[ Jaime winces. Learn-- Sansa might as well have held a knife to his throat and it'd be less of a torture. He has nothing but ill memories of learning, and if the web weaving was any indicator, he's sure he'll be just as terrible at this "healing" as he thinks he will.
And Jaime's no good at doing anything he isn't immediately skilled at. ]
...fine. [ He may be agreeing to it, but he isn't happy about it. As he rises to his feet, the boy stays close and clutches in his cloak. Jaime assures the landen man that there will be Medicos to take him with the rest of the survivors soon; Jaime, unfortunately, doesn't have the tools necessary to move him without pain.
He looks beyond to more of the wounded, seated and waiting for their turns, and sighs. ] If someone dies because I've failed at Craft, that'll be your fault.
[ The length of his left forearm glows green as Jaime bends, and he picks the boy up in one arm to hold him close to his chest. ] Let's go, then.
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And Jaime's no good at doing anything he isn't immediately skilled at. ]
...fine. [ He may be agreeing to it, but he isn't happy about it. As he rises to his feet, the boy stays close and clutches in his cloak. Jaime assures the landen man that there will be Medicos to take him with the rest of the survivors soon; Jaime, unfortunately, doesn't have the tools necessary to move him without pain.
He looks beyond to more of the wounded, seated and waiting for their turns, and sighs. ] If someone dies because I've failed at Craft, that'll be your fault.
[ The length of his left forearm glows green as Jaime bends, and he picks the boy up in one arm to hold him close to his chest. ] Let's go, then.