RP:Don't Break What You Can't Fix

Summary: After Brennia and Thamalys' duel in the Titan's of Winter Tournament, he brings her back to Ara in order to heal her wing which he broke when she lost. It's weird. It's an old avian thing, don't worry about it.

This is a Healer's Guild RP.

House of Ara

Thamalys shoved all his weight into the double doors, his left shoulder pushing one of them open that much he needed to enter the House of Ara. In his arms, the slumped features of the wounded bard, whom he had carried without any delay from Frostmaw. Being an Avian had its perks – getting quick access to medical attention being one of them. “Almost there…” sort of growled the Blue to Brennia in what he thought it was a rather reassuring tone, while furiously pacing the great hall toward his study. “Quickly now! Warm water, antiseptic… the usual. In my study. Now! You’ll ask later… ah, and I would need some muscle as well… fetch me Devurah, please – no, I don’t care, just send him over, will ya?” The Spellblade was an utter mess, but still in a much better condition than the bard, who was immediately laid, with some care indeed given the broken wing of her, on the huge marble slab right in the centre of the Blue’s study. Nebb watched – with eyes that express anything but guilt, despite being responsible of some of Brennia’s wound himself. All around him, a multitude of books, glassware, colourful powders and smelly fumes. More of a laboratory, really, but this is where the Winged Beast dwelt after all. “Brennia… can you hear me? We are in Ara now…” whispered the Blue, leaning close enough to the bard’s ear.

Brennia may have stirred a little here or there during their flight, but for the most part she was out of it. At times of desperation, sometimes her magically enhanced ink work would come to her rescue, but not this time. Maybe Brennia is just too trusting and that is one of her largest faults among many. Along the left side of her face is a river of crimson from the gash in her brow - thanks so much Nebb, I hate it. The skin around the cut at her neck is burnt from Thamaly's sword and of course her poor pitiful wing. That's always the price with avians isn't it? The meaning to their whole lives on beautiful display for all to see and hold so much meaning. A simple touch could mean something hostile or thoughts of affection, to pluck a feather could mean intentions to court or duel, but to have one cut away or broken is to display your shame. Brennia has known of Thamalys' study for she works at Ara often and has even stayed here under disguise when she was on the run, but had she ever really been within? Not likely. When her name is called out, her eyes open to a sliver (at least the one) and those teal solid hues find her friend as her lips struggle to curve up into a fold smile for him, "couldn't I have just stayed? She should not have made me come back…" She isn't entirely sure what she is saying, but delusion brings out some deep truths sometimes and eventually the pain hits her as she realizes how close Thamalys' face is. The bard swallows hard as she lets out a pained sound before asking, "Thamalys?" Her smoky alto timbre sounding so small and strained before she sniffles as tears form in her eyes.

Thamalys moved quickly, just briefly acknowledging the broken whispers of the bard. “Yes indeed, it’s me… you are safe now, but I am afraid I will need to draw from your strength one more time…” noted sort of absentmindedly the Blue, mildly confused by her words and glancing approvingly to the sturdy features of a dwarf who just joined the winged duo, carrying with him quite an impressive array of tools – not least his chunky biceps. “It’s all here, as you requested” curtly stated the dwarf, his long, red beard, stained with grey in multiple points, swinging below a serious face and two green, wise eyes. “Thank you, Devurah… we’ll start with the wing, and I’ll need your help. You see, bone and tendons have been broken here… and here…” went on the Blue, gently pinpointing the exact location of the damage, there between the shoulder and the wing itself. The Dwarf raised an eyebrow, obviously confused. “Who did this to her?” The Spellblade did not answer, silence lingering into the room instead like an unwanted guest. Nebb punctuated the awkwardness with a savage shriek, flapping his wings. “As I was saying…” pressed on the Healer, “… I need your help. The bones are presently dislocated, something we need to rectify before doing anything else… if you’d be so kind to position yourself right there… here, take this…” he went, offering a tattered tea towel, “… I’ll pull from this side, you push from yours. Brennia, this is going to hurt. I hope you can forgive me…” he concluded, as he readied himself to snap back the wing into place. Avian wings relied on massive, if partially hollow, bones, to move which a great display of strength was needed. “I can give you something for the pain, if you so wish?” offered the Blue, a clear note of anguish ruining his voice.

Brennia had not noticed Nebb, but he sure made himself known after she let out a soft groan to the dwarf's question. The shriek from Nebb sent a twitch through her whole body in fear and ended in another pained groan from the bard. Why the heck did she do this? Does she have a deathwish or something? Well... kind of, but that's beside the point. Brennia has always been known as too kind and a lover, not a fighter. She obviously had no place being in a duel, I mean, she couldn't even find proper fitting armor she's become so thin. Her name is called by her friend again and her head lazily turns towards him with a nod to signal she is ready, but her brow furrows in sorrow when something for pain is offered. It is a possibility that Emilia may have shared Brennia's medical records with Thamalys for advice on avian anatomy due to the three surgeries the bard has needed this past year. Brennia's last surgery took, but she shouldn't risk it with taking any potions or medicine. "No, I can't," she softly said and closed her eyes shut tightly in order to brace herself for what is to come. Doing so caused the tears to slip down her temples and into her dark hair. The gauntlets she still wears clench tightly into fists.

Thamalys sighed loudly. He was not to doubt the wish of her kin. “Very well, then. Worry not, it will be over soon…” he added with something similar to a smile, while laying his left hand onto her brow. Warm… too warm, perhaps – some fever as well or just the exhaustion of the duel and the travel? Hard to tell. His right hand clenched the rim of her wing instead, as the Blue moved his lips, in perfect silence, to signal a quick countdown to the dwarf. A split second after, the two Healers got to work. With an awful, sharp crack, the bones found their righteous place again, most likely causing an explosion of pure pain for the bard. Thamalys would have focused on the wing entirely, though, letting Devurah wrestle with the potentially infuriated Brennia as he fetched a few metallic rods from a nearby barrel.

Brennia inhales sharply in a shocked gasp as her wing is popped back into place and the blood curdling scream that follows fills Thamalys' office while the bard writhes in pain, but somehow it sounds like two female voices screaming in that moment. It is lucky for them that her bard powers are practically nonexistent or else they'd be feeling the pain right along with her. The peculiar thing that the dwarf has probably never seen even though Thamalys had experienced it once, is the ink on Brennia's skin twitching. Only being able to see the magnificent magic on the bard's neck and around her hairline, but it definitely flinches before the patterns start to swirl in on itself. Brennia's eyes snap open as her hands reach out to grip the dwarf by the beard, but there is nothing but dark orbs glaring at Devurah, "why…. YOU LITTLE," expletive, expletive, "potato of a," expletive, expletive, expletive. The voice might sound familiar to Thamalys, being that of Raven for the short time she had control of Brennia's body. The feathers on her large black wings are ruffled out and anger contorts her thin face. Brennia blinks hard and immediately lets go of the dwarf's beard and with a pained sobb, she softly apologized, "I am so sorry. I-I-I didn't mean that." She feels so bad and falls limp on the marble slab while softly groaning from the pain.

Thamalys barely managed to keep his balance, as the bard bathed the entire house in that horrible sound. He assumed her magic would have been severely hindered by her injuries, but he did underestimate the ever-lurking Raven. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing…”, murmured the Blue, trying to sooth his sobbing patient, while nervously assessing the chances that, perhaps pushed by the pain, Brennia might let her far darker counterpart to take control. He put the first of the metallic rods into place, gently but firmly flattening that beautiful wing onto the marble. He allowed himself to take in the texture of the feathers – just a little longer than it was necessary, he could not help himself. A second rod would have followed, and a third one, held together by little but sturdy rivets. A custom-made halo of sort, this one fashioned so as to limit the movement of her wing. She needed time. “You. Remember… it is – nothing – I hope I have been clear enough…” commented the Winged Beast, fixing his solid blue gaze for a second onto the dwarf, who was in the process of attempting a coherent sentence with very little success. He had seen a lot, but this was too much even for a seasoned healer. The Blue words were clear enough, though – no one had to know about Brennia’s outburst. Aside from being a healer, she played several public roles as well – no one needed to know. ”Of course you didn’t mean it… easy now… you will have to rest for a while and… you won’t be able to fly for a few days, not until the bones have squarely reconnected and properly calcified back. The last thing you want is to damage your ability to fly. I hope you can understand… no, don’t try to move it just yet…” pleaded the Blue, carefully playing with metal and bones to make sure that everything was in place. Meanwhile, Devurah would have started, following a nod of the avian, to remove the armour still covering the Bard. Thamalys himself would have tried to take away the gauntlets from Brennia’s clenched fists, gently fighting any resistance. Not far away from the table, a stick of incense eventually set off, filling the room with a minty fragrance that hopefully would have washed away some of the sorrow.

Brennia let the tears softly flow as her lips downturn into a soft pout, but no matter how much she tries to stop the tears from coming, sometimes physical pain lets out the emotional pain. With a sniffle, Brennia's own soft voice explains, "no, that isn't like me at all." Sounding so defeated and making sure to stay still as possible for Thamalys while softly nodding at his advice not to fly, "I can do that… I haven't flown much at all these days anyway because of all the surgeries." Her gaze picks a spot on the ceiling as she continues to try and blink away tears that just keep coming… 'Pathetic. An avian who doesn't fly,' she thinks to herself and sniffles yet again. When they begin taking her armor off, her heart starts to beat with nervous anxiety because of what she is wearing underneath, but she helps with the gauntlets before unlatching the parts that allow her chest piece to simply be lifted off her. Underneath she was wearing a pair of thick velvet leggings and a simple black turtleneck, but it all hugs to her body which advertises just how much weight Brennia has lost since the last time Thamalys seen her last. She takes in deep breaths of the mint scent filling the room and begins to regain control of her emotions, but she cannot bear to look Thamalys' way in case her friend happens to make any kind of facial expression to his thoughts on her condition.

Thamalys did not have the chance to follow the evolution of Brennia’s condition. If he had, he would have probably refused to duel against her in the first place. She was not the avian he thought he remembered – not anymore. Devurah does not flinch or hesitate, but the Blue had to muster all of his willpower to keep his focus on his delicate work. “Don’t say that. The sky is simply waiting for you, that is all – I shall make sure you feel the Wind on your skin soon enough…” claimed the Spellblade with a tone that just exudes determination. Dwarf and avian worked quickly, washing the remaining wounds with warm water and pouring generous doses of antiseptic on them. The one cut close to the left eye of the bard required special attention. “Try to keep it open if you can…” pressed the Blue, with one hand cleaning the wound and with the other one wiping away her tears. It could not remember when was the last time he felt such a powerful mixture of sorrow and shame. He did that to her, and largely to please the crowds – such a morbid excuse, not worthy of his honour. He started to hum a silly tune, one of the many that often came to his mind, echoes of a past long forgotten.

Brennia needs to try something, anything to get her mind out of this oh so familiar train of thought. A bard who lost their power, an avian who cannot fly, a failed candidate for Schezerade's Senator and is there anything else to pile on at this moment? She lets out little gasps or subtle groans when they continue to clean her cuts, but the hardest part is over and nothing hurts as bad as a broken wing, she is reminded. "Okay," she basically whispers as he's focused on cleaning the cut to her eyebrow as her teal gaze hesitates on him before focusing on a random spot on his ceiling again. There are bits of their fight that she is starting to remember, other than whenever he successfully landed an attack on her, and there is a subtle humor that slowly shifts her expression, "you were great out there, Thamalys. That trick with your ears was genius," even though she had no use of her power and it mostly just hindered him with the inability to hear. "What was that you put in your ears?" Her voice still sounds a little strained from talking through her pain, but it is helping her keep the thoughts from making this bad situation any worse.

Thamalys shook his head, slowly, that knotty mass of white dreadlocks swaying accordingly across his pale face. “Beeswax…” confessed the Blue with a rueful grin. “A rather dirty trick if you ask me… such is the way I was taught, but I appreciate is a rather idiotic excuse”. He stopped for a second, as he collected himself, the ink on his skin, in a fashion not dissimilar to hers, twitching into endless patterns. “You can go now, Devurah – thank you for your help. I will ask of you again later today…” Meanwhile, a blue halo would have materialised at the tip of his fingers, a subtle layer of liquid fire he had learned long ago to master to precisely this use. With measured, slow gestures, the Healer retraced the pattern of her wounds, cleansing and sealing them in the process. He tried his best to avoid scarring her face, but only time would have told about that. Time flew rapidly: when he was finished, the sun was about to disappear beyond the horizon, casting long shadows through the window. Nebb was long gone – he had business to attend to. Eventually, the Blue sat on his favourite stool, entirely exhausted, his hands stained with blood, his body aching from the sores of the duel as well as the hard work in the study. He was glad he could help, but little did that do to lessen his anguish. Absentmindedly, he caressed her hair, while looking outside the window, into the distance. “Rest, now. Tomorrow, I shall send for whatever you may need. For now, let us put this day behind us.” And with that, he would have slanted on the desk, falling into an agitated sleep himself. Devurah, worried about the fact that he was not called upon after on, came during the night to put warm blankets onto them both. “Avians…” he muttered in an undertone, as his steps vanished into Ara once more.

Brennia nearly laughs, but stifles it because doing so would just be too painful in the moment. "Clever. I am left quite impressed as usual," she hums out while blinking slowly. "I hope you win the next one and ultimately the entire tournament. I will be cheering you on, my friend," that kindness showing through again, the well worn curtain being drawn so her deep sorrow can hide for much longer. "Maybe I'll get to heal your wounds after your next duel," at this she does let the start of a raspy giggle out, but a subtle groan of pain follows even though she keeps smiling. It is funny to even suggest because Thamalys is so far ahead of her in his ability to heal because all Brennia can do is some basic first aid stuff and stitches. His caress to her hair is something so unusual from him that her cheeks instantly turn a shade of pink and she stores that little act of kindness from Thamalys in her memory bank under the category of 'Favorite'. "O-okay, get some rest," she turns her head and looks at him concerned while silently wondering why he doesn't retire to an actual bed. Now she's the one that feels guilty, but soon exhaustion hits her and she manages to fall into her usual nightmare filled sleep… angrily chittering goblins… the sound of whips. Maybe she even flinches slightly in her sleep when Devurah is so kind to bring them blankets, causing the dwarf to protectively cover his beard with his arm.