32nd Sess, 229 2E: Pain Meds Will Be Needed

Pain Meds Will Be Needed
Summary: Not everyone died. Some are in the infirmary.
OOC Date: 18/Mar/2014
Related: Le Roi Est Mort
Players:
Eoin Arlen Nylie Kierne Robben Lothar Eliylw Cayden Ronan Jennah Elisabeth Emma 
Infirmary - Darfield Castle
The rectangular room has whitewashed walls and a stone floor bare of carpet and rushes. The air smells of vinegar, soap and strong herbs. On a far fall is a line of windows that look outside of the castle. Each of the windows has a widow box filled with fresh herbs and flowers. Along the wall opposite of the windows are about twenty beds in a row. The beds are narrow and simply made of sturdy oak and rope. Each bed has a fresh canvas, straw stuffed mattress covered with heavy unbleached and dyed linen sheets, a pillow, and a blue wool blanket. Next to each bed is a small square table and a stool. One each of the narrow walls are doors leading to other rooms. One leads to the hallway, which in turn leads to the main part of the castle. Across from the main entry are two doors. One leads to the apothecary and still room, and the other leads to the Royal Physician's office.
32nd Sess, 229 2E

It's afternoon in Stormvale and the castle infirmary is busy. The twenty beds have been suplimented with pallets on the floor in places as the wounded from the night before are being tended by just about anyone with any healing ability in the vacinity. Despite the increased occupancy though the place is oddly quiet, almost as if both the healers and the awake know the seriousness of the condition of some of their fellow patients. Off in one corner, not having moved from where he was put, Eoin is lying on a bad with his head wrapped in bandages and most of the rest of him covered with one of the blankets.

Arlen Kincaid had not been present at the immediate fighting. With his brother gone and missing, perhaps even dead, his main thought was to protect the family, keeping guard at the family's apartments to meet potential intruders. Luckily there were none. He's been everywhere today, helping to clean up, checking on things outside, sending plenty of missives to his captains since the castle is on lockdown. Cursing the guards that won't let him pass. Rather exhausted, he finally makes his way to the infirmary to check on things there.

To keep from thinking of what she had seen, what the banquet hall looked like, Nylie had done what she could to help with the injured. She had some skills and had seen to the more minor injuries, to fetching teas and ointments, and when needed food from the kitchen. When there had been a moment to breathe a flurry of missives had been sent along to those she thought would wish..or need some added information. But she had returned to the infirmary, banages would need to be changed, more supplies wrangled up. If she took a path that had he near Eoin's bed every so often, purely coincidence. Right? Currently Nylie was dressed in black, her hair braided back. An arm full of bandages had that she was delivering to some of the bedsides. Catching the arrival, Nylie inclines her head to Arlen.

While the blanket and then bandages may cover the mess the raider's axe made of his gut, his bandaged left hand is visible for any who might look. The window closest is open a fraction and a slight breeze does occasionally ruffle what hair has escaped from the bandages and it's one of those movements that flicks a tuft of hair close enough to his eye to case a fluttering of is eyelids. They aren't openning, not yet, but it's certainly more than he's managed so far today.

Arlen seems relieved when he spots Nylie and heads over to her. "Lady Nylie, how are you?", he asks, looking her over with an expression of conern. "And how are things here? Is there anything I can do to help? Is the Lord Admiral here?" Yup, the man has a great many questions!

"I am safe, Lord Arlen," cause really anything else Nylie might say that has a positive bent would likely be a lie. She does look physically fine, if a bit pale and tired. "They are going as well as can be excepted, some where quite injured, time will be needed for them to recover." Nylie gives a nods,"Aye, he is. Though he took quite the blow to the head, he's not roused since they got him here." Turning to lead Arlen over to that bed,"He is over here," her eyes already turning to take in the bandaged up man on the bed.

Arlen gently places a hand on Kylie's shoulder. "You should get some rest, Mylady.", he says softly, "The castle is safe now." He follows her over to Eoin's bedside to check on the man's state. "I received your message, Mylady - I couldn't go out to the harbour yet, but I've send plenty of messages to his fleet as well as mine."

Nylie gives a faint nod,"I know, but I can't…Every time I close my eyes…I see…." Her words just trail off, had he seen the banquent hall? The blood. Worse yet for her was the King's study. Things that could not be unseen. Sayinfg softly,"Was it not thought safe before?" Could she ever feel safe again? She gives a nod as she steps along side Eoin's bed. "I did not wish for anyone to be caught unaware, for our defenses to suffer more." Pausing a moment before she adds,"His actions…are what saved me."

The faint movement of the hair across his forehead, the sound of approaching feet or even the words being spoken in his proximity. It's likely impossible to pinpoint exact what combination of these, if any, is what causes Eoin to stir, but stir he does. It's not all the way awake, not yet at least, but his eyelids do start to move as if they're trying to open and theres a faint groan as one or other of the wounds starts to make itself felt through the numbness of unconciousness. It's his left hand that twitches though, the bandaging there not seeming very heavy all told.

"It's good to see you well, Mylady.", Arlen confirms, "I will convey my thanks to Lord Eoin when he wakes up." His eyes drift over the man and his bandages thoughtfully. "How bad are his injuries? He'll make it, surely?" He doesn't yet notice the twitching.

"The hand took a crossbolt," likely meant for her, "he also has a serious wound along his gut, though it is the wound to his head that is most worrying, for it went quite deep." Not that it can be seen with all the bandaging. But Nylie is blinking down to Eoin to hear the groan, another blink to see the twitching. It's all a lot more then he's done til now. A hand reaches to brush the hair from his forehead, from the bandage surely. "Eoin? "

The hand flexes again as Nylie touches Eoin's forehead, and his head rolls over so slightly towards her voice. There's a bit more fluttering of eyelids untile they finally do manage to open a crack, brow furrowing at the sudden influx of light. It's obviously not comfortable, for there's a short but sharp intake of breath through his teeth as he screws them shut again for a few moments before once more, slowly, opening them again. He sees Nylie, he sees Arlen, but none of it makes any sense and he tries to form a question.

"A head wound, huh.", Arlen mutters, looking slightly worried. When he notices that the man is actually trying to stir, he wanders off. Nope, he is not fleeing. He returns with a cup of water quickly and holds it out to Nylie.

Her hand drifts from his forehead, moving to his uninjured one to give it a faint touch, Nylie speaking softly,"You are in the infirmary, Eoin." Yes, there is a lack of titles used. A glance up and she accepts the cup of water, her hand leaving Eoin's to do so. And to transfer a touch of water via finger tips to lips which are surely dry. A few drops, nothing more at the moment since he seems to have a question, or trying to form one. "There was an attack last night, " explainantion for where he is. Noting to Arlen,"I should fetch one of the healers, now that he has woken." No doubt…pain meds will be needed.

Eoin may or may not be taking that it, his expression seems to be a mess of pain and confusion mostly, but he is atleast hearing it for he stops trying to form words himself. The changing location of stimuli doesn't seem to be really registering either, but the touch of water is a welcome relief, even if only tiny amounts are actually transfered. As Nylie moves though he tries to track her with his eyes, ending up looking at Arlen again and he blinks a couple of times, before rasping, "the ships?"

Arlen nods to Nylie, fetching a healer is a good idea. Then he turns his attention back to the man, forcing his features into a little smile. "Everything is fine, My Lord Admiral.", he assures him, "I have informed your captains and will oversee things myself until you have recovered sufficently. So please just focus on your recovery, yes?"

A few more drops are granted to Eoin by Nylie, not wishing to risk full drinks without a healer checking him first. A nod of her head to arlen and her hand drifting to give Eoin's a faint squeeze, the uninjured one. Before she is off to send a healer over.

Eoin isn't sure if Alren answered the question he'd meant or not, but then there's not a huge amount he is sure on besides the pain that currently feels to be all comsuming. Something in his brain demands to know though, and he latches onto that, almost desperate to but sure the other understands. "No," he starts, trying to but any degree of force behind it but failing miserably, "the ships,.. Lan, Lani, Lan.. " he gives up in evident frustration there, searching for another word to use before he manages to call up "carracks," from the depths of somewhere.

"They are safe.", Arlen assures the other man. Not that he really knows but right now Eoin needs reassurance, not worry, that much he DOES know. He takes a few steps aside, when a young healer bustles in, checking on the wounds. "Oh oh, Mylord, how do you feel?", the girl asks, "Are you drinking?" She eyes the water briefly. "I'll get you something for the pain…"

Eoin is slowly processing Arlen's latest reply as the healer arrives. He starts to make the very first moves towards a nod but then stops that sharpish as as fresh wave of pain hits him. Staying very still for a few moments until it subsides he flicks his eyes across to the young lass. He doen't know her, she's asking a lot of questions that he isn't really following, and wasn't Nylie there just a moment ago? Waking up, definitely the most painful and confusing thing he's done all day.

Nylie has gone and Arlen faded into the wallpaper, not wanting to get into the way. So there's only the young healer left who also leaves for a bit - to return with a hot cup of tea and some fresh bandages. "Can you drink this for me, Mylord?", she asks politely, "It will help with the pain while I change your bandages…"

Eoin's eyes do flick around a bit, search for the two familiar facies that have upped and disappeared, but as the healer returns he does his best to concentrate on her and what she's saying. Fine motor control of his extremitiesis a little way of, but with the healers assistance he does manage a sip of the tea, before he recoils at the temperature. Once he's recovered again from that sudden movement he rolls his head away from the cup by a few degrees, not wanting to repeat that experience if he can help it. "Hot," he manages, although either it's good stuff or he's tiring quickly for there's blackness creeping into the edgesof his vision.

"Yes, it is, Mylord. It's good for you.", Lizzy smiles and waits until he's half-passed out before she removes the icky bandage from his head to get a good luck at the wound and re-bandage it again. The sight is enough for Arlen to quietly make his exit. Ew.

A While Later

Kierne is, indeed, terribly uncomfortable. He's sweating himself in and out of consciousness, and anything anyone tries to put into him comed right back out by way of half-conscious vomiting. Everything aches and his abdomen is awfully tender and somewhat distended, leaving his only escape from pain in the bliss of being passed out or drugged. No doubt he's been given something for the pain, but, as aforementioned, he's barely been able to keep anything down.

Having been mostly in and out of consciousness as well, the Heir to the Duchy of Weston has been turning around a bit in his bed. Opening his eyes now, and trying to sit up a bit, he winces at once, letting out a bit of a groan now.

Lothar has been in and out of conciousness as well all from a single little cut from an axe across his entire chest… He starts to have more time awake than passed out lately and he's currently going through one of those awake times. He's glancing around the infirmiry trying to figure out where he's at and why…

Kierne takes a breath subtly deeper than the rest. His arms twitch and one half of his face winces as he starts to come to again, the other eyelid peeling back from its twin to let the lightbeams stab him in the eyeball before it rolls back into his head and he squeezes his eyelids shut again.

Life had been marginally easier for a short time, between finally getting everyone bandaged and stiched up, settled and resting to when people had started waking again. Injuries had ranged far and wide from the attack, death to light 'scratches'. Even if she wasn't a healer, Nylie was one of the few who'd not been injured…physically, and having sime minor skill had been seen a fair bit in the infirmary helping out where she could. Bandaging, making or fetching up the odd ointment or potion, fetching up food from the kitchen for those who could keep thing down. Occasionally trying to coax a little bit of liquid into those who weren't keeping much down, and the stray moments simply wetting the lips of those who spent more time knocked out, getting small amounts of liquids into them that way. But the Kilgour seemed to be putting in a fair amount of time trying to care for those who had become injured in defense of those at the festivities, and in turn her family.

While he had, briefly, come round earlier, Eoin has now returned to his previous state of unconcious oblivian. Fresh bandages and having his lips wetted are wonderous, but sleep right now is far better.

Sitting up a bit now, Robben moves his left hand to push away his hair from his forehead. That is, until he stops the movement partially through, looking to his hand rather carefully. Wasn't something missing? One, two, three, four… His expression turning quite horrified for now as he just stares at his hand.

Kierne seems like he might have drifted back off again, but then his eyes both snap open, his nostrils flare in a hurried huffing of air, one arm inches outward to his side as though grabbing for a blade or for the hand of someone who wasn't there. His other elbow plats itself wobbling into the cot and he tries to push himself up, only to find the stabbing pain in his stomach enough to make him retch, even if there's nothing in there to produce at the present moment.

Lothar starts to try and sit up a bit which just causes him to gasp out in pain and just sink right back down onto the bed grunting with short wincing breaths…

That Eoin woke at all had been a sign of hope, even if Nylie checked on him here and there yet in her movements through and about the infirmary. Efforts made to not disturb those who were sleeping, or just plain knocked out, rest was what was needed for most to heal. She'll no doubt need to have Nimue talk to Robben to help him adjust to his…loss. Rough one that. Though with Kierne scrambling around a bit in his cot, least for an injured person and trying to get up when that really isn't a thing he should be trying in the least, the lad will find Nylie at his bedside. A hand gently trying to steady him firt as he dry heaves a bit. "Easy…easy, Lord Squire. No sudden movements, your stomach get upset with you every time. Just rest back and take some slow breathes." Nylie speaking softly, soothingly. Granted, she could understand how one might start from sleep, she'd not been able to even close her eyes since it all occured. She was tired, and pale.

Alas, there is only one Nylie, so it is another that comes up along Lothar's bedside,"Best be resting a spell yet, no need to try and hurry up and out of here." Men! Though they were lucky Wenna wasn't about, she was far more stern about things, or so one has heard.

Lothar nods as the healer has him back laying down, "Oh I know I just wanted to see where I was… I don't recognize this infirmiry where in the city am I?"

Robben continues to watch his hand in quiet, before something else seem to sink in. "Alive…" he mutters to himself, very quietly as he looks around. Better than so many others, right? Pausing to look around at the various people present for now. "Castle…" he offers, as he hears Lothar's words.

Kierne's eyes start to water with the overwhelming waves of pain stabbing through his gut, and he holds his breath for a second to keep from yelling out as he meets Auntie Nylie's eyes. Finally, panting, "What the… fuck…" he stammers over words that had been stalled from almost the first moment random people started showing up all murderous in the banquet hall. Possibly not the most genteel of questions to pose to a Lady, but hopefully she'll forgive him.

Lothar grunts, "The castle? I figured I would have been taken to someplace more fitting of my station like a random apothacary down the road." He glances over at the man who answered his question, "M'lord?"

The healer gives a bit of a nod as she gets Lothar resettled, and Robben offers up an answer,"Ye be up at the castle, most were brought right here being the cloest place. We see to treating anyone." Just a hop skip and a jump away from that blood soaked banquent hall. "Changed up your banages a bit ago, so won't need to fuss at you about them right now. Would you like to try something to drink or eat? Need anything for yer pain?" The inquiries going to both Lothar and Robben as it were.

There is a gentle, almost motherly touch of Nylie's hand as she brushes back some of Kierne's hair form his face. A mild comforting distraction of sorts as he works through the surge of pain. It is not a thing that seems to phase Nylie, the language the question, she's asked much worse in her mind…it's been a rough few months to be a Kilgour. "Not sure we'll ever have a good answer to that. They just wanted us all dead."

"You got to the place fitting of saving us," Robben replies to Lothar, before he smiles. "Thank you for that." Looking around at the various people working in the infirmary at the moment, as if looking for someone in particular. When he doesn't spot that one, he looks a little relieved. "Some water, please? Maybe a little food?" he offers to the healer, quietly now.

Kierne slumps back down where he lay, unbending just as painful as having bent in the first place. He bites his tongue hard, but can't stop the muffled sound of what would have been quite a holler as he does so. He keeps his eyes, widened as they are, fixed intently on Nylie, "Do you, do you know," he speaks in short, sharp bursts of language, breathing in too deeply not something he feels up to. "Sir Ronan? Is he? Is he ok?"

Lothar ughs, "I was just doin my duty m'lord couldn't stand by and let enemies of the kingdom destroy it right in front of me." He nods slightly and winces, "That stung a bit, perhaps some water? Maybe a bit of crust of bread?"

Nylie tries to give Kierne a reassuring look, even if there is concern there as well for she knows ther eis little that can be done to help him with the current pain. Murmuring gently,"No need to rush…I'm not going anywhere." As he works at getting his words out in those bursts. She gives a light nod,"Aye, he is alright. Least uninjured." She pauses a moment,"I've heard from Aidan," actually him, directly being implied there. "He did get injured but he's alright," alive being the important part. "And is traveling south again currently."

The healer gives a nod to the Lothar and Robben,"I'll get you both something and be right on back with it. "

Currently, Nylie is at Kierne's bedside, tending to the semi aggitated young man with a fun old tummy wound. And Robben and Lothar are chatting things up, whilst a healer has just gone to fetch them up some food and drink. And over there in the corner back unconscious in blisful sleep is Eoin, after showing brief signs of life earlier.

Kierne relaxes visibly about the corners of his eyes when he hears that Ronan and Aidan are both still living. He takes that and cherishes it, living off of it and taking respite from the pain in it. Then, on with the list, "Auntie Senga and Uncle Arlen?" he asks, then, eyes widening, "My cousin Faerinia?" He actually skirts his eyes about the room for her, since she's often to be found in the infirmary anyhow.

"Ah…" Robben offers a pained grin to Lothar as he hears that. "More than some did, I fear." Glancing around again, before he looks back to his hand. "Should teach me not to go fencing with a crutch, right?"

There is some relief to see that the news does cause Kierne to relax, that can only help with the pain he is in, even if marginally. Nylie gives a faint nod,"They are fine as well, Lord Arlen was even in here earlier. They were up in the suite and not bothered." It seems the banquet hall and Royal chambers were the main hit areas. Which made people being fed in the Royal Dining room…intereting. Nylie bared her door to it now. "She is fine as well, I have not seen her much personally, but I know she has been about tending to the injured." Surely. Since she's a healer. "I believe she's taken to getting some rest. Think you're up for a few drops of tea, not even a sip, just something to wet your lips?"

It has been horrible. So many injured, so many dead including the King whose loss has turned those here onto their ear. Thankfully Eliylw's been too busy otherwise she'd probably sit somewhere and cry. But there she is, her gray dress stained red here and there, her hands also red from how much she has had to wash them recently, her body held in a postutre that's almost unnatural for how straight it is due to her having to hold herself ridgid to keep from falling over from exhaustion.

The red-headed healer's flitting from bed to bed, keeping an eye on the patients, steadily working her way closer to where the worst of the injured can be found.

Kierne's mind siezes on each new piece of information, that the banquet and royals were targetted, that the rest of the palace remained untouched, but for the dozens of guards and knights in between the hall itself and the invaders. One can almost see his brain working briskly behind his eyes even as they focus directly upon Nylie's. "Don't suppose… drop of… something stronger?" he jokes a little, short of breath though he is.

Nylie gives Kierne a bit of a smile,"If you can manage a few drops of tea, then we can consider something stronger. The tea can help a bit with pain." Well more so if one could actually drink some of it. But Nylie is working in small steps here. Drops, then maybe a sip later. All Kilgour's really, Nylie likely would have been in bad shape if Eoin hadn't gotten her out of the room. Though really, the invaders had wanted to see everyone dead that they coud get their hands upon.

Robben finally shakes his head a little bit to himself. "How many dead yesterday?" he asks, to nobody in particular now. A look to the red-headed healer as well, offering her a brief nod.

That stray healer does return after a time with a pair of trays, offering one firt over to Robben since he's actually sitting up. A glass of water as well as a cup of tea can be found upon it, and also a plate with several slices of bread, a small jar with jam, a small bowl of porriage and some fruit. the injured getting simple foods to start with it seems. Before the other tray is set aside so a hand can be given to help Lothar get set up to offer him a similar tray. It being noted,"The tea helps with sleep and eases pain a touch."

Kierne returns the smile, a lopsided, exhausted gesture, but one that appreciates being smiled at and spoken to kindly. "OK," he answers in a quiet puff of air. It's possible he doesn't remember what happened the last time she tried to give him tea, or else he'd probably be a little more nervous at the prospect of having the tea brought out again.

A hand is drawn wearily over Eli's brow, a sign of her exhaustion that is truly bordering on overwhelming. Hopefully none of the patients see that or else they might grow concerned over whether or not she's still able to do her work. "Can I get anyone anything," she asks to those assembled, injured and visitors alike, her voice held at a respectful level of volume.

A nod does go to another of the infirmary 'helpers' when they pass by, allowing Nylie to stay along with Kierne for the time being. Knowing to well that sometimes just having a bit of a familiar presence near can bring some comfort. When it is brought out, Nylie gives a gentle 'Thanks' to the person. Before noting to Kierne,"No need to move either for just trying a couple of drops. I'll just drip a bit on your lips, help them from being so dry." Waiting for his acknowledgement and agreement, before Nylie does seek to drip a bit of the tea upon the lad's lips.

Prince Cayden Aberdeen has spent most of the day alternating between bouts of conscious and unconscious. He had, after all, lost a good (so to speak) bit of blood. His wounds have been dressed, if somewhat hastily, but with so many wounded and injured, and among them Mobrin royalty, a foreign prince, however allied, hasn't been highest on the priority list. Presently? He could likely best be described as "barely conscious" but it's enough to hear Eli's request, his voice coming in little more than a rasp. "Some water would be lovely."

As the tray is offered to him, Robben takes it a bit more carefully than he would usually do. Taking the glass of water now, he takes a long sip from it, before he lets out a breath. "I'm good… at least right now," he replies to Eliylw, offering a weak smile in the process.

Kierne continues to gaze up into Nylie's eyes, or at her profile when she turns aside. It's like he doesn't have anything else he can look at, or else is just clinging to her presence as the bearer of good news. "It hurts… a lot," he offers up to her, "I know… axe to the stomach… probably never going to feel great," he runs out of air, taking a few short breaths to catch up, reddening across his cheeks, exerted by the protracted speaking. Finally he stills his lips, leaving them just parted to catch a droplet of tea here and there, though swallowing it gives him a prompt reminder of how much he'd thrown up while he was unconscious, given how raw his throat is.

The request is quickly filled by Eliylw who also brings a basin of fresh, cool water and a few clean cloths, the latter items meant to wash Cayden's face if it is needed. The small glass is held out to the prince after she sets the bowl down and she pulls up a low stool to sit upon, making herself comfortable. "I can't stay too long but can help you take a few sips," she explains with a smile. He is helped into a bit more of an upright position so he can drink without spilling. "Just a little bit…" The others' conversations are heard and paid half an ear to but for the most part they're allowed what privacy can be found here.

It's not like the infirmary offers much to look at, especially when one is laid up on a bed. Thus, even if Nylie notices his gazing, she gives it no true thought. She does offer a faint smile,"Aye, I can't imagine it'd ever feel great. Not that an axe to anything is gonna feel to good." Offering a light reminder,"Take your time with speaking." When she notices him running out of air and causing a bit of pain with the exertion for talking so much in one attempt. Only the few drops are given, it is a lightly flavoured tea, a hint of honey to it to help with the throat. Even if only so much there. "We'll see how that settles before trying anymore, alright?"

Lothar accepts the help to get set up and then takes a cup of water off the tray as he takes a sip and just sighs with relief… He takes a look at the tea and takes a sniff of it, "What's in it?"

Once Lothar is settle in a more upright fashion, the healer does help get the tray set for him, least steading it should he wish to take it up himself. "It's a chamomile blend, a hint of honey to it. It isn't strong, if that is yer worry. If the pain is greater, something stronger can be fetched up for you."

Cayden's left hand is useless at the moment (and there may be some question as to whether it will ever properly heal). His right arm is…slightly more useable, but still painful to move at the moment. He sits up though, grimacing at the aches and pains that accompany the movement but making no sound of protest. He accepts the few sips that Eliylw offers, and nods gratefully when she withdraws, "Thank you, Healer." He replies, his voice much less dry-sounding now.

A pale tired Nylie is tending to Kierne and giving him a few drops of tea. A tired, exhausted Eli-belli is tending to Cayden. A random healer is working with Robben and Lothar. ANd Eoin is blissfully sleeping in a corner, swathed in bandages.

Kierne can't help but swallow against the liquid in his throat, as much as it would be easier for him just to let the vague dampness trickle down into his person. He wobbles his head in a feeble assent to Nylie's edict to slow down in speaking. "Tastes good," he offers up the two words once he's gotten enough breath saved up to do so. Then, two more: "Thank yWHHERkk—" his muscles all seize as his insides revolt, his face going the sickly green of dead grass in summer. A cold sweat begins to prickle at his brow and his hands clutch at the edges of the cot to his sides.

Eating some of the food now, Robben glances around at the others present in the infirmary once more. "Thankfully…" he mutters to himself as he lets out another breath now.

Lothar ehhs, "The pain is pretty constant right now like somebody tried to cave my chest in with an axe. I was just curious about what's in the tea I tend to blend my own herbs out in the woods for small aches and pains though I could possibly learn something from the castle's healers."

Eliylw has seen many hurt people although not so many at one time, the last time being when Araltaidan and Caillin were attacked and had to spend some time here to heal. But this… Sighing, she sets the cup down and takes one of the cloths, that then dunked in the basin so it can be dampened. "No need to thank me," she says to Cayden with a sad smile. The wet strip of material is then used to wash Cayden's face, the manner she does so hopefully not as bothersome to the man as she fears it might be. "We will get you healed and back to the comfort of wherever you call home before you know it."

Ronan was involved in some of the fighting in other chambers of the castle and then at once gathered what men he could to ride through the city and search the countryside for any last survivors, means that the attackers came by, and whatever other information or invaders could be run down with the aid of a few Rangers and knights.

Knowing his young wife had at least locked herself in the Sutherland Suite and managed to come to no harm, the Duke of Sutherland has no returned to Darfield Castle. He enters into the infirmary, stripping off his steel gauntlets from his hands, soiled, bloody and armoured with mud upon his spurs and boots. Ronan's dark eyes boldly look over the chamber from where he stands for several seconds to assess the occupents and determine whom within he should seek for first. His helm already removed, Ronan puts his gauntlets into it and begins to walk slowly past the various beds, studying their occupents.

Jennah has at least been back to her suite for a change of clothes and to clean up and now she's returning. She stops at the door and looks around then walks toward Cayden's bed, slowly approaching the end to stay out of the healer's way while she works. She looks him over as she draws near then inclines her head, "Your Highness, good to see you awake," she says, then looks around again. "So many.." she murmurs, the bloody nightmare of the night before still fresh on her mind, well, on everyone's mind, likely.

Nylie gives a little nod to Kierne, already putting the cup aside. Not thinking to try any more until it's been settled for awhile. And good thing as the revolt already starts up. "Try to breathe, slowly," a hand gently pressing to his forhead, Nylie not shying away even if it might only be a few drops that come back up her in the worse case. Though a glance might look about for a healer, as at some point something needs to be kept down by the lad. Another look taken to that ax wound to the stomach that is causing so much of the revolt. Healer she was not, just bedside nurse and changer of bandages.

Kierne sets his features in a grim cast, trying not to frown unduly, keeping his lips in a tight line as he tries to fight the urge to heave. He locks eyes with Nylie and tries his best to follow her instructions, nostrils flaring for a short, swift intake of breath that's let out a split second later. It would be hyperventilating if he weren't holding his breath in between.

"For the moment, Lady Jennah." Cayden replies quietly, his lips ever-so-barely quirking into a very faint smile. He's pale, but his eyes are reasonably clear. Even if he's clearly keeping quite still to avoid as much discomfort as possible. "Are you all right?" He spots Ronan as he passes, giving the man a nod, "Duke Crawford…I hope you and the Duchess are as well as can be expected?"

The healer gives a smile to Lothar at the turn of a joke,"I am sure we might have a few things we can show you, once you've gotten a bit more healing in. We have a fair number who have shared what they've learned in blending their herbs over time, much like you've done. It gives us a fair bit of knowledge to call upon. Though I'll leave you to geting that food and drink into you, and come back along for the tray later. Though if you need anything, just wave one of us down and we'll be right along."

Jennah looks to Eliylw and smiles, "Thank you for your care of all of these wounded," she says. "Is there anything you need?" she asks. "I am not a healer but I will do whatever is needed to help," she offers. She nods to Cayden, "I'm fine," she answers, then looks to Ronan askance, waiting for him to answer Cayden's question.

Lothar nods slightly, "I will thank you." He continues sipping his water as he watches everybody and enjoys his comfortable bed.

Nylie keeps to Kierne's gaze as he tries to work through the pain and urge ot heave, knowing to well that heaving will only make the pain even worse for him again. "Don't hold the breathe, let it out, just breathe. In and out, through your nose," her words coming soft and in a soothing tone, trying to give him something to focus to as she speaks. It may all be for naught in the end, but she does try.

Finishing the eating, Robben looks around for a few moments now. Spotting the newest arrivals, he nods to them very briefly, before slumping back a bit in his bed now. Just keeping quiet, it would seem.

The work is done swiftly but not out of a lack of bedside manner. Eliylw just wants to get out of the way so Cyaden can talk to the others without her presence hindering conversation. Jennah's thanks and offer is enough to make her pause. "There is no need to thank me," she says humbly, still not used to when people voice gratitude for her work as a healer. "If you'd like to help, we could use some more aid in changing beds as needed as well as seeing to the comfort of our patients."

Now Eli rises to her feet and in her hurry to get out of her way she grabs the basin quickly and wheels around once she gives Cayden one more look but with how tired she is she's wobbly in the legs and not to steady on her feet as a result which ends with her almost bumping into the Duke of Sutherland, water sent to slosh over the edge of the porcelain bowl and onto the floor and maybe even Ronan's boots!

The Rioga Duke stops by Cayden's bed, at the foot of it and stiffly bows slightly, "Your Highness, yes. The Duchess was not harmed and my own wounds are not serious." Ronan's armour is somewhat battered, his surcoat stained with dried blood, most of it not his own. His stern face is grim, his mouth thinned, "We have lost many, Prince Cayden. This smacks too much of what happened at Trueborn Keep for them to have come into the castle so easily." Ronan turns his head to look over the other beds, "I seek my squire, lord Kierne Kincaid. Last I had heard, he was sore wounded and I would know if he still lives yet."

Eliylw turns with her water basin and nearly collides into him, barely avoiding it. It gains the Duke's attention, water sloshing out onto his armour and boots. Ronan takes a step back in surprise and looks about to have a sharp word with the woman when he vaguely recognizes her as a healer. Annoyed and tired, he draws a breath to check his temper before he says, "You are a healer, aren't you?"

Kierne white knucles the sides of the cot, eyes fixed obsessively on Nylie's, as though she were the only thing keeping him pinned to the world— so much so that he hasn't even managed to mark the entry of his own Lord Knight, after whom he'd been eagerly asking before. Breaths come in swift-heaving pairs and triplets, shallow enough not to jostle his lower body all that much, labored as they are. He shakes his head slowly as he does so, though whatever he might be trying to tell her is rendered obscure by his decision not to say anything.

"I believe he's over there Duke Crawford." Cayden tilts his head in the vague direction of Kierne's bed, "And I do believe he still lives." There's a noticeable glimmer of relief at the news that Roslin is well, but the tension of knowing just how grave the losses have been still doesn't leave much room for true relaxation. He nods in acknowledgment of Ronan's other words, "As foul of business as I've ever seen, Your Grace. The assailants were fierce…nearly monstrous. I've seen plenty of battle, but when I fell I wasn't sure I would ever wake again." It's said matter-of-factly, though…not with any particularly great dread. "But don't let me keep you. Your Squire awaits." And extended conversation is likely to have Cayden running out of steam quite quickly.

Jennah inclines her head to the healer, "I will do what I can," she says then she gives Ronan a dip of her head as well, though content to listen as he and the Prince talk. It is a dark day and news is traded about with saddened, serious expressions and Jennah frowns too then looks around, eyes fixing on Eoin, and she exhales. "He lives still too.." she says, obviously relieved, though it's spoken mostly to herself.

With the various healers about and people coming and going often enough, Nylie isn't giving new arrivals much attention especially given the tense moment currently at hand with Kierne. The woman may be tired and traumitized in ways beyond words. But she cannot be faulted for the effort to duty and seeing to the injured, even if not a healer. "Just breathe, Kierne, it'll help." One way or another. "Try a slow breathe through the nose," even giving a mild demonstration to try and draw his focus from his stomach and the wound there, and the revolt going on.

A soft gasp of surprise comes from the healer who looks scared, her eyes all wide and her face more pale than normal. A stammered apology is given as she looks between Ronan, Cayden and Jennah while another volunteer rushes to help the Duke dry off and get the water mopped off of the floor with a small handful of rags. The shock is soon replaced by fear and she'd hurry to try and flee but Ronan speaks to her and she finds herself having to remain in place.

"I am, yes Your Grace," she answers almost meekly. Ronan hasn't done much to convey his displeasure of what happened but he has her cowed, what boldness Eli is normally blessed with gone, nowhere to be seen.

Lookking over to the others again, Robben takes a deep breath as well now. "Kid did good, Your Grace," he offers to Ronan, coughing a bit now. "Saved my life too…"

Eli might do well to be intimidated as Ronan can be a bold, short tempered man used to giving orders and being obeyed. His look for an instant was unfriendly but he has kept a firm hold on his tongue and his tone low. A glance to Cayden at news of his squire and the Rioga Duke's dark eyes look in the direction indicated before he gives a nod, "My thanks, Your Highness." To Robben he almost smiles, "I am pleased to hear this, lord Robben, thank you." A breath later, his attention refocuses upon Eli, his deep baritone carefully less steely than it first was at addressing her, "Then you have my thanks for what you do here. I'll let you get on with your duties, mistress. I seek my squire." And now he knows where he should seek Kierne, Ronan steps around Eliylw to go towards the bedside where Nylie herself sits watch.

Kierne does his best at following Nylie's example, but once his lungs fill past a certain point, he tenses into another sharp pang of holy crap pain, giving into the need to retch, a short fount of mostly saliva and acidity with a little bit of tea mixed in flinging itelf across at Nylie, spattering her faintly, though most of it just lands on the tunic Kierne's been dressed in. Another heave brings another faint trickle, this one tinged red with streaks of blood that smear down his chin and neck as he finally goes limp on the cot with an almost audible thud. Hi, Sir.

Well that…went well. Nylie grimaces and her eyes squeeze shut when that bit of spittal and little bit of stomach acid end up sent her way. And at least it's not blood…Oh wait, there's a bit of blood to. A faint sigh comes and her eyes slowly open again, so much for that attempt. "Guess we should have gone for the stronger stuff to start with after all, Kierne," trying to make some lightness of it all. "I'll go get cleaned up and see another tunic for you. Just try to rest some." Giving his arm a faint squeeze, even managing a smile for him, vomit covered and all. The true strength of a Kilgour woman. Missives all day, blood and vomit in their spare time. Pushing to her feet and giving a faint sigh before she does murmur something to a healer before going to get cleaned up.

"Like I told the Lady, there is no need to thank me, Your Grace. I am just happy to be able to help." A quick curtsey is given to Ronan as well as the Prince and his company before she leaves the side of that bed. Another healer comes up to her and whipers, quietly offering her the chance to get something to eat and a couple hours sleep. "In a little while," she promises before turning away, going to set the basin down so she can have her arms free while making another circuit of the infirmary.

Cayden looks back to Jennah, his expression serious as he speaks to her quietly, "I am sorry you had to bear witness to these events, Lady Jennah." He glances down at himself, frowning, "Not exactly my proudest performance. Then again, I've rarely had to face fully armored foes aboard ship." He shifts just a bit, trying to get more comfortable.

Looking between the others around again now, Robben's gaze once more goes to his left hand, and what's no longer there. There's a sigh as he looks around at the others again now, wincing quite a bit as he does. But he keeps silent for the moment.

Jennah looks to Cayden, "I have not suffered as you and the other wounded," she says softly in return. She shakes her head gently, "It was not a performance, your Highness, it was survival, and you survived, and helped others do the same," then she pauses. Even if it was merely being a stand-in pin cushion at times. "Do you need anything?" she asks when he starts to shift around. "Are you able to drink water?"

Kierne looks all kinds of out of it in the aftermath of his latest vomiting. His eyes open and close out of concert with one another, focus drifting forward and backward as Nylie heads off, and the familiar figure of his Lord Knight appears behind the spot she'd vacated. He tries to make words of greeting, but it comes out a hoarse, muffled moan.

"Yes." Cayden replies to Jennah with a slight nod. "Thankfully the wounds to my body were not too deep, or…" He pauses grimacing as he tries not to squirm at the itching and discomfort of freshly-stitched cuts. "Didn't seem to hit anything vital." He glances towards his left, "Not so much…the extremities." He frowns, "The healers are…not certain if they will be able to save my hand…and even less so if it will work properly if they do."

Jennah looks to his left hand and his right and his torso in general, "They do not know the tenacity and stubbornnes of Aberdeen," she says resolutely. No sense entertaining maimed hands this early. "Do we know.." she starts then her voice becomes quieter as she speaks in a whisper to the Prince.
Jennah mutters to Cayden, "… many fell… are?"

Ronan inclines his head as Nylie makes her way past, more focused upon her for a breath until she has departed than his squire. Then the Duke takes the chair she had vacated and turns it about, the back to face Kierne's bed. The Rioga straddles it and sits down, feeling aching sore, stiff muscles, injuries, and fatigue he does not wish to show. He must be a leader of men, a role model of strength and level headed thinking others can look to. And so it is that he studies Kierne, a youth he values almost as much as if the lad were his own son.
A long silence before Ronan speaks low, "They've probably doped you half out of your head with poppy, and if they haven't, I may well wring their necks myself. You don't need to speak, Kierne, lad. I live, the Duchess is unscathed, Rosley's hurt but he'll make it. You I need, but first you must rest and mend."
The Duke's gaze flickers once back towardes the others. Ronan does not know Jennah.

Once it seems like Kieren is alright one of the healers comes by with a clean tunic and helps him put it on, the one just soiled taken to be washed later. That's done as quietly and without intrusion as possible with great care taken not to hurt the poor boy anymore than possible. Ronan's comment about the medicine is missed by her and therefore goes uncommented upon.

Cayden shakes his head ever so slightly, murmuring quietly in return to Jennah. He also tilts his head towards Ronan though without looking at him, a glimmer of humor that doesn't actually reach his eyes flitting across his face as he speaks still quietly but not quite so privately, "I'd rather hoped I would be able to introduce you to the Duke of Sutherland under considerably more pleasant circumstances."
Cayden mutters to Jennah, "… news… have… to share… own… relatively… among the… guards…"

Just listening for now, Robben seems to have drifted off to sleep again now. A smile on his lips as he does so, at least.

Kierne's breathing grows more at peace once his system is voided once more, and, as woozy as he seems, his eyes are vivid and lively, a little bit damp, as though he could take anything but hearing that Ronan needed him, not after the rather dismal showing he'd put up in defense of king and castle. He lifts a hand, resting it briefly on his chest in a salute to his Lord Knight before the healer comes to change his tunic. Sitting up is just about out of the question, and the healer would find the squire's abdomen excessively tender and faintly distended. Though there isn't much in the way of an outward wound, obviously something in there definitely got unkindly treated by the axe slamming into his armor, a hidden wound below the lesser, more obvious one. Once he's let to rest again, he gazes quietly at Ronan, glad to see him alive and in one piece, taking his peace in that, at least.

Jennah nods to Cayden as he speaks then she smiles softly and looks toward the Duke. "Yes, better circumstances would have been my preference as well," she says. She faces the Duke and then inclines her head, "Your Grace, please accept my condolences for your fallen brethren and Mobrin's many wounded, and most certainly her fallen King," she says to him. "We have not met, I am Lady Jennah Ai'Alona of Zauri Isle," she says with a graceful curtsy.

"Please excuse me, Your Grace," the healer whispers to Ronan, "But I do believe that your young man is more grieviously injured than we realized. I do believe we should move him to somewhere more private so he can be tended to more properly." The woman, one of the older, more-matronly healers whose hair is bordering between brunette and gray, reaches out to touch the Sutherland noble upon his shoulder. She then looks at Jennah and curtseys while several others prepare Kierne for moving.

Ronan watches Kierne closely as the healers come in to change him - he did smell rather rank there, acidic. Poor Nylie. The Rioga Duke watches closely, noting what he can of Kierne's injuries. His mouth thins as he watches and he stands up from the chair and moves it to give them more room. "Do what you must. Tend to him well. I've no mind to be loosing him so soon." It sounds more like an /order/ than simply agreement. "I will look in on him in the morning." You can bet your ass he will.

As the healers see to lifting Kierne's entire cot to carry him to another section, or do whatever they must to move him without putting more strain on the boy, the Duke stands watchful and possibly judgemental of their handling of his squire. At least until Jennah's voice draws his attention.

Ronan Crawford studies her belatedly and then inclines his head politely where he stands, now facing the noblewoman. "Zauri Isle…." as though trying to place it within his memory of maps, "Thank you, Lady Ai'Alona. Likely we will loose many more ere we are victorious against our enemies."

Jennah looks to Kierne as well, watching him being carried away then she looks back to Ronan, "I am no soldier but I've never even heard tell of men such as those who preyed upon the wedding party." Her expression grows distant for a moment then she pulls herself back, "Everyone stood bravely..fought.." and her head shakes as she exhales, "Let us hope the victory and justice comes soon," she says then gives him a respectful incline of her head and glance to Cayden.

Kierne keeps his eyes locked on Ronan's face, much as he'd been fixated on Nylie's, before. Is he scared? It could be. He hurts like he's enver hurt before. Vomiting blood, and who knows what's waiting for him wherever the healers are taking him. He doesn't say anything, though— for once, can't think of the right thing to say, so he just communicates what he can with his eyes. Gratitude, affection, some manner of a farewell in case things don't go well. Then closes his eyes and is off.

Cayden nods towards Jennah with a faint smile, then notes, "I thank you for your concern, Lady Jennah, truly. But I do think I'm going to let myself nod off for a while, again." Another glimmer of halfhearted humor as he notes, "I suspect I'll not be difficult to find for a few days."

The Duke's attention is divided because he wishes to watch them moving his squire. Yet Ronan makes himself listen to Jennah and gives her a nod, "Wars are rarely over quickly and are always bloody, lady Jennah. This is only the beginning of it." His gaze rests briefly on Cayden who also needs rest, then back to watching them moving Kierne, setting up privacy screens to do what they must to treat him. Ronan's mouth thins into a hard line, clearly many things upon his mind. "If you will excuse me, I've much to attend to yet." The Rioga Duke turns and with helm in hand, removes his muddy, bloodied, armoured self from the infirmary.

Jennah looks to Prince Cayden and nods her head, "Yes do please rest, I've kept you too long as it is. I will see what else might be needed here and send for supplies or whatever they request.." she says with a slow look around. "Don't go running around the infirmary else I put a bell around your wrist," she says in answser. She nods to Ronan, "Of course, well wishes for the young man," she adds.

The Lady Elisabeth Haravean and Lady Emma Mowbray have come into the Infirmary. Elisabeth looks fresh from travel and as if she has not slept a few days. To the first healer she comes across she speaks. "I am looking for Admiral Eoin Haravean and Baron Eldan Mowbray. We were informed they were injured and resting within." She says her gaze scanning the multitude of beds filled with bandaged men and maybe women. Without waiting for a response she notes her brother in a nearby cot and practically runs to him, a hand coming to her mouth as she notes the state of him.

Jennah looks up from where Cayden has just fallen off to sleep and she steps toward Elisabeth, "Hello, I am Lady Jennah Ai'Alona, the Admiral is just over there," she says with a hand lifted in the direction of a very still, very bandaged man. She glances to him then to Elisabeth and nods, "He stood very valiantly, and is resting, but alive," she says. "That is all I know, I was there but I am not a healer, I can't say anything of his wounds presently," she tells the woman, then gives Emma a gentle nod of her head as well.

Robben softly snores in his own bed, that smile on his face. It might seem that the much beaten and battered Ruxton heir is dreaming, right?

Emma's cheeks are spotted and blotched with red upon coming into the Infirmary with Elisabeth, smelling everything, seeing the carnage, her hands tightly wound together as she braces with a deep breath, "And my father, Baron Eldan?" Her soft voice will ask of Jennah, blue-green gaze seeking out the woman for further information on her own stricken family member.

Elisabeth looks up to the Lady Ai'Alona as she speaks of her brother and gives a little nod. Well he is alive, that much she can witness, though she likes not what she sees at present. She looks back to Emma to see if she has found Eldan here in the Infirmary yet.

Robben stirs a bit now, opening one eye and sitting up. Smile gone as he does, he blinks as he looks around at the people present. "Nnnnh.."

A healer comes to Emma and motions him to Eldan's bed. The man is unconscious and has heavy bandages about his chest. Pale from blood loss. No he does not look good. His manservent is in a nearby cot with his head wrapped against a bad head wound.

Jennah gives Emma a regrettable shake of her head, "I do not know him, a healer will know," she says. "I am from Zauri Isle, I do not know many here as yet. It is happenstance that I know the Admiral, he was seated at the same table as I was at the wedding party." She looks to Elisabeth and Emma each in turn, "I'm sorry I can not be of more help, I did what I could..it happened so fast.." she says then shakes her head. "I must retire for a time, please do excuse me."

Emma's eyes will spring with tears, a hand slapping to her mouth as she gives a small cry before rushing between the beds, a quite abrupt and rude gesture on her part with poor Jennah getting no more than a nod and frown. And there Emma will go to her fathers bedside, settling on the side of it and reaching out to sling an arm across his shoulders as she leans in to hug him, crying into his shoulder as he sleeps.

Seeing the ladies moving to their relatives' bedside, Robben lays down again, eyes closing once more.

Elisabeth squeezes Eoin's hand ever so gently as she looks down at her brother. He is alive. That she has witnessed, though she can tell that his injuries are quite grevious indeed. She looks over to Emma and makes her way over to the younger lady and places a hand upon her shoulder. "The gods will look after our family." She says softly, already praying for such intervention. Such wounds look bad enough to a lay person , but to ladies with healer training…it can only look worse.

Everything does indeed look worse, Emma leaning away from her father with a tear streaked face, nodding her head as her hand lifts to touch upon Elisabeths to squeeze, "I only hope that in looking to them they don't decide to keep them for themselves." Whispered softly, her gaze drifting back to Eldans visage as he lays there, "Perhaps we should pay visit to the temple, pray to the Gods."

"I think the gods are not ready for them or they would have taken them already and they have some weddings to oversee." Elisabeth says trying to manage a smile for the younger lass. She holds a hand for Emma, "Let us go to the temple and pray that they may heal quickly and wake soon." She says softly with encouragement in her voice. She looks to one of the guards. "If Kieryn is asleep, do not wake him, but have a message sent that his brother is alive and well tended to thus far, but our brothers are asleep still and he should take his rest for now."

Emma will take Elisabeths hand as she rises, knowing theres not much she can do right now, "I hope you're right." She'll murmur between soft sobs, waiting for Elisabeth to deliver her message to the guard before she's moving to follow the woman out for a pursuit to the temple.

Elisabeth squeezes Emma's hand as the pair walk out towards a temple. Elisabeth is quiet, perhaps her mind already turned to praying and unsettled by her brother's health. After a time she glances to Emma, "Lord Hadrian seems quite attentive of you." She starts to open a discourse on that matter.

Emma will walk with Elisabeth, leaning into her along their walk, guards and handmaidens following as she nods her head a little, the conversation opened up, "He does, does he not? He's been quite nice to me since Lakeshire, writing letters, he even said he found a landshark for me." Said with a soft smile, the young woman shrugging, "But with my father hurt, there are more important things to think of."

"He seems a different man than I have heard of him. If there is change, perhaps it is born of his affections for you. Be careful, but get to know him well. I was glad for the time Kieryn and I had to get to know one another. By time the betrothal was announced we were more than certain of our feelings for one another and knew no other could make us happy." There is a nod at the words of their brothers. "Kieryn has been a support to me in these last few days as I am sure Hadrian has been for you. It is these times that will mark the way for the future. How they are in in the rough times."

Emma's breath comes as a soft laugh, the young Lady squeezing Elisabeths hand again, "I do not think that it will be allowed to be so, no matter how much he has changed." The girl will say softly, "My best friend Brendolyn will hate me if it happens, and no doubt my father will have heard the stories of Lord Hadrian. I think what I can hope for at best is friendship, though he has been a much needed support for me, yes." Softly murmured, "He has not changed though. He is merely showing the man he truly is. Not the mask he wears to keep the world away."

"If you come to spend time with him and find that this is not the mask, I promise I will speak to Brendolyn to your favor. I had thought ill of him before as well, but my view of him has softened in these last few days." Elisabeth says to Emma, "Perhaps not to get hopes up, but there is no harm in getting to know the man and becoming his friend as long as you have an escort." She says gently and then they are at the temple and slips to quiet as they enter.

"I would wish at least a friend of him, Elisabeth." Emma will confide as they walk along still, the cool spring air biting at her cheeks, "I thank you though, you have seen the man I know he is in these last few days. He can be rough …but so too can not his father? Are they not cut from the same oak?" Entreated softly in the night air as the temple is approached, "His roughness is a lie though. I would hope that if anything, Brendolyn will still remain my friend."

"We have brothers who are sailors, I think rough is not so bad an attribute." Elisabeth says softly to the young woman with a faint smile to her lips. She gives the hand a slight squeeze, "Get to know him and if you tell Brendolyn what you have told me, I would think she would grow in understanding after a time. She might have a little fire about it, but once she settles she will be able to think upon what you have said."

"She's strong, Elisabeth." Emma will state as they head up the stairs of the temple, "A little hard headed, I'd say too, which comes with all those strong willed." But Elisabeths words do help her feel a bit better, "We are ahead of ourselves though, the only thing we need to worry about is /your/ wedding to my brother. What will you wear?" Turning the conversation from herself to other things of interest.

Elisabeth smiles at those words and nods, "That she is. I envy her in a great many ways. She is such a free spirit." Elisabeth speaks in soft spoken words as they stand by the temple. The turn of conversation upon her own wedding causes Lis to smile a bit, "Cassandrah has been working on it since it was announced we were betrothed. A green velvet dress with hanging sleeves lined in white silk." The colors of Greenshire. "I hope to have a circlet of yellow and blue wildflowers as well. It will depend on what is in season when we marry." Colors of Weston. "We have been given permission to wed anytime but we wished not to do it without our brothers in attendance."

Emma listens to the description of the dress, her smile growing as she pictures it, "Oh that would suit you so beautifully, Elisabeth." The young lady gushes, "Most beautifully …Oh. Please do it in a season that is kind, I could not imagine you both marrying on a winters day."

"Hopefully before the spring is out." Elisabeth says before glancing back to the direction of the infirmary, "When they both awake,even if it means holding it at their bedsides." She says softly before smiling back to Emma, "I would not wish for a winter wedding. A winter wedding is a cold bed…is a saying in Greenshire."

"Oh wouldn't that be lovely?" Emma will suddenly state, the idea of doing it in the infirmary, "We could …string herbs all around the room, have small cakes baked, oh - " A bright smile as Emma stops walking to turn to Elisabeth, "Perhaps it would raise their spirits and help them heal faster!"

Elisabeth pauses and turns to Emma at her reaction and nods in confirmation. "I think that sounds lovely. We can have a proper reception another time, but perhaps you are right. Such could give boon to both of them and perhaps a few others while they recover. Life goes on and there is hope in the darkness." The words draw the first bit of excitement to her eyes she has had since the news. If nothing else, the planning will provide a distraction.

"Just something small here, and then we can plan the more proper one for later, at the same time." Emma will state, suddenly finding this all exciting, "I was to help Princess Draventa plan her wedding, but then we all left, but to plan yours, oh - if we do it this spring, so many blooms …" Hands clasp together as she bounces up on her toes a few times, a happy dance of sorts, "Let us pray, then off to our homes. We have much to do. .."

Elisabeth smiles brightly at the words of Emma and leans in to give her a familial cheek kiss, "It is nice to have a little sister Emma and I am glad that I will have one in you." Tears well up in her eyes as she clasps the younger's hand before releasing it as they enter the temple proper. To the God of Light does Elisabeth turn to as many of Greenshire does. Fervent prayers made for an hour or more.

Emma will kiss Elisabeths cheek back, her blue-green eyes shining as she nods, "I am most thankful for an elder sister, perhaps one who finds interest in that which I do." Which healing is already one of the things they share in common! Into the temple they'll go, and Emma will indeed pray.

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