(no subject)

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan comes downstairs with his right hand wrapped tightly around his left (where, despite his best efforts, a shallow but long and wide cut can be seen on the back of his hand) and his dog whining anxiously at his heels.

"Bar", he asks sotto voce, "could I have some of that cream that cleans wounds? And a bandage?"

Somebody's unreliable hand tremored at exactly the wrong moment, with a chisel in it.

Comments

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar comes walking in from the back, smelling of motor oil and looking quite grimy, and turns his head towards the familiar canine whine.

"Whatever did you do?" he asks Athelstan, coming closer and trying not to look worried.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Just a cut, only skin deep." But it did bleed quite a bit. "It'll be healed in a few days."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Let me have a look," Ragnar says, reaching out for him, then pulling his hand back awkwardly when he realises he is far too grubby to touch a wounded man.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan looks at his hand, then carefully lets go of his injured one and holds it out for him to see.

"My hand jumped when I was working."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar peers at it. "I can't see anything because of all the blood," he says. "I'll go wash my hands and bring a bowl of water."

[athelstanthescribe]

"All right. I've got this cream, too."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar hurries away and comes back after no more then three minutes, sleeves rolled up and hand and arms scrubbed clean, carrying a bowl of hot water. The latter is probably unnecessary, as the bar could have given hi one, but he didn't think for a moment.

Athelstan's scarred and hurting hands, injured again!

[athelstanthescribe]

"It was my fault", Athelstan says apologetically. "I thought my hands were steady today."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"That doesn't mean it shouldn't be looked at and seen to if necessary," Ragnar says. "Of course people hurt themselves working on things, all the time. Even masters at their craft."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Then of course I'll let you look at it", he says, diffident.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Sorry," Ragnar says. "Should we better get Guppy, or Sinric's doctor friend?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"What? No. It doesn't need to bother the real doctors about."

He holds it out again.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar takes it, and starts washing away the blood with a clean cloth and the warm water from the bowl.

[soldier_blade]

Sonya's in Bar as well, her face looking miles better than when he last saw her at Olivier's wedding. Her clothing is the military dress-A's but the green tunic is draped over her chair and the green beret is set on the table. In her hands is a white button down shirt that she's currently sewing up a ripped shoulder.

The sound of Athelstan's voice gets her attention, and at first she gives him a relieved look-then she gets a look at his hand. "The hell happened?"

[athelstanthescribe]

He looks sharply around, startled, then offers a rueful smile.

"Just an accident."

[soldier_blade]

Her expression softens when she sees him look up. The temptation to reach down and give the dog a few ear scratches his tempting, but small or now, his hand needs looking after first.

Taking her things, she goes over to sit at his table. "What happened?" She asked Bar for some warm water and clean gauze.

[athelstanthescribe]

Fiachra seems to approve of her presence, scratches or not.

"I was making a wooden toy. My hand jumped."

[soldier_blade]

She took a section of gauze, dampening it in water. "Was it something that startled you, or just a bad day?" After what he experienced, his hands would never fully be back to normal, and even she knew well enough of 'bad days'.

[athelstanthescribe]

"A bad day. Sometimes it just happens, though I thought they were steady today - and the room was very quiet."

[soldier_blade]

"Days can be be bad for no reason at all." She started cleaning off the blood, studying the wound to see if it might need stitches. "This doesn't look too deep, thank god."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan nods. "It didn't feel as though it went deep. More across than in."

[soldier_blade]

Not deep, but still looked painful. "What sort of toy were you making, and who's it for?" She guessed it was either for Mary or something Ragnar could give to his kids.

Somehow she managed to get rid of most of the blood.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Just a little wooden carving, nothing advanced. I plan to make one for each of Ragnar's boys, and then something to hang over Mary's cradle."

He lets the talking distract him from the sting in his hand.

[soldier_blade]

"Bar..something to throw this out in?" She wasn't about to let anything bloody lay around. Bar was nice enough to provide a plastic bag she'd be able to throw out later. "They're still pretty young, right? I'm sure they'd appreciate a toy of any sort."

Not like there was a toy store nearby anyway. If they had any toys they would've had to have been homemade. "Next time I'm around, I'll see about getting a cloth doll for the Tadpole." She referred to Mary by the nickname she gave her. "Easier to 'blend in' with the time period."

[athelstanthescribe]

"The youngest isn't yet walking, and there's another coming. The older two boys are talking now, but still young enough for toys." He nods. "Cloth dolls are common."