Warning: There's a relatively graphic surgery in this chapter,so if that will make you uncomfortable please don't read this (if you're uncomfortable reading this but still want to follow the story you can ether pm me here on or send me an ask at my tumblr aphnorducks, and I'll happily fill you in on what happened)
Scandinavia was on the fringes of autumn before the sound of horse hooves filled the village again. You could almost hear the collective sigh of irritation among the villagers as it grew closer, the idea of another obnoxious army's passing through was aggravating.
It was a market day, and Lukas was out buying tallow candles when a pair of stallions appeared on the broken cobblestone of the village square. One dragging a wooden cart, and the other free of anything but a rider.
The men on the horse's backs were nothing special. They were well dressed like anyone employed by the king would be, but there was an oddity about them, mostly in their small number. This wasn't an army, this was something else entirely and the people at the market couldn't help but eye them with suspicion.
Lukas was just going back to his business when the larger of the two men swung down from his horse, puffed up his chest and began to bellow.
"WHERE'S THE HEALER."
The shear volume of his voice was quite startling and you could hear the commotion as people gasped and stumbled about in shock. Lukas only blinked a little before putting his candles in his basket and turning to face the man.
"That would be me. Why?"
The man jerked his thumb towards the cart and said in a much more approachable volume, "he insisted that we bring him to you."
Lukas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, he couldn't think of anyone outside the village who would ask for him. But nonetheless he wandered over to the cart, reminding himself that this was a war wound and preparing himself for the worst.
Peering into the cart he found, to his surprise, a pitiful looking Mathias. Hi clothes were dirty, his hair looked disheveled and knotted, he had bruises all over from where the cart had jostled him. Most noticeably, he had loose dirt and blood-caked bandages hanging from one of his legs. The blood didn't seem to be contained to the bandages ether, there were brownish red splotches on the sides and bottom of the cart and his trousers were a wet crimson color.
Mathias clutched at the wound, making little moans and mumbles of pain. Lukas felt dismal just looking at him.
He was about to reach out and try to get Mathias' attention when the smaller of the two strangers slid off his horse and traipsed over to them, swinging a hefty black bag at his side.
"Look, I don't expect you to deal with this," the man began, "but he wanted you, and I could use some help if you're willing to give me some."
Lukas gave the man in impatient glare, "if you didn't want me to treat him then why is he here?"
The man bounced on the balls of his feet and ran a nervous hand through his puff of blond hair, "I… I'm sorry. It's just everytime I tried to treat him he would start begging me not to. He would whine and cry, squirm until it was impossible to help him, he kept asking for you. Eventually I just gave in."
Lukas raised an eyebrow, "and they let a pushover like you onto the battlefield?"
The man puffed his chubby cheeks up in a pout and scrunched his nose in irritation, "I'm not trying to get into an argument okay? And I'm not here to hear a critique of my work skills. I'm here to work with you and I'd appreciate it if we could try to get along," he thrust his hand out towards Lukas, "I'm Tino, and would I correct in assuming that you're Lukas?"
Lukas took Tino's hand and gave it a brief shake, "yes you would be."
Lukas flung the door to his home with a bang.
"Emil! We have company!" he gasped.
Emil only starred as Lukas began to rearrange the house. Dragging their kitchen table
to the center of the room, and building a fire in the hearth. Just as he was starting to get a steady flame Tino's horse came trotting up to the door..
The sound of the cart's wheels followed the sounds of Tino's horse and Lukas scurried outside to helped carry Mathias indoors. They set him on the table with a soft thump and Mathias gave a whine of discomfort.
Tino sighed and put his hands on his hips, "do you have any elderberry oil?" Lukas nodded, "Would you put it over the fire for me please? I need it boiled."
Lukas did as he was asked, pouring a jug of elderberry oil into a pot before hanging it above the fire like he would with a stew. He strode back over to the table and looked expectantly at the surgeon.
Tino unlatched his bag and dug through the contents before extracting a long wand like tool with what looked like a screw on the end.
Lukas couldn't help but gawk at it, "what is that thing?"
"It's a bullet remover!" Tino exclaimed proudly, "I bet you can't really get things like this out in the here, huh?"
"No…" Lukas said, " but what's the point of it? Aren't we just going to cut off his leg anyways?"
Tino shook his head, "nope, that won't be necessary. Could you hold his legs down for me please? He tends to flail."
Lukas put his hands just above Mathias' knees before leaning down with a good half of his bodyweight and watched quietly as Tino unwrapped Mathias' soggy bandages, tossing them to the side. He shoved the Danish man's pants legs up a bit further before pushing the bullet remover into the festering wound.
Mathias began to shriek and cry. Flailing his arms so they smacked at the table, swung at the air, and hit Lukas' head and shoulders. Lukas growled with annoyance and turned his head towards his brother, who was in the corner of the room watching the whole ordeal with wide horrified eyes .
"Emil get over here and hold his arms down will you?"
Emil gave a slow nod and reluctantly shuffled over to the table, gripping his hands over Mathias' arms and letting his head hang down towards the floor .
Tino began to turn the bullet remover by its wing like handles, grinding into the soft metal of the bullet. Mathias wailed and sniveled and howled and wept as the procedure went on, filling the cottage with the sounds of agony and shaking in Lukas' grip.
"There," Tino said with triumph, yanking the bullet out of Mathias' leg and holding his surgical tool up so that the others in the room could see, " it's out! Now, could one of you please bring me a ladle?" Emil quickly obliged.
Once the ladle was in his hands Tino went over to the, now boiling, pot of elderberry oil and scooped some up. He teetered back to the table, making sure not to spill any and positioned himself above the hole in Mathias' leg before pouring oil into it.
Mathias let out a ghastly screech, and began convulsing painfully on the table. Lukas felt awful just watching it, he couldn't even imagine how excruciating that must be...but as long as it was part of the healing process right?
However Lukas was quickly distracted from his thoughts by a shout, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
It was Emil. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide with fear and anger. He was gripping the table and trembling slightly. He look like he might say something, but Tino cut him off, turning to the boy with a warm smile.
"Don't get too worked up now, I know it looks scary, but it's necessary, the heat from the oil cauterizes the wound, it keeps him from bleeding to death."
Emil, clearly stunned and troubled by this information, turned to his older brother for confirmation.
Lukas noded, "Yeah, I hear it also works as an anti-toxin, the metal in those bullets is poisonous you know."
Tino gave a serious nod, "Oh yes, that too. See young man, it's very important that we do this," he turned back to Lukas, "I need to go back and take care of all the other wounded soldiers now. Keep that oil in overnight, I'll be back to check on him in the morning. Oh… I… I'm sorry, I guess I just assumed he would be staying with you. We… we can take him back if you…"
Lukas shook his head, "we can take care of him, don't worry. You've got enough to deal with I'm sure."
Tino's face bloomed into a smile, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said, walking up and shaking Lukas' hand with vigor, "I know you'll take good care of him, but oh goodness I really do have to go now, I'm sorry."
He jogged out the door, throwing a goodbye their way as he left.
Lukas sighed and shut the door. He took a blanket off of his bed and laid it over Mathias, wanting to make sure his patient was warm, and then he went to clean out the pot he had boiled the oil in.
He only heard a few soft whimpers from Mathias befor the Danish man fell asleep.
AN: I had a lot of fun doing research for this one! I did do my best to be accurate when writing this, but of course some things are gonna be off. Just a note to any other writers who might write a historical surgery, this method of cleaning bullet wounds is very specific to the 1500's and early 1600's (when this story is taking place) so if you're writing a similar surgery during a time period after the early 1600's I suggest that you go look up Ambroise Paré because he was the guy who kind of changed things up.
I'm really sorry for how late this is, but unfortunately the next chapter will probably be even later. I'm starting school tomorrow so I really don't know when I'll have time to write again, I'm sorry. But hey! We met Finland this chapter so that was cool.
Reviews are always appreciated!
I don't own Hetalia