Work Text:
"Hang in there; you're going to be okay."
Flora said it the way she said most small spells, with calm, self-assured certainty of someone who had never erred. She stroked the little bird's feathers gently, not daring to smile, lest Brie take offense.
On her lap, the little finch was curled up into a ball of utter misery, one wing dramatically pressed against her stomach. She chirped, upset and unconvinced that the pain would ever go away.
Around them, the kitchen smelled faintly of autumn. The air was warm, filled with the sweet scent of apples and cinnamon rising from the baking tray cooling on the stove. On the table, a mug of lukewarm lemon balm tea stood forgotten, with only its lingering citrusy fragrance as a gentle reminder of its existence. Beneath it all was the smell of damp soil, which could easily be traced back to the basket of mushrooms, which they had picked together a day earlier.
"Yes, I know," Flora sighed. "The worst day of your life."
This, Brie could agree with. She let out a small, tragic tweet.
"I'm sorry," the young woman apologized, as though it was her fault, eyeing the real culprit of Brie's current suffering. The offender lay still on the floor, gleaming golden in the late afternoon sunlight, awaiting judgement. In any other scenario, Flora would have rejoiced over coming in possession of an acorn from the Sacred Woods, but never at the cost of someone's suffering though.
How a silly bird like Brie even managed to come across the treasure was even bigger a mystery than why she had tried to eat it.
The little bird followed Flora's gaze, shuddering when she saw the acorn.
It looked harmless enough now.
It hadn't, earlier.
Brie had gone on an adventure earlier. There was nothing unusual about it; all Finchie birds were all born with innate curiosity about the world and daring spirits. If there was one thing they had in common, it was the love for going on adventures.
As such, Brie didn't consider herself reckless. So even though it might have seemed that she was flying aimlessly around the Finchie Forest, Brie had a clear idea of what she was doing. There was always something to discover. And the best way to discover things was to come across them spontaneously. That was Brie's brilliant reasoning.
Brie's adventure had taken her far from home, but not so far she wouldn't make it back for dinner. In fact, it was dinner that Brie had been thinking about, when a dark shadow passed overhead. She glanced up to see a large black riding the wind, wings spread wide, its ink-colored feathers catching the light in fleeting blue. Its head was tilted and there was something in its beak. Something that looked an awful lot like a snack.
Brie narrowed her eyes, thinking. Crows didn't carry things for no reason, so logic dictated that if it had one, there had to be more. Hidden, maybe. Saved for later.
Brie lowered her gaze. That meant the ground.
She circled back, studying the foliage like an expert. At first, everything looked the same: leaves, twigs, a dirt path with its bumps and hollows. And then she spotted it.
A patch where the leaves didn't quite lie flat.
It was barely visible, with only a small crack in the pattern indicating that something had been pushed aside and then covered again.
Brie landed, careful not to topple over when her feet touched the ground. She crouched and nudged the leaves aside. They shifted too easily, the soil underneath giving way, as she scraped the earth. Soon, she hit gold.
She worked carefully, following the shape of disturbance. She cleared the soil away, uncovering the hidden item bit by bit until it came to light. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, considering how important it had looked. It was smooth along the bottom and on top, it seemed to wear a hat. That's what made Brie like it even more — Flora had a variety of hats for every occasion, including one for a panic attack she would have later, and it excited Brie even more to share her find with her human.
The treasure was clearly too precious to be carried in beak, so Brie held it carefully with her wings, as she made her way back. It took a lot of effort to keep it balanced. Every so often, she stopped to adjust her grip, before hopping on. It was slower than flying, but also safer.
Brie didn't feel like a thief (the forest was fair game to everyone!) but she didn't want to risk angering the crow in case they happened to be another witch's familiar. Flora had been adamant about keeping a low profile.
So even though it was difficult, Brie kept going. She trudged on, tail flicking lightly for balance, unafraid of any beast she might encounter. As far as she was concerned, beasts were creatures of fairytales, for none dared enter Finchie Forest with bad intentions.
Brie arrived back at her and Flora's dwelling at the same time as the girl.
Flora often spent her days away from home at a place she called "work". Some days, she went early, other days, late, and every seven weeks, just as Brie had gotten used to her comings and goings, the schedule changed like clockwork.
This was one of the days when she returned relatively early. She threw her bag on the floor, walked a few steps and slumped on the hard wooden chair at the kitchen table, closing her eyes even before her butt landed. She looked as tired as Brie felt.
Letting go of her treasure for a bit, Brie fluttered upwards, joining Flora at the table. The woman opened an eye and peeked at Brie, who chirped "How was your day?" as soon as she was close enough to be heard.
"As good as ever," Flora replied, shutting her eyes again. She seemed far away with her thoughts, lost in another world, if only for a moment longer. When she opened her eyes again, she offered Brie a smile. "I'm thinking some tea and cookies are in order."
Brie lit up at the mention of cookies. She took flight and circled the room with glee, her exhaustion forgotten, as Flora stood up and grabbed a kettle. She filled it without a single unnecessary movement, then placed it on the stove before investigating the cupboards, looking for cookies.
"Looks like we're out," she frowned, as Brie swooped past, the rush of air from the bird's wingflaps tickling her neck. "But if you don't mind waiting a little, I could make something else."
Brie chirped with approval, so after Flora had poured some hot water over the teabag in her mug, she helped her human take out ingredients and get started. A lot of the work was too hard for a little bird like Brie, which she graciously decided to leave to Flora.
Brie really meant it when she said she didn't mind. But as time passed, so did her hunger. By the time the soft-baked cinnamon rolls went into the oven, it had grown unbearable and all Brie could think of were snacks.
That's when she remembered her forest find. She plopped down on the floor and picked it up with her beak. It was heavier than she remembered.
Brie turned it once, adjusting her grip. The reasonable part of her brain told her to consult with Flora about the item's edibility. That part of her brain was overridden by logic that if it wasn't food, it wouldn't be food-shaped. Her stomach made a compelling argument as well.
She bit down. For a fraction of a second, nothing happened. Then, a sharp crack snapped through the kitchen and the taste flooded her mouth. Her beautiful treasure was bitter and dry on the inside.
Brie pulled back abruptly, but didn't spit it out. Spitting it out would have meant admitting a mistake had been made. Brie never made mistakes.
Instead, she fluffed up her feathers and swallowed.
A faint pressure settled low in her stomach.
She shifted, trying to logic her way out of the weird feeling. Surely it was just an adjustment period. Everything was fine.
Flora always said that some foods take time getting used to. She nodded to herself, thinking "This is probably it."
Not far from Brie, Flora stirred her tea, spoon tapping softly against the mug. She didn't look towards the bird immediately, savoring her own little hunger repellant.
"Brie," she spoke between sips. "What did you break?"
There was no anger in her voice, no upset. She was asking for information, not throwing around blame. Still, Brie did not want to admit to her mistake lapse in judgement.
"Nothing," she chirped a little too quickly. That finally made Flora look up.
Brie shivered under the Look she gave her.
Flora noticed immediately that something was wrong with her beloved companion. The little finch was just a bit too still, her feathers ruffled, but it was truly her face that gave her away. She had the face of someone trying to think through the discomfort instead of feeling it, her beak pressed into a tight line and eyes slightly wider than usual.
"Brie…" Flora said softly, standing up. She walked over to Brie and squatted down, holding out her hands so that the finch could hop on if she so desired.
Brie hesitated. She glanced at Flora's hands, then at her face. Then at the forest treasure. Then, a soft, startled sound escaped her, more confused than anything.
She didn't pull away when the woman's hands came around her.
Flora lifted her up and carried her to the table.
"Don't worry, love, I'll get to the bottom of this."