09.18.3013: Stubborn Lord, Stubborn Doctor
Summary: Fresh from his studies, Pyotr comes across his brother, Jarek, attempting to return home.
Date: 09 September 2013
Related: None
Jarek Pyotr Brianny 


The Ways of Khar-Mordune - Khar-Mordune, The Spine
Only those not from Niveus will have to take a moment to adjust to the damp, stark chill of the deep, mountain cavern that is Khar-Mordune. Situated on a large, flat, and nearly featureless island at the center of the underground city are the humped arches of varying sizes that greet or bid farewell to various visitors. The city is situated in the twilight zone of the maze-like caverns, allowing some natural light to filter down from the entrance far above and to the west of the settlement. There are a series of bridges that lead out from the island like the spokes of a wheel into the various districts. Plantlife here is sparse, though the cathedral ceiling high above is home to a colony of spotted bats who have shared this cavern with the people of Khar-Mordune for generations.

The city of Khar-Mordune is a combined architecture of cuboid buildings and intricate elfin edifices. Stairways wind their way through the various promenades and tiers of the central caves.

18 September 3013

Khar-Mordune isn't where Jarek normally is, but up until now he's been the guest of their medical facilities as he recovered from his extensive injuries during the Cape Amran mission. He's preparing to head back to the Drakholt after almost a full weeks recovery. He's still not cleared for military duty, but he needs to check in with his family and with the household. He's headed towards the Ways, dressed in simple clothing in house Peake colors.

Having come back to home after studying, Pyotr had heard of his brother's misfortunes. The steady clack and step that announces the cane-assisted walk comes from within the Ways hub before the younger brother notices the heir and he gives a shake of his head, perhaps bemused, or disappointed, or who knows really what emotion. "Really, Jarek." Pyotr announces clearly, "When a doctor gives you a perscribed 'down' time, it is /not/ a suggestion."

"Ha, you would say that brother. I was okayed to travel home, and my stay here might become suspicious if drawn on too long. Lady Sir Agnes and I might be betrothed, but reputations need to be kept until we're married." Jarek smiles fondly at his brother, walking up to him so that he doesn't have to walk too far. "How are you? How are you studies going?"

If eyerolls were audible, Pyotr's eyes would be clicking. Without even a second thought, Pyotr takes out his small scanner. "You won't mind if I peek in for myself then, would you?" he asks in mild amusement as he waves his free hand dismissively. "Apperances and gossip. Is it any wonder why I never bothered to trip the light romantic with a lovely young woman?" Well, there was one, but that is kept close to the chest. "Oh, studies are you know - studious." A grin is presented as he studies the readouts on the scanner. "And that comment does beg the question - you are trying hard too keep up apperances now, and it suggests that after you're married, damn opinion, you're going to do what you want when you want. You realize that is a bit silly, right?" Putting away the scanner, Pyotr leans on his cane. "Now, are you going to clasp my hand in greetings or am I going to have to pretend that I'm all insulted?"

Laughing, Jarek reaches out then winces and his arm falls to his side. Pyotr's scanner beeping as the muscle group flairs up with warnings on the screen. "I would love to clasp hands or even hug… but, I've not recovered fully just yet. The muscles need time still, surgery can only do so much." He does step closer and offer out his other hand, only just not as far out this time.

And at that reaction, Pyotr frowns. He steps into his brother's half-embrace, but his hand reaches up to feel near the surgery area. "What did they give you for pain and bonding?" he asks his eyes studying his brother's face and then back to his arm as worry creases against his brow and furrows together his tattoo.

"You think I can understand medical speak? Might as well ask me to recite prayer in one of the dead languages, off the top of my head." Jarek smirks slightly at his brother, and shakes his head slightly, "I'll be fine, just want to get home. As for appearances… betrothal doesn't mean married. So, while it will happen, Lady Sir Agnes and I can't afford to marr our reputations with talks of inappropriate behaviours happening before marriage."

"Oh yes, because a man that is recovering from surgery will do /all/ types of inapprorpiate things with his betrothed?" Pyotr says as he releases his brother's arm and with a sigh, opens his medical bag to prepare a hypospray. "You should consider your blessings that I came prepared." he says quietly, mainly to himself as he roots around for the right product to use. "I still don't get the whole idea of marring your reputations, and all that tobbyrot." he comments as he finds a proper pain-killer. "Now, before I give you this, let me see what you are already taking and have taken so that there isn't a reaction. And while you do that, give mee three examples of what people would see you in a medical area with your betrothed and think anything inappropriate about. I think you're just being ridiculous and stubborn, but that has always been your way, big brother."

Getting out a small chip for medical personel to use as prescription notes and such, Jarek offers it to his brother. "Well, I was in a private room here. And any suggestive rumors about us would be bad… father just barely agreed to our match. I don't want to do anything that could jeapordize his decision." including kissing, poor Agnes.

Accepting the chip in his hand, Pyotr plugs it into his scanner to read over it. "I will never ever pretend to understand the ideas of a love match." he mutters to himself as he continues to read over the scripts. "Looks like they have you on paracetamol and co-codamol at the moment. Not exactly the best mix in the world, and it really does nothing for the swelling. I'm going to give you a dose of diclofenac for the swelling and so that the joint doesn't get tight. I'd also suggest that you talk to Agnes about getting some topical creams. A good voltarol gel will do wonders for your skin as well as soothe the burn."

Eyeing his brother as he jibberjabbers at him, Jarek's eyes sort of glaze over before the part about creams and Agnes and gel… "Yes, that sounds nice, " cough, "I mean, what? Oh, sure. Just uh tap it in on that chip for me and I'll make sure to get some." He looks at his arms and sighs softly, "Hurts like hell, and I mean that." a knowing look.

"Then you should be in a bed, recovering." Taking out the vial, Pytor puts it into the scanner with a firm click and lets the chip read the new information before moving to inject his brother in the side of the neck with a quiet 'sshhh' of sound. The anti-inflamatory enters into Jarek's bloodstream to go take care of the inflamation. "And if you're that worried about your image, have her there only during the visiting hours and leave the door open when she visits." he shrugs his own shoulders. "I think you're reading way too much into your worries. You got the approval, that's ninety percent of the work. I suppose I should be congratulating you, but I think Jura would like it more, at least when you and Agnes finally make the next generation." he winks at that.

Having received word that one of her husband's nephews and thus her nephew as resting, injured, in the dark caverns of Khar-Mordune, Brianny decides to pay him a visit. She doesn't venture down these parts very often, so is surprised by the cold chill which hits her once she steps foot out of the waygate. She is dressed in the usual traditional attire that many a proper Leonnidan wears: An emerald green gown with intricate needlework along the trim. A French Hood style headdress rests upon her head while her hair is modestly covered by a long green veil. Luckily for her, knowing full well that she would be venturing into a cave, she dons a traveling cloak and while it may not be enough to ward the cold completely away, it will have to do for now. A covered basket of goodies hangs at her thin wrist. What she wasn't expecting, however, was to find two of her nephews in Khar-Mordune and neither of them are resting in a bed! Looking quite surprised, she quickly heads in the direction of the Saimhann pair, her eyes wide. "I did not expect to see you healed so quickly, Young Lord Jarek." But by the looks of it, he doesn't look entirely healed. She then favors Pyotr with a warm smile, "Are you escorting your elder brother back home already?"

"I am not healed, just clear to return home." Jarek answers before looking to Pyotr, "It's more complicated than just us being in love, Pyotr. We've been friends for so long, it'll just take a little getting used to the idea that I'll have kids with my best friend." he smiles, "Though, I am fond of the idea of spending my life with Agnes… I do love her."

Pyotr looks just mildly put out for a moment. "That and he has this overzealous need to protect his image." the doctor says with a shake of his head. "Sorry, Lady Brianny, he just doesn't get it sometimes. He's all infected with love or some mess. Anyway, we can make sure he gets home and in his bed so we're not seen as bad family members, right?"

Brianny listens with a curious ear to the conversation of loving being spouted. She even nods slowly to nothing in particular. However, when Pyotr brings up the idea of taking Jarek home, she looks rather surprised. "With the tales that I have heard of your heroism, I am afraid that I do not understand. Why should your image be tarnished? I highly doubt that House Peake will give much complaint if you continue to rest there. In fact, it would be terribly rude of them if they did complain, I think." Catching herself before she rambles on, she moves to side opposite of where Pyotr stands to his brother in an attempt to offer him some support there. Though it is to Pyotr that she asks right now, "Is he well enough to make this journey home, Lord Pyotr?"

"I don't want to make people whisper about Agnes and I in inappropriate ways. So, if I go home after I've spent the better part of a week as their guest, it isn't a slight to them. Plus, with my family's concern for my well being, they can't take it as offence." Jarek looks at his brother now, waiting for the answer to whether or not he's going to the Drakholt today.

There's a momentary pause from Pyotr, as he gives a slow, some would dare say malicious, smile. "Well, I am wondering if he's perhaps suffering a concusion or some other cranial damage with all this talk of love and marriage and all of that. I'm just wondering when it's going to hit home that he has to put his penis in his best friend's vagina and make children with her. Including all the grunting and sweating and all of that. It really is all just.." he shakes his head. "Scientifically speaking, it is better to find a match that would provide a strong foundation for the next generation of heirs. Have you had a chance to have a blood test and genetic matching to make sure your offspring will not have any maladys? After all, you should know if she will be able to start pumping out your children immediately, right?"

Yes, this is the idea of teasing his older brother. After all, Pyotr does not plan on marrying.

Brianny just stares at Pyotr, making her look like a deer in headlights when he even utters the words penis and vagina. She even blinks two or three times following this, a not-so faint blush burning at her cheeks now. For this moment, at least, she makes no eye contact with either of the brothers! Instead, she sets her gaze forward or at the ground. Perhaps there is something interesting down there.

Those words get Jarek to blush about as badly as Brianny does, and he looks up and away while trying to whistle softly. Cough. Ahem, "Ah, well… that is one of the many, er, things she and I have to come to terms with." he won't say more on that, "As in, actually go through with it for all the talk we put up." yeah, that makes it better. "Shall we switch subjects now? How about I talk about the gardens here? They are lovely, you should both visit them."

Pyotr can only shake his head. Last he checked, everyone here was an adult. "I visited them when I was in college. They are quite lovely. However, that is not the subject I want to address. The subject I want to address is this." And the doctor's finger pokes his brother's wounded shoulder. Not in the wound itself, but near. Just as a reminder. "Us. Home. You are to rest, ice the shoulder twice a day. Take the antiinfalmatory in concert with pain relievers that were perscribed to you. Furthermore, no sword practice for two weeks. No heavy lifting for a month. If you are planning on visiting with Agnes or being out more than a few hours at a time, use a sling. You do not need to be pushing that arm too hard. If that joint becomes infected, you may not have a chance to use your arm properly ever again." he says, sounding very much like he knows exactly what he speaks of. And as he walks, that limp is there, steadied with his cane. If he had not tied so hard to get back on his feet when he was a kid, perhaps..

The last of the heat at her cheeks slowly begins to fade away. When Pyotr changes the subject back to Jarek's condition, Brianny adds in her nod of supportive, looking quite determined to help see this through. "When we return home, I shall see about making you something warm and soothing to eat. Soup sounds nice." She only remembers the basket when it swings with her steps and taps against her thigh, thus she brings it up. "I had packed up some fruit and bread and slices of meat for you and for House Peake. I will see about sending forth a letter of gratitude to them and a gift basket."

"Yes yes, Py. I'll be a good heir and knight and accept doctor's orders." Jarek sigh-eye-roll-acquiesces to his brother. He looks to Brianny and smiles, "I would like that, I am getting hungry. You seem to really be taking to your new role in the family Lady Brianny. I'm glad to see and hear it, I think that would quite lovely for the Peakes."

"Good. Because I brought enough sedatives to take down a Hostile battallion if you were going to disagree." Pyotr says ratheer matter-of-factly. As the heir and aunt chatter about the social graces, the doctor offers a slight bow. "Lady Brianny, I assume you will make sure my brother gets home safely? I have to get back to taking care of some of my lab work."

"Oh!" Brianny says in surprise when given the responsibility to ensure Jarek's safe travel back home. "Why yes, I should be able to manage that." Though there is a tiny bit of fret on her youthful features when she looks upon the injured nephew. What if he collapsed. She doesn't have the strength to actually carry him! So many worries plague her mind, but once she breaks out of her daydreaming, she smiles brightly once more. First at Pyotr and then to Jarek. "I am a Saimhann now, Lord Jarek. I must do whatever I can to assist my new family. Your family. Come, let us get you back to Drakholt in one piece."

Aaaaaaaaaaand, fwump. Jarek falls into Pyotr, before he leaves.

As Jarek falls over into Pyotr, the doctor tries to move to accept the weight. Unfortunately, he comes in from the side that the doctor is weakest on, and his left leg crumples beneath the weight. There's a loud whine of servos and gears and a squawk of protest before the doctor falls over, Jarek piling upon him. Attempting to move to assist Jarek to his feet, the doctor glances towards Brianny helplessly, and tries to move to get out from under his brother. "Where's his damn guards when I need them." he growls under his breath.

It is a good thing that Brianny went over to Jarek's other side just earlier, so when he leans a little to deeply into Pyotr, it is the smaller of the Saimhann who tries to stabilize the group as a whole, so that they do not all topple over. Still, no complaints come from Brianny throughout all of this and she attempts to draw more of the weakened Lord's weight in her direction. "I do ask again. Will we even be able to transport the Young Lord back to Drakholt?"

"Call the House Peake hospitial." Pyotr manages to push himself up as he looks for a comm device. "His foolish pride is going to cost him more than a small fall one of these days, and I don't want to be there when it happens." he says as he moves to make sure his lower leg settles back into place.


Later, Pyotr sits down and pens a letter to his future-sister-by-marriage.


Lady Agnes,

While I understand that you are betrothed to my brother and that he is your best friend, in his opinion, this stubborn pride that he has of worrying about /your/ apperances and rumors that you two are being improper must stop. Today, my foolish brother attempted to leave the hospital and return home under his own power. He failed. I have sedated him and given him medication to treat inflamation of his shoulder. These are his instructions for the next two weeks.

- No sword practice.
- No lifting over 15 pounds.
- If you wish to take him out, he /must/ wear a sling.
- He has been assigned two pain killers and an anti-inflamatory. He must take these on time.
- Shoulder must be iced, twice a day.
- There is a mint and teaberry lotion that would be good for keeping his skin loose, he will need assistance applying it.
- Bed rest. At least one week.

When he has followed these instructions, we will work together to transport the Young Lord back to Darkholt for continued healing. I thank you for your assistance in my brother's healing and look forward to your joining the family.

Sincerely,
Lord Doctor Pyotr Saimhann, M.D., PhD. Pharmacology


Lord Pyotr,

I was not even aware that Jarek had been released from the Hospital, as I had matters to attend to today. I'll see to it he has someone watching him around the clock to be sure he doesn't escape the clutches of Khar Mordune's nursing staff until he is cleared for release.

Sincerely,
Lady Sir Agnes Peake
~Knight Lieutenant

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