Johan following Fiori across the room with his gaze. He took in another shallow breath before continuing, “I tried to convince her to move her office here in a room downstairs, but she refused. She seems pretty attached to the building specifically.” He glanced back up at the ceiling when Fiori opened the door. He recognized the servant from the hallways, while they didn’t know each other well personally.
The footman bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, Vispodín. She will be right up.” He passed a curious glance past Fiori towards Johan laying down on the bed, and then he was turning on his heel to leave.
Fi nodded, gave a quiet thank you, and shut the door, turning to Johan with a confused frown. "What is a… a vespadin?" He winced slightly as he butchered the pronunciation, but the word was still vaguely understandable so he kept pushing forward. "Is that something bad? Am I being insulted?" Probably not, or Johan would've been laughing at him behind his back, but he still had to make sure. "Would you even tell me if I was?"
Johan softly snickered over to Fiori, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It was almost amusing seeing him so confused. “Calm down, it’s just a vague term of respect. If you don’t trust me, ask Leviticus. It’s just what you say when you don’t know a man’s name or title. Can’t go wrong with a simple Vispodín.”
A few minutes after the servant left, another hand’s knuckles rapped against the door. “Medical Practitioner requesting entrance.”
Johan sent a lopsided smile upwards, recognizing the odd greeting. It hadn’t changed since he met her last. “That’s Eirlys.”
Fi relaxed some, nodding. "No, no… I trust you." It felt weird to say the words, like he was putting too much faith in Johan, but that was silly. This was just a fleeting interaction, it didn'tmean anything. "You need to teach me how to say that later, though. Your words are all too slippery, they do not work for me."
He shook his head, crossing over to the door and inviting the physician in with a cordial smile. "Ms. Eirlys, hello. Please come in, is there anything I can do to help you while you are here?"
“Thank you,” Eirlys offered Fiori a brief, warm smile in return, and stepped inside. Her gaze darted around the room for her patient. Seeing him on the bed, she returned her attention back to Fiori. “You must be Fiori. If you have any competence in medicine your assistance would be greatly appreciated.” She slipped the leather bag off of her shoulder, and set it down on the foot of the bed. Her eyes lingered on the collar for a moment before she continued. “The Prince Regent Leviticus told me only a little bit about the attack. I’ll need more information to start off with.”
Johan craned his neck to see her standing near the end of the bed. She looked different now. Older, and more burdened than she had during the tour. Eirlys was now in her early thirties, and to show for the stress of her field she had gray strands among the rest of her dark hair—pinned back in a modest bun—and soft creases in her face.
Fiori scanned her up and down and was surprised to find how familiar she seemed. The look on her face was one he'd seen on a thousand battlefields in a thousand different med tents. He led her over to the bed, gently prodding Johan into setting his arms at his sides so she could get a proper look. "I would be happy to help, though I will warn you that my training is as basic as it comes. My information on the initial assault is limited, I am afraid. If you could give me a more specific question, I may be able to provide you with a more in depth answer."
Eirlys hummed in acknowledgement, deciding to give Johan a once over before she made any clarification. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside Johan, and leaned over him to look closer at the bruises on his face. Shaking her head like a disappointed mother, she spoke to him. “I’m surprised no one has sent for me to look at your wounds from petty fist fights before now. The bruises on your face will be fine and fade on their own—if you give them a chance to. Don’t be getting yourself into any more fights.” She turned to Fiori once again, who she assumed would give more objective answers as Johan’s caretaker than Johan himself would. “Where is he hurt the worst?”
"The most extensive wounds are on his ribs. I would be concerned about his neck," he gestured towards the still heavy bruising, "but he can speak perfectly fine and does not seem to have any pain beyond what you would expect. It is similar with the wrists." He reached over, giving Johan a questioning look before his hands settled on the hem of his shirt. Asking if it would be okay for him to show Eirlys the worst of the wounds. "I assume he was kicked, and when we found him he was being held under the water. Damage to his lungs is likely, as is damage to his ribs. He seems to have been experiencing pain with movement and shortness of breath. He cannot walk on his own." He listed the wounds with a clinical distance in his tone. "What would you diagnose?"
Johan nodded faintly in allowance. Now that Eirlys was here he seemed more open to letting someone see his torso.
Eirlys listened to Fiori’s every word as she gently pushed Johan’s shirt up. “Shortness of breath and coughing is common with bruised and broken ribs. I can’t be certain which yet. I worry that if his ribs are broken they could damage the lungs even more than they might be already. When you pulled him out did he vomit water?” She brushed her hand against the wrappings. “And I will have to take this off to fully examine him. Prop him upright with some pillows against the headboard,” she gestured.
Fi nodded. "I thought as much. I know my opinion does not mean much, but I think a broken rib is unlikely. He can move with some degree of freedom, and while he does seem pained it is not to the extent you would expect from a break." Fi's eyes swept over Dami's torso and he propped Johan up the way he'd been told, gently setting him into place. "I am not certain, but I believe he coughed up a small volume of water. Leviticus would have a better idea, he was with Johannan at the time."
Johan groaned at the movement as he was set upright, and as he had to arch his back slightly while Eirlys unwrapped the bandages. He shut his eyes tight in a futile attempt to try and block out the pain.
Eirlys studied the gnarly bruises painted on Johan’s torso with a focused frown. “In this case I will have to agree with you.” With the wrappings set aside, she delicately pressed against his ribs in search for any movement that might suggest a fracture—successfully earning several whimpers from Johan. “Unfortunately I can’t do anything for bruised ribs except give my medical advice: keep him upright while he sleeps in order to avoid a chest infection, and if he starts to cough have him hug a pillow to his chest. For the swelling today give him ice, and tomorrow onwards have him soak in a warm tub with salts to help with the pain. It would also be best for him to sit most of the day, except for intermittent walks to keep his chest clear.” She easily recited the instructions as she had many times to her patients who liked to spar or happened to accidentally find themselves in fights. Nord Widona was in general a peaceful country, but not every citizen could be perfectly dosile.
Fi propped a pillow up under Johan's back, smoothing the sheets down on top of his legs in a feeble attempt to help him stay comfortable. He winced with each of Johan's whimpers, reaching over to take his hand and squeeze. He hoped Johannan would remember their deal for when he was wrapping: squeeze as hard as you want, but stay still and let me work. "I see, could you print those instructions on a sheet of paper for me? I will not remember and Johannan will fight me on anything I say without you to back it up. And… can you offer any additional advice? Should I keep his ribs wrapped? Should I keep anything on hand to help prevent infection?"
Johan instinctively squeezed Fiori’s hands when Eirlys pressed much too painfully on his bruises. He clenched his jaw, and the relaxed as she pulled away again. He tentatively opened his eyes again and stared blankly upwards.
Eirlys nodded, “I don’t doubt that. Johannan has fought me before whenever I try to treat him. I’ll send you a paper copy of my instructions,” she promised, reaching over to her bag and rummaged through it. “And I would not have his ribs wrapped, especially since he should stay still for most of the day. Wrapping his ribs will restrict him from taking a deep breath.” She handed him a small glass bottle closed with a cork. “This lavender oil should help him relax, and you should have some peppermint tea on hand for his airways.”
Fi squeezed his hands once as Eirlys pulled away, turning his attention back to the physician. "I see." The lavender was set aside, marked in his head so he would remember to make Johan use it. "How long should I keep him on bed rest? And… please give me a conservative estimate. I do not wish to struggle with him any longer than I have to." Keeping Johan in bed was going to be hell no matter how long it lasted, but it would be especially heinous if it had to last for more than a week. He'd have to figure out some way to entertain the prince, some way to keep him still and docile and not fighting him every step of the way.
"Bruised ribs usually heal on their own in around three to five weeks" Eirlys replied. "He should get up to take a short walk twice a day. And even after that time he shouldn't go immediately back to sparring or picking fights." She pulled Johan's shirt back down round his torso and stood up from the bed. "If you have any questions after I leave you can either write me a letter or send for me if you think it's serious, Especially if he shows signs of infection. In his airway or otherwise." She swung the bag over her shoulder. "I bid you good luck with trying to keep him sedentary. He's refused my explicit advice many times before. Is there anything else you need from me right now?"
Johan settled his hands in his lap again after his shirt was fastened down again. "I had a job to do, Eirlys," he muttered. "I was still on a tour. Talking was kind of essential while I was in charge of a group of soldiers."
Fi nodded. He could manage two weeks, maybe two and a half if he caught Johan in a good mood and got better at handling him. "I will, though I hope I will not have to disturb you. If you could send over a list of signs of infection alongside your instructions, I would be very grateful, but beyond that, there is nothing I need." He walked her over to the door, laughing softly. "Yes, it will be… quite the journey, I think. Do you have any tips for keeping him down?" His tone was light, as playful as he could make it. "Or will I just need to make do?"
“Yes, I can do that. I’ll send you a letter containing the information within a day or so.” Eirlys followed him over to the door, and laughed softly at Fiori’s lighthearted comments. She stopped in the middle on the doorway and turned in her heel to face him. “At this point he will see right through everything I’ve done to keep him sedentary before. I’m afraid you’re going to have to make do.”
Johan crosses his feet at the ankles, watching the two of them from across the room. His lip curled in annoyance; he knew they were talking about him, likely patronizing him, but at this point he didn’t have much energy to think up a fiery retort.
Fi heaved an exaggerated sigh, peering back at Johan before he turned back to Eirlys to give her a shrug and a weary smile. "I see." He laughed, soft and at ease. IT was nice to be able to pretend that everything was fine for a little while, nice to put on the front of someone who wasn't drowning in a million different worries. "I will endeavor to be creative in my attempts then, and if I ever have trouble I will write you to come and knock some sense into him." He walked Eirlys out into the hall, and then plopped down on the bed when she was gone and gave Johan a soft sigh. "I do not suppose you will quietly accept her advice, will you?"
Johan looked back at Fiori with sunken eyes. “I have no reason not to. I want to get back on my feet as soon as I am able.” The only difference, he wanted to treat himself rather than let Fiori be his caretaker. Before this morning he could take care of his minor injuries just fine, and rub salve into his scar whenever it started to ache. He crossed his arms loosely around his stomach. “Like she said, I’ll be preparing hot baths for myself and putting ice on my chest.”
Fi let out a soft sigh, though he winced as Johan added on to his original statements. "You will not," he said. "You most definitely will not. What part of 'do not strain yourself' is so hard for you to understand?" He could imagine Johan trying to take care of himself. It wasn't remotely pleasant. "You are on bed rest," he said the word slowly, as if that would make Johan understand. "That means you stay still and nap and let me take care of you until you are better."
Johan sneered right back at Fiori’s contradiction, although it was watered down from the ache in his jaw. “Oh, I will certainly not be napping. I live to do things in life and not sleep my days away. If I have to stay in bed for most of the day I will still be keeping busy, and taking care of myself,” he repeated. “If you weren’t here I would be perfectly fine recovering on my own.”
Fi snorted and plopped down on the side of the bed. "Oh of course you would, Johannan." His voice was thick with sarcasm. He wondered what he was doing, talking down to Johan like this. All it would do was make the prince angry but Fi couldn't help but be annoyed. "You cannot even snarl at me properly without hurting yourself and yet you are perfectly capable of recovering on your own. Surely even you know that this is folly."
“Froláem,” Johan spat out a curse. “Just leave me alone! I know this is supposed to be a punishment, but exile would have been a thousand times better than you breathing down my neck.” He clenched his hands into fists, gathering bunches of his shirt. Every once in a while Fiori seemed to be alright, but then they got in yet another fight. “You’re coddling me.”
"So what if I am!?" The words were out before he could think the better of them and Fi sighed, dragging a hand down his face and forcing himself to take deep breaths. John was hurt. He was feeling powerless. The last thing he wanted was any sort of affection on Fiori's part. He forced himself to soften. "Maybe you deserve to be coddled for a few days, alright Johannan? Maybe it would be good for you."
Johan’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but it didn’t last for long until suspicion flashed across his expression instead. He wrinkled his nose, and curled in his legs slightly closer to his body. “If you really want to help…” he considered a request, mulled it around in his mind before he spoke again. “Would you humor me with a request of my own if I let you coddle me for a few days?”
Fi sighed. Johan was like one of the finicky little lillies his mother used to plant in the tiny garden Father had made her, blooming once every month only to lose a few minutes later. "Only if you tell me this request of yours now so that I can make sure it is possible. I will not go against Leviticus' wishes, you have to know that." He glanced over at Johan, scanning his face in a bid to see what he was thinking. "But otherwise… yes. I would be happy to humor you."
“Let me have access to a knife and some wooden cubes,” he arched his brow, curious to see Fiori’s reaction to him requesting a knife. A potentially deadly weapon. But as of now he just desired a pastime. “The only way I am going to stay sane sitting for hours at a time is to do some whittling.” He’d picked up the hobby near the end of his tour after Eirlys forbade him from anything he had to move his face for.
Fi hummed softly, turning the offer over. A knife. He didn't doubt that he could overpower Johan when he was wounded like this, but he also didn't want to give the prince any opportunity to do something stupid. "You know I cannot," he finally decided. "But… perhaps I could give you something else to pass the time? Something that requires less weaponry?"
Johan’s expression pulled into a heavy frown. He rolled his eyes, “Please. I doubt any other pastime is going to keep my interest for such a long time.” He knew he had skill at whittling, and he wasn’t interested in learning anything else. Learning required failure, and he’d had enough of that already. Even in these few short days, he missed the hilt of a sword or the handle of his favorite knife in his hand. “Nonetheless, what other pastime do you suggest?”
Fi managed a small smile. "You act like a child, Johannan. Surely we can find something suitable to your interests." The only real question was how much learning Johan could tolerate. Probably not much. "Chess might be good, to help your strategy. Or you could take up a craft like painting or weaving, or… or that funny thing your women do. With the needles and the yarn." He tilted his head, seeing if anything stuck with Johan.
