Grian tiredly tiptoed across the dirt scaffold he was using to build the sand castle. Scar had been mercifully silent, letting Grian work... but letting Grian work he most certainly was.

Grian had tried to take a break earlier- it had not gone well.

"What are you doing?" Scar snapped, glaring down at Grian who was fishing around in the chests lazily.

"Taking a break..?" Grian explained, confused as to why this was a problem.

"Why do you need to take breaks?" Scar asked, as if it was a sign of weakness.

"Well, it gets tiring-" Grian began.

"Good, that's your job," Scar told him. "You work for me now, you promised."

"But I didn't mean this kind of work- with no breaks and..." Grian tried to protest.

Scar sighed. "Aw, are you backing out? But it's so fun here with you! Don't leave."

"No- no, sorry Scar," Grian apologized. "I'm sorry, it's my job."

Grian wondered why he'd given in so easily. But it was easy to think that up here, away from Scar, where he had space from him. It was his job, right? He'd volunteered. 

But didn't he need breaks, usually?

Well, maybe he just didn't. He could get by without them. So he would. And he wouldn't leave Scar.

Should he? No- he'd promised!

"What are you doing up there?" Scar called suspiciously.

"Working!" Grian called back, shaking himself out of his thoughts and resuming the repetitive task of placing blocks.

Grian was almost done with the tower when the block beneath him vanished from under his feet.

"Scar!" Grian screamed in surprise as he fell, but spread his wings and began to glide down. Suddenly pain shot through his wing and he dropped quickly and harshly to the sand below.

"What-" he choked out, tears of pain blurring his vision.

"Oh no oh no oh no!" Scar's voice rang through the haze above him. "There was a skeleton- I killed it for you."

"Thank- you-" Grian managed, spikes of agony shooting through his wing and leg.

"Oh no, what do I do-" Scar asked. If Grian had been able to focus on anything, he would have noticed Scar's clear lack of concern.

Grian squeaked weakly and unhelpfully.

Scar's arms wrapped around Grian and he felt Scar stand up and started walking. Every motion sent another jolt of pain through his wing and Grian barely managed not to start whimpering.

"Scar- hurts- help-" Grian pleaded.

"I know, I know!" Scar said in fake panic- although Grian didn't realize the obvious lie.

Finally, Scar set him down and Grian lay on the hard ground trying not to scream in agony. He lost track of how long he lay there, but Scar never came back.

Grian opened his eyes to red.

So much red.

All over.

The storage room he was laying limply in was painted red.

Red with his blood.

Grian sat up stiffly and felt a throb in his wing again. Spots danced across his eyes.

Huh, that probably wasn't good.

"Grian, are you awake?" Scar called.

"Yes, Scar," Grian replied, surprised to find his voice so timid.

"Good," Scar replied. "I thought you were experienced, not to get too hurt from a single skeleton."

"But how did the skeleton shoot me at the perfect time?" Grian wondered.

A shadow passed over Scar's face, then vanished. "I don't know. Come on, though."

"Okay." Grian tried to stand, taking two attempts and then swaying when he managed to.

"What's up with you?" Scar asked.

"Nothing, Scar," Grian answered quickly. His head felt hot and his vision blurred into white but he followed Scar outside, where the world reappeared and he felt more normal again- except for the aching pain in his wing and leg, of course.

Scar turned and surveyed him. "You're limping?"

"No, I'm fine," Grian straightened up, not sure why he wasn't telling Scar how horrible he felt, but knowing he couldn't.

"You sure?" Scar squinted at him.

"Yeah, yeah," Grian dismissed him.

"Alright, well we need wood, so could you gather that?" Scar asked.

"Yes, Scar," Grian began to make his way down the stairs. Halfway down, he stepped on his leg too hard, sending a spike of pain through it. He collapsed on it and tumbled down the rest of the stairs. He landed groaning and aching, but stood up and kept going, his limp deeply worsened.

About thirty minutes into his wood-chopping session, Scott and Jimmy came to visit.

"Hey Grian," Scott greeted cheerfully.

Grian nodded at him, trying to give them a smile and gesture that he didn't want to talk. They weren't having it.

"Grian, you okay?" Jimmy asked.

"Fine," Grian answered shortly, shuffling around the tree.

"Grian?" Scott asked, fixing him with a confused and concerned stare.

"I'm fine, you can go talk to Scar," Grian told them.

"We wanna talk to you, though," Jimmy explained.

"No, no, you don't need to talk to me, go talk to Scar," Grian repeated.

"Grian... what's going on?" Scott pressed.

"I'm fine! Please! Go talk to him!" Grian burst out.

Scott and Jimmy exchanged a look. "No, no, I'm fine, really, go talk to Scar."

"Grian, you don't seem okay," Scott told him.

"I'm fine!" Panic crept into his voice. "Please, please leave, please go talk to him."

"Grian, we're your friends, and you're-" Scott began to inform him, but Scar interrupted them.

"What are you doing down there, Grian?" he yelled.

"I tried to tell them to talk to you but they won't listen!" Grian called back.

"Uh-huh," Scar seemed unconvinced. "Come on, listen to him then."

Scott and Jimmy reluctantly joined Scar atop the mountain. "Are you sure he's okay?" Jimmy asked.

"He's just been odd lately," Scar shrugged. "Anyway-"

"Scar, why was he limping?" Scott interrupted.

Scar grunted in annoyance but answered. "He was building the tower and a skeleton shot him off and broke his leg."

"That seems a bit odd, don't you think?" Scott wondered.

"That's what I said, it was strange," Scar agreed.

"Almost suspiciously strange," Jimmy commented.

"Guys, really, it was just bad luck-" Scar insisted.

"Scar, why was Grian so scared?" Scott asked.

"Look, I don't-" Scar tried to say. Scott and Jimmy were not having it.

"Scar why did he tell us to go talk to you? Why was he insisting he was fine when he clearly wasn't?" Jimmy pressed.

"Ugh, go away!" Scar burst out frustratedly. "Stop asking me questions!"

Scott and Jimmy exchanged a smug grin. "But we like asking questions, Scar," Scott told him.

"Well- I don't wanna ally with you, so go away or I'll make Grian get the bucket," Scar growled, dropping the act.

"So that's how it is?" Scott inquired.

"Yes," Scar hissed. "Now go."

"Ok, but we're taking Grian."

"No."

"Mhm, he's coming with us."

"You will regret it if you do."

"Sure. Whatever you say, Scar."

"He won't go with."

Scar was unfortunately correct.

No matter how much Scott and Jimmy tried, Grian simply refused to go with them, finally crying out, "No, I can't leave Scar, I promised, and I'm fine, and go away!" and limping up towards Scar weakly. Scar's smug smirk was visible even from far below, and the flower hobbits reluctantly left Grian alone... with Scar.

"You let them see how weak you are," Scar growled once Grian had made it up the stairs. "And oh, how weak you are now."

"I'm sorry, I-" Grian forlornly attempted to argue one final time.

"How weak you are," Scar hissed, and with a simple gesture pushed Grian back down the mountain.

Grian collapsed in exhaustion and pain and lay still at the bottom of the stairs. Scar stalked down them, grabbed him, and dragged his broken but breathing body up into the castle.

Grian's shaky breaths proved his life, but he wouldn't have it for much longer with Scar around.