Exton

Daggers of light pierce his closed lids with extreme prejudice. Keon groans and forces his body to move. It takes a few moments before the room steadies and he can stand without feeling the world tilt. He feels the floor shift and stumbles. He grabs the curtains for support and yanks them closed.

A rumble behind him has Keon slowly turning his head. Guunnar leans against the door jamb, grinning. The Dark Fae growls softly, then drops his head into his hands with a muffled groan. Sliding down the wall, he sits gingerly and rests his arms on his knees, head bowed. He mutters, words unintelligible.

"Vas?"

Keon raises his head and stares with bleary eyes at the bigger man. His words are soft, just above a croak.

"I am supposed to help Erik today."

Guunnar crosses his arms over his massive chest. He laughs, causing Keon to close his eyes against the sound.

"Ich dankt dat ist nicht happening mit du in dat shape."

Keon pushes his way up the wall. One step at a time, he forces himself past his friend and into the small galley. Grabbing a large mug, he fills it with hot water and puts together a small bag of herbs. As the bag steeps, Keon places his hands over the mug and chants. The small bundle finds itself in the sink. Eyes closed, Keon drinks it, swallowing until there is nothing left in the mug. He braces his hands on the table and waits, counting slowly.

He surges to his feet and moves to the stairs topside. Guunnar bars his way.

"Keon."

The Dark Lord looks up, swaying as he looks even higher to meet Guunnar's eyes. His vision swims and he struggles to keep his balance. Goddess help me with the well-intentioned. He moves around the Viking but Guunnar steps in front of him again.

"Keon."

The Fae sighs, ear tips twitching in annoyance.

"What?"

Guunnar raises a bushy brow. "Du fergit sumtink?"

Glancing past Gunnar, Keon squints at the bright sunlight. He grabs his sunglasses from the counter and slides them over his eyes. Guunnar heaves a sighs and blocks the exit.

"Dat ist a gut idea, but not vat I meant."

Keon lowers the glasses, looking over the rim. "Not into games Guunnar. Just tell me."

Guunnar licks his lip. trying not to laugh. "I vas tinking... du vant to put clothes on?"

Keon looks down slowly. It takes a few minutes to register his state of undress.

Without a word, he turns on his heel and strides to the bedroom. Bending over an open drawer, he hears Guunnar's chuckle. "Odin's balls..."

"Don't go there Guunnar." Keon throws a pair of jeans on the bed and rummages for a shirt.

"Yur built gut for a little man."

"Guunnar..." Keon throws the shirt on the bed with the jeans.

"Chust don't tink Erik vould vant Star to..."

Keon slams the door in the giant's laughing face. The Viking calls through the door.

"Ich bin chust saying!"

Laughing, Guunnar heads to the deck to await his friend.