[ The head maid returns with the desired bowl of warm water and Phya instructs her to set it down beside the bed. Once the head maid has taken her leave, Phya removes her heavy coat. Her sleeves are rolled up. A towel is fetched from the joined bathroom, soaked, rung out and then placed on Aymeric's side. She gently cleans the wound while avoiding eye contact. He certainly would not wish to look at her. ]
Ser, I ... you need to uncurl for me. Just enough so that I might apply the medicine and bandages proper. You can lay however you wish afterwards.
[ She places the bloodied and slightly puss covered towl to the bowl. Attention is turned towards the potions and bandages with her. She applies the medication to the bandages instead of directly to his wounds. Namely due to discomfort, but also in the hopes he realizes she does not wish to harm him or cause him any more pain than what he has experienced until this moment.
The bandages are placed and carefully attached on locations that would not agitate wounds. Scars, perhaps, but there is little she can do when he has so many. Not without directly interacting with his aether. He has yet to give permission or pass for her to do such things. She has only done what she has at the insistence of the Dragoon that watches over the pair.
Her hands still before pulling away from the Lord Commander. They rest at her sides. Then, she looks to Estinien. ]
I can leave the basket here with the staff. I... I don't wish to overstay my place or time. [ Her gaze falls. ] There is a mild pain sedative as well should he find he is in need. The wound will heal in time this way, depending on my lord's metabolism. He should be well enough in a few days to return to duties as long as the bandage is changed and medication applied. Rest as well.
[ Estinien turns his gaze back to Aymeric. ] Does the proposal meet your approval?
[ Phya glances once more to Aymeric's face. She knows without a doubt he is the one she had been waiting to arrive in her town. He, however, has a grander calling than her now. The Lord Commander of the Temple Knights of Ishgard. He is the one who commands the military on behalf of the Archbishop. He would never have the time and certainly not the care to find her amongst everything that had been laid to waste in the Calamity.
Perhaps I truly should find a way to unbind us... free him from the disappointment I certainly am. The pain I have caused.
The thought springs from deep inside. Not an echo, but internal thoughts that feel ancient and yet new at the same time. The same inner voice that springs ways to refer to him. Old names of endearment. Names she has no permission or right to say any longer. ]
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Ser, I ... you need to uncurl for me. Just enough so that I might apply the medicine and bandages proper. You can lay however you wish afterwards.
[ She places the bloodied and slightly puss covered towl to the bowl. Attention is turned towards the potions and bandages with her. She applies the medication to the bandages instead of directly to his wounds. Namely due to discomfort, but also in the hopes he realizes she does not wish to harm him or cause him any more pain than what he has experienced until this moment.
The bandages are placed and carefully attached on locations that would not agitate wounds. Scars, perhaps, but there is little she can do when he has so many. Not without directly interacting with his aether. He has yet to give permission or pass for her to do such things. She has only done what she has at the insistence of the Dragoon that watches over the pair.
Her hands still before pulling away from the Lord Commander. They rest at her sides. Then, she looks to Estinien. ]
I can leave the basket here with the staff. I... I don't wish to overstay my place or time. [ Her gaze falls. ] There is a mild pain sedative as well should he find he is in need. The wound will heal in time this way, depending on my lord's metabolism. He should be well enough in a few days to return to duties as long as the bandage is changed and medication applied. Rest as well.
[ Estinien turns his gaze back to Aymeric. ] Does the proposal meet your approval?
[ Phya glances once more to Aymeric's face. She knows without a doubt he is the one she had been waiting to arrive in her town. He, however, has a grander calling than her now. The Lord Commander of the Temple Knights of Ishgard. He is the one who commands the military on behalf of the Archbishop. He would never have the time and certainly not the care to find her amongst everything that had been laid to waste in the Calamity.
Perhaps I truly should find a way to unbind us... free him from the disappointment I certainly am. The pain I have caused.
The thought springs from deep inside. Not an echo, but internal thoughts that feel ancient and yet new at the same time. The same inner voice that springs ways to refer to him. Old names of endearment. Names she has no permission or right to say any longer. ]