He has always been a light sleeper, really. In his early youth, it had just been something he'd gotten used to (you had to get up early, when you were a farm boy). In the military, it had become a necessity ("up and at 'em soldier, you can sleep when you're dead!"), and then when he had first become a father, it had been more of an instinct than anything (his wife would almost always insist that he lay back down to get some sleep, whenever their baby daughter started crying. But she usually caved in, especially because she had been so tired after the birth herself.)
These days however, sleep feels like something that is trying to punish him. Something that is there to remind him, that he is only human, only a man.
He can still smell the acrid smoke, still see the fire as it attempted to consume the bricks of the mansion. The fire had been started by a torch lighting up a curtain, and had spread from there, but it had only caused bits of damage to the living rooms. But still, the smoke stuck to everything else like tar for several days on some things and forever on other objects…
He hates it. Hates how sleep feels like a weakness, how it leaves him feeling vulnerable.
And now that he is guarding the Shadow Prison, it is the last thing that he needs. To show weakness.
But sometimes, just sometimes, his body forces him to find a place in his quarters, where he can lay down and close his eyes for just a few minutes…
He finds her body, broken and still, and he clutches her tightly as he wails out his grief-
Even if those few moments have him writhing from the nightmares he is tormented by.
Her little boat is gone, she has to be safe, she has to be!
He blames the Fearlings. With so many gathered in one place, their influence is powerful, even while locked in the prison the way they are.
His most loyal men do their best to search, but there are only so many resources you can use, and so much time you can be allowed. The Tsar doesn't listen, refuses to understand, or at least he seems to in the General's grieving state.
It is a curse and a blessing. A curse, because it leaves him with unpleasant dreams. And a blessing, because it keeps him awake.
In some of his dreams, he is sailing through the stars, searching for his baby girl. He thinks he can see her little boat, just in sight and yet so far out of reach. He calls to her, tells her that Daddy is here, Daddy is coming princess, I'm coming to save you-
Whatever little rest he gets, he uses as much to its advantage as he can. He gets up, gets cleaned up (only pure habit and routine makes him able to keep up appearance, or he would look like a downright mess), and then forces down whatever little food he can stomach, before he goes to serve his guard duty.
Sometimes, he thinks, it is only this final duty that keeps him awake. That keeps him from doing anything stupid. He has already failed the ones he held the most dear to his heart. He cannot fail a second time.
"We'll find her, Koz." His most loyal lieutenant assures him, as they are about to set sail. They're risking a great deal by hiding their mission from the Tsar like this, but these men know better than anything how much the General has suffered.
Kozmotis jerks awake, his eyes wide and his chest heaving as he gasps and he looks around wildly until he realizes that he has fallen asleep on his own post. He snarls, even as the Fearlings laugh and shriek in their own prison. With a furious snort, the Golden General stumbles off towards his barracks.
By going out as a civilian ship the way they had, they had to be very careful with communication. But it has still been so long, and there has been no news…
He digs through his supplies, until he finds what he is looking for, in the form of all sorts of caffeinated drinks and a few specific potions. He remembers a fellow soldier coming up with potions that can keep you awake, which worked well if you were on night watch duty, that in that day could be a boring and tedious affair, depending on where you were posted. Just a mouthful should be enough to keep him up for the time he needs to stay awake.
He has enough supplies to make him at least 5 bottles the size of his own fist. He measures carefully, and drinks the mixture. It is sharp and bitter on his tongue, and it gives his body just the jolt it needs, the caffeinated drink buzzing through his veins, and fooling parts of his brain into believing that he has gotten all the rest he needs.
Sometimes in his dreams, he almost reaches her, is almost so close to the boat that he can reach out and touch it, and he calls to her, tells his baby girl that everything will be alright, he's here to save her. And she looks up at him with teary eyes and a hopeful smile, reaching out to take his outstretched hands…
And then it is back to work, back to standing at the gates and patiently patrolling, making certain that no one shadow escapes, that no one else will suffer anymore nightmares…
And then black chains and ropes seem to lash out, whipping around him and his own vessel, black hooks sinking into his flesh and making him roar in pain, as they yank him back painfully, his daughter's screams ringing in his ears as he is yanked back towards a massive black galleon, where Dream Pirates and Nightmare Men all hiss and cackle, their own leader(who seems so oddly familiar but can't be-impossible-never) standing tall and grim as he readies a massive harpoon… and Kozmotis realizes to his horror that it is not meant for him, but before he can call out, can beg, threaten, ANYTHING, the black spectre raies the harpoon and throws it with all the strength and force of a canon and there is a SCREAM-
(When the Fearlings trick him into opening the door, a very small part of him feels relieved, and wonders if he will be allowed now to sleep without dreaming.)