Galen bowed his head in respectful acknowledgement of his King's orders. He waited until Orm had taken his leave before attempting any further examinations, hoping that by doing so he might avoid the royal's ire. It had been odd seeing him react so strongly to the woman's cries, but Galen tried not to dwell on it as he mulled over possible treatments. Though he had served the King for several years he was by no means the man's confidant, and he did not pretend otherwise. Beckoning to the assistant lingering in the doorway he shook his head and got to work. It was not his job to question the importance the woman had to Orm: he was only there to heal her.
It took several days to get the Selkie back on her feet - if one could call it that. Her injuries had been minimal. Lacerations where knives had sliced too deep, scrapes and bruises from the nets. All of them easily treated with simple antibiotics and a few bandages. But there was damage caused by the taking of her pelt that could not be fixed by medical means, and the evidence of it was heartbreaking to behold. Galen was still haunted by the memory of her devastated sobs when they had finally managed to convince her that the cape she had been wrapped in was not her sealskin. She had been nearly silent since then, offering little more than distant murmurs and obedience when he or the nurses tended to her.
A week and a half passed in the blink of an eye. All too soon Galen found that he had run out of reasons to keep her confined to the small chambers she had been hidden in. She would need time to heal from the mental trauma, time that he did not have to spare. There were other duties, other patients, that needed his attention. And, as Orm's semi-frequent visits had reminded him, at the end of the day she was not his to shelter indefinitely.
He had to repeat that to himself as he watched her from the corner of his eye while they waited for the King to arrive. She still looked so pathetic and small. Whatever Orm had planned for her, Galen only hoped it would be simple and easy.
no subject
It took several days to get the Selkie back on her feet - if one could call it that. Her injuries had been minimal. Lacerations where knives had sliced too deep, scrapes and bruises from the nets. All of them easily treated with simple antibiotics and a few bandages. But there was damage caused by the taking of her pelt that could not be fixed by medical means, and the evidence of it was heartbreaking to behold. Galen was still haunted by the memory of her devastated sobs when they had finally managed to convince her that the cape she had been wrapped in was not her sealskin. She had been nearly silent since then, offering little more than distant murmurs and obedience when he or the nurses tended to her.
A week and a half passed in the blink of an eye. All too soon Galen found that he had run out of reasons to keep her confined to the small chambers she had been hidden in. She would need time to heal from the mental trauma, time that he did not have to spare. There were other duties, other patients, that needed his attention. And, as Orm's semi-frequent visits had reminded him, at the end of the day she was not his to shelter indefinitely.
He had to repeat that to himself as he watched her from the corner of his eye while they waited for the King to arrive. She still looked so pathetic and small. Whatever Orm had planned for her, Galen only hoped it would be simple and easy.