Part of him debated throwing the glamour back on and pretend like the day didn't happen. But of course- the other hermits would gather and gossip, and Grian's whereabouts were bound to be spilled by accident. And when Scar would find Grian again, it was sure to end in a fight.

So he simply flew, leaving behind the jungle and his manor for now, smiling at the feeling of being free. He didn't have to hide anymore, paranoia making him check over his shoulder out of fear of being found out. Grian thought he played the part well, keeping his secret safe.

He had thought that secrets stayed buried once no one was around to tell them, but apparently not. Or maybe he was just careless. Too suspicious- too inhuman to fit in.

Grian laughed.
Of course he didn't fit in with the humans. He wasn't one. Fooling himself to even try was a sisyphean task. Someone would eventually find out, and lo and behold, that's exactly what happened.

He sighed. It was nice while it lasted, at least. Having friends to laugh about with felt almost like his court. The halls were always full of laughter and mirth, easy smiles passed from faerie to faerie.
It made forgetting what the Unseelie court did easier. The noise kept the memories at bay, locked tight in their own corner of his mind.

And now he was alone and the thoughts crept back, slowly at first until the floodgates opened and it all came rushing at him.

In a bid to gain control, Thorn had ordered the Seelie Queen to be killed. That's where it all started. So it was the Unseelie's fault, really. They couldn't be trusted.

They found their Queen, immobile and wingless, hidden from the world in a locked room. Grian had been among the group that found her and discovered she had been poisoned. Naturally, they rushed her back to their healers. They were her best chance of living.

But whatever Feather had been poisoned with, none of the healers could find an antidote- and so their Queen died, forcing the two courts to become one again, with the Unseelie King, Thorn, in charge.

Naturally none of the Seelie court wanted to obey, and so they fought back- tried to get someone to step up as the new ruler of the Seelie court to contest Thorn.

No one did.
And Grian watched as his friends were forced to submit, flee, or die.
A familiar face flashed in his mind as he watched it contort in pain as a guard tore their wings off, leaving them flightless.

Grian winced, closing his eyes at the vision and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He wiped his eyes, distantly aware that he was crying.

He'd blame them on the rising sun, he thought with a bitter smile.

Well. He wasn't lying- he could blame his tears on the sunrise. That was a perfectly reasonable thing to do at midnight.

Right?