Strange gives Fitzjames a look of thanks and relief. This will be unpleasant, but if the thing that cursed him and Sabriel is a fairy, a guess Strange is solely making based on prior experience and the feel of the magic, then this should help. If it turns out to be a mortal man...well, it will be easier to kill the enchanter that way.
Strange uncorks the vial, holds it up in a mock toast, and then drains about a third of the dead mouse juice in one gulp. He scrunches up his face in disgust before corking the vial and dropping it back into his pocket.
When Strange opens his eyes again, he feels and sees things change. He hears Una yell about a friend of his and doesn't know if that has happened, is happening, or will happen. There is a taste of rotted tomatoes on his tongue that he knows must be caused by the small, metallic thing lodged at the back of his throat—perhaps that is keeping him from speaking? He feels like he is sinking, deep below the ice, legs somehow heavy and light at the same time. The only thing keeping him from sinking entirely is the feel of Fitzjames's hand on his shoulder.
And look. The man is blooming. Strange sees orchids in his hair and a hibiscus at his chest. He laughs a silent laugh, as he stares at Fitzjames as if he's seeing the man for the first time, looking at him with awe and wonder. Strange reaches out to lightly poke Fitzjames in the chest, a spot that unknown to Strange is the spot where Fitzjames was wounded, almost like Nelson at Trafalger. His free hand goes up to Fitzjames's forehead as he attempts to run his fingers along the man's hairline, where the orchids must be growing from.
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Strange uncorks the vial, holds it up in a mock toast, and then drains about a third of the dead mouse juice in one gulp. He scrunches up his face in disgust before corking the vial and dropping it back into his pocket.
When Strange opens his eyes again, he feels and sees things change. He hears Una yell about a friend of his and doesn't know if that has happened, is happening, or will happen. There is a taste of rotted tomatoes on his tongue that he knows must be caused by the small, metallic thing lodged at the back of his throat—perhaps that is keeping him from speaking? He feels like he is sinking, deep below the ice, legs somehow heavy and light at the same time. The only thing keeping him from sinking entirely is the feel of Fitzjames's hand on his shoulder.
And look. The man is blooming. Strange sees orchids in his hair and a hibiscus at his chest. He laughs a silent laugh, as he stares at Fitzjames as if he's seeing the man for the first time, looking at him with awe and wonder. Strange reaches out to lightly poke Fitzjames in the chest, a spot that unknown to Strange is the spot where Fitzjames was wounded, almost like Nelson at Trafalger. His free hand goes up to Fitzjames's forehead as he attempts to run his fingers along the man's hairline, where the orchids must be growing from.