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@Belle

The medical staff went to work straight away as Trystan was brought to them. The son of a noble house was sure to receive the best medical attention. First, Trystan was screaming in agony. Any little shift from the movement of the stretcher he was carried on caused him more pain than he has ever felt before. Seeing the drastic nature of the injury, the maester made a call on the spot of removing the splintered spear from his shoulder then immediately scalding the wound in boiled mead to kill off any corruption that would be growing. Of course, due to the pace the maester was operating at, he did not administer milk of the poppy. Trystan, in shock from the injury already, did not notice all the commotion outside of the medical tent. The tournament was still going on, and the people would have a spectacle on their hands...

The treatment worked, much to Trystan's agony. Without milk of the poppy, Trystan felt everything. As soon as the maester laid a hand on the splintered spear, he screamed. Now, one can only imagine the sounds he was making when the splinter was removed and the wound scalded with boiling mead. Trystan fainted from the pain of having the splintered spear removed but was jolted awake as soon as the mead made contact with his skin. He remained awake when the maester stitched his wound shut. The pain of having a needle run through one's skin and muscle was nothing compared to what Trystan had just felt... 

As his treatment finished, right before Trystan closed his eyes to rest, he heard move screams outside the tent and saw the maester and his assistants clear out from the tent frantically. Normally, he would get up and move about, trying to see what has happened. However, he was weak, he could do no such thing. Thus, he remained on his cot, eyes closed, trying to gather what strength remains with him.

Some time later, after Trystan had actually fallen asleep but reawakened, he noticed a female figure move into the tent. At first, he thought it was his mother, or one of his sisters coming in to check on him, to make sure the maester is doing everything in his power to heal him. Remaining still to ever so playfully trick one of the ladies of his family, he wanted for the female to speak. However, when she did speak, he realized that it was Lyra who came, not his sisters nor mother. He listened to every word she said. An accomplice? The King's death? Just what in the world was she talking about...? He would have answers, regardless of his injury. If the king is truly dead, then the capital is no longer a safe place for anyone, let alone a high born. He needs to move, he needs to go back to Hyland's Keep and figure out what his family has planned for this catastrophe. Before he can open his eyes, he felt Lyra's presence close to him, and her lips against his cheek. The kiss, seemingly magic, made him forget the wound still fresh on his shoulder. He turned with his eyes closed and made sure his lips found hers. As he broke from the kiss, he said in a soft, but strong, voice "Come with me, back to Mount Promonon..." His eyes opened and he used his uninjured arm to prop himself up, grimacing the entire way. The maester did a fine job with his wound as it remained closed underneath its bandage. Taking a small stumble, he reached out his right hand to Lyra, waiting for her to take it. "If you want to clear your name, stay by my side..." He said to her through a grimace. "We'll need a horse, mine if possible. Hand me my sword as well, we'll need that on the way back to Mount Promonon..." It seems, the two of them would have to make this journey on their own...
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