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misspelledwordswizard · 17 days ago

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Misunderstanding

Legend x Reader

Summary: Where two idiots in love refuse to accept their feelings and end up suffering from their lack of communication.

It had been two days since we had passed through a portal that took us to an unknown time. We were currently searching for a nearby village where we could seek information, but night was approaching and there were no signs of civilization so close, which led us to the decision to set up camp. Murmurs of complaints about tiredness were heard, having been walking through the trees and sleeping under the stars for days on end, but there was not much to do; we should keep moving forward.

The group quickly split up, everyone already accustomed to their respective tasks so that everything could be organized as quickly and efficiently as possible. Already knowing my position in this math, I hurried to collect firewood and help Wild with the food. Everyone seemed discouraged and without energy lately. I wish I could do something to change that. Maybe preparing something different for the meal would be a good way to start.

I was quick to collect dry branches that could be used in the fire. These recent times that I was traveling with Chain ended up training me for this type of activity. I didn't have the habit of camping before, but now it has become part of my daily life, my routine, I had to learn to like it and adapt, but it's not so bad. At least I have good company.

I went to Wild with what I could get and he arranged to light the fire in his unique but quick way. With that arranged, we analyzed what we had in stock to choose the ideal recipe. Thanks to the Sheikah Slate, the ingredients were well preserved and we usually had a large stock of things. The problem is that with such a large group it was necessary to replenish frequently, and it had been a while since we had done that. The variety of vegetables was low, but we still had mushrooms and some meat, which needed to be replenished urgently tomorrow.

We decided to use all the remaining rice to make beef curry and mushroom onigiri, which we could store to eat tomorrow as well. With that decided, we set off to prepare. Wild took charge of the curry while I made the rice, which I would need a lot of water to wash, so I decided to start preparing it at the lake near where we camped. I grabbed what I would need and started to walk away from the camp. It wasn't very far, depending on where you looked, you could still see the clearing we were in next to it.

On the way there, I came across Veteran, who was returning from his own search for water for everyone to drink during the night. It's been a while since I've been able to talk to him. No matter what I do, something always happens that prevents me from starting a conversation or keeping it going for very long. I wonder if he's avoiding me for some reason, always dodging my questions, always avoiding looking at me. Maybe, even after all this time with me in the group, he still doesn't trust me, or he just doesn't want to get close.

This idea alone makes me sad. I would like to get along with everyone in the Chain, of course, but especially with him. There were few times when we could really interact, alone, but they were precious moments for me. Even without that intention, he managed to turn bad days into good days, just by talking about some nonsense with me or telling me about something from one of his adventures. I thought we were getting closer, but then what could have happened for him to avoid me? Maybe I said something stupid.

Seeing this opportunity to try to talk to him, I felt a smile form on my lips as I opened my mouth to say something nice and every day, just to test the waters, but I didn't even have time to do so. Legend walked past me, quickening his pace and leaving me behind, without even looking me in the eyes, remaining focused on his destination. Maybe this wasn't the best time, or maybe he just didn't want to talk. I hope so.

I made my way to the lake, trying to take my mind off it, I crouched down at the edge of the water and began the delicate work. It was an easy task, but not so quick, so I gave myself time to think. No matter how hard I tried, for some reason this boy just wouldn't leave my thoughts, surrounding my mind with all the possibilities of what could have happened, making my heart tighten melancholically, blaming myself for something I don't even know what it is.

I pushed these thoughts away when I finished the task, collecting the used things and returning the way I had come here. Trying to focus on how I would prepare the meal, I managed to distract myself enough, but that only made me realize how hungry I was. I approached the Cook, showing him my work and putting the pot on the fire, careful not to burn the only rice we had left. Still disturbed by those thoughts, I gathered the courage to approach the subject with the hero next to me, who might be able to shed some light on all of this.

— Do you think the Veteran has been acting strange lately? – I asked, trying to find out if it was really something related to me.

— Strange? Not that I noticed, he even seems a little excited. – Wild replied, confirming my suspicions, making me wilted.

— Then it must be with me. I feel like he's avoiding me, but I don't know what I could have done wrong?

— Avoiding you? I don't think that's it. Oh, unless you did something really bad, he's not mad, you can be sure. After all, if that complainer was mad at someone, you can be sure everyone would know! – He joked, making me laugh thinking about how dramatic the Vet could be sometimes, it was comical, kind of adorable.

That was good enough to calm my anxiety, for now. I would still like to know the real reason for it, but I don't want to pressure him, so I'll keep quiet for now. With that thought, I managed to calm down enough to focus on the food I was preparing and not burn what we would have for dinner.

◇

It was around noon, and we had been walking since sunrise, but to our lucky luck, we finally saw signs of a nearby village, which we should reach in less than an hour. Still unable to identify the area, we had no idea what time it was, but it was already clear that this was not the Hyrule of any of us, or else we would have known by now.

Wind had been telling me and the Blacksmith about one of his adventures on the high seas the whole way, in his usual lively manner, to which I tried to pay as much attention as possible, which was difficult considering that my main thought was showing my tiredness and hunger. The onigiri prepared yesterday had not even lasted an hour since we started walking, it was basically breakfast, but it was not enough to sustain everyone for that long, so I imagine the others are in a situation similar to mine.

I'll make sure the first place we go when we get to the village is a restaurant. That was the main thought going through my mind right now, but between the internal complaints of hunger and leg pain, I held on tight, listening to the Sailor's story and trying to be as involved as possible.

The sun was shining hotly in the sky, but it was a welcome warmth compared to the cold winds that were biting us. There was plenty of nature around here, but the trail we were on was through the middle of the forest, which made me think that all this nature might be a bit too much for me. There were times when branches and plants brushed against my legs, scaring me because I thought it was some insect. The boys must think I'm crazy because of the occasional muffled screams I would let out because of it.

I'm thankful for having heavy leather boots that were great for this type of terrain. I can handle monsters, but I definitely don't have the head to deal with small, poisonous creatures that can approach me without me noticing. Which is terrible considering my obvious lack of attention to my surroundings.

The rest of the way was a bit easier, the trail was more open, which allowed us to pass through peacefully until we reached the entrance of the village, where we were greeted politely by the locals. This seemed like a very welcoming place, accustomed to tourists, it was a relatively large village, so I imagine it must have been a long time ago from the Traveler. The locals who welcomed us answered our questions pleasantly and I was quick to ask where the nearest restaurant was, which luckily wasn't too far away.

Everyone agreed that we would eat first and explore later, we would need to divide the group into different tasks, such as getting information, staying, and restocking food. We followed the path that had been explained to us and soon came across the establishment mentioned above. It was a large restaurant with a rustic wooden look, very pretty, and it seemed like a comfortable place to be. None of us were against having lunch there, so we all went in, famished.

Time had to make sure everyone stayed in control and didn't cause a ruckus and end up getting kicked out. We had to wait a while until we found a table that would fit the ten of us, but soon we were all sitting down, chatting and thinking about what we would order to eat. Even with the Old Man and myself trying to control everyone, the table soon became a blur of animated simultaneous conversations, which I couldn't resist joining in on.

— I want a risotto! – Wind chose, excited to be able to eat something different.

— Wait a minute, we haven't even been served yet. – I replied, laughing at his excitement.

— Oh, I wish I could try a little bit of everything. – Wild commented, almost drooling over the menu.

— You can try a little bit of what each of us orders. – Hyrule suggested, receiving disapproving looks from his brothers who were not so willing to share their food.

— No way! – Four replied, not at all in favor of this possibility.

The conversation continued while everyone debated what they would order, I settled for a seafood fried rice, which looked simple but very good. So, we started to wait to be able to order, conversations were still circulating around the table, but at a relatively lower level than before. It was then that a beautiful young woman, a restaurant employee, approached our table, ready to take our order.

She was truly a slender, tall, and beautiful woman. She looked like a princess even though she was hiding in such ordinary clothes. Her long, wavy golden hair looked angelic, and her deep brown eyes showed a certain maturity. The others didn't seem to care much, but I know she must have received looks, which were totally justified given her level of beauty.

Soon we were waiting for the food in a pleasant atmosphere. The last few days had been peaceful, without any problems, while we tried to get to the village, which made everyone relaxed and was a relief. The food arrived and ran out almost as quickly. Everything was very tasty, and on top of that, the place was beautiful and cozy. It was truly a find. I would like to come back here before we leave this village.

It took about an hour and a half, from the time we arrived until everyone finished eating, paid, and went out to explore the city. Warriors divided us into small groups. Twilight and Wild would be in charge of hunting, Hyrule and Four would buy other food that was missing. Sky and I were responsible for finding a guesthouse and booking rooms while the rest of us split up to explore and get information.

◇

Sky walked beside me through the quiet streets, some locals who passed by greeted us kindly, which we reciprocated. After walking for a few minutes, we decided it would be best to ask someone where there was a guesthouse; this village was quite large and the last thing we needed was to get lost. Not to mention that, of course, we were desperate to rest soon.

After following the proper directions, we arrived at a large residence, with a very clear sign indicating it was the guesthouse. It was easy to find, it was the largest building in the area, which was mostly residential. We went in and Sky offered to make the reservation and request the rooms, getting five rooms with two beds each. I helped him get the keys, which we would have to distribute among the others later, but for now, we chose our own rooms to take a look at the quality of them – and to take a nap.

Entering the room, I was surprised by a beautiful view from the window. We were on the top floor, the third, and the view from here was very beautiful, not only that, but there was also a small balcony. The room was very clean and organized, the two single beds had large, heavy white duvets and two fluffy pillows for each bed. A small bedside table made of white and wood gave a charming air to the place, which in itself had a wonderful smell of perfume and cleanliness.

I felt like I could cry with happiness at finally being able to sleep in a comfortable bed and in a clean place without bugs climbing on me or grass biting me. I may be getting used to this adventurous life, but deep down I was still a homebody who loves a rainy day, being indoors, under the covers drinking hot tea and reading a good book.

I threw myself on the bed closest to the window, my muscles relaxing and a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I stretched out in bed. I stayed there for a few minutes, just feeling my body relax as I gathered the courage to get up. The receptionist told us that we could use the bathroom as much as we wanted, that the bathtub would always have hot water for a bath, and I would love to take one after all this time.

A little more rested, I lazily got out of bed, grabbed a towel also provided by the inn and headed out of the room, walking down the hallway to the end, where the bathroom door was. Entering the place, it was very simple, with a large bathtub in the center and some wooden buckets on the side. The bathtub was full and steam was coming out of the water. Great, I'm dying for a bath that will burn my soul.

I undressed and got in, feeling my skin sensitive to the heat and my muscles relax with it. I lost track of time there, but I must have stayed there for at least twenty minutes before I realized it and finished bathing. My mind, clouded by the good feeling, didn't allow me to have complex thoughts at that moment, and that was what I wanted most.

After drying myself and putting on clean clothes, I felt refreshed and ready for anything. With the towel wrapped around my hair and my dirty clothes in hand, I returned to my room, leaving my belongings in their proper places and hanging the damp towel on the balcony to dry. I could see how beautiful the day was outside through the large window, and that was enough to motivate me to go for a walk.

I left the inn quickly, taking nothing more than the bare necessities with me, my purse and wallet, because I don't know if I can resist the urge to buy a souvenir from this lovely village. Or a sweet treat at the bakery, that would be nice too. Walking through the streets bathed in the golden rays of the sun, I found myself lost in the comforting harmony that was there. It must be a good place to live, in a peaceful time.

I walked a little, about two blocks, before I heard two familiar voices talking nearby. Instinctively, I approached them, cautiously. I could recognize the voices of the Veteran and the Traveler, both having a conversation that I soon realized was personal, so I thought it best not to show myself and move away, but something about what they were talking about caught my attention, leading me to do something I'm not proud of.

— You don't have to lie to me, my brother, it's obvious that you like her. – Hyrule's words made me freeze in place, preventing me from leaving their private conversation, keeping me out of sight.

— I don't like her! You're all crazy if you think that, she means nothing to me. – Legend replied stubbornly, but even I, who haven't known him for that long, know that this was a big lie. Which made me go over it in my mind and think about who they were talking about.

— Oh, Vet, please! I saw the way you look at her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, your eyes even shine. – The Traveler continued, sounding somewhat provocative.

— No way, you're seeing things that don't exist. – The grumpy boy replied, while I struggled to think about who they were referring to. The only viable option was the girl from the restaurant, she was the only woman we had come across in a long time.

— You can deny it all you want, but you two are the only ones who don't see it. – The other hero continued. – Believe me, walking away and denying it will only create more problems.

I couldn't hear the other's answer, because I left as quickly as I could, considering that I had already heard much more than I should have. Knowing that Legend was in love, and with a woman he had just met, is too much for me. I felt discomfort in my chest, probably because I had heard more than I should have, now I feel guilty and I don't know what to do. Maybe I should confess my sins to him, but then he would hate me even more than I believe he does.

I took a deep breath as I considered that I had distanced myself enough. Okay, I need to think on the positive side, I can use this to my advantage. I can do something for him so that he forgives whatever wrong I did, that way we can be friends again and he won't avoid me anymore! Well, then I believe I have a plan.

◇ ◇ ◇

I walked away from Hyrule when we arrived at the inn, which had already been reserved for our group. All this talk of crushes only served to make me angry, he's wrong, I would know if I liked her, and I don't. Speaking of which, it's likely that she's at the inn right now just like Sky, and I definitely didn't need to see her right now, not after all this nonsense I'd had to listen to. Trying to avoid this terrible encounter, I finally headed in the opposite direction of the inn, alone, to try to distance my mind from these thoughts.

It's been a few days since I last spoke to her, but hey, it's not my fault. I've been having some nice moments with the new girl over the past few weeks, and I was happy, until there was that fight against a group of monsters, in which I was so distracted by the good memories of our conversations, by her contagious laugh, her smile that I couldn't perform well in the battle, almost getting hurt several times because my gaze kept guiding me to her to make sure she was okay. Well, it's all her fault for needing help in the battles.

After that, I considered that it would be better to avoid her at all costs, just for this strange feeling to pass and I could concentrate like before. But man, this has been hell. Even in a short time I got used to her presence in our group, and then, less than a day without us talking and I was already torturing myself, every single thing that happened to me, my first thought was to tell her, so I had to scold myself for such a thought.

Seeing her talking to the others while I had to keep my distance was even worse, those lucky ones don't have to worry about getting distracted in battle. But maybe that's my fault, I was weak for not being able to stay focused, because apart from that my situation is the same as my brothers, isn't it?

I have to admit, she has become an important friend to me, but the Traveler is crazy if he thinks it's anything more than that, I mean, it's the same thing they feel for her too, nothing more! And now I not only have to distance myself to keep my sanity, but because I don't have the courage to talk to her, I know I must have hurt her by avoiding her, and I feel ashamed of it. But I can't say it, not yet.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a blow on my back, turning angrily to the person who hit me, only to completely falter to see the one I had been thinking about all this time, smiling at me like a silly child.

— Legend, I found you! Do you want to have dinner with me at that same restaurant? I really wanted to go there again. – The girl smiled excitedly.

— What? Did Team say we should eat there again? – Without much way to avoid this conversation, I just acted as if I hadn't exchanged words with my dear friend in days.

— Oh, no, I'm thinking of just the two of us going. – She answered, surprising me and making me more nervous than I would like to admit.

— Going to dinner, at a restaurant, just with you? – I said awkwardly, feeling my heart race pathetically for no reason. I had to look away, unable to look her in the eyes, probably because I had been so rude all this time.

— Yes, please! – She answered me and I felt forced to look at her again, only to see the look of an abandoned dog, begging for it, hitting all my weak points.

— Geez, okay, I'll go. – I agreed, feigning irritation to hide my nervousness.

She seemed satisfied with this, starting to walk in the direction of the restaurant and I saw no other option but to follow her. We weren't very far away, and since I had been walking around all day we didn't get lost either, so we were soon at the door of the establishment.

We entered together, and there was already a movement in the place, but we managed to get a table for two easily, it seems she had already booked it before. This makes me wonder if she had been planning this, a dinner, just the two of us, for a long time. I shook my head to get those thoughts out of my head and focused my attention on the menu in front of me. From what I understood, she wanted to come back here to try different dishes, so I would go for it.

My decision was interrupted when I saw her suddenly stand up, saying she was going to the bathroom or "something like that" and that I could order. She left, going into one of the corridors of the place and disappearing. I sighed tiredly, feeling my face heat up, I hadn't realized how being alone with her made me so nervous, at least this distance was able to give me time to think. Thinking about how all of this is making me feel strange, it was different from the guilt I thought I was feeling, it's much stronger. At the same time that I feel so awkward in this woman's presence, I can't see myself away from her, because this thought makes my heart ache.

— Would the handsome man like to propose? — A blonde woman, an employee of the place, asked me, with a suggestive tone in her voice, which made me frown in disgust.

— Hm, no, I'm waiting for someone.

— Oh, there's no need to be shy, I know you're interested. — She continued, too bold for my taste.

— I don't know where you got that from, but you're wrong, I already like someone else. — I answered, admitting what I had noticed a few minutes ago without a hint of regret.

— Hm, really? But your friend said you had a crush on me, sweetie.

— What? — I asked a little incredulous, and then I looked in the direction the woman was pointing, and, through the window, I could see the beautiful eyes that I had fallen for spying on us both, and hiding when they realized they had been noticed.

I sighed, holding back a laugh and at the same time frustrated. What did she do?

◇◇◇

I hid as fast as I could, moving away from the window, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I had a plan, and it was a great plan, okay? I talked to the blonde girl, Amy, and told her that my friend had a crush on her, and if she couldn't give him a chance. God, she was arrogant, conceited and looked me up and down as if to say "Of course he liked me and not you!" I wanted to kill myself for going ahead with that idea, but it was for Legend, I wanted to see him happy.

So, I swallowed all my pride, and all the heartache I was feeling, and went after the girl to continue with my fake cupid plan. I guess it's kind of shitty when Cupid is in love with you, and yes, I admitted to myself, the reason this grumpy boy is in my thoughts all the time, the reason I always want to fight for his attention, for his smile, I ended up developing a crush on him. And I torture myself for it.

The restaurant door opened, revealing the aforementioned guy, coming out with a not very happy expression, he didn't say anything, he just grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away from the place. My heart raced nervously, he must be furious with me right now and I didn't know what to say, it was all my fault to begin with. But I thought she would at least give him a chance.

— What are you-

— Please, I'm sorry about that! I overheard your conversation with Rulie and found out that you had a crush on that girl and since you've been avoiding me lately I thought you might be mad at me, so I thought that by helping you with her maybe you'd forgive me for whatever I did and then you'd talk to me again, because I miss talking to you and you're very important to me and I just wanted to see you happy! – I said everything quickly, without even taking a breath, looking away for fear of how he would react.

Then, a silence, which lasted for a while, the only thing that made me look at him again was the sun of his sweet laugh reaching my ears.

— What are you talking about? I don't like that woman, I don't even know who she is! You got it all wrong, the woman I fell for was you, idiot. – Legend said, leaving me speechless, my brain struggling to process what he said.

My cheeks heated up when I finally began to understand what he was talking about, my heart in turn seemed to have gone faster in this regard, accelerating even before I understood the situation. I felt breathless, forgetting to breathe due to so much surprise, my thoughts meandering through all the events, replaying each one of them, but now with this additional information that made everything make sense, that took a great weight off my shoulders and the anguish from my chest.

— Oh, Hylia, thank goodness, I was dying of jealousy while I was doing that, I just didn't want to admit it! – It was the first thing that came out of my lips, while I sighed in relief, only then did I realize that this wasn't what I should say in a situation like this. – I mean...

— You really are an idiot, you know that? – Link interrupted me, approaching me and touching my face gently, pulling me closer so he could place a soft, warm kiss on my lips, which took me by surprise. I was initially lost, but soon I was returning the gesture happily, I felt on cloud nine being in his arms and my heart was pounding, happier than ever. – My idiot.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #x reader #lu legend x reader #legend of zelda #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #tloz #my first one shot hehe #I don't think this is very good sorry #I have a lot to improve

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angeart · 5 months ago

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hhau mimic arc rambles - part IV: the inbetween (hot spring bath)

(~5,5 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

-- a piece of warmth in a cold wasteland (a piece of hope in a nightmare) --

It takes some time, to slowly patch up the wounds on their souls and bury the incessant fears. Scar and Grian have each other, and they aren’t letting go. Not this time. Not again. Never. (Unless we get our hands on this au which, oh, we have. Funny thing—)

It’s now the midst of winter, and they huddle from shelter to shelter, clothes wet from snow, progress slow as they have to constantly try and cover their marks. The food is scarce, and they’re using every trick Juni taught them in late autumn to stay safe and not starve. (The thought feels bittersweet, but they don’t linger on it.)

And one day, the sun disappears. [This will be the eclipse bonus ramble, dw about it rn <3]

In the aftermath, they’re both feeling destabilised and unsafe. Grian in particular grows to feel like even more of a liability, becoming quiet and withdrawn. Terrified Scar’d leave him, despite feeling like maybe it'd be for the best if he did. (Best for Scar, that is.)

Scar does his best to divert Grian’s attention from bleak thoughts. He talks about hope, and possibilities, and—most importantly—future. He remembers that one time [in a bonus fic we never finished kjxnb bUT ONE DAY] when Grian mentioned wanting a treehouse. Wanting a permanent place. Somewhere to stretch his wings. Somewhere to be.

He tells him, softly, that come spring, once the trees are less barren, they can try building one. They will do it! Scar will build as many as it takes. Each better than the last!

And one day, they’ll get far enough. And they’ll build one that’ll last. And they’ll be able to stretch their wings, free.

Grian isn’t sure how much he believes that. But he wants to. He wants to.

They wander through the lands, seemingly directionless. The winter is harsh. The violet is bright against the whiteness of the snow and the dark brown of the bare trees. Still, with stolen cloaks, they do their best with the circumstances, never feeling warm or relaxed.

That is, until they stumble upon something rare.

They find a cave that is warm and, curious and seeking shelter, they go in.

Inside, they find a large cavern with the ceiling caved in, sunlight pooling from the hole down onto a steaming surface of… a hot spring.

Scar gets immensely excited and, without hesitating, dives right in. The warmth is blissful, melting away all the aches and coaxing frost out of his bones. It’s the best thing he’s felt in a long time.

“I’m never getting out of here. You’re gonna have to drag me out. I am willingly turning myself into a raisin.”

Grian, unlike Scar, hesitates. His wings are still dirtied and full of debris, never preened, never touched. Kept dishevelled and dull to try to hide their desirable sheen. Flaring up with discomfort and aches, muscles tense and never stretched, in an attempt to turn them into something that’d be less of a beacon.

Getting them wet would mean washing off months of that effort. (Months of held-in suffering.)

And Grian wants to sink under the water and feel its warmth, relax into it just like Scar does, but he can’t. He can’t get through that mental block. So he just crouches on the side, sad and torn and wistful.

Scar tries to coax him in by assuring Grian they have enough time to dry them (he doesn’t use the word wings). But drying them isn’t the problem. The problem is making them bright again.

Scar doesn’t quite understand what is holding Grian back, but he tries to offer him ways to sidestep it without tacking a name to it. He holds out his hands and opts for goofiness, asking if Grian is shy, promising he’ll close his eyes, as if it was a simple act of undressing that was the problem. He’s trying to offer a simpler anxiety to latch onto, one more easily dealt with.

And despite the anxiety, Grian laughs a little at his antics. It’s barely a laugh, strained around the edges, but the fondness rings so clear through it.

But Scar’s suggestion doesn’t solve Grian’s problem, and Grian is wholly unwilling to name it and put attention to it—to the hopeless way he feels about the weight settled on his back.

Scar is stubborn and determined, trying to read Grian without pushing too much. He wades to a more shallow part of the pool and softly—and still so very lightheartedly—points out that Grian could take a dip there, feel the warmth, “And only half of you gets turned to raisins.” Endlessly aware of what they’re not saying, words tucked between the lines: Your wings don’t have to get wet.

Grian eyes the side Scar pointed out with enough suspicion, as if he expected the ground there to be playing a trick on him, in fact not solid at all. Slowly, he uncurls and shuffles over to peer at it, taut yet curious, unsure yet hopeful.

It’s timid, at first. The undressing, the reach for water. But as soon as his skin meets the warmth, yearning shoots through him and he can’t stop himself.

The water splashes in his rush to get in, something that delights Scar immeasurably.

And it’s quickly clear the water is only going to incite him to give in further, setting alight a craving for more. To keep sinking, to submerge all of his body, to melt against its warmth and let it make him stop aching.

Unable to resist but still unwilling to get his wings wet, he ends up opting to slump himself over Scar’s shoulders, letting most of him dip into the enciting warmth of the water.

The effect is instant: the warm water eases the hidden pains and tension right off, making Grian huff in relief as his hold on Scar turns lax, trusting Scar to keep him safe. It’s only Grian’s back that keeps some semblance of tension, wings held up above the water line even as the rest of him helplessly melts into it.

And Scar has to ask. Inevitably, the issue cannot be skirted around anymore. “Why don’t you want them wet…?”

Grian’s breath hitches, and just like that, all the tension and anxiety is back. Just like that, he’s pushing away, back upright into the shallow water, and then further, splashing as he goes, until he’s perched at the edge of the pool, safely out of its depths.

Arms wrapped around himself and shivering, Grian tries to breathe through the reminder of everything that’s wrong, everything that he doesn’t want fixed—can’t have fixed—attention pinned to his feathers that he reslots against his spine, dry and as small as possible.

But there's no sidestepping this anymore.

It’s only when he admits, words miserable and broken, muffled into his palms and edging a sob, that washing the wings would turn them into more of a beacon, that Scar truly starts to understand this.

It was always only implied and never spoken—the topic of feathers always carefully avoided to sidestep the panic lurking just beneath those words—now broken and brought up to the surface for the first time since Grian's freak out on that very first day so long ago.

It slots together in Scar’s mind now: It’s not just trauma and fear keeping Grian from allowing anyone (including himself) to touch his wings; it’s his unwillingness to brighten what he believes is to be a spotlight that’s made a home on his back. It explains weeks and weeks of unpreened, tucked back wings hidden uncomfortably under the cloak Scar gave him the day they found each other. What Scar thought was a deep-rooted anxiety born from the time they spent apart actually goes much, much deeper. The fear is a constant in Grian’s mind.

Scar pauses, taking the new pieces to the puzzle he’s been offered and pressing them into place, considering the proper approach. “Grian,” he tries again, voice soft. “One little soak isn’t going to make a difference.” (He wishes it would. He wishes Grian would wash them out properly, let them shine like they did before. He’d fight off the whole server if he had to in order to see that once more.)

Something desperate in Grian is latching onto Scar’s words. He’s begging himself to listen, to give in, to let go, to succumb. He sniffles, dropping his hands a little bit, looking over at Scar, silent plea written into his eyes. Please. Please please please.

He wants Scar to win him over. To convince him. To yank this tight knot of anxiety and let him breathe.

With a sigh, Scar continues. “We don’t have to wash them, just…” He hates going along with any part of this, but he’s not about to change Grian’s mind so easily. He has to bargain. “... One hour. One hour where you don’t worry so dang much. Just relax, forget everything else. Let me—” He doubts his word choice for a moment, but commits to it, considering them appropriate. “Let me watch your back.”

There’s a pause. And then, from his curled-up position, Grian asks: “One hour?” It’s small, a word just shy of crumbling to dust. He wants this. He needs this. He needs Scar to sway him here. But he can’t just give in. So he asks for more. He asks Scar to promise that this won’t cause anything bad.

"Nothing bad," Scar assures immediately, even if he doesn't truly have the power to promise that. He'll make it true. He's determined to. "I'll make sure of it. And you just relax."

The words bounce around in Grian’s head.

Nothing bad. I’ll make sure of it.

He sniffles, wrangling the ever-present constraints of anxiety, and then, ever so slowly, he uncurls. His hands drop from his face and his glistening eyes find Scar’s, locking onto them as if Scar was his life raft. “Okay.”

He isn’t sure he knows how to relax, not where his wings are concerned, but he’s been tense and scared for so long, he’s so tired, so greedy for the idea of it. And if Scar can somehow will it into existence, Grian will do his best to give himself over to him.

It’s slow. Every move hesitant and unsure, every Scar’s word soft and reassuring. He tells Grian it’s just the two of them here. He leads him, step by timid step.

Grian ends up draped over him again, arms wrapped around Scar's shoulders, trying to stifle his fears into his hold of him as they tentatively make progress into the warmth that begs Grian to surrender completely.

Grian’s coherency is slipping from his grasp as the warm water and the security of Scar’s presence take over. He hasn’t allowed himself to relax in so impossibly long, only ever forced by the circumstances. (Feeling faint, being wounded, dizziness pulling him to his knees—) This is different. This is so very different, and he finds himself simultaneously nuzzling against Scar and entirely letting go, his grip growing weak as Scar holds him with his back above water.

Grian’s wings falter and droop the littlest bit. He barely notices it. They’re hovering so, so very close above the waterline.

He hums, and they dip further, and—

He twitches, startled at the sensation of water against his feathers. Running on nothing but well-trained instinct, his wings flap, frantically splashing water.

Scar pulls Grian a little closer, keeping his hands firm and tight so he doesn’t drop him altogether. “Hey, hey, hey it’s okay. I’ve still got you.” He slides one leg out a little wider to maintain balance, continuing to mumble soft shushes. “The water won’t hurt ya, G.”

Grian pulls himself tight against Scar, his wing movements calming somewhat at Scar’s reassurance. They’re left treacherously hovering over the water again, unsure, as Grian buries his face in Scar’s neck, eyes tightly shut. He’s tense again, back at square one, and even the warmth of the water isn’t working enough to lull him out of it.

But Scar says the water won’t hurt him.

He knows that, right? He’s— The water won’t hurt him, it’s just the consequences he’s meant to be afraid of. But Scar already promised those will be okay.

Grian knows Scar doesn’t have the power to promise that.

Still, he tries to wrangle both the rational and irrational parts of his fear.

He breathes heavily, pressed close to Scar, and he whimpers a quiet, very unbrave sounding word: “Down?”

“Yeah?” Scar asks, a little unsure. “Do you— want me to let you down?” He doesn’t move his hands yet.

Feeling the steadiness of Scar's hands, Grian is sure that there won't be anything unexpected; not unless he agrees, nods, gives consent. But his head is so messy, not knowing how to communicate, and he's not sure he won't misstep.

"The wings?" Grian asks, and it's not much more coherent than the original question.

“The—“ Scar tuts his tongue, remembering to take the time to think. He glances over at Grian’s wings, something he very purposely tries not to do typically, but with Grian’s head tucked against his collarbone, he looks them over, curious. “Yeah, yes— you can let them down, G.” A small reassuring press of his fingertips. “Really.”

Grian takes a breath at the encouragement; it's damp and hot, water and scar's skin heating him up, both working on stealing all the tension out of him.

Gingerly and with a tinge of fearfullness, grian relents.

He lets his wings drop.

Tentatively, the feathers meet water. Calmer, this time. Expecting it.

Grian’s hold on Scar doesn't exactly tense up, but his fingers curl, feebly looking for a tidbit of purchase, something to hold onto as his wings spread and sprawl, rippling the water, floating atop it, and— And it's so warm and it feels so good to stretch them, to let them be without force and without pressure and—

There's a half-sob, something small and all too relaxed and relieved, as looseness floods through Grian. His fingers uncurl and he sags further against Scar, whimpering quietly without any real distress.

Scar can’t help the bright, genuine grin that spreads across his face at this success, even despite the small sobbing sounds—because he knows, he knows it’s from overwhelming relief. He had half a mind to cry when he first stepped foot in the water, so he can only imagine how Grian feels right now. “Shhh, good, good,” Scar coos, pressing a soft kiss into Grian’s hair. “Still got you.”

Grian makes a jumble of incoherent sounds at Scar's praise, melting further into the warmth. His eyes are closed and his muscles loosen bit by bit, aches stolen from them. He's not working to support any of his weight anymore, surrendering it all to Scar and to the water. He doesn't even register his wings fully; they float, and it makes them feel numb and nonexistent in the best of ways.

Loose feathers and dirt drift across the surface, the spot near Grian growing murkier.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Scar whispers, not wanting to disturb Grian’s moment of bliss here. He eyes the spot where the water darkens from the dirt and debris coming free from Grian’s wings, trying not to let it affect his mood, tug at his heart.

He wishes he could rake his fingers through the feathers and dislodge all the uncomfortable things that poke and prod at Grian on a daily basis. We wants to hold him closer and take care of him, wash all the troubles away, but—

Baby steps, he reminds himself.

Grian's mind is hazy, all of him melting into the warmth bit by bit. (He doesn't remember the last time he was warm.) He feels engulfed and cradled, held and supported, and it makes him want to drift off. He's melting further into it, eyes closed and mind pleasantly dazed. He thinks he might just stay here forever. (The insides of his wings are warm warm warm; the water gently bobs them, the muscles loosening after months of being stiff and taut.)

It reminds Grian of what it feels like to be comfortable. (He isn't sure he can quite grasp it; the feeling seems too big for his comprehension.) He lets out a long, reverberating hum, almost purr-like, sinking further into the water. His eyes are still closed. He's secure in the knowledge that Scar's still here, he's got him. everything is okay.

Everything is more than okay.

"'m gonna live like a raisin," he says as a vague threat, or a promise, or— or something. Something mildly delirious. He's never getting out of this lake. It's too nice. He's going to stay here and submerge himself in bliss and escapism.

“Yes!” Scar croaks out amidst some airy laughter. “Join me in the raisin life, Grian!”

Scar's laughter echoes around Grian, setting bright, joyful sparks behind grian's ribcage. He could listen to that sound forever.

While keeping his arms in place, supporting Grian so that he doesn’t sink entirely, Scar ducks his face back underwater and blows some bubbles, loving the feeling of having semi-clean skin for the first time in far too long.

Grian hears the bubbles. Curiosity gets him to crack one eye open, only to see it's just Scar being silly. Unbridled, a laughter spills from him and— He's laughed before, sure. Here and there, they’ve had their moments. But never before has his laughter felt so light in this world. Unburdened.

Scar’s ears flick attentively and he pokes his head back out to share a grin— practically beaming at Grian due to the delightful sound. It’s a genuine Grian giggle and Scar is loving it. It rings like victory, dancing across the air. Scar feels like he’s won a tiny battle. (And it’s a much-needed win at that.)

“Seriously,” Scar says, smile still pressing at the edges of his cheeks. “Dunk your head in— it feels amazing.”

The idea doesn't seem as daunting as before. Encouraged by Scar's delighted grin, Grian can't help but wish to oblige.

His wings flutter a little, and then he's tilting himself, taking a breath. No more warning is given before he fully submerges his head.

The water rushes around him, muffling the world instantly. It's warm all around him.

Just like Scar before, Grian also brings his arms to rub at his hair, reveling in the feeling until he needs to come up for air. He pushes his now-wet hair out of his face and blinks, before he settles with twinkling eyes set on scar, a wild grin on his lips. "I did it!" And he finds that he wants to do it again.

“Isn’t our hair disgusting?” Scar says, laughing and smiling like that’s somehow a good thing.

"It’s sooo gross," Grian agrees with a laugh. He drifts closer, reaching out to run his fingers into Scar's wet hair and rub at his scalp, wanting him to feel nice.

Scar makes an approving, happy hum and leans into the touch. “And you’d touch the gross hair? Wow, you must like me or something. How embarrassing,” Scar croons, grinning with all his teeth as he pesters Grian.

A growling noise rolls out of grian, but it sounds wrong, soft and unthreatening. He grins right back, and he moves closer, gaze flicking to Scar's lips. "Yeah. I guess I do like you. Or something." And then he presses on Scar, pouncing to use his own weight to push Scar under water. "But you should really wash them some more," he notes playfully with a laugh.

Scar barks out a half-yelp half-laugh as he’s submerged, bubbles rising to the surface until the noise escapes the watery prison when he comes back up. ”Wow,” Scar grumbles, absolutely no bite to his bark. “And here I was being so nice.”

Completely unphased by Scar's grumble, Grian cackles. And then he leans forward, hands settling on the sides of Scar's jaw as both of them drip water.

Grian's eyes close and he kisses Scar.

“Oh,” Scar’s mouth barely forms the words before he’s pressing closer, greedily kissing back. There’s a bit of whiplash from going from being dunked under to being kissed, but it’s a pleasant sort of ride, the kind of dizzying back and forth he would have always expected from Grian. Part of the reason he was always so drawn in.

Bouncing lightly in the water, Grian breaks the kiss only to press a laugh against the corner of Scar's mouth. He's holding onto him, fingers finding their way back into Scar's wet hair. His feathers trail ripples behind him. "Do you want to help me wash my hair?" he ends up asking, sounding so very hopeful and impulsive, eyes alight as he peers up to meet Scar's gaze.

“Yes!” Scar exclaims, instant. Because he really does want to.

Grian's expression brightens and softens simultaneously at Scar's quick agreement. Eager excitement settles abuzz under his skin, oddly fitting alongside the newfound looseness of his muscles.

Scar removes one of his supporting hands first, testing if Grian isn’t still melting into the water too much to handle it without them.

Grian shifts to readjust, to carry his own weight and stay floating. He gives Scar a small nod. "Floating raisin-in-training," he reassures, wildness tipping into an almost timid grin.

Scar snickers, highly amused by the continued bit. "I'm very impressed with the raisin's progress," he teases as he removes his other hand, allowing Grian to wade freely. "I wish we had soap. I still don't understand how to make soap." It's a mournful statement, but Scar manages to keep his tone light, as if it's a joke and not a genuine problem. He opens both palms and wiggles his fingers in a goofy invitation, letting Grian lead the way on how he wants to do this.

Grian doesn't, in fact, know how to do this. He just knows he wants Scar's fingers rub at his scalp and brush through his hair and he wants it all to be nice and good. (He wonders if his hair will be fluffy when it dries. Fluffy hair and somewhat clean skin. A luxury.) (He wonders how will Scar look at him, then.) "Should I... turn my back to you?" he wonders.

But turning his back carries many things with it. (Namely his wings.)

Scar’s eyes flick to the sprawled out feathers—a lightning-fast glance, trying not to be noticed—before he hums in thought. He doesn’t want Grian to have to reel his wings back in. He likes that Grian is finally relaxing them like this, having them splayed out without care.

So instead, he tries to say that this is good. That he likes facing Grian and looking at him. He steals a kiss, quick and gentle, drawing Grian’s attention away from any implications turning around might have.

Grian lets Scar's affection easily distract him; for once, he's not hyper-aware and hyper-vigilant about his wings, and so the warning thought dissipates before it even has a chance to form properly, everything in him instead paying attention to Scar's adoration and the promise of getting his hair washed. He giggles quietly into the kiss at Scar's exclamations. "Alright. All yours."

Scar’s heart swells at all yours, the words satisfying something small yet primal deep inside his chest.

But as it turns out, Grian floating in the water on his belly really isn’t a position suitable for hair washing. They fumble, Scar trying to throw out some pointless, dead-end suggestions, staying lighthearted even as it’s becoming clear that there’s no way around this.

Grian hums, glancing at his wings—the top feathers are still dry, as his wings float the inner-side down. The seeping warmth from the water keeps them relaxed and feeling good, and Grian doesn't even realise he's considering them without the usually instant flare up of anxiety.

"Let me try something," he murmurs, an edge of experimental pensiveness to his tone. He pushes himself away from Scar, using him solely for momentum, so he wouldn't have to wade to get more space. He spins, water rippling, feathers gliding across it.

He doesn't make enough space. His primaries almost brush against Scar.

Scar flinches back to avoid the wings, shocked by the casual nature in which Grian is currently treating them. He’s relieved, certainly, but slightly nervous as well. “You better not be trying to escape, you have a good fifty-some minutes of relaxation left, mister.”

Grian glances over his shoulder, chuckling at him, but doesn't deign to answer. He's climbing to the shallower part again; his wings are heavy, dragging him down as he fights them and flaps them around, sending droplets through the air. He curls them, bringing them forward, and with a squinted focus, slowly lowers them back down.

The water turns murky again in an instant, as the backs of grian's wings hit water. He almost slips off the perch of the platform as a wave of weakness rushes through him at how good the warm water feels on those spots. His eyes flutter shut without him intending for it, and a groan leaves his throat.

And then he's slipping off the edge back into the depths, this time purposefully. his wings are spread around him, messy and wet and wide, and—

He semi-floats on his back, his hair now dipped in water. It feels so insanely relaxing—a word he was forgetting even exists; he lets out a dazed hum, eyes still closed, temporarily forgetting his mission is to get back to scar.

Scar chuckles quietly to himself, trying to shield the sound with the back of his hand. He’s able to ignore the distress the muddied water caused him last time, too enthralled by the wide span of Grian’s wings, which he hasn’t seen in so long.

Even dirtied and drenched in water, they’re beautiful.

“Should I leave you alone with the water for a bit—?” Scar teases after another moment of admiring Grian. “Would hate to interrupt.”

Despite saying that, his hands itch to touch. They twitch and he hides them underwater, remaining patient.

"Mmmm." Grian lets the water gently push him around, and he keeps his eyes closed for a while, staying silent after Scar's question. But then he remembers: he's going to get his hair washed. Scar's fingers are going to press and rub against his scalp and—

"Please do interrupt," he begs, dark eyes dazedly finding Scar.

“If you insist,” Scar says like he’s not equally as antsy. He approaches with caution, careful to wade between any scattered feathers, then wiggles his fingers on either side of Grian’s head. “Any requests? Gentle? Deep tissue massage? Kisses or no kisses?” He hovers over Grian’s head as he asks, grinning.

Grian peers up at Scar, upside-down, and even though he appreciates Scar’s silliness and him offering choices, decision-making feels a bit overwhelming right now.

And yet as soon as he catches sight of Scar, he can’t help but tilt his head more, desiring more closeness. His hair submerges, obliging towards the task at hand, but there’s far more than that in the simple gesture: Grian’s throat is bare (so is the rest of him, to be fair) (exposed wings included), and there’s something eager about the way his lips fall slightly apart. “Kisses. Definitely kisses.”

Without hesitation, Scar leans down, smiling. “Oh excellent, that was my recommendation anyway!” He plants a kiss on Grian’s forehead to start, just a taste of what he’s offering, then threads his fingers into Grian’s flowing hair underwater, keeping his touch tentative for the time being.

Grian hums, both at the kiss and at the touch, a sound that reverbs in his throat. His wings spread a little more. He’s feeling pleasant and pleased, edging that state of melting into everything.

Scar starts by running his fingers through Grian’s hair, mapping out the territory and smoothing out his locks to make it easier for the proper cleaning.

Helpless to stop it, Grian finds his eyes falling shut again. Everything's so pleasant and lulling, he can almost imagine falling asleep here. (He's certainly tired enough for it, the dark bruising under his eyes speaking volumes about that.) He wants Scar to keep touching him, to keep brushing his fingers through his hair, to— to be here, in this, with him.

“Good?” Scar checks even though he knows the answer, his fingers still gentle; he wants to hear Grian say it, confirm that this is happening, that this moment is real amidst this server of hostility and cruelty.

“Good,” Grian purrs mindlessly.

Scar slowly adds more pressure, lightly scratching at Grian's scalp for maximum effect, trying to provide as much relief as he can.

Grian lets out little noises—sleep-laced, groggy little things—as he melts against every Scar's touch. He wants to tell him how really, really good it feels, but he can't find coherent enough words, nor make his vocal cords work. He just floats, in more ways than one. "'m sleep," he murmurs, as a warning.

He wants to look up at Scar, but his eyelids are heavy, his body gently bobbing in water that keeps him warm and relaxed. Scar continues effortlessly lacing his fingers through curls and working small bundles of hair through his fingertips to loosen any pesky dirt that's made home there, finding almost as much pleasure in this little routine as Grian does.

"Gosh, making it my job to keep you from drowning?" Scar scolds lightheartedly with absolutely no disdain. Truthfully, the wings might be working as enough of a feather floatie for Grian anyway, but Scar doesn't mind making up for where they slack.

"Mmmmhm," Grian confirms. His muscles are so lax. He forgot this was even possible. He hasn't felt pleasantly sleepy in so long—so many horrible dreams and endless fears and never-ending tension. This hot spring is tempting him to succumb to everything it offers, and Scar's hands are breaking the last of his resistance. "Won't let me..." he trails off, meaning to say won't let me drown. The sentense stays broken, sinking out of Grian's reach. "Trust," he murmurs, barely audible, word slurred with sleep.

Scar's about to ask who won't let him sleep, but understands that's not what's being said after he continues listening. He smiles. "Of course not," he confirms, lightly scratching behind Grian's earwings, a spot he himself took great relief from.

The scratch behind Grian's earwings sends something in him skittering and haywire in the best of ways. He chirps through the haze of sleep, unable to catch himself. His earwings flutter against the water, sending a small spray of droplets around them, but they settle back down quickly enough, limp like the rest of him. A drawn-out coo is coaxed from Grian's throat as he blindly tilts his head further into it, chasing the pleasant touch.

There's no tension to Grian’s expression, no fear marring the space between his brows.

It feels like a dream, if this world ever knew such a thing as good dreams.

Scar chews at his lip, swallowing down all the comments we wants to make about how adorable Grian is all relaxed and bird-brained. He's not so sure Grian is sleepy enough to resist groaning and quipping back at that, so he resists, wanting him to continue drifting.

He directs his fingertips over Grian's temple and to the top of his forehead, grazing his nails over the skin as gently as he can and massaging into the base of his hair. And he lingers. Keeps rubbing circles and tracing across Grian's hairline, taking his fine time as if he intended to clean each individual strand.

The way Scar is touching him would make Grian go positively insane if it wouldn't turn him into an incoherent puddle first. He hums, quiet, the sound barely there, edging dreamy delirium under Scar's attentive guidance.

He really does feel himself drifting, sleep latching on and consciousness waning. The combination of stacked-up tiredness and the wholly complete relaxation are taking him over and, before he even fully realises what's happening, he's completely limp, breath evening out.

He dips a little in the water, but stays mostly afloat anyway. Scar preemptively lifts one knee to catch Grian if his body starts to dip too far underwater, but he seems steady enough for the time being.

Content with his successful attempt to get Grian to relax, Scar goes for softer motions, just enough to keep the flow of pleasant sensations going without doing anything that could wake his sleeping bird.

After a minute or so, Scar sneaks a proper glance at Grian’s splayed out wings, how they fill the water around them with dirt and smaller pieces of debris. He has to resist plucking a twig from a close-by cluster of feathers, praying the water will do it for him. He settles for what he can do for now, not willing to abuse the trust Grian is offering him here by pushing his luck.

He hums a soothing, soft melody as he works, filling the space as he gets Grian’s hair clean, hoping to keep the avian’s sleep relaxed and nice. Without nightmares, for once. Warm and safe and spoiled.

Such strange concept for this world.

And yet even those things can exist here.

Scar watches his sleeping bird and he thinks that maybe there’s hope for them still after all.

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