RP Log: Antonin and Bellatrix
Who: Antonin and Bellatrix Where: In bed at the Lestrange Manor What: Bella wakes up and then promptly requests to be made to sleep again. When: Early morning, 28 October Rating: Oh, PG for mention of girly bits.
Antonin had been at the Lestrange Manor since late on Sunday night, attending to Bellatrix. He'd been a little shocked upon seeing the state she was in when he arrived, but that shock had quickly been shunted to the side, letting the clinical, professional Healer mindset come to the fore, where it was needed. He'd spent most of the last thirty-six hours at Bella's side, stretching his skills to the limits to minimise the damage done, replace lost blood, mend broken bones and torn muscle. Some of the damage was too severe; surgery had been the only option. Antonin wasn't entirely used to working without assistance, but it was necessary, and not beyond his talent.
Now, some hours after he'd closed the last incision and cast as many healing charms as his strength would allow him, he was seated beside Bellatrix's bed with a cup of coffee, waiting. She should wake; if all had gone well, she should wake soon.
There was no sense of time passing in Bellatrix's world; a grey, flat dreamscape only occasionally marred by bright flares of awareness was her existence. And it was good. Little concerned her and she shunned every moment that held the intensity of dim conciousness - a flutter of the eyelids was pure agony. She floated along in the ether, blessedly dreamless as Antonin toiled to mend her body.
Until, of course, with strength gathering even in her unaware state, she could finally conceive of simple things like taste (a bitter, metallic tang wrapped her tongue in cotton) and smell (there was coffee near) ... Should she dare her voice? Would it be the same after - a shudder passed through her decimated body - the one shot she couldn't block?
"Rodolphus?"
"Rodolphus is sleeping," Antonin said quietly, setting the coffee down and standing, carefully checking Bellatrix for any signs of distress. Her heart rate was lower than he liked, but that was to be expected with the blood loss she'd suffered, and it would improve when her body had replenished the missing blood. "Are you in much pain? The healing charms should take care of most of it, but if there is residual pain I can give you a potion to remedy it."
Dolohov. "Where am I?" She breathed out, attempting to rise to her elbows to survey her surroundings. If they had taken her to the hospital there would be hell ... "Oh." She didn't get much further than an infintessimal movement of her neck before something felt categorically wrong in her body. She was fully alert - but, it seemed, the ether still threatened to hang about the corners of her vision.
"I guess that's why everything is numb ..."
"You are at home," Antonin told her, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, tacitly warning her not to try to move. He didn't put any pressure on her, and removed his hand after a moment, but he hoped she was sensible enough not to try anything unwise.
"You were badly wounded, as I am certain you know. You have been unconscious since the duel. Rodolphus asked that I come here to treat you, as explaining your situation to the hospital would be rather difficult. I believe I have repaired the worst of the damage; you will need to take potions to replenish your blood, and you will require a significant period of convalescence, but if you do not push yourself, I think you will be back on your feet before too long."
He hesitated for a moment; the next part was the bad news, and telling patients bad news was never pleasant.
"There was a great deal of damage done to your reproductive organs, Bellatrix. I had to remove them in order to prevent sepsis from setting in. I am sorry; under normal circumstances I would have waited to gain your consent, but there was no time. I did not want to risk losing you to infection."
Shock was, perhaps, the only thing that allowed her to take such news with naught but a stoic, subtle nod of her head.
"Alright," she murmured, testing each finger and toe for movement as she considered Antonin's careworn face. "Thank you."
"I am sorry," he repeated quietly. "It was not a decision I made lightly. I am confident that if you take your recovery carefully, you will be back to your fighting form in short order."
Bellatrix had thought little about the possibility of reproducing with Rodolphus. He had Marius and she was busy doing the Dark Lord's work. However, with the ability taken away from her, she was free to long for just the possibility of it.
What did it make her, anyway?
She shut her eyes.
"You must tell Rodolphus."
"I will," Antonin promised. "For now, you should rest. I will bring you some potions in a few hours, and after you have taken those we can see about starting you on fluids. Your appetite is likely to be poor for a day or so; it is a side effect from some of the charms I had to use. I will be at hand if you require anything; do not hesitate to ask me."
Weak and vulnerable in her body, she was glad for Antonin's charms that held the pain at bay and seemed to wall her mind off from the facts:
She was alive.
She would get better, if she followed orders.
She would never have children.
A wavering breath filled her too tight lungs. Rodolphus would ground these anxieties with his rock-like presence - Rodolphus ... would probably divorce her. She did not have the energy to devote to the thought or the accompanying questions that started to mob her.
Gasping, she let one arm dart forward, a fist clenched tight in Antonin's shirt.
"Make me sleep."
He had been prepared for such an action; one did not treat Bellatrix Lestrange and expect her to be a tractable patient. Gently disengaging her hand from his shirt, he reached over to the bureau and selected one of the Dreamless Sleep potions, carefully measured out to provide a certain amount of sleep.
"Here. Let me help you drink."
... nor did Bellatrix let anyone assist her. Typically. With a subtle nod of assent, her muscles loosened and she waited to move at Antonin's instruction.
Antonin carefully helped her sit up enough to be able to drink without risking choking, and supported her head against one arm, holding the narrow-necked bottle to her lips and tilting it slowly, giving her plenty of time to swallow each mouthful.
"When you wake, I will have more potions for you to take, that will help you heal."
She was a good patient, drinking her potion thoroughly until she was settled back onto the pillows. As the corners of her vision began to fade to grey, she fixed a stare upon Antonin, her mouth moving in silent thanks. Then, her eyes were closed and she knew nothing more.