For Dave Strider and Dave Strider

[not_only_wisdom]

Nynaeve is taking this time in the infirmary to portion out and label more of her simples, tisanes, and poultices for general use.

Her hair -- shorn now to her shoulders -- is pinned up, and she wears a yellow-fringed shawl on her shoulders.

" -- for headache," she mutters to herself, writing down dosage instructions in neat, even letters. "One cup at need, no longer than a week."

Comments

[stridersgonnastride]

It reminds him a little of Rose doing her Light thing.

"fucking weird but okay"

He takes a sip of the tea and curls his lip in disgust. "oh man that is rank did you brew this in a dirty sock or something holy shit maybe i changed my mind"

[not_only_wisdom]

Nynaeve doesn't smile, but her scowl soften just a fraction.

"I have teas whose only purpose is to taste terrible. You're getting off quite lightly with the sleepwell."

Just ask Egwene and Elayne. Or Matrim Cauthon. Or any number of other people Nynaeve has been friends and acquaintances with.

[stridersgonnastride]

"jesus really?? you're stone cold i can admire that. bottoms up"

He takes a big slug of the tea and makes another face.

"okay i thought it would be better faster like ripping off a bandaid but i am big enough to admit i was incofuckingrrect"

[not_only_wisdom]

"I've had some try pinching their nose shut before drinking. You could try that."

Nynaeve gives no quarter. But this isn't a deliberate punishment, she is actually trying to help.

So.

[stridersgonnastride]

Dave gives that a try. It's unclear whether or not it actually helps, but he gets the rest of it down.

"wrecked," he says, and then coughs.

[not_only_wisdom]

"Now, that's concerning. Perhaps I have another tea . . . "

She's kidding.

Honest.