Frigga

Razi returned with Gertrude who had already sent for the local guard. The head of staff immediately saw to Sapphire while she guided Razi through Rosalind’s first aid. It was then Razi reported their breathing was shallow, and Gertrude ordered they be brought to the spare guest room near the top of the stairs and informed Razi how to call for the doctor. Though Marcus wasn’t happy about letting Rosalind go, he allowed Razi to pick them up and transport them because their condition was declining. Sapphire on the other hand seemed stable if unconscious, but couldn’t be moved until a doctor could determine it was safe.

The guard and doctor arrived shortly thereafter, and a guardsman brought Frigga to her room to wait for the physician. Razi followed close behind and waited with her, and she didn’t say anything about Rosalind’s condition other than it was bleak. She then saw to cleaning Frigga’s wounds until a nurse came and examined them both. Outside of headaches, some burns, and some stitches being needed, they were both in good shape.

A scuffle came from down the hall, and Frigga heard Marcus’ frantic yelling being interrupted by the guard captain’s order he be taken into town for questioning. “I’m not leaving!” said the Magnus-Monroe Heir, “Not until I know Ros is alright!”

“Do you deny that you brought the gun, Mister Magnus-Monroe?”

“No.“

“And do you deny you fired it at Lady Thorneheart?”

“No, but-“

“Then you’ll understand why you have to come with us!”

“I’m not saying I won’t! I just need-“ A quiet voice Frigga didn’t know interrupted him, and she couldn’t hear what was being said, but Marcus replied, “You’re sure?” The voice responded. “If… If anything changes, will you inform me? There’s a direct line to the station, right?”

Razi helped Frigga to the door, and they looked to see Marcus surrounded by the captain and three of his men. They were treating him like he was dangerous, and it sickened Frigga to see. “There is,” she said to answer Marcus’ question, and the small crowd turned to look at her. “I promise we’ll call for you.” Marcus’ wild panic settled at the answer and his eyes flitted to the closed door of Rosalind’s room. Frigga then looked at the captain. “Please be gentle with Marcus, he saved all our lives.”

The captain scoffed. “By shooting your aunt, Miss Thorneheart?”

“Yes, Master Bloodswell might have died if he hadn’t.”

“’S true,” Razi added. “Ol’ lady was tryin’ to kill ‘em, ‘ad ‘er ‘ands on their neck.”

The guards looked to their captain who frowned. “Thank you, but we still have to take Mister Magnus-Monroe in for questioning.” He nodded to his men, one of which grabbed at Marcus’ sleeve.

“Don’t touch me!” Marcus snarled, and Frigga had never heard him so angry.

“My apologies,” said the guard despite not sounding sorry at all. “Come on, the more you co-operate the faster you can get back.”

“Fucking touch me again and you’ll never get another loan. Richard, right?”

The guard startled and led Marcus down the stairs. “How’d you know that?”

“We met last year at the spring banquet.”

When their footsteps disappeared, the captain turned back to Frigga and Razi. “I’d like to ask a few questions, separately if you ladies don’t mind.”

Frigga wasn’t much help. The events of the evening were cloudy. She remembered casting the circle with Rosalind and being discovered by her aunt. She remembered being attacked, but after that details were foggy. Razi later told her that, despite getting her head knocked into the wall, she remembered almost everything and hadn’t had any mercy recounting every graphic detail.

After their interviews, a nurse came by and reported that Sapphire was stable enough to be moved to her room but that Rosalind was still being tended to and in serious condition. Everything that could be done for them had been, however, and now it was just a matter of waiting for them to awaken. She led them to the spare guest room where Rosalind was resting, and Frigga and Razi sat nearby, watching as the Thorneheart staff attended to them. They were covered in welts and burns, their neck was bruised, their hands and arms were shredded. “They’ve a cracked rib and arm also,” said the nurse who was attending Rosalind as she finished taking their pulse. “Likely will need heavy pain medication upon waking which was not at all certain an hour ago, but the Doctor believes they will.”

As Frigga stared at Rosalind’s sleeping face, tears prickled behind her eyes. “I don’t know what I’d have done,” she choked, and Razi gently rubbed the witch’s back in comfort from beside her.

The nurse, a young woman with black hair pulled back into a neat bun and an apron that was slightly stained noted Rosalind’s pulse on her clipboard. “I doubt they’ll be able to talk much either.”

“Not tha’ that’ll be much differen’ than usual,” Razi said. “Golden Boy’s th’ talker. Prolly talks enough for two.”

Frigga peered over at the nurse’s notes. “I wonder how Marcus figured out we needed him.”

“Lucky ‘e did,” Razi replied. “I would’a definitely been next on th’ ol’ lady’s list. I was jus’ comin’ to when ‘e shot ‘er.”

The nurse looked at Razi with a concerned expression. “You were knocked out, right? Did someone look at you?”

“Oh, yeah, I got checked.”

“I thought the shotgun woke you up?” Frigga asked.

Razi shook her head, then immediately winced, and covered her eyes with a palm. “Nah, I was ‘bout t’ try an’ get up, but I don’ know ‘ow much good I’d’ve been.”

A knock at the door announced the physician. “Miss Thorneheart?” he said as Frigga turned to him. She tried to stand, but he held out his hand, “No, please, sit. You both should be resting.” He pointedly looked at Razi who did nothing in reply, ignoring his admonishment. “I just needed to let you know that your aunt is stable and will be fine.”

“Shame,” Razi muttered, earning the doctor’s obvious disapproval.

“Thank you,” Frigga answered with genuine relief. “You said earlier she would need surgery?”

“Yes, I’ve booked her in for my first available slot. She’ll be fine until then, I think, but she’s not allowed to move too much, especially as she’ll be under guard for the foreseeable future. Now, the nurse gave you a look over earlier, but I’d like to double-check.”

Frigga submitted to his examination which was certainly more comprehensive than the nurse’s had been. Lights were shone in her eyes, her head rotated in all kinds of uncomfortable ways, and the cut on her arm was stitched up with practiced easiness. Razi hesitantly submitted to a second examination as well.

“You both have mild concussions,” he dryly stated. “But rest should be sufficient. If you notice your symptoms worsening, headache, memory issues, fatigue, et cetera, you can call for me and I’ll come straight back. I’ll need to see you in about a week anyway for those stitches, Miss, and I’ll be back tomorrow when the young Master wakes, but don’t wait if you notice anything amiss with your head.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Frigga said as she stifled a yawn. “And thank you for taking care of Sapphire and Rosalind.”

“Not at all, I’m glad to be at your service,” he replied as he gathered his tools back into his bag. “See you tomorrow, or I guess, later today.”

He was shown out by Gertrude, and when the door closed Frigga started sobbing, the weight of the night finally too much to bear. Razi immediately wrapped her arms around Frigga who buried her face in Razi’s neck.

“Everyone’s fine,” Razi comforted. “You’re fine, I’m fine, Vampire’s fine. We’re gon’ be free soon, Frigg.”

“Yes,” Frigga breathed, but she still couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling something was amiss. She knew Rosalind was right, something was different but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. But it could wait. Frigga was too relieved and exhausted to bother cleaning up too much, or even getting into bed properly. She and Razi fell asleep on top of Frigga’s bed still in their clothes and held each other close.

Frigga was stirred the next morning by Doris’ knock at her door. She usually was awake before breakfast made it to her room, but this morning she found her arms and legs sluggish. She started to rise but was immediately tugged back down by Razi who was beginning to stir, and the woman nestled in close. Frigga didn’t want to separate from Razi, but she needed to let Doris in.

“Raz,” Frigga whispered, “I need to-“

“Nah,” Razi slurred. “Y’don’ need t’ do nothin’.”

“Eat?”

Razi grunted. “I guess tha’s a thing we gotta do.”

Frigga sleepily giggled. “I have to open the door, then.”

“S’long as you come back right away.”

“I promise,” Frigga murmured as she placed a kiss on Razi’s forehead who winced slightly before releasing her captive. Frigga slid from the bed and groaned as her head throbbed. She trudged to her door, leaned heavily on its handle, and let Doris in. “Good morning,” she greeted sleepily. “Just by the bed is fine.”

“Oh!” the attendant startled causing Razi to groan and cover her head with a pillow in protest. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I wasn’t aware you had company, Miss.”

“Not a problem.”

The servant placed the tray on the bedside table and curtsied. Frigga didn’t miss the glint in her eye. “Shall I fetch another?”

“Yes, please,” Frigga replied as she crawled back onto her bed, stumbled slightly, and gently pried her pillow from Razi’s grip. “And you can keep the door open so I don’t have to get back up. I’m not well this morning.”

“Yes, Miss Thorneheart.” Doris scurried out of the room as quickly as if her skirts hems were on fire.

“Congrats,” Razi moaned beside her once they were alone. “The entire town knows in an hour, two if we’re lucky.”

Frigga chuckled as she plucked a bowl of apple slices off the tray to nibble at. Her hands felt heavy and slow, like they weren’t quite getting her commands right away. She was probably just tired. “It’s fine. It’s not important anymore. Here,” she offered Razi an apple slice.

Razi took it and ate it in a single bite. “Lemme guess: apples an’ toast?”

“And a side of yogurt.”

Razi snorted. “Guess they weren’t told I was fired. Tha’s wha’ they do when they gotta throw breakfast together in a rush.” She slowly sat up with her eyes screwed closed.

Frigga reached a shaking hand to rest at the base of Razi’s head and called on her magic. She wasn’t sure if her magic was entirely intact, though the tests from the night before had been good. To her enormous relief, the familiar rush sprung to life and she directed healing energy into the stiff muscles in Razi’s neck. While she didn’t have a lot of energy to spare, Razi was clearly in a lot of pain and the moan of relief that escaped the woman made the expense worth it. “Better?”

“Yeah, bit. Still got it, but s’less now,” she mumbled as she stole another apple slice. Razi then leaned over and placed a smiling kiss to Frigga’s shoulder, her hand covering the witch’s that played with Rosalind’s corded crystal that hung around her neck. “Good mornin’, beautiful.”

Doris brought up a second tray a few minutes later as well as a pot of tea large enough for two. She set the tray down in front of Razi with a sanitized and entirely too innocent, “I suppose you won’t be working today, Wood?”

Razi levelled a tired glare at her, but Frigga came to her rescue. “Razi resigned yesterday.”

Doris’ face remained carefully neutral. “Oh, I didn’t see a notice about that. Shall I inform the rest of the staff for you, then?”

“Like y’need my permission,” Razi replied flatly. “You can add it to whatever else you’ve already blabbed.”

Frigga rubbed at her hand that had started tingling somewhat painfully. “Yes, Doris, if you could inform…” Frigga blanked. She couldn’t for the life of her remember the head of staff’s name. She looked at Razi, her brows knit tightly. “Um, Raz?”

Razi looked at her with a puzzled frown and watched Frigga flounder. She seemed to be making a calculation before offering, “Gert?”

“Yes!” Frigga breathed, unnerved by her sudden amnesia. She looked back at Doris with a smile to conceal her alarm. “Please let Gertrude know, we’d appreciate it. And I won’t need help dressing this morning.”

Doris curtsied again. “Yes, Miss. I’ll come up for your trays in an hour, then.”

She left, leaving Razi and Frigga blessedly alone. Frigga looked back at Razi who was looking at her grimly. “What was tha’?”

“What?”

“You forgot Gert’s name?”

Frigga looked away from Razi to hide her embarrassment. “No, I didn’t forget. It just escaped me for a minute.”

“Right,” Razi did not sound convinced but continued picking at the tray Doris had brought for her. “Didn’ the doctor say somethin’ ‘bout memory loss?”

“He did. It must be the concussion. It’ll go away.”

Razi didn’t respond to that and instead opted to turn the conversation to lighter topics for the remainder of breakfast for which Frigga was grateful. The two of them ate at their leisure, though a bit faster than maybe they would have because Frigga was anxious to check in on Rosalind. Once she finished, Frigga went to her wardrobe to pick something out, something she’d been looking forward to; she usually just put on whatever was chosen for her that day, but now she stared at the wardrobe, unsure how to proceed. Frigga ran her hands over the options and winced as her head began screaming. How did people do this every day? The fabrics all blended together as she tried to remember which dress was which.That knowledge eluded her, skirting away from her grasp every time she came close to it. Surely she wasn't this inept at dressing herself? Surely she wasn’t this helpless? But as she stood in front of all the options, a haze paralyzed her. She tried, really tried, but she couldn’t pick something.

Razi made her way over. “Alright?” she asked, concern evident in the woman’s tone.

Frigga shook her head. “Yes, I just… I don’t know, I guess I’m still shellshocked from last night.”

“Grab somethin’ comfortable. We’re not goin’ nowhere today.”

Comfort, something simple to focus on. She closed her eyes and focussed on how the fabric of each dress felt against her skin. Some were smooth, some scratchy, but Frigga picked out the softest dress she owned, a simple, loose-fit blue dress that she could easily do up herself even if her hands weren’t co-operating for some reason. She’d worn it a hundred times, and no wonder, so it was familiar and comforting. It had pockets too, which was nice.

They brought Frigga’s clothes into her bathroom and started the process of cleaning her up; Frigga was desperate to wash the terror and violence off, to feel the water carry the horror from the night before away. The bath was short and pragmatic, but it was still soothing to spend time getting clean with Razi. Once bathed, dressed, and wounds re-wrapped, Razi had Frigga sit at her dressing table and stood behind her as she ran her fingers through the curls. “I asked Doris t’ teach me,” she said.

Razi’s hands moved with more confidence than they had the week previous. Frigga’s chest filled with warmth, and she relished the feeling of the woman’s hands in her hair. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’ be, I’m still not great. But I kinda got a better grip on it now, so I don’ gotta be ashamed, at least.”

“At least you can take a bath on your own,” Frigga muttered, “and don’t need someone to pick clothes out for you.”

“‘Ey, don’t do tha’,” Razi admonished before she softened. “Besides, I’ll be 'appy to ‘elp you wit’ bath an’ curls as much as y’need.”

Frigga looked up at her in the mirror. Of course she was used to someone doing her hair but… This felt different, more intimate; Razi’s hands were stronger but less practiced. It warmed Frigga’s heart, and she thought back to how Razi had taken care of her these last few months. “Thank you.”

Razi tied off the braid and pressed a kiss onto the top of Frigga’s head. “Of course, Princess.” The title was usually for teasing, but there was no teasing today, just fondness.

They went to Razi’s room so she too could change into fresher clothes. While she changed, Frigga noticed the rosewood block from the arcane supply shop on the table by Razi’s armchair. It was surrounded by shavings and was now an oval shape. There were a few oval shaped-blocks laying around, actually, but they were all very small and still rough, nowhere near finished. They looked a bit like large beads or possibly small pieces of jewelry, maybe Razi was making that pendant she’d offered all those months ago.

Once Razi was freshened up, they walked hand-in-hand to see Rosalind. The nurse informed them as they entered the room that the young Head of Household had yet to awaken. Their bandages had been refreshed and their left arm had been splinted due to the break. Frigga’s heart broke seeing them in such a horrible state, and guilt threatened to overtake her. She took off the corded necklace they’d put on her the night before and slung it over Rosalind’s head to rest on their chest before she sat at their right side and gently took hold of their good hand, though it was still heavily bandaged.

“Wow.” Razi mumbled from her spot standing behind Frigga. “That’s… jus’, wow.” Frigga nodded, and they sat in silence. The nurse came in once to check in, but there was no sign of change.

Before long there was a distant knock on the home’s front door and Razi left to investigate. Frigga gently rubbed Rosalind’s hand with her thumb and took in a deep breath. How had she gotten off so easily and they had not? It wasn’t fair. She tried to push the guilt down, Rosalind had volunteered and knew this was a possibility, she should respect their choice. But it didn’t matter; she had put them in danger. They were suffering because of her.

Before she could ruminate further, the door opened and Razi returned with a guest. Frigga jumped up and rushed to meet him in a warm hug. “Thank you, Marcus, how did you know we needed help last night?”

Marcus gave her a quick squeeze before stealing her spot and grabbing Rosalind’s hand. He was a mess: his mascara had smudged into rings around his eyes and smeared a few streams down his cheeks from tears he hadn’t managed to wipe away, his skin was paler than usual, and his eyes were dark like he hadn’t slept at all. “I had a feeling,” he replied with a hoarse voice that barely resembled his own, “when Sapphire said you were sick. Ros was scared yesterday morning, so when you weren’t at dinner I figured you guys were doing the thing. How are they?”

Frigga put a hand on Marcus’ shoulder comfortingly. “The doctor said Sapphire nearly killed them but because you showed up they will recover.”

Marcus pressed his forehead to Rosalind’s hand, and a shuddering sigh escaped. “I had to get back, I can’t fucking believe… Fuck.”

“Thought you were arrested,” Razi questioned as she shoved her hands in pockets.

“My father knows the captain and I co-operated, but I just…” He didn’t finish his statement, his voice cracked under the strain of holding back the tears he was actively fighting.

Frigga placed a hand on his shoulder gently. “They’re alright, Marcus. They’re going to be fine.”

Marcus lost his battle and broke into tears, sobbing into Rosalind’s bed and bandaged hand. Their injuries were well-dressed, but some superficial cuts on finger tips poked out from dressings. Razi and Frigga found other seats and stayed with Marcus who asked them for more details and told them about his night with the guard. When the authorities arrived shortly after, the women were pulled away for more questioning, so they left him to stand vigil. The nurse or a servant dropped in periodically to check on Rosalind or ask Marcus if he needed something, but nothing changed. He did ask for someone to send his father a note on his behalf, but eventually Marcus drifted off, leaning on the bed, but he never let go of Rosalind’s hand.

Rosalind

As Rosalind began to awaken, they slowly became aware of the pain. It was everywhere, but their left arm, chest and head were the worst. Their consciousness floated in a sea of sleep, but the low hum of pain helped to tether Rosalind to wakefulness. What else could they feel? Behind their shut eyelids they vaguely sensed a brightness. That wouldn’t be fun when their eyes opened, they would have a massive migraine when they finally managed to wake up, so they’d keep their eyes shut as long as possible. They were in a bed on their back, which was uncomfortable. Rosalind shifted, and a jolt of agony ripped through their chest so they immediately stopped trying to move. A soft whine escaped their incredibly raw throat, their entire body pulsed with tenderness, and oh Gods it was everywhere. They couldn’t remember what happened, where they were, or why they were in so much pain, but as their pulse quickened, they suddenly became aware that they were not alone; someone was holding their hand.

Rosalind cracked their eyes open and their vision was blurry, but someone with long blond hair was leaning on the side of the bed and had dozed off: Marcus. They then took a brief look around the room and it wasn’t familiar. It caused their heart rate to spike again, but if Marcus was nearby they were safe.

Rosalind was incredibly thirsty and very much in pain, but they just wanted to get up and know what was going on. They squeezed his hand which was enough and Marcus woke with a slight start. “Baby, you’re up!”

Rosalind shifted again and was greeted by the same pain in their chest. Marcus reached behind them to help them sit up. They probably should have stayed on their back, but Rosalind needed water and something strong for this unholy pain in their ribs. They coughed and their ribcage felt like it was being pierced with knives, but they couldn’t help it; their lungs needed more air and their throat was drier than a mouthful of cinnamon. Marcus retrieved a glass and helped them sip which eased their discomfort somewhat.

“Where am I?” They winced at the sound of their voice, or more accurately the absence of their voice, and the pain in their throat.

Marcus grabbed Rosalind’s hand again. “Thorneheart Manor still.”

They cast a look around the room again; it wasn’t familiar to them at all, but the style certainly felt right. Light streamed in through a nearby window. “The time?”

“It’s 2:00. You’ve been unconscious since last night, and I’m so relieved you’re awake.”

Rosalind’s stomach flipped and their shoulders and ribs spasmed. “Was that in doubt?”

“They weren’t sure you’d wake up for a bit there, that’s what Frigga told me.”

Frigga. Thorneheart Manor. Right. They glanced over themself finding bandages everywhere. Well, fuck. “Is she alright?”

“Yes, she’s fine. You did it, Baby, she said you guys did it!”

Rosalind leaned their head back on the headboard and looked up at the ceiling to think through what had happened when they suddenly remembered how it ended. “Where’s Sapphire? Why am I alive?”

“I shot her.”

Rosalind’s eyes darted back to Marcus. He wasn’t kidding, the man was more serious than they’d ever seen him. Though Rosalind’s memory was hazy, they did remember a loud sound before being suddenly released, but the memory was shrouded. “You…shot Sapphire Thorneheart?”

“I followed her here and found her trying to kill you. So I shot her. She survived, but…”

Rosalind sighed. Of course she had.

Marcus squeezed Rosalind’s hand again, lowered himself to lean on the bed’s edge, and nuzzled his face into their thigh. “Ros, why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” he asked quietly.

Rosalind slowly opened their eyes again and tangled their good hand in Marcus’ tangled hair to play absently with the strands. “You wouldn’t have let me do it and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I would have tried to help.”

“I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

“But it’s fine if you do?”

“I had to try, Marcus.”

The man peered up before he buried his face in Rosalind’s hip again. “I know, and I’m so proud of you.” He took a deep breath and Rosalind enjoyed his warmth while waiting for the second part of his statement.

“But?”

They felt the man grin against their hip before he sat back up with an exaggerated pout on his beautifully dishevelled features. “But I’m also really mad at you.” Rosalind smiled and reached for Marcus’ face. He leaned in and let them touch him, kiss his forehead, and wipe the smudged mascara away. But they offered no apology; they weren’t sorry and knew they had already been forgiven.

“I need to go home,” they demanded when Marcus pulled away.

“They want to keep you here until you’re stable.”

Rosalind groaned. “I am stable enough.”

“You were almost strangled. Just stay put, please.” He stood and looked towards the door. “I’m going to go get the doctor, where did he run off to?” he murmured to himself.

But Rosalind interrupted his exit. “Marcus?” Marcus turned back to Rosalind. “I must speak with Frigga,” they requested with as much seriousness as they could muster, knowing the effect was a little pathetic. Marcus quickly planted a kiss on Rosalind’s cheek before leaving to fetch the doctor.

Rosalind leaned back against the headboard again to evaluate their injuries. They moved different parts of their body experimentally, and found everything working albeit stiffly or with some pain. At the very least they knew everything was still functioning. Judging by the wrappings, they probably had a few broken bones and they were surprised they could talk at all; raspy, but still with some kind of dignity. 

Marcus returned with the doctor, followed by Frigga and Razi shortly thereafter. The physician confirmed their suspicions: a broken left arm, two broken ribs, severe bruising of the chest and throat, and numerous lacerations down both arms and hands. Thankfully Rosalind was not concussed, though they would probably still have a headache for quite a while. He asked that Rosalind stay at Thorneheart Manor for one night, but Rosalind had no intention of honouring the request. They needed a proper cup of tea, no offence to the Thornehearts’ staff; the manor’s tea was fine, but it just wasn’t the same.

When the Doctor left to see Sapphire, Rosalind motioned for Frigga to sit near them on the bed instead of in the chair beside it. “How are you feeling?”

Frigga smiled, placing a hand gently on their shoulder. “Good. I’m so relieved you’re alright.”

Rosalind became grave. “How is your magic?”

She lit up her hand with a soft blue glow. “Seems fine to me.”

Rosalind sighed, leaned in close, grabbed her chin roughly with their unbroken right arm, and scrutinized her.  Their magic reserves were far from replenished, but Rosalind pushed themself because they were far too curious and impatient to wait any longer. Razi and Marcus looked at each other quizzically, and Frigga was also surprised but she allowed them to continue. Rosalind then closed their eyes, placed two fingers on Frigga’s forehead, and channeled magic into their hand. Their energy sunk into her, and Rosalind began running their magic through her energetic pathways to look for disturbances. She seemed to be mostly left unscarred throughout the majority of her system which was a relief, but as they searched deeper into the streams that entwined in the brain, they found what they’d feared.

Rosalind’s body began to ache, and they also sensed Frigga’s discomfort, so they wrapped up their test and rescinded their survey. When they pulled away and opened their eyes, they looked around the room to reground themself. The air in the room was tense, Razi seemed less than enthusiastic about their sudden assessment, and Marcus just looked confused. They looked back to Frigga and leaned back on the headboard, inwardly bracing themself. “How’s your memory?”

The question hung heavy in the air. Frigga stared at them briefly before looking away at the window nearby. She briefly considered, but the silence told Rosalind more than enough. “Fine, I think? I did forget my attendant’s name, and I had a difficult time getting dressed, but that was just because I don’t usually do that without help. The doctor said I might have some issues because of my concussion, but nothing that can’t be justified by that.”

“Concussion? You didn’t hit your head.”

Frigga blinked at them. “I didn’t? I thought I would have after the ritual.”

They shook their head. “No, you were set down. I would never have allowed such a thing.”

Razi rushed over to stand beside the bed and put a hand on Frigga’s shoulder “They’re righ’, but I thought you’d ‘it it when I was out.”

Frigga shook her head. “No, I hadn’t.”

Rosalind grimaced. “The contract caused brain damage on its way out. It will manifest as trouble recalling, overreacting to little inconveniences, trouble handling small items or writing, imbalance, et cetera. It is possible that you’ll see improvement with treatment, but,” they paused, not relishing the worst bit of the news, “it will never fully heal.”

Razi’s hand on Frigga’s shoulder tightened and Marcus covered his mouth with his hands in shock. Frigga stared at Rosalind, and they couldn’t quite read the woman’s emotion. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Do you really think it’s permanent?”

“Yes.”

“Will…will it get worse?”

Rosalind carefully considered before answering. “I’d like to think the price has been paid, but it’s not impossible that it might progress. It is unlikely, though.”

Frigga nodded. “I wonder what would have happened…if you hadn’t been there?”

Rosalind shifted and looked to Marcus, silently asking him to come closer because his touch was comforting. He sat on their other side and placed a hand on their knee. “It looked like it was going to sever some connections in your brain. You would have survived but been a mere shell of yourself with no access to magic at all.”

Razi shuddered, her face twisted with rage and discomfort. “That would’ve been too ‘igh a price. Fuck, th’ cost of this is already too much.”

But Frigga gently placed her hand over Razi’s and looked up at her with a reassuring smile. “I’m alright, though. It’s fine.”

Razi bent over and kissed her forehead. “Liar,” she muttered, her eyes narrow from repressing some kind of emotion. “Brain damage isn’t a fuckin’ joke.”

Frigga reached up to cup her cheek, apparently having forgotten Rosalind and Marcus were present. “I chose this,” she reassured.

“‘Cause of me.”

“Do you regret it?”

Razi looked as if she’d been doused with a bucket of icy water. “‘Course not, but… If I ‘adn’t… If I’d’a backed off like I should’ve, you’d be ‘ealthy.”

Frigga smiled. “And miserable.”

Razi bowed her head and her shoulders were heavy, a posture that suited the woman like a wolf trying to sleep in a cat’s bed. “You’re right.” She took up Frigga’s knuckles and kissed them. “I don’ regret you, never, an’ I promise I’ll take care of you.”

Frigga gathered her love in for a warm embrace and the two held each other for a long while. Marcus tactfully moved the visit along before the doctor came back and, after rushing the others from the room, privately gave his permission for Rosalind to go home when they felt like attempting to stand but insisted he see them first thing tomorrow to check on them and to deliver pain tranquilizers. Rosalind said a silent prayer of gratitude for that and for their cannabis stash at home. Once the physician was done, Frigga and Razi walked him out and left Rosalind in Marcus’ care once more.

They were in much better spirits knowing they would be home soon; they wanted to suffer in privacy. They started their first attempt to stand when Marcus sat next to them and blocked their escape. “I…I need to tell you something,” he said.

Rosalind was annoyed, antsy, and just wanted to get going, but Marcus had become serious. No, actually he was nervous, his knee started to bounce and he delicately fidgeted with a flower he’d found sometime in the last ten minutes, a red camellia. Rosalind’s interest piqued.

Marcus took a deep breath as he looked away from them. “When I found Lady Thorneheart trying to kill you, I… I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to live without you.”

Rosalind blinked at the startling sentence. What was he saying? They placed their good hand on Marcus’ arm in comfort. “I’m not going anywhere, My Love.”

He chuckled softly, but he was still looking away from them. “I love you, Rosalind.”

They smiled and their heart fluttered. He’d already told them as much, but it didn’t matter because hearing him say those words was never going to get tired. “And I you.” He finally looked back up at Rosalind. That hadn’t been it though, there was more. “What?”

He looked away again as he twirled the flower in his fingers. “You know when we were talking last week, I told you about why I agreed to the engagement with Frigga?”

“About the future?

“Yeah, and I said that I’ve been trying to figure out what direction I wanted to go?”

“Yes.”

“And who I should do it with?”

Rosalind stared at him, unsure what he was trying to say. Marcus turned back to them, took up Rosalind’s hand one more time in one hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. His own hands were trembling. Finally, he held out the camellia to them with his free hand and asked in the quietest voice they’d ever heard from him, “Will you marry me?”

What? Did he just say that? He did. He just asked that. Rosalind stared at him, their mind too blank with surprise to say a word while their heart suddenly pounded with rampant, disbelieving joy.

Marcus dropped their hand, his face suddenly filled with doubt. “I-I know it’s sudden, I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so impulsive. I shouldn’t have-“

Rosalind grabbed his chin. “Yes,” they whispered.

Marcus froze. He met their eyes and looked just as surprised as Rosalind felt. “Yes?”

Rosalind released his chin, accepted the camellia, laid it in their lap, and retook his hand. They wanted to say more, wanted to lavish this man with all the adoration that was flooding their heart, but their mind still reeled and their words still failed them. It was all they could do to repeat the man’s words back to him with their raspy, “Yes, Marcus, I will marry you.” 

Marcus incandesced with a smile as he gently leaned in and kissed them. Everything still hurt but Rosalind didn’t care; their heart overflowed with unbridled bliss, happiness they’d only ever partially been able to glimpse at. This man was impulsive and shamelessly romantic, and Rosalind knew they needed him more than they’d needed anyone.

When Rosalind hesitantly pulled away, they leaned their forehead against Marcus’. They knew they were smiling like an idiot but was too happy to care. He reached up and palmed Rosalind’s cheek as they appreciated one another until, inevitably, Rosalind had an uncomfortable thought. Their discomfort reflected in their face because Marcus quirked a single brow and asked, “What?”

Rosalind grimaced. “I need to speak with your father.”

Marcus burst out laughing and jumped off the bed, finally allowing Rosalind to stand. “I think he’s coming to pick me up soon, I’ll bring him up here if you want.”

Rosalind sighed, and they were already stressed by this. They began the task of trying to get up from the bed, the stiffness in their legs protesting. “I don’t see why we should delay his joy.”

Marcus ignored their sarcasm. “Exactly!”

They winced as they swung their legs off the side of the bed. “He won’t be happy. He doesn’t like me.”

“Nonsense, he’ll love you!”

“But he doesn’t like me presently.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and offered an arm to his fiancé as support. “He’ll have to start loving you, then! You’ll come over for that dinner, and it’ll all blow over.”

Rosalind’s feet finally touched the marble floor. Gods it was cold, and their tight calves screamed in protest. “If you say so, My Love.”

Marcus

In the distance, Marcus heard the doors of Thorneheart Manor admit his father. The large man didn’t sound cross, or not when he spoke to Frigga who had greeted him at the door, and Marcus winced to hear him jovially inquire after why his son had been detained by the authorities. Marcus sighed, helped Rosalind back onto the bed now that they’d finished dressing, and kissed them.

“Good luck,” he murmured, just as they whispered the same, and Marcus walked down to the little sitting room near the front door where Frigga and Razi were speaking with his father. His stomach fluttered with nerves, but it would be fine! Theodore only ever wanted what was best for him, and it wasn’t like this was coming out of nowhere! He knew Marcus had been courting Rosalind. Sure, it’d only been ten days, but they’d known each other for years! Ten days or ten weeks, what was the difference if Marcus knew he’d found the right person?

Marcus knocked on the parlour door softly. “Father?” he asked, “Rosalind wants to speak with you as soon as possible. Please.”

Theodore, Frigga and Razi blinked at him, and thankfully his father didn’t say anything embarrassing. He just stood. “As long as we can chat after! What’s Master Bloodswell got to talk to me about that’s so urgent?”

Marcus led him up the stairs and avoided his father’s eyes. “Uh, I think it’ll be better if they tell you.”

When they reached the top of the steps, Theodore looked over his son. “Are you alright? You look exhausted.”

“You’ve got Captain Yuri to thank for that. He had me arrested for saving peoples’ lives.” Marcus nodded to the guest room. “They’re in there. I’ll be back downstairs when you're done.”

His father eyed him skeptically before nodding. “Get yourself some tea, son,” he said softly before he turned, entered the room, and closed the door behind him.

Marcus was tempted to eavesdrop, but he rejoined Frigga and Razi in the parlour instead. Razi served him a cup of tea, which he took gratefully, and his first sip warmed his insides with comfort. “So what now?” Marcus asked. He tried to pay attention, but his eyes darted to the door every so often and his leg bounced like it was hooked up to a motor.

“I’m going away,” Frigga replied before sipping, and Marcus noticed her using two hands to hold her teacup. “So I’ll have to call an emergency coven meeting. I suppose I was going to have to anyway after last night.”

Marcus’s knee kept bouncing, but his heart lurched at the thought of Honeyshore being without Frigga again. “You’re leaving? Why?”

“I’ve always wanted to explore and see different places, so we’re going to travel.”

“What about your injury?”

“I’ll take care of ‘er.” Razi put an arm around Frigga who smiled back up at her, leaning into her side.

The sight soothed some of the jitters in Marcus’ legs; seeing his friend so happy after suffering for so long was a welcome relief. When she’d come to Rosalind’s home to ask for help, she’d looked like an empty shell, brittle and translucent, and she was still brittle, but now she shimmered with optimism. As the three of them chatted and he recommended places they might like to go, Marcus noticed how her body language was much more relaxed than he’d ever seen before. She smiled a little wider, she laughed a bit louder, and she was confident in herself and her decisions. It was like he was talking to a more vibrant version of the woman he knew, one that had approximately an ocean’s weight of sadness lifted off her shoulders, and Marcus was incredibly happy for her.

They chatted a little longer until they were rejoined by a bewildered Theodore. The man did not take a seat, but instead shook his head gravely and rubbed his temples. “Marcus Aeris Magnus-Monroe, are you out of your senses!?”

Marcus grinned sheepishly and set down his teacup. “Whatever could you mean, father?” He heard his nerves bleed into his tone.

“Rosalind Bloodswell?!”

Marcus stood up hesitantly, as if he were approaching a wild animal, but he kept his tone cheerful. “What about them? They’re wonderful!”

His father was upset, very upset, his cheeks were crimson and his volume rose. “They’re a Bloodswell! The lot of them are untrustworthy to their core! You asked a Bloodswell to marry you?!”

Razi and Frigga looked at each other, nodded, and silently left the room, but it was Marcus’ turn to get upset. He knew his father wouldn’t be overjoyed, Rosalind had been right about that, but there was no need to be mean. “Untrustworthy? Rosalind worked with the authorities to help the Thornehearts and uncover the truth for all of us!”

“And inherited their Head of Household status years earlier than anyone in generations!”

“They risked their life for Frigga!”

“Who said she’s going to be travelling, so now there’s a vacuum Rosalind is going to conveniently fill until she gets back or Leland comes of age in thirteen years!”

“Father, they’re not like Victoria!”

“How do you know they’re not using you?”

“They don’t want this! They don’t want to be leader, they don’t want any of it!”

Theodore paused, clearly not convinced, and continued at a much lower, graver tenor. “Marcus, you don’t know that family like I do. I know you have an innate insight into others, you’re so good with people, but you cannot deny that you can be idealistic and see the world through a romanticized perspective. I wish you would listen to me on this.”

Marcus fell quiet, reached deep into his heart, and looked for something that would make him understand. What could he say that would soothe his father? He dug through his feelings, pulling them out and inspecting them like he was rifling through a treasure chest. He thought about their evenings together, about how patient they’d been, how deeply he’d come to care for them, how long they’d cared for him; he still couldn’t believe it had been five years. “Father, I love them. I love them so much, and when I’m with them I feel safe, I feel cherished and strong. They love me, father, they’ve loved me for such a long time. They’re not who they’ve had to pretend to be, they’re kind and smart and they do so much for me that they don’t have to. I want to marry Rosalind, and I want you to know the Rosalind I know because they’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

Theodore listened carefully and sank onto the couch. He wasn’t fully persuaded, but at least he was taking Marcus seriously. “This is what I had wanted,” he grumbled. “I wanted you to marry within the coven, but why did it have to be the one family I hoped you’d stay away from?” He sighed in the way that told Marcus that his father was caving. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ve always said I’d support you no matter what because I love you,” Theodore took a pause before finishing his thought, “But if I see any treachery from them, any plotting or scheming, I won’t be afraid to expose them.”

“They’re a lot like mum.”

Theodore frowned. “What do you mean, “like mum”?”

Marcus walked over and grasped his father’s shoulder gingerly. He smiled and adopted a softness only the son of his mother could. “She was quiet and reclusive too, and she wasn’t fond of parties or crowds. You told me she was so shy that it took months before she would even talk to you.” The two of them laughed at the memory. “She was loving and warm but only if she opened up to you which took a really long time. That’s what you always said. Rosalind is like that too.”

Marcus’ mother had been a beautiful person, Theodore always said that he’d never known her equal and Marcus never thought he would either until recently. “You look just like her,” Theodore mused, “and I’m not surprised that you’d love someone like her too.”

Marcus chuckled. “I take after you.”

“I just can’t imagine Rosalind Bloodswell being loving or caring.” The large man stood to his feet and clasped his son’s shoulder. “But I’ll trust your judgement for now, and I look forward to being proven wrong. I love you.”

Marcus fell into the embrace of his father, relieved to have him on board even if it was just provisionally. “Thank you. This means everything to us. I love you too.”

It wouldn’t be easy, there was weeks of tense negotiations and months of stressful planning ahead, but deep in Marcus’ heart he knew that, if he had his father on one side and Rosalind on the other, he could do anything. They would be a real family together.