Chapter Text
Healing is exhausting.
Jagoda has never been so grateful to be able to sleep so readily. She does not want to talk to anyone else, she does not want to think about anything. And in sleep, she finds a small respite. She does not dream.
Waking is painful.
She thinks it is early, but it is hard to tell as the room she is in has no windows. The fire has been banked in the hearth, and there is only one person in the room with her now. A different guard stands at the door to the Queen's room.
She hisses through her teeth as she carefully shifts her weight.
The new guard reaches over to a side table and rings a small bell. The far door opens and Anka comes hurrying into the room.
She helps Jagoda stand and use the chamber pot before guiding her back on to the bed. She fetches her a small cup of water and puts it away again once Jagoda has had her fill.
Jagoda isn't sure if she wants to know if Ruth came back or not. She doesn't ask.
Anka helps her pull the blankets back over herself and then quietly lets herself back out of the room.
Sleep reaches for her again and Jagoda lets it take her under.
When she next wakes, she hears people talking nearby. Some wandering conversation about a meal? Or a dish? She is groggy and finds focusing hard.
Her limbs don't feel overly cold for the first time since all of this started. Which is a welcome improvement. And if she stays exactly still, the pain from her back remains at a dull hum, rather than arcing spears.
The longer she lays still, the more she can make sense of the conversations in the adjacent rooms.
...🌙…
“-to thank you again. I do apologize for being a poor substitute for the White Wolf.”
Aleksander sets his empty tea cup down and nods politely to the serving girl who whisks it away with the rest of the tray.
Marika shakes her head slightly while smiling, “Enough of that, we are glad to host you and are eager to hear your insights.”
“Quite.” Griffin nods, “I heard from Ismet that you were instrumental in guiding the Wolf and his council towards their current, very merciful, plans for handling wayward mages of the realm.”
Aleksander blushes slightly and tries to wave away the praise. “I am only glad that my efforts were able to serve the Wolf and his lands.”
They all casually wait for the last of the servants to clear the trays and dishes of their tea, and fully leave the room, before speaking again.
Aleksander clears his throat, “Now, as I understand, Miss Jagoda is currently housed in the antechamber, which is connected through your personal chambers, your Majesty.”
“That is correct,” Marika glances back over her shoulder in the direction.
“Are any of these rooms enchanted against eavesdropping?”
“Not to our knowledge,” Griffin looks at Marika and she shakes her head.
“I am sure it is somewhere on a very long to-do list of magical requests.”
Aleksander nods, “Right then. I propose we either move this conversation to a separate wing of the palace if we wish to be assured of our privacy, or we move into the antechamber itself and formally include Miss Jagoda. As I know a Witcher would be able to listen in at such a distance, and thus we can probably safely assume Miss Jagoda could as well.”
Marika inhales sharply. “I- had not thought to assume such.”
Aiden and Lambert both tense. They each stand up straighter from where they had been leaning against the far wall.
“Is that a reasonable assumption?” Griffin turns to ask the Witchers.
Aiden shrugs, “Probably. Certainly when werewolves are in their animal forms they have senses to rival a Witcher.”
Lambert just scowls at the far door.
Marika looks between Lambert and Aleksander and Griffin.
“Will we be able to have a calm and collected conversation with Miss Jagoda?”
Lambert sucks in a harsh breath.
“What, did she get aggressive before?” Aiden asks, knocking an arm against Lambert's.
“No, not until I pissed her off, and even then, she wasn't actually aggressive.” Lambert admits while Marika stares sternly at him. “Just angry.”
Aiden raises an eyebrow at him. Lambert sighs.
“The whole room smells like injured werewolf.”
“Really? Even now?” Aiden looks surprised.
“Why would you not expect it to?” Aleksander prompts him.
“Well, unless they're in their animal forms, werewolves don't smell like werewolves.”
“They do when you stab them with silver.” Lambert points out.
“Yeah, but only for as long as the blade is in them.”
“Her stitches are silver,” Marika tells them. “Ruth used material from one of my necklaces and an earring to tend to her, while we were weathering the assault.”
Aiden and Lambert both exchange a look.
“That would do it.” Aiden scrunches his nose. “A calm discussion might be harder than it sounds.”
Aleksander tilts his head to the side and Aiden goes on to explain.
“The only time I have ever had to deal with the smell of an injured werewolf is when I have been fighting one to the death. Smelling it today, even out of battle, would not… not invoke calmness.”
“The exact fucking opposite.” Lambert agrees.
“Likewise, the sight of a Witcher seems to have a terrifying effect on Miss Jagoda.” Marika adds.
Aleksander purses his lips in thought for a moment. He looks over at Aiden, and before he can even open his mouth, Aiden is shaking his head.
“You're not talking to her without a Witcher guard.”
“No,” Aleksander agrees, “I wasn't going to suggest that. I was going to ask if either of you can think of a Witcher who is currently here in the palace that might be able to remain calm within Miss Jagoda's presence. Or simply if there are any Witchers here who are particularly known for their patience.”
...🌙…
Ilhan is happy enough for another break from the archival room. He listens intently as Lambert briefs him on the situation. And yeah, he does think he can keep his cool even while actively surrounded by the scent of an injured monster, especially as he can go into the room knowing what to expect.
So he follows along, nods along as Aiden and Lambert plan which of them will be waiting behind which door as back-up, and smiles along as Aleksander and the King and Queen each formally introduce themselves to him.
He takes the time to purposely even out his breathing and heart rate, something he would do when on long watches at sea. It is not a true meditation, but something that Cranes in particular are trained in. A way to stay calm even when in particularly harrowing conditions, like being caught in the middle of a raging storm on a boat. He knows several of his brothers also use it to blunt their senses when their smithies and workshops get loud and crowded with other Cranes.
Ilhan does suspect, if he had not been in his maintained calm state while he walked into Jagoda's room, he might've done something very ill-advised like shouting or running right up to her.
As he was in his calmed state, Ilhan only stopped dead mid stride- causing Aleksander to slam painfully face-first into his armored back- and dropped the heavy chair he was carrying into the room onto his own feet.
To be fair, Jagoda looks just as shocked to see him.