Chapter Text
Quiet rustling filled the room. Delicate barbs tickled at your fingers as you ran them through the plumage around your neck, carefully straightening each feather. They were soft there, almost passing for fur if it weren’t for the thin, almost imperceptible rachis running through each one.
Not that you knew what that was. You didn’t know much about anything, really. You didn’t even know why you cared about them so greatly in the first place. They had been on your body for as long as you can remember, so one would think you would have gotten so used to them you wouldn't spare them a second thought.
And yet you couldn’t help but notice them. The tickling sensation when a feather twisted, or the weird feeling when one was about to fall. It wasn’t like you couldn’t ignore it and go on with your day, but it was there. A subtle but constant itch to fix them. Some could be adjusted in the moment, a simple tweak or tug sufficing, but sometimes it required more time.
So it made sense when you developed a little ritual. Every day, usually before going to sleep, you sat down and did your best to put everything back in its place.
It felt good. Natural, even. Like something you were supposed to do. You weren’t sure why, but it did scratch that itch and left you feeling refreshed, so you didn’t bother on questioning it much and kept it going.
It was probably for the best anyway, for if you didn’t it would quickly develop into a mess. It happened sometimes -esp ecially on your back, right between your shoulder blades. Two gangly, useless wings sprouted from the spot, making for an incredibly awkward angle, so despite giving it your best sometimes you would still notice the cool air making its way through the imperfect cover of the feathers after lying down to sleep. And gods help you if you neglected them for more than two days - the bent feathers weren’t worth it.
Just one of the chores that comes with having a feather-covered body, it seems.
And today was no different. You had been leaving them for last, as you always do. Really, you had no trouble with the rest, it was just that goddamned spot back there. And the bandages - the bandages tied around your middle and holding your broken wing in place didn’t help.
Your heart froze suddenly as you heard heavy footsteps approaching the door, said annoying feathers standing on end like spikes on a hedgehog.
The party had found a nice house (if one could call a random assortment of rooms that) in this labyrinth of walls to spend the night on, and they had thankfully allowed you to take one of the three available chambers.
Not the safest thing to do, according to them, always against splitting the group, but they
had
agreed to give you space if you joined them, so they didn’t have much choice in the matter. Plus it was small and had no windows, its only opening the door that led into the hallway shared by their own temporary resting place and the “common room”, as they had called it, so you would be okay. No need to all squish together.
Their resting room had been quiet all evening, evidently empty, and from the common room wafted a decidedly delicious smell -that meant the dwarf had to be there, cooking.
And since Marcille's footsteps where light and Chilchuck's were barely audible, the one approaching your door had to be...
-"Laios? Is that you?"
The footsteps hesitated, before hastily drawing closer. The door creaked open and a blonde head peeked in.
-"Did you need something?"
-"I can't reach the feathers on my back. Can you help m-" He was inside before you could finish the question, eyes glimmering in excitement.
You hadn't noticed it at first, too focused on not lowering your guard around these weird, loud bunch of strangers that had seemingly decided to adopt you as group mascot, but it soon became abundantly clear he of all deserved that tag the most.
He had an intense liking for monsters, and for some reason, it extended to the culinary aspect.
You won’t lie; at that moment, your blood ran cold at the realization. Thoughts stampeded through your brain, trampling any positive notion that may have dared to sprout as you rapidly descended into chaos. He was going to eat you. They were bringing you along as a self transporting meal.
Thankfully, your imminent psychotic breakdown had been noticed and promptly avoided by Marcille, who jumped into reassurance after reassurance that no, they would not eat you, and if he or anyone tried to, she would turn them to cinders on the spot.
It wasn’t an instant relief, but it did help that she was understanding. She even disclosed the rule she had made Laios agree to (albeit reluctantly), banning him from eating anything either humanoid or sapient.
Of course, the unease around him had persisted. The thought of “what if he snaps?” always rearing its ugly head as he rambled on and on over each new dish, reminding you of his… proclivities.
But even then, a few quick scolds from Chilchuck and Marcille (who definitely kept watch for your increasingly terrified face, thank gods) were enough for him to realize his mistake. It wasn’t long after that he pulled you aside to assure you he would never harm you, and to let him know in the future if he made things uncomfortable.
He
did
follow it with a way too enthusiastic request to let him know if you ever became open to the possibility of him examining your body in the future, but the bonking of the staff on his head came with way too humorous of a timing to feel threatened by it.
Plus, somehow, he had seemed genuine. As weird as it had been.
Of course, y
ou had hastily turned down his offer at the time; you would rather no one touched you, still weary of them and their intentions. But as time went on and you kept traveling with them… Well, nothing happened.
You weren’t turned into soup, omelet, or any other strangely named dish, nor were you lightly seasoned and eaten raw.
Not a feather had been moved out of place, and you felt confident you could have left at any time, had you wished to.
You were absolutely free to go.
But that was the thing - you didn’t want to.
It could be said you… had grown used to them? They seemed like a nice bunch, if a little odd –the monster eating didn’t really scream normal to you, even after a life lived in solitude- But they seemed like good people genuinely concerned with your wellbeing that just wanted to help.
No, ‘used to’ is too light of an expression. It wasn’t just convenience anymore. You… liked them? You wouldn’t say it outloud -not yet at least. A mix of pride and fear kept your lips sealed. But they made you… happier.
Especially Laios.
You had no idea what part of this goofball made you lower your guard. He had no tact and confused you to no end, and he was obsessed with monsters, endlessly prattling about them.
Then again, maybe that’s what you liked about him. He didn’t think things through but rather reacted with feeling, laying it all out in the open. He was passionate and direct, with no mind games nor hidden meaning; you got him as he was. And that let you trust him. You felt safe with him.
There was also his child-like wonder, you guessed. The amazement in his eyes and how excited he got when talking about monsters was somehow endearing once you got used to it.
But if you were to be honest with yourself, it was also the way he looked at you. It was so alien to have someone look at you with not fear nor disgust, but awe. Like you were a marvel he just wanted to know more about, to see how you worked, how you thought, how you felt.
It still caught you off guard every time he made a point of asking whether you liked the food or not, if you slept well that night or if you felt comfortable at that moment. There’s a lot of scientific curiosity mixed in, you are sure, but it also felt nice to know he thought about you. Like he cared.
The thought gave you a warm feeling.
Back to the present, it took Laios a few long strides before he was on the bed, taking a seat behind you. His eyes didn’t leave you for a moment, the twitching of his finger giving away his eagerness to start.
“Here, let me show you…”
You ran him through the motions of cleaning and rearranging the feathers on the tuft on your neck, and he dutifully followed on your back.
It felt… weird. A prickling sensation erupted at the first touches, making the feathers stand on end at the unexpected contact (you could tell he noticed, a soft little “ohh” giving him away). But the longer he kept at it, the more used to it you became. The tickling subsided as his long fingers kept carding through the feathers, gently sliding over vanes and rachises with utmost care, and a pleasurable feeling of warmth took over.
When he didn’t touch skin, at least. Tingles went down your spine at every graze against it, untouched for years and marred with scars. After so long, being at the receiving end of a gentle caress was a borderline transcendent experience. You purred in content, letting your eyes fall shut, if only for a moment.
Which is why you could have cried when he stopped. You looked over your shoulder, almost exasperated, only to find him in his own trance of sorts. His eyes were pensive, distant, as his finger absentmindedly rubbed along a particularly gnarly scar. He almost seemed… sad.
-"Are you okay?"
He startled, abruptly coming down from his reverie at the sound of your voice. And with that, all worries were erased from his face, as if forgotten. They may have been for all you know -he definitely would prioritize the opportunity of getting to inspect a beastkin in the flesh over whatever it was he was thinking about
-"Yes!" He answered as he excitedly resumed the grooming.
Maybe a bit too excitedly, because-
-"stop! it tickles!" You shrieked at the sensation
To his credit, he did stop. For a moment. Just enough to take a look at your face, his as innocent as he could muster.
And he did it again.
-"no stop sTOPHAHAHA"
He couldn't help but to snicker along at the sight of you writhing under his hands. You were always so serious, always on the lookout for any possible danger. It was so different from right now, sharp teeth glinting in the light, not in a snarl but in a smile as you tried to contain your laughter - and failed miserably. It was a treat to see you like this, if even for a moment.
You did eventually escape his grasp -he didn’t really put much effort into trapping you. You definitely wouldn't have gotten off as easy if he did- and slid to the other end of the bed, making some distance between the two of you.
-"that’s... enough..." You said between huffs, holding your chest in an attempt to calm down your breathing. He just smiled.
-"Do you need anything else?"
-"No, I'm fine. You can go"
He nodded and rose up, his long legs quickly taking him to the door. Before he could slip through to, you called out
-"...thank you"
He looked back, smile widening, and you did your best to return it, stiff lips giving way to your own shy smile. His eyes, golden as ever, looked at you with impossible gentleness and care
-"you're welcome, (name)"
-"Can I do it tomorrow too? I want to see if your feathers change from day to day and-"
-"Go away!"