The Lead Crown: Ch 5b, Convergence (Pt 1)
#29 of The Lead Crown
Welcome to part 1 of Chapter 5 for group B.
Friar Arlowe once again handles the central focus of the story as he awakens in a room with his son and Dr. Brownell only to find out that most of the party has left them alongside Malcom, who is attempting to stop possible bloodshed. He also finds out that Tobias is also still at the doctor's and is in a less than stellar mood.
Contributing Readers will now have to decide on when the three arrive at the town center and what repercussions may result from that choice:
a) The three arrive as the discussion between Malcom and the church's forces is heating up-- while it is not too late for there to be a peaceful solution, if the three arrive at this time they may be there to watch as Malcom handles the situation peacefully... or they may end up being on the front lines if all hell breaks loose.
b) The three arrive right after the discussion has broken down. Although they were thankfully absent when the horrific slaughter first began, they do arrive in time to help those in need, but may still be at risk themselves as the combat has not yet ended.
c) The three arrive in time to see the Church's forces leave peacefully. Unfortunately, one or more of them recognize Friar Arlowe, and the soldiers are heading right back to Newport where his whereabouts will be relayed to the Inquisitors.
d) The three arrive as combat comes to a close-- nobody in the party was seriously injured but the whole scene is a bloodbath... thankfully they can still do some good in aiding the injured survivors and comfort those who have lost loved ones.
Votes will be accepted through midnight on Thursday, July 24th.
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 5-1, Convergence
Friar Arlowe didn't remember having anything draped across him as he sat by his son during the night but he woke up in the morning covered by a quilt. The soft sound of discussion brought him out of his fitful sleep; Dr. Brownell was kneeling beside the cot containing Cruff and he was responding to her inquiries. The old Raccoon Dog was out of his seat in an instant, and right by his son's side.
The young man took his eyes off of his doctor as the monk took hold of his paw, "I didn't know there were female doctors."
Arlowe wasn't sure whether the comment was addressed to him or to the Mouse, but he thought to answer it regardless, "Apparently there's at least one... and she's very skilled." He smiled to Dr. Brownell when she glanced his way.
Cruff smiled, "Pretty too."
Despite a faint blush overcoming her, the doctor continued inspecting the young Raccoon Dog's wounds, but spoke aside calmly and professionally to the monk, "Your son regained consciousness about an hour ago."
Friar Arlowe gave Cruff's paw a light squeeze then slowly turned to look at the Mouse, "How long have you been here?"
She shrugged as she continued to work, slowly changing out the young Raccoon Dog's bandages, "Off and on since about two this morning."
The monk returned to his chair to pick up the quilt and respectfully fold it, "Is that when you provided me the blanket?"
Dr. Brownell focused her attention on her patient, but replied, "Your traveling companions said you'd barely slept in the past few days. Whether you're worried about your son or not you sacrifice your health and you needed the rest."
Arlowe was surprised when he heard Cruff speak the same words as he, "Thank you."
The Mouse nodded graciously, "You're welcome. Both of you."
the monk fished around in his robes for the small satchel of too-few coins he had with him, "I'm afraid I will have to speak with you some point about the cost of your services, and I regret that I do not have much I can pay for--"
"It's already been taken care of, Friar."
Arlowe paused, then slowly shook his head, "I am afraid I cannot accept your charity, Doctor. You are skilled at your craft, and I wouldn't feel right about accepting your service without seeing you compensated. Perhaps we can work out a payment plan?"
She smiled warmly and finished inspecting Cruff, covering him once again with blankets, "What I mean to say, Friar, is that I have already been paid. Prince Malcom covered the cost of my work for both your son and... the scholar."
The Monk looked down to his son, who appeared as though he was back to dozing, then glanced to the door leading out to the hall as he rubbed his chin, "Mr. Severna? From your tone it sounds as though he may have not been an ideal patient."
The Mouse chuckled, "Let's just say experience has taught me that very few men from the University are inclined to listen to a woman."
Friar Arlowe smiled warmly, and reached over to place a paw on the Doctor's, "That may explain why so few of them are ever married."
Dr. Brownell laughed at the comment, accepting the comforting pat from the monk before drawing her paw back, "Spoken like a true gentleman."
She moved to her satchel and began packing away her supplies, "Cruffington will need to stay here for a few weeks under supervision. I don't want him moving until he's better mended or he may risk a relapse of wounds... especially if some of them reopen."
Arlowe nodded, moving back to Cruff's side so he could tuck the covers back in the way he'd had them the previous night, "Thank you again, Doctor. For everything. May I ask if you know of an inn nearby that I could find a room to rent by the week?"
The Mouse glanced down at the sleeping Raccoon Dog and smiled, then returned her gaze to the Monk, "He said he thought you'd probably plan on leaving."
Friar Arlowe fidgeted, "He has come to expect that based on past experiences, I would suspect... but, no. I want to stay until he's better." Glancing around, he gazed at one of the room's windows, noticing that it was far later in the morning than he'd first thought, "Is everyone else still here?"
Dr. Brownell shook her head, "No, Friar... just Mr. Severna. Everyone else joined Prince Malcom who left earlier this morning for the center of town."
The monk's ears raised, "What, may I ask, is at the center of town?"
"The Church's troops have massed there to provide an ultimatum to the City Council. Prince Malcom is going there to speak with the commanders in hopes of keeping the peace by urging the soldiers to return to Newport without bloodshed."
Friar Arlowe's ears raised again, "Truly? If something goes wrong I may be needed to help minister to the injured."
A very obvious expression of doubt washed across the Mouse's face for a split second, but it passed quickly, "Mr. Severna will be following after them soon. I promised your friends I would show him to the town center once he'd properly eaten. If you wish you are more than welcome to come along."
"What about Cruffington?"
Dr. Brownell smiled, "Your son will be fine resting here. If he needs assistance I do have two aides who will remain, but I should think we'll be back before noon with plenty of time before he next awakens... some of the herbs in the poultices will help him rest."
Arlowe paused for a moment, "And what about you? You said earlier you let me sleep because I needed my rest... could not the same be said for you, my daughter?"
The Mouse smiled, "I sleep an hour at a time several times a day... I find it works easier for me since I can't very well take five or six hours in a row while serving the community's wounded. Besides, it's my job to worry about my patience, not have their fathers worry about me."
The Monk glanced to his sleeping son then to the Doctor. After a moment of indecision he finally nodded, "Very well... then, in that case I would be grateful if you would allow me to accompany you."
The Mouse closed up her satchel, "Alright. I still need to change into something more presentable for around town. Go join Mr. Severna in the dining room and be certain that you have something to eat-- you'll be no good to anyone if you faint from weakness."
Friar Arlowe gave a fond farewell to the Doctor, then leaned over and rested a paw on his son's head for a moment before whispering a farewell along with the promise of his intent to return. After that he stepped out into the hallway and followed the intermittent sound of metal touching ceramic; it led him to the dining room where a subdued, brooding Tobias sat a wooden table, occasionally flicking his spoon against a bowl filled with what appeared to be a combination of fruit and grains with cream.
The monk took a seat beside the scholar and grabbed a handful of berries off of a serving tray situated in the middle of the table, "Good morrow, Mr. Severna. You're looking better this morning."
The prong horn's reply was bordering on sardonic, "Excluding being violated by that woman, yes, I feel much better, thank you."
Friar Arlowe's ears and eyebrows both raised, "Violated? How do you mean?"
"She had the indecency to have me take off my shirt. Honestly! Being bare chested in front of a woman? That is not proper for a gentleman." He shoved his spoon into his breakfast and then stuffed it into his muzzle, chewing despondently, "Honestly, Friar... it left me feeling... dirty."
Dr. Brownell passed by the hall, speaking casually over her shoulder, "Now you can imagine how all of the women must feel when they're seen by a male doctor."
Tobias opened his muzzle to say something, but no words came out. In the end he simply put his spoon into his bowl and sighed, "To make matters worst, I do have to admit that I acted less than courteously to the poor woman."
Arlowe nodded, having heard the periphery of it, "Stress and discomfort often lead us to act in a way contrary to our nature, Mr. Severna. I am sure she would understand if you were to
apologize."
The scholar immediately became indignant, "She has just as much cause to apologize as I do, you know--" and he paused, letting out another breath as he placed his chin in his hand, "...but you're right, Friar... I acted in a decidedly dreadful manner, and, despite being a controlling, aggressive, positively dreadful harpy with horrible bedside manner, I DO owe Doctor Brownell an apology."
A call from the far side of the first floor brought the conversation to a stop, "A harpy with very large ears and exceptional hearing, thank you very much, Mr. Severna!"
Friar Arlwoe felt immediate sympathy for the poor antelope, who turned a much deeper red than the monk had thought possible for a man. The scholar immediately planted his face right into the table with an audible *thunk* The monk comfortingly extended a paw to rest it atop Tobias' head, "Perhaps two apolgoies, my son."