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There was a point in time that Thistle was vulnerable. When he was small and bright eyed and excitable. A time when he loved to play with his brother and entertain the king and queen. There was a time when things were different. There was a time when Thistle was a little child and problems did not appear right into his hands like chess pieces for him to place.
But it had been long since someone saw it that way. As everyone around him grew and he remained small, perhaps they got it in their head he was not a little boy at all. Elves were simply like that, right? He was so powerful and capable. Might as well hand responsibility upon responsibility into his tiny hands. He can do anything.
Everyone knew how that ended. He had became trapped in hell of his own making, and everyone else had been too. But nobody cared to think of him as what he was. No, no of course not. Thistle was a monster. The Mad Mage. Bringer of these horrors. Surely it was not the fault of the adults who had failed him. It was his own fault, he'd caused it.
And now he held so much power. The entire dungeon was right under his fingertips. Granted, he was under the claw of the Winged Lion, but it's not like that made a difference. He held it all right in his own hands, he'd taken the responsibility given to him and twisted it into power. Sheer power that he was practically unable to let go of.
But...ever since Falin...
Ever since that girl...well, that chimera. Sometimes...it seemed the power slipped right through his fingers. She was simply a nuisance in every way, constantly...constantly BABYING him. Who did she think she was?
Thistle was stubborn, that much was well-known. And he'd been nothing but stubborn towards Falin and her constant pushing him along. Nobody was allowed to tell him what to do. Had she no idea who he was, that HE was in charge of everything down here? Yet she didn't seem to care about that at all, constantly putting him in his place and treating him like such a child. He wasn't a child...he wasn't a child...not when everyone had never treated him as such. Children weren't given such levels of responsibility, so many dire situations would not rest on the shoulders of a child. So that was NOT what Thistle was. Absolutely not.
Even as the chimera ushered him along currently, a silent insistence that Thistle took a rest (despite absolutely not needing it,) he was still no CHILD. Thistle could only imagine it was some sort of motherly instinct she'd treat anything smaller than her with. Not that he needed the mothering, and not that he had any reason NOT to ignore it.
But...he listened.
Thistle sat on the floor of this secluded corner at the bottom of the dungeon, cheeks puffed out and eyebrows furrowed with aggravation. Beside him lay Falin, who was currently running her hands through his hair as if she was trying to detangle it. He absolutely should not be allowing her to touch his HAIR of all things, absolutely not, it needed to stay clean and neat for his magic to work properly and as intended. There was no need for her grubby monster hands to be TOUCHING it. Yet he allowed it, begrudgingly.
Her feathers were, admittedly, very warm and soft. As was Falin in general. Her hands did feel good petting his head. Thistle tended to have a pounding headache at all times, but this did...soothe it some. The elf allowed himself a moment of peace, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the feeling.
"You are a nuisance..." He mumbled under his breath. There was truly only the slightest edge to it. It was hard to sound too terribly displeased, even if displeased was Thistle's natural state.
But practically the moment the words left his mouth, Thistle could suddenly feel himself be lifted off the ground. And yes, he could have put a stop to that in an instant. He could do anything he wanted, after all. But he didn't. Once again, he allowed himself to be coddled by the beast. He gasped, but quickly relaxed as he felt himself lifted up properly and held close to her warm feathers. He felt like a small child being cradled. Pathetic, really.
"Do you think I'm an infant or something of the sort?" He spat cruelly, but Falin didn't seem to mind. Her eyes shined brightly, full of absolute wonder, as she smiled at him, small fangs poking out. Falin held him close with one strong arm as the other rubbed his head again.
Thistle found it harder and harder as time went on. It was hard not to enjoy this as much as he did. The attention was soothing and comforting, like a balm to a burn somewhere deep inside him he could feel everyday but chose to ignore. Something had hurt him long ago, and with time practically frozen for him, it didn't feel all that long ago at all.
For a moment, that pain went away, when he was being cradled like a baby by a chimera of all things. She seemed so fascinated by him, like he was so little and in need of defending. No, he wasn't in need of any defending, is certainly what Thistle told himself. But if it could, for even a moment, cool that painful festering burn inside...could it really be too terrible?
He was only doing Falin a favor. Humans looked after children, many monsters did too...fine. He could be a child. Just for a little while.
Thistle sighed softly and closed his eyes as he felt Falin nuzzle into his hair. Admittedly, he hadn't even grown tired of this yet. And admittedly, maybe it wasn't a bad thing. Whatever. It made her happy. Not that he cared at all what the chimera wanted.
It wouldn't hurt. Just for a little while.