Arcaea/Dining Hall/PTSD and You
She was sitting in her tent, writing a letter to her younger cousin Desi, scolding her for getting captured, but praising her for her recent release. A bail of twelve gold. She shook her head as she wrote. That wasn't a very high bail, and yet it was all the gold Desi had. 76 gold, to 31, to 17, to 12 gold. She sighed, and as she was giving the letter to her messenger, she heard the commotion outside her tent by the front of the encampment. She hurried out of the tent to find a man collapsed on the ground, surrounded by all her soldiers but her 3 wounded men.
She hurried up to them and pushed them away, saying, "Move! Give him space!" She looked around for a moment thinking. "Find Edith and bring her here." She turned the man over gently and sighed. He was badly beaten up, and his eye, well he was missing one. It looks like an old wound though, and she disregarded it. Soon Edith had arrived, a few other 'nurses' in tow. Edith had them set a stretcher down by the man, and they carefully set him on it. Esme followed them to the tent and helped to wait on the man and clean his wounds. She stayed with him almost constantly, waiting for him to wake up.
Esme Lisieux (Dame of Remton)
She saw the man wake up and sit up in bed. She saw the starched white bandage around his chest - and the bright red blood that was still staining it. She mostly hid the worry from her face as she approached him and sat on the edge of his bed. He seemed to be recovering alright, but she had instructed her healers to keep a close eye on him until he was fully recovered.
"My Lord? How are you feeling?" She reached forward to feel his forehead, and found him still hotter than normal. "You have been out for two days. My healers have been busy, though, and I think you should be all better soon."
She patted his leg gently, in a comforting manner. Do not underestimate Esme's motherly compassion. That thought entered her mind and her corners of her mouth turned up. Motherly compassion! Well there's also.... She smothered the thought; It was not appropriate for this situation. She started slightly as she remembered this man had no idea who she was. "I'm sorry Sir, I am Lady Esme Lisieux, a Knight of Remton." She gave him a comforting and encouraging smile.
Esme Lisieux (Dame of Remton)
Richter was stirred from his reprieve by Lady Esme appearing at his side. She began to say something, but Richter only partially paid attention to her, instead using their proximity to take his first good look at her. Long black hair, hazel eyes, if Richter was any other man he would have gone so far as to say she was pretty, but he had been bled dry of his concerns for such things.
He took a quick moment to take stock of himself as she finished speaking, taking into account the facts he had garnered from the moments he was paying attention to her.
“Richter Massey...,” he introduced himself as an afterthought
‘Still a bit sore...,’ he thought as he stretched his arms out and shoulder’s out, testing the range of his moment,’But the chest wound seems to have stopped bleeding at least, but still...’
“...it’s a wonder I’m still alive after all that...,” he said unintentionally a loud, his dazed mind still having trouble processing thought. He flinched slightly as a throbbing pain shot up his left temple; his hand moved itself in an attempt to rub it away.
His single eye closed as he continued to concentrate on expelling the pain from his head, when he noticed something...
His eye patch was gone, leaving nothing but naked scar tissue where his left eye should have been. Briefly he felt about his person in a vague attempt to find it, before turning to address Lady Esme, she said her name was, in hopes that she had seen it.
“I had a patch for...” said Richter, before he paused and point to the former resting place of his left eye, “...do you know where it might be?”
Richter Massey (Knight of Remton)
he stared at him as he came to his senses, just a bit more. She took in his name, storing it in the back of her mind. He seemed to be unconcerned of his whereabouts, or the fact there was a woman sitting a bit close to him on his bed. Well, not like a man would mind that. He wasn't particularly ugly - not like she was looking at him like that. Truly, she was concerned about his health. She was not one hundred percent sure he was going to make it.
'...it's a wonder I'm still alive after all that...'
She hoped the worry didn't show on her face - it would not become her to have worry lines at such a young age! He mentioned his patch. She had not paid much attention to the fact he was missing an eye up until now. Yes she'd briefly noticed, but such wounds were not unheard of, and she was busy worrying about the other wounds that might prove more fatal.
"No, I'm afraid we don't have one that you were originally wearing. But we happen to have extras - one of my men is missing an eye as well." She had a feeling that he was going to want or need one, and she pulled a very non-descript patch out of a satchel she held in her hand. She handed it to him carefully.
She hesitated, "Are you feeling alright Lord Richter?"
Esme Lisieux (Dame of Remton)
