Varanis — 1626 0759 Helping Hand
????, Earth Season, Disorder Week
Context
Earth Season, Disorder Week, Fireday evening [[[s02:session-1|Session 1]]]
At the White Grape Inn, Boldhome
Events
It’s late in the evening when Varanis knocks quietly on Mellia’s door at the White Grape. “It’s Varanis. Can I come in?” she calls out just loudly enough to be heard through the door.
A sleepy “Come in,” is the reply.
The Vingan opens the door and slips inside. She’s stripped off her armour and is down to the linen layers she typically wears underneath. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“It’s all right,” Mellia reassures Varanis. Mellia is sitting up in bed, in a nightgown. She’s trying to get a light source going. Mellia pats a spot on the bed.
“Don’t worry about the light.” She takes the spot Mellia indicates.
Mellia nods. “What is it? Did Berra finally kill Dormal?”
Varanis gives a little laugh. “No. And neither did I.” She shakes her head. “I came to apologise. I snapped at you earlier, but I was mad at Dormal, not you.”
Mellia smiles sleepily. “It’s alright. I forgive you. I’m going to have to do something about Berra and Dormal, though.”
“I don’t really know what to do about them. She will kill him one of these days if he continues to provoke her.” She studies Mellia in the dim light of the room. “You forgive so easily. I would still be cross if someone had unjustly taken their anger out on me.”
Mellia’s serene smile could light the room by itself. “I love you, so it’s not that hard to forgive you.” The smile fades. “Either she’ll kill him, or he’ll kill her. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that they get on about as well as truth and lies.”
“Are you well? You didn’t push too hard today?”
“I’m tired,” Mellia admits, “but I think the wound is fine. I wish I could see it.”
“Do you need me to look? You could tell me what to look for.” The Vingan is no healer, but she does have a little experience and isn’t squeamish about wounds.
“Would you please? Can we get some light going? You’ll need it.”
“I have a candle in my room that is lit already. Let me light yours from it and you can get ready.” Varanis rises, picking up Mellia’s candle.
Mellia says, “That should work.” When Varanis returns with the lit candle, Mellia is lying on the bed, belly down, with her nightgown hiked to above her waist and her kit handy.
Varanis carefully sets the candle down on Mellia’s little table. “Alright, let’s look.” She hisses softly as she takes in the extent of the damage. “Well, the edges look like they are holding. The scar is pink, but I don’t see any redness. No streaks.” She pauses. “Can I touch you?”
“Do so,” Mellia directs. “Tell me if the scar is hot, or even just warmer than the nearby flesh.”
The Vingan’s hand hovers over the wound without touching. Mellia can feel the heat of her palm. Then she gently rests it on the wound. “No extra heat,” she says, shifting her hand gently over Mellia’s back. “Same as the rest of the skin.”
Mellia mutters, “Ow.” In a normal tone, she says, “Good, then it’s just fine and we don’t have to wash it with mead or rotgut.”
“Do you have a salve you are using to minimize the scar and keep it supple?”
“I am, but I have to be careful to keep it away from the wound proper. It’s the small pink jar.”
Varanis nods at the back of Mellia’s head and picks up the jar from table. “This one smells nice,” she observes giving it a little sniff after removing the waxed linen cover. She scoops a small amount out with a fingertip.
Mellia says happily, “Work that in around the edges. Do not get the salve in the stitches. Otherwise we will have to wash the wound.”
Gently, she rubs some of the salve into the skin around the wound, without coming close to the stitches. If anything, she is erring on the side of caution, both with how lightly she touches and with how far she stays from the edges of the wound.
Mellia doesn’t seem to be in any pain. “Thank you. I am just fine. I should look at Irillo. If his stitches are out, I will have to make him exercise a bit.”
“Not tonight. You were almost asleep before I interrupted you. And he’s probably asleep too.” Varanis tugs the nightgown down to cover her cousin’s back.
“Not tonight,” agrees Mellia. “We should probably both get some sleep, if we can.”
“I’ll try.” She rises again. “Do you want me to put out the candle?”
“Please,” Mellia says. “If you can’t sleep, I’ll see what I have in the kit, but it’s likely to taste really foul.”
“It’s fine, Mellia,” Varanis replies quickly. “I’ll meditate if I can’t sleep.”
Mellia snickers as she crawls back underneath her covers. “Good night, Varanis. Sleep well. Thank you.”
Varanis lightly kisses her cousin’s forehead, then blows out the candle. “Sweet dreams,” she murmurs. And then she’s gone.
