remembrance

His throat bobbed tightly in his throat as she seemed to consider his request. Why did it feel so wrong when she agreed? It was a favor after all. A seemingly limitless favor from a powerful Witch and this was his ask? Yes. He was selfish. Frustratingly selfish but there was so little of his life that lent to being selfish, at least not in the way that he aimed to live. An opportunity like this was a hard thing to ignore. It behooved him to take advantage. At least that was his justification and the reasoning he kept repeating inwardly to himself to ease the swelling guilt inside of him, originating from deep in his gut. 

Ragnar offered his hand with little reluctance, just a stoic offer. A near inaudible hiss passed his lips at the sting, eyes blank as he stared at his blood dripping drop by drop into the vile until she pulled away and the wound was instantly healed over. Not even a scar or redness. Like it never happened. He swallowed hard again, letting his hand brace again behind his back, clasped hard in the other. He nodded solemly at her following words, her instructions, her warnings and while he took them all seriously commiting them to memory, he still wished for her to dismiss him as quick as possible. His skin itched with anticipation, hands vibrating as he took the vile, nodding absently at her last words. 

Despite what he was about to do to Alyvia, staying away would be a true test of his will. Thank you. He bowed and left the room without another word afraid to look back over his shoulder so either of them be tempted to change their minds. 

--

Considering that she'd just imprisoned him and he was willingly travelling back in order to speak with her, his track record for success in control of said willpower was dismal at best. He sent word ahead of his arrival, asking for an audience with the Baronnes, a private one, if she would allow it. Either he found a way to sneak it into her or he laid all of his cards on the table. 

He rode Boreas to Val Colline, mostly because the beast deserved some time in the sky and alone with one of the people who understood him best. After landing, he whispered to the formidable mount, words unheard by anyone else but that sent the winged animal shooting back into the sky and towards the horizon. He didn't trust strangers around Boreas or Boreas around strangers. Best that he send a signal to the bird, one he would be able to hear from a distance, when he was ready to depart.

He found a courtier, based on their dress, nodding reverently. I'm here for the Baroness.