Assassin's Creed Drabbles

↳ tiny pricks

gods take him, alexios is the most stubborn patient of all. 

HE JERKS AWAY when you pour the cider vinegar over the gaping wound on his side. Diluted blood runs over the deck of the Adrestia. "Hold still!" You hiss, pressing down on Alexios' shoulder. Stentor had challenged him to wrestle a wild boar with his bare hands and the Eagle Bearer wouldn't let his masculinity be tarnished by backing down. The boar was dead, and Alexios would've been waiting for Charon on the Styx if the boar's tusk had gone a hair deeper.

"Maybe I would if you weren't trying to finish me off!" He remarks, still trying to move out of your reach. He's convinced that he'd suffered worse wounds than this, but you've known him since he was a boy and this was bad. A flap of skin hangs near his ribs. If his stubbornness didn't kill him, an infection just might —especially if he won't let you tend to him properly.

You gnash your teeth and scoot closer to him again —wadding up his grey chiton and pressing it against his side, blood seeps through quickly. "Do not get sassy with me right now, Alexios," you censure, "I might just let you bleed out." (You'd never do such a thing —you're far too fond of this misthios, but the threat is enough to make him a slightly more affable patient.)

Alexios glances away, half-pouting and indignant, resisting the urge to cross his arms. Shifting, you reach for the needle and silk thread. "Do I regret it? Yes," he remarks, still unable to meet your stern gaze. If you'd known he was going to do that you would've stopped him. Alexios lets Stentor get under his skin too easily sometimes. "Would I do it again?" He turns his attention back to you, golden-brown eyes filled with warmth and mirth. "Probably." You both say in unison. You've known Alexios long enough to know what goes on in that head of his. Barnabas brings a skin of strong white wine, and you uncork it, offering the drink to Alexios. He'll be grateful for the wine once you start stitching him back up. You douse the needle in vinegar, then pass it through flames before threading it.

"Maláka!" Alexios exclaims, grimacing as you make the first pass with the needle. "That hurts!" You fight the urge to roll your eyes. He'd been gored and there was nary a complaint, but gods help him against tiny pricks.

He groans again and drapes his arm over his eyes. Dramatic little brat. You know Alexios is doing this on purpose. "One more sound and I swear to-" you start, cheeks red —you still have half the wound left to close and the noises he's making now do not sound like a person in pain. He has the audacity to laugh, and it causes fresh pulses of blood to surface and run down his side.

"I sense attitude in your tone," Alexios smiles, cutting his eyes over to you. He jolts away from you when the needle pierces his skin again, tearing it from your hand and almost giving him another fresh wound to scar.

Sweat beads up on your brow working under the hot midday sun. "Alexios," you chide, "for the love of the gods, please stay still and quiet." His fun and games come to a close. Alexios always enjoys getting a rise out of you, but maybe this time his wound was pretty bad. The Eagle Bearer listens without complaint as you finish up the line of sutures.

Alexios sits up —a soft groan leaving his lips. You wrap several strips of linen around his torso, covering the fresh sutures and the honey salve you'd rubbed over the broken skin. He's watching every move you make, memorizing the gentle brush of your fingers against his flesh. "You're the most stubborn man I've ever met," you tell him, tying a knot in the dressings.

He shrugs. "Must be the Spartan blood," Alexios says, in turn, lips kinking into a charming smile.

You roll your eyes. "Instead of almost getting yourself killed next time, why don't you just push Stentor overboard?" Alexios' head snaps to you, aghast and delighted by the suggestion —his smile widens, eyes sparkling with anticipation. Stentor was a bit of a headache, and you wouldn't mind a good laugh from time-to-time.

Alexios leans forward to steal a kiss, but you offer one to him freely. He caresses your cheek, thumb running over your jaw. "I love you," he breathes, still smiling. You reply with another quick kiss. The poets would say you're his better half, but to Alexios, you're his equal and partner-in-crime. Stentor doesn't stand a chance against us both he thinks with a grin, watching as you gather up the soiled and unused supplies.