(514-08-04) The Sickbed


Seraphina has been carried to a room inside the manor. Next to the door is a pile of clothing, most of it muddy, blood, or a combination of both. Three large basins are near this pile, and the water inside them ranges from red to brown, to a mixture of both. Sera lies on a pile of blankets, dressed in a clean shift, obviously on loan from someone in the household. Braelynn's supply pack has been partially emptied, and bandages, salves, and poultices rest in neat rows on a small table. Braelynn herself, is sitting on the floor, her back to the wall. She watches Sera as she sleeps. Her own exhaustion was obvious before this trip, and now it has expanded exponentially.

There is motion outside, one of the manor guards who was stationed outside the room less the healer Braelynn or Seraphina needed anything called. The door creaks as it is opened and through the threshold another Knight steps in, his Stapleford colors identifying him immediately as Gaius de Stapleford, the crossed Keys heraldry on his shoulder his own calling. At his waist his sword remains sheathed and it seems he brings with him Seraphina's own blade and armor. He stops in the threshold staring forward at the form on the bed, covered in bandages and furs. He glances over to Braelynn giving a soft nod to the other woman as he goes to rest Seraphina's sword at the edge of the bed. "How is she…?"

Red-rimmed, pale green eyes lift to the Stapleford knight and Braelynn considers him for a moment before she responds. She does, however, respond. "She's resting." She looks back at Sera and says to him, "If we can keep the wounds from festering then she'll be ok." Her eyes move back to him and all traces of the glare she gave him earlier are gone. She says tiredly, "Will you send word to Cholderton, and to Sir Padrig that I'll be staying here until she can be moved?"

Braelynn has done a good job of cleaning the Knight while she rested, or passed out, whatever the case that long red hair has been braided to stay out of the way, the shift is a little tight, but she seems more than comfortable. It is the voices that starts to cause a stir from Seraphina, a little gasp of sound before eyes might start to flutter open.

"Word has already been sent… Once Sir Seraphina has recovered properly I would suggest we return her home to Newton Tony Manor so she can recover amongst Family…" Though that would likely mean Gaius can't spend much time with her, he clearly believes that is the best option. "I am sure Sir Padrig will understand…" Though Gaius is not sure when their wedding has been planned for. As the Knight gasps her eyes open Gaius quickly at the side of her bed. His fingers reach to lace through hers and he holds them tight. "Seraph… there you are… what do you need? Say anything and I will get it."

Braelynn nods silently, and lets her head fall back against the wall of the room. While Sera is a study in cleanliness and order, Braelynn is quite the opposite. Her clothes are muddy from dragging Sera from the fighting. She watches the two of them quietly.

Those beautiful amber eyes flicker open and a touch of a smile comes to her lips as Seraphina hears Gaius, her fingers curl into his as she gives him a soft weak chuckle. "I am fine for now.." She whispers, trying not to shift to much, her eyes drink him in and there is a tiny sigh that has her fingers squeezing his own. In truth not much needs to be spoken as she simply looks at him, drinking in his features, a soft caress of eyes not as full of pain. She licks dry lips as if she is going to speak and then she glances around, her eyes narrowing as she finds Brae, "I'm wrong, get them to find something for Brae, she's tired.."

They share that look for a long moment, emerald looking into amber. Its been a wild ride the last few days, and Gaius can only close his eyes and shake his head as he tries to regain his composure. "Of course.. of course." He says and gives Seraphina's hand a soft pat, fingers brushing over hers as he pushes himself up to his feet. "You deserve rest most of all Lady Braelynn… for your skill in keeping Seraphina alive." If it wasn't obvious by now there is something between the two Knights. Between the looks they give, the casualness of their conversation, and the ease of which they speak each others names. Gaius moves to get a spare set of furs, offering them to Braelynn, "I shall go retrieve some water or wine so that you can relax…"

A nod is given to Gaius, and Braelynn, herself moves toward Sera, now that she's awake. Her voice is soft and chiding as she says, "Sera, you don't need to take care of me right now." She lets her hand rest on Sera's cheek and smiles down at the woman and says, "Let me take care of you for once, ok?" She leans in to kiss Sera on the forehead, and takes her hand. Her eyes move to Gaius and she says, "I'd be grateful for that. Thank you." Her voice is genuine, if filled with emotion that betrays the difficulty of the situation she is in. Her looks, her movements, everything is guarded.

Seraphina sighs softly as she watches Gaius stand, but then he is doing something for her, so she can't complain.. really she can't, but her eyes follow him till Braelynn comes closer and she wrinkles her nose gently at the other woman. "I will always worry about you…" She reminds her, trying to give a little impish grin, but it's not as sweet as normal, for the pain is riding her, from bruises to her leg. She then still tries to sit up abit, that causing her to bit her lip, but laying flat is never a good thing for her. "Hurry back.." She says as her eyes find Gaius again. Seraphina hides nothing at all it seems.

Gaius disappears without another word, though a look is cast back. It takes him several minutes to return, giving Seraphina and Braelynn a moment to themselves. When he returns he comes bearing water, bread, and wine. Enough for everyone to both enjoy, relax, and recover. "The steward of the manor has been very kind." he remarks softly as he looks over the two women.

Braelynn releases Seraphina's hand as Gaius returns, chiding her softly, "If you won't lay still I'll have to give you something for sleep, Sera." A glance is given to Gaius, before she returns the gaze to Sera, "It might make you .. less inhibited in words and actions, before it takes effect." She says pointedly, "You'll tell me when you need it, if the pain starts to take hold. Won't you?" She rests her hands in her lap and straightens her spine. Trying, for all outward appearances, to be well composed, but it's not quite convincing.

Seraphina is.. stubborn and she just growls once at Braelynn, but it's playful as it can be, she if push a pillow or three under her if none helps and then will be good to settle and not make things worse. Once up in a slight recline, she can breath better and that allows her voice a little more range as she sticks her tongue out at Braelynn and her threat of pain medicine. Looking for half a moment as a girl without her leg almost taken off. Then it is those eyes that move and stay on Gaius and she smiles softly, her eyes lighting up as she holds out a hand to him, "That was very kind of the steward.." She then takes a deep breath, "Gaius, this is Braelynn, Brae this is Gaius…"

Gaius has clearly missed a few things, or has not looked for them. He doesn't see the exchange of words and motions between Braelynn and Seraphina for what it might possibly be. Perhaps its just the nature of being a good Christian man. Of course… Gaius seems to have a sliding range of good that is affected when ever he is near pagans and the like. Gaius takes his seat next to the bed, laying out some of the food and drink. "Yes I have met Lady Braelynn before… once or twice in Sarum. If I recall there were many cows involved, the beasts seem to plague me when I go near that city…" he rumbles out, shaking his head.

Braelynn chuckles, and reaches down to feel Sera's forehead. The touch is tender, checking for fever as she says tenderly, "I told you, Sera, that I had met your Sir Gaius. Remember?" The concern on her face is evident, and she says, to Gaius, "We'll need to keep an eye on her.. make sure she doesn't start to feel warm." Her eyes rest on him and she says, quietly, "She came to visit… and told me of you."

They have let Seraphina sit up on a bed of furs it seems, Braelynn doesn't seem to happy about it, but the Knight has done so anyway, she is dressed in a shift, that covered everything of course, with a fur covering her stomach and legs.
To one side is Braelynn who is just touching Seraphina's forehead and causing the other woman to wrinkle her nose gently. "Yes, I know Braelynn, but that does not mean I can not make an introduction.." She is awake and aware and her voice is a deep dark husky almost sensual tone, if one likes the whole rough, growling and purr that graces each of her words. Some do, other don't.
To the other is Gaius, he has put out some water wine and something to nibble on, as if making sure those in the room eat. Seraphina turns her eyes to meet his when Brae says whatever she said, and they simply watch him, a long moment passes and she sighs and reaches up to touch his jaw, as if she simply can not stop herself.

Gaius smiles at the touch. During the battle Padrig said something about amor being in the air, and well… this room certainly matches that description in its own way. Gaius touches her hand in response and chides the other Knight a tad, "You need to eat and rest…" He says, breaking bread into strips as well as pour water. No wine for Seraphina yet. She would probably do better with ale anyways as he knows she prefers that and it does a better task of ruling the pain of any wounds. The Knight lays out a plate for her to enjoy before he pushes off his feet and runs a hand through his hair. "Bastard Dorset…" he chews on his words, as if making plans for revenge…

A soft chuckle escapes and Braelynn says to Sera, "You can reintroduce me all you'd like. I'll even pretend to meet him all over again, if it makes you happy." Braelynn reaches over Sera to retrieve a goblet and pour herself a glass of wine. She also retrieves a piece of bread. "You should listen to him. You'll need your strength for healing. Eat." With that, she also unfolds, stretching her body from where she has been crouched for far too long. She walks a short distance away, and takes a swallow of wine. Gaius' talk of revenge seems to trouble her and she says to him, "The last thing Sera needs is to have you running off with visions of anger right now. Revenge is best planned carefully, and when victory is assured." She walks closer, her voice dropping low, not quite out of earshot of Sera, but close "And when it is, if healers are needed. I will volunteer to assist you."

While all of this paints a pretty, quaint, and perhaps a bit of an odd domestic picture, it is about to be disturbed in three..two..one.. *Knock. Knock.* Padrig uses a knuckle to rap quietly on the door, having been guided to the threshold by some helpful old woman after being plied with a couple of mugfuls of ale. It may not have helped matters that he looks downright bedraggled: blood-splattered and disheveled, hastily bandaged and exhausted with dark smudges beneath his eyes and a world-weary expression that is threatening to become permanent. He waits an appropriate three to four seconds before pushing open the door enough to poke his head in. "I'm sorry to disturb, Sir Gaius, my ladies, but I was directed up here when I inquired about room for the wounded. It seems to be one of the last places… Ah."

Padrig's gaze shifts about the room quickly to take in not only Gaius but also Braelynn and Seraphina, whom he had originally mistaken for a lady only and not also a knight. "No, nevermind it. I do not want to disturb you. I can hunker down in the camp with the squires. My cousin is not the worst with bandages, and the healer was kind enough to give me salve for the road." Already he makes as if to back out of the room and depart.

Seraphina is watching Gaius still and she sighs gently as she takes the offered water and bring it to her lips but the food is ignore for the moment. No, the red haired lady, who yes happens to be a Knight, tho Padrig only saw her in ebony armor and a cloak, frowns softly once but her eyes are drawn towards the door as it opens again and she tilts her head to the side. "Sir Padrig.." It is almost a question, but then she shakes her head again, "You are not disturbing anyone, we have one of the best healers here.." She nods towards Braelynn who he might or might not have noticed is the other woman in the room. She then clears her throat softly, "Brae if you would also see to Gaius's arm when you can, I believe he might have forgot to have it looked at…" Her voice is tried and is letting the pain show, but she then takes another sip of water.

Gaius only frowns when Braelynn chides him for his revenge fantasies, and of course he is thinking of other words. The frown remains on his lips for a moment and all he does is nod. Is he acknowledging her offer of assistance or that thinking of revenge now is improper? It is hard to tell. He glances up as the door opens once more, expecting a steward to come in with additional treatments and supplies. Gaius's demeanor seems to change a bit, he is hesitant. He felt a bit more at ease with the women, considering one is whom he is in love with and the other is her friend. He doesn't have to worry so much of courtly standing or appearance. He shakes his head though, "You disturb no one Sir Padrig. You deserve to rest as well." Gaius declares and moves to pat the man on the shoulder, "You fought well… come there is wine and bread." The room is filled with a series of beds for rest and wounded, so there is plenty of room.

Pale green eyes move to the door as it opens and Braelynn moves toward the door. "Sir Padrig!" is exclaimed, and she waves him in. The wine and bread is discarded quickly enough, a movement Braelynn barely registers making. She seems genuinely relieved to see him, and she moves toward the table where she has lined up her healing supplies already. Braelynn, if nothing else, is orderly and precise. She glances up at him and says, "Let me see. I will do what I can." She glances to Seraphina and says to her, "And now it's my turn to make introductions, isn't it? This is Sir Padrig, my betrothed, though you must have known that, as you called him by name." Her eyes move to Padrig and she says to him, "This is Sir Seraphina. She is probably the person dearest to me in the world. We were friends in our childhoods." A hand extends toward him, and she looks to Gauis, "Will you ask for a few more basins of water so I can clean the wounds. Yours as well?" Braelynn, for what it's worth, doesn't look much better than Padrig. Her dress is a mess from assisting to drag Seraphina away from combat, a mix of blood and mud. She is, however, scrubbed spotless from the elbows down, and her sleeves have been cut there, to keep the muddy fabric from getting near the wounds.

Padrig blinks once as Gaius claps him on the shoulder, and no further prompting is necessary to usher him into the room. He closes the door behind him and is swept up into the welcome by Braelynn, whom he greets with as courtly a bow as he can muster, though this earns her much more of a toothy grimace than a smile; the expression is probably far more frightening than it is charming, to say the least. "Ah, oof. Lady Braelynn, really it isn't necessary—I mean…" he begins by way of protest, but she is already introducing him to Seraphina, who also gets a bow, although a lesser one only because he cannot bear to crush his already splintered ribs as it is. "My-my wound?" he inquires, and much to his mortification the tips of his ears turn pink as she begins preparations.

"No, it isn't necessary," Paddy protests, holding out a hand to stay Braelynn's movements. "It is - that is to say - I've wrapped it well enough," he finishes lamely, casting about for a moment for a change of conversation as he perches gingerly on the edge of an unoccupied bed. His right leg extends awkwardly in front of him, and the dark red of semi-dried blood stains the inner thigh of the linen pants typically worn beneath armor. "Unnecessary. I will take care of it, I assure, my lady. I am both humbled and quite grateful for your offer, but I implore you to take a moment to look to yourself, to take some food, and to sit and rest. Please, I insist, and I am sure your dear friends would support me in this."

Seraphina doesn't try to sit up anymore, for the movement before is causing tiny beads of sweat to cling to her forehead. But she does reach up and push back a few curls that have falls in the way as her eyes move to the other Knight. Slowly she studies him before she dips her chin gracefully, "Sir Padrig, I wish we could have met under better times, but it is a pleasure to meet you…" She leaves it at that as her eyes move back to Gaius she notices the way his posture changes and can't help a tiny winces as she looks back down at the water in her hands,
Then Paddy has to be… interesting and she glances up and over to him, and as a Knight she seems to know what she is looking for in his moments. There is a moment as she tilts her head to the side, "Sir Padrig, She is a trained healer, one with skill and knowledge, you must have such a wounds looked to.." Her voice is soft but there is steel within it, and then she takes another sip of her water, before she offers softly, "Or you could make me get up and try and heal you.." It's just offered out, and really she is in so much pain, well it could come off anyway anyone wishes.

It seems Gaius will pay mediator, though he is tired… he is a man of seemingly boundless stamina and energy. "I… will get a less bias healer… if Sir Padrig's dear wife to be tends to him she might be too busy staring into his eyes like a wide pool, searching for that eternal love they will share." He teases, just a bit, and gives the man a knowing look. Despite the rumors all noblemen are not lust driven beasts who like showing off the little noble whenever need be. Gaius motions to one of the other beds before he leans out the door to speak with one of the stewards who then shuffles off to get the household healer to tend to Padrig. It will likely be some dottering old woman, which might scar his fellow knight even more, but at least its not his wife to be. "And you… you're in no position to be commanding. Stop trying to sit up. Lay back…" Gaius turns sharply and marches onto Seraphina to press a hand to her shoulder and nudge her back to bed.

Braelynn, with the experienced eyes of a healer, sizes up Padrig, and as the realization hits her of where his wounds are, her pale face flushes an uncomfortable shade of pink. The blush spreads to her ears and down her neck. Her voice stammers for a moment as she says, "I… uhhh….." She swallows and says to Padrig, "Sera is right, I'm a healer. It's nothing I haven't seen… but if you want… someone else…" She turns at that, and watches Gaius push Sera back down. Her voice is firm as she says, "Sera, you need to rest. If you won't, then I'll have no choice but to give you something to force you to rest." This is the healer in her speaking, and she gives Sera a look that shows she means business. She says to Gaius, while still staring at Sera, "Your arm. Let me see it, then."

Padrig makes a face at Gaius, and this face looks something like a man who might be choking on poison. "It isn't like that at all," he begins by way of protest, but he throws his hands up in resignation as the knight is already at the door and calling for the house healer. Shamefaced, and growing red-cheeked by the minute, he casts Braelynn a look of desperate apology. "It isn't that I doubt your skill at all, Lady Braelynn," he replies slowly, but by the time he manages to find even these fairly decent words to express what must be some kind of terrible inner turmoil, she is back to forcing Seraphina into her place. Well, fine then, and so be it. He can play the broody knight quite well, and he had enough hell in his adolescence to be well-practiced at it, to boot. The Laverstock descends into silence, leaning back on the bed with hands palm-down against the thin pallet and watching as they tend to Seraphina. For all he would try to be broody, it is not really in his nature; his expression is nothing more than that of a tired, perhaps battle-beleaguered knight who is ready for a good wash, some food, and a very long night of sleep. "Do rest, Sir Seraphina. If you cannot do so for yourself, you can do so for those who care for you. When we cannot achieve something on behalf of our own ends, we must do so for the ones we love and admire."

Seraphina oddly enough seems pleased with herself, she puts up no protect as Gaius moves to press her down, but instead of looking at him or Braelynn she glances towards the other Knight and says softly, "Lady Seraphina is fine, no armor, it is easier that way.." She growls softly before reaches up and placing a hand on Gaius's arm as she slides just abit back into the furs and bites her lip with abit of pain as she moved a little to fast. If one is noting these things, she seems pleased because Padrig is not protesting being taken care of.
Now those amber eyes move back to Braelynn and she throws her hands up in surrender, trying to look innocent as her eyes close a moment and then she blinks and turns her attention to Gaius, "Forgive me.." She says very softly.

The house healer is taking their time to arrive so if Padrig wants to submit himself to the tender care of Braelynn, there is plenty of time! Perhaps the pain will be too much for the poor man and he will finally beg for some relief! Gaius smiles at Seraphina, "Always forgiven…" he tells her with a touch of his knuckles to her forehead, perhaps in some kind of show of faith. He grunts as suddenly Braelynn is demanding to see his arm! "My arm? Hm… fine." he says as he rolls up the sleeve of his tunic to show a little gash and cut. It trickles with blood, but its little more then a cut. Gaius glances over to Padrig as he holds up his tunic for Braelynn to tend to the wound. "Wise words Sir Padrig… wise words, and one Sir Seraphina should heed. Rest. There will plenty of time in the future." He looks down at her with somewhat of a promise.

Braelynn glances at Gaius' arm and nods. Then she turns her attention to Padrig again. "Sir Padrig…" She takes a deep breath and continues, "How can we be sure the house healer is skilled? We know I am, and…" The flush returns, "if this marriage happens as it should… your health is paramount to me. If you won't let me heal you, at least let me supervise so I can stop her if she's doing anything blatantly wrong." As she's saying this, she is reaching in the bag to retrieve a bandage and she is wrapping what is little more than a flesh wound on Gaius' arm. Her fingers almost seem to move on their own as she does.

Success
You check your firstaid at 15, you rolled 10.
Braelynn rolls 1d3 and gets (2) for a total of: (2)

Padrig watches the goings on quietly, although he looks away every now and then when he reaches up to rub at his face with his palms. Flakes of blood seem to come out of nowhere, and he isn't quite sure how they managed to get on him in the first place. He is lost in his own thoughts when Braelynn turns her attention back to him, and he glances up with a look of confusion as she offers to heal him once again. "If you insist, I'm not going to dither around about it," he replies in what he can only hope is a nonchalant manner, although his face is a trifle pale as he considers. "A healer slapped a nice little salve on it, but really it just needs a dressing change, I think. In any case, I will abide. I'd rather not have my only pair of pants in my possession currently cut away, and I am afraid Lady Seraphina would leap up out of bed to do just that if I denied you a second time."

With a shrug, Padrig rises up from the bed, and his hand drops to the ties holding his garments in place about his waist. He hesitates, however, clearly aware of the sensibilities of those gathered, and offers Gaius a crooked smile. "I shall leave you to, ah, recuperate in peace for the moment, Sir Gaius. Be sure Lady Seraphina is resting and not faking, hmm? I swear on my honor that Lady Braelynn will see nothing more than my ungainly leg, and probably a bit more ugly wound than even I would care to lay eyes upon." He arches one eyebrow before cocking his head for Braelynn, and he backs away further along the room and turns his back to the others to grant himself, at least, a little modesty. Nobody likes dropping trou in front of an audience.

Gaius winces just a bit as Braelynn expertly applies the bandage without even looking, seeming to have her attention on Padrig as she wraps the cloth around his arm. Gaius prods the wound just a tad and glances up to Padrig. The bravery of the man! The bards will sing about his heroism both on the battle field and off! It will be a rousing song for sure. He starts to draw the curtain around Seraphina's bed, as all the beds have a set of curtains that circles them as this is the manor healing ward, to give himself and the woman some privacy. And of course give Padrig and Braelynn some privacy.

As the curtain closes around Sera's bed Braelynn retrieves the satchel of supplies she had brought with her when she left Sarum. She carries it toward the bed Martin was sitting on, and drops it there, pulling the curtain. Once Gaius and Seraphina are safely out of sight Braelynn almost visibly relaxes. She looks at Padrig thoughtfully and says to him, "Perhaps this would be easier if you would lie down. Then I don't have to… kneel." She reaches up to scratch her hair, the braid barely maintaining its shape as the fiery red curls escape it. She pulls the covers off the bed and indicates the bed to Padrig, while retrieving a clean basin of water that has been brought. She seems to be setting up precisely, laying the bandages out in neat little rows, and a small pot of salve next to it.

Padrig watches in quiet as Gaius and Seraphina are curtained off, and when Braelynn draws their own he lets out a quiet sigh of something that almost sounds like relief. Almost, that is, until she turns back to him and begins the business of attempting the logistics of tending to his leg, and it hits him that there is no not-awkward way of examining one's inner thigh. His nostrils flare in a sign of rebellion, but he stamps down on this feeling as she busies herself with preparations and he sheds his pants and folds them carefully to set them aside. The length of his tunic is quite modest, and the gods are thanked upon this occasion for the tailors of the realm and their ability to craft a tunic that reaches the knees.

The pallet bed groans a bit under Padrig's weight as he seats himself upon it, but he decides against the idea of laying down and instead slides into a reclining position against the head of the bed. He shifts his right leg and hooks his knee over the edge to let his foot dangle, and he tucks the hem of his tunic around himself to reveal a long, deep gash from hip to knee. For sure, folds of muscle are visible beneath, but thankfully no bone, and it's mostly clean. Mostly. "How long have you been tending to wounded knights, then?" he inquires in a slightly strangled voice while attempting to make polite chit-chat. "Since you were knee-high to a man, I bet."

Braelynn's eyes move to his, and she studies him for a moment. She slides to her haunches, kneeling next to him. She slides the tunic up to reveal the thigh, but tucks it perfectly so that any naughty bits are well covered. Even so, a flush creeps over her face. "Knights.. no… not very long." She glances up at him, "To be honest, I'm much more comfortable learning the art of healing than actually performing it." She reaches to the basin, and retrieves a cloth, and begins to clean the wound. Her touch is gentle and precise, and she approaches the wound in an analytical way. "During the seige I was nearby, when the fighting started.. " Her eyes darken and she rinses the rag and begins to clean again, "I froze in fear, and we lost 2 knights that day." Her eyes move back to his, obviously haunted by those memories. "Since then, I guess I've just been trying to make myself right with what happened that day." That's when her eyes move back to the wound, and as she seems satisfied that the dirt is removed, she drops the cloth back in the now dirty basin.

It is easy for one on the outside of things to approach wounds as just wounds, but for Padrig he blanches the minute the cloth touches down on his skin. If bards were to sing romantic ballads of ladies tending to their men and falling into amorous embraces, then the poncy gits were never actually on the receiving end of several inches of steel in tender places. The Laverstock's eyes roll into the back of his head for a moment, and his skull thunks against the wall as a red wave of pain washes through him, even as the hypnotic, quiet hum of Braelynn's voice keeps him tenuously tethered to the conscious realm. "They d-died?" he inquires through gritted teeth, exhaling a loud hiss as she pauses, only to resume the cleaning once more.

"I am quite sorry to hear that, but—" Padrig stops, jaws clenched and leg positively quivering as his thigh flexes, and only when she finishes does he relax with a loud 'guh' of released air. He flops backward like a landed fish and resumes the conversation with a slightly hoarse voice. "But knights know the minute they step foot on the field it is their lot to do or die, and while some of us are lucky to be graced by the touch of a healer, some of us will not be. You will save lives, Lady Braelynn, and will not, but ultimately our fates are in the hands of the gods. If we are meant to die, we will die, and fat lot of good it does us to argue."

Pale green eyes, glance at him and she rests her hands in her lap for a moment, giving him pause before the even more painful process of applying the salve to the wound. "But today the gods put me exactly where I needed to be to keep that from happening. Perhaps they aren't frowning down on me after all. I had quite become convinced they were." She reaches for the pot of salve, and opens it, but simply holds it in her lap. "Today I was exactly where I supposed to be." A soft smile is given, and her attention turns back to the wound. She says to him, "I don't suppose you could just call me Braelynn? My friends call me Brae." She dips her finger in the pot of salve and gives him a glance. She asks quietly, "Are you ready?"

"I thought I was being polite," Padrig replies with a faint smile, opening his eyes long enough to focus on Braelynn; his gaze falls on the pot of salve, though, and the smile falters into a much more dubious expression. He knows what is coming, and he is not going to like it one bit. One hand is lifted up to stay hers for another moment or two, if only so he may brace himself to keep from bellowing out like a giant baby. "Today the gods saw fit to smile upon you, so that you were able to save a close friend from what would have been a most fatal encounter, Braelynn. I think—yes, you can safely say they are not frowning on you at all." He sucks in a deep breath between his teeth then and nods firmly at her to continue. "I wonder much the same myself, being as I was able to ride from one village to the next and back again, assist in repelling two attacks from Dorset, and will ride back in the coming days with the prisoners. I think the gods smiled on all of us this day."

Her expression is grim, but her voice is soft as her finger dips into the wound, coating the severed muscle and meat with the salve. The salve has a stinging antiseptic feel, that combined with the feel of her delicate finger pressing into the wound is surely agony. Her voice goes on though, so quietly, "I don't know if you wanted this marriage. I'm not good at… "People, really, but she doesn't say that, "getting to know people." The finger moves, and she scoops another fingerful of salve, sliding lower into the wound. "But I could be a good wife to you, if you let me." One last drag of her finger, and she stops. She fastens the top back on the salve tightly, and lets her eyes move back to his. Her eyes are red-ringed from the tears shed earlier, but they are sincere when she asks, "Are you ok?"

Success
You check your firstaid at 15, you rolled 11.
Braelynn rolls 1d3 and gets (3) for a total of: (3)

For the second - or third? maybe fourth - time today, darkness plays about the edges of Padrig's vision, and he threatens to swoon on the spot. Luckily he is already sitting down, and luckily he is clutching the edges of the bed in order to keep himself from sliding off to either side. So when Braelynn sets the stinging salve into his already sore injury, he is prepared enough to not burst into tears and weep like a child. He does blink rapidly, however, as the stinging brings tears to his eyes through reflex alone, but he dashes them away with the knuckles of his right hand. Clearing his throat roughly, Padrig is quiet for several minutes following the application, having a great deal to ponder in the moment…such as the possibility of just dying on the spot. There is something to be said about the luck of death in battle.

Finally, however, he has enough control over his wit to respond, although his voice is gruff and it breaks, and he has to clear his throat several times to get any words out. "Yes, I will be fine. It smarts a bit, but it will pass. And…" Hmm, how does one say it delicately. "I am not a man of love, or rather a man in love. I did not have childhood dalliances. I did not leave behind some heartbroken lass. So when my brother declared I would be wed, I asked him when the ceremony should take place. I am not sure it is a matter of want, Braelynn, so much as it simply is. I know you will be a good wife; I could tell from the very beginning. I shall endeavor to not be a piss poor husband for what it is worth."

Braelynn reaches for the bandage and she hooks her hand beneath Padrig's knee, pulling upwards so she can wrap the wound. She begins wrapping before responding to his words, "Are you truly a cad and whoremonger as you stated, or were you simply trying to shock me, Sir Padrig?" She wraps the wound deftly, securing the bandage, before pressing his leg straight on the bed again. Her head tilts, and she studies him curiously, as though he were one of her experiments to be solved. "I suspect that those who find love in their marriages are the lucky ones. I am rarely lucky, though today seems to be the exception." Her hand moves to his waist, and she moves her hands upwards, tracing the lines of his ribs, stopping over a particularly painful spot. She considers this for a moment before saying, "They're broken, but I doubt they'll do any damage. We can wrap your ribs so they're less painful, least."

Padrig is amenable to ministrations, if only because the wrapping is a far less painful process than anything else up to this point. He even exhales a sigh of relief as the tight bandage presses against the wound, providing some degree of support and comfort. The corners of his mouth twitch, and he offers Braelynn a somewhat grim half-smile that wavers with a grunt when she presses against the broken ribs. Those are of little consequence to him, however, and he squints one eye in a semi-dismissive expression. "After I've put my pants back on, perhaps."

And so he leans forward past her to fetch up his clothes, turning to sit on the side of the bed and pull them on one leg at a time. Paddy considers the question carefully as he stands slowly, testing his weight on the bandaged leg and shimmying the garments up over his waist before securing them in place deftly. "I am both, and such is my reputation. I spoke the truth so that you would hear it from me first before anyone else," he answers slowly, lifting up his tunic to reveal his torso. He glances down to the bruises lacing his ribcage, and the criss-crossing of whitish weals - scars from battles previous. He gestures for her to begin the binding and continues: "Well, maybe not a cad, although they go hand-in-hand, don't they? But men often throw their hard-won coin at whores, eager for someone to warm their beds after battle, and if we have not wives, then what other choice? I am no chaste Christian - and by the way, I decry that as a solid myth if ever there was one - and I will not despoil some lord's daughter on a whim. Whores have a wish to make a living, and I have the bloodlust pounding through my veins." He shrugs.

Braelynn rises, and reaches for a much larger roll of bandage. Her tingertips trace the scars for a moment before she pulls her hand away. She wraps her arms around him to secure the bandage, and when the end is tightly secured, she begins to wrap the bruised rips as tightly as she can without causing undue pain. There is pain in her voice, but it's hardly more than she's experienced the rest of the day, as she says, "Perhaps when you have a wife to come home to you will find those dalliances less necessary." She takes a deep breath and exhales, "It's different for women, you know. We aren't free to chase our lusts like men are, but that doesn't mean we don't have them." She secures the end of the bandage and steps away from Padrig. She gives a tired smile in his general direction, "If love is impossible for us, then perhaps we could endeavor to at least like one another. I should be happy with that."

Tilting his head to the side, Padrig watches Braelynn curiously as she winds the bandage around him, and when she steps back he reaches down to tug at it experimentally. He twists from side to side to test it, and immediately regrets it. His breath catches with a hitch, but the pain recedes quickly. The tunic drops, and he is once again in a much more decent state to be addressing such a precarious conversation. He gazes levelly at Braelynn, but he cannot maintain the sober expression for long; his breath escapes him in a quiet laugh and he glances down to his hands, staring at his palms while he shakes his hands. "Braelynn, come now, I am not ignorant to the needs of women. I have spent enough time between their legs to be well aware of their needs. Did I not just say that men without wives seek comfort elsewhere? Men with wives go home to them. Well…mostly. But if that is your request, then…"

The Laverstock knight pauses, considering for a moment what he would be giving up, but offers a solemn nod to Braelynn nonetheless. "It was already my intention, but it seems paltry to say so after the fact." His shoulders roll in a helpless shrug and his smile is wry as he clasps his hands behind his back. "I like you, and while we may never have the passionate bardic romance, there is something to be said for mutual respect, kindness, and true friendship. I hope that we can be true friends, and that is a good kind of love on its own."

Braelynn laughs lightly as she hears his words, and pulls the curtain open, glancing toward the closed curtain around Sera's bed. She gives Padric a smile tinged with sadness as she says, "Perhaps it is the best kind. The kind of passionate love the bards sing about brings only pain, in my experience." She looks again toward the closed curtain, "I must speak with the healer here and assess her abilities. If I find them adequate I think I'd like to go home soon." There is great sadness in her voice, but also resolve, and when Braelynn sets her mind to something - it's set.

When the curtain slides open, it's a sign that Padrig is about to have his balls released from the vice. The slight tension in his body relaxes and he dips into a partial bow for Braelynn as she makes shift to depart. "Please do, and get some rest. Sleep for at least three days. You deserve as much. I will likely see you back in Sarum when we return with the prisoners, but until then take care of yourself as much as you take care of your injured. That is my request of you." Padrig lifts a hand and gestures forward for Braelynn to return to Seraphina's bedside.

"I will." Braelynn gives him a smile and a curtsey, once again returning to the proper lady she feels she has to be, though her clothes are muddy, and her eyes are tired. "Safe travels, and I shall see you again soon in Sarum."

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