#*DOES A LITTLE DANCE* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hopepetal · 1 year

Text

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four pog | Part Five

I do not like this one as much but! I put too much effort into it to not post it so here ya go

Once again thank you to the lovely @applestruda and @stiffyck!

Alright, so maybe flying while injured was a bad idea. So what? A lot of things Grian did were bad ideas, but that never stopped him. Didn't mean he didn't regret it, though.

Another flap of his wings made him wince, and he pressed a hand against his side. Judging by the slight dampness of the bandages, the wound had begun bleeding again, though it wasn't a concerning level just yet. Hopefully it would remain that way until he found Scar.

Squinting, Grian searched the forest he was flying over. The canopy was thick, but not so much that he'd have to land to see. Not that it would've helped– he was completely lost, with no sign of Scar to help him out. Cub had pointed him in the direction Scar had gone, but as time dragged on Grian began to feel more and more hopeless.

So with a sigh, he opened his other eyes to search the area. The surge of new information nearly overpowered him, and he fought to stay steady in the air. Using the other eyes was always a bit of a challenge, especially while flying, but he had to. For Scar.

A group of men, mercenaries judging by their getup, making their way through the forest.

A stream flowing through the woods, waters clear and cool.

Animals foraging for food, plucking nuts and berries off trees and bushes.

A man with a cat, sadly poking the remains of a fire with a stick.

Grian shook his head before locking in on that last image. “There you are,” he muttered, veering slightly to change his direction. Carefully, he closed his other eyes, blinking away the beginnings of a headache that always came with using them.

He flew for another few minutes before descending, ignoring the warning pain from his side. It made him wish he had brought extra bandages, or even a cloak, but in his haste to find Scar he had left without so much as a shirt.

“At least I have pants,” he reasoned, “I'm not quite like Scar yet.”

Grian landed with a pained hiss, stumbling as pain shot up his side. His arms shot out and he braced himself against a tree, panting slightly. The startled shriek did not escape his notice, nor did the muffled thud as Scar fell off the log he had been sitting on. Heaving a sigh, Grian turned around as his friend scrambled up. “Hi, Scar.”

Scar brushed himself off, eyes wide. “G! Uh, hey there! What's up?”

Grian blinked. “What's up? What's up? Scar, what were you thinking, running off like that?”

Scar chuckled, scuffing the ground with his foot nervously. “Well, funny thing about that, y'see–”

Grian groaned, rubbing his forehead. “You weren't. Of course. Come on, we gotta get back before nightfall.” He took a step forward before stumbling, the pain in his side too much to ignore now.

Scar lunged forward, grabbing Grian's arm to help steady him before slowly lowering them both to the ground. “Grian, you're hurt.” His voice filled with grief. “Because of me, might I add. What are you doing, G?”

Grian braced himself against Scar, face scrunched up in pain. “I was trying to find you! Do you know how worried I was? God, Scar, why?” He looked up at Scar, dark eyes full of concern. “Why did you run?”

Scar looked away, his face falling. “You know why, G. I lost control. I hurt you–”

“You didn't mean to–”

“But I did!” Scar snapped, anger in his tone now. “I hurt you, and I'm still hurting you! Look at you!” He gestured to Grian's bloodied bandages. “Look at what I did to you!”

“Scar!” Grian grabbed the other man's shoulders, looking right into his eyes. “Stop. Do you even hear yourself right now?” He sighed, looking away. “Scar, I don't blame you for what happened. It was an accident, okay? Stop beating yourself up over something that wasn't even your fault.” He smiled gently, looking back at Scar. “Does that sound good?”

Scar made a pained noise, shaking his head. “Grian, you don't understand. I messed up. I thought I was in control but I wasn't, and I just– I was so powerless, G. What if it happens again? What if I hurt someone else? What if–” And his hands were shaking now, his chest heaving as he gasped for air– “what if I kill someone?”

“I told you, I told you all that I had it under control. That I could protect you. That I could be strong. And I failed, I failed you all and I failed myself! Gods, Grian– the way they looked at me. They were scared. And I couldn't... I couldn't handle it. So I ran.”

Scar covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking as he began to sob. “I know I'm a coward. I know I'm not deserving of the knight title. I know that I never deserved–”

“Scar.”

Scar paused, looking up at Grian. His face was tear-stained, eyes red from crying. Grian smiled sadly, leaning forward and wiping Scar's tears away with his thumb. “Scar, take a deep breath with me, okay? In... and out. And again. In... out. I'm so proud of you. Can I hug you?”

Scar nodded, sniffling softly. He leaned forward into Grian's arms, resting his chin on the avian's shoulder. There was a soft rustling of feathers, and Grian's wings wrapped around him, enveloping them in a warm hug.

They stayed like that for a while, the sound of nature the background ambience for their thoughts. Scar found that he was able to take deeper breaths, that his heart had stopped racing and his thoughts had begun to pull out of the spiral. With a soft sigh, he pulled back, gazing down at Grian.

Grian smiled up at him. “Feeling better?” When Scar nodded, his smile grew. “Good. We'll have a proper chitchat when we get back home, but for now let's just focus on getting back. You wouldn't happen to have any healing pots on you?” he added after a moment, his smile becoming sheepish.

Scar laughed softly, shaking his head. “Unfortunately not.” He glanced over at Jellie, who had been curled up in the sunlight asleep the entire time. Of course. Glancing back, he noticed with growing concern that Grian's bandages were becoming more stained with blood. “Maybe we should rest for a bit, put some pressure on that wound of yours and wait for it to stop bleeding.”

Grian waved him off. “Eh, it'll be fine, just as long as I don't strain it any more.” He pushed himself to his feet with a groan, Scar following and helping steady him. “Thank you, Scar.”

Scar shook his head. “No. Thank you. For going out of your way to find me, even when you were injured.”

Grian shrugged. “You'd do the same for me.”

“Dang right I would!” Scar grinned, whistling to wake Jellie. “C'mere, girl!”

The blue cat stretched, yawning as she woke. Blinking wearily, she padded over to Scar and jumped onto his shoulders, curling around his neck before disappearing into mist.

“Right then,” Scar began, “am I carrying you, or am I carrying you?”

Grian frowned. “I'm sorry?”

“Well, I can't just allow you to walk like that. You're injured! Wounded! You said it yourself, you can't strain yourself or your injury will get worse!”

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” Grian stepped back, laughing. “You are not carrying me, Scar! For heaven's sake–!” He suddenly cut off his lighthearted protests, feathered ears twitching slightly. “...shush, Scar. Did you hear that?”

Scar's smile fell as he concentrated. “...no, I don't think so–”

An arrow shot past the two and embedded itself with a thud in a tree. Immediately Scar moved in front of Grian, his hand going to his waist where–

His sheath lay empty, his sword discarded in the field when he had run, and Scar internally cursed himself for his stupidity. “You good, G?” he called back, not wanting to take his eyes off of where the arrow had come from.

“Yeah, I'm alright.” Grian raised his voice. “Who's out there? Show yourself!”

No response. Scar turned to look at Grian fully. “Maybe they just shot an arrow and left,” he suggested, just as a second arrow was fired.

“Scar! Look out!” Grian lunged forward, snapping his wings open around Scar just in time for the arrow to hit, letting out a loud yelp of pain as the bolt sank into his feathers. But that wasn't all- the patch of red on his bandages was spreading again, fast. Wincing, Grian stumbled back as he pressed both hands against his side. “Shoot.”

Scar placed his hands on Grian's shoulders, pushing him down and standing over him to better protect his injured friend. “Show yourself!” he challenged, his voice cold and sharp. “Come out now and I might spare you.”

Laughter rang out from all around them as Scar stood over Grian, glaring at the trees. Slowly, a group of five men stepped out from the cover of the trees, surrounding the two. Scar's eyes darted over each one, analyzing them all quickly to see just how screwed they were. Sword, sword, bow, ax, crossbow. Common mercenaries, he decided, and confident ones at that.

But is their confidence false, or has it been earned?

Scar glared at the one with the bow, watching Grian examine the arrow in his wing out of the corner of his eye. He was a little more worried about the blood that continued to seep through the bandages that wrapped around Grian's torso, staining them a bright red. His gaze was drawn over to another mercenary who stepped forward with a proud sort of sneer on his face.

“Scar, I presume? Former member of convex? Thief, swindler, criminal?” The man examined his blade, turning it so it would catch the light just right. “We've been on your trail for a while. What a lucky day this is for us, huh?”

The other mercenaries let out a cheer as Scar groaned and rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys, can't we just let it go? Jeez, don't you have anything better to do with your lives? Besides, I'm a changed man now. No more swindling for me!”

“That’s so not true,” Grian muttered, and Scar took a moment to glare at him and mutter ‘not helping’ before turning back to the mercenaries.

“Besides, I’m kinda busy right now? So like, could you come back later or something?” Scar gestured to Grian. “I gotta get my friend back home. He’s injured, y’see, because you kinda shot him.”

The mercenary with the sword laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, no. No, no, no, I don’t think so. We have spent far too long hunting you down to give you up now. You’re coming with us.” He waved his men forward. “And take that avian, too. I’m sure we’ll find a use for him.”

Scar’s smile instantly sharpened, his gaze becoming cold. “Oh no. Absolutely not. You do not get to threaten my friends.”

“And who’s going to stop me?” The sword-wielding mercenary stepped forward. “You’re all alone out here. No friends, no one to save you… just give up before you get hurt.”

Grian struggled to push himself to his feet, staggering as he stood, forcing himself to not lean on Scar. “Sounds like fun!” he chirped, forcing a smile. “Right, then. Shall we get on with it?”

Despite their injuries and lack of weapons, Scar and Grian fought well. They were a team, trained to fight against impossible odds and make it out alive. Well placed kicks and punches could do quite a bit of damage, especially when their opponents weren’t wearing armor. Still, Grian was injured and Scar was weaponless. Perhaps they could’ve held their own if they were less tired, or in better shape.

Grian was the first to fall, the wound on his side struck by the hilt of an ax. Scar shouted, lunging for the one who had struck Grian down but was knocked to the ground by the swordsman, the wind knocked out of him as he hit the ground. Struggling for air, Scar tried to push himself up but was pinned when the mercenary put his foot on his chest. “Get off me!” Scar spat, grabbing the man’s leg and trying to push him off.

The mercenary leaned down, chuckling. “That’s it? You were so full of yourself earlier, I thought you would’ve put up a better fight. I’m disappointed, honestly. This was pitifully easy.” Straightening up, he snapped his fingers. “Alright boys, round ‘em up.”

Grian let out a pained yelp as he was yanked to his feet, fighting back tears as his arms were pinned behind his back. Scar struggled harder now, fighting against the mercenary while shouting Grian’s name. Alongside the rage, he could feel the magic rising up within him, turning his eyes an icy blue as the color from his hair faded.

And yet- and yet-

With a panicked gasp, Scar shoved the rising magic back down, forcing it into dormancy. He couldn’t. Not while the memory of his friend on the ground covered in blood was still fresh in his mind. Not while the image of his friends’ horrified faces was still fresh in his mind. Not while he still blamed himself for everything.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out as he was yanked up, arms roughly tugged behind his back and tied together. His frantic gaze met Grian’s eyes, clouded by pain and widened in fear. “Grian, I’m sorry, I-”

The hilt of an ax struck Scar’s head, and darkness descended on him.

#my writing #boatem knights au #angst #goodtimeswithscar #grian #hermitcraft fanfic #does a little dance #they're dumbasses your honors

266 notes · View notes