mnt_raph | (no subject)

By this point the fighting has all but ended, and the tending of the wounded by according to their injuries has begun. Raph, who refuses to admit that the injuries he has sustained during the seige are anything other than cosmetic in nature, has been sorting and relocating the dead by alliegence. Mostly people stay out of his way, but one of the King's Own notices that his hands have begun to shake, his fellow warriors take it upon themselves to get him the medical care he needs. In the end it takes two knights and a healer to corral Raph to triage, and even then it's only after someone's promised him that they will find Abigail and assure him that she is okay.

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From:

mnt_raph

"F'the time bein', yeah."

His smile broadens. Angry is good. Angry means it's not as bad as everyone in this tent seems to think it is. Raph likes it when he's right.

"They won't lemme lay down," he says with an eye roll.

Mostly because they're afraid if he sleeps he won't wake back up again.

From:

becareful_boyo

Smiling doesn't help his case any. How dare he be such a mess!

"That so?" Abigail asks the healer nearest the only patient she bothers to see in a tent full of wounded people. "You won't let him?"

"Ah," says the healer, "it likely wouldn't hurt. Now."

"Hmph," says Abigail.

She'll wake him up if it's needed. No one there has any doubt about that.

"Let's have a look at those wounds, then." Abigail bustles over, all business. "No one wraps a bandage right anymore."

The healer wisely refrains from further comment.

From:

mnt_raph

A low hiss escapes him as she futzes with the bandages on his arms.

"Abs, they're fine. Let'em set. Really. It's okay."

It's partly self-preservation, and partly to protect her. He knows that his blood is the last thing she should really come into direct contact with.

From:

becareful_boyo

One bandage comes loose. All Abigail can see underneath are angry red burns and blood. A similar hiss escapes, and she quickly fixes the bandage, muttering to herself about fools and heroes being one and the same. Finished, she blinks rapidly and pulls Raph forward by the ears. First there's a kiss, then she pulls down gently on one ear and leans forward to grumble:

"Next time send a proper message, you dolt."

From:

mnt_raph

Raph steals a quick glance of eye contact before he nods in understand.

"Message received. Loud an' clear," he says with a sigh. "Jus'...didn't want you or the kids to...see, I guess."

Because seeing the battle isn't the same as seeing the aftermath.

From:

becareful_boyo

"To see what? A few bruises and red marks? Mithros, we've all seen worse when some idiot falls in his cups and then the tavern hearth. Are we done here, then?"

This last is directed at the healer. "I've done what... he'll let me," the man says. "Keep him warm and dry, but yes. I could use the table for men facing worse."

And he wouldn't mind seeing the back of her, Abigail bets.

From:

mnt_raph

If that's what she thinks he's protecting her from, then that's the story he'll go with. It's not glamorous work, cleaning up after a battle. Hiding the bodies, burying the dead.

Raph doesn't wait for an engraved invitation, he hops off the table and begins to lumber his way out of the tent.

"There're the words I been waitin' to hear. C'mon, Abs. Let's get outta the man's way."

"Thanks, Doc." he says as he passes the man.

From:

becareful_boyo

"Good luck," he answers, dubiously. "You might need it."

Abigail ignores him.

"Here now. Let me help."

She moves close to Raph and attempts to work her way under his arm.

From:

mnt_raph

He's just happy she's there and safe, and as such it doesn't take much more than the first attempt to get close to him, which probably raises more than one pair of eyebrows.

"You should see the other guy," he quips.

From:

becareful_boyo

He can't see her face, so she snorts; it serves as an audible eyeroll.

"I saw enough of 'em afore I had to hide with the younglings," she states, stepping over a puddle of... something.

After that, she fixes her eyes on the castle as they make for the gate.

From:

mnt_raph

"Was a hell of a thing, that's for damn sure. Ain't seen a fight like that in a good long time."

He seems almost wistful about it really.

From:

becareful_boyo

Abigail stops short, grabbing his arm more firmly to ensure that he doesn't continue on and pitch face first into the mud.

"Am I to understand you enjoyed that mess?"

Of course he did. Furthermore, she 'enjoyed' watching him enjoy himself. She's just not over the shock of seeing him in that tent, bruised and battered.

"Should I go steal a prisoner to continue whackin' you about your half-witted head?"

From:

mnt_raph

There's a second there where Raph pitches a bit more sharply than he was expecting, an indicator of just how much he's allowing himself to lean on Abigail. It's not enough for him to fall over, but just the right amount to shake him from his post battle reverie.

"Nah," he says after a pause, as if he's actually considering her offer as genuine. "There'll be plenty more beatin' up on the way, still don't have a solid count of who was lost."

This isn't something he's used to, losing friends in a battle. Facing and comforting those left behind is going to be a new experience for him entirely.

From:

becareful_boyo

A quick clicking sound, almost a tsk, indicates what Abigail thinks about the first part of his response, but her gaze is clearly worried as she studies his profile.

"Do they think it's so many, then?" she asks, quietly.

No one has told her anything.

From:

mnt_raph

"Too soon to tell. Everyone's kinda everywhere at the moment. Ain't had the chance to do a good an honest headcount. Most of our casualties came from the walls or the field, and those that fell first out there got...well, the Stormwings..." He sort of lets that sentence fall.

"We buried them first. No good in havin' loved ones see'em like that. Marked the spots with what identifyin' stuff we could find. Swords. Shields. Boots. that sorta thing."

From:

becareful_boyo

Abigail says and does nothing for a long moment. Her eyes, wide and sad, are locked on his face. Then, holding his arm and waist tightly, she kisses his cheek and starts walking again.

Never did she think to see a day such as this.

"Dark God, grant them peace."

From:

mnt_raph

"He better, or I'll find'im and kick his ass."
Spoken like someone who once stood up to War. Oh sure he got his ass handed to him but good, but he still stood up.

From:

becareful_boyo

"Oh you would, would you?"

A bit relieved, Abigail lets go of his arm long enough to lightly smack his head.

"You need a bath, boy-o. And better sense."

From:

mnt_raph

"Ow! Hey! Watch it! Can't you see I'm the walkin' wounded here?" His protests are more whine than actual protest. "Besides, ain't a whole lot we can do 'bout either. Doc says I gotta stay dry, an' ain't no one been able to get better sense outta me yet."

From:

becareful_boyo

"Dry?" she sniffs, looking horrified. "You'll be recuperatin' in the barn, then. You and your pig-headedness should feel right at home."

This is utter nonsense, of course, which is why she's steering him toward one of the keep's side doors.

"The younglings'll want to see you."

From:

mnt_raph

"Younglings huh? So what you're tellin' me is that you're throwin' me outta the fryin' pan an' into the fire then? Perfect."

Oh is there no end to his bluster?

From:

becareful_boyo

Apparently not.

"Oh! To talk so, after you scared them half to death! They heard the same news I did," she chastises, "and for some reason they love you, you lug. They're wantin' to know you'll still be around t'try all our nerves, and not pickin' fights with the Dark God in the afterlife."

From:

mnt_raph

Yeah, not so much, no.

"Better to be scared half, than actually be dead," he reasons. It's odd just how reassuring her tone is to him. The bickering is soothing, and the best indicator yet that things are going to be okay.