happilyeverbeginning | And I’ll face all the evils that our love will surely bring [scrooge x magica]

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And I’ll face all the evils that our love will surely bring [scrooge x magica]

Experimental spells were called that for good reason - they weren't things one did without fully knowing and understand its powers. But Magica was many things when she had screamed that incantation - narcissistic and desperate, to start with. It turned out being all-powerful meant nothing when you weren't all-knowing, and the spell had backfired spectacularly. It was a sheer miracle she'd come out of unharmed... for the most part.

The injuries to her body looked worse than they really were, and given her magic, they'd heal quickly. The real issue was her head, as she hadn't woken up in days. Finally, mercifully, she began to wake up, though that in of itself felt like a long, painful process. It hurt just to open her eyes, and thus took her several attempts, the light in the room giving her a headache. She struggled, keeping at it, moaning quietly, her vision initially blurry.

When she could finally make her surroundings - or at least the ceiling, as she still didn't have the strength to move her head just yet - she didn't recognize it. This wasn't where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be...

... Ah. Hm. Uh.

"Where... am I?"

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"My hotel room," Scrooge grouched, "and it took a lot of effort to get you here without having anyone gawping at me."

Underneath the gruff exterior, Scrooge was a bit of a soft touch. He didn't know what the spell she'd intended to use on him was--her taking advantage of him being away from Duckburg and on her home turf due to business in the area--but the backfire had been truly spectacular. It had been tempting to leave her where she'd laid, but he'd found himself irritated by the fact that his mind kept picturing her lying there where she could get robbed or worse.

"You're welcome, by the way."

Magica blinked at the voice - it sounded familiar, but for the life of her, she had no idea who it belonged to. With a grunt, she forced herself onto her arms so she could turn over and look at her supposed savior.

And it happened again - familiarity, but... nothing. She winced, trying to grasp at something, anything that would tie them together... unless he was just a good Samaritan. With a bad temper.

"I've got a million questions, and I don't need you adding more." If he was going to be rude, might as well fire back. After all, she didn't even know where "here" was. Or what happened to her. Or... oh boy.

Oooh boy. Panic struck her hard, clear on her face, her eyes widening.

"Wh... what happened to me?" The sass was gone, and although she was trying to sound brave, there was a definite quiver to her voice.

She didn't remember? Well, that made sense. She had hit the ground rather hard.

"Not really sure. You showed up to make my bad day worse and fired off some new spell you were ranting about. Only it backfired and knocked you out cold for the past three days." He crossed his arms, tapping his foot, as he huffed defensively, "I couldn't just leave you lying there."

In his attempt to answer her question, he just gave her far more confusion. Spell? She blinked down at herself - it explained the outfit, at least, but otherwise her mind was reeling. The headache came back, and she pressed her fingers to her temple in an attempt to fight it off.

"Hang on... this is too much." She loathed to admit the real problem, but clearly she wasn't going to get any further without it. She inhaled deeply, reluctant to speak.

"We... know each other?"

He gave a snort at that. "Of course we...do?"

The last word came out slowly and confused as the meaning of what she'd just asked hit him.

"...What's my name?" he demanded of her suddenly.

It had to be a trick, right? Magica was trying to get him to let his guard down. That...that had to be it.

Magica narrowed his eyes. A shame he had such a handsome face, because he was incredibly annoying. "If I have to ask you if we know each other, what makes you think I know your name?" She snapped, and then winced, laying back down again. The magic was healing her automatically, but with her mind in tatters, it kept stopping, going, stopping, going.

With a grunt, she put her arm over her eyes, mumbling shamefully, "I don't even know my name."

He scrutinized her carefully, trying to find any hint of a lie. Magica wasn't much of an actress, all things considered. She loved the sound of her own voice, and she likely wouldn't be able to keep her beak shut if she thought she was fooling him.

There was no gloating, and instinct told him that this was no lie.

"Magica De Spell." The name was out of his mouth before he'd even made the decision to say it. "That's your name. I'm Scrooge McDuck."

Magica De Spell.

Scrooge McDuck.

It was like trying to light a candle with a dull lighter. There were sparks, something there, but there was no real flame. Just hints and nothing else.

"Magica... De Spell." She repeated slowly, trying to get a feel for it. Why not. There were worse names out there, and hers did sound pretty. Yes, of course it was her name. From what little she saw of herself, she at least had a good body, so, good name to fit.

As for him... she moved her head to look at him again. "All right. I... know magic, apparently, and I was... trying to show you a new spell?" It was the first guess she had. After all, if she was planning to hurt him with that spell, surely he wouldn't have dragged her body away and gotten her a bed. He'd either be too good to be true or an idiot.

"Not...exactly. You were trying to use it on me. Not sure what it was supposed to do though."

Nothing good, most likely. However, he'd keep that behind his beak for now. The last thing he wanted to do was panic her.

It seemed that, like this, she wasn't his enemy. As much as he had to tell himself that this was Magica De Spell and she would likely roast him the moment her memory came back, he couldn't bring himself to be cruel to her.

Ugh. This was going to make things so complicated.

"How does your head feel? You took a nasty fall when the spell backfired."

Use it on him? To do what? How confusing - clearly they couldn't be enemies, or at least deadly ones, because, again, why else take care of her? "I guess it's nice we're both clueless about something." Which made her curious about her powers and what she could do. She wiggled her fingers, expecting something to happen - maybe summon some lightning or fire or something impressive. Instead, she just looked silly.

With a pout, she answered, "I do have a nasty headache... it might be why I can't remember anything. Not my name, not where I live, or even these spells you say I have."

If he cared about her enough to take her here, and they weren't enemies, were they... some sort of... friends?

"To be honest, I don't know the full range of spells that you know."

That was the truth. She likely had all sorts of spells that she never used against him because they weren't offense.

"I always figured you knew some sort of healing spells, but that's a bit of a moot point at the moment. I'll get you some ice and some aspirin."

He got up from his seat. As much as he loathed the ostentatious, he wasn't going to complain when the royal suite had been given to him at no extra charge. Apparently, the owner thought that she could bribe him into buying her out. (It didn't work given the location made the luxury hotel impractical, but he wasn't going to say "no" to the added space that allowed him to relax away from others. Particularly since he was going to be in the room for a month.)

No matter. It worked to his advantage. The suite had three bedrooms, and he'd put her in one of the spare rooms to ensure there'd be no awkward moments.

Healing spells? That made a certain amount of sense. Magica waited until his back was turned, and wiggled her fingers again, trying to will herself to heal. She even muttered what she hoped were magic words. "Abra-ca-heal-ica... eenie meenie miney heal... just fix me up already!"

As expected, nada, zilch, zip, zero, nothing. After a moment she contemplated if Scrooge was lying, but if he was, what would he gain by making a woman out to be a complete loon? So she had no choice but to rely on him.

When he returned with the pills, she forced herself up into a sitting position, and made another reluctant admission. "... Thank you."

He had an ice pack draped on his arm so he could carry both the pills and a glass of water, these latter two items he handed off to her.

It felt strange to hear Magica De Spell thanking him. Almost unnatural.

Still, he told her, "You're welcome."

He set the ice pack down on the bed beside her so she could use it at her leisure.

"You want me to close the drapes so you can have some quiet while you wait for the pills to kick in?"

Magica was quick to down the pills. If her magic wasn't going to work, then she'd have to rely on good old fashioned medicine. She certainly didn't feel magical, although to be fair she didn't know what it was supposed to feel like. She finished the water, then laid back down, taking the pack pack to her head.

"That would be nice." Almost too nice. They had to be something for each other, so, friends it was. Maybe she was trying to use a spell to help him. "You don't seem surprised by lot of this... am I that bad at magic?"

"Actually, you're annoyingly good at it," Scrooge admitted. "The thing is that on the occasions that a spell backfires on you, it doesn't tend to be a small."

That much was true at least.

He closed the curtains, plunging the room into darkness.

Well, now that was nice to hear. She was mighty and all-powerful? Great... even if she didn't feel that way now, she might return to it. She mused quietly to herself about this as she relaxed in the darkness.

"I don't even remember how to cast a spell, so there probably won't be any backfiring for a while." Which meant she could take her time to catch up and heal. What else could she piece together?

"So, Scrooge." She waited a moment to see if they were on a first name basis, before going on. "Is there anyone who's going to wonder where I am?" Family, friends?

Technically, they were on a first name basis...though typically she called him "Scroogie". It was almost strange to hear his actual name passing through her beak.

"To be honest, I don't know," he admitted. "You never talked to me about your personal life or your family. I knew you lived somewhere in this area, but I didn't know where exactly." He paused. "I still don't."

And she was going to need at least one change of clothing if this didn't wear off soon.

...No good deed went unpunished, apparently.

... Wait a minute.

Her eyes flashed open, trying and failing not to glare at him. It wasn't his fault, but...

"Where am I supposed to go?! If I don't have a home or anyone to rely on, what am I supposed to do until my memories come back?!" And that was if they came back - an idea so frightening she tried not to entertain it too much. She shoved the ice pack off, running her hands down her dress to be sure - yep, not a single coin to her name, just the clothes on her back.

Strangely, the idea of missing loved ones didn't exactly bother her. It was more the idea of not having a purpose that scared her.

"Settle down, lass, before you hurt yourself," Scrooge told her sternly. "For right now, you can stay here though I imagine we'll have to go--ugh--shopping for a few necessities. I'll be staying here for the next three weeks, so it's not like you're getting thrown out on the street."

He tapped his foot.

"If you don't get better by then, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. However, I won't leave you out in the cold. You've got my word which is as good as gold."

Edited 2018-10-06 23:13 (UTC)

Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who lost everything! He had somewhere to return to, he knew what he was doing! ... But it was more like she wanted to be mad at him - and couldn't. He was being unreasonably nice, suspiciously so. Even if they were friends, was this normal?

Magica didn't have much in ways of friendship even before she lost her memories. So, in whole, she was clueless and confused. What was with this man? Did he care about her that much, or was he just that naively nice?

She turned over again to study him in the dark, eyebrow raised. "And what do you get out of this?" And why did shopping leave a bad taste in his mouth?

"Quite frankly, I get the satisfaction of not having your suffering on my conscience. I've got enough weighing it down, thanks."

So. Nice it was. Way too nice. It was the sort of kindness that surely would do him in, if he wasn't careful. If they weren't allies, would he have taken in any stranger? And would that be the end of him someday?

What a strange man.

"I must be some confidant." Especially for him to say the latter matter. "I feel like I'm learning more about you than myself."

Likely that would be the end of him someday. Scrooge had a soft spot for hard luck cases when it came to people who actually tried to make their way in life but one thing or another held them back. A good portion of the crazies in the Bin were such people that he'd decided to take a chance on and invest in because he saw something valuable in them, and he'd been paid back rather richly for it in not just profits but their loyalty.

Scrooge snorted. "I'll leave you to get some rest. Don't forget the ice."

"Yes, mother." Immature, yes, but sass begets sass. She put the ice pack back on her forehead, and closed her eyes, moving to her back. Maybe a good rest with some pills and magic would get her back to normal, whatever it was.

But when she was normal, she'd have to pay him back somehow. How, she wasn't sure, but she'd find a way. For all she knew, he saved her life. There had to be a way to thank him, or at least make sure he didn't regret what he'd done.

As she began to relax, she decided to entertain a silly thought - maybe he saved her hoping to get some tail. It was incredibly unlikely, but there was no harm in a little daydreaming.

It was probably for the best that Scrooge had no idea what she was daydreaming about. He probably would've choked on his own spit.

As it was, he retreated to the study. Unlike the blueprints, the study, annoyingly, didn't have a proper desk to work at. Instead, it had a sofa with one end elongated as a lounger. It served as a reading room plus as an extra TV room...as if there weren't enough televisions in the suite.

He stretched out on the sofa with some of the reports he'd brought along to read in-depth. Extended business trips had replaced adventures during those ten years apart from his family, reminding him of those early years when one couldn't just hop on a plane to go to another state for the afternoon. At least being in the area so long would let him get some solid work done...assuming an amnesiac Magica didn't give him too much of a headache.

Ugh. What was he going to do with her if she didn't have her memory back by the time he was supposed to leave? Three weeks was a long time, but suppose she hadn't recovered by then? Then what? Take her back to Duckburg with him?

He really hadn't though this through...

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