A Million Roads to Nowhere

Wolf By the Ears

Patrick trusts Aodhan, even if a lot of others don't. He doesn't have much left in him to be worried, so he lays on the table in a bit of a daze until William comes back in, at which he looks over.

"I got the string," he informs.

"Good. Cast a restoration spell on Signe and then make some tea, something with healing properties."

William nods, fingers glowing pale orange as he murmurs a spell and gently touches Signe's forehead. The effect is immediate. Signe visibly brightens and she straightens up. She looks less like she's about to pass out.

Aodhan dips a spoon into one of the jars and takes out some of the black, thick sludge inside. He places it on Patrick's tongue and tells him not to swallow it until he's done. Patrick doesn't swallow it, though he very much wants to spit it out, as it tastes just as horrible as whatever Tove gave him earlier.

Aodhan places crystals either side Patrick's head and one on his chest, adding others to areas Patrick can't see from his position. He begins tying the green string William brought around Patrick's fingers and wrists, muttering incantations under his breath which have his brown eyes glowing more and more green with each word.

He starts undoing the stitches on his front side, still whispering, eyes and hands swathed in magic. Patrick's body starts to tense reflexively and his chest area begins to clench painfully. Aodhan removes all the stitches and heals the wound, then places his hand on Patrick's chest.

The moment his hand touches the spot over his heart, Patrick feels like screaming. Aodhan starts speaking in a language that he can't understand, but is familiar and unnerving. Patrick sucks in a breath as pain courses through every inch of his body. Aodhan's hand glows brilliantly and his eyes are solid green. It feels like the whole tent is shaking, but maybe it's just Patrick- his body, his head.

Green light burns into him and it hurts, but he can't move, he can't speak, he can't even think- it hurts- it feels like he's being ripped apart- is he dying- he's dying- he's---

Then, warmth.

Warmth floods him so suddenly, so needed. Patrick didn't know he was so cold, but now that he's warm, he never wants to be cold again. He gasps, sucking in a breath that is just a bit easier to take. Aodhan's hand stops glowing and his eyes fade back into brown. He stops speaking in that language (Patrick remembers now, he remembers everything- he remembers- he remembers) and gently brushes Patrick's hair away from his forehead.

Strangely, all the pain is gone, and all is left is bone deep exhaustion. Patrick feels like he can't move, but then Aodhan is nudging, helping him sit up and pressing a cup of warm drink into his hands. Patrick's hands shake a bit and he has to grip onto the cup to keep them from trembling.

"What did you do?" William whispers, looking equal parts in awe and horrified.

"Bound his soul to his body," Aodhan answers, sounding completely unfazed, though he does look tired.

Being tied together sure feels a lot like being torn apart, Patrick thinks wearily, taking a sip of tea, which takes exactly like dirt with a hint of honey.

"Thank you," Patrick croaks.

A small smile graces Aodhan's face and he runs a hand through Patrick's hair, movements gentle, as if to recompense for the earlier pain. "Of course," he says simply.

Aodhan goes to fuss over Signe, checking her over both magically and medically. William comes to sit by Patrick and cautiously grabs his hand. The action is grounding and Patrick squeezes William's hand. William pulls away, smiling a little.