Tea and Sympathy
Healer, Counselor, Tea Connoisseur, Pastry Chef
The silver-haired priest considers for a moment, his gaze drifting distant. “I would be a small stone, at the bottom of my koi pond. Surrounded by familiar things, but distanced. Quiet and cool and dark. Not for terribly long, just… long enough.”
Something about Tuesdays
Go for asks, IC or OOC, anon or not.
Let me jump on this bandwagon tonight, yes.
It was the second night running that Aminas had been unable to get home without Yve’s help. Again he fell onto the bed in a fog of pain and confusion, letting Mi’rhi strip him of his leathers as Yve laid a hand on his chest, gently channeling the Light into his body in order to stave off what he…
Whether he had been sent for or if he had come on his own accord based on his assessment of the man the prior day when he had ventured into the city proper, the priest came.
Yet clad in morning blacks, Haestus nevertheless brought a calming influence with him as always, the impression of quiet, dignified competence. He listened carefully, making his customary notes in the little journal with Aminas’ name scribbled on the first page.
There was a touch of guilt that the lord had gone so long untreated, but rationally, Haestus knew that he’d not had the presence of mind to act as a physician in any capacity and might well have done more harm than good.
Finally tucking the book away, Haestus slipped into the room where Aminas was abed and still. Sinking into the chair next to the bed, the Lightmender set a gentle hand to Aminas’ forehead, bowing his own silvered head and began to soothe, to repair what delicate pieces the fits had ripped asunder.Aminas was deep inside, retreated into the stone cell in his mind in which he had spent so many years. The hole he had made with Haestus’ help was loosely bricked over with strange new stones—they were made of a tangle of images packed together, spanning from his betrayal by his brother all the way to the present trouble with the faceless foe who threatened his friends.
Aminas was within, kneeling on the floor—but he was slumped limply, reaching with what must have been a desperate urgency through the bars of the inner window towards the bright inner recesses of his mind, leaving the new wall unattended—to build itself, perhaps?—and he had at last been stricken with exhaustion.
“Aminas.” Haestus’ voice was gentle, as he ever was with the lord who suffered so greatly. The priest flickered slowly into view, inside the cell. He had been there before, he had made it that far and he would not give up that foothold so easily.
The priest’s image of himself had changed since he had last been in Aminas’ mind. Rather than humble robes of brown, Haestus was instead clad in simple, but elegant black. The color was too severe on the fair-haired, pallid priest. In addition to his clothes, the man himself had changed; before, he had appeared far younger, more vibrant, glowing with health and happiness, as well as the golden Light that outlined his form.
While the Light still illuminated him, however, the elf now appeared to Aminas much as he did in life, older now, with faint laugh lines on his face. He carried a quiet, dignified weariness about him, but most concerning of all was that Haestus’ form did not seem quite… solid. If Aminas looked hard enough, he could actually see the walls and bars of the cells behind him.
Haestus knew that he shouldn’t be here, not in his state - focusing was still difficult for him and there were yet moments when grief would take him completely by surprise, leaving no room for thoughts of anything but Cironis. It could potentially be disastrous if that happened while he was in Aminas’ mind - he could do more damage than good.
Even so, the lord desperately needed him, so the priest would do his best, as he always did.
“Aminas, I cannot stay long. Why have you given up? I am here with you, my friend. Come and speak to me, out there,” he said, gesturing back toward the door way.
It was the second night running that Aminas had been unable to get home without Yve’s help. Again he fell onto the bed in a fog of pain and confusion, letting Mi’rhi strip him of his leathers as Yve laid a hand on his chest, gently channeling the Light into his body in order to stave off what he…
Whether he had been sent for or if he had come on his own accord based on his assessment of the man the prior day when he had ventured into the city proper, the priest came.
Yet clad in morning blacks, Haestus nevertheless brought a calming influence with him as always, the impression of quiet, dignified competence. He listened carefully, making his customary notes in the little journal with Aminas’ name scribbled on the first page.
There was a touch of guilt that the lord had gone so long untreated, but rationally, Haestus knew that he’d not had the presence of mind to act as a physician in any capacity and might well have done more harm than good.
Finally tucking the book away, Haestus slipped into the room where Aminas was abed and still. Sinking into the chair next to the bed, the Lightmender set a gentle hand to Aminas’ forehead, bowing his own silvered head and began to soothe, to repair what delicate pieces the fits had ripped asunder.
Hug me! I was thinking Shae, but Haestus or Masrin might be amusing. Your choice. :)
— haestus“Should I follow him?” He had mused aloud, watching the retreating limp and forcibly calm bearing of the other mender with brow creased. Somewhere in the back of his mind, for the umpteenth time, he considered the technicalities of attempting to repair ruined ligament and sinew in the knees and legs. Even with an aptitude for such things, and a certain talent for rebuilding scar tissue, it was logistically damned near impossible.
Kae shook his head to Andreo, saying to let the man go. Good advice. Everyone needed time to clear their heads and recharge.
((Awwwwwwww. <3<3))
“This won’t hurt a bit.”
That was what he always told his patients, able - for the most part - to wield the Light painlessly to heal them. Warmth and comfort was what the injured and weak found with Haestus, succor offered to anyone who asked - and some who didn’t.
The light that welled up from the horizon was not painless, however - no, the brilliance of the dawn burned against the tired eyes of the elf who had sat by the window for six days now, neither eating nor speaking.
This dignified elf who rarely cried had shed more tears than he thought anyone had the capacity for - and then more - in memory of the man that he had loved wholly and completely. He withdrew from the world, retreating in the face of shock and grief to the gardens of his own mind. Silently and with no outward hint of the turbulence that raged within him, he howled out his agony, cursing the fates and blaming himself for somehow not having seen the tiny imperfection that had taken his hunter from him.
As all storms eventually calmed, however, so too did the frenzied mind of the gentle healer who had been hurt so deeply. Fury passed into ennui and fathomless despair and it seemed as though the Light that the priest had held within him had extinguished entirely.
That morning, however, as the rays of the sun fell over Haestus’ lined and haggard face, the radiance burned through the fog of apathy he had shielded himself in to try - in vain - to keep the pain of loss at bay. He blinked his tear-worn eyes as he focused his gaze for the first time in days, raising a shaking hand to block the brilliance.
A quiet sigh left him and he dipped his chin, a single, bare movement in acknowledgement of the message the Light had offered. Physician, heal thyself. Cironis would not have wanted him to grieve forever, would not have wanted him to waste away.
“I miss you, my heart,” he murmured, rising. It was time to come back to the world.
(via forthright-physician)
A single sheet of heavy vellum, wrapped with a black ribbon, arrives to each of those who call themselves friends to Haestus and Masrin Silverfire, and Cironis Van’thel. Upon opening the missive, they will find sharply elegant calligraphy flowing across the page, in ebon ink.
Dear Friends,
It is with a heavy heart that I pen this letter to you, on behalf of Haestus Silverfire, to inform you of the passing of Cironis Van’thel.
Our good friend went into the Light’s embrace last evening, succumbing suddenly to a small rupture in his brain. Despite Haestus’ best efforts, he was unable to heal or revive him. If any comfort can be gained from this sad event, it is in knowing that he did not suffer. His passing occurred just after a meal Haestus and Cironis had cooked together, in the treehouse behind the lodge they shared in the Valley of the Four Winds. He spent his last moments in his fiance’s arms, well-loved and happy.
Flowers and condolences may be sent to the lodge, however, it is respectfully requested that any who wish to visit Haestus please inquire with myself at the cottage beforehand.
May he rest in the Eternal Embrace of the Light.
Regretfully Yours,
Masrin Silverfire
Letter to Yve
Dear Lord Yvelian,
I hope this letter finds you well. I have sent along a crate of plum wine for you to share with Aminas and Lady Mi’rhi, as it is a vintage that I believe will be enjoyed by the three of you, and it was my understanding that none of you make any sort of frequent visits to Pandaria. Understandable, of course, affairs at home are rather turbulent during these troubling times, and of course, travel may not be convenient when His Lordship’s health is taken under consideration. All the same, should you or any of your household find cause to come to the Valley of the Four Winds, I trust you will consider this an open invitation to come to the lodge for rest, refreshment and company.
I wish to thank you for your aid in seeing me comfortably home last night. I rather suspect that such a task did not meet with your preferred activities for the evening - and in truth, that is what prompts my letter. I know that your heart longs for vengeance against those who committed such injustices against your Lord - and now, father, from what Miss Anshael tells me. (My sincerest congratulations to you for that happy occasion.) One could hardly blame you for desiring such - and no one would ever question your unfaltering regard for the man, having been witness to your anger upon being confronted by the culprits.
However, Yvelian, despite your inclination to the contrary, I would counsel you toward peace. While the acts they committed against Aminas were no less than horrific, even moreso for his state, restitution has been sought and so ordered by Aminas. Despite how the lack of equal suffering in kind may rankle, it is not for you to gainsay him. I will not lecture you on your duty; I am quite certain that Aminas is entirely capable of seeing to any necessary, remaining education of such topics for your new role as heir to your house.
Having merely stated such to preface what I consider to be the more pertinent point, I say this to you in the simplest terms I can muster - not as insult to your intelligence but to perhaps cut through the blind haze of anger, if any still rests upon your eyes:
Blood begets blood.
Think, Yvelian, what the potential consequences may be, should you seek - and succeed - in exacting physical vengeance. Do you believe this would bring them to heel, when they have proven willing to accost two lords of Silvermoon in plain sight of the Sun and all who pass? Do you, perhaps, think them without allies, without any who would rise to their call? They know who you stand for and they have seen your Lord’s weakness (though it is certainly no fault of his own). Aminas himself observed but a few days prior that his friends and caretakers cannot be by his side at every passing moment, nor do I believe that would be his wish, if it were possible. Is your drive for a return of Aminas’ suffering so great that you would risk his life to sate it? — because surely that is what they would come for.
For all of this, I do not seek to turn your mind toward fear, nor to convince you to swallow the bitterness of that justified rage. Shift your discontent toward constructive use, instead. Fortify his Lordship’s home, make his staff known to you if any are not, lend comfort to the man himself as you love him. Let the Light that resides within you temper fury into implacable resolve.
I pray that my words do not pass before closed eyes, Yvelian. I am inestimably fond of you and Aminas, as I am certain to be of Her Ladyship when we have the good fortune to meet. Whether you trust my assurances or not, I have always had, and continue to have, only yours and Aminas’ best interests in mind, as well as those of anyone else that this unfortunate circumstances have touched.
Light guide and keep you and yours.
Warmest Regards,
H. Silverfire
A letter from Rythien Dawnhallow arrives via post.
I patched Aminas up today, and found out you’d been attacked by a pair of rogues. I have faith Aminas will recover eventually — though it might take some more work on our parts — but I was worried when I heard you were involved. Are you alright?
— Rythien
And the response -
Rythien,
Thank you very much for your letter inquiring as to my well-being. Regretfully, what you heard was accurate, both Aminas and I were indeed attacked. I am very pleased to hear that Aminas is alive, if not perhaps entirely well. Unfortunately, that is to be expected, as I have been treating his Lordship for some time now. I expect it shall be a good deal longer, now, but there is no rest for the wicked, I suppose. Thank you for tending to him, Rythien; I sincerely appreciate it.
I am well, myself, so please do not worry for me. I would very much like to see you again soon, at your convenience. Please do consider this an open invitation for tea at the lodge in the Valley of the Four Winds. Anyone in Halfhill market should be able to point you our way, Anshael, Ciro and I make a daily stop there and have become rather well-acquainted with several of the merchants.
Light Guide and Keep You,
H. Silverfire
Haestus stood back, surveying his work critically. The bath had been drawn, a hundred tiny flowers set to float (with a little bit of help from levitation, perhaps) and tiny, tiny candles lit in each one. He smiled slightly, then went through the door, into the bedroom and to that door, pausing at the top of the stairs.
“Ciro… come here a moment, would you?”
