Work Text:
"Wait, Parrot, don't you have younger brothers? Three of them?"
"Huh?" Parrot distractedly pulled on his wing to reach the stubborn feather grew that the opposite way it was meant to. "Oh, no. Just two. Flame and Spoke."
Theo blinked. "But what about Wemmbu?"
"…He's my older brother?"
There was a beat.
Then Theo let out a snort, laughing in his face as he held his stomach, tears springing out of his eyes.
Parrot didn't really get what was so funny about that.
Theo continued to laugh, but it began to fade the longer Parrot doesn't take back his words. Theo slowly sat down, his eyes wide behind his sunglasses. "…You're not joking."
"What is there to joke about?" Parrot rolled his eyes. "It's not that hard to believe."
"Can't be that hard to—" Theo sprung up, his wings spreading behind him. "Dude, it's Wemmbu!"
While Parrot knew Theo didn't really mean anything by it, he couldn't help but feel irked at his words. Wemmbu might not be the person people imagine when they think of the words older brother, but he was Parrot's. There was no other who could take his place.
"Let's stop takling about this," Parrot said.
Theo shook his head. "Uh-uh, no way. You drop a bomb on me and expect me not to react to it?"
Parrot smoothed out his feathers before messing it up again when he dug into the skin, scratching to relieve the itch. "It's not that big of a deal."
"For me it is," Theo said. “What’s he like as an older brother? Irresponsible? Immature?”
There were claws on his wings, scratching gently and pulling out dirt and grime, petting every feather. Hair tickled his face—braided, long hair. There was laughter. A peck on his cheek.
Parrot felt a smile pull on his face. His dull nails felt inadequate now that he remembered the faint sensation of his brother's diligent preening.
How long has it been since they've last seen each other? It was only now did he realize that he doesn’t remember how it felt to huddle up under Wemmbu's chin, how it felt to curl up against him until he fit just right in his arms. True safety wasn’t a familiar concept anymore, when back then that was all he ever knew.
Parrot lingered on the feeling of cold, scaly wings against his skin, unafraid even as the thunder rumbled closer and closer, instinctively knowing how untouchable he was as long as his big brother remained by his side.
Just a few seconds more, Parrot wished, let him believe he could be held forever.
Parrot opened his eyes too early. He forced his lips to still, to stop its trembling. Theo waited for him patiently, all traces of his earlier teasing gone, replaced by a quiet knowing.
“He did the best he could.”
-
Flame swore he felt his back crack the moment he hit the tree.
"You're doing it wrong!" Mane barked out. "Your form is horrendous, your stance is weak, where on earth did you learn that!"
Flame groaned. He could barely grip his spear from how tired he was. "From my big brother," he said in defeat, remaining boneless on the ground.
Mane sighed once he realized Flame was too spent get up again. He made his way towards his sweaty body and bent down to sit beside him. There was a bored look on his face, but his tail kept flicking, betraying his curiosity.
"Was he self-taught?" Mane asked but doesn't let him answer. "The way you hold yourself—it's strange.” And familiar, he mouthed when he thought Flame wasn’t looking. “He must have watched other people fight and learned from that. But…"
"I know." Flame finally managed to sit up, tiredly leaning against the tree. He felt a bit nostalgic. Back when he was only a scrawny little kid, his brothers would be jeering at him from the side as he kept getting his ass handed to him. "He just copied the moves and didn't understand how they actually worked."
Mane nodded, lost in thought.
"I built my foundations on what he taught me," Flame said. "I've been trying to break the habit, but it's not that easy, bro. I fought like that for years."
"Still, it's impressive." Mane held his spear up to the sky, the enchants etched into it gleaming under the light. "Spear's a hard weapon to master. The damage you deal depends entirely on your form—how you hold yourself." His tail thumped on the groud, and he smiled with faint awe. "But Flame, you move like a marksman, but your main weapon is a sword. You hit hard with an axe, and you throw the spear like it's a trident. You're telling me that brother of yours taught you all that?"
"Well, I won't say all of it," Flame muttered petulantly. "But mostly, yeah."
"You'll have to introduce me," Mane said. "If you're this strong even with your trashy foundations, I wonder how well he turned out."
Flame frowned at him in confusion. "You've already met, though?"
"No?" Mane started to frown too. "Are you tripping?"
Flame crossed his arms, unimpressed. "You're telling me you don't know Wemmbu?"
A complicated expression passed through Mane's face. Flame felt a tug in his gut, an uneasy feeling that made his ears flatten against his scalp. He couldn't explain why, but for a moment there, he really considered swinging at Mane until all his teeth fell out of his mouth.
"What does Wemmbu have to do with this?" Mane asked quietly.
"He's my big bro," Flame said. "I thought you knew."
Mane shook his head, the ends of his blindfold swaying with the movement. His blond locs fell from his shoulders, as long as Wemmbu's obnoxious purple hair.
There was a pang of longing, which Flame mercilessly pushed down. It's been months since they last talked. Years since they could exist together without one of them storming out of the room in petty anger.
Flame brought a hand up to his hair, tugging on a braid that hasn't been undone since it was last made. Then he touched his necklace, fingers following the string until it reached a chipped piece of bedrock, then two feathers, one pure white and the other a seamless shade of vivid blue and green. He lingered on those three things for a moment, his mouth perked up at the corners.
His thumb brushed against a dragon scale.
Flame stood up abruptly, ignoring the sting behind his eyes.
He swung his spear towards Mane who met it with a grunt, their tails lashing out with the same movement, and Flame pushed away the bitter thoughts that had him wishing his big brother was the one in front of him instead, matching his every strike, overwhelming him with praise and endless hugs like he did the first time he won a spar against him.
Flame grit his teeth and struck harder.
-
"Spoke."
"In a moment."
"Spoke!"
The transparent stone fizzled back into opaqueness.
"Mapicc!" Spoke admonished angrily. While he had promised many he'd stop abusing the glitches he found, times like these were the exception. "I just caught sight of those diamonds, you distracted me!"
Something was shoved to his face. Spoke spluttered as it hit him, backing away and squinting to see it better.
It was Wemmbu. To be more specific, it was a photo of Wemmbu and him, crouched on the edge of a floating piece of bedrock. Egg's wings blocked most of the scene, but Spoke could clearly see the horror on Wemmbu's face as he held a cackling Spoke by the back of his shirt.
The memories rushed through him without warning.
Spoke was five years old, giddy after he managed to escape Parrot while he was distracted by Flame bringing a sword inside the house. He had run after an oblivious Wemmbu, following him and Egg as they made their way to the caves.
He remembered being so smug, giggling under his breath every time he hid in the shadows whenever Wemmbu would look back, suspicious. They had made it all the way down when Spoke discovered the most peculiar thing.
Neither Wemmbu nor Egg could break bedrock.
But somehow, Spoke can.
"Wasn't this the guy who destroyed our base?" Mapicc asked, pulling the photo away from Spoke to look at it himself. "Looks like you two go way back."
"Yeah," Spoke whispered with a croak. He rubbed the faint scar on his arm, cut by Wemmbu's claws when he pulled him up from the Void. That was the first time he'd seen Wemmbu so angry. He remembered how scared he was as his big brother yelled at him, scolding him for reasons he couldn't understand.
Wemmbu had paused once he saw the tears, guiltily looking at Egg who shot him a disappointed look. Spoke was sobbing too hard to register Wemmbu's arms around him, holding him securely against his chest as he jumped over the empty Void and carried him back home.
"You okay?" Mapicc set the photo down and leaned against him, his tail curling around his wrist. "Wanna talk about it?"
Spoke picked the photo back up, his thumb brushing against Wemmbu's face. He shook his head.
Mapicc stayed by his side until the sun began to set, until the sky turned purple.
-
"Do you think they're doing okay?"
Egg draped a wing around him, pulling him closer until they sat shoulder to shoulder. "Stop being a worry-wart," he said. "If something was really wrong, they'd come to you in a heartbeat."
Wemmbu grumbled, hugging his knees to his chest. "Not anymore. Apparently, they're all big boys now. They don't need me anymore."
Egg only bumped their knees together and doesn't tell him about all the times Flame pulled him aside to subtly ask if Wemmbu was being bothered by anyone so he could go and take care of them for him.
He doesn't tell him about Spoke's sporiadic visits, how Egg pretended not to notice him as he snuck around the house enchanting their armor until it was nigh impenetrable.
He doesn't tell him about the way Parrot always lights up whenever he saw him, only to sulk when he realizes Wemmbu wasn't there as well.
Egg figured he should be at least a little bit insulted by the blatant favoritism, but well, it's not like he was the one who changed their diapers when they were little. Wemmbu should get a few special privileges just for that, especially when he himself barely knew how to wipe his own butt when Parrot first came along.
"When did they get so big?" Wemmbu asked softly.
When did we?
"I don't know, Wem," is what Egg said instead. Just seconds ago, they were two stupid little brats who climbed the tallest trees just to see how far the scenery stretched. They were grown now, and they knew the world was endless. "I'm happy they did though. Aren't you?"
Wemmbu's wings were limp behind him, his tail curling around his legs. "No," he admitted. "I wish they stayed my kids forever."
Egg doesn't call him out on his words. Vulnerability was a rare thing between them, and he didn't want to ruin the moment just for a quick tease.
"But at the same time," Wemmbu continued fondly, "it would be a real shame if I never got the chance to know them as well as I do now."