Chapter Text
Over the next couple of days, Grian took care of Scar while he recovered. Slowly improving his cooking skills (even if it was something as simple as making soup,) and working as much as he could in the garden to make sure Scar didn’t need to do anything. He even read to him a few times, as requested, even if it was slow going. Still occasionally getting tripped up on the bigger words, or the ones that didn’t follow normal translations from text to speech. He hated getting up every morning to be the first one up. Scar had always been the first up before.
Grian hated watching as Scar struggled to even sit up, to stand just to walk down the hall to the bathroom. (He felt so helpless.) So, when on day three, Scar got up before Grian, even if it was just to read in his lounge chair in the living room, he couldn't help but feel an excited happiness bubble up in him. And on the next, when he woke up to breakfast, even more so. He had smiled so widely up at the man, his wings fluffing out as they wanted to flutter behind him.
And Scar smiled back. It was a small, tired thing but it was a smile, nonetheless. Of course, if Grian kept an extra careful watch on him after the fact, hovered around him more, asked if he needed help more, well. If Scar ever took notice, he made no mention of it. And things continued like this, for the next four days. Which was too much and yet too little time all at once. Too long for Scar to suffer from giving away those lives. Too little of him being better.
However, it was the eighth day after they had arrived after giving those years that Scar received another letter. Grian had gotten up to find him sitting at the dining table, waiting for him. With the letter in his hand. He pulled his wings tight against his back as soon as he saw the letter. Careful to keep his talons from clicking against the hard wood floor, even if he didn’t need to. Nearly silently sitting down in the backless chair Scar had pulled out beside him.
Scar handed him the letter and he read through it, dread sinking its claws further into his mind every line, every word he read. By the time he had finished, he had been careful to keep too much emotion from showing in his face. But with how carefully Scar was watching him, he wouldn’t be surprised if Scar could see his worry, see his fear, anyway.
“Do you want to stay behind?” Scar asked in a soft voice, trying to make himself appear small as he looked over at him.
Grian shook his head almost immediately. “No,” he nearly exclaimed. He paused, trying to gather his thoughts to why he felt so strongly against it. He took a deep breath and continued, “I don’t want to not be there. In case something happens.” Scar watched him a moment longer, concern written across his face before he smiled over at him.
“Okay.” And that’s all there was to it. They gathered what they would need for the two-day trip there and back. Scar used his magic to turn the wooden figures back into the carriage and steads they represented and within the hour, they were leaving for their next destination.
~ ¤ ~
The trip to their destination was shorter this time, only being a day's ride away, instead of a day and a half. Meaning that by the time they had arrived, it was already late into the night. The moon hung high in the sky overhead. The mansion, this time, was surrounded by towering spruce trees, hiding any line of sight further than twenty meters away. When they arrived, this mansion looked even more extravagant than the last. Most of it made from calcite and marble, with a flat roof.
Great pillars supported the entrance and windows lined the two stories, with there easily being at least twenty or thirty rooms. Grian still didn’t understand what someone would do with so much space, living on their own or even with a small family. This one had its own large topiary garden, even more carefully tended to. To the point of perfection. With two smaller buildings on either side, one with a roof of dark red crimson wood and the other of dark aqua warped wood. Both woods from the nether, one of the most dangerous places one can find themselves.
Truly showing their wealth. Up along the road, made from a mix of chiseled stone and stone bricks, were four statues of winged beings, their hands held up to their eyes. Loose cloaks draped around their bodies, hiding most of them. (Grian tried not to look too hard at them.) When Scar and Grian stepped out from their carriage this time, they were greeted by a young man who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than he was.
Short hair brushed back so it was slick, not a single hair out of place. No facial hair, and his suit was missing any signs of wrinkles. Tailored perfectly. The taller man watched them, his face polite as he greeted them.
“Master Goodtimes, Mr. Moon. What a pleasure to have you here.”
“Oh, please, the pleasure goes to us for you to let us stay here for the night,” Scar replied, his voice as cool as ever.
“Of course, Master Goodtimes. Please, let me take you to where you will be staying for the night. Our guards will take to your carriage and horses for you,” the butler replied. As if summoned by his words, Grian turned at the sound of people behind him to see someone had come up onto the seat out front, two more guards leading the horses to where they will be staying for the night. He turned back as Scar began to follow the butler, staying just behind him like a shadow. He tried not to notice the way the butler kept his hands folded behind his back, the way he made no noise as he walked through the hallway.
Instead keeping his eyes glued to the floor in front of him, looking but not seeing as he automatically weaved his own hands behind his back. Careful to stay silent as he walked behind Scar, to keep his face carefully blank. To keep his wings pressed against his back, so they didn’t have to see them. It wasn’t anything. It couldn’t be anything. He knew it couldn’t be anything. (And yet every little thing that looked like the perfection that had been driven into him again, and again , and again , made him want to screw his eyes shut and block out the rest of the world.)
So, he kept his gaze glued to the polished marble floor, barely paying attention to the pace of Scar’s footsteps instead. Listening to the click of his cane against the floor every other step.
Tap, tap, click.
Tap, tap, click.
It was the only thing he could hear other than Scar’s and the butler’s small talk and yet it seemed deafening. It had felt like they had walked for miles yet only meters, hours and yet only a few seconds before they came to a stop.
“This is where you will be staying, Master Goodtimes,” the butler told him, gesturing to a closed dark oak door. Grian hadn’t noticed how the walls had transitioned to that rich, polished wood. Scar nodded with a polite smile and went to open the door. Grian silently followed behind.
Tap, click .
“Oh, I’m afraid your room is over there, Mr. Moon,” the butler gestured to the room just across the hall. Only separated by a scant few meters. Grian paused, his ear feather giving the slightest twitch as he resisted pulling his wings into a tight column down his back.
“Of course, I apologize for misunderstanding,” Grian replied, almost on autopilot. The butler shook his head.
“You do not need to apologize, Mr. Moon. But I accept your apology,” they told him. Grian’s eyes flicked over to Scar, to see him watching him with concern. Despite clearly being exhausted. His eyes flicked back to the butler as he bowed.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” The butler turned to leave, but he paused and turned back. “Breakfast will be at eight sharp.” He bowed again. “I’ll see you then.” The two stood and watched as the butler finally left. Still standing there what felt like hours after the butler had finally turned out of their sight. Scar was the first to break the silence.
“I guess I’ll head off to bed then.”
Grian blinked, as if he had been frozen and someone had push go. His gaze jerked as he turned in Scar’s direction.
“Good night birdie,” Scar told him with his favorite lopsided grin. Grian nodded back in turn.
“Good night.” He watched as the man finally opened the door and went into his room, closing it behind him. Grian remained stood there, staring far off down the hallway. Looking, but not truly seeing. He finally shook himself as he came back to attention, and ignoring the way the darkness of the minimally lit mansion closed in around him as he too went to his room. Reasoned that it was simply because of how late it was as he took his stuff off and set it at the edge of his bed. He didn’t bother to change into pajamas as he laid down in the bed.
Laid on his side, one colorful wing pressed against the bed and the other tightly wrapped around him. His gaze turned towards the door. Watching, and waiting. Half expecting at any moment for someone to knock, to call him away. He didn’t know how long he had lay there until exhaustion finally overtook him and his mind succumbed to an uneasy slumber.