We Are All Drawn to What's Broken & Beautiful

Falling

Magnus dreamt of the storm, white and fierce in its fury. He dreamt of the wind whipping against his cheek and the sting of the snowflakes against his skin. The howling of wolves cut through the winter storm and then all he knew was pain.

The pain in his heart, the pain on his body as claws and teeth raked against him, even as he railed to get away. It was a maelstorm of pain and sound and tears, until all is still, and he could only hear the sound of his ragged panting, see the stains his blood left in the snow.

He could see the stars in the sky but a shadow blotted them out and then there was pressure on his right hand, a gentle voice calling him home.

Magnus awoke to the heat of the fireplace filling the room. Sweat dripped down his face and into silken sheets. His body ached and every movement brought pain. There was a dark head at his side, carefully binding his bloodied hand. The prince turned his head to call out but his throat was too dry.

Alec looked up when he stirred, a relieved smile gracing his features. He wrapped the remaining gauze tightly and rose to his feet.

"You're awake," he murmured and it was with a startling revelation that Magnus found himself completely naked. His eyes widened and he snatched at the closest blankets, his cheeks flushing red in the heat of the room. Before his hand could even brush against the sheets, the pain caused him to cry out, his body flopping back uselessly onto the bed.

Alec was looking at him uncertainly, biting his lip in an annoyingly endearing fashion. He crouched back down, his arm sliding around his back to support Magnus' weight as he helped him to sit up.The blankets were drawn over him and Alec moved to douse the fire in the hearth.

"I...I didn't know where your room was. So I brought you to mine," he stuttered when he returned, fretting over the bandage wrapped around Magnus' right shoulder.

Magnus blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to decide if he was still in a fevered dream. Surely the prince would have left him to die in the snow after he had scared him away?

"Magnus."

Hazel eyes stared at him in concern, a gentle hand brushing against his forehead. Magnus leaned into the touch even as Alec gave a little gasp.

"You're burning up."

The glass by the bedside was snatched up and pressed against his lips. Even though it was difficult, Magnus drank, the liquid cool against his burning throat. He shifted and winced.

The wound on his shoulder was deep and needed stitches and Alec clearly did not have the expertise to do so. It was bleeding again, crimson blood staining the white bandage.

"Don't move," the prince urged, his arm strong against his back as he laid Magnus back down again. Magnus hummed weakly as his hair was brushed out of his eyes tenderly and a cold compress was laid over his forehead.

"Once the snow has passed I will look for Ragnor and Catarina. They will fix you up."

There was a hand stroking his cheek, gentle in its touch and a kiss laid against his hair, before Magnus fell back into darkness.

-

Alec was fretting. He had not left Magnus' bedside for three days, except to relieve himself and fetch more cold water and ice.

The prince was delirious, on the rare occasions he awoke, often calling out for his parents helplessly like a small child. His temperature was barely helped with the cold compresses Alec made for his forehead, and the small sips of cold water he made him drink.

When he was lucid, Alec fed him soup, tiny mouthfuls so that his stomach would not rebel. But there was nothing more that he could do for the wounds. He cleaned them daily, changing the bandages for fresh ones, but it was not enough.