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Affected (Iron Druid Chronicles, Atticus, Granuaile)


lilysneeze

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I'm absolutely peeved by the massive lack of Iron Druid Chronicles fanfiction like anywhere on the internet… These are like one of the funniest books I've ever read, and they are not even finished yet! Seriously go read them and produce some awesome fanfic because it deserves it! The genre is urban fantasy by the way.

This is more of a sickfic than specifically a sneezefic. Set somewhere in the beginning of the 12 year time gap between books 4 and 5 (Tricked and Trapped). I'll try and explain as much as I can the world specific lingo and stuff but best if you read the books especially if you like this little self-indulgent fic :) It might get a bit spoilery in the beginning because I'm trying to set the story into the timeline of the books.

Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own anything related to the Iron Druid Chronicles or its characters, it all belongs to the amazing Kevin Hearne. No money is made off of this, it is purely for entertainment purposes.


People thinking that you were dead sure had it perks. Thanks to Coyote's outstanding performance six months ago everyone, especially those of the Norse and Greco-Roman pantheons, believed me to have died by the hands Týr and Vidar in revenge for killing Thor. Not that it was actually me that had slain him but that didn't really matter to those two. Anyway back to the point, the perks. For one, nobody was trying to come and kill me. A very nice change compared to the last twenty centuries. Second I had all the time, peace and quiet in the world to train Granuaile in Druidry. She would be the first new initiate in like more than a 1000 years after the Romans and Christians had driven us to near extinction. At the moment, I, Atticus O'Sullivan – or Siodhachan Ó Suileabháin as they had known me back in the day – am the last living druid.

You absolutely deserve a break after being hounded for 2000 years by the Irish god of "love", Aenghus Óg, and at long last having to kill him because he threatened to unleash hell on Earth. Getting almost hexed by some nasty demon hosting witches. Guilted into attacking Asgard and barely missing getting hammered. Then getting tricked by one of the First People of the Navajo folklore. Not to mention coming really close to dying several times, all in the short time span of about five months.

So after that well-earned break and some travel, I and Granuaile finally returned to the Native American reservation in Arizona to live under the assumed names provided by Coyote in exchange for doing away with the skinwalkers terrorizing the land. Not like I had much of a choice in the matter but thankfully this little extracurricular endeavor didn't jeopardize my status as presumed dead by most.

Living in one house with Granuaile MacTiernan, whom I had first met as the fiery redhead waitress of the Rúla Búla Irish pub in Tempe, AZ, was a challenge. Not because she had annoying habits or anything, but because I was hopelessly attracted to her, but not allowed to act on it because of our ongoing teacher-apprentice relationship. Well, damn. Before our current arrangement we had shamelessly flirted every time we ran into each other at the pub. Which was often since it was the only decent Irish establishment near or far so I paid my visit there quite often.

That definitely didn't make things easier in the present. Just thinking about her had certain… effects on me… To draw my attention away from my very persistent morning wood I tried to focus on baseball while I took a cold shower. Wasn't really working, I had to admit. The crème colored tiles were much too reminiscent of her fair skin.

~Hey, Atticus. Isn't it time for breakfast yet?~

That was Oberon, my Irish wolfhound, whom I had bound my consciousness to, so now we could communicate through our mental link and he could also understand English if spoken aloud.

Yes, it is, bud. Just give me a minute, I replied to him mentally with a small smile forming on my lips. He was quite predictable. Even though dogs had a terrible sense of time in the long run, as to when what had happened, Oberon's inner clock told him exactly when to expect food, especially if it consisted of his favorites – sausages and bacon – and breakfast just wouldn't be the same without them.

I hurried up my shower then stepped in front of the mirror for a quick shave. The sight of myself with raven colored hair still caught me off guard. To blend in better with the population and to hide our very much Irish heritage we started dyeing our flaming red hair black a couple of months ago and with much sorrow I had also cut my goatee. Too distinctive as a feature and way too much trouble to dye. I don't think I have been clean shaven since the fall of the Roman Empire before this.

~Do we have any of those chicken–apple flavored ones?~ Oberon enthusiastically wagged his tail by my side as I made the short walk from the bathroom to my bedroom to put on some clothes. Best not tempt fate with accidentally flashing Granuaile in the kitchen in case the towel decided to slide off while I busied myself with cooking breakfast.

I don't know, I'll have to check, I continued to speak to him mentally because my apprentice was still sleeping. Yesterday we had a very rigorous martial arts lesson extending well into the night to prep her for fighting in lessened visibility and harsher conditions, like the cold. The weather in Arizona wasn't too accommodating for that skill to develop, but we would just have to make trips to other regions of the country to prep her. The winters here were pretty mild, although in the desert it can get quite chilly after sundown. So we took full advantage of that.

As I passed Granuaile's room on my way to the kitchen I could hear no sound coming out so she was probably still sleeping just as I had predicted. Who was I to rob her of that extra half an hour when I actually loved making breakfast? No need to bother her before it was ready. My old archdruid would have argued with my lenient attitude but as I have learned, positive reinforcement and caring nurturing was a better motivator for the millennial generation than unnecessary cruelty and fear that was so common in my actual youth.

"Sorry we are all out of the chicken-apple sausages," I whispered to Oberon as I finished checking the freezer. "You'll have to ask Coyote to bring over some more if we see him. I have no idea where he gets them from. How about some Thuringian?"

~As long as it comes like greased lightning,~ he sat down eagerly, his tail still thumping happily against the floor.

I had to chuckle at the proverb. Greased it will be all right, but hopefully no lightning will accompany it. Though I still had the fulgurite I got from Perun, the Slavic god of thunder, attached to the back of my cold iron necklace.

I cooked up some scrambled eggs with cheese and bell peppers, Oberon's sausages and some bacon getting ready in another pan. While that was sizzling, I put the coffee on to brew. Granuaile still hadn't made an appearance even though the smell of breakfast usually drew her out of slumber no matter how tired she was.

When I was finally finished with everything I returned to her pale blue door and knocked this time. No reaction. Again. Still nothing.

"Granuaile, breakfast is ready!" I hollered in, hoping that she would hear it.

"Lea'me alone," came the somewhat grumpy muffled reply. In hindsight I should have suspected that something was off then and there. Granuaile was never rude without reason.

~Can I get that sausage now?~ my hound impatiently inquired.

"Sure," I sighed, turning back towards the kitchen, still puzzled by Granuaile's behavior. Though truthfully last night really was kind of rough in terms of training, but was necessary for her to improve. Skills never develop without pushing the limits.

We ate in silence with Oberon, him practically inhaling the sausages and some bacon on the side. I put foil over my apprentice's now cold portion and put it into the fridge in case she wanted it later.

"How about a run, buddy? Chase some hares in the mesa?" I asked a bit dejectedly. Usually Granuaile came with us too on our routinely morning run, even if at a slower pace to build up stamina, but I decided it was better to let her rest. Training could wait until we got back.

I left my sandals on the porch and relished the connection with Gaia once my feet hit the ground. Through the interconnected tattoos running up on my right arm, down my side all the way to my feet I was bound to the earth. All my magical power came from it. I quickly checked on my bear charm – which could store a small amount of magic to use in emergencies if I wasn't in contact with the ground – on my necklace to make sure it was fully charged, then beckoned Oberon to run with me. He shot off at full speed, enjoying the wind as it rolled off his fur.

I kept pace with him by drawing some power from the ground, boosting my endurance and speed. I sometimes joined Oberon in my own wolfhound form but it was still a bit cold this morning so I didn't particularly want to undress in order to transform, so just followed along as a human. There was no one around to witness my inhuman speed.


After getting a few rabbits and squirrels thoroughly freaked out, and relieving himself in a burrow just to mess with them, Oberon deemed the morning successful so we trotted back to the farm house. Granuaile was still nowhere to be seen, and the food wasn't touched either, there wasn't an extra set of tableware in the sink.

I decided it was time to check on her. I knocked twice again, but this time there wasn't even a peep.

"I'm coming in!" I called out to warn her in case she was indecent, although I wouldn't have minded to take a peek at her perky breasts. Geez, Atticus, get it together. The Diamondbacks really need to practice their pitches more…

As I opened the door, I noticed that Granuaile was still in bed, facing away from the entrance. Oberon slid right past me and went to the side of the bed where my apprentice was at the moment, nudging the sapphire colored blanket with his nuzzle.

~Atticus, she is hot,~ he commented in a deadpan tone.

I know she is hot, I snorted my mental reply embarrassedly. She always have been.

~No, I mean I can feel heat radiating off of her even without touching her,~ Oberon whined with concern. ~Also her breathing sounds funny.~

Oh, shoot, I thought as I quickly crossed the room to join my hound to investigate, worry etching my features now too.

Granuaile was bundled up in blankets from neck to toe, only her face, lightly dusted with freckles and now flushed high up in her cheekbones, peeking out, framed by dyed black tresses sticking to her clammy forehead.

No doubt about it, she had a fever. Oberon's other comment about her breathing implied an even bigger problem. Now that I paid attention, even I with my normal human ears could hear how labored it sounded. I crouched down beside her, brushing back her hair to check her forehead. She stirred the moment the cooler temperature of my hand touched her burning skin.

First she barely got her eyelids open, blinked a couple of times trying to focus on who or what had disturbed her sleep with much difficulty. Her red-rimmed green eyes caught mine and I could tell from her sudden panicked expression that she either didn't recognize me or really didn't want me to see her like this.

Despite being obviously unwell she scrambled back from me with surprising speed and almost fell off on the other side of the bed, where she finally drew in a big breath of air, that unfortunately caught in her throat and she started to cough painfully.

I walked around the bed in slow pace, not wanting to alarm her further. Even through her fit she never took her eyes off of me, as if being wary of my presence.

"It's just me, Atticus," I tried to reassure her with my hands in front of me where she could see them, in case she really didn't know it was me.

Confusion etched her face then she suddenly relaxed, well as much you could relax while hacking up a lung, but her features mellowed out towards me when her eyes caught the tattoos on my hand. I took that as a sign that it was okay to approach, so I sat down behind her and began to rub soothing circles into her back to calm the coughing. She grabbed onto my right hand, trying to steady herself while coughing into her left elbow, hunched over her knees.

After a painful few minutes she finally got her breathing under control enough to suck in tiny, tentative breaths into her lungs without setting herself off again and sagged against me.

"It's all right, I've got you," I murmured as I supported her weight. The perverse part of me would have rejoiced at this close contact if I weren't fully preoccupied with worry at her condition.

"For a moment… I didn't remember… your hair is black now," Granuaile managed to explain breathlessly, looking thoughtfully at my tattoos again for reconfirmation, tracing the triskele on the back of my hand with her finger. "Thought you were some stranger sneaking around."

"I figured. Yours is black too by the way, before you freak again," I chuckled to try and lighten the mood. Normally I was all for a healthy dose of paranoia – it had saved my life on numerous occasions – but in a delirious haze from fever everything looked scarier than it was and her heart was already doing double work to try and squeeze the limited amount of oxygen it could gather from her lungs around her body.

Instead of laughing with me, she examined a lock of her hair at the side her head very seriously, trying to process the fact I just broke to her. Her fever was really high, I could feel her heat even through our combined clothing and her blanket. I placed my hand against her forehead again, trying to gauge just how high it was. Definitely in the 102-103 degree region if I had to take a guess. Maybe even higher. What had me absolutely befuddled is how fast this had come on. Yesterday she seemed fine… although…

"Hey," I tried to get her attention gently. "When did this all start?"

Granuaile, bless her heart, took great care to think over her reply. I could almost see the cogs turning behind her furrowed brows as her fevered mind tried to make sense of the question and figure out the correct answer.

"Not sure… yesterday I felt a bit sluggish… but otherwise fine… I thought it was just muscle fatigue… from training every day, you know," she sucked in a ragged breath and began coughing anew.

Well, yes, that explained why her reaction time was so delayed yesterday evening all throughout our sparring. The beginnings of a cold or the flu, and being out in the chilly night air just aggravated it, not to mention the physical exertion and the sweating that came with it. By the sound of her already wet, forceful coughs, it might even be turning into pneumonia.

"I should have paid more attention to your well-being, I'm sorry," I truly was. It pained me to see someone I cared deeply about in such misery. My left hand automatically drew the circles into her back without my conscious command, while my mind wandered unbidden to darker times when respiratory infections like these usually claimed the patient's life.

"S'not your fault," she wheezed.

"Also should have started giving you Virus Immuni-Tea the moment the seasons changed," I chastised myself. Why I had neglected to do so was beyond me. Ever since we started training I've been sharing Immortali-Tea with her to keep her body youthful like mine, but that only prevented aging and genetic related diseases to develop. "Although it's a good question how you managed to contract something when the nearest human to us is at least five miles away."

"A few days ago… when I was walking Oberon… I ran into a bunch of kids by the river bed," Granuaile recalled after a few moments. "One of them was kind of sniffling the whole time."

~I remember that, they even played fetch with me, but that was like three weeks ago,~ Oberon chimed in to confirm the theory.

Oberon, I'm pretty sure that was five days ago, you two rarely go for a walk without me, I smiled despite myself.

~What's wrong with her?~ he whimpered a bit, hopping onto the bed to curl up by Granuaile's left side. She absentmindedly scratched him behind his ears.

Just a moment, I bid my hound to patience.

"How do you feel?" I asked her before giving a final diagnosis.

"Congested, cold, shaky and achy, tired… My lungs kind of hurt," she replied dutifully. Testament to that last statement, she doubled over with a wince after a sneeze, clutching her side. When she seemed stable enough to sit on her own I slipped out from my position behind her and sat down on her right side in front of her. I ran my fingers under her jaw, feeling for swollen lymph nodes that would indicate a bacterial infection. Unfortunately they were really tender, Granuaile even flinched back a bit from my touch despite me trying to be gentle.

"Sorry," I apologized again. This would be the day's motto it seemed.

"Are you playing doctor now?" she eyed me suspiciously. Her pouty lips, accentuated by the rose color in her cheeks really made her utterly kissable. Stop it, dammit. Baseball… pitching and batting…

"Khm, druid here remember? Back in the day we were pretty much all the healers you could get. I had to know what was wrong to be able to mix the appropriate herbal remedy for it. Respiratory infections didn't really change in nature since then," I explained a bit smugly.

"So what's the verdict?" Granuaile asked with a tired sniffle, resting her head on her knees.

"I would say you caught the flu, then my less than brilliant training strategy for yesterday ensured that it had settled in your lungs," I scratched the back of my head to try and ease my guilt at the situation. "But I would need a stethoscope to hear just how bad it is. Best case scenario just a bad case of the flu or bronchitis… worst case…"

"Alright, I get it, pneumonia," she sighed and this time managed to contain her spasms to two small coughs just to prove a point that she wasn't that sick.

"Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes? I'll go make some medicine for you," I offered readily, wanting to get started on it as fast as possible.

"Shouldn't a doctor see me? Prescribe antibiotics?" she inquired with a raised brow. Her lack of confidence in me kind of stung.

"The stuff I can concoct by binding is just as effective, if not more, not mention 100% organic. But if you are not improving in two days, we will," I promised her, which she seemed to find acceptable.

"Sensei…" she called after me hesitantly when I was almost at the door.

"Yeah?" I turned back eagerly, wanting to be helpful in whatever way she wanted.

"Before you go… I really need to go to the bathroom," Granuaile implied embarrassedly that she wasn't sure if she could make it that far on her own.

"Okay, let me just get you a bathrobe to keep you warm," I applauded myself mentally for the quick thinking and trotted across the hall to retrieve it. Once I returned to the bed she put it on promptly, though it did nothing to lessen her shivering.

"C'mere," I offered my hand to her. She took it, grateful that I didn't make fun of her temporary weakness. The moment she tried to put weight on her lower limbs, her knees buckled and I had just enough time to catch her. "Whoah there. I guess we can rule out 'walking' pneumonia."

"That was genuinely muscle fatigue not the achiness. You kind of kicked my butt yesterday," my apprentice huffed as I hooked my arm under her knees to carry her bridal style to the bathroom, much to her dismay.

~Figuratively and literally too,~ Oberon helpfully offered his input on the matter making me shake my head with a sigh. The banter would have been really funny if the outcome of those events were diffetent. If I just paid a bit more attention…

"What?" she inquired after having caught my grim expression.

"Oberon's just being himself," I smiled at her reassuringly as I set her down on the edge of the bathtub.

"I wish I could hear you," Granuaile commented wistfully to Oberon who followed us in as she petted him. Even sitting down she seemed unsteady without the blankets and pillows to prop her up.

"Keep an eye on her, okay buddy? Make sure she doesn't fall," I instructed my wolfhound before exiting to allow her some privacy. Call out for me mentally if something's wrong, I added.

~Sure thing. Granuaile can lean on me as much as she wants,~ he dutifully replied, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"I'm not a kid that needs to be watched," her mouth turned pouty again in protest.

"I know, just delirious and feverish. I'll be back in a sec," I smirked at her, closing the door behind myself before she could retort.


I hurried my way to the kitchen, put up some water to boil for tea, and then checked my containers to see what herbs I had in stock inside. Plenty of thyme and sage, good. Besides that I got out some eucalyptus, peppermint and about ten other herbs that had either antipyretic, antiviral qualities or were good for coughs, respiratory infections.

Before getting started with that I prepared a tray with a glass of water, crackers, tissues, and a thermometer.

~Atticus, I think she is going to keel over from just standing by the sink,~ Oberon's distressed voice entered my mind at that moment.

Coming, I replied then quickly deposited the tray on Granuaile's bedside table before entering the bathroom with a knock.

My usually so strong and brave apprentice was slumped down on the floor, leaning against Oberon's sitting form by her side.

"I don't think I'm up for training today, sensei," she commented with a small laugh as she tried to catch her breath. Her whole body was shaking from the effort the exerted to stay upright.

"Of course not, silly girl. First you have to get better. Hopefully my remedies can get you back on your feet in 4-5 days instead of the two or more weeks it usually takes pneumonia to clear up," I picked her up yet again, finding the action actually rather enjoyable. Wish I could do this under different circumstances. Her head rested against my chest, Granuaile not having the strength to hold it up.

"But there is so much to do, to learn, and I have only eleven years to complete it," she muttered tiredly, not realizing how little a few days lost meant in that time span.

"How about this? When you feel a bit better, I'll show you how to mix the herbal remedy I'm going to give you, and talk through the properties and interactions of all the components involved," I suggested with a smile at her eagerness to learn and not lose time.

"Sounds good… but I don't want to have to actually mix them ever. I don't want to feel as shitty as now ever again," her face was ghostly pale behind her black locks as she mumbled on.

"Who knows, maybe I'll need it," I chuckled as I bent down to set her back on her bed.

"Wait! I can get you sick?" the realization dawned on her and she squirmed out of my hold, trying to put some distance between us, landing a bit harder on the bed then I intended. She scooted over to the other side to cough into her elbow again. I pulled up the sofa from the corner to her bed and sat down on it, smirking mirthfully as my heart warmed a bit by her concern for my well-being.

"It's a great question. In 2100 years I have contracted all sorts of illnesses, most of which I have developed immunity to. But many different viruses can cause cold and flu like symptoms, not to mention that these are some of the fastest mutating agents out there. I'll drink some Immuni-Tea as a precaution, but don't worry yourself over me," I explained as I watched her. Even in her disheveled state I found her lovely. Though the rate she was coughing at really worried me.

"M'Okay…" she managed to squeeze out finally, lying back down under her covers, thoroughly exhausted. Oberon hopped on yet again, lying down by her side to keep her warm.

"Before you fall back asleep, could you take your temperature?" I asked. Best check it now, later with all the tea she would be drinking it wouldn't give an accurate reading most of the time anyway.

She looked around confusedly then noticed the tray that somehow magically appeared in her room. I handed her the thermometer so that she didn't have to move from her comfy place.

"I'll be back soon," I reiterated sort of like the Terminator. Oberon caught onto it too.

~Hurry up Arnie, before Skynet reprograms you,~ he woofed with a laugh.


Yet again back in the kitchen I got myself a packet of the premade Immuni-Tea and poured some hot water over it into a big mug, then began to work on a modified blend of it for Granuaile to fight off the infection instead of its original, preventive properties. The other project was to make a cough syrup to help break up the congestion in her chest.

I was done in less than half an hour, binding herbs came as second nature to me, but by the time I got back to Granuaile's room, she had fallen fast asleep on her back, her mouth slightly open because she couldn't breathe through her nose.

~Should I wake her?~ Oberon asked, dead set on trying to help wherever he could with taking care of my apprentice.

No, let her sleep some more. The tea needs about ten-fifteen minutes to cool off anyway. Well at least hers did, mine was perfectly drinkable already and I made sure to drink plenty of it. Though my body was in great shape so it probably won't hit me as hard even if I did catch it, but we really didn't need both of us out of commission. I noticed that the water glass I left for her was empty. Good, girl. Keeping hydrated.

I stood back up to refill it, and also checked on the thermometer. Holy moly, 103.5. Way too damn high. No wonder she was so disoriented. I got a washcloth and basin from the kitchen to fill with tepid water.

When I stepped back into the room Granuaile was busy talking in her sleep. Reciting the periodic table nonetheless. Learning languages was a piece of cake to her, but the chemistry and drug interactions involved in mixing herbs together were getting to her sometimes. Her having nightmares about elements would have been truly amusing if it weren't for her furrowed brows that showed that she was really uncomfortable.

Before shocking her by placing the cold rag onto her forehead without warning, I touched upper arm gently to rouse her. For a moment she was disoriented again, but didn't believe me to be a trespassing ninja like before.

"There's my druid…" she smiled loopily at me, her eyes closing back down in relief at seeing me. Her feverishly unfiltered words did things to me. Especially the possessive adjectives.

"Hey, don't fall back asleep yet. Drink some of this tea, will you?" I got her attention back quickly.

"For you… anything," my once redhead apprentice chuckled but unfortunately set herself off into a coughing fit so I helped her sit up and had her lean against me like before.

Once she was done I handed her the mug, warning her to drink carefully because it was still pretty hot.

"Ugh, this could use some sugar," Granuaile made a face at the bitterness of the drink.

"And then the whole point of it would be lost," I informed her with a grin. The glucose from the sugar would mess up the chemical bonds between the herbs and it would be less effective. Especially the antipyretic components, which she really needed right now.

"Typical. Anything that's good for you tastes bad," the philosophy graduate cared to offer her very profound, although not too original take on the question. But we will forgive her that. I wouldn't be able to think up anything witty with a fever of almost 104 either.

~I contest, bacon and sausages don't taste bad, quite the contrary, and it's the best thing you could put in your belly!~ Oberon's single minded – and rhyming – input made me laugh, especially put up against the opinions of my ill apprentice.

"I think you'll find, Oberon, that according to doctors the fats in those are bad for your heart," I informed him, simultaneously cluing Granuaile into his shenanigans, and the cause of my mirth.

~What? I've been living a lie!~ my hound barked aloud in chagrin, which in turn amused the girl leaning against me. The sound of her joy was music to my ears. And besides, laughter was the best medicine.

"Don't worry, Oberon, Atticus here will just give you some foul tasting liquid that will counteract any ill effects and all will be well," she fondly hugged him around the neck. I loved the fact that they got along so well. Kind of made me feel like we were family. My mind snapped to Tahirah, my late wife, and our two hundred years together in Africa for a moment, but I quickly chased away the bittersweet memories.

~Oh, alright. Point to the sick lady!~ he conceded, placing back his head into Granuaile's lap.

Are we keeping score today? I raised a brow at him. Sometimes we engaged in friendly contests as to who could come up with wittier, funnier or more accurate observations. On occasion Oberon would include Granuaile in it too without her knowledge.

~Nah, would be kind of unfair to Granuaile. She might have gotten this one right, but she is kind of slow on the uptake today,~ his sad puppy dog eyes flickered between the two of us, as if disappointed in the lost opportunity.

Don't tease, she has a really high fever right now, I admonished him.

~I know. Just sayin'. Though she says pretty funny stuff,~ that I had to give him, Granuaile was hilarious all in her own right, but her loopy self was endearing to watch.

While we mentally bantered with Oberon, Granuaile managed to finish her tea, despite it being some foul tasting liquid, as she put it. The steam made her nose run, so she plucked a tissue from the box to give it a good blow.

"Ready for the next medicine?" I asked getting the dark brown bottle and a spoon from the tray.

"Please tell me it's not more tea, I can already feel it swooshing around in my belly," she frowned. She must have been feeling a bit queasy. Not surprising.

"Nope, cough syrup," I shook my head.

"Home-made cough syrup, oh goodie," my apprentice rolled her eyes coupled with that sarcastic comment. The store-bought kind was nasty, you had to admit, way too sweetened.

"Just one tablespoon," I coaxed her.

"You know I'll take it, whatever you give me," Granuaile pointedly looked at me. Her absolute trust in me was touching.

"I actually didn't, but good to know. Although I advise a little more paranoia. How do you know it isn't someone impersonating me, like Coyote?" I challenged just for the sake of training, even though I told her earlier that we would wait until she was a bit better.

"Because… I can tell…" she didn't elaborate further but a blush of darker shade of red crept up her face that even her fever flush couldn't hide, and nudged me instead to administer that damn spoonful of cough syrup already.

Once done, she settled back into bed and I placed the cool cloth on her forehead. I cleaned up a bit, getting the dirty dishes from the tray and taking them out to the kitchen. Got a new batch of tea for myself and a book form the library, then made myself comfortable at the bedside of my apprentice. I wasn't going to leave her side until she was well again.

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~Hey, Atticus, I really need to go outside,~ Oberon woke me by nudging his nuzzle against my hand.

Looks like I fell asleep, I commented with a yawn.

~Yeah, you were snoring too, but hurry up I really need to take a piss, and I'm sure you'd prefer me not doing it on your carpet,~ he ranted on while I tried to get my mental faculties together. As I stood up the book that was in my lap almost fell to the floor with a loud bang, but I caught it just in time.

Granuaile still seemed to be sleeping, I noted, before quickly trotting to the back door and opening it for Oberon.

~Yoohoo, nature calls!~ my wolfhound yipped happily and ran off to mark some trees.

That reminded me, what time was it? Oberon was usually good at lasting at least till midafternoon after relieving himself during the morning run. A quick check on the kitchen wall clock confirmed that it was indeed 2 PM. I know I was alert at least till 11, reading, then I don't know what came over me.

It was well over time for another round of medicine anyway so I prepared that quickly before calling Oberon back inside.

~Can't I stay out longer?~ he pleaded. We didn't usually coop up like this, Granuaile's training provided plenty of opportunities for outside time. Back in Tempe when I tended to the Third Eye Books and Herbs store he either stayed in the backyard of my house or watched movies inside, but it was easy for him to get used to a more active lifestyle and even harder to shift back to staying put for long.

Sure, go bother the sheep a bit, just be gentle, I smiled to myself. When we moved here we procured some low maintenance farm animals that were usually out in the small pasture on the east side of the house.

I grabbed our two mugs and went back to check on my apprentice. She was up all right, busy hacking up a lung again, hugging her side because the spasms hurt her tender muscles around her ribcage. I tried helping her but she pushed me away, probably worried about infecting me. Tears started streaming out of her emerald eyes, desperation clear in them for the fit to end but she couldn't get her breathing under control. After a few minutes she started gagging, and I realized if it doesn't stop soon she would throw up from the continuous coughing.

I ran out to the bathroom for a bucket from the closet under the sink and made it back just in time to hold the red plastic pail under her chin for her to spit up what little she had in her stomach, almost chocking on it because the coughing still hadn't let up. After what seemed like an eternity she finally sucked some ragged breaths in and calmed down, her face blotchy red from the strain. Granuaile sobbed against me and my heart broke at her helplessness.

"Can't you just… magic this away?" she asked desperately after a few minutes, her breaths still wheezing loudly in her chest. I wish I could.

"You know I can't. It's too risky. If I messed something up with the binding and caused you harm…" I trailed off as I held her protectively to my side, not wanting to finish. Druidic magic had its own laws. If I used it to inflict damage in a living being, even if accidentally, it would cost my life. Those were Gaia's terms.

Technically bacteria were living organism too – as opposed to viruses – wonder if that counted… You see until the end of the 17th century no one knew jackshit about microbiology, so I couldn't very well ask my archdruid regarding his take on the topic, since by this time I had been the lone druid for centuries. Not to mention busy being a family man in Africa.

"I know… would be nice though," my apprentice sighed in understanding, paying very close attention to regulate her breathing with slow purposeful lungfuls.

I could feel that she was still burning up, but maybe it had lessened to a bit more manageable level. Just when I was about to offer her the mug of tea, her breath hitched and she barely managed to cover her mouth before sneezing into my chest. I might have just found a new fetish, if it was her doing the sneezing. Dammit, again. Baseball, baseball, baseball.

"Ugh," she winced. "It really hurts here," she pointed to a specific spot on her left side.

"May I?" I asked before pulling up her nightshirt to see why that might be, concentrating very hard on not getting carried away by the fact that I was going to see her naked skin, quite possibly some underboob too.

I was horrified to find the large purple bruise that was forming just below her ribcage on her side, extending to her back. Yeah, that would be the place of the round kick that she didn't turn and bring up her arms to block in time. Dammit. The weight of the guilt I was feeling was almost crushing me. I ran my fingers over it to see if the ribs had cracked or not. That would have been really dangerous coupled with pneumonia.

"Ouch," Granuaile flinched again, but thankfully the bones seemed to be intact, just tissue damage and bruising.

"Sorry," I frowned. What I was apologizing for specifically at that moment I didn't know. There was just so much to list.

"Stop that," she sternly told me.

"Stop what?" I raised my brow at her.

"This misguided guilt trip. I'm not interested. I… and only I have the ability to see my own limits. If anyone, I should have paid more attention to my body and what it could handle," she managed to finish her stubborn rant before doubling over again to cough.

"Yes, but I'm your teacher, I have to set the pace for your training and know how far I can push you in a certain situation," I wasn't backing down.

"Then it's my fault… for not saying anything yesterday," Granuaile insisted. "You didn't have all the information."

Even sick as she was her reasoning and negotiating skills where astounding. I didn't really have a retort for that. It was funny how sometimes she was teaching me stuff.

"Okay, let's focus on getting you better," I agreed to drop the topic of blame assignment. "Drink this, I'll go make another tea to speed up the tissue healing so it won't bother you."

She nodded listlessly as she took the cup from me, the brief adrenalin rush provided by arguing with me leaving her body. I returned to the kitchen to make a blend similar to the stuff I gave to Oberon when a vampire kick shattered the bones in his shoulder and ribs.

When I entered her bedroom again she was on her right side, staring intently at the patterns on her nightstand where the tray with all the medical supplies were. I sat down in the chair facing her, nursing the cup with the healing tea until it was at an appropriate temperature for her to drink.

"You are a good teacher, sensei," Granuaile suddenly stated with great conviction. "Don't ever doubt that."

The many apprentices I lost just before they could have been bound to the earth came to my mind, but I decided not to rehash those particular failures of mine with her right now. They happened over a millennium ago anyway. In any case her reassurance was sweet.

"All righty then," I sighed suddenly, slamming my free palm against my knee. "Let's get those bruised ribs healed up."

My fake enthusiasm and chipperness didn't fool my sharp eyed apprentice though. She rolled her eyes at me, but pushed herself up with a bit of struggle into a sitting position anyway and took the mug from me.

"This is just as bad," she commented with a smirk on the taste of this tea. I shrugged, it couldn't be helped, but I was glad that her humorous self was back somewhat.

~Okay, I'd like to come in now. Sheep are boring, can't even get them to run from me,~ Oberon complained from outside.

"Be back in a sec, gotta let Oberon in," I told Granuaile who looked at me questioningly when I stood from my place.

"Whooo let the dogs out?" she inquired in an almost perfect deadpan expression, but the corners of her mouth quivered, revealing that she was about to lose it.

"Why, me, thank you for asking," I bowed to her with dramatic, over exaggerated hand gestures then took the mug of tea from her hand before she could spill it all over the covers as she started chuckling.

Although not a very good idea with aching sides and with the possibility of triggering a coughing fit, which indeed happened, but she motioned for me to go, and that she would be all right for the twenty seconds it would take me to make the round trip.


~Still not healthy as a horse I hear,~ Oberon commented drily as his keen ears picked up Granuaile's coughing from across the house.

It has only been half a day, I reminded him, closing the porch door behind him and following him to the sick room.

There he promptly took his place on the bed, acting like a living space heater. Granuaile had kicked the covers off of herself, and albeit very happy to see our enthusiastic hound she scooted a bit away from him, obviously feeling too hot in her own skin.

Not for long though, within minutes she was bundling up again, snuggling against Oberon for warmth. Lucky bastard.

"I hate fevers with a vengeance. I'm hot, then I'm cold. Stupid body just make up your mind already," she sniffed melodramatically.

In reality the two cups of steaming tea were the cause of her overheating at the moment, but it's good that she got back under the covers. It would be rather counterproductive if she got chilled again. Contrary to popular belief though sweating the fever out was just as misguided in treating them as ice baths. The main point was to make the patient comfortable, and not shivering, which also raised body temperature by the way.

~Does that make you or her Katy Perry? Did you kiss a girl and like it?~ Oberon interpreted the lyrics to the situation quite literally.

I snorted in surprise. Yes, I've kissed many girls over the years and liked it just fine, I replied with a smug smirk. Not sure about her though. Granuaile could tell I was talking with Oberon but had no idea what the cause of the merriment was.

~I see how it is. You get plenty of action, but don't even have the decency to get me a single poodle bitch already,~ the Irish wolfhound grumbled like a discontent child and turned away from me defiantly, hiding his face in Granuaile's side. Really close to her breasts. Oh, how I wished I was in his place now. Right, and for a proper set pitch you got to get the stretch right, then swing your arm…

"Are you two fighting?" she asked, puzzled by Oberon's reaction.

"We somehow managed to jump from Katy Perry to the fact that we don't have a poodle companion for him," I explained as I leaned back in the sofa. Man, I felt tired, even with the unintentional nap I took.

She looked at me in confusion for a moment, then it dawned on her. "Oh, right. The lyrics. God, I'm so slow today," she rubbed her face. "Am I supposed to kiss a girl now and like it?"

~I like your apprentice, have I told you that before?~ Oberon perked up again happily. Great minds think alike.

"Oberon had brought up the same point earlier to decide which one of us supposed to be her," I elaborated further with feigned seriousness.

"Not to burst your bubble or anything but I have kissed girls before too," Granuaile blurted out, probably not even intending for me to hear it because a second later she was beet red in embarrassment. I'm guessing she liked it.

~I'll just say it's a tie. You both get to be Katy Perry,~ Oberon closed the question, quickly losing interest in the topic.

"Thank you. That would mean I'd have my own C cups to fondle," my perverse brain to mouth filter seemed to have broken from overload.

Granuaile was struggling to keep a straight face and just hid in her pillow, turning on her side facing away from me. Though I think I heard her mutter "You are such an idiot," under her breath. I just now realized that conversation sounded a lot weirder without hearing Oberon's input. Oh well. With a little hope she had a guess as to what he had said.

Her dainty little sneezes that she tried to keep from getting harsh were the only things breaking the silence for a while, and yet again I felt that warm fuzzy pull towards her every time she did it.

"The tea's working already, by the way," she felt the need to say a little later.

"I'm glad," I curtly replied as I stared out the window. At least that was one problem down, coughing wouldn't be that painful for her from now on.

"Aren't you hungry? It's way past lunch time," my apprentice noted. And indeed time flew away, nearing 4 PM.

Truthfully, I didn't have much of an appetite. Coupled with everything else, not a good sign. I think it was time to switch myself to the blend I was giving to Granuaile too instead of the standard Immuni-Tea. Persistent little fuckers these viruses were. I also activated my healing, tapping into my bear charm.

"Yeah, I'll cook something up. Do you want anything?" I asked, pushing myself out of the sofa that seemed to be sucking me in.

"I think I'll stick to toast and crackers, just to play it safe," she made a face as she recalled her earlier less than elegant episode with keeping her stomach contents in.

"Good call," I nodded as I staggered out of the room.


Once outside, I exhaled a big breath, running my hand through my hair as I considered my options for a light late lunch. Hah, nice alliteration. But first, water for tea.

~Atticus, you don't look so hot,~ Oberon observed as he followed me out to the kitchen.

Geez, thanks, bud, I snorted my sarcastic reply. Aren't you a bit biased? I asked, recalling his remark regarding Granuaile's fever. Might as well check my own if even Oberon could tell I was under the weather. There should be another thermometer around the house, I mused as I checked the cabinets in the kitchen, but it wasn't there. Maybe the bathroom.

~Of course I am. Poodles before food pals,~ he huffed.

At least he had his priorities straight. Note sarcasm. Shouldn't that be the other way around? Bros before hoes? I shook my head, but quickly stopped because it made dizzy a bit.

Gotcha. Finally found it. I stuck it in my mouth as I busied myself with making toast, popping a couple of left over sausages from earlier into the microwave for Oberon. I caught my reflection in the shiny surface of its door. I looked as pale as a ghost. Persistent and ultra-fast working fuckers. Kid germs for you, ladies and gentlemen. Though Granuaile might have been contagious even before the symptoms set in. She did have a habit of stealing my morning cup of coffee. I must have drunk from it after her sometime in the past five days.

I placed the sausages in front of Oberon just as the instrument in my mouth beeped. I took a quick glance at it. 99.9. Meh. Not so bad. I was 99.9% sure that I wouldn't be feeling so "meh" tomorrow though. More like in the "fuck I want to curl up and die" region. At least my suffering would end right about there too. Not so much for my unbound apprentice. The fact that Granuaile was handling it so gracefully elevated her even more in my eyes. Aside from the occasional comment she wasn't whining, nor was making demands for me to wait at her beck and call. I did that all on my own volition.

I nibbled on some toast, sipping carefully on what I decided to call Cura-Tea, or maybe Heal-Tea, although that name would be better for the modified Immortali-Tea. Damn, I wasn't on top of my game with puns at the moment. I wondered how Granuaile even managed to focus on anything, she was much worse off. Whoever decided to call it influenza knew exactly what they were talking about. You were literally under the influence, almost like a drug, reducing your ability to think, move, or pretty much do anything. Someone should put it on the banned substances list.

I got some fresh toast for her too, not mention tea… again… and once again entered pale blue themed sanctuary. I started to feel like a glorified errand boy. I wouldn't have minded at all under normal circumstances, but my body was starting to protest all this back and forth and moving around.

"Thank you, sensei," Granuaile munched on her toast too, chasing it down with tea, seemingly gotten used to the bitterness of it already.

I slumped back down into the sofa, grateful for the light blanket that was thrown over it, because now I could wrap it around myself.

~Look at you two cuties. Sick together. Have you been smooching and canoodling while I wasn't looking?~ he teased, but set his head in my lap sympathetically.

"Damn, Atticus, you look sick as a dog," Granuaile assessed me with a scrutinizing gaze, with hints of worry and guilt behind it all.

~Hey, I take offence at that idiom! That's just plain mean!~ Oberon barked in vexation, thank heavens only once because I was starting to get a headache.

"Look who's talking!" I said to the both of them with a meaningful glance. John Travolta and Kirstie Alley had nothing on me, especially with their Scientology bullshit. On a quick side note, I hope that cult won't transcend generations for their particular megalomaniac douchebags to achieve actual godhood.

~Why? What did I ever do to you?~ my hound confusedly looked at me.

Have you already forgotten the 'you don't look so hot' comment? I reminded him, quirking my brow and trying really hard not to laugh.

~That was like hours ago. Since when do you keep grudges?~

It was exactly ten minutes ago. Though he was right, I didn't keep grudges without good reason and this was hardly it. I just found our bantering amusing, and liked playing it up a bit.

~Same difference.~ he woofed.

"I feel like I'm intruding on a lover's quarrel even though I have no clue as to what has just gone down between you two," Granuaile cut into our silent standoff.

"Sorry," I apologized for leaving her out of the loop. It was easy to forget sometimes that she couldn't hear him.

~Sorry,~ Oberon repeated, after going up to her and bumping his head into her thigh.

"I'm sorry too. It's just a saying, you know?" she correctly guessed the gist of the issue, placating him with a good rub under his chin.

~Now I do. Still discriminative to dogs though. Why do horses have to be the healthy ones?~ he cocked his head to the side with a mixture of hurt and puzzled look on his face. Whoever assumed that dogs weren't capable of the full range of human emotions were complete and utter idiots.

"That's just how language evolved. A horse is seen as a symbol of strength and physical capacity, hence the expression. Though I gotta say if you took 'being sick as a dog' literally from a British standpoint, you would imply that you vomited, ate it, then went about your day like nothing happened," I contributed with the day's fun fact trivia.

"Ew," was Granuaile's concise opinion. Ah, her reactions sometimes were worth every effort.

~Oh. It makes sense, I really do stuff like that sometimes,~ Oberon agreed, coming to peace with the fact that dogs were sometimes disgusting indeed so no wonder that humans made up offensive collocations about them.

"I know," I added with a wink just to tease him back a bit.

"Remind me to never ask for etymology lessons from you when we eat, sensei," she made a face then placed the remaining half of the toast back on her plate.


After her momentary loss of appetite Granuaile did finish her toast and drank all of her tea, even gave my "goo", as she began to call the cough syrup, another go. I, on the other hand, was progressively feeling more and more like a shivering pile of turd. The thing with virus infections is that it always gets worse before it gets better. Cura-Tea could only speed the process along and maybe alleviate the brunt of the symptoms but the fever for example was there for a reason. Even my druidic healing relied on it right now, because this was the primary fighting mechanism of the immune system against intruders. Burn them alive, bitch!

"Sensei, you really don't need to keep watch on me. You should go lie down in bed too. That sofa can't comfortable," Granuaile brought up that valid point around 8 PM when I had started to doze off again.

~Clever Girl has a point,~ Oberon agreed with her.

But truth of the matter was that I was still in better shape than her. I wasn't even sniffling, whereas she was consuming tissues at an alarming rate. We might be out soon. But that would mean a trip into town to buy some a store. Ugh. I don't want to.

"Or if you really don't want to go, I can share. The bed is big enough for the both of us," she added a few minutes later when she realized I wouldn't be answering her because I was busy spacing out. No need to say, that one quickly got my attention. I gulped, trying not to look too eager. Quick, Atticus, think of something, anything. You need an excuse because this will be real awkward otherwise.

Granuaile noticed my hesitation but instead of trying to persuade me with words she just snuggled into the blanket, a few content moans escaping her, demonstrating that there was no greater place to be at the moment.

I decided to be strong and do the right thing: exit the situation. Unfortunately that plan greatly relied on the cooperation of my muscles. If this is what my dear apprentice had meant under the sluggishness she felt yesterday, it was a miracle she was able to block half of my hits during our sparring. Or maybe I was just being a big ass baby about the whole thing. Men tend to do that.

I tried to push myself up from my half sitting, curled up position from the sofa but gravity won over the half-hearted effort. The siren in the bed quirked her brow at me amusedly and moved over so that I wouldn't even have to go around the bed if I decided to join her. Way too damn tempting.

"How's the fever?" I inquired instead about her health as a diversion from mine until I worked up the determination to go to my own room. I had a pretty good assessment on all her other symptoms via audiovisual input.

"Back at you, sensei," she quipped but reached for the thermometer anyway, winding me up further by putting it in her mouth way more sensually than necessary.

"Mine's just dandy," I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look away. Actually I could feel it creeping higher as the hours went on.

"101.8," Granuaile informed me, then settled back down, seemingly intent on going to sleep.

"All right, good night. Don't hesitate to wake me if something's wrong," I mind over mattered my unwilling body towards the door.

~Should I go with you?~ Oberon asked helpfully.

No, stay, see you in the morning.

I had to make a pit stop in the bathroom. All that tea had a rather generous effect on my kidney function. Saying I was unsteady on my feet was as understatement. I didn't even bother with the lights and was asleep the moment I somehow managed to wobblingly make my way to my bed, even before my head hit the pillow.


Waking up to something cold and wet touching your forehead can be startling. Especially when you couldn't really tell which way was up or down. I sat up, arms flailing, trying to push whatever had disturbed me out of my face. In the process I almost knocked Granuaile over who grabbed onto my hand to avoid landing hard on her bum.

"Shh, it's okay, no one's out to get you," she tried to calm me down with a soothing tone which was kind of foiled by the fact that she had coughed her vocal cords rough.

I slowly put the picture together. Nighttime, fever, cold washcloth. I must have been rambling in sleep, about paranoid ideas surely. But what was Granuaile doing out of bed? Sometimes I really think she is telepathically inclined, or I must have spoken that question aloud.

"I just had to use the ladies' room. You on the other hand were having a feverish nightmare," my apprentice explained in a serene, patient tone as if she was talking to a child. In a sense she was. I quickly tried to shove down any and all manchild tendencies I might or might not have when ill.

Granuaile sat down on her ankles beside my bed on the carpet, waiting for some sort reply that I was okay.

"Sensei…" she trailed off, hesitant to ask something. "It might be a stupid question, and I get that I have to suffer through this, but you have your tattoos, why don't you just kick your healing into gear and get this over with for yourself?"

"I'm already doing that," I smiled at her encouragingly, because I made it my policy to never suppress her curiosity or questions about anything. "Hence the fever. I'd say by tomorrow afternoon I'll be good as new."

On that note I remembered that I will need to go outside in the morning to recharge my bear charm, which I had been drawing small amounts on continuously since the afternoon.

"Oh, okay," she accepted that, maybe even felt a bit relieved that she hadn't doomed me to who knew how many days of misery. She awkwardly placed the cloth back onto my forehead then shakily stood back up to return to her own room, followed by a round of coughs and shivering despite her bathrobe.

And all I wanted was for her to stay and cuddle with me. Pathetic. But I still couldn't stop myself.

"Granuaile?" I lifted my head up to look her in the eye, the fever definitely making me way too brave.

"Yeah?" her dark hair fell elegantly from her shoulder as she turned, her eyes searching mine, as if looking at my bare soul.

"Stay?" there was so much more meaning behind that one small word than I could ever convey in a hundred other, and I wasn't sure if I was hoping that she would get it, or if I wished that she didn't.

"Sure," Granuaile replied without hesitation and made herself comfortable on the other side of my bed.

Oberon, bless his heart, might have had a suspicion about the war I was waging with myself and hopped onto the bed between us, effectively creating an impenetrable wall.

Not that I had the energy to do anything even if there wasn't one.

Link to comment
On 2016. 10. 06. at 3:37 AM, 20andsickfic said:

this is amazing!!!!!

I'm glad you liked it :)

The next part might not make sense in some aspects with the previous happenings because on another site someone pointed out some inconsistencies with the timeline of the original works, so I had rewrite some stuff. Basically Atticus's tattoo is damaged on his hand so he can't actually heal right now. (I can't edit my posts...) This actually makes some stuff more intense and interesting in my opinion (evil laugh... I don't know why I like to make them suffer XD ) Enjoy!

 

Gods below! Why is the bed shaking? I thought when I was startled out of my slumber. Oh, right, Granuaile was supposed to have sleeping beside me, but instead she was sitting up, trying to keep her lung spasms to a minimum, probably for my sake.

"Don't hold it back like that, you need to let the gunk come up from your lungs," I told her sleepily, rubbing at my eyes, trying to focus on her in the weak light that the bedside lamp provided.

"You mean the yellowish-greenish stuff is a good thing?" she turned to me when she found a little respite in the onslaught.

"Well, no, but the fact that it's leaving your body is," I clarified, propping myself on my elbows as I watched her.

"And here was I thinking it was getting worse. I've been coughing so much," her green eyes flickered back with disgust at the tissue she had been holding against her mouth until now, crumpling it to be thrown away later when she got the chance.

"If it's already productive then you are on the right track, but if you want we can try a massage type technique to help break up the mucus further," or if it takes a turn for worse I could still ask an elemental to heal her up. But that was a last resort, I really didn't want to abuse Gaia's power for something that should resolve on its own with some careful monitoring and the right herbs. Not to mention that the elemental will want a favor in return.

I know I promised her a visit to a doctor in two days' time, if she still wasn't improving, but the truth of the matter is that I was never too fond of modern medicine. For one, most of the methods used were too artificial for my liking, and being stuck in their all too white and disinfectant smelling wards, cut off from the earth was just a horrifying prospect for a druid. Especially when I could do a much better and more efficient job of it through my healing bindings. That is, if they weren't a mess right now.

"I always marvel at how knowledgeable you are," Granuaile interrupted my internal musings with a smile of wonder and fondness, and yet again I had to fight off some primal urges with some baseball.

"Well, I had several lifetimes to pick this all up," I sighed, letting myself back onto the pillow, because I felt about as powerful at the moment as a flying fleck of dustmote. I couldn't fight my way out of a paper bag even if I tried.

"Yeah, you are such an old fart," she giggled, which triggered her coughing again.

"You wound me," I grabbed at my heart melodramatically, but I really didn't mind coming off as old sometimes. I made an effort to keep up with times, so usually only those really close to me got to see a side of me that hinted at the vast experience under my belt. And over the past two thousand years there weren't many who could have counted themselves among those. Granuaile's questions and her uncertainty told me she didn't have much of experience with severe respiratory infections. Not that I minded that. The last thing I wished for her was suffering. "You never had pneumonia before, have you?"

"No. I don't think I've ever been this sick my entire life. If you don't count the massive case of diarrhea my whole family had to suffer through when I was nine because my mom couldn't tell that the chicken she was going to cook was way past the expiration date," she frowned and shuddered at the memory. Food poisoning was nasty I had to give her that.

"I… really didn't want to know that," I teased her for the TMI she had revealed in her moment of oversharing, earning myself a surprisingly hard punch in the shoulder. "Ow. Be gentle, I'm still sick here too."

"You are such an ass sometimes," Granuaile huffed with a roll of her eyes, but I could tell she wasn't that angry with me.

~Break it up you two, the hound is trying to sleep here,~ Oberon decided this was the best moment to wake up and interrupt our "fight".

"Oh, I'm sorry, were we interrupting something?" I quirked my brow at his irritated tone.

~Yeah, a nice dream of sausage heaven and a horde of poodles attending to all my wishes,~ he grumbled, closing his eyes again, trying to continue with his dream where he had left off when Granuaile suddenly sneezed loudly and wetly into her hands, effectively knocking sleep out of Oberon for good. He hopped off from the bed with a string of mental whines about a lost paradise.

"Ah, boogers," my apprentice cursed, it coming out oddly British and applicable in a literal sense too. "I'm out of clean tissues," she mumbled embarrassedly when she realized her predicament. She tried to shake off the covers, probably wanting to fetch more without having to touch anything, but I halted her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Stay, I'll go get you some," I offered, despite the fact that sitting up so suddenly had my head spinning in vertigo for a moment.

"Nah, I think I should just go back to my own bed, all the other stuff is there anyway," she dismissed me, slipping out from my side purposefully now. With some trouble she managed to open the door with her elbow and shuffled out of the room unsteadily, before I could formulate a response.


Once the patterns on the wallpaper decided to stay in their rightful place I managed to haul myself out of bed too and tidied up the place a bit, collecting the used tissues. I somehow made it to the bathroom without falling over and disposed of them in the trash can in there, then relieved my bladder before washing my hands. No need to increase the chance of getting a bacterial infection on top of the flu like Granuaile. But that might be a moot point now that I have invited her to sleep with me. What the hell was I thinking really? And not from a contagion standpoint. Although not a favorable outcome, I couldn't care less about that. Clearly my fever muddled brain had no sense of propriety.

Speaking of fevers, I was reminded of mine being still high as I shivered violently from the cold touch of the bathroom tiles, followed closely by a sneeze of my own. Just great. I was hoping to avoid this part of the experience, but evidently my immune system was not quite up to the task of handling this virus even with the added help of the Cura-Tea. Returning to my room I slipped on some socks – something I almost never wear – slippers, and a thick wool sweater before going to the kitchen to make a new batch of the tea, because even if it wasn't as effective as I hoped it would be, it was still speeding the process along quite admirably. At least for Granuaile it sure did.

On my way there I heard Granuaile having another round of coughing fits and I had to admit that it was no wonder she thought she wasn't improving. She sounded horrible. That is when another remedy popped into my mind, making me question why I hadn't thought of it earlier. From my supply of herbs I quickly made a paste – very similar to Tiger Balm – that I could apply to her chest and back to ease the clearing of her lungs and the vapors of which should help with her sinuses too.

Once I started crushing the camphor and menthol into the salve, I got to experience the benefits of it too. Maybe a bit too well. My nose twitched and after one sharp inhale I simply could not stop sneezing. I buried my nose into my elbow to cover them and also to try and block out the strong aroma that set me off, but to no avail. I had to actually sit down to avoid passing out.

~Wow, that's definitely not something to be sneezed at, Atticus,~ Oberon trotted in to see what was going on with a pun ready. ~See what I did there?~ his tongue lolled out with proud satisfaction at his command of the English language.

Well done, I managed to relay through our mental link, since I still couldn't catch my breath enough to speak and the smallest shift in the air around me set me off again.

~I think I deserve a sausage for it, what do you think?~ he enthused, but his mental note quickly changed to one of worry when I didn't respond. ~Are you alright?~

Just a minute.

It's funny how you can't think about anything else while your body expels foreign particles from your nasal passages with spastic expulsions of air. Nor keep your eyes open for that matter. By the time I was finished I probably sneezed like thirty times. Damn exhausting. My abs got a great work out though, so I've got that going for me.

When I finally resurfaced I noticed Granuaile standing at the archway leading into the kitchen with a wildly amused expression on her face. I actually blushed from her gaze. But then she didn't comment on it, and instead redirected her attention to the counter. Although that grin never left her features.

"What are you working on?" my apprentice asked, taking a few steps to take a closer look. I wanted to warn her not to smell it if she wanted to avoid my earlier episode but she was there before I could utter the words. And then, surprisingly, nothing happened. "Oh, is this one of those chest rub vapor creams? That's so sweet of you," she commented, glancing my way enrapturedly. Or maybe I was just imaging that. Either way her eyes shined with immense gratitude for me when she came to sit down at the table by my side.

"Yeah, but it's…" unfortunately that also meant she brought a new wave of the scent along with her, making my breath hitch. "It's not… ready yet," I managed to finish before sneezing another round.

"Either way, it's working already I see," Granuaile's lips quivered as she watched me, and she covered her mouth, not wanting to actually laugh out loud at my suffering.

"I'm not usually this sensitive to camphor," I told her after finally the fit ended. "I'm surprised it isn't setting you off."

"Well, it probably would, if I could actually smell anything at the moment," she pondered aloud. "You really don't need to push yourself to finish it, if it's just making you miserable."

"Nah, I'll be fine in a few minutes when I get used to it," I waved her concern off. Then Oberon sneezed.

~I'm outta here,~ my hound hightailed out of the area with the strong and irritating smells.

Sorry, buddy, I told him, then I was probably busy spacing out because the next thing I knew was Granuaile putting her hand against my forehead.

"What's your verdict?" I asked with a mischievous smile, throwing her own words back at her from yesterday.

"I can't really tell, my own hands are too warm," she shrugged. "But you should be in bed that's for sure."

"Same for you," I pointed out. It was just before dawn, and the reddish orange hue was already visible on the horizon from the window, illuminating her features. She looked pale and weary, but still as gorgeous as a goddess. "Go on, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Alright," she agreed, but when she pushed herself up on the table she lost her balance and almost face planted the kitchen tiles in a spectacular fashion.

I caught her with one arm and instantly realized that I wouldn't able to hold her up. All I managed to accomplish was pulling her towards me as I fell off my chair too. She landed on top of me, so at least hopefully she didn't bruise herself and I quickly muttered the bindings in Old Irish to boost my strength. I'll be needing that if I wanted to get up from the floor.

"Sorry, head rush," she mumbled her unnecessary apology, all flustered by my close proximity. I had that problem too.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, getting lost in her emerald eyes.

"No. Are you?" she breathed, her eyes flickering between mine before suddenly backing off from me, as if realizing that she was crossing some sort of line.

"I'm fine," I lied, and my wince quickly gave me away as I sat up. The left side of my hips got pretty banged up.

"That didn't sound fine," Granuaile sternly pointed out.

"Just a contusion, no biggie," I told her as I got to my feet. I bent down to pick her up, now fully capable of carrying her weight despite my ill health thanks to the druid magic. I didn't bother with shutting down the pain. I've had worse. Much, much worse. I needed to conserve my magic anyway. "Let's get you to bed."

Granuaile blushed in my arms, and I quickly realized how wrong that sounded in the context of our earlier exchange, but decided not to comment on it. There were holes you could only dig yourself deeper into if you tried to get out.


I left her in her room without another word and rushed back into the kitchen to finish what I've started, very careful to only breathe through my mouth. Once the ingredients dissolved in the paste, and I set the appropriate bindings on it, the scent of the herbs weren't as strong anymore and I could handle them without having to fear an unstoppable sneezing fit.

By the time I was finished I could feel the bear charm running low on magic, since I had used it all to keep myself upright. I searched the cabinets for more tissues, for myself now too, but hadn't found any. A trip to town was inevitable it seemed. I needed to go outside to replenish my charm anyway.

I brought the tea and vapor rub to Granuaile. The tension was still in the air between us, making my entering quite awkward.

"Do you need anything from the store besides tissues?" I inquired as I set down the mugs and container from the tray onto the one already there.

"Fruit maybe for breakfast, or anything else we are missing from groceries," she pondered aloud. "But you don't need to go right away. Sit down and catch your breath."

Granuaile had a point there.

~I agree with Clever Girl,~ Oberon returned among us once he smelled that the peril of scents were gone. ~You look like shit, and believe me, I can tell. I've seen my fair share of those.~

I slumped down into the sofa and dispelled the strength bindings since I didn't need them at moment, and they were just draining my magic storage. My side was still throbbing but I pointedly ignored it. Same with Oberon's jabs. Instead I leaned back against the head rest, closing my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew was a blanket being thrown over my shoulders.

"Thanks," I croaked gratefully, pulling it closer around myself.

"Maybe going to the store isn't such a good idea," Granuaile mused out loud as she settled back into her bed.

I whole-heartedly concurred, but we really didn't have anyone to rely on to do it for us. Given that basically anyone we knew thought we were dead. Well, the Morrigan and Coyote were aware of our not so deadness, but it's not like I could call on them for a grocery run. Not that I wanted to anyway. Either choice would have come at a greater price than I was willing to give. Coyote had tricked me enough times already. His help always came with a nasty twist. And the Chooser of the Slain? Her services would surely come with rough and painful sex that I was really not up for at the moment. Would probably take me weeks to recover from in my current condition. Definitely a no-no.

I could call my attorneys I guess. Hal Hauk would probably send Greta, a member of the Tempe Pack, to deliver from the other side of the state. Though she already hated my guts. Worth a try, even if I wasn't too eager to deal with condescending werewolves at the moment. I fished my phone out from my pocket while Granuaile watched me intently, trying to figure out what I was doing.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" came the grumpy greeting from the phone once Hal picked up after the fifth ring. Oops. It wasn't even 6 AM yet.

"Sorry to wake you so early, Mr. Hauk. It's Sterling Silver," I know, don't even ask. It was Coyote who chose our identities. Granuaile snorted, an automatic reaction she still got even after five months, then started coughing, which no doubt Hal could hear.

"You sound like your vocal cords went through a meat grinder," my werewolf attorney noted with a hum. "Betty doesn't sound much better either."

Granuaile's cover identity provided just as much source of merriment. Coyote decided to call her Betty Baker.

"Yeah, that's why I was calling. I need a favor. We really need a grocery run, but neither of us are up for it at the moment," I confessed.

"Why don't you just… you know… heal yourself up?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to reveal anything suspicious over the phone. Who knew who was listening in?

"Can't. Hand got marred by a giant locust," only the Morrigan could fix that by touching up my tattoos since I was the only Druid alive, and she was the only one of the Tuatha Dé Danann who knew of the fact that I was still among the living. I shuddered again at the thought of meeting her.

"I see. Send me the list and someone will get it to you in a few hours," Hal said finally, relenting to his role of errand boy with a sigh.

"Much appreciated," I tried to squeeze as much gratitude into those two words as I could.

"Yeah, yeah, save your breath," he hung up on me while muttering about wasted time and effort on law degrees.

"Problem solved," I told Granuaile after typing up the grocery list in a text message to Hal, snuggling back under the blanket.

Before I could fall asleep again I heard fabric ruffling and a second later my apprentice was standing before with the mug of tea in hand.

"Drink up," she commanded me, picking up her own to carefully sip on too. Despite the pneumonia she looked quite energetic. Definitely better than yesterday.

"How are you doing it?" I inquired suddenly.

"How am I doing what?"

"Being up and about," I personally just wanted to curl up and die.

"I don't know. I guess you just push through," she shrugged.

Pushing through for me usually meant activating a few bindings – strength, speed, shutting down the pain, quick topical healing, depending on the situation – until I could finally lie down on my right side, connected to the earth so that I could heal properly. Unfortunately the latter part of either was not an option right now. I had to conclude that I was too reliant on my druidic powers. Granuaile was stronger than me in more ways than one.

"Sensei? When was the last time you had to deal with infections… you know the regular way?" her raised brow told me all I had to know about her opinion regarding the way I handled being ill.

"Uhm…" I had to actually think about it, it was so long ago. That part of my tattoo had never been damaged before, so that would mean the time when I was still a druid initiate. "Before the birth of Christianity."

"Hmpf," was all her reaction to that. I really wanted to know what she was thinking, but didn't dare to ask. One thing was for sure, I just lost major mojo points in her eyes.

Granuaile proceeded to drink the cough syrup after she finished her tea, then began applying the vapor rub to her chest… and I just couldn't look away.

~Down boy,~ Oberon chuffed at me. Granuaile looked up at the sound and I quickly averted my eyes, but I think I was caught. I wonder how Daniel Hudson was training for next season…

"Could you do my back, please?" my apprentice asked despite my blatant staring just a few seconds ago.

And suddenly I was pumped with ardor and energy to push myself up from the sofa to shuffle over to her bed. Blankets and all, but that small exposure to the room's temperature still left me shivering.

~Aren't you just hanker to wanker?~ my hound kept laughing at my eagerness.

When a lady asks for help, you help, I tried to justify myself to him, but he wasn't buying it.

~Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that.~

"When was the last time you took your temperature?" Granuaile asked me, oblivious to my mental frowning at Oberon, when she noticed my trembling.

"Yesterday late afternoon," I replied, concentrating very hard to not let my thoughts wander from the immediate task at hand. The skin on her back was so flawless and soft, all I wanted was to run my hands over it… Shit… Strike out! Strike out!

"Lie down," she ordered me when we were finished and she pulled her shirt back down. I complied.

My apprentice spied the extra thermometer on the bedside table by the tray and handed it to me, drawing the right conclusion that it was there for me.

"The reading will be off, I just drank hot tea," I shook my head at her. Still not a good idea, I realized, and groaned as the dizziness hit me.

"Armpits work just as fine," she insisted, shoving the instrument towards me again.

"Actually that's not really a reliant place to take body temperature," why I had the urge to correct her I had no idea, but her next sentence made me regret it instantly.

"You want me to stick it in your ass? Because I will," my apprentice declared with a serious face and I really couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

The statement was so unexpected that I made a little sound of fright. Not that I wouldn't be up for experimenting… but not with a thermometer.

"Armpit's fine," I mumbled in a squeaky voice – masculinity be damned – eyes wide. Granuaile was thoroughly enjoying my reaction. Oberon too.

~That's right, Clever Girl, stick it to him!~

Whose side are you on? I mentally asked as I took the thermometer from Granuaile and began taking my temperature. In my armpit!

~The side that provides more entertainment,~ he replied nonchalantly.

"Traitor…" seriously, I couldn't even imagine what would be going on once these two could communicate with each other telepathically.

"What?" my apprentice looked at me with a puzzled expression.

Oops, I muttered that one out loud.

"Just Oberon," I sighed, nestling further into the blankets, my mood taking a sour turn.

Out of the blue Granuaile ran her hands through my hair, trying to tuck my curly locks out of my face. The gesture was really loving, in a sort of maternal way, and I had no doubt that, if she wanted children, she would become an excellent mother one day.

I closed my eyes and hummed contentedly, which made her giggle. God, I loved that sound.

The thermometer beeped and Granuaile fished it out from under my shirt faster than the speed of lightning. Or I was just so sluggish that she lost patience waiting for me to take it out myself. Moments later hers beeped too. I haven't even realized that she started taking her own temperature too.

Instead of revealing the reading she got out of bed, put on her thick robe and left the room, doing who knew what. She really should be staying in bed though. My runny nose was starting to bother me, and I blearily tried to find a clean tissue. We had maybe a handful of them left so it was good thing that provisions were on the way. I blew my nose then curled up, trying to warm myself up.

A wet washcloth startled me out of a half-asleep state.

"Shh, sleep some more," Granuaile soothingly whispered to me. I vaguely registered Oberon trying to tell me something, but a second later I was out cold.


Loud knocking on our front door woke me next, who knew how much later, and Granuaile was quickly out of bed to open it before I could even register the need to do so. She beckoned Oberon to follow her out, probably to have someone to lean onto if she got unsteady on her feet.

"Making me do grocery shopping for you is a real dick move…" I could hear Greta's disgruntled bitching through the hallway. She probably was intending those words for me and wasn't looking at the door when it opened because a second later she started apologizing. "Oh, sorry, I thought he was going to open the door."

"No, we are the ones sorry for making you do it, but we really would have been in a pinch without you," my apprentice diplomatically replied. It was a smart move to placate the angry werewolf. There was some shuffling around, the door closing.

"So where is he?" Greta asked louder this time, probably wanting to goad me into showing myself.

"Sleeping. He had a fever of 104.1 this morning, so please keep it down," Granuaile told her, her voice firm, yet non-threatening at the same time. And it seemed to do the trick.

"Oh, I thought Hal was joking. Isn't he supposed to heal fast? Druid magic and shit?" she asked conspiratorially, the volume of her voice a few notches lower as they moved into the kitchen.

"The part of the tattoo on his hand that allows him to do that got messed up a few months ago, so in this regard he is just as human as me until he gets it fixed," the redhead sighed, and judging from the noise, started putting away the groceries.

"No, no, no, let me," the werewolf was suddenly in a helpful mood. "How are you, by the way?"

"Been… better…" the air caught in Granuaile's throat the wrong way and she had to cough. Screeching of a chair against the floor, someone sitting down.

"Nasty cough you've got there," Greta noted.

"Yeah, pneumonia," more coughing followed that.

"Shouldn't you in bed then?" I could practically hear the quirking of her brows in that statement. Probably condemning me too for not taking better care of my apprentice. I could feel the guilt ferrets starting to crawl along my neck. Guilt ferrets were bastards like that. And there was no amount of rationale or logic that could scare them away.

"I will be… in a sec…" Granuaile gasped for breath, doubling over in another painful fit. Oberon woofed once, alerting our guest to something.

"Woah there girl, don't push yourself too hard," Greta hurried over to her before she fell out of the chair.

"I don't want to get you sick," my apprentice protested, in all likelihood trying to keep Greta at an arm's length.

"I won't. Perks of the wolf," the pack member chuckled, patting the sick girl on her back lightly until she finally stopped coughing.

"Thanks for getting all this," Granuaile said after she regained control over her breathing.

"Oh, I almost forgot, there is chicken broth in one of the containers," Greta informed her. That wasn't even on my list, but a very good idea. I wasn't sure who thought of it, her or Hal.

"You are a life saver, Greta," her voice radiated gratitude and I could almost see her accompanying smile in my mind.

"Don't mention it," she waved her off. I never would have gotten such lax response from her. Though I could understand. Her alfa, Gunnar Magnusson, died while we were fighting in Asgard. In her mind it was all my fault, even if he was the one – and Leif Halgerson, my formerly other attorney (a vampire by the way who has ghouls on his speed dial) – insisting on the whole endeavor, wanting to kill Thor. "Will you be alright if I leave now?"

"Yes, thank you again."

"Okay, get well soon then," the wolf said, then the front door opened and closed again. We were alone in the house once more.

A few moments of silence followed, only Oberon's nails clicking against the tiles could be heard, him bustling around my apprentice worriedly.

"I really am fine, just give me a second," Granauile spoke breathlessly to my hound. "Want to go see if Atticus is up?"

A single, affirmative bark was the reply.

The redheaded siren got up with a tired grunt then shambled slowly back towards the bedroom.

"Hey, there," she smiled at me when she noticed that my eyes were open.

"Hey," I repeated, wincing as I tried to shift my weight.

~Atticus! You returned to the land of the living!~ Oberon trotted up to me with wildly wagging tail, in his enthusiasm giving me a wet willy with his tongue. Doggie kisses were usually of this sort.

How long have I been out? I inquired from him as I scratch him behind his ear.

~For like two days!~ he confidently replied. Wrong person to ask.

"How long have I been out?" I echoed the question out loud just as Granuaile sat down on the bed beside me, looking thoroughly spent.

~Hey! You don't believe me?~ disbelief and hurt leaked into my consciousness from him.

I do, buddy, but your sense of time is really skewed. I smiled at him, placating him with another good rub.

"Four hours or so. Greta just left," Granuaile informed me after a quick glance at the clock. It had completely slipped my mind that we had one in here.

"Yeah, I heard."

"We have tissues!" she lifted the box with forced enthusiasm.

"Good to hear," I acknowledged with a small smile.

"How do you feel?" my sweet apprentice was concerned about me when she herself was hacking up a lung. Aren't I the luckiest guy… khm… I mean archdruid… in the world?

"Actually a bit better," I was drenched in sweat, so the fever must have broken.

"Check your fever, okay? You really scared me earlier," she implored, handing the thermometer to me again.

"Aye, aye, Captain," I complied instantly with a salute. If my temp taken from the armpit was a 104.1 then my core temp was surely higher. I couldn't fault her for worrying. But that probably also meant that she didn't get more sleep and had been up all this time watching over me. "How about you?"

"Like shit. I really shouldn't have gotten out of bed so much," Granuaile confessed, rubbing her temples. She must have a headache from all hard coughing.

"Then lie down, it's my turn to take care of you," I patted the empty space on her side.

"Yeah, I think I'll do that," she clambered over my legs and got herself under the covers, but as soon as she lay down she started coughing again, more intensely than ever.

I helped her up and she desperately grabbed for some tissues. It really seemed to go on forever. Then she finally let her hands down from her mouth and glanced down.

"Oh god," she mumbled frightenedly.

I looked down too and saw small splatters of blood among the mucus in the tissue. And this is when the guilt ferrets really gave me their all

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Hi! So this is the last installment to this little (or not so little, depending on your point of view) fic about my current favorites. Feel free to let me know what you thought about it!

~Atticus! What's going on? I smell blood!~ Oberon whipped his head up, similarly alarmed as I was.

I know. Okay, think, don't panic, probably just a small vein that popped in her airways from the harsh coughing. There wasn't that much blood for it to be anything worse at the moment. But it could get worse. Much worse. Damn I wanted to take the last 48 hours all back, more than ever.

Skip the late night training session in the cold, pay more attention to her health, take her to a doctor the moment she suggested it. Or better yet, just get over my hypercritical high-horse and ask Colorado – the elemental of this area (they are usually referred to among druids based on the region they oversee and we were currently on the Colorado Plateau that stretched across large parts of four states, including Arizona near Flagstaff) – to heal the druid along with his initiate.

Yes, that was exactly what I was ought to be doing. I had thought of this before, dammit, and honestly this was hardly a joking matter anymore. Not that it ever was. A sense of dread filled me at the prospect of losing her to something as banal as the flu. I muttered the bindings for the strength enhancements, praying that the remainder of my magic would last until we got outside where I could juice up again. I got out of bed in haste, gathering Granuaile in my arms and making my way quickly towards our backdoor.

"Where are we going?" she asked in a startled small voice, but she put her arms around my neck nonetheless to help me as much as she could with supporting her weight.

My magic ran out wee two steps from the bare earth off our porch and my knees almost buckled under me but somehow I managed to make it there with the both of us without dropping Granuaile. The midmorning air at this elevation was still a bit chilly, maybe 45 degrees or so it being early December, and both of us shivered violently as it hit us.

I yanked my slipper and sock off of my right foot after setting my apprentice down on the bottom step, her feet touching the ground too. Being as sharp as she was she followed suit in baring her feet so that she could have a direct connection with earth too, since the elemental would need that to heal her.

The moment the tattoo on my right heel touched the earth I felt the loving caress of Gaia and felt much better instantly, despite the fact that no healing had been done on me yet whatsoever. The serenity it provided merely eased my woes until I could contact the elemental.

I called out to Colorado in my Latin headspace, communicating through a syntax of images and emotions about the urgency of our situation, since they didn't use human language. It translated to something like this:

/Druid calling Colorado / Druid and initiate need healing / Please/

A few short moments later the answer came.

/Colorado comes / Healing Druid and Druidchild/

I smiled fondly at the title. Sonora, another elemental, started calling Granuaile that and it seemed that the others have caught onto it. I instantly felt the infection lessening, the bacteria and viruses plaguing my immune system getting destroyed. My apprentice sighed in appreciation, no doubt feeling similar effects. She would still be coughing up a bit of phlegm for the rest of the day, but she was practically good as new, or at least she would be in a few minutes.

/Gratitude / Harmony/ I relayed to the elemental.

/Harmony/ he… she – Granuaile fought me hard to refer to them as females though they were genderless – replied.

"Oh, shoot, I don't have her marble with me," my apprentice exclaimed in realization as she fumbled around her pajama and robe pockets. Since she wasn't bound to the earth yet she needed a piece of the elemental, a little sphere of rock from the area, to speak with them. She usually kept the ones she already had in her jeans at all times so that she could communicate with them if the need arose.

/Druidchild wishes to thank Colorado/ I told the elemental for her.

A new ball of stone formed at her feet and she picked it up with a huge smile on her face.

"Remember, use your Latin headspace," I instructed. She had been learning the language for a few months now, her progress was really remarkable. Dividing her consciousness into headspaces was a necessity as a druid, so that she could compartmentalize and do several things at once, even when pain or other distractions were… well, distracting her… in battle for instance. It could very well mean the difference between life and death. Not to mention if she used Latin solely for this purpose, she could avoid accidentally calling out to elementals and thus annoying them.

"I know," she threw me an irritated glance, not needing the reminder. She concentrated and relayed her message with a sense of wonder and appreciativeness on her face.

While she did that I quickly recharged my bear charm, just in case. The earth was so good to me. I'm not sure what I would have done without it.

/Contamination in lake / Query: Help?/ Colorado asked me after they were done, Granuaile letting the extra sphere to sink back into the earth.

/Query: Where?/ I knew there would be some sort of payment required in exchange for the healing, but thankfully this seemed like a simple matter to sort out.

She showed me the image of the area and I knew exactly the place near Colorado City she was talking about, just short of three hours of drive away.

/Druid help / Harmony/

/Harmony/

Granuaile chuckled with a shake of her head.

"We really could have just jumped to this yesterday," she said, but there was no accusation in her tone.

"Sorry," dammit, guilt ferrets everywhere.

"Don't worry, I understand. You don't want to call on the earth if it isn't absolutely necessary," she mused, looking into the distance, very much at peace and in harmony with the earth. I hoped she would never lose this profound giddiness she felt. She was breathtakingly beautiful in that moment. But unfortunately being a druid was more than just a serene connection to Gaia. Sometimes there was battle and gore, and that had an annoying habit to kill positive feelings.

Healthy or no, the air was still cool around us, so after a few minutes I beckoned Granuaile inside.

"Take it easy for the rest of the day, I have something to take care of for Colorado," I told her. She stood with ease, her energy fully restored now that the fever wasn't bothering her anymore. Her breathing was still a bit heavy from the fluid buildup, but the linings of her lungs should be all healed up, including that popped blood vessel that scared us so.

"I think I will continue memorizing Whitman," my apprentice declared, determined to make up for lost time, since this she could do while relaxing in bed or on the couch in the living room.

That was the body of work she chose to commit to memory for her English headspace. For each language she learned she could chose a purpose, Old Irish for bindings, Latin for speaking with elementals. Memorizing the entire works of poets or writers in others would allow her to bring along other people with herself when she shifted planes. Provided she knew the person well enough.

She went inside and I pondered on my options. I could take the car and drive up there, or shift into an owl to make my way there faster, but that had certain drawbacks. Given that the lake was fairly close to urban area and I couldn't take my clothes with me in that form I decided to stay as is. I could have camouflaged myself, tying my pigments to those of the background, after shifting back to avoid flashing the good people of the city with some frontal nudity, but it wasn't really worth the trouble.

Want to come with me? I asked Oberon after blowing my nose one last time. Oh, how happy I was that the experience didn't last any longer.

~Where are we going?~ he got excited instantly.

Just to a little lake up north, you could run around while I finish my assignment.

~I'm in!~ my hound replied enthusiastically, wagging his tail.

As I walked to our car I spied a large crow taking to wing from one of the trees lining the estate. Could it have been the Morrigan? If yes, what was she doing here? The thought chilled me to the bone. Had either of us been in danger of dying had I not had Colorado intervene? As the Celtic Goddess of War and Death she would have been the one to come escort our souls over to Tír na nÓg. By the time I thought of turning on my "faeryspecs", as I liked to call the binding that allowed me to see the magical aspects of my surroundings, the bird was long gone over the horizon.

Banishing the possibility of that dire outcome from my mind I opened the back door for Oberon to hop in.

~Can I get that bonus sausage now for my spectacular pun from three days ago?~ Oberon's tongue lolled out and he started salivating at just the thought of it.

That was only this morning, I chuckled. But sure, buddy.


We stopped by a butcher shop in Colorado City to fulfil my promise of succulent meat products to my hound, and also for me to get a quick lunch, then we set off towards the edge of town where the source of Colorado's worry was.

After carefully examining the water I came to the conclusion that a few barrels of toxic waste were dumped into it, threatening the local wildlife now that the containers started to rust, the chemicals slowly filtering into the water. After identifying the exact make-up of the materials I started to unbind them into harmless chains of carbohydrates and water that the environment could utilize. It would have taken decades for the lake to recover from this pollution otherwise, if at all.

Before I did the same with the barrels, I bound the wall of one to the rocks on the shore and inconspicuously noted the stamps of the company, then unbound those too. They were in for a little surprise from me. I saw a massive drop in shareholder value in their future. I sent a message to the elemental of the job well done and she thanked me earnestly.

A few people milled around the park like area near the shore, giving me weird looks for walking around barefoot in December. That or my lack of coat. I've cast a binding that the Morrigan had taught me to raise my core temperature so I wasn't feeling the chill. The socks and sandals combo wasn't much better either after I finished but I wasn't aiming to be a fashion icon. Thankfully no one noticed anything of my ministrations, the large Irish wolfhound running around tended to draw all the attention.

Some old ladies came to pet Oberon after they discerned that he was friendly and he gladly threw himself on his back to grant them access to his stomach for a good belly rub.

~Yes, yes, I'm a very good hound!~ his exuberant thoughts in response to their cooing leaked into my consciousness.

I was so caught up in the bucolic scenery that I almost jumped out of my skin when someone spoke to me from my right side.

"Aren't you getting a bit unmindful, Siodhachan?" the goddess looked at me suggestively, a bit of sadistic mischief playing around her eyes. She was wearing a thick robe that doubled as a coat if you weren't looking too closely over her milk white skin. But she wasn't wearing anything besides that, not even on her feet.

"Morrigan," I acknowledged her presence as calmly as I could, wondering where my sense of paranoia went, for I should have noticed her before she snuck up on me. I had no idea if she was referring to my momentary lowering of my guard or my massive mess up regarding Granuaile's training that potentially endangered her. "Were you by any chance at our farmhouse earlier?"

"I was."

I thought so.

"May I ask the purpose of your visit?" I gulped, fearing her answer.

"I needed some further advice on befriending the iron elemental," the raven-haired goddess replied. I wasn't expecting that. More like prophecies of death and doom. "But I saw that you were a tad busy."

"Did you feed it faeries like I suggested?" I happily hopped on the subject before she could comment on either Granuaile's or my own health.

"Yes, but then I got impatient and that scared him away," Morrigan sullenly confessed, her brows furrowing.

"I see. All I can really advise is patience and kindness," I reiterated our earlier conversation when she first came to me to help her with achieving a similar protection against magic that I had with the necklace around my neck.

"I am not kind by nature, Druid," she snapped at me, those spooky minor harmonics creeping into her voice, her eyes flashing red that spoke a great deal of her irritation with me. Though I had to wonder if she was more irritated with her own lack of ability to accomplish the seemingly simple task.

"I'm well aware, you are the most terrifying of them all," I tried to placate her, and it worked like a charm, no pun intended, her eyes returned to their natural dark brown shade and she smiled at me in a cruel, perverted way. Being perceived as frightening turned her on! Good to know, even if I didn't intend it that way. "Still the only way to bind that cold iron to your aura is with the help of an iron elemental, and he will only help if he sees you as a friend."

"How am I supposed to act… friendly?" she batted her lashes at me, every way the svelte seductress that she was. I almost leaned in to inhale the alluring scent of her hair when my cold iron necklace thudded against my chest, effectively knocking me out of my haze. I just loved the fact that it protected me from all sorts of magic directed at me.

"Khm… for one, don't threaten it if it's not ready to help you yet," I said after I got back some of clarity in my thoughts. The Morrigan turned her seduction spell off and considered my words with a faraway look in her eyes.

"I will… try," she spoke after a while, unsure if she could actually manage it. It was going against her nature.

"Second, maybe smile without the promise of painful death or sex once in a while, and lay off the red flashing of your eyes," I suggested.

"Ah, but where is the fun in sex without some pain?" the battle crow actually laughed out loud at the idea. Kinky. I knew as much already.

"Steer clear of promises of death and sex all together then. Not like you could do it with the elemental anyway," lucky for the elementals. I tried to sound nonchalant, but truth be told the Morrigan always scared the bejesus out of me.

"I suppose," the goddess shrugged. "You on the other hand..."

"I'm afraid I'm still recovering. I wouldn't be able to keep pace," I protested quickly before she got too attached to the prospect. It wasn't too big of a lie I hoped. One time was well enough with her nine or so months ago. Even though I was grateful that she grew my demon-mangled ear back, that incident led to Brighid, the First of the Fae almost incinerating me because she thought I was in league with the Morrigan against her.

"I am aware. The pestilence in the area has claimed the life of a couple of elderly in the past few weeks. Good thinking in asking the elemental for help," yet again I felt a shiver creep up my spine at the insinuation. "Which reminds me, how is your hand? Are you ready for the tattoo to be touched up?"

I took my right hand out of my pocket, examining the back of it where my marred tattoo was. The tissue and skin was fully healed now, but the process to repair the tattoo required us to connect with Gaia, which took at least a week, in an area with living thorn bushes. I really didn't have the time to be away that long at this point in Granuaile's training. However inconvenient my lack of healing ability was.

"It will have to wait some more," I informed her of my decision. She made a face, but didn't argue with it.

"As you wish, contact me when you are ready," she slinked away between the trees without another word, taking to her crow form and flying away without anyone noticing.

~Was that the scary lady?~ Oberon entered my thoughts. While I wasn't looking the old ladies had moved on to adore someone else's pet.

Yupp. Scary wasn't even beginning to cover it.


On our way home, after I took care of the lake polluting company, we happened to pass by a hospital, and sure enough there were signs posted everywhere warning the populace about the flu epidemic and visiting restrictions.

Oberon had thoroughly enjoyed my shenanigans while we visited the company sites. They will find that many of their manufacturing equipment won't be functional at the start of the next shift. If I weren't camouflaged through the whole endeavor I would have probably looked every bit the environmental activist hippie people sometimes imagined me to be.

The Morrigan's visit had shaken me up quite a bit and only Oberon's unintentional yet very well timed comments were able to pull me back from the downward spiral of mental acrimoniousness. I could practically hear my former archdruid's berating about my recent shambles. 'Ye piece of shite, Siodhachan, how ye managed to fecking cock up this time, for me life I will never know…' or something similar he would say in that condescending, annoyingly high and mighty voice.

~So… I was wondering… is Clever Girl wanting to stick something up your butt part of the human mating rituals?~ he cut into my self-imposed vituperate.

As I said very well timed. If I'd been drinking anything I'd sure have chocked on it, but it effectively made me forget the guilt ferrets for a while.

Where did you get that idea? I raised my brow at him.

~I mean it's natural for us canines to go sniffing around buttholes, but I don't see the appeal in actually getting something in there…~ my hound went onto explain his perplexion.

Me neither, buddy, believe me… I mean not into my own… Gods below, few things were more bizarre than discussing anal with your dog.

~Oh, so is this one of those male shovinistic things?~

You mean male chauvinistic? I interrupted him to correct his pronunciation, even if only I could hear him at the moment.

~Give me a break, non-native speaker here,~ Oberon stared at me flatly in an unimpressed way.

All right, concession given. Where did you hear that word anyway?

~Granuaile said it once, when she complained about her former boyfriend. Apparently he believed that somethings were only meant for men to do. She proved him wrong by pinning him to the ground in a chokehold. He ran away screaming like a little schoolgirl afterwards,~ he revealed in a matter-of-fact manner.

Serves him right, I could imagine the scene clearly in my mind and had to chuckle. Rule number one: Don't mess with the druid initiate. Not that the poor lad had any idea about that.

~So is this one of those things? That only guys can poke around in girls' buttholes and not the other way around?~

That's an interesting way to put it…

Uhm… it's more complicated than that. Depends very much on individual preferences. There, that was quite diplomatic and politically correct.

~See this is why I say human mating rituals are weird. For us it's pretty straight forward. Both of us just take a whiff and know instantly if it will work out,~ Oberon shrugged, already fantasizing about sniffing some black poodles.

Sometimes I do envy you, I relented with a sigh.


As we pulled up to the house, for some reason dread filled me. Maybe I was just jittery from all that's happened, but my sense of paranoia had me sinking my hand into the earth to check on my wards, as soon as I let out Oberon out of the car.

Everything seemed to be fine, every binding in its rightful place, the only person inside presumably my apprentice since she was the only human beside me to whom the protective spells won't react.

Do you hear or smell anything out of place? I checked with Oberon just to make sure. His senses were much keener than mine in human form.

~Cookie dough, lots of it,~ he wagged his tail, a good sign. ~Chocolate chip and cinnamon.~

Huh? Was Granuaile baking? I told her to take it easy. Not to mention that Coyote would have a field day with this. He had tried to goad her into baking in the past, and chose her current alias exactly for this reason to further tease her about her protests.

Okay, let's go inside, I told him since seemingly nothing was amiss.

I stepped through the front door, but it was awfully quiet in the house. Maybe she finished already and was taking a nap? Oberon went right past me, and disappeared into the kitchen.

I checked the bedroom first, but she wasn't there, neither in the living room. Now that we were inside I could smell the sweet aroma of baked goods too. I spied a plate of cookies on the counter, then my heart nearly stopped when I saw Granuaile's prone form on the ground behind the kitchen island. Why didn't Oberon say anything?

"Gods below, please no! Fuck, fuck, fuck…" I panicked as I rushed to her side, checking her vital signs if she was alright.

And then, she snorted, chuckling, unable to keep the pretenses up any longer.

"Not funny!" I exclaimed in dismay, but let out a huge breath of relief as I sat back down on my heels.

"Sure damn is! You should have seen your face!" Granuaile laughed hysterically now.

And you! Were you in on this? I cast a piercing gaze at my hound. He chuffed at me.

~Clever Girl shushed me after we came in,~ he revealed. ~Said it's a prank.~

I got punk'd all right… Ashton Kutcher had nothing on this. When the momentary anger left me fully I buried my face in my right hand, concentrating on my breathing, and reminding myself that history wasn't repeating itself, that this wasn't Cibrán, and we hadn't just traveled more than a thousand years into the past. He was slain just before I could have bound him to the earth.

"Hey, are you crying?" Granuaile inquired, her merriment instantly gone, apprehension taking its place. When I didn't respond, she embraced me in a warm hug. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you would react this way."

~Nice move, playing up the pity card. She'd do anything for you right now,~ Oberon praised me.

I'm not playing up anything, I told him, a bit miffed.

The hug was nice though, I had to admit it. Her perky breasts pressing against my arms were very adept at distracting me from my anguish as she stroked my hair soothingly. Oh, for the love of gods… Baseball! Innings! Home run, or least getting to second base… Argh, this is not helping!

"Khm… I'm fine, really," I pulled away from her with the help of sheer will.

"It brought up some bad memories, didn't it?" she appraised me with watchful eyes.

"Yeah, but I really don't want to get into it right now," I shook my head. I really didn't.

"Okay," Granuaile said finally, getting up from the floor. There was just a hint of hurt in her tone, but she accepted a while ago that sometimes I just wasn't ready to discuss the depressing aspects of my unnaturally prolonged life. "Want some cookies? Cookies make everything better."

"Sure," I gave her a small smile as I pushed myself up too.

We spent the rest of the evening with her reciting Whitman to me, most of it from memory, which was good progress. Meanwhile we enjoyed the fruits of her afternoon labor with some milk. Whether she like it or not, if Betty Baker were to open a bakery with these yummies on stock, they would sell in like two minutes.

And I would be a dead man if I ever voiced those thoughts out loud to her.

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