Private Interlude by Lanternlight

[Amnesty Greysoul]

It was late in the evening when Amnesty found her way to the infirmary again after discharging the rest of her duties, and her body ached as she deposited her armful of various herbs, ingredients, and bottles beside the well-used mortar and pestle that already stood atop the table there. Less than a month aboard this grand vessel, and it was already plainly evident that her stores of her most commonly used tinctures, compresses, and remedies were not sufficient to the task of keeping a whole ship’s worth of crew in decently good health.

Not for the long term. They had done well enough for the short term, but every time another crewbeast had come in with a headache or queasiness or a bloodied limb in need of something to keep it from growing gangrenous, she had watched the stockpile she had once imagined to be more than big enough dwindle at an alarming rate. And that was setting aside all the supplies that Dr. Barrett himself kept properly stocked. Technically, hers were extra additions to the ship’s inventory.

At least she still had plenty of the raw leaves, roots, flowers, seeds and the like to renew her stores. Upon coming aboard she had imagined she was overpacked. How wrong she had been. Now it was simply a matter of finding the time to turn those raw ingredients into medicines that were ready to use when needed, which required a nigh impossible convergence of events: seas that were calm enough for her to work, a night free of crewbeasts attempting to accidentally maim themselves, and duties that finished early enough in the evening that she still had the energy to work when they were done.

The last was only mostly true, she supposed, but aching back and bleary eyes aside, her paws were adept enough to the task at hand. And so, by the warm light of a lantern with the steady thrum of the steam engine and the even rock of the waves, Amnesty got to work.

@Arthur Barrett

 

[Arthur Barrett]

The sea had long exhausted her rage, and for some time, The Golden Hide had sailed with considerable ease. Down in the belly of the ship, oaken beams cradled the infirmary with the thick scent of oak, tar, and vinegar. Warm steam rose from vents in the floor, with a small window cracked open to keep the infirmary from becoming a sauna. Above deck, the ship's bell rang out in three muted pairs, followed by a lone final toll. The last bell hung in the air with some anticipation -- only half an hour until relief would come from the next shift.

The flicker of another lantern joined Amnesty's. Quietly, Arthur slipped into the infirmary, his bare footpaws quiet among the gentle creak of timbers. Though Arthur was technically on call at all hours, his duties came with the luxury of being exempt from the watch system. He'd retired early after dinner that evening, though it seemed he hadn't yet slept. The marten looked to have just gotten out of his bunk. He wore a plain linnen shirt and a tidy pair of night breeches -- but he looked unusually unkempt in his sleep wear. His fur was disheveled, as one having trouble sleeping.

"Still up?" he rumbled with quiet affection, surveying the vixen's work. Crossing the room, he fetched a copper kettle from a hook, and filled it with fresh water, before setting it on the infirmary's stove. "Tea?" he asked kindly, setting out a cup and saucer for himself, and another for Amnesty. As the water boiled, the marten fetched a key from his pocket, and withdrew the bottle of laudanum from the medicine cabinet. He gave it a gentle swirl, before filling a dropper with the contents, and depositing the liquid into his teacup. The dropper returned a second time to the bottle, and then a third[1].

"I've an awful bout of melancholy..." he mused aloud. "Just can't get to sleep. I suppose the storm rattled my nerves more than I'd hoped!" he said rather matter-of-factly. "The brandy in this is really first rate, if you'd like a drop in your tea?"

1. Quite the dosage, even for a marten of his size. The potency between bottles of laudanum varied -- perhaps this was a weaker batch?

 

[Amnesty Greysoul]

The vixen's ears perked and she looked up at the sound of the surgeon's pawsteps. For such a big beast, he moved with a stealth that continued to surprise her. She nodded her head in quiet greeting. Though... as tired as she was, Arthur looked even more beaten down than she felt herself.

"It seemed the best chance I was going to get to replenish some of my more coveted preparations. I'm afraid I completely underestimated how frequent the injuries and illnesses would be in a crew of this size. And yes, please, tea would be lovely."

She turned back to her own work as the marten began to bustle about the stove, the rhythmic scrape of her mortar and pestle adding to the clink of teacups and the bubbling of water in the kettle. And the telltale click of the key turning in the lock of the medicine cabinet. Amnesty glanced up again from her work, one ear flicking in Arthur's direction. There had only ever been a single bottle of laudanum in Redfur's Bywater to Amnesty's knowledge, with no sure way of restocking it once it ran dry. Even now, after years in the Imperium, it felt strange to her to use it in any but the most dire of circumstances.

Certainly, she hadn't so much as thought of taking a drop herself. Yet if she frowned or paused longer than was strictly necessary before giving a small shake of her head in response, she hoped it might have gone unnoticed.

"No, thank you. I'm alright. I'm afraid I'm already tired enough that any weight on that side of the scales would end with me asleep on the table and my work unfinished."

 

[Arthur Barrett]

While the copper kettle warmed, Arthur rolled up his sleeves, and fetched a small tin from the shelf. Carefully, he spooned a measured dosage of small dried leaves into the silver tea strainers balanced on the lip of the cup. "...like all medicine..." he mused aloud, "the key is consistent dosage." As the little copper kettle began to boil, Arthur reached over to fetch a small rag from a nearby hanger, and used it to lift the kettle off it's hanger. Meanwhile, Arthur shot Amnesty another coy look, a wry smile playing at the corners of his muzzle. Told you so. Amnesty's head shake was written off towards his rather boyish behavior, and he took it all in good cheer.

In contrast, Arthur had several galons of laudanum tucked away in his secure storage, and even more stored carefully in the ship's hold. Though it was useful to have a cold heart as a surgeon, Arthur found that in his later years, he found it increasingly difficult to bear good beasts in pain. He certainly didn't give the precious medicine out like candy, but he wasn't stingy with it either.

"We mustn't have that now, should we?" he said warmly, pouring the hot water into the cups. Each were given a little swirl, and then brought over to Amnesty's desk. "How are you finding your work aboard the Hide? Is it what you expected?"

 

[Amnesty Greysoul]

If only he knew how well she knew that particular truism. "I always heard it as 'the dose makes the poison', but it sounds like the same idea."

It had been a night not so unlike this one, hadn't it? A dark room. Ingredients spread on a table before her. A current of thoughts that ran towards all the damage that could be done by the same compounds that were capable of so much good. But then, the similarities ended there, didn't they?

She looked up as Arthur set the two cups on the table and gave him a grateful smile. Steam and a pleasant scent rose from both to dissipate above the table, and Amnesty let her pestle rest and wrapped both paws around the warm cup. A soft chuckle escaped through her nose.

"Truth be told, I'm not sure what I expected. It's not the Slups, that's certain. It's different than most of what I've done before, though the skills transfer well enough. The camaraderie is... welcome."

She attempted a cautious sip of her tea but, finding more likely to burn her tongue than anything else, settled for blowing on it instead.

"How long have you been the Hide's surgeon?"

 

[Arthur Barrett]

Arthur's expression froze briefly as the marten considered the turn of phrase. Gallows humor was certainly common in this profession, but there were still unspoken limits to what could be said, and when.

Was there an edge of menace in what she said? Arthur's eyes searched her face, before glancing at the medicine she was preparing. Nothing seemed off, really. Was he over thinking it?

His mind reached back to his drunken night in the apartment, and a stinging sensation suddenly flared up in his shoulder. The menacing statue loomed over him while he slept, but the warmth of the evening had seemed to silence it's searing taunts.

"Miserable cur will die alone!"

What did it all mean? Amnesty wasn't the looming menace, silenced by... Good heavens, no! Arthur was sure of it. All of those good beasts were the ones who had silenced the statue.

But the marten had hesitated for a socially unacceptable amount of time now, and was sure that Amnesty would have noticed. He let out a disarming chuckle, before blowing on his own tea.

"The dose makes the poison? Good heavens, I didn't put that much in my tea... Only fifty drops! It'd take nearly three times that amount to put me at risk. I'm a hefty beast -- as I'm sure you have first hand knowledge..."

The tea was a lovely amber color now. Arthur lifted the strainer from his cup, tapped it gently to shake the last drops off, and set it on his saucer.

"Only my second voyage, actually. The first, as I'm sure you gathered, was our... ...ill fated expedition to Urk. A bit of a joke that I was placed here, actually. The medical college seemed to want to be rid of me, and I can't help but think they were rather upset I came back to Bully in one piece!" he said dryly with a hint of pride.

His tea was still too hot, but Arthur seemed to be in no rush. "No milk or sugar I'm afraid," he remarked ruefully, diverting the subject away from himself. "Even with all her modern majesty, certain luxuries are yet too dear for our Hide. Some things take a while to get used to. You seem to be adapting rather well to life on a ship though. You've traveled before, haven't you?"