Chapter Text
Parrot sat hunched in the centre of the mattress, papers that resembled charts and atlas's sprawled in front of him, dried ink that spilt from whenever it was written stained the corners of the old papyrus.
The room had fallen silent for many moments, the flickering of the warm candlelight on the bedside was the only thing slightly illuminating the otherwise black perimeter. The large arched window had been flung open, the night summer air infultrating the chilly air inside the castle.
Outside, a balmy, warm breeze sifted through the curtains and fluttered the candlelight against the wax. The only sounds that suggested the night was alive was the steady, hypnotic hum of cicadas and crickets.
Theo sat on the mattress, his back pressed against the bedstead, observing his friend's fixed eyes on the papers, clearly mulling many things over in his head.
"What have you even been doing for this long?" Theo snickered, shattering Parrot's flow.
Theo felt Parrot's weight shift against the covers, and each move he made looked tiresome against the warm candlelight settling on his shoulders.
"I'm trying to figure out where Cindercrest is most likely going to attack next, bro." He faltered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.
All throughout these past few days, Theo had noticed the growing sense of dread that seemed to fill his friend—how low his lids would fall over his eyes even when he was awake, and how he always had this expression on his face that was filled to the brim with sorrow.
Theo let out a shuddering sigh as he thought about it. The truth is, Theo was just as scared—terrified, even. Every time he closed his eyes, he could only picture the vile, yellow eyes that stared so intently he would think he was staring a corpse had he not known it was Billy.
"Billy…" he thought, his throat closing up, as if the name was an insect that had set foot in a venus fly-trap, and had closed up, trapping the name within his throat, lodging it between his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.
All Theo could picture was Billy, yet, another face filtered through his paranoia and made it's appearance. He imagined Flame—the one he himself had agreed to train, only to have his own teachings used against him when in battle.
There was a kind of irony in it that left a bad taste on his tongue. Maybe that was how Billy had felt.
Theo sighed sharply. Parrot already had too much on his shoulders, and he could only do so much at once. He needed a break; but the avian knew the latter would never agree to it himself. And so, he took matters in his own hands.
"Dude, you've been doing too much already. You need to take a break for a little bit."
"Theo, do you hear yourself? I can't just take a break, Cindercrest could be plotting their next move at any moment—"
"Parrot, I know," Theo interrupted "I know this is important, okay, but if you don't take a break it's just going to get worse. If you take a short break, you'll at least freshen up a bit before you continue."
A sharp sigh escaped the conures lips.
"Theo, I can't—"
"Please, Parrot, just do it."
Parrot shot a dull glance behind him where Theo sat before gathering the atlas's from in front of him and stacking them neatly atop one another, the candlelight fickering violently at the breeze the papers had sent hurdling towards the wax cylinder.
"Fine." He shot.
"Thank you." Theo sighed.
The constant pestering Theo had pushed reminded Parrot a lot of Wifies. How he'd feel soft hands drape across his shoulders and trace the corners of his feathers, followed by gentle requests to drink water, and get enough rest. Almost always had Parrot gave in to his advice, and done what he was told. But now that Wifies was gone, those gentle touches and whispered suggestions had been replaced with caloused fingers, rough against his own, and frustrated pleads to do basic things he could do himself without reminder—and yet chooses not to.
Parrot froze and blinked away his thoughts. He'd always had a habit of superimposing Theo's actions onto the hazy memories of Wifies. Wifies had always managed to seep his way through the cracks of Parrot's memory, but just barely. Every time Parrot would close his eyes to try to feel the false warmth he had once remembered, light rays from the eye of heaven would shine too brightly, blinding his retnas and englufing the face of the one he tried to remember in white.
However, as disappointed as he was, the image of Wifies consumed by white didn't bother him as much as he wanted to admit. It was a moment frozen in time where he was untainted by the war that constantly surrounded them, purity swallowing him in a hole of light.
"What do you even want me to do?" Parrot scorned.
"Dude, I don't know, just do something other than worrying about Cindercrest." Theo rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh.
Parrot groaned. "You're the one who wanted me to take a break."
Theo remained silent. His eyes wandered down Parrot's shoulders and made their way to his wings; his feathers dull and worn, extremely noticable, even against the dim candlelight. His flight feathers had only now started to grow back, and Theo was never informed on how they had gotten clipped in the first place. But it was okay. He'd wait as long as he needed to. Theo shifted for a moment before he asked, his voice serene amongst the chirping crickets.
"can I preen your wings?"
Theo felt Parrot freeze for a moment, his shoulder tense and strained, the light scattering upon the geometry of his arms. Theo didn't know why, but Parrot always had this reaction for a few seconds before answering. He was unfathomably curious as to why.
"Uhh… sure." He croaked.
It wasn't very often Theo got the opportunity to thoroughly clean out Parrot's wings, but now was certainly a perfect time.
The room had grown humid from the open window—warm, and full of tiny sounds the night had released that only could be heard because everything else had gone still. The candlewax from the lit flame silently dripped and solidifed on the cold metal tray it was placed on.
Parrot shifted, sitting cross-legged on the mattress, shoulders hunched forward beneath the massive sweep of his maddened wings. They were beautiful wings, though he clearly wasn’t in the mood to hear that right now.
Dark green feathers layered over lighter red ones beneath, broad enough to cast shadows across the floor. Usually he kept them tucked close. Tonight they looked especially tired and slightly puffed, one side drooped lower than the other.
Theo sat behind him with complete concentration, fingers gliding across the keratin before burying carefully in the feathers.
“There,” Theo murmured. “See? This one was bent.”
Parrot groaned dramatically. “I knew it.”
“You did not know it, bro.”
“I sensed it, they're my feathers.”
Theo sighed and snickered. Parrot let the corners of his mouth drop into an annoyed frown.
“My wings hate me.”
The cockatiel clicked his tongue. “Your wings are fine. You’re the one running yourself into the ground.”
“Bro, I literally don't.”
“Yes, you literally do.”
Theo gently separated another section of feathers, smoothing them down one by one. The movements were slow and methodical, careful not to tug too hard. Parrot visibly relaxed despite himself, shoulders loosening by tiny increments every few seconds.
Theo had wished preening Parrot would become a routine the two would follow, but it had always gone pushed to the side, even before the war with Cindercrest.
At first, Parrot had been embarrassed by the thought of letting someone other than Wifies preen his wings. Wings were sensitive, and intimate in a way hands or hair weren’t. Letting someone touch them required trust, and who better would understand than another avian.
Now, though, whenever he got overwhelmed, he would mysteriously appear within arm’s reach of Theo and pretend he had absolutely no reason for doing so.
Theo smiled faintly to himself.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Theo said.
“What thing?”
“The stress-spiraling thing.”
“I’m not spiraling.”
“I genuinely never see you sleep before me.”
“It's 'cause I'm busy trying to make sure we don't die, bro.”
“Dude, why can't you ever just let me do the planning for once instead?”
“Bro—because you can barely spell my name, how can i expect you to plan?”
Theo laughed softly.
Parrot tried very hard not to smile, which only made the corners of his mouth twitch harder.
“You’re genuinely a bum, bro.” he muttered.
Theo continued working through the feathers, checking for loose down caught beneath the larger layers. His fingers occasionally brushed against the sensitive base of the wing, earning small involuntary shivers from Parrot.
“Sorry,” Theo said automatically.
“No, you're good.” he paused. “Actually, do that again.”
Theo snorted. “I guess you kind of can sense things.”
“Shut up, bro.”
Theo obliged anyway, scratching lightly near the base where the feathers were densest.
The conure made a sound that was far too pleased for someone who had spent the evening with their eyes strained on a war map.
Theo grinned. “There he is!”
“Bro, I swear if you don't—”
“Okay, Okay.”
For a while, silence settled comfortably between them again.
A warm summer breeze filtered through the curtains like a teabag. The room smelled faintly of jasmine and electricity, expected due to the summer heat. Parrot’s wings shifted occasionally beneath Theo’s hands with soft rustling sounds.
Eventually Theo asked, gentler this time, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Parrot hesitated. He always had when it came to Theo. His feathers puffed slightly.
“Everything just feels…” He exhaled slowly. “Too much.”
Theo listened quietly.
“I know everyone keeps saying I’m handling things fine, but I’m exhausted all the time. And every time I finish one problem, five more appear immediately after.” He laughed weakly. “I’m starting to think, like, a god is out to get me or something."
Theo winced sympathetically. “Damn, what sins did you commit?”
“Literally none, bro.”
“Are you the next Job or something?”
“Bro, no.”
Theo finally pulled a real laugh out of him. It burst out unexpectedly, warm and rough around the edges.
Theo smiled at the sound.
“There you go,” He said, voice full of joy.
Parrot shook his head. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Distract me before I can fully commit to being miserable.”
“Dude, somebody has to defend the castle from your theatrics.”
“Genuinely, what theatrics do I possibly do, bro.”
“Your theatrics are staying up all night staring at useless maps.”
“Bro, I stay up so that I can plan our strategies." He scoffed before muttering something incoherent under his breath.
Theo reached forward and gently tugged one of the larger feathers straight. “You know,” he said casually, “If you got enough rest, then maybe you'd make better plans.”
“I don't have time for a lot of rest, Bro.”
“Bro, you say that and then basically pass out when you lay down.”
"Dude, you are such a moron."
Theo laughed again, brighter this time, and Parrot finally smiled fully, and it seemed to have transformed him. The tension left his face first, then his posture, then even his wings seemed to settle. The feathers smoothed naturally beneath Theo’s hands, sleek and glossy again instead of ruffled with stress. He admired them quietly for a moment.
“What?” Parrot asked without turning around.
“Nothing.”
“You were like, quiet for a sec.”
Theo hummed innocently.
“You’re judging me, aren’t you?”
“I was actually thinking your wings look nice in the candlelight.”
Parrot froze, and the tips of his wings twitched. Theo noticed immediately and smiled to himself. He could barely make it out, but he had remembered Wifies had said something along the lines of that in the past.
“We should do this more often,” He said. “I could do it while you work, so you don't have to waste your precious planning time.”
Parrot stayed silent for a moment. “Uhm… alright, sure.”
“Good, I was gonna do it anyway.”
Parrot scoffed a laugh, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eyes.
Theo leaned forward slightly, resting his chin briefly against the conure's shoulder while still smoothing the feathers. “I just don't want you to overwork yourself.”
“I'm trying not to.”
“And you’re doing great.”
“That is not the compliment you think it is, bro.” Parrot huffed a laugh. Then, after a quieter moment, he admitted softly, “Thanks.”
Theo’s hands slowed. “For what?”
“For this.” He gestured vaguely with one wing. “For… staying.”
The joke in the room faded, replaced by something gentler. Theo answered immediately, like there had never been another option. “Of course I’m staying.”
Parrot stared at the bedstead in front of him for a long moment—his wings relaxed fully then, unfurling just slightly beneath Theo’s hands in unconscious trust. Theo continued preening carefully, untangling the last stubborn feathers near the edge.
“You missed a spot,” Parrot said after a while.
“I absolutely did not.”
“Left side.”
Theo narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re making things up for attention.”
“Am not.”
“You just want me to keep going.”
Parrot tilted his head back enough to look at him upside down, entirely unashamed now. “Maybe.”
Theo pretended to think about it. “Hmmmm...”
"Bro, stop." Parrot chuckled
The cockatiel giggled.
“But are you going to keep preening my wings?”
Theo smiled warmly and reached for the left wing again. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I am.”
Parrot was still laughing when the room settled back into warmth again—just little lingering laughs under his breath every few seconds while Theo absentmindedly smoothed the last few feathers near the edge of his wing.
One of Parrot’s wings remained stretched across Theo’s lap while the other remained rested hunched-over on the mattress, feathers catching the amber candlelight whenever he moved.
Theo leaned back against the bedstead with a quiet sigh. “There. Done.”
Parrot flexed his wing experimentally. The feathers slid smoothly together now instead of catching awkwardly against each other.
“Oh, that’s so much better.”
“I know.” Theo looked smug.
“You look very pleased with yourself.”
“I told you, bro, all you needed was a break.”
Parrot rolled his eyes, though fondly this time, and shifted until he was slumped sideways against Theo’s legs. He looked far less tense now; still tired, still worn down around the edges, but softer somehow. Like someone had finally loosened a knot. Theo idly played with one of the smaller feathers near the base of his wing while Parrot stared violently in front of him, then his eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Wait.”
Theo immediately looked suspicious. “What're you thinkin'?”
Parrot gestured toward a cluttered little tray sitting beside the leg of the bed, full of wires, tiny metal cylinders, folded scraps of paper covered in notes, and several small tools Theo had apparently abandoned there earlier.
“You never really answered my question yesterday.”
“What question?”
“How you make your explosives.”
Theo blinked once, then slowly looked toward the tray. “…Ah.”
Parrot leaned his head back against Theo and gazed up at him. “You just casually have bottles of redstone next to the bed.”
Theo laughed softly, and Parrot reached toward the tray curiously. Theo instantly smacked his hand away without even looking.
“No.”
“I wasn’t touching anything.”
“You were absolutely about to touch something.”
“I was just looking, bro.”
“You look with your hands like a raccoon.”
Parrot snickered before his curiosity returned. “So how do you make them?”
Theo studied him for a moment. The genuine interest in Parrot’s face made him smile a little despite his urges to gatekeep. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, bro, hurry.”
“You promise not to immediately try making one yourself?”
Parrot hesitated, Theo narrowed his eyes. “Wrong answer.”
“I was just thinking, bro.”
“You were not.” Theo snorted, reached across the mattress, and lifted the tray onto the bed. “Okay. Fine.”
Parrot immediately perked up, Theo noticed and laughed quietly. “You look so excited.”
“I still can't believe you make your own bombs for carting, bro.”
“Dude, why, it's simple." Theo conceeded with a dramatic sigh. “Alright,” He said, picking up one of the tiny metal cylinders. “Most of it honestly isn’t that different from crafting TNT.”
“Why can't you just use TNT, then.”
“This specific way has, like, a chemistrytry thing that makes the blast stronger.”
“Bro, you can't even spell my name and you're over here talking about chemistry.” Parrot snickered as he leaned closer while Theo rotated the little cylinder between his fingers.
“You know what most people imagine?” Theo continued. “They think making explosives means dumping redstone and gunpowder together and hoping for the best.”
“…Is that not what you do?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “No, bro, that’s how you blow yourself up.”
Parrot nodded solemnly. “Alright…”
Theo grabbed a folded paper from the tray and opened it across his knee, the papyrus filled with handwritten diagrams covered the page. Parrot blinked. “You diagram them?”
“Of course I diagram them.” Theo scoffed
“Bro, you cannot be this dumb and this smart at the same time.”
Theo rolled his eyes before he continued. “You need to measure these things out,” He said simply. “Tiny measurements can change lots of stuff.”
Parrot watched as the cockatiel pointed out different components on the paper, and compared them to the objects on the tray.
“This controls timing. This affects pressure buildup. This part can change whether it flashes, smokes, sparks, or—”
“You can customize explosions for carting?”
Theo slowly turned to stare at him. “That was the worst way you could've possibly phrased that, bro.”
“But technically yes?”
Theo sighed. “…Technically yes.”
Parrot looked delighted. Theo laughed under his breath at the expression on his face.
“Y'know,” Parrot said thoughtfully, “you get really focused when you talk about this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You like,” The conure gestured vaguely toward Theo's face. “You stop looking tired.”
The cockatiel paused slightly. “Oh.”
“You look happier.”
For a moment, Theo just stared down at the little components in his hands before he shrugged one shoulder. “I like making things.”
“And yet you still can't spell my name."
“Bro, okay, I get it, I'll work on that.” Theo chuckled
“So, what, do you just throw these instead of TNT in a cart when you're fighting? ”
“Kind of…? There's like, a lot of other things to it.”
“Why do you need to bow it with flaming arrows if it just explodes anyway?”
"Bro, you're asking too many questions, I don't know everything." Theo jeered.
“But like, wouldn't that be extra steps?”
“No,” Theo shook his head. "Well, kind of, but the flaming arrow ignites it better since it's fire. I don't need to bow it."
“Huh…"
Theo reached for another small component from the tray. “This part’s actually my favorite.”
“What does it do?”
“Creates the ignition spark.”
Parrot watched closely as Theo demonstrated how the tiny mechanism clicked together. He noticed how Theo's hands moved confidently across the cold metal, fingers intertwining around each component. Parrot immediately noticed how careful his nails danced across the wires, taps clinking against them.
“You’re really cautious with this stuff.”
Theo glanced up. “Obviously.”
“I guess I expected more chaos.” He muttered.
“Bro, you think I'm like, crazy or something.”
“You are crazy, dude.”
Theo sneered for a moment before he folded the diagram back up, placing it against the tray. Parrot's eyes narrowed across the tray, and noticed a few crayons rolled onto the side of the metal, worn down and clearly used.
"What're the crayons for?" Parrot inquired.
"I like to…" He hesitated, wincing in embarrassment. "…draw little designs on them before I use it."
Parrot snorted before covering his mouth, holding in his laughter.
'Bro—dude, c'mon man—" Theo sighed before Parrot's laughter erupted from his chest.
"No, bro, it's not that its just—like—" He grinned wildly before laughter overtook his lungs once again.
Theo's gaze locked on Parrot's dying giggles before he shook his head, his own snicker escaping his mouth. "Dude," he snorted.
"Alright dude, my bad." Parrot sniveled, grin still wide as he wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm, small pieces of laughter still shooting out of him under his breath.
"But yeah, that's basically it." Theo sighed, small mechanisms clattering against the tray as he lifted it, and shoved it beneath the bedstead. He breathed in for a moment. He hadn't realized just how exhausted he truly felt until the humor between the two avians died down. He sprawled across the duvet, wings stretching violentely against the mattress.
"Parrot?" he called.
"Yeah?"
"You promise we'll do this every day from now on?" Theo whispered. "Just until this whole thing with Cindercrest is over?"
Parrot hesitated for a moment, before he answered, voice feeble among the cicadas chatter from the open window.
"Yeah." He muttered.
"I promise."