An Unusual Request

An Unusual Request
Summary: Samwell approaches Claire with a request that might be a touch uncomfortable - for a prince.
Date: 14/10/1329
Related: None
Players:
Samwell Claire 

TP Room 2
A guest room at the castle in Estermarch.
Oct 14, 1329

Another day at the Losthren's. Samwell and his merry men had ridden out to visit a garrison occupying a hillside which has a good view towards the north and potential northern troops heading for the border. They return in the late afternoon and while the men return to the camp, Samwell returns to the castle. Eventually there'll be a knock at the door of the Lady Claire's room.

Since being at the castle, Claire hasn't been idle in her impromptu joining of the Prince's group of knights. "Come in." Spoken cordially, in the next moment the door opens, courtesy of the maid who has been assisting her lady with a downcast curtsey. In what? That may become clear as the Sollinger lady looks away from her case of herbs, some vials more replenished than others with a curtsey befitting the difference in status. "Your Highness. Are there any problems among the men?"

"No, no, the men are fine.", Samwell replies as he steps deeper into the room, "It is me who's come to ask you a favour. Have you had a pleasant day, Mylady? The Losthrens treating you well?"

"Very much so, in that they are treating me well." Said with the slightest clink of vial being slid back into its place within the case after rising, Claire gestures to the table and chairs - the former of which she currently uses for her organization. "If you and your men were leaving that early, it would have been no problem for us to be awake to accompany you. But that is neither here nor there, it seems. Please, have a seat. What favor do you have in mind?"

"I would hate to put you at risk, Mylady.", Samwell replies earnestly, "Besides we will venture further within the next days and then we would like for you to come with us. For now…" He does take a seat and his hand goes up to his fine dark-blue waistcoat which he wears over a silk shirt. "Er… would you find it offensive if I took my shirt off, Mylady?"

Claire ruefully remarks with a wave of one hand for him to continue, "If I found it offensive, then I am clearly in the wrong occupation. Most things are not likely to find me put at unease. Is there anything that you'd like to tell me before I get started on this mysterious request?"

"Just to not mistake this.", Samwell replies with a slight grin, then unbuttons the waistcoat and takes it off, before pulling the shirt over his head as well. Once his bare torso is exposed, Claire will see a rather icky red boil low on his left shoulder… looks like a rather mean critter had a feast on royal blood there.

"That looks like something decided to take a bite out of you or mistook you for a pincushion," Claire remarks as she steps forward and around to face his back with an expression befitting a healer. With fingers hovering above the boil, she begins with the most obvious question. "What happened? And how long as it been like this?"

"I don't know what happened.", Sam admits, craning his neck to get a peek at the boil on his shoulder, "I think it happened on the ride here… we had taken a longer break to water the horses and splashed ourselves with water too, so a fair bit of skin was exposed. I felt an itch that night in bed and scratched it, thinking it was a typical mosquito bite of sorts. But it kept swelling and hurts and itches and feels all around unpleasant.", the young royal complains, "Do you have some tincture for this?"

The redness and swelling are enough to elicit a thin lined frown, fingers shadowing the exact positioning of the boil before nodding unseen. "I should. Does it only itch? Or does it feel as if something is inside fluid, I mean. It may be that we must drain whatever is inside but if I lack the exact tincture, I can make it this afternoon. In the meantime, I can apply a light cream to relive the itching for a few hours," Claire says in explanation, turning towards the case of herbs and other combinations thereof. Searching by knowing exactly where things are based on their effects, she asks, "How did you manage without saying anything before?"

"I don't like to touch it. It feels… icky.", Samwell replies to her first question and shudders slightly at the suggestion of draining the wound. Clearly it is filled with a pus of sorts. He chews his lower lip and looks worried, but at the last question is royal breeding kicks in and he straightens somewhat. "I am a prince of the realm, Mylady, I do not whine like a baby in front of my men!"

"Perhaps," Claire begins with a touch of delicateness to her voice as the jar is lifted beside another, more of a liquid substance. "It is not so much whining but an acknowledgement. I do have the tincture, given that we can treat it as an insect bite. It may draw out the pus or it may bring a head to the boil so that it would be easier to drain on hardening. Though, I might note.. it would better serve you by staying soft. Hardness for a boil would mean a.. discreet procedure, of course."

Only long training in the royal family makes Sam keep his composure and not run for the hills. "That sounds rather disagreeable, Mylady, but I saw you save the man's life who was bitten by a snake. So I trust you know what you are doing…" He eyes the jars warily but seems willing to sit still and endure whatever treatment she is going to do.

"I shall endeavor to not leave you with a scar, Your Highness." That said with a glimmer of matter of factness, Claire reaches for one of the clean bandages as she steps around him before finding one of the jars set out beside her case. "And because of that, I will apply the tincture and bandage it carefully so that the full effects can get into the skin." Said as she begins the process of applying the herbal combination with careful fingers, she continues speaking without missing much of a beat. Not to mention, checking if the injury is overly warm to the touch. "It will need to be in place for a day, perhaps two. See me tomorrow so that it can be thoroughly checked and cleaned, though."

"A scar?!", gasps the young prince, "My mother will have your head on a platter if you scar me!" But for all his wild threat, he remains seated weakly, eyeing the procedure warily. "Will it sting?", he asks when she starts getting the tincture ready.

It might be a concern to Claire on the matter of the Queen, but she doesn't let it show in her demeanor and certainly not her features. His back to her, being a benefit in that regard. "It may feel cool and possibly a relief since it has been itching. This is the non surgical procedure, I remind you," she says, placing the bandage against the boil with a gentle hand before instructing. "Hold that in place, please while I wrap the shoulder. I'll use an over and under method so that you can continue movement normally and your troops will know nothing amiss."

"I once had a gash on my lower leg and they applied a poultice to it that stung like hellfire.", Samwell admits and grits his teeth to brace himself for the pain. But no pain is forthcoming and he visibly deflates, shoulders slumping. "That's not bad.", he admits and does as he's told, holding the bandage in place on the boil.

"That's because the poultice was combating the resulting infection from the gash," Claire instructs while carefully unwinding the length of clean cloth across part of his chest to around the back, once and then twice over the bandage and indicating when he can remove his hand. "In this case, the combination of herbs should pull away the itching and discomfort. Not to mention the swelling as well. But no peeking, or a desire to peek until I check on it tomorrow. Understood?" Who would have thought that she would be lecturing the prince of all people?

The prince may lead an army but there's still a bit of a Mommy's boy underneath the royal facade and the steely armor. He sits still, content to be mollycoddled by the healer and nods to her instructions. "I shan't peek, I promise. I'm not interested in ever seen that ugly boil again. How long until it is fully gone?", he asks hopefully, "It won't leave a trace?"

Indeed. The signs are there quite clearly for Claire to see that he's used to being coddled - to a degree. He'd not be commander of the Blue Knights unless some qualifications were met. With the bandage wrapped and tied securely with a firm knotting, she nods in confirmation of the hope of no traces in its aftermath. "Some, most bites are gone without any traces. Some depending on the creature, may leave signs of injury, even after the fact. Do you have any other questions?"

Qualifications being born of the right parents. Ho hum. He'd deny that of course. "No, thank you, Mylady.", Sam smiles, "You will be rewarded for your help of course. I hope I haven't troubled you too much and I assure you understand my concern that this remains between you and me?"

Reaching for one of the clean bandages for her own fingers smelling of herbals, Claire's steps turn towards the case with the slightest tilts of her head to one side. "Have you had a habit of healers also being gossips? I shall not mention the injury, of course. And, this is the reason that I am here, is it not? Though, I do hope that having a healer close at hand might encourage you employ one in future outings. One never knows what might transpire. Especially with tensions rising, or so I heard."

Sam reaches for his shirt to get dressed again while he listens to her, though the last remark makes him lift his head and look at her curiously. "May I ask what you have heard, Mylady?"

"Not much. Only that your visit here is due to inspection of the garrisons along the wall," Claire remarks, setting her tools back to rights - or back into place after the impromptu visitor. Not to mention, giving the prince suitable privacy to dress without such an invasion. "There was talk of the corsairs a few months ago, if I am not mistaken."

"Ah that.", Sam replies, looking oddly relieved. He puts his waistcoat on and rises to his feet. "I shall disturb you no longer, Mylady. But I will come and take you to the great hall for dinner in a while." He bows and heads out.

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