Chapter Text
“Runeheart, what the hell are you doing?!”
Reyner stared at his friend in exasperation as she intentionally danced into his way each time he moved, preventing him from stepping past the front desk of the Bulk and Build to get to the front door. She had her arms outstretched slightly as if playing goalie, a sly smile growing on her lips.
“You can’t go anywhere yet!” The blacksmith told him, making another step to block him as he tried to dart past her.
Reyner growled a sigh and winced slightly at the pain in his shoulder flaring up, “Why? I’ve got shit to do!”
“I, uh . . . I called the chemist, he said he’d visit today to look at your shoulder.”
The carpenter blanched slightly as a look of frustration overtook his features, “You what?! ”
Before Runeheart could defend herself, the bell on the front door jingled to indicate its opening. The pair looked to see who had walked in. It was indeed the chemist—a lithe man of average height, olive skin, and soft curls of chestnut hair. He flashed his amber eyes toward the desk, noticing both Runeheart and Reyner staring at him in mild surprise. His hands moved to adjust his oddly large scarf awkwardly, eyes flicking curiously between them both.
“Um, good day.” He said to them, the lilt of a soft accent rolling off his tongue.
Reyner tore his eyes from the chemist and narrowed them in a glare toward Runeheart. There was a rumble in his throat that he passed off as clearing it. The blacksmith quickly shoved her hand in his face to hide his scowl and smiled toward the chemist in the doorway.
“Chemist! Thank you for coming,” she said almost too cheerfully as Reyner huffed and slapped her hand away from him, “We were just waiting for you.”
The brown haired man nodded, “Yes, sorry if I kept you waiting long. Um, is there somewhere I can do an examination of your shoulder?”
“Yes!” Runeheart chirped, giving Reyner a hearty shove toward the back of the workshop, “Just around the corner here.”
Reyner tried his best not to trudge as he passed the main area of his workshop to walk to the room on the left. It was hard not showing his annoyance at having this sprung on him, especially because Runeheart seemed so smugly delighted for some reason. He looked over his shoulder to see the chemist following them in, appearing a little confused about the subtle body language of the two in front of him. The chemist pulled his bag from his shoulder and set it on a table as Reyner dropped himself onto a stool, glowering at Runeheart’s smug grin.
“I must request that you remove your shirt if you would please.” He told Reyner, rolling up his sleeves.
The carpenter absolutely despised the pleased look Runeheart had on her face. He was beginning to understand exactly why she did this, beyond how much she had been pestering him to go see the chemist about his shoulder. With a frustrated sigh, he pulled at the tie on his apron and removed it before dropping it to the side. Using his left arm only, as his right shoulder was so tender, he pulled at the back of his collar and lifted it over his head until the whole shirt came free of his arms and torso. Reyner sat facing away from the chemist but glanced over his shoulder at him to try and read his expression. There wasn’t much to tell as he seemed to just be observing neutrally.
“I noticed that you didn’t use your right arm at all, is your shoulder bothering you that much?”
“Um, it’s not really that ba—”
“Don’t let him fool you, Astra,” Runeheart interrupted, her mirthful expression replaced now with seriousness about her friend’s injury, “His pain is worse than he’ll admit and he’s been refusing to have it looked at for weeks.”
The chemist, Astra, nodded in understanding, “I see. Is it alright if I touch your shoulder? I’m going to ask you to go through a series of movements.”
Reyner sighed heavily and agreed, acquiescing to the requests of the chemist. He gritted his teeth when his shoulder flared in pain with certain movements and positions. Astra kept his hands on Reyner’s shoulder, moving them slightly as he asked Reyner to move his arm up, out, and around in different ways. Periodically it seemed like he would very intentionally locate an extra tender spot and he’d poke at it gently, eliciting agonized hisses from the carpenter. Each time this happened, the brunette would mumble something to himself as if making notes.
When he was finally finished, Astra picked Reyner’s shirt up from the side and held it out to him, “Your shoulder is certainly injured. It seems to be due to repetitive movement and strain, which I can easily gather is just a facet of your job.”
“What exactly is wrong with it?” Runeheart asked as the carpenter pulled his shirt back on carefully, trying to hide his grimace when he had to slide his right arm into the sleeve.
The chemist peered at her seriously then directed his gaze to Reyner, his true patient. He sounded less timid than before, “Put plainly, the muscles and ligaments are severely inflamed from repetitive movement—these are simply called repetitive stress injuries. I could feel swelling and inflammation the moment I touched your shoulder. Such an injury is a common issue in careers where you have to complete repetitive and rigorous movements, and if left untreated can cause loss of strength and range of movement in the long term.”
Runeheart shot an upset look to her friend, “See?! I told you that you needed to be seen! This will only get worse.”
Reyner groaned and got back to his feet, “Okay okay, I get it, you were right. Happy? Just give me a potion so I can get back to work.”
“Mmm, no no, it doesn’t work like that,” Astra frowned insistently, “You need to rest your shoulder. I will make a topical potion for you and bring it tomorrow, but you need to avoid tasks that agitate your injury for a week at least. I’d prefer two so you can regain some strength. In the meantime you could either worsen your injury or put yourself at risk of injuring something else.”
“Wait, two weeks? ” The carpenter raised his voice a little, not intending to shout but unable to stop the rise in his frustration, “But I have orders to work on!”
The chemist didn’t back down, remaining assured and showing no hint of unease as Reyner directed his annoyance toward him, “Yes, one week minimum, two weeks is better. If you don’t address this now and care for your injury, it will get worse and you will be forced to take longer on your recovery in the future. Two weeks is better than two months. Your rest should start today.”
The tall blond wanted badly to argue, but the glare he was receiving from Runeheart stopped him from running his mouth and saying something rude. Instead, Reyner rubbed his face irritatedly and paced in a small circle before facing the chemist again.
“Okay, but small tasks, can I at least do small tasks?”
Astra kept his eyes trained on the taller man as if silently running through risk calculations, finally saying, “Yes, but only small ones. You’re not to be lifting anything heavier than thirty pounds and should limit your range of movement. No raising your arm above shoulder height for the time being.”
The chemist picked up his bag and turned to excuse himself, “I’ll return tomorrow afternoon with the potion you need, please rest for the remainder of the day. Thank you for trusting me with your care.”
“See ya!” Runeheart called after the man, smirking over at Reyner as she heard the bell on the door jingle to indicate his exit, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The woodworker frowned and wrinkled his brows together in agitation, “Except the part where I’ve been ordered not to do my damn job. So yeah, thanks. ”
The redhead rolled her eyes and reached over to gently poke her friend’s shoulder, eliciting a pain filled hiss from the man. Runeheart gestured at his reaction as if it proved her point.
“Why yes, you’re welcome. ” She snapped before sighing, “Listen, I just don’t want to see you in pain like you’ve been. You’re my best friend and I just want you to be alright.”
Reyner grumbled but didn’t argue. He knew she was right. It was really important to him that he kept working—it was his passion after all—but if he persisted he would just injure himself further. He puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled in surrender.
“I know, I’m sorry . . . you just caught me off guard, that’s all.”
“I kinda had to, Reyner.” The blacksmith said defensively before softening, “You’re a bit stubborn if you didn’t know. Plus, it was a good excuse to get you and the chemist in the same room.”
Reyner was picking up his apron from the floor when she said this and nearly dropped it again, “Wait, what?”
His friend gave him a sly smile and he already knew what her response was going to be. Reyner set his mouth in a firm line and gave her a challenging stare.
“He’s kinda your type.” She winked.
The blond rubbed his face with a hand and turned to head back for the front door, “Oh my gods, Runeheart, no. We’re not having this conversation.”
“Oh, come on! He’s a cutie!”
Reyner rounded the corner of the front desk quickly, as if trying to escape, “How could you tell, he didn’t smile once the entire time he was here!”
“Well, he’s a bit tense, yeah. But a lot of people in town have been hard on him, he’s probably just guarded.” She was close on his heels, not letting him get away from her as he pushed through the door and out into the street, “Just give it a chance!”
“Gods Runeheart, you’re the worst matchmaker ever.”
“And that accent, right? You gotta admit, it would probably be nice to hear him whisper your—”
“ Runeheart! ”
“ HAH, made you blush!”