Logs:Mortality
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| RL Date: 12 November, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, N'muir, Elaruth, Bijedth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Death's reach finds Hattie's son. |
| Where: Weyrwoman's Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 4, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hasander/Mentions, P'draig/Mentions, Gethin/Mentions, Tabitha/Mentions, Mimi/Mentions, Nehmet/Mentions, Nimarie/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Death. |
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| At first, she didn't realise that the awful, inhuman sound that mingled with Elaruth's wavering keen of grief and shock was her. In those moments, she was lost, her wordless reaction one amplified and echoed back at her by her too sensitive queen, and all she knew was that she didn't know anything. Gradually, she began to notice that the only reason her body seemed to be remembering to breathe at all was so that she could make more of that noise. Every breath she dragged in only served to become sound, for it felt as if her chest had caved in and all higher thought had abandoned her, reducing her to nothing but basic, ungoverned instinct. And that was when she felt N'muir's arms lock tight around her, not to hold her, but to hold her, since he knew all too well what would follow. She obliged him and kicked out like an animal trapped, struggling to get free and push him away from her as the first of many she would drive off, given the chance. He'd pinned her arms to her sides and just held on as she attempted to fight her way from his grip, for all the good it would do her. It was no use. He was stronger than her, despite the decades between them, no matter how he might sometimes humour her. He knew what she would do. He knew that she was the one who had wrecked the council room. He knew she wasn't trying to get to Elaruth. She wouldn't want sympathy or sorrowful looks; she would want to be alone. Be left alone. Until the grief ebbed just enough for her to need to destroy something. Anything. Even herself. She was still making that noise. Elaruth was finally silent, a huddled, grey figure pressed against her mate, safe beneath his wing. Bijedth knew all that she did. Of course N'muir knew all that he did. She'd been told that her son was sick. She should have gone to him and ignored the risks to the Weyr and the rest of her family (the risk to her had never crossed her mind). She should have been there with him. He shouldn't have been left to wonder where his mother was while he suffered and was afraid and faced the dark. It should have been her, not him. "Hattie..." "No!" It was barely a word, just an absolute refusal to accept the reality of what she was facing. If she fought hard enough and focused just enough, she could undo it. If the world accepted one of the many ridiculous promises and bargains running through her head, everything would be okay. It would be fixed. Over. A nightmare merely imagined. She should have raised him at the Weyr, regardless of how he'd thrived with his father. She'd gone to see him every seven and been met by a happy, kind boy who knew where he belonged. There had never been any question of what was right for him. ...But if... if... Just one change, or little changes here and there, and he wouldn't be... Gone. Hasander was dead. Her boy was dead. The others. She would have... to tell the others. His brothers and sisters. Her children. She would have to tell them. How would she tell them? She needed N'muir to let her go; hadn't noticed that he'd become all that was holding her up. Silence rang loud in her ears for just a moment before the hoarse sound of her own sobbing rose up to engulf it. She acknowledged the world with split-seconds of awareness as she found herself pressed to Elaruth's hide and cradled by a tangle of bronze and gold limbs, the arms of her weyrmate now tight around her middle, no longer so restrictive. Even with three loving presences all but literally trying to keep her grounded, safe and secure, she found that she could wish for nothing but to be away and to leave the world behind. Her life for his. Please. Please. The world was not so kind. |
Comments
Irianke (22:05, 13 November 2015 (PST)) said...
This is heartbreaking. D:
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