A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 454 - 443: Mundane to him

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

[Glinda’s Castle]

"So, something’s in the moon, huh?" Puck’s voice carried lightly through the corridor, though there was an unusual tone behind it, her usual flippancy tempered by thought. She drifted just slightly ahead of Grimm, her small form hovering at an easy pace. "Something dangerous that’s sealed away like that..." She paused midair, her brows knitting. "That’s kind of silly when you say it out loud, but also—" she exhaled softly, "—pretty scary when you actually think about it."

Her eyes turned upward instinctively, as though the ceiling might part and reveal that distant and silent orb.

"So what do you think it is, really?" she pressed, turning midair to face him as she floated backward. "Like are we talking something simple? Just some monster? Like a Deseruit Beast or something nasty that got too big for its own good?"

"A divine entity, perhaps," Grimm answered without slowing, his tone low as his gaze remained forward. "Though if I were to choose, something far more monstrous and truly incomprehensible would be more interesting."

Puck tilted her head, mulling that over, her lips pursing slightly. "But if it’s incomprehensible..." she pointed out, "...then you wouldn’t actually understand it. Isn’t that kind of the point? Doesn’t that ruin the whole ’interesting’ part for you?"

"True," Grimm conceded after a brief pause, his voice lowering slightly as if acknowledging the flaw without concern. "Though even an abstract existence that is beyond conventional understanding would still be worth dissecting. There is value in attempting to understand what cannot be understood."

"I dunno..." Puck muttered, turning forward again as she drifted alongside him, her legs idly kicking through the air. "I think it’d be better if it was something actually scary. Like properly scary." She glanced sideways at him. "Something like a Sluagh or a Redcap. Those kinds of things get under your skin." Her expression shifted slightly. "And from how that lady was talking about it, whatever’s in that moon, it’s gotta be bad. Like, really bad."

"You equate interest with fear?" Grimm asked, finally turning his head slightly toward her, the question not mocking, just probing.

"Well..." Puck shrugged lightly, though there was confidence in the motion. "I’m pretty tough, you know? So if something actually manages to scare me..." she tapped her chest lightly, "...then yeah. That means it’s worth paying attention to and worth looking into."

Grimm hummed at that, a thoughtful sound. "How unexpectedly sensible. Coming from you."

Puck stopped midair, blinking once before narrowing her eyes. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" she shot back, planting a small armored fist firmly against her hip.

"Forget it," Grimm waved off with a slight motion of his hand. "No need to dwell on it, unless you intend to cry about it."

Puck stared at him for a moment, then shook her head with a quiet huff, turning away again. "You’re unbelievable," she muttered, though there was no real bite behind it anymore. She’d grown used to it.

"...Whatever," she added after a moment, her tone shifting again as she refocused. "So are you actually going to help? Properly, I mean." She glanced back at him, tilting her head. "With the moon thing. Not just poke at it for five minutes and then lose interest like you usually do."

Grimm did not answer immediately.

("It is an interesting development, without question,") he considered silently, his gaze drifting momentarily toward one of the tall colored windows as they passed, the light casting moving hues across his armor. ("But which path offers more...") His thoughts split, weighing possibilities. ("Meddling with the rules imposed by the Keepers or meddling with whatever lies sealed within the moon...")

There was a brief pause.

("Both hold value.")

The decision came easily.

("Then I will simply pursue both.")

His gaze returned to Puck.

"As I said before," Grimm replied, his tone steady, "it is interesting. That alone warrants my attention." He paused, then added, "Which means I will dedicate a reasonable amount of effort toward it."

Puck’s expression flattened almost immediately.

"Uh-huh..." she murmured slowly, clearly unconvinced. "You say that like it’s reassuring, but honestly?" She gave him a sideways look. "My gut’s telling me that’s exactly how things go horribly wrong with you."

"Then perhaps you should have that checked," Grimm replied without missing a beat.

Puck snorted, a short, incredulous sound. "You know, the fact that you can make jokes like that sometimes..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully with one armored finger. "...it actually makes me wonder."

"Hm?"

"What else are you capable of?" she continued, narrowing her eyes slightly in curiosity. "Like, have you ever cried before?"

"Probably," Grimm answered flatly. "As an infant, perhaps." There was a brief pause before he added, almost as an afterthought, "Though considering who I am, it is equally likely I emerged from the womb without making a sound."

Puck gave him a long, dry look.

"Right..." she said slowly. "Yeah, no. I don’t buy that for even a second."

She tilted her head again, studying him more carefully.

"So what about smiling?" she pressed. "Have you ever actually smiled before?"

"Whenever you look particularly foolish," Grimm replied instantly. "Which, as it happens, is quite often. So yes—I suppose I smile frequently."

"Hey!" Puck snapped, balling up her tiny fist again as she huffed. "I’m asking a serious question here, you know. A real answer wouldn’t kill you."

Grimm was quiet for a moment this time.

"Then yes," he said eventually, his tone less dismissive. "There have been moments where I smiled."

Puck blinked, catching the slight shift.

"There have been?" she echoed. "That doesn’t sound very convincing."

Grimm gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"I think," he added.

"You think?" Puck repeated, more curious than anything.

"It’s not as though I stood before a mirror, carefully observing myself every time I happened to feel something resembling happiness," the General replied, his tone almost dismissive of the very premise, as though the act of recognizing such moments had never held much importance to him in the first place.

Puck blinked at that, her expression shifting into something much more probing.

"Right, sure, I get that," she said, though her voice carried an insistence now, drifting a little closer to him as she spoke. "But that doesn’t really answer the question, does it?" She tilted her head, pink eyes narrowing just slightly. "What moments were those, exactly? And don’t just brush it off with something vague again—I actually want to know. Like properly know."

Grimm did not answer immediately. There was a pause, not long, but noticeable.

"Mundane moments," he said at last, his voice a tad quieter than before. "Nothing particularly noteworthy. Drinking coffee, allowing myself to sleep later than necessary..." He trailed off then, the words thinning, as though something else had been on the verge of surfacing—something that he chose not to give voice to.

Puck caught it instantly.

"Really?" she pressed, her tone soft but unconvinced, drifting slightly ahead before turning to face him fully again. "That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?" Her brows knit slightly. "C’mon, you paused. There was more there, wasn’t there?" She leaned in just a fraction. "Don’t tell me that’s all there is. There have to be other moments—something that actually mattered."

"Perhaps," Grimm allowed, though there was no hesitation this time. "But those I will keep to myself."

Puck studied him for a second longer, then exhaled softly through her nose.

"Of course you will," she muttered, though there was no real frustration in it—more an acceptance. "You’re annoyingly persistent with that." She shrugged lightly, drifting back to his side. "Still, it’s kind of nice, I guess. Knowing that even you can have normal moments." A smirk tugged at her lips. "Even if you’re completely insufferable most of the time."

Grimm did not respond to the jab directly.

"Then what of you?" he asked instead, turning the conversation back onto her smoothly. "You are a fairy—your baseline for ’normal’ is likely quite different from mine." There was a shift in his tone that made it more attentive. "Have you experienced something as simple as happiness?"

The question lingered between them, more probing than it should have been.

Puck opened her mouth almost immediately.

"I have... with—" she began, the words coming naturally at first and then stopping just as abruptly.

Her gaze shifted away, drifting toward the side, her expression tightening ever so slightly as a frown formed. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

The rest of that sentence never came.

There was a brief silence.

Grimm watched her, though what he gleaned from that hesitation was unclear behind the face of his helm.

"Well," he said after a moment, his voice returning to its usual steadiness, though lacking its earlier tone, "it is not necessary for you to elaborate."

Puck blinked, a little surprised at how easily he let it go.

She glanced back at him, as if about to comment on it—but before she could say anything, footsteps rang out.

Not one, but a few.

The sound carried down the hallway ahead, distinct in the quiet castle and approaching them.

Both of their gazes shifted forward at the same time.