ataraxionlogs | 02 ▒ EVENT: STASIS SICKNESS ▒ MEDBAY

[ You do everything, and he almost laughs because of how untrue it is. There is much that he cannot do. He could not save the Rangers who died under orc swords and orc arrows under his command. He could not save Boromir as he laid in Amon Hen. He could not save Theoden King as he died on the battlefields of Pelennor. He could not relieve Frodo of his great burden. He could not assure Legolas that he would not one day be left alone, heart hollowed as his friends die around him.

He could not heal this damn disease. ]

I am a Ranger. [ Simply, because for Aragorn, that explains all his skin.

Aragorn wipes at his own eyes for a moment. His hands are gloved to better hide the blue that stained them, but nothing can hide the blue that stains his eyes. But he removes his glove for a moment, reaching out and placing his hand against Miles's forehead. ]

There is little I can do for the vertigo. [ As he speaks, coolness and relief spreads from his hand to Miles's skin, spreading outwards and turning to warmth when it reaches his lungs and heart, giving him strength. ] But for fever, nausea and weakness, I have solutions.

[ He eventually drops his hand, pulling his glove back on. A healer's art is in his own strength, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. ]

'Tis athelas tea you hold in your hand. It will help with the weakness.

[There's a moment where he genuinely does feel better, and Miles' eyes half-close with relief. How soothing it is, to have someone touch one's forehead - strangely so. He's not felt that since he was very small. Von Karma, of course, was not so sentimental as that, and doctors aren't going to do something like that...

Like -

He jerks back, his eyes gone suddenly wide as it sinks in that somehow this man touched him and that altered him in some way. And that was no illusion. He knows it wasn't. His eyes are gone wide, and his lips are twisted in wariness and distrust as he prepares to push away from his chair.]

What did you just do to me?

[ It is not a reaction that is unexpected, though it seems Aragorn has grown complacent. For a Man who has shown so much disdain towards spirits and all that he cannot see, Aragorn should have expected him to have an adverse reaction to a healer's touch - to something he cannot explain, except to open his own palms, and call them the hands of a healer.

(The hands of a King.

Aragorn remembers the moments after Pelennor, when his hands and herbs had to bring Eowyn and Faramir and Merry all back to life, so that they breathe again. He had only cloth and clean water and athelas- and his own hands and his own strength, giving it all to them to pull them back from the Shadow.

Imrahil had told him since that it was then that the soldiers believed that he is the King Returned. It was the legend of the healer-king; not merely the army of Oathbreakers he had on his back as he charged across the battlefields.)

He turns around to look Miles in the eyes, firm and fearless with nothing to hide. ]

Given you strength. [ He keeps his voice soft. ] For you had need of it.

I am little like the doctors here, for though I stand in this bay the machines are all strange to me. I am a healer, and with my hands I heal. Naught more.

[And Miles just stares. He's encountered things already on this ship that are...strange - beyond his previous comprehension. So he doesn't disbelieve that is indeed what went on, because at this moment he really is suspending his disbelief with regards to pretty much everything. No - that's not what gives him pause. Rather - ]

I don't - You'll ask me before you do anything again. [And maybe his voice is just a little too raw. Maybe there's just a little too much emotion in it, because for some reason that touch on his forehead feels to him at this moment no different from just being pulled here, away from his home, from everything he'd ever known, and he just wants to go back there where he knows his place and he knows the city and he knows what he's to do and he's just not struggling blindly and alone -

He shakes his head.]

Understood? If anyone is going to decide that I'm lacking in strength, it will be me and me alone.

[ His patience has been trained throughout eighty-seven years. With Arwen he has met her when he was but twenty, and waited over two decade with the barest thread of hope and a single memory of her face before he sees her again. He does not lose his temper easily - there has only been one Man in his entire lifetime who incurs his ire, who makes him raise his voice and cause sharp words to jump from his throat. The thought of that Man now has now calmed, and he relaxes the hand at his side that immediately clenched. ]

Aye. [ Softly, and he steps back slightly before he leaves the medbay bed and his own countertop. There are plenty of more modern medicines along the other side, and Aragorn has watched the other doctors through what little free time he had to know which to be used for which. He picks up a few small pills - so much like the ones that Godric had once given him, except different in colours and shapes - before he goes back to Miles.

He places them in front of him. ]

These [ points to the left ] will be for fevers and headaches, while these [ he points to the other ] will alleviate the nausea. [ He smiles slightly, from one side of his lips. ]

I would give you willowbark and ginger, but I doubt you will believe in their ability to heal.

[ For you seem so skeptical about my own hand, and you have felt its effects yourself. ]

[Miles frowns in response to that smile.]

Of course I believe in their ability to heal. They've been scientifically proven. Willowbark is - Here. [He sets aside the tea and rises and searches a moment to find a medicine kit up on the wall with a box of pockets of aspirin pills within. He tries hard to ignore the fact that he's better able to move now as he points to the box.] This drug here, aspirin, was synthesized from willowbark. It has the same acid which gives willow its anti-inflammatory properties. If you want to replicate its effects, you can use these pills, but take note that you use them in much smaller amounts; they're much more concentrated than the bark you're used to, and like anything, too much of it can be toxic.

[He goes back and sits back down and thinks about how stupid he himself is. What's the point of all of this? Does he truly think that this man is going to listen to him - this man who calls him child and sneers about his ignorance? This man who listens to no one if they don't genuflect to him first?]

And ginger has remarked-upon properties for relieving nausea. I hold with that general opinion myself.

[ Aragorn can only watch, surprised not only by the information that Miles gives but also but the light in his eyes, in the way it all spills from him as if he's eager to show someone that he knows something- that the other person is wrong about his ignorance. It gladdens his heart to see this boy already feeling better, having the strength and heart to speak calmly instead of only in anger, in the hurt, raw voice. He cannot help but smile - and it's a genuine expression. One that he has not the chance to use much since this whole strange nightmare has begun. ]

Even the mildest of medicines can harm, when taken in too great amounts. [ His voice is contemplative and soft, and though he can still feel the dizziness and the spiking pain in his throat and his nose from the disease, he lifts his eyes and fixes Edgeworth with the gaze. ]

There is much here that I do not yet know. I had once accused you of knowing little of medicine, but- [ before he continues, the vertigo slams into him like high tide upon the shore, and Aragorn stops speaking and grabs onto the counter so tight that his knuckles are white. He closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath, ducking his head down to shake his head hard to clear the spots from his eyes.

Then he straightens back up and lifts his shoulders into a small shrug. Though his smile remains, the edges are a little weak, showing his exhaustion. ]

But it seems I was wrong. [ Distract the patient, distract the patient... ]

Do you know of the origins of other pills here?

[The expression on Miles' face is very rarely anything other than a frown. He'd been wearing a frown when he'd spoken, and he'd been wearing a frown when he sat, and so he was already wearing a frown when Strider had started to speak about his accusations. The frown turns into a scowl, though, as soon as the man falters in his speech - a scowl not of disapproval, but of worry. (Miles is glad, of course, that the two sentiments are generally indistinguishable on his face.)

He stands again.]

Sit down.

[For a moment he considers snarling at him a harsh Before you collapse, which would be rather satisfying, admittedly - condescending, like an adult speaking to a child. But a battle of egos will probably not end with the idiot sitting, and it's probably a sign of Miles' fundamental weakness of character that his worry will almost always win out over his pride. So instead, his explanation for his command is this:]

It will take me a moment to find a few, and it makes no sense for you to stand around waiting.

[ What does it say of a healer when he has to take his patient's advice about his own health? Aragorn smiles wryly before he nods, turning away to grab one of those strange, metallic, foldable chairs that are littered all over the medbay. He unfolds it and drops himself onto it, ducking his head down so that he can rub at his eyes slightly. The ink must have some kind of adverse effects, he thinks, because his hands bleed easily when he does not wear gloves, and his eyes hurt.

He waits for Miles to go and to return with his eyes closed, but when he hears the footsteps approaching, he opens his eyes again, rocking his body backwards until his back is straight against the chair, and he gives the other man a smile. ]

You speak harshly, yet 'tis for your own kindness that you do. [ He keeps his voice low. ] Wherefore you use such harsh words, such that all those who hear balk at listening, when your purpose can be so much easier reached with gentle ones?

[Miles looks up from setting the bottles of pills on the counter with a ferocious glare.]

It is not kindness.

[He tucks his chin stubbornly towards his chest.]

I am not kind, and I am not gentle. You would be fool indeed to forget that.

[And then he lifts his chin again.] These three here - aspirin, acetaminophen, and ibuprofen - are all a class of drugs called NSAIDs, which stands for non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. You give them for mild pain and swelling. They typically don't have many adverse effects; it takes a lot to overdose on them, and they don't really have side effects.

[And Miles glances down at Strider's hands and frowns.]

Have your nail-beds been bleeding?

[ Nay, I would be a fool to take you only of your word of yourself, and blind my eyes to all else that you say and do. Nay, I was a fool indeed to believe that you are in any way simplistic at all.

He looks at the three different drugs, committing their strange, long names to memory- and at Miles' question, he looks at his own hands, and he chuckles. ]

'Tis but minor.

[ He pauses, then chuckles quietly before he takes Miles's abandoned cup of athelas tea and pushes it into his hand. ]

You are the patient, Miles, and though I appreciate the concern greatly, my health is of little consequence at the moment. We should look at yours.

[Miles waves that comment aside, putting his tea on the lab bench and picking up a box of band-aids.]

Mine is taken care of. Give me your hand.

[He pulls out one of the band-aids and unwraps it from the package.]

This is a self-adhering bandage. For minor wounds. Nowadays, you don't have to bandage wounds by tying them tightly, but instead simply using adhesive bandages such as this. Indeed, quite often you don't even need to use stitches on wounds. This will help to prevent infections and catch any discharge.

[ Aragorn takes the band-aid himself and wraps it around his own finger. It looks enough like a bandage to know how to use it, and he immediately reaches out, taking both of Miles's hands in his own. ]

Enough. [ Softly, but firmly. ] I understand your intentions, Miles Edgeworth, but you are spending the strength you need for your quest needlessly by fussing over me.

[ His eyes narrow, and his gaze turns piercing suddenly. ]

You intend to continue on and not linger here, do you not?

[Miles's expression is momentarily blank with surprise when Strider grasps his hands, and then his brows furrow very slightly with just a hint of concern. His face, for a few moments, doesn't have its usual haughty, distant reserve; instead, he just looks uncertain, as though he really doesn't know how to comport himself when someone is touching him.]

Of...course I do. So long as I have strength enough to continue on, it's my responsibility to do so. Indeed, until such a time as I collapse, I'll not give up. I said that I did not intend to see anyone perish, and I mean that.

[ He recognises that by now, the uncertainty that Miles has with people who touch him, and Aragorn wonders once more about this boy- this boy who acts so much like a man but who is still undeniably a boy. He bites down slightly on the inside of his own cheek as he squeezes Miles's hands slightly, smiling at him. ]

Then you will need strength to help youin your task. [ Softly. ] If you must work until you fall, then I will ensure that you keep yourself upright until you are finished.

[ He pulls back and stands up, going towards his counter and transferring a few leaves into a small envelope. He then folded it into half and placed it in from of Miles. ]

[Miles frowns down at that envelope, but does pick it up. He's still not sure what to make of all that...contact. Was Strider somehow making fun...No; he can come up with no reason for it.]

What is this?

Athelas.

[ Aragorn's smile is small as he looks at Miles. ] 'Tis a herb from my world. Steep it in hot water and drink it, and it will ease your ills.

[Miles nods, then asks with just the slightest bit of self-consciousness:]

And it would help anyone who were to drink it?

[ Aragorn nods. ]

Aye. It would.

[So he does tuck it into his pocket.]

And will it help with injuries, or only illness?

With injuries, crush the leaves and place them over the wound.

[ He looks at Edgewort for a long moment. ]

Keep safe.

[He crosses his arms and eyes Strider in return. The set of his lips is severe.]

I should be saying that to you. Collapse, and you'll be no use to anyone whatsoever. So pace yourself, and take care of yourself, or else you'll end up being a disservice to others.

02 ▒ EVENT: STASIS SICKNESS ▒ MEDBAY

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