Doghouse

[channe]

Over the past few weeks, Agnieszka Kaczmarek had begun to get the distinct suspicion that nobody was listening to her.

Ariane, who hadn't supported her during Catch's fight with Aleksei.
Kerrak, who spent his time in his house and not out where the decision needed to be made.
Glenn, who never, ever, told her the entire story.
And Aleksei.

That one rankled. It festered. Because she'd said those words, and she'd meant them, and lately she felt like the only one who was taking them seriously. He'd made her promise to not risk herself on the field, while he'd hared off and taunted Catch like a bear-baiter on a market Sunday. He'd made her promise not to fight, when he went ahead and risked life and limb (and wing, and Bright, she was still trying to wrap her mind around that) in fight after fight. So she prepped herself; she would confront him and they'd get it all out in the open, just as he opened the door --

-- to find her point made for her.

She just stares at Aleksei. His wounds. His bleeding wounds.

Opens her mouth.
Lets it hang there for a moment.

Obviously, he's not listening, either.

Then, saying nothing, sits down and grabs her dagger and a whetstone, and simply gets back to her chores.

[BetaFlame]

He hadn't made her promise not to fight, just not to ride off to a damn war. He had gotten most of himself cleaned up, and was currently trying to find a good way to get to the crossbow bolt would int he back of his leg. There was just no good wa--oh crap.

He sighed and had rather hoped he would be more cleaned up by the time she got home. How long before she noticed the red runes were not red from blood, but rather because that was their color now? After all, she was almost as familiar with them as he was, now. "Good evening, dear. You look like you an exciting day?" He passes her a weak smile before he gives up trying to stitch the damn thing and just wraps it up in a tight bandage, hoping that will be good enough.

"So I have a story for you, with a good news bad news ending. It involves me, Ariane and a way to seal up that pesky little demon problem in my side."

[channe]

Moments pass; she doesn't look like she's going to speak. But finally --

"Let me guess. You wanted to spare me the horror of your possible mutilation, so you went off to Ariane and said, 'Shoot me, it'll make me go Red so I can just see how screwed we all actually are and oh, by the way, I'm asking you because Agnie can't fecking handle it.' Am I right?"

She finally, finally lifts her eyes to meet his. "Get your leg stitched. You're going to hobble yourself."

[BetaFlame]

He considers for a moment, and shrugs. "Close, Cinnabar shot me. I actually had Ariane beat me around for a little while first to feed the little monster. When I passed out, Cinnabar shot me with a crossbow." He quirks a brow at her and tilts his head. "And no, the reason you weren't there was the same reason Glenn wasn't there. Having strong emotional attachments would have interfered with the process. I'm sure you've seen worse than me getting cut up a little. Though, I did promise I wouldn't make you kill me." There was that little nagging thing in his head. That he wouldn't make her the be the one.

"Catch made something bad happen. I had to make sure..." He shrugs again. What if it had broken free here? Either way he looks back at his leg and frown at it. "I can't see it. Is it that bad?"

[channe]

"Yeah," she says, "it's that bad. It's a crossbow wound. And you walked all the way here from God knows where, putting God knows what strain on it."

She keeps on striking at the dagger with the whetstone, making no move to get up or help him out. The noise is shrill and uncomfortable between them, and her eyes move back to watch what she's doing. He'll notice the evidence of her spread out over the common room a little more than it had been; a Dauntless-type decoration on the wall, a pile of battered practice weapons in the corner, some leather greaves and gloves in a pile on the nearby chair.

"It's not you getting cut up that's making me upset," she says.

[BetaFlame]

"I got lucky. It didn't go that deep. The runes stopped it." He considers what she says, pulling those glasses from his nose to place them on a table. A bit of string is run between his lips and looping it through a curved hook and starting to tie it off. By the looks of it, he intends to stitch himself up. He's even putting a mirror on the ground so he can get a good look while he does it.

"I know. Its the 'doing it without you'. I honestly don't know what to do. It.. I don't. Fine, I just don't like you seeing me out of control, alright? Its stupid pride, I'm sorry but I.." He shuts up and shrugs. A little sigh is blown out and he feels along the wound, testing the edges to make sure they will hold a stitch.

[channe]

"Put that the feck down," she says, and she finally gets up, placing the dagger to her side. "We are getting on the horse and we are going to the doctor, and the doctor is going to stitch you up, because I am crappy at needlework and you know it, and you're dripping on the floorboards, and you can't sew up something you can't see."

Not a word about his justifications, his reasons. Not one word.

[BetaFlame]

Doctor. Right. No, not going to happen. He gives that look to her. The look that says she will have better luck carrying her horse to the doctor. "I'd rather your crappy needle work. They always want to poke at my runes, and I hate it. They push and they mess with them and.. no." There is a firm shake of his head at this. And a horse? Is she serious? Its not that bad, really. He's walked on worse. Plus he had a cane.. sword. Thing.

"Are you going to say something? Anything?" She had to have an idea what he meant.

[channe]

"I won't let them poke at your runes." She buttons the front of her cloak, looks for his where he took it off when he entered -- and then sighs, straightening. Aleksei did not marry a fading violet; and she is sick and tired of being left out.

"Okay, so Mister-Shoot-Me-With-A-Fecking-Crossbow-Because-I-Am-A-Danger-To-Society is too much of a sissy to get on a goddamn horse and talk to a doctor. Mister I-Can-Fly. I didn't marry a coward." Her eyes flash at him. "Or did I? Get to the stables and Get. On. The. Horse. We are going."

[BetaFlame]

"You should probably know.. Ariane didn't like doing it. I kind of forced her into it." He reaches behind his chair to collect his cloak. One of the disposable grey ones. No sense getting his good white one all.. bloody and horse smelling. He pulled it around his shoulder and stops, making her wait. Finally. "Alright. You're right. I'll promise not to.. uhm, not tell you my plans.. if you promise not to flip your top like a crazy woman when I tell you." He just quirks a brow at her. "I might be demon possessed, but you act like it most of the time. Ringing a war bell? Being rude to Baroness Lamai just because she is there. I'll learn to stop and tell you, if you learn not to let your initial bad temper reaction be the one you go with."

Oh yeah. This will go.. smoothly.

[channe]

Her lip curls. "Nobody forces Ariane to do anything." Wasn't that a lesson Helstone learned? She walks forward and sticks a finger out, meaning to poke him right in the chest. "You don't like the way I do things? You don't like that I tell the truth? That Lamai's a bitch from hell, that you can't get over tempting death, not even for me --" Mm. Is that the issue? "You didn't grow up here. This is Myrken Wood. If you don't get in front of possible threats, they will plant themselves in your garden and grow and choke the life out of all that is good and holy and wonderful."

She's not taking a breath, as she continues to try to poke him in the chest repeatedly. "Uh-uh, if you didn't want me to get hurt you shouldn't have married me. Because now you're stuck with someone who gives half a damn, and you're not used to it. You don't like it." Her eyes narrow. "Tough luck, mister. Now. Horse."

[BetaFlame]

He remains the picture of calm serenity in the face of her temper. Poking in him in the chest just earns her a quirked brow and a look of amusement(!). "Should I ask her to undo what she did that saved my life, then? That bitch from hell? You tell what you see as the truth, which is an admirable trait. Most of the time. You speak from the heart, and I respect you for it. But you need to learn when you curb that instinct and speak from your damned head."

He leans forward a little, letting her jab that finger just as hard as she likes. "You learned to fight. You learned to fend for yourself. You did not learn to think. I don't mean you are dumb, no. I mean you don't know how to think, plan through your thoughts. You've set the blaze before you consider if the animals are out of the field."

"And hell no. You get on the infernal beast first and hold his cranky ass still. Or I'll cut his foot off."