At her rebuttal, Don paused. “…. ain’t got crackers…” he muttered, then smiled. Wait- she was joking…. With a laugh, he punched her roughly in the shoulder. “Ah, right! Got it!” He had a little hop to his step as he continued walking. It was almost admirable, how very little he seemed to be worried. Of course he was absolutely concerned about Aria- she was injured and now feverish. But it was nothing they couldn’t handle! Hell, they’d been through worse and always come out for the better! The gang needed to lighten up…
Aria didn’t go down. It was that simple. She was fine.
And as his seemingly arrogant and bratty little sister departed, he glared after her. Seriously, he knew that they had rooms with futons, so double beds were a luxury she was usually too pissy to afford, but she didn’t have to be so mean about it! He half-heartedly glared sidelong at Ren. “I know how t’use money.” He held out his hand as if dropping something. “See somethin’ y’want, give the money, get the thing. Simple. Yeesh, all y’all make it sound like it’s hard ‘r somethin’….”
…. and this was why he didn’t control the coin purse, and Meg kept it on such tight strings.
And while Don would have volleyed to join Caleb in the hotel, he paused at Ren’s call, the ruffle to his hair. Oh, with her? He smiled. “Sure thing. I got eagle eyes, y’know. I can find ‘em.” He shrugged. “‘sides, not like Ed and Alex don’t stick out everywhere they go. White hair ’n uppity glasses ain’t common neither way.” With a grin, Don got to walking- not calculated or knowingly, but with all the confidence that went with it. Honestly, he was just going to go street by street and hope they came across something…
“Think maybe one’a the vendors’ll know where a doc is?” With a slightly quieter tone, he leaned in to Ren and said in an almost comically loud whisper, “Not that I think we need one. Aria’ll get over it, eh?” Fevers were, after all, pretty common in the family. Dad’d always had a propensity for them, and Aria took after him in a lot of ways. From what Don knew and what Dad’d always said, pump her full of water and she’d be a-okay by morning… Why expend funds on a doctor? And wouldn’t Meg be pissy about it? Like she needed one more thing…
“'Sides, we got Caleb. Why worry?” The amount of faith he had in all of them was nothing if not endearing… and perhaps a bit impractical.
Meanwhile, the smallest Capel’s heart pounded as she slipped through the crowd. Fleet of foot and lithe of form, it was fairly easy for her to navigate much of anywhere she wanted; though, it was significantly more difficult to get merchants to take her seriously. The balking and laughter at her form, her age, and the authority she seemed to hold herself were always so infuriating, as was the way they would dissolve into putty the second she showed her affiliation with Fortune’s Market. Deplorable… Honestly, she knew the market price, and would not pay a single gald higher ( and frankly, she swindled a few of them with a fine for mistreating her… ).
A doctor. What they probably needed was a doctor. Caleb’s interventions weren’t typically followed by inflammation or infection, and his reaction had been nothing short of surprise. Meaning he wasn’t anticipating this. Meaning it wasn’t normal. Meaning…. she had every reason to be more concerned that average. Not to mention…
Her stomach turned at the memory, of the way Aria had gone down, the bleeding- Ducking into a side alley, Meg pressed her back into the wall, heaving a deep breath as she slid to a crouching position. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it- don’t think about how uselessly she let that happen, about the way Don’s eyes accurately accused her, about how leaden and pitiable that blade had felt half-hearted in her grasp, about the blood, the pounding of horror in her veins…
And she was only continuing the trend by shivering in the hidden stretch, chilled despite the heat and bustle of the area. She needed to get ahold of herself, to do what she was good at: get supplies, get to the others, disperse those supplies, wait for the next time she was needed. She was…. well, never much good for anything else…. never…
With a slap to her cheeks that left them red, Meg stood. She was wasting time, effort. Get the hell over her hurt pride and move on- whether they needed her in the grand scheme or not, they needed her now, if only for the bag she carried. That was fine. At least she knew. There was a misplaced fury in her eyes as she skulked out of the alleyway, shoulder-checking ( what was more like hip checking ) a few passers-by in her haste. She’d gathered a few life bottles, some gels, a few more ingredients to at least muddle together some semblance of something edible that Edmund could whip up…. some bandages, some herbs, anything medicinal….
She’d check in at the hotel. Surely Caleb had taken Aria there straight away- he would know whether or not to dispatch her for a doctor. She honestly was just hoping he had some margin of confidence more than her. Nothing against him, but……… could he handle this…? He’d seemed so perplexed, and that in itself worried her in a great many ways.
Not to diminish him, but now wasn’t the time she had the energy to be worried about his confidence when Aria’s well being was at stake. She hurried up the steps to the inn, inquiring at the desk about rooms. They always put the rooms under Lowell- it was just easier that way ( a name people could recognize if they were looking for it, but otherwise inconspicuous, universal to each of them ). The rooms were ordered and paid for, occupants arrived. She hoisted the bag of goods a bit on her shoulder, then trekked along. At the door with the beds instructed for the girls, she rapped her knuckles.
“Spoken like a true costumer,” she said with a grin. Ren wouldn’t claim to be well-versed in the art of money-handling, but she at least knew it wasn’t as simple as Don made it out to be. The imperial knights hired a professional to manage its finances, and it seemed far from an easy task (Ren knew because she peeked—despite her superior’s reprimands.) Needless to say, after seeing a bunch of numbers clutter the otherwise white sheet of paper, Ren swore never to touch anything that had to do with math with a ten-foot pole.
Trying to look into Don’s self-proclaimed ‘Eagle Eyes’ without laughing was a challenge in itself, but she triumphed with a mere grin. “Guess it’s time to put those amazing eyes to work. Hopefully I can keep up with them.”
Ren avoided looking too serious after hearing Don’s assumptions. She was as much of an expert in medical arts as she was in money-handling, so his guess was as good as hers. Still, she placed great faith in Caleb’s confidence when it came to this topic, so for him to ask for a professional’s aid worried her a little…
Well, there was no point in being a downer (not that anything could ever dampen Don’s mood, anyway) and her brother would never let anything happen to Aria of course, so Ren shook it off.
“Caleb probably just wants to confirm something with the doctor. Let the medical know-it-alls talk it out.” She grinned. “As for finding one, maybe Natz can help us with that.” She tapped her chin a few times, bemused. “We have a lot of ground to cover, though. There’s the coliseum, the bleachers, the port, the little market near the inn… yeesh. This is looking more and more like a hassle than I thought. Maybe we should split up.”
Bet Don would choose to search the coliseum.
Caleb garnered the eyes of the entire room upon entering with an injured Aria. The stares were expected (her wounds might have closed, but her clothes were still soaked in blood) then again he was past the point of caring. Aria felt hot to the touch even through her clothes despite looking so pale; she needed to be comfortable—that was all that mattered. So he marched towards the counter and asked for the rooms specified by Meg: double for the boys, queen and double for the girls. Aria gets queen, not negotiable. Caleb silently agreed.
He was grateful that the innkeeper wasn’t dense to the urgency of the situation. She prioritized his booking over the couple that had tried to book before him. He would have apologized, had he not been too tired and too worried to bother, but he proceeded to take Aria to her room without so much as a word, instead.
Finally, he thought when the bed came into view, cozy and with plenty of breathing room. The moment Aria was settled onto it was also the moment Caleb visibly relaxed, and he sat on the edge of the bed with a long, exasperated sigh. His gaze wandered, taking in the sight of the room—it was relatively nice compared to the ones at the coliseum, which were probably more meant for the combatants in the tournament than for travelers wanting a good night’s rest. The room he chose had a nice painting of a willow tree on the wall, albeit a little blurred. Perhaps that was intentional?
Caleb closed his eyes for a bit, massaging his temples. He looked at the painting again. The details were clear this time.
“Right… not a good sign. I can almost hear Ren’s ‘I told you so.’” He rose from the bed and ambled towards it, then took a seat. Better to pass out on a chair instead of Aria’s bed, after all. Who knew what Don or Meg would do.
Meg… he wondered if she was okay. The sight of blood never failed to drain the color from her face. She’d never told anyone, and most likely had no idea that Caleb knew of her fear. How could she when neither of them had brought it up? For someone so young, she was so reserved, so… mature for her age, and the thought saddened him sometimes. So he told her stories--happy ones. Thoughtful ones. Stories that he hoped would inspire the child or wonder in her.
But that wasn’t all, was it?
Only his eyes moved as the door swung open to reveal the object of his recent thoughts. His automatic response was to smile, but faltered upon seeing her look so… tired.