hal’s house was never really quiet, even this late. the streets outside had mostly settled into the occasional distant hoofbeat or the low murmur of voices carrying somewhere far below the window, but the house itself still seemed to breathe around you. floorboards creaked overhead. something clattered downstairs, followed by a muffled curse that was almost definitely hal and the immediate sound of thimble snapping at someone to keep it down. judging by the louder laugh that followed, kattigan was still awake. some things, it seemed, were unavoidable.

the room the two of you had been given was small but warm, the kind of space made comfortable more by use than design. moonlight spilled through the narrow window in pale silver strips across the floorboards, catching on scattered signs of life tucked into every available surface. potted herbs lined the sill in uneven clay jars, some clearly more cared for than others, while bundles of dried lavender and unfamiliar mountain flora hung from nails along the wall, giving the air a faint herbal sharpness that cut through the lingering smell of tavern smoke. even the bedside table had been taken over by small bits of greenery, sprigs and clipped stems laid out like someone had been sorting or studying them and simply never finished.

a single lantern burned low beside the bed, its light soft and golden against all the plantlife, turning leaves and hanging bundles into shifting silhouettes along the walls. the bed itself sat beneath the window, already claimed in the casual way shared space tends to be when there isn’t much room for ceremony. occtis stood near the washbasin, carefully undoing what remained of the disguise he’d worn earlier. without the altered posture and the deliberate edge he’d held in his voice all evening, he looked more distinctly like himself again. there was still tension lingering in the set of his shoulders, some leftover thread of the night’s events not fully shaken loose, and a bruise had begun to darken along his jaw that he either hadn’t noticed or had simply decided wasn’t worth acknowledging.

after a moment, he set the last piece aside and exhaled quietly.

“you did good tonight,” he said simply. the words came easy, without the careful formality he usually wrapped around anything that sounded remotely like praise. his gaze dropped briefly to his hands, fingers absently turning one of the clasps over before he added, quieter this time, “made things easier, knowing you were there.” the admission seemed to catch up to him only after he’d already said it. he cleared his throat and leaned back onto his hands, looking up toward the ceiling as though it had suddenly become very interesting. “don’t let that go to your head,” he added, the dry humor slipping back into place. then, after a beat, he glanced toward the wall separating your room from the rest of the house and sighed.