#scarletwinter

Pumpkin Patch Promises || Summary: They go to a pumpkin patch.

The Scarlet Sombers || Neither wanted to be together. Yet, for duty, and peace, they claimed one another. [Royal Creature AU]

Wanda was in the kitchen, going through her herbs when a shout and a sickening crack before a man’s gurgled scream was enough to stop her in the middle of preening her dill. The sounds were close, practically on the other side of the wall, but she didn’t dare open her door to investigate any further. She heard more words, muffed by the bricks and wood of her house, but not enough to drown out the sound of agony. Wanda set down the wooden spoon before moving gingerly to the wall where the commotion was strongest, pressing her ear up to cold wood trying to hear better. Threatening words laced their way through the barriers and a guttural groan made Wanda’s blood run cold. Retreating footsteps had her heart skipping beats as she wondered what to do; she usually kept to herself in this world, but her curiosity and the healer in her had her out of the backdoor to find if anyone was still in the small alleyway by her home, barely wide enough for anyone to venture down. She stopped, a large figure was half sitting, half laying on the ground. By the way of shape and the way words and sounds were, she knew it was a man, and he was badly hurt.

“Kefovať,” she swore as she rushed towards him, eyes roaming his form to see where he was hurt. He was barely awake, but he was breathing and that’s what mattered.

“Can you stand, sir?” Her voice was thick, accent blurring words as she rushed to speak, eager to know if she could move him.

A small nod was her answer and she offered her arm for him to use along with her home. He towered over her small, lithe frame but she was strong enough to help him into her home and up the stairs to the guest room where patrons would stay if needed. Wringing her hands, she hesitated to assess him. It was the first time she could really see him outside of dark lines and dim lighting.

He was handsome in a rugged way. Brown hair, wet from the rain and sweat (possibly even blood), hung to his jaw, strong and sharp. Piercing blue eyes were partially hidden behind his hair, the strands in front just grazing the top of his lips. Now that he was in the light she could see was more than just fit. The man was muscular, his arms straining against the gray henley he wore and his jeans formed to his thighs.

“Could you, please sir, let me see?” she asked almost shyly as she motioned to the large cut that was across his abdomen.

“Bucky,” he grimaced, his hand going to his torso, pulling it away with blood covering it. “I guess…you can,” he breathed, sitting down on the bed.

“I need your shirt off,” Wanda instructed, still timid. Most of her patrons were elderly, ones that were willing to go to a rogue witch when in desperate times. He didn’t argue and removed the shirt as gingerly as he could, the gash was actually four slightly parallel to each other, making her face scrunch up with through. “Was it a bear?” she asked hesitantly, taking a chance that Bucky was a human. She was already rogue in her home country for doing the same thing: exposing humans to her world.

“Fox and cat,” he groaned, clutching his stomach. fWanda set off to find what she needed, handing him a pair of sweatpants that seemed to be the right size and a towel to press to the injury.

“You’re a…shifter as well? Or are you a spellmen?”

His blue eyes narrowed at her before she turned away to head to the armoire to retrieve the herbs and salves she needed. He was one or the other as humans could never explain how a person could inflict injuries like these, and this made her work easier, but if he was shifter… Wanda shook her head and set the bottles down before going to the bathroom next door, coming back with a bowl of hot water. She worked as she waited for his answer, noting that he didn’t answer right away. She added witch hazel and bergamot to the water, whispering words in her native tongue while holding her hands above the water.

“Shifter,” Bucky finally answered when she turned towards him. He was now in the sweats holding the dark towel to his abdomen. It was moments like this that Wanda was glad she had opted for the darker color versus the traditional white and yellow of typical hearth witch.

Wanda nodded her acknowledgment. “I need to know what you are. Specifically. Some herbs can be deadly to you, but knowing what shifter that could have scratched you helps too.” She was in work mode now as she pulled her long auburn hair up into a messy bun and grabbed the apron hanging on the wall. “Please, lie down and keep your arms at your sides. I don’t want you to be pulling the skin more than it needs to.”

“You’re a spellmen.”

“Witch,” she specified as she dipped a dark cloth into the water, squeezed it, and brought it over to his skin, removing the towel to apply the warmth. “Hearth witch actually.”

“You shouldn’t be —”

“Helping you? Yeah, I am aware of that, podvrhnuté.”

“Podnotede?”

“It’s what we call shifters back in my homeland,” she whispered, her brow furrowed as she tried to focus on his wound, which was proving to be hard as her eyes kept traveling over the lines where his muscles met each other.

“Won’t you get in trouble for helping me?”

“Only if you tell.” She looked up at him, fear in her eyes that actually would. Or worse when she healed him.

“I won’t,” Bucky replied softly, his eyes closed as he tried not to flinch to the solution to his skin. “Is it supposed to burn?”

Wanda snapped her eyes back to the cloth she was holding, pulled it back slightly and saw that the four cuts were not more inflamed than before and turned an awful green.

“What kind of shifter are you?” she asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “I grabbed the ingredients that are neutral for all shifters and spellmen.” She removed the cloth and grabbed a new towel to press to his wound, placing his large hand over it before she raced to the bathroom, returning with a white cloth. She placed it on the wound before muttering words. She looked at him for his answer.

“Mother was a wolf,” he hissed as the heat penetrated his skin, pulling the ailment. “Father was…”

“Now is not the time to hold back if you are a kríženec wolf,” she hissed as her hands shook while she looked at the herbs she had brought over.

“Did you just call me something bad?”

“Doesn’t matter. What are you?”

She could hear the swallow he made before he hissed again.

“Bucky, I cannot help you unless I know your parentage. I don’t want to kill you. I heal. Killing would kill me.”

“Ma said he was a spindrel,” he groused out.

“Spindrel? Do riti!” Wanda flew to her stash looking for what she needed, but it wasn’t there. “I need to go and get some dračí krv. Here, take some of this. It will help ease the pain and slow your heart rate until I get back.” Bucky gave her a dubious look as he took the vial, sniffing the contents. “It’s just chamomile tea. I will put some salve on your wound to ease the comfort, but I need to get the stuff that will ease what I have done to you.” She waited for him to swallow the contents before she ran down the stairs.

Dreary clouds painted the sky, making the air buzz with electricity as cold rain fell, making the city practically wearisome for anyone to venture out in. Lightning flashed, causing Wanda to snap her head up as she buttoned her coat, catching her off guard. She hated leaving her home, fearing for her life most times as she navigated the streets of the packed city, but she needed the resin and the man upstairs couldn’t wait for it much longer.

The streets were packed considering how horrible the weather was. The apothecary was only a few blocks away and she knew she would be at least thirty minutes away from him as long as they had what she needed. If not, well, she wouldn’t be a hearth witch anymore. People brushed against her, sending waves of fear through her never too sure if the person was a stranger or someone from her past. The building came into sight at last and she rushed inside, pushing her hood back only a little so she could see where she needed to go. An old man sat behind the counter, glasses extremely thick and his skin looked like it was both leather and paper thin.

“G’deve,” he said cheerfully, his voice rasped and creaked as if he never spoke before. Wanda nodded to the gentleman and walked slowly over to him, the nerves never ending. “What cannai get ye today lass?”

“I’m looking for dracaena resin,” she replied in almost the perfect accent of the native townspeople. It wasn’t the first time she was in here, but when came to this country she tried her hardest to speak like everyone else, to blend in, even though the keeper of this particular apothecary was clearly from a different country as well, one Wanda was not sure of.

“Oh? A pre-y youn’ lass lookin’ fer ye mannah to takah care of ye?” he chuckled as he slid off his stool, nose barely grazing the counter. Wanda eyed him, never seeing this man leave his stool ever when she came in. “Yah know tee resin is used fer lurve.”

“Yes, if it is burned, kind sir,” Wanda blushed, her mind wandering to the dark haired man in her home, lying half naked on the patient bed. “My patron is allergic to bergamot.”

The man nodded and went to the tall shelf next to the counter and pulled out a small step stool to climb, pulling a dusty box out from behind a few bottles and made his way back towards her, setting it next to his register.

“Thata be one oh six an’ thirty eigh’,” he smiled, his crooked finger hitting the stiff buttons on the machine, the gears grinding at a pitch that made Wanda wince. “Price ye hafta pay for dragon blood.”

Wanda dug through her wallet and found the money, handing him two fifty notes and a twenty. She knew the man would cheat her out of her change, he always had and she always blessed him with good fortune to find him. This time was no different, handing her back only two notes and a few cents.