Hey guys, sorry for the long wait once again. I think this might be the way it'll go for much of the chapter writing from now on. Really sorry about that. Quality won't go down on this though, I only ask of you to be a little more patient, please. :) We're in the nitty gritty of it now!
But good news; Guild Wars 2 is now free to play! It comes with a few restrictions, and there's still a paid version, but you'll get plenty of fun stuff to do from what I know. So if you're interested in playing and your PC can handle the game, you can get it for free and see if you like it! :D If you do, share your account name with me and I'll be happy to play with you guys. :D
Note: Also, I drew some art of Margrit! You can check it out on my deviantart page. :)
"I'm still mad at you, Asterix. Don't think I'll forget this easily," Margrit's voice rumbled. She repositioned herself on the bed she laid.
I save your life and all you've done to show your appreciation is criticize, belittle and alienate me.
The blonde human stood by the bed, sneering, and playing those very words in his mind. But he refrained from saying them out loud, and he quietly continued to wrap the injury on Margrit's arm with care. The bleeding had thankfully come to a halt. After he was done cleaning it using one of Margrit's bottles of alcohol normally used for her work, the only thing left to do was covering it up with a proper bandage and making sure it stayed sterile.
Her left leg was worse off, and far beyond Asterix's skills to treat. Something was definitely broken in the shin, and the flesh surrounding the bones turned sore, red and swollen on the way home. It must have taken a really good whack for it to end up looking the way it did. Leather bags full of snow were placed on the leg to keep the swelling contained and the pain to a minimum, just until the healer arrived.
He also preferred not to risk trying to treat it by himself, and getting kicked in the face by the other leg as he did, knowing that the woman was still very upset about him going out into the wild without her consent. Who knew what she was capable of.
But why couldn't she see that he was doing fine? He is not a cagebird! In fact, if it weren't for him, she and her bear would have likely been no more.
Finally, he secured the bandage around Margrit's arm. He only got a bloodied belt and a glare in return for his efforts. What, not even a simple 'thank you'?
The mutual silence, combined with the heated atmosphere between the two, made Horin feel like something could go wrong at any minute. Unless he could distract them from the situation.
"What was an Icebrood minion doin' this far south anyway?" he asked while keeping an eye out the door, waiting for the healer to arrive. Asterix looked up at the norn. So what they encountered was an 'Icebrood'. Would have to keep that in mind, he concluded in thought.
"They must be getting bolder," Margrit replied dully. "It caught me by surprise. I didn't think one would creep into Hoelbrak's hunting grounds. Not this close to the city. They're usually smarter than that, especially after Destiny's Edge taught them a lesson.*" She sighed.
Asterix raised a brow. "If they haven't come this close before, then why would one try to do so now?"
"Who cares? It's dead now." Margrit replied. "It won't hurt anyone again."
The Gaul sneered once more. "Look, I don't know much about dragon minions, but I do know that thing was intelligent. I doubt one just comes walking into a bar to have a beer with the other patrons. We should at least warn the people before something like this happens again." He looked at Margrit's broken leg. "In fact, I'm going to Hoelbrak tomorrow to bring this to Knut's* attention.
"Horin will take care of that," Margrit suddenly spoke up. Asterix clenched his jaws and balled a fist. Horin eyed the human nervously. The little man was just about ready to snap a second time.
"Won't you?" she asked while looking at the big man.
"Oh. Uh, 'course I would, but don't ye think-"
Then, the sound of knocking on the front door caught their attention. Dogmatix barked responsively, and Horin puffed a sigh. Thank the spirits. The healer was here at last.
"I'll get it," Asterix said as calmly as he could. He made no eye contact with either norn, and turned around quickly, leaving the room. His dog followed close behind. Horin frowned, and shook his head in silent disappointment.
This whole situation was such a big mess. There had to be a way to fix it.
A minute after that, a white-bearded old norn man in leather clothes, trimmed with bear fur and raven feathers, walked into the room. He had a bag full of herbal remedies and other tools, both for resetting bones and binding wounds. Margrit watched the door impatiently, expecting Asterix to also return. But neither he nor Dogmatix reappeared.
"Well, then," the elder spoke up in a gentle tone. "Your friend told me what happened. Let's see how bad it is." The old man glanced to Horin. "Would you be so kind to pull up a chair for me, lad? My back isn't so well anymore these days." Horin complied, quickly taking a chair and setting it behind the man to sit, so he could treat the woman's leg without a hassle.
"Horin?" Margrit asked.
"Aye?" Horin looked at her. "What is it?"
"I'm worried about Asterix. Could you check on him for me?"
"Sure. I 'ave t' talk with 'im anyway."
And with that, he too walked out of the room, allowing the mender to do his work. Margrit was in good hands. Right now, his concern was Asterix. He hoped he wouldn't see the little man outing his frustration in a way that might get himself hurt. But as he entered the living quarters of the stead, he found him in an even worse state. He was already fitted in his outdoor gear, packing up whatever belonged to him.
"What're ye doin'?" Horin asked.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm leaving." Asterix replied in an annoyed tone while he fitted his revolver into its holster.
"It'd be very unwise t' walk away, lad."
The Gaul suddenly stood up and turned to face Horin. A dark glare was on his face, and a voice filled with fury escaped his mouth. "Why shouldn't I? Better yet, who will stop me? Anything is better than living with that...that…" Asterix let out a cry of frustration, pacing back and forth. "She won't trust me with anything anymore! Good job, Asterix! Great job! Everything I do here goes wrong!" He continued to condemn his actions, nearly pulling the hair from his head. Eventually he stopped pacing, facing the wall at but inches away from his face. "I…I'm weak and useless." He finally allowed himself to lean forward, letting his forehead smack against the hard wooden surface with a thud.
"Ow.."
Horin couldn't help but feel guilty of the situation. After all, it was him who convinced the Gaul to go outside. He had to fix this, somehow. He was unsure though, if his words would help in any way. Nonetheless, he tried.
"Ye ain't useless. And ye can't just leave, either. Not at night. There be nasty things out there. Nobody 'ere wants ye t' end up gettin' killed. An' believe me…" Horin sank to a knee near the Gaul, placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "There be plenty o' nasty ways to die out there, especially for them less experienced lads. All I ask of ye is t' stay 'ere at least 'till dawn. I'll talk with ye after the 'ealer's gone."
The Gaul remained silent for a moment, but then he finally let out a sigh. "Fine. I'll wait."
Later toward that night, Asterix sat on the floor near the fireplace. He was impatient, watching his fingers tapping on the coffee table. Dogmatix laid close to him, watching him curiously. And with no lack of concern. This whole day, if not the entire time since they came to this otherworldly place, was anything but the usual routine. Sure, they finally hunted for the first time in a long while, but that ended quicker than when Obelix would catch up on a fleeing Roman patrol. He missed playing with his master.
Asterix continued to fidget about impatiently. Was it because of the waiting, or was it really taking so long? He looked out at the flames of the hearth, and began to replay the day's events in his mind. It began with the hunt, trading indoors safety for adventure, despite what was asked of him. Then, he remembered the black ice, crawling across the snow-covered ground like a vine. The Icebrood monster, who hobbled and nearly killed Margrit…
Then there was Jormag.
Jormag. That stupid name kept popping up like a bad song that got stuck in his head. Just like that dragon aspect in his dreams.
"I hate this." he muttered, petting Dogmatix on the head gently. "I hate this dream, I hate those damned dragons… Hate it all. Wish I could punch them in the face."
To his surprise, an elderly voice responded to his grumping. "A human punching an Elder Dragon in the face? Now that would be quite a sight."
Asterix raised his head, turning to see who answered. It was the healer, reentering the living quarters.
"Good news, friend. The lady will make a full recovery. It'll take a while though. Both shin bones are fractured and had to be put back in place and secured with splints. My healing magic will speed up recovery, but make sure she stays out of trouble for at least six weeks. Seven is better."
"Right," Asterix answered flatly. Though he didn't plan to stay for another week, let alone six or seven. Anyone can do the job of taking care of her, but one thing was set in his mind; it was not going to be him. His stomach was full of Margrit's tyranny.
"I'll come visit every once in a while to check on her progress. May the spirits be in your favor," the man said. Then, Asterix got up and led the norn out the front door. He noted that it was indeed dark out at the time. But if an old man wasn't afraid to go out on his own at night, then why should he be?
No, he said he would stay, at least until dawn… He locked the door and turned back to sit at the table. He then remained there, tapping the table with his fingers once more. Dogmatix walked up to him and sat down near the chair, eyeing him, wondering what they were waiting for this time. It was long past supper time, and they hadn't had a bite to eat. Normally at home, they would have gone back out to hunt by now. But not this time, and Dogmatix was confused about why that was. It didn't take very long until the pup began to whine.
Asterix turned his head, staring down at him. The pup had a begging look in his eyes.
"Hungry?"
Dogmatix yapped.
"So am I." He raised a hand, holding it before his mouth, and he let out a long yawn. He couldn't remember the last time he slept well anymore.
Finally, the door creaked open once more. Horin came walking - almost tip-toe-ing - into the room. Before Asterix was able to ask questions, the man raised a finger to his lips, hushing.
"He gave 'er somethin' t' sleep better." Horin whispered, as he gently closed the door, making as little sound as he could.
"Is she still mad at me?" Asterix asked quietly.
"Less mad than b'fore." The big norn sat down on a chair, looking down at the human. "Sorry 'bout puttin' ye through this mess. Hope ye change yer mind 'bout leavin' though. Things can still be fix'd."
"Don't tell me what can be fixed," Asterix hissed, glaring at the norn. "What's the use trying to, anyway? She won't reason with me. It's either leave or be grounded here for a decade." He moped, slumping over the table.
"Well, I mean…" Horin pulled at his chair and scooted a little closer. "Sure, she got a lil' carried away with protectin' ye when she saw ye got hurt. But remember, she only means th' best fer ye."
"You must mean she's obsessed with protecting me. I'm starting to think she sees me as a little kid."
"As far as size goes," said Horin, frowning. "But I'm afraid yer suspicion's 'bout as accurate as it can get."
Asterix shifted his eyes to look at the norn, his arms still spread across the table in a slumped pose. What was that big bloke going on about this time? "What do you mean?" He squinted.
"I didn't want t' tell ye this, since I was hopin' t' talk it out, with 'er, but… Well, ye see…" Horin leaned closer, and he lowered his voice to a half-whisper. "She misses bein' a mother."
"What?" Asterix shot up as if someone shook him awake.
"She had a kid once. Lively lil' man. Always ran 'bout with a bow - the one ye had with ye. He even had blonde hair. She loved 'im t' bits, like a real mother." Horin leaned back a little. "But one day he left th' safety of Hoelbrak, t'gether with his friends, an' they went too deep into the woods. He got separated from th' group, fell down a gap, and his friends came runnin' back, cryin' for help. We began a rescue party…" Horin looked back at the door from which beyond Margrit slept. "And…well,"
Some seconds passed.
"What happened?" Asterix asked quietly. Anticipation and worry ate at his mind. This could never end well.
"A dragon minion found 'im before we did…" the norn answered somberly. Those words. It almost made Asterix's jaw drop in astonishment. He now knew Margrit did treat him like a child, but she didn't do it intentionally, maybe not even consciously. She only did what she thought was best. The ways she reacted, when she saw he got injured, when he faced that dragon minion… He became a reincarnation of that child in her eyes.
It all made so much sense now.
"I…" Asterix stuttered. A rueful frown formed on his face. "I never knew. If only I did, I wouldn't have…" He shook his head in remorse. "I have to apologize to her."
"That can wait 'till mornin'. 'Sides, it ain't yer fault. Ye two just need t' talk it out t'gether," Horin reassured. He then squinted, eyeing the human. "Ye ain't lookin' so hot yerself either. Maybe we shoulda had th' 'ealer check on ye too."
Asterix blinked, trying to understand what Horin meant.
"Yer eyes, mate." the big man suggested a fat finger at his own eyes.
"Oh, that." Asterix replied dully. "I'm fine. I just haven't slept well lately..." He glanced toward the makeshift cot that served as his bed for the past weeks. The bedsheets were untidied. He attempted to hold back a yawn, but halfway failed, making for an awkward display. "I doubt I'll sleep any better tonight," he said finally.
"Sorry t' hear. That thing with th' dragon nightmares?"
Asterix's eyebrows furrowed a bit. "Did Margrit tell you that?" Why, of course she did. Who else could it have been? He wondered what else she would have told him.
"Aye, she did." Horin leaned back a bit in his chair again. "She also said she wanted to try 'n do somethin' 'bout it. But that's all she said t' me."
"Even one dreamless night would be a gift from the gods right about now." Another yawn stirred. This time, he didn't fight it. "But I should probably try to get some shut-eye, at least."
Horin suddenly sported a big grin. "Aye, sounds like a plan. I'm sure ye'll figure things out with Margrit t'morrow. 'N don't worry, I'll be stickin' 'round t' help too."
Asterix nodded, a bit drowsily, but smiling back. "Good idea, I'm going to need help taking care of a woman four times my size."
"So that means yer stayin'? Good!" Horin's grin turned wider, and he became his own, cheerful self again. He bopped the little man in the arm using his fist again, just very carefully, to be sure he wouldn't accidently knock him over. That cheerfulness just reminded Asterix all the more of how much Horin resembled Obelix. Not by a whole lot, mind; this 'Obelix' was more muscle than fat, though not any stronger than the real deal. But perhaps that subtleness was for the better. Asterix couldn't help even feeling a bit nostalgic about it.
Good old Obelix. If only you were here; then things would have been so much easier.
As he expected, Asterix couldn't sleep. He fumbled about in bed a little, trying to find a comfortable position. But every time he was about to doze off, he shook awake again. Sometimes, it was a noise from outside. Other times, he woke himself involuntarily. It was a great bother, this amnesic night. Horin had left the stead late in the night to head home himself. He didn't want to worry his family.
Again that owl, hooting away at its leisure. Couldn't it pick a different house to perch on? He groaned, grabbing his pillow and placing it over his head. Perhaps that will drown out any outdoor sound. But even if that helped, he couldn't stop thinking about what he learned. About the horrible things Margrit experienced. The image of in what state they found her son back… he couldn't shake it off. He could only imagine what it was like to lose a child of his own.
Gods, how must his parents feel to lose him?
The owl hooted once more. By Toutatis, a bird couldn't be this loud! At this point, Asterix could almost come walking out the house and start throwing rocks at it. He pulled the pillow from his face, looking out the window. A thin crust of rime had formed on the glass. What time was it, anyway? Slowly, he shuffled out of the bed, approaching the window. He only made sure not to make too much noise. After all, he wasn't alone in this room. There was still a dog and a bear, both cuddled up and sound asleep.
He leaned forward, hands placed on the window stool, standing at the tips of his toes, and eyes scanning the outside. It was brighter out than before. Dawn was approaching, and he hadn't slept a wink. Lovely.
He concluded he might as well get dressed and check to see how Margrit was doing. He wouldn't mind making some early breakfast, either. Considering nobody had eaten anything since last night. They all would probably appreciate it.
XXX
Slowly, the door creaked open. The room was dark, lit only by subtle, pale sun rays that cast through the curtains. Carefully, a foot shuffled the big door aside, attempting to make enough room for a small body to pass through.
Asterix held a plate of food in his hands. It was supposed to be breakfast for Margrit, but it was merely cooked vegetables and half a loaf of bread, since there was not much else around. He eyed the bed suspiciously, waiting and listening, helm-wings perked high like rabbit ears. He held his breath a little so he could listen better.
There was a long moment of silence, but then, the woman in the bed emitted a deep snore.
Still asleep. That's good at least. He slowly made his way to the bed, Dogmatix pitter-pattered closely behind him, and moments later, a big black bear nose shoved the door open, flinging it against the wall. Asterix flinched in surprise, almost making him drop the plate in his hands. He shot Bobbo a scolding glare.
A disgruntled moan caught the Gaul's attention. He held his breath, praying the bear's clumsiness didn't wake her. Thankfully, she only shifted about a little before continuing to sleep.
"Stay here," he whispered to both animals. Dogmatix sat down obediently, while Bobbo eyed him questioningly with large black eyes. But he obeyed, and stayed put.
Carefully, Asterix continued to approach the king-sized bed. He kept a close eye on the figure underneath the bedsheets, making sure she wouldn't awaken. Deep inside, he was still afraid to face her wrath. Finally, the final steps. Silent as a mouse, he placed the plate on her bedside table. Now it was just a matter of leaving the room without getting caught. But then he looked at the bedsheets another time, the silhouette of the norness slowly moving up and down as she breathed. Her face was tucked away from his view.
Oh, how envious he was of her, to be able to sleep so well. Just watching her made his eyelids heavier than they already felt. It made him wander off in thought.
"I'm sorry about what happened to you," he whispered quietly.
The Gaul eyed the stool that stood beside the bed. It was used by the healer earlier, and had not been moved back since. He sat down on it, looking back at her again.
"I'm sorry about what you lost, and that I made you relive those events… I really am." A yawn unexpectedly forced its way out. He felt that he was beginning to doze off. He placed an elbow on the bed, letting his head rest on his hand a bit. Maybe… Just a little shut-eye… that won't do any harm. He'd be out of the room again before Margrit even knew he was here. He allowed his eyes to close, and his mind became a blur. Thoughtless, peaceful and uncaring.
For that sweet moment, nothing really mattered anymore. Only the blissful silence. Finally, some sleep.
That peace wouldn't last, however. As he slowly entered the world of dreaming, black scaled skin took shape. A deep growl, primordial and earthly, rumbled as crimson fangs bared once more. There was screaming in the distance. Two pale eyes flashed open, and the maw that snarled spoke his name. Time after time. The wails of the damned intensified as it repeated the name, becoming louder every time.
"Asterix? Asterix!"
Asterix shot up from Margrit's bed, letting out a distressed yelp. His neck stung painfully from the sudden move, making him flinch and hiss. He raised a hand and rubbed his neck, trying to massage the muscles that had stiffened from resting in such an uncomfortable position.
Not again… These dreams really needed to stop.
"Hey, you okay? Was it that dream again?"
That was Margrit's voice. He carefully turned his head, and he was met with concerned silver eyes.
"Yeah," Asterix sighed. He could tell in her eyes that she was not tired from waking up. She was tired from lacking sleep. "How do you feel?"
"Not comfortable, but not in pain either." Margrit replied. Her voice was calm, a little bit sad, even, but void of anger. "I'm sorry."
Asterix blinked at her. "You can't help I'm having those nightmares," he replied.
"No, it's not that." Her face turned into a depressed frown. "I mean, I'm sorry for treating you like you were… someone else." She looked away shamefully. "It was very disrespectful of me."
Surprised, Asterix grimaced. "You heard us talk about that?"
"I didn't hear all of it, but enough to learn I made a big mistake. And…" She started to fiddle with her hands. "…I was awake the whole time. I just didn't want to startle you."
"Oh." Asterix returned a guilty look. "I'm sorry I worried you, and that you had to hear that."
"Hey," Margrit smiled slightly. "If Horin didn't tell you about it at all, I probably wouldn't even have realized that I was doing something wrong… Things would have been even worse then." Margrit felt a tear forming behind her eyelids when she thought of the words she was about to say. But she kept herself collected when she spoke. "Yes. I miss my little Ilan a lot... But that doesn't make my actions just."
"I forgive you." Asterix tried to smile back, but a thought lingered in the back of his mind. If she was a mother, that would mean she probably had a husband once as well. Where that man was now, he couldn't bear to ask. What that also meant was that she was lying to him about her being without companionship. But in a way, he could understand why she did.
Margrit watched the Gaul getting lost in thought again. She read it in his tired eyes. Eventually, she decided to break the silence. "Nice job taking that Icebrood down, by the way."
Asterix snapped out of thought, looking back at Margrit. He made a sarcastic grin. "That was just luck. I'm terrible with a bow."
Margrit began to smile again. "But every time you released an arrow, you hit the target. It's much better than when you practiced on the tree."
"Well, he was fatter than that tree." He couldn't hold back a more genuine smile from forming on his face. "There was less distance between us too. Also…"
Margrit suddenly snorted out a laugh. "Oh, stop that! You're so silly when you keep making up excuses!"
Asterix stared, a little dumbfounded. The smile on his face quickly made way for an insulted frown. "Silly?"
"Yes," said Margrit, smiling back warmly. "Look, you can tell yourself whatever you want, but you did good! Your practicing is starting to bear fruit."
"I…suppose."
"Also, the healer wanted me to give you his compliments." Margrit suggested towards her bound arm. "He said you did so well binding my injury that he wasn't going to redo it. Who taught you to do that?"
"Oh," Asterix sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, even turning a little red from the laudation. "Well, back home, our village druid used to teach me how to bind wounds and other things about medicine. It was really more in case if someone got hurt or sick, and he wasn't there to help. Then I would be able to take over."
"Clever. He picked the right person to teach," said Margrit.
"Yeah, except it doesn't help a lot if neither of us are around in case something bad happens." Asterix looked away, at the curtained window. "Your know, there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not wondering how they're doing… Maybe they're fine…" He let out a depressing sigh. "But what if they're not? What if the Romans are planning something? What if they're facing dangers like in my dream?"
Margrit raised a hand, placing it on Asterix's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "I'm sure they're all fine. Your big friend is still there to protect them."
He looked back at her, her silver eyes shimmering with confidence. If only he could have shared that same sentiment. "Strength is one of the things my village rarely lacks. But, like you said, that gift turned us into overconfident idiots. I mean, no offense to them, but now that I'm completely without the magic potion, I realize how dependent I am of it. I keep running headlong into danger, only to be reminded I can't fight it."
Margrit's smile faded slightly. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You still have your wit. You'll just have to be more careful."
"Hope I'll learn to be more careful before I get myself killed."
"I'm sure you will," she said. He didn't seem to cheer up much, though. Instead he turned away, feeling ever less like himself.
"Asterix, I promise. If there is a way, I will help you get home."
He looked back at Margrit, surprised at what she said. "Really? You don't mean that."
"I do. I'll help you even if I have to sail to Cantha for it," Margrit answered.
He began to chuckle. "I heard Cantha's very far away. You sure you want to make such a big commitment?"
"Yes," Margrit simply answered. Her voice had never sounded as serious before.
Then, he was speechless. She couldn't possibly mean that. The odds he would ever go home were close to none; that much he was sure of. Why would she pull at his heartstrings like that? "I..." he stammered.
"Now, try to get some rest." She smiled again. "I need you to do groceries later."
The Gaul stared back at her with a blank expression. Slowly, a smile formed on his face. "Does that mean I'm free to leave the roost?"
Margrit laughed. "I won't stop you. Just stay out of trouble from now on."
He nodded in agreement. "Will do."
* From the second official Guild Wars 2 novel Edge of Destiny.
* Knut Whitebear: 'chief' of Hoelbrak.