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Grian flinches as an arrow wizzes past him, clipping his shoulder. He scrambles against the slanted tiles as he runs across the roof, the hunters unfaltering in their pursuit. He manages to dodge the following arrows, but not by much.
Being on a roof gives him an advantage in trying to lose them, but Grian has definitely underestimated just how much they wanted his kind extinct. It probably shouldn’t shock him since they already took out the rest of his family, but he never expected them to chase him down to this extent.
He manages to get out of view, but he knows they won’t stop chasing. Thankfully Grian reaches the end of the town soon after, spotting a forest nearby. He wastes no time in flying down and speeding towards the forest. There are shouts as the hunters notice him, which only encourages Grian to run faster.
It’s hard to not trip as Grian runs through the forest, far from the path. The ground is uneven and there are roots everywhere, but it’s the only way he can escape. While the trees are too tightly packed for him to fly, Grian is able to flap his wings every so often to lift himself off the ground to avoid some of the rough terrain.
As Grian runs he can hear the shouting slowly fading and soon falling completely silent. He doesn’t stop, not able to until he’s sure they won’t find him. In his haste he nearly runs into the ropes strung across trees.
Grian catches himself before he can fall, staring at the ropes in confusion, before glancing to the wooden signs hammered into the trees. They’re danger warnings, telling anyone here to turn around, that there’s a monster further in.
He doesn’t hesitate to duck under the ropes and resume his fast pace. There’s no monster that can be worse then the hunters he’s running from, hopefully they won’t think he’d travel past those ropes and go elsewhere. Besides, humans deem him a monster as well, whoever lives here could probably be an ally to him.
All of Grian’s thoughts come to a screeching halt as he comes across a statue. It’s of a human. He circles around to look at their face, seeing their eyes opened wide, fear and shock filling their expression.
There’s not a doubt on Grian’s mind that this statue used to be a living person. As a statue himself, it’s easy to tell the different between a regular statue and a living one. Although, this one certainly isn’t alive anymore. Humans can’t survive being turned into stone, not like a gargoyle can.
It makes him apprehensive for what being lives here, what has the power to do this? Grian shakes it off and continues deeper, it doesn’t matter. These are even more of a deterrent for anyone to come further in, promising more safety to Grian.
Sure this being is powerful, but Grian is already a statue, what could they possibly do to him?
The further Grian travels, the more statues he sees. Some look afraid, others seem to be hunters who are frozen with a determined and angry expression. Ones full of hate. He feels no mercy. Hopefully the hunters chasing him would lose their nerves at this if they had the guts to trail him that far.
Eventually the trees break away into a large clearing. At the center lies a small cabin, which is surrounded by hedges and statues. If you don’t take the many dead humans into consideration, the garden is rather pretty.
While Grian believes that the person who lives here is more friend then foe, he’s glad that it seems like they’re fast asleep. The windows in the cabin dark and no smoke rises from the chimney. He’s way too exhausted and injured to talk to another person and explain himself.
Grian takes flight and lands onto the edge of the chimney. It’s not the best perch he’s had, but it’s at least something. He crouches down and digs his talons into the stone rim, letting himself fully shift back into his gargoyle form.
He can’t bring himself to be worried about the resident here, there’s not much of a reason for them to look up here. Regardless, Grian has little choice seeing as being in this form is the best way for him to rest and recover.
The moment he’s fully shifted he relaxes, feeling the sting of all of his injuries dull. They won’t all be healed by the morning, but they should hurt a lot less. Thankfully, they should all be healed within a few days.
It doesn’t take him long before he falls asleep.
~ ~ ~
Grian wakes up to the sound of someone humming, so he carefully opens his eyes to look down at the person below him. The person seems to be gathering something from one of the chests along the wall. Of course Grian barely registers that considering the person has snakes instead of hair.
That only proves that Grian’s decision to come here was smart, they’re both exiles in their own right. It’s always safer to have an ally, although it seems like they’re doing fine on their own.
With Grian mostly certain his presence won’t be rejected, he shifts back into his flesh form. The cracking and crumbling of his stone body breaking away is loud in the quiet clearing, unable to hide.
The other person jolts, yelping loudly as they whirl around. They look up, but almost immediately look away again. “Ah! Well hello there! When did you get here?”
“Last night,” Grian replies, tilting his head curiously. He jumps down from the roof, spreading out his wings to catch his fall. While the firmly avoiding eye contact behavior is strange, Grian probably shouldn’t call him out on it, it’d be rude since they just met.
“Figured I’d be safer here then where all the humans are,” Grian explains, needing to at least let the other know he might bring trouble. While he does prefer being on high perches, it’s too dangerous for him to continue to do that now. “If you don’t want me here I understand, I don’t want to bring you more trouble.”
The other being shifts, clearly nervous, although for what Grian doesn’t understand. “It’s not that I want to kick you out,” he says slowly, “but it’d be safer if you do.”
“‘Safer?’” Grian echoes, baffled. He’d rather not pick a fight, but it’s such a wild thing to say. “What’s so dangerous about this place?”
He inhales slowly, rocking back on his feet, seeming very reluctant to talk about this, “It’s not this place that’s dangerous.”
“Then what is?”
“I… am cursed, and it’s not something I can control.”
“What kind of curse could you have that would make you dangerous?” Grian asks, now intrigued. He’s not too experienced with curses, so he can’t help but be curious. He tilts his head, “Does it have something to do with you avoiding eye contact?”
Grian is tempted to try to force eye contact, but that’s a bit too rude of something to do after just meeting someone. Well, currently at least. He might try it if the curiosity gets too strong.
They don’t reply for several seconds, but eventually deflate. “Yeah, it does.” They do a vague gesture around them.
Grian glances around, “The statues?” They nod and Grian frowns, “They became statues because you made eye contact with them?”
It sounds completely unreal, but they give a single, terse, nod, so Grian can’t really doubt it. However it does stoke the curious button pusher inside of him, to see just what happens if they make eye contact.
Living gargoyles aren’t statues, not completely, but they’re pretty darn close. What can a curse do to him when it’s supposed to turn to stone? Grian already spends half of his time being made of stone.
“Well, that’s not a problem for me.” Unable to resist his button pusher side now, Grian dashes around them.
They startle at his movements, managing to turn around with a startled noise, “What are you doing!?”
Grian, ever persistent, keeps circling them, “C’mon, I’ll be fine, you can look at me.
For someone who’s covering their eyes, they do a remarkable job keeping Grian out of sight. “You don’t know that!”
“Pretty sure I do!”
It doesn’t take long for their lack of sight to hinder them, foot catching on the uneven ground and making them stumble. With that opportunity, Grian dashes forwards and grabs onto their wrists, pulling firmly, but gently, away from their face.
The other creature startles at the eye contact, jolting back as their eyes widen. They duck their head, but it was too late. Grian feels a shiver go down his spine as a foreign magic invades him, trying to force him to shift forms. It’s easy to resist and shake it off.
“See?” Grian says, stepping back, “I’m fine.”
They slowly look up again, shocked, “How…?”
Grian shrugs, “I’m a gargoyle, I’m already made of stone.”
“Oh,” they whisper, voice faint.
“Any other reasons I should go?” He holds out his hand, “Name’s Grian, by the way.”
They stare at his hand blankly for a moment before reaching out a hand to shake it, “Scar. I wouldn’t mind the company, but I don’t have a place for you to stay.”
Grian shrugs, “Your chimney was pretty comfortable.”
Scar stares at him blankly, looking shocked for a whole different reason now, “What?”
“I like perching on high places.”
Scar looks up on his roof, “I… see.” He looks down again, although to the side instead of directly at Grian, “You on the run?”
Grian grimaces, but nods, “Yeah, I just got chased out of my last residence. Came here hoping to find a way to escape attention.”
Scar lets out a startled laugh, facing him fully again, “I’m not sure this was the best place to come to avoid attention.”
That’s definitely fair, monster hunters would be under no illusion of who lives here. “I suppose not, but getting rid of the hunters I currently had was more important then.”
Scar nods, then frowns as he studies him, “Are you hurt?”
“A little roughed up, but I’ll be fine in a few nights. I heal pretty quickly when shifted.”
There’s a pause before Scar cautiously asks, “What do you look like when shifted?”
Unable to not be perching, Grian takes flight to land on the edge of Scar’s roof. He crouches down, letting his fingers curl under the lip. Even if he was just in his gargoyle form minutes ago, Grian can feel a soothing wave wash over him as his flesh turns to stone.
Grian watches Scar as he shifts, seeing a mix of awe and panic in his gaze. It makes him wonder what it looks like, how his transformation differs to those under the curse. His stone is a darker gray, and Grian’s features turn more monstrous, but he isn’t sure what else would be different.
He doesn’t let the transformation linger, shifting back moments after it finishes. Grian stretches out his wings fully, more so going through the process of shaking them out then actually needing it. All of his joints feel a bit stiff when waking up, being stone for so long having a strange effect on them, so it’s habit to stretch out afterwards.
Grian’s wings and tail take a brunt of it, since they always remaining stone. The shift between being completely stiff and being able to move them as if they were flesh still has that slight buffer, although it’s not as bad.
Shaking off the rest of that habit, Grian jumps back off the roof, “So?”
Scar snaps out of a daze, seeming frazzled with a red-tinted face, “Oh, wow.”
Grian shrinks back slightly, nervous, “Was it bad?” He then realizes his own curiousness, “Was it like your curse?” Scar is still clearly in that mindset with how he keeps avoiding eye contact, so maybe seeing Grian transform just reignited that worry.
“No!” Scar exclaims, hurriedly, “that’s not it!” His blush darkens and he looks away, “I just have never seen anything like this before.”
Grian frowns as he studies Scar, his reaction apparently wasn’t negative, but Grian isn’t sure what his reaction is supposed to be. Just because it wasn’t bad doesn’t mean it was good.
Scar shifts and glances back, “How do your wings work?”
Grian shrugs, “They just do.” He extends one forwards towards Scar, “Want to feel?”
“Are you certain?” Scar asks quietly. At Grian’s nod he steps closer, carefully reaching out to grab his wing. He trails his fingers along the inside, across the stone membrane.
Grian can’t help but shiver at the touch, wing twitching towards it. They’re the most sensitive part of his being, and letting Scar touch them is a risk, but Grian feels like he could trust the other creature. That trust is certainly proven with how gently Scar his holding his wing, looking awed.
“This is incredible,” Scar whispers as he cautiously moves it, extending it further outwards.
Grian can’t help but blush at the compliment, ducking his head slightly. He’s spent so much time alone and hated that he never expected to see anyone say anything positive to him. “Not really,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
Scar shakes his head, “They’re made of stone yet they’re so flexible.”
The attention becoming too much, Grian quickly blurts out the first thing he can think of, “Well, you have snakes for hair, so how does that work?” It’s a little disconcerting, the way some are staring at him.
That makes Scar pause, blinking at him. Then he laugh, letting go of Grian’s wing, “I suppose you make a point there.”
“No, really,” Grian continues, “do they need to eat? Are they like actual snakes or can you control them.”
Scar makes a so-so gesture, “I can kinda control them, but they tend to have a mind of their own. No they don’t need to eat.”
That still sounds completely wild to Grian, and it makes him realize that he has such little knowledge about the other creatures in this world. Maybe he should have abandoned human civilization a long time ago.
It’s much too late to dwell on it, all Grian can do now is continue down this path. “Since I’m kinda invading, do you need my help with anything?”
“I wouldn’t say you’re invading,” Scar counters, “but I was just going to take care of the garden if you don’t mind helping.”
Grian smiles, “Of course, it’s the least I can do!”
Scar smiles back and nods, “Great! Let me just grab a few things first.” He doesn’t waste much time before returning to the chests and collecting a few things.
With everything collected, Scar beckons Grian to follow him as he quickly travels towards the garden. Once there, Grian listens with rapt attention as Scar explains how to recognize and remove weeds, not wanting to mess things up already.
It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm with him, both of them working in companionable silence. It’s much harder work then Grian is used to, especially since it’s with something he understands nothing of, but he feels the need to give something back to Scar for letting him stay here.
By the time they’ve gone through the whole garden, it’s gotten pretty late in the day. As Scar stands up, brushing his hands along his pants to shake the dirt off, he studies Grian quizzically, “Do you have a preference on what you eat?”
Grian blinks back, caught off guard, before realizing that most people eat actual food. “Ah, I don’t need to eat any food.”
That gets Scar’s gaze to shift to make direct eye contact, although with a lot of hesitation still, “You… don’t?”
Grian shakes his head, “Nope. I’m still mostly made of stone.”
The longer he stares the more confused Scar seems, “I… have no idea how to process that.” Understanding failing him, Scar haltingly changes points, “Do you want to join me inside regardless?”
While preferring being outside, he can’t help but be curious about what Scar’s home is like. He nods, “Yeah, sounds great.”
Scar grins, “Come on then!”
Grian quickly follows after him, unable to not be curious. He knows that most people eat food, but he doesn’t know the specifics of it, especially in such an isolated area.
As he enters the cabin he takes a moment to look around, it seems mostly barren, only filled with necessities. There is a distinct difference here then the places Grian used to live near. Which is obvious since Scar wouldn’t have access to electricity or anything that uses it.
Everything out here Scar has had to do on his own, nothing available for him to use or get. Grian looks around again under this mindset. There’s a clear handcrafted look to it all, but nothing seems to be in bad quality.
“You can have a seat at the table, I’ll just make something quickly,” Scar says, gesturing to the table nearby.
Grian takes a seat, running his hand across the surface of the table, admiring the smooth feeling of it. He then looks at the other chair, unable to resist blurting out, “Why do you have two chairs?” The moment he processes the words he winces, realizing how insensitive that sounded.
Thankfully, Scar doesn’t seem offended, “I had the materials for it and figured I should make it for when the other breaks.”
“Ah,” Grian murmurs, “that makes sense.”
Things fall silent after that, and a sudden air of awkwardness washes over them. It isn’t like back in the garden where the quiet was calming, it’s something vaguely tense now.
Grian goes to break it, but pauses when he doesn’t know what to talk about. Up until now, there had been something relevant going on to talk about, which now leaves them with just their social skills to rely on.
Of course, Grian sucks at that. It has been a long time since he’s spoken to someone at length, even longer since he’s spoken to someone who isn’t family.
It makes him hate the silence even more, he wants to talk to Scar. To speak to someone else who understands him after this long, but the words struggle to come to him.
At least with the way the silence continues, it’s clear that Scar is equally bad at this, which is some comfort. It definitely doesn’t help the awkwardness still.
Grian doesn’t know much about eating etiquette, but he feels like him sitting here not eating is only adding to the awkwardness. He does his best not to stare at Scar as he eats, but his curiosity keeps tugging at him.
The longer it stretches the more tense the air gets, feeling like it’s winding up tighter each passing second. Until it finally snaps with Scar’s inhale, “You came from town, right?” He sounds awkward as he says it, like it’s the first thing he thought of.
The question brings back sharp memories, but they’re hardly the worst he has, “Lastly yeah, I traveled around a lot of cities prior though. The increase in hunters has forced me to migrate further and further away from populated spaces.”
“I suppose that answers how you ended up here.”
Grian hums, “Yeah, the town nearby is pretty small, I was mainly using it as a place to rest before trying to find a new home. Hunters found me first, unfortunately.” He studies Scar for a moment, “Or maybe fortunately?”
Scar looks up at him, shocked, “Huh?”
At the attention, Grian glances away again, “I’ve just been alone for so long, having some company again is nice.”
Scar doesn’t reply verbally, instead reaching out a hand, which Grian takes after a moment. It feels warm, although rough from the numerous callouses and scars. Scar squeezes his hand lightly, careful to not prick his hand with his claws. The sentiment is appreciated, even if Grian would likely be fine.
“Sorry,” Grian whispers after a silent minute, “didn’t mean to dampen the mood.” Despite that, he doesn’t let go.
“Nah,” Scar says easily, smiling down at him, “you didn’t. Don’t just push away your pain like that; if you need the feel it, go ahead and feel it.”
That nearly cracks Grian’s dam open, but he manages to hold back when an important thought hits him, “What about you?”
“Me?” Scar asks, sounding confused.
Grian nods, confident now, “You don’t need to hide your emotions either.”
Scar ducks his head, red dusting his cheeks, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” It’s no where near an immediate fix, but a door has been opened. Grian doubts he’ll be able to share everything he went through for a while, but having the option to means more then enough.
~ ~ ~
For the first time Grian wakes up slowly, not worried about what he’d have to face. He lets himself slowly stretch out, letting his wings expand to their full length as he stands up.
He doesn’t immediately notice Scar anywhere around him, so he takes his time with the switch. It’s something that Grian is supposed to do when changing forms, making sure he has no leftover stiff joints, but he hasn’t had the ability to full stretch out in a long time.
Just as Grian is finishing, he spots Scar entering the clearing. He immediately flushes as he realizes that Scar is shirtless. There’s a stack of variously sized logs and branches in his arms.
Grian’s momentarily confused, but soon remembers Scar mentioned a fallen tree yesterday that he wanted to break apart for the wood. It makes Grian wonder if that’s the only way Scar gets wood out here.
The moment Scar notices Grian he perks up, grinning even if he’s gaze is averted, “Good morning!”
“Morning,” Grian echoes, jumping off of the roof. He gives a single flap of his wings to break his fall, landing just in front of Scar.
The gorgon startles at his sudden drop, but keeps his gaze tilted away. “I was out gathering wood, if you wanted to join me.”
Immediately, Grian nods, “Sure!” He pauses as he watches Scar drop the wood into a chest, before carefully adding, “You know you can look at me, right?”
Scar stiffens, but slowly turns to face Grian a moment later, “Sorry, it’s instinctual.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he quickly reassures, “I get it.”
Scar smiles, “Thanks.” After a moment he looks away, gesturing for Grian to follow as he heads back into the woods, “The fallen tree isn’t too far away.”
“Why are you shirtless,” Grian blurts out before he can help himself.
“It’s warm out?” Scar answers questioningly, “and manual labor makes it warmer?”
Grian doesn’t have a rebuttal for that, he isn’t even sure why he brought it up to begin with. He lets the silence linger, partly to make sure he doesn’t blurt out something else.
Thankfully they reach their destination not long later, a fallen tree struck down by some kind of misfortune. There’s an axe imbedded into the middle of it.
Scar goes over and pries the axe out and holds it loosely in his hands. “Do you want to gather all of the loose branches while I continue working on this?” he asks, gesturing at the trunk with the axe.
“Yeah,” Grian easily agrees, having no idea how to even wield an axe. There’s plenty of other logs and branches around, presumably from Scar’s previous visits here.
This is the last thing Grian was expecting when he found himself here, being assigned different physical tasks each day. He can’t find himself bothered by it, it gives him something to do at least so he isn’t left to dwell on what he’s lost.
Not to mention that it’s fair of him to help out, Scar’s letting him stay here after all. Sure it’s more work then he’s done in a long time, but he owes it to Scar to help out.
Traveling back and forth is pretty easy all things considered, his wings helping him glide most of the distance. The most difficult part of it is making sure he doesn’t drop anything, it’s a way more awkward to carry a lot of differently shaped branches then he was expecting.
Time seems to fly by as Grian gets lost in the motions, leaving him unaware just how long has past when he stops. He pauses as he scans the area, seeing the lack of anything new to grab. Grian glances at Scar and barely suppresses the strangled noise he makes.
Scar is fully focused on splitting the trunk in half, since it’s clearly taking a lot of effort to do so. However Grian doesn’t notice, too busy distracted by how sweaty it’s made Scar. The way the light filters past the leaves makes his abs shine.
Grian swallows but quickly shakes his head, pushing aside those thoughts before they can fully form. He clears his throat, managing to keep his voice even when he speaks, “I think I’ve cleared everything around here?”
Scar pauses, leaving the axe imbedded as he looks around, “Oh wow, you have.” He looks upwards and frowns slightly, “How long have we been here?”
“A while?” Grian says, unsure himself.
Scar glances down at the log and sighs, his snakes letting out a quiet hiss at the same time, “I suppose I don’t need all of this done right away.”
Grian lets out a quiet hum, going up and giving it a solid kick. It’s definitely very sturdy. “How long has this been here?”
“Some weeks now, think a storm took it down. Nice to have to wood, although it’s not needed now.”
“Does it get cold in the winter?”
Scar huffs out a laugh, although it sounds more like a sigh, “Like ice. No matter how hard I tried, insulating the cabin never worked.”
Grian grimaces, he may not be effected by the cold as much, but he can sympathize. “I wish I knew of a way to help with that.”
He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I’ve handled it thus far.” Scar yanks the axe out, “Let’s head back, yeah?”
“Yeah.” As they walk, Grian thinks about what Scar had said, about what he said yesterday as well. “So… you built that cabin?”
Scar nods, “Yeah. I found this clearing when I wanted to hide out and slowly worked on building this place up.”
“Well it looks incredible.”
He grins, “Really? I put in so much work but some things just always seem off.”
“It’s impressive that you’ve managed to do all of this all by yourself,” Grian continues, unable to not give Scar the compliments he deserves. Then his words register and he adds more quietly, “I’m sorry you had to do this all by yourself.”
Scar hums quietly, grabbing Grian’s hand for a quick squeeze, “The isolation wasn’t all bad, being by myself was nice for a lot of reasons.”
“Yeah, I can get that.” There had been moments where Grian had wanted some time alone when surrounded by the chaos of his family. He regrets those thoughts now, regrets how he now has that quiet from the worst method possible. Despite that, Grian can understand the good even if it was stolen from him.
“I got lost in the focus of building so time passed quickly at the start.” There’s a pause as Scar’s gaze focuses elsewhere, “Besides, it was better then the interruptions.”
Grian follows his gaze and winces when he sees the statue. Quietly, and as gently as possible, he murmurs, “Do people come here often?”
“No. Not anymore.” Only a minuscule of relief enters his posture at that thought. “People grew aware and warnings got put up, although that only invited in hunters.” The sigh Scar lets out sounds strangled and distressed.
“And those weren’t better?” Grian quietly guesses.
Scar shakes his head, “Even if they were after my head, turning them into stone still hurts. It pains me to do it, no matter how much I hate it I have to do it in order to survive.”
Grian feels the aching pain that was left in every one of those words. He grabs Scar’s hand again to squeeze it himself, although keeps a hold of it this time. Scar squeezes it back, giving Grian a grateful smile as they start walking again.
~ ~ ~
The following day Grian finds himself walking through Scar’s garden to see if there’s anything he can pick. Partway through, Grian notices how much Scar is fidgeting with the basket in his hands, looking in Grian’s general vicinity.
He’s not directly looking at Grian, but the way he’s looking is exactly the same as other times. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, trying to phrase it as gently as possible.
Scar still winces, he looks guilty. “I realized that I’m making you do all of this, you don’t have to help me if you don’t want to. I’ve been doing this all on my own this whole time, I don’t mind continuing.”
“Nonsense,” Grian immediately counters. “You’re letting me stay here, it’s only fair that I help you in return.” Seeing Scar about to respond, he hurries to add, “Even if you say I don’t have to, I want to. Besides, I’d be bored out of my mind just sitting around doing nothing. Helping out gives me something to do.”
Scar frowns, and after a moment seems to force his gaze directly to meet Grian’s, “I still feel bad about it.”
“Don’t be, it feels nice to be doing things.”
He sighs, “If you really want to help, I won’t stop you, but know you can stop whenever you want.”
“Noted,” Grian replies, having no intention of stopping.
Scar hums at the response, seeming to accept the answer, albeit reluctantly. Silence follows after, and worrying about it being awkward, Grian starts asking about the different plants. While useless knowledge to him, he enjoys listening to Scar lose himself in explaining things that he’s an expert in.
Grian never expected to know much about plant life, typically being a city-dweller, but here he is, learning so much more then what most people would know. He finds himself eager to learn more, to find out everything that there is to know, both with plants and with whatever else Scar knows.
When he first arrived here, he didn’t plan to stay for long since he hates the idea of living so far away from big buildings and towns. Even if it has only been a couple of days, Grian finds himself happy with the situation.
Things certainly aren’t perfect, both of them being way out of practice with socialization to always make conversation easy. Despite the occasional awkwardness, things can just as easily be comfortable.
It makes sense, they’ve both been alone for so long, both been hunted for even longer. Them getting close only makes sense, finally having someone to connect and relate to. To be able to find company who doesn’t shun or hate them.
Grian doesn’t know if he’ll permanently stay here, the future way too cloudy to be sure, but he finds that he doesn’t mind the idea. To live out the rest of his existence here, by Scar’s side.
It doesn’t sound bad at all.
~ ~ ~
Most of the following days pass by similarly, both of them fully focused in some physical task, losing track of time. Other days they spend time together, not doing much at all just enjoying each others’ presence.
Casual conversations are still stilted, but it’s getting better. Grian has found himself slowly opening up as the days pass. It’s never fully, never in details, but slowly he’s begun talking more and more about his past.
He hasn’t been able to talk about the events that still haunt him, but he is able to talk about the happier moments. Even if those moments are bittersweet, it feels good to talk about his family again, to keep their memory alive.
Scar never pushes him to say more, just being a quiet comfort for Grian as he talks. He shares his own stories in return, never about any family, but he has mentioned some people that he used to know. It’s only small moments, nothing in detail, and Grian doesn’t push him for more.
What Scar does admit is moments from his time in this clearing. At first it’s about how he built everything, about all the work he’s done to make this place survivable. It takes a while for him to open up about the darker things, the amount of people who stumbled across this place and refused to leave.
The more Scar talks about it, the more worried Grian gets. Worried about how hollow Scar sounds as he describes some of the deaths he had caused, because some times that’s tinged with a different kind of regret.
Grian tries to provide his own comfort to distract Scar from those dark thoughts, and it seems to help. Nothing can fully chase away the darkness that hangs over both of them, not now at least, but it’s not as oppressive as it had been prior.
It may take a long time, but Grian feels like he could recover from his trauma here. To find a new kind of happiness with Scar.
~ ~ ~
It’s too presumptuous to assume that peace would last any time at all.
~ ~ ~
Grian wakes up with a wave of dread. He’s survived for as long as he has because of his sixth sense, being extremely aware of his surroundings. So the moment the dread fills him, he shifts forms and jolts to the side.
Unfortunately he wasn’t quick enough as he feels an arrow slice through his side. Grian shouts, the pain overwhelming him enough to not catch himself before falling onto the roof. He tumbles down the side and barely manages to dig his claws into the singles to stop himself from rolling off.
Grian pushes himself up into a crouch, grimacing at the sharp pain in his side. He looks down to try to figure out what’s happening. To his relief, there’s only one person below him. Of course they are clearly a professional hunter, so that relief is just a sliver.
They don’t even take a moment to gloat, already reloading their crossbow. The arrows are thick and are tipped with steel. It’s very clear that these arrows are made for destruction, to shatter any stone they pierce. This hunter is here for him.
Only one thought registers in Grian’s mind. Run.
It’ll hurt to leave Scar, but if this hunter is after him, then leaving will protect Scar. Grian just hopes he can manage to run long enough so this hunter won’t return. With very little time, Grian shakily stands up fully and spreads out his wings.
Just as Grian is about the jump, the front door loudly slams open. The hunter doesn’t flinch, only raising the crossbow back up to aim it at Grian. Scar’s quicker than him, not hesitating to dart in front of them and shove their crossbow to the side, sending the arrow flying wide.
The hunter glares down at Scar, anger and hatred in his gaze. It’s the last expression he’ll hold, as Scar easily meets the eye contact. All of his snakes fan out, gazes just as fierce and hissing loudly.
The effect is immediate, his boots immediately turning gray as it and his body beings turning to stone. It goes quickly, the curse climbing upwards as the hunter stands still in shock.
Within seconds there’s a new statue in the clearing.
Grian can only stand there in shock as he watches Scar sag in relief. The man who told Grian how much he hates his curse, how much he hated seeing person after person being turned into stone, how he always hesitated when he had no choice to. Yet there was no hesitation in his movements here.
Scar turns around, looking up at Grian in worry, “Are you okay!?”
“Uh,” Grian mumbles, still lost.
His eyes dart down to Grian’s side and he looks even more panicked, “You’re bleeding!”
That finally snaps Grian out of it, and his hand moves to the injury, hissing as he presses against it. “It’s fine, I’ll heal from this.” It won’t be fun, but he certainly won’t die from it.
Immediately, Scar shakes his head, “No. Come down and let me take care of you.”
You. Grian can feel himself flush at the words, and he quickly goes to protest, both stubborn and flustered, but he hesitates. Scar did the one thing he never wants to do for Grian, so how can Grian refuse him in return?
To not stress out his companion even more, he steps off the roof and slowly flies back to the ground. He would definitely be fine with just jumping off, but Grian doubts that Scar would enjoy that.
The moment his feet touch the ground, Scar is grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. Scar’s clearly rushing him, but he doesn’t go so fast that it puts extra pressure on Grian’s injury. Only once Grian is sat down at the table does Scar leave, rushing to wherever his first aid kit is.
While Scar’s gone, Grian decides to preemptively remove his shirt, knowing it’d just get in the way. He stares down at the injury, lightly ghosting his fingers over it. It’s definitely bad, might even leave a permanent chip out of him.
Normally that would sting, gargoyles are very proud creatures who care for their appearance; but after spending so long with Scar, Grian can’t help but think that scars only make someone look more beautiful. A strangled noise draws Grian from his thoughts, and he looks up to see Scar staring at his chest, face red.
“Scar?” Grian prompts, confused.
He immediately snaps out of it and closes the remaining distance, crouching down and opening the first aid kit. “Right,” he mumbles, “it’d be easier to do this without your shirt on.”
Grian can’t help but raise an eyebrow at Scar’s tone, it sounds a lot like he’s making an excuse. This is the first time Grian hasn’t worn his shirt around Scar, he belatedly realizes. Although Scar was never shy about removing his own shirt, so Grian can’t understand why the reverse would be strange.
Scar murmurs apologies as he cleans off the injury, making Grian wince at the pain. Thankfully Scar is efficient with it, not taking any longer than he has to with bandaging the wound. Grian does have to admit that it feels nice to be taken care of like this.
By now the adrenaline and fright of the situation has settled down, but Grian still is struggling to process what had happened. Did Scar really throw away all his worries and fears to protect Grian? While Scar still seems stressed, it’s all directed at the wound in Grian’s side.
Scar lets out a relieved breath when he pulls back, “There, it’s patched up now.” He looks up to meet Grian’s eyes, “Are you hurt elsewhere?”
“Mostly just small scraps and bruises,” Grian says, suddenly becoming aware of just how roughed up he feels. He’s going to be feeling that fall for a while. “Those don’t matter though, I’m worried about you.”
“Me?” Scar echoes, confused.
“Yeah, you…” Grian trails off, unsure how approach this subject.
“Ah,” Scar whispers, ducking his head, “that.” A dark blush spreads across his face, “You’re important to me, I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Grian feels his own face heat up, caught off guard by the amount of emotion in Scar’s voice. It’s overwhelming to hear just how much Scar cares about him, how much he’s worth to Scar. That Grian’s more important that what has haunted Scar for too many years.
Too overwhelmed, but needing Scar to know he feels similarly, Grian quietly mumbles, “You’re important to me too.” He pauses before adding on a little louder, “Thank you.”
Scar looks back up at him and cracks a grin, “Of course!” His blush darkens, but he holds eye contact, “I would do anything for you.”
Grian bets that his face is just as red, but as much as he wants to look away, he holds the gaze. “Scar…” he murmurs, but trails off, uncertain how to respond to that admission. That confession.
He takes a deep breath in, something in his expression hardening, “Listen, Grian, I… I really like you. It’s been so long since I’ve been around someone who’s cared about me, shown me any compassion. You made life worth living again, made me want to live instead of survive. And I don’t know how to repay you for that.”
Grian can only sit there, stunned at Scar’s words. He doesn’t know how to react to someone caring about him so much, how much his presence means. At Grian’s extended silence, Scar looks away and pulls back.
Panicking at the withdrawal, Grian does the first thing he can think of: carefully grabbing Scar’s face in his hands and pulling him up into a kiss. Scar makes a muffled noise in shock, but quickly leans closer, returning the kiss with a passion.
He loops his arms around Grian’s waist, tugging him closer. After a minute Scar pulls back, dazed and with a soft smile on his face, “Does this mean you like me too?”
Grian huffs out a laugh, “Of course I do.”
“Great! Although can we move? This is really uncomfortable.”
“Ah! Yeah, definitely.” He stands up quickly and helps Scar to his feet as well.
The moment he’s standing up again, he immediately ducks down to kiss Grian. “As much as I’d love to continue this, it’s still really early and I think we should get some more rest.”
There’s an emphasis there that Grian doesn’t know what to think about, although he quickly realizes that he doesn’t even have the time to as Scar gently takes his hands and tugs him further inside.
Grian doesn’t sleep in the same kinds of beds that most other people do, always preferring his perching then laying down. He still doesn’t resist or stop Scar when he realizes that’s where their destination is.
Part of him is flustered at the thought, the other part understands. It’s clear that Scar is still shaken by the incident, Grian is too even if he’s trying not to think about it, so he can understand what Scar is trying to do. He wants to keep Grian close, ensure that he’s safe.
Grian would feel the same if the situation was reversed, if Scar was the one attacked Grian doubts he would be fine being out of sight of him. So, even if it flusters him, Grian lets Scar pull him onto his bed and holds him close.
He wraps an arm around Scar’s waist in return and drapes a wing over him as well. Scar sighs as he buries his face into Grian’s hair, finally relaxing fully since the hunter had appeared.
Grian relaxes as well, surprised at how comfortable he feels resting in a bed, resting in someone else’s arms. He doesn’t dwell on it, already being dragged into sleep by the comfort of Scar’s arms holding them tightly together.