"The smallest changes are the most significant."
"Tyler, you are coming with me tonight, right?"
The boy looks up from his place on the couch. Or rather, his place on the floor. With his shoulder now healed, he sits upside down with his legs kicked up on the sofa cushions and upper back resting on the floor. In his hands is a newspaper from a few days ago, the title making it apparent as to why he's reading it: 'Dragon Spotted in Arcadia Skies!'
"Reluctantly," he says, folding the paper neatly before flipping back on his feet. "I 'ave no choice in the matter."
Barbara chuckles, "No, you don't."
"Sèid. Bha mi an dòchas weasel a-mach às," Tyler mutters, dropping the newspaper on the coffee table.
"What was that?"
"Nothing!" he assures hurriedly, straightening his jacket. He's found that he rather dislikes his frequent visits to the hospital—yet another unfortunate result of his amnesia. Routine trips like the one scheduled for this evening are just simple check ups to see if he's regained any memories or lost more recent ones. Annoying for a student that still has to catch up on a year and a half's worth of education.
A pair of quickening footsteps makes him step aside to allow his foster-brother to pass by without hesitation. He holds nothing against the boy anymore, but he desperately wishes that he would share the details of what's changed him so much. However, life goes on, and he's forced to live with what it presents.
As the aspiring chef rushes past again, Tyler grabs his shoulder and stops him mid-step. Surprise is evident on his features, along with a smidgen of panic in his eyes. They haven't actually said anything to each other since their falling out two weeks ago.
"Hey, Jim," he offers a small smile and pulls out a gold paper-wrapped box from his pocket. "I know yer birthday was a few days ago, but I didn't have anythin' for ye at the time. So, this is for ye."
The boy looks between him and the small present in his hand, hesitant and unsure. Slowly, he picks it up and carefully tears open the paper to reveal a simple black box with a silver painted sparrow on top. The latch is curiously undone, and the hinges make no sound as the lid is lifted open.
An expression of awe and gratitude leaves the bronze-haired boy almost breathless as he watches his foster-brother pick out the item from its confinement. "Did you make this?"
Tyler nods, clasping his hands behind him.
The object in question is a clumsily, yet carefully made steel bracelet that resembles a shortened bracer. Patterns line the metalwork, entwining each other as they encompass the bracelet. Raw leather softens the interior and the purposeful messy creation of it delivers a rustic-type appearance.
"I convinced one of the seniors to let me use their workshop," he rubs the back of his head with indifference. "It matches mine."
Jim looks at him in surprise as the boy raises his hand to display a remarkably similar bracelet. The only true difference between them is the pattern. While Jim's has braid-like patterns, Tyler's is engraved with runes and serpents, sparking further proof that he thoroughly enjoys foreign mythologies.
"I—I don't even—" he stops himself before smiling. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Tyler smirks, ruffling the shorter boy's black hair. "It's a gift."
YOU ARE READING
《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin
Fanfiction"All that glitters is not gold, but all that is pure most certainly is." The Dark Ages are over. Camelot has been lost. Killahead is scattered. Those that remember recall bright days filled with the laughter of young boys, one with a crown on his he...
