Chapter Text
Aiden was, of course, expecting something to go off-plan. No plan is ever perfect, especially with injured monsters involved. He figured to expect some emotions to get out of hand, hopefully without any physical danger developing. He expected that they would need to take a break or two. But for Sasha’s scent to go sour with pain before he'd actually stepped fully into the room?
Aiden is only a few feet away, he was supposed to stay outside the room at the hallway door until or unless he was needed. So he sees Sasha’s face meet with Ilhan’s armored back.
He steps into the room and has a steadying hand on Sasha's elbow before he's finished his initial wince of pain.
“Ah, oh, sorry-” Sasha cradles his nose. “Oh, well, I don't think I've broken anything at least.”
“Let me see,” Aiden gently turns Sasha's face up and towards him to get a better look.
“You should tilt your head forward, not backward.”
Aiden and Sasha both freeze for a moment and look across the room to the woman on the bed speaking to them.
She's smaller than Aiden was picturing, with a paleness to her parlor that confirms the blood loss he's been told of. Her eyes are kind, and even through the near-overwhelming stench of pain and injury, she does smell of a small amount of concern.
“If there is any blood, you don't want it draining down your throat,” Jagoda, adds helpfully. “And you should let me look at that foot, I heard something crunch when you dropped that chair.”
“Oh, ah, but- they are already sending for a healer mage,” Ilhan waves back at the hallway where a runner is indeed hurrying away down the hall.
“It'll take her a while to get here.” Jagoda beckons Ilhan and pats the space on the bed next to her. “I remember how surprisingly fast you heal. Let me make sure there aren't any misplaced bones at least.”
Ilhan awkwardly shuffle-hops over to the bed and hesitates for a moment, but Jagoda just reaches out and half-guides, half-pulls him to sit next to her.
Aleksander huffs a quiet laugh under his breath at the absurdity of small Jagoda man-handling a Witcher as tall as Ilhan into extending his leg towards her properly.
Aiden hears the other door creak slightly open and sees Lambert peering through at him. He raises an eyebrow.
Aiden signs to him a signal to wait. Lambert nods and silently retreats, shutting the door again.
“I am alright, I think,” Sasha pats Aiden's hand gently. “Would you mind righting that chair for me?”
“Uh, yeah, I got it.” Aiden steps into the room a bit more and picks the chair up. He sets it down carefully.
Jagoda's not even looking at him. She's fussing over Ilhan’s now bare foot, gently angling it this way and that, asking him to tell her which hurts. And Ilhan's just letting her- he's smiling. Sure, his scent has a little edge of pain to it, but it's mostly happiness and- Aiden takes a deeper breath- gratitude? Fondness?
“Miss Jagoda, you say you remember him healing quickly?” Sasha asks, “Have you two met before?”
Ilhan laughs at that and reaches up to brush his hair back, holding it up to show the rather large scar he has running from his left eyebrow back into his hair line.
“She's who saved my life six years ago- when I almost cracked my skull clean in half,” Ilhan turns back to Jagoda, “Although, I had forgotten your name, or I probably wouldn't have been shocked enough to drop that chair.”
“I'm surprised you remember me at all,” Jagoda smiles up at him for a moment before returning her attention to his rapidly swelling foot, “You were quite thoroughly concussed.”
“I've always been pretty good with faces.” Ilhan grins as he relaxes and reclines back a bit to lean against one of the posts of the bed. “I've actually been trying to find you- ever since really. Been taking every patrol in Temeria I could for the past handful of years.”
“Hold on- don't move your foot now, okay? I need to press one of the bones back into alignment, and it'll hurt.”
Ilhan nods and takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, “Alright.”
Aiden can hear the small crack. Ilhan doesn't flinch or move at all, but his scent spikes with renewed pain. Sasha looks away, turning towards Aiden.
“Are you joining us in here?” Sasha asks him calmly.
Aiden glances over at the bed, where Ilhan is still smiling at Jagoda and trusting her to touch him, to slightly wound him. And watches her requite that trust, gathering some of her own pillows to prop Ilhan's foot on to hold it in the right position as his Witcher healing sets in.
“Yeah, I think I'll watch from inside.” Aiden tells him quietly. Sasha nods and turns and straightens his shoulders.
“Well, it would seem slightly less introductions are needed. As Miss Jagoda, you have already met Ilhan of the Cranes. I am Aleksander of Kaer Morhen, and this is Aiden of the Cats.” Sasha gives her a slight bow.
Jagoda nods back at Sasha, then glances at Aiden and looks him up and down.
“I am here on behalf of King Griffin, Queen Marika, and the White Wolf, to ask you some questions so that we may best proceed forward from this unlikely and unique scenario we find ourselves in.” Sasha continues.
Jagoda’s gaze snaps back to Sasha at the mention of the White Wolf. Her shoulders hunch a little and her whole body goes tense.
Sasha sits in the chair and masterfully relaxes his court-ready posture into something far more casual.
“Before I ask anything, I wish to extend and express the gratitude the King and Queen have for you and your actions. The White Wolf is likewise grateful for the safeguarding of the young prince Eric and his carer, Maeven.”
Jagoda frowns at that. Not the reaction Aiden was expecting. And her scent is rapidly filling with apprehension and fear.
“Genuinely grateful,” Ilhan interjects. “The Wolf is kin-by-marriage, by our customs, to the Queen Marika. The prince was named after him, in a fashion.”
Jagoda just stares at Ilhan, her scent swapping to confusion and uncertainty.
“I didn't know that,” Jagoda says, her voice now hesitant and halting in a way it wasn't when she was examining Ilhan. “I didn't even know he was the prince. Not ‘til after.”
Ilhan tilts his head to the side. “Would it have mattered?”
“No.” Jagoda replies simply, and it smells like the truth.
“Miss Jagoda,” Sasha clears his throat, “Where would you like to finish your recovery?”
Jagoda just looks at Sasha, still smelling confused.
“Ah, to put it another way- are you comfortable in these rooms? I am given to understand that you have been staying in a room in an annex, on the far side of the pond in palace gardens. Would you perhaps feel more comfortable if you were housed there instead?”
Jagoda stares at him.
Sasha smiles more, “Or perhaps you would like to be housed in a different suite in the palace? Closer to Madam Ruth's apartments? Or-”
“I want to leave,” Jagoda blurts out.
Sasha blinks at her. “Oh, do you have a residence in the city? Or one of the outlying towns?”
Jagoda swallows roughly, “I want to leave, and not be followed… nor tracked, nor hunted."
“Oh, um, that's not- no one's looking to hunt you, Miss Jagoda. Um,” Sasha clears his throat again. “Perhaps we have not been clear about what we mean when we say we are grateful.”
“The royal family and the White Wolf wish to thank you, even maybe grant you honors, and certainly mean to accommodate your recovery. No one means you harm for your actions.”
Jagoda frowns again, but her scent and expression both shift into showing the tiniest bit of hope.
“Then I am not being kept here? Not- I mean- I could leave right now? And no Witcher or guard or soldier would stop me?”
“Not by force, no. Although I am fairly certain a good number of people would try to reason with you to stay and spend more time healing.” Sasha explains. “I was told you are not recovered enough to safely walk across this room, let alone travel beyond the city.”
There is a long moment where Jagoda thinks. She glances around, to Ilhan then Aiden and then to the door Lambert is standing behind, then to the still open hallway-door.
“I would like to go back to my room in the annex.”
Sasha nods and smiles, “We shall arrange it.”