It had been about a week into his recovery that Rilien and Cyrus had administered the modified Reaver tonic to Leon. Cyrus hadn't felt especially comfortable doing so that soon, given the absolute mess the Commander had made of his own body during the fight with the dragon. But, as the tranquil had pointed out, allowing him to recover from that was a consideration that had to be balanced with the increasing risk that the new tonic would prove too demanding on his weakening body if his was left to decline much longer. Or that he'd simply... die.
Cyrus had never had to think about those kinds of things before. Not with respect to a friend. He found it disconcerting. Fortunately, Rilien had no such compunctions, and so they'd administered the dose three days prior. The immediate reaction had been... not much. Pain, as far as Cyrus could tell. But the fact that it wasn't immediately fatal was promising. Obviously.
Mounting the steps to the infirmary, Cyrus pushed open the door, shedding his lighter spring cloak and hooking it over one of the open spots near the entrance. He left his boots on, though, sliding past the staff at work until he came upon the door to Leon's room. Commander's privilege, to be granted a space to recover that was at least mostly private. Probably a necessity anyway.
Cyrus knocked twice as a courtesy, but when no one immediately told him to wait, he simply entered instead, a greeting halfway to his tongue when he spotted Asala by the Commander's bedside. Despite himself, that brought him up a little short, forcing him to reorient his demeanor to something a bit more... reserved. Funny: he hadn't even thought of himself as especially relaxed around Leon, but it was clearly so.
“Commander." He greeted his friend with a small nod, then moved his eyes to the healer. “Asala. How's he doing?"
"He is healing, physically at least," Asala answered. She passed her hand, enveloped with a pink magic, over one of his extremities for the last time, as she let the magic fade. "He is stable, and his body is stitching itself back together quite well. I've been balancing magical and his natural healing so as not to put any undue stress on his body," she said, though she still wore a tight frown. "Other than that," she glanced back at Cyrus, "I'm afraid I cannot say."
"I've felt better," Leon added, looking almost amused at being discussed as though he were not present. "But... I've felt worse. And since I never expected that to be true again, I'd say there's some reason for optimism."
Asala simply smiled and offered a comforting, though gentle pat on his leg.
That was... all quite good news, especially the last part. Cyrus felt himself relax, just a little. “Good." Inexpert at hiding his emotions, he could not keep the relief from seeping into his tone. Plenty of reasons for relief, even if the prognosis was still in some ways quite uncertain. “I'd thought if you were feeling up to it, we might head down to the Herald's Rest for something to eat. I'm sure it would reassure some of the others to see you up and about."
He let the question hang implied. If Leon still wasn't mobile enough, they'd have to find something else to do, but that would be no burden on Cyrus.
Leon considered that for a moment, then smiled a little. "Well if you're offering to take a break from hermitage for my sake, I almost can't say no. I think I'd be capable of it, if my healer gives her permission." He glanced at Asala. Unlike some of the others, Leon was actually the kind of patient that listened to the advice of the people treating him. At least usually.
"If you feel that you are up to, then I will not be the one to stop you," she acquiesced with a nod. "The usual still applies however. Take it slow and try not to overexert yourself. And if you feel that something is off, please let me know immediately," she offered.
"Of course." Leon returned the offer with one of his mild smiles, dipping his chin in a nod. "As always, thank you for your help, Miss Asala. We'd be rather lost without it." With a slight sigh, he shifted his attention back to Cyrus. "Could you hand me my cane? I should be able to walk under my own power if I have it."
“Not a problem." It didn't take long for Cyrus to locate the implement, and he handed it off to Leon, remaining where he was in case the Commander needed additional assistance reaching his feet. Even as they made to exit the room, he took care to walk at Leon's side, rather than slightly in front or behind, just in case of any mishaps.
But his concern proved to be unfounded, as the cane really was all he needed to make it down the stairs and then across the bailey. Progress was slow more due to the number of people who stopped to congratulate Leon on his recovery than anything. And Cyrus supposed this was warranted: though he certainly didn't look the picture of health yet, the fact that he was alive at all was something to celebrate. For the Inquisition as an organization... and also for his friends personally. One former Magister's apprentice included.
It struck him that he wanted to express this, but the words that were so quick to form thoughts were slow and heavy to his tongue. He ended up silent until they'd just about reached the tavern, at which point he finally managed to scrape together something to say. “I'm... well, it's sort of stupid to say I'm glad you seem to be doing better, isn't it?" How other people expressed the same sentiments so easily and naturally was beyond him.
Cyrus bit his tongue and pulled open the door to the tavern.
"I don't think so," Leon replied, warmth in his tone. "I can see why you'd think so. It's a bit obvious, as far as declarations go. But sometimes telling people obvious things achieves more than just making the declaration." He half-smiled, passing by Cyrus to enter the Herald's Rest. He leaned heavily on his cane, but even his speed in motion was much improved over a fortnight ago.
He didn't finish the thought until they'd settled down at a corner table, and the cane found itself against the back wall. "I'm happy to be reminded that you cared, even if I'd never forgotten. Here's something else that's obvious: I wouldn't be here if not for you, and you have my deepest gratitude." For all the lightness of the tone he used to speak, Leon's expression conveyed the utmost seriousness, particularly where he held eye contact with Cyrus.
Well. That was... the demonstration had cemented the principle, to be sure. Cyrus almost felt embarrassed by the admission, a slightly-uneasy feeling settling in his chest. The instinct to downplay it was there, to dismiss his usefulness as a matter of luck or little import or something, but it just seemed like the wrong thing to do with such genuine thanks offered. So he tried for the same. Obvious but true.
“You're welcome."
Leon's soft huff, almost a chuckle, seemed to confirm that it was the right answer, so to speak, and they both settled in a little easier, giving their orders to the waitress when she came by and nursing their drinks in the meantime. Leon ordered water rather than alcohol, probably in deference to his condition and Asala's health advice regarding overexertion.
It wasn't long, though, before they once again had company. Corvin and Hissrad had entered the tavern but a moment before, and diverted from their course to greet the commander. The young elf clapped Leon's shoulder, albeit carefully, sparing a lopsided grin for Cyrus as well. "Good to see you up and about, Leon. You had us all on-edge there for a while, eh?"
"I didn't intend it, I swear," Leon replied, a bit of dry humor entering his tone. "I'll do my best not to repeat the performance."
Corvin's grin stretched a little wider, and he nodded once. "Sounds like a good plan to me." He nodded to Hissrad, and they returned to their business.
"You're already starting to look better Commander," Aurora noted. A glance over revealed both her and Donnelly, her arm linked with his. Apparently they had already been in the Tavern when Leon and Cyrus entered, if the seemingly occupied table behind them was theirs. Corvin and Hissrad were probably what drew their attention the the pair.
"Congratulations," Donnelly added. "It's good to have you back. Make sure he doesn't overdo it, okay Cyrus?"
It was all very... congenial. Cyrus nodded, a bit uncomfortably, but then struck upon something to say and relaxed. “Of course. I'll make sure he doesn't go too wild celebrating his returned health." Obviously not actually a risk with Leon, but it seemed fine to joke about, anyway.
Donnelly laughed at that. "Good to hear. Let us know when we need to adjust the drill schedules so you can lead them again, Commander."
"That's a while off," Leon replied, just a touch of melancholy in the words. "But thank you. I will."
At that point, their food arrived, and the others politely took their leave so Leon and Cyrus could eat. Leon did so with enthusiasm, though it would take a lot more to make him lose his oddly-delicate table manners.
That said, not everyone was so polite as Aurora and Donnelly were.
No sooner had the tavern door opened again than a familiar voice was calling their names. “Leon! Cy! Just who I was looking for." Khari, naturally, plunked herself in the chair next to Cyrus without so much as by-your-leave. He'd mostly learned to appreciate her directness, even if it did still occasionally surprise him. Too many years with people who wouldn't have dared, especially if they looked like her.
Reaching into a pocket, she withdrew a pair of objects and paid them down on the table with something of a dramatic flourish. When she lifted her hand away, they proved to be what looked like necklaces—both on thin silverite chains. Of greatest interest, however, was the fact that the pendants were reddish and shiny in a way that seemed vaguely familiar.
“Busted up one of Rubis's talons. Too big for anyone to wear the whole thing, so I figured we could share. Since we did it together, and all." She hooked her thumb around a similar chain at her own neck, lifting another piece of talon out from under her shirt. “No forgetting it now, huh? Already gave Rom and Sev theirs."
Leon had stopped eating as soon as she appeared, and now stared at the necklaces on the table with a faintly gobsmacked look on his face. Clearly, Cyrus wasn't the only one who didn't always know what to say. glancing once at Khari, then back down to the crafted mementos, he reached forward, picking up the nearer one and running his thumb along the surface of it, where she'd smoothed down the jagged edges of whatever break she'd engineered in the claw.
A fond smile eased onto his face, and he expelled a breath from his nose that was almost a laugh. "Which part are we meant to be not forgetting? I do recall an awful lot of injuries and a fair amount of trepidation more than anything else. Nearly being hors d'oeuvre for a dragon's evening meal?"
Cyrus smothered a laugh. Khari didn't bother.
“Well, the 'nearly' bit's pretty important, but I was thinking more along the lines of how great we were. Not just any five-person team can go toe-to-to with a dragon and beat her, you know. That's one for Inquisition legend. And I figure they double as proof, in case anyone tries to call us liars." She grinned, eyes narrowing with the force of it.
Cyrus picked up his own, sliding it over his head without hesitation. Beneath his shirt, it clinked softly against Asvhalla's token. This one, though, he had to say he preferred. Reminder of heavy injuries or not, it was also one he definitely felt he'd earned.
Leon evidently wasn't interested in putting up any sort of fight, either, because he did much the same, the red sliver coming to rest right over his heart. "I suppose I can get behind that." He touched the talon and glanced back at her.
"Thank you, Khari. For everything."
“You're welcome, but thanks are also always accepted in drinks. Just so you're aware."
Cyrus had never had to think about those kinds of things before. Not with respect to a friend. He found it disconcerting. Fortunately, Rilien had no such compunctions, and so they'd administered the dose three days prior. The immediate reaction had been... not much. Pain, as far as Cyrus could tell. But the fact that it wasn't immediately fatal was promising. Obviously.
Mounting the steps to the infirmary, Cyrus pushed open the door, shedding his lighter spring cloak and hooking it over one of the open spots near the entrance. He left his boots on, though, sliding past the staff at work until he came upon the door to Leon's room. Commander's privilege, to be granted a space to recover that was at least mostly private. Probably a necessity anyway.
Cyrus knocked twice as a courtesy, but when no one immediately told him to wait, he simply entered instead, a greeting halfway to his tongue when he spotted Asala by the Commander's bedside. Despite himself, that brought him up a little short, forcing him to reorient his demeanor to something a bit more... reserved. Funny: he hadn't even thought of himself as especially relaxed around Leon, but it was clearly so.
“Commander." He greeted his friend with a small nod, then moved his eyes to the healer. “Asala. How's he doing?"
"He is healing, physically at least," Asala answered. She passed her hand, enveloped with a pink magic, over one of his extremities for the last time, as she let the magic fade. "He is stable, and his body is stitching itself back together quite well. I've been balancing magical and his natural healing so as not to put any undue stress on his body," she said, though she still wore a tight frown. "Other than that," she glanced back at Cyrus, "I'm afraid I cannot say."
"I've felt better," Leon added, looking almost amused at being discussed as though he were not present. "But... I've felt worse. And since I never expected that to be true again, I'd say there's some reason for optimism."
Asala simply smiled and offered a comforting, though gentle pat on his leg.
That was... all quite good news, especially the last part. Cyrus felt himself relax, just a little. “Good." Inexpert at hiding his emotions, he could not keep the relief from seeping into his tone. Plenty of reasons for relief, even if the prognosis was still in some ways quite uncertain. “I'd thought if you were feeling up to it, we might head down to the Herald's Rest for something to eat. I'm sure it would reassure some of the others to see you up and about."
He let the question hang implied. If Leon still wasn't mobile enough, they'd have to find something else to do, but that would be no burden on Cyrus.
Leon considered that for a moment, then smiled a little. "Well if you're offering to take a break from hermitage for my sake, I almost can't say no. I think I'd be capable of it, if my healer gives her permission." He glanced at Asala. Unlike some of the others, Leon was actually the kind of patient that listened to the advice of the people treating him. At least usually.
"If you feel that you are up to, then I will not be the one to stop you," she acquiesced with a nod. "The usual still applies however. Take it slow and try not to overexert yourself. And if you feel that something is off, please let me know immediately," she offered.
"Of course." Leon returned the offer with one of his mild smiles, dipping his chin in a nod. "As always, thank you for your help, Miss Asala. We'd be rather lost without it." With a slight sigh, he shifted his attention back to Cyrus. "Could you hand me my cane? I should be able to walk under my own power if I have it."
“Not a problem." It didn't take long for Cyrus to locate the implement, and he handed it off to Leon, remaining where he was in case the Commander needed additional assistance reaching his feet. Even as they made to exit the room, he took care to walk at Leon's side, rather than slightly in front or behind, just in case of any mishaps.
But his concern proved to be unfounded, as the cane really was all he needed to make it down the stairs and then across the bailey. Progress was slow more due to the number of people who stopped to congratulate Leon on his recovery than anything. And Cyrus supposed this was warranted: though he certainly didn't look the picture of health yet, the fact that he was alive at all was something to celebrate. For the Inquisition as an organization... and also for his friends personally. One former Magister's apprentice included.
It struck him that he wanted to express this, but the words that were so quick to form thoughts were slow and heavy to his tongue. He ended up silent until they'd just about reached the tavern, at which point he finally managed to scrape together something to say. “I'm... well, it's sort of stupid to say I'm glad you seem to be doing better, isn't it?" How other people expressed the same sentiments so easily and naturally was beyond him.
Cyrus bit his tongue and pulled open the door to the tavern.
"I don't think so," Leon replied, warmth in his tone. "I can see why you'd think so. It's a bit obvious, as far as declarations go. But sometimes telling people obvious things achieves more than just making the declaration." He half-smiled, passing by Cyrus to enter the Herald's Rest. He leaned heavily on his cane, but even his speed in motion was much improved over a fortnight ago.
He didn't finish the thought until they'd settled down at a corner table, and the cane found itself against the back wall. "I'm happy to be reminded that you cared, even if I'd never forgotten. Here's something else that's obvious: I wouldn't be here if not for you, and you have my deepest gratitude." For all the lightness of the tone he used to speak, Leon's expression conveyed the utmost seriousness, particularly where he held eye contact with Cyrus.
Well. That was... the demonstration had cemented the principle, to be sure. Cyrus almost felt embarrassed by the admission, a slightly-uneasy feeling settling in his chest. The instinct to downplay it was there, to dismiss his usefulness as a matter of luck or little import or something, but it just seemed like the wrong thing to do with such genuine thanks offered. So he tried for the same. Obvious but true.
“You're welcome."
Leon's soft huff, almost a chuckle, seemed to confirm that it was the right answer, so to speak, and they both settled in a little easier, giving their orders to the waitress when she came by and nursing their drinks in the meantime. Leon ordered water rather than alcohol, probably in deference to his condition and Asala's health advice regarding overexertion.
It wasn't long, though, before they once again had company. Corvin and Hissrad had entered the tavern but a moment before, and diverted from their course to greet the commander. The young elf clapped Leon's shoulder, albeit carefully, sparing a lopsided grin for Cyrus as well. "Good to see you up and about, Leon. You had us all on-edge there for a while, eh?"
"I didn't intend it, I swear," Leon replied, a bit of dry humor entering his tone. "I'll do my best not to repeat the performance."
Corvin's grin stretched a little wider, and he nodded once. "Sounds like a good plan to me." He nodded to Hissrad, and they returned to their business.
"You're already starting to look better Commander," Aurora noted. A glance over revealed both her and Donnelly, her arm linked with his. Apparently they had already been in the Tavern when Leon and Cyrus entered, if the seemingly occupied table behind them was theirs. Corvin and Hissrad were probably what drew their attention the the pair.
"Congratulations," Donnelly added. "It's good to have you back. Make sure he doesn't overdo it, okay Cyrus?"
It was all very... congenial. Cyrus nodded, a bit uncomfortably, but then struck upon something to say and relaxed. “Of course. I'll make sure he doesn't go too wild celebrating his returned health." Obviously not actually a risk with Leon, but it seemed fine to joke about, anyway.
Donnelly laughed at that. "Good to hear. Let us know when we need to adjust the drill schedules so you can lead them again, Commander."
"That's a while off," Leon replied, just a touch of melancholy in the words. "But thank you. I will."
At that point, their food arrived, and the others politely took their leave so Leon and Cyrus could eat. Leon did so with enthusiasm, though it would take a lot more to make him lose his oddly-delicate table manners.
That said, not everyone was so polite as Aurora and Donnelly were.
No sooner had the tavern door opened again than a familiar voice was calling their names. “Leon! Cy! Just who I was looking for." Khari, naturally, plunked herself in the chair next to Cyrus without so much as by-your-leave. He'd mostly learned to appreciate her directness, even if it did still occasionally surprise him. Too many years with people who wouldn't have dared, especially if they looked like her.
Reaching into a pocket, she withdrew a pair of objects and paid them down on the table with something of a dramatic flourish. When she lifted her hand away, they proved to be what looked like necklaces—both on thin silverite chains. Of greatest interest, however, was the fact that the pendants were reddish and shiny in a way that seemed vaguely familiar.
“Busted up one of Rubis's talons. Too big for anyone to wear the whole thing, so I figured we could share. Since we did it together, and all." She hooked her thumb around a similar chain at her own neck, lifting another piece of talon out from under her shirt. “No forgetting it now, huh? Already gave Rom and Sev theirs."
Leon had stopped eating as soon as she appeared, and now stared at the necklaces on the table with a faintly gobsmacked look on his face. Clearly, Cyrus wasn't the only one who didn't always know what to say. glancing once at Khari, then back down to the crafted mementos, he reached forward, picking up the nearer one and running his thumb along the surface of it, where she'd smoothed down the jagged edges of whatever break she'd engineered in the claw.
A fond smile eased onto his face, and he expelled a breath from his nose that was almost a laugh. "Which part are we meant to be not forgetting? I do recall an awful lot of injuries and a fair amount of trepidation more than anything else. Nearly being hors d'oeuvre for a dragon's evening meal?"
Cyrus smothered a laugh. Khari didn't bother.
“Well, the 'nearly' bit's pretty important, but I was thinking more along the lines of how great we were. Not just any five-person team can go toe-to-to with a dragon and beat her, you know. That's one for Inquisition legend. And I figure they double as proof, in case anyone tries to call us liars." She grinned, eyes narrowing with the force of it.
Cyrus picked up his own, sliding it over his head without hesitation. Beneath his shirt, it clinked softly against Asvhalla's token. This one, though, he had to say he preferred. Reminder of heavy injuries or not, it was also one he definitely felt he'd earned.
Leon evidently wasn't interested in putting up any sort of fight, either, because he did much the same, the red sliver coming to rest right over his heart. "I suppose I can get behind that." He touched the talon and glanced back at her.
"Thank you, Khari. For everything."
“You're welcome, but thanks are also always accepted in drinks. Just so you're aware."