Moiety [1/2] (Fantasy AU!Jean x reader)

It's not easy being the son of a famous war hero. Ever since he was a young boy the shadow that casted over Jean hung, staying quite fixated even as we speak despite his growing success in his own field, taming. 

His interest in it began during one of the short expeditions around the town’s forest where he’d take his childhood friend during the early years of their lives.

These little excursions were his mind’s way of temporarily escaping the burden inflicted to him by his family. Jean was the troubled child who constantly fought with his parents while Marco kept at his side, understanding the neglect and pressure that taxed on Jean’s surprisingly innocent conscious.

It was on a spring day when they first encountered the strange thing. Marco had just found Jean while playing an intense round of cops-and-robbers. The miniature cliff-like structure the short, damaged hill made was an obvious and predictable hiding spot amongst the generally flat terrain.

In the midst of their roughhousing over whether or not Marco cheated, something came up on that same hill. The silhouette greatly resembled that of a horse, but the shape that protruded out from the area they guessed to be the head told them what it really was.

The young boys quickly got up and peaked over to see nothing but the dull, lush vegetation of the forest, hearing the sound of rustling from an area far-off from their location.

They both knew that they needed to see it again and after weeks of trying to find it, or even just trying to catch a glimpse it, their efforts finally paid off. There in the distance they saw a white, glowing mane that swept gracefully off to one side. The single horn that sat upon its skull radiated a soft spectrum of living colors that floated from within it. The two would never forget how the unicorn proudly stood, completely aware of the sets of eyes that gawked in wonder at its appearance, yet staring them back down without any fear.

Creatures such as that now no longer exist within human perception. Guilds around the area went crazy. Capturing, trading and selling the magical beings off to the highest bidder for entertainment, weapons, ingredients or for their own personal collection. This left the ones who hadn't any magical properties to prosper.

The present Jean sighs, sitting on one of the stools that lined the bar. His most recent conversation with his mother was yet another one to add to the book. The expectations his recently deceased father brought on him only made his situation with her worse.

He didn’t bother himself any further with the woman. There were more important things at hand that he needed to take care of. He was here to meet back up with Marco who called him out without any prior notice and since he was at a bar, the young man didn’t see what was wrong with getting a drink or two into his system.

The familiar jingle of the tiny bell that hung on the doorframe snapped his attention towards the older form of his best friend. The raven haired boy waved and walked over, taking the stool that Jean had saved.

“What’s up?” Jean asked, wiping off the cool condensation that gathered on his glass.

"So I was hanging around the market place when I heard that a centauride has been spotted in the forest near the shore," Marco enthusiastically keened, taking out his knife and running a sharpening rock along the edge of the blade.

This bar was the place where people of all aspects of society came, well minus the rich, upper class, to get special temp jobs, most of them being from army officials who paid heavy for creatures that could be used for fighting. 

Jean and Marco were the ones who men brought their hauls too, training the beasts for the right amount of silver. Once in a while they’d go off and catch one to train, but Marco would prefer to catalogue the specimen in a notebook and set it back free. Jean didn’t mind this too much, he found the current system of trade distasteful and that the process of his work to be more enjoyable than the outcome.

"Common. We've been around millions." He replied with great exaggeration and disinterest. Most of these lady-horses were too, overbearing. Their level of self-awareness brought impossibility to the idea of training due to their great pride in their heritage.

"Rumor has it that this breed came from the alpha origins that kept well hidden from the centuries of hunt.”

 "A rumor is nothing but what it is," Jean shot down the preposterous idea.

"But what if it isn't!" Marco argued, gaining the attention of some of the fellows in the place. Jean flinched, turning his body so that it was facing him.

"Look," Jean reached over to his drink and taking down another swig, "I know you still aren’t over Grif, but what if this wasn't real?"

"We can stop it from happening again. Those monsters don’t understand the value of life. They find out a newly hatched Griffin was in town, but do you know what they think? It's not 'this rare creature deserves respect and a chance to revive its dying species', no. It’s about how much money that gets placed into their pockets at the end of a deal." 

Finding an abandoned egg in the forest, Marco took it in. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew the mother wasn’t going to come back. The story was predictable. It hatched and was no doubt a Griffin, one of a dying breed. Marco had planned to raise it and set it free in another territory that would be far from reach but word got out and the griffin, cleverly named Grif, was stolen. He died soon after due to improper care.

"We need to help whatever it is, please Jean, I know you were just as hurt as I was."

The brunette couldn’t say no once his best friend once he had his mind set on something, and Jean had to admit that he felt the same way when Grif was taken.

With a heavy sigh, he agreed, and the next day they were off. By now many of those who have heard of the rumor have long given up, but the amount of sightings kept some there. The two planned this trip to be a long one, so they brought supplies meant for at least three days.

"Where do you think it would be?"

Nowhere near where they'd imagine was the answer to Marco's question. They were as far as any other person by now, following the strange tracks while covering up their own.

They had to climb up trees, run and throw bait around to ward off the dangerous animals that came their way.

Trudging through more and more leaves of the dimly lit forest, the two hadn't notice the sun go down till they heard the soft chorus of crickets begin to sing around them.

"I think it's about time for us to break here for the night. Take the lantern and go gather some firewood for us to cook tomorrow, for now we have bread and meat that looks like it's about ready to spoil so hurry back." 

The ever-so-tired Jean begrudgingly followed, fastening the source of light to his belt and dimming it as to not draw too much attention. The high canopy blocked out most of the moon light that came through, making spotting the boy so much more easily.

It was then that he spotted a clear patch of moonlight where the rich layer of leaves and branches have failed to cover. 

"Thank god for some actual light," he breathed, stepping out into the area. The crickets hushed all at once and silence had befallen the place. He wasn’t sure what Marco was doing, but now that he thinks about it, he might have wandered a bit too far. His brain was too tired to remember to mark his way back.

"Fuck," he cursed his luck, collapsing on the ground, laying down and staring up at the clear, cloudless night sky. He could feel the cool, refreshing winds that shook the leaves.

Honestly, he'd rather sleep right there, but Marco would probably get mad at his sloppiness. Jean grunted, closing his eyes and listening around. Maybe Marco was looking for him right now. He doubted that. It hasn’t been too long, so the boy decided to relax. The silence provided him with a cushion of safety for if anything would come near, but circumstance proved him wrong for an eerie sound came from the brush closest to him, causing him to jolt up. He hadn’t heard anything coming at all.

"Who's there?" He pulled out his knife, holding it in a defensive position as he stood, never once taking his eyes out of that single spot.

Hands appeared beside one of the trees, raised in surrender. Jean couldn’t make out anything but those.

"I-I'm not here to hurt you." The feminine voice caught him off guard. Was she a harpy? He didn’t see any feathers on her arms. A nymph? Maybe a troll?

"It's rude to think a lady a troll," the being spoke again to his bafflement.

"What are?" He was at a loss for words. Whatever this thing was, it had magic, and he hasn’t seen one since he was a kid.

"Me?" A hand pulled back, and a head followed with the missing hand now covering up her forehead.

She was stunning to say the least. Her (e/c) colored eyes reflected the stars and her (h/c) hair caught the moon's luminosity. He couldn't look away from her, caught in a trance.

"As you have probably figured, I'm not human. I just wanted to interject on the idea of being a troll or dwarf, too tall for that." She turned to her side. Jean’s eyes widened as he saw the animalistic other half of her which colors seemed to match her upper, clothed part.

"You’re the centauride of the rumors." She looked questionably at the boy, contemplating his words, but then remembering something.

"Those three men saw me helping that wounded fairy they caught,” she gasped. This centauride was extremely expressive because her expression snapped from surprise to annoyance.

“I was told the spell would go into effect instantly, but I guess their 'instantly' wasn’t quick enough," she sneered with the tone he never heard come out from one of her kind before, clicking her tongue.

He composed himself, still clutching tightly onto the sharp weapon he no longer considered to be effective. She had magic after all.

"Follow the path straight that way," she pointed with her other hand, "you'll find your friend there. He must be pretty worried." And with that and a smile, she vanished. Her lack of presence brought back the crickets.

"Wait!" It was too late, and it would be pointless to go looking around the place, so he went to where the centauride pointed and she was right. There was Marco, counting their supplies.

"Where have you been, and where's the wood?" He questioned with worry clearly painted on his face.

"I saw the centauride,” Jean replied, not bothering with how he looked at the moment.

"What?" He immediately asked, standing up in shock.

"Yeah. I'm not sure what breed she was, but she definitely could use magic." Jean stepped towards the small camp site that Marco had set up, taking a seat on their made-shift beds that laid on the leafy surface, "I got lost then she pointed me back here." 

"We have to find her and tell her," Marco began towards the forest.

"Don’t! I doubt we’ll find her if she doesn’t want to be seen. We have to be patient." Marco sighed, turning back and joining Jean on the other bed he made.

"So we'll try again in the morning right?"

"Yeah, go to sleep Marco," he spoke, "I'll take first watch."

"Don’t be stupid. I know how tired you are."

"I'll wake you up when I'm at my limit alright?" Yup, Jean was just as suborn as Marco.

"Do what you must then," he replied, giving up and soon succumbing to his own fatigue.

The crickets weren’t helping him with his struggle to keep awake. Jean found himself tempted to pass out multiple times but he remembered the last time he did, feeling at the scars on the side of his chin.

"Nothing's going to hurt you, you know." A familiar voice spoke as loud as a whisper from the trees stationed in front of him.

"Wha-" she hushed him in volume. 

"I have to show you something. Come quickly." She looked almost human with her hands out of her face and the lack of hours-like features. The only thing different would be the soft glow that emanated from her and the small, black horn that grew from her forehead.

"Anggitay, here?" He stood, taking hesitant steps towards her. She giggled at his reaction.

"Come on." She motioned hastily for him to follow, turning around and walking back towards a familiar path. She wore a dress that hung loosely around her human body. It looked dirty around the helms, but it did drag on the ground, so it made sense. Her bare feet contrasted the dim underbrush as she took careful, uneven steps.

"Truth is, is that I'm not here by choice." She ducked under a low branch, "When I was born, I was taken from my home overseas and traded off to a collector." 

He saw that she was taking him back to the small area where they first met, staying close as he listened intently.

"I escaped and ran into the forest with nothing but a few, well, deep wounds but the community here took me in. It’s kind of like a village in a way."  They finally reached the lit area as she seemed to have finished.

"But that's not the point, look here," she knelt down in the middle of the area. He followed, kneeling beside her. The grass was surprisingly damp, soaking through the knees of his pants and somehow beginning to get into his socks.

A single dew drop shined and glittered, dropping into a small puddle and illuminating their faces as the water swirled. The liquid looked as if it were weaving around itself, compacting tightly enough to form a tiny body, arms, legs and two slender, crystal-like wings.

"Fairies are born from the energies of the pure hearts of people, and since she's here, I'm guessing you must be one of them." The long, white hair of the delicate looking girl was the last feature to form.

The tiny creature looked at its body then up to the disguised centauride.

"I'm naked. I want a dress like yours" 

"Don’t ask for those things, you are too beautiful to hide under these. What is your name?" She asked.

"I...I'm Flinniel," she answered and turned to Jean, "A human?"

"Don't approach them or you'll lose your freedom," she spoke with a melancholic tone that stirred at some of the guilt within Jean's stomach.

"But isn’t he one?" Flinniel fluttered her wings, floating up with a scratchy start till she reached his eye level while giving him an unsure smile.

"He's special, now go. Remember what I said." 

"I shall keep it locked in my heart and you the key." She bowed to both of them and flew away, leaving small traces of dust behind her.

After what felt like forever, Jean decided to speak up.

"Why did you show me that?" She stared at him, making a strange warmth flow through his body.

"It's a show of trust, and I guess it was because of you that she was born." From kneeling she sat completely unaffected by the dampness of the ground.

"You're in danger here." She scrunched up her face as if she weren’t expecting such an out-of-context reply.

"I know," she unwillingly got up, patting down the little tails that folded up, "But I can well take care of myself."

"Against well-trained men who would be more than willing to tear down this whole forest for the mere price of what you could buy? I don't think so,” he retorted, standing along with her.

"Are they really?" Anger grew apparent in her voice, "What monsters," she huffed, staring into the loving sky. He couldn’t help but remember Marco when she said that.

"I don’t know what to do then. If I stay, they die. If I go, I die,” she exasperatingly sighed, rubbing the dirt off her hands.

"Not if you go with us." She snapped her head towards him, her hair whipping her face as she did. 

“What makes you think that I would go with you when you don’t even know my name?” The mysterious girl raised a brow, shifting her weight onto one foot and giving him an ambiguous look.

“Do you have a choice?” He chuckled, watching her vexed face.

“I’d like to say I do,” she paced back and forth, “but you’re not giving me anymore options are you?”

“Nope.”

“(Y/n).”

“Is that an insult in your language or?”

“It’s my name you muttonhead,” she laughed, shaking her head at him disapprovingly.

“Oh. So then (Y/n), shall we go?” He smiled warmly.

“But what about my horn,” she poked it, twitching her eye a bit. He figured it was a sensitive part, and he shook off any thought that further dug into that.

“Well how did you lose your ass?” He was tenser than usual, doubtlessly hypnotized by her, god, he thought she was beautiful.

“Excuse me?” He could only guess that she’d be blushing right now by the tone.

“You know,” Jean awkwardly gestured, “Your horse half.”

“It’s part of my magic actually,” she stopped her pacing and grinned, “My people would live amongst the humans. Some would breed with them and take the child, which my mother didn’t do,” she turned her back to him, “she used to say that a parent’s duty is to love their child, to take that away from him or her is worse than murder.”

“Not all parents see the way your mother did,” he bitterly spat. (Y/n) stepped towards him and reached her hand towards one of his temples. He froze, her hand was cold yet the spot where it touched felt hot.

“Shame on them,” she frowned. He felt her go through his mind, through his memories, somehow trading them with her own. He knew her mother, her struggles, her…escape, and she knew his. It was evident how she held back on how she escaped, or on little trivial things. In short, he knew what he needed to, and she took from him what seemed to match it.

“Why’d you?”  The girl stepped back and bowed in the same fashion Flinniel did. What she did violated his space right? But judging from her memories, he couldn’t be mad. He knew which ones she took from him, and compared to the ones she gave, it made his looked mediocre.

“Equivalent exchange of course. For if I am to be under your care then I only think this would be appropriate. Jean Kirstein, I like your name.”

“(Y/n) (L/n),” he felt his face grow warm, “I guess that name isn’t so bad either.”