[open & closed] and when that day comes

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow & friends
WHAT: ye olde lyrium detox in its various stages
WHEN: vaguely Wintermarch
WHERE: the infirmary
NOTES: I'll be adding a few starters at a time since I want later developments to feel organic and make sense. please feel free to request something if you don't see it here!

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[brennvin]

Word gets around the Gallows, small as it is, and since Barrow’d needed someone to feed the cats while he was indisposed, there’s a dangling loose thread which a stubborn enough sleuth could unravel. Astrid is nosy about her friends besides, and so she’d asked around, eventually unearthing the fact that her neighbour wasn’t away in the field after all —

So she stops by the infirmary on the second day, and she pokes her head in through the door at the sound of that familiar baritone voice raised in cheerful song.

“Barrow?”

[thereneverwas]

He's lying on the floor, all the better to tighten a wiggly leg on one of the infirmary beds, and Barrow looks up when he hears his name. His smile to Astrid is cheerful, if a bit manically so, and he doesn't race to get up (too much work) when just talking to her from the floor is an option.

"What can I do for you?" he asks with a grunt as he tightens a bolt.

[brennvin]

“Just stopped by to check up on you, bring you somethin’ to snack on. You trying out being a carpenter in addition to Master of Works or what?”

There was overlap in the roles, probably — repairing the ballistas? maybe? Astrid admittedly didn’t know everything that went into his job — but she meanders closer and instantly hops onto one of the other adjacent beds, legs curling under her, making herself comfortable on the vacant unmade mattress; they were bare when not needed, saving on laundry.

“You want any cookies? They’re lumpy.”

[thereneverwas]

"You think I just look at things all day?" Barrow playfully shoots back, giving one last turn of his wrench before he rests onto his elbows and starts to awkwardly scootch himself out from under the bed.

"Course I do," he grunts, "what're the lumps?"

[brennvin]

“Planning training sessions and designing stuff, I guess? You mutter about the ballistas a lot.”

Astrid rummages in her satchel, eventually pulling out the stack of slightly-crumbly cookies wrapped in a handkerchief, and waits for him to be safely out from under the bed before she gently lobs them over. “Dough I fucked up,” she answers, vis a vis lumps, “but there’s a little bit of chocolate in there too. Got it for Satinalia but it should still be good.”

She’s proud of the baking; not her strongest suit, really, but she’s been working on it over the winter.

[thereneverwas]

"I do not," Barrow says easily, contrarily, still smiling-- he probably does, but that's not the point. Propping himself on one hand, he catches the small bundle and unwraps it to bite into one, which he chews thoughtfully before replying, "Satinalia was five months ago."

It's fine,

"You know," he says after consuming one lumpy-as-advertised cookie, "I did say I didn't want visitors." He's not going to kick her out, but he turns an admonishing smirk on Astrid anyway.

[brennvin]

It is, perhaps, the sort of smile Astrid’s used to getting from her uncle back home: chiding, but indulgent and knowing at the same time; expecting her disobedience, and not genuinely mad at her for it. (At least, she hopes he’s not mad.)

“You’re in the infirmary,” she states, plainly, as if that’s all you need to know. “When people are in the infirmary you ought to visit them and make sure they’re doing all right and not going stir-fuckin’-crazy getting lonely on their ownsome. People get bored when they’re laid up waiting for a broken leg to heal and stuff. People need like… soup, or cookies, or whatever. Or to bring a book or knitting or cards to help ’em keep busy.”

She rattles this all off matter-of-fact, as if it’s the rules to life. (It’s the rules to life in Wulfhold, at the least.)

[thereneverwas]

"Well," Barrow says, a calm and measured word that precedes a deliberating pause, "...fine."
There's a huffiness to his defeat, but it's difficult to argue with her point, and even at the best of times arguing is usually too much work.

"I'll forgive you for the price of another-- two more cookies."

[brennvin]

“You drive a hard bargain, Bear, but alright.”

The diminutive slips loose from her tongue before she’s really thought better of it, Bar turned muddy until it sounds like the animal instead. She hands over two more cookies as promised, and considers.

“—Can I call you that? You got any nicknames, like with family or whatever?”

[thereneverwas]

The nickname stops him too, but after he’s paused to process it, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He eats another cookie.

“That’s as good a one as any,” he obliges, evading the rest of the question, “I got to be a be a bear once. In a Rifter world.”

He looks off into the middle distance, reminiscing: “best days of my life, if I’m being honest.”

[brennvin]

A beat, derailed from the missing answer as she has to process that.

“—Wait, like, literally turned into a bear?”

[thereneverwas]

He nods, the smile broadening. "Hung out by a river, ate fish, sat in the sun all day. It's a tough one to beat."

[brennvin]

“How long were you a bear?”

And why has no one mentioned this to her before?? He just dropped that in like it was normal. Korth, every time she thinks she’s used to life in Riftwatch—

[thereneverwas]

Barrow squints pensively, eating the last cookie to help him think, and folds his arms with an air of conclusion.

"Couple weeks?" His eyebrows pinch in a look that's both uncertain and amused as he directs his gaze back to Astrid, "felt like it, at least. Long enough to figure it out properly."

[brennvin]

“Wish I could’ve experienced that,” Astrid muses. “Woulda been a wolf if I were there. Although maybe that’s like… sacri-leg-ious to say, ‘cos holdbeasts are special? Still, though. If I could choose.”

And then she gives him the once-over, considering. “So Bear really fits you. I called it.”

[thereneverwas]

He gives an amiable nod. "Most were," he confirms, pausing for a second-- it's sacrilegious to want to be a wolf?-- but he supposes he's not going around volunteering to be a burning prophet.

"You did." His smile grows, and he stoops again to test his work, "if that rift ever opens up again I'll make sure you hear about it."

[brennvin]

“Good.”

Astrid’s wound up perched on the edge of the mattress, one leg now swinging restlessly off the edge as she leans to crane and watch Barrow work. There’s something soothing about someone working with their hands in the background of the room; building something, making something. There was always stuff to fix around the hold, keeping busy.

And even though she’s browbeaten her way in here, she feels the need to add for posterity: “Also if you do wind up needing anything later… just, y’know, holler on the crystal? That’s what friends are for.”

[thereneverwas]

"Course." Barrow's smile is warm, grateful-- periodically he'll find himself wondering if he has any friends, if he's tied to this place in any meaningful way other than wanting to avoid Out There-- but he takes Astrid's words to heart.

"You too."