1867-10-18: Healing Ostvor
Healing Ostvor
Summary: Evelyn spends some time healing commoners within the Healer's Den in Ostvor, and has some self-reflections of herself, the recent events that have ravaged Ostvor, and the Tourney.
Date: 10-18-1867
Related: None
Players:
Evelyn  

It had all started with the last Tourney. Or, more to the point, the tornado after the events. She could still hear the screams when she closed her eyes. Feel the wind. Feel the terror. The fear. It had not been a foe that had any skin, or armor to pierce. It was something no blade could touch. And it had wreaked more havoc on Ostvor than a tribe of barbarians could have.

Many had died. Many had been servants, people, she'd known for years - some since childhood. And she'd then stayed in Ostvor, attending to the needs of the city, helping her father negotiate, run his errands, and do what she could for the people of Ostvor as a whole. It had been tiring work, and she'd not had much sleep for the following weeks between the obligations to her family, her city, and herself.

The masque had been something she realized she needed, but only after her father had -insisted- she went. After all, it would be a good lesson for her in Courtly affairs and the hidden games of Intrigue, to see how people would react, play out, while in the guise and under the pretense of very nature of the masque that ones identity never be revealed or spoken of.

She'd enjoyed herself, but hadn't missed some of the play between other people even as she indulged a bit herself. A smile touched her lips as she remembered the word play, the dances, the costumes she'd seen even through the work she was doing now.

The mask she wore now was stifling, but a necessity. The Healer's Den was packed, and Evelyn had lost count of the number of patients she'd helped the more prominent healers see to that day. She had never thought her training for field medication would be used so. But while the nobles could afford the healers themselves for their own houses, Evelyn knew, too, that the Healer's Den would be strained for resources, as well as manpower.

"There. All done. Rest, now," she said, hearing how her voice was muffled, through the mask. But she tried to let the woman in the bed hear the gentle tone, the smile. The Tourney's had taught her many things, and among them, to hide her exhaustion. She picked up the tray with the salve, and taking the empty cup of silver willow bark tea to move to the next bed.

She knew how all of this was straining her father, her mother, and Osric. Ostvor itself, for that matter. The rebuilding had not yet come to a standstill, but it had certainly slowed with many craftsmen falling ill to the plague.

She moved to the next bed, after brewing another cup of the willow bark tea. "Here. Drink this," she spoke again through the mask to the blonde-haired woman. Evelyn recognized her, and had, on occasion, been waited on her at one of the taverns when she would celebrate with the Lightning Brigade in town. "It will help." Again, the smile in the voice. "Just relax. Drink your tea. And we'll see if we can't help with some of your discomfort." And, almost ritualistic, habitual as it had been with all the others, Evelyn begin to gently apply the salve to the woman's back.

She wondered, as she often had in years prior, if things had been different. If she would have been much changed from the person she was now, if her brother had taken the role of Knight instead of herself. If she would be still a woman who cared, but more distant, as her father, in that political mein. And, as she always did, found it did not matter.

All that mattered now was healing Ostvor, she realized. Rebuilding it. And, caring for it's people. She realized, too, in that moment, that going to the Tourney in Pacitta was not something she was doing because it was the Tourney. Certainly that played some small part. But, now it was more than that. She had intended to sit out this Tourney and instead put her efforts towards her city, and her people.

It had been important to her to have a good showing in Ostvor, and she'd been sorely disappointed in that particular Tourney, especially after her taking the Tourney in Normont - her first full victory. It had been important to win because she'd wanted to impress her father, it had been important because she'd certainly wanted the Sidhe Steel Blade, and it had been important because it was /Ostvor/. But, she'd also faced many worthy, and strong Knights. But the Tourney in Pacitta was something different. It would make a statement.

Certainly there would be fewer in attendance, she reasoned. And, most likely, several regular Knights would have other duties, or possibly be even sick themselves. But in that moment of clarity, she realized that it was important for her to go. Not for points. But as a show of strength for the city that was so beaten down. Win, or lose. Points, or not, it was her presence that would be important. She knew she had many followers in the Tourney, even though she wasn't a favorite as Sir Joffrey or Sir Gabriel, or Sir Jaren had been in their primes. And many of those followers stemmed from Ostvor.

She would give them hope. If only briefly. A distraction, much needed. And then she would return. And continue to help her father rebuild the city, recover, and heal. And she wondered how much her recent stay in Court had to do with this new comprehension, and smiled to herself wryly, beneath the mask.

She nodded to herself the confirmation, then. Accepting it. Committing to it. Then, "There we are. All better?" The woman, seeming to breathe easier with the now consumed tea, nodded and spoke her thanks to her Lady. Evelyn nodded back, "Rest. We'll be back to check on you in a few hours."

It would yet still be a long day, but it had already proven fruitful. And just maybe, she told herself with another wry smile, I'll be tired enough I can get some rest again.

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