Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With a permanently wintry area like the Frostlands, there was always both the problem and possibility of illness for the residents of Emberglow. Theo never found himself short of work when they were in the area, and he frequently consulted with the local apothecaries on what illnesses were doing the rounds and what remedies would work best. There was almost always some strain of the flu running rampant during the winter, too.

They were a gregarious bunch, always talking to people, or helping out wherever they could, so it was almost inevitable when one of the band became ill.

The heavier-than-usual winter snows had kept them from leaving town, but even when the heavy snows stopped a day ago, Theo and Millard had wanted to stay to help the town’s resident apothecaries, and the others had agreed. It was just something they did.

Now three days had passed, and at lunchtime on the fourth day the band had gathered in the cosy little common room of the inn, making themselves comfortable in front of the fire. The windows were shuttered against the weather, and the inside was pleasantly warm. The innkeeper and his wife had both been very accommodating, even going so far as to open their kitchens to the travellers, who often came in late at night from helping the townsfolk.

Theo, Millard, and Gilderoy were the only ones who had to be out and about. The apothecary and the cleric had been helping the ill residents, whilst Gilderoy had been running back and forth talking to any merchants in the town.

Sofia was content to add to her notes and sketches by the fire, and Viola had gathered Fiore and Scarecrow around a small table, apparently trying to teach them a card game of some sort. Millard had not long returned from a busy morning helping Rodion on his rounds, and had asked Theo for something to restore his energy before he went out again.

Lynette sat at the larger table, looking troubled. She had wanted to go and practise some of her dances, but had decided not to. She wasn’t wearing her usual garb, either; rather she wore a rather large woollen shawl around her shoulders.

“I’m all right, really,” the dancer was saying, her voice sounding painfully hoarse. She rubbed at her throat with slender fingers. “I just need to rest for a while, and I’ll be back to normal soon. You’ll see.”

Theo frowned, rapidly running through potential causes and symptoms in his head, and not liking the results.

She tried to smile reassuringly at him, but she doubled over coughing, hurriedly covering her face with a cloth. “I’m fine, really!” she tried to assure him.

The apothecary’s face was unusually serious, but his eyes were sympathetic. “I think you should go to bed, Lynette,” he said kindly. “We don’t have to go anywhere right now, so there is no shame in taking precautions. I have something that should help your sore throat, too.”

The dancer looked helplessly at him, then at the others, and then sighed. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she said then. “We can afford it, right? And I won’t be slowing us down?”

“Not at all!” Fiore said, letting her playing cards clatter to the tabletop as she got up, taking Lynette by the arm. “We’re stuck here for a while, anyway, and the whole town’s got this nasty bug. Come on!”

Lynette was about to reply when Fiore started tugging her out of the room. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Theo laughed softly. Leave it to Fiore to be proactive when it came to her friends.

“I didn’t think one of us would get sick,” Viola said, leaning back in her chair by the fire. “That changes things, doesn’t it?”

“It certainly does,” Theo replied. He took his satchel and set it down on the table, opening it and pulling several bottles from within. After that came his mortar and pestle, his leather bound collection of medical implements, and several packages of medicinal plants and powders wrapped in waxed paper. He also took out his notebook. He gazed critically at them for a while. “I think I’m running short on ingredients,” he mused.

Gilderoy let out a laugh. He had his pack on the floor next to him, and was idly cleaning one of the brass pans from his set of scales. “I’m not surprised! The whole town’s sick. Between you, Shelby, and Rodion, the traders are running out of stock.” The jeweller had had little luck when it came to finding a merchant who carried any medicines or ingredients. “I’d heard that another merchant was due to arrive this afternoon. I might see what they’ve got.”

Seeing that the game was over since Fiore had left, Scarecrow put his cards down and got up to join Theo. “Do you need us to go out and get you some more?” he asked, gesturing to the apothecary’s diminishing supplies.

“It might come to that, yes,” Theo said, idly pulling at his earlobe. “I can give you a list, but you will likely have to venture out into the countryside, and maybe even some cave systems to get them.”

“That’s fine. I could use the opportunity to stretch my legs,” Scarecrow grinned. He flexed his fingers, the knuckles cracking slightly. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Well, it would take two trips, or two of you going,” Theo carefully tore a piece of paper from his notebook, and tore the page in half again. Then he took out quill and ink from a side pocket in his satchel and began to write down the things he thought they’d need. Onto one list went herbs, seeds, and flowers that might be in the area, and on the other went mineral compounds, tree barks, and mosses. “Sofia? You’re our resident expert on all things floral. Would you be up for a little gathering trip for us?” he asked the scholar.

“I’d be happy to,” Sofia agreed easily. She set down her sketchbook and walked over, taking the proffered list and casting an eye over it. “Yes, I should be able to find most of these without any problems. I might need a hand to carry some things, though.”

“Why don’t you ask Felline and Miles to help? I’m sure they’ll oblige,” Viola said. The thief had gathered up the discarded playing cards and was shuffling them instead with deft fingers.

Sofia nodded. “That’s a good idea! Thank you, Viola. I’ll go and ask them now, and then I’ll be on my way.” She tilted her head to one side, smiling absently. “It shouldn’t take us long at all. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“So, is the other list for me?” Scarecrow asked.

Theo handed him the other piece of paper with a little nod. “Exactly! I don’t know if you want to ask anyone to assist you, since a lot of these items come from deep inside various caves.”

Millard immediately put down his cup of plum tea, but before he could stand, let alone say anything, Scarecrow spoke again. “You’ve been out all morning so far, Millard, and I know you’ve been working with few breaks lately,” he said. “You’ll do no-one any favours if you collapse. Even if it’s only an hour or so, you’d be better off resting.”

The young cleric sighed. “Logically, I understand that. I just wish I could help more.”

“Help more?” Viola repeated. She got up and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Between you and Theo, I don’t think you could help more.” The thief fixed Theo with a friendly glare. “Neither of you should overdo it.”

“You’ve been helping Shelby, right?” Scarecrow countered. “Are you sure you’re not overdoing it, either?”

“This isn’t a contest, ya know,” Gilderoy said, pointedly not looking at them. He carefully set the first pan down, then picked up the second one to clean that one, too.

Viola put the cards down. “No, it’s an extremely serious situation, and sometimes some of us need reminders, that’s all.” The words were sharp, but there was a smile on her face.

Millard sighed and picked up his teacup again.

“We can only rest properly when the situation is not so dire,” Theo said, scrubbing at his face with his hands and silently acknowledging that the last few days had been tough on him, too. “For now, all we can do is make sure we take the necessary precautions and rest when we can. Scarecrow,” he said, turning to face the hunter. “Do you want to ask anyone to go with you?”

“Do I want to? Of course not,” Scarecrow snorted. He put his hands on his hips and let out a big sigh, shaking his head wryly. “But I will. I’ll see if Cless wants to come and give me a hand, if he’s not too deep in his cups.”

“Just don’t let Guti see you go!” Gilderoy called as the hunter was leaving. “He’ll want to go, too!”

Scarecrow laughed. “I had the same thought, myself!”

The door closed, and Theo sighed. The past few days had been incredibly busy as it was, and now that at least one of their number was sick, well, as Viola said… that changed things. Especially if any of the others succumbed to the illness.

If Sofia and Scarecrow returned quickly with enough of the requisite ingredients, it would make things a lot easier. For Rodion and Shelby, too.

Firstly, he needed to check on Lynette, and make sure she got her share of the medicine.

Chapter Text

Standing in front of the room that the ladies were sharing, Theo balanced the tray he was carrying on one hand and gently knocked with the other. He heard a muffled, “Come in!” from the other side, so he carefully turned the doorknob, before putting both hands on the tray and turning so he could push the door open with his back.

Thankfully, it looked like Fiore had managed to get Lynette into bed and wrapped up warmly. She was still wearing the thick shawl, too. The dancer was sitting propped up against the headboard, coughing into a handkerchief, and looking weary and rather miserable. It didn’t suit her, Theo thought, as he came into the room and set the tray on the table.

Fiore was perched on a chair by the bedside. “What have you got there?” she asked, curiously peering at the tray as he set it down on the table.

Theo pointed to each of the small bottles in turn. “This is a fever reducing agent,” he said, pointing to a bottle half-filled with clear liquid. “A spoonful of this amber coloured one will help soothe your throat,” he went on, pointing to the tallest of the bottles. “Finally, this one is rosehip syrup; a tonic that will give your recovery a boost,” he finished, pointing at a rather squat looking bottle. He rattled a small box, obviously containing some tablets of some sort. “These were given to me by Rodion, for headaches. I still have some Feverfew as well.”

“So many different things? Can’t you just… combine them into one? Oh, but then, what if they taste bad?” Fiore wondered, tapping the side of a bottle with her fingernail.

Theo laughed. “Well, different patients might require different doses, so it’s best to keep them separate.” He set his satchel on the other chair and took out a couple more packages. “There is also this one, which will help you sleep, if you need it, and this is a balm, if your nose gets too sore from blowing it all the time.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Lynette exclaimed. He hadn't noticed it ealier, but her nose was already looking a little red.

“What about that one?” Fiore said then, pointing to an ornate flask at the edge of the tray. Steam curled up from a tiny gap in the lid.

“That is another of my grandmother’s special recipes!” Theo grinned. “And it is just for Lynette. Perhaps you could try some if you come down with this flu, too, but for now, it is a little treat only for the sick.”

Fiore pouted a little at that. “Now I’m really curious!” she said. “Although, not so curious as to want to be ill to try it. You’ve got to let me know what it’s like when you’ve had some, Lynette!”

The dancer laughed, and then grimaced. Even that sounded painful.

“How are you feeling?” Theo asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Not very well, I’m afraid,” Lynette sighed. Tiredly, she pushed her blonde hair behind her ears and plucked at the bedclothes. “Injuries from dancing are one thing, but being ill is truly miserable!”

“It really is,” Fiore sympathised. “I remember my father looking after me when I was unwell. Mother, well, she tried, but…” the swordswoman trailed off, looking a little embarrassed. “Anyway!" She went on. "Is there anything else I can do?”

“I’d been meaning to ask the innkeeper if he’s got anything left in the kitchens that a sick person could eat,” Theo mused. “If you could ask in my place, that would be a great help!”

“I can do that,” Fiore said, springing to her feet. “Any requests, Lynette? Or is it meant to be one of those healthy meals?” she asked Theo.

“Healthy is good, but hearty is better,” Theo replied, after a moment. “It would be better still if it has a bit of both,” he mused. “The body needs lots of energy to fight off this influenza.”

“A bit of both. Got it!”

Theo watched as the swordswoman gave Lynette a quick hug and then dashed from the room. He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. He wished he had her energy sometimes.

He gave Lynette a sympathetic look. “You must be feeling terrible,” he noted.

“I am,” she sniffed. “I hate feeling like this. I’m so tired, my chest hurts from coughing so much, and my throat hurts so badly, I can’t swallow. I hate looking like this, too. I mean, I’m not vain, but I just feel so… rough right now. I’m really worried, too.”

“That’s not surprising,” Theo said. “Illnesses like this can really take a toll, both physically and mentally.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so worried it’ll take me a long time to recover from this, and I don’t want my dancing to suffer. There’s still so much out there to learn! There’s still this business with the Rings, too.” Lynette sighed, bringing her fists down to thump the blankets gently. “You hear people talking about really bad infections and the like, and how some people are never the same after them. I just can’t stop worrying right now.”

The apothecary reached out and took one of Lynette’s hands in both of his. “Everyone goes through things like this,” he said softly. “Even me, although it has been quite a while. I remember I wasn’t a particularly good patient, when I was younger,” he recalled with a smile. He recalled feeling absolutely rotten when he'd had the flu in his childhood. He hadn't like the tastes of the various medicines his grandmother gave him, either. “You are strong," he went on, "so you should overcome this quickly.”

“How can you be so confident?” Lynette said, before dashing the handkerchief to her face to cough loudly. It sounded painful, like the illness had gone straight to her chest and lungs. Her fears were possibly justified, he thought, but he wasn’t about to let his friends down.

Theo looked at her, at the tears that threatened to leak from the corners of her eyes. “I have faith in you and your strength, of course,” he said simply. “These remedies are tried and tested, my grandmother’s own recipes, and I know they work well. It might be a hardship now, but you will be better soon. I promise you that.”

Lynette stared at him for a moment, and then gave a watery smile. “I really am sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She laughed at herself. “I’m not usually like this.”

“But you’ve never really been one to get ill, have you?” Theo guessed shrewdly.

“No, thank goodness! Up until now, I’ve usually been very healthy.” The dancer sighed, but her mood seemed lighter. “That’s why it’s so frustrating, and worrying, too!”

The apothecary had to laugh. “Well,” he said, gesturing to the tray and its content on the table. “We’ve got everything we need over there, and a little treat, too. You’ll be back on your feet and dancing in no time.”

“Thank you,” Lynette said, her voice croaking badly but her tone was sincere. “We really don’t appreciate good health sometimes.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Theo agreed, getting to his feet. He picked a bottle from the tray, opened it, and poured a measure into a small cup. “Now, once you’ve taken these medicines, I’ll show you my grandmother’s patented recipe for raising spirits when you’re feeling under the weather,” he said, handing the cup to her.

“I’m intrigued!” Lynette daintily drank the contents, and grimaced a little at the taste. “That’s got to be the one for the sore throat, hasn’t it?” she winced. “The rosehip one would be sweeter. With a syrup, I’d expect it to have sugar or honey in the preparation stages.”

“That’s a very good guess!” Theo was surprised. Very few people knew what went into medicine: they were just happy to have it when it was needed. “Indeed, that one was for sore throats and for dislodging phlegm from the chest. Hardly anyone likes the taste of that one,” he added, giving her a sidelong look with merry eyes. “I can speak from experience on that one. Perhaps you would make a good apothecary!”

“I wonder if I can guess the ingredients of the fever reducing one, then,” Lynette said. “It would be nice to have another string to my bow. Oh, not like that! I don’t mean if I can’t be a dancer any more! I just mean that, with things as dangerous as they often are, perhaps having another skilled in medicine on the field might be useful.”

Theo sat in silence for a while, regarding her carefully. In the space of a few moments, the dancer had gone from being upset about her future to being back to her optimistic, cheerful self, even going so far as to look for other ways she could help in the band. He really did admire her strength of will.

“In that case, I’ll teach you all you need to know,” he laughed. “Looks like this apprentice has an apprentice, too!”

“I’d like that, thank you!” the dancer said brightly. “Well, then, shall we begin? I’m eager to see what’s in this treat of yours, too.”

“That one isn’t much of a secret, I’m afraid.” Theo picked up the flask and removed the lid, watching as sweet-smelling steam coiled its way out and rose into the air. He passed it to her and watched as she delicately sniffed the contents. As her eyes lit up in understanding, they shared a knowing look before they both started laughing.

“I can see why you didn’t want Fiore to have this,” Lynette said, trying not to spill the contents.

“She doesn’t really hold her drink very well yet, does she?” Theo agreed, the grin not leaving his face. He shook his head, thinking of all the times Fiore had been the first to retire after a night in the tavern. “It’s just hot whiskey, honey, some citrus, and some other spices. The only real things of medicinal value in there are the honey and citrus, but it lifts the spirits like no other. I’d say that’s worthwhile in itself!”

“I’d agree with you there,” Lynette replied. She leaned over and placed the flask on the bedside table, pushing it carefully away from the edge. “I suppose I’d better have those other medicines first, though, shouldn’t I?”

“It’s probably a good idea. The hot whiskey should relax you, but if you can’t rest after that, there is always the chamomile and valerian mix.” Theo couldn’t resist giving Lynette the details of what was in the sleep aid he mentioned earlier, especially given her current interest in the apothecary arts.

“My throat feels better already, and I haven’t coughed in a while, either. Thank you, Theo,” Lynette said simply.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile.

Chapter Text

Theo quietly picked up the now empty tray, having left the medicine bottles on the table in the room, and softly left the room. The door shut with a tiny click, and he sighed. Before she had fallen asleep, Lynette seemed in much better spirits. The medicines were working on her cough and sore throat, which was excellent news, but with symptoms often feeling worse at night, he was a bit worried.

He felt torn, too. Should he focus on his friends, or focus on helping out the townsfolk?

He knew what everyone would say. “Millard is helping Rodion, and Viola is helping Shelby. If anyone needs anything, we can help, too! You should focus on Lynette for now.”

As an apothecary, though, he felt he should be helping as many people as possible. It was a bit of a dilemma.

Theo shook his head. Nothing good would come of thinking like this. He had a job to do, friend or no. Sighing, he tucked the tray under his arm and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. By his estimation, it was now late afternoon, and the innkeeper would have been preparing the evening meals for the inn’s residents.

He wondered if Fiore had spoken to the innkeeper, too.

When he got to the kitchen, Theo knocked smartly on the door and then pushed it open. If the smells coming from inside the kitchen were anything to go by, someone had indeed been working hard all afternoon. He could see pots bubbling away on various stoves, no doubt full of meat and vegetables, and several loaves of crusty, freshly-baked bread sat on one of the tables. It was a scene of complete industry.

In the middle of which was Fiore.

She looked in her element, if he was honest. Knife in hand, a big smile on her face, and a big pan of chicken bones bubbling away in front of her, Fiore was getting ready to chop some carrots and onions. A bundle of herbs sat behind the chopping board, and there was a jar of something close by. Theo thought he could smell garlic, too.

“Hello, Fiore,” he said, coming into the kitchen proper. “You look busy!”

The swordswoman put the knife down and grinned at him. “I am! Once the majority of the work was done on the stews, Rosemary asked if I’d look after them for her. All I need to do is make sure they don’t boil over.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Theo agreed. He set the tray down on one of the dressers, where the crockery was apparently kept. “Rosemary must trust you a lot.”

“I think she does!” Fiore said brightly. “She was very interested when I asked if there was anything a sick person could eat in the pantry. She feels bad for Lynette, too.” Fiore’s enthusiasm dropped a bit, and she asked, “How’s Lynette doing?”

“She’s not doing too badly at all, all things considered,” Theo replied. “The medicine started working really quickly, so that’s a very good sign.”

“That’s a relief!” Fiore said, her voice rising dramatically. Theo smiled at that.

“What are you making? Presumably something you didn’t need Rosemary’s help for?”

“Oh, this? This is simple! As soon as I found out there was some chicken here, I asked if I could make my father’s special chicken soup. It’s really good for colds and flu!” Fiore picked up a wooden spoon and tapped the side of the bubbling pan with it. For someone so accustomed to swinging a sword around, she looked remarkably at home in a kitchen.

Perhaps it was easy to see who had been doing most of the chores in Fiore’s household, especially after the events with Guido and Fiore’s mother in Rippletide.

“My grandmother swears by it as well,” Theo said, steering his thoughts back to their conversation. “Sometimes the old methods are the best,” he smiled.

Fiore nodded, placing an onion on the chopping board and picking up the knife. With a deft stroke, she sliced the top off the onion, and spun it around, ready to take off the root. “My father always made this for me when I was sick,” she said. “Speaking with Lynette earlier reminded me about it, about him. He was so good to us.”

Theo patted her on the shoulder. “It sounds like he was a wonderful person.”

“He was.” Fiore sniffed. “Ahh, these onions are quite strong!” she exclaimed. Theo could see her eyes were watering, but before he could say anything she had started to chop again. The knife went through the onion easily, and it was only when the root fell away that he saw the blood on the chopping board.

Fiore gasped, and dropped the knife, clutching her hand and turning it this way and that. Blood dribbled down one side of her left index finger from a nasty looking cut by the nail but, thank goodness, Fiore wasn’t panicking. Compared to some of the injuries they’d sustained in battles before, this was relatively minor, but it was still worthy of concern.

Theo reacted instantly. He reached into his satchel and drew out a piece of clean cloth, and wrapped Fiore’s finger with it. “Hold your arm up,” he advised, before waving to one of the kitchen stools. “You might want to sit down as well. You might be used to this, but the body has a habit of surprising us at times.”

“I think I will,” Fiore said with a weak laugh. She sat down, holding her hand close to her chest and peering at it closely. The cloth was starting to stain a bit with red, and she winced. “I knew those onions had it in for me,” she said.

“This is a sentence I never thought I’d say, but it really does seem like onions are the most dangerous vegetable,” Theo replied wryly. “You’d be surprised how many kitchen-related accidents happen because of impaired vision due to onions.”

“You’re joking?!” Fiore exclaimed, a smile appearing on her face.

“Am I?” Theo teased. Perhaps he shouldn't have been smiling, not in a situation like this, but Fiore's reactions were contagious. “But it is true that I have been called to mend many a slice from people who have cut themselves in the kitchen. Something like this is fairly simple to mend.”

“Then… I won’t need stitches or anything?” Fiore’s voice sounded hopeful.

The apothecary shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t think so. I’ll know more when I’ve had a look at it, but it should be fine.”

“That’s a relief! I can’t believe I did that… especially when making something for Lynette.” Fiore looked at her hand and sighed. “I should have been more careful. Perhaps Mother was right…”

“Whatever your mother might have said, accidents happen to the best of us,” Theo said. He took a cloth and wiped any droplets of blood from the chopping board and knife, and then put them into the sink to wash later. With a smile, he turned to her and said, “Your mother made her share of mistakes, too, and probably continues to do so. Well, then,” he went on, ignoring Fiore’s open-mouthed shock. “Let’s see what we can do about your finger, hm?”

Fiore was silent for a moment, then she smiled. “Thank you,” she said, extending her hand towards Theo. He unwrapped it clinically and used a stray end of the fabric to gently clean it, then peered at it curiously. It was still bleeding, but the cut was nowhere near as serious as he had first thought. The nail was still intact too, which was a bonus.

“This should be simple,’ Theo mused. “I have a lotion that will stop the bleeding fairly fast and cleanse the wound thoroughly, and then I can apply a cream that will help with any pain and aid healing. We can wrap it back up in a clean bandage, just a small one, and that should be it!” He paused, pursing his lips slightly. “If you like, we can ask Millard if he can heal it away to nothing for you. I am certain he wouldn't mind.”

Fiore waved her free hand airily. “Mill’s already exhausted from helping everyone else. This is just a cut! It’ll heal by itself. That man really should rest more!” she sighed.

“He should,” Theo agreed. He released Fiore’s hand and took several jars from his satchel, which he set on the countertop. It took longer for him to explain what each medicine did than it did to treat the cut, but soon Fiore was flexing her fingers and marvelling at the lack of pain.

“It shouldn’t affect how you hold a sword, but I would still rest your hand for a day or two,” the apothecary advised. He put the jars back into his bag, silently praising the efficacy of his grandmother’s recipes.

“But… now I won’t be able to finish the soup for Lynette,” Fiore lamented. It was true. With her finger wrapped up, even with a small bandage, cooking would be difficult. Not impossible, but...

Theo thought for a moment. For all his skill with a pestle and mortar, he had never really considered himself a good cook. Still, with Fiore advising and with half the work already done, hopefully it wouldn’t turn out too bad. “If you tell me what to do, perhaps I could help?” he offered.

Fiore hopped off the stool and stood next to him, her eyes wide. “Would you? That would be a great help! Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Theo laughed. “Wait and see what the final product tastes like.”

“Oh, it’s pretty difficult for anyone to fail using this method,” Fiore grinned.

There was still time before the others started coming back, and he didn’t have to check in on Lynette for a while, either. He thought that Gilderoy must have finished in town, but presumably someone would come and find him if anything else had happened.

Squaring his shoulders, he moved the offending, bloodied onion to one side, and selected a fresh one himself. He picked up a clean knife from the block and held the onion in place.

“Well then,” he said briskly. “Let’s make soup!”

The soup turned out far better than it should have, in Theo’s opinion. It certainly smelled good, redolent with soft, savoury chicken and a gentle warmth of onion and garlic, and even as they were deciding how best to distribute it, Rosemary came back and offered to help.

They eventually decided that Rosemary would help Fiore take a bowl up to Lynette’s room, and then they could leave it on the hob in the kitchen, and anyone who wanted a bowl could help themselves. Fiore had thanked Theo profusely, both for the medical help and for being a listening ear, and he waved it off with a smile.

“All part of the service,” he said cheerfully. “And, even if it wasn’t, I would still want to do it, as your friend.”

At that, Fiore had hugged him, and then hurried off with Rosemary up to Lynette’s room.

Chapter Text

What a day, Theo thought, leaning against the wall outside the kitchen. I should probably take my own advice and rest. Millard and Viola would likely be back soon, and Gilderoy as well, and depending on what the jeweller was able to get, Theo might find himself busy preparing medicines into the night again.

He pondered about getting some tea, to revive himself a bit. As far as he was aware, the day had given way to night, and although it was difficult to tell with a permanently snow-filled sky, the sun had gone down. The others should be finding their way back soon, so perhaps he should make the most of the quiet time to get a bit of food, too?

Ironically, it hadn’t even crossed his mind about eating when he was in the kitchen, he was too focused on helping Fiore.

Well, that was something that was easily remedied, at least. He could try a bowl of the soup they’d worked on, and some of the bread that Rosemary had made that morning. That would be good.

As he was about to open the door and go back into the kitchen, he was greeted by the innkeeper, Alder. The man was tall, but portly with it, and had a shock of brown hair that swept back from his forehead, presumably in an attempt to cover a bald spot. “Ah, there you are! I’m glad I was able to find you.” He patted his apron and pulled out a piece of paper, slightly dog-eared at the edge and folded in half. “This message came for you just now. One of the Knight Ardante apprentices must have ran all the way here with it.”

“The Knights Ardante?” Theo repeated, taking the piece of paper and unfolding it. On it were words in Sofia’s own handwriting, looking a little wobbly, as if the scholar’s hand had been shaking a bit. Theo smiled. He knew Sofia still didn’t really do well in the cold.

Dear Theo,

We arrived at our first and second destinations with no problems, and managed to collect most of the ingredients on your list, Oh, but we made sure to leave plenty behind, so they can still grow next year, too! We did run into a little problem, though.

On our way to the third location, we were hampered by the weather and Miles suggested we take shelter in a small hut the Knights Ardante apprentices maintain. Miles asked a friend to send this message to you, and he, Raudi, Felline and myself are all staying here overnight. We’ll be back in the morning, as travelling at night is too dangerous in this weather. Or in any weather, really. We'll set out at first light.

See you tomorrow,

Sofia.

At least they would be safe overnight, and they had been able to gather a lot of the ingredients. That would be a great help! Theo folded the piece of paper again and tucked it into his pocket.

“Thank you, Alder!” he said, more brightly than he felt. “Ah, my friend won’t be back tonight. I hope that won’t be a problem?”

“Not at all, my boy, not at all. You’re already doing so much for this town.” Alder started to leave, but then he stopped himself, smacking the side of his head dramatically. “Oh, there was another thing. Your other friend, the jeweller? He came back a little while ago, and was sitting in the common room. He looked a bit pale, though. Perhaps you could see how he is?”

Gilderoy was back from his excursion, and wasn’t feeling too well? “I think I had better see how he is,” Theo said, patting his faithful satchel fondly. “Where can I find you, if I need anything?”

“Oh, I’ll be in one of the rooms, or in the room above the bathhouse. You’ll find me easily enough,” Alder promised, and with that, he nodded once and turned back down the corridor.

“Not you too, Gilderoy,” Theo murmured.

Fortunately, it was a matter of strides to get to the common room. The drapes had been drawn and the room was lit with candles, and from the glow of the roaring fire. There was no sign of Viola or Millard, so Theo assumed they must both still be helping the town’s other apothecaries, but…

He noticed Gilderoy sitting listlessly in a chair by the fire, pack carelessly dropped to the floor, and with his head tilted back. His eyes were closed, almost scrunched up as if he was in pain, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Welcome back, Gilderoy,” Theo greeted him, coming over the fireplace and standing next to him. “How was your business in town?”

Gilderoy opened his eyes and squinted at him. “Ah, not great, actually,” he replied, sitting forward a bit and resting his forearms on his thighs. “The new arrival in town didn’t have much on ‘em worth buying at all. I think they were here more to buy wood than anythin’,” he added.

“That’s a shame, but we’ve had some good news here, at least. Sofia has been able to get most of the things on her list, and will be back tomorrow.” Theo set his satchel down and peered closely at the merchant. “But in terms of bad news, it looks like you’re suffering a bit as well. How long have you been feeling unwell?”

“Can’t get anything past ya, can I?” Gilderoy laughed. If his voice was anything to go by, his throat didn’t sound sore, like Lynette’s had. It did sound like his nose was blocked up, though. “It came on around mid afternoon, I think? Kind of lost track of time, talking shop with the other merchants. My nose is all stuffed up, my muscles are really sore, and my head is poundin’. Guess I’ve got it, too,” he lamented.

Theo thought for a moment. “I would need to check a few things, but it doesn’t sound like you have it as bad as Lynette does,” he said thoughtfully. He remembered the tablets that Rodion had given him, and took them out of his satchel. “These should help with your headache, at least. As for your nose, well,” he paused. “How difficult is it to breathe?” he asked.

Gilderoy shook his head. “Honestly? Can’t really breathe through my nose at all, and I hate it.”

Theo laughed. “I remember being the same. I hated it, too.”

“I remember, back in the day, Ma used to have a bowl of steamin’ water with some herbs in it, and I’d sit over it to breathe in the steam. Worked like a charm,” Gilderoy reflected, and a smile appeared on his face. “I wonder if we could do that here? I'd love to be able to breathe properly again.”

“I don’t see why not. In fact, you’ve just given me an idea.” Theo smiled. “Are you up for a little walk?”

As it happened, Gilderoy was up for a walk. The jeweller asked where they were going, but Theo said nothing, merely showing the way. They first went up to the room the men shared to stow Gilderoy’s pack there, and then walked through the inn, to the room at the very back of the building, where Alder had built his bathhouse.

Alder’s bathhouse was small and cosy, with no windows and two old wooden benches sitting against the walls. At the far end was a rather large furnace, above which was a large cast iron cauldron. The top of it appeared to be disappearing into the ceiling, which was an interesting innovation, to say the least. A metal pipe had been attached to the base of the cauldron as well, the end of which sat on the side of the bath.

It was Alder’s pride and joy: his son in law had apparently designed, created and installed it, and it meant they could have hot water for bathing whenever they wanted. All they needed to do was open a valve.

The bath itself stood right in the centre. Theo was no expert on the wood it was made from, but it gleamed golden in the firelight and was smooth to the touch. No splinters, then, thank goodness! It was long enough for a tall person to stretch out their legs, and deep enough that the water would come up to a person’s collarbones when sitting.

“We even use snow that builds up on the roofs ‘round here,” Alder had said earlier, a proud smile on his face. “It gets shovelled straight into that pot from upstairs when it’s needed.”

Thankfully the hand-written sign on the door said it was currently free of guests, and Theo said as much. Before they went in, he turned the sign over to reveal the word “Occupied”.

“Everyone’s probably eatin’ right now,” Gilderoy said, standing a little straighter as the warmth from the room hit him. “Which reminds me, I haven’t eaten yet, either. I should probably get somethin’ soon.”

“This shouldn’t take long,” Theo said. Guiltily he remembered that he hadn’t eaten yet, either, but he said nothing. Instead, he took off his satchel and set it on the bench by the wall. “It’s a bit old fashioned, but a bath might actually help you a lot.”

“I don’t even have the energy to joke right now, just in case that was a quip about my age,” Gilderoy said, a weary grin on his face. “I like the idea, though. Reminds me of home. My family home, I mean, back in the Riverlands.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t implying you were old or anything,” Theo had brought out a couple of small bottles and was inspecting the contents closely. “You just reminded me about certain very efficient remedies for reducing mucus via inhalation,” he said, selecting one with a purple tinge and swirling it gently.

“So… it’ll get rid of the gunk blocking my nose?” Gilderoy laughed, folding his arms.

“It will help, at least,” Theo agreed. He held up the two bottles. “Which would you like? Highlands peppermint, or Riverlands lavender? Both are supposed to be good for clearing the nose and soothing sore muscles. It should warm you up, too.”

Gilderoy’s face took on a nostalgic look when Theo said the words Riverlands lavender, and the apothecary smiled. “This one, then?”

“I’d like that,” Gilderoy said simply.

“Well then, I’ll get the bath ready, and then I’ll leave you to it,” Theo said, taking the stopper out of the bottle and putting it down on the side of the bath. He went over to a panel on the wall, next to the furnace, and opened the valve, allowing hot water to suddenly sluice down the pipe. He then added a few drops of the lavender oil to the water, and gave it a stir with a very, very cautious hand.

“I was expecting the water to be boiling, but it’s the perfect temperature. Alder really has thought of everything,” Theo marvelled, closing the valve again.

“Ya know, Ma always used to use this kind of oil,” Gilderoy was taking off his boots, then started on the buttons on his jacket. He paused, his eyes distant, before starting up again. “Whenever I got sick, she’d bring this out. I always thought it was for women, like a perfume or somethin’, but she said her mother had sworn by it. It always worked, too.”

“There is a lot of wisdom in family medicine.” Theo knew that from experience. Over the course of his travels, he’d met many a family with their own recipe for some sort of homemade medicine. As apothecaries shared their knowledge, so others augmented and experimented with it, and came up with interesting variations of their own.

“It’s more than that, though,” Gilderoy said, reaching for the waistband of his trousers. Theo turned and went to inspect something in his satchel. They may have shared plenty of time together on the road, when privacy was a luxury and they’d seen much more of each other than any traveller should have expected, but Theo still preferred to give him the choice.

“There’s memories mixed up in that scent, for me,” Gilderoy went on, after a pause. Theo heard the splashing of water, and then a long sigh. “It’s weird, but that makes me feel better, too. The memories. Maybe that’s part of the remedy? I don’t know.”

“Well,” Theo found what he was looking for in his bag, and he took them out. The glass jars he’d picked up were starting to get misty from all the steam in the room. “There are some who would say that the mental factor has no place in ordinary medicine, but I am not one of those people.”

“That’s good to know, Theo,” Gilderoy said quietly. After a fashion, he said, “Ya know, this was a really good idea.”

“I am glad you think so.” Theo couldn’t help but smile. He turned his head, and saw that the older man had his back to him, his arms stretched out along the side of the tub. “I can leave you with a little extra, if you like? I’ve got some ointment here that you can rub on your chest, if your nose gets blocked up again overnight. It’s a blend of ingredients, but it also contains a bit of lavender, so it might help you sleep, too. This one here,” and he held up the other jar, “contains a balm for sore muscles. If you can reach, then you can apply it to wherever you need to.”

Gilderoy snorted indelicately. “And what if I can’t reach?” he joked.

“Well, I’m sure one of us will give you a back rub,” Theo laughed back.

“That sounds nice, actually,” came the reply. “I might hold ya to that!”

Chapter Text

Theo sighed, feeling more than a little tired. He must have been helping Gilderoy for at least a couple of hours, eventually getting the other man back to their room and making sure he was settled. Whilst he had been upstairs, he’d checked in on Lynette as well, and thankfully the dancer was doing a lot better. After some doses of medicine before bed for both of them, he’d left them alone to rest.

His stomach rumbled loudly, and he let out an embarrassed little laugh. I wonder if there’s anything left on the stove in the kitchen? he wondered, scratching his head ruefully. I’m in danger of becoming a hypocrite.

I’ll just see if Viola, Millard, and Scarecrow are back, and then I’ll see if there’s anything to eat. Maybe they haven’t eaten yet, either.

With that in mind, he followed the corridors back to the common room. There had been few guests when they’d arrived, several days ago, but there were even less now. People had left as soon as they’d found out about the influenza outbreak, preferring to move on once the bad weather had broken. Theo didn’t meet a single soul as he walked through the inn. It felt odd.

The common room door was already open, so he knew that someone was back. He entered the room and saw Viola, sitting by the fire. She looked weary, or at least, as tired as he had ever seen the seemingly indefatigable thief, and she had removed her gloves and was rubbing at her wrists.

“Busy afternoon?” Theo asked, walking over to stand by the fire.

Viola snorted softly. “Afternoon? It feels like we’ve had nothing but busy days lately,” she said, her eyes crinkling with mirth. “But to answer your question, yes, this afternoon has been a lot busier than usual. Shelby found a good stock of dried rosehips and some herbs that are good for coughs, although their names escape me, and I’ve spent most of the afternoon either chopping them up or grinding them down.” She cast a sidelong glance at him. “Apothecaries must have some fairly solid muscles!”

“It does take a bit of effort to prepare certain things in the apothecary trade,” Theo smiled. The fire popped, and he jumped a bit. “Sorry,” he said then. “I seem to be a little wound up.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Viola replied. "I feel a bit like that, myself."

Theo set his satchel down and pulled up a chair, letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. It felt so nice to just take the weight off his feet!

For a time, no words were said. They simply sat in silence, moodily staring into the flames. Someone had been around and replaced some of the candles, so there was still the same level of light in the room despite the lateness of the hour.

“So, how is Lynette?” Viola wondered, once again rubbing at her wrist.

“She is doing much better,” Theo replied. “Both she and Gilderoy are responding well to the medicine, and should be back to normal in a couple of days. Assuming they rest,” he added.

“Gilderoy, too?” When Theo nodded, Viola went on. “I should have known. Sometimes it feels like we’re all too stubborn for our own good. Please tell me that Fiore’s not sick, too?”

Theo shook his head. “No, Fiore is fine. She nicked her finger with a knife earlier, but it was nothing serious. She seems as healthy as ever,” he said with a grin.

“How that girl has so much energy is beyond me,” Viola laughed.

“I wish I could bottle that energy sometimes. It would make an amazing tonic!” Theo agreed. Then a little more seriously, he added. “Sofia will be coming back tomorrow, though. They don’t want to travel at night, so they’re staying at a place the Knights maintain. How was Shelby? And did you run into Millard and Rodion at all?”

Viola leaned back in the chair, and Theo thought he could see a wince appear on the thief’s face as she straightened her arm. “Shelby is as tired as I am,” she said, leaning her head against the back of the chair. Some of her hair spilled over the edge and hung down. “She decided to take a break for the night, thank goodness. A woman with some common sense! Quite a rare commodity, these days. It’s a shame you can’t steal something like common sense. Something tells me it would be priceless.

As for Millard and Rodion, I bumped into Rodion on my way back. He said that Millard had been helping someone who had badly injured themselves, and was staying with them overnight to make sure there were no further problems.”

As Viola spoke, Theo watched as she flexed her fingers, splaying them out, then bunching them back into a fist repeatedly, and saw the tightness around her eyes. When she had finished talking, he decided to say something.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked, gesturing to her hands.

“Do you ever stop being an apothecary?” Viola quipped back, inclining her head to look up at him almost through her eyebrows. There was a look of mild rebuke on her face.

He held up his hands apologetically. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude. But you are right, though. I don’t think I could ever stop being an apothecary, no more than Gilderoy could stop looking for precious gems, or Sofia could stop looking at plants.” Theo paused, having to stop himself from opening his satchel and fetching some ointment or something. “It’s a part of me. Just as when I see someone who is hurting, even if they are trying to hide it, I want to do something to help them.”

“Oh, I see! You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Theo?” Now Viola had a big grin on her face. “This?” she said, shaking her hands out, “is nothing. Hopefully it will return to normal with a little rest.”

Theo found himself unable to refute Viola’s words, so he carried on anyway. He was a worrier. He just thought he had hidden it better. “What happened?”

“I overdid it, that’s all. I’m not used to the effort you need in order to use a pestle and mortar, and my wrists are sore.” To emphasise her point, the thief flexed her hands back and forth, visibly wincing this time. “Very sore. A thief with bad wrists is clumsy, and that leads to all kinds of mortality problems. Not to mention how troublesome it would be to be unable to hold a dagger properly in a fight.”

“May I see?” Theo asked, and as Viola extended her right wrist toward him he gently took it, supporting her hand and gently moving it back and forth. His fingers ran knowingly across the delicate wrist bones, looking for anything that might be out of the ordinary. He repeated the process with her other arm, and then sat back in his chair.

“I can’t feel any tears or ruptures, although I think you would know if that had happened,” he said finally. “I know what you’re going to say. I was worried about nothing, you were right all along.” When Viola just smiled enigmatically at him, he went on. “You’re right! I am a bit of a worrier. I just didn’t want you to be struggling. I do have a liniment that will dull the pain for you, if you like. It will aid healing too, but I can’t guarantee that your wrists won’t get worse if you end up doing more of the same work tomorrow.”

Viola rose from her chair and uncharacteristically put her arms around Theo’s shoulders. “Don’t worry so much,” she said fondly, ruffling his hair. “Honestly, you’re like the little brother I never had. Besides, Sofia showed me a couple of exercises that artists use when they get sore wrists and hands as well, so between the two of you, I should be well taken care of.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Theo said, reaching up to give the thief a quick hug back.

Never one to let things get too awkward, Viola let him go and sat down in her chair again. Theo took the opportunity to find the liniment in his bag, and when he did he passed the small bottle to Viola. “It’s quite strong,” he warned, “so you only need a small amount. I will warn you that it’s not the best smelling ointment in the world, though.”

“Duly noted!” she said, before stowing it in the pouch at her waist.

They lapsed into easy silence again, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. Theo could almost feel himself getting a bit drowsy with the warmth. The thought of being able to tuck himself into bed and allow himself an hour or two of sleep was very tempting, but…

“I’m worried about Scarecrow,” Theo said, forcing himself to sit up straight.

“He’s a big boy,” Viola replied. She had her eyes closed, but was probably more alert than he was. She was still idly rubbing her right wrist, though. “He can take care of himself. Not to mention that Cless is with him.”

“I know that, but…”

“You can’t help but worry?” Viola smirked.

Theo couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “I can’t help but worry,” he agreed. With a self-deprecating shake of his head, he went on. “In my head, I know you’re right. He’ll be fine. In my heart, well… You can’t turn off that little voice that just says ’what if?’”

Viola opened her eyes and looked at him kindly. “It’s been a long few days, and we’re all a bit fraught. Tiredness lets the thoughts in, and helps them to become overwhelming. You should probably get some food, too. I bet you haven’t eaten anything yet, have you?”

Just as Theo was about to reply, there was a commotion in the hallway, and he could hear the voices of two men, grumbling and muttering at each other. The voices grew louder as they approached, and seemingly just as they were about to come through the common room door, he heard Scarecrow’s voice say, “Shut it, I’m fine.”

“Fine, my hairy ar…” Cless started, but he stopped when he looked up and saw Theo and Viola looking at him curiously. “...armpits,” the silver-haired thief finished lamely.

“Good evening, Cless,” Viola said, her tone playful.

“Here, he’s all yours,” Cless said, helping Scarecrow into one of the chairs by the shuttered window. There was a long, bleeding gash down the hunter’s left thigh. “He didn’t get out of the way in time and got himself sliced by a Lizardman’s blade. Since he insisted on getting whatever we’d gathered back here as fast as possible, we’ve been slogging through the snow for miles. I need a drink.”

That was possibly the most they’d heard Cless speak for quite a while.

Scarecrow was scowling as the other thief set the bag of gathered goods down on the table. He set Scarecrow’s bow down with a bit more respect, though. “Thanks, Cless,” he said eventually. “If not for you, I…”

“No need,” the older man said. “Well, then, if you need me for anything else, you know where to find me. I hope you will leave me to enjoy my drink, though,” he added, before turning and leaving the room.

Theo looked to Viola, who stood up and sighed. “I’d better get you both something to eat, and then I’m going to bed. Thank you for the ointment, Theo.” Ruffling Theo’s hair one last time, Viola left the room herself, closing the door quietly behind her.

“Right, then,” Theo said, trying to banish his lethargy with willpower. Somehow, his needlecase and antiseptic solution were already in his hands. “Let’s get you patched up, shall we?”

Chapter Text

“Let’s get you patched up, shall we?”

Theo placed the antiseptic solution and his needlecase on the tabletop, and then moved the pack of gathered medical supplies onto the floor. He’d need lots of light for this, so he fetched a candle from the other side of the room and kept moving it around until he was satisfied.

“What are you still doing up? The cathedral was ringing the midnight bell when we got back.”

Scarecrow had a point. “It really has been busy, whilst you were out,” Theo said mildly, taking a cloth and folding it into a neat square. He uncorked the antiseptic and held the cloth over the opening, tipping it up until the liquid had soaked into the fabric. He held up the cloth, giving it a slight wave.

“I need to clean your wound, I’m afraid,” he said ruefully, “and your trousers look rather damaged. If there’s any material in the way, then anything left on there could further contaminate the wound and infect it.”

The other man sighed. “I thought you might need to,” Scarecrow muttered. “I suppose there’s no other way?”

“Not really,” Theo replied. “I could take a chance and clean it through the fabric, but there’s still the possibility of infection. Once I get it cleaned up and put in a few temporary stitches for now, we can wrap it so that Millard can heal it properly when he gets back tomorrow.”

Scarecrow shrugged, and started pulling off his trousers. Blood had already soaked down the leg to his ankle, and Theo could see from the rudimentary bandaging that Cless had apparently attempted a bit of field medicine himself.

“Knowing Millard, he’s probably burned himself out already, helping others,” the hunter said. He threw the bloodied garment over the back of the chair and sat down in his smalls.

“Well,” Theo said, “even if Millard isn’t able to heal it, the healing properties of these concoctions should accelerate your recovery time to a matter of days. You won’t be out of action for long.”

“That’s good to hear.” Scarecrow stuck his leg out to the side, where Theo could get better access to it. “I’m still cursing myself for not moving fast enough,” he griped. “At least it wasn’t a Ratkin.”

“Very true.” Theo concentrated on the injury for a moment. It was long, yes, but it was fairly shallow. The problem with it was that there were bits of broken twigs and brush in the wound. “I’ll need tweezers for this. One moment.”

As Theo went over to his satchel to fetch his other roll of medical implements, Viola pushed the door open. She briefly ducked back into the hallway and reappeared with a tray, upon which was a tureen, two bowls, some spoons, and two roughly cut chunks of crusty bread.

“For us?” Scarecrow said, watching as the thief crossed the floor to set the tray down on the sideboard. “What a treat.”

“A treat, you say?” Viola said, casting a glance at Scarecrow’s bare legs with one eyebrow raised.

Theo tried not to laugh, he really did.

Scarecrow let his forehead thump onto the tabletop, once, twice, three times, and Viola laughed lightly. “You’re welcome, boys.” she said. “Try not to avoid sleeping tonight.” And with that, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Her wrists seem better,” Theo murmured, tilting his head slightly in thought. She must have used some of that liniment whilst she was in the kitchen. Which means, her wrists were actually a bit more painful than she was letting on.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a problem Viola was having earlier.” He held up the tweezers and said, “Shall we get started, then? I need to remove the debris before I can disinfect it. Once this is done, I’ll clean it and apply a topical agent to numb the area for a bit. That way the stitches won’t hurt as much whilst I’m doing them,” Theo added.

He got to work. Picking bits of twig and assorted pieces of undergrowth from the wound was fairly simple, as most of them were large enough to see with the naked eye. For the others, he ended up just flushing them out with some purified water, catching it before it could spill onto the floor with a cloth near Scarecrow’s ankle.

After that, it was a simple matter of applying the antiseptic solution and the numbing agent. Scarecrow was always quiet, never really one to show his emotions on his face, but he didn’t say a word while Theo threaded his needle and got to work. It was a bit unnerving, really. Instead, the hunter was staring moodily into the flickering flame of the candle, his expression unreadable.

“Are you in any discomfort?” Theo asked softly, not looking up from his stitching.

Scarecrow didn’t say anything. Theo looked up at the other man, half expecting to find him asleep, but no: the hunter was still absorbed in looking at the flame. Just as Theo was about to sigh and begin the final stitch, Scarecrow spoke.

“The flame - or rather, the Flamebringer - has put us through a lot over the past few months,” he said tiredly. “There must be a point to it all.”

“I think Millard would be able to help you with that one better than I would,” Theo remarked, tying off the thread and snipping it with his scissors. Absent-mindedly he cleansed the needle, and put it away again. “There we go, all done. I’ll just wrap it up with some clean bandages, and you can put your trousers back on.”

“Thank you,” Scarecrow said, his tone thawing somewhat.

“It’s no problem at all,” Theo replied. He fished in his satchel until he found the roll of bandages and then started to wind them around the hunter’s thigh. He tucked the end in place, and then stood up, putting his hands on the small of his back and stretching. “There we go! The numbing agent should wear off in a couple of hours, so if it starts hurting I can give you some pain relief for it, but otherwise you should be good as new in a couple of days...”

“Assuming I rest. Got it,” Scarecrow said. He plucked the trousers from the back of the chair and looked at them critically. “Since you can sew and all, I don’t suppose you could mend these, too?”

“They would have to be washed first,” Theo grinned.

It seemed like a tiny thing, flickering onto his face and then vanishing, but Scarecrow smiled.

“I’ll do them myself. Thank you again, Theo,” he said.

“Would you like some food, before you turn in for the night?” Theo gestured to the soup that Viola had brought in. He curiously lifted the lid of the tureen and sniffed at the steam. Oddly enough, it wasn’t the soup that he and Fiore had worked on earlier, but a thick potato and leek pottage instead.

“Why not?” Scarecrow had redressed, and Theo could see he had put a separate cloth between his thigh and the material of the trousers, presumably to stop any still-wet blood from getting onto the bandages. Another thing I should have thought of, he thought to himself. Too late now. I really must be getting tired.

As Theo served up the soup, he told Scarecrow about what had happened whilst the hunter had been away. In turn, Scarecrow filled him in about the events in the caves he and Cless had visited. It had been a simple mistake, really: they had been attacked from behind whilst harvesting moss and Scarecrow hadn’t been able to get out of the way in time.

“At least we got the majority of the things you wanted,” Scarecrow said then, pointing his spoon towards the bag of supplies. “I’d hate for all that effort to be for naught.”

“I’m grateful. This should make things a lot easier for the town now, thanks to you and Cless,” Theo said. He tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it into the soup. It was the first thing he’d eaten since breakfast, and it tasted amazing.

“I still think the Flamebringer has been putting us into too much trouble lately.” Scarecrow’s comment could be borderline sacrilegious in a town like Emberglow, but Theo didn’t say anything, even if he did wear the Ring of Aelfric on his finger. “Bringing us all together like this, and then constantly putting us in danger. Surely I can’t be the only one thinking about what’s waiting for us at the end of this journey.”

Theo paused. “I have had thoughts like that myself, but… I never really had the time to dwell on them too much,” he admitted. A flake from the chunk of bread he was holding crumbled off and dropped into the bowl. “Our enemies - or rather, other Ringbearers - have been numerous and powerful, and we’ve been up to the task every time.”

“Not without frequent injuries, though,” Scarecrow pointed out.

“True, but that might be why Aelfric selected me and Millard,” Theo said. The soup was going down a bit too quickly, and he wondered if there was enough for a second portion. “Not to mention the other apothecaries and clerics who have thrown their lot in with us. Even Stead must have seen some good in our cause.”

“Stead is…” Scarecrow shook his head. “No, I’m not getting into that kind of a discussion right now,” he said wryly.

“I don’t blame you.” Theo mopped the last of the soup up with the last bit of bread. Where had all that gone?

“Getting back to the point, though… Why us? Why did Aelfric draw us all together? For this grand cause of His, or for some other reason?” Scarecrow idly tapped the inside of the bowl with his spoon. “Moreover, if He’d drawn us all together sooner, would things be any different? Could those who have been lost, prior to us all coming together, have been saved?”

“Only the gods could change the past, I think, and I’m not certain of that,” Theo mused. “Again, this is more Millard’s area of expertise. The one thing I do know is that, in bringing us all together, we’ve formed a better bond than just ‘members of the same band’. We’re more like a family.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Scarecrow muttered.

“Well, of course,” Theo replied. “Obviously, it will never replace a real family, nor is it supposed to.” He laughed, more at himself than anything. He was just an apothecary. “Whatever plans Aelfric may have for us, whatever plans the other Ringbearers may have for us, we are more than up to the task. No doubt there are some out there who would say that our hardships up to now were just to make us strong for this challenge.”

Scarecrow was silent. “I don’t like thinking like that, not really,” he said eventually. “I’m glad I’ve fallen in with capable companions, and even made some good friends, but I don’t want to dismiss my past struggles as just training. That’s not fair on those I… lost.”

The hunter had never divulged his past to the others, not yet, and this was the closest he’d ever come to confirming what some of them already felt. Theo pushed his empty bowl to one side, setting the spoon down and sweeping any crumbs to the edge of the table, and then catching them with his other hand. He dropped them into the bowl. “Nothing will ever replace a life lost,” he said then, keenly remembering the lessons he’d learned when someone he had been looking after had passed away. “Sometimes all you can do is let their memory give you strength.”

Neither man said anything after that. Scarecrow finished his soup in silence, and Theo didn’t know whether he’d helped the hunter or not. At least he’d been able to mend Scarecrow’s wounded leg.

The candle flickered again, the flame seeming to dance as if it were caught in a draught. Millard might have called it a sign, but the pragmatist in Theo just wondered if there had been something odd on the wick when the candle was made.

Finally, Scarecrow yawned, and got up. He didn’t really seem to be limping too badly, which was good. “I really should get some rest,” he said, picking up his bow. Before he left, though, he turned to Theo and said, "Thanks, Theo. Not just for the leg. For listening.”

As the door shut, Theo folded his arms on the tabletop and rested his cheek on them. What a day, he thought.

Chapter Text

Theo roused, feeling someone shaking his shoulder gently. It took a while for his memory to come back, but once it did he sat up abruptly, looking up into the concerned eyes of Alder.

“Alder? What’s wrong? Has something happened?” he said, relying on his training to just drop into professional mode even seconds after he’d awakened.

The innkeeper chuckled. “Easy, lad. We just got word that your friends are nearly home, that’s all. I just thought you’d want to meet them.”

“Oh! Then, thank you, Alder. I’ll be right there.” Theo said, getting to his feet even as the innkeeper took his leave. Judging by the fact that the soup tureen had gone and the shutters had been opened to let watery morning light inside, he had just fallen asleep at the table last night. That was a bit embarrassing.

Scratching at his head, Theo wandered over to the bag of mosses, minerals and other components that Scarecrow and Cless had retrieved for him the day before. That still needed processing, and he had yet to check in on Lynette and Gilderoy. He needed to see if Scarecrow’s leg was giving him any pain, too.

He picked up the bag and peered inside. These would benefit the town greatly, but he’d need help to make them into useful components. Perhaps Alder or Rosemary knew some townsfolk who might lend him a hand? He wondered if Telly and the other novices at the church would help, too.

Stifling a yawn and rubbing at a sore spot on his shoulder, he sighed. Mornings weren’t his favourite things in the world, but this one really hadn’t started well.

Well, perhaps the day would get better. Sofia was nearly back, and they had the majority of what they needed to make more medicines, so with any luck they could turn the tide of this nasty influenza soon.

With fresh resolve, Theo hastily put everything back in his satchel (had he really forgotten to tidy up after himself last night?), and hurried out of the common room. He did feel better for a bit of sleep, even if it had been in possibly the most uncomfortable position he’d ever slept in.

Either his friends were all still asleep, or they were already out and about, as Theo met no-one as he walked through the inn. In fact, it wasn’t until he walked past the front desk and out onto the street that he met anyone at all.

Miles and Felline were supporting Sofia, who appeared to be struggling to walk. She seemed glassy-eyed and feverish, but somehow still stubbornly on her feet. Behind them was the young Knight Ardante, Raudi, carrying what Theo assumed were the gathered medicinal plants in a large bag.

“Ah, just the person!” Miles said, as soon as he saw Theo. “I’m terribly sorry! We didn’t even know Sofia was ill until this morning. We left as soon as we could, and came straight back here.”

From her position on Sofia’s other side, Felline said, “We didn’t manage to get to the third cave after all, but Raudi has said the Knights Ardante will take care of it for us.”

Theo looked to the other Knight, who was still hanging back somewhat. “Is that so? Then, thank you, Raudi. That’s much appreciated.”

“After all you’ve done for us, we’re happy to help,” Raudi said, smiling shyly. “If you like, I can take these to Master Rodion and see if he can make a start on them,” she said, holding up the bag and giving it a slight wave. “Something tells me you might have a busy morning.”

“If you could, that would be wonderful, and thank you again. Oh! Actually, if you’re visiting Rodion, could you give these to him, too?” Theo inquired. “Our other gathering expedition came back last night, and they were successful as well.”

“I’d be happy to,” the Knight replied.

That done, Theo peered closely at Sofia, who seemed to register him for the first time and she tried to straighten, as if to stand by herself, but the others kept supporting her. “Welcome back, everyone,” he said. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised you were ill, Sofia,” he apologised. “I would not have sent you, otherwise.”

“Theo,” Sofia said, after a fashion. She looked pale, and there was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead and a rather worn out expression on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, too. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t realise I was ill, either.”

“Then shall we get you inside? I’m sure you will be feeling better soon,” Theo smiled, heading back to the entrance to hold the door open for them.

Since Theo was heading upstairs anyway, he offered to take Felline’s place and the two men helped to get Sofia up to the bedroom the women were sharing. Felline suddenly declared that she would help Raudi with delivering the supplies to Rodion, and Theo watched with hidden amusement as the two young women left the inn.

Fiore met Theo and Miles at the door and, whilst she was surprised to see Sofia feeling unwell, she kept her voice down as Lynette was asleep. The swordswoman held the door open so that Theo and Miles could bring Sofia in, but she chased them out so she could help the scholar get changed and into bed.

In the corridor outside, Miles laughed softly. “Sofia was very focused, whilst we were out there looking for herbs and such,” he said. “I’ve heard other people in the band talking about it, but to see it in action is something else.”

“It’s true,” Theo agreed, leaning against the wall. “Once Sofia starts working on a task, be it studying, gathering, or something else, it takes a lot to nudge her out of that focus. It’s mostly a good thing, but at times like this, well… you’ve seen the results today.”

Miles had just opened his mouth to reply, when the door opened again. Instead, he said, “I’ll let you get on. Let me know if you need me,” and he turned and went downstairs.

Fiore had got Sofia into her bed and dressed in a warm nightgown, and the scholar was sitting propped up against a couple of pillows. For the first time since they’d met, her hair was loose around her shoulders. Theo thought she looked like a completely different person.

“How’s Lynette?” Theo murmured to Fiore.

“She seemed a lot better first thing this morning,” Fiore replied, casting a look at the dancer. “No fever, and she slept through the night. She wasn’t coughing as much, either.”

“That’s good. I might need to revise my diagnosis a bit, then.” Theo was grateful that he’d left the medicines up here with Lynette, and more so that the table they were on was between the two women’s beds. “And how is your finger this morning? Any problems?”

“None at all!” Fiore whispered cheerfully. “No sign of this flu for me, either, so that’s good. Do you need my help with anything right now?”

Theo thought for a moment. “I might do later, but at the moment, I can’t think of anything.”

“In that case, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Fiore said. “Rosemary said she’d teach me some more recipes, so hopefully I’ll be adding to my repertoire. Who knows?” she grinned. “Maybe I’ll be as good as Trish one day!”

“It will make mealtimes so much more interesting when we’re out on the road,” Theo smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m an… adequate cook, but there’s a reason I don’t offer to make meals too much.”

“Aww, you’re not that bad,” Fiore bounced on her heels a little, and then turned to go. “Like I said, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she said, and then left the room.

Once again, I wish I had her energy, Theo thought, coming over to the side of Sofia’s bed. Especially this early in the morning.

It took a matter of moments for Theo to check how Sofia was. She obviously had exactly the same illness as Lynette, but the scholar had a high fever and her limbs were very sore. She seemed exhausted too, and Theo guiltily wondered if this was the reason for the little wobble in her handwriting, in the note she had sent back to the inn.

He sat on the edge of the bed, smiling gently at Sofia. “I wish I had your strength,” he said. At the confused little tilt of her head, he went on, "You were still gathering those plants and seeds whilst you were starting to get sick,” he explained. “You were able to put the needs of the townsfolk over your own.”

Sofia gripped the blankets, and weakly pulled them up to her chin. It was an oddly childish gesture, and Theo thought that Sofia wouldn’t usually be showing this side of her if not for the illness. “It’s nothing like that,” Sofia murmured, her voice soft. “I just lost track of time. I got carried away, and ended up ignoring my condition. I do that a lot,” she added, the last word trailing off into a delicate cough.

“Something tells me you aren’t the only one, though,” Theo said, reaching for one of the medicine bottles. He poured a small amount into a tiny measuring cup and passed it to the scholar. “I know I get distracted and neglect myself when things are busy, and Millard definitely does it.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we all do it.”

Sofia took the cup and drank it quickly. The taste didn’t even seem to bother her. She handed the cup back to him with a wan little smile. “You’re most likely right, but my distraction has led to worse situations than this in the past.” Her lower lip trembled a bit. “You would think I’d have learned by now.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Theo advised. He put the cup down and picked up another bottle. “At that point, you were most likely already feverish. Not thinking straight is a big part of that.”

“You’re very kind to say it, but I know my faults,” Sofia sighed. Then, in a tone that couldn’t even be counted as a whisper, she added, “At least it didn’t get anyone killed this time.”

Theo barely heard her, but he wasn’t about to ask her to repeat it. They knew about her past, and her friend who had been lost, but he wasn’t about to further upset the scholar by bringing the matter up again. Instead, he feigned ignorance and pretended he didn’t hear. He picked up the bottle of fever reducing agent and poured a small measure of it into the cup, passing it to her.

“This should help bring your fever down, and it should make your thoughts a little clearer, too,” he said, watching sympathetically as she sipped at it. At least this was simpler than sewing up Scarecrow’s leg. He hadn’t seen the hunter this morning, and hoped the man was resting. He doubted it, though.

He had to check on Gilderoy, too. The fact that all was quiet in the room next door was a good sign, though.

“I’m sorry,” Sofia said again.

Theo looked at her, and she had pulled the blanket up even further, so it was half covering her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I tend to get a bit childish when I’m sick,” she explained. A slight blush appeared on her pale cheeks, and it seemed it was nothing to do with the fever. “I’m the oldest sister, so I was the one always looking after the others. Mother was frequently busy, and my sisters tried their best, but when I was sick there was no-one to look after me…”

Theo understood. “Then how about this?” he offered cheerfully. “I’ll stay and keep you company as much as I can, and when I can’t, I’m sure one of the others will be more than happy to sit with you. I know Fiore will, when she’s finished in the kitchen. I can even read to you, if you like.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that!” Sofia seemed flustered, but she recovered a little and tilted her head to one side. “Wait a moment, what is Fiore doing in the kitchen?”

“It seems our warrior has discovered a love of cooking.” Theo’s tone was amused. “And don’t worry about us. We all want to help, even Scarecrow. Don’t let his grumpiness fool you!”

Sofia laughed, and Theo knew the scholar would be all right. He was about to go into detail about Fiore’s exploit in the kitchen yesterday, but there was a quiet knock at the door. He frowned. Surely it wouldn't be Alder, not at this time?

“One moment,” he said to Sofia, then got up and crossed the carpeted floorboards to the door. “Who is it?” he called, wincing as he looked over his shoulder and hoping he hadn’t woken Lynette.

”It’s Rodion,” the voice replied. ”I’ve come to return something to you.”

Return something? Had there been a problem with the supplies that Sofia and the others had brought back? Curiously, he opened the door, and there was Fiore, standing next to the other apothecary. Rodion looked a bit careworn but otherwise seemed all right.

However, on his back was an unconscious Millard.

Chapter Text

“Sorry to disturb you, Theo, but it was kind of urgent,” Fiore said.

“So I see,” Theo replied, scratching his head. Was it possible to be both surprised and unsurprised at the same time? “Hello again, Rodion,” he said. “I see you’re returning our cleric to us. Is Millard all right?”

The older apothecary sighed, but he didn’t seem too upset by the turn of events. In fact, there was a small smile on his face. “I’ll explain when we’ve got him into bed,” he said softly. “Suffice it to say, he’s had a long day. Then again, haven’t we all?”

“Indeed,” Theo agreed. “Can you give me a moment to just finish up here? The bedroom we’re sharing is next door,” and he pointed to his right, “that way. Gilderoy and Scarecrow should be resting in there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if our hunter’s already up and about. Millard’s bed was by the window.”

“Thank you,” Rodion replied. He shifted slightly, settling the cleric into a more comfortable position, and then took his leave. Fiore watched them go, arms crossed over her chest.

“Do you want me to give them a hand?” she asked.

Theo picked up his satchel, although he had a feeling that Rodion would have done all the diagnostic work himself already. “Actually, no,” he said, an idea forming in his head. He turned to Sofia, who had been watching the exchange quietly with a slightly puzzled look on her face. “Sofia, would you mind if I stepped out for a little while? I know I just made you that offer, but the situation has changed a bit.”

For all the scholar was feverish and a bit slow to react, she completely understood, and shook her head. “I don’t mind at all. I’ll be fine by myself,” she said, although her tone was a little regretful. Truly, she seemed to act a little more childishly when she was under the weather.

Theo took her hands. “Ah, but you won’t be by yourself. Fiore, are you too busy in the kitchen to help me out a bit?”

“Me? No, actually, I’m not busy at all, not now, anyway,” the swordswoman replied. “When Rodion came, Alder said he’d help out in the kitchen. Rosemary said I could talk to her for lessons any time, though, so that’s good! But otherwise, I’m not doing anything.”

“Then how about this? Could you keep Sofia company for a while?” he asked. “Sofia was the oldest, so she was always taking care of everyone else. I said we should be the ones to take care of her for a while, while she’s ill. Since I’ll be needed next door, would you sit with her?”

“Leave it to me!” Fiore said, somehow both being exuberant and managing to keep her voice down for Lynette, who still slept in the next bed. “What shall we talk about, Sofia? I can tell you about my afternoon yesterday, if you like, or about the soup I made. Or you could tell me about your night, sheltering out in the Emberglow Wilds. Somehow I've never camped out in the snow before!”

As Fiore was chattering away, Sofia shot Theo a grateful look. “Thank you,” she said, when Fiore had paused for breath.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Theo promised, meaning every word. He nodded to the two women, and quietly left the room. Fiore had started talking softly again even before the door had fully closed.

It took all of five paces to get to their other bedroom, and Theo saw the door had been left open. As he stepped in, he noticed that Scarecrow had indeed already left, but Gilderoy was sitting up in bed, watching concernedly as Rodion bustled around their fallen cleric. The other apothecary had already stripped Millard of his cloak and outer vestments and put him to bed in just the looser robes he wore underneath.

“Good morning, Gilderoy,” Theo said, putting his satchel down on the bed he’d only nominally been using since they arrived in Emberglow. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, thanks. Better than our cleric looks, at least,” the jeweller replied, although his voice was still sounding a little nasal. There was more stubble on his chin than usual and he still looked tired, but otherwise he seemed much improved.

“Indeed. Do you need me to get you anything? Some more medicine?” Theo asked, looking around the room. Scarecrow’s bed did seem to have been slept in, so that was something.

Gilderoy shook his head. “Not right now, I’m fine. And if yer looking for Scarecrow, he’s down in the baths, gettin’ clean. He said he’s had stitches before, so he knows not to get ‘em wet.”

“That’s a relief!” Theo was grateful for Scarecrow’s self-reliance. “Everyone else is doing well, so that just leaves Millard. What happened to him, Rodion?” he asked the other apothecary.

Rodion straightened up, kneading the small of his back and wincing. “To put it bluntly, he overdid it,” he said. His mouth was set in a disapproving line, but with a sigh it changed into a weary frown instead. “Well, the situation called for it, to be quite honest with you. There was an accident late last evening, and he stayed with me to make sure the patient had the best chances of survival.”

Theo nodded. Viola had mentioned something like that last night. “I take it that things did not go so well?”

“You could say that.” Rodion’s frown had turned into an outright grimace now. “It was a woodcutting accident. Part of a tree he was cutting fell on him, and his right leg and hip was crushed. Sadly, though, the man took a turn for the worse in the early hours of this morning. He was bleeding somewhere inside, and both Millard and myself gave our all to try and save him, but… it was not enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Theo said simply.

“It happens,” Rodion sighed. “We both accepted that fact last night, that sometimes you cannot save a person. However, after that, Millard seemed determined to help me with the man’s family, but he just keeled over. I checked him over: nothing is wrong, just exhaustion and mana fatigue, and I brought him straight here this morning. He hasn’t roused since, though.”

What a story, and so completely in character for Millard. Theo looked down sympathetically at the sleeping man. A man of the cloth should understand the fragility of life, so he wasn’t worried about that aspect of the situation, but…

“I would guess that your diagnosis is to just let him sleep himself out, then?” Theo asked. “Maybe a tonic or two when he has awakened?”

Rodion nodded. “Tell him he doesn’t owe me anything,” the other apothecary said. “I will explain everything to the poor man’s family, and if Millard wants to visit when he’s recovered, he is more than welcome. Even if our paths weren’t tied together by the Band, I would still welcome his help as a healer any time.”

“I’ll tell him. Thank you, Rodion,” Theo smiled. “Were the other ingredients we brought back of any use?” he asked then, remembering about the two gathering expeditions.

“They were,” Rodion nodded. “We’ve made a good start, but we estimate that we should have more than enough medicine for everyone now, rather than those just in dire need. This will definitely help to turn the tide against this influenza.”

Theo let out a gusty sigh. “That’s a relief! Well, then, as soon as I’ve finished up here, I’ll come and visit you myself. Perhaps there’s still a few things left for me to do.”

“You should probably just make sure you don’t end up like Millard here,” Rodion said mildly, gathering up his belongings with a smile. “I’ll see myself out, but thank you again for your help.”

Theo watched him go. It finally sounded like the town’s nightmarish situation was ending. Perhaps when they moved on from Emberglow, perhaps it was time to have a break for a few days. They had earned that much. The gods knew how tired he felt.

Wearily drawing up a chair next to Millard’s bed, Theo sat and waited for the cleric to wake up.

Chapter Text

After it seemed that Millard would not be waking up any time soon, Theo popped to the other bedroom to visit Sofia. The scholar was asleep, taking a much needed rest, but Fiore had stayed with her. Lynette had wrapped herself up in her big tasselled shawl and was sitting on the end of her bed, talking softly with the swordswoman. Everything was fine, they said. Viola had even been back for a spell whilst on an errand helping Shelby, but had returned as quickly as ever. Reassured that everything was fine by the two women, he went back to his perch by Millard’s bed.

Scarecrow came back a couple of times, too, but never for long. The hunter could never sit still, it seemed. Gilderoy was happy to just sit in bed, reorganising his pack and checking his ledger. The merchant’s occasional chatter was just enough to stop Theo from dozing off, too.

And still, Millard continued to sleep.

Rodion’s words had been comforting, though. Now that they had enough medicine, it seemed that the town would soon be recovering from the nasty virus that had laid so many low. Even the sun was shining, spilling in through the windows and casting away the shadows.

Theo even felt a bit warm. He reached up and loosened the neck of his tunic, wondering when the room had heated up that much. No matter, he thought, shifting in his seat. His muscles were a bit sore from where he’d been leaning against the slatted wooden back of the chair. It’s just nice to see the sun, after so long. I guess even Emberglow has sunny days once in a while.

The bed creaked behind him, and he turned to see Gilderoy swinging his legs around to get up. The jeweller really did look a lot better. “Hope ya don’t mind, but I’ve got to let the liquid out, if ya know what I mean. Might take the time to freshen up, too. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’m just glad you’re moving about better,” Theo smiled.

“Much better,” Gilderoy grinned as he left the room.

The bathroom was only a few steps down the corridor, so Theo wasn’t worried. He rolled one shoulder up and down, and then the other, idly wondering if a bath would help him as it had Gilderoy. The tension had certainly set into his muscles, if the soreness was anything to go by. Or perhaps it was just a night sleeping upright in an uncomfortable chair.

He was just pondering the right kind of treatment for his own sore muscles when he had a tiny groan from Millard. He sat forward, ignoring the growing ache and waiting for more signs that the cleric was finally rousing.

Theo watched as Millard’s eyes finally fluttered open. As more awareness returned to the cleric, his eyes narrowed slightly, and then widened a bit in confusion. He weakly turned his head to the side and saw Theo for the first time.

“Theo,” Millard said, his voice sounding very dry. “What happened?”

“You collapsed late last night, by all accounts.” Theo replied, getting up and pouring a glass of water for the other man, who took it gratefully. Millard held the glass between his hands, looking down, and Theo rather thought his memories of the day before had come back all at once.

“Did Rodion bring me back here?” Millard asked. When Theo nodded, the cleric let out a gusty sigh. “I need to both thank him and apologise to him, then.”

“Rodion said that you didn’t owe him anything, and that he will take care of the rest. He was grateful for your help,” Theo said.

“Well, that is good, but I will still thank him anyway,” Millard said stubbornly. He must have realised he was gripping the glass a bit too tightly, as he suddenly passed it back to Theo. “I hope I did not burden him too much. Truly, I did not mean to overwork myself, whatever Viola might say. Sometimes you just have to carry on, regardless of how you are feeling, to try and save a life.

This is the first time I have been directly involved in such an attempt, though.”

That made sense. For all Millard was an itinerant cleric, he was still young, and his expertise in healing people was probably limited to broken bones and cuts, no matter how deep. For the bigger injuries, the proper life threatening ones, he likely would not have been involved unless one happened right in front of him.

And fortunately, none had happened whilst he’d been a member of the band.

Theo sat down again, still feeling a bit too warm. Was the weather really so different today? The very appearance of the sun must make everything feel different, he guessed, again shifting the fabric at his throat.

“I can see why you would feel bad about this,” Theo said, looking seriously at him. “Losing a patient is never an easy thing to endure, especially under such circumstances.”

“It was a bit more than that.” Millard looked at the window, his eyes fixed on the watery blue sky. An errant breeze stirred the curtains slightly. “I did not get the chance to send him on his way with a prayer. I do not want him to feel like he left this life alone, with no-one to help his spirit to rest.”

So that was it. Millard was still so idealistic, still wanting to comfort even the departed man’s soul with a prayer, that he was feeling so remorseful about passing out from exhaustion. We have a lot of similarities, Theo mused, and yet we are still so very different.

“I am sure he took comfort even from your very presence, Millard,” Theo said, leaning forwards slightly. “After all, not many people have a cleric to heal them at all, let alone one who stayed with them until the end. I am sure that any bishop in the land would say that your presence near him was meant to be.”

“How can you arrive at such a conclusion?” Millard wondered.

“You’ve just woken up, so I don’t blame you for missing it, but…” Theo held up his hand, showing the Ring of Aelfric gleaming on his finger. “The Flamebringer brought us together and set us on this path. Therefore you could surmise that He wanted you to be in this place, to give comfort to the poor man in his final moments. Comfort comes in many forms.”

Millard hung his head, placing his fingers flat against the bed linens. “You are right. I did miss that, and I am surprised at myself. Usually, I would be the one saying something like that,” he said ruefully.

“We are all tired, especially after all these events, so it’s not surprising. Don’t blame yourself!” Theo laughed. He was still tired and aching after the events of last night, too, so he could speak from experience. They all could.

Was he feeling a bit more tired than usual, though? Was he developing a headache, too? That was something to watch out for. Perhaps he should have more of a rest when he had finished helping Millard.

“Besides,” Theo went on, ignoring the feeling for now, “Rodion says that the town might be over the worst of this outbreak. Things can finally get back to normal!”

“Oh, really? That’s excellent news!” Gilderoy’s voice said from the doorway. Evidently he had finished in the bathroom and had washed himself up a bit, since his usually tied-back hair was loose around his face, not to mention damp and curling slightly at the tips.

“Indeed, that is good news. I thank the Flamebringer we were able to help in some small way,” Millard agreed. He turned to Theo, but the apothecary was surprised to see fresh concern in the youthful cleric’s eyes. What had happened now?

Theo stood up, worried that something else was troubling the man, but the moment he did so, a wave of dizziness washed over him. He clutched at the chair to steady himself but somehow missed, and found himself falling.

Even as his vision went dark, he felt a pair of strong arms catch him, stopping him from hitting the floor.

After that, his senses faded away.

Chapter Text

The first time Theo roused, he was far too hot. His face and hair were wet, he could tell that much, but for some reason he couldn’t move his arms to do anything about it. Why was it so warm when they were in Emberglow? It was called the Frostlands for a reason, wasn't it?

Someone with a familiar voice said something soft and comforting, and then something blessedly cool was placed on his forehead. It felt amazing, and he tried to say as much, but the words wouldn’t form properly.

Whoever was with him must have understood his intentions, because they let out a soft, tinkling burst of familiar laughter. Lynette? he wondered feverishly, again trying to move his head. He felt another cloth sweeping down his cheek, one side, then the other, and then a cheeky little swipe across his nose.

“Finally back with us, are you?” With a little more focus, he could tell that that was definitely Lynette’s voice. She sounded tired, but a lot better. It sounded like she’d finally beaten off the flu, too.

He tried to speak, to ask what was going on, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t obey him, and even if it could, he felt too tired.

“You know, we’ve all been here, day and night, sitting with you whilst you were delirious,” she went on. He heard the sound of something being dipped into water and then wrung out again, and felt the coolness of the cloth as it was wiped against his neck and collarbones. Wait, had Lynette said he was delirious?

Oh, he thought. Oh, no. I must have caught that influenza, too.

His thoughts wouldn’t work properly as he tried to recall what had happened. He must be lucid right now, but that would change at any minute. How could I let this happen? he worried.

Beside him, Lynette had started to sing. It was a lovely little tune, something he would later remember as a Cliftlands lullaby, soft and soothing, and each note lulled him closer and closer to sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The next time Theo roused, he still felt too hot, but his throat was painfully scratchy and sore, too. His thoughts weren’t mired in heat and confusion as much this time, which was a blessing, and he was able to turn his head to see where he was.

Even though it was dark, he recognised the curtains from the bedroom they were sharing, and the light from a single candle allowed him to see a figure sitting next to the bed. It wasn’t Lynette, though. The dancer must have gone to sleep in the other bedroom. At first he thought it was Millard or Scarecrow, because of the short hair, but when his thoughts further cleared, he realised it was Fiore.

“Hello, Fiore,” he said, or tried to, but something caught in his throat and he burst out coughing instead. As he recovered and gradually got his breath back, he noticed that someone had moved him, and was holding him upright. Moreover, he found it was remarkably easier to breathe.

“You worried us all sick, you know that?” Fiore said, her voice as soft as he’d ever heard it, but fierce nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to croak out. “I didn’t mean to…”

Fiore sighed, and passed him a glass of water, which he took with shaky hands. “Of course not,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “No-one ever means to get ill.”

The swordswoman was sitting by the bed, in the same chair that Lynette had been occupying, so who was holding him up? With the glass still clutched in his hands, he turned his head to see Gilderoy sitting on his other side, one arm around Theo’s shoulders, supporting him.

“Gilderoy? How are you feeling?” Theo asked.

The jeweller reached out with his other hand and guided the glass towards Theo’s mouth. “You should stop apothecaryin', if that's even a word. Take a drink first,” he advised, gently supporting the bottom of the glass as the apothecary drank. “That’s it. Anyways, I’m doin’ much better. Haven’t felt bad for a couple of days now, so I’m well an’ truly on the mend.”

A couple of days? Had Theo really lost a couple of days to delirium and fever and sickness? That was worrying. He didn’t say anything as Fiore took the glass from him, nor did he say anything as Gilderoy suggested he should take some of his own medicines. Indeed, when they were offered to him, he took them without complaint.

“He seems a bit shocked,” Fiore observed.

That’s an understatement, Theo thought. His body was getting tired again, and whilst he wanted to think about what had happened a bit more, he found that he couldn’t.

Seemingly knowing that Theo was lapsing towards sleep again, Fiore reached behind him and turned the pillow around, and then added another before Gilderoy lowered him back down again. Propped up by the pillows, Theo definitely found it easier to breathe, and he managed to thank them both before slumber dragged him down again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He awoke the next time to gentle fingers ruffling his hair. He opened his eyes to find that it was light in the bedroom again, and he groaned at the fact that he was losing so much time to the illness.

The fingers in his hair stilled, and then someone chuckled, a low, heartfelt little laugh. Viola leaned forwards into his field of vision, an enigmatic smile on her face. “Good morning, sleepy,” she said, her tone light.

“I hate mornings,” Theo grumbled. He worried for a moment that the flu was making him too honest, too tactless, but a fresh wave of coughing started up again the minute he opened his mouth to yawn. There was a sharp pain in his side, and he hoped he’d only pulled a muscle or something.

“Easy, now,” Viola said, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. He hated the way his eyes were watering, and how weak he felt. His grandmother had always said he made for a bad patient. It was a fact he knew all too well himself.

“Just this once,” Viola said, when he’d finished coughing, “allow yourself to feel bad. Allow yourself to worry, to be upset. To be contrary or childish. It’s perfectly normal, and I’m pretty sure it’s part of the healing process, too.”

“That sounds suspiciously like advice I may have given to you, at some point,” Theo pointed out, a tired little grin on his face.

Viola laughed again. “It may well be. It may have been someone else. It’s good advice, nonetheless,” she said easily. “Now, whilst you’re feeling so agreeable, would you care for some more medicine?” she drawled, holding up a bottle and the small cup he used to measure it out with.

Just this once, eh? Just this once, he allowed it. “Not really,” he said flatly. “I know what goes into it, and I still haven’t been able to improve the taste.”

“Spoken like a true little brother,” Viola grinned, pouring out medicine even as she spoke.

Theo accepted the cup and drank it down, not bothering to hide the expression on his face. He was starting to feel better, though. Ever since his fever had broken, he had been feeling a lot better every time he woke up.

“Now, rest,” Viola said, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms. She looked for all the world like a guardian, or a jailer, trying to make sure he did as he was told. Well, it wasn’t as if he could do aught else right now.

He dozed off again, listening to Viola tapping out a rhythm on the edge of the chair with her fingernails. It might not have had the same lilting tones as Lynette’s lullaby, but it was just as soothing to him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Judging by the darkness in the room when he awoke the next time, and by the candle casting a warm glow by the bedside, Theo realised he must have slept for quite a while again. He felt a bit lighter, like he was finally on the mend, proving himself right when he turned his head to see who was sitting with him this time, and finding that there was no pain.

He was feeling in a much better mood, too. Viola had been right. Catharsis, he supposed.

“Everyone said you were getting better, but it’s good to see it with my own eyes,” Scarecrow said. His words were unusually sentimental, and Theo found himself feeling comforted by words from such a usually taciturn man.

“I’m sorry to have worried you all,” Theo replied, and for the first time in a while, it did not hurt to speak. That was a wonder in itself.

Scarecrow shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He looked like he was about to say something else, and then stopped himself. “No,” he murmured. Louder, he said, “Is there anything you need? You haven’t really eaten much. Rodion checked you over himself, and gave you the first doses of medicine, but other than that, what do you need?”

Of course Scarecrow would be sensitive to the nature of illness taking away a person’s independence. It was perhaps good timing then, that Theo felt a particularly pressing need. If anyone would understand, it would be Scarecrow.

“I’ll have something to eat in the morning, if I can, but right now, could I ask you a favour?” Just thinking about what must have happened whilst he was delirious was embarrassing, but he went on anyway. “I haven’t left this bed since I woke up, and… I need to use the bathroom. I don’t know how strong my legs are feeling right now, but I don’t want to just use the pan.”

“Sure. I can understand that. Here.” Scarecrow stood and helped Theo get out of bed first, and then to stand. When he was certain that he wouldn’t fall over, Scarecrow looped an arm around Theo’s waist and supported him as they made their way down the corridor to the necessary.

Oddly, Theo didn’t feel embarrassed by Scarecrow’s help. He said nothing when Theo winced as he moved, the pulled muscle twinging as he walked. The hunter simply waited outside whilst Theo relieved himself, and then the two wordlessly made their way back to the room. Once back in bed, Theo thanked the other man for his assistance.

“You know,” Scarecrow said then, retaking his seat by the bed. “I can see why you became an apothecary. Family business notwithstanding,” he added.

“Oh? Why is that?” Theo wondered. The feeling of warmth from his bed was making him drowsy again, and he hated that he still tired so easily.

“It feels good to help someone recover,” Scarecrow replied. “The ability to save a life is a powerful thing indeed.”

Theo meant to reply, he really did, but his treacherous eyes closed on their own and he fell asleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He was getting used to waking up with one of his friends by the bedside. It was reassuring, although it was a bit odd to see that he was the only one awake. More so since the curtains were open again and it was daytime. A little cloudier than usual, but daytime nonetheless.

Apparently Sofia had been sitting in the usual chair, but had left that at some point to sit on the floor instead, now fast asleep leaning on the edge of the bed. Her sketchbook was open on the carpet next to her, allowing Theo to see somewhat embarrassing sketches of himself asleep. It wasn’t just him, though: there were little sketches of the others, too, amidst the drawings of local flora and fauna.

“Please, forgive her,” Millard’s gentle voice said. Theo started a bit. He hadn’t even realised the cleric was there. “She could not sleep last night and asked if she could stay here, in case you needed anything. It was… hard to refuse her,” he smiled.

“I can imagine,” Theo replied. He winced as he sat up, pushing himself back against the pillows and feeling his ribs. He still didn’t think anything was broken, but…

“How do you feel?” Millard asked then.

“Better. Much better,” Theo said, and he meant it. “I think I pulled a muscle coughing, but otherwise I’m doing well.”

Millard shook his head, but he was still smiling. “As are we all,” he said, coming over to stand next to him. He leaned down and held his hand over Theo’s side, and Theo felt a warm light emanate from Millard’s palm. He would never get used to clerical healing, he reflected, but he couldn’t deny it felt good. It was good to be without the pain in his ribs, too.

“Thank you, Millard,” Theo said genuinely, before trying an experimental deep breath. No pain, and no shortness of breath from the flu, either. A day or two more of rest, and he’d be able to clear himself to get up and about. “Am I to assume that I was the last of the badly affected sufferers of this wretched virus?” he asked wryly.

“You were indeed,” Millard said. He took a seat on the chair that Sofia had vacated, and sighed. “There have been no more cases, and the town is doing well. I suspect you only got ill because you wore yourself out too much.”

“You’re probably right,” Theo agreed, “but, it’s more or less the same as what happened to you,” he added with a grin.

The cleric smiled. “And I would wager, if I were a betting man, that you do not regret it, either.”

Theo shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “I still hate being ill, though.”

“Theo!” Sofia said, suddenly sitting up on the floor and looking directly at him. “It’s so good to see you back to normal,” she said. "Well,' she amended, after a look at him, "nearly back to normal."

“Thank you, Sofia,”

The scholar picked up her sketchbook and got up, dusting off her skirts to sit on the edge of the bed. “I guess that Millard has already said about how glad we are to see you feeling better?” she asked.

Theo nodded.

“That’s good,” she said. “And at least now, I can return the favour. I’ll sit with you, just like you said to me earlier, when I was ill.”

“But… I never got the chance to.” Theo had meant to, he really had, but the sickness had overtaken him before he could.

Sofia patted his hand, smiling that placid smile of hers. “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “What matters is that you had meant to, and you offered. That meant the world to me. Rodion says you should be resting for another couple of days yet, and that can be boring, so please, allow me to keep you company for a while.”

“I’d like that,” Theo replied.

Chapter Text

Theo took a deep breath. The air around the Theatropolis Plains was always fresh, but this time there was no hint of the frost that had nipped at his lungs before. The winter was finally relenting, made all the more apparent when they crossed into the Flatlands.

He stopped, looking up at the sky, at the white clouds dotted faintly around the high heavens. It would be a lovely day for travelling. They had not yet decided on a new destination, preferring to decide as they walked. There was no pressing business, at least: whatever the owners of the various Rings were planning was not immediately obvious, so they could only wait for information about that to come to light.

In short, they had some free time. Finally!

“I still think we should go somewhere warm,” Fiore was saying. She had turned to face the group, walking a few steps backwards before stopping, her arms outstretched. “We’ve just been through a lot of stress! I think we deserve a little holiday.”

“I think we all agree on that one,” Millard said kindly. Theo definitely agreed.

“Indeed, but the question is where?” This from Sofia, who had only just looked up from her sketchbook.

One of these days, Theo thought he should ask her about the drawings of their little band in that book. He found he didn’t mind, though. Should she ever want to take a break from being a scholar, she might find herself doing well as an illustrator.

“I say we take a trip back to the Riverlands,” Gilderoy suggested. At Fiore’s groan, he went on. “Now, hear me out. I’m not sayin’ to go back there for business. Just that the river’s a nice place to just put yer feet up and do some fishin’ or restin’. There’s a lot of different flowers to look at, too,” he said, looking in Sofia’s direction with a big grin on his face.

“That does sound good,” Sofia inevitably said.

Fiore rolled her eyes. “But it’s a bit quiet there, isn’t it? I’d like to go somewhere lively, where there’s some music! Sunshade might be nice to visit, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” Scarecrow said suddenly. “Quiet sounds nice to me.”

“You would say that,” Fiore laughed.

“Please tell me you don’t want to see another play?” the hunter groaned. Their time in Theatropolis in Auguste’s theatre still seemed fresh in Scarecrow’s mind.

Fiore stuck her tongue out at him.

“If you like, I can show you the really good places in Sunshade,” Viola said with a wink.

Millard held up his hands placatingly. “Why don’t we head to Cragspear?” he said. When everyone turned to face him, poorly concealed questions on their faces, he went on, “I know we have had our issues in Cragspear, but it is ideal, when you think about it. It is a short distance to both the Riverlands and the Sunlands. We have time. We could visit both.”

Leave it to Millard to be the voice of reason, Theo thought gratefully.

Lynette clapped her hands together, and then twirled on the spot, her skirts flying out. “That sounds amazing! I can visit my troupe as well… maybe we can put on a show! How does that sound, Fiore?” She went over to the other woman and took her hands, then danced her round in a circle. “All the music and fashion and dancing you could dream of!”

“That sounds really good, Lynette!” Fiore said, giggling somewhat as they continued to dance. Scarecrow put his hand over his eyes and shook his head, but there was a grin on his face. Gilderoy was laughing openly, too, as was Sofia. Even Millard was smiling happily.

“What do you say?” Viola asked Theo, leaning against his shoulder. “You’re the only one who hasn’t spoken yet. Do you have an opinion on where we should go for our little break?”

Theo smiled. “Cragspear sounds good to me,” he said. He shifted his shoulders, settling his satchel and patting it fondly. “And hopefully we won’t have a need for this, this time.”

Viola eyed the Ring of Aelfric on Theo’s finger. “I’m sure the Flamebringer will let us have this little holiday, just this once,” she said lightly.

Theo laughed nervously. “I certainly hope so,” he said.