Work Text:
“Here’s the thing,” says Gwydd, preening one white wing. “You’re gonna say ‘oh, it’s a dumb legend, no one’s gonna believe a goose will take them to their soulmate.’ But think about it, really think about how many dumb things humans believe. Right?”
“Satan knows that’s the truth.” The snake demon, whose name Gwydd didn’t catch, flickers his tongue out at the wine he’d brought and grimaces. Gwydd was already pretty sure that tavern doctored their wine, but this clinches it. “How do you even know?”
“That part I don’t get,” Gwydd admits. “S’like a latch goes click in my head and I just know.”
“You ever pair off people already married to someone else?” the demon asks. “I’m not saying you ssshould, just. Askin’ for professional curiosity, like.”
“It happens,” Gwydd says warily. “Not as often as you might think, though. People with real proper soulmates, they have a way of staying single. Like they know they should wait. And if they do turn out to be married, well — not my business, is it?”
“Sure, yeah, that’s their lookout,” the demon says, looking a little guilty, if that’s a thing demons can even do. He flicks the wine bottle with two fingers, sniffs it again, and then drinks. “Better.”
Gwydd settles next to him under the tree and pulls his neck in. Supernatural or no, he’s still primarily a goose, and it’s not often any other powers in the world pay him any mind. Kind of nice, someone taking an interest in his work. Of course Gwydd’s not fool enough to try to lead him to his soulmate — being cordial with a demon is one thing, prolonged engagement is quite another — but he wonders if maybe he ought to tell him he has one.
Best not. He probably already knows, anyway.