Summary

Camelot's two new physicians – one with magic and one without – try to find common ground to work effectively together.

Author's Note:

Thanks to MushroomWarrior26 for the suggestion to employ both physicians when I couldn't make up my mind. Stay inspired, my young friend. And thank you, Charis77, for all you do to inspire.

Chapter 19 Best of Both

Leonard Vanne moved about Gaius' old chambers, pride surging as one of Camelot's newest physicians. After years of treating patients from his midtown dwelling, the storied chambers of the palace presented an exciting challenge, though he missed working with his wife and young son back home.

He tucked a strand of dark blond hair behind his ear as he meticulously arranged his tools in a cupboard. Leonard relished the spacious quarters and abundant resources now at his disposal. Drying herbs hung on the door, their earthy scent mingling with the sharp, acrid odor of bubbling potions. Across the room, a workbench stood cluttered with vials and alembics, the gentle burble of simmering concoctions providing a soothing backdrop to his work.

Leonard rubbed his hands on the apron protecting his modest shirt, smiling with satisfaction at his arrangement. Glancing around his new workspace, stone steps led up to a loft where books lined the walls, their leather spines hinting at the wealth of knowledge they contained. Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through a small window, lending the room an almost magical quality. The space had served as the Gaius' chambers for decades, its walls seeming to whisper the secrets of countless healings. His entire legacy was now Leonard's to steward and build upon, a responsibility that both thrilled and humbled him.

But Leonard's gaze drifted towards the back room, wondering what his colleague was doing with the newest patient under their care. Though much younger than his counterpart, Leonard was eager to prove himself to the man and the crown, even if it meant sharing the position with a druid.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Master Ruadan Firestone emerged from what had once been the Court Magician's quarters, now repurposed as a private space for patient care. The scruffy-bearded man cut an imposing figure, his flashy ring and amulet contrasting sharply with Leonard's modest appearance. He wore a sword strapped around his thick, belted robe while outside these chambers. Here within, the longsword hung on a peg behind the door, out of the way yet easily accessible. Even without the blade at his side, Ruadan exuded an air of mystique that seemed at odds with their healing profession.

He crossed to the display of tinctures along one wall and plucked a bottle from the shelf. "This chamomile will do well for the inflammation," he remarked. Then, casting a sidelong glance at Leonard, his eyes glinting with amusement and mild reproach, he added, "By the way, you should organize these by use, not color."

"I prefer it this way," Leonard replied in a measured tone. "Color-coding allows for quicker identification in emergencies, especially when working with apprentices who may not yet know all the uses." He shook his head slightly as he moved to reorganize some nearby supplies, his actions deliberate and confident.

"My apologies," Ruadan said with exaggerated courtesy. "I was merely trying to help." He paused, picking up a salve from another shelf, and then pointed to others. "These should not be placed in sunlight. It can damage their properties."

Leonard's jaw flexed, but he came to stand beside Ruadan, looking at the placement of the jars thoughtfully. After a moment, he conceded. "A fair point." He collected the jars, gnawing his bottom lip as he rearranged the assortment of salves.

This tense exchange had become a familiar dance between them since Gaius' departure. While Leonard was learning to appreciate Ruadan's knowledge, the man's self-assurance still unsettled him at times. Nevertheless, Leonard understood the importance of their shared mission. Ruadan might be pretentious, but for the sake of Camelot and their patients, Leonard was determined to find a way to collaborate effectively with the druid. After all, Gaius had thought him a good fit for the role as well, and the older man did seem to possess a wealth of medical knowledge.

Ruadan gestured to a different set of jars on another open shelf Leonard had organized yesterday. "These look well-arranged," he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "I've been meaning to ask you about them."

Leonard blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. He straightened, caution in his posture. "They're newer remedies I've been working on – a blend of traditional herbs and some mineral compounds Gaius and I were experimenting with before he left."

Ruadan's eyebrows rose slightly, a flicker of interest crossing his face. "Mineral compounds? That's an unusual approach for herbal medicine."

Leonard nodded, his voice calm and informative. "Yes, it's a technique Gaius learned from some traveling healers from the East. We've found that certain mineral salts, when combined with herbs, can enhance their efficacy. For instance, this one here," he pointed to a greenish paste, "combines yarrow with a copper-based compound. It's remarkably effective for treating infected wounds."

"Intriguing," Ruadan replied, his usual patronizing tone replaced with genuine curiosity. "I'd be interested in learning more about this method."

Leonard managed a small smile. "I'd be happy to share what I know."

With a nod that seemed slightly less aloof than usual, Ruadan sauntered towards the back, Leonard watching his retreating form.

The druid certainly had flair, even charm on occasion it seemed, but after a week of working together, it was becoming clear they needed to have a more in-depth discussion about their roles and responsibilities. Before Ruadan could disappear into the back room, the chamber doors burst open with a sudden bang. Two guards stumbled in, one supporting another who was clearly in distress.

"Help! He's been injured!" the unharmed guard shouted, urgency in his voice.

Leonard and Ruadan rushed forward, converging to support the wounded man. In their haste, they collided awkwardly, nearly causing the guards to sway precariously.

"What happened?" Leonard demanded, gripping the wounded guard's arm to stabilize him as Ruadan replaced the uninjured guard on the other side.

The injured man groaned loudly, his face contorted. "S-stupid accident," he managed through gritted teeth. "Training... sword slipped..."

"He was demonstrating a routine move to the recruits," the other guard explained hurriedly behind them. "The blade caught his thigh—"

"Here, sit him down before he collapses," Leonard instructed, attempting to guide the pale guard towards a bench.

"No, no, wait," Ruadan countered, gently tugging them in another direction. His eyes flashed gold, and suddenly a patient cot floated swiftly across the room. "Use this instead."

"Careful now," Leonard warned, momentarily startled by the magical display. "We need to—"

But the injured man's legs gave out, slipping from their grasp as he collapsed onto the cot with a pained cry. Leonard knelt swiftly beside the prone figure, his hands already moving to assess the wound.

"Let's stanch this bleeding immediately," he said urgently. "Master Ruadan, be so kind and pass me the yarrow powder and clean linens."

Ruadan nodded, quickly reaching for the supplies. He handed them to Leonard, then rolled up his sleeves.

Leonard sprinkled the yarrow powder onto the wound before pressing down with the linen wraps. As he applied pressure, he noticed a faint purple glow emanating from Ruadan's hand, and the druid chanting strange words over the injured guard.

"What... what are you doing there?" Leonard asked, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

Behind them, the uninjured guard hovered nearby, wringing his hands. "Will he be alright? Should I fetch the captain?"

Ruadan kept his palm steady above the patient. "Just a small spell to ease his pain. It will help him remain still while we work."

Leonard nodded. "Very well." He continued to pressed his hand on the wound. Even though the gash was deep, the injured guard's pained expression began to soften, his tense muscles relaxing as Ruadan's magic took effect. After a few moments, Leonard checked the wound. "The bleeding has slowed significantly. I'll clean and treat it now."

"I suggest we use the comfrey tincture," Ruadan said. "It's excellent for promoting wound healing and preventing infection."

Leonard shook his head as he rose, moving purposefully towards a specific shelf. "In this case," he said, retrieving a small jar, "I believe my special calendula salve would be more effective." He returned to the patient's side. "It's mixed with one of those mineral compounds I mentioned earlier – a copper salt. It will not only prevent infection but also significantly accelerate tissue healing."

Ruadan's eyebrows rose slightly. Leonard knelt, his voice carefully neutral. "If you continue your pain-relief spell, I'll apply this salve. We should see some notable results in a few days' time."

As they worked together, Leonard meticulously applied his unique calendula mixture while Ruadan, his fingers tracing intricate patterns in the air, maintained the soothing magical aura around the patient. Their different approaches seemed to complement each other, but Leonard couldn't shake a nagging sense of unease. He found himself working faster, determined to demonstrate the value of his own mundane skills.

The uninjured guard watched in amazement. "I've never seen anything like this," he whispered. "Is this how all treatments will be now?"

Leonard and Ruadan exchanged a glance, a hint of competition flickering between them. "We're still figuring that out," Leonard replied diplomatically, trying to mask his concern.

As Ruadan's magic continued to glow, drawing a look of awe from the uninjured guard – the other now unconscious – Leonard focused intently on his own work. He applied the calendula salve with practiced precision, all the while acutely aware of how his subtle, methodical approach might be perceived next to Ruadan's mystical techniques.

"The bleeding has stopped completely," Leonard announced, wiping his brow. "Now we just need to—"

"Allow me," Ruadan interjected smoothly, his magic already moving bandages to hover above the wound. The strips of linen began to glow faintly as they wove themselves around the guard's thigh. "I have a technique that will ensure the dressing stays in place even during vigorous movement."

Leonard's jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded, stepping back to allow Ruadan to finish the treatment. He turned to the uninjured guard, trying to mask his unease at the magical display. "Your friend will be off his feet for about a week. We'll keep him here for a few days before he returns to the barracks. Inform your captain."

The guard nodded, casting a final concerned glance at his comrade before reluctantly leaving the chamber.

As the door closed behind the departing guard, Leonard returned to observing Ruadan closely, torn between admiration for the druid's skill and frustration over their vast differences. Everything from their medical treatments to their attire and demeanor seemed to contend with each other, creating an invisible rift in the very air of their shared workspace.

Despite these differences, he couldn't deny the older man's dedication and skill. Ruadan might employ magical methods that defied Leonard's understanding of natural law, but he was clearly a committed healer. Still, the need for clear boundaries and a defined working relationship gnawed at Leonard. How could they possibly bridge such a vast gap in their approaches to medicine when one relied on herbs and reason, and the other on spells and mystical energies?

Leonard took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he knew they needed to have. He watched Ruadan finish weaving magic to bandage the guard's wound, weighing his words carefully.

"Master Ruadan," he began, his voice steady despite his inner turmoil, "your skills are... impressive. I wonder if we might discuss how best to balance our respective skills for future patients?"

Ruadan paused, the golden glow fading from his eyes as he met Leonard's gaze. His expression softened unexpectedly, the usual air of superiority giving way to something more thoughtful.

"You're right, of course," Ruadan replied, his tone surprisingly warm. "I sometimes get carried away with my abilities, but I shall respect your position and expertise. As you are head physician, Master Leonard, it's your prerogative to guide our practice and determine that balance."

Leonard blinked, surprised by Ruadan's sudden deference. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I... thank you, Master Ruadan. Shall we start by looking for an apprentice or two?"

Ruadan hummed in agreement as he rose, preparing to return to their other patient in the private room. "Someone who could learn from both our methods."

As Ruadan turned to leave, Leonard felt a sudden urge to continue bridging the gap between them. "Master Ruadan," he called, causing the other physician to pause and turn back. "Your magic – I know it will greatly benefit many. Will you tell me about it one day? How – where you learned it?"

Aged blue eyes studied him with an inscrutable expression as if the request held some hidden, profound meaning. The usual rigidity in Ruadan's shoulders softened, replaced by a subtle tension that spoke of long-held secrets. After a moment's consideration, he took a calming breath, the corners of his lips lifting in what appeared to be a genuine smile.

"You surprise me, Master Leonard," Ruadan said softly, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "Perhaps... yes, one day we might discuss it."

Leonard smiled gently in return, sensing the years of wisdom and pain likely hidden behind the aloof exterior Ruadan displayed. He hoped that in time, real trust and understanding could grow between two men from such different walks of life.

As Ruadan disappeared into the back room, Leonard turned his attention back to the guard, ensuring he was comfortable. Yet his mind lingered on the exchange with Ruadan. Perhaps together, their contrasting talents of magic and mundane medicine could strike a balance, providing the comprehensive care Camelot's future patients would need.