That Same Night in Early March 2009, Near Frieburg, Germany

It was the telltale tug of his senses that let Magnus know something had gone wrong. Magnus wasn't one to fret overmuch about what went on with his sire. Danger was part of unlife, afterall. The family stood on it's adherence ot the principle that that the gods would look out for all and let them each know when they and where they were needed.

Squabbles about minor issues broke on occasion. He and Thora had many such battles. This Jason McClintoch had been but the latest in a series of disagreements that had spanned the 900 years that they had known each other. She had even called their sire to Ordeal over it, and lost. Thora had been completely convinced, since the first stirrings of desire for the young Brujah, that nothing could come of it but disaster.

As Magnus grabbed the huge axe from its resting place by the door and called the gate into being, he conceded to himself that she may just have been right.

Magnus stepped through the gate built of faith and prayer, axe at the ready, prepared for whatever lay there. He set foot into Fursa's sanctum cautiously, greeted only by the sound of his footsteps and the occasionaly hiss of the dozen or so oil lamps that burned ceaselessly.

Jason was uneasy in his day torpor, Fursa lay beside him. Magnus threw a tendril of though at her, knowing there would be no reply, yet holding out some kind of hope that she was still holding near enough to hear him. The huge man settled in at the foot of the bed they shared in this sacred space and waited, watching.

He never measured time and so had no idea how long he sat there in contemplation. His thoughts were widely his own on this. Finally, he reached out a hand to Jason and shook him gently awake.

Jason murmurred and stirred awake, fumbling out with one arm to grasp at the hand on his shoulder, eyes blinking groggily awake, "Tim'kn?"

The huge hand, a very hairy one at that, remained where Magnus put it. It was his choice to the man come to himself before confusing the issue with conversation. Things were tenuous enough, without a surprise visit setting off unneeded tensions.

Jason slowly sat himself up, rubbing at his eyes once as he shook off the delayed slumber, grumbling the moment he realized who it was, "The hell, does EVERYONE in this family get up before the sun goes down?"

A chuckle parted the Gangrel's lips in a feral sort of amusement. Such as they were were not affected the same way by the presence of Sunna in the sky. He remained quiet a moment more before a soft voice that started deep inside his massive chest broke his silence, "It has been dark for an hour in your world."

Jason finally removed his hands from his face and focussed his gaze, then looked up at Magnus, "Damn. You travel fast."

Magnus realized that the world needed to retain a few of its secrets this night, so he thus avoided discussing how he arrived. He glanced at Fursa where she lay, "She is my sire...." Somehow, it was all that really needed saying, but he continued, mostly for Jason's comfort, "She lives."

Jason took a slow breath to speak and nodded, finally rising up, "Yes, but she sleeps again. It was not...a pleasant afternoon."

A single nod from the huge Gangrel, "I am aware."

Jason eyes you for a moment and just nods, "I'm not going to even ask how, but okay."

/I forget that you are not 'like' us. Perhaps better for you. Perhaps not./ Magnus sat back and said quietly, "Thora and I share much with your...wife." He accepted their union, even if he didn't always like it.

Jason paused, "Thora isn't here...is she?"

/Thora would be amused to hear your dread./ Magnus shook his huge head and crossed his hands into his lap. "She chases Sunna as I did." Thora was not far behind, well he knew it.

Jason murmurred, "Well, at least I have a day's grace. Well, I have an...internal thing...I have to deal with...and I dont think Im going to be able to get her back to the waking world until I do..."

Thora would disappoint him well enough on her own, he would say nothing of it. Magnus just nodded, letting Jason talk. It was time to listen and time to understand what was happening. Many things rode on the ability to understand and act should it be required.

"Unless you have an idea...considering matters....I was hoping you did."

Magnus peered at Jason keenly and studied him. "Who are you?" was all he asked. His gaze was heavy and his eyes probing as he watched and learned. Many other questions abounded within his mind, but there was time and place for everything under Sunna's sky.

"Oooo, there's the question of the hour. I remember....what was Hrothgar....but that doesnt accept or remember....anything beyond that life. I have to....educate myself.""

"They loved each other."

Jason nodded slowly, "I knew that well before any of this happened."

Magnus rose from his seat and went to the altar. It was time to drink. Out came the big bottle of mead and a vessel to drink it from, "When I asked you to send her a worthy mate, I had not expected..." He poured the drink and brought it back to his seat. Mead, especially Fursa's mead, would make this at least a vaguely comfortable experience.

Jason lifted one brow and watched Magnus for a moment, "That she would be sent back her original husband?"

Magnus's acceptance of the fact was absolute. He knew, since that night at Harbard's, perhaps all along, what was going on. "Your view is narrow. Widen your perspective and -see-." Jason had a great deal to learn and deal with soon. How he fared might affect how She fared.

"Widen my perspective? Holy hell, I thought I was doing good understanding and following what was going on so far, rather than letting it make me Harvey's new best friend..."

Magnus was a strange mix of practical man and spiritual being. He laughed outloud, a boisterous one that hid his subtle worries about all of this. After a minute he stopped after and said "You -are- kindred--and so very Brujah." He then laughed a little more. "I envy you."

Jason watches for a moment, then smirked and adds, "I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you."

Magnus felt the twinge. That creeping bitterness tinged his voice with the emotion, "She can love you. Be glad that the gods have seen fit to bless you to give you new life, Hrothgar Ragnavaldsson." Magnus spoke directly, calling to the being before him so that he communicated with both of the disparate parts of him.

Jason held up one hand and wavered a little, as if with a small headache, "He hears you fine...I'm just, enforcing my will for now as I think things are bad enough. I need to meditate after a bit, I think, and have things out."

/How like a Brujah to need conflict at such a time./ Magnus looked at Jason directly and more plainly, "You must accept him...." He felt the shimmer of power that indicated another coming to join them. The colors of the rainbow emmanated from the wall beside the door. A figure was silhouetted in that light it waited there. He knew it to be Thora and glanced back toward the door. He nodded to her in the shimmering light and looked back to complete the thought "You are the same." Fighting for dominance was very much the wrong thing to do, even if Jason didn't believe it.

Jason narrowed his eyes faintly at the light and murmrred, "I accept him fine...but we need to have a talk first."

The figured stepped through and the light behind it fades. It steps forward into the room and the light fell on Thora, her feral eyes telling a thousand stories. She refrained from saying anything, apart from a polite nod of acknowledgement to both and a murmurred "Magnus...Jason...." Her eyes fell to her sire and she looked away toward a statue in the corner to give a prayerful salute.

Jason murmurred, "So much for a day's grace..", then in a louder, but still murmured voice, "Hello Thora."

Thora didn't acknowledge Jason at first. Her interest was clearly elsewhere, checking the spiritual boundaries that Fursa had build around the room. The magick, bound into the art upon and even the very material of the walls radiated back to her. She looked at them, or rather stared at them in a sort of awe. Fursa's skills with spirit charms and such were unparalleled. Pausing her examinations, she looked to Magnus and asks "She lives?"

Magnus nodded once "She does."

It was meant to be a redundant question, of course.

Jason folded his arms, closing his eyes for a moment, then reopening them and looking down at Fursa, kneeling down beside the bed to reach for her face, and stroke her cheek.

Thora snorted at Magnus a little and then gave Jason a look. No, she would not blame him. Well she knew better and there was little point in it. "This is not your fault." she admitted loudly enough to be heard. She would give him concessions, for now. Shifting from the grieving husband, she gave Magnus a dirty look and said pointedly "I know where the fault lies."

Jason turned his head and looked up at Thora, "Do you think I even care whose fault you think it is? I thought you were older than me."

Magnus shifted uncomfortably and then looked away from his sibling to his sire. "I did what I felt best." Yes, -his- prayers had been answered. It had only taken six centuries.

Jason looked back down at Fursa and closed his eyes, relaxing a little and slipping his speech into Swedish, "Rest yourself...hear me and come back to me when you are ready, my wife..."

Thora watched Jason but a moment before looking at Magnus steadily. Her general anger with this situation was sufficient, there was no need to incite. "You did. But at what cost?" she asked, turning away from him in disgust. Magnus was reckless and had been for as long as she had known him. She approached her sire, slowly dropping her cloak to the floor. Ignoring the chiding from Jason, she bit back what she wanted to say...or yell.... She got close enough to kneel by Fursa, looking at her, feeling a certain helplessness in this situation.

~~So close, Sire...Mother.... Now is not the time to give up!~~ Thora, perhaps knew more than any, Fursa's need. She never wanted to admit to anyone that she held a secret admiration for Jason, that he could inspire as he did, the dynamism that she knew from Fursa when she was first embraced. The sheer Faith within the Ancient had changed everything, had brought Thora and her sister to freedom from Christian oppressors. Hagar had gone on to marriage and settled into love and prosperity on a stead near Gotennachtstad, borne children, and carried on the mortal line because of the sacrifices that Fursa had made. It would be easy to rage now, but widely pointless.

Did it matter that Jason was Hrothgar? Thora was unsure. In the end, all that mattered to her was her sire, and that the work continue. What Fursa did, both for the Gods and the Clan, was important enough that she would practice the restraint needed to repair the situation. Giving Jason a look that requested permission, her own speech slipped into the same ancient Swedish "Allow me to mend her arm."

Jason rocked backed on his heels, murmuring, "Go ahead..."

Magnus watched in a detached way. He looked neither guilty nor vindicated by Thora's unwillingness to fight. She wouldn't readily break the Peace and they both knew it. He believed firmly that no matter the hardship, that somehow, the right thing had been done--he had to.

With a small blade she produced from the folds of her shirt, Thora slit open the careful wrapping that Jason had done on Fursa's arm. She sniffed at the wounds and then asked in Swedish "What did she use?"

Jason nodded at the cabinet, "Ritual knife. She was trying to banish what she thought was possessing me."

Thora arched a brow and then shot Magnus another look. Idiocy. Her whiteless brown eyes returned to Jason and then she said quietly to the torporous Fursa "I will heal you, Mother." Arkien's gift would do what was required; the Salubri had been most generous in return for her many small deeds. She called the Blood and lapped at the wounded arm and the wounds slowly began to vanish.

Jason rose to his feet and linked his hands behind his back, silent for the moment.

Magnus frowned at it all, watching from his place at the side of the bed. Thora simply didn't understand and never would. Enlightened as he was, he had never really understood her and likely never would. She was abrasive and curt from her mortal days. Nothing had changed.

It took time for Thora to heal the brutal wounding. She lapped up the last of the blood from her sire's palm and then closed her eyes. The sense of fear and pain in the essence troubled her. She made a pained face, trying to know the cause and maybe be able to do her workings and prayers to be of help.

Jason murmurred softly, "Thank you..."

She lifted her gaze to Jason and nodded. Healing was her duty, and her birthright. Fursa was what was important, though she reserved a measure of irritation for Magnus. "I will go attend to the needs of the House. Timkin will need guidance."

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but instead just nodded, "Alright then."

Magnus looked at Thora and sighed. He offered her a nod as she went to leave. They would argue later about this, loudly. He looked to Jason and studied him some more. Watching was something he was good at as drinking or axe fighting.

Thora left the room with nothing more than a nod. To anyone present, it was apparent that Fursa and Thora, in many important ways, were just alike.

Jason took a shallow breath and lowered his head to watch the sleeping ancient on the bed, furrowing his brow a little.

Magnus continued his intent and silent watch. It wasn't easy to admit to his feelings, as they threatened to rule him. This was, no matter the potential for good, a difficult predicament. He didn't really -know- Jason, though he realized the soul within him was noble and great. He had doubts too. What if the Darkness eclipsed this one before he could be brought to know? The risk had been great, especially to Fursa, but deep down he knew had been right.

Jason finally lifted his gaze to look back at Magnus, staring back at him for a moment.

"Do you believe in her?" It was a simple question, with an answer both simple and complex. What Jason believed would make all the difference.

Jason said "If I didnt, we would have never gotten this far..."

Magnus smiled a small, genuine smile at that. "When I realized that she could never love me as she loved Him, I prayed to Him that He might find a worthy mate for her."

A faint smirk Jason came with his reply, "I guess he didn't think anyone else was worthy enough. Typical male, hmm?"

/Perhaps no one else -was-. Don't you understand? Maybe not./ Magnus looked away, "When she announced her plans to wed you, I was...jealous."

Jason lifts a brow, "Magnus...I'm flattered." He grinned slowly, "But I mention that to anyone else and I'm dog kibble, right?"

/You won't, because you honor your wife enough to not make a fool of her with such loose speech./ Magnus smiled only a little "When she wakes, her husband, remember that she waited for you. Not even Kern held her as you have...as He did."

Jason nodded slowly, "I know...she is worshipped in my eyes, and will be reminded of it every time she sees me look at her."

Rising Magnus came closer to Jason. Now was the time to do what he was honor bound to do. The labor was no longer rightfully his. Pausing, the huge Gangrel said quietly, "I offer you weregeld for the harm I have done you and our Drighten." He looked to Fursa and takes her hand in his, pressing it to his forehead, "Be well again, sire."

Jason furrowed his brow faintly and murmurred, "Harm? You're family..."

Magnus nodded once, "I am her Childe. You are her husband...twice." There was a pecking order, even if the Brujah didn't understand it yet.

Jason protested quietly, "But I am hardly your elder. I would be happy if we regarded each other on equal footing...my concern is helping her..."

He paused and then bowed his head to Jason, making it apparent that he held the subordinate position. Magnus never stood much on ceremony, either way. In all the important ways, he was still a Swede, and a Viking whom might well still sail the seas of the world in a longboat, if the world had a place for such things. "I have been her Thane for one thousand, thirty-three years. I have been her child for one thousand, this past Solstice. My oaths to her still apply." He laid her hand back across her chest and said "You must know...don't you?"

Jason shook his head, "No....we didnt talk much about you and Thora and the family. We had our hands full here."

Magnus shook his shaggy head. No, he didn't understand yet. "Do you not share...intimacy?"

Jason frowned slightly and cleared his throat, "Well, yes, of course..

Magnus looked at him, then asked "Can't you taste it?"

"Taste what?"

Magnus sat back, never realizing that the Brujah hadn't noticed the taste in her vitae. /How could you not? I knew from the first, Jason./ "She is God-touched. I think she is hovering at the edge of the dream, that of true Peace." and if he was right, Fursa would be made or broken here. Everything became important in the face of that.

Jason shook his head, "I did not notice that...but then, when you have nothing to compare to..."

Magnus studied him, perhaps more closely than before. /Perhaps now you will look harder, Hrothgar Ragnavaldsson. You are kindred now and can learn such things. That is, if you aren't too bullheaded and stunted by your nature./ He rose from his pplace beside her, troubled, "I will leave you alone for a while. Thora will need assistance." For now, he was forbidden to be more than a guide. Jason McClintoch had a lot to learn about life and love--and apparently his mate.

Jason looked back down at Fursa, frowning a little more, "Sure...yeah...." He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her arm, growing quiet.

Fursa lay there, still and torporous, as Magnus withdrew from the room. No, his soul wasn't completely at peace with this, but he had faith. She had taught him to believe so very long ago, and believed so strongly herself, that it was habit to expect a miracle. The world, he knew, was full of them.