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 Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 3:34 am
"Illian, come, let me look you over." He let Jelanii's presence be forgotten as he called his brother over to him, figuring he could include the Matorian after. He knew the near-stranger probably had injuries as well, but it didn't matter to Istanell. What mattered... who mattered to him was Illian. If that made him a bad earthling... well.
He at least was doing a fairly good job of hiding his own injuries since he'd finally sat down. He'd even managed to gingerly sit up, pulling his arm away from cradling his ribs in, what seemed to Istanell, such a desperately babyish manner.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 11:59 am
Illian stood awkwardly by himself for a moment, gaze drifting from the Matorian who'd spoken to the form of his brother as he went to sit in the shade. Illian gave a mental snort as he saw his brother try to hide the pain he was in. He'd seen how hard some of those brutes had taken to hitting each other and he knew that being so slight of frame spelled for worse injuries. It didn't help that Nelly had been cradling his ribs as if they'd been bruised or broken.
Carefully he made his way over, knowing very well that his injuries were far, far less than Istanell's own. In fact his only serious injury was the cut along his arm that had already scabbed over.
"I think I should be saying that to you." He retorted, kneeling down in front of the other. "I have some salve that a...a friend made. It's good for bruises but not much else." He glanced back at the Matorian then returned his gaze to Istanell. "There isn't enough for everything. You got worked over big brother."
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 5:08 pm
Istanell couldn't help but roll his eyes, sighing slightly but finally nodding in agreement. He frowned, puzzled at Illian's hesitance to just who exactly had made the salve. He pursed his lips together as he thought about that a moment, and then thought about why it even mattered. It didn't... they had some bruising salve and that was what mattered.
Of course there wasn't enough for everything... forget about bruising... "We need medicine for cuts." He said this calmly, just stating a fact. He didn't bring up that as soon as possible he was going to go find something that promoted bone growth and healing, just in case.
He reached up and waited a moment as he looked at Illian before taking his arm, inspecting the gash. Blood had already dried there, luckily. "We should wash this." Even though he knew he needed to get to his own injuries he still knew it would feel better to take care of his younger brother first. "And my cuts, too." Illian was more likely to agree if he included himself, right? He nodded in the direction of the Matorian. "And his."
He was studying the cut for longer than necessary, not wanting to let go of Illian. He cleared his throat and finally let go. "What... what have you..." The question tapered off as a blanket of awkwardness fell over him, realizing maybe that wasn't the best thing to ask his brother after not seeing him in five years. "You look in good health, Illian." The clothes were interesting, but Istanell wasn't about to bring that up right now.
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 5:44 pm
The barest hint of a smile curled the corners of his lips as he listened to Istanell speak. "You need bandages for your ribs too." He added, "Don't think I didn't notice you favoring them." He honestly didn't feel the need to bandage the cut as it would likely scar no matter what he did with it. But he would go along with whatever his brother wanted, within reason. The Matorian though, yes, he would need to be checked over as well. Shieldma- Shieldbrothers were rare, more so for the newly freed Matorians.
Most of those he'd encountered were still meek little things, just learning how to use their fangs or learning that it was okay to bare them.
He knew what his brother had been going to ask, and gracefully ignored the question. He didn't want to tell him that he'd been a slave to a pig of a man, that he'd witnessed things that were better left unsaid. That he'd been forced to participate in them still rankled him and he'd rather not bite his brothers head off for something he had no idea of. It was...better that way.
"I'd hope so, I had a reason to stay in good health." Illian replied, voice soft and neutral. He wasn't going to berate Istanell persay, but he wasn't going to allow his displeasure to be known at how poor health he'd found his older brother. Their fathers golden child. It ruffled his feathers at seeing him like this. Istanell was supposed to be untouchable and to see him so...well...fragile made something twist in his gut.
He dug around in his hip pouch, not that there was much in it, and pulled out a half-full waterskin and a strip of jerky and held it out. He could get something later and still have enough to pay the toll for water. He very much doubted that Istanell had anything of value on him other than his weapons, one of which he seemed to have lost.
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Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2015 6:00 pm
Istanell continued to look like he'd smelt something sour as Illian brought up his ribs but nodded regardless. He didn't really want to worry his brother with it... bandages probably wouldn't even help that much. Time, that was what would help.
Even though Illian's voice wasn't implying any ill will Istanell still felt slightly ashamed of himself and a little annoyed. Mostly because he wasn't in good health, at all. And it sounded like Illian was implying Istanell hadn't thought he had a reason to stay in good health... Istanell's gaze cut away because he wasn't sure how to respond to that and he didn't want Illian to see the annoyance on his face. Though little had changed in five years in the way Istanell held himself when he was annoyed and afraid someone was calling his character into question. His shoulders had stiffened and he'd straightened up slightly, despite the pain that shot through his ribs. He was... alive.
It hadn't been so bad when V'Rin had still been by his side, it had been easier to take care of himself with the other shifter was constantly reminding him. But not so easy when he was on his own, when the easier thing became worrying about moving forward. Most things came second to travel, even if they would have made travel easier. His gaze slid back to Illian when he noticed movement and he eyed the jerky for a minute. He almost stubbornly refused it but knew that would be stupid. He took it and took a deep breath, pushing a smile onto his features. "It seems I've been developing some bad habits where my health is concerned." He said softly, ripping off a piece of jerky and chewing for a moment before downing some of the water.
He motioned beside him for Illian to sit. "Let me clean that, then you can clean mine." He was sure he had dried blood in a few places, but he hadn't really looked himself over yet.
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Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2015 7:32 pm
It was hard not to react to his brother's stubbornness by smacking him over the back of his head. Violence came...easier to him now, and the thought alone stilled his hand. He could feel his face shifting into a more neutral look, a mask he wore as he struggled to bank his emotions. It was a tell from when he was little, when he realized that nothing he could do would get his father to view him as something, someone, more than his abilities. Another body to use for his stupid legacy, his glory.
Slowly he sat up straight, stomping down on the urge to spit acid at his brother. It was a chore to remind himself that their trials might have been different, but they were both difficult. He'd just found his brother, he didn't want to...drive him away. He loved him as equally as he hated him.
"We both have, it comes with growing older." and apart, was left unsaid. He shook his head, "I don't think so brother, you were worked over far more than I was, I'd rather see for myself that your wounds are superficial. I know I'm just bruise a bit, and the cut isn't that deep, but you'll see that for yourself. Once I've checked you out."
Really, it was because he didn't think he could stomach having Istanell touching him, not yet. Not when he wasn't sure if those ribs were broken, bruised or cracked. He didn't want him moving more than needed until his fears were laid to rest.
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Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2015 8:01 pm
It wasn't like when they had been younger it had been easy to speak with each other. The opposite was true. It felt to Istanell like he and Illian butted heads quite easily. Right now they didn't have their brothers' presence to smooth over their rough exchanges.
Still, he didn't understand why Illian wouldn't just let him look at the cut. He was the older brother, he was supposed to protect Illian... and look how the tables had turned! He tried to relax his body, let the tension slide away. That sort of thing wasn't good for a battered body anyhow. He reminded himself that right now was a happy occasion... but why then did it feel far from it?
Istanell stared at his knees, holding the jerky. After a moment he nodded, consenting to Illian's wishes. "Will you be able to tell?" Istanell had a bad habit of not drawing out his questions to their entirety more often than not, though he just wanted to know about his ribs. He'd be able to tell a broken arm or leg or even a smaller bone like a finger... but the ribs he wasn't sure. He was no healer, surely.
He wanted something to speak about, besides the wounds he carried and the secret miseries they both carried deep within their bones. "Your hair has gotten long... you should let me braid it." He smiled slightly, hoping to remind Illian of better times. He'd been itching to braid someone's hair since V'Rin had gone... it was more gratifying than braiding his own.
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Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2015 8:35 pm
The smile that curled his lips was lopsided and small, but true. He could feel the tension seeping from his frame at the words, and how easily Istanell had conceded to his worries. "After." He promised and shuffled closer. He hesitated for a moment before pulling him into another hug, this one gentle and mindful of the others injuries.
"I've...broken mine enough times to know what to look for." He offered, trailing his fingers across Istanells clavicles. He followed the path down his sternum, "How badly does it hurt to breath? I don't hear a gurgle so you haven't punctured a lung." He said, glad that the other didn't seem as badly injured as he'd first feared.
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Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2015 8:58 pm
Istanell had broken a few bones in his youth, but never his ribs. He didn't like the sound of what Illian was telling him and almost was tempted to inquire about it. How had he broken them? Who had broken them? He wasn't about to ask, not yet. Not after finally seeing Illian's smile. There would be time for invasive questions... and if there wasn't Istanell would likely make the time for them.
He didn't answer Illian right away, mostly because his teeth were clenching together after he'd taken a deep breath to try and gauge the pain, stupidly, instead of just continuing to breath normal and pay attention. "That's lucky, at least." He wasn't being sarcastic or joking, either. He really did think it was lucky nothing had pierced his lungs. He still hadn't answered Illian yet, and now was taking too long for the answer to seem natural.
"It's not that bad." Istanell met Illian's gaze boldly, having long ago learned it was better to lie about pain than tell the truth. That too was a bad habit, though it had taken root much earlier in life. "I can walk." As though that was some magical phrase. It's not bad, I can walk, it's nothing. I can still pick up my sword. I can still swing it. I'm okay. He blinked slowly, suddenly ashamed for lying to his brother. His brother was not here to berate him for getting hurt!
"Each breath feels like someone is stabbing me." He said suddenly, after a moment of quiet. The look he gave his brother was sheepish, apologetic for trying to act like his injuries didn't matter. "Even sitting down hurt considerably."
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Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2015 5:58 am
He could almost see the muscle jumping in Nelly's jaw, with how hard he was clenching his teeth. His brother had foolishly taken a deep breath to gauge his levels of pain, and from the shifting he felt with his hands placed over the others ribs, at least two or three of them were broken. But he would let his brother come clean first with how bad it felt, before letting him know what he'd found.
He was no healer though, so it would be in their best interests to find one willing to look at him.
The words were on his lips, ready to call him out on the lie he could see brewing behind those familiar eyes, when Istanell suddenly changed his mind, taking back that words he'd so boldly declared not a heartbeat before. He nodded, "It's good that you can still walk, but bending and twisting will be painful." He said, "You've got a couple broken ribs, probably from bad falls or getting kicked while down."
He wasn't going to say that he knew that from experience. The gladiator ring wasn't as fun as it appeared to be, not with every man or woman fighting for their freedom. His Master hadn't been kind to him either, letting every cut heal by itself with minimal treatment. He'd had to stitch himself up numerous times and only ever seemed to see a healer when broken bones or a concussion was involved. Even then most of the time he'd just wake up swaddled in cloth with orders to not move around too much.
"We're going to bandage your ribs, it'll support them while they heal if we can't find a healer within our price range."
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2015 2:37 pm
The older shifter had figured that out easily enough, but it wasn't like he could void twisting and bending movements. It would have been even better if he could have just layed on the ground all day, doing nothing. Unfortunately that wasn't an option, he and Illian would need to start looking for Incanthis. Which was another thing Istanell would have to bring up, and soon.
Istanell eyed Illian curiously, frowning in thought. He wanted to ask where his brother had gotten all of the knowledge over these last five years but didn't know how to word it in a way that seemed harmless. His eyes floated down to his chest, fingers ghosting over the skin that Illian had been touching. He'd never had broken ribs before, hadn't been around anyone with them either. It sounded good to him. "Fine. No healer." Well, healer if things got bad or didn't improve but Istanell couldn't justify spending money on something that would heal on it's own. Especially if it was his younger brother's money. The pain would be a reminder of his mistakes, just like their father had taught him.
"I'll make do. I think that's the worse of it, in any case. So we need bandages." Istanell alright felt like he would go, no matter if Illian tried to make him take it easy. He needed to redeem himself from how horrible he'd just fought, even if it was just personally. He glanced over to the Matorian, then back to his brother.
Selfishly he wished Incanthis was with them now... or Isolder. Isaris, Issaly. Speaking with Illian had always been easier when at least a third member of their family was present. "I thought maybe... I'm glad you are not dead, Illian."
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2015 3:24 pm
Illian thumped him on the shoulder, "Pain for the sake of being in pain is no reminder." He admonished, "Father was wrong with that lesson. Bruises are a reminder, shallow cuts are a reminder, broken bones are a liability." He scowled at Istanell, "What happens if we need to fight again? You'll be in even worse condition if you're still healing. I'd rather you have partially healed bones then something that's broken shifting around inside you."
He gave the older shifter a small shake, "Don't let me hear you being stubborn about this again brother. I've had five years to grow up some more and you'll find that you'll lose the argument." He settled back on his haunches and ran a hand over Istanell's hair, "Me too. I thought the worst...that I was worse than Father was, for..for leaving everyone. For getting myself captured when the fighting was so clearly over."
Illian refrained from saying that he thought he'd die a slave, skewered on some weapon or another for the pleasure of an uncaring crowd. He had to swallow back the thick feeling in his throat. "I'm glad you found me."
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2015 5:00 pm
Istanell let his brother's words wash over him, concentrating on relaxing his shoulders and calming his expression. He was out of practice of doing that too, of pacifying others. He had mixed feelings about feeling like he needed to do so with his own brother, but he wasn't sure how to further convery his feelings about the matter. It was true, his injury would be a liability. But so too was how much his skill in fighting had diminished, what help would he be even with his ribs in pristine condition? "Of course." He breathed out, his words soft and acquiescent. He knew a healer wouldn't touch him if he was awake and not allowing he or she to do so... or so he hoped.
He bit down on his tongue at Illian's next words, liking them little. He liked the implied command least of all, though he doubted Illian really thought of it as such. Istanell's eyelids lowered some as he tried to maintain what he thought of as a passive look, realizing Illian knew him too well for him to continue to be so open with his body language. He wouldn't lose this argument, because he wouldn't even have it. His body was his and his alone, none of Illian's words could change that.
Istanell's shoulders slumped at Illian's next words. "It wasn't your choice to leave us, just like it wasn't mine. You think I would have gone on my own by choice?" He rubbed at his temples, both saddened by their talk and irritated by the pain radiating from his ribs. "If it hadn't been for an Oban striking me down and being too confident in thinking it was a killing blow I think... I think I would have gotten myself captured too, Illian." Incanthis' face flashed into his head from that ill fated day so long ago and Istanell found his eyes wandering away from his brother, filling with a heavy sadness. "I'm sorry it took me so long to do so." He should have made V'Rin turn around as soon as his wound had healed, should have headed boldly into the Oba territory instead of avoiding them at all costs... coward.
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Posted: Mon Jun 08, 2015 5:37 pm
He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling like he was being allowed his victory and as such it left a hollow feeling in his gut. His brother was no passive creature. Illian knew this as they were cut from the same cloth and molded by the same hands. The feeling of tears prickling his eyes faded abruptly.
"No I'm...I'm glad it took you so long. You..wouldn't have liked what you'd seen if you'd found me before freedom was granted to us, or even right afterwards." He let out a slow breath, "I...don't think I would have went with you if you'd found me within a week of being free. I have an obligation outside of the family that I have to take care of." He didn't want to admit it, but being away from Kadan for as long as he was, was making him feel antsy.
She wasn't a fighter and was more prone to retreating within herself if things got violent. He worried over her like he was sure he'd worry over his firstborn. Like he worried over their mother when she faded away. He knew Kadan wouldn't be his for much longer and was determined to keep her safe while she was still with him.
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Posted: Tue Jun 09, 2015 5:28 am
Istanell was trying to piece together what Illian's history here was, he didn't like the ideas he was coming up with. He should have just come out and asked the younger shifter directly... his gut instinct told him that would be a really bad idea though.
As they spoke Istanell had covered the worst of his bruises with Illian's salve, careful to use only a minimal amount because it seemed like this was something dear to it. Made by Illian's precious friend, apparently. That would take some getting used to... all the different earthlings each one of his brothers would know now, earthlings that Istanell would have no idea about. Istanell's only lasting relationship over the last five years had been with another from their village, so it wasn't like V'Rin would be considered a stranger to them...
He closed the bruise healing salve and handed it over to his brother, then wiped his hands on his pants. "Sit in front of me a moment, Illian. What sort of braid do you want?" It seemed as though Istanell had ignored all of Illian's words, but that wasn't the case. He was soaking them up, considering them.
He wondered what he would have done, had Illian try and refuse to come home? What was it even like, having an obligation that wasn't your family? Istanell was so confused... he was supposed to feel ecstatic having found Illian but mostly he just felt a deep sadness that sunk to the center of his bones. He didn't want to be thinking about his brother's troubles or his brother's life, separate from his own. Before the war their lives had all been... woven together. The ware had frayed that cloth.. torn it a part. "I may not have liked whatever it was but I would still love you. I would have done or said anything I could to get you to come back, if you tried to refuse me." Istanell was sure he would have even used force at that point, though little good that would have done him.
He and Illian had become disastrously unmatched with weapons, Illian would have wrecked him. That too was something to think about... the amount of ridicule he would have received if his younger brother was better than him at something... he hated that. The feeling of never being able to enjoy his brothers' accomplishments fully because they were reminders of his own short comings.
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