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The stone castle, owned by someone named Ymir (according to Jean), was as cold and silent as the grave. The dusty, arched ceilings rose high above stained glass windows, reminiscent of the shattered remnants of churches that the four of them had passed. Mikasa and Eren, in their cat forms, had been twitchy and anxious as they refused to enter. Jean, on the other hand, seemed to be more at home than in the shack he had lived in back in Jinae, as he sprinted down the long entrance hall. Marco warily dragged his feet, unsure if he should be running to catch up with Jean and warn him that something seemed off about the place, or run back out the castle’s doors and stay with Mikasa and Eren. Usually when the demons hung back from a place, it was either very good or very evil , and Marco wasn’t sure which this place was just yet, but he was leaning towards “very very bad”. Either way, Marco could see his breath curling like smoke on the air, and he couldn’t suppress a shiver at how unnaturally cold it was inside, even for the late autumn afternoon.
“Ymir! Averata! Talem maruv schka tet, vel fraah tallu scroulem!” Jean called jovially as he reached the doorway at the far end of the hall, banging loudly on the halfway rotten boards that had apparently once been a set of double doors. Marco furrowed his brows as he hurried to get to Jean’s side. Marco had never heard...Whatever Jean had said, before in his life. There weren’t many different languages in the kingdom, the common language having been decided on so long ago that it was near impossible to find traces of any others that had been woven together to create their words. Demonia and fae did exist, but they were languages exclusively spoken by demons and fairies, respectively. Marco had heard Eren and Mikasa speaking in demonia before, and it didn’t sound like whatever Jean had said. Maybe it was fae? Marco was about to ask, having finally made it to Jean’s side as his echoing words faded, before a loud booming noise sounded from behind the rotten boards, making Marco jump. The boards flew open, allowing entry into an even darker, colder room, that made Marco’s stomach clench in fear. Only when Jean started to scramble through did Marco’s voice squeak out almost unwillingly.
“J-jean, you’re going through there?” He asked, already scrambling a few steps back. Jean turned back to look at him, the dark spots of his eyes somehow lighter than the room behind him (Marco knew for a fact that darkness in Jean’s eyes were blacker than the night sky at its darkest, and the fact that the room behind him was darker...), the bright star-like spots popping even more vividly than usual. Jean looked so relaxed, if a little confused, before he bounded back over to Marco’s side.
“Well, yeah,” He said with a laugh, a crooked grin tugging at the edges of his lips. “My averata is home, and they’ll be very pissed since we’re here and haven’t come to say hi yet,” Jean reached for Marco’s hand as he spoke, and started tugging him towards the darkness, a thumb soothingly rubbing into the back of his hand. Fear gnawed at the back of Marco’s mind, even as he let Jean drag him to the threshold of the wooden boards, eyes darting around and hoping to adjust to the darkness. “You’ll want to stick really close, your eyes won’t adjust quickly enough for the staircase.” Jean said, as if reading Marco’s mind.
“I...I think I’m gonna go wait outside with Eren and Mikasa!” Marco squeaked, digging his heels into the floor, unwilling to move even half an inch forward. Jean looked...Disappointed, but he let Marco go easily. There were a few seconds of silence, broken only by Marco’s stumbling footsteps, as he scrambled backwards, undeniable relief coursing through him at being further away from whatever the hell that was. Jean frowned as he ran a hand through his hair, fingers getting tangled in knots that he hadn’t bothered to brush out for the past few days (even after Marco had offered to do so, which had caused Eren to gag “on a hairball”).
“Since you’re going out there, remind those two that they aren’t allowed to go further than the edge of the clearing until I come back,” Jean said with a sigh as he turned back and calmly walked through the dark, without nearly as much bouncing excitement as he had when running up to the place previously. “Tallu scroulem vra quarlleu et spra.” Jean called quietly into the dark, as he disappeared almost immediately into its shadows. Marco, who was halfway to the front doors, ran as fast as he could back through the doors, only feeling marginally better once the stone walls of the castle were no longer crowding around him. He let himself run almost to the edge of the surrounding forest before flopping gracelessly to the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to suck as much fresh air as physically possible into his straining lungs.
Marco let himself catch his breath, eyes darting around frantically every few seconds to make sure he was safe. Darkness just plain shouldn’t be that dark or inspire that much fear, and no one should be that comfortable with...Whatever the hell that was. Jean was definitely mysterious, what with how he rarely even said anything about his life before arriving in Jinae, but that...Was really fucking weird. Mikasa had apparently wandered over to Marco’s side, watching the entrance to the stone castle out of the corner of her eye. She meowed very quietly as she settled down near Marco’s legs, tipping her head slightly to point out where he and Jean had tied their horse. It had been only one horse, because no matter how much Marco attempted to gently persuade using some of the gold he had taken to purchase a second horse to travel on, Jean insisted on the one horse being more than enough. Which, it did seem to be the case, as they had travelled only two weeks and were far outside of the maps that Marco was familiar with.
Relieved, Marco scrambled to his feet, knowing that his backpack was still on their horse’s saddle and he desperately wanting to curl up in the rough blanket his mother had made him take when he left. Eren was half laying on a low hanging branch, half waiting for gravity to fully affect him and drag him down, watching Marco with lazy eyes as he dragged said blanket from his backpack. Safely as far as Marco could get from the stone castle while still being near Eren and Mikasa, he had absolutely no qualms about hiding underneath the blanket in hopes that it could warm the cold chunk of fear that had solidified in Marco’s chest.
Marco was vaguely aware of voices speaking as his consciousness returned slowly, almost feeling guilty for having nodded off. But then he was more aware that there were voices , and he shook himself awake as fast as possible, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he wiggled his head out from under the blanket. A vague shape that Marco figured was probably Jean, and he recognized Jean’s voice, but the other figure near Jean was much taller than any human he’d seen before. He wondered for a second about where Eren and Mikasa were, before the words that Jean and the giant were speaking turned to the common language, and he could properly eavesdrop.
“It’s like leading a lamb to the slaughter, tallu vors,” The giant said, its voice a surprisingly high pitched, gentle rumble for something so big, one of its large hands reaching down to pat Jean’s shoulder. He shrugged it off and glared at them.
“It’s nothing like that averata, he’s strong. Even if he wasn’t, I’m strong enough to protect him myself.” Jean snapped, kneeling down slightly to twist at the magic in Mikasa’s and Eren’s collars as they twined around his ankles. Mikasa had the decency to at least stand a few steps away while he fiddled with the magic to let her take human form; Eren, on the other hand, stood directly underneath Jean, and there was a lot of scrambling to not end up on Eren’s shoulders as he changed forms. Before Eren and Jean could start snapping at each other for that, Mikasa broke into the conversation.
“He is strong,” She started, holding up a hand to prevent Jean from interrupting her with his desire to gloat. “He is strong for a human. If we were to be going up against humans, it would be fine. But we’re not. He’s not strong enough to fight demons. Knowing Armin, he’s probably amassed an army to try and take you down when you come for him again. You’d have to be stupider than usual to let Marco get anywhere near that battle. You aren’t strong enough to protect him and yourself at the same time.” Mikasa’s voice was flat the entire time she spoke, stating facts as she eyed Marco’s pretending-to-sleep form. She probably noticed the tiny bit that Marco lifted his head when she said his name, but didn’t reveal that he was listening, especially as Eren added in his two cents.
“Marco is good, but he’s human. You’d be wasting his life just like you did with Con-” Eren was cut off with a choking sound, Jean’s hand suddenly wrapped around his throat and obviously squeezing hard. Mikasa attempted to pull Jean’s hand away from Eren’s throat, but Jean shoved her back with his free hand, looking absolutely murderous, the white pinpricks of light from his eyes swallowed up completely. Marco sat up and started to scramble out of his blanket, intent on helping, but Mikasa stepped slightly in front of him, clearly trying to get him to keep out of this.
“I am not wasting anyone’s life,” Jean said coldly as Eren struggled against his grip. “This is not like it was ten years ago. And don’t you dare try to compare Marco to them, as if they were the same. I’m much stronger now, and I will protect him.” Jean let go, Eren falling to his knees, choking gratefully on the air now allowed into his body. Marco had never been afraid of Jean, no matter the stories that Eren and Mikasa told him about the time before Jean had established his place in Jinae, all of which led to the same conclusions: Jean was terribly powerful, and more than willing to show off just how powerful he was if he was in the mood to do so. The giant let out a tsking noise as it shook its head, blasting all four of them with a cold wind from its movements.
“Tallu vors, I have no doubt that you could protect yourself and your demons against what is to come, but a human...He is a liability.” Its head tilted slightly as Marco shivered, partly from cold and partly from indignation. “He is also awake, so you may want to introduce us,” It added. Jean whirled around as Mikasa moved to Eren’s side, checking on the already visible bruises on his neck.
“M-Marco! I thought you were still sleeping!” Jean’s voice squeaked, and even though there was a bit of fear still left over from the conversation he had heard, Marco couldn’t help smiling at him as he shrugged out of the blanket. Jean offered him a hand to pull him up, the hand that had been on Eren’s throat, and Marco took it gladly as he stifled a yawn. “Sorry we woke you up,” Jean apologized, his eyes bright and genuine, almost making Marco think everything he had seen and overheard just before to be part of his imagination. The giant let out a rumbling noise before Marco could wave away Jean’s apologies, gaining both of their attention again.
“Oh! Sorry averata! Marco, this is Ymir, my aver-ah, my guardian,” Jean corrected himself hastily, as if just remembering that Marco didn’t know what ‘averata’ meant. And while Marco was glad to know what at least one of the words Jean was saying meant, it just opened up a whole new level of questions.
“O-oh! Uh, hello!” Marco squeaked, lifting a hand as if to offer a handshake. The giant let out a loud rumble that was probably laughter, but didn’t reach for Marco’s hand. “So, uhm...You raised Jean, then?” Marco asked as he let his hand fall back to his side, correctly assuming that it was probably a bad idea to attempt to shake a freezing giant’s hand.
“Ah, yes,” the giant said fondly, once again patting Jean’s shoulder, “I’ve raised this one since he was...Around the age of five, yes?” They tilted their head as if that would help them remember properly, before shrugging their shoulders. Jean didn’t seem at all concerned about how cold their hand probably was on him, and it sort of made sense to Marco now if he had grown up surrounded by such cold. At this point, Eren wobbled to his feet, glaring at Jean as he rubbed at his throat, with Mikasa helping to steady him, mumbling something that Marco couldn’t hear into Mikasa’s ear that made her roll her eyes.
“You were such a wee little lad, Jeanbo,” Ymir crooned, ruffling Jean’s hair as he ducked away, hissing like an upset cat. “Little bugger just up and wandered in around here, all grimy and disgustin’, mumbling prayers and shit. Couldn’t turn a small thing like that out into these woods. Even with the bears in the area, he wouldn’t have lasted out here. The magic bubbling up in ‘im would’ve done ‘im in like it did the rest o’ his town.” Ymir nodded solemnly as Jean frantically begged for them to stop talking, as Marco’s eyebrows rose higher. Marco had known that something bad must’ve happened to his home town, having heard stories about how Trost had been blown off the map when he was a child...But Ymir was implying that it was Jean’s fault? He wasn’t even old enough to attend school when that had happened! How could a child have destroyed an entire town? Marco was jarred out of his thoughts as Ymir turned and left, a tiny golden light flitting around their shoulders brightly. Jean was staring at him, as Eren and Mikasa wandered away as well, an almost anxious look on his face.
“Ymir can get a bit...Long winded when they meet someone who hasn’t heard all their stories before,” Jean said carefully. Marco shrugged slightly as he bent to fold up the blanket, if only for something to do with his hands, doing his best to ignore the way Jean was just watching him. As if waiting for Marco to run back to Jinae, resigned to being alone with only the demons that were bound to him. And that just made Marco’s heart ache, as he dropped the blanket back into a heap before moving to stand directly in front of Jean, who hadn’t moved an inch.
“You’re looking at me like I’m leaving,” Marco said bluntly, which just made Jean tilt his head a bit, a resigned look on his face as Marco stepped further into his space.
“You aren’t?”
“Of course I’m not.”
“Why? I’d leave if I were you.”
“Because…” Marco hesitated for a second, wondering if their ‘sometimes we kiss and cuddle and hold hands’-thing that had started when they began travelling could handle his ‘I think I fell in love with you a few months before we left Jinae and leaving would absolutely kill me’-feelings. The anxious resignation on Jean’s face slowly melted into a look of surprise, his lips parting slightly on a quiet “oh”, before forcing his attention away from Marco. Which served to remind him that, oh yeah, Jean could read his mind if he focused, which he seemed to have been doing, if the now guilty look on Jean’s face was anything to go by.
“Well,” Marco nervously chuckled, taking a step back and rubbing under his nose, his eyes glued to the ground. “I guess the cat’s outta the bag on that…” Jean frowned at that as he stepped into Marco’s space, looping his arms around the other man’s waist. When Marco refused to meet his eyes, Jean let out an annoyed huff as he tilted his head around until their eyes met again. (Well, Marco at least assumed that Jean was looking at his eyes; as pretty as they were, inky black with tiny white pinpricks that almost glowed, it was hard to tell exactly where Jean was looking most of the time. The weight of Jean’s gaze was a very real, physical thing, and Marco could almost allow himself to relax as he felt that weight settle on him.)
“You are...So precious to me,” Jean murmured, brushing a hand against Marco’s cheek. “May I kiss you?” Jean asked, already leaning up to meet Marco’s mouth, knowing that he could’ve kissed Marco without asking. Marco barely had to tip his head down to meet Jean’s lips, only a little bothered by how dry his own were. Jean didn’t seem to mind at least, humming happily as their lips met, gently encouraging Marco’s to move as his eyes fluttered shut. If Marco wanted to, he could almost imagine Jean being an average person, one who hadn’t traveled further than he ever thought possible, when his eyes were closed. But then again, why would he want to, when his Jean was a gorgeous witch whose powers were strong enough to bind a pair of demons to him? Marco wrapped his arms around Jean’s waist possessively even as Jean sighed and let their kiss trail off into an almost flirty peck as his lips left Marco’s. Jean’s eyes fluttered open as he dragged kisses down the line of Marco’s jaw, eventually leaning his head against Marco’s shoulder, both men reluctant to let the other go.
“Tallem alusk ketep.” Jean mumbled into Marco’s neck. Marco knew he would ask later what that meant, but he was content to just hold Jean to him for now.