Curious and Curiouser

[alektobone]

Good Samaritan || Alekto and Preston

[gifteddoc-blog]

alektobone‌:

Alekto paused, studying the faerie before her as she stepped away from the door. The lack of recognition in his gaze and the comment upon her appearance was enough reassurance that the pain consuming her body wasn’t sufficient to alter her grip on the glamour upon her, even if she was well aware of the need to expose her injuries to the medic if she wished to derive any use from the encounter. Before she could open her mouth to respond, however, glamour already beginning to seep into her voice to alter it into that of a stranger, the appearance of a second man caught her attention.

Or, more accurately, the speed in which he darted towards her and began assessing her injuries shifted her focus almost immediately to the second stranger, surprise more than evident upon the sidhe’s features. For a moment, she lingered, until her shock was quick to morph into frustration at the realization of how human the man’s appearance was.

Truly, Alekto hated the fucking SIght. At the moment however, she possessed little option on the matter, particularly when turning her head to look at the human sent an agonizing jolt of pain through the destroyed portions of her neck and jaw that caused the sorceress to flinch immediately. Damn it all. And damn Balthazar Black in particular for being so fucking stubborn. “No iron, I’m fine, aside from the damned arm and burns” she hissed in a motion that caused a terrible pull upon the burned flesh of her face, still ensuring glamour obscured her voice in the event that the other faerie could hear, regardless of how unlikely it seemed that either would recognize her by her voice. That, perhaps, was one of the few good occurrences of the evening. If the doctor was to have recognized her, he would have likely done so by now.

Somewhat begrudgingly, the sorceress did as instructed and moved towards the other room, gaze immediately scanning her surroundings as she did so. Her body remained tense from the pain and the fight with Black, to a point where her movements were almost akin to a wary predator assessing its environment before proceeding. The concept of lingering with a Seelie doctor had already been a source of unease. The concept of lingering with a Seelie doctor in possession of the Sight, however, only served to intensify the part of her that wished she’d taken her chances riding back to Belladonna or one of the stray villages along the way. 

Forcing her expression into emotionlessness, the sorceress glanced briefly at the other faerie before turning her attention to the human. “Do what you need, but make it quick.” 

“It would help if you’d drop your glamour please,” Preston said, the sternness of his words not quite matching the polite request. He was more than a little frustrated with the number of patients that came in with glamour. Even as he often snapped at Sindri to be polite to his patients, he had to agree with the hob. What was the point of coming to a doctor only to hide one’s injuries? “My assistant is able to, well, assist better if he can also see the extent of your injuries.

He quirked at eyebrow at her short request. “Odd request, that one,” Preston commented. “I’m going to peel your shirt up just a bit here so I can get to your wound,” he said, offering a polite warning before he reached tug at the material. Working around the Seelie women had been a rather interesting learning experience, as so many of them seemed to think he could stitch cuts and treat burns through several layers of clothing.

“I find though, that when patients ask me to be quick,” Preston continued his earlier train of thought as though he hadn’t interrupted himself. “Particularly patients who also come in with glamour magick, there’s something to be hidden from me. Sindri, hand me the needle there, and clean up some of this blood so I can see the edges of the wound. No, to the left a bit, I need to be able to see what I’m doing as well,” he muttered instructions to the hob.

He glanced up to catch the woman’s eye for half a second before he started stitching, offering a quick smile. “Suppose I’ll just have to take a minute longer to make sure you’re not hiding any other injuries from me, won’t I?”

[gifteddoc-blog]

But Who Will Save You? || Freya & Preston

[gifteddoc-blog]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Freya was not well known for her well thought out ideas.

She was not known for them at all, because she did not have well thought out ideas.

Just urges, impulses, the inescapable desire to be up on her feet and doing things all the time. The apocalypse was good for that at least; there was always something that needed doing, and among the soft sorts that sought refuge in Bloomsfield she didn’t think it was big-headed to call herself one of the most useful. She was basically an honorary member of the police force for now.

Or, well, more like a rogue who borrowed their guns and went on supply runs.

Tonight’s job was no supply run, though. It was a rescue mission.

How exactly noodle armed Preston had been surviving in his clinic she had no idea, and it was even less clear why he’d want to bother when he had to know there was somewhere safe within town that would be happy to take him in.

She hadn’t seen him on her trips out of the safe zone but she had seen that blasted rabbit trap he kept outside his door, and so had those awful creatures. Was the doctor too dumb to realize even monsters understood the concept of feeding time? He was going to have a damn invasion on his hands.

From the fire escape that lead to the roof on the police station Freya had been able to find a route out of the safe zone via rooftop, and over time had taken ropes and climbing equipment further out so that in the places where the buildings were too far apart she could climb down and back up, and she had been working on a route to the clinic for a few days. Tonight was the night.

She managed to make the journey relatively unscathed, only one injury; her forearm was bleeding after she’d scraped it down the wall of a building. One of the creatures had tugged on a rope she was climbing up. They’d figured out how to do that, but luckily didn’t seem to have the strength of mind or body to figure out how to climb up after her.

When Freya reached the roof of his building she secured off another rope to a post and climbed down a little ways to a window, through which she could see him leaning against a door. “Hey, doc.” She called out, knocking against the glass. “Time to go before the creatures on your doorstep figure out rabbits aren’t the only living thing hanging out around this building.”

Preston jumped at least. Foot in the air at the unexpected voice. Quiet little thing she was, Preston knew. But he hadn’t heard her at all.

“Freya? How did you get here?” He asked, eyes wide. He could barely open the door enough to grab the rabbit trap he kept outside, much less actually travel through the creature-infested streets. No one should be able to do that. Yet somehow, if anyone could, he wasn’t surprised it would be Freya. The girl was an anomaly in a long list of ways.

He opened the window, quickly ushering her inside. “It’s not safe out there,” he insisted. He frowned at her request, glancing back to the door behind which Sindri was quarantined, and shook his head violently. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” He muttered, walking away from her. He crossed his arms, hands rubbing against his forearms in an anxious or self-comforting gesture. He wasn’t even sure which.

“I can’t leave. I can’t leave him, Freya. Sindri’s infected. I can’t leave him. I can’t. I promised. I promised him,” his voice trailed off into barely a whisper. “I can’t, I can’t. I promised. I promised. I can’t.”

[gifteddoc-blog]

But Who Will Save You? || Freya & Preston

Two days. Less than that, actually. One day, fifteen hours and thirty-two minutes. That was how long Sindri had lasted after being scratched and bitten before he turned into one of them.

“Cure number sixty-seven,” Preston said clearly. A small recording device brought into Midsummer City by the humans—those that had remained in the human realm longer than Present had— sat on the table beside him, a solid red light glaring at him. Taunting him. “Crushed valerian root and antibiotics from the human realm, heated and mixed with one drop of blood from Sindri.” He was running out of the blood.

Preston was lucky to get even as much as he had. He had promised Sindri he would find a way to save him. It had been at Sindri’s insistence that he be locked in a room upstairs in the clinic. When he fell into a comatose state, Preston drew several vials of blood first, before locking him in the overnight patients’ room. According to books he’d found of new medical practices in the human realm, mixing a bit of the disease into the antidote would increase its likelihood of working. Or so it seemed, from the few reference he’d been able to find.

Carefully drawing some of the mixture into a syringe, Preston put the mixture inside a rather large rabbit he’d caught in one of the various traps he’d set just outside the door of the clinic. He didn’t care go any further than that. Even opening the door was enough of a risk. “Sorry, dear little thing. But your death will be good for science,” Preston muttered, offering a small smile to the terrified creature. He pet its head gently as he carried it upstairs. He listened at the door to the room Sindri was locked in to make sure he wasn’t directly on the other side of it, before opening it swiftly and throwing the rabbit inside.

A hiss and angry moan sounded from inside as Preston slammed the door, bracing his shoulder against it as Sindri slammed into it from the other side. With some amount of struggle, Preston managed to close the deadbolt he’d added to the outside of the door. He sighed, turning his back to the door and leaning against it, wincing a little as he heard the muffled crunch of teeth tearing into fur-covered flesh and bone.

[gifteddoc-blog]

Humans in Hiding || Freya & Preston

[gifteddoc-blog]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Look, Freya knew this was a bad idea.

But breaking the humans out in the first place had probably been a bad idea too- from a standpoint of personal safety. So many people looked on the Wolf clan as heartless warriors and nothing more, and of course there were those who fit that role perfectly, and while Freya absolutely had her vicious and cruel side she was much more prone to empathy. Perhaps it was because Astrid had been solitary before joining the wolves, she hadn’t been raised with such a cut-throat attitude and so she’d gifted some of that softness to her daughter. 

It was that softness that had brought her to Preston today. This human, this girl with her delicate skin and slightly wonky eyes, she needed help. Freya had done her best to deal with what wounds she could with the knowledge available to her, but she was scared of causing more damage too. She didn’t really have the first clue about humans, about how their bodies worked. There were long healed scars littering her arms, and aches that seemed to have sunk straight to her bones- no doubt the results of being overworked in Belladonna. 

Those were not the concern today though, she had a gash on her leg that looked an odd colour, but since it couldn’t have been the fault of iron Freya did not know how to help it, and she walked odd. Said she thought she had twisted her ankle a while back. This was unsafe- if anyone found out she had been involved in rescuing these humans there would be hell to pay for it, but she figured she was the one of that group who had the best chance of surviving such a punishment. Rye would help her escape if it came to that. 

“She fell.” Freya said shortly, gesturing to the large cut, “said she hurt her ankle too.” 

Preston stepped around to the young girl’s other side, wrapping an arm around her waist. “There you go, dear, lean on me a bit. Let’s just get you into the exam room here,” he encouraged gently as he supported part of her weight, helping her along on her injured ankle to the exam room. Her helped her to sit in the chair in the corner that he normally sat in, as the table was a bit too high for her to hop up with her ankle injured as it was.

“What’s your name, dear?” He was surprised to find a human of all people, helped along to his clinic by a faerie, but it was Freya, after all. He hardly knew the girl, but he got the distinct impression that she considered the rules and pretentious attitudes of the Court to be foolish and unnecessary. He also got the impression that her description of those things would be more crude than his own.

Preston moved to the cabinet on the opposite wall and dug through it to find a needle and thread. As he lit a small candle, burning the needle over the flame to sterilize it, he glanced sideways at Freya. “And how did you find this injured young lady?” He asked curiously. While it wouldn’t be unbelievable for the girl to be a friend of Freya’s, her old and extensive scars told stories of a life of abuse. He’d seen similar scars among slaves back in the human world, and he didn’t know of any places in Wisteria where a human would earn such injuries. Perhaps she was a Wolf. Preston wasn’t terribly familiar with the customs of the Solitary fae, though human slaves weren’t something he expected to be a part of the warrior fae culture.

[alektobone]

Good Samaritan || Alekto and Preston

[gifteddoc-blog]

alektobone‌:

((Set immediately after Diplomatic Impunity and before Friends and Their Benefits))

Were it not for the throbbing pain of her injuries and the aggravation that came from riding with a broken and burnt arm that felt worse each time she was forced to shift in Thanatos’ saddle or the horse’s movement caused the wounded limb to jostle against her body despite being kept as firmly in place as possible by the piece of cloth securing it to her abdomen, the fact that it had been so remarkably easy to get in and out of Anvali Castle and leave Black broken and poisoned within, all while unnoticed or at the very least unrecognized thanks to the glamour morphing her appearance, might have brought some level of amusement and satisfaction. It still did, of course, or- more accurately- it still would, as soon as she could find a better way to diminish the agonizing pain left by Black’s refusal to simply lay down and die like a good mongrel. 

For all her hatred of Wisteria and those that lived within, Alekto knew better than to attempt to ride back to Belladonna in such a state, particularly with night fast approaching. The illusions cast upon her features hid the burns and mangled state of her forearm as well as they hid her identity, but they would do the reality no good, and her condition was not yet so bad as to warrant spending the time and magic required to even attempt to mend her wounds herself while still so far within Seelie lands. 

Instead, the sorceress found herself mentally cursing Black and his hellish dog while she approached the outskirts of the insufferable city. The thought of trusting a Seelie medic of any form brought a bitter taste to her mouth, even if their ridiculous sense of honor and goodness was, for once, bound to at least be worth something in such a situation. Still, it was hardly as if she possessed much option. Better to find something there, far from the castle and the nobles capable of causing trouble if something went wrong. If nothing else, hobs and humans were often easier to endure than other sidhe. 

It didn’t take long to gain directions to one of the buildings from the lingering Seelie in the streets, or to find it. Alekto studied the place for a moment before dismounting, letting out a sharp hiss of pain as she did so, which only served to bring further pain as the movement pulled upon the burnt skin along her cheek and jaw. The rain had ceased, at least, allowing the Archmage to use her magic to dry herself and her clothing as she approached the doorway, but there was little to be done about the melted leather along the shoulder and collar of the dark attire or the blood soaking through parts of her clothing and splattered across her countenance, far too much of it her own for her liking. 

All things considered, there were things of far greater concern than her clearly disheveled state at the moment. The burns running from shoulder to face and extending across most of her neck and collarbones, for one, or the knowledge that it would be far easier to avoid trouble the sooner she left this Celestials-forsaken place. Still, a small part of her couldn’t help the spark of anger as she ran her good hand through her hair and noticed the smell of the burnt portions of it. Damage she would have to assess later on, yes, but damage nonetheless. For the time being, however, the most she could do in that regard was maintain the glamour of a faerie that, by all means, did not appear to have been anywhere near combat, and remind herself that Black was likely dead or dying by then.

She did not bother to knock, slipping inside the clinic wordlessly. As she used her functioning arm to shut the door behind her, the sorceress immediately began to scan her surroundings, still maintaining the glamour of health for the time being. 

@gifteddoc

The clinic was quiet. Almost eerily so, compared to what Preston had been dealing with lately. Far more patients than he’d like had come to him recently, fresh out of street brawls, or with a litany of burns and long stories to accompany the injuries. Most though, looked only for respite. They came to the doctor for simple mixtures of calming oils, or a sleep draught he’d had far too many occasions to brew up lately. But today, things were more quiet, which only lended itself to Preston’s belief that it would soon not be so quiet.

Sindri was minding the front of the clinic while Preston sat in the kitchen, flipping through a book of local plants he’d found at the library to aid in his ever growing need for new cures for his patients. By now, so many of the patients came for simple burn ointments or sleep draughts that Sindri could handle such patients himself. Preston didn’t hear a knock at the door—few patients knocked anyway—but he heard the soft click of the door shutting behind someone before Sindri spoke.

“Hello there.You look quite well to be seeing the doctor today,” Sindri said, his voice perhaps a bit too loud, ensuring it carried to the kitchen. Preston stood immediately. The sentence had become something of a code between them. Too many patients had come in lately using glamours to appear perfectly healthy, and more often than not, Sindri was simply unable to see their injuries, which tended to be worse than average if the fae believed a glamour was required.

“Exam room to the left here, please,” Preston said as soon as he stepped into the room, rushing forward towards the woman. He kept a hand hovering just behind her as he directed her to the door on the other side of the room, in case her strength failed her. Which seemed far too likely given the extent of her injuries. “Extensive burns, bleeding profusely from the abdomen, looks like a stab wound, and possible broken arm,” Preston recited the most visible and serious injuries aloud to Sindri, who rushed into the exam room ahead of them. When Preston spoke again, he addressed the woman, “Do you know if you came into contact with any iron? Do you feel dizzy or faint at all?” He had long since learned not to ask how a patient’s injuries occurred, sans perhaps Balthazar. He found most others weren’t honest in their retelling of such stories, and it mattered little in any case.

“Don’t know why fae still come into the clinic using glamours anyway,” Sindri said loudly from the exam room, where Preston could see him rushing around gathering the necessary supplies Preston would need to treat the injuries he’d listed.

[figgyshitposts]

@gifteddoc

[gifteddoc-blog]

Humans in Hiding || Freya & Preston

Rumors blew through Wisteria faster than the wind during a tornado. Or that was how Sindri explained it anyway. The hob kept up with the Magpie’s Nest more so than Preston did. Not because the doctor wasn’t interested, but more because it seemed that the more he learned, the more he was beginning to wonder if he’d made a mistake seeking out the fae realm. But that was ridiculous. He’d made friends here. He had Edmund, and Balthazar, as well as Robin and Sindri.

Even if the news of the human tithes had been…. worrisome, to say the least. Preston would rather focus on what truly mattered. His patients, and his experiments. And if he was focusing more lately on some cures for humans, and a bit less time spent on the assignments the Queen had given him, only Sindri was aware anyway.

“Some idiot broke the humans out,” Sindri announced, his face half concealed behind an issue of the Magpie’s Nest.

“Who?” Preston cursed under his breath as he spun around so quickly that the water he’d heated for tea spilled over his hand.

“No idea,” Sindri said, barely glancing up before reaching for the burn salve he kept within easy reach in a kitchen drawer, passing the small glass jar over the table to Preston. “Hopefully the King doesn’t know either. They’ll be dead in a matter of days if anyone finds out who it was. And it was all for nothing anyway. Apparently the King is hosting a tournament. Only humans, to the death. Probably some rage of power to prove he’s still to be feared after someone stole a hundred humans out from under his slimy, disgusting nose.”

Preston frowned as he rubbed some of the salve onto the side of his hand. It seemed no matter how optimistic the situation may get for a moment, it only got worse a moment later. He’d heard of such in Belladonna, of course, but to hear of it from afar, to know something so horrendous, that felt so distant, but really wasn’t so far away, was more than a little terrifying. But Preston knew better than to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong. He couldn’t do much else other than care for those that came to him.

The thought made him almost sigh in relief when a knock came at the door. “I’ll get it,” he said quickly when Sindri started to set down his breakfast and stand. The hob shrugged and sunk back into his chair, picking up the piece of partly burnt bread again.

A patient. Something he could focus on other than whatever version of hell was playing out in Belladonna. No worries of tithes or tournaments. Only the patient that had come to seek him out, whom he actually had the capability of helping. His smile brightened a bit when he opened the door to see one familiar face, as well as a new human he didn’t recognize, who looked more than a little worse for wear. “Hello there, Freya. Come in, come in. Let’s get your friend into the exam room. What happened?”

@wtfreya-briar​

[shymelody]

No, I wasn’t sleeping || Open

[gifteddoc-blog]

shymelody‌:

Edmund looked down to the floor when Preston said he wasn’t a bother. It sounded nice to hear it, but Edmund still considered him being a bother. He didn’t have a place to stay and going around asking help from others would definitely mean him being a bother. He had to be able to handle things himself, he was.. an adult. Or should be at least. It definitely didn’t feel like it though.

Preston’s hand’s movement was so careful that Edmund did notice it, knowing what he was about to do so it didn’t startled Edmund or anything. Plus there was the fact Preston was his friend so him touching Edmund was more okay than others doing that. Not that many did that, but still. 

Truthfully the height difference between Edmund and Preston weren’t much,  but since Edmund had almost always his head pressed down he looked way shorter. Plus looking smaller was probably on skills of Edmund’s for sure. The young fae thought about his friend’s suggestion and after a moment he nodded slowly. “Okay.. For a dinner.” Sleeping didn’t sound like a bad idea either, but that would be about him being a bother for sure. “But.. we need to find that book of yours first.”

Preston was already trying to piece together another argument for why Edmund should come back to the clinic with him. He half expected to have to physically drag his friend there, though he didn’t want to. Surely Edmund didn’t like sleeping in the library? It didn’t seem at all comfortable, or safe, especially with all the riots going on.

“Excellent!” Preston said, a bit too loud for the library, though he didn’t care too much. He twinned his fingers together in front of his chest to keep from reaching out and hugging Edmund. He knew his friend wasn’t terribly fond of touching, and while he’d hugged Edmund before, the faerie seemed more on edge than normal and he didn’t want to press his luck too far. “Yes, of course, I do think you were on the right track. It should be just around here somewhere,” he muttered, half to himself as he surveyed the shelves around them.

“I think it was, this one?” He plucked one of the books off of the shelf and opened it. “I t was page 57…or 75…No, not this one.” He repeated the action with two other books before he found the recipe he was looking for. “Ah, perfect! Sleeping draught, wonderful.” He snapped the book shut and tucked it under his arm, looking back at Edmund expectantly. “Dinner, then?”

[gifteddoc-blog]

See Through Your Magic || Open

[gifteddoc-blog]

pyxis-stardew‌:

Pyxis had been wandering the town. Her plans had been canceled due to a sewer flooding problem in the arena. So as her home was thoroughly washed off the collection of shit and piss, she looked for something to do. Pyxis had no care in the world today. Her chores were done, and she had finished sharpening her blades. As she watched a man dance and spitfire, she turned toward the seeming commotion that a crowd had gathered around. When it was nothing, she scoffed at the imbeciles that stayed to watch. 

“What the hell was that? My grandma could fart more magic than that pathetic act.” The warrior more or less said out loud. She hoped whoever had tried to conjure up magic heard her comment. When she noticed the lanky and tall man beside her speaking, she chuckled and crossed her arms. “They don’t know what real magic is. Poor things. Want to see something neat?” Pyxis asked the stranger. But without an answer, she pulled out a long, wooden whistle that had been whittled. The carved whistle went into her mouth, and her hands came up before her. Pyxis played a long, high note and began to spin her hand as though she spun thread. The sound seemed to travel, and wind around the crowd. One by one, they all seemed to become extremely disgruntled. The anxious and confused crowd walked in circles, bumped into each other and generally act like zombies. When Pyxis pulled in the magic again, the citizens all came out of their trance. Pyxis hands stopped weaving, and suddenly she pushed both hands down to her hips, causing a tremble in the earth with her sound waves. 

“Cool, isn’t it?” she smugly smirked at him. Pyxis put away her whistle and crossed her arms again. “So, since you were so disappointed in their magic, let’s see what you can do.” Pyxis challenged. 

It seemed Preston wasn’t the only one unimpressed by the lack of magical display. The voice that called out though, put it into more colorful arms than Preston, drawing an amused smile from the human’s lips. He could feel Sindri tense beside him, but paid the hob no mind. “Can you use true magick?” Preston asked, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. She was already pulling out a whistle and starting to play.

Preston’s smile fell a little, more out of confusion than disappointment, but his gaze followed hers back to the crowd gathered, and he watched as they started behaving more oddly, bumping into each other and walking around as though in a trance. Was that her magick? He watched in fascination, barely acknowledging Sindri tugging at his arm. “We should go, doctor. She’s Unseelie.”

“You’re sure?” Preston asked quietly, pulling his eyes away from the crowd when they all started to come to.

“Saw her in a tournament once in Belladonna,” Sindri answered. He gripped onto Preston’s arm tighter, this time more for balance as the ground shook beneath them. Preston stumbled a step before righting himself, eyes drawn back to the stranger. “I’ve never seen magick like that,” he said, a small smile on his lips despite Sindri’s warnings. He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly at her question. “Oh, I can’t do any magick. Very kind of you to think me a faerie, though,” he added as he shook his head. “No, I have the Sight though. I can’t see glamour magick, so these little shows are entirely lost on me,” he waved vaguely towards where the crowd had been.

“I can only see true magick. How does yours work? I’ve seen true magick done with fire, but not with music.”

[gifteddoc-blog]

What was your first impression of Kasha?

I have to admit I found her rather intimidating. She was respectful, of course, being in my clinic, but she has this... presence. She can control a room without a word. I was lucky enough to see such power used for the good of the humans she had brought to my clinic for care. 

[gifteddoc-blog]

How would you like to die if given the option?

In my sleep, I suppose. Painless and quick. Surrounded by people I care about. Predictable enough I would have the chance to say goodbye to everyone I care for, if they chose to be around me still by then. I’m rather afraid if I died in such a way, no one would have stuck around long enough to be with me then, though.

[gifteddoc-blog]

What was your first impression of Freya?

Stronger than any young girl like her I’ve met. Quite smart as well. She knows her plants. I do look forward to speaking with her again, though I hope it’s not in the context of her finding herself injured again. 

[gifteddoc-blog]

What was your first impression of Edmund?

Quiet, is the first word that comes to mind. And a bit jumpy, if I remember right. Adorable as well. A bit like a baby deer, I think. 

[gifteddoc-blog]

What was your first impression of Balthazar?

Very stubborn. And bloody. I expected the first was a general character trait that would always be present, though I didn’t expect the second one to be as well. And attractive, of course, even bloody. Everyone must have that first impression of him, don’t they?

[gifteddoc-blog]

See Through Your Magic || Open

“We’re going by the Artisan’s Quarter. You owe me, after that,” Sindri groaned as the door to his parents’ home shut behind them.

“Your parents are lovely, and it’s so generous of them to invite me for brunch,” Preston said happily, though he turned left towards the Quarter instead of right towards Olia and the clinic, a silent agreement to his assistant’s request.

“Doesn’t mean you have to accept every time they ask,” Sindri said.

“I can’t really say no,” Preston said. “Besides, the only want to be sure their son is learning, not just working. They want you to become a successful doctor one day.”

“Yes, well then they can come by the clinic and see that. Not require both our presence at Sunday brunch, just to ask you how you’re liking Midsummer,” Sindri said, though his voice seemed to trail off a little, making Preston give him an odd look. Sindri wasn’t looking at him though. Instead, he was staying straight ahead, wide-eyed and tugging on Preston’s arm. “Look at that!” He exclaimed. When Preston’s eyes followed his those, he didn’t see anything worth the level of amazement Sindri was attributing to it. For the distance, it only look like a few fae gathered together, sarong in equal amazement as Sindri at—nothing.

Dead air. Perfect, silent, nothing.

Sindri took one look at Preston’s face before his hand dropped from Preston’s arm, and his face fell. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Well, that’s disappointing.” Preston had, sadly, grown accustomed to such spectacles since arriving in Midsummer. Though Balthazar and others had sought to convince him that the Sight truly was the Gift it was referred to as, still he couldn’t help but be disappointed.

“For a place as magical as the fae realm, I expected more true magick,” Preston sighed.

[gifteddoc-blog]

The Doctor’s In || Open

[gifteddoc-blog]

wtfreya-briar‌:

Freya cocks her head to the side, amused that this is his first question. Of course, among the clan it is not uncommon for children to roam about with little idea who their father may be, or at least for their father not to be an active part of their lives, but in Wisteria it’s quite the scandal, and most people have questions about that first and foremost. “Ragnok. It’s Wolf Clan territory, in the wildlands, I grew up a member of the clan, with my mother.” 

When he casually mentions the iron under their feet Freya tenses, sensing threat despite the doctor’s gentle manor and tone. Her hands brace on the edge of her seat and for a moment she thinks of fleeing, because surely she is too fast for him to catch. But- he reasons away the iron easily enough, and she relaxes again. Sounds reasonable to her, wanting a cure for one of the few otherworld elements that can do them harm.

She tries to keep up as he chatters about the experiments, but has never been very academically inclined, or even educated in that way at all. She does not feel like voicing her stupidity by asking him what an element is, though. Freya is glad to be right about the Calendula, feeling oddly prideful that she’d understand something of this doctors world, “I know all the plants.” She tells him while he presses that leaf against the gash in her forehead, “I can name every plant in Midsummer.” She recognized the leaf, too, “I didn’t know you could use bay laurel leaves in this way- though, the clan healer did always have a fresh supply in her tent, perhaps this is what she had them for also.”

He pulls the leaf away and Freya notes curiously that rather than the colour fading from the edges inward it has turned brown in the centre first- not the regular dying of a leaf, something else. “Huh.” She shrugs, “I guess iron must’ve gotten to me somehow, then. But it’s an easy enough fix, you say?”

“You’re a Wolf? Fascinating,” Preston’s tone grew excited, his eyes wider as he looked back at the girl. She did have a certain…wild look to her, but then, who was Preston to guess such things? Balthazar appeared more wild than any fae he had met, yet he was a Sidhe fae, knight and Council member of the Court.

Freya’s immediate tension at his casual mention of the iron in his lab wasn’t lost on Preston, but he just offered a sheepish kind of smile, and no further explanation. He’d given the only explanation he could, and thankfully she seemed to accept it well enough. “Perhaps I’ll have to pick your brain about some of the new plants I come across, then,” Preston said with a childlike smile. He was always excited to meet someone who shared some interest of his, and particularly who knew more about it than he did. “Duke Black seems overly concerned about my habit of picking up plants without knowing if they’re poisonous,” he added. A scoff came from the other side of the room. Sindri walked over to join them, shaking his head and he set a couple of bandages on the table beside Freya.

“Duke Black is overly concerned with too many things,” Sindri pointed out, his tone nowhere near polite. “Not one of them being keeping himself in good enough shape to stay out of the clinic.”

“Sindri dislikes him,” Preston said by way of explanation, not bothering to glance over at the hob. His attention was instead focused on his patient, as he waited for a reaction from the bay leaf. “Your Clan healer likely knew this trick far longer than I have,” he said with an amused smile. “I only learned this after some research a few months ago. It’s come in quite handy.”

When he pulled the leaf away, he frowned a little at the brown spot in the leaf. “You’re quite a tough one,” he said, smile returning curiously as he looked back at her. “Yes, you must’ve come across a bit of iron. Most fae would’ve been complaining of pain and sickness rather quickly, I believe. At least, Sindri would be,” he added, partly in jest, and partly as a rebuttal for his assistant’s comments about Balthazar. For his part, Sindri didn’t bother to comment. Preston reached for the jar Freya had already opened, and dipping the edge of a clean cloth into it. “Easy. Enough fix,” he agreed, dabbing the cloth gently over the gash. “It won’t get rid of the iron, that should fade on its own soon enough. But this will offset the iron’s effects, somewhat. This will help speed the healing process a bit, where the iron tends to slow it down.” Once the gash was covered generously in the Calendula mixture, Preston picked up one of the bandages, wrapping it snugly around Freya’s head, being sure the gash was securely covered. “Just have to leave that on for about a day. It should just take another day or so after for it to be healed completely.”

[shymelody]

No, I wasn’t sleeping || Open

[gifteddoc-blog]

shymelody‌:

Edmund kept his mind busy with the thought of finding the book for Preston. His head certainly wasn’t as awake and sharp as it normally would be and Edmund definitely did few wrong turns as he walked between the shelves, but he just acted like that had been his plan all along. Although when Preston talked again and asked where he had been staying Edmund stopped and his gaze fell down to his shoes. There was no point on lying to Preston but Edmund felt bad to even think about bothering him with this whole situation. Preston must have his own issues and worries, he shouldn’t have to worry about Edmund too.

The young fae let out a sigh as he tried to think what to answer to him. “Nowhere”, he finally said because that was pretty much the truth – there was no actual place where he lived now. He just.. existed. “I… I don’t want to be a bother. And your patients need the bed.” Edmund wasn’t a patient, he was just the compo-… he was just a fae. Not even a composer anymore, most likely. No one has asked him to get back to the castle, there had been no word from anyone who had worked there that the Queen needed her composer. Surely people knew Edmund would be at Aurum if they really would need him, but there hasn’t been even one who had been asking after him. Not a single soul.

Preston wanted to laugh, but he worried the sudden sound might scare his friend. Skittish thing he was, though Preston never write knew why. He was sweet, and quite talented; there was no reason for him to fear any ill will from anyone around hm. No one could possibly seek to harm him. “You’re never a bother, Edmund,” Preston said firmly, though he smiled as he spoke. “My friends are never a bother. And besides, no patient has actually stayed in that bed in several months. People dislike staying longer in a doctor’s office than is strictly necessary, I’ve found,” he mused.

He reached out, slowly as though reaching towards a timid rabbit, a put a hand on Edmund’s shoulder. He leaned down a little, trying to get at eye level with the fae, which was surprisingly difficult to do. Preston was accustomed to being taller than most, but still Edmund seemed to try and make himself smaller. “At least come back to mine for dinner? Sindri’s cooking, and it’s always a delight…. generally. We don’t speak of the time he tried to recreate his mother’s meatloaf. In any case, just join us for a little while?” Then perhaps Preston could convince his friend to stay a bit longer. He hated the idea of Edmund sleeping in the library, or anywhere that didn’t have a comfortable, actual bed.