Grayson didn’t speak this time, he only listened. Carefully dissecting and analyzing each word that Tristan spoke. He didn’t sound pissed, that was the first notation he took from it. It confused him. Grayson felt awful, he felt like his world was collapsing inward. But the more Tristan spoke, the more he felt the light rekindle within him. It burned, almost painfully in his core, as he fought the feelings of allowing himself to be happy. Because after everything that's happened how could Grayson be happy?

But something caught Grayson’s attention sharply. So sharply that he almost sprung from beneath his covers. Here, was Tristan, pushing him because he cared about him, truly cared. Perhaps he was the only person in the world that did but that wasn’t the point. So much had happened to Tristan in the last few years, something that could have sunk a lesser man into the depths of his soul. But it didn’t. Tristan coped in his own way while Grayson didn’t really have a way of coping. But despite all that, Tristan had gotten his kingdom back and probably had a ton of other stuff to do, stuff which was stacking up quickly. Yet, Tristan was still here.

“No.” he finally said, stretching out and letting the covers fall from his face as he looked at Tristan who was propped on his bed, “I never had a choice and neither did you.”

Grayson had always tried to make the right choices, for him everything had been so black and white there was never a grey area. Things were either good or they were bad, it was that simple for him. Perhaps, that was why he was having such a hard time with this. Maybe this was one of those areas that he just didn’t understand. What he thought was something black was something lighter, more grey.

“I was stupid and gullible.” he stated, thinking back to the guy who lead him to The Stone Dragon, he believed he was trying to help him when he was actually the enemy. It might have been different if he hadn’t been concussed but maybe not. Perhaps, the outcome would have always been the same and Mordred would have captured him regardless. What was the point of continuing to think about the what-ifs?

Grayson sat up, folding his legs underneath him mirroring Tristan, a slight rush to his head caused him to sway but he stabilized quickly. “I wont be stupid and gulliable anymore.” He’d train harder, be better, he thought.

He sighed as Tristan talked about his father, it was soft, endearing, and a wish all wrapped up in one. “I miss him you know, your father. He was such a brilliant man.” Grayson started to ring his wrists, a habit when he started to talk about uncomfortable things. “I always wanted to be just like him since I was little.” He thought back to his toy wooden sword, an object that was long gone physically but it carried such emotional baggage, the sword made him think of his mother and sister. Thoughts that brought him sadness and he realized he needed to stuff those back for a different day. “You’re just like him you know, you might not think so but you are, he’d be proud of you Tristan.”

He didn’t know how if Tristan would believe him, but that didn’t matter to him because Grayson believed it. “You’re right though, I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Bad things happen to people every day and they don't all hole up in a room like this.” He gestured at the whole of his simple room. “Especially when we finally get to sleep in real beds, not those cots.” He laughed, feeling a bit lighter while he patted the soft bed.

Shrugging, “who knows, maybe i’ll find myself my own tapestry, with boobs.” He smiled that tawny boy smile that had been missing for so long. “But I don’t think Olive would appreciate that very much.” This time he blushed, he hadn’t confided a lot to Tristan about Olive but the words escaped him for he could reel them in. He wanted to go see her, last they parted was when he was captured. It had been months since then and he wanted her to know that he was okay - that he was going to be okay.

Maybe there were more people in Shaman that cared about him then he first thought. He just needed to see it.

It would take a while for Grayson to get better, but if Tristan thought he was still worth it, he would get there no matter what. He wouldn’t let him down again. “So, What do we do now? What does the rightful King of Shaman want to do now?”