Summary:Fenris decides to try and treat Astryds … condition. What could possibly go wrong? Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Fenris is home after a long day tramping all over Europe. It had been quite the trip. This kind of thing does happen occasionally. Sometimes the Old Wolf needs to find something he used to have and then put away or hid or mislaid or… something. Remembering where you put something six hundred years ago can understandably be a bit of a pain.
But he had found what he was looking for. An old earthenware bowl, crudely made and a very rusty knife. Both are sitting on the coffee table as the Wolf God gets himself a glass of wine and sits down. Ah. Alcohol makes everything better.
Astryd has spent most of the day at her 'job' at the Embassy and she's just getting home. It's not particularly rewarding but it is necessary.
"I hope you've got one of those for me, my heart. In fact, I hope you have something stronger. I've had to smile so much today, my cheeks hurt." The blonde grumbles. Fenris knows this usually means she'll want to do something … active … this evening.
"How long did it take you to find this time?" There's a glint of mischief in her eyes as she takes a seat. On his lap.
"I certainly can. What happened?" Why was she smiling? He gets up to get some old Jameson and comes back with a whole tumbler full for Astryd. "Here you go, my raven. It took me most of the day."
Once he's settled back down he reseats Astryd on his lap. With her drink. Surely a good compensation for having had to be moved so he could get it.
"But well worth it. My old barber's gear." He'd been a barber. Back in the 14th century when being a barber had meant more than it does today.
"There were *people* through the embassy today. A tour. We had to be on our most welcoming behaviour. And because I'm in admin, and most are unaware that I'm Valkyrie, I had to smile and make nice with the … peasants."
She's joking about the last, calling them peasants, but the rest.
"I managed to get myself assigned to the group - so I could watch where they went."
Looking at the bowl and the knife, Astryd frowns. "You aren't planning on doing any healing via blood letting are you?" Barbers had a wide remit back then. "And I rather like the shave the razor you have now gives you."
"I was, actually." Fenris says looking at Astryd. "It wasn't a very good idea for mortals to do it, but magical knives can make bleeding humors effective against the right thing. And you've been quite a bit… hot blooded of late." Astryd has denied that when Fenris has asked her about it but he knows that she has changed a considerable amount over a very short period of time.
Sif knows this too. She knew it the first time Astryd pushed her into going roller skating.
It's probably also safer for the 'peasants' if he does this. A lot safer.
Astryd sips the Jamesons and watches Fenris' eyes. "You … want to let my blood because I've been … protective of you?"
That isn't sitting well with the Valkyrie, the God-Wolf can tell this. "I don't have any humours to bleed."
Has she really been that hot blooded lately? She's certainly been looking for a little more excitement.
"Astryd, is this something I would lie to you about? You've been acting rashly ever since you took that blast in Hod's place. It left a mark on you and that mark is acting on you." This much Fenris understands. He hasn't been able to find a way to remove that mark but everything about it makes sense. Making HOD hot tempered and rash would have been a surefire way to start Ragnarok. Just give it time and wait for him to get his blood up and do something that leads to Baldur's death.
"Also, that's why I had to find this specific knife. It'll bleed out some of what is in you." Power he means. Magic. Which he is positive is somehow tainted or infected.
"I didn't say you were." Astryd points out, perhaps a bit stubbornly. "You've already tried to remove the mark and it's effects, remember?" She adds quietly, her grey eyes holding Fenris' as she searches them.
"And what if the knife does more damage? What if there is nothing to bleed, after all?" He can tell she really doesn't like this idea - but what's possibly worse - he can tell she's not really aware that she's objecting.
"Is it really so bad that I am … bold?"
"It is when it puts you in danger dear heart." Fenris says quietly. "Or when it puts you in situations that make my… strong reaction more likely." He's recognized that danger. He's not sure how likely it is but the more flamboyant she gets, the bigger the risk. If she were taken, say by Tammuz again… well. There's little telling what he might do.
And so the wolf god brandishes the knife. But he doesn't use it quite yet. "Astryd. Have you noticed you're resisting letting me try to help?"
"I'm just … don't want you manipulated, my heart. The Fates and those that sit above move you around like a pawn." Astryd has seen his strong reactions and has tried to mitigate against them - each time, her actions become more and more bold.
"I'm not resisting, Fenris. I just don't see it's necessary …" The grey eyes hold his for a moment. "Are you going to command to me?"
"Are you going to make me?" Fenris counters. He wants to be easy and gentle with his Raven but she is not making that possible. He is positive that this needs to be addressed before it gets worse and even if this isn't a cure, it is at least a treatment. It will buy them some space.
"I don't want to be manipulated either. And right now you are under the influence of something beyond you. It's creeping into everything you do."
Maybe it's the fact they've been together so long, but Astryd dips her head at the question. "No, you know I won't." The blonde takes a deep breath, still not meeting his eyes.
"Is this why you didn't take me with you?" She's not resisting, but she's not exactly participating either and for the first time in a long time, Fenris is seeing her sulk.
"Tell me what you want to do …"
"No I didn't take you with me because you're being a spy and that's important." Fenris gestures to her arm. "I'm going to 'cut' you there." From the way he says it, he doesn't mean a physical incision. "Then I'll use the bowl to catch a few drippings and see what comes out. If there's anything I don't like, we'll bleed it a little.
It's likely to come out with bits of Astryd. Nothing she can't get back but that's the reason he can't just bleed her completely dry.
It's not worthy of him, the question that Astryd just asked and she knows it, deep down anyway.
"And you want to do this now? You don't need any preparation or precautions?" The blonde rolls her sleeve up and holds her arm out. She doesn't ask if it will hurt - it doesn't matter. She's a warrior and pain is of small consequence.
"Where did you find it, in the end?" She's steady at least. Who knows what he'll find when he cuts her.
"Seville. Of course." The Old Wolf chuckles. "I didn't think I'd done barbering in Spain but there you go." He'd been in Spain a couple of times. The Brits weren't wrong to sing farewell to Spanish ladies.
Fenris runs the pitted blade along Astryd's arm. It doesn't cut. It barely scratches. But it does sting and instantly reddish light begins to drip from her arm. The Wolf God holds up the bowl to catch it and examines it as it comes down.
As he suspected, there's congealed black in the red.
"That's what I thought." He mutters mostly to himself. He reaches up to run it once more and the drip becomes a slow but steady flow. He'll only do this for a minute or so. Then the spiritual wound will close up and he won't reopen it. She'll need a bit of recovery time after that, possibly with chocolate and a chick flick.
"The Barber of Seville, hmmm?" Astryd wonders about that. There are stories that have sprung about her over the years. People telling of meeting her - in one form or another. "Maybe you didn't barber in Seville, I don't recall. Was I with you then?"
As the blade passes over her arm, the blonde watches as the blood drips into the bowl. "That's bad, isn't it?" She says softly, not moving. She's going to paler though as he bleeds her.
"No it isn't." Fenris murmurs. "It isn't good at all." More of it drops out. It is seemingly more goopy. More viscous. It doesn't look pleasant and this was allegedly in her.
"Mmmmm. I think you were. We lived together in Seville yes? And in Cordoba for a bit. And in Valencia." Spain had been an interesting place. "You were away for… fifty years, I think? On a trip to Cyprus." He had met one of his Spanish ladies then.
After a minute or so the flow stops and Fenris puts both bowl and blade aside, watching Astryd to see how she feels.
"Mmmmm Cyprus. I did, yes. I rather enjoyed Spain, actually." Astryd watches the goop as it drips into the bowl. "You think that's what making me … hot blooded? How do you get rid of it?"
She's not arguing, but she's really not looking very good. Pale normally, she's even more pale now - her grey eyes dimming. "Why are you all fuzzy, Fenris?" She doesn't mean like a wolf, either.
"We have to get that mark off you." They just don't know how to do that yet. "For now I may have to bleed you regularly. I'm fuzzy because you've lost some essence. It'll normalize shortly." Or it… should. Fenris is fairly confident it should do that.
"How do you feel now?"
"Well it's not going to come off, is it?" Astryd murmurs, nudging him to put the knife and bowl down. When he does, she curls up in his arms and rest her head against his shoulder. "I don't want you to bleed me regularly if this is how it feels."
She'd honestly much rather have him pour cold water over her.
"Muzzy and vague. Like I could sleep for a hundred years. Is it supposed to be like this?" Probably not. And if not, why is it? More importantly, will it normalize - or are they in for more trouble?
The knife and bowl are down and away, sitting on the table. When she curls up against him he loops his arms around her and strokes her blonde hair. "Mmmmm. Well being a bit tired is to be expected but no. I wouldn't have expected it to take quite that much out of you." It's likely the infection has weakened her. Removing it also removed a lot of her vitality. Which makes sense since it has been lending her vitality. Her natural tendencies have been suppressed.
"You can just nap right there, though, if you like." He murmurs fondly.
Astryd's tendancy tend to be very restrained. Stern and aloof - not at all how she's been acting recently. Still, for her to be this tired, must be concerning to the God Wolf - she's not been like this for a very long time.
"Maybe we can go hunting later, my heart?" She murmurs, eyes drifting closed. "You'll want me to do dinner in a bit. Just let me rest here and I'll get to it."
This … might be a problem.
"I'd be happy to hunt with you later." Fenris smiles. "And I'll do dinner. You rest."
The Old Wolf knows this isn't how it should be but he doesn't know what the other options are at this point. If he lets her continue to be more reckless she will eventually put him in a position where he must let her die, or start ragnarok. She's already come perilously close to that.
So from that perspective sleepy is an upgrade.