Lanisen sits on a chair under a window on the north wall, one leg curled underneath him, engrossed in a book. He’s got a tired, peaky look to him, but for the moment he’s at his ease. The infirmary is otherwise empty except for Stormsbreath, working in peaceful silence down the room.
Chlamash enters through the infirmary door. While he is freshly attired for the day, there is a tired, weary look to him. He doesn’t seem to see Lanisen, looking for the Centaur healer.
Lanisen looks up alertly when the door opens, not so buried in his book that he can easily shut out the world. He relaxes again on recognizing the Tarkaan, but watches curiously.
Chlamash makes his way towards the Centaur, “Master Healer?”
Stormsbreath turns, and bows slightly from the waist. “Chlamash Tarkaan.”
Lanisen stands up and turns toward the door, intending to leave Chlamash his privacy.
Chlamash offers a small bow to the centaur. He produces from the leather pouch at his side a a vial of the kind for sleeping tinctures. “I require more of the same, and let us pray the gods be merciful tonight.”
Lanisen slips out the door, quietly shutting it behind him.
Chlamash doesn’t notice Lanisen leave, being preoccupied with the Centaur. He hears a soft click of the door and turns, but seems to pay little attention to it.
You stand in a corner of the gardens where the courtyard meets the castle’s walls, just outside the door to the Castle Apothecary. The Royal Garden here is dominated by a variety of plants known for their healing properties, including small shrubs of blackberries, various wildflowers and assorted herbs.
The plants are well-tended and the walk is quite aromatic! Beneath your feet is a decorative path which leads south and west away from the walls. South leads to the door to the Great Hall, West leads along the wall and further into the garden, in the general direction of the main gates of Cair Paravel.
Lanisen sits on the bench outside the infirmary door, his book in his lap.
Chlamash exits the infirmary, rubbing a hand across his face. He tucks the vial, one most likely a tincture for sleeping, into the pouch at his waist.
Lanisen glances up from his book.
Chlamash fumbles a little with the pouch before placing the vial in. He closes it and makes his way further into garden. As he passes the bench, he notices Lanisen.
Lanisen stands and bows.
Chlamash nods to Lanisen, “Good Morning.”
Lanisen answers, “Good morning, sir.” His eyes briefly dart to the infirmary door, but he doesn’t ask.
Chlamash follows Lanisen’s glance, “Were you awaiting the master healer? If so, I will not keep you from your errand. I believe he may be available now.”
Lanisen says, “No, sir, I was– I just didn’t want to intrude.”
Chlamash says, “Intrude?” He considers this for a moment before replying, “I see.” His face goes shuttered.
Lanisen blinks, startled by this reaction.
Chlamash looks to Lanisen, “And you… Are you well? I have not seen you of late at the library.”
Lanisen hesitates, a little wary. “I’m– I’m well enough, sir,” he answers. He looks exhausted, actually.
Chlamash nods, “The Master healer has not been been overzealous in his teaching, I trust?”
Lanisen says, “No, sir, not– not at all.”
Chlamash nods. “It is good to hear.” He looks as if he wishes to say more but is uncertain, either of his companion or of himself.
Lanisen’s eyes dart down the path, where somebody is walking, and he rubs his wrists distractedly.
Chlamash follows Lanisen’s gaze, noting a bear guardsman on his way to some errand or something. “Have I unsettled you by my confession? Or…” he adds somewhat reluctantly, “Or some ghost from the past?”
Lanisen looks back at Chlamash. He’s lost for a moment, and then shifts, realizing. “I– No, sir, it’s, I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s not you.”
Chlamash nods and doesn’t seem to be inclined to pry.
Lanisen nods in return, evidently not inclined to share more.
Chlamash says, “I shall leave you to your reading, then, for I had not wished to disturb you. May the gods protect and defend you.” He looks at Lanisen with an expression which might be read as concern or regret before turning towards the entrance towards the outer garden.”
Lanisen bows quickly. He hesitates, then says before Chlamash is quite away, “I hope you get to feelin’ better, sir.”
Chlamash halts as Lanisen speaks. He turns, favoring him with something that wants to be a smile, and nods to him “And you.” He turns quickly on his heel and leaves.