It was a laughable thing for a thief to say, and even more so from a conman. Keres knew more than most exactly what Percy Brightstar was, and how little anyone should ever take comfort in such a phrase. And yet, he was perhaps the person in the world she trusted most in the world- so much that when she was pushed by the jostling crowd over the short ledge that constituted the sea wall near Daggerford, it was Percy's name that she shrieked. The water had been choppy and icy cold down below as she'd plunged into it, her mouth and nose filling with salt as the water choked and soaked rapidly into her dense clothing, pulling her downwards into the depths. She'd dreamed that this was what hell was like- all rushing water and deadly quiet, the cold soaking into your bones, a voice so deep in the bottomless darkness that it echoed in your skull.
There you are. I've waited for you to come back to me at last.
She screamed again and tried to surface, feeling for all her efforts as if she made infinitesimal progress, pulling in a small gasp of air before sinking like stone.
She felt, rather than heard, something hit the water nearby. Hands locked onto hers and familiar arms dragged to the surface coughing. It couldn't have been more than a minute, just long enough for Percy to push through to the wall himself before diving in but it had felt like lifetimes. Keres hadn't known she'd been sobbing until someone had them hauled up in a boat shivering, clinging to each other like lifelines.
Now they were back at home, and she was still trembling even with a blanket wrapped around her wet frame. It wouldn't have been terrible, but her hands shook and made it impossible to get the wet clothing off so she could sink into a warm bath. Keres was fiddling with the buttons on her sleeves, almost ready to tear them off when the same hands that had lifted her from the depths, the same ones that had held her tight on the way home, and shook with their own cold and shock covered hers, and that voice- honey-sweet dripping over gold- interrupted her thoughts.
A smarter woman, perhaps one less in love, would have told him to leave her be. She'd manage. But it was hard to think when he was so kind and all she wanted to do was pretend he was hers. So she nodded and pulled ruined hair out of the way, letting him help her out of layers until she could manage on her own. His fingertips were gentle, almost tender, and for a moment she could have sworn she felt his eyes following the curve of her neck, the hesitation to pull away as he brushed a loose strand of hair back behind one ear. It was a cruel trick of the mind. He held no such regard for her, and if he lingered it was because he too needed to be put into a hot bath and clean clothing as much as she.
It was this she reminded herself as she thanked him and withdrew flushing into her rooms.
There wasn't much Percy Brightstar admitted to fearing. Not that he never got scared, mind. A good bandit captain knew to keep these things close to the chest. The only people who needed to know what you feared were people who wanted to exploit those fears. He wasn't so hard to read, though. He had a daughter. Most people would think threatening Daphne would be the quickest way to make Percy's blood boil.
Maybe it was. Didn't mean he didn't have other fears.
He feared the future the way any sensible person might. He feared the inevitable close of Daphne's formal education because human society would expect her to make a debut, and, just as bad, Keres would leave his home for the last time. To say he was a bit in love with her was like saying the Weave was a bit magical or the universe was a bit vast. Not that he'd do anything untoward. She was his daughter's governess. His best friend, too. Couldn't lose her.
For a moment, though, he did. He lost her in the crowd. Throngs of people came to the seaside for a holiday and they separated them because Percy hadn't the courage to hold her hand. He spotted her though quickly enough. Against the gray sky, she was a dark silhouette. He admired her windswept beauty for a moment and then he saw the carelessness of the jostling crowd and pushed his way towards her. He wasn't quick enough to catch her before she fell off the edge of the sea wall, but he was quick enough to doff his coat and leap after her. What a sight it must have been - behind him there were shouts and gasps that got swallowed by the wind. Below him, a splash. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for frigid waters.
The dark water reeled Keres in, her gown soaking up water and pulling her down. Someone once told Percy never to save a drowning person: you only ever got pulled down with 'em. He never heeded moralizing. He wrapped his arms around Keres, the closest he'd ever held her - likely ever would - and pushed towards the surface. The gods must have smiled upon him because they breached the surface with gasps and help had already gathered - a small fishing boat took them in while onlookers gawked at the show.
He feared losing Keres more'n almost anything. He'd almost done just that. Now, she clung to him and they both shivered. He murmured against her hairline, not sure what words he said to bring her comfort, not sure if they were words at all. He rubbed his numb hands against her shoulders. He feared losing Keres, but he hadn't, not today.
Home was a blessing. The warmth. The familiarity. The safety. Daphne rushed downstairs to pepper him with questions he did not answer as he rushed Keres upstairs, ordering a hot bath be drawn for her. She trembled under his touch and his own hands shook - hands, legs, core. Was it the drenched and half-frozen clothing? Fear? Adrenaline? Something else? No telling. All he knew was that Keres was shaking even more and that if she didn't get warm she would die and if he didn't see to it himself that she got warm, he'd die a different type of death.
He had to be strong for her. For them both. He braced himself.
He'd had a wife once before. He could manage the layers her hands weren't steady enough for. Gently, Percy peeled wet clothing from Keres' body once she gave him that little nod. His breath felt hot - and so did his core, despite the chill - as he leaned in. He pried wet strands of hair from the delicate curve of Keres' neck and his hands began to shake again, for new reasons now. Maybe it was better she only trusted him so far before retreating to her rooms. Otherwise, he would have kissed her naked and cold flesh with the stupid belief that his hands could warm her as well as any bath. He stood alone in his room with her sopping wet gown and nearly ruined corset laid upon his bed. He picked them up, heavy as they were with seawater, and hugged them to himself. They smelled of ocean salt and ozone and it was the first moment Percy realized that Keres smelled exactly as the wild waves did before a storm. He draped the wet garments near the fireplace. A servant told him there was a bath drawn for him as well and he dumbly followed. Sinking beneath the warmth, Percy wished he had been just a little braver. He was brave enough to dive into the ocean after her, but not to pursue her...
Once dressed and dried, he dared to knock on her door.
"Keres? I came to check on you. May I come in?"
