Seren_icon.gif Valentin_icon.gif

Scene Title Healer's Recovery
Synopsis Seren sees to a recovering Valentin
Location Circle of Magi
Date July 24, 2016
Watch For What spirit healer anger really looks like.
Logger Seren

It had been near 48 hours since Garou had been brought back to the Gallows broken. How long exactly Valentin had spent healing him, was anyone's guess. What people did know, however, was that when Garou had finally left Valentin's room, they had both slept. Unlike his Templar, however, the mage had not left the room. He's tired still. Not in a way that sleep will solve, only time, really. The sort of tired that comes when you spend too long casting magic on the hollow mana from lyrium potions. Where a mage's connection to the Fade has been made weak, and their stomach churns unpleasantly, and they really just want to lay down. So that's what he is doing, in shirt sleeves and trousers, eschewing the robes because fuck that. Two pots of water and towels still sit at the edge of the room, and a bag sits beside a stool that has been pulled beside the bed, at least half a dozen vials with the last blue dregs of lyrium potions sit outside it, discarded.

Even if Seren hadn't heard what happened, there's no way to miss that much healing for that long. Since there was no way he was going to interrupt the other healer unless it was an emergency, he's kept track of what was going on in the most non-invasive way he could. Now that Garou has gone and there's been time for sleep, he's there with food and a pot of what has to be tea of some sort and knocking on the door. "Valentin, I'm going to open the door. So don't get up." Which kind of violates the 'don't enter personal space' rule that the Dalish- with their lack of general privacy- usualy keep to. He's letting his concern for needs ignored balance that out. Apologies can be made later.

Non-invasive investigation would have found intense, precise work for near 24 hours. The kind of thing that is maddening and exhausting. The sort of delicate work that is necessary when returning feeling to someone's skin, healing nerve fiber by nerve fiber. Most likely wouldn't know the difference, but a Healer could. Valentin's magic is a tumultous and wild thing, like a white river, and wrangling it into such precise work is exhausting. There are not many people Valentin would let knock on his door and say something like that right now. Seren, though, it seems, is one of them. At least the other Healer will understand. The light in the room is dim, and the light from the hall makes him groan a little. The headache had set in after he'd insisted Garou should go report to someone. Likely because he hadn't eaten anything in two damn days. Not that he'd been thinking about that. Or is even thinking about it now.

Seren closes the door as quickly and quietly as he can. "You need to eat," he informs as he places the tray on the stool and bends to pour the tea. "Drink this first. It'll help with the headache and the hollow feeling. The food isn't much, but you need to start light." In fact, the broth and bread are accompanied only by slices of melon- all of those easily identified by scent. A wrapped portion is set aside before he reaches out to take hold of the other healer's hand to place the cup in it and waiting to see if the man can hold it steady.

Valentin does at least pull himself to sitting when Seren enters. He said not to get up, but Valentin is very bad at doing as he is told. The words make his brow knit. "I jus-" He cuts himself off. No, no he had not. Time has past since then. A lot of time. He sighs, for once not talking back or making some quip. Just taking the cup. He's slept, it's offered him some stability. It's not perfect, but he can hold it on his own and not make a mess of things. "Thank you." Wow… It must be bad. Though, to be fair, the circles that still shadow his eyes and age him a couple of years make that pretty evident. He drinks anyway. At the very least he'd been smart enough to drink water through the process. Okay… No. He'd been smart enough to make Garou drink water, and the damnable man had refused to drink unless Valentin did. A cunning move, that had been.

"You need more rest, but I couldn't let you go on sleeping without food. It's the only way you're going to recover." Seren knows this feel, and his voice is kept soft to keep the sound from having that horrible impact that loud noises do on these headaches. "I'm going to touch your forehead," he informs seconds before his hand is there and within time for Valentin to move if he chooses. "I wish there were more I could do to make it go away, but… as long as your temperature isn't too high, it's probably better to let it go away without pushing things too much. I may have the hide of the person who caused this."

Valentin doesn't pull away, doesn't much move, aside of continuing to sip at his tea. There's this thing about lyrium potions, in that when they're taken in large doses, even when not taken regularly, they cause withdrawal. So there's a little bit of a fever. It's not high but it's there. He's going to ache soon, if he doesn't already. (Fun fact: He does.) "I've done it before, I'll manage it again. Thank you, though." Valentin says with a deep breath, and then a growl rumbles his chest. It's raw and primal, but slow in his exhaustion, so obvious to be a deep, dark rage that even in his weak state it has a darkness that is still very capable of being intimidating. "I am going to have their hide." He says, his rage making him slip into Rivaini without thinking, "Their stupid, irresponsible, foolish fucking hide."

"Peace, lethallin. You don't want to bring any attention to yourself that might result in punishment." Seren sighs. "You're fevered. You're uncomfortable now beyond the exhaustion?" At least they have a language in common, and it's easy for the elf to slip into. "The tea will help with the ache. I doubt I can do anything for the lyrium's effect on you, but I can try. …in the future, if this ever happens again, don't exhaust yourself. I owe you both a great deal. Even if I didn't, I would help you. Remember this."

"For this? I am willing to risk quite a bit of wrath." Valentin says, exhaling sharply through his nose. It's not quite a huff, but it could be, if he had a little more effort to put behind it. "I'm alright. I just need time. It will pass. Though I don't think I'll want to see a lyrium potion for at least a month." He says, sipping more tea and then shaking his head. "Thank you. He would not have allowed anyone but me to touch him, however. If I thought it would have been something he could stomach, I would have called for aide." He says, starting to sound angry again, "He knows the sort of damage Creation magic can do when used on something like that… He tried to stop her… It failed. Magic, even some of aspects of mine, was making him jumpy."

Seren waits in silence until the tea is finished and then, once the cup is retrieved, he picks up the bowl to place it in Valentine's hands. "I understand. I admit I've only ever cast myself out once and without lyrium. I can't imagine the ache being worse. There is bread here on the tray. Let me know if you want it." But the talk of creation magic earns an uncharacteristic sound of anger. "What I would not give to find the foolish mage who cast it and the idiot who sent her out in the first place."

"I stopped counting them…" Valentin says with a small, ugly laugh, "They just… Sit in your stomach like a stone." But they certainly had a kick, that was for sure. If they didn't wreck him so terribly, Valentin might understand why people chose them. He nods at the mention of the bread, but does not ask for it. Something that solid sounds like a lot of trouble waiting to happen. Instead, he's just sipping at this broth, and that's just going to have to do. "I think it was pure chance that she was there. But it was apparently her own spell that did the damage in the first place." The look on his face says that he's not amused.

"Do you have a name?" Seren asks, but his voice is back to those soothing tones that are usually for those in his care. "She sounds inexperienced. I hope she's inexperienced. Either way, what she did needs to be punished. But we can think of that when both of you are back on your feet. When you're finished, I'll leave the fruit within reach and take away the bottles and anything else that needs to be removed. When I return, I'll bring water for washing and give you whatever help you need. I know you can do those things under normal circumstances, but these aren't."

Valentin takes a deep breath. "I do. And I don't know if she is. I didn't… Think so, when I met her." He groans a little, and shakes his head, "And, to be rightly fair, Fist of the Maker is a spell with a penchant for biting the hand that feeds but…" Setting the bowl down in his lap gently, Valentin runs a hand through his hair, the curls already so wild that it almost actually rights them, as opposed to mussing them further. Seems he's not going to offer a name. "Thank you, Seren, but you don't have to do that. I'm alright, really. I'll be fine after I eat and just… Breathe for awhile." Though he does sound grateful, it seems perhaps he lived in Orlais a little too long, as some of their pride has rubbed off.

Seren chuckles. "You've been taking lessons from your Lieutenant. I will come by to check on you, and then we'll see what you need or don't. Revas will be near your window. If you need anything, just tell her and she will come get me. For now, you do need rest. There is more tea in the pot and some sweets in a wrapped package by your bed. I think you'll need them soon. Now I'm going to leave you to rest. I also want you to take this." He reaches out to place a carved figure on the other mage's lap. Of course, when it's touched he'll have no trouble knowing the carving is a very familiar cub. "A thank you." Once that's done, he does exactly as he promised, making sure the door is closed behind him.

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