Chapter 34

                                    

                                          


                          
    It took a couple of days to get the right dosage for the meds so you weren't in pain, but weren't knocked out either. While you were both figuring it out, Loki held you while you slept them off, made sure you ate something when you woke, and read you stories until the pain got too bad and the vicious cycle began again.
                          
    By the time you finally had it figured out, your leg was healed enough that you could put weight on it again. "Witchling?" Loki asked softly and concerned when you moved to get out of the bed.
                          
    "I haven't left the bed in three days except to go to the bathroom. I need a shower and to leave the room. I have a broken arm, I'm not dying, but the others will get worried if we don't show our faces downstairs soon," you reminded him.
                          
    He smiled and kissed your forehead. "Very well, darling. Let me draw you a bath instead? It will be easier than trying to stand long enough for a proper shower." You nodded and settled back among the pillows with a book of Asgardian children's tales while he did. The book was in Asgardian, which you were painstakingly learning. You were picking up the spoken language a lot faster, as though it was something you were just remembering, not learning from scratch.
                          
    Loki returned a few minutes later and moved to pick you up from the bed. "Loki," you told him softly and swung your own legs out of the bed. "I'm not dying, Loki," you reminded him, but let him help you to your feet and brace you. Your leg could support your weight, but it wasn't happy about it. You bit back a hiss of pain that would just make him worry.
                          
    "I dislike seeing you in pain, love," he told you softly. "Especially when it is my fault you are in this state,"
                          
    "It's not your fault," you told him again.
                          
    "I was not there to keep you safe," he protested again. "You are a healer, not a warrior," he added. You couldn't argue with that point. So you let him walk you to the waiting bath, which was of course filled with bubbles and surrounded by candles. Hopeless romantic boyfriend. "You're going to snarl at me if I attempt to help you into the bath, aren't you?" he asked, sounding disappointed, but resigned.
                          
    "Very much so," you replied, but sat on the edge of the tub. "But you can help me with the bandage." You'd learned quickly how to work with his overprotective mood. The bandage on your leg had to be changed regardless. Letting him help would keep you both happy. You pulled up your pajama pant leg over the bandage. Loki was instantly kneeling in front of you, propping your leg up under his knee so he could reach the bandage more easily. He carefully removed it and promised to help you rebandage it after your bath.
                          
    You were surprised he actually left you to bathe on your own. You were grateful he listened to you for once. He was hard to deal with when he was in this mood, though you had to admit that he was adorably romantic insisting on taking care of you. It would have been extremely romantic in a movie or a book where you could watch the character dealing with it and didn't have to live with not taking care of yourself.
                          
    You soaked in the bath for a very long time. The water never cooled and you had a shield over the cast, so there was no need for you to rush. However, baths were boring, so you did eventually try to get clean and get out of said bath. It was going fine until you tried to wash your hair. Washing one's hair is not a one-handed activity.
                          
    "Witchling, why are you crying?" Loki asked from beside the tub in an instant. You hadn't even realized you had been frustratedly crying over the stupid fact that you couldn't wash your own stupid hair. It was a ridiculous reason to be crying and you knew it. You looked over at him and flushed, horrified that you were not only crying in front of him for a stupid reason, bu that you were naked while this was happening. He rolled his eyes. "I am quite aware what a female body looks like," he informed you dryly. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly, gently when you still hadn't answered him.