The pale breath of winter's first light sifted through the stocking where Fawn lay huddled in catatonic silence. She hadn't slept a wink, her limbs trembling with exhaustion, head buzzing with the dregs of spent adrenaline. For hours she had thrashed and squirmed, trying desperately to free herself from the ribbon, but managing only to become more hopelessly entwined. Now as the dawn broke, she abandoned all hope of removing the Christmas decorations before the master woke. It would be a miracle if she even got out of this alive.

A disgruntled groan rumbled through the room, sending a fresh jolt of panic through Fawn's tired limbs. She froze abruptly as the settee creaked, the monstrous sound of rustling fabric rushing about her like wind.

"Please don't wake up. Please don't wake up. Please don't wake up."

Eyes clenched shut, Fawn uttered the words like a fitful prayer, like a spell to bind him back to sleep. The sound of movement stilled, stretching into a terrible silence.

"What in god's name..."

Fawn's heart hurtled from her chest, her body launching into a fit of renewed struggling as the deep tremor of the master's voice coursed through her. 

He had seen the stocking. He was going to find her. There was no longer any question. 

She could feel her throat tightening with the burning sting of tears, her tiny lungs squeezing shut as he rose up, his colossal footfalls thundering forward unevenly. An impossibly large shadow dropped over her view, blanketing her quaking body for a moment before it moved. 

Fawn's stomach heaved as her prison soared effortlessly into the air, the fragile vessel lifted up and shaken carelessly for a clue to its contents. She choked out a sob as her entire world reeled, her senses catapulted into a blur of confusion as the gifts within jostled about and sent her tumbling deeper inside. She hadn't a moment to right herself before her stomach plunged sickeningly, the fabric around her swaying as the master sat casually back down onto the settee.

Light plunged into the stocking as the lip was opened wide, Fawn's head whipping to the side to avoid the blinding rays. Not a moment later, the sky was eclipsed by the monumental shadow of a hand, five long fingers blotting out the sun as they descended slowly to grasp at the possessions within.

Fawn squirmed forward frantically, the ribbon biting into her arms as she tried to burrow out of reach. One by the one the treasures were lifted out and examined, the stocking growing horribly empty around her until only she remained. She curled into herself, trembling violently as the hand plunged back down to grasp blindly for its final present.

Fawn let out a strangled yelp, bucking violently as the rough, warm skin of the master's fingers grazed over her. His hand jolted backward in surprise, a sound of confusion rumbling outside the stocking as the fingers slowly retreated. Fawn's heart thudded with a reckless hope.

Perhaps he would let the stocking fall...perhaps she could still manage to escape...

Then, to her horror, a single, stormy-blue eye darkened the opening, squinting down at her, then widening in disbelief.

The master swore quietly, the top of the stocking cinching shut and plunging Fawn back into darkness.

"Too many brandies..."

Before Fawn could even breathe, the stocking's lip was pried open again, the enormous hand bearing down with renewed purposed. Heartbeat thrumming wildly, Fawn tried desperately to squirm deeper within, but the slippery walls of the stocking left her no purchase. Shaking through the heaves of her sobs, she felt the powerful weight of his fingers overcome her, pushing and prodding her tiny body against the silk with a terrible curiosity. This time, her pitiful flails were ignored. The immense fingers engulfed her completely, plucking her out and holding her helplessly before his monumental face.

For a moment, she merely blinked, utterly incapable of processing the sheer magnitude of him. From this close, every detail emerged as a revelation: his irises like roiling thunderclouds struck by a shaft of sun; the thousand flecks of colour on the canvas of his skin, soft creases of laughter and sorrow diverging like rivers; the steady thrum of his breathing that ruffled her thick hair across her face. Then her mind went utterly blank, her body seized by the force of a primitive and animalistic terror. Every muscle, every nerve, seemed to freeze, paralysing her under wave after wave of icy shock. Her mouth gaped open, shallow breaths coming hard and fast as her eyes glazed over with tears.

"Well now..." he rumbled. "What do we have here?"

Fawn swallowed back a sob, fire flushing her face as his globe-like eyes consumed her, the entirety of her being barely enough to warrant a single flicker. She had never felt so shamefully insignificant as she did then, trussed up like a present and examined against her will, the gaze that owned her shifting from surprise, to interest, to lazy bemusement.

"What a strange little plaything you are..." he laughed incredulously. "You must be a gift from Walker...one of those automatons he's been on about..."

The sweet warmth of the master's brandy-soaked breath blew around Fawn, setting her limbs to quaking. Her throat ran so dry that she choked, unable to do anything but shake her head in a desperate, wordless plea.

"God, but you're so lifelike...", he paused curiously, placing her down on her stomach in his palm, his forefinger pushing at the ribbon to pinch at her shirt.

"Where are your gears..."

"Stop..." she moaned, her tiny voice breaking pathetically through her tears. "Stop, I beg you..."

The finger upon her went instantly rigid, releasing the hem of her shirt before slowly nudging her onto her back.

"I'm not a plaything..." she gasped... "Please, I'm not...I'm not..."

His brow knit tightly, passionate eyes sweeping over her in confusion. They seemed to study her more carefully this time, lingering on her heaving chest, her tiny limbs wracked with trembling. The amusement that had first warmed his gaze slowly began to shrink away, vanishing entirely at the sight of her tear-stained face, turned up to him in helpless terror.

"Oh, good god," he breathed, "you're alive."

Fawn let out a sob of acknowledgement, somewhere between abject fear and relief.

His face came alive again at the small reaction, eyes travelling up and down her body in ceaseless amazement. His mouth opened then closed soundlessly, confusion and awe warring across his brooding features.

"You...you talk. You understand me..."

She nodded desperately.

"Fascinating..."

Fawn's stomach plummeted.

He wasn't letting her go. He knew she was a living, sentient being, and still he wasn't letting her go.

"What are you..." he uttered, as if speaking to himself.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice verging on hysterical, "just put me down. Just leave me be, I'm begging you..."

His brows arched at her plea, his enormous eyes ceasing their wandering to fix on her face. When he spoke, his voice was deep as thunder, his tone verging between amusement and pity.

"And where exactly do you think you'll be going, little sylph? I'm afraid you won't get very far all wrapped up like my stocking stuffer."

Fawn's head swooned, his words crashing over her like an icy wave. She began to shake violently, tears tumbling down her soft cheeks. He was teasing her. Playing with her. Taking pleasure from her terror.

He exhaled softly through his nose, his eyes pooling with feeling. "Come now, you'll be alright."

Fawn squeaked pitifully as her body was shifted, his finger laying her down flat against the vast stretch of his open palm. A terrible pressure descended upon her from above, sending her into a mad fit of hopeless thrashing.

"Please!" she wailed, "Please don't hurt me! I'm begging you! There...there are others..." she rambled frantically. "If I don't come back, they'll come for you. They'll see you bleed for this!"

"Shh, settle down, little one" he rumbled softly.

His words fell on deaf ears, Fawn straining against his fingers with every ounce of her pitiful strength. Through some miracle she managed to finally slip one hand free of her restraints, her tiny fingernails immediately tearing at his palm.

He smothered a soft chuckle at the small fluttering of her fingers, leaning over her so that his enormous mouth was mere inches from her head.

"I'm not trying to hurt you little one, I'm trying to untie you. Now stay still."

Fawn went meek at the force of his command, whimpering unintelligibly as his heavy digits descended again, prodding into her back and pressing her flush against the warmth of his palm. Blood pounded in her ears like a war drum, her mind wrestling to subdue every sane instinct to revolt against the threat.

After several unbearable minutes, his booming voice broke over her again.

"I'm afraid your binds are too tight. I'm going to have to cut them loose."

"No!" Fawn shrieked, all restraint dissolving into unbridled panic at the thought of massive, steel blades pressing into her. "No! Please!"

But her cries were ignored, the world shifting into movement around her as she was borne straight out of the parlour and into the darkness of his study. Laying her down carefully on the desk, he leaned forward to draw back the curtains and let the cold winter light stream into the hushed room. With her free hand, Fawn heaved herself desperately forward, edging across the desk on her stomach and as far away from him as possible. She had barely moved several feet when the shadow of his hand fell back over her. He huffed gently at her helplessness, effortlessly plucking her up and setting her right back down before him, his thumb pinning her to the desk.

"There you are," he hushed. "No one is going to hurt you, little one. I promise."

Fawn panted wildly under the weight, straining her head to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind her. She had never felt more powerless in her life, her fate literally in the hands of a stranger.

A human.

He seemed to understand her anguish, his face softening in sympathy as he reached down with his free hand into one of his drawers. "I'm taking out the scissors now", he spoke calmly, his hand moving with deliberate slowness as he extracted the glinting steel. "Don't be alarmed. I won't use them until you're ready."

Tears blinded Fawn's vision as his powerful fingers pressed her flat against the hard wood, knocking the breath slightly from her tiny lungs. From over her shoulder, she looked on helplessly as his other hand encroached upon her with that terrible implement of death.

"Now I need you to be very brave and hold completely still, little one. I don't want to hurt you, so it's very important that you keep that loose arm tight against yourself. And don't flinch. Can you do that for me?"

Fawn bit back a sob, nodding her head jerkily in understanding.

"That's it," he muttered.

It took every ounce of her willpower not to squirm as the glistening blades descended, the cold steel pressing up against her skin like the very hand of the reaper. She felt as if she had thrust her head deep into the jaws of an animal, not knowing when those sharp fangs may snap shut.

"Just do it!" she spluttered.

With a terrible, crushing slice she felt her left arm loosen and come free, then one leg, then another. A moment later, the living weight of his fingers lifted from her back. Immediately, her hands shot out, frantically patting over her face and limbs as if reassuring herself she was still in one piece. Turning to sit up shakily, she looked down at the last remnants of the harness knotted expertly tight against her chest, relief flooding her that he hadn't dared try to cut away those bonds.

"See? You're okay. You're alright."

The deep rumble of the master's voice startled Fawn into action, sending her scampering backward on all fours as she scrambled to rise. Her body teetered over with exhaustion, limbs trembling beneath her as she fell to her behind, then tried to run again.

A slight tug brought her whole world to a standstill.

Freezing in place, Fawn's eyes trailed down a stray piece of harness, which was now pinched between the master's colossal finger and thumb.

To be caught by a human is to surrender your life. Even if they don't kill you, they will keep you. 

She squeaked as another colossal hand descended behind her, fingers curling around her back. She peered up at him, shaking her head in disbelieving horror.

"Hey now, little one, don't look at me like that," he tilted his head, his brow creasing with pity.

She mustered as much courage as she could, her voice unnaturally high in her panic.

"Let me go."

"You've had a shock, little one," he uttered.

"I...I said let me go!"

"Look at you," he reasoned. "You're trembling. You're so weak you can barely stand. Let me at least make sure you're unharmed."

Her eyes flickered between his and the rest of the room, scouring it for possible escape routes. As she did, her eyes fell upon a large, glass case to her right. Inside, rows upon rows of ephemeral butterflies lay forever dormant, their beautiful, fragile bodies savagely impaled by pins.

"Unharmed?" she choked.

His eyes followed hers, widening in horror.

"Oh, god no."

He released the ribbon immediately, sending Fawn stumbling back slightly into his hand. Her body clenched at the contact, every muscle taught and poised to run.

"Please forgive me..." he uttered apologetically. "I had not thought what that must look like to one so small..."

He rubbed a hand haggardly over his sharp jaw.

"I collect them... from exhibitions...other naturalists. Some I find on my nature walks , already dead on the ground. They fascinate me...so small and fragile, but with such alarming strength. Wings like paper! And yet they fly straight across oceans, through windstorm and gale..." he trailed off, as if embarrassed to be caught in this brief flicker of passion. 

"I'm a botanist, you see. I study plants," he gestured around the room. "To my father's great disappointment, I never could bring myself to kill a living thing..."

Fawn's eyes flickered over him warily, turning his words over anxiously in her mind. There was something so vulnerable in his admission...in the pain it seemed to hide. The elders would tell her it was a ruse to gain her trust, to trick her into surrendering. And yet...why bother untangling her from her bindings if he'd wanted to keep her for himself. She had made her own capture pitifully easy, and still he hadn't harmed her. In fact, he had helped her.

Fawn clenched her teeth as his hand closed in gently around her, his storm-blue eyes like two tidepools in the rain. Heart hammering wildly, she stood her ground as the warm pad of his thumb brushed against her arm, grazing up and down it in a motion so unnervingly close to soothing.

"What kind of man would I be to harm something – someone – so helpless...?"

Fawn's heart flipped. Someone? He saw her as someone?

With those words, the warmth of his hand retreated, and with it the air held tightly in Fawn's lungs. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath until it gusted from her with a flurry of butterflies.

"You're not my captive, little one," he sighed. "Though I must say you fascinate me to no end...little sylph that you are," his mouth quirked into a half smile. "I would like to make sure you're alright...but I will not keep you with me against your will. If you want to go, then go. You're free."

She swallowed heavily as he fixed her with the weight of his stare.

"So, tell me, little one. What will it be?"

***

Author's Note

Eeeee! The first meeting we've all been waiting for!  Did you enjoy it? I personally loved imagining a Thomas that was not yet corrupted by power and sin.

Remember, new chapter(s) every day until Christmas. And if you like what you read:

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xx