The thingamajig is in the spoiler.
Sleepless
There were few nights when Thath found sleep, few nights when he rested his head on a pillow and able to rest.
Most nights were spent watching Theline as she paced around the room, her ghostlike frame draped in white cloth that billowed out like curtains in the wind. Eventually, when her body fatigued and gave out from the lack of sleep and the constant state of starvation, she would settle down. Her mind would quiet and she would lay down beside him.
Those nights she would dream. Those night she would wake shaking and crying. She would stay up until the light from dawn revealed the dark circles that had surrounded her eyes since they were children in the city.
Often enough, he could get her to drink a bit of tea or eat a bit of bread with the spicy sleep root, then she would sleep soundly and dreamless. On those nights, he sat in a chair against the wall and watched, watched her sleep, watched shadows creep along the walls, and watched the room for danger.
When he did sleep, when life managed to allow him to, he dreamed.
He dreamed of angry eyes. He dreamed of people who wanted to kill him, of parents who had not wanted him, who had sent him to live at the city, of city mages who cared less if he died. Sometimes, there was a woman who smiled at him from within green flames that did not burn. Sometimes, those flames were the same ones that burned down Garelle Manor.
Those nights he woke drenched in sweat.
He dreamed of the daughter he had let go, of the life she lived without him, without everything, of the brother she had watched die, and the reality that she could find the same fate.
Those nights he woke crying.
He dreamed of Theline. Cold and still. Dead. Dead from the sickness that had been steadily killing her, from poison in her food, from a knife in her chest, from the things he had been helpless to stop.
Those nights he woke screaming and did not sleep for days.
