twisting Aelia’s ring on her finger. “Maybe it—and the rats—go dormant.”

“Like the island,” he reminded her. “They were dormant there too before…before everything.”

“You’re right,” she said softly, gently grasping his wrist and holding his hand up to the warmth of the sun while she examined the faded white scars stretching across his skin.

“You were right, Amicia. About finding a home—about it helping,” Hugo said, pressing closer into her side.

She wrapped her other arm around his shoulders, that wild, nameless thing that only he brought out of her flickering ferociously to life. 

Because maybe—just maybe—what he’d needed wasn’t the violent, cleansing fire of his phoenix, but the warm, gentle peace that came with actually living.

“Hey…what do you think about setting the path for those who come after us?” Amicia said, watching his face closely. “Writing down what we’ve learned—about our predecessors. About the way to deal with this.”

“I’d like that,” Hugo said solemnly, his hand curling around her fingers. “We’ll do it together?”

“Yes.” She smiled fiercely, watching his eyes light up with his own smile. “Together.”

END