Grian does not believe in soulmates.
And this world is different then all of the others he’s existed in, different then his Watcher life and his builds in his worlds with all his friends. There is still the familiarity here, in this new world, the family that he has found in the world called Hermitcraft has joined him here, all smiles and bright laughter.
But in this world, in this world he is grounded .
And his wings are bulky and in the way, something Grian could never notice when they had the ability to carry him through the air. The usual macaw blue and red and yellow that creates his coloring is gone– the colors replaced with browns and whites and grays.
Grian cannot remember what bird flies with wings like these.
The white is dirtied by the dust and mud that has already decided to settle over the feathers from every step he takes, his feet dragging through the dirt on his way to find a home. His wings hurt in a deep aching sort of way, the primary feathers damaged beyond a regeneration potion.
Damaged in a way that he cannot twist himself to see.
Damaged in a way that hurts with every stumbling step that he takes.
Damaged in a way that only hurts, throbbing like an open wound.
Damaged beyond use.
And Grian does not believe in soulmates for this reason.
Because even after he watches his friends find their soulmate, the ones that they are meant to follow through this world until their lives turn from green to yellow to red to no longer here and the world decides who is the victor, Grian does not believe in soulmates.
Because Grian does not want to saddle his soulmate with a flightless bird.
For what use is a bird without flight–
He blinks away the sweat in his eyes, ducking low as a feather whistles through the air over his head. The skeleton is within reach of his sword, weak stone shattering against the boney ribcage of the mob.
“Another useless thing.” Grian mumbles the words, tossing the grip of the shattered sword away and bringing his axe out from his belt.
It’s not his preferred tool, not in this body with these wings that don’t move how they should. His inability to jump high enough for critical hits due to the weight of his wings caused the axe that he crafted in haste to be more useless than useful, the urge to throw it away only ignored with the memory of exactly how many materials went into its creation.
Grian hasn’t found his heart yet– his green heart that tells the world that he is not hostile, it’s not in its usual spot over his heart.
He wonders if his heart rests on his soulmates.
And then he remembers that he does not believe in soulmates.
So he assumes the heart is on his back, in a place for traitors easy reach and he will be cautious with his friendships.
“I wish Mumbo was here.” The words are mumbled into the wind, Grian’s voice soft as it passes across the expanse of snowy mountains and stoney hills. He’s waiting for the goats to get aggravated with him, hoping that they will charge and he will be met with an intact horn on the stone below his feet.
It is the only reason he’s allowing himself the opportunity to stay in one place for this long.
The goat charges and Grian wishes for wings the moment it does. He scrambles backwards, hands struggling to find a purchase against the stone mountain at his backside. He’s only able to pull himself up a few feet, the pressure he puts on his wings is too painful for him to pull all the way out of the goats path. It barely misses the bottoms of his sneakers before crashing into the place where he once stood.
And then Grian feels the pain of an arrow in his stomach.
He’s sliding back down the rock face, wings scraping painfully as he travels the little distance he was capable of climbing. Grian places two hands on his stomach, putting pressure on a wound that is not there and gasping for air.
“I have a soulmate.”
The moment he admits it to himself, Grian cannot breathe.
His throat burns, eyes filling with salty tears as his hands push into the stone at his sides in an attempt at grounding himself. He’s trying not to cry, trying not to feel anything for whoever exists on the other side of this soul bond that has been forced upon him.
More than anything he wishes that he could sever the bond– to change the fate of whoever has been tied to the bird who cannot fly.
To save the sorry soul who is grounded twice.
Grian’s walking away from the stoney mountain before he knows where he’s going, his eyes scanning the edges of the trees in a poor attempt to find something to eat.
There’s a fire up ahead and he spends too long debating whether or not to approach. Grian’s fear of meeting his soulmate outwaying all want to for comfort. It’s a battle he loses as he stumbles through the dense forest in the direction of the campfire.
He knows he recognizes the voices but he’s too tired to try and place them.
“Who's there?” The voice is gruff and meant to sound threatening but Grian is smiling at the voice.
“It’s me Etho. It’s Grian–”
Then there’s a sword in his face and a dangerous look in Etho’s eyes. The red of the firelight flickers over the side of his face, “What color are you Grian?”
Grian doesn’t mind the threat. He takes a deep breath. “Green.” Etho’s hand doesn’t waver from where it holds the sword. Grian swallows thickly, “I promise Etho. I’m green, I haven’t even been injured.”
And then he’s being hugged.
Etho’s pulled him close, wrapping the shorter man in a hug that means the world in a hostile environment like this. Etho’s arms press into his back under his wings and his head rests on top of Grian’s.
“It’s good to see you.”
Grian returns the sentiment, his voice cracking from the exhaustion that seems to be weighing him down more than he thought it would.
Etho is not alone, “Joel? Is that you?”
Joel waves from where he’s cooking food over the fire, he looks up. “Hey Grian.” In his moment of distraction, Joel’s fingertips brush too close to the hot coals.
Joel winces, Etho hisses.
The apology is immediate, “Sorry.” Joel looks embarrassed, his hand pulled close to his chest and the other gripping the food tighter. “I didn’t mean to.”
Etho shakes his head, “It’s not as bad as that pillager that got too friendly earlier.” Etho’s rubbing at his shoulder, there’s a story there that Grian should ask about.
“You're soulmates.” It’s not a question, and the look shared between the two is soft, something that makes Grian feel like an outsider. There’s a glowing green heart on Joel’s sleeve, Grian hadn’t even considered asking what color either of them were. His regard for his safety is lacking in his current flightless state.
“I’m happy for you.” Grian doesn’t sound like it.
Etho is grinning, “It was by accident that we found out–” He moves to sit next to his soulmate, taking Joel’s singed fingertips and applying a salve to them. “We weren’t far from each other when we joined this world, I fell into a mine right in front of him and he took damage watching me fall.”
Grian sits too close to the fire, his skin already growing too warm. He shuffles his wings in an attempt to loosen the dirt and rocks stuck in his feathers. “Have you seen anyone else? Any other–” He can’t bring himself to say the word, Joel understands him nonetheless.
“Oh, hmm–” Etho tosses a piece of meat across the fire to Grian before he can protest. “I saw Bdubs yesterday morning, he looked a bit worse for wear and Scar!” Etho smiles, “Scar was doing his best to find an Allay and Martin, him and I found a pillager outpost– which was rather lucky.”
There’s silence for just a moment, the fire crackling between them a welcomed sound. “Oh and Bdubs found his soulmate– I discovered that a few hours ago.” Joel is smiling as he says it, “It’s Impulse of all people, I think they’ll be rather lucky with that. They looked happy when we left them in the geode we found.”
Some part of Grian finds this exciting, the other part convinces him he doesn’t care.
“And Scar and Martin are soulmates–” Joel starts around a bite of mutton, Etho interrupting before he can finish his thought.
“No, they thought they were, but it was just a coincidence.” Etho shrugs, “If Martin and Scar were soulmates I don’t think they’d last very long–”
Grian wants to comment on the thought, he holds his tongue.
“What about you, Grian?”
The avian stays silent, shuffling in his seat and forcing himself to stay silent when the movement shifts his wings. He had almost convinced himself that they were fine, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
“I’m trying to build a home now– or at least find a place to settle.” He knows that it isn’t the answer that Joel or Etho was looking for, but he doesn’t change his response. “I haven’t been too lucky– or rather I haven’t been looking. I got distracted by the goat’s–”
Joel is leaning forward energetically, tipping too close for comfort to the flames, Etho’s hands are on his shoulders stopping him from falling. “Do you have any extras?!”
He does and passes them over without hesitation or promise of a trade.
“We were thinking of building above the pillager outpost,” Etho shrugs as he says it, as if building above extremely hostile mobs was a common occurrence in his life. “Scar thinks if we build high enough they won’t be able to spawn up there with us, and if we do build up there, then we’ll have automatic guards. Want to join?”
Almost immediately Grian wants to say no, the thoughts of exactly how dumb that plan is overcome by the thought of seeing another person he considers his friend in a world that is not this one.
“Okay.”
They leave the moment the sun rises in between the leaves. Grian smothers the fire with his heel, spreading the ashes and pointedly ignoring when they get caught in his wings. He follows a few feet behind Joel and Etho, watching their backs and ignoring the way his heart hurts at the thought of soulmates.
The trio finds Scar easily, the man is standing at the top of a ravine, the trio are in boats at the bottom. Scar is dressed in a rather impractical brown fedora and leather jacket, not that Grian can say anything in his usual red sweater. He waves, shouting hellos as he jumps from the top of the ravine, barely missing the stone that juts out from the walls before landing in the water.
Scar reappears a moment later, laughing loudly and floating on his back. “Hello!”
Grian smiles as a reply, tipping himself out of the boat and into the water. He’s diving for fish immediately, ignoring the way he feels watching how easily the three interact above the water. There are no awkward pauses and avoiding questions. When Grian resurfaces it is to the three of them standing on the edge of the land, feet sinking in the mud there without care.
The avian stays in the water, placing a campfire down on the edge of the water and cooking without leaving it. He doesn’t want to risk the feeling of the mud in his wings, no one comments on him staying in the water.
“This is my allay!” Scar stands in shin highwater and holds something that glows out to Grian. “Her name is Minnie!”
Grian smiles without protest, looking down at the blue being with as friendly of a face he can muster. “Hello Minnie.” She barely spares him a glance before floating away, her wings fully capable of carrying her into the air. Something in Grian’s chest hurts.
Scar turns away, “Minnie! Minnie, where are you going!” Scar slips in the mud and fails at righting himself before he hits the wall of the ravine. “Shoot–” Scar’s looking at his hands, there is a red shimmer of blood, Grian can see it from here.
His own hands sting.
“No.” Grian’s voice is firm, his breath speeding up as he watches Scar scramble away.
Grian doesn’t believe in soulmates.
“Scar– Scar–”
Scar waves him off, “It’s fine Grian! Just a scratch– I need to catch Minnie.”
“Scar!” Grian tries to put urgency into his voice, but Scar is already too far away. Grian’s voice is lost to the wind, “Scar, I think we are soulmates and you’re too busy chasing fairies for me to tell you–”
But Grian doesn’t believe in soulmates, and when Scar meanders back with Minnie on his shoulder Grian firmly sets the thought in his mind.
He keeps his mouth shut as Joel and Etho ask after Scar and his soulmate.
He keeps his mouth shut as they approach the pillagers outpost.
And Grian keeps his mouth shut when the arrow pierces the side of his head, burrowing in the skin at his hairline.
Grian winces, forcing himself to sprint faster through the hostile mobs, he can already see scar pillaring up ahead, somehow the man has already made his way to the top of the tower with barely a scratch.
Some part of Grian is proud.
The other reminds him that he doesn’t believe in soulmates.
“Scar!” Grian’s voice echoes across the plains, “Scar you should have been safer about this–”
Scar shrugs, “I just booked it and I was safe–” He leans over the edge of the hastily constructed platform.
“Don’t do that in this world!” Grian is chastising him without thinking it through, “It’s not only your life Scar– you’re playing with someone else’s life here!” He’s angry, his own life at risk in this moment of horrible confidence that Scar had.
“It worked though.” He is smiling as he watches the pillagers below them.
“It worked this time but you could have killed m–” Grian cuts himself off, “You could have killed someone.”
“Like you?” Scar turns around, and for just a moment Grian thinks that Scar knows. “I noticed you were having trouble down there– you have an arrow in your eye.”
“Yeah, you kind of left me for dead down there.” Grian’s words are harsher than he means for them to be and more than anything he is glad that the string that ties the pair of them together only counts against physical injuries.
Scar’s face falls. “I’m– I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–” Scar backs away from the edge of the platform, standing a few feet away from Grian with the smallest of smiles. “Here–”
He offers the healing potion without thinking about it.
Grian shakes his head. “No, that’s a waste on m–” He pauses, “On an injury as small as this. Save it for later.”
If Scar notices his slip up he doesn’t comment.
Grian focuses on the arrow still protruding from his head. He pulls it free from the soft skin beside his eye and presses a bandage to it in an instant. It stings more than he wants it to and it takes everything in him not to ask for help. He wraps it slowly, already hating the idea of losing half his vision, even if it’s only for a few days.
When he’s done, Scar is back to sitting on the edge of the platform and Etho and Joel have already climbed up and begun building on the opposite side of the platform, the words spoken between the pair of them just barely whispers.
“It’s so quiet up here.” Scar’s voice is soft, his back to Grian and his braced legs hanging off the edge of the dark oak platform. “It’s peaceful.”
Grian shakes his head and resists the urge to disagree, his palms sweating as he stands as close to the center as he can. He is a bird who cannot fly, hundreds of feet into the air, his wings are already throbbing from the pain of an injury he cannot see, he does not want to risk falling from this height.
Scar pats the spot beside him, Grian shakes his head again, the seated man turns and catches the end of the movement.
“What?” Scar tilts his head, “Afraid of heights all of a sudden?”
His words are not malicious, but all Grian can think of is how badly it will hurt to fall with wings that will not carry his weight.
Scar nods, changing the topic of conversation easily. “Well, I guess we are roommates with SmallEtho.” The way that he says it makes Grian smile, “At least they are a little bit better at staying alive then I am.”
And then Grian laughs loudly, the sound falling against the open sky and settling into the air on wings. He wants to apologize for laughing the moment the sound leaves his lips but Scar is smiling just as brightly.
The smile doesn’t last long, a pillager suddenly stands between them and Grian is shouting for help.
“Etho!”
Grian’s sword is in his hand in an instant and he brings the sword down on the man before him, pushing him backwards and off the edge. “We need to get down from here! Now. ”
“Oh gods this was a bad idea– this was a bad idea–” Scar is repeating himself. He’s shaking like a leaf as he backs away from the edge of the platform.
Grian is shouting instantly, waving his hands out of sheer frustration and doing everything he can not to lose his temper completely. “I knew this was a terrible plan!”
Etho is yelling for them, motioning for them to follow them to the edge and Grian is going against every instinct in his mind as he steps closer to edge. There are barely a few steps between him and the drop, and this is not the first time he has wished for his wings to heal. Joel is first over, jumping with the confidence of someone who is not afraid of falling and as Etho disappears over the edge Grian realizes the irony of being a bird that is afraid of falling.
Scar steps up to the edge, ready to leap but only stopping himself when he locks eyes with Grian.
“Grian! There’s water–” Scar takes a step towards Grian, his braced knee buckling from the sudden change in direction. “We need to go. ”
He nods, forcing himself to take a step forward.“After you–” Some part of Grian doesn’t want to trust Scar not to push him, he watches as Scar leaps, his hand holding his hat down on his head as he falls. The distinct sound of a splash prompts Grian to follow.
Grian forces himself to run into the jump, the ground impossibly far below him as he falls. On instanct, he forces his wings and nearly passes out from the pain of it. The unforgiving wind pulling on injuries he cannot see.
He slams into the water’s surface, practically sobbing from the pain in his wings.
When Grian surfaces his lungs are full of water and hands are pulling him free from the frigid water. Some small part of him fights the pull but he is centered on someone’s back before he can truly protest.
The familiar white hair of Etho is all that he can see, his friend is huffing from the strain of carrying Grian.
And Grian wonders if he’ll die here and take Scar with him.
“You’re not dying here Grian–” Etho mumbles it and Grian realizes he spoke allowed. “Cleo!” Etho’s voice is loud and teasing, “Care for a visit from some old friends?”
The pillagers are still calling behind them, loading crossbows and shooting with half-hazardous aim. Cleo screams, a sound that is meant more for dramatics than anything else, and curses the quartet for bringing such terrible house guests.
Grian cannot remember what happened yet and when he wakes up in a warm bed with bandages that are much nicer than his quick fix he is grateful that he wasn’t left for dad. He can hear his companions voices outside, alongside some that he cannot seem to place in this moment. Grian takes his time standing, his wings more like weights trying to tip him over then their usual help with balance.
When Grian steps out into the sun, he tilts his head back, basking in the rays as if he hadn’t seen the sun in days.
“Grian!” The voice is distinctly Bdubs– “You look much better than you did last night.”
He can see the smile in Bdubs eyes, the teasing look that makes Grian copy his smile. “Thank you for taking care of my eye Bdubs, it means a lot to my…” Grian trails off and Bdubs smiles brightly.
“Oh! Oh! Are you as happy as me and mine?”
It takes Grian longer than he would ever care to admit to remember who Bdubs’ soulmate is.
“Mine doesn’t know yet–” The response is automatic and the first time he’s actually spoken about his soulmate since learning who it was without hesitation. Grian stops, his mouth clicking shut and his eyes finding the ground at his feet.
Bdubs hums in a way that says he disagrees with Grian.
But Grian doesn’t care, because Grian does not believe in soulmates.
“Thank you again for your help Bdubs, is m–” He shakes his head, “Is Scar here? Or Joel and Etho?”
“No, no, no, no, they’ve gone off already–”
Grian doesn’t know why the thought of them leaving hurts so much.
“But Scar’s still here.” Bdubs smiles, “He wanted to make sure you were okay before he went off, he said something about making a house with the pandas?” He shrugs, “Something like that.”
The winged man smiles and moves to step past Bdubs, his wings brushing the top of the doorway and the heat of the safari already sticking to his skin. He rolls his shoulders, stealing himself for the words he has to share with Scar, every part of him wanting to protect, the rest of him wanting to avoid.
“Scar,” Grian resists the urge to smile as Scar turns to face him, “Thank you for waiting around for me–”
Scar is smiling his usual happy smile, eyes shining with excitement, “Of course! I had to make sure my friend was okay, especially since it was– ya know– partially my fault.” He mumbles the last few words of his sentence and Grian doesn’t have it in him to fight the statement.
Grian changes the subject.
“I think I am going to go and try to get set up–” Grian turns back to wear he remembers the water filled ravine being. “You’re welcome to join me, Scar.”
Part of him wants Scar to say yes, the other part reminds Grian that he does not believe in soulmates.
“I might build a base with the pandas.”
Grian can practically hear the shrug in Scar’s voice. He turns his head to his feet as Bdubs approaches and speaks to Scar, he cannot bring himself to pay attention. Not until Scar’s laughter passes over him, his voice bright as he replies to Bdubs: “Who needs a soulmate when you have Jellie.”
The words almost hurt.
“I’ll see you Scar.” Grian’s walking away without a proper goodbye and without being sure that he was going in the right direction.
Bdub’s and Scar’s voice follows him to the treeline:
“Don’t tell me you ditched your soulmate Scar,” Bdubs is serious.
Scar is teasing, “I haven’t found my soulmate and I don’t plan to either."
The avian has barely made it into the tree line before his feet start to sting and his knees feel like they are bruising, he half considers turning around to check on Scar and force him to follow.
But Grian cannot believe in soulmates.
And then he’s back at the ravine without any real idea of how he got there, Grian looks out at the pillager’s tower, at the failed safety that Scar and Etho and Joel had attempted to create.
Grian feels alone as he starts to build his house. The first thing he begins to build is a wall to first keep out the pillagers that look at him from the other side of the ravine and second to protect him from anyone who deems him a threat.
The feeling of an arrow in his shoulder causes Grian to wonder about Scar’s safety.
Bruised knuckles change the wonder to a want to protect.
A quickly fixed dislocated shoulder causes Grian to want to find Scar.
And it’s only after a particularly stinging blow to his stomach that knocks Grian from his scaffolding does he start to track down Scar.
It doesn’t take long, the memory of Scar saying about building with the panda’s leads Grian to the only stretch of jungle in this world, and there he is, in all his glory, surrounded by Panda’s and smiling from the excitement of the little ones standing near him.
“Grian!” Scar’s happiness is tangible, “Look!”
It takes Grian a minute to speak, “They’re great Scar, just wonderful.”
And then Scar’s rambling about his plans for the place, how exactly he’ll make his home in the trees and where the panda’s will live and Grian’s growing more comfortable with the idea of having a soulmate.
“Scar–” Scar hums in reply, still rambling about how to properly feed a panda, “Scar there’s something important I need to tell you.”
Grian purposefully misses a step, his knee slamming into the ground in a way that burns but doesn’t ache.
Scar is still talking about the pandas and the sun is setting and Scar’s base is not mob proof.
“Scar I need you to look at me–” Grian feels as though he cannot breathe, his heart is caught in his chest, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“I am– I am–” Scar’s eyes stil rest on the panda’s in front of him.
And then Grian shouts, his voice cracking on the last syllable; “Look at me Scar!”
Scar’s eyes focus only on him.
Grian draws a knife from his belt, the knife he only ever uses to cut bread and isn’t sharp enough to truly wound. He brings it to rest across his palm without hesitation and Scar’s shouting at him to stop but all Grian can hear is the hiss of pain that follows the moment the blade cuts flesh.
“Oh my god.” Scar’s voice is loud, a protest against whoever decided on this system. “This whole time–”
Scar knows that Grian is angry but all he can think is the same phrase over and over again: I do not believe in soulmates.
I do not believe in soulmates.
“We’ve been parading around the server and you knew the whole time!” Grian winces at Scar’s tone, wishing more than anything that he could take back his words.
Grian nods his head, his voice barely above a whisper, “Why else do you think I’ve been so worried about your safety. I thought–”
“I don’t care what you thought! You should have told me!” Scar’s words bite at Grian’s ears.
Grian shuffles his wings. “I didn’t tell you because– because I didn’t want a soulmate.”
I do not believe in soulmates.
All the fight leaves Scar in an instant, “What?” His voice is soft, broken, he looks impossibly sad and everything in Grian hurts for saying it.
“I didn’t think you would want a broken soulmate–” Grian cuts himself off, his wings pulling close against his sides as he tries to hold himself together. “I–”
I do not believe in soulmates.
Scar shakes his head, his words firm in a way that Grian has only ever heard when Scar is being serious. He throws his hands out to the side, “And I didn’t think my soulmate would want someone accident prone, that doesn't mean I didn’t want one in the first place!”
“Oh.” It’s all Grian can think of for a response.
It’s quiet.
And more than anything Grian wants to turn around and fly away but– “My wings don’t work in this world.” He resists the urge to shuffle the wings on his back. “They’re– they’re damaged and no one wants a soulmate that is just going to–”
“Why didn’t you let Joel look at them– or Etho!” Scar’s voice is more frustrated than anything. “Or even Pearl! We spent most of the day with Etho and he knows avian biology better than any–”
“I don’t trust him–” The words left his lips without hesitation.
Grian knew that they had died today, an accident on the side of Etho’s soulmate Joel, but they had died nonetheless, dragging the other to the grave with a broken heart. The avian couldn’t bring himself to approach them since their death. The memories of past worlds– of past lives– and of betrayals sit firm on his chest and–
“Then let me look at them.” Scar shrugs, stepping forward and holding out a hand as if to touch them.
Grian reacts in an instant, stepping back and pulling his wings flat against his back. The hurt that is visible in Scar’s face turns quickly to a pitying look.
Grian isn’t sure which he prefers.
“As your soulmate–” Scar’s words are soft, his hands resting back at his side and waiting for some verbal cue that it is okay for him to approach. “Let me look at them.”
“I don’t want a soulmate Scar.”
I do not believe in soulmates.
Scar nods. “What about for old times sake then?”
And instead of every betrayal, Grian can only see the time they spent together in the desert. The laughter and joy and chasing bees that they did perfectly content and existing on different colored lives.
“They look like they hurt.” Scar makes no move to step forward, though his braces do creak in protest for standing too long. He is smiling softly, hands held out to the side to show he means no harm. “No trust necessary, just a once over for old times sake between friends.”
And Grian finds himself nodding, though he cannot be sure if it is through genuine trust or if it is through some remedial emotions shared between the magic that binds them as soulmates–
I do not believe in soulmates.
“Okay.”
Scar leads the way, walking in the front and with casual steps. Grian follows suit, smiling at the little grey and white cat that finds him in an instant and weaves between his legs as he walks. He cannot remember the last time he saw Jellie.
No words are said as Scar leads him into the mountainside base and offers him a chair.
“You–” Grian’s voice cracks as he sits down, propping his head on the back of the chair and opening his wings as far as he can, “you still know what you are doing right?”
There is a casual sound to Scar’s voice when he speaks, “Course I do.” His first touch is cautious, his fingertips brushing along the outer edge of the wings.
Scar hums as he works. Some nonsensical tune that makes Grian relax into the chair below him.
Grian has always liked it when his friends preen his wings. There is a necessary level of comfort necessary between him and the other, but friends are easy to make in the HermitCraft world. It is only these odd smaller worlds that cause him problems.
Scar finishes preening one wing before deciding to speak for the first time, his words just barely above a whisper. “Why is your heart on your back?”
The response comes without issue, “It’s the Watchers playing favorites.” Grian whispers, willing his voice to stay in this little safe space created in Scar’s small base while his wings are being preened. “They don’t want me to trust anyone. I’ve– I’ve caused enough problems as is.”
“And what if I said you could trust me?”
Grian doesn’t say anything for a long time, not until Scar has finished preening his other wing and helps him close his wings as carefully as possible. His hands were soft and delicate in a way that Grian couldn’t help but appreciate.
His offer is softly spoken the moment he turns to face Scar, “I’ve been working on a base–” Grian takes a breath, “If you want to come with me…” He trails off, petrified that Scar will say no.
They stand in silence with each other and Grian can feel the soft stare that Scar has fixed on him. Scar’s reply comes after a few minutes of silence.
“And what about not trusting me?”
Grian shrugs, acting nonchalant though his voice tremors the moment he speaks, “You had a sword the whole time and didn’t do anything–”
“I would never willingly hurt you, Grian.”
And Grian believes him, though he cannot explain why.
They walk in peaceful silence towards Grian’s new base, Jellie following just behind with Minnie the Allay resting on Scar’s shoulder. It’s only when Scar trips does Grian consider offering his arm to him.
And Grian decides that maybe he believes in soulmates.
But only when Scar is his.
