[D8 EE] The Wounded Dragon

[Maester Hubert]

Hubert tied off the bandage, and nodded. "That should hold fine, but try not to use the hand, at all if you can." He examined her face now, poking gently at the tender bruising, "how much pain is that chewing giving you?"

[Alicent Feyther]

Even the gentle poking made her wince, especially as it went near the joint of her jaw. "Quite a bit, but it's all..." She waved her fingers along the jaw. "It doesn't feel like any teeth are loose."

[Maester Hubert]

"Good, good," he murmured, "I don't think anything is broken," he palpated towards the eye socket. "Soft foods, for a few days, all right?"

He sighed, there wasn't a lot he could do for the bruises and swelling, he'd have to come back to that. "You said you hurt your back?" He moved to her side, "take this robe off for me?"

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Leaning closer, "shall I look away?"

[Alicent Feyther]

She nodded to Lorent and rose, removing the robe and turning so Hubert could look at her back. There was a red line or two visible above the neckline. Looking beneath, there were quite a few criss-crossing lines. Most were bruised and had some spotting just under the surface, but some and broken the skin and left angry red and scabbing.

[Maester Hubert]

Hubert frowned, "this too," he indicated to her chemise, seeing the unmistakable lash marks that extended down her back.

[Alicent Feyther]

She nodded and lifted the garment over her head, setting it aside to let him see the extent of it.

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Perhaps it was a good thing Lorent had turned away, seeing the lashes extending down her back and thighs would have likely been too much for him to bear with anything approaching good grace.

[Maester Hubert]

"This is going to hurt," Hubert cautioned, directing the young woman to face the table and braced herself against it as best she could. He uncorked a vial of pale red liquid, it shimmered with pearlescent hues, but had a pungent smell, and burned like acid in the open wounds as he bathed them liberally, the Myrish Fire flowing down her back and legs.

[Alicent Feyther]

She nodded and gritted her teeth, trying not to sob as the wounds burned, only kind of succeeding. She choked on them instead, gritting her teeth at the pain. She might have borne it better if not for its source. She didn't want to make so much noise that Lorent looked over and saw.