Following this thread.

It had already been a very long day. Aisling was bruised, beaten, and still just a touch dizzy when she arrived at home. And there was this odd lump in her hair that seemed most likely to be a clump of dried blood. Though there wasn't a shortage of grime there either.

"Master was looking for you." Krix appeared as promptly as usual, ears wobbling as she eyed the dirt smudging Aisling's blazer.

Said offending blazer was soon slipped off and handed to the house elf as Aisling smiled down at her. "Can you have this cleaned? And tell Tarron I'll be in the library." She turned away, then back as the house elf stood there for a moment. "And some tea in a few minutes, please."

There was then the crack of Krix disapparating, and Aisling made her way to the library. Though, if one was being generous, almost all of their estate would qualify as one. The library proper, however, had a selection of cushy, comfortable old chairs that she was quite fond of, and she soon collapsed into one without even taking the time to look for a book. It seemed that getting hit by flying muggles could be rather exhausting.

The day had been a normal one - busy, but not unpleasantly so. The evening and return to their warm and comfortable (and above all, quiet) home had been a welcome time to relax, and he'd swept home as he usually did, coming up via the floo network and hanging up his hat.

Then, as per the routine, the next stop had been the library - where he now sat, book open before him and a set of parchment and quills next to it. He was taking careful notes on the application of runes when the door opened and Aisling arrived; he greeted her with a glance up and a fast but warm smile.

"Good evening," he said, and it took him a moment to pause and look back up; the momentary glimpse had been enough to key him in that something was off about his wife, and in looking back up he could do nought but raise an eyebrow.

"My word-" He stood up, coming around the desk in one smooth movement, the familiar route changed only via his urgency. The dirt and grime might not have rushed him, but the patches of blood on her head certainly did. "What in the world happened?" He asked her, reaching for her head.

Her head was still a bit tender, and so Aisling flinched away for a moment before relaxing back into Tarron's hands. "Bit of an emergency at work. Apologies. I would have sent an owl if I had time." She'd only intended to be gone for an hour or so, not most of the day.

And now that she'd stopped, rather than rushing about back and forth, she could feel just how much her head hurt. Which was the appropriate amount for having been first hit into a wall and then down into the street. "Muggles were getting knocked about by their own sneezes. I was hit by a couple of-" Tiny little shifts revealed one particularly sore spot on the back of her skull. The tea sounded better with every moment.

A slow exhalation followed, as she allowed her head to lean back properly into her hands. "The healers took the injured Muggles to St. Mungo's. There were so many to take care of, I couldn't ask for too much attention." Things had been rather a mess, and well, she was still perfectly capable of both walking and speaking, so it couldn't be too bad. "I'm not getting blood on the chair, am I?"

The flinch under his fingers wasn't encouraging. Tarron scowled worriedly, the angle of his beard and brows the dead giveaways to how hard his lips were pressed together. He was no trained Healer, and he knew well that the love he had for the woman before him could make any small wound seem ten times worse than it truly was - but even so...she seemed 'out of it' as some of his more modern cohorts might say.

"What was it you were struck with?" He asked, kneeling at the armchair's side, looking up at her eyes. They seemed a bit...off, though he was finding it hard to place what was wrong with them. They hadn't changed color, nor had her pupils changed shape, but...something was wrong.  "Don't worry about the chair," he added, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He drew his wand and tried to remember the incantation for the bleeding halt charms.

"How much does it hurt?"

"The wall wasn't bad. It was when I was knocked down into the street that it began to do more than sting." Aisling was still attentive enough to notice the worry on her husband's face, and she turned her head to follow his movements.

Which made her feel a bit dizzy, and she leaned back, carefully resting her head so that there wasn't too much pressure on the sorer points. "So I hit...bricks? Pavement? Hard, but I can't remember exactly." She had been far more interest in continuing to function at that particular time, with work to do and all that.

"It hurts a bit. Think I'll have a lump or two. Tired." It was just then that Krix reappeared with a tray carrying a teapot and matching cups. The house elf set them down on a nearby table and gave Tarron a questioning look. Her ears twitched.

"I opened the cuts, didn't I?" The weight of newly formed scabs seemed to have shifted to a faint trickle on the back of her head. She looked over to Tarron again, the movements made rather rough by her current state.

She said it so casually, as if it was simply a routine occurrence (which he hoped it bloody well wasn't - Aisling could have hidden that sort of thing from him easily, he knew) but it certainly wasn't, not to him. His worried frown turned rather quickly into a full on disapproving scowl, though it maintained an air of worry around the whiskers.

"You should have alerted the Healers," he said, rather gruffly, and stood as Krix brought in tea. He nodded to the elf, who departed at the silent command. "I am no trained Healer and cannot tell if it is indeed just a lump - but I would prefer you visited them and got their opinion. You seem a bit off."

As he said this, he extended his hand with two fingers out, moving his hand in a straight line before her eyes. He watched as she struggled the follow the motion, sighing. He wasn't sure what that meant, but - "Are you experiencing any other symptoms other than pain?" He asked.

Tarron was the one person around whom Aisling truly allowed herself to relax. However, he also had an interest in preventing her from setting aside issues until a perfect time  (in other words, never), came about. In this case, she would have to admit that it was probably a positive approach to the matter. "The room isn't actually spinning, is it?"

That wasn't the best sign. Not at all. She yawned, turning her head in an attempt to follow Tarron, struggling with that as much as she had trying to follow his hand. "You're going to be insistent, I suppose." If she hadn't been feeling so exhausted she might have argued more, but as matters were it sounded far too tiring. And well, he was probably right. Which made this something she wouldn't hear the end of for a bit.

"Should I put on something more respectable first? I'm certain I look a dreadful mess now." The last words were distended into a yawn, and she then attempted to brush a bit of escaped hair back from her face.

He looked at her sharply at her seemingly dazed remark, and shook his head as he crossed the room to his desk, looking for one of the maps of London - of true London, as he thought of it. With his wife having an injured head, he was hesitant to rely on the floo network - gods knew that was terrible even without a blow to the skull - and Apperation would be difficult as he was not reliably familiar with the St. Mungos area. 

Well, then...

 "You're going to be insistent, I suppose."

"Indeed," he replied, gruffly, as he located the map and shoved it unceremoniously into his coat pocket. "Krix - fetch a coat for Mistress," he said, and the elf vanished to do just that as he turned back to Aisling. "Which would you prefer - that I attempt to take you to the hospital myself, or than we have Krix transport us?"

It was hard to follow Tarron as he moved about the room, and Aisling felt herself growing more dizzy as she attempted to do so.  Let alone when she tried to look at the map.

She tilted her head at the question, then struggled to her feet. Krix reappeared behind her and stretched to tiptoes to help Aisling put on the coat, a particularly warm and heavy thing. This struggle took a few moments longer than it should have, but eventually Aisling was all bundled up and endeavoring to look dignified. Given the situation, she managed to succeed quite admirably.

"Best to have Krix take us. I'd hate to be lost in this state, and the disorientation should be short."  She walked over towards Tarron, the first steps relatively steady, the last few much less so. "I do hope it doesn't take too long, they likely have dozens of patients with similar injuries."

"Very well," he said, walking over to her as she struggled with her coat. He reached over and tugged it across her shoulders to assist, hand falling to her arm when the jacket was fully in place. "Krix," he said, rather more sharply than he usually addressed the elf. She stood to attention.

He took Aisling's arm - in the proper manner, of course - to give her enough support for the trip. Elf transportation was, admittedly, far more easy to handle than normal Apparition. But with such a head injury, either was going to be disorienting and unpleasant. Still, it was better than the Floo.

"St. Mungos lobby, if you would," he told the elf. "And do have dinner ready when we return."

The elf squeaked a little, as was her wont, and snapped her fingers. In a flash, the house was gone, and the sensation was rather as if they'd dropped through the floor; vertigo took hold, only dissipating when their feet touched the tiles of the St. Mungos lobby.