everything lost gets found
a captlinh fic
A/N:
as this is a canon-rewrite/what-if fic there are snippets and some sections pulled from the book. these skillful and precious words do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for my own malevolent purposes.
I. Orbit
The Rampion Crew, all four of them, are gathered around a makeshift table in the cargo bay. Whoever designed the ship obviously didn't intend for meetings to be hosted in the open space. Nor had the ship been furnished when Thorne stole it. There is room for them all in the cockpit but the only chairs consist of the two mounted against the controls.
It was Thorne's idea to drag crates into a corner of the crowded cargo bay as seats and to stack several together as a table.
He's also the one who insisted on group meetings.
Wolf paces around in wide circles as Scarlet and Cinder sit side by side on their crates. Thorne is "gearing up" for his mission which consists of holstering and unholstering the gun at his waist. With every pull free he swings it up and strikes an action pose. He twists his body this way and that. He grunts, jumps, and swings his arm in wide arcs. He makes zapping and gun noises through puckered lips.
In his head, he probably looks dashing.
Scarlet holds back tears of mirth but only barely.
Thorne jumps, swiping the gun up, tucking his knees but stumbles as his feet hit the floor.
"Watch where you point that thing! You'll put one of our eyes out if you don't manage to put yours out first." Scarlet snarls.
The rag-tag Rampion Crew has one mission: overthrow Levana.
That one goal has many many moving parts. The current plan is to crash the royal wedding, hold the groom Emperor Kai hostage, and announce Cinder's own lineage as the lost Princess Selene to the public. So far they've recruited a lunar shell trapped on a remote satellite above earth.
And now, they have to rescue her.
Not exactly inspiring stuff.
Cinder leans against the cool wall, nursing the fresh bruises from her recent match with Wolf. She rests her arms on her head, catching her breath. Wolf doesn't hold back. Sparring with him is exhilarating for that very reason.
It still takes its toll.
The cool metal of the hold walls is pleasant against her sweaty skin.
Scarlet has been lecturing them on how to behave when the lunar girl, Cress, arrives. This is her third go at etiquette and the reasons for every item on her list. It's mostly directed at Thorne but he's not listening.
"You're asking the cyborg fugitive and the wild animal to be the welcoming committee? That's adorable." He bends at the knee, stretching absently.
Scarlet shoots him an irritated glare, planting her hands on her hips. "I'm saying we should be aware of what she's been through and try to be sensitive to that. This may not be an easy transition for her."
Thorne mouths a very courteous, "Blah blah blah." Behind his back, he flaps his free hand in imitation of lips.
Scarlet flushes red. She looks like she's about to get up and beat him. Cinder presses a weary hand to the older girl's arm. Fighting Thorne isn't worth the exertion it will take.
They briefly communicate non-verbally. Cinder shakes her head but motions shooting herself in the face with a finger gun.
This mollifies Scarlet enough to save Thorne from a concussion. She crosses her arms. A slight smile quirks at the edges of her mouth. Her fingers tap against her elbow and it's taking all of her self-control to stay seated.
When the worst of her irritation passes, she resumes her lecture on the lunar girl's possible emotional state. No one really pays her attention. Cinder is so tired. She rests her head on her shoulder, half dozing. Thorne slings his gun under his arm, miming shooting.
Iko's disembodied voice cuts into Scarlet's speech. She's raving about clothing and hairstyles. It sounds like their ship just wants a doll to dress up rather than to rescue a poor teen. At least she's enthusiastic. Even if her delight is centered around the possibility of a pretty new friend.
Wolf continues to pace.
Around and around he goes in circles. He doesn't enjoy being contained, even on a ship this spacious. It's running his nerves ragged and it's showing. Cinder almost suggests that Scarlet go and comfort Wolf.
Scarlet is too focused on Thorne.
For some reason, this irks Cinder. She doesn't know why.
Cinder pops her neck, trying to distract herself from the buzz of negative emotion. Doesn't make sense and yet it's there. Just under her skin she feels the ticking irritation. Not like this is new. Scarlet and Thorne have been bickering since they picked up her and Wolf a week ago.
If she's being honest, Cinder isn't thrilled about Thorne leading Mission Damsel in Distress as he's dubbed it.
That same negative buzz prickles along her spine. It feels too similar to—something she felt around Kai. The ball comes to mind and all those seething faces watching her. The envy of a room full of female admirers isn't something you forget easily. That much hatred tends to have an impact on you.
This wedding is kinda like that ball too. Maybe this time she won't have to dance. Overthrowing a queen seems much easier in comparison.
Speaking of the mission…
Scarlet tilts her head. "Are you sure you don't want me to go? It's going to require some precise maneuvering to attach the pod to the docking clamp and from what Cinder told me about your flying skills…"
"What do you mean? What did Cinder say about my flying skills?"
"Naturally, she told me that you're a fantastic pilot," says Scarlet, threading her arms through the sleeves of her red hoodie. "Absolutely topnotch."
Thorne sniffs with scorn. "Well did Cinder also tell you about the first time we flew the Rampion? No guidance system. None! And I did amazing. We didn't die."
"We almost did!" Cinder shoots back.
"Ahha! But, case in point, we didn't."
"I'm just saying." Scarlet shrugs as though this confirms her warnings.
A chilly sensation of foreboding crawls up Cinder's spine but she can't explain it. The shiver is involuntary and sudden. It's the kind of unrest you can only attribute to paranoia.
She rubs at her bare arms, frowning. Goosebumps pebble her forearms. She inhales deeply and stretches, hoping to dispel the discomfort.
"I can handle it," Thorne says, giving his most winning wink. "But you sure are sweet to be so concerned about me."
Wolf bristles at this show of affection. Thorne raises helpless hands and starts jabbering on about his irresistible qualities. He hasn't been paying enough attention to Wolf if he thinks this will pacify the larger man.
But, Thorne is Thorne and he doesn't always have the best interpersonal awareness.
This gives Wolf just the opportunity he's been waiting for to let off some aggression. The two men argue and Thorne looks to be losing. Wolf is less of a fan than Scarlet and it shows.
Thorne throws his hands in the air exasperated. "No! I didn't mean it like that! She is a pretty woman but—"
That's a worse answer. Wolf growls. The hair on the back of his neck actually begins to rise like hackles.
Thorne backs away, making his exit towards the hanger.
Cinder pauses, the apprehension rising in her belly. She pauses because she wants to say a proper goodbye. She pauses because something isn't right.
That's ridiculous. The last thing she wants from Thorne is more mushy declarations. He tends to go on forever about how much he knows they all love and adore him. But she can't shake this feeling of finality.
It catches in her throat.
Goodbye? He'll be right back. Maybe an hour. That's all it will take to fetch the girl and return.
And yet. And still. That chill feeling of finality terrifies her.
So, Cinder rises to catch him before he can swagger off into the sunset to save his newest damsel in distress.
He notices her and his face breaks out into a cheeky grin. "Do I get a goodbye kiss?" He flicks her chin.
The scowl that replaces her worry is genuine. All her unease disappears in a flash of annoyance. She flicks him across the forehead and he winces.
"Hey!"
"Get back here in one piece. And don't stall. She might be female but she's also a minor."
He laughs and waves her warnings away.
As the bay doors slide closed and click shut, she feels sudden regret. It doesn't make sense.
They move into the control room to monitor his progress.
They watch through the viewport as Thorne successfully attaches to the satellite. It takes him two tries and Scarlet keeps up a running commentary. Minutes pass. A half hour. The unease Cinder feels only grows with each second ticking by. She checks the blinking dashboard. The schematics that glow up at her contain information she already knows about the pod.
Cinder props herself against the doorframe. "I hope he's quick about it. We have no way of knowing that this girl isn't being monitored."
"You don't trust her?" Asks Wolf.
"I don't trust who she works for."
"Wait. Is that another ship?" Scarlet jerks forward, her fingers scrabbling over the dash pulling up a radar search on the screen beside her. "Our scanners aren't seeing it."
Wolf and Cinder crowd in behind her, peering down at the smaller podship as it nears the satellite. Cinder's heartbeat speeds up. Her pulse accelerates.
"It has to be Lunar." Scarlet breathes. "If they're blocking the signals—"
Wolf curses. "It's a royal ship. Probably a thaumaturge."
"She betrayed us. I don't believe it!" Cinder stares at the screen. Nausea is slowly crawling up her throat, threatening to choke her.
Thorne isn't safe.
"Do we run?" Asks Scarlet.
"And abandon Thorne?"
Cinder rakes fingers through her hair. The tips of her titanium fingers scratch and draw painful stripes across her scalp. Her thoughts race through her head, stumbling through every worst-case scenario. "Comm them! Establish the D-COMM link. We need to know what's going on—" I need to know if he's safe.
They both look at Cinder and she realizes with a jolt that they expect her to take charge. But it isn't a simple decision. Thorne is down there. He walked right into a trap!
"I can't leave him! I can't do that! You don't understand." Her voice is steady but it's taking all of her willpower to stop from trembling.
He will be okay. He has to be okay. There is no other option but for him to return safely and in one piece.
Scarlet's eyes soften with pity. She knows too well the pain of leaving someone behind. For her that loss is fresh.
Cinder's hands began to shake from gripping the chair. Her nails dig into the worn leather, leaving behind indents. Every second of indecision is wasted time. Time they could be using to rescue Thorne.
There isn't pity in Wolf's expression. He knows all too well of the sacrifices that must be made for survival. He's been forced to make them himself.
"Cinder. I'm sorry." Scarlet places a hand on her arm. "We have to—"
It only makes her squeeze the chair tighter. "Run. We have to run." A weight sinks to the pit of her gut.
This is the beginning of the end.
II. Lost
Before they can make their escape, one of the podships is disconnecting from the satellite. Thorne's podship. He's returning. Through the cockpit window out in the speckled black of space, they watch as the ship makes a careful, even skilled, flight back to the Rampion.
Cinder takes a leaf out of Wolf's book. She's pacing around, running her fingers through her tousled hair. It's taking a lot of self-control not to scream. It takes even more control not to rip her hair out in chunks.
Scarlet pulls the comm screen up. "Thorne—report. What happened down there?"
The screen returns only static. Cinder chews on the inside of her cheek. After a moment, the static is replaced with a simple text comm:
CAMERA DISABLED. WE'RE INJURED. OPEN DOCK.
Cinder rereads the message until the words blur in her vision. She wants to believe beyond rationality that it's Thorne. He just needs them to open the hangar doors! If she just lets him through—
"It's a trap," Wolf warns.
"It might not be." She retorts.
"It is."
"We don't know that for sure! He's resourceful."
"Cinder—"
"He could have survived." She slams her open palms down on the dashboard.
If it is Thorne—if Thorne is inside that ship, injured or dying she needs to get to him. She has to.
She holds Wolf's gaze. He doesn't look pleased. In fact, if he wasn't so mild-mannered he'd probably be berating her for being an idiot.
"You don't understand." She repeats. "If he's alive and we leave him to die, we're no better than Levana."
Wolf shakes his head.
Cinder doesn't give him a chance to stop her.
Clearing her thoughts, she punches in the dock's access code and wrenches down the manual lever. The unlock mechanism clicks into place and Cinder holds up her left hand like a gun. Ready to send the welded nails into an assailant's flesh.
She inches toward the ship sitting in the docking hangar. It seems no worse for wear. Obviously. Whatever destruction has taken place will be inside.
"Thorne?" she calls out, craning her head.
She spots a lump of fabric in the pilot seat: a body hunched over. Shaking, she shoves open the door before ducking a few steps back and aiming her weapon at the body.
"Thorne!"
His body slumps forward onto the ground. She rushes to him, flipping him onto his back. Her eyes take in the mess. He's bloody and injured and unconscious. Cinder's hands cover her mouth in horror. What did they do to him?
Her hands scrabble at the blood-soaked fabric of his ruined shirt. Sticky red coats skin and titanium alike. She's checking the severity of his wounds.
An orange light flickers in the corner of her vision.
She yanks her hands away. There is no blood. Not anymore. It's gone and so is Thorne. His body morphs before her eyes. In his place is the blank face of the blonde lunar guard.
Cinder yells and hell breaks loose.
III. Missing
Too much has changed in too little time. Thorne has been dead four days. Jacin Clay, the former bodyguard of Thaumaturge Sybil Mira, has been tagging along with them four days. Scarlet has been missing four days.
And, Cinder is dead. She might as well be. The grief she can't begin to process is numbing every emotion. The past four long days have been filled with arguments and tearless headaches and gifts she doesn't want to accept.
Everything is wrong now. They don't have Cress. They're also missing half their crew. Crew. What a ridiculous sentiment. Only she and Wolf are survivors of the Rampion. Two grief-stricken lunars hardly count as a "crew".
Even now as she and Jacin walk through the dusty streets of Farafah, Cinder feels the loss all around her. The most microscopic things remind her of Thorne. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once and she hates that. What she hates most of all is how permanent the change is.
Before if she'd wanted a break from his rambling, she could walk into a different room. Now, no matter where she travels in the entire universe, she'll never find him again. It's sobering.
She hates that too.
She hates hurting.
She hates missing him.
Today she and Jacin run errands for Dr. Erland. He's not as spry as he used to be and even small excursions wear him out. It's been four days since the doctor stitched Wolf up too.
Jacin trails behind, shielding his eyes from the sun. He has a light shawl pulled over his head, protecting his fair skin from the blazing sun. He looks bored.
She wishes she could be simply uninvested. That would be better than this misery. Instead, she's shell-shocked.
They stop outside of a small rundown building. She checks the address in her retina against the one over the door. Jacin shrugs at her.
Cinder pulls back the drapes and steps into the shop, holding the curtain for Jacin as she surveys the shelves around her. Jars are filled with assorted herbs and liquids, many of them labeled in a language she doesn't know. Although if she stares for too long her netlink begins searching for a translation.
The ingredients are scattered among boxes of drugs and bottles of pills that she recognizes from pharmacies in the Commonwealth. Along with that are shelves cluttered with other medical supplies. This place is stocked to the brim. Flecks of dust catch on a few streams of light that filter in from dirty windows. In the corner, a fan spins lazily doing little to dispel the dry heat. It's as suffocating inside as it is out in the street.
Jacin meanders toward the back of the shop, still walking with a slight limp.
They exchange terse words. Some inane and some loaded with meaning. Jacin talks about his time as a guard. Through tight lips, he answers her questions. His words barely conceal animosity. This isn't a topic he'd have chosen. Still, he does respond even if his answers are circular and evasive.
Cinder grows impatient. "Clearly Levana didn't want you for your chattiness. So what were the traits you possessed that made her think you'd be a good guard?"
That look of smug amusement returns, like he's letting her in on a private joke. "My pretty face," he says. "Can't you tell?"
She snorts. "You're starting to sound like Th—Thorne."
She stumbles over his name and her throat is suddenly dry. Thorne, who will never make jokes about his own charisma again.
Once the shop owner fills their order and adds a few complimentary items, they retreat back out to the sandy street. The sun beats down, baking their unprotected skin. Sweat drips down her nose. Before they can start their trek back to Dr. Erland's hotel, Jacin pauses.
He tells her to wait, seeming to have forgotten something. He slips back inside the shop without a word. She watches him leave. He's holding the box of supplies and Cinder has the faint suspicion he's going to put unnecessary things back.
And here she thought he was heartless.
Cinder swallows the lump in her throat. Now that she's by herself, she has privacy. Cinder covers her eyes with a shading hand. It blocks the sun but mostly it's an excuse to protect her emotions from any prying eyes.
That small joke from Jacin has rubbed her raw. Maybe he is attractive and maybe he was picked for his looks. The comment was so off-handed. He meant no harm and doesn't even know that his words bring Thorne to mind, not like he could. To her knowledge, Jacin and Thorne have never even exchanged words. He'd simply been annoyed at her digging into his personal life.
But it stings.
The reminder of Thorne bruises something beneath her ribs. She wonders briefly if grief is capable of physical harm. This wound is too fresh; even for something as small as Jacin's comment.
Thorne's vanity could be annoying but it was as harmless as his flirting. There will be no more of any of it. No more jokes either.
Those only exist in her memory now.
Cinder leans against the wall, eyes closing against the bright sunny afternoon. The blackness under her eyelids soothes her physical discomfort but the inside turmoil is no better.
She conjures up an image of Thorne. It won't help, she knows this for a fact. Scratching an itch only irritates the skin but it brings relief in the moment. Under her eyelids, his smirk and messy hair bloom to life. He's saying something irrelevant. Doesn't matter because his words aren't her focus.
Thorne rambles so much of the time that she's never bothered to catalog the specifics. Or, he did. She has retained the rhythm of his voice. The sound, the timbre, and the hum of it.
As she brings forward his face in her mind's eye it startles her just how many details she did preserve. It was not intentional. Somehow her brain has recorded these things.
The way his lips twitch with each word. The corners of his mouth quirking up with every joke. The subtle flutter of his dark eyelashes when he winks.
Each little particle she's collected of HIM is now precious.
Maybe she should have been keeping track of his words too.
She'll never hear his voice again. All she has left are these shadows of memory. Cinder intends to cherish every scrap her subconscious has collected.
In the pit of her stomach is a familiar ache. It's the same ache she feels for Peony. Thorne now shares that gaping chasm in her gut. His absence is like a black hole.
She hadn't appreciated him and all of his irritating ticks. She wishes that—but no. It's too late for wishing. It won't bring him back.
With her eyes closed, Cinder says a quick goodbye. She keeps it brief because her throat is already tightening with the tears that will never fall. She swallows. Again. Her throat is too dry. She makes a quick vow before her eyes open. Wherever Scarlet is and whatever cruel things have been done to her, Cinder will find her.
There's still a chance Scarlet is alive. Cinder can save someone and she will. Enough life has been lost.
Jacin taps her shoulder and she startles. He's motioning for them to leave in that annoyingly silent way of his.
Oh how she hates this lunar's silence. It throws into stark relief the vacuum that Thorne's grating chatter used to fill.
Cinder nods and squares her shoulders. She inhales softly, slowly, willing the thoughts and the ache away to the deep recesses of her mind. It won't help to linger on the pain. She'll save his face for the dark of night when Peony's ghost visits.
IV. Found
Days later she's running up the hotel steps. Sweat slicks stray hairs to her cheek and forehead. The pale bandanna in her hair does little to cool her down. She takes the stairs two at a time, halting on the landing in front of Dr. Erland's door.
It's wide open. Jacin glances at her, observing her heaving body. She pauses to catch her breath.
When her words finally escape through her gasps for air, her voice is shaky. "Jacin—there's a girl down there—she said—she—"
He shrugs and gestures toward the room. "See for yourself."
Using the wall for balance, Cinder stumbles to join him in the doorway. Her uncertainty is growing into full-fledged anxiety. It can't be. If this is some kind of cruel joke…
Dr. Erland is there, and he has a sizable bruise on his jaw. Except for that, the doctor looks like his usual disgruntled self. He acknowledges her presence with a terse nod.
And Wolf is awake.
He looks worse. His face is haggard and under all of his bandages, the skin visible is a patchwork of bruises. None of that is as terrible as the vacant despair in his eyes.
And…stars above.
He's filthy. His clothes are ripped and covered in dirt and his hair is as shaggy as it had been the day she'd met him in his prison cell. His face is bruised too, stubble claiming his jawline. But he's grinning, so carefree, with his arm around the waist of a petite blonde girl, and—
And—
The room and people are a blur. All she registers through her thundering pulse are faint impressions. There is a bedside table and chair. There's an ornate bed frame made of dark wood. Another door leads into either a bathroom or a closet.
None of that matters. Nothing matters. Nothing.
"Thorne!" His name rips from her throat in a ragged cry.
Without hesitation, she runs to him. Grabbing handfuls of his collar, Cinder crashes her mouth into his. Kissing him fiercely.
Crumpling the worn leather in her titanium hand and scrunching it in her flesh one.
The only thing she cares about is Thorne.
Leaning him back over the bed frame. Bending him backward, sealing their lips together with feverish kisses. Desperate to feel his skin under her hands. Needing his warm pulse beating just under her knuckles where they tremble against his throat, against his jaw and jugular.
He's got this stupid red bandana tied around his head and she tugs it free, pulling the cloth away to reveal his brilliant blue eyes.
He can't protest because he's too busy kissing her back.
When she can't breathe and can't wait another second longer for oxygen, she draws away. She gasps his name, lightheaded.
"Thorne!"
"C—Cinder?"
They are equally breathless but he's stunned.
His usually prattling mouth is struck speechless by hers. They stare at each other, unable to move, let alone say anything else. His eyes are unfocused. Cinder represses a smirk. She must be pretty good at kissing. That or he's unaccustomed to being jumped.
And then just as suddenly as she had kissed him, she throws her arms around his neck and squeezes for all she's worth.
Her eyes sting like hell. No tears fall but it sure feels like their absence is boring her eye sockets out. Green text warns her about something but she honestly doesn't care.
"Hey! Glad to see you too gorgeous." He laughs lightly, just as pleased as he is breathless. His face splits wide into a punch-drunk grin. "Well. See—hear. Same thing."
"You're alive." She swallows thickly.
"Seeing is believing." He shares a conspiratorial smile but she doesn't catch his drift.
"You're alive."
He takes her face in both hands and kisses her full on the mouth with gusto. "You're damn right I am! I'm more alive than I think I've ever been in my whole 20 years of living."
"I thought you were dead." Her tone is grave.
"Well me too, for a little bit there."
"But you're alive." She whispers it with reverence, scowling deeply.
Cinder traces the shape of his mouth with a titanium fingertip and he shivers, leaning into the alien sensation of her touch.
He is the one who initiates touch.
He is the one who wants her.
He is the one who accepts her flaws.
But now it's Cinder's turn.
"What's wrong with your eyes?" She grabs him by the jaw to examine his glazed out-of-focus look.
"Blind. It's a long story." He shrugs as if that's explanation enough.
"Does it look like I have somewhere else to be?"
Someone coughs uncomfortably.
It's then they remember the frozen world behind them.
Both Cinder and Thorne turn to look. She pinches him because he's being theatrical like usual. Apparently, he's blind.
Jacin is speechless. He looks a little green.
The girl that had been holding on to Thorne is speechless, though she is all pinkness. She clutches her shirt in trembling fingers, looking lost.
Wolf examines them with perplexion. He has to sit down and his hand goes gingerly to his chest. It probably has more to do with his injuries than with shock.
Dr. Erland has turned a dusty shade of confused.
There's so much to catch Thorne up on before she can drag him back into the chaos of her life. There's so much that everyone present needs to hear. She doesn't have time to coordinate her thoughts because he's nipping her cheek.
It's so casual an action but it brings blood rushing to her head.
Cooling protocols begin and blah blah blah. The green text can't distract her from his touch.
He's peppering open-mouthed kisses to her jaw. The languid attention of his mouth sends thrills up her spine and electric shocks down to her toes. His lips land squarely on her own and he's kissing her like a man starved.
How many women has he kissed like this? A better question is how many women has he kissed? Who else has felt his lips like this?
She finds that suddenly she doesn't care.
It's intoxicating.
He is intoxicating.
Nor does she care that people are watching—they can look away at any moment.
His wide hands tug her closer by the waist. He holds her to him in his strong grip, kissing her and kissing her. His lips slip and press along her own.
She runs her fingers through his unkempt but feather-soft hair. Even unwashed and dragged through hell and back he smells of his warm cologne. It's clean with crisp green apples and the earthy scent of sandalwood. Her eyes close involuntarily and he's all around her in his cologne. His energy is like ocean waves lapping just at the edges of her psyche.
Dr. Erland is coughing politely, but very firmly. "Would the two of you care to join us once more?"
She pulls herself away, pushing Thorne by the face as he leans right back in for more.
A little piece of reality returns.
Cinder feels the embarrassment of their display starting to settle in. With each second her embarrassment grows. What is wrong with her? There isn't a single pleased expression in the room. If she could blush, she would be scarlet.
Scarlet!
This is probably a terrible reminder for Wolf of what is missing.
She wants to apologize to him and beg his forgiveness for rubbing salt in his fresh wounds. She wants to make promises and declarations of rescue but she doesn't have the heart.
Thorne squeezes her against his side, almost as if he senses her discomfort. The feel of his familiar weight against her and the pulse of his signature bioelectricity is like breathing. It's like a lungful of air after holding her breath for a million years.
She hadn't realized just how empty she'd felt until the chasm was once again filled with his presence.
These past months she's grown around the shape of him in her life.
He's wiggled his way in so deep that she knows she'll never be able to purge herself.
"You sure move on quickly." Jacin quips in his usual deadpan.
He gets varying degrees of confused looks.
"Isn't she madly in love with the Emperor?" He points out.
Unlikely as it might be, Cinder has never seen Jacin look so stoney.
"Yep. Madly in love." Thorne tries to tap Cinder teasingly on the nose but jabs her in the ear instead.
She swats him away.
"I too was under the impression you harbored feelings for Emperor Kai." Erland fiddles with the cuffs of his button-down. He's not so much displeased but one of his bushy grey eyebrows is raising higher and higher.
Cinder feels her whole body warming. Is it indignation or embarrassment?
"Nah, she ditched his majesty for me. It's us who are madly in love!"
He leans in to kiss her again but this time she's fully recovered from the insanity. Giddy joy soars deep in the pit of her stomach but more kisses can be saved for later.
"Yes. That's us—when Thorne isn't running around the country making every earth and lunar girl alike swoon."
"Honestly, Cinder, to listen to you, people would think I'm a helpless flirt or something." He laughs at his joke and wipes nonexistent tears away.
No one else laughs.
Tipping back on his heels, Thorne gestures toward the blonde girl. "By the way, you remember Cress?"
The girl smiles uncomfortably. Only then does Cinder recognize her—now with flaking, sunburned cheeks and hair chopped short and uneven.
"Hello," says Cinder.
The girl is quick to duck away from her introduction, bright red and apologetic. Cinder thinks she catches glittering wetness in those pretty blue eyes.
Cinder clears her throat, nervous at what her next words must be. "And, Wolf, you're awake. This is…I'm… okay listen. Thorne—you were spotted in a nearby city. This whole area is about to be flooded with people searching for us." She faces the doctor. "We need to get out of here. Now."
Thorne interrupts, squishing his finger to her mouth. "Marry me?"
She thumps him hard on the head.
He fakes being wounded and clutches at his heart. "Ahh not a rejection from the woman who just mauled me!"
V. Confession
They're safe now. Mostly. Neither Dr. Erland nor Jacin made it back to the ship.
Cinder fiddles with the wires at Iko's knee, twisting and rearranging the multicolored threads.
Iko keeps up a lively chatter. She can't decide if she's thrilled that the plan went off without any hitches or if she's devastated by the damage to her body. Theories and snippets of news articles tumble from her lips. She's keeping track of the battle footage. According to Iko, it's blurry but enough details remain to show off the mutilation of her escort body.
Cinder works diligently. She tunes the buzz of noise out. She's still processing everything that has taken place.
There is grief attached to Erland's passing but she hasn't worked through its nature.
They weren't exactly buddy-buddy at any point in their relationship. She still mourns his death. Yet another name added to Levana's ever-growing list.
"You're the best mechanic an android could ever ask for." Iko squeals. She throws her arms around Cinder's throat and squeezes with all the strength in her robotic body. It's a surprisingly painful amount of strength.
"Say that when you don't have an enormous gaping hole in your throat." Cinder says, prying herself out of the constricting embrace.
Iko impatiently taps her fingers against her hips while Cinder warps the external paneling into something that resembles the shape of a clavicle.
From outside in the cargo bay there comes yelling. The commotion nears the podship dock. Behind her, the door hums open.
"Here she is, Your Majesty."
Cinder stiffens. She looks up as Kai shoves Thorne out of the way. He storms in rearing for a shouting match.
Cress and Thorne hover curiously by the door.
"You're awake." She stammers. After everything she did and said in his chambers, nausea is working its way up into her throat again. Then, realizing that was a stupid thing to say, Cinder attempts to stand straighter. "How do you feel?"
"Kidnapped. How should I feel?" Kai glares, crossing his arms.
"You're right! We did it! We successfully kidnapped a monarch!" Thorne marches fully into the room and strikes a heroic pose with his fist under his chin.
Kai draws himself to his full height beside Thorne. The difference in stature is so minimal the effect is virtually pointless.
"Once again, we're making history. That's my girlfriend for you!" Thorne whoops.
His arms swing around both their shoulders and he pulls Cinder and Kai into an awkward haphazard embrace.
"What?" She chokes.
"We're basically dating. Wait, are we not dating? Is that not a thing?"
She wriggles out from under his squeezing arms leaving Kai behind. It's a bizarre picture; Thorne with his arms wrapped all the way around Kai's neck. It looks like either they're about to make out or are on the verge of a death match.
Between them, who would win a wrestling match? The thought crosses her mind before she can help it. Nope. Not productive.
"Dating?"
"Yeah." Thorne says. He blinks at her, still strangling Kai.
Kai stands dumbstruck. He hasn't moved to untangle himself nor voiced complaint. He stares slack-jawed.
"What?" She, Kai, Cress, and Iko chorus. The four voices clash with different emotions. Only Iko's shrill scream is positive.
"Isn't that what all that kissing and 'Why of course I'll marry you, Captain Thorne. You're the air I breathe.' was about?"
Kai pales considerably. "Kissing?"
Iko covers her mouth and feigns swooning. "You kissed Captain Thorne? Cinder! Why don't you ever tell me these things?"
"Okay I did kiss you but I didn't say any of that other stuff." She flushes deeply, scowling at him. "You're the one who went and died on me! You expect me to act rationally after that? You expect me to not freak out when I see you again? I can't be held responsible." She glowers, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
Thorne leans his chin on Kai's shoulder, a dreamy look crossing his face. "That sounds like a marriage proposal to me. Right?" He looks to Kai for confirmation.
Kai shrugs noncommittally. Thorne's arms rise with Kai's shoulders.
"So like, are we dating?"
"Uh, I mean, maybe. I don't—Yeah? Sure. Well—Fine!" She stumbles over the words. Stuttering and glaring and wringing her hands together in the hem of her shirt. "But only if you want to date me too!"
Despite the last part coming out like a threat, Thorne sags with relief. He hugs Kai tighter. Pressing his face into the other guy's cheek. "Did you hear that?"
Kai swallows thickly. "Yeah. I heard that."
Iko shrieks with delight and Cress bursts into tears.
VI. Restored
A little later, they lay together nestled in the blankets of his bunk. He's on his back, one arm supporting his head and the other wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She's on her side tucked into him and clinging like he might disappear as his illusion did in that instant on the ship.
She twines their fingers together at her shoulder.
"Don't expect me to turn sappy on you."
"I don't expect anything to change." He presses a feather-soft kiss to the flyaway hairs over her temples. "Stars, you're beautiful Cinder."
She stiffens and warmth pools in the pit of her chest. It's a pleasant if not alien sensation.
Now that she's back in her right mind, it's difficult to swallow the spectacle they made in Dr. Erland's hotel room. Every time it comes to mind she shrivels up inside. It's mortifying. Will probably always be mortifying. She only has one explanation for the lapse in character.
The reason is equally as embarrassing as the act.
"Did you know it was me when I kissed you? Or would you kiss anyone back if they initiated it?" She tries to keep the bite from her voice but the question has been weighing on her mind ever since.
"Cinder…" He huffs next to her, and she can hear the eye roll even if she can't see it. "Not too many other women have that very specific titanium left hand. It was kinda an instant giveaway."
"You can't blame me for asking!"
"No, but I can take it personally."
She props herself up on an elbow. "And you don't think it's in character for you Captain Carswell Thorne to kiss a random woman just because you were already in the middle of it?"
He tugs on her messy ponytail, grinning. "Say it again."
"Some random—"
He stops her words with a quick kiss. "No, call me captain."
"Captain Carswell Thorne." She obeys begrudgingly.
"Aces, I love the way you say it."
This new dynamic of theirs is odd. It's not unwelcome but it will take getting used to. She's grateful for once in her life that she's physically incapable of blushing.
He rolls over on top of her. She protests, poking him in the ribs. Thorne isn't bothered. He tucks his jaw into the hollow where neck meets shoulder and nuzzles her throat.
"I've wanted to do this for so long." His breath whispers against the sensitive skin.
She shivers.
Cinder readjusts underneath him, positioning his arms more comfortably along her sides. When the slopes and edges of their bodies fit together she wraps her arms up around his shoulders holding him tightly. They lay in the dim light.
Thorne's breath is soft and it flutters the strands of hair along her chin. The thrumming of the ship all around them is a lullaby.
She begins to stroke her fingers through his hair. Curling it around into ringlets that don't hold their shape. Everything is quiet.
"Thorne?"
"Yes Cinder?"
"I'm terrified."
"Me too. Did you see Kai's face? Talk about a scary guy. He sure knows how to glare. Do you think he'll recover from the shock of you not swooning over him?"
He did no such thing. All things considered, Kai reacted remarkably well to being cuddled/strangled by a stranger. That and being forced to witness Thorne's subsequent victory dance.
Everyone present had reacted extraordinarily well to the dance. Well, Cinder considered Cress running from the room weeping as a reasonable reaction. Maybe that had less to do with his dance and more to do with Thorne.
Anyway, Kai had been gracious. He congratulated them briefly and excused himself, looking green. Why was that such a common consensus? Hmmm. She'd wonder about that later.
"No. Thorne." She tugs on his earlobe, lightly. "There's so much I don't have control over."
"Hmm."
"And so many lives will be lost no matter what I do. I can't save anyone- I can't save you. And, I'm turning into my worst nightmare. I keep manipulating the people around me. Innocent and guilty people alike. I can't control anything. I'm so frightened." Her voice breaks at last.
She buries her face in his hair.
He's silent. The rise and fall of his chest against her abdomen is the only sign he's still present. "You have to focus on what you can control Cinder. Otherwise, you'll go crazy."
"Is that what you do?" She whispers.
"Nah. I just don't think about anything. Can't stress if you don't worry."
"Head empty. No thoughts." She taps his skull gently.
"Yep. That's me." He chuckles lightly and the breath tickles along her jaw.
"I'm so thankful you're here. If I lose you too I think I really will go crazy for real."
His hands tighten at her sides. "I don't plan on it. Now that you've finally come to your senses and recognize just how handsome and dashing and wonderful I am and that it was inevitable that you'd fall for me and—that you want me—well let's just say I have no intentions of leaving."
"You have my permission to stay."
He snorts, wiggling his knuckles along her side. "Glad we got that bit worked out. You know I really was afraid that after you finally said we were dating you would kick me out of my own room."
She tightens her arms around his shoulders. "No. Now that you're mine you're never allowed out of my sight again."
He drags a nail up her ribs, sending a shiver down the length of her spine.
"Well I hope you're ready for a hell of a lot of knock-knock jokes. I've been practicing them with Cress. It's surprisingly difficult to make observational humor without eyesight. I'm getting preeeeety good if I do say so myself."
"Yeah?" She raises her eyebrows.
"Yep. Soon I'll be a master."
"As long as I don't have to participate."
"I think we can arrange that."
She laughs and the release of purely positive emotion is like breathing fresh air. Her lungs expand against his chest. He begins to nuzzle his jaw along her neck again. He's so touchy-feely! Not that this is surprising with the update of their relationship status.
"Hey, you promise right?"
"That you don't have to ask who's there?"
She groans. "Thorne….."
"Yeah, I promise to stick around. Good?"
"Good." She agrees.
What tomorrow holds is as out of her control as the spinning of the planets. Cinder will take each day one step at a time. They're going to find Scarlet and they're going to make Levana pay.
Her reign of terror will meet an end.
Whatever happens between now and then are simply the stepping stones.
They fall asleep wrapped up in each other.
A/N:
I'm so so happy with the last Lunar fic I wrote. writing this one directly afterwards made me nervous. I wanted to make sure it had a similar feel so that you can imagine these in the same AU. like, what if it's just the Lunar Chronicles but Cinwell is endgame. so a "one thing different" AU if you will.
this one is definitely different in that "paint me bruises" is a contained event. Thorne asks her to dance and they end up wrestling. this story is a chain of events that build. so…. the focus is less on the every action and reaction and more on the effect of how one change would alter the rest of canon. (if Cinder kissed Thorne when they reunite).
thank you for reading! I hope this is as in character as my last work.
find my art account with some Cinwell drawings on Tumblr at: boardthatsinkingship