"I don't do that sort of thing," Alex replied calmly, dipping a rag into a basic of disinfectant and rubbing it over Aleth's chest. "Please sit up; I need to do your back now."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Aleth weakly tried to push himself upright, but his arms were trembling violently. It'd been years since he'd been in such a sorry state. He'd vowed it'd never happen to him again, when he'd managed to run away from his father. Maybe he shouldn't have been quite so cruel to Tadaaki and Ky, if this is how they felt afterward.
His humiliation was complete. Too weak to even manage to sit up properly.
Ky didn't know what to do next. She wanted to go to Tarr's room -- to see if there was anything at all she could possibly do to help. But, Alexander wouldn't have come back to Aleth if there was anything left to be done to help Lyra.
She felt so shaken. She rolled up her sleeve and looked down at her wrist. They weren't bad cuts, but he was such a fucker to have clawed her at all. A thin wisp of blood stretched for several inches of her forearm from the fingernail he'd gotten properly dug into her. The others were just four small crescents of blood. Thankfully, none of them were actually properly just bleeding -- more just scratches that contained the little blood that dribbled out. May as well head back to the infirmary. There was nothing more she could do just wandering around in the hallway.
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"Here." Alex eased him upright. "Lord Tarr does like to break his little toys, doesn't he? It concerns me sometimes."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Aleth tensed, jaw clenching and turning towards him threateningly, before a fresh wave of pain hit him. He gasped for air, all of his muscles tensing at once, and closing his eyes as the world spun around him. He wobbled, brow furrowed. He wanted to glare, but couldn't open his eyes. "I'm no one's fucking toy."
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"If you like." Alexander began to rub the disinfectant lightly over Aleth's back. "Do you like cats?" he asked after a moment.
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
It felt like fire across his back all over again. That'd been an accident. His father had hit him, fully intending to throw him into the wall, but he'd tripped over a hammer and fell into the forge instead. His father had rushed to him and yanked him out in an instant, but it was too late. He hadn't, however, gotten him any medical care.
Ironic that this medical care was reminding him of it.
Aleth wanted to keep snarling at the man, but was getting the distinct feeling that he wasn't one who was going to take anyone's shit. And, it was best not to provoke the man in charge of taking care of your wounds. Did he like cats? What kind of a question was that? Aleth couldn't quite remember. It'd been so long since he'd let himself think about such a silly topic. "Why?"
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"I quite enjoy them." Alexander's hands were carefully moving up, then dabbing at his face. "They're warm, unless they're Iron, in which case you have to knit sweaters."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Aleth hesitated, not at all sure what to do with this conversation. Usually, he was always putting on a show. Either trying to get something out of someone or keeping them from getting something out of him. Tense. On edge. Constantly waiting for the worst.
But, the worst had already happened.
And now he was sitting here with gods knew how many broken bones, aching worse than he had since he was a boy, talking about cats with a physician who seemed like he couldn't give fewer fucks about who Aleth was or what he did.
"I guess I haven't really thought about it much," Aleth admitted. He'd always been too worried about keeping himself alive for it to even cross his mind to get pets -- aside from Ky and Tadaaki, of course.
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"You've got time," Alex replied. "Lord Loquitur isn't sending you out til tomorrow." He finished with the disinfectant. "I'm going to finish stitching up these back wounds and then we'll wrap you in gauze to splint those ribs."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Aleth sighed at the thought. Somehow, he hadn't thought the beating was going to be this bad. It probably wouldn't have been, if he hadn't been dumb enough to hit Tarr. But, still, the few moments of sheer shock and pain on Tarr's face before he came back to utterly decimate Aleth was rather gratifying, even though it didn't do much for him then.
He'd also assumed he'd be making the trip with his servants. They'd probably send him with less food, so he couldn't just steal some from Tadaaki and Ky. And, he wouldn't have them to set up the camp and tear it down. To navigate. Or, really, any of the things he'd grown accustomed to them handling for him.
"Does Loquitur frequently steal peoples' slaves?" he asked dryly.
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"I have only know Lord Loquitur for as long as his daughter has been Lady Tarr," Alex responded. "I expect he was concerned for their health."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
“Their health is fine,” Aleth snapped sourly. He still wasn’t quite sure what the secret picnic in the hall had been all about, but he hadn’t thought Ky was stupid enough to spill her guts to Loquitur. He’d kill her. Maybe I should kill her before I leave so she can’t tell him any more of my secrets. Loquitur seemed to be intent on meddling, but they were still his slaves, and if he wanted to kill them that was his decision. He could keep Tadaaki as leverage — he didn’t know anything anyways. But clearly he couldn’t trust Ky around Loquitur. “Where are they?”
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"Oh, I don't know right now. They could be anywhere." Aleth tied off one of the wounds. "Hold still, please. This one is tricky."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
Aleth narrowed his eyes but knew he couldn't turn around to properly glare at him so he didn't try. It seemed the physician was part of Loquitur's little scheme to strip him of his servants. "I see... well since you mentioned their health, I assume you've seen them." He inhaled sharply as pain stabbed through his back. "What is your professional opinion?"
Hopefully he could tease out information about what he and Loquitur might or might not have seen. The thought left him uneasy.
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
"They healed poorly." He threaded his needle and began again. "These new wounds will do better, thanks to me, but a poor job was made of the old scars. Yours are messy, too."
"The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words." --Ursula K. Le Guin
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