(YES! YEEESSS! ANON I LOVE YOU BECAUSE SKEPTIC'S PART WAS THE NEXT PART AND I'VE BEEN ITCHING TO WRITE IT SO THANK YOU AND I'M HAPPY PEOPLE ARE LIKING THE AU! ENJOY!)

Part One / Part Two /

Skeptic groaned, practically limping as he walked, feeling every part of his body aching and sore. He rubbed his right hand, his thumb brushing over parts of bone that were definitely not in the right place. He tilted his head back to gaze up at the moon and the stars, letting the night air soothe his bruised and bloodied face.

He felt blood trickle down his lip, and he spat it out onto the dirt path that he was walking down, lines of trees on either side of him, and no town or village to be seen for miles.

There was nowhere on his body that wasn't in pain, and Skeptic only had himself to blame for that. But then again, that guy shouldn't have picked a fight with him in that tavern.

Skeptic wasn't even that mad at the fact that he got into a bar fight. His questioning always managed to rub somebody the wrong way, and he doubted this would be the last bar fight that he would find himself in.

Skeptic was just mad that somebody managed to pickpocket his last stash of coins in all the chaos, forcing him to limp back home with no food or water for his travels.

But even then, it couldn't extinguish the buzzing in his brain, the euphoria that he had been riding for days now, because of what he had uncovered.

Home.

He needed to get back home and inform his flock about what he had discovered, what could finally bring their King back to them.

But until then, a long journey home awaited Skeptic.

But then he heard the pounding of hooves behind him out of nowhere, and Skeptic barely had time to glance behind him, before he had to jump out of the way of a speeding carriage, swearing to himself as it rushed by him. He grunted as a wave of pain overcame him from the sudden movement, until he noticed the carriage begin to slow down ahead of him.

Skeptic studied the ornate carriage curiously, a hint of familiarity to be found, until a dark, scarred face popped out of the window and went, "Ugh! You look like shit!"

Skeptic sighed in relief at the sight of Stubborn, who was grimacing playfully at the state of him, making the long scar that slashed across his face contort in a weird way.

Stubborn chuckled at him, then beckoned him closer. "Get in!" he yelled, not even considering stopping the carriage for Skeptic.

Skeptic sighed, and was about to tell Stubborn to slow down for him, until Stubborn was suddenly yanked back into the carriage, and a door was dramatically thrown open, and Skeptic's knees began to buckle in that moment at the sight of his twin brother, Smitten.

"Brother!" Smitten called out, hanging out of the carriage by the door, waving one arm excitedly at him. "Brother, we've come to bring you home!"

"Smitten," Skeptic whispered, and the next thing he knew, he was breaking out into a run, a grin stretching across his bloodied face as he happily exclaimed, "Smitten!"

Skeptic could see tears shining in Smitten's eyes as his brother reached out for him, and Skeptic ignored any and all protests his body made in that moment, as he leaped up at the last second, laughing wildly for all the creatures of the night to hear.

He jumped right into Smitten's embrace, who managed to catch him with just one arm, holding him protectively to his chest.

Skeptic couldn't stop the happy laughter from pouring out of him as the clutched the back of Smitten's soft, light pink silk shirt, pressing his face into the crook of his brother's neck and inhaling his scent.

Home. This was home.

Smitten lifted him into the carriage without letting him go, setting him down on a seat, and Skeptic felt the chilly night air disappear with merely a slam of a door.

The carriage kept moving, but Skeptic was stuck in that moment, as Smitten was finally able to use both arms to hug him, and Skeptic felt a warmth that he had missed for too long as Smitten whispered, "I missed you, Skeppy."

"I missed you too, Smitty."

Smitten sighed happily, then pressed a kiss to his cheek that had Skeptic giggling like they were chicks again.

Eventually, they separated from their hug, but they were both quick to grab each other's hand, as Skeptic took in the rest of his escorts.

Stubborn was right across from Skeptic, with his arms crossed and a playful grin on his face. He was wearing his usual royal guard armour, which was scraped and dented beyond belief, but Stubborn insisted on keeping his old armour to show off the kind of fights he'd been in.

Stubborn caught Skeptic's eye, and flashed him a toothy grin, leaning forward and reaching his arm out. "Glad to have you back, birdbrain. The castle was too quiet without your insane theories."

Skeptic chuckled and happily clasped arms with Stubborn, shaking it once in greeting, until he remembered the broken fingers he was using in that moment, and winced in pain.

"What's wrong?"

Skeptic jumped in his seat with a yelp, until he finally noticed something-or someone-shifting to Stubborn's right. They breathed out a cloud of icy air, and he realised who it was.

"Cold," Skeptic said with a relieved sigh. "Didn't see you there."

"Not as sharp as you normally are?" Cold teased, lifting his dark blue hood off his face, dark eyes trained on him with interest. He leaned his staff against his leg, and the shimmering ice rock that contained all of Cold's power, practically put the natural cool air to shame with how freezing the carriage now was.

"Got into a bar fight," Skeptic explained with a shrug, not missing the worried look Smitten sent him.

Stubborn barked out a laugh. "I would've loved to see that! Did you win?"

Skeptic grimaced while looking down at himself. "I don't think anyone wins those types of fights except the bartender."

"Are you severely injured?" Smitten asked, his eyes studying him with an intense concern, and Skeptic could fondly see his own similarities in his brother.

He squeezes Smitten's hand to reassure him. "No, no, just some bruises and cuts. The only major injury is that I think I broke a few fingers." He showed them all his other hand, and Stubborn nodded gleefully and said, "Oh yeah, those are broken all right." Then Skeptic grunted in pain as Stubborn suddenly clapped him on the back. "Good for you, mate."

"Ack-thanks," Skeptic hissed out, trying to keep the pain out of his face. To distract himself, he turned to Cold and asked, "On that matter, can I ask why you're the one accompanying them?" Others would see his question and tone as rude, but Cold was never offended, and the rest of the flock could understand what he meant most of the time.

"Usually when someone picks me up, it's Paranoid that's sent with them." Because Skeptic getting into fights was a much more common occurrence than he would have liked, and considering that Paranoid's magic worked with fixing the body, he was often their designated medic of the court, much to the sorcerer's annoyance.

Cold's magic worked in the opposite way. Cold would be able to numb a body completely, able to shut it down while simultaneously keeping the rest of the brain working, even past the point of death. Sometimes Cold's magic worked even better with the dead.

"Why did you decide to tag along this time?" Skeptic asked, rubbing a thumb over his injured hand and half wondering if he could snap the bones back himself. "Did you miss me that much?"

But Skeptic's teasing was met with nothing but tense silence, and the smile fell from his face as he took in everyone's grim expressions-even Cold looked a bit downcast if you knew where to look.