|After the First Joust|
|Summary:||After the first day's joust, Ser Justin is tended to by Mistress Dania.|
|Related Logs:||Jousting at Seagard|
|A Terrick Pavilion, Seagard Tournament Camp|
|One section of a large purple and golden pavilion.|
|June 16th, 289|
There's a couple of Terrick pavilions and not all of them are as fancy as the one Lucienne is using. Justin's choice is a rather plainer one more suited to knights of the House rather than anything he had brought for himself. Inside are hanging canvas 'walls' to divide the pavllion into sections and it is to one of these that Justin goes to. He can walk and doesn't now need assistance to do so though he holds his chest and side a bit. A motion to a house retainer brings the man inside so that Pariston and Kain don't have to come in to attend to him, which wouldn't be right. "Here, help me get this maile off. Please."
Fugh, swelling, bruises, stiffness and pain hasn't settled in yet, not much. It is only starting. Justin removes his belt with blades, and his surcoat, draping them over a travel chest. The retainer helps him with the heavy maile, Justin having to bend well over to drag it off over his head. Gods, he can't breathe! When it's off, he takes a seat on the floor to try and get some air. When he can, he waves a hand at the chain links, "Take it to Ser Jarod, along with my horse that is back at the lists." The man bows and turns to do his lord's bidding. Justin is yet garbed in his padded gameson he was wearing beneath his maile. He lifts his gaze to see if Dania has followed them in.
"Lets get you down to your skin." She looks over at the man. "I need you to help me get this off him and I need warm water and soap if you have it if you do not I have my own." She tells him. She sets her basket down on the floor next to him and from it she take out comfrey leaves a small mortar and pedestal that are spotless and rolled bandages. There is also a sealed clay jar. She breaks the seal on the jar and set is aside. "I think it is safe to say you are done for the tourney unless you want to be puncture a lung." She tell straight up. "You did very well."
"I will send someone in to assist you, Mistress. My lord has given me task." The retainer indicates the armour he's to take to Ser Jarod. The man bows to Justin and departs though after a few minutes a youth of perhaps 12 years is sent in. The boy's probably the retainer's son or some other servant. "Mistress, I'm told ye need water'n soap. There be a bucket o' the fire. I can fetch some o' it."
Justin gives Dania a 'look' and frowns, "There's more jousting," and taking a careful breath he adds, "And there's the melee." His hands go to unfastening his gameson and then carefully, grimacing a bit he shrugs it off. There's a light weight tunic beneath that, much sweaty. Justin hesitates, but the boy is here and Dania isn't a noblewoman, she's a healer. The tunic comes off. Folded, the gameson he uses for a pillow to lay back, hurting. Justin's still dressed in trousers, boots and spurs.
She goes to remove his spurs and boots. "Yes fetch me the water please." She does not seem to notice or mind. "I am going to get you cleaned up and comfortable. I will bind your ribs. I would give you something stronger but I would rather not for it is just your ribs and if you cannot feel them you would not know if you were going to do more harm to them." While she works she talks. "Justin, I am serious when I say you take another good blow like that you will be in worse shape than you are now. They are wearing plate you are not. Do you really think your ribs could take another direct blow? I cannot tell you what to do but I can advise." She waits until she has the water back. Then she goes to clean him up and she washes her hands. Everthing she does shows her skill and she is gentle and careful.
Oh, that's better. Laying himself out flat on his back eases some of the preassure from his chest and the drag of weight against his much abused shoulder and left arm. Justin lets out a breath, "It'll be a long time … ere I can afford a proper breastplate." There's that nasty scar that snakes along his left side ribs and a smaller matching one along the outside of his left forearm. Discolored flesh around his left side chest and shoulder are more what's troubling him, impacts that his shield could not entirely turn aside or absorb.
What /is/ she doing? Tugging off his boots? Justin raises his head, surprised. Now she's lecturing at him. The lad comes back in with the bucket, heated water mixed with cooler so it's not too hot. He starts picking up Justin's surcoat and tunic so they can be washed and mended. Justin bites back his protest and only frowns, saving his breath for the moment. He tips his head back, adrenline wearing thin and pain seeping in. "I'll think about it, Mistress."
"I have heard that before." She goes to wash her hands with the soap and water and then with a cloth she goes to get him more comfortable. As she does this she look at the lad. "Hot water and I mean hot and I need a mug. Thank you." She really is careful. "I took the boots and spurs off because once the excitment wears off you will not be able to. Trust me." She eyes him. She is careful. "I am serious." She moves to check his sheild arm next. Her examination and washes away the sweat. "After I get you leand up I will be applying an ointment to your ribs and the burises. After that I will bind them. You are not to do anything I would deem not helpful to your ribs for a little bit. Give them a chance to heal. I will also give you some willowbark tea to dull the pain. When you sleep tonight. Sleep so that you are inclined a little bit. And do not sit too much. If you do you could develope a lung infection."
This all sounds rather serious for some bruises. Justin doesn't much want her messing with his arm but he grits his teeth, "I've been hurt before. I have no intention of sitting around the rest of the tournament stuck in this pavilion if I can help it." He spaces his words out a bit for easier breaths. The boy goes on out to fetch the cup of hot water for tea as he's bid, saying nutt'n, ma'am. Justin's eyes her, "My ribs aren't broken … are they?"
Once his chest is washed and cleand she washes her hands again. She dips her fingers into a jar of ointment the pungent smell of the herbs fills the tent. She careful rubs it into each rib and as she does so she checks his ribs by touch. "Cracked or broken same thing in my eyes. One just mean they have not fractured appart." She tells him. Her eyes are on his chest and more speficially his ribs. She continues to rub the ointment in. "You still cannot catch your breath very well. I would bet money that if you tried to get up you will be hurting." She says in a gentle manner. She nods at the boy who bring her the water for the tea. "In the baske there is a green leather pouch. Tak out four pinches and lace it with honey, let it steep for a quarter of a candle mark." She tells the boy. She finishes and then looks at Justin. "I need you to sit up so I can fishin and so I can bind your ribs. Would you like some help?"
The lad nods and does as he is bid, holding up the pouch she mentions and looking to Dania to see if it's the right one before he goes sticking his fingers in there. A careful looking in, incase there's scorpions in there or something freaky like bat eyeballs, but it just looks like … well, he's not sure. Chopped or ground up bits of thin bark slivers, maybe. The lad is careful not to smell of it and measures out four not large pinches. As for honey, he's less certain and has to get up to go and see if some can be found.
Justin is content to just lay there resting. He winces a bit when her fingers press into the sorest, most abused areas. "No, I can sit up." Stubborn man, he shifts his arms to do so. He bares his teeth but does manage to lever himself up. She's right thought that he'll be a lot stiffer and more sore tomorrow than he is yet.
Once he is upright she washes his back and applies more ointment. Next she starts to bind his ribs. She uses a rolled long bandage of muslin and linen. She is careful as she can be. As she does this she calls to the boy. "Add another you are too cautious." She then goes back to what she was doing. "You are a stubborn man. If you hurt or you feel a rib even move I want and need you to send someone for me okay. I know you think I am an alarmist. But, I promise I am not. I have seen my fair share of this injury."
It feels really strange to have someone washing him and applying ointment. Brings back memories of those awful months laid up in Seagard, eager to be home. Justin nods, "No sparring with blugeons, got it. I'll be fine, Mistress. I think … I will appreciate the tea." Sitting up is harder to breath and strains muscles a lot more than laying down. As the binding makes his ribs more snug that helps. Seems to make it a little easier for him to breath. "I doubt much is going to move around with your doing that."
The lad comes back in with a small clay jar and a spoon to dollup a bit of honey into the cup. Justin puts up a hand, "Go lightly. I don't like things sweet." The youth nods and also adds a bit more of the 'tea' that Dania said he was too skimmpy with measuring.
"Keep the bag and have another cup in four candle marks. You are going to hurt." She tells him. She moves to wash her hands again. "I can change the binding in the morning. I washed you to keep the dried sweat itching." She leans in and gives him a kiss on his forhead if he allows her to. "That is so you may have a speedy recovery." She then moves to put away her ointment and bandages. "Remember nothing that I would deem as stupid."
Wait, what's that for? Oh. Justin quirks his mouth, "Hey, maybe I need to get banged up more often." He grins and then eases himself to lay back down flat, everything being easier than scrunched sitting up. A soft sigh, "Thanks, Dania. Easier to breath, and doesn't ache so much." If he dosen't move his shoulder the binding makes it feel almost like he's not hurt at all. But there's always tomorrow to remind him later. The boy has left the tea to steep, tidying things up. Justin turns his head, "No, don't take that ribbon." He beckons the lad closer, "Give it to me." The yellow ribbon that had been tied around his upper left arm is given over to his right hand. Justin holds it up to look at Roslyn's favour, then lowers his hand but keeps it to idly rub his fingers against.
"Are you in love with her?" Dania asks him as she goes to take a seat. She is a bold one in private but never in public. "If you get hurt too much they will take you out of my care and give you to the Maesters. Though I am just as skilled as they are they lack my charms." She tells him with a warm cheerful laugh.
Damnit, don't make him laugh! Because that's just cruel. Justin manages not to but he huffs a breath that is almost a laugh before he grimaces with the discomfort, "You do have charms. I think Kain has noticed, good man." He lifts up the ribbon to look at it again, loosing some of his smile, "No, I don't love her. I don't know her well enough for that, Dania. But … I do want a wife. I think she and I could get along well, if ever … the politics get sorted out." Clearly he's a little fond of Roslyn. Justin lets the ribbon pool over his chest when he lowers his hand. He closes his eyes, wanting to rest.
Without opening his eyes, Justin adds low, "Her favour brought me good luck today."
"I do not think so, I should have been born a boy." She grins wickedly. "Justin you will have a wife whether it be her or another. You will learn to be fond of her, it just takes time. You are stranger to her as well. The politics will always be there. It is just a matter of your wife and you learning how set aside family wants and needs and learn to strive towards a goal together." She shrugs her shoulder. "I do want you to drink all of that tea. "Rest I will let you be. Dream of ribbons, fair madiens and may that favor give you more luck as the politcs are about raise thier ungly head. Well at least Mallisters, or at lest that is what I think."
That last part makes him turn his head slightly to try and look at her, lifting a dark brow. Whatever is Dania talking about? He leaves the ribbon laying where it is and accepts the cup, lifting his head to cautiously sip from it. Ick, bitter. Justin makes a face, partly because it hurts to strain his shoulder by lifting his head, but he makes himself drink down more of the tea. About half of it, before he rests more. "Nasty stuff. Aye, will finish it. Later you can explain to me what you mean by that last sentence." For now, however, he's going to rest some. And finish that tea, then sleep if he can.