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[gabriel_tam]

The room is fairly nice, all things considered. There are several chairs, a porta-cot set up discreetly against one wall for visitors that for one reason or another are reluctant to leave, and it's clear that whoever designed this particular private room in the first place intended to make it seem as warm and welcoming as possible.

Of course, given that it's a hospital, there's really only so much that can be done.

Currently, the hospital bed is tilted upwards at an angle, with the evident intention of making the patient comfortable. It seems to be working, at least a little, because Gabriel Tam is asleep.

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[gabriel_tam]

"Simon."

He's disoriented, and despite that is visibly pulling himself together, trying to clear his head. Gabriel smiles, a little.

"Well, in that case -- gāoxìng jìandào nĭ, Miss Yuna."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

She bows, fairly deeply, her hands moving in the curves of the rite of prayer.

He's a maester among his own people, in a sense, and an elder, after all. "I'm very pleased to meet you." She leans her staff against the wall. "And to tell you that there doesn't seem to be any lingering magical harm. Only the physical wounds, and those are healing."

"You were poisoned," she tells him; it's odd coming from her youthful face, but it's the half-reproving informational tone of any nurse or doctor telling you you tore your stitches or broke your leg. Next time be more careful.

[gabriel_tam]

Something tightens in Gabriel's face, drawing it into harsh lines that make him look even older than he is.

"Poisoned?"

He lifts one hand, seemingly unaware that he's doing it, and rubs at his chest as he looks to his son.

"Simon?"

[simon_doctor]

He nods. "There was something in the wounds -- it's taken care of. There's no residue."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

There's something wistful in her face as she watches the looks passing between them; as she notes the points of resemblance and echoes of motion.

"It's all healing very cleanly," she repeats. "And in my world, at least," she adds, aiming for a light tone, "a few scars are considered very distinguished, for a man of a certain age."

[gabriel_tam]

"Considering, then, that I have age, distinguished status of a sort, and now quite a few scars as well, I should regard myself as quite lucky."

Gabriel's tone is dryly amused.

There's a darkness in his eyes that says differently, but he sounds sincere enough, at least.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

Yuna does not look at Simon now; neither does she look around for his (Guardian) bodyguard, although she's aware of the absence, assuredly.

"I could offer you healing," she says, speaking calmly and without the hesitancy that sometimes marks her language. "But I understand it might be be difficult to explain. But still, it's your choice."

And not anyone else's, now that he's awake enough to make it.

[simon_doctor]

Simon does glance around for Galadan. He's not there.

He steps back and closes the door to the room, carefully.

(Any hospital staff passing by, or coming in about their duties, don't need to hear this.)

[gabriel_tam]

"...I'm not sure I understand," he says carefully.

[simon_doctor]

Simon's tone is very nearly as careful. "Yuna has ... certain resources available to her that our medical science doesn't. I had intended to take full advantage of thosat possibility when we first brought you in, but --"

His speech slows, and his enunciation grows a trifle more precise: "Galadan thought it would lead to trouble later if, if you were seen to be injured and then shortly thereafter seen with no traces of the injury."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"I've had to do the same thing myself," she adds. "I've come into the bar injured, and if I returned healed without time passing, my Guardians would notice."

She touches her staff, not yet picking it up. "I'm a healer," she says. "In my world we call it white magic, tofortify and heal the body and spirit, and ward them from evil influence."

[gabriel_tam]

"I... think I remember hearing him say something of the sort," he says slowly. "In any case, Galadan was right. It's not the sort of thing that could be easily explained."

There's something shuttered about his glance, though, as he looks at Yuna.

"Although it's certainly gracious of you to offer, perhaps you might better save your efforts for those who are more deserving of it."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"Oh, but you mustn't be so humble!" she protests. "You're a leader of your people, a public servant and a symbol of their hopes and good order. You are more deserving, because your life is spent in service, and because when people see that you are safe and well, it makes them feel safe and well."

"I understand," she adds quickly, "that your world doesn't have magic, and it would be hard to explain. But you deserve it, at least."

[gabriel_tam]

"That's not... actually what I meant."

In service. Something in Gabriel's expression twists, as if from sudden pain.

"I'd not be here if you weren't a good man," Prior Fell had told him. "What matters now is what you do next."

He'd taken those words -- the words of an angel, he knows now -- to heart, and done what he could to live by them.

Until the day when a different, avenging angel had showed up (been sent?) to kill him, he had thought --

--well, that doesn't matter now, does it?

"It doesn't matter," Gabriel says aloud.

[simon_doctor]

He assumed the more deserving was a gracious social lie, the kind both his parents do so much better than he's ever been able to.

Something in his face, now, and in his words --

"Dad, it's up to you," he says, trying not to sound overly concerned. Overly alarmed.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

Yuna frowns, wondering if the conversation is taxing him too much or if something is worsening, and her fingers begin to close around the staff, preparing to employ the Sensor magic again--but she halts at the sound of Simon's voice.

She doesn't know these people very well, she realizes. But something seems to be hanging in the air, here.

[gabriel_tam]

"Not entirely."

Gabriel meets his son's eyes. "Can we honestly afford the sort of scrutiny that would be directed at us, if I were to get up and walk out of here without any sign of injury?"

As an aside to Yuna,

"That is what you're proposing? I've understood you correctly?"

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"You've been scarred," she says, without any trace of her earlier lightness. She picks up the staff, and again views him through the lattice work of the head. It would be simply odd, if the magic didn't throw shifting blue and red shadows on her face; as it is, it's slightly eerie.

"Looking again--I think it's in your lungs. I can't be sure. Your vitality will never be what it was, and you'll always be vulnerable, now, to certain kinds of harm that weren't as dangerous before. I can't change that."

"But yes, I can heal most of it, as if it had had time to heal naturally, but much more quickly." She frowns again. "I didn't mean to press you, and I apologize if I spoke out of turn. I do understand why."

"But you do deserve it, even if you can't have it." Most people's first impression of Yuna is a docile and pleasant child. But there's a stubborn streak a mile wide in any summoner.

[simon_doctor]

He wants to repeat those last words; wants to make sure they're believed.

(you're worth it)

"It's up to you," he repeats instead, very low.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"Wait," she says.




Her voice is different. It's lower, for one thing, and flat. "What did this to him?" She's still looking through the Sensor.

There's something here. Something subtle. Something--something like something she's seen before.

[gabriel_tam]

His reaction is very, very clear.

Gabriel tenses, every muscle tightening. Pain sears through him, and bitterly, he almost welcomes it.

There's a long, long silence, and then,

"An angel. Of vengeance."

His voice is hoarse, and the few words flat, and utterly bleak.

[simon_doctor]

"...what?"

Simon's voice is altogether too sharp.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"I don't know what that is," she murmurs. She's not putting the staff down; her eyes move, trying to read a map that shifts and changes with every heartbeat.

"But I believe you about the vengeance." Somewhere--probably inside her head--thunder rolls.

"I've seen burns like these before. Not exactly like them, but close enough. Fire that consumes utterly, and leaves taint and poison behind it, subtle and deep-rooted."

"Simon's seen it, too."

[simon_doctor]

His gaze flicks to her, puzzled for a moment, then darkening with understanding.

"At the Temple," he says. "After the battle."

[gabriel_tam]

"You heard me."

Just as flatly as before, but Gabriel's expression is darkening now.

"What battle?"