Just his hand, thank Merlin. It was only a surface cut, as far as Ari could see - although even that was more damage than he had intended to do. But, though he had asked, though it was his job, he couldn’t exactly go over and bandage up the same man he’d just (unwittingly, he supposed, but nevertheless) attacked, now could he? It would be enough to give anyone whiplash.
Ari hesisted for a long moment, then jerked his head in an awkward sort of nod. “A drop of dittany ought to do it,” he instructed from a distance, flicking his wand at one of the storage cabinets in the room until the little stoppered bottle of the healing essence floated out towards Darrow. That would do to knit the cut closed and stop the bleeding.
“And then you’d better go,” Ari said, the tone of that direction hovering oddly between apologetic and obstinate. He felt as though he ought to have gotten his message across better, explained everything Zelda had been through in the months he’d been gone, and what she might be put through again if he found himself in her life again; but, although he did not trust the man in the slightest, he did have the glimmer of an instinct that Darrow hadn’t intended to swan in and screw up Zelda’s whole life without thinking.
And with any luck, he would keep his word and refrain from trying it again. Ari, still clutching his wand firmly, turned towards the door to see the lock click open, and stepped out of Darrow’s path. “And if you go near her again, I won’t be the only one you’ll be answering to,” Ari added grimly for good measure. (Julian might be to blame for this mess, but he could make up for it with his expertise in curses, and Leonid would be a good hand in a proper duel. And Brannon - well - if there was a next time, he was sure to find out eventually.)
Ari hesisted for a long moment, then jerked his head in an awkward sort of nod. “A drop of dittany ought to do it,” he instructed from a distance, flicking his wand at one of the storage cabinets in the room until the little stoppered bottle of the healing essence floated out towards Darrow. That would do to knit the cut closed and stop the bleeding.
“And then you’d better go,” Ari said, the tone of that direction hovering oddly between apologetic and obstinate. He felt as though he ought to have gotten his message across better, explained everything Zelda had been through in the months he’d been gone, and what she might be put through again if he found himself in her life again; but, although he did not trust the man in the slightest, he did have the glimmer of an instinct that Darrow hadn’t intended to swan in and screw up Zelda’s whole life without thinking.
And with any luck, he would keep his word and refrain from trying it again. Ari, still clutching his wand firmly, turned towards the door to see the lock click open, and stepped out of Darrow’s path. “And if you go near her again, I won’t be the only one you’ll be answering to,” Ari added grimly for good measure. (Julian might be to blame for this mess, but he could make up for it with his expertise in curses, and Leonid would be a good hand in a proper duel. And Brannon - well - if there was a next time, he was sure to find out eventually.)
