The Mansion may have heard, in the distance, the sounds of roaring, and flame, and fighting, and eventually the swooping of large wingbeats. Should any come out to investigate
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She had been warned her lord -- her love(r) -- would visit the, well, dragon, to perhaps test the ground for a further meeting between the two of them. She knew about it; she agreed with it.
She'd ask Tristan for a shelter to share only with him, and then he brought up Iskierka and his wish to have her close -- Isolde consented to meet her first. And then -- she heard the turmoil, noticed the distant flames, and her heart skipped many beats while her face paled more.
And now she's running out of the Mansion, a shawl hanging in disarray over her fragile shoulders, tripping, kneeling without any grace by his side --
"Hush, hush, my lady," he replies, bravely, trying to be soothing despite the pain. "It's only my shoulder, and nothing compared to what you once knew...."
He looks up at Iskierka - he's most likely leaning against her. "Iskierka, this is my lady Isolde, pray be kind to her, she has my heart."
Hold on for Iski. &hearts And am about to resume tagging.
Iskierka, on the other hand, is already hissing a little, expression turning from smug to...disgruntled. "Who is this?" She asks Tristan sharply, and then swivels her head to Isolde. "Who are you? What are you doing with my champion?"
It's an almost automatic reaction, we are sorry to both of them. >>
Nghhh she'd tell you a couple of things if she weren't well-educated, typist guesses by the deep frown on her face. Luckily her focus is entirely on Tristan, taking his wrist between shaking fingers to feel his pulse -- typist willing -- and searching his darling face for signs of injury. "Show me," she tells him urgently. "Show me where it hurts, I have to see what sort of wound it is."
In her despair she's ignoring the dragon, which might be a bad choice -- but she's not really thinking straight. She might yet be quiiite startled when Iskierka actually starts talking to her.
"My shoulder, lady," he replies. "The giant's hammer could not be escaped, alas."
He looks up at Iskierka, and tries to look reassuringly firm, somehow. He's drawing on all his fatherly instincts, now. "Iskierka, be kind to the lady - she is the help I knew would come. I love her and trust her - be on your best behavior, now."
Iskierka snorts. "I do not think she is a good enough doctor to fix you," she says, disdainfully, but focuses her attention on Isolde, shoving her large red scaly nose right in her face. "I don't think we need you. You should go back inside and I will find a real doctor."
Dragons: they're like jealous girlfriends sometimes.
In the meantime, Isolde did manage to reach to Tristan's shoulder, and with the typist's permission she'll gently unfold, unwrap or undo any fabric or piece of armor that might be in the way, to finally see the wound and carefully prod at it. "This needs to be washed thoroughly," she muses while taking an expert look, "and then I know exactly what sort of tincture I need to boil. It'll be done quickly, my lord, you won't--." HULLO DRAGON XD.
"I beg your pardon?" Yes, she is talking to the nose. "I -- I don't think you really mean this, d-d-dr-- lady." Whaaat. "I couldn't ever dream there would be a time when I'd get advice on healing from dragons."
Her voice is steady, but inside she's confused and quite scared.
"Easy, love," and whether he's talking to the dragon or the queen is up for interpretation.
"Iskierka is my friend and steed, my lady, she only worries." He strains to look up to the young dragon, and takes on then his big-brotherly voice. "Iskierka, please - I need her to heal me, and may soon die if you do not let her do. She has my trust, and by my troth, I shan't have you both arguing over my bleeding body. Pray be kind to one another, both of you."
The more he speaks, though, the greater the strain in his voice.
"I thought you said she would be friendly, and not threatening -- at least this is how she seems to me," muses Isolde under her breath, hoping perhaps that only Tristan would hear her. She doesn't think it's fair to work under pressure -- she's worried for her lord and would like to act quickly, but being prodded at doesn't help.
Loudlier, then, towards the dragon. "I died from love of him once." She pauses, her fingers curled tightly against Tristan's tunic. "--if you think I wish him harm, then the world has indeed gone mad."
Tristan murmurs very softly, to Isolde, "Easy my love, she only fears that she may lose her rider - it's nothing more than child's words." He might gently touch her arm with his good hand, to try and soothe her a little.
And to Iskierka, he replies, louder, "My lady speaks the truth, my steed - and if you love me a little, then you will love her as well, for she has my heart, as you have my friendship. I shan't lose my loyalty to either of you, if truth be told."
Iskierka is suspicious of this, but... "Just get on with it," and there, she sounds a little anxious, perhaps in a way Isolde can catch. "I won't do anything." Yet. Anyway.
Hmmph. This rival for her champion's affections, she is suspicious of her.
Isolde squeezes Tristan's hand, nodding curtly -- she understands, or she's trying to. And to Iskiera, she says, "So be it."
She'll be off and back in a tick, carrying clean cloths and a small basin filled with hot water. Typist permitting, she'll kneel again by Tristan's side and gently wash his wound, first. Then she'll take out a small recipient from between the folds of her skirt, bring it to her nose, have a brief sniff, nod, and finally start spreading it on Tristan's shoulder.
If her typist is agreeable, while Isolde was gone, Tristan might have gently scolded Iskierka - and asked her to be more gentle to Isolde. Otherwise, he's a bit tired and half-conscious when Isolde returns, though his half-passed out shape is still leaning trustingly against the dragon.
Also, totally sorry for the lag, failnotif happened, or soomething, I'm not quite sure, wtf. <3
Once Isolde has finished spreading the ointment over the wound and around it, she'll gently wrap Tristan's shoulder in a clean strip of cloth, then check his forehead to see if he's developing a fever -- typist permitting.
"It's not as bad as I feared, my lord," she says quietly, her voice strained. "You mustn't force your arm for days, though -- I'll help you with whatever is needed."
She'd ask Tristan for a shelter to share only with him, and then he brought up Iskierka and his wish to have her close -- Isolde consented to meet her first. And then -- she heard the turmoil, noticed the distant flames, and her heart skipped many beats while her face paled more.
And now she's running out of the Mansion, a shawl hanging in disarray over her fragile shoulders, tripping, kneeling without any grace by his side --
"--- my lord. TRISTAN. Are you hurt???"
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He looks up at Iskierka - he's most likely leaning against her. "Iskierka, this is my lady Isolde, pray be kind to her, she has my heart."
Hold on for Iski. &hearts And am about to resume tagging.
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It's an almost automatic reaction, we are sorry to both of them. >>
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In her despair she's ignoring the dragon, which might be a bad choice -- but she's not really thinking straight. She might yet be quiiite startled when Iskierka actually starts talking to her.
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He looks up at Iskierka, and tries to look reassuringly firm, somehow. He's drawing on all his fatherly instincts, now. "Iskierka, be kind to the lady - she is the help I knew would come. I love her and trust her - be on your best behavior, now."
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Dragons: they're like jealous girlfriends sometimes.
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"I beg your pardon?" Yes, she is talking to the nose. "I -- I don't think you really mean this, d-d-dr-- lady." Whaaat. "I couldn't ever dream there would be a time when I'd get advice on healing from dragons."
Her voice is steady, but inside she's confused and quite scared.
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"Iskierka is my friend and steed, my lady, she only worries." He strains to look up to the young dragon, and takes on then his big-brotherly voice. "Iskierka, please - I need her to heal me, and may soon die if you do not let her do. She has my trust, and by my troth, I shan't have you both arguing over my bleeding body. Pray be kind to one another, both of you."
The more he speaks, though, the greater the strain in his voice.
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"You had better not try anything," she says to Isolde, menacingly, "Or I will not be responsible for what I will do. Make him better!"
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Loudlier, then, towards the dragon. "I died from love of him once." She pauses, her fingers curled tightly against Tristan's tunic. "--if you think I wish him harm, then the world has indeed gone mad."
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And to Iskierka, he replies, louder, "My lady speaks the truth, my steed - and if you love me a little, then you will love her as well, for she has my heart, as you have my friendship. I shan't lose my loyalty to either of you, if truth be told."
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Hmmph. This rival for her champion's affections, she is suspicious of her.
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She'll be off and back in a tick, carrying clean cloths and a small basin filled with hot water. Typist permitting, she'll kneel again by Tristan's side and gently wash his wound, first. Then she'll take out a small recipient from between the folds of her skirt, bring it to her nose, have a brief sniff, nod, and finally start spreading it on Tristan's shoulder.
It won't sting.
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Also, totally sorry for the lag, failnotif happened, or soomething, I'm not quite sure, wtf. <3
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She'll probably remain silent while Isolde does her thing.
Which is your cue - I'll step out for a few tags. Let me know when I should come back.
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"It's not as bad as I feared, my lord," she says quietly, her voice strained. "You mustn't force your arm for days, though -- I'll help you with whatever is needed."
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