Chapter Text
When Grian was informed that he would be given a bodyguard for his journey to the Rift he was… well let’s just say displeased would be putting it mildly. He was fully aware that being a prince meant that he needed to be cautious, but an entire bodyguard was simply excessive.
First of all, he wasn’t even the heir . His sister Pearl and brother Mumbo were both ahead of him in the line for the throne, so he wasn’t even really that attractive of a kidnapping target. Grian doubted that any potential kidnappers would even get that sizable of a ransom from him. He probably wasn’t worth much more than a stack of diamonds, if he was being honest with himself.
Besides, even if someone did try to kidnap him, Grian doubted they’d be successful. Not only was Grian an incredibly unimportant prince, but he was also an extremely accomplished wizard. Since his parents decided that he wasn’t likely to ever become king, instead of training him in politics and business he was allowed to pursue his own academic interests. In fact, the whole reason he was making this journey was so he could spend a year studying the rift, a tear between dimensions that was leaking enough magical energy to power several cities.
Normally, Grian wouldn’t mind the bodyguard. He could just ignore them completely and if they were really annoying he could use them to practice his curses. Unfortunately, having a bodyguard on a trip like this was a significant nuisance. It was a several week long journey, taking him across nearly the entire length of the kingdom. If he was going by himself, he’d be able to fly most of the way. With a bodyguard, he would almost definitely have to walk, which would make his journey that much longer.
Unsurprisingly, nobody in his family would listen to his very reasonable objections.
“Grian, mate,” Mumbo had said exasperatedly in response to his complaints. “It’s not a personal insult to your abilities. It’s just a matter of national security, you know? Think of it like… extra insurance.”
“More like extra annoying insurance,” Grian had grumbled.
“Oi, stop being a pain,” Mumbo had said, grabbing Grian in a headlock and rustling his hair. “Besides, every bodyguard I’ve ever had has been quite boring. You probably won't even notice they’re there.”
Christ, Grian wished Mumbo had been right. He was instructed to wait at the castle gate the morning of his departure, where he would be greeted by his bodyguard. He arrived at dawn to find nobody there. He decided he would wait fifteen minutes, and if nobody showed up before then he was well within his rights to just leave by himself. He had places to be, for goodness sakes. He leaned against the stone of the castle and waited. He watched the clock carefully. Fourteen minutes passed and still, nobody was there.
He was just about to set out to leave when a yell startled him. It sounded like something between “Hawkeye” and “Hot-guy”. Before Grian could process this, an arrow flew from seemingly nowhere and just barely missed him. Instead, it caught his cloak, pinning him to the stone wall behind him.
A hooded figure carrying a bow dropped down from a nearby tree. Grian reacted quickly. He traced his hands in the air, summoning vines that shot towards his assailant and quickly wrapped them up completely, forcing them to drop their bow. Grian then touched the arrow pinning him to the wall, casting a spell to dissolve it. He lit a fireball in his hand and cautiously approached the figure.
“Who are you?” Grian asked coldly. The figure responded by struggling against their restraints and making a muffled protest. Grian realized that his binding spell also gagged its victim, and he huffed in irritation. He released the vines from just their face.
“Are you Prince Grian?” They asked. The voice was… not what Grian had been expecting. Their tone was friendly and their voice was energetic. Definitely not the voice you’d expect from an attempted assassin.
“Why don’t you tell me who you are first,” Grian replied. “Since I’m the one with a fireball.”
“You know, that makes sense,” They admitted. “I’m Scar, I was hired to accompany Prince Grian on his trip to the Rift.”
“ What ?” Grian asked in disbelief. “You’re— you’re lying.”
“I’m not! I’m not, I swear!” Scar insisted. “If you get rid of these vines I can prove it to you, I have paperwork.” Grian regarded him for a moment, deciding if he wanted to take the risk.
“Fine, but if you make one wrong move you’re getting crispy,” Grian threatened, letting the fireball flash blue and flare up.
“You got it,” Scar said. “Only correct moves from Scar.” Grian let the vines dissolve and watched as Scar fumbled around in his cloak before pulling out several scrolls and presenting them to Grian.
“Open them,” Grian ordered, not wanting to dispel his fireball for even a moment. Scar nodded and hastily unfurled the scroll. Sure enough, there was a certificate of identification and confirmation of hire. Grian peered at them suspiciously, but they seemed completely legit. Grian tentatively let his fireball fade, still glowering at Scar.
“Are you mad ?” Grian accused. “Why would you take a job as a bodyguard and then try to shoot the person you’re meant to be guarding with an arrow?”
“I wasn’t trying to shoot you,” Scar argued. “I was trying to pin you to the wall. Which I did.” Grian spluttered in disbelief.
“First of all, why ?” Grian asked. “Second of all, what if you had missed?”
“Well to answer your first question, I thought it would be funny. Which it was.” Scar said simply. Grian opened his mouth to protest, but Scar kept talking. “Second of all, I don’t miss.” Grian gaped at him, and Scar took off his hood, shaking out his hair.
Scar was a wood elf, with pointy ears and shoulder length wavy brown hair. Grian immediately noticed his eyes, which were chocolate brown and warmer than any Grian had ever seen. Weirdly enough, the scars that littered his face only served to enhance the rugged handsomeness of his face. Grian huffed in irritation. Elves .
“If we’ve got that all sorted out, are you ready to go?” Scar asked pleasantly.
“I— I guess so, yeah.” Grian replied, still too in shock to protest.
“Great,” Scar said. “Let me just—“ He bounded over to the tree he had leapt from and climbed it deftly. He disappeared into the leaves and Grian heard rustling followed by a crash. A massive traveling pack fell from the tree followed by Scar himself, who twisted midair and landed on his feet.
Grian regarded him with a raised eyebrow. Scar looked up and grinned at him. He seemed to realize something and his face crinkled in confusion.
“Where’s your stuff?” He asked. “We are traveling for a year, right?”
“I’m a wizard,” Grian said plainly. “I can just—“ Grian reached into his pocket dimension and pulled out his sleeping pad in demonstration. Scar gasped appreciatively.
“That’s amazing ,” Scar said genuinely. Grian smiled wryly.
“Do you want me to put your pack in my pocket dimension so you don’t have to carry it?” Grian asked.
“You would do that?” Scar whispered, jaw dropping in awe.
“I just don’t want you to slow me down,” Grian grumbled as he cast a spell to store Scar’s stuff. “Come on.” Grian set off down the road, not waiting for Scar to follow. Scar quickly caught up with him, walking next to him on the road.
“Heck, yeah,” Scar said, mostly to himself. “I love traveling with wizards.” At least one of them was excited.
——————
As they walked, Scar was very chatty. Grian tried valiantly to be irritated about it, but if he was being honest with himself he appreciated the conversation. Walking in silence for hours can be incredibly boring, and Scar was many things, but boring was not one of them.
“What’s it like being a Prince?“ Scar asked cordially. Grian normally would have brushed a question like that off as small talk, but Scar asked with such sincerity that Grian suspected he was actually interested.
“It’s… fine,” Grian admitted. “Being third in line is a mixed bag. There’s basically no chance I’ll be king, which basically means nobody cares what I do.
On one hand that’s a good thing. I was allowed to learn magic instead of politics .” Grian said the word politics with disdain.
“But on the other hand… I kind of got ignored growing up. Which I know compared to other people isn’t that big of a thing but—”
“No, I get it,” Scar said. “Everyone deserves someone who pays attention to them. That sounds really tough, Grian.” Grian made eye contact with Scar and saw that he meant his words. Grian smiled at him.
“I erm— kind of made it my mission to get my family’s attention as a kid,” Grian explained. “That’s the original reason why I learned magic. I hoped it would make them proud of me. It’s not that they weren’t proud of me, but I was still kind of an afterthought. So I started using my magic to, erm, cause problems in the castle.”
“Now this I like the sound of,” Scar said excitedly. “What kind of problems?” Grian rolled his eyes, but there was no real vitriol behind it.
“Harmless pranks, mostly,” Grian said. “I dyed Mumbo’s mustache blond. I charmed the castle rats to all gather in Pearl’s room. I turned my father’s throne into jello. It… definitely got people’s attention… for a couple minutes at least.”
“Jeez, Grian.” Scar said, mock seriously. “I’m going to need to sleep with one eye open, aren’t I?” Grian snorted.
“Shouldn’t you be doing that anyway, Mr. Bodyguard?” He asked.
“Oh, don’t you worry your princely little head,” Scar replied smoothly. “You are oh so incredibly safe with me. Even when I’m asleep, I’ve got plenty of traps I can set around our campsite. Besides, I have a feeling you don’t really need me, do you?” Grian snorted.
“Probably not,” He admitted. “But since I’ve got you I might as well use you, right? What about you, what’s your life like when you’re not my bodyguard?”
“Oh, Grian,” Scar replied grandly. “Us elven rangers offer a wide variety of services. From bodyguarding, to questing, to monster slaying, to titillating conversation, we do it all.” Grian raised a dubious eyebrow.
“Well I appreciate the advertisement , truly compelling stuff,” Grian said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I was more curious about you .”
“Oh, well that’s boring ,” Scar insisted.
“I highly doubt that,” Grian replied. “Come on, if it’s really that boring I’ll tell you to shut up.”
“If you insist,” Scar said, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat. “But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I am so warned,” Grian reassured him.
“Elven rangers are trained starting really young,” Scar explained. “So I don’t have, like, a hometown really. When I graduated training and started working as a ranger I spent most of my time on the road. We have sort of… bases of operation in pretty much every kingdom which is where I go in between jobs.”
“That sounds… lonely,” Grian said quietly. Scar gave him a sad smile.
“It’s alright. I’ve got Jellie to keep me company.” Scar said.
“Jellie?” Grian asked.
“Oh, you’ll meet her soon,” Scar said, a playfully mysterious glint in his eye.
——————
Around dusk, they decided to stop for the night. Grian suggested that he could fly around until he found a clearing that would work for a campsite, but Scar insisted that he already knew a place. Scar led him through the forest and directly to a cozy looking grotto. Grian pulled his and Scar’s travel packs out of his pocket dimension. He waves a hand, spelling his tent to start assembling itself. He watched as Scar expertly set up his own tent.
Grian conjured a bonfire and splashed it with a potion he had invented. The potion turned the flames a shifting rainbow of colors, which was nice, but the real benefit of the potion was that it prevented the flame from giving off smoke. Grian conjured two chairs and sat down, exhausted. Scar whistled appreciatively.
Grian closed his eyes for a moment, and felt a light brush against his leg. He looked down to see a small gray and white house cat staring up at him.
“Oh! Hello,” Grian greeted the cat, baffled. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s Jellie!” Scar explained excitedly. “She travels with me, but tends to pop in and out as she pleases.”
“Nice to meet you, Jellie.” Grian said, still baffled. How had a house cat followed them this entire way without Grian seeing her? She looked completely spotless, like she had spent all day indoors. There wasn't even any dirt on her paws. Grian held out a hand for her to sniff, which she did. She headbutted his hand and he scratched behind her ears. She meowed happily and then trotted over to Scar, sitting next to his chair.
Grian realized he was hungry, so he pulled out one of his nutrition bars from his bag and started eating it.
“Grian,” Scar said, narrowing his eyes at Grian’s hands. “What is that? ”
“Oh, it’s a nutrition bar,” Grian explained casually. “You just need to eat one of these a day, it’s enchanted to provide you with the exact number of calories, vitamins, and macronutrients your body needs to maintain maximum health for the day.” Scar raised a suspicious eyebrow.
“What does it taste like?” He asked. Grian wordlessly pulled another one out from his bag and tossed it to Scar, who caught it deftly and unwrapped it in one smooth motion. He took a tiny, tentative bite out of the corner and swallowed it.
Scar made a face of disgust and before Grian could say anything Scar threw his bar into the fire and vaulted, pulling his bow out midair and shooting an arrow at Grian. The arrow flew through the air and stabbed directly into the nutrition bar in his hand. Grian let go of it with a yelp and the momentum of the arrow launched the bar directly into the fire.
“ Scar ” Grian shouted, “What’s wrong with you?” Scar grabbed Grian’s pack and Grian watched, too stunned to stop him, and he emptied out all of Grian’s nutrition bars into the fire.
“ Scar ,” Grian repeated. “That’s my food for the trip!”
“There is no way I’m letting you eat that.” Scar insisted. “It’s completely flavorless! It’s like… sadness in bar form!”
“It’s difficult to replicate flavor with magic, alright?” Grian admitted. “But it’s practical!”
“Were you planning on eating just… sadness food for a whole year?” Scar asked.
“Well now I’m just going to starve for a year, apparently,” Grian snapped. “Since someone dumped all my food in the fire!”
“ Grian ,” Scar gasped, sounding offended. “You think I’d destroy your only food source, no matter how sad it is, without having a replacement for you?” Grian didn’t know what to think, honestly. Interacting with Scar felt like walking through a field filled with landmines, except some of the landmines exploded with confetti.
“Jellie, keep an eye on our prince,” Scar ordered. “I’m trusting you, don’t let me down.” He then bounded off into the woods. Jellie watched Grian with wide eyes. Grian stared right back at her, trying to process the last several minutes.
“Erm,” Grian started. “Are you— you’re just a cat, correct? You don’t… talk or anything?” Jellie just stared at him. He’s not sure what he was expecting. He was starting to worry that he was stuck for a year with a genuinely insane wood elf. For a moment he contemplated making a break for it, but he knew he wouldn’t last long. He was in Scar’s domain, the ranger would definitely catch him if he tried to bolt. Besides, Scar had just destroyed his food supply. Grian could definitely conjure more, but it would take time and effort. He decided he should just wait. Scar didn’t seem like he was trying to hurt Grian.
“What is your person doing?” Grian asked Jellie, not expecting any kind of answer. Jellie meowed in response and stood up. She walked over to him and paused next to Grian’s chair. She blinked slowly at him.
“Hello, there,” Grian greeted her. Jellie leapt up onto his lap and started kneading at his legs.
“Oh, goodness. Alright,” Grian said, startled. He smoothed her fur with a flat hand and was pleasantly surprised at just how soft she was. Grian supposed that if Scar was able to take such good care of this cat then he probably wouldn’t let Grian starve in the wilderness. Besides, it was hard to be anxious when there was a cat on your lap. After a moment Jellie settled, tucking her legs underneath herself as she sat on Grian’s lap. She purred happily.
Soon after, Scar returned with a large bag full of… something. Grian watched silently as he pulled a cooking pot from his bag and set it up over the campfire.
“You got a create water spell to spare me, Your Highness?” Scar asked, gesturing at the pot.
“I— yes, of course it’s…” Grian trailed off, not wanting to explain the mechanics of spell casting at this exact moment. He waved his hand and the pot filled with clear water.
“ Amazing ,” Scar said. He pulled a linen sheet out of his travel pack and emptied his bag out onto it.
“These woods are excellent for foraging,” Scar explained. “Are you vegetarian? I forgot to ask, so I didn’t get any meat just to be safe.”
“Oh, that’s very thoughtful,” Grian said, his state of shock causing him to default back into the politeness that had been drilled into his brain from childhood. “I’m not vegetarian, but I shouldn't eat meat as often as a regular person.” He extended his wings in explanation.
The magical energy that permeated through the entirety of Grian’s kingdom meant that many born here developed nonhuman characteristics. It was something that set their kingdom apart from the others in their world, and it was the reason Grian had been born with brightly colored macaw wings. Unfortunately, it was also the reason Grian’s bones were significantly more fragile than his siblings and his stomach couldn’t tolerate as much meat. Scar nodded sagely.
“That’s very good to know,” Scar said genuinely. “I found hen of the woods, wild leeks, wild carrots, a bunch of tiny potatoes, a ton of fresh herbs, and …” Scar paused dramatically.
“It’s tomato season.” Grian stared at him, not exactly sure how he was supposed to respond. Scar sighed.
“Tough crowd, huh?” Scar grinned at him. “You’ll see when I’m done making this stew.”
“You threw away my nutrition bars so you could make stew ?” Grian asked.
“ Grian, Grian, ” Scar scolded. “You’ve spent too much time in that castle of yours. Stew is the ultimate adventuring food. Adaptable, filling, easy, delicious . Don’t knock it ‘till you try it. Besides, the rats Jellie hunts probably taste better than those bars .” Scar shuddered in disgust. Grian stuck his tongue out at him.
Scar hummed as he cooked. He pulled out a cube of… something from his pack and dropped it in the water, which had just begun to boil.
“I hate to deprive Jellie of her new favorite seat,” Scar said with a fond smile on his face. “But I could use some help preparing dinner.”
“Oh, I’ve never…” Grian trailed off, embarrassed.
“Oh, don’t worry, princeling,” Scar said, winking at him. “I know you have fancy cooks at your little castle. I just need you to wash these vegetables. You can handle that, right?”
“Of course I can,” Grian grumbled. He wasn’t completely useless.
“There’s a freshwater stream just past those trees, Jellie will show you.” Scar pointed as he spoke. “She likes to harass the fish.” Grian knew he could probably clean the vegetables with a spell, but he decided he wanted to do something with his hands.
He of course had maids at the castle, but he insisted on cleaning his own room. There was something satisfying about cleaning, the methodical nature and the obvious improvement once the task was completed. It was almost meditative.
Grian knew that his insistence on cleaning had stressed the maids out when he was younger. They always went in after him when they thought he wouldn’t notice and redo everything. Which at first was definitely fair. Grian had no clue how to sweep properly, and honestly was just moving dust around rather than getting rid of it.
Eventually, the head maid, a severe woman with curly goat horns, had given up and taught Grian how to clean properly. She had figured if Grian was going to insist on cleaning he should at least do it in a way that didn’t create more work for her employees. Grian had been thrilled. The staff and royal court soon just accepted it as another oddity about the youngest prince.
So, instead of just vanishing the dirt from the vegetables, Grian summoned a sponge and got to work scrubbing the vegetables in the stream. It was a shallow stream, with water so clear he could perfectly see the rocks at the bottom. Schools of tiny fish swam past and Jellie immediately got to work pawing at them.
Grian laid out the clean vegetables on Scar’s linen to let them dry. Despite his insistence on cleaning them without magic, Grian did pull a potion bottle out of his pocket dimension. Grian had found that just a tiny bit of healing potion, when sprayed as a mist, worked incredibly well to disinfect food and surfaces. There was no such thing as being too careful, and there was nothing worse than getting sick while on the road.
Grian packed up the clean vegetables and glanced at Jellie. She had managed to catch a very small fish, and had it between her teeth. She looked up at Grian, clearly very pleased with herself.
“I’m very proud of you,” He told her. “Now come on, we’re heading back.” Jellie happily trotted back to the campsite, seemingly excited to show Scar her catch.
Grian returned to find that Scar had pulled out a second pot, which he was currently stirring. There was an open bottle of wine sitting on the ground next to the campfire.
“Perfect timing, Grian,” Scar said happily. “Plop the potatoes in the boiling water for me. I’ll have you watch those. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you exactly what to do. I’ll have my prince trained as a chef in no time.” Grian complied, grateful that Scar was letting him help. If Scar had tried to make him sit and watch he would have gotten antsy, but he definitely didn’t know enough about cooking to do anything without instruction.
“Drinking on the job?” Grian teased, gesturing at the bottle of wine.
“ Never ,” Scar said emphatically. “Not while on the road, at least. When we reach the last town before the Rift I wouldn’t be opposed to buying a bottle of something, though.” Scar winked at Grian, causing him to roll his eyes.
“Besides, that’s cooking wine,” Scar continued. “You don’t want to drink that, your refined upper class palate won’t be able to handle it.”
“I’ve got the message,” Grian grumbled. “Do you want me to summon another bonfire? Looks like this one is getting crowded.”
“Oh! Why certainly,” Scar replied. Grian summoned a second bonfire and sprinkled the smoke prevention potion on it. Jellie made a displeased sound, apparently upset that Scar was paying attention to Grian instead of her. Scar looked down and gasped.
“Good girl , Jellie!” He cooed, which Grian had to admit was kind of adorable. “Did you catch that all by yourself? You are such a fierce hunter! I’m gonna have to stop letting you out, you’re going to wreck the local ecosystem!” Jellie, satisfied with the praise, curled up on Scar’s chair and began gnawing at her fish.
“How do you feel about chopping vegetables?” Scar asked. Grian grimaced, frightening images involving a knife cutting through things that were decidedly not vegetables flashing through his mind.
“Got it.” Scar said, not even needing Grian to say anything. “I’ll chop. Why don’t you drain the potatoes, then.” Grian maintained eye contact with Scar as he waved a hand, vanishing his conjured water.
“Right. Wizards,” Scar said with a laugh. Scar sat down on the grass and spread out the vegetables. He pulled out a cutting board from his pack and began chopping.
“How do you have all this stuff in that pack?” Grian asked. Scar’s bag was big, but it wasn’t a bottle of wine, a cutting board, and a cooking pot big.
“It’s a bag of holding,” Scar explained, as if it should be obvious. “You are a wizard, right?”
“Why would someone make a bag that bulky into a bag of holding?” Grian asked. Bags of holding were rare, and expensive, but all the ones Grian had seen had been handbag sized.
“It was a cheap bag of holding, alright?” Scar admitted. “I was told the spell was easier if the bag was bigger.” Grian raised an eyebrow. Scar pulled a baking sheet out of his bag, as if in demonstration.
“Put the potatoes on this, then smash them down a bit,” Scar instructed. Grian complied, unsure what the purpose of smashing the potatoes could possibly be. Scar finished chopping the last of the vegetables and pulled a bottle of cooking oil and another linen cloth.
“Do you have anything in there that isn’t for cooking?” Grian asked wryly.
“Of course I do! It’s just mostly stuff for cooking.” Scar replied. “Drizzle some oil on the potatoes, cover them with the cloth, and let them roast on the fire.” Grian did as instructed and then watched Scar add the vegetables to the second pot, which Grian assumed had some kind of broth in it.
“Are you enjoying your first cooking experience?” Scar asked.
“I— yeah.” Grian admitted. He inhaled, and his stomach grumbled. Scar’s stew smelled delicious , like wine and herbs. Maybe Grian was just hungry, but he couldn’t fathom eating one of his tasteless nutrient bars. With irritation he realized Scar had been right, eating nothing but those bars would have kept him alive but would have also been extremely depressing. He sighed.
Scar pulled out a packet of flour and mixed it into the stew, causing it to thicken. Scar finally pulled out two plates. He spooned some stew onto each plate, then grabbed the potatoes off the fire and slid them off the baking sheet and onto each plate. The fire had caused the potatoes to become golden brown, and the smashing had given them extra surface area to crispen.
They ate, and Grian understood why stew was supposedly the adventuring food. It left him feeling warm, satisfied, and tasted amazing . Scar was a good cook, better even than the cook back at the castle.
“We’re leaving at sunrise tomorrow,” Grian told Scar when he finished eating.
“You got it,” Scar replied, flashing him a grin.
Grian laid down in his tent, and fell asleep almost immediately.
——————
Most days of their journey were exactly like the first one. They would walk all day, Scar would find a campsite, they’d cook dinner, then they’d go to sleep. Grian found that Scar was a very good traveling companion. He made easy conversation, and they talked about everything ranging from lighthearted stories, to Grian ranting about magic, to more personal conversations. Grian found that Scar was not only entertaining, but an incredibly good listener.
He realized one evening that he’d never had someone who listened to him like Scar did. Growing up in the castle, Grian had made friends with a couple of the kids who lived in the castle because their parents worked there or because their parents were nobles. They were nice to him, but Grian had struggled to form a real connection with them. He supposed he was just bad at making friends, and the weird power dynamic of him being a prince did not help. Pretty much the only people Grian ever felt close to were his siblings, and that had its own host of issues.
Maybe it was wrong of Grian to think of Scar as his friend, considering he was technically working for him, but Scar seemed to treat him as a friend. Besides, Scar seemed to revel in the unconventional. Grian doubted Scar would see any issue with calling Grian a friend. Well, at least he hoped that was the case.
The repetitive nature of their journey was only interrupted by the occasional town along their path. When they came across a town, they would spend the night in an inn. Grian didn’t bother to inform the townspeople that he was a prince, and let them assume he was simply a traveling noble.
When Scar informed Grian that the town they were approaching would be the last one before they reached the rift, Grian was both relieved and sad. While he was eager to rest from several weeks of constant travel, Grian had enjoyed the journey immensely.
They headed to the town inn and approached the front desk.
“Hi, we’d like to stay the night.” Grian said to the teenager working the desk.
“Let me look, we’re a bit packed right now,” They said, flipping through a large book on the desk in front of them. “Oh, actually I think— I assume one king sized bed would be acceptable?”
“Oh, sorry, we’re not—” Grian said, flushing red.
“Oh! I am so sorry, my lord. I shouldn’t have assumed.” They said quickly. “I do apologize for this, but we only have one room left tonight. Unfortunately, it does only have the one bed.”
“That’s alright!” Scar said quickly before Grian could answer. Grian looked at him sharply and Scar offered an apologetic smile.
“Thank you so much,” The teen replied. “Again, I am so sorry for the inconvenience. Can we offer you a free meal tonight to make up for it?”
“We appreciate it, thank you.” Scar said, taking the key they were offering him. They headed upstairs to the room labeled with the same number as the key. Scar opened the door to reveal that it was, in fact, one bed.
“ Scar ,” Grian hissed. “What exactly are you expecting to do about this?”
“I sleep on the floor, you sleep on the bed,” Scar said, sounding as if he thought it was obvious.
“What?” Grian asked incredulously. “I’m not just letting you sleep on the floor while I sleep on this massive bed, what’s wrong with you?”
“You’re a prince,” Scar said plainly.
“Who gives a—“ Grian stopped himself. “We’ll just share.”
“ What ?” It was Scar’s turn to be incredulous.
“If you’re that uncomfortable with sharing a bed with me, fine,” Grian said. “But this bed is literally huge, there’s no reason not to share it.”
“I— no I’m not uncomfortable I just thought… nevermind,” Scar said. He shook his head, as if trying to shake a thought from his head. “Yeah, we’ll share.”
“It’s still early, did you want to restock supplies this afternoon or tomorrow morning?” Grian asked, eager to change the subject.
“Ooh! Yes, shopping!” Scar said, excited. “Can we go today?” Grian smiled fondly. Scar was always excited to go shopping when they stopped in towns.
They stopped to buy arrows first. Scar could make his own, and honestly hadn’t used very many on the journey, but he explained to Grian that he liked to get fletcher-made arrows when he could. He chattered excitedly about the different types of woods arrows were made of and how it affected the way the arrow flew. Grian listened with interest, but he mainly enjoyed hearing Scar sound so passionate about something.
Next they restocked Grian’s supply of potion ingredients and spell components. The apothecary in this town didn’t have everything Grian would have liked, but it was definitely sufficient. Grian prayed to whatever gods were listening the entire time they were in the apothecary that Scar would have the restraint not to touch something.
In the second town they stopped in, Grian had stopped in an apothecary because he needed more of an ingredient needed for healing potions. He was chatting with the shop owner when there had been a crash followed by a yelp and then a loud squelching noise. Grian turned around to see Scar covered in purple tentacles. Grian moved quickly, casting a spell that caused the tentacles to fall useless on the ground. A very startled Scar blinked at him, then smiled sheepishly. Grian quickly paid for the entire jar of tentacles and dragged Scar out of the shop.
“Scar, how did you end up with an entire jar of reanimated squid tentacles on your face?” He snapped as soon as they were out of earshot of any townspeople. Scar rubbed at the red sucker marks they had left on his face. Grian slapped his hand.
“If you scratch at it, it’s going to make it worse,” He scolded. “I’ll fix you up in a minute, but you need to explain yourself.” Scar mumbled something sheepishly that Grian couldn’t quite make out.
“What was that, Scar?” Grian huffed, irritation evident in his voice.
“They looked so squishy , alright?” Scar said, burying his face in his hands. “I couldn’t not touch one. And then one grabbed my finger so I yanked it back which knocked the whole jar over.” Grian spluttered in disbelief.
“You are one of the most competent people I have ever met in my life,” Grian began. “And you touched a jar of tentacles in a magic shop because they looked squishy ? I cannot believe you!” Scar grinned goofily at him.
“I’m one of the most competent people you’ve ever met?” He asked. Grian groaned and stormed off.
“You’re lucky I’m not leaving you in this town and leaving without you,” Grian called over his shoulder.
Luckily, after that Scar had been very careful in magic shops, and this particular apothecary visit passed without incident.
Their final stop was the market, because Scar wanted to stock up on ingredients for cooking. Grian followed Scar as he examined various fruits and vegetables for their quality. It seemed to Grian like Scar was picking at random, but Scar had insisted there was a rhyme and reason to his choices.
“Scar, isn’t this a bit… excessive?” Grian asked as Scar started filling a second basket with fruit.
“Grian, this is our last chance to get exported produce,” Scar explained. “See this?” He held up a bag that must have held nearly a pound of peaches. Grian stared at him blankly. Scar sighed.
“Grian, we are much too far north for peaches.” He explained. “There’s no way I’m going to find them foraging and I can’t grow them, so if we want peaches at any point in the next year we need to buy them now!”
“Isn’t all this going to go bad before we can eat it all?” Grian asked skeptically.
“Well obviously I’m going to can some of this,” Scar replied, rolling his eyes.
“You’re going to…” Grian trailed off, confused.
“Are you for real?” Scar asked, then slapped his hand over his face. “I forgot you’re all fancy. You’ve probably never had to preserve produce for the winter, have you? You can preserve fruits and vegetables in jars.” Grian tried to imagine eating fruit that had been in a jar for months and made a face. Scar rolled his eyes at him and moved on, examining some peppers and placing several in his basket.
Scar purchased his produce, but instead of heading towards the inn like Grian had expected he approached a stand Grian hadn’t noticed. Grian realized that the stand sold seeds, and he watched as Scar picked out about a dozen types of seeds. Scar made his purchase and turned around to grin at Grian.
“Ready to head back?” He asked. Grian raised an eyebrow at the bag of seeds in Scar’s hands.
“Well obviously I’m not going to be able to find everything I need for a whole year foraging,” Scar said. “I’m going to need to plant a garden to make sure I have the variety I want. I don’t want my prince to be vitamin deficient, do I?” Grian realized that it hadn’t occurred to him that Scar would need something to occupy his time for the whole year while Grian was working on his research. He supposed gardening was as good a hobby as any.
By the time Grian and Scar retired for the night, Grian had completely forgotten about the bed situation. Grian felt himself flush red as he entered their room for the night and was faced with the single bed.
“Are you still sure you want to share?” Scar asked seriously, brow knit with concern.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Grian insisted. Grian tucked himself under the bedsheets and turned his body outwards, trying to ignore Scar’s presence on the other side of the bed. Scar seemed to fall asleep almost immediately, his breathing evening out and slowing down after only a couple of minutes.
Grian was finding it significantly harder to fall asleep. He knew he was just psyching himself out, but the knowledge that Scar was in the same bed as him was incredibly distracting. He knew that logically it was no different from sleeping in two separate beds in the same room. He and Scar weren’t even touching . And yet, it was all Grian could think about. As time passed, Grian grew frustrated. He even considered casting sleep on himself. But eventually, the exhaustion of his body won out against the agitation in his brain and he sunk into darkness.
Grian had never been the type to have particularly vivid dreams. His dreams operated the same way his brain did. They were fast-paced, fleeting, and often incomprehensible. That night was no different. Grian’s dreams that night were filled with flashes of a warm smile, the sound of laughter, and the smell of good food. Throughout every flash of sensory information, even Grian’s sleeping brain registered a deeply comforting warmth. It was a warmth Grian had never experienced in his entire life, and he wanted to sink into it and never come back out.
When Grian woke up that morning, his first reaction was anger. He wanted to go back to the thoughtless bliss that had been the dream that was already slipping from his mind like dry sand.
Then, he realized that at some point in the night he had moved. He was no longer safely on his half on the bed. Instead, he had moved to Scar’s side. Even more startling was the fact that Grian was completely cuddled up against the elf. His arms were wrapped around Scar’s waist and his wings were draped protectively over his body. Grian immediately froze. He sent a silent prayer of thanks that he woke up before Scar and that Scar was a deep sleeper.
Grian very very cautiously began to remove himself from Scar, desperately trying not to wake him up. He was flushed hot with embarrassment. How had this even happened? He managed to completely separate himself from Scar without waking him, and he leapt up to put as much distance between them as possible.
Grian silently got dressed and ready to set out for the final leg of their journey, and tried not to think about the fact that he felt more well rested than he ever had in his life.