Chapter Text
Gricko's party had been missing for three days.
Gricko remembered when he realized Hootsie was missing, when he woke up from that damned fey curse -- he didn't think anything could ever possibly feel so terrible.
He couldn't believe he had been proven wrong.
He'd been knocked off a cliff in a fight, and he guessed their enemy had assumed he was dead, because nobody had come after him. When Gricko had finally summoned his Gorallen and eaten enough bananyas to repair his shattered ribcage, when he'd finally gotten back up the cliff, the only one left had been Hootsie.
Three days .
He'd only slept because Hootsie had literally laid on top of him and refused to move until he had slept. Gricko was a pretty decent tracker, in his own opinion, and he and Hootsie had been getting close, based on the amount of scorched trees and fresh blood they'd found.
Scorch marks meant that Gideon, at least, was putting up a fight. Gricko wasn't attuned to the Baron in any way, shape, or form, but there were cold spots along the path that Gricko passed through, and he just knew that Kremy's magic had been there.
Or maybe it was just the Baron himself , giving Gricko a sign that he was headed in the right direction. Did the Baron do that sort of thing? Gricko would have to ask Kremy when they found him.
When, not if. Gricko was refusing to think about the alternatives -- he would find Gideon and Kremy, fighting for each other and refusing to acknowledge the blatant love between them. He would find Torbek, confused but oh so brave, refusing to let himself be controlled again. He would find Twig, bright and funny and warm.
He would find Frosty. One way or another, he had to find Frosty.
He ate when Hootsie ate, he slept when he was too tired to walk anymore or Hootsie made him. They followed the trail. Gricko called in every favor with every spirit he had.
Three days grew to five, then seven, then ten.
On the twelfth day, finally, Gricko and Hootsie heard shouting.
The group who had taken Gricko's family were a hunting party of Orcs, who were taking them back to their village to be eaten or sacrificed -- Gricko didn't particularly care about the why. All he cared about was the rope cutting into Frost's wrists and the dried blood around Twig's nose.
Gricko wasn't an angry person. He rarely gave into his more Goblin instincts.
The snarl he gave as he summoned his three headed direwolf and attacked was pure rage.
“Gotta say, little green,” Kremy praised later, after everyone had been healed and Gricko was snuggled up against Frost's side. “That was impressive work. I didn't think you'd ever find us, you've been hiding some mean trackin’ skills.”
Gideon chuckled, raising his flask In agreement. “You were determined, huh Gricko?”
Gricko's nose scrunched. “Course I was determined, me and Hootsie wouldn't leave you hanging.”
“Torbek aaaaalways knew,” Torbek said, voice soft and eyes wide. “Gricko would neveeeer let his friends down.”
“Damn right,” Frost mumbled, hugging Gricko just a little closer. “We're family.”
Gricko pressed his smile into his partners robes, warm and comfortable and fucking exhausted.
“Yea, Frosty, we're family.” Gricko mumbled. “The bestest family there is.”
“Rest up, Gricko,” Kremy said, “You did good.”
Gricko hummed, felt Frost kiss the top of his head, and then fell asleep.