Logs:I Don't Want To Go
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 26 September, 2010 |
| Who: K'del, Milani |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A painful reality, and an even more painful farewell. |
| Where: K'del's Weyr / Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 11, Turn 23 (Interval 10) |
  |
| K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Rank certainly has its privileges, and among them are amply appointed apartments. The short flight of stairs from the Weyrleader's Complex opens up into the larger of two chambers, formally decorated and clearly designed to cater as much to important guests as the occupant's personal living. Old, but obviously expensive, llama wool rugs dyed blue-and-black cover the stone floor, leading towards the second chamber, the stairs, and the rush-filled dragon couch and ledge beyond it. A formal seating arrangement - a sofa and chairs, all blue-and-black - sits around a large, tiled fireplace, whilst along the other wall, a finely made, if now somewhat antique, desk sits between a bookshelf and a tall cupboard to which tack-hooks have been attached, riding gear arranged neatly inside. Two tapestries hung from the high walls depict overdone splendour for High Reaches Weyr, one a long view of the snow-covered bowl, and the other a hazy impressionist piece of dragons flaming over a springtime countryside. The inner weyr, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area, is smaller and cosier and distinctly less ostentatious. An oversized wooden sleigh bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows and comforter, their covers dyed in varying shades of navy blue, light blue and bronze. There's a nightstand on either side, both with reading lamps, and against one of the other walls, a tall, heavy wardrobe made from a dark wood that matches the bed. The bathing area is part of the same cavern, a folding screen shielding the toilet and slightly raised, double-sized bathtub built into the stone, and a small shelf holding toiletries, shaving equipment, and clean towels. Late afternoon sunlight slants across the bowl and dapples Cadejoth's ledge, picking out the bright colors in a quilt abandoned across the arm of a folding chair. There's been a lot of recommendations for Milani lately to spend as much time in the sun as possible, even as the days grow shorter and shorter this far to the north. The ledge is empty now though, except for those earlier signs of use and the weyr itself is dark and quiet but for the low level flicker of flames in the hearth. Millie can be found curled up in a little ball on the couch staring at those flames and wrapped up in other blankets, looking a little flushed in the cheeks, but otherwise as listless as she has been since shortly after Nikalas was born. K'del's been at home as much as he can be, these weeks, but some duties are inescapable, such as the ones that took him from the weyr, today. Cadejoth circles carefully, as he and his rider check to confirm that the abandoned chair and quilt are the only thing on the ledge. The bronzerider picks up the quilt on his way past, folding it over his arm as he crosses the threshold into the weyr, a breath sucked in between wind-chapped cheeks. "Millie?" he wonders, aloud, blinking into the gloom with avid concentration, his voice wreathed with the same note of concern it's held throughout these recent weeks. K'del's arrival only lifts Milani's head a fraction, but it does lift. "Kas," she greets simply, voice quiet and lacking its usual brightness. There's a long pause as her focus seems to wander off and it's not until she's taken a deep breath that she adds in an almost puzzled manner: "It got chilly out." She's silent again, fingers plucking idly at the trimmed edge of the blanket. Setting the quilt down on a convenient surface, K'del crosses the room to join Milani, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and squeezing, then leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Earlier and earlier every day," he agrees, quietly. "Won't be long now until it's winter. Snow. Ice skating and sledding. Your birthday. Turnover." There's some kind of hopefulness in the way he says that; a forced brightness. K'del's arm around her sees Milani leaning into that embrace at least and her eyes close, cheek shifting to pillow against his shoulder. "So many things coming up ..." is what she says though and burrows her face into the fabric of his shirt. She's quiet again for a time then lifts her face enough to say softly: "They're saying I need to go where it's warm and there's sun in all the time or I might not ..." she waves a hand vaguely upward then drops it listlessly downward where it comes to rest atop his thigh. "Be myself again." K'del strokes Milani's hair as she burrows into his shirt, silent, though his gaze is fixed on her squarely. His breath catches, though, and his hand drops, when she speaks again: it's impossible for him to hide what he thinks about that, the way he needs to swallow several times before he can speak. But his words are firm enough: "Then that's what you need to do. You need to get better, Mil. And so we'll do whatever it takes. You'll-- spend some time in the sun. Weeks. Months, if that's what it takes. And then things will be better, and you can come back to us." Small-voiced: "I don't want to go." Milani tucks in a bit closer and her arm sneaks around K'del's waist, tightens there and she looks up at him agian. "But I hate feeling like this. I can't ... focus on anything. I feel helpless and hopeless all the time. I can't do my work. I can't even take care of Nik properly. I want to, so badly, but it's like everything just kind of ... slides away from me and I forget what I was doing. I zoned out the other day while I was changing him and didn't even realize how long it had been until he started screaming." She swallows hard on that one and her fingers tighten in the fabric of K'del's shirt. "Someone has to be here all the time to keep an eye on me keeping an eye on him." Both of K'del's arms wrap around Milani, now, and he tugs her in as close as he can manage, squeezing as though he's afraid to let her go. "I know," he says-- breathes, really, barely audible. And then, more certainly, "I know. I don't want you to go, either, but-- you're right. What's most important right now is getting you better. And the sooner you go, the sooner you can come back, and then everything will be all right again, and you /will/ be able to look after Nik." He looks very much like he's trying to hold back tears; one glistens in the corner of one eye, but doesn't fall. "it's going to be all right. Promise." A small noise sounds in the back of Milani's throat, but she doesn't say anything, just presses as close as K'del holds her. "Okay," she agrees after a short while, though there isn't much conviction in her voice and she slides down to pillow her head in his lap instead of against his shoulder, eyes sliding shut. "I'm so tired, Kas," Millie murmurs. As Milani drops her head to his lap, K'del begins to smooth her hair again, gently, with his fingertips. "Trust me," he says, with conviction enough for the pair of them, though perhaps edged with desperate determination. "Get some sleep, mm? I'll stay right here. You've got me, Mil. Not going anywhere. I love you. No matter what." A sigh sounds out and Milani goes still, asleep? Her fingers curl against K'del's knee though, perhaps betraying lingering wakefulness. "I love you too," she does say softly, then slowly relaxes and drifts off for a while. No doubt there are things K'del ought to be doing - and no doubt, eventually, his legs fall asleep. But he stays where he is, all but perfectly still, for as long as Milani stays asleep. Everything else? Can wait. When Milani wakes nearly an hour later, there's apologies for those pins-and-needles-ridden legs, but she does little more than push up to curl back into the corner of the couch. When food is brought for meals, she takes a few bites, then pokes uninterestedly at the rest and can easily be convinced to go to bed to find more sleep. In fact, she's been doing little enough but sleeping in short stints, between trying to take care of the baby, trying to look at paperwork and not getting much of anywhere with any of it. Several teas have been tried, but none of them seem to be working so far. In the morning, Emilly comes by to have a quiet word, then just as quietly goes about packing up some of her daughter's and granddaughter's things and later in the afternoon, packs up Milani herself as well as Milandra, to take them to Cove Hold. There's a cousin there, a retired healer who's more than happy to take care of family and try other treatments as well as the benefits of the balmy climate. Out in the autumn-chilled bowl though, Milani hesitates to go, looking around the bowl with tired eyes and a reluctant expression. K'del is happy enough for Emilly to take charge, today, though he's never been far away. He's not in the bowl, though, as they prepare to leave, not-- until there he is, emerging from the caverns at a careful jog, painfully careful to balance speed and the need to take especial care for the tightly-wrapped bundle in his arms: Nikalas. K'del looks as though there's an awful lot he wants to say, but by the time he reaches them, he only seems to be able to get out one desperate, longing word: "Millie." Milani takes a half-step toward the weyrleader and their son and her arms lift up to go around them both, one to K'del's neck, the other carefully slipped beneath the baby's head. "I'm sorry," she whispers to K'del, between kisses pressed to his cheek. She draws away a little, bends to press another kiss to Nik's forehead, brushes her fingertips against one plump little baby cheek and makes another strangled sound. Her gaze lifts back up to K'del and she tips her chin up to kiss him. "I'll miss you every day. Come visit often. Brink Nik when he's cleared for Between, please?" One more hug and her hand presses against his cheek, then she turns to climb up Sionath's side without any signs of her usual energy. Buckled in and bundled up, she winds her arms around Milandra who snuggles close and as they lift off, she looks down toward the ground the whole way, even when they're high in the sky above the reaches. Her hand lifts once right before the green vanishes Between, to blow a kiss back down on the autumn wind. "Don't be," says K'del, imploringly. "I will. I promise. I'll miss you, too." The rest of the words he'd probably like to say are abandoned, and instead, he puts his feelings into his hugs, his kiss, and the tears now openly running down his cheeks. They stand there, father and son, watching long after Sionath has disappeared, a silent pair of sentinels against the wind. It's only when cold rain begins to fall, many minutes later, that the bronzerider finally takes a deep breath, wipes half-frozen tears away, and heads back towards the caverns. He's true to his promise, though: frequent visits, usually accompanied with presents, or stories from home, and always, /always/ the latest about Nik, who will also join those visits, as soon as he's able. |
Leave A Comment