Chapter Text
There’s a chill in the air.
All the animals have fallen silent, as if they’re avoiding some sort of predator.
The leaves rustle as the wind blows through them. Clouds start to gather in the sky, shading the sun.
It’s unworldly.
Grian grits his teeth against the shiver that runs down his spine. He’s never quite gotten used to this type of deal, even though it’s been well over a decade since he became acquainted with it.
Beside him, Martyn shifts. His hands clutch tightly along his sword.
“She said she’d be here at noon.” Martyn hisses.
“I know.” Grian replies. “She will be.”
“It’s nearly noon now, and none of our patrols have seen her-”
“She’ll be here.” Grian firmly interrupts. Martyn shoots him a dubious look, but Grian knows he’s not wrong.
Behind him, several members of the Southlands’ guard are positioned. They’re not meant to show emotion while they’re on duty, but Grian can still sense their unease. He doesn’t blame them.
“Do you think she’ll get past my secure entrance?” Mumbo asks quietly from Grian’s other side. Despite himself, Grian snorts.
“She will.”
“But-”
He’s interrupted when the wind suddenly picks up. It seems to roar as it whips around the courtyard. Grian’s wings puff up instinctively to fight the chill. Mumbo shivers and draws his suit jacket tighter.
The wind dies away and everything is silent.
Martyn glances at Grian. “Do you think-”
“Hello.”
Grian does not jump, even though he desperately wants to. Several paces in front of him, where no-one had been mere seconds before, stands a woman. She’s tall with pointed ears and long pink hair. She has a set of wings behind her. They’re lace-like and delicate-looking, but Grian knows better than to assume they’re fragile or soft.
He squares his shoulders and inclines his head. “Shadow Queen.”
Lizzie, the Shadow Queen and leader of the Fae stares passively back at him.
“So,” She drawls, her sharp teeth glinting in the light. “I’ve heard you’ve lost my brother.”
Martyn bristles. “He’s our brother too! And Timmy got himself lost.”
“Martyn.” Grian warns. He addresses Lizzie. “We did not lose our brother.”
“Forgive me.” She sneers. “I hadn’t realized you knew where he was. Tell me, then, where can I find my brother?”
Grian clenches his fists. “We don’t know where he is.”
“But you just said you didn’t lose him.”
“We didn’t!” Grian growls. “He went missing all on his own.”
Lizzie’s glare somehow becomes icier. “Well, I remember escorting him to your border. I also remember that there was no one there to escort him from the border to the palace.”
“He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.” Martyn says.
“Clearly not, otherwise he wouldn’t be missing!” Lizzie snaps, her wings flaring. “I’m not sure why it surprises me that you aren’t worried about him - you can’t even get his name right, half the time!”
“We are worried!” Grian protests. “He’s our brother too!”
“Then act like it!”
“We just don’t baby him like you do.” Grian says. “It’s not our fault he's missing just because we don’t treat him like a five-year-old. We’re looking for him, we have patrols out constantly!”
“And how long did it take you to realize he was missing?” Lizzie asks.
Grian hesitates. “Well, admittedly, it took us a few hours before we realized he hadn’t arrived - but we weren’t worried because Timmy likes to run off!”
“I’m tired of hearing all the different ways you’re incapable.” Lizzie says. “I am here out of courtesy to you. I will send my guards to search your lands whether you give us permission or not.”
“Fine.” Grian spits. “You can search wherever you’d like, as long as you’re not causing chaos or disrupting the public or anything.”
Lizzie’s smile is anything but sweet. “Thank you.”
She whistles sharply and several large wolves come running into the courtyard. Some of the servants and castle-workers nearby gasp or cry out when they enter. Grian’s known Lizzie long enough not to be worried.
The largest of the wolves, a dark brown one with lighter tan streaks, pads up to her. The air around it shimmers, then there’s suddenly a man knelt at her feet.
“My queen.” He rasps.
“Search the kingdom for my brother. Start near the border, see if you can find a trail.”
“Yes, my Queen.”
Something in Lizzie’s expression softens, and it surprises Grian. He’s never seen Lizzie anything less than annoyed - not that that is surprising, Fae and Avian don’t generally get along.
“Thank you, Ren.” She says, her voice lowered. “Now go.”
“Yes, my Queen!”
The air around the man shimmers again and the wolf reappears. He howls once, a long and piercing sound, and then runs out of the courtyard. The other wolves follow him silently.
Lizzie turns back to look at Grian, her long hair waving in the wind.
“I can have someone escort you to a guest room.” Grian offers.
Lizzie shakes her head. “Don’t bother. I won’t be going into your little castle unless it’s to talk about finding Jimmy.”
“Then we can escort you to our meeting room.” Grian amends.
“Let’s get on with it.”
Grian has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from scowling. He’s glad he’s got better control of his wings than he used to, otherwise they’d be showing just how displeased he was feeling. Martyn’s wings, which have the patterns and gorgeous color of a blue jay, are ruffled. He briefly considers telling Martyn to go take a walk, but he doesn’t think that would go over easily. His younger brother hasn’t been one to follow orders (not that Grian or Jimmy are any different).
It feels weird to lead Lizzie into the castle. Historically, Avians have gotten along with the Fae just as well as they have with Elves. Grian is old enough to remember the uproar that was caused when his father announced he would be marrying the Fae queen at the time - Lizzie’s mother. That’d been the first time that Grian had met Lizzie in person, too, and she was just as collected and cold then as she is now. Grian’s heard from others that she’s a very kind and gracious queen, but he wouldn't know (and he’s not sure he believes it).
Passersby in the castle stop and stare - it’s not everyday they see a Fae in the Avian kingdom, let alone in the castle. Grian ignores the stares and whispering, as does Lizzie. He’s sure she’s fuming behind her cool facade.
“Here we are.” Grian pauses and gestures to the entranceway of the large meeting room. “Sit wherever you’d like.”
Lizzie walks inside and sits down regally. Grian sits across from her, Martyn on his right and Mumbo on his left. Normally it would be Jimmy sitting on Grian’s left, but, well… he’s the reason they’re gathered together.
Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he catches sight of Impulse waving at him. Grian looks at him properly and Impulse points at himself. Grian nods at Impulse and his cousin smiles. He ducks into the room - he’s larger than most Avians - and sits down next to Martyn.
“When was the last time you heard from Jimmy?” Lizzie asks, straight to the point.
“When he wrote to say he’d be returning.” Grian answers. He looks to the others for confirmation and they nod.
“So you didn’t speak to him at all after I dropped him off at the border?”
“No.”
Lizzie frowns and puts her hands together. “Then he’s been missing for at least three days. He’s never been away this long, especially without warning. He could be anywhere. If something happened to him…”
She trails off and frowns. Grian swallows.
“Nothing happened to him.” He says quietly. “Timmy’s an idiot, but he’s stubborn. I’m sure he just got lost.”
Lizzie meets his eyes, and for a moment Grian thinks he recognizes gratitude in her expression.
Then the moment ends and Lizzie is back to her normal self.
“I would like to invite someone to join in our discussions.” She says. “They care for Jimmy just as much as we do.”
“Who would you like to invite?” Grian asks. He rakes his brain for who it is that Lizzie is referring to. As far as Grian knows, Jimmy’s parents are both dead (he actually knows for a fact that their shared father is deceased), and he doesn’t think that Jimmy and Lizzie have any other siblings or close family members.
“You’re aware of my recent marriage, I’m sure.”
Grian squints and nods. Dread starts to build in his stomach - he thinks he knows where this is going.
“Then, I would like to invite my husband, the Mad Wizard, to attend.”
Grian exchanges a quick glance with Martyn. He looks just as panicked as Grian feels.
“Uh, the Southlands are not on the best terms with the Wizards.” He says cautiously.
Lizzie’s eyes glint. “I know.”
“What Grian is trying to say, is that the Wizards don’t really get along with us.” Mumbo pipes up, and really he’s the last person who should be trying to help. “We’ve had a couple of, er, skirmishes rather recently.”
“I am fully aware of that.” Lizzie replies, deadpan.
It has to be a power play. Why would Lizzie ask to invite a wizard into this conversation when she knows the animosity between the Southlands and the Wizards?
Well, Grian decides, Two can play at that game.
“We would love to have the Wizards come over.” He says, forcing cheer into his tone.
Martyn shoots him a look. “Grian, I don’t know-”
“Excellent.” Lizzie claps her hands together, a smile on her lips. “I’ll send them a message at once-”
“Only if we invite the Alchemists to join us as well, of course.” Grian continues. Impulse chokes, Mumbo stares at him with wide eyes, and Martyn lets out a howling laugh, but Grian doesn’t care.
Lizzie’s staring at him. Her gaze is calculating as she leans back in her chair.
“Very well.”
Grian smirks to himself. “Excellent. We’ll send the invitations at once.”
There is no real need for the Alchemists to be involved, but they dislike the Wizards even more than Grian does and so it’ll be interesting to see how this all plays out. He’s not about to let Lizzie win this battle of wits and will, not in Grian’s own home.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, mate.” Mumbo says under his breath.
“Don’t worry, Mumbo Jumbo.” Grian gleefully whispers back. “I’ve got this all under control.”
* * * * *
Grian does not have this all under control. He paces in his room and tugs anxiously at his hair.
“This was a stupid idea!” He bemoans.
“It was.” Mumbo agrees. He turns a page in his notebook.
“Why did I think this could work?”
“Wish I knew.”
“This is going to end in disaster!”
“Probably.”
Grian whirls around. “Mumbo! I’m freaking out, would you be a little more supportive?!”
“Oh!” Mumbo jumps up and drops his notebook down into his chair. He wrings his hands. “Yes, of course! I - er - uh, don’t worry, Grian! I’m sure everything will work out.”
Grian narrows his eyes at Mumbo.
“I feel like you’re lying.”
“Oh for goodness - Grian, everything will be okay, okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Say it was all your fault?” Grian tries hopefully.
Mumbo snorts a laugh. “Not a chance of that, mate. Think of something else.”
Grian ponders for a moment, then he holds out his arms. Mumbo hugs him without a word.
It’s nice, Grian thinks, to hug Mumbo. Mumbo’s just the perfect size for Grian to tuck his head under and he can wrap his arms around Mumbo’s thin frame.
A second thought makes Grian frown.
“You need to eat more.” He says. His voice is muffled by Mumbo’s clothes.
“What?”
“I said,” Grian leans back. “You need to eat more.”
Mumbo frowns. “You think so? I thought I ate quite a lot, actually.”
“Nope.” Grian says. “You need more food.”
Mumbo splutters as Grian pulls him to the door.
“We’re going to get some food for you right now.”
He throws the door open and jerks in surprise when he comes face-to-face with Impulse.
“Oh, geez!” Impulse exclaims, wings tensed. He puts a hand on his chest. “You scared me!”
“You scared me!” Grian replies. “What are you doing, lurking about out here?”
“I was coming to tell you that the Wizards have arrived.”
“Just my luck.” Grian grouches, rubbing his head. “Any word on the Alchemists?”
Impulse winces. “They’ve also just arrived.”
* * * * *
It’s nearly a full-on war in the meeting room as Grian walks in. He’s reminded of why they never tried to form a four-way alliance, and why the relationship with the Fae is still so rocky even after a royal marriage and child.
The Wizard group contains only two people - Joel and Scar. Just because their group is small does not mean that they should be taken for weak, however. Grian knows well enough how unhinged and powerful the two of them are, especially when they team up. He gives them a wide berth.
The Wizards are both standing near Lizzie. Scar has a sort of smirk on his face as he leans against the wall while Joel viciously shouts at the Alchemists across the room.
The Alchemists are a group of four: Skizz, Tango, Bdubs, and Etho. Bdubs and Skizz are the loudest of the group, and they’re yelling back at Joel. Tango seems heated, but restrained, and Etho is staring at his nails like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Everyone!” Grian shouts. “Shut up!”
Every pair of eyes turns to him and he wants to shrink away.
“I didn’t know they would be coming!” Joel says, glaring at the Alchemists.
“Didn’t realize Grian was friends with a bunch of thieves and cheats!” Skizz shoots back.
This was a horrible idea. The fighting starts back up again and it’s starting to give Grian a migraine. Luckily, Lizzie seems done with all the drama, too.
“Be quiet!” The Shadow Queen demands. “And sit down!”
Reluctantly, everyone takes a seat. Lizzie’s easily the most powerful being in the room, and no one is keen on testing her patience.
Lizzie sits down too and puts her hands together. “We are speaking one at a time.”
“Why are they here?!” Skizz demands instantly, waving an accusing finger at Joel and Scar.
“I’m sure you’re aware that Joel is my husband, and Scar is his companion.” Lizzie cooly replies.
“Yeah, I’m married to a hot Fairy. Why are you here?” Joel says.
“Grian invited us.” Tango answers.
“I thought they deserved to know what’s going on.” Grian shrugs. Lizzie clearly doesn’t fall for it.
“Why are we here?” Etho asks, his question directed at Grian.
Grian and Lizzie exchange glances. She raises a brow at him.
“Our younger brother is missing.” Grian explains. “Jimmy. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”
“Couldn’t you have sent us a letter?” Bdubs says. “He’s just missing, right?”
“Well, technically yes.”
“So this is just a huge waste of our time.” Skizz says.
“We don’t know that for sure-”
“You called everyone here because your little brother is just missing?” Tango asks. “Skizz is right, crazily enough.”
Skizz shoots him an offended look. “Hey!”
“So, it’s agreed! The Alchemists don’t need to be here!” Scar proclaims.
The room breaks out into chaos.
“Woah, wait a sec-”
“That is not what I meant-”
“You don’t need to be here!”
“Fuck you, Scar!”
“Hey-”
A howl pierces through the noise. Grian’s hair stands on end and he feels goosebumps appear on his arms.
Four wolves run into the room. The largest one - Ren, Grian recognizes - pads up to Lizzie. There’s something yellow in his mouth, but Grian can’t get a good enough look -
Lizzie lets out a gasp and runs to Ren. Ren bows his head and gently releases whatever was in his mouth into Lizzie’s waiting hands.
She holds it up for the room to see, and Grian feels the bottom of his stomach drop.
It’s one large, blood-covered feather. The feather itself is yellow. The Royal Avian family is the only family to have colorful wings, and there’s only one member that has yellow wings.
Jimmy.
* * * * *
Jimmy’s head is throbbing. He tries to pry his eyes open, but it makes his head ache even worse.
His whole body is sore, but especially his wings. They feel raw and chapped, and there are patches that sting horribly.
Jimmy licks his lips. He tentatively reaches for his wings and brushes his hands against his wings.
Immediately he lets out a cry. His wings burn.
He knows what’s wrong, too. As clumsy as he is, he’s only pulled out his feathers a handful of times. Each time was absolute agony that left him flightless for a few weeks, at least.
Wing- and feather-related injuries are some of the most severe for Avians. Jimmy may only be half-Avian, but his wings are just as sensitive.
Jimmy’s missing a lot of feathers. He won’t be able to fly properly for a long time.
This is bad.
Jimmy forces his eyes open. He’s in a dark room, and a few moments of observation allow him to realize that he’s not actually in a room - he’s in a cell. He shifts, attempting to sit up, and white-hot pain shoots across his wrists and ankles. Jimmy lets out a haggard shout as he falls back and instinctively yanks his limbs away from the pain.
The burning sensation follows him, but it begins to dull.
Jimmy blinks back tears. He inspects his wrists and ankles and it quickly becomes obvious why they hurt so much.
Someone has chained him in iron. Jimmy’s stomach rolls at the realization. Weaker Faes, like himself, are allergic to most metals. Iron is especially toxic and can harm even the more powerful Fairies if they’re not careful.
Jimmy has been taken by someone intentionally.
This is very bad.