It was hard to tell someone who was sewing up a gruesome wound that they needed to see a healer themselves. Fiaethe did not have much skill to help, especially if the situation called for field medicine. There was also only so much she could do with the temple staff that had taken over the square as well -- she could not give the next direction and she didn't know who to trust for news or word. That would have to come down to the High Priestess in this place.
As for Skandra, Fiaethe did not know what to think of him. The High Priestess certainly seemed conflicted (as well as angry). The idea of him as a criminal matched what reputation he had and yet he operated more sophisticated abilities than any criminal she'd ever met. And it was hard to argue that Skandra had attempted to save her life, at risk to himself. For her part, Fiaethe was more than willing to keep her distance. At least until this all began to make some sense.
She remained a distance behind Aeotha and only allowed her eyes to fall on them a few times. Fiaethe was no good at protecting anything physically, but she still liked to believe her eyes weren't completely useless. Watching the square was the most useful thing she could do at that moment. There was little else she could ask for, in a terrible time like a siege, than to be useful.