When he first stumbled into the world, he had his wings, his smirk, and his aversion to iron.

The first two could easily be explained away...the last one often threw the other hermits for a loop- iron was in practically everything. So when Grian died a lot in the beginning of the week and stuck with leather armour that he dyed fun colours, everyone chalked it up to a weird quirk. The guy preferred leather because it could be dyed bright pink. Sure why not.

But when he had to ask for help placing a cauldron, or a piston, or anvils, or winced when someone hit him with an iron sword for the head hunt Cleo set up, that was when they started to get suspicious.

Of course- they never asked. Doing so would be rude.
But then Larry suddenly grew a moustache and Mumbos base suddenly blinked under a mop of sandy blond hair, well. Grian did have a reputation of pranking- naturally it'd be tied back to him.

And when Scar and Mumbo came to ask what was up, well... the fae cannot lie after all. So he just didn't say anything as he flew off to gather more resources, a small smirk on his lips. As he flew away on dragonfly-like wings, Scar shot Mumbo a look- that maybe things were more than just a weird quirk.

Grian managed handling iron- see- he wrapped his hands in vines as he held his pickaxe, just in case the iron accidentally hit his skin. Which would likely strike the others as odd but then again, Grian didn't really mine with anyone else so he shouldn't get caught. The vines made it awkward and unwieldy to mine, but if he could do it to gather diamonds, then by god he'd do it.

He just needed to find diamonds was all. Then he'd be in the clear- carrying diamond gear was normal. He wouldn't be seen as weird for avoiding iron as much as he did.

As he got back to his hobbit hole (how funny it was- a faerie living in the ground) and tossed his iron pick aside and the vines in a composter, he didn't bother putting the materials he gathered away. He just flopped into bed and waited to fall asleep.

Which is why the sound of redstone firing was very confusing. Not to mention being ejected out of bed, but suddenly finding oneself in an iron bar prison was startling enough.

"Did we get him?"

"I mean, I think so? I dunno who else would sleep in his bed."

The sound of footsteps shuffled around him. He saw a familiar moustached face peer in between the bars as Scar poked his head around Mumbo.
"Yeah it's him."

Grian frowned at the muffled voices, a hand pressing against the a bar before he recoiled in shock.
They trapped him.
In iron bars, no less.

Maybe it was because Mumbo had an excess? Yeah, that had to be it- they didn't know he wasn't human.

And then the runes lit up.

Ah crap.