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He startles awake at the sound of hammering wood, bolting up in his bed. It’s still dark in his room, the curtains drawn tightly shut as he stares at his door. That one…hadn't been the one that slammed open.
He swallows, slipping from his bed and towards the door. There are voices on the other side, and people are speaking loudly to each other. He can pick out Scott’s voice, and Jimmy’s, both of them talking to a third person that sounds almost vaguely familiar.
He hears Scott shout, and he backpedals, stepping back from the door. The door slams open a few moments later, the edge of it just barely missing his face. The person stands in the doorway, completely filling it.
Hands grab at their shoulders, pulling them back and away. “Aeor above Sausage,” Scott smacks him on the arm, “You can't just barge into people’s rooms like that. Do you have any manners?”
“Not at all.” Sausage responds cheerfully, easily shrugging Scott’s hands off of him. “Though, I do believe I promised the newest addition to your household a little journey out.” Sausage looks back at him, a grin spreading across his face.
He’s reminded of their conversation at the meeting earlier that week, and Sausage’s short questions on his opinion of chaos before he’d been pulled back to Rivendell. “Not very fucking polite to barge in here at ass o’clock and demand I go out with you though, is it?”
Sausage blinks at him for a second, before laughing. “Didn't think you’d like someone with that much of a mouth, Scott.” Scott glares at Sausage for a moment, wings ruffling a little. “I’ll give you time to get ready though, wouldn't want you walking out and about in your pyjamas.”
“Thanks.” He shuts the door in Sausage’s face, flicking the light on a few seconds later. He hears Scott laugh from behind the door, their voices slowly retreating from outside to downstairs.
He changes quickly, grateful for the clothes that Scott had managed to get for him on their last trip out and the warmth they give him.
He doesn't bother with the stairs on the way down, simply leaping over the bannister and gliding down to the floor below. He kicks his legs a little before he reaches the ground, managing to land without too much stumbling.
Sausage eyes him for a moment, before turning to Scott. “Have you been teaching him how to fly?”
“I have been a little,” Scott shrugs, taking a sip from his mug, “Though we’re more so working on building strength and allowing his wings to grow first. They're not exactly at flight-size yet.”
“That’s a shame.” Sausage nudges Jimmy’s chair as he moves past, startling the man awake at the table. “I'm stealing him from you now, okay?” Sausage doesn't grab him by the arm, simply ushering him out of the room and out into the snow beyond.
He’s beginning to like him a little less by the second, already knee-deep in snow and not even five minutes into their little adventure.
“It’s still dark out.” He observes. “Why the fuck have you brought me outside when it’s still dark .”
“The best things happen under the cover of night.” Sausage whispers, despite the fact that it is literally just the two of them outside currently. Because the rest of Rivendell’s population is entirely sane, and not some crazy lunatic like the man stood before him.
“Because we’re scheming.” Sausage’s laugh is more like hiccupping giggles, and he has a feeling it's meant to be an evil laugh of some kind. It fails drastically, though maybe only because he’s heard better evil laughs than that.
“We are standing in the freezing fucking snow. We are not scheming.” His wings flutter a little as he speaks, emphasising his words as he talks. “This,” he gestures between the two of them, “Is not scheming. This is giving ourselves hypothermia.”
“We aren't scheming, because your dads are spying on us from behind that curtain. Don't think I can't see you Scott!” He raises his voice, and he turns to look at the window, watching as the curtain jolts with motion, the shadows behind it disappearing quickly. “Honestly,” Sausage shakes his head, “No subtlety, either of them.”
“You're not exactly subtle yourself.”
“I can do subtlety!” Sausage begins to push his way through the snow, trudging down the well-trodden path despite the wings - elytra, they're called - slung over his shoulders. “One time I-” he cuts himself off with a frown, glancing back at him. “Nevermind. Probably not the best story.”
“Nuh-uh.” He hurries to catch up with him, “You can't just leave it like that. How are you subtle?”
“It’s not exactly my proudest moment.” Sausage continues to evade, averting his eyes as they make their way into their town centre.
“We’ve all had our bad moments, just tell me. Please?” He tries for politeness, watching as Sausage sighs, folding a little.
“Has Scott told you about the things that happened a few years ago?” He asks, and he nods slowly, suddenly fearing about where this is going. “Well, he’s probably also told you that I was, uh, quite directly involved in it.” He laughs a little.
“He also emphasised that you were possessed, by his demon…brother?”
“Yeah, Xornoth.” Sausage grimaces as he says their name, nose scrunching up as he pauses. “Well, me and fWhip, that’s my brother, we were asked to capture Scott. Because he’s Aeor’s Champion and all, and if we had Aeor’s Champion, we could win it.”
They pass through the gates, the guards on either side stepping back and allowing them passage out onto the clifftop. Sausage turns to the left, apparently familiar with the track that winds down the side, barely wide enough for three people to walk along.
“Aeor’s the deer god, right?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Big golden statue of him back there.” He jerks his head backwards, indicating Rivendell. “And, well, I really didn't want to involve fWhip in this, he could stay pretty out of the way of things if he wanted to. So, I volunteered to ambush him. It was after one of the meetings, like the one you attended, and me and fWhip had a double act.”
“fWhip’s the one with the dragon-y wings.” He gestures out, his own wings flaring for explanation. “Yeah?”
“That’s him. He rules the Grimlands, big redstone city there. They've got all the tech, most of the things in houses are from there.”
“How are you all related if you rule different empires?”
“I'm not actually related to them?” Sausage sounds confused about it himself, “I'm more of an honorary brother, it’s fWhip and Gem that are actually related.”
“Then how come they both rule their own empires?”
“That’s their own story to tell.” Sausage shuts it down quickly, not even allowing him to get further with his questioning. “It’s…a sensitive topic, to put it lightly. If you ask, just ask politely.”
“Okay.” He’s not going to question him further, because Sausage could very easily shove him off the side of this mountain right now, and oh Prime, why didn't he walk on the inside instead. “What did you do in the meeting, then?”
“We made sure to annoy him.” Sausage shrugs. “He had a terrible temper a few years ago, incredibly argumentative, almost got him killed a few times. Though, his anger wasn't as quick to flare up as Jimmy’s, Scott was more likely to be passive-aggressive with you rather than actually fight you.”
He can't really imagine Scott as an argumentative person. He’s more of a calm person that would definitely stab you in the back later rather than go for you where you can see him.
“It was when his antlers grew in, Katherine called a meeting about it. I think she was trying to do a good thing but all she really did was provide us with an opportunity to irritate him until he stormed out, Katherine would then end the meeting, and I could follow after him.”
“And when you found him?” His voice doesn't shake at all, and the worried glance Sausage sends him is completely and utterly unnecessary.
“I knocked him out with a potion, he was sat in a tree, and I just waited until he came down and started walking away. Snuck up on him, all sneaky and stealthy, and then I got him.”
“And that was it.”
“That was it.” Sausage agrees. “I'm not telling you what happened afterwards.”
He stares at Sausage, watching as his face twitches a little, crumpling under his scrutiny. He can't really blame him, he is pretty fucking intimidating.
“Where are we going?” He asks, relieving the silence with his question.
“The Crystal Cliffs, it’s just below Rivendell, meaning it's the easiest to reach. And it’s where Gem lives, and I really want to steal her hat.”
“Her hat?” He stares at him. “Are you about to tell me we’ve trekked all this way so you can steal a fucking hat ?”
“Yes.” Sausage nods. “It’s a very big hat.”
“You're insane.”
“Everyone here’s insane. It’s just a fact of life at this point. Tell me, how comfortable are you with flying?”
“I can't fly. My wings are too small.”
“If I carried you? Would that be a bad thing?”
He considers it, looking over Sausage and finding that the idea of touch isn't making his skin squirm like it normally does. Usually, it feels like he has a bunch of worms writhing underneath his skin, sending goosebumps over his arms when the contact is actually made.
“I wouldn't be opposed to it if it means we get out of this snow faster.” Opposed to it . Prime he’s starting to sound like Scott now.
“Okay, I'm just gonna grab you like this, yeah?” Sausage moves behind him, which does make his feathers prickle a little, slowly hooking his hands beneath his arms. “And we’re just gonna glide down, because her tower’s just over there.”
“And how do we know she’s not in it?”
“She’s a workaholic. She won't be awake for at least another four hours. And I'm willing to bet a lot of money that she’s passed out in the university library right now.”
Sausage tightens his hold a little, before simply stepping off the edge. His stomach plummets ahead of him and he feels faintly ill, watching as the spikes of rock slowly rise up and up towards them.
Something whirrs, and they snap back up, the elytra catching the wind and evening them out into a gentle glide. The wind rushing through his hair is great, and he closes his eyes, allowing himself to relish in the feeling as he spreads his wings out.
The journey comes to an end too soon, and he’s landing on the open top of Gem’s tower, footsteps echoing off the pure marble floors of the place. God these people were fucking rich.
“Isn't this a bit inconvenient?” He asks, staring at the flight of stairs that lead downwards. There’s no lock, no apparent traps. There’s not even a door, just an open staircase that spirals downwards.
“Only in the winter, it gets colder when it’s winter.” Sausage is already halfway to the stairs, making his way down them, footsteps echoing the whole way. There’s no way this man can do subtlety, even if he did manage to nab Scott, like, once.
“I meant for thieves and stuff.” He follows after him, taking care to make his footsteps quieter than Sausage’s. “Can't they just scale the tower or fly in like you did?”
“They wouldn't dare.” He laughs. “Gem would vaporise them on the spot.”
He stops, foot halfway to the next step down as he says that. Sausage continue on down the winding staircase for a few seconds, before realising he’s no longer being followed and glancing backwards. “She won't do that to you,” he says, “I promise.”
“And if she does it before you can intervene?” He starts to follow him again, footsteps even quieter than before.
“You won't get hurt. How about this,” Sausage turns to face him, hand held out, “Until you go back to Scott and Jimmy, I promise to protect you with my life and ensure no harm comes to you. That good?”
“And what do I have to do for that?” He crosses his arms, staring at Sausage’s extended hand.
“Absolutely nothing!” Sausage grins. “I think Scott would kill me if I charged you anything.” He wiggles his fingers a little, and he gives in, slowly shaking the other’s hand. He’s surprisingly warm, for just coming in out of the cold. But his skin still seems to radiate heat.
“Her study is just around the corner, and her hat should be in there.” Sausage continues on down the stairs as though nothing ever happened, and he follows him, confused as to what motivations this man might have.
He’s found the hat within seconds, and when he lays his eyes on it, he’s not actually surprised by how little time it took him. “That’s fucking massive.”
“That’s what she said.” Sausage laughs at his own joke, before shoving the hat towards him. “Put it on, put it on!” He’s practically bouncing in spot, hands shaking with what he hopes is excitement.
He takes the hat from him cautiously, peering inside it first, before slowly putting it on. Instantly, it slips over his eyes, covering his vision completely and leaving him in the dark. It’s also surprisingly heavy, limiting his movements a little as he turns, shoving it back up over his eyes.
“That’s massive on you.” Sausage gasps. “It just covers your face entirely.”
“It’s a massive hat.” He pulls it off, weighing it in his hands, “I’d expect it to be massive on anyone.”
“But it’s extra massive on you.” Sausage takes the hat back when he offers it, placing it upon his own head. Annoyingly enough, the hat doesn't slip down over his entire face in the same way it had with him. Instead, it only slips down to cover his eyebrows, leaving him looking incredibly stupid as he grins at him.
He turns away from Sausage, leaving him to mess around with the hat. The rest of the room, however, had caught his eye.
Various papers are pinned to the walls, pieces of string linking them together. It looks slightly like a conspiracy board, the only difference being the lack of red string, purple string taking its place instead.
“She’s trying to figure out how you got into the server.” Sausage appears behind him, making him jump at the sudden voice beside his ear. “It’s not going great, from what I've heard, but she’s working on the theory between inter-server travel, trying to figure out how you might have stumbled into ours.”
“She probably has more of an idea on it than I do.” It was mostly just emptiness when he tried to think about it. A vast expanse of nothingness that seemed to stretch on forever, until it didn't, and he was suddenly on a mountain too densely populated to be on his own server.
His eyes drift to the book lying open beneath the notes, and he picks it up, reading through the page. “She’s studying the actual magic behind portals, by the look of it.” He shows the book to Sausage, who takes it from his hands, reading through the page, eyes flicking across it quickly.
“Ooh.” He grins, looking up at him. “This is really cool. Look, it says here that there are no ingredients for the spell, only an incantation and a thought of what server you want.”
“My server really isn't that great.” He adds, “So many wars, a bunch of them. Not to mention Doomsday, or Pandora’s Vault. There were so many withers that day, and he just kept on releasing them. And then the tnt, it was like rain there was so much of it.”
Sausage is nodding along, even as his eyes focus on the page, his lips moving with barely a word. “God, Pandora’s Vault is horrible,” he shivers, “Inside and out. The inside is nothing but lava and endless corridors of obsidian. It’s crying obsidian too - who builds out of fucking crying obsidian? Sam, apparently, but it was so annoying, you’d be trying to sleep and then some of it would splash on your face and you’d be so suddenly awake.”
Sausage continues to nod along with what he’s saying, and he’s not even sure he’s listening at this point, too wrapped up in whatever he’s saying.
“And the outside?” He barrels on, “Don't even get me started on it. It’s just so incredibly depressing, you know? It’s put in the middle of the water, and it always seems to be raining or cloudy when you go near it. And the elder guardians there are always watching, and you can hear them, even when you're far away from the prison, and they're just always-”
He stops, and Sausage looks up, watching him. He had been listening, then. “What’s up?” He asks, continuing to stare at him.
He doesn't stare back at Sausage, eyes fixed on the wall just behind him. He takes a slow step back, and Sausage turns to stare where he’s staring.
There’s a portal on the opposite wall, all swirling colours but nothing at the same time. It’s as though his eyes can see the colours but his brain can't put a name to them, leaving them nameless and formless, simply swirling around and around and around, in an almost hypnotic pattern.
His clothes tug him towards the portal a little, and he watches as Sausage stumbles too, being dragged towards it in a similar fashion to him. Their eyes meet, and Sausage’s are wide with fear, all his joking smiles wiped clean off his face.
He’s looking away a second later, fishing a comm from his pocket and beginning to tap away at the screen. Whatever he types is a short message, because he’s tucking it away again a few seconds later, forcing his way over to him.
“This isn't looking good.” He says, almost shouting to be heard over the sound of the portal’s nothingness. “I've sent a message to Scott, but I really doubt he’ll be here soon enough.” he grabs onto his shirt sleeve, pulling him closer.
He allows himself to be pulled, focusing on that rather than the pull of the portal. He allows himself, rather begrudgingly, to be bundled against Sausage’s chest, the man’s arms wrapped tightly around him. He’s not a child , he can take care of himself.
Though, the hold is nice, especially as the portal sucks them into its cold nothingness, swirling them around in the ice. Portals are never this cold, and he shudders, closing his eyes tight against the swirling, clinging closer to Sausage’s cape.
It spits them out, rather unceremoniously, onto hard ground. The skies above them are drizzling rain, small spatters landing on his face as he attempts to blink the nothingness from his eyes.
There’s a ringing in his ears when he does manage to blink his eyes free of the haze that seems to have settled over them. It hammers at his head, and he groans, clutching at it and curling in on himself. The aching in his head fades, but the ringing continues, devolving into more of a wailing sound as the sirens continue to blare.
“Oh my god.” He gasps, chest shuddering. And he feels like he’s about to cry. “He’s out. He actually got out.”