Oskar crouched, much more easily now that his ribs had been healed, and began plating up the food. It had cooled significantly, though it hadn’t lost all of its heat. Marent moved over to stand behind Amnestria and pulled her hood back, examining her scalp briefly. He gently pushed through the matted tangles of blood caked hair before stepping over to Rando.

“Ye took a potion t’ stop the bleedin’ lass?” At Ness’s nod, he continued, kneeling down on one knee and reaching out for Rando’s arm. “Aye, weel, ye’ve got some wee splinters lodged under the skin. Once you can wash the blood away and straighten out that rat’s nest, I’ll see what I can do about removing ‘em. An’ that scar. You and Oskar’s refusal to wear helmets-”

“Scar?” Amnestria yelped as she clapped her hand to the top of her head, wincing at the sharp prick from the embedded splinters. She prodded, feeling several large masses under the skin. “‘Wee’, he says. What scar? How bad is it? Surely it’ll be covered by the hair-”

“Aye, wee. They’re none so bad lass. As I was sayin’, if ye’d only been wearin’ a helmet, you wouldna ha’ come t’ such a state.” Oskar studiously kept his gaze averted – he could feel Marent’s disapproving eyes on him – and stepped over to Amnestria. He handed her plate over and peered down at her scalp.

“Gi’ me a look now.” He removed Ness’s hand and poked through the hair gingerly, taking a closer look. A splintered branch had apparently stabbed straight at her head. She’d barely ducked, and it had skimmed the top of her skull, laying her scalp open to the bone. He’d watched as she downed the potion, holding the flesh together with one hand so the wound could close. It was fairly ugly, but he had faith in Marent’s skills. “Dinna worry lass, it’s not bad. He can handle it.”

Marent, meanwhile, had stripped the sling from Rando’s shoulders, and held the arm out, braced against his bent knee. He seemed to be concentrating on something only he could see, staring past the broken arm and feeling up and down the splinted length. He held the arm at two spots, turning it slightly. Rando took a sudden deep breath, his face going white, though he didn’t complain. Oskar supposed Marent was realigning the bone more accurately. Perhaps it had shifted from the careful position Marent had left it in last night.

As Marent worked with Rando, Oskar finished filling the rest of the plates, and set them down on rocks close to the fire to keep warm. He poured more tea for himself, and filled a cup for Marent as well. The whispered words, and blue pulse of light from the side, indicated that Marent was finishing with Rando, and Oskar held the cup of tea out for him. Marent took the plate and cup, settling down next to Oskar.

“Thank you, Ser Marent.” Rando flexed his arm briefly before taking up a plate. Amnestria had set her plate down and was still picking at her head. Rando passed the plate he had just taken to her. “Amnestria dear, eat before it freezes to the plate. We’ll settle your wound after breakfast – the splinters must come out before you receive any more healing. You’re in no pain at the moment?”

Oskar narrowed his eyes as they all began to eat. Rando was still trying to pull Amnestria into solicitous conversation. Had the man been flirting with her the entire time Oskar had been deaf and Marent occupied? He’d made a point to stick close to Amnestria since the incident the other day, when she’d refused to tell him what their employer had said to earn him a crack across the face. His mere presence had seemed enough to deter the man, but Rando was getting bolder, apparently. Amnestria appeared slightly on edge, but it could be the thought of horrible scarring on top of her head that had her agitated.

“What’s our plan for today,” Oskar broke in as Rando reached for the kettle to refill Amnestria’s cup. “Can’t do anythin’ with the dragon’s corpse, so we head for her lair, aye? Find that lyre yer so keen on?”

Rando cleared his throat, turning from the distracted elf. Amnestria had taken a few bites, but her hand drifted back up to pick at her scalp. “Yes, that seems like a good plan. If we can, maybe we should come back in a few days, see if we can salvage anything, and if not, set fire to the corpse. We should prevent that disease from spreading, at least.”

“Good,” Marent grunted succinctly between bites. “Safer that way.”

“That ‘minds me,” Oskar set his plate in his lap and stretched out his arm, pushing back his shirt sleeve. No blotches, but maybe it takes time? “What’re the odds that I contracted that disease last night? I was the only one wi’ real contact-”

“Damn.” Marent was already reaching for Oskar with one hand, an alarmed look somehow on his expressionless face. He quickly cast a spell, before sitting back, satisfied. “Nothing. you were lucky, lad. I canna believe I didna think to check-”

“What about the rest of us?” Amnestria had frozen with one hand on her head, the other holding her fork poised before her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Just because he didn’t catch anything-”

Rando was already moving, casting the same spell, but with his own flavor. He breathed out a quick little song as he took Amnestria’s hand. The bluish flash came, and went, and Rando bowed over Amnestria’s hand. “My lady, you are well and healthy, have no fear.”

Marent had stood and walked over to Rando, casting as he took the final few steps. He laid his hand on Rando’s shoulder just as Rando turned and began casting the spell again himself. Oskar could see the difference in the light, as they cast the same spell in quick succession. Rando’s light was more of a teal color, while Marent’s was a clear sky blue. Oskar wondered if that had something to do with the way they cast, or their personalities.

“All clear.”

“Yer fine too.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to their rapidly cooling food. They finished their meal, and worked together to clear the breakfast dishes and break camp. Rando and Marent were finishing packing the tents up as Oskar bent over Amnestria’s head with a comb and a damp rag. She was huddled near the dying fire, trying to soak up as much heat as possible before they left. She winced repeatedly as he carefully wetted and softened the blood-encrusted snarls, picking at them gently with the comb. He was trying to be careful, but there wasn’t any help for it. It was going to hurt.

“Remind you of anythin’?” Oskar asked, as he poked at a particularly recalcitrant snarl. “I think I was a wee bit worse off than you, to be honest.”

“A wee bit?” Amnestria turned around in astonishment, wincing as a few hairs pulled straight out of her scalp. “They had to practically shave your head after -”

“Shave your head?” Rando had wandered over to the fire, as Marent finished with tying up the last bag. “I simply can’t imagine you with short hair, Oskar, much less a clean-shaven pate. Whatever brought that notion on?"

Oskar stiffened, restraining himself from glaring up at the man. Rando was intent on the fire though, poking at some coals to release a last bit of heat before they smothered it. Marent walked over to stand beside Oskar, glancing down at the progress on Amnestria’s hair. Oskar reached out, dipping a hand into a pouch kept on the healer’s belt.

“It was a long time ago,” Amnestria said quickly, seeming to sense Oskar’s sudden mood. “Besides, nobody’s shaving my head unless they knock me unconscious first, so -”

The clear snick of the scissors Oskar had pulled from Marent’s healer’s kit sent the elf into sudden flight, her sudden alarm propelling her across the campsite, hands to her head, glaring fiercely at Oskar. He gave her an affronted look, snipping the cloth he held in his hand to a more manageable size and rinsing the blood out in a bowl of clean water.

“Dick. You did that on purpose.” She started to shiver, now that she was farther from the fire. Oskar’s cloak had landed on Rando’s head, and the bard pulled it off, straightening it out and standing, moving over to wrap it back around Amnestria’s shoulders. He watched their byplay with amusement as Amnestria ignored him, and slowly edged closer.

“I did no such thing, you know me lass; would I put you in such a state intentionally? Come, sit and let me finish. We need to get moving.” He gestured to the log she’d been sitting on a moment ago.

“Yes you damn well would. Give those things back.” Oskar sighed dramatically, passing the small bandage scissors back to Marent, who tucked them back into his pouch. She turned to Marent. “Okay. Now, you promise not to let him have them again."

Marent raised a brow at this demand, looking up at Oskar.

“Best humor her. you ken how women can get when the situation pertains to their appearance.” Oskar glanced back at Amnestria, and upon seeing the expression on her face, raised his hands defensively. “Alrigh’ then. I promise to no cut anythin’ without your approval. Aye?"

Peace brokered, Amnestria settled herself again and allowed Oskar to work the bloody tangles further from her hair. They needed to change the water twice, and by the time he was finished, her hair was soaked and the fire wasn’t doing nearly enough to help. Rando built it up a bit for her, and she pulled a blanket around herself as well. Marent took the time to clean both his and Oskar’s hammers, and openly polish his own shining helmet. He gave pointed looks to both Ness and Oskar as he did so, and they attempted to appear properly abashed.

Eventually, Oskar was able to carefully run a brush throughout the length of Amnestria’s hair. He patted her on the shoulder and stepped back in satisfaction. Marent immediately moved over to examine the injury, spreading the hair and leaning close.

“Weel, I can remove some of the splinters easy enough, but the others are embedded too deeply. I’ll need to cut along the original slash--” he traced a finger gently down the length of the scar-- “in order to remove them. I’ll heal it up again afterwards, and hopefully I can ensure that the scar won’t be so bad.”

“Alright.” Amnestria had paled when Marent mentioned cutting, but she closed her eyes briefly before nodding. “Get it over with.”

Marent looked to Oskar, who was already pulling out his hip flask and pressing it into Amnestria’s hand. The whiskey would do the lass good – it wasn’t called liquid courage for no reason. Oskar watched as Marent checked his pouch, flipping the cover open and feeling for all of his tools. He’d used them often enough that he could snatch anything that was needed without looking, so once he’d assured himself that everything was present and accounted for, he pulled the tweezers from their slot.

“This first part willna be so bad,” he explained as he watched Amnestria draining the flask. “A few twinges as I get the more prominent ones. I’ll warn you before going too deep.”

“Go for it,” Amnestria laughed. “Before I lose my nerve.”

“Aye then.” Marent got to work, quickly snatching three large splinters from the golden locks in a matter of seconds. He poked around for a moment, snagging a few more, before slipping the tweezers back into his pouch. “Now’s the hard part. Are you ready, lass?”

A quiet look of slight panic overtook Amnestria’s face, and Oskar quickly stepped over to the elf, forestalling Rando’s attempt to move closer to offer comfort. Oskar swooped her off of her stump, sitting down with her sideways on his lap. He pulled the layers of cloaks tightly around her, then wrapped his own arms firmly around the bulk of elf, clothing, armor, and multiple cloaks and blankets. He lifted a hand, pressing Amnestria’s head firmly down onto his shoulder, pinning it easily in place and giving Marent an unobstructed view of the surgical field.

Ness stretched and wiggled experimentally, but couldn’t shift her body enough to significantly jostle her head. She lurched with a sudden surge, but Oskar’s strength was enough to keep her stationary. She sighed, seeming pleased with the arrangement.

“Ok. Best get it over with before I pee on him. He’s poured so much tea into me, and that whiskey just about topped me off.” She sighed, trembling slightly. “Actually, if this is going to take more than a few minutes, maybe I should make a run into the bushes first-”

“I’ll be quick lass, just hold on,” Marent reassured her as he leaned in. “Trust me.”

“Hey Oskar, you’ve got a pretty girl in your lap,” Amnestria giggled, the whiskey or the fear taking sudden hold. She continued in a sing-song, “I’m’a tell your husband--”

The quick movement above her head coincided with her abrupt gasp. She twitched, every muscle in her body tensing. Oskar could hear the slicing of the flesh as Marent worked next to his ear, and gripped Amnestria even tighter, suddenly wishing he’d had some of that whiskey.

~~

“You don’t have to guard me, you know.” Amnestria looked pointedly at Oskar, giving him a reproving glare. “I can take care of myself.”

“I canna much stand the man, and you obviously don’t care for his company either. Marent doesna care one way or the other.” Oskar kept his eyes carefully on their surroundings, scrutinizing the underbrush for threats. “Seems the best possible arrangement, all things considered.”

Amnestria snorted, rolling her eyes and smiling slightly. She never could stay mad at him for long, and the whiskey hadn’t entirely worn off yet, so she was in a good humour.

“Well, Marent doesn’t like him anymore,” Amnestria replied lightly, stepping over a branch with her arms out for balance.

“When did that happen?” Oskar glanced over his shoulder, than back at Amnestria. He hopped over the branch. “He was fine wi’ the man yesterday.”

“This morning, obviously. Rando was impressed by your performance last night, and had some questions.” Amnestria rolled her eyes. “Fair warning: you’re to be ‘interviewed’.”

“Interviewed?” Oskar spoke quietly out of habit as they moved through the forest. He kept his eyes on the treeline, accustomed to keeping watch while Amnestria tracked their way. “Interviewed about what?”

“Your history,” Amnestria replied lightly, climbing up over a fallen tree. She walked along the length of it, arms outstretched and wobbling in an exaggerated manner. She laughed at Oskar as he held his arms out in in alarm, and flipped off the trunk easily, landing almost silently. He rolled his eyes and made a mental note to curtail her whiskey in the future. “Your ancestors, anything you might remember about where you came from, and so on. He wants to know your lineage.”

“God’s beard, not this again,” Oskar sighed in disgust. “D’ye think he’ll lay off if I tell him it’s none o’ his business?”

“Glare a lot when you do,” Amnestria prompted, pondering the idea. “Ooh – let the blood creep into your eyes. That always freaks people out. Shame I can’t do that, maybe he’d leave me alone.”

“Ye’ll just ha’ to let me ward him off for ye,” Oskar winked. “Besides lass, ye’ve done the same for me, many a time. I’d be remiss if I didna repay the favor at least once.”

She laughed outright at this, and they shared a pleasant quarter-hour of conversation, reminiscing about women they’ve met throughout the years, and their obliviousness to Oskar’s disinterest.

“Well, if you hadn’t been raised by dwarves, and had grown up with a normal human personality, you’d have been swarmed.” Amnestria ducked under a low-hanging branch. “Something about you just draws women in, the standoffishness notwithstanding. You should start practicing disgusted facial expressions. Paste them on when someone hits on you – yes, just like that!”