Just a Man and his Rowboat [DragonSong][M]

[Goldie]

The moment Cora went down a large, burly man rushed in and scooped her up in his muscular arms. He was covered in black tattoos against his deeply tanned skin that crawled up his arms and across his naked torso. At first glance it was clear that each part of his body was a depiction of some story that seamlessly weaved together with the one next to it, and the one next to that, and so on and so forth. He looked to be in his forties and gave no indication to be anything but human. His hair was kept close shaven to his head, but he had a well groomed beard and mustache that put Nik's stubble to shame – not that he cared.

Before Morgana could even finish her question to Nik regarding helping the sea witch, she had been whisked away and the two were left alone in the room. Nik closed his eyes and leaned back on the chair while doing his best to control his breathing and calm his racing heart. He could hear Mor fussing around him and all he could manage for a time was a weary nod. Yes, he was fine. He was exhausted and his entire skin felt electrically charged in a way that made him itch but the buzzing was gone. In fact, for the first time since dying and coming back to life he actually felt human again.

"Hey," he caught her arm after a few grounding moments and opened his eyes but didn't lift his head from where it tilted back over the edge of the chair. He smiled at her. That stupid, drunken smile he got whenever he had a moment to truly think about the fact that this amazing and wonderful woman...er...siren....was a part of his life if even just for a brief moment. Nothing ever stayed with him long. Eventually they'd be ripped apart by...

But Thaleia was dead. She was dead. That meant the only thing that could screw this up was himself.

His smile grew wider, "I'm fine. I'm here. I...I feel fucking great."

[DragonSong]

Well. That seemed to take care of that. 

There was a part of Morgana that rather wanted to be concerned about how quickly an efficiently Cora's people seemed to operate--and the fact that someone had come the moment she needed them, as though they'd been able to...sense it somehow. 

But a much larger part of her was more concerned with Nik. And now with the fact that he was smiling at her in a wide, dopey way that made her suddenly wonder if he had somehow managed to consume a large amount of alcohol in the brief moment when she'd watch Cora carted from the room. 

"I--I'm glad you feel...better," she said slowly, cautiously. What sort of enchantment had that been? Was it having some lingering effect on him?

She reached over to brush her fingertips carefully over his cheek, gently pulling her arm from his grip so she could run her other hand over him as though checking for injury. "Do you think you can stand?"

[Goldie]

"Hey!" He protested quietly, but without stopping her inspection and with a mischievous glint in his eye as he finally lifted his head up from where it was lolling behind the chair, "I promise I'll let you inspect every inch of me when we're actually alone." He continued grinning at her.

He sensed her misgivings and realized he probably should have them as well but he just...didn't. He felt revitalized. He felt as normal as he possibly could given the situations. He didn't know what that meant in the long run -if he would owe Cora in some way or if he would have some kind of lasting side effects- but that didn't matter!

"Hey." The humor had faded from his voice and he reached to grab her hand and gently pulled her towards him as he stood in answer to her question. He pulled her tightly against him and wove his fingers through her hair. "I'm fine, love." He murmured, "More than fine. The pull is gone. The buzzing is gone."

He pulled away and gazed down at her with a gentle smile, "Let's just....take the win for now, yeah?" Gods knew they needed one.

[DragonSong]

Morgana gave him a very stern Look when he joked about her inspection of him, but it faded quickly back into a vaguely worried frown, even when he took her hand and pulled him into her as he stood from the chair. 

She did start to relax against him when his fingers twined through her hair, nuzzling into his shoulder for a moment before she pulled back enough to tilt her head up and look at him properly. "It's gone?" she repeated, the faint undercurrent of her tone torn between relief and suspicion. 

Her shoulders slumped a bit when he said they should take the win and--and she couldn't find it in her to argue with him. There were still so many questions, she was still worried, but...

She sighed and leaned into his embrace, pressing her face against his chest. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered, a hint of the fear she'd been doing her best to bury ever since he walked away from her in a trance on that beach bleeding into her voice. "I'm just...so glad you're okay..."

[Goldie]

"Believe me," he chuckled into her hair, "I am, too." And he hoped it was a permanent solution and not just a bandage tied tightly over a gushing wound that would look promising for a time before blood began spreading across the muslin. But, he needed to take his own advice and not dwell on the what ifs or the questions that still lingered.

So, he pulled back slightly and lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. As he gazed down at her, he couldn't help that goofy smile that spread across his lips again – that uncontrollable kind of smile that only appears in moments of intense happiness – the kind that lights up eyes and sets one's skin on fire. He leaned forward and kissed her so deeply that he could forget everything except the feel of her for a time. It was a kiss so passionate, so joyful, that nothing else mattered – not his death and resurrection, not his mother, not this weird horror story of a house....just her.

And then a pointed throat clearing interrupted his revere and he was forced to pull away and look up at the tattooed man who had come to spirit Cora away. He was back, alone this time, and had the look of someone who had been sent on the worst kind of chore imaginable.

"Come." His voice was gruff and gravely, "Your rooms are this way. The Lady's orders."