[ He started with herbal supplements, at first. Wolfhook Berries from Mondstadt were supposed to have a mild analgesic property when crushed into a paste, but applying it to his own back was too difficult, and Aether felt vaguely certain that the results that his fellow adventurers swore by were merely from the cooling sensation and the placebo effect. When that didn't work, he tried Dendrobium from Inazuma and Qingxin from Liyue, but neither of these did much for the perpetual pain between his shoulderblades, or for the ache in his heart he felt when he looked up at the sky.
All this time, he's been dealing with it on his own.
It's taken Aether a long time to get to the point that he's at: having made a formal appointment with Bubu Pharmacy.
And for a moment, Baizhu might have thought that there was some kind of mistake. Aether's name stands out in the list of familiar names from Liyue that normally comprises his daily patients list; every so often, yes, a foreign patient from faraway lands will travel all the way that is needed to see him to treat a rare illness, but for the famously healthy Traveler to count himself among their ranks is odd indeed.
Qiqi doesn't think anything of seeing Aether's name on the list of patients for the day, but even Herbalist Gui seems to have some consternation over it as he goes through preparing the day's prescriptions for more regular patients. And then, when his appointed time comes — ]
Hello, Dr. Baizhu.
[ — nothing about Aether would suggest that anything is wrong with him, to outward eyes. He appears, as ever, to be the ethereally beautiful, externally perfect young man who has by now taken time out of his days to help most people in Liyue in one way or another. The rumors never claim that he has infinite patience, but they do say that he is impossibly good at what he does.
He hovers awkwardly in the doorway, as if waiting to be asked to take a seat, and doesn't quite meet Baizhu's piercing golden gaze. ]
[Most mornings, Baizhu looks over his list of patients and other tasks for the day and finds very little he did not already expect. He has "regular" visitors, those with chronic pain and those with the chronic need to air their pains aloud to a listening ear. Appointments are, on the whole, not also emergencies, and the most common ailments of Liyue Harbor aren't too difficult to remedy.
It was an anomaly indeed to see Aether's name written down. Strange, that Baizhu can't recall the traveler stopping by. Perhaps he came late in the evening? He tucks that thought away when the anticipated hour comes, and Aether is shown through to his office.
Baizhu stands to greet him, wearing a kind smile and reserved curiosity in his eyes.]
Good afternoon, Aether. [The once-over look is part of his job; the traveler appears to be quite healthy, but then, so can Baizhu himself.] I hope you haven't been waiting long. Please, come in and sit down.
[All ordinary pleasantries. All the same courtesies he would extend to any other "new" patient. Aether is hardly new as a friend, of course, but friendship does not warrant appointments, even in Liyue, unless one is the Tianquan.
His smooth gesture to an open chair, and subsequent settling into his own, are also standard. Whether or not Aether accepts the invitation will be up to him.]
I trust you will agree that this is a rather unusual circumstance.
[They both know they are, separately, intelligent enough not to cat-and-mouse about on the subject, do they not?]
So, while this question may seem like a professional courtesy, please understand that it is...more than that, as well. [The shutters of the office's window are propped open, so the air can circulate and the sunlight can catch just so on the sharpness in his gaze.] How are you feeling, Aether?
[ It's funny. Most of Aether's prior encounters with Baizhu have involved him being mildly unscrupulous and even somewhat threatening. Aether also knows, from the incident with Jiangli, that Baizhu can be brisk, efficient, professional. And yet, for all their past meetings, this is perhaps the first time he's interacted with Baizhu as a doctor. In the past, he's played the part of merchant, medicine-man, poisons expert — but today, it seems, he would heal Aether's ills.
The traveler sits where he's bid to sit, resting his hands lightly on his thighs. His posture is upright, but relaxed, particularly in the shoulders. There is a little hint of weariness in his golden eyes, but Baizhu himself has likely known and felt that look. ]
I'm alright. [ The mechanical response, given on reflex. If he were alright, he wouldn't have scheduled this appointment. Sighing, he grimaces and continues: ] I'm — well. I wouldn't be here if I were alright, I suppose.
[ Aether's eyes flick towards Baizhu's, but he can't seem to hold the man's patient gaze. He lowers his eyes again. ]
...It's nothing I'm not used to. It's just — I'm in a lot of pain, these days.
[ The flicker of a shadow crosses his features; the searing, burning ache through his back has flared up again, and he knows he just has to ignore it, but it's so tiresome, sometimes. He wishes he could just rip the nerves out of his spine, sometimes. There's no getting back what he's lost, so why does his traitorous body have to constantly remind him of it? ]
I've tried a lot of different painkillers. But nothing really seems to work.
[The outright admission to pain - a lot of pain - surprises him.
It shouldn't. The life Aether leads, the situations he inevitably encounters both as a traveler and as accidental (or purposeful) savior of each situation he wades through, none of it lends itself to comfort and rest. In his journey across Teyvat, Aether has certainly taken an injury or two that could result in long-term soreness. Perhaps for the rest of his life.
Baizhu simply did not expect him to admit it so easily. When he arrived looking otherwise healthy, it was sensible to put aside most illnesses or other odd maladies; for a few moments, with Aether sitting there, tired but not tense, he thought perhaps the discussion would not be about the traveler at all.
But he is so terribly familiar with how it feels. To ache all the time. To weigh one bad day, or several, against a "good day" that might leave a less practiced person bedridden, and do it with a smile, as he still has work to do, patients to see, immortality to attain.
So Baizhu looks at Aether over the top edge of his spectacles, serious, but not really grave.]
I see. Do you think you could describe the pain for me, then? Where it is, whether there are things you have done recently that may have made it worse.
[For just a second, a smile breaks the scrutiny, though it's gone again with his voice.]
I will also listen to things you have done that shouldn't have affected you, of course.
[ There's something of a relief to it, even though Aether knew that Baizhu would understand. He's relieved to know that the man doesn't pry more than what is necessary for a doctor to treat his patient, that he would know this type of chronic suffering well. Day in, day out. It wears on a body, takes its toll, no matter how immortal or otherworldly or impossibly perfect that body might be.
And maybe, deep down, though he also knows it's stupid — the truth is, part of Aether was afraid to come to anyone he knew with this problem. Because he didn't want to be the person who revealed that their stalwart hero wasn't so perfect after all, and even though he knows that his friends love him, he's also still fearful, in his heart of hearts, that they would think less of him if they ever found out about this. ]
...It's my back. [ He grimaces, reaching with one hand to rub the back of his neck as he sits through another flare-up. ] It burns, like a ipnched nerve, through all of the relevant muscles. I know the cause, though. I mean — I think I know the cause.
[ There's another reason that he chose Baizhu, out of all the doctors he knows. As a practicing physician in Liyue, as opposed to Sumeru or Fontaine, Baizhu has the distinct advantage of having treated patients that aren't human, like the adepti, and the yaksha, and even the immortal jiangshi, if one counts Qiqi among their number.
It, therefore, will be a shock, but probably isn't too much of a shock when Aether takes a breath, and continues: ]
My sister and I... we used to have wings. [ He shakes his head, as he suddenly realizes he's said something a bit misleading. ] Or rather — I think she still has hers. But after I was — [ a brief pause, as he struggles to explain what happened to him] — I was sealed, for a while, and when I woke up I didn't have my wings anymore. I'd lost a lot of power, actually.
[ Helplessly, he shrugs a little. He isn't quite looking into Baizhu's snakelike eyes. This is one of precious few times he's admitted to a friend what he used to be. ]
Losing power, I don't mind that so much. But my back... always hurts, these days, and... I don't know what to do for it anymore. I'm a little —
[ Frustrated, he wants to say, but he seems to think better of it, which somehow communicates his frustration better than actually admitting to it. He sighs. ]
[Baizhu simply listens; he sits back in surprise when Aether comes to the wings, but it certainly isn't a terrible shock. After all, the traveler isn't quite like anyone else he knows, and he knows so many unique varieties of living being. Indeed, there are legends of adepti who have lost their wings, so to speak - why should this be so different?
Aether lacks visible wounds from it, of course, but...well. It seems the damage was done regardless.
On the matter of frustration too dense to put into words, Baizhu nods calmly.]
I hope it doesn't sound too patronizing when I tell you I understand something of how you feel. [Aether knows more than enough of his secrets, he doesn't need any further explanation right now.] Before you continue, I want to ask you if it's happening right now - and, if it is, how severe the pain is compared to what you...usually experience.
[The way he keeps shifting how he sits, the deliberate care in movements as simple as a shrug - Baizhu doesn't need a special contract to see his obvious and persistent discomfort.]
[ It's only information that Aether should already know, but it is comforting to be reminded of this fact, actually. Yes, of course — wouldn't Baizhu know best, when it comes to exactly how frustrating and demoralizing and emotionally burdensome it is to feel chronic pain, every hour of every waking day? It is even probable that Baizhu's burdens are worse than Aether's own, on some distant objective level. This is not a thought that makes the traveler feel demoralized; rather, he finds comfort in the idea of sympathy. It isn't patronizing at all.
Aether lets out a long sigh, releasing some tension along with his breath. With tender care, as though even just moving would aggravate his phantom pain, the traveler rolls his arm minutely, and grimaces. ]
It's bad right now, to be honest. On good days, it only aches, like I haven't rested in a long time. But on bad days like this, it burns and doesn't stop burning.
[ The traveler hesitates visibly for a moment, and then volunteers a confession, quite without being prompted. His voice is quiet and small and laden with guilt, but then Baizhu must be familiar with this, too: the confession of sin that is given by a patient only to his doctor, who is sworn to some degree of secrecy. ]
...I like... doing difficult things. In spite of it. Because when the risk is high enough, the danger is potent enough... the rush of adrenaline makes the pain go away.
[ He has been looking at his fingers for some time; he curls them now into a fist, looking up at Baizhu with a complex mixture of somber and weary determination. ]
[In day-to-day practice, Baizhu spends much of his time wearing a little smile, carrying the hint of amusement in his bearing. Some might claim his patients find it reassuring; others will gripe about his humor in the face of their pain, but they don't put any sting into it, because the truth is that Bubu Pharmacy offers the best care in Liyue Harbor, even if Dr. Baizhu is unsettling sometimes - the golden eyes above that knowing smile can pry the secrets of an ailment right out of you. But you want him smiling, or at least on the easygoing side, according to rumor. As a patient, you only have to worry when the amusement fades into even, unruffled calm.
As now.]
Certainly not.
[Not if he can help it. Refusing to entertain the idea that he's not at all sure he can, Baizhu pushes his spectacles almost imperceptibly higher. Given the nature of Aether's complaint, things like "a reassuring pat on the shoulder" are unlikely to be very reassuring at all, so he refrains.]
You don't carry yourself the way one would expect of someone missing an appendage they're used to having, so determining whether and by what means your body is making up for the change could at least point toward some possibilities for treatment.
[At no point does any of his standard mirth return. Aether deserves, and will receive, an initial assessment befitting someone already quite intelligent about his own suffering.]
It doesn't surprise me to hear that you seek experiences that bring you relief. [Absolution, for his confession. There are worse things Aether could do, though risking his life - or at least simulating it enough to provoke a response from his body - is fairly far down on the list of acceptable treatment.] Even temporary ones. Pain slows and impedes healing, and you've been caught in its snare for some time.
[Baizhu stands.]
I'd like to examine you, but for that, you'll need to expose your back. If it will be too painful for you to do on your own, then I can offer some assistance, or call for Gui if you would prefer it.
[ He replies almost too quickly. Some would — and often do — find the pressure of being under Dr. Baizhu's intense scrutiny all too much to bear. Aether, for his part, does not quail under the focus of those snakelike golden eyes, standing with an ease that almost completely masks the reality of being a man in a considerable amount of pain.
But a doctor of Baizhu's caliber will notice the gritted jaw past the carefully placid, serene expression that Teyvat's famed traveler is known to maintain. A doctor like Baizhu will see, perhaps even before the patient himself does, that pulling one's arms over one's head with the ghost of a torn wing still mangled behind one's back will result in a wave of pain so severe that it is almost dizzying, white-hot and disorienting, leaving Aether light-headed enough to sway slightly where he's standing, even as a warrior's constitution naturally brings his weight back to stable balance again — ]
Ah — haha... Guess not.
[ Forced laughter as he falters and winces, knuckles white where he grips his own shirt still caught around his neck. Well, he pulled it off, mostly — just needs to tug it off his neck and take his braid out of it now, but he seems a little winded, as though stars dance before his eyes. ]
He didn't expect Aether to stand, but it's better that he did, it makes it far easier to step back toward him and brace him upright, Baizhu's hands under the traveler's elbows. Balance is quickly restored, and would have been without his help - but he doesn't let go.]
That's enough.
[Not quite a scolding, but as firm as he dares make it. If even that small amount of movement is enough to leave Aether gasping and swaying...
With gentle pressure, he guides the traveler to sit back down on the chair he just vacated - turned aside, so his back isn't blocked or touching anything. In a more ideal world, perhaps, he could lie facedown on the bed instead, but Baizhu won't even suggest such activity until he's much more sure that Aether won't faint outright from pain. With an agility that says nothing so much as that today isn't quite so painful for him, he toes his own chair closer, pulling Aether to lean forward even as he himself takes a seat.]
Keep your head down until it passes. [This close, he'll be able to prevent the traveler from spilling onto the floor should he lose consciousness after all, but it would be better to avoid that entirely.] Try to even your breathing, if you can.
[That is all the advice he can give. He keeps his hands lightly cupped at Aether's elbows, his fingertips just barely making contact, silently watching and waiting.
When Aether at last seems cognizant again, Baizhu does not ask him to sit up. Instead, the doctor sinks to one knee, onto the floor, so that he's at the traveler's eye level - and level indeed is his regard. He won't need to raise his voice above a murmur.]
If I am to be of any help to you at all, Aether, [one short, serious nod] then you will need to be honest with me about your condition. Your limits. I trust we understand one another?
[ It's not Aether's intention to disrespect Baizhu's concern or authority, but somehow, he can't help but laugh, both as a guilty reaction and at the absurdity of the situation. He rests his hands lightly on the good doctor's forearms, pressing his fingertips gently into Baizhu's skin, as if to convey a wordless apology. Perhaps it is true that the only person he needs to apologize to is himself, but — even so. Even so.
After a moment longer of recovery, he nods his head, contrite. ]
I understand...
[ Another laugh, as if in a desperate effort to convey that it wasn't so bad, really. Deep down, he already knows he has to give this up, but he can't quite help himself; it's all reflex. He is so used to the idea that he has to pretend that he's fine that it's hard to shake off the impulse to do so even in front of one's own doctor, after admitting that the problem has become too much to bear. ]
It's just... you know. [ Another short, dazed laugh. He knows that Baizhu knows. ] It’s hard to be honest. Once you've started lying. It's hard to stop.
[ Beseeching golden eyes meet analytical golden eyes. Aether rights himself slightly. ]
[Time to get off the floor. It's a quick task, to pull Aether's shirt the rest of the way off himself, gently dislodging his braid and letting it fall forward over his shoulder.
Again it feels strange to have neither Changsheng nor Paimon about, trading scathing commentary and wound-up worry. He wonders if Aether would have stayed, would have revealed his suffering at all, had there been others involved.
Baizhu hands Aether his shirt to hold.]
I don't want you to get so cold you start to shiver. [What he's going to do may cause more discomfort than relief, at least at first. Why make it worse than that?] I'll begin whenever you are ready. I make no promises about it being painless, but I will try.
[So saying, he moves to stand behind Aether, careful not to block the light.]
Sit up straight, and relax as much as you can. If it becomes too much for you, please say so.
[He means it, Aether. His hands momentarily just rest on the traveler's shoulders.
Baizhu himself takes a long breath, and then his work begins. Visually, at first, and then as gently as he can from top to bottom with his hands - a careful prod here and there where the muscles seem especially tense - he works his way along Aether's bare skin, looking and feeling for signs of damage from his now-absent wings.]
[ It doesn't have to be painless, Aether thinks. He of all people knows best that many things in life simply cannot be painless, and his treatment for a very painful situation, in particular, was never something that he expected to be perfectly soothing. He almost wants to apologize for making Baizhu get down on the floor to talk to him, but by the time he's got his thoughts together about that, the doctor has already moved and is standing behind the traveler instead.
Well — a gentle touch examination, like this — no, Aether doesn't mind it at all. It's only natural, as a physician, to try and identify where the exact issue is. For the most part, Aether doesn't react; his bare skin responds the way that bare skin does, and he even seems a little soothed by the touch. But when Baizhu's thumbs pass over or prod along a set of diagonal lines along his shoulderblades, that's when he shudders, the intake of his breath hissing slightly against his teeth. It's not too much for him, so he doesn't complain, but the pain reaction is quite clear. ]
Ah — there, that's where they... where they were.
[ To his credit, the traveler maintains a relaxed posture even through the slight twinge of pain that accompanies Baizhu's fingers brushing over his wounded wings. He isn't laughing anymore, but he sounds thoughtful, as if he's put thought — no doubt he has — into his own medical mystery. ]
It's funny... It's not as though there were ever structures there. No bones or feathers. They were made of light...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
All this time, he's been dealing with it on his own.
It's taken Aether a long time to get to the point that he's at: having made a formal appointment with Bubu Pharmacy.
And for a moment, Baizhu might have thought that there was some kind of mistake. Aether's name stands out in the list of familiar names from Liyue that normally comprises his daily patients list; every so often, yes, a foreign patient from faraway lands will travel all the way that is needed to see him to treat a rare illness, but for the famously healthy Traveler to count himself among their ranks is odd indeed.
Qiqi doesn't think anything of seeing Aether's name on the list of patients for the day, but even Herbalist Gui seems to have some consternation over it as he goes through preparing the day's prescriptions for more regular patients. And then, when his appointed time comes — ]
Hello, Dr. Baizhu.
[ — nothing about Aether would suggest that anything is wrong with him, to outward eyes. He appears, as ever, to be the ethereally beautiful, externally perfect young man who has by now taken time out of his days to help most people in Liyue in one way or another. The rumors never claim that he has infinite patience, but they do say that he is impossibly good at what he does.
He hovers awkwardly in the doorway, as if waiting to be asked to take a seat, and doesn't quite meet Baizhu's piercing golden gaze. ]
...I'm here for my appointment?
no subject
It was an anomaly indeed to see Aether's name written down. Strange, that Baizhu can't recall the traveler stopping by. Perhaps he came late in the evening? He tucks that thought away when the anticipated hour comes, and Aether is shown through to his office.
Baizhu stands to greet him, wearing a kind smile and reserved curiosity in his eyes.]
Good afternoon, Aether. [The once-over look is part of his job; the traveler appears to be quite healthy, but then, so can Baizhu himself.] I hope you haven't been waiting long. Please, come in and sit down.
[All ordinary pleasantries. All the same courtesies he would extend to any other "new" patient. Aether is hardly new as a friend, of course, but friendship does not warrant appointments, even in Liyue, unless one is the Tianquan.
His smooth gesture to an open chair, and subsequent settling into his own, are also standard. Whether or not Aether accepts the invitation will be up to him.]
I trust you will agree that this is a rather unusual circumstance.
[They both know they are, separately, intelligent enough not to cat-and-mouse about on the subject, do they not?]
So, while this question may seem like a professional courtesy, please understand that it is...more than that, as well. [The shutters of the office's window are propped open, so the air can circulate and the sunlight can catch just so on the sharpness in his gaze.] How are you feeling, Aether?
no subject
The traveler sits where he's bid to sit, resting his hands lightly on his thighs. His posture is upright, but relaxed, particularly in the shoulders. There is a little hint of weariness in his golden eyes, but Baizhu himself has likely known and felt that look. ]
I'm alright. [ The mechanical response, given on reflex. If he were alright, he wouldn't have scheduled this appointment. Sighing, he grimaces and continues: ] I'm — well. I wouldn't be here if I were alright, I suppose.
[ Aether's eyes flick towards Baizhu's, but he can't seem to hold the man's patient gaze. He lowers his eyes again. ]
...It's nothing I'm not used to. It's just — I'm in a lot of pain, these days.
[ The flicker of a shadow crosses his features; the searing, burning ache through his back has flared up again, and he knows he just has to ignore it, but it's so tiresome, sometimes. He wishes he could just rip the nerves out of his spine, sometimes. There's no getting back what he's lost, so why does his traitorous body have to constantly remind him of it? ]
I've tried a lot of different painkillers. But nothing really seems to work.
no subject
It shouldn't. The life Aether leads, the situations he inevitably encounters both as a traveler and as accidental (or purposeful) savior of each situation he wades through, none of it lends itself to comfort and rest. In his journey across Teyvat, Aether has certainly taken an injury or two that could result in long-term soreness. Perhaps for the rest of his life.
Baizhu simply did not expect him to admit it so easily. When he arrived looking otherwise healthy, it was sensible to put aside most illnesses or other odd maladies; for a few moments, with Aether sitting there, tired but not tense, he thought perhaps the discussion would not be about the traveler at all.
But he is so terribly familiar with how it feels. To ache all the time. To weigh one bad day, or several, against a "good day" that might leave a less practiced person bedridden, and do it with a smile, as he still has work to do, patients to see, immortality to attain.
So Baizhu looks at Aether over the top edge of his spectacles, serious, but not really grave.]
I see. Do you think you could describe the pain for me, then? Where it is, whether there are things you have done recently that may have made it worse.
[For just a second, a smile breaks the scrutiny, though it's gone again with his voice.]
I will also listen to things you have done that shouldn't have affected you, of course.
no subject
And maybe, deep down, though he also knows it's stupid — the truth is, part of Aether was afraid to come to anyone he knew with this problem. Because he didn't want to be the person who revealed that their stalwart hero wasn't so perfect after all, and even though he knows that his friends love him, he's also still fearful, in his heart of hearts, that they would think less of him if they ever found out about this. ]
...It's my back. [ He grimaces, reaching with one hand to rub the back of his neck as he sits through another flare-up. ] It burns, like a ipnched nerve, through all of the relevant muscles. I know the cause, though. I mean — I think I know the cause.
[ There's another reason that he chose Baizhu, out of all the doctors he knows. As a practicing physician in Liyue, as opposed to Sumeru or Fontaine, Baizhu has the distinct advantage of having treated patients that aren't human, like the adepti, and the yaksha, and even the immortal jiangshi, if one counts Qiqi among their number.
It, therefore, will be a shock, but probably isn't too much of a shock when Aether takes a breath, and continues: ]
My sister and I... we used to have wings. [ He shakes his head, as he suddenly realizes he's said something a bit misleading. ] Or rather — I think she still has hers. But after I was — [ a brief pause, as he struggles to explain what happened to him] — I was sealed, for a while, and when I woke up I didn't have my wings anymore. I'd lost a lot of power, actually.
[ Helplessly, he shrugs a little. He isn't quite looking into Baizhu's snakelike eyes. This is one of precious few times he's admitted to a friend what he used to be. ]
Losing power, I don't mind that so much. But my back... always hurts, these days, and... I don't know what to do for it anymore. I'm a little —
[ Frustrated, he wants to say, but he seems to think better of it, which somehow communicates his frustration better than actually admitting to it. He sighs. ]
Sorry. I'm at my wit's end.
no subject
Aether lacks visible wounds from it, of course, but...well. It seems the damage was done regardless.
On the matter of frustration too dense to put into words, Baizhu nods calmly.]
I hope it doesn't sound too patronizing when I tell you I understand something of how you feel. [Aether knows more than enough of his secrets, he doesn't need any further explanation right now.] Before you continue, I want to ask you if it's happening right now - and, if it is, how severe the pain is compared to what you...usually experience.
[The way he keeps shifting how he sits, the deliberate care in movements as simple as a shrug - Baizhu doesn't need a special contract to see his obvious and persistent discomfort.]
no subject
Aether lets out a long sigh, releasing some tension along with his breath. With tender care, as though even just moving would aggravate his phantom pain, the traveler rolls his arm minutely, and grimaces. ]
It's bad right now, to be honest. On good days, it only aches, like I haven't rested in a long time. But on bad days like this, it burns and doesn't stop burning.
[ The traveler hesitates visibly for a moment, and then volunteers a confession, quite without being prompted. His voice is quiet and small and laden with guilt, but then Baizhu must be familiar with this, too: the confession of sin that is given by a patient only to his doctor, who is sworn to some degree of secrecy. ]
...I like... doing difficult things. In spite of it. Because when the risk is high enough, the danger is potent enough... the rush of adrenaline makes the pain go away.
[ He has been looking at his fingers for some time; he curls them now into a fist, looking up at Baizhu with a complex mixture of somber and weary determination. ]
But I also know I can't keep living like this.
no subject
As now.]
Certainly not.
[Not if he can help it. Refusing to entertain the idea that he's not at all sure he can, Baizhu pushes his spectacles almost imperceptibly higher. Given the nature of Aether's complaint, things like "a reassuring pat on the shoulder" are unlikely to be very reassuring at all, so he refrains.]
You don't carry yourself the way one would expect of someone missing an appendage they're used to having, so determining whether and by what means your body is making up for the change could at least point toward some possibilities for treatment.
[At no point does any of his standard mirth return. Aether deserves, and will receive, an initial assessment befitting someone already quite intelligent about his own suffering.]
It doesn't surprise me to hear that you seek experiences that bring you relief. [Absolution, for his confession. There are worse things Aether could do, though risking his life - or at least simulating it enough to provoke a response from his body - is fairly far down on the list of acceptable treatment.] Even temporary ones. Pain slows and impedes healing, and you've been caught in its snare for some time.
[Baizhu stands.]
I'd like to examine you, but for that, you'll need to expose your back. If it will be too painful for you to do on your own, then I can offer some assistance, or call for Gui if you would prefer it.
no subject
[ He replies almost too quickly. Some would — and often do — find the pressure of being under Dr. Baizhu's intense scrutiny all too much to bear. Aether, for his part, does not quail under the focus of those snakelike golden eyes, standing with an ease that almost completely masks the reality of being a man in a considerable amount of pain.
But a doctor of Baizhu's caliber will notice the gritted jaw past the carefully placid, serene expression that Teyvat's famed traveler is known to maintain. A doctor like Baizhu will see, perhaps even before the patient himself does, that pulling one's arms over one's head with the ghost of a torn wing still mangled behind one's back will result in a wave of pain so severe that it is almost dizzying, white-hot and disorienting, leaving Aether light-headed enough to sway slightly where he's standing, even as a warrior's constitution naturally brings his weight back to stable balance again — ]
Ah — haha... Guess not.
[ Forced laughter as he falters and winces, knuckles white where he grips his own shirt still caught around his neck. Well, he pulled it off, mostly — just needs to tug it off his neck and take his braid out of it now, but he seems a little winded, as though stars dance before his eyes. ]
no subject
He didn't expect Aether to stand, but it's better that he did, it makes it far easier to step back toward him and brace him upright, Baizhu's hands under the traveler's elbows. Balance is quickly restored, and would have been without his help - but he doesn't let go.]
That's enough.
[Not quite a scolding, but as firm as he dares make it. If even that small amount of movement is enough to leave Aether gasping and swaying...
With gentle pressure, he guides the traveler to sit back down on the chair he just vacated - turned aside, so his back isn't blocked or touching anything. In a more ideal world, perhaps, he could lie facedown on the bed instead, but Baizhu won't even suggest such activity until he's much more sure that Aether won't faint outright from pain. With an agility that says nothing so much as that today isn't quite so painful for him, he toes his own chair closer, pulling Aether to lean forward even as he himself takes a seat.]
Keep your head down until it passes. [This close, he'll be able to prevent the traveler from spilling onto the floor should he lose consciousness after all, but it would be better to avoid that entirely.] Try to even your breathing, if you can.
[That is all the advice he can give. He keeps his hands lightly cupped at Aether's elbows, his fingertips just barely making contact, silently watching and waiting.
When Aether at last seems cognizant again, Baizhu does not ask him to sit up. Instead, the doctor sinks to one knee, onto the floor, so that he's at the traveler's eye level - and level indeed is his regard. He won't need to raise his voice above a murmur.]
If I am to be of any help to you at all, Aether, [one short, serious nod] then you will need to be honest with me about your condition. Your limits. I trust we understand one another?
no subject
After a moment longer of recovery, he nods his head, contrite. ]
I understand...
[ Another laugh, as if in a desperate effort to convey that it wasn't so bad, really. Deep down, he already knows he has to give this up, but he can't quite help himself; it's all reflex. He is so used to the idea that he has to pretend that he's fine that it's hard to shake off the impulse to do so even in front of one's own doctor, after admitting that the problem has become too much to bear. ]
It's just... you know. [ Another short, dazed laugh. He knows that Baizhu knows. ] It’s hard to be honest. Once you've started lying. It's hard to stop.
[ Beseeching golden eyes meet analytical golden eyes. Aether rights himself slightly. ]
...A lot of things in life are like that.
no subject
[Time to get off the floor. It's a quick task, to pull Aether's shirt the rest of the way off himself, gently dislodging his braid and letting it fall forward over his shoulder.
Again it feels strange to have neither Changsheng nor Paimon about, trading scathing commentary and wound-up worry. He wonders if Aether would have stayed, would have revealed his suffering at all, had there been others involved.
Baizhu hands Aether his shirt to hold.]
I don't want you to get so cold you start to shiver. [What he's going to do may cause more discomfort than relief, at least at first. Why make it worse than that?] I'll begin whenever you are ready. I make no promises about it being painless, but I will try.
[So saying, he moves to stand behind Aether, careful not to block the light.]
Sit up straight, and relax as much as you can. If it becomes too much for you, please say so.
[He means it, Aether. His hands momentarily just rest on the traveler's shoulders.
Baizhu himself takes a long breath, and then his work begins. Visually, at first, and then as gently as he can from top to bottom with his hands - a careful prod here and there where the muscles seem especially tense - he works his way along Aether's bare skin, looking and feeling for signs of damage from his now-absent wings.]
no subject
Well — a gentle touch examination, like this — no, Aether doesn't mind it at all. It's only natural, as a physician, to try and identify where the exact issue is. For the most part, Aether doesn't react; his bare skin responds the way that bare skin does, and he even seems a little soothed by the touch. But when Baizhu's thumbs pass over or prod along a set of diagonal lines along his shoulderblades, that's when he shudders, the intake of his breath hissing slightly against his teeth. It's not too much for him, so he doesn't complain, but the pain reaction is quite clear. ]
Ah — there, that's where they... where they were.
[ To his credit, the traveler maintains a relaxed posture even through the slight twinge of pain that accompanies Baizhu's fingers brushing over his wounded wings. He isn't laughing anymore, but he sounds thoughtful, as if he's put thought — no doubt he has — into his own medical mystery. ]
It's funny... It's not as though there were ever structures there. No bones or feathers. They were made of light...