Logs:A Strange Gratitude
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 20 May, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, Tess |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Hattie comes to thank Tess. Tess has advice for Hattie. |
| Where: Healer Hall |
| When: Day 9, Month 11, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: C'stian/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions |
  |
>---< Healer Hall, Fort Area(#863RJs$) >-------------------------------------<
Patterned after its Harper neighbor, the Healer quadrangle is a couple of
centuries newer and the cut of its stone is noticeably different, as is
the tiling on the roof, which is brown instead of orange. Most of the
windows on the second floor are paned with clear glass, set back on deep
sills from where the heavy bronze shutters cling to the walls. The
west-facing front wing of the building is set with a gate that guards the
archway into the courtyard and a gatekeeper often sits on duty just
outside on a chair. Within the courtyard itself, wrought iron benches are
scattered strategically along the walls, right beside the doors that grant
access to each wing. Usually quiet but for the hum of apprentice
conversation and the clatter of feet on the flagstone paved ground, the
hall is a fairly restful place for those who have come for specialized
treatment.
Just outside Healer Hall, sandwiched between its southern wing and the
northern wing of the Harper Hall, a series of gardens serving culinary,
medicinal, and decorative purposes are bordered by the cliff wall to the
east and open meadow to the west. The hold road travels northward to the
hold itself and eventually to Ruatha and the Reaches and in the opposite
direction far south to Southern Boll and the Weaver craft. It's a grey autumn day, but at least no rain has fallen nor seems likely to, the clouds impotent in their gloomy determination to just stay above the Healer Hall and dampen the spirits. It is perhaps because grumpiness seems to come hand in hand with such weather that Tess may be found in the gardens, sitting on a low wall, legs crossed, hands on her knees and doing what might be guessed as deep breathing exercises. It's not a gold, chained as Fort's senior queen is to the Sands, that swings into view over the Healer Hall and deposits the Weyrwoman and their rider in the courtyard, but a green, who launches back into the air only moments later and seeks out a high vantage point at which to wait for both. The gold and greenrider part ways after a brief exchange of words, Hattie's footsteps carrying her towards the main doors of the Hall, until she hesitates and turns away with a shake of her head, her new path one that carries her towards and through the less populated gardens, muttering under her breath. It's possible that Tess isn't having much luck with her exercises, or just that when a shadow passes above, she's too eager to look up lest it be the dragon sent to recall her to her posting. She shifts in her position and tries to start again, only to find distraction in the garden, and then distraction soon enough after in the form of Hattie, of all people, entering it. The journeywoman is momentarily breathless as she rises onto her feet and stops herself from rushing toward the Fortian goldrider. A breath later, she manages a calm, but brisk pace toward the familiar face. "Weyrwoman Hattie," she greets as she draws near enough to do so without shouting. Hattie's focus is mostly on her booted feet as she makes that brisk progress along her chosen pathway, and so, when she hears her name, the muttering abruptly stops in such a manner as leaves her looking faintly startled when her gaze meets Tess'. It takes her a moment or so to school her features back to something closer to composure, before she inclines her head a little and greets, "Tess," in return, her voice steady enough. "How are you?" Tess's shrewd blue gaze is on Hattie's face and the fact that she's noticed is obvious in the way that the healer waves off the question with a hand in the air in favor of giving a furtive glance about before gesturing toward one of the unoccupied sections of the gardens. "What's happened?" is what she asks once she's relatively sure they're unlikely to be overheard. "Is Elaruth well? I heard Eliyaveith rose. They didn't... there isn't a problem, is there?" Between the queens. Wouldn't she have heard if something tragic had happened so close to home? Her concern is there to be seen in her face and it's reflected mildly in her tone. She might not be at Fort right now, but she still cares. Not one who has spent a great deal of time at the Hall, nor any Healer-occupied territory if she can help it, Hattie is content to rely on Tess' greater knowledge of where they're least likely to be overheard, and follows along at her side at a more sedate pace than she was maintaining a minute or so ago. "No," she's quick to assure, low-voiced, even if she can't sound terribly convincing about it. "There's nothing-- Elaruth will be off the Sands before Eliyaveith-- if Eliyaveith has need of them. A bronze, this time. Her clutchbrother." She laces her hands before her, how her fingers contort betraying some degree of hyper mobility. "...I came to see you, actually," she admits. "To say... thank you." Tess's brow puckers just slightly more at the lack of resolve, but she says with contrary cheer, "We shall have to hope that she will need them, for your Weyr. We shall hope, too, that Elaruth's settled before she does." There's a dry amusement there, though about which part isn't apparent. Then she hasn't much chance at covering her look of surprise. Blonde brows go up and she's stopping to turn and look at the older woman. "To thank me?" is repeated with more curiosity than incredulity. "For what?" "I think we shall have to hope that Lilah hopes, more than anything." She's earnest about that, for all that her comment is all but murmured, the remark not one that's dry or derogatory. If Hattie might have said more, those thoughts aren't given voice, for when Tess stops, she does too, and it's more difficult to provide a casual or low-key response to such a direct enquiry. Difficult enough that she swallows hard and squares her shoulders, steeling herself to speak more than preparing herself for what reply she might receive. "No matter your posting, I assume you're still bound by the rules of conduct for your craft," is more about buying time. "The diagnosis you gave me. While not... inaccurate, it's let me understand how I feel about something important, given that... I managed to conceive despite it." A nod answers the Weyrwoman's not-question; confidentiality still applies. It's almost certainly not professional to jaw-drop, but then Tess is young, so perhaps she can be forgiven her moment of distinct surprise. "Oh my," is what she manages as she schools her expression. "That's... surprising news," to buy a little time of her own. "Are you... how do you feel? Hattie's response to that surprise is dry, what time has passed enough to acknowledge the irony for what it is, without tainting it with any other, darker emotions. "Precisely," she mutters, with a quirk of her brows. "...I want to keep it," the Weyrwoman manages to state, after a deep breath. "...Whether I can or manage to is another matter. I'm not under any illusions. But if you hadn't implied that the chances were that I wouldn't, I wouldn't have know how I felt about that. So, as..." she searches for a word, any word but the one she ends up using anyway, "difficult as this is, I still appreciate it." Tess has sense enough to blush a touch in the face of Hattie's humor, but it doesn't stop her from saying more once she's considered the Weyrwoman's words. "It can be done, you know. There are cases where it has been. I took the liberty of doing more research on your original diagnosis since I've been here - without, of course, tipping anyone off." Privacy and all that. She bites her lower lip a brief moment before saying, "It's good that you know how you feel... do you know what you're going to do?" Sometimes the needs of feeling and the needs of doing are different. Another deep breath, this time as though to brace herself for what might follow, is the prelude to Hattie asking, "...And what did you find out?" in a voice that's so little above a murmur, her colour deepens in response to her incapability to speak 'properly'. As for what she's going to do, she casts her gaze self-deprecatingly skywards and shakes her head, lips curling slightly at their corners in what's not a smirk, but some small measure of self-loathing. "No," she confesses. "Not tell anyone." Beyond those necessary. "Not invite pity. Decide what I can live with." "A lot of useless things and some small amount of useful ones," Tess answers with some measure of grim humor. "I compiled the most relevant things and have it in my room. I was going to bring it, when I returned, but since you're here now, I can get it for you to take back with you." The healer glances back the way they've come but makes no move yet to go do that task. "It must be hard, to have all of your decisions, even the personal ones, so public." There's both sympathy and observation there, but not pity. "Deciding what you can live with is a big thing. Can Elaruth understand enough to be a sounding board while you figure it out? Will you tell your weyrmate?" "Thank you," Hattie says quietly, with no small amount of relief. The prospect of reading must be easier than having to face any number of things spoken aloud. Her not-smile turns vaguely wry. "Elaruth often knows what I want or understand before I do," she admits in an accepting, yet uneasy sort of way. "Perhaps I should just wait for her to tell me. With her own focus on her babies, I might not have to wait so long." It's a weak attempt at humour, the weariness of days past pinching at her eyes. "I've told him. It's... complicated. Whatever... happens, I don't believe either of us will be easy for a time." Tess's smile is gentle in the face of the attempted humor. "That would be one way to go about it. Though I'm not sure you strike me as someone who would wait for someone else to determine her destiny." She's quiet then a moment considering. "It would have been complicated even without the thoughts and feelings of someone you especially love being tied up in it, I suspect. I don't know how it's not downright overwhelming. Which, if you do want to go forward with the pregnancy, cannot be an easy thing to cope with in of itself." She glances back toward the Hall, "You should ask for someone, a midwife, to be with you temporarily. Even while you're just still figuring it out," she advises, "someone to help you help yourself not let the decision be made for you." "You mean if there's a pressing reason that the Weyr needs me to travel somewhere Between, and I let myself do so because it's for the Weyr?" It's not a challenge, but low-voiced acceptance; she must know herself well enough to deem such a thing a possibility. "Or Eliyaveith clutches and I let myself do the work of two weyrwomen, because it's necessary, when I've been expressively informed not to?" Hattie gives a shallow nod to accept both Tess' advice and acknowledge her own understanding of it. "It's difficult enough being on the Sands at the moment," she murmurs. "Then, if Elaruth wasn't, maybe this..." Wouldn't have happened? She sighs and squares her shoulders again. "I really did come here just to say thank you. It wasn't my intention to... be a burden." "I mean that, and so much more," Tess tells Hattie with a sort of resigned sadness. "Eating right, sleeping, not enduring so much stress," she lists off her previous concerns to add to the list. "Those are the sorts of things a companion who isn't your work assistant can prioritize and help you prioritize without drawing time and effort away from work. "You're not a burden, Weyrwoman, and I am available if ever you wish to speak. I hope to be back at the Weyr before spring," she hopes. "In the meantime, I'll get you my research and some recommendations of midwives available and willing for extended travel. Perhaps if you have time you can even meet with a few today and engage the services of one that's to your liking." She'll sound hopeful for that too, before moving off at a brisk pace toward the interior of the Hall she knows so well. Her return won't be long in coming and the farewells will be kept simple. It's probably less stressful that way for everyone. |
Leave A Comment