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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 0:20:32 GMT -5
Lin stepped swiftly into her quarters, leaned her staff against a cabinet, and took a deep breath. The scent of herbs always had comforted her, and calmed her, and today was no different, despite the fact that her patient had passed out a few minutes ago and every second meant a step closer to more permanent damage. However, she had enough time to take in her surroundings before turning to her patient.
It was dark in the healer's room, as hanging flowers and herbs blocked most of the light. What did manage to filter through the dusty windowsills lit up floating dust particles, and dimly outlined the shadowy room full of jars and containers. The only clear spot in sight was a large, rectangular table. It was covered in metal, and positioned so that the few strands of light that made their way into the doctor's room fell upon it. It was here that Lin treated her patients, and here that she had earned the nickname that had haunted her life so far: Iron Hands. She hated what it implied, but knew what it came from. No matter what stress she was put under, Lin's hands never shook, and so old Iron Hands earned her reputation as one of the best, and the harshest, healers.
Walking quickly, Lin went back outside. Removing Eragon from Bid'Daum's grasp, she carried the Rider into the room, stretching him out on the long metal table. Her quick hands untied her cloak from his side, exposing the wound. The healer grimaced, and turned to a drawer on her left. She sorted through the contents until she found a small metal needle and thread. Then, two medium sized, dark glass jars and clean bandages.
She rubbed her hands with the contents of one of the black jars, and smiled at the smell of the antiseptic. Then she applied the contents of the second jar to Eragon's wounds. This salve smelled of the earth-deep, and rich, and it had a slight greenish color to it.
I have always thought, Lin said, sending her thoughts to Bid'Daum, That the most ridiculous part of being a Rider and dragon is that you share one another's pain, at least for the most part. So don't make a fuss. This salve prevents infection, then I'll sew up the wound and bandage it. And NO. I will not use magic. Your Rider was fool enough to let your presence overbear his own consciousness, and so harm himself. He deserves no sympathy. By now she was setting down the needle and picking up the bandages. However, she paused, waiting to see if he regained consciousness.
I have seen doctors perform more wonderful feats with herbs than with magic, so don't even think about suggesting it. I know what I'm doing.
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 0:30:10 GMT -5
Bid'Daum shifted nervously from one foot to another when Lin got off of his back. He peeked into her quarters, noting all the hanging herbs and other odd...things. Why was it so dark in there? Didn't she need light in order to see what in Alagaësia she was doing? Flustered, Bid'Daum huffed lightly. He didn't understand this elf, and Eragon's mixed feelings towards Lin didn't help solve the predicament at all.
He stayed still as Lin removed Eragon from his back. However, he did not stand up straight. He continued peeking into what he considered the tiny quarters. Worrying about Eragon, mostly. What was she doing? He wondered, when she took out a needle and thread, what she was up to. Why wasn't she using magic? Was she too good for it? It would be much more efficient...
Bid'Daum huffed once more, irritated, and becoming more so as Lin gave him her views on things. She didn't know anything about being a dragon, now did she? Not even about being a Rider! And he wouldn't make a fuss, of course. It wasn't Eragon's fault, it was his. Truly. She certainly did not know what she was doing!
However, Bid'Daum kept silent and watched her carefully, praying that he was wrong and she did know what she was doing.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 0:39:46 GMT -5
Lin sighed heavily upon seeing that Eragon was not waking, and so stretched out a long length of bandage. Slowly, carefully, she began to wrap the clean white cloth around Eragon's chest wound, talking most of the time. You don't trust me, do you? It's typical of most dragons, especially when their Riders are being treated. I think the dragons are more worried about their Riders than the Riders are about their dragons, although only minimally. You probably want to know why I'm not using magic, either. I have great stamina, and it is true that I could easily heal Eragon's wounds with a simple phrase or two. I am trained to be able to do that, and I am more than capable of doing so.
However, no lesson would come from it. There is a lesson to be heeded every time an injury is inflicted, both upon the offender and the victim. I think Eragon has learned a lesson that he may have forgotten over time. She glanced out the door to where the dragon was crouching down to see in, leaving the bandages half done. He's learned defeat. Lin rummaged around through another drawer, this one close to the door, and pulled out a cloth bag a little smaller than her fist. It smelled very strongly, and she walked back to where Eragon was laying. She set the bag next to his head, and continued on with the bandages. She did not speak again until the smell of the herbs woke Eragon, except to make an verbal annotation for Bid'Daum's sake:
"Smelling salts."
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 0:53:04 GMT -5
Bid'Daum, of course, kept watching closely to Lin tending to Eragon. He was worried to say the least. He listened closely as she spoke to him, and gradually changed his opinion of her. She was alright, and seemed very wise. Maybe she would be a good match for Eragon. If he woke up, that is.
I'm sorry. I shouldn't doubt you...we'll see though, he said simply, laying down and blocking her doorway completely. It was filled with one giant white eye. But that eye watched Lin as close as any eye could, maybe closer.
Eragon saw black. That was it. He felt the panic still it his chest, when something sharp and stinging came to his mind. What was it? It was almost like...a smell, that was the word. Yes, smell, of course it was a smell. If he could smell, he could see, couldn't he? Yes, of course.
An image, unrecognizable, blurred before Eragon as his eyes fluttered opened. Everything suddenly came to focus, though the 'everything' he saw was Lin. It made him smile involuntarily. Next, he noticed the horrible pain in his side, and winced.
"What...?"he asked weakly, meaning to put 'happened' on the end of the question, but it didn't get past his lips.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 1:00:31 GMT -5
Lin's tone was rather distracted as she wrapped the last few bandages around his wound and tied them tightly. "You were hit by Deloi in your sparring match with Arandur. Bid'Daum carried you and I here. I cleaned the cut and stitched it, and have just finished bandaging it. Sit up, and move your arms out of the way." Lin checked the bandages around Eragon's side, making sure they were perfect. Then, she looked at Eragon up and down.
"You can feel everything all right? No numb fingers, toes?" Stepping forward once again, Lin turned to the side of Eragon's chest where Deloi had sunk in. "It isn't life threatening, but you won't forget this too easily. I think that the saddest part of this is not that you fainted, not that Bid'Daum cried, but the fact that Arandur beat you in a spar. You'll never live this one down, not if I have any idea as to Arandur's personality."
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 1:08:35 GMT -5
Eragon found it a little hard to breathe, but otherwise, he was fine, except for the wound of course. He looked at Lin as he sat up, with his face blank. Arandur would use this....against him. He sighed, putting his face in his hands for a moment. He reassured Bid'Daum that this was none of his fault, and then looked back up at Lin.
"I've failed, I suppose," he said softly, in a business-like manner. With a grunt of pain, he swiftly moved off the table, trying not to sway due to his blood loss.
"Thankyou, Lindariel-elda. I owe you more than my thanks, however. What is it that you wish?"he asked with a small smile as he spoke formally.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 1:17:53 GMT -5
Lin's eyes flashed as Eragon began to move. "What I want," She said sharply, "Is for you to stay here and not to even think about moving until I say you can." She pushed him back to the table and stood there, warningly. "You are going to tear the stitching if you move too quickly, and you don't want me to have to redo that while you're conscious. And what I want is for you to forget the formalities." For a second, her eyes softened. "I am only old Iron Hands, Eragon." They hardened the next second, though, and she turned away.
"But if you really want to give me something, a new cloak would be nice." She held up the bloodstained cloak without turning. "I had to use it to prevent you from loosing too much blood. But it doesn't matter, as you won't be leaving this room until I say so." Lin glared at him, daring him to challenge her decision.
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 1:24:43 GMT -5
There was a pause for a moment as Eragon studied Lin, confused. He had never met anyone like her, not at all. Without thinking, he brought a hand up, touching her cheek lightly, and then smiled, slowly bringing it back. He was intrigued by how soft her skin seemed to be under his rough, battle-worn hands.
"I'll make you a new cloak, how about that? As for staying here....I really have work to do,"he frowned, contemplating the situation. He quietly said a few things to Bid'Daum, and the dragon nodded, then flew off. Eragon looked back at Lin, seeming almost nervous.
"Well...."he said, his voice drifting off.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 1:31:33 GMT -5
Lin's breath caught in her throat as Eragon touched her cheek, and closed her eyes, smiling softly. When he took his hand away, she touched her cheek almost reverently, smiling at him softly. "I'd li-.." Her voice was uncertain, and she licked her lips. Lin smiled at him, brushing her blonde hair back absently, then looked down, biting her lip nervously. "I'd like...for you to stay, please. I mean, um, I don't want to take you away from your jobs, but..." She hurried to make an excuse for her words, although it was clear what they meant. "But, um, the stitching...it'll tear..." Her big brown eyes were practically pleading Eragon to stay, although she didn't know it.
"Won't you stay? Just for a little while?"
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 1:36:24 GMT -5
"You're not going to order me?"Eragon chuckled, sitting back down at the table, and looking around, at the hanging herbs mostly. There were a lot of things to look at, but...his gaze wandered back to Lin every time he looked away. It was awkward for him. He had never...well...it was just awkward. He shifted slightly, and looked outside.
"This is...nice,"he said, referring to Lin's quarters. He thought it was nice and cozy.
"Where do you sleep?"he wondered, his head turning to Lin suddenly. His inhaled sharply as the movement caused a pain in his side, but otherwise ignored it, still watching Lin.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 1:47:45 GMT -5
Lin blushed slightly as Eragon complimented her room. "If you don't like it, you don't have to compliment it, although I appreciate it. I've collected all of these over the years-some are very rare," She pointed to some flowers under a glass dome, "-and some are not." Lin indicated something that looked strangely like a dandelion. As Eragon asked where she slept, Lin hurried over to a small passageway almost hidden by a large curtain hanging from the ceiling. Sweeping it aside, Lin revealed a passageway back to a small room.
What could be seen of it was very simple-quite plain wood, a small, homely little bed pressed against the wall. Her bow and arrows were hung on the wall with nails, but other than that and a dresser there really was nothing in there-no herbs at all. She explained, "I don't sleep much, nor do I eat or drink much. I don't have the need for a large bed, and so a small one works very well. I don't take too much care in my clothes, and so I need no large closet. My room is as simple as my workroom is messy." The healer hurried into the passageway, calling something back about Eragon not even thinking about going anywhere. When she returned, she was carrying her bow and quiver reverently.
"This is what I used to use to fight. Now I prefer my staff, but I still keep these." Her hands moved quickly, stringing, then unstringing the bow, drawing out an arrow for Eragon to see, putting it back, holding up the quiver for inspection. "It has been a long time since I used those." She said softly.
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 12:44:18 GMT -5
"But I do like it..."Eragon shook his head, looking around some more. He smiled as he looked at the flowers she pointed out. He observed her room more when she opened the curtain; quite plain, but he did like it. He resisted the urge to follow her when she told him not to. It would only make her mad, most likely.
Eragon watched as she showed him her bow, arrows, and quiver.
"May I see?"he asked, reaching out for them after her demonstration. He looked genuinely interested in it as he waited for her reply. His eyes roamed across the workmanship and craft of the quiver while he waited.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 16, 2010 13:10:06 GMT -5
Lin nodded, handing the bow and quiver to Eragon. "I used the bow before I took up healing. Now I don't use it, unless I need it very, very, very much. I don't kill people." She shook her head slowly, and her blonde hair swirled around her chin. "That would completely undo everything that I work for as a healer. That's why I use my staff. But, if the time ever came that I had to use deadly force, then I am quite good with almost all weapons." Lin leaned back, studying Eragon.
"Now I'm curious. Is it that you haven't spent a lot of time training and fighting recently, or did you do that purposefully to get to spend time with me?" The healer narrowed her eyes, and stuck a finger in Eragon's face. "I'm onto you." She said. Then, the elf turned away and walked towards a small pantry door. She opened it, searched for something, found it, closed the door. Whatever it was that she had in her fist, Lindariel popped one into her mouth, and brought the other back to Eragon. It was small-about the size of Lin's thumbnail, but a bright pink color. "Eat it," She told him. "Tastes good, actually."
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Post by Eragon Ládin on Jan 16, 2010 20:30:47 GMT -5
Eragon examined the bow and quiver carefully.
"These are nice,"he commented, nodding his head, handing the weapons back to Lin.
"Uh, no!"Eragon's eyebrows shot up," It's just. I was...I wasn't...prepared,"he frowned, his head sinking down,"I didn't expect Bid'Daum...but it was still my fault.
He watched curiously as Lin walked towards the pantry door. He took the small pink....thing...whatever it was, and looked at it suspiciously for a moment. He quickly put it in his mouth and ate it, and then smiled.
"Hmm, it is good," he nodded, looking back up at Lin.
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Post by Lindariel on Jan 17, 2010 11:42:42 GMT -5
Lin nodded, satisfied. "The flavor comes from a very extraordinary flower. It will taste flowery to anyone that eats it, but what else it tastes like depends on the person." A small smile crossed her lips, and the healer looked down at the ground. She was stretching the truth about as far as the Ancient Language would allow, for it was truly just a sweet candy that she had found. "For me, it tastes like cinnamon...and apples...and.." Her voice trailed off, as she remembered the one time that she actually had smelled a flower like the one she had describe. It was sort of embarrassing-it had smelled like tears, and a dark flavor beneath it all, hidden deep underneath the sweeter scents. Dark, and something sinister; Lin had smelled blood.
"When you smell a flower like that one, each scent means something to us; each flavor connects to our lives. Back on Illium, there were cinnamon trees, and one of my favorite foods when I came to Ellesmera were the apples." What she did not say was that she remembered what she had smelled exactly, and it had smelled like the tears she had cried as a young elf when she was still bitter over the loss of her parents-even though she didn't remember them. It had smelled like the blood of the elves and dragons that she had failed to save, and watched as they slipped away. She licked her lips nervously, then looked away.
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