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Sweet_Wyvern

The Blacksmith and the Apothecary

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Bruce nodded and continued to breathe deeply and inhale as much of the incense as he could to better keep away any infection. "You-u mus' grind it into p-powder first," he told him in a strained voice, watching the blacksmith as he spread the salve over his wounds. The slow burn of the whiskey down his throat sent him into a coughing fit, one he worked to hastily quell in fear of rupturing something vial; he'd lost enough blood as it were. In contrast to the rest of the village, the apothecary rarely drank, and so even the small amount of liquor caused his features to contort with distaste.

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Tony quickly stopped with the whiskey and set it down, gently putting his head down as well. "Easy, easy," he soothed, glancing at the cloves. Quickly he dumped a few on the ground and began crushing them with the flat of his sword , scooping up the dust. "What do I do with them now?" He asked.

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Bruce swallowed hard, sucking in a shaky breath, trying to dispel the last of the harsh liquor from his throat for a moment. "Mix it...w-with the whiskey...A-Any drink," he coughed wetly. He brought a trembling hand up to his lips, blinking in surprise as he pulled his already bloody fingers away to reveal a smear of brighter crimson.

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Well, he didn't want to force him to drink the whiskey again, but it would help. Scooting to the window, he dumped three fourths of the bottle out, diluting the remaining amount with water. Then Tony quickly swept the crushed up cloves inside the bottle and swirled the contents before kneeling over Bruce again. He was coughing up blood- not good. "Just a bit longer, just a little bit. Let me bind your wounds and then you can sleep, alright?" He was really forcing himself to stay calm as he held the bottle up to Bruce's lips again.

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Weakly, Bruce nodded, swallowing hard again. As the bottle was brought to his lips again, he made a move as if to sit up, his lanky frame trembling from the effort. The whiskey went down easier this time, although the cloves gave it a strange, metallic taste...then again, now that he thought about it, that might've been him. He downed the rest, helping Tony to tip the bottle up and finish it, and when it was empty, he collapsed onto the thin mattress, utterly exhausted, his lids begging him to close.

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Tony made short work of the rest of the wounds. Following the instructions that Bruce had given him when he pulled out the herbs initially, he moved quickly to rub the proper salves into the wounds. He was surprisingly gentle, though this could be due to the fact that his hands were his main tools. He was a craftsman. "Bruce? I think.. I think you're going to be okay," he sighed wearily, tying the final knot into a bandage. "You should rest though," he added, touching his shoulder lightly.

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Fading in and out while the other worked, Bruce found himself blinking the engineer into focus when Tony spoke, and his lips twitched wearily, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips. He forced his eyes open and looked his savior over, his vision hazy with exhaustion. "Thank you, S-Sir Stark," he breathed, truly grateful for everything the other had done for him.

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Tony quirked a small smile, if only to comfort Bruce. He didn't know this man very well, but he'd worked too hard to have him die. He'd make sure the man saw another day. "You are welcome. Rest here, with-"

"Virginia," the woman finally said, speaking up for the first time. "Call me Pepper." It was a strange nickname, but Tony flew with it. "Right, stay with Pepper here, I have to go back out. I promise I'll be back by the time you wake. Rest well, you did good."

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Bruce nodded, eyes flitting to the redhead for a moment to give her a silent nod of thanks. It only took a moment after his lids fluttered closed for him to lose consciousness and finally numb himself to the pain, even if it was only for a few hours.

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Tony stood over the injured man, watching him for a moment just in case his condition changed critically. When nothing happened, he breathed a sigh of relief and tipped his head to the woman. "Thank you, for your hospitality. I will repay you soon, but first I must return to the rest of the attack force," he apologized, kissing her hand before dashing out the door and leaving her staring after him with an exasperated look.

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Bruce began to stir after some odd hours as morning light hit his eyes, birds chirping just outside the window above him. His head was thick and aching as he blinked his eyes open and peered around the room. It took a moment to bring everything into focus, and even when it did, he didn't recognize anything. Where...? He started to sit up, but he didn't make it an inch off the mattress before a sharp pain shot up his abdomen and his neck, and he winced, falling flat onto his back once again. Then he remembered what had happened, and his chest constricted. He'd nearly died...was just about torn to shreds, if it hadn't been for that blacksmith... He didn't want to think about it right now. Better to just lie here for the moment.

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Tony dragged the last body to the giant column of flames, hefting the wolf and throwing it in. The king was ordering them to burn every body, even the dead humans, for people were superstitious. He hadn't rested since the fight began, for he felt a certain obligation to everything, but now he was anxious to go and check on Bruce. The man could've died in his absence. "Sir Rogers- may I go?" He asked, shifting from foot to foot. No time to sleep, had to check on Bruce. Then he had to figure out where he lived, if he had family, what to do next.

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Rogers looked over the other, blue orbs flitting across his worn, fatigued features and noting the dark smudges beneath Tony's eyes. "Yes, you may. We can handle the rest, but Stark, get some rest. You will need your strength if the rest of the pack returns," he replied firmly. He was a caring leader, always considered his knights (and fellow warriors) well being before making any decisions, and he could see that something was worrying Tony.

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Tony gave a weary chuckle. "Don't talk like that, or it will come true," he joked, missing his hair with a hand. He then waved the man off. "I'll get rest in time. I have something to check on," he replied, calling a hasty farewell as he sped off. Finally, he could go make sure his new ward wasn't dead in his sleep.

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The knight smiled weakly, worry in his gaze, but before he could call him back, one of his other warriors called out to him and he turned to help with whatever it was they needed.

 

Bruce continued to lie still, closing his eyes to take in deep, even breaths so the pain wouldn't become too much to bear. The house seemed relatively silent, so he assumed the woman that had been here before had gone, although he could be wrong.

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Tony didn't run, he absolutely did not run, but he may have speed-walked once he was out of sight. The door opened under his touch, meaning the woman had left it unlocked. Good! Tony made a mental note to thank her later. And find some flowers, women loved flowers. Entering the house, his gaze snapped immediately to the cot. Bruce was definitely alive, but looked to be still asleep, so he remained quiet as he shut the door behind him.

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When he heard the door to the house softly shut, Bruce opened his eyes and looked around confusedly until his gaze fell onto Sir Stark. He blinked, trying to sit up only to remember what had happened last time, and he grit his teeth to lie back down. "Sir Stark...I was not sure if you would return."

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Tony came further inside and began undoing straps on his armor. It was a great relief to peel the metal from his body, revealing some ugly bruises where he'd had close calls. He was in much better shape than Bruce, to say the least. His armor now off, Tong sighed in relief and came to kneel by the man's side. "Of course I did. I would not just leave you here," he snorted with a smile.

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Bruce smiled a bit, surprisingly relieved to see that the blacksmith had returned for him. He honestly hadn't expected him to. "Most would not have even bothered to pick me up and carry me out of there in the first place, much bind my wounds and return to check up on my injuries the next morning...you seem to defy all expectations, Sir Stark," he observed, his voice quiet and slightly strained, but much steadier than it had been last night.

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Once again Tony snorted, sweeping sweat-slick hair from his eyes so he could see the man properly. Only one or two bandages looked to be soaking through with blood, so he set about changing those while they talked. "The people who know me would gladly inform you that i always challenge expectations, Mr. Banner," he replied with a knowing smirk. "And if you must know, I'm not much of a soldier. I'm not trained to climb over fallen teammates, and I know what its like to be hurt and alone," he added, though his voice tapered off quietly in the end. No one had been there for him, and now he had a nice engraving that looked like a two year old's scribbles on his chest. "Are you feeling any better? Would you like more whiskey?"

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Bruce's easy smile fell a fraction at that last bit, and a crease formed between his brows as he looked the blacksmith over, his frown deepening at the haunted look he found in the other's eyes. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened to him, but it was obviously something painful. Perhaps it was because of this near-stranger's pain that he was alive right now. He swallowed and nodded a bit. "I feel much improved, yes..." he murmured, still studying the other man. "And no, I'm fine. M'not one for drinking, even for pain," he added.

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Just like that, the brooding spell was over, and Tony cracked a smile. "I wouldn't take you for a drinker to begin with. You just don't have the look," he replied easily. E wasn't one for moping. Securing the last bandage, he lowered himself down with a sigh, sitting on the floor with his back against the cot. He couldn't see Bruce, but he could hear him. "If you aren't too tired, we can talk. I don't believe we've ever actually acquainted "

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Bruce suppressed a wince as the last bandage was secured, and as Tony sat down beside him, he nodded. "No, I don't believe we have," he agreed softly. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something he might say. "There's really not much to say about me. I'm a widower with no children, I traveled for many years from village to village, studied all that I could afford to..became an apothecary at some point, to help people as best I could. And then I settled down here."

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