Logs:I Can't Fix Him
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| RL Date: 26 August, 2009 |
| Who: B'tal, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Madilla isn't mad at B'tal. She's still sad, though, and there may (or may not) be tears from both parties. |
| Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 8, Turn 20 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: W'chek/Mentions |
| Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake. At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. It's a couple of days after Madilla's little epiphany that she actually makes good on her plans to talk to B'tal. It's evening, when the on-duty dragonhealer's brown reaches out for Jeibeth: « There's someone to see yours, if you're free? » And then, a moment later, less certainly, he shares the image: Madilla, leaning up against the bowl wall just outside the dragon infirmary, dressed in a pretty white blouse and blue skirt, her hair loose over her shoulder. « I will let him know, » comes Jeibeth's reply after a short time for consideration or, perhaps, sharing. « Thank you. » That's politely sincere. It's probably pushing the bounds of politeness by the time that Jeibeth lands in the bowl, however, and still the greenrider sits on top of her for a few moments, looking in the direction of the dragon infirmary. Then finally he's off, feet on the ground, and the way that Jeibeth holds herself, she might have threatened to roll over on top of him if he didn't. « Thank you, » says the brown, before retreating. On their arrival at the spot, all is much as it was in the image: there's Madilla, dressed in that blouse and skirt, her head lifted so that she can watch the descent, and then, the landing, the reluctance, and-- "You don't have to be afraid of talking to me," she tells him, in a quiet voice. "I didn't yell at W'chek; why would I yell at you?" And it may also be noted that though she's not smiling, she doesn't look angry or upset, either. Sad, maybe, but only a little. "I'm not afraid," B'tal says quickly as he moves toward the healer, eyes not quite focusing on her and certainly not meeting her own. Jeibeth hovers that short distance away, watching. "I'm not-- I just-- I..." can't think of anything appropriate to say. His mouth hangs open for a few moments and then he finally looks up to meet Madilla's gaze and says earnestly, "I'm sorry, Madilla." Madilla's expression implies she doesn't believe that, though aside from continuing to try and meet his gaze, she doesn't push that. "I know that. I don't think I'd be talking to you at all, if I thought you weren't." Though his pre-empting anything else she might have said does leave her, for a moment, looking awkward. Then, she digs into her pocket, and, having picked something up, holds it out towards the greenrider. "Here." B'tal looks like he'd like to say a lot more but he probably doesn't know how to put any of it from thought to words now that he's face to face with Madilla. Okay, he probably didn't know before then but it's even harder now. She offers a distraction from saying anything, though. He looks at her hand but he doesn't reach out for what she offers. "What is it?" he asks, lifting his gaze again Madilla doesn't open her hand to reveal it's contents, just keeps holding it there, waiting. "His mother's necklace. I shouldn't have it." Her hand shakes. "I thought about throwing it into the lake, but it isn't mine, really. So. Take it. Please." She swallows heavily, looking across at B'tal imploringly. "You can give it back to him, or keep it, I don't-- know how this all works." "Madilla," B'tal murmurs very gently in lieu of the other words he can't find. The look he gives her is some odd cross between sympathy and shame, but he does look at her instead of anywhere but her. He moves closer and he reaches out but it's to take her hand in both of his rather than taking the necklace from her. "I think he'd want you to keep it." Madilla's hand shakes, as her hand gets taken, as though she'd like to pull it away - but she doesn't. She swallows again, shuts her eyes, and then opens them again, watching B'tal. "It was his mother's. It belongs in his family. Not-- I don't think it would be right, for me to keep it. Please." The greenrider's touch is light and tentative. He shakes his head at her words, though, and the touch is more there, more firm. "I can't give that back to him. Not right now." It would crush him all over again says that look that passes over his expression. "He gave it to you, right? It's yours." There's a pause and he withdraws his hands, looking entirely awkward. Then, "What he wanted with you was real. He wants a family. Even I-- I mean, I guess I kind of liked the idea, too." Even if it would have meant him in the dark. Madilla, her attention so focused upon B'tal, can't possibly have missed that look. Her head dips just slightly, which may pass as a gesture of understanding, though she doesn't say as much. "It was-- a symbol, though. Of what we intended. And I--" She draws her lips together uncomfortably, and finally, shakes his head. "I know that, B'tal. What he wanted. What-- you wanted." She has to swallow back a lump in order to continue, though at least her eyes remain dry. "But he lied. You lied. I agreed to-- to something different. I can't fix him, because he's not broken." "If you can't keep it, find someone else to give it back to him," B'tal murmurs but not unkindly. He can understand not wanting to keep something like that, definitely. "I just-- I can't do it." The weyrling looks down now, features tight with shame. "I wanted to tell you. I hated not telling you. I'm sorry I didn't, that you had to hear it from someone else." B'tal looks up at the last of what she says, searching the healer's face. "I hope he realizes that." Slowly, finally, Madilla nods, drawing her hand away from B'tal's so that she can return the necklace to her pocket. "I understand," she tells him, earnestly, if somewhat reluctantly. "I know. I believe you, I do. I just--" She takes a deep breath before she answers the last, and as she does, she sounds enormously sad. "I don't think he does. I wish he did. I wish he could just be happy with what he is. Who he is." "He might be. Eventually." B'tal looks sad, though maybe not quite sullen. He watches the necklace return to Madilla's pocket, then glances over his shoulder where Jeibeth is still waiting but not watching as intently. Looking back at the healer, B'tal's face twists uncertainly, "Do you think that you could forgive us someday?" Not just W'chek. "I don't-- do you think we could still be friends?" One thought dropped to just ask what he wants to know. "I hope he will be. He needs to stop thinking of himself as a monster." Madilla looks sad, too, and adds, "I hope you can help him stop thinking that." His question draws a pause from the healer, who draws her hand from her pocket again, and lets it rest at her side, fingers smoothing the dark blue of her skirt. "I already have," she tells him, plainly. "It hurts, and I'm still trying to figure out how to fix-- what to do. Now. But I hope we are still friends, B'tal." A smile flickers across B'tal's lips and it chases away just enough of the sadness for the greenrider to look hopeful for a moment. Friends. They can still be friends. He can't help liking that. But he schools his expression soon enough, which he's probably had a good bit of practice with since this all came out. Emotional extremes are difficult to achieve when you're feeling such a wide variety. "What to do?" he wonders out loud. His smile is enough to make Madilla smile in return, a sort of rueful, awkward one, but a smile, nonetheless. Of his question, she simply shakes her head. "Before... I knew where I was going, how I was going to get what I wanted. None of that's the same, now. I'm--" She pauses, takes a deep breath, and the continues, "I have to take charge of my own life, now, to work out what /I'm/ going to do, to get what I want. That's all." B'tal thought he knew what Madilla wanted but now he's maybe not quite as sure. The returned smile makes his linger but he looks uncertain and then awkward when he asks, "What -do- you want?" Pause. "That's good, though. Taking charge. I'm still... trying." But he doesn't want to talk about himself. He wants to talk about Madilla and he lifts his brows to prompt her on. "It's hard," admits Madilla, letting out a sigh. "Trying to take charge. When you're not used to doing it. But. I think I need to." Her fingers play with her skirt again, like it's a nervous gesture, which perhaps it is. "I want a family. That's always what I've wanted. I want to get my Journeyman's knot as soon as I possibly can, and then, I want to be a mother." She seems surprised by the question; she, too, thought that her desires in life were pretty obvious. B'tal watches and listens, noting the fidgeting, something he hasn't been quite as bad about himself. He might miss the surprise, though, since his gaze drops at the whole mention of family and Madilla being a mother. He knew that. Maybe he expected a different answer for some reason. "Can't you and Whit still be a family?" he asks but he frowns when he asks it, perhaps realizing how it sounds to people that aren't him. Madilla bites at her lip as the question gets asks, and though she shakes her head, it's a helpless kind of a shake, not a 'no'. "I don't know. It's-- different. It would have to be different. I can't marry someone who-- it would have to be different. And I don't know yet, if it would be the right thing. It still hurts too much." Her tone is even throughout that, right up until that last sentence, when it cracks and breaks, and she has to swallow, mid-word. The way that B'tal looks at Madilla, the way he tenses and looks a lot more restless, might make it more obvious that he wants to comfort the healer, hug her. Something! Something except just standing there like he does looking terribly like himself, at any rate. "I'm sorry," he repeats, then, "Maybe I should go. I didn't mean to--" But he cuts himself off and Jeibeth stirs beyond him, turning her attention back to the pair. Madilla could probably use a hug right now, maybe even was hoping for one, but she makes no move to initiative it herself, instead just standing there, helpless, her hands dropping silently back to her sides. "I-- no. Please." Her gaze slides from the greenrider to Jeibeth, unhappily, and then back. "I know you didn't. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I want the two of you to be happy. I'm glad you don't have to hide anymore, truly. You'll be better off, without me. Happy." "Madilla," B'tal says her name and it comes out perhaps sharper than he might have wanted it to because he looks briefly sheepish. But that doesn't keep him from continuing, "Don't... don't apologize to me. And don't... say that." The greenrider shakes his head. "W'chek would have been happy with a family. And me-- well, I wanted to be close, you know? You'll probably have a whole herd of kids before Teris gets going." Yes, he's thought about this. "Anyway. I care about you. A lot. And I know W'chek cared about you, too. So just... don't say that." The sharpness certainly makes Madilla freeze, and for a moment, look as though she's actually going to cry - though she doesn't. Her lips part slightly, instead, a little breath escaping, and silence until B'tal's finished. "I don't mean it like that," she promises, with a light shake of her head, curls bobbing across her shoulders. "I don't mean he wouldn't've been. He would've. We would've. But he would've been living a lie, and this way, he doesn't have to." She swallows, and then, after a pause, and in a very small voice: "He doesn't care anymore?" It's the closest to outright self-pity she's gotten. It's the small voice that makes B'tal forget why he wasn't hugging Madilla and he steps toward her with full intent to wrap his arms around his friend. "Oh, Maddie... I didn't mean it like that. Of course he cares. He does. I promise." B'tal falls silent, not wanting to continue with the wrong thing. But, for once, there's nothing at all awkward about him in regards to the healer. Madilla's arms barely move, but it's almost certainly encouragement for the hug; once his arms are around her, hers reach up to wrap around his neck and to hold on, her head burying itself into his shoulder. "You're sure?" Her voice is muffled, and there are probably tears. "I just... I miss it. Having him. All of it." His arms tighten slightly around her when she returns the embrace, earnest. "I'm sure," B'tal says. "I'm positive." Just in case sure isn't good enough. The greenrider turns his head to press a kiss to Madilla's and he draws in a breath that might hint at the possibility of tears, too. "Maybe you should talk to him. Maybe you can still have him. Be friends. Maybe--" he pauses, voice hitching just before he catches himself. It may not be visible, but Madilla's eyelids flicker closed in the wake of that kiss, and for some time, she simply breathes, perhaps intentionally breathing in the comfort of it all. When she draws her head back up, though her arms remain firmly around the greenrider, there's a definite choke to what she says. "I don't know if I can, yet. I don't-- I don't want to cry at him, again. I need to stand on my own feet, first. Can you understand?" With someone else, he might feel the need to wipe his cheeks but here with Madilla, B'tal just holds onto her. Her words make him swallow. He doesn't answer right away and when he does, his voice is quiet, "I can. I understand. It's probably a good idea." He can't really deny that. "And you-- if you ever need anything. Anything. Tell me. Anytime. Okay?" So that might defeat the 'standing on her own feet' thing, but this is B'tal. Madilla has to swallow, too, before she responds again, though her head nods several times, and despite her tear-stained face, she has the slightest of smiles for him. "I will," she promises him, genuinely. "Thank you, B'tal. I--" Deep breath. "Should go in. I said I'd sit with Delifa. But--" She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, damp eyelashes close enough to his face to touch it. "Thank you. I'm glad we're okay." B'tal closes his eyes when the kiss touches his cheek and when it's gone, he loosens his arms so that Madilla can move away freely. "I'm glad we're okay, too." There's a small smile and he looks, for a moment, like he might say something else but instead he doesn't and lets his smile grow a little more. Then, "Take care of yourself, Madilla." Madilla uses her hand, now, to wipe some of those tears away, but she's smiling genuinely, now. "You, too, B'tal. And-- take care of him, will you? Give him a hug for me." She doesn't wait for an answer to that, as though she's afraid anything more will make her cry outright, more. So she simply shrugs, gives him one last smile, and then turns away, into the dragon infirmary and out of sight. |
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