Title: Of Protectors and Medics
Summary: Bertrand decided to speak with that medic from earlier. After he helps out a certain red-haired protector, though.
AN: Another one from Bertrand's POV~ Enjoy!
Bertrand's curiosity about that medic from this morning was getting the best of him. He couldn't help but wonder how much he knew about his arm. He also wondered about that hexer. True, the members of the Guardian guild claim that he said those things all the time, but that hexer clearly realised something about him was not normal. And the medic, Lynus, also knew.
Quietly leaving his room at the inn, Bertrand made his way down the stairs and headed in the direction of the clinic. It was late in the evening so most explorers should have retired for the night or were still drinking it up at the bar. That meant that he should, in theory at least, be able to have a quick word with Lynus at the clinic. If he was even there, that was.
As Bertrand headed toward the clinic at the inn, he found his pace slowing slightly when a familiar redheaded protector was seen.
He was dressed in casual clothes; black pants with a long sleeved white shirt underneath a dark blue short-sleeved t-shirt. Bertrand had to admit that he was a little surprised by how different Hrothgar looked without his armour. He was lean, not overly muscular and seemed to have great posture.
Bertand couldn't help but muse about what the protector's many admirers must think of him in casual clothing. He was undoubtedly good looking. Bertrand couldn't deny that.
After saying a few words to whoever was inside the room, Hrothgar turned to walk away. However, his expression brightened considerably when he recognised him. "Oh, Bertrand, good evening."
"Evening," Bertrand returned the greeting easily before he glanced over at the door Hrothgar just walked out of and back to the protector in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a little bit of concern as the door Hrothgar had just walked out of was the clinic. He wasn't hurt, was he?
Just as that thought crossed his mind, Bertrand spied thick supportive bandages adorning Hrothgar's right hand and wrist.
"You're injured?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
Hrothgar's first reaction was to hide his right arm behind his back and smile sheepishly. "Only a minor sprain. Nothing to worry about."
Bertrand didn't believe him. He knew of the other man's habit of keeping his troubles to himself. "Let me see."
Hrothgar looked surprised, his mouth dropping open a tiny bit as his eyes widened a mere fraction. He, however, surprisingly blushed a moment later and hesitantly pulled his arm from behind his back and lifted it toward Bertrand.
Honestly, the other man's reaction was kinda cute.
The white bandages around his wrist were thick and supportive. Obviously, he wasn't just a minor sprain. "A sprain that still hurts, right?"
"It'll settle down in a day or so," Hrothgar insisted as he pulled back his hand, only to wince when he did so.
Bertrand studied him for a moment before he folded his arms across his chest. "How did this happen?"
Hrothgar gave an exasperated sigh as he subconsciously cradled his wrist against his chest. "Rookies these days are so reckless. I had to literally grab one by the scruff of the neck and throw them into a short cut to escape a raptor."
Honestly, Bertrand couldn't say he was all that surprised.
"Lynus assures me that nothing is broken or damaged," Hrothgar continued with a smile on his lips. "And he hasn't been wrong yet."
It was hardly a surprise that Hrothgar knew of Lynus. "The Miracle Medic, huh? He's quite popular."
"Yes, and for good reason, really," Horthgar said, his expression and voice holding a sense of fondness. "He's very talented with healing in all its forms. He's also very considerate by not asking too many personal questions. Though, one can't help but open up to him."
"Yeah?"
"Aye, Hrothgar!"
Hrothgar about jumped a foot into the air in surprise and fright at the shouting of his name. He didn't turn around to see who it was, though; he immediately and skittishly lunged forward to hide behind Bertrand. He grasped at the back of his shirt with his hands as he peered over his shoulder.
Also startled by the man's reaction, Bertrand glanced at Hrothgar before turning to face forward. He immediately understood the red-head's reaction when the form of a somewhat familiar blond-haired highlander appeared before them, grinning an obnoxiously amused grin.
From Hrothgar's reaction, and the way he was cutely huddled against his back, his forehead pressed against his shoulder blades as he tried to keep himself as hidden as possible, it was easy to assume that Zeryn found Hrothgar to be adorable as well. Not that anyone could blame him.
Bertrand sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "Not today," he said as he stayed in front of Hrothgar. "Small injury. You'll piss off your medic teammate if you do anything."
"Aye, I know," Zeryn said as he continued to grin. "Just gonna check on him as he's too damn cute for his own good, aye? But he seems to have found a bodyguard to hide behind. Yer up to the task of fending off his admirers?"
Bertrand hoped that he was being a sarcastic smartass and not insinuating that there were some people who would take advantage of an injured Hrothgar.
…Ok, that thought really pissed him off.
"N-nothing of the sort. Bertrand and I were just talking," Hrothgar said as he peeked (adorably) over Bertrand's shoulder.
Zeryn's grin seemed to grow a tad wider for some reason as he looked (down) at Bertrand. "Bertrand, aye?" he repeated.
Bertrand arched an eyebrow and made no attempt to response.
The highlander, however, didn't seem to care as his gaze flickered back to the cowering protector behind him. "And yer Hrothgar. So that means…"
Bertrand wasn't sure he wanted to know what Zeryn was going to say next, but Hrothgar seemed curious. "Which means what?"
"Hrotrand!" Zeryn unexpectedly exclaimed.
Bertrand was rendered speechless for a moment before the gears in his heads started to turn, registering what the highlander had just said. "Did you just-?"
"Ere, Binah!" Zeryn suddenly called out as he turned on his heel and walked away from them, not bothering to utter a 'see ya' or anything. "Found yer another couple."
"What?" came a high-pitched, feminine voice before a pink-haired girl dressed in the clothes of a troubadour skidded out from one of the rooms to stand unafraid in front of Zeryn. "Where?"
Zeryn jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "Hrothgar and Bertrand."
The girl, Binah, immediately glanced over in their direction and stared at them for a good solid minute before a grin (a mischievous one at that) slipped across her lips. "Really now?" she muttered as she held her chin. "How interesting..."
Behind him, Bertrand felt Hrothgar wince. "...Shit."
Having never heard the staunch protector curse before, Bertrand was instantly curious and cautious. "Do I want to know?"
Still huddled against his back, Hrothgar began to reluctantly explain. "She's, ah, the little sister of the Guardian Guild and self-proclaimed matchmaker extraordinaire."
Well, that was somewhat terrifying.
"Is that so?" he muttered as he scratched the back of his neck, somewhat surprised at himself for not stepping away from the other man. "Jeez. Seems like we'll be seeing more of each other in the future."
Hrothgar didn't say a word, but he did utter a small but appealing noise of embarrassment.
...As least it'll be cute and entertaining.
"The highlander seems distracted," Bertrand said over his shoulder. "If you make a run for it now, you'll be able to hide in your room."
"R-right," Hrothgar stuttered as he pushed away from Bertrand, turned on his heel and all but fled in the direction of the stairs, heading to his room on the upper floor.
Well…the highlander was right about one thing; Hrothgar was too adorable for his own good.
Making the mental note to check up on Hrothgar later (to ensure that Zeryn was just being sarcastic), Bertrand turned his attention the doorway leading into the clinic. He knew that Lynus was in there, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. After all, it could be possible that the kid knew about his state of health better than he did.
Knowing about his arm was once thing. Understanding what it truly was, how he came to possess it was an entirely different matter. He couldn't possible know that, right?
Roughly running a hand through his hair, Bertrand decided to bite the bullet and enter the room.
The clinic was bigger than he had expected. There were several cots with partisan curtains, large medical cabinets, and a kitchenette area. The beds were empty, though, and the medic in question was busy restocking the shelves, replacing empty blue bottles with filled ones from the small wooden box he carried in the crook of his arm.
Bertrand stepped further into the room and cleared his throat. They were alone. No better time than to talk.
Lynus immediately stopped what he was doing to glance over at the door way, an expectant expression on his face. However, his eyes widen a fraction when he recognised him and a look of discomfort appeared on his face.
"I am sorry about Mahogany this morning," he abruptly said as he placed down the box he was holding onto the counter. "He suffers from visions and tends to blurt out whatever sight he has seen or experienced."
"Nah, its fine," Bertrand said as he slouched his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest. "He's right, after all. And you know it, too."
Like he had done that very morning, Lynus winced by said nothing.
"You've been looking at my arm," Bertrand continued, though did try to keep any accusation from his voice.
Mustn't have worked as Lynus immediately looked apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said as his gaze momentarily rested on his right arm before he looked away. He knew that he couldn't pretend that he didn't know anything.
Bertrand could tell that he wanted to look at his arm, examine it, but he was too polite to outright ask. Which was fortunate as Bertrand didn't exactly want anyone looking at his arm, either. The unanswered request was far easier to deal with.
"Mind if I ask how you could tell?"
Lynus seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I have the ability to assess a person's aura for abnormalities. Dark spots, as it were," he explained before a frown tugged on his lips. "And…you have the presence of a hexer."
Bertrand was caught off guard by that. "Hn? How so?"
"Hexers can only gain their skills after they, well, stop living," Lynus explained as he leaned against the counter behind him, his hands clutching at the edge. "While you're not dead, obviously, your ability to grow has stalled to a crawl. The same thing happens to hexers. Some can live for a hundred or more years. With your ability to hover between living and death, you can easily gain the abilities of a hexer yourself. Honestly, when I first saw you, I thought you were that of a hexer. Fafnir's the same."
Bertrand's mind immediately began to race at all the information.
Not dead…not living. That was what the hexer meant…? He…both Lynus and Mahogany…they knew about Fafnir's arm, too?
Bertrand was rendered speechless for a good, solid minute.
"…That's a pretty interesting skill you have there," he finally uttered.
Lynus anxiously curled and uncurled his hands over the edge of the counter. "It propels me to be nosy."
"You haven't asked what it is."
Lynus looked sadly at his arm before he pushed away from the counter. He moved until he was a hesitant foot in front of him, his hand raised between them. Before Bertrand could ask him what he was doing, Lynus sighed and shook his head.
"It's nothing I can fix," he stated.
Bertrand frowned. "You sound certain."
"Yes," Lynus murmured softly as he grasped at the front of his shirt with his hand, the area over his heart, and took a step back. "There is absolutely nothing I can do for you. You're heavily cursed. It can't be removed by conventional methods. Not while you have that marking. Not while the sentient curse, the object or being of which is a vessel for the curse, the holder of the curse' residual energy, exists. Only by destroying the curse's origin and creator, if they still exist themselves, can you remove the curse from yourself."
Bertrand was once again rendered speechless for a few long moments. "I see…You know a lot about curses."
"I know a lot about removing them," Lynus returned as a small smile made its way to his lips. "A while back we had an incident involving expelled students from the Curse Academy using Lagaard as a playground to test their cursing abilities. I had to work overtime back then."
Bertrand nodded his head idly, still trying to process all the information he had just learnt. To think a medic could learn so much about him from a glance alone…It was a tad frightening, to be honest.
Struggling between wanting to know what else Lynus, and ultimately Mahogany, knew about him and Fafnir, and the old adage that ignorance was truly bliss, Bertrand felt a slight sense of relief when someone else stumbled into the clinic, causing the two of them to jump slightly in surprise.
"I'll…let you get to work," Bertrand quickly said as he turned to leave.
"One more thing," Lynus called out to him, pulling him to a stop. "Mahogany mentioned something to me. About how sacrifices will only lead to pain and suffering to those who care too much. But I'm sure you wouldn't let that happen, right?"
Bertrand didn't try to form a response. He simply…nodded his head, face forward and walked away quickly.
