|Summary:||Treats, Threats and Teasing in the infirmary.|
|Related Logs:||Sickbed Visits|
|Infirmary — Tordane Tower|
|A place for being sick.|
|Tue Jan 17, 289|
With the intention to purchase a room at Crane's Crossing, Gedeon was informed, upon arrival, that those injured knights coming from battle are to report to the tower to have their injuries seen by the maester. A room is arranged for, anyhow, in the hopes the visit to the maester might be swift and permit him a stay in a place of his choosing. Then, he's brought to Tordane Tower where he's given a bed with a privacy curtain to rest while he waits for the maester to attend him. He's got a cup cradled in his hands that steams lazily. Likely some concoction prescribed by one of his healers back at the camp. He's alone in the curtained 'room', the men of house Valentin a bit too occupied with fighting off Ironborn to play nursemaid.
The tap of footsteps can be heard leading to Gedeon's room in the Infirmary, although likely not for the first time today with all the comings and goings of nobility who have stayed their rest in Stonebridge rather than the beleagured Roost. This sound stutters to a stop at his curtain and goes no further. Waiting. Listening for signs of life within Gedeon's room. There is no call or announcement of presence, but rather a shadow of a hand that lifts to ease the curtain quietly aside. She peeks her blonde head in with a smile, glancing towards the bed to see if its occupant is asleep.
The sound of footfalls doesn't concern Gedeon, but the pause, without a greeting, that does. As a shadow lingers outside his curtained space, the tea is set down so that the blond knight might reach a hand beneath his pillow and curl his fingers around the handle of the dagger that rests there. He is tense and watchful as hand reaches and the curtain is moved aside… and then he exhales a slow breath out as Danae peers within. He offers her a smile, mostly of relief. "Lady Westerling," he begins as his hand retreats from beneath the pillow and he gathers up his tea again. "Please come in, my lady. How good to see you."
"I apologize for not knocking, I did not want to disturb you if you were asleep," Danae says softly, tipping her head at Gedeon's odd position on the bed. The curtain is pushed open more widely, revealing the lady as well as her guard in attendance — one who gives her a look, then follows her into the room to stand facing the curtain. The action pulls a twist of amusement to Danae's lips as she moves towards the bed in a manner that is a little too anxious to be considered elegant. "How fare you, Ser?" She wonders as she comes to a stop next to the bed, a small green bouquet clasped in her hands.
Gedeon says nothing of his odd position, but only takes a gulp of tea. Not a pleasant flavor, perhaps. Certainly it smells more of medicinal herbs than a drink simply for flavor's sake. The corner of his lips quirk as the guard turns his back on the room, and he peers over at Danae as she approaches with mild haste. "Better, thank you, my lady. I am told the infection has receded and barring something fouling the wound again, I am like to recover fully."
"I brought you something to help with that," Danae offers with a low chuckle as the medicinal scent of the tea reaches her nose. "Don't tell whoever is attending your wounds…it won't do anything medicinal, but it will sweeten the flavor of the brew." Her smile twists with a touch of mischief as she delicately tears a leaf from the stem and pops it in her mouth. A gesture in good faith to prove it isn't poison. Chewing easily, she licks her lips before offering over the curious bouquet. "I am glad to hear of it. You have been taken well enough care of — then?" A note of hesitance softens her tone, perhaps recalling their earlier conversation.
Gedeon chuckles, and the wince is smaller when he does, accepting the offered 'bouquet'. "I…" he frowns a little. "The care I received in camp has much restored me. I have yet to be seen by a Stonebridge healer, though the maester will be looking over the wound and changing the stitches shortly, I am made to understand. I admit, I am a bit more wary of that care."
"The stitches so tied in you by the Lady Cordelya and the Misstress must be changed though. You think you that something might be tried so adverse? I only know little of your politics. It seems to me that it might reflect…poorly on the good Maester himself," Danae muses softly, gaze slipping over Gedeon to linger on where his wound might lay beneath the sheets. It flits back to his features, accompanied by a half-way twist of a smile. "I should not think that they would question you having a…friend on hand for the Maester's ministrations. Should they?"
"Yes, indeed they must be, as is proper and fitting with such an injury. And who but an established maester should do the tending, when the wounded is a knight injured in defense of the realm?" Gedeon agrees with a wry smile. "And it may well be that is all there is to it and my fears are unfounded. But…" he pauses to study his cooling, half-drunk tea, "I do have fears, my lady." His lips lift a little for the last. "No, perhaps they would not. I have asked the Lady Lucienne Terrick to be present. I trust her and I think she's the stomach to endure observing such unpleasantries."
There is a manner of intensity to Danae's gentle gaze as she considers the knight and his fears, thoughtful and silent for a beat. "No. It would not do for you to be seen by anyone other than a Maester — however, did you know I have long been interested in chiurgeony, Ser Gedeon? The lady Cordelya was going to instruct me further in the study, as my own studies have only allowed for that of herbs. I would very much care to observe the Maester's work, with my own guard in attendance of course." There is a quirk to her brow, smile broad and warm as she regards him. "I would take no offense should you prefer the company of the Lady Terrick, she is a charming thing."
"She is at that," Gedeon agrees, drawing in a soft breath and then downing the rest of the tea before setting the empty cup aside. "But I should not wish to deny you a rare observation in tending a wound recovering from infection. Seems an invaluable lesson for a young woman with an interest in Chiurgeonry. So, if you should like to attend, for your own education and as a proper chaperone for Lady Lucienne, I would not protest."
"I am yet unwed, so my propriety as a chaperone only goes so far…but yes. It is far more suitable to have two ladies and their guard in attendance than else," Danae agrees softly, tucking a fair blonde curl back behind her ear. "I ah — thank you for lesson upon your honor, Ser. It is likely that it shall prove all too valuable with how the battles may yet continue, even with the first of them won." Her words are not overly optimistic, however slight the smile on her lips may be.
"I greatly hope so, my lady. I've a mind to fight many more battles yet," Gedeon agres, returning her slight smile. He breaks off a leaf from the bouquet she brought, lifting it in a small toast before popping it into his mouth and chewing.
"But for a sword of my own, I do not think that I shall ever comprehend the will of men to fight so fervently," Danae replies with a shake of her head. Gedeon startles a honest laugh out of her with his toast, hand rising to cover her smile. The plant tastes sweeter, crisp and vaguely mint-ish.
"We are a mysterious sort, we men," Gedeon agrees, one brow arching as a hint of mint suffuses his tastebuds. After swallowing down the leaf he asks, "What's the name of this plant, my lady?"
"It's just sweet mint. I grew some at home and am well familiar with it," Danae admits with a slight blush. Gedeon's comment on his gender makes her chuckle. "Not so mysterious as /that/, although you do have occasion for it."
"Inexplicable?" the blond knight offers around a playful smile, "Infuriating? Bombastic? I think I have heard all of these terms used to describe us by your fairer sex. We must keep ourselves interesting, my lady, if we ever hope to win women's hearts. You are very particular, I am given to understand, about whom to offer such."
"Infuriating, indeed. Bombastic, perhaps. I believe 'incorrigible' is also one of those that comes to head the in the description of your stouter gender," Danae teases with the low chime of a laugh. "Our particularity is our virtue, good Ser. Should a heart be won, it seems to me that it is jealously claimed and held — it need not be an easy task."
"You know, now you mention it, I do believe have been called that on an occasion or two," Gedeon muses, his finger tapping thoughtfully on his knee. His lips lift in a smile, fond and perhaps a little winsome. "Difficult to win. Even greater a challenge to keep," he opines of women's hearts.
Danae's mouth twists into an impish quirk; she watches him through blonde lashes before leasing a wry, "I can only imagine, Ser." Her hands settle at her waist, gently clasped. "In many cases it is that we have to give. I do not think they are so hard to keep once earned, although I am certain as I say that the world seems to lay obstacle's in a lover's path. Although, knowing how men love a challenge — it might be the thing to hold their interest."
"All depends on the man, I expect," Gedeon replies with a faint smile. "Some prefer the chase to the catch, true enough. Others wish to further explore what has been caught and claimed. But… an easy and uneventful courtship would hardly make for a worthy poem or novel, and that is where young girls go to learn what to expect in love."
"If you wish to speak of a folly of my gender, Ser. Then that would be the one which I would claim," Danae replies softly, voice dry for the subject. "There is nothing that ranks a book nor a poem that that ends in simple success. Too much rankled tragedy for my tastes."
"And you, my lady?" Gedeon asks, brows lifting quizzically, "Would you have the simpler and more realistic quick success, or do you, too, hope for a courtship fraught with doubt and adventure?"
Danae tips her head with a half smile, blonde curls spilling over shoulder of her blue dress in a slow slope. "I should be curious which you would think of think more like of me, Ser? I would take no offense either way."
"Oh, I am walking the knife's edge now," Gedeon murmurs with a wry shake of his head even as he studies Danae in an attempt to disassemble her inner hopes, when it comes to love. "I think…" he begins slowly as he studies the blue of her dress, the spill of her hair, the color of her eyes as they peer at him, "that you are a pragmatist to the world and a romantic at heart. You are prepared for the banalities of reality, but there is, within you, a quiet hope for more."
"Think it a challenge of your wits, Ser," Danae encourages the wounded knight. His answer causes her eyes to widen slightly and her smile to shrink on her mouth, becoming all the more genuine for the shift. "I think that a kind and well thought answer. Thank you," she says quietly.
"A pleasure, my lady," Gedeon says, affecting as much of a bow as being abed allows. "I think I prefer that smile to your other. It makes you shine."
"A kind honor, indeed Ser Gedeon. I will not admit to how truthful thought, for a lady must keep some secrets from keen eyes," Danae teases gently, eyes bright as she slips into the clean fold of a curtsey. "Oh." His other words cause a light flush to rise to her cheeks and she looks away a touch sheepishly. It is only a moment before she glances back towards him with the quirk a brow. "What do they teach you knights of Oldstones? The lot of you spool words like ladies spool threads."
"Indeed, a touch of mystery can be worn by a lady as the finest of jewels, if it is not excessive or garishly presented," Gedeon answers, watching Danae thoughtfully. For her blush, a bright, almost playful smile presents white teeth and a sudden flush of health in a face that is otherwise still too pale. "It is our many travels in distant countries. Being eloquent is essential in a foreign land, if one has no wish to gain every small thing by their blade."
"Then I shall endeavor to allow mine to gain some age, perhaps earn a touch of silt to temper a garish glimmer," Danae says softly, a glint of good humor to her expression. A hand rises as if to adjust her mystery as she would adjust the ever present chain around her neck. Gedeon's brilliant smile just makes her blush deepen bringing out roses in her cheeks. "I do not think," she begins slowly, "then, that you knights should ever not gain your wishes — although I have seen Ser Coope's charm fall deafeningly on Lord Rygar's ears."
Gedeon chuckles warmly as Danae adjusts the enigma she wears about her neck, and then again as she speaks on Ser Rygar. "If you ever find a person my lady, man or woman, who could charm Ser Rygar, I should be well impressed. He seems to be a fellow shaped wholly for disdain."
"It is my belief that such a dutiful man as Ser Rygar might only find charm in competence and excellence, Ser. It is not a pretty word that would sway a heart such as his," Danae attests with a slight shake of her head.
"I should like to see even the competence and excellence that may well please him," Gedeon replies with a small nod. "As of yet, I have only borne witness to slightly reduced disapproval."
The tip of Danae's head is not in disagreement as she adjusts her skirts, considering his words. "Excellence is not a word given easily…less so for a man such as he. It could be that is his manner of voiced approval. I do not know him well enough to judge."
"Perhaps so," Gedeon allows with a small shrug. "If you ever meet the person who manages to call him friend, I should greatly like to meet him. Ser Rygar strikes me as a man both very proud and, perhaps, very much alone."
"If I ever do, I promise to take great pains to offer that introduction," Danae vows gently, although she does not attempt to argue elsewise. "I think many people of great pride are alone…although, truthfully the later judgement could apply to many people."
"I shall forever be in your debt for that introduction," Gedeon agrees with another warm smile. He considers the rest of Danae's words before nodding a little. "I suppose that's true enough. Companionship cannot always be measured by the number of bodies around a person."
"Mhm. No. It is near impossible judge companionship in numbers." Danae's reply has a touch of melancholy to it, although she does cast a glance towards her guard with a half-smile. In diffident kindness the man remains with his back turned to the conversation, allowing a measure of privacy despite the relative quiet of the infirmary.
Gedeon's gaze follows Danae's and he watches the guard's back for a moment. "Then again," he offers gently, "friends may be found where one least expects them, as well."
Looking back to Gedeon, Danae offers another of those small smiles. "That is very true, Ser," she agrees. "I should let you rest though. I have take up enough of you time." Expression warm, she dips into a slight curtsey.
Gedeon offers another pseudo-bow as Danae dips into a curtsy. "Until later, lady Westerling. It has been a rarefied pleasure."
"Charmer," Danae chides lightly with a warm grin, before exiting with a sweep of her skirts.