line up the dominoes / a light wind blows

[standvastig]

Where: Heliodor
When: A few years after Hendrik's promotion
Summary: A seemingly petty curse. A terrible incident on the battlefield.

[In the moments he is conscious enough to string awareness together, he sees blue. A blue sky. Light filtering through the trees. He tries to hold on to that sense, but it blurs under the pressure and pain of everything he feels. A wooden wagon, its wheels rolling over stones and holes in the road. Flashes of cold that bite into him when his skin doesn't feel hot and sweaty. Pain, pain, pain--

A particularly rocky patch of road jostles him against the burlap that provides little protection on the wagon, and merciful darkness takes him.

The field medics fight what the healers cannot, trying to keep General Hendrik's fever down while stemming the blood flow from the grievous wound that took the man's right arm. The giver of the wound -- a nightmarish dragon with teeth capable of piercing plate and chain both -- has the knights rushing back to Heliodor, touting more injured than previous campaigns.

The crowds that see the knights drag themselves back to the castle grounds cannot do much more than look on in shock.]

Comments

[leitstern]

[Jasper has progressed beyond the anger of the last twelve hours; his raging emotions cooled by cold indifference that colours his mood. Acrimony and animosity flow beneath the surface like a current, invisible as he awakens and feels them carrying him into a new day.

The childish pecularity scattered one side of his desk is forgotten, lost admist work focused on logistics and economics that piles higher come the afternoon. Hendrik's mission is forgotten - the abandoned hope of wishing his partner well - till it crashes like a wooden wagon into his life. One of his partner's guardsmen sprints towards his side of the castle with desperation in his voice. He hears the bawling before the damned man has rapped his door.

Seconds tick by. Barely enough to connect the dots in his mind as he steps outside and locks his quarters. His body moves towards the direction of his companion with concern his mind cannot feel or find. The physician he comes across leaves the room he needs to enter. He pulls the man aside and voices an order.]

Inform me when he awakes.

[If he awakes. That is the dark desire he cannot name. He takes his work into the closest library and hangs on the edge of his seat.]

[standvastig]

[The physicians and castle healers pick up where field medics left off, guiding the worst injured into the infirmary and tending to the others in the small castle chapel across the corridor. Calls for hot water and clean bandages echo from one end of the infirmary to the other, all while the fevered try clawing their way back to consciousness.

Hendrik does not awaken until long after the sun has fled from the sky, body burning and mind blurred even as he rasps for breath. Most of the blood has been mopped away, but he is only as clean as was necessary to wash and disinfect his wounds.

The physician on duty debates sending a messenger to fetch Jasper, considering the time of day -- but is reminded by a weary healer who has been there the entire day that the talented, if young, knight had given an order.

And so a nervous messenger is sent to the libraries to find the man.]

[leitstern]

[The messenger finds him several hours after the guardsman: his labours interrupted when he turns his head and cranes his neck. Words entice him out of his seat - and he closes his folder of papers and carries them under his arm. Footsteps echo on stone before muffling amongst the palatial rugs lining the hall.

He enters the infirmary without fanfare and waves for privacy. The healer retreats to a respectful distance - hardly fazed by this young knight with a proud reputation. Her presence keeps his mind sharp as he turns towards the nursing bed and narrows his eyes.]

Hendrik. I told you to come back in one piece.

[standvastig]

[The stern words manage to penetrate the haze settled over Hendrik's brain, and he wearily opens his eyes. The man lauded for his powerful physique and heroic stature is terribly pale, practically blending into the bedsheets.

Trying to move results in a grimace of pain, but also a little more focus in the eyes.]

...Jasper?

[leitstern]

[Jasper sits upon the neighbouring chair with grace; his arm resting across the backrest before his hands fold together in his lap. He observes his friend - if he dares use the term - with narrow eyes.]

Who else would insist on visiting you?

[He would rather ask how the man feels but that is a moot point.]

[standvastig]

[The rather blank look on Hendrik's face twitches when he registers the question, and he sinks back against his pillow. Who else would insist indeed?]

Are ... all of the injured accounted for?

[Even before he was injured, the numbers had been mounting and a retreat was all but certain.]

The dragon-- It got away.

[leitstern]

The welfare of your men is hardly my responsibility. That enquiry is best aimed towards the healer.

[The look on his face turns sour as he gazes out the nearby window. His bedside manners are hardly existant, ever demanding is he for perfection and soldiers who follow orders. Trust this man to fail at both and make him smile and worry all at once.]

As for your dragon, worry not. It cannot chomp upon you here.

Next Afternoon

[leitstern]

[The next morning is crammed with sessions and assignations. Questions about movements. Enquiries about spheres of conflict. Economic enquiries. Liasons with adjutants. His Majesty. His staff and finally he finds time in the afternoon for his old friend. He arrives later, towards the evening and dinner, carrying a heavy book.

Time has passed enough for Hendrik to have returned to his quarters. He knows little of how it feels to be injured but understands the feelings of loneliness and isolation. Those despairing feelings of being a failure; second best at everything when one had been the best at everything.

He waits a second before entering. Not bothering to rap the door.]

Hendrik.

[standvastig]

[Hendrik spends a good amount of the day resting; sleep did not come easy the night before, and he is only provided a simple porridge in the morning before he is put to sleep for more extensive work on what remains of his arm. Stitches are reworked, debris is more thoroughly cleaned away, and dying skin is removed before healers work their soothing spells once again. He spends the aftermath in something of a daze until he is guided back to his room to rest.

A nurse helps him wash and dress, tying up the loose right sleeve so it avoid tangling into anything while he lies down. She gives him medicine and broth, keeping him off solids until his fever is under control. She recommends that he try to stand up every few hours, even if he can't manage the strength to shuffle around his room.

He doesn't receive visitors other than the nurse. So, when there is a voice at the door, he struggles out of bed and slowly walks over, slippered and uncharacteristically garbed in long nightwear. He pulls the door open and leans against it to accept Jasper into the room.]

[leitstern]

Good to see you up and about.

[Jasper strides into the room with confidence. The door is left for his companion to not offend his sensibilities. That wicked wound catches his eye - how could it not? - but he conscientiously turns his gaze towards a pair of green eyes. Tired, worn. Struggling to open though that is hardly a wonder. His childhood duty becomes a driving force but now out of his own need to be kind.

He maneuvers his book and offers it out. Not to hold but to see.]

I brought you a bedtime story. Interested?

[standvastig]

[Hendrik closes the door behind Jasper and shuffles over to sit down -- not behind his desk, but at one of the chairs towards the center of the room. The sight of the book is met with a blank look that slowly shifts into indifference.]

A little old for bedtime stories, are we not?

[leitstern]

[The comment wrinkles his nose but his lips mercifully remain pleasant. He strolls over to the window and flicks through the pages.]

If we are, I find it unfortunate.

[Those pages slam shut and he turns around. The book is gently thrown onto the bed.]

Really, Hendrik. You never could tell when I was pulling your leg.

[standvastig]

[Hendrik's eyes follow the book as it lands on the bed, not returning to Jasper as he tries to make sense of the gesture.]

Ah... Thank you for the reading material.

[He doesn't have much he can do besides try to read, he supposes. Walking around his room is already proving tiring.]

You are finished for the day? You have had dinner?

Weeks Later

[leitstern]

[Hours pass and Jasper accepts his new duties without complaint. Carnelian entrusts him with the remains of Hendrik's regiment and he endures the responsibility without protest. Time flies by. Days drag on. He chairs meetings on defense; sets the agenda on internal affairs; attends social functions at court and keeps his opinion on his friend private.

Two weeks pass. The news Hendrik is starting to eat solid food is pleasing to his ear. The healers inform him the fever has broken and the physician - a older gentleman they have known since childhood - explains the process of physical therapy. Hendrik is difficult to visit between his attendance by healers and his own lack of time. It takes a third week for him to arrive late at night - when the castle is deserted save for patrolling guards. The corridors are silent and empty and he guides their way with a burning candle.

Impatience drives him to lift the candle and squint against the light, trying to read Hendrik's expression. The man looks relieved by the lack of life. It prompts him to scowl. The door to his own quarters is only a short distance away and he wishes them to arrive in good time.]

Are you dawdling?

[standvastig]

It is pleasant to see you too, Jasper.

[Hendrik's tone is dry as he shakes his head at the question, turning his attention to his quarters. While the room has not changed terribly since the incident, the large desk at which Hendrik did his infrequent paperwork has been cleared of papers and quills, instead stacked with bandages, poultices, and more than one pitcher of water.

He wears a loose shirt where he would once wear more fitted coats and tops, but otherwise appears in similar clothes as before -- fitted trousers and boots that had seen their share of trails and travel. Anything resembling his former dourness appears more drawn than before, matching a certain tiredness in his eyes.]

Is there something you wished to do?

[leitstern]

Invite you over for a nightcap?

[His attention takes in Hendrik's manner of dress; from his baggy tailored shirt to fitted trousers paired with worn and comfortable boots. It lifts his morale to see his friend in a well dressed state. To be healty instead of lying on death's door.

He rolls one shoulder in consideration.]

We can always rummage amongst the kitchens for a bite to eat.

[standvastig]

[Hendrik's lips press together at the offer.]

I will have to decline a drink. I will not be drinking any wine or spirits for awhile longer.

[And the idea of drinking has just been very unappealing since the battle.]

...However, I would not reject finding something to eat.

[leitstern]

[Jasper wrinkles his nose. Imagining life without fine wine makes him look down and away. One foot already stepping away before his body follows.]

I believe it cannot hurt. Then shall be off? Best arrive before His Majesty sinks his claws into the leftovers, I dare say.

[standvastig]

[Assent comes in the form of silence; as Jasper walks away, Hendrik slides out of his room and shuts the door behind him. Rather than stride to catch up with the slightly-older man, Hendrik trails behind, following his form outlined by the candlelight.]

Seven Weeks Post-Incident

[standvastig]

[Change comes slowly in the following weeks. With the most dramatic time of healing behind him, Hendrik has to rely on what physical therapy and his own body's healing allow. He doesn't talk about the phantom sensations that plague him as the days wear on, reminding him of the shock of teeth cracking through plate and chain and flesh and bone. He keeps his schedule mostly to nighttime activity, his therapy in the late afternoons followed by occasional suppers with the royal family.

Showing his face so they do not worry. It is the least he can do for them.

The inevitable relearning sessions comes to pass, to varying degrees of success. He can dress himself reasonably well, though figuring out belts comes with no small amount of frustration. Tying knots comes with similar difficulties, and he forgoes them for several weeks until his dexterity improves.

A bout of especially tangible frustration and upset while relearning how to shave and upkeep his facial hair has him shaving all of it off. The incident lands him in a meeting with Carnelian that is equal parts uncomfortable and embarrassing, even as the King tells him there is no shame in being discouraged.

He knows the King means well. He knows.

He feels like a failure anyway. For doing that to himself. For losing patience. For making the King worry.

As the weeks pass, he spends more time outside, finding peace in the animals kept close to the castle and the steeds in the stables. He visits Obsidian almost daily, feeding him what he takes from the kitchens and simply basking in his silent company.]

[leitstern]

[Hendrik is increasingly hard to pin down as the weeks drag on. One week he is more unkempt, the second sees him silent, three more and he worries about speaking over support, the last fortnight he spots a disconcerting change.

That beard. Shaved to the bone. He barely notices anything else, least of all the time his friend wiles away out in the stables. Hendrik might as well be at the Emerald Coast.

He stops asking for his location come the fourth week. Ventures over on the seventh and watches his companion soothe a loyal beast. Who comforts who, honestly?

His voice comes from behind.]

How is the old boy?

[standvastig]

[The familiar voice prompts Hendrik to lift his head, though he doesn't turn right away. Jasper. It has been awhile since he has seen his old friend -- understandable, considering the various changes going on.

He bites back a sigh, readying an answer as he turns to look at him.]

Gaining weight. I fear I have been feeding him too many treats.

[Obsidian restlessly shakes his head, moving away from Hendrik and further into his stable to drink water.]

Hello, Jasper.

[leitstern]

[The smile darkening his face serves as warning for mischief. He turns his head towards his friend's companion and shakes his head in unison, moving closer to his own friend and further into the stable.]

I was speaking to Obsidian.

[He lets the comment settle and dusts imaginary dirt and hay off his armour: a sign he is visiting straight after word. That is how much this man means.]

You do spoil him rotten.

[standvastig]

[The joke fails to land; Hendrik stares at Jasper without a smile, turning his attention to putting away some of the things he had taken out, such as extra vegetables and a brush.]

Perhaps I do. He deserves the best.

[leitstern]

[This time the smile drains from his face. It disappears without words and he obscures his worry by busying himself. Twirling his hair around his index finger and checking his gauntlets for dirt.]

You must be thinking of him a great deal.