The Night the Fire Fell (aka "I F***** The Mage Out Of Him") (Alkereth & Emery) [M]

[Avelithe]

It was embarrassing as all get out. In the meantime, Alkereth was desperate to keep his dignity, but it was only an uphill battle. Amazing that Emery did not straight up abandon him right there in the bushes.

"I think so," he groaned. "By god... its really horrible... is this what it's like to die?" There was momentary quiet, and then more disgusting sounds, and more groaning. "Do you have something to... oh, wait, right. I am a powerful sorcerer; I don't need the help of a ginger harlot. One moment."

What followed was extended silence, a little bit of rustling, and then—a brief flash of light. Moments later, the Harbinger emerged again, looking much better as he adjusted his gloves and trousers. When he looked up to around at Emery, he suddenly gripped the pommel of his sword.

He moved swiftly as if on the attack, drawing his weapon at Emery—

"MOVE!" Alkereth shouted at her, raising his palm.

A dark cloaked figure descended upon Emery from the treetops, and fast.

[Rhindeer]

"Pardon me? 'Ginger harlot'?" Emery parroted, sitting back up. There was offense in her voice, but her tired grin didn't match it as she watched him emerge from his shame-bush. She had seen the flash of light, and decided she fucking gave up. How he managed to touch his power around her was a mystery far above her pay grade—a problem for people smarter than her to figure out and solve.

"Listen, bitch, harlots get—"

She didn't get a chance to say what harlots got. The mage drew his sword and charged at her, and suddenly she was wide awake and pulling her sword free of its sheath at her hip, but the fatigue made her sluggish, just a bit too slow. He was shouting at her, and the word registered a second too late.

...move?

Something slammed into her from above, punching the wind from her lungs and tumbling her off of Hilda with a crunch. Startled, the horse reared with a frightened whinny and bolted off through the trees, but Emery had no time to see the issue as she was currently seeing stars and wheezing for air, her left shoulder screaming agony in a familiar way—ah, that's what the crunch had been. A boot kicked her sword away, a knife pressed to her throat, and she was yanked to her feet by her hair and held between the attacker and the mage as a human shield.

"Not a step closer or she gets a new smile!" the stranger snarled, as another figure dropped down behind the mage, brandishing a sword. "We don't want no trouble. Just give us what we want and ya walk away."

"Fuck me," Emery laughed, chest rising and falling fast with pained breaths and left arm hanging limp. "You picked the wrong hostage. You should've picked the horse—" The stranger yanked her head back sharply for speaking and pressed the blade in tighter, making her suck in a wincing breath.

"Give us what we want and ya walk away," the stranger repeated to the mage. "The star. Where is it? We know ya have it. We saw ya leave the site." And then, with a vicious smile and a hard look at the mage, the stranger added, "Witch."

"The hell you talking about—nngh!" Another hard yank had her gasping, and she felt a thin trickle of blood run down to her collar.

Things just had a funny way of going from bad to worse. She had zero expectation that the mage would help her—because why should he? This was her fault anyway, for letting her guard down enough for some common thugs to get the drop on them. Figured it would be petty thieves that did her in and not something more epic.

If she was the sort to sit back and wait to be rescued, that is.

Because while the stranger gabbed, she stretched her right hand down for the hunting blade strapped to her thigh, thanking God the idiot hadn't bothered to check her over. Her hand covered the handle and she waited, heart pounding, for the right moment.

[Avelithe]

Alkereth nearly swore. They had gone this far, and already he let his guard down. How could he not expect to be jumped by others searching for the object that made impact? The only benefit that served him now was that the secret of what came out of the crater was between him and the Mordecai.

With his sword gripped tightly, Alkereth quickly thought of ways to get out of this mess. At least they had one idiot to deal with—

—make that two. Alkereth stood rigid, listening to the demands made by the figure behind him. He clenched his jaw. He wondered how years of tempering his charisma and people skills would work on these men, so he decided to change tactics and go from defensive to relaxed.

He gave them a hearty chortle to start, lowering his sword to give himself the look of a man who was careless. Despite the act, he was most definitely on his guard, and was absolutely willing to demonstrate how fast he could swing his sword down on the neck of the man behind him. However, he needed to be careful.

He just needed to be sure that these men would be agreeable enough to talk first.

"Hold on a moment, gentlemen, let's be reasonable. There is no need for bloodshed. You saw her leave the crater... so that alone is proof? That she has, what... a star? Well, do you even know what this star looks like? Yes? No?" Alkereth gave a thoughtful shrug. "Neither do I. We only left with disappointment. Rest assured we wouldn't have been walking this well worn path carrying something so precious. We wouldn't want bandits to steal it. I was there—I saw several people walk out of that crater. Any one of them could have it."

It was a long shot. Alkereth was never in the habit to deceive others unless it was a life or death situation; he figured this was one of those times his god would forgive such blatant fabrication.

"The girl is a nasty piece of work, yes; I've worked with her for a long time to know this irrefutable fact, but she is no witch. Continue to pierce her skin with your blade, my dear fellow, I will be forced to feed the ground with your entrails. So let's lay down our weapons, yes? Let her go. And you; yes, the smelly fellow behind me. Did you... You stepped into something foul, didn't you? Oh, that is MOST unfortunate."

Alkereth should not have felt so much glee by this, especially when they were in the midst of very real danger. But he hoped some lighthearted fun would change their dire situation.

[Rhindeer]

Oh dear God.

The mage was trying to talk his way out of this.

Emery was fighting for her life, and he thought he could have a reasonable conversation with these people?! Then again, after he'd fought for his own life in that bush over there, maybe he didn't feel well enough to fight. As funny as it had been in the moment, a sickness like that could drain and dehydrate you in minutes.

With another slow pat to ensure her knife was there, as though reassuring herself, Emery let out a pained whimper and raised her hands, fingers spread, shoulder shooting pain clear down to her fingertips. No, no, this was good for her, though. The men were paying attention to the tall man trying to bargain, not to the helpless little woman at the end of a blade. That was good. That was very good.

Keep talking...

"He's right," Emery breathed, and though the man's grip on her tightened at first when she lifted her hands, he saw they were empty and seemed not to think her a threat. Good, good. She shuddered, putting a little hiccup in her voice, letting her words tremble. "Please, sir. Swear to God he's telling the truth. Please stop, please..."

The thug holding her ignored her though, instead glaring daggers at the mage, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You're lyin'," he growled. "Only saw two sets of tracks at the site, plus the horse. Don't fuck with me!"

More blood beaded out around the blade, and Emery's whimper was real that time. She rested her hands on the man's arm, hands shaking, and for too many panicked seconds she thought he might really be done with her. "Oh shit, oh fuck..."

"Lie again. Do it. See what happens," the thug challenged, seeming unfazed by the pale man's threat. His partner, the swordsman, sidled in closer to the mage, seemingly the more impatient of the two. "I'm gonna ask nicely one more time: where. Is. The star?"

"Let's just cut them and search their bodies," the swordsman said, peering the mage up and down with a scowl at being called smelly. "I've had enough of this. We could use their horse, too."

"No, no, please," Emery begged, grasping at the man's wrist in desperation, tears shining in her eyes. "Please God, don't! I'll do anything!"

"I already laid out the terms," the thug said, both to his partner and the mage. "You get one more chance. One more. Then she dies, and we start chopping off parts until you squeal."

"Just tell him!" Emery pleaded, and couldn't help the rush of amazement that...that the mage had defended her. Threatened to kill for her. What? "Just tell him the truth, please, I don't want to die!"

"Oh, would you just shut—"

Emery thrust her shoulder up and pitched herself forward, yanking his knife hand down and away with both hands. Her shoulder was a bright blaze of agony and she cried out as he fought her, but if she wavered she died so she pushed through the pain. She clutched his knife hand tight to her chest as he swore and tried to wrestle it back, but he'd lost his balance when she bent down—and it was that slight fumble that let her jerk his hand down enough to thrust his own blade into his side.

He screamed as she staggered away from him, drawing her own dagger free, and she wasted no time sinking it into his throat.

His partner let out a roar of rage and charged at the sorcerer, swinging his sword at his back full force.

"Watch out!" Emery yelled, yanking her dagger free in a shower of blood.

[Avelithe]

Alkereth was getting pissed. Not only did his lie not work, but watching humans do this to other humans was the fastest way to stoke the fires in his heart.

And he could not stomach hearing Emery plead for her life like this.

Not wanting to waste another breath on thieves, the Harbinger squeezed Heartrender's pommel with determination.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

The figure behind Alkereth began to charge in fury. By the sounds of it, the Mordecai received wounds, but so did the asshole trying to subdue her.

Metal clashed against metal. Sparks flew. The thief combatting the sorcerer was strong, and pushed fiercely against the guard, but his target pushed back. Using this opportunity to keep up his defense, Alkereth lifted his right palm and grabbed the face inside of his assailant's hood.

Alkereth's scarlet eyes burned as a wicked sneer twisted his features. Oh, yeah. He was angry.

"I'm the star," he growled softly, and proceeded to electrocute the thief. The thief's screams filled the forest until he could scream no more. The dead thief began to fall, clothes and face fried into unrecognition.

Without waiting for the body of his enemy to hit the ground, Alkereth turned and bolted to Emery.

"Oh god, are you alright? Etia Lazamar..." He sank to his knees, grasping her shoulders to inspect her wounds. "Be still, Emery. Let me heal your wounds." He looked into her eyes. There was only concern from his own.

[Rhindeer]

Emery sank to her knees beside the body of her attacker, right hand pressed to the cut on her throat, left arm cradled in her lap, and bloody knife on the ground before her. The mage had reacted, meeting steel with steel, and for a moment she worried that the thief might subdue him. He was a brute of a man compared to the svelte mage—

But brute strength wasn't everything.

And goddamn could that twig fight.

She watched it happen, watched the mage suddenly draw in close and grab the man's face. What the—?

Screaming filled the woods, along with a smell like cooking pork. She had smelled that scent before, when she and her band dealt with the child that had burned her parents. Cooking meat. Human meat.

Holy shit...

Emery swallowed hard, for a moment feeling ill, but thankfully her stomach was empty. So that's what the mage could do? And right before her eyes in a way no other mage had managed, because it shouldn't be possible...

She swayed a little, dizzy, but then the mage was before her and grasping her shoulders, and she startled like she'd been zapped, breath hissing through her teeth.

"I'm fine. It was an act, you fool," Emery said, averting her eyes quickly. "Damsel in distress, always a classic. They never expect the disarm. Ah, I'm really fine." She was pale and breathing heavily, shivering a little despite the sweat on her brow. That always happened, that burst of nervous energy and trembling and racing heart that always seemed to come after the crisis was over, despite being strangely calm in the midst of it.

And though she didn't want to admit it, she had truly been afraid. It was one thing to walk into danger knowing what you were facing, and quite another to be reminded that you were still just human. Still vulnerable despite her best efforts not to be.

She fucking hated it.

She shrugged her good shoulder, trying to dislodge him. "Touch me with your...your magic and I will end you," she added sharply. "Don't you dare fucking do it. Here, just...my shoulder's out. It's happened before. Pop it back in."

But even as she barked orders at him, they lacked true spice.

Not just because she was shaken, but because he hadn't left her.

[Avelithe]

Not a single thought or care was given about what the Mordecai would think about magic. The way Alkereth saw it, a job needed to be done, and it was done. But the fact that he had to kill another person did not sit well with him at all, and that is what kept him stewing in anger.

"No, you won't." It was a challenge filled with impatience. "Be still. Healing would be faster. The noise we made will attract attention, and we need to find your horse."

Impatience did not suit Alkereth. He thought he might get used to it around Emery, but now she was truly testing him. He took a deep breath.

"Emery—stop. Please let me do this, just this one time. Anyone with eyes can see that it's not just a dislocated shoulder. I need you to just... trust me on this. The sooner we get a move on, the better, and right now I have zero interest in playing games with you, or your prejudices."

That was one helluva loaded statement. But he had not walked out on Emery just yet.

"Well, it was a good act and fooled me," he said roughly. "Better than mine. I was con..." Alkereth's mouth hung open, then he closed it, looking away. "Never mind."

[Rhindeer]

"Yes, I WILL," Emery shot back petulantly, for she was in no state to do any ending. "Don't do it. Don't. I swear to God. I get it, it's inconvenient, I'm a bit fucked, so if it's a burden then fucking leave. You have your chance now—again. You know what I'm walking you into. That hasn't changed. You owe me nothing."

She pulled her hand back to check her neck's bleeding, then put it back. It was a shallow wound, but it still hurt.

"Let me make myself clear: I'd rather die clean than go to hell a heretic. So don't. It's fine." Despite the anger in her words, her voice was edging toward fresh panic. He seemed to really want to do this, looking angry in a way that was new to her. Oh, she'd seen him pissed before, but not like this.

She chewed her lip anxiously. He was right that there would be others, though. These types usually worked in larger groups, and his crash would have attracted eyes from all over. 

She shuddered, raising her eyes to him briefly. "You were what?"

[Avelithe]

Alkereth was gritting his teeth, keeping his eyes and ears sharp around them. And yet Emery continued to be the most stubborn bitch he had ever met.

"You're right." Sharp, to the point. "I don't." He had no interest in arguing with her. Consent was extremely important to him, but Emery was not dying or bleeding out profusely enough for him to make that decision, so why should he care at this point? She said no. And that was that. He dropped it.

With one problem checked off of his list, he shifted his priority and rose up, picking up his sword to sheath. He'll clean it from dirt later.

"Forget it, Emery," he said heatedly. "Get up and call your horse. I am tired of waiting around to see if more of them will come. We're going to load up and put as much distance behind us as we can."

He said 'us'. Even still, he would not abandon Emery, even if his anger reached its damn near explosive point.

[Rhindeer]

Us. He said us. Despite everything, despite acknowledging that he owed nothing, he was not leaving her. For reasons beyond her, he was still sticking this out.

This man...

Emery squeezed her eyes shut and took a moment, much of the tension leaving her when he let the subject go. She couldn't say it wasn't tempting, the idea that he could just...take away her pain just like that, move her bones back where they were supposed to be. But wasn't that the issue? Wasn't that the danger? Just how easy it could be to slide, to give into just one harmless but selfishly beneficial temptation which would only lead to more and more down the line.

That's how the corruption began: just a little taste.

With a sore grunt, she pushed herself to her feet, holding her damaged arm with her good one. Her cut had finally clotted, leaving behind a smeared mess of dried blood on her skin that looked far worse than it actually was. And as she glanced down at herself to assess, there was more blood splattered on her, but it didn't belong to her.

It was with a strange quietness that she collected her sword and sheathed it, then picked up her knife, wiped it on her breeches, and sheathed that too. She pointedly avoided looking at the mage as she worked, bringing her fingers to her lips to give a shrill whistle for Hilda.

Before long, the sound of hoof beats filled the air, and she walked to meet her horse, checking her over to make sure everything was still in place. She went through the motions automatically, but her mind was elsewhere.

She was tired.

She hurt.

And for some strange reason, she felt ashamed.

[Avelithe]

If needed, Alkereth helped Emery up Hilda. It was clear that he had abandoned the concept of doing these gestures out of kindness. He behaved as if they were already being pursued. In his experience, he was probably right.

"Come on. If you cannot steer your mare, then let me. Just tell me where to go."

He gave Hilda a swift pat on the neck before hoisting himself up more cleanly than before.

As if on cue, voices rang out in the distance. Alkereth felt his blood run cold.

"Some times, I really hate being right," he growled darkly. "We need to go off the path. Emery...?" He did not think he needed to finish his sentence.

[Rhindeer]

Emery did need help getting up, and she accepted it without complaint. For once. She held the reins while trying to keep her bad shoulder as still as possible, biting the inside of her cheek and trying hard to ignore the persistent, throbbing pain shooting all the way down her arm. She could do this. It was fine.

The mage slid up behind her and then—fuck. Of course. Of course things had to keep on escalating.

"You're a walking curse," Emery muttered under her breath, and nudged Hilda into motion, turning her off the road and gritting her teeth as the mare's gallop jostled her arm horrifically, making each step excruciating. They crashed through the undergrowth, not going the direction they needed to go, but going the direction that would hide them best—deeper into the woods, far away from the road, and into a shallow stream she hoped would cover their tracks for a bit.

But it was fucking hard. She could still hear the voices, searching for them. And she was losing steam fast. Her pride insisted she could do this, that she was stronger than this, that she didn't need help.

But her body was louder.

"Holy fuck, hold on," she said, bringing Hilda to a sudden stop. She slid down off the mare, almost falling off in the process without both arms to help her, and sucked in shallow breaths. 

"Take the front, mage," she said. "You'll steer." And she waited for him to adjust, and held her good hand out to him so she could mount behind him this time.

[Avelithe]

"Just think of all that money you're going to roll in," he snapped sarcastically, trying to keep her steady. "Really hit the jackpot with me, didn't you."

Thankfully the trees provided adequate cover and did not hinder their gallop through. Their was a path wide enough, but Alkereth worried that this natural trail would taper into dense brush and branches. Horses were never meant to navigate woodlands; he knew this only too well, so he kept his eyes firmly forward. That is, until Emery slipped off.

Alkereth understood before she could say anything else. "Right. Let's go." He helped her up again, but this time, he took the front.

"Go on, girl. Come on. Go, go, GO!" He took up the reigns, gave it some slack for Hilda to have full control of her head, then dug his boots into the her flanks.

It was a good thing Alkereth followed his instincts. Some of the braver bounty hunters picked up their trail and rode their horses in hot pursuit. They did little to hide their voices; they were communicating to one another far behind them.

Alkereth focused. Just as he feared, the path became denser. He had no choice but to slow Hilda a bit to avoid crashing, but at least they were still at a gallop.

His mind raced. "I'm going to perform more magic to distract them. Get ready."

Lifting his palm, he muttered words in a strange language. The world around them had briefly darkened. Somewhere, through the trees, a pack of wolves howled an ear-splitting, unearthly call. They darted swiftly through the trees, snarling. The darkness lifted.

"Shadow beasts," he said. "They will keep our pursuers busy. But we still need to go. The things that come from shadows are fearsome indeed."

He was sure Emery would be alarmed by this, but Alkereth was far beyond caring about her feelings. Right now, his priority was to keep them safe. Unfortunately, casting magic also meant exhaustion was settling in. He had to be careful. Summoning shadowbeasts was especially draining.

[Rhindeer]

"I better get paid well for this," Emery shot back, covering the slight twinge his words provoked. "After all the trouble you've caused?"

Settling behind him, Emery was far less squeamish about contact than he was—partly because they needed to GO, but also because she just didn't share his delicate sensibilities. There was no hesitation as she hugged her good arm around his waist, laid her bad arm in her lap, and pressed herself against his back, practically clinging to him.

He would just have to deal.

Their pursuers were tenacious, she had to give them credit. They really wanted the "star"—and if they found out that the star was a man, would that change things?

Guess they would find out, because it sounded like they were gaining, and Hilda was made for the open roads and plains, not for the woods. For a moment she thought they were in trouble, and this time they would be down a person, but the mage spoke, and ice shot down her spine.

"Oh, I am so not ready—!" she managed to choke out, but then the space went dark, and things...snarling things, skulking howling things, went running through the trees.

Shadow beasts, he said.

Behind them, she could hear the voices, excitement in them as they seemed to have found their trail, but then that excitement took a sharp turn to terror. Hoots and calls became screams and shouts, human and horse alike.

Emery shuddered violently and pressed her cheek against the mage's back, clenching her eyes shut. Her arm tightened around him, practically squeezing the life out of him. "Will they turn on us?" she said, and then, "How the fuck are you doing this? You shouldn't be able."

[Avelithe]

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?!" He pulled out his sword to cut away at the branches. He hated treating his blade disrespectfully like this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"For the hundredth time, I don't know how I'm doing this! Lazamar's sake...! Do you want to die? Is that it? Then I wouldn't be complaining! Loosen your grip on me, woman! I can barely breathe!"

Cutting away at the branches made their journey a little more bearable, but the trail soon became uneven and started to slope downward. As Alkereth began to wonder if they were trekking down a valley, he heard the ethereal howls disappear. It meant that their pursuers either died, or gave up to save their skins. He sincerely hoped it was the latter. He was not fond of taking any more human lives.

"I hope you know where we are," Alkereth grumbled as he pulled Hilda back a little. "Steady, girl. Steady. Hey—hear that?"

There was the sound of a rushing creek nearby. Alkereth wondered if it was the same creek he bathed in that fed to this one.

"We could try walking in it. It would help keep others off our trail. The real question is, where would it lead? Thoughts?"

He actually wanted to hear Emery's input. If anyone knew this land well, it was her—at least, that is what he assumed.

He was not sure how much bad news he could take today.

[Rhindeer]

"Of course I know where we are. We're in the duchy of Bellkrath," Emery answered dully, quite aware of how unhelpful that was.

"But no, really. We're...somewhere between my hometown and where we need to be. Hell if I know where the creek goes. I always follow the road like a sane person, I've not gone traipsing about in the woods. You know what lives in the woods? Bears. You don't fuck with bears."

Now that they were no longer in immediate danger, her grip had loosened on the mage, at least, so she was no longer trying to crush his ribs. She still leaned heavily against him, though, too goddamn done to care. It was taking everything in her power not to throw up from the constant jostling of her arm as she desperately wished the path was smoother and Hilda's gait less jerky.

"We should follow it for a bit, just to be cautious, but we really want to be heading Northwest as soon as we can. We've lost enough daylight as it is."

She sucked in a deep breath, clutching the mage harder for balance as Hilda skidded for a step down the incline, cursing under her breath. Then she paused, blinked, and sniffed again.

"...You smell odd."

[Avelithe]

Feeling a little better now that he and the Mordecai are on the same page, he breathed out a content sigh and steered Hilda to the creek. It would do no good to tear down his defenses now; he stayed alert. Smart hunters would eventually check the creek, too, if they lost Hilda's trail near it. Maybe he was giving them too much credit... but it never hurt to stay careful.

"Bears, eh? Ooh—I think I heard a bear over there! Oh, dear." He rolled his eyes. "I know bears. If we see one, I will make sure we keep our distance. They will not attack us if we show them some respect."

Alkereth realized that the day had waned a bit since they had last parted from their camp. It did not concern him terribly. Despite popular belief, he was in no hurry to experience the end.

The creek was shallow enough that it would not hinder their progress. It sloped downward, but it was not steep.

"Right. We'll try this, then go northwest." He calculated the direction with a glance at the sun. He chuckled softly out of nowhere. Most earths like this one followed the same general cardinal direction. In fact, it shared a lot of similarities to places he has gone.

In his early days as Harbinger, as he was first discovering that other realms existed, he remembered asking Lunrath about the similarities the worlds have shared and how that could be. Not everything is a variable, he was told. Just like the earths he has known, there were humans, and horses, and eagles, and bears... but they also possessed their own  idiosyncrasies. Unicorns, and dragons, and other fantastic beasts that could only overwhelmed the imagination.

Alkereth would have enjoyed explaining this to Emery, and watch her mind explode from the wild information he kept secret. But that was just it. He had to keep it secret. It was as Lunrath once said: Not everyone takes such concepts well. Emery definitely would not.

He kept a lonely existence by choice. He never made friends. They asked too many questions. It is what it is.

Hilda splashed into the creek, breaking the Harbinger from his thoughts.

"How is your arm?" he asked Emery, turning briefly to check on her. "We need to splint it... or something... soon. It would just be easier if you let me heal it..."

Did she just... SMELL him?

Taken aback by that, he turned himself swiftly to avoid the shock of red filling his face. He cleared his throat. "You do not exactly smell like a basket of roses yourself."

[Rhindeer]

"I mean, it hurts like a bloody bitch, how do you think my arm is?" Emery muttered, once again stiffening at his offer of magic. "It's the shoulder, though. The pain comes from there. I've dislocated it before—oops, right? Like I said, it just needs popping and I'll be right as rain"

But even she could tell it was a little more than that. Fractured as well, maybe? It would be her luck that she could take worse tumbles and come out with barely a bruise, but one wrong landing and everything went to shit.

At least she had a victim she could use as a distraction, now that she no longer had the distraction of immediate danger. The mage wasn't subtle in the way he'd quickly looked away.

"Right, yeah, I smell like fucking garbage. Big surprise. I haven't bathed in days," Emery said with a one-armed shrug, because it was just the facts—the last time she'd had a chance to wash was in Ashamar. 

"But you..." She did an exaggerated sniff. "You do smell like roses. Kind of. Like a dusty old lady's bedroom."

Well, it was better than that, but she wasn't about to say so. She just found it strange, in a way. A little detail that seemed out of place after roughing it for a time and washing with creek water.

But, more than that, she'd found he was kind of fun to fuck with, and after the stress of earlier, and the current agony of now, she needed a diversion. "That definitely explains the white hair."

[Avelithe]

"You know what would help with the pain? ...Did you guess popping your shoulder back in? Because you're wrong." Alkereth snorted, watching ahead of them. Hilda seemed to have some trouble finding her footing. Hesitating, Alkereth stopped her for a moment, and slid of, his boots splashing into the water.

"I will guide her through," he explained. "It's a little slippery through here." He gave Hilda a reassuring pat. "Come on, girl, I got you. Let's go." A rush a pain flooded his mind as he thought of Lunrath. No matter how hard he tried to ignore her, she was persistent to burst in his thoughts without warning. They kept intruding at the worst of times. Hilda reminded him so much of her. He needed to focus.

Emery's stubbornness never failed to aggravate, but it was the one thing that kept Alkereth from spiraling. He supposed he should thank her. Maybe later.

"We'll have to stop soon and do something about it," he sighed. "Guess I have no choice but to pop your shoulder back in, you masochist."

The commentary about his smell made him uncomfortable. It felt too personal to talk about, but he saw no other way to evade it. "I've never heard anyone compare me to an old lady's bedroom." He was so embarrassed by it, that his impossibly pale face turned impossibly red.

"Wh-what about my white hair?" he asked, subconsciously scratching the back of his head. "If you're worried about your own smell, I could always throw you in the creek."

[Rhindeer]

Ugh, she didn't say it, but she really wasn't looking forward to the popping part. But she was also no doctor and knew of no alternatives. The last time it had happened in training, way back when, she just knew that's what they did to solve the issue. Only then there had been a good deal of booze beforehand, a strap to bite down on, and a lot of rest, recovery, and a sling after until the damaged tissue healed.

Of course she knew it wasn't going to stop the pain. Not immediately, anyway. Unfortunately.

She adjusted herself in the saddle when he vacated it, now having to focus on keeping herself upright on her own. It had been nice to use him as a pillow for a moment, as much as she hated to admit it. But beggars couldn't be choosers and it seemed, for now, they were at a strange sort of stalemate, forced to work together so they both got out of this in one piece.

...so he got out in one piece so he could be torn into pieces later.

That sick feeling returned, but she chalked it up to hunger. Just don't think about it. Just focus on the moment.

Like how much care he took with Hilda, and the obvious affection he expressed toward her. Or the kindness he had shown Emery when she had avoided the same.

Nope. Nope nope.

She was glad when he spoke, giving her something else to focus on. She could do teasing. Teasing was low stakes, and it was a way she often chose to cope with stressful—and in this case, also painful—situations. It was just another shield, just another wall. Easier to focus on this than her injury, or his witchcraft, or the danger they might still be in.

"Masochist, huh? Damn, you caught me. I'll be sure to moan ecstatically just for you, flower boy," she said dryly.

She swayed a little in the saddle, but shifted her weight to compensate. "Anyway, I'd advise skipping any creek tossing," she said with a snort. "You'd have to touch me to toss me, and horror of horrors, you might brush my leg and taint your virtue! The scandal! There goes your all your priestly vows, sinner. Wait. Are you blushing? Really?"

He'd gotten all weird ever since she brought up his scent. Then again, she supposed sniffing someone was weird, too.