Johan swallowed uncomfortably under Fiori’s taller stature, and his shoulders sank. “Play along,” he echoed flatly. His gaze drifted sideways thoughtfully. It did seem like a good idea, as strange as it sounded at first. He could play along for now until he was able to slip out of the palace completely. Johan snapped his gaze back to Fiori again, his lips pursed indignantly as if he were still refusing. “Alright,” he finally relented. “But all I’m doing is playing along.”
Fi relaxed, letting go of Johan with palpable relief. For someone who wanted to be king someday, he showed his emotions very openly. They all flickered through his eyes, one after another until things clicked and clicked and he answered. "I know." His own eyes were soft and worried and he drew Johan in close, tucking his arm beneath the prince's to help support him. "That is all I ask of you, that you play along until you can be free."
Johan grimaced. Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, he had no other choice but to lean against Fiori for support. His torso already so weak from the light movement of earlier. He stared down at the floor. “And I suppose Leviticus conveniently forgot to mention when he will let me free?” He scoffed. “If it were up to him I would be wearing that collar until the day I die.”
Fi didn't touch him any more than he had to, quickly leading Johan over to his bedroom. The walk was too fast and too quiet and Fi set Johan down like he was burning him as soon as he could, gingerly placing him on the bed before he left for the bathroom. He splashed his face with water a few times, calming himself, and once he'd managed to put himself together again he was back. "Can I put it on you?"
Johan shifted more comfortably onto the bed while he waited for Fiori to return from the bathroom. Every inhale felt like a knife to his chest, so he tried to even his breathing in hopes that it would hurt less. Somehow it seemed to be worse than it had been at the kitchens. He raised his gaze up to Fiori, expression notably pained. “Gh, fine. Sure. I’m playing along,” he grit his teeth.
Fi paused when he caught sight of Johan's face. Pained, so very pained—it must be his ribs. Was it all the walking that had disturbed them? Or had the last dregs of shock finally slipped away? "Take shallow breaths, the physician should be here soon. And… lie down." He eased his hands around Johan's shoulders, tipping him back onto the bed. Getting him straightened out would be good, lying flat gave you the most room to breathe. "Perhaps we can wait with the collar."
Johan groaned lowly at the movement, relaxing as he settled down against the pillows again. “Good,” he breathed. “The closest physician, her name is Eirlys. She is likely the one they sent for.” He at least hoped she was the physician on the way. He knew her, not well, but she had tended to him before; she was the one who stitched his cheek back together after he returned from his tour—and insisted that he allow himself time to completely heal. He also seemed to brighten Fiori’s suggestion to wait in the collar. “Yes, yes. We can wait.”
Fiori nodded, managing to calm down a bit as he watched Johan relax. "Is she good?" He knew Levi wasn't petty enough to hire a shitty physician just to spite his brother, but it was good to be worried just in case. Vigilance helped you stay afloat in places like these. He laughed a bit when he saw Johan brighten, placing the collar over on the foot of the bed with a firm nod. None of that, not when there was nobody to see it. "The physician, why does she not live at the palace? Would that not be more convenient?"
“She’s good enough,” Johan replied, clasping his hands over his stomach. Talking seemed to help distract him from his pain, so he rambled to the ceiling. “Not as good as the last physician, Piaras. Her father. But she stitched my face back together quite nicely.” Piaras, Johan’s childhood physician, died shortly after sending Eirlys as the attending physician for the prince’s battalion. And when they returned from the tour, she took authority over her father’s office. “It would be convenient for me if she lived in one of our empty rooms, yes, but she treats citizens who live outside of the castle too.” He glanced over at the door when a soft knock interrupted him.
“Vispodín,” a servant called through the door to Fiori, a general term of respect that would have preceded his surname if the footman would have known it. “The physician is here to treat the Pri— Johannan.” Clearly it would take some getting used to for the palace staff to refrain from addressing him as Prince.
Fi hummed softly, glancing back at the scar cutting across Johan's cheek. "She did," he agreed quietly. "I have to say, I was surprised when I first saw you. It healed so well." Fi had seen a lot of scars in hid life and the facial ones never ended up pretty. Most people ended up with their eyes drooping or lips pulled up in an eternal half-smile because of how the skin tightened as it healed. "It is very good of her to share her talent with the people, though I assume her care is not without… oh." He turned to the door, glancing between it and Johan. "Keep talking, please."
He walked over, giving the servant a polite smile. "Yes, Leviticus told me she would be in." He didn't comment on the footman's slipup. "Could you send her up?"
Johan following Fiori across the room with his gaze. He took in another shallow breath before continuing, “I tried to convince her to move her office here in a room downstairs, but she refused. She seems pretty attached to the building specifically.” He glanced back up at the ceiling when Fiori opened the door. He recognized the servant from the hallways, while they didn’t know each other well personally.
The footman bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, Vispodín. She will be right up.” He passed a curious glance past Fiori towards Johan laying down on the bed, and then he was turning on his heel to leave.
Fi nodded, gave a quiet thank you, and shut the door, turning to Johan with a confused frown. "What is a… a vespadin?" He winced slightly as he butchered the pronunciation, but the word was still vaguely understandable so he kept pushing forward. "Is that something bad? Am I being insulted?" Probably not, or Johan would've been laughing at him behind his back, but he still had to make sure. "Would you even tell me if I was?"
Johan softly snickered over to Fiori, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It was almost amusing seeing him so confused. “Calm down, it’s just a vague term of respect. If you don’t trust me, ask Leviticus. It’s just what you say when you don’t know a man’s name or title. Can’t go wrong with a simple Vispodín.”
A few minutes after the servant left, another hand’s knuckles rapped against the door. “Medical Practitioner requesting entrance.”
Johan sent a lopsided smile upwards, recognizing the odd greeting. It hadn’t changed since he met her last. “That’s Eirlys.”
Fi relaxed some, nodding. "No, no… I trust you." It felt weird to say the words, like he was putting too much faith in Johan, but that was silly. This was just a fleeting interaction, it didn'tmean anything. "You need to teach me how to say that later, though. Your words are all too slippery, they do not work for me."
He shook his head, crossing over to the door and inviting the physician in with a cordial smile. "Ms. Eirlys, hello. Please come in, is there anything I can do to help you while you are here?"
“Thank you,” Eirlys offered Fiori a brief, warm smile in return, and stepped inside. Her gaze darted around the room for her patient. Seeing him on the bed, she returned her attention back to Fiori. “You must be Fiori. If you have any competence in medicine your assistance would be greatly appreciated.” She slipped the leather bag off of her shoulder, and set it down on the foot of the bed. Her eyes lingered on the collar for a moment before she continued. “The Prince Regent Leviticus told me only a little bit about the attack. I’ll need more information to start off with.”
Johan craned his neck to see her standing near the end of the bed. She looked different now. Older, and more burdened than she had during the tour. Eirlys was now in her early thirties, and to show for the stress of her field she had gray strands among the rest of her dark hair—pinned back in a modest bun—and soft creases in her face.
Fiori scanned her up and down and was surprised to find how familiar she seemed. The look on her face was one he'd seen on a thousand battlefields in a thousand different med tents. He led her over to the bed, gently prodding Johan into setting his arms at his sides so she could get a proper look. "I would be happy to help, though I will warn you that my training is as basic as it comes. My information on the initial assault is limited, I am afraid. If you could give me a more specific question, I may be able to provide you with a more in depth answer."
Eirlys hummed in acknowledgement, deciding to give Johan a once over before she made any clarification. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside Johan, and leaned over him to look closer at the bruises on his face. Shaking her head like a disappointed mother, she spoke to him. “I’m surprised no one has sent for me to look at your wounds from petty fist fights before now. The bruises on your face will be fine and fade on their own—if you give them a chance to. Don’t be getting yourself into any more fights.” She turned to Fiori once again, who she assumed would give more objective answers as Johan’s caretaker than Johan himself would. “Where is he hurt the worst?”
"The most extensive wounds are on his ribs. I would be concerned about his neck," he gestured towards the still heavy bruising, "but he can speak perfectly fine and does not seem to have any pain beyond what you would expect. It is similar with the wrists." He reached over, giving Johan a questioning look before his hands settled on the hem of his shirt. Asking if it would be okay for him to show Eirlys the worst of the wounds. "I assume he was kicked, and when we found him he was being held under the water. Damage to his lungs is likely, as is damage to his ribs. He seems to have been experiencing pain with movement and shortness of breath. He cannot walk on his own." He listed the wounds with a clinical distance in his tone. "What would you diagnose?"
Johan nodded faintly in allowance. Now that Eirlys was here he seemed more open to letting someone see his torso.
Eirlys listened to Fiori’s every word as she gently pushed Johan’s shirt up. “Shortness of breath and coughing is common with bruised and broken ribs. I can’t be certain which yet. I worry that if his ribs are broken they could damage the lungs even more than they might be already. When you pulled him out did he vomit water?” She brushed her hand against the wrappings. “And I will have to take this off to fully examine him. Prop him upright with some pillows against the headboard,” she gestured.
Fi nodded. "I thought as much. I know my opinion does not mean much, but I think a broken rib is unlikely. He can move with some degree of freedom, and while he does seem pained it is not to the extent you would expect from a break." Fi's eyes swept over Dami's torso and he propped Johan up the way he'd been told, gently setting him into place. "I am not certain, but I believe he coughed up a small volume of water. Leviticus would have a better idea, he was with Johannan at the time."
Johan groaned at the movement as he was set upright, and as he had to arch his back slightly while Eirlys unwrapped the bandages. He shut his eyes tight in a futile attempt to try and block out the pain.
Eirlys studied the gnarly bruises painted on Johan’s torso with a focused frown. “In this case I will have to agree with you.” With the wrappings set aside, she delicately pressed against his ribs in search for any movement that might suggest a fracture—successfully earning several whimpers from Johan. “Unfortunately I can’t do anything for bruised ribs except give my medical advice: keep him upright while he sleeps in order to avoid a chest infection, and if he starts to cough have him hug a pillow to his chest. For the swelling today give him ice, and tomorrow onwards have him soak in a warm tub with salts to help with the pain. It would also be best for him to sit most of the day, except for intermittent walks to keep his chest clear.” She easily recited the instructions as she had many times to her patients who liked to spar or happened to accidentally find themselves in fights. Nord Widona was in general a peaceful country, but not every citizen could be perfectly dosile.
Fi propped a pillow up under Johan's back, smoothing the sheets down on top of his legs in a feeble attempt to help him stay comfortable. He winced with each of Johan's whimpers, reaching over to take his hand and squeeze. He hoped Johannan would remember their deal for when he was wrapping: squeeze as hard as you want, but stay still and let me work. "I see, could you print those instructions on a sheet of paper for me? I will not remember and Johannan will fight me on anything I say without you to back it up. And… can you offer any additional advice? Should I keep his ribs wrapped? Should I keep anything on hand to help prevent infection?"
Johan instinctively squeezed Fiori’s hands when Eirlys pressed much too painfully on his bruises. He clenched his jaw, and the relaxed as she pulled away again. He tentatively opened his eyes again and stared blankly upwards.
Eirlys nodded, “I don’t doubt that. Johannan has fought me before whenever I try to treat him. I’ll send you a paper copy of my instructions,” she promised, reaching over to her bag and rummaged through it. “And I would not have his ribs wrapped, especially since he should stay still for most of the day. Wrapping his ribs will restrict him from taking a deep breath.” She handed him a small glass bottle closed with a cork. “This lavender oil should help him relax, and you should have some peppermint tea on hand for his airways.”
Fi squeezed his hands once as Eirlys pulled away, turning his attention back to the physician. "I see." The lavender was set aside, marked in his head so he would remember to make Johan use it. "How long should I keep him on bed rest? And… please give me a conservative estimate. I do not wish to struggle with him any longer than I have to." Keeping Johan in bed was going to be hell no matter how long it lasted, but it would be especially heinous if it had to last for more than a week. He'd have to figure out some way to entertain the prince, some way to keep him still and docile and not fighting him every step of the way.
"Bruised ribs usually heal on their own in around three to five weeks" Eirlys replied. "He should get up to take a short walk twice a day. And even after that time he shouldn't go immediately back to sparring or picking fights." She pulled Johan's shirt back down round his torso and stood up from the bed. "If you have any questions after I leave you can either write me a letter or send for me if you think it's serious, Especially if he shows signs of infection. In his airway or otherwise." She swung the bag over her shoulder. "I bid you good luck with trying to keep him sedentary. He's refused my explicit advice many times before. Is there anything else you need from me right now?"
Johan settled his hands in his lap again after his shirt was fastened down again. "I had a job to do, Eirlys," he muttered. "I was still on a tour. Talking was kind of essential while I was in charge of a group of soldiers."
