Antonin "takes 100 words to say 'yes'" Dolohov (amdolohov) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-10-28 09:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-10] october, antonin dolohov, rodolphus lestrange |
RP Log: Antonin and Rodolphus
Who: Antonin and Rodolphus
Where: Lestrange Manor
When: Tuesday evening
What: Antonin has good news and bad news.
Rating: PG for very mild medical jargon.
It had been a very long thirty-six hours. Antonin had grown used to functioning on minimal amounts of sleep long ago -- one did not get to be a Healer of his skill by sticking strictly to business hours, after all, and it was his skill that they had needed here. Nevertheless, once Bellatrix was asleep once more, lulled by a Dreamless Sleep potion measured out to give her five hours of rest before her next potions were ready, all Antonin wanted to do was find somewhere to snatch a few hours of sleep himself and ignore the complaints of his aching body, protesting over his treatment of it so soon after his own injuries.
But his job wasn't done yet. He had to break the news to Rodolphus, as he'd promised Bellatrix he would. Sighing to himself and bending for a moment to massage his calf, soothing away some of the ache, Antonin stood up and moved over to where Rodolphus was sleeping where he'd been sitting since Antonin had allowed him and Walden back in the room, after the surgery. Antonin was loath to wake him -- the other man needed his rest, after all; this had been a stressful time for all involved -- but he knew Rodolphus would want to know the situation as soon as possible.
"Rodolphus."
Long for both of them, and while Antonin bore sleeplessness well, Rodolphus had spent little time outside this bedroom since Saturday, and succumbed twice to the siren song of sleep. A light sleeper by habit, his entire body tensed when he heard a voice - though the actual syllables going into rousing him were lost to the winds of the subconscious. Wearied eyes snapped open, suddenly alert, keen, afraid - though one did not pick out such emotional weakness in Rodolphus Lestrange (not on purpose anyway) - and he stared darkly at Antonin, demanding details from his expression alone; his gaze then jerked to Bellatrix. From here he could not tell if she was sleeping or dead, and though a sharp twist of cold emotion (displeasure? anger? worry?) gripped him, he could not quite justify shoving Antonin out of his way so that he could find out for himself.
"Yes." It was a single syllable of question - or, really, of demand - though Rodolphus's voice was poignantly without affect.
"I need to speak with you about Bellatrix's condition." Antonin dropped unceremoniously into the other chair, ignoring the little voice in his head that said this wasn't protocol. This entire situation was against protocol. "She woke briefly, and is resting now; she will wake again in five hours, at which point the potions she needs to replenish her blood supply will be ready. She asked me to speak with you regarding her injuries."
He always hated this part of being a Healer. Breaking bad news to the family, whether it was informing them of a death or telling them that their loved one would never walk again, might never regain their memory... would never have children.
"There was a significant amount of damage done to her lower torso," he began. "Her small intestine was perforated, her liver was nicked and her uterus and ovaries sustained a great deal of damage. I was able to repair the damage to her intestines and liver, but there was too high a chance that leaving her reproductive organs in place would lead to sepsis. In her weakened condition, she would not likely survive the infection. It was necessary to remove her ovaries and uterus in order to give her the best chance of recovering."
It was with a grave, uncomprehending sort of look that Rodolphus stared on at the healer. Antonin, he reminded himself. His friend. Difficulty in processing this situation had been his trouble since the moment Narcissa brought his wife home to him in pieces. His reaction then had been to assert immediate control over everything - but he couldn't control this, and so he didn't understand it. Didn't want to.
"So she will recover," he reiterated slowly, looking more exhausted than he'd felt in decades. That part he thought he understood; that part was the most important. "But we will never have children." Rodolphus couldn't decide if this bothered him or not; he was too tired to feel - an act that didn't come naturally to him at the best of times.
And this was not the best of times.
"I am sorry," Antonin said quietly. He knew better than most what it was like to be told that; he and Theresa had, at least, had Anzhelina before the Healers had pronounced her unable to conceive again. True, Rodolphus and Bellatrix had never seemed particularly concerned with children, but the image they portrayed was not necessarily what they felt. "If there was anything I could have done differently, I would have. I truly believe that this was the only way to ensure her full recovery."
"Then you have no need for apologies," Rodolphus responded, more dismissively than he felt - or reasoned, he still hadn't decided. His expression didn't alter, but he leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes for a long moment. If he ever got his hands on Sirius Black, he was going to thoughtfully and brutally remove his spine. This decision was all the comfort he would have tonight, however, and Rodolphus turned his attentions immediately outward into his arena. "Antonin you must sleep. The servants will bring you any nourishment you desire, only ask it."
Antonin wasn't completely happy with the way Rodolphus was reacting -- deflecting was only healthy to a certain degree, after all, and Rodolphus was his friend; he didn't want to see him spiral into the depression that all too often came after news such as this -- but it was too early to press him on the matter.
"If you do not object, I would like to remain at the manor until Bellatrix has recovered. While I am confident that she will be back on her feet before terribly long, I do not wish to be away from her should she relapse. Having me close by would be best for her."
Rodolphus appreciated the space given, though his expression didn't shift one iota to demonstrate that vague relief.
"Of course. I assume you will desire your own space." And by assume he really meant 'I have decided," since he had no intention of fretting over his wife in front of someone else any longer than was strictly necessary. His allowance of that violation these past few days was only further proof of his distress in this matter, though of course he refused to acknowledge this singular evidence. "Consider the southeastern rooms yours. And your daughter is welcome if she desires your company."
"I will discuss the matter with her in the morning."
He was inclined to send Anzhelina to stay with Druella Black; for all he'd had some arguments with the woman, his daughter did enjoy her company, and he felt she'd be happier there than at the Lestrange Manor. She didn't know Corbina as well as she knew Druella, after all. It could be decided later, though, when his nerves weren't screaming at him and his mind wasn't half-fogged with fatigue.
"The potions that Bellatrix will require when she wakes are on the bureau, in the blue bottles. They will be ready in five hours, when the Dreamless Sleep potion I gave her wears off. If you wish, come and wake me."
Not that he expected her condition to change in five hours, or even ten. She was stable for now, if critical. But he would understand if Rodolphus wanted the comfort of having a healer check his wife's progress.
Rodolphus nodded immediately, moving from his chair to that very bureau - so that he might assess the situation instantly, intimately. Bottles, check. Would feed to Bellatrix in five hours. Check. Easy enough, and unless Bellatrix required it - he doubted he would be bothering Antonin. "I shall retrieve you if necessary."
There was little else to say that couldn't wait, and no doubt Rodolphus wished for privacy. Antonin gave him a brief nod and left the room, heading to the southeastern rooms and waving off the servant who wanted to know if he required anything. Right now, the only thing he required was sleep, and a brief cessation of pain.
He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.