Logs:Peaceful Means to an End
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 6 December, 2014 |
| Who: H'kon, Teris |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Telgar Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'kon gives Teris what she needs. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 6, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
  |
| In one of the infirmary's private rooms, Teris is still being held against her will in the increasingly distant wake of Iskiveth's death. It hasn't been long enough, though, and the former goldrider is only listlessly acknowledging the fact that she's not yet with her lifemate. She hasn't eaten since it happened and, considering the addiction that led her here in the first place, she didn't have much to spare for starving herself. She's gaunt and weak and generally doesn't do much lately, so the apprentices that have been watching her room have become slightly less attentive than they were to begin with. There's one currently sitting just outside of the cracked doorway, wrapping bandages, and they won't be stopping any visitors until Teris gives them reason to cut something short. H'kon is, at any rate, not an altogether unfamiliar face in the infirmary. He even gets a nod at the door, one without eye contact, one that might well be explained as simple reflex than any actual recognition or thought process. He's not a recurrent visitor to Teris, though, has not stepped foot near the infirmary, in fact, since Iskiveth went between. He enters now with that same set expression he's known for, passing into the room, and pausing once inside, before coming within reach of the ex-goldrider's bed. The fact that she's conscious is betrayed by the motion of her eyes toward the man that comes into her room. Teris doesn't say anything, though, and she doesn't move. There's a little green firelizard's head that pokes out from her hair at the nape of her neck, but she seems dull even without someone knowing her true colors. Like her person, she makes no sound, but she at least blinks with slowly whirling eyes at the man. Some sort of reaction is enough; H'kon moves forward quietly, not close enough to loom (even if he were taller), but near enough that, to speak in low tones, he's like not to be heard by those outside the room. Here, he opens his riding jacket, and reaches into an inner pocket. No introductions, just, "You have been alone for some time now." If he looks toward that little firelizard, it's a brief thing, "And not accorded the respect of a decision that ought be yours." A packet is drawn out of that pocket. Held before his chest, shielded from the door by his back. She might not be at her best and brightest right now, but Teris seems to understand what the man is saying to her. It's really the packet itself, though, that finally puts her into motion, albeit slowly. She starts to sit up, dull eyes focused on that point of his chest where he holds it. "What is it?" The question doesn't come out so much as caring what it is so much as needing to know what to do with it. "Not fellis," says H'kon, matter-of-fact and with the slightest lift of an eyebrow. "But if you should choose this path, it ought provide a more peaceful means of ending things." Still, the packet stays in front of his chest, close. Still, the brownrider watches Teris. That doesn't seem to faze her very much. Were the situation different, she surely wouldn't be considered cured of her addiction. But it's one of Teris' lesser concerns at the moment. "I don't care how it works. Just that it does." At least not in the context of what he's offering her. If she's not seeming very grateful, she might just have to be forgiven the circumstances. "The whole of it," H'kon specifies, lifting his head, with the effect of having to tilt his face a bit more down, and make those eyebrows the more impressive, "if you do mean to take it." And he's holding it out. "If you do not wish it, see it disposed of. The choice ought be yours. I do not pretend to understand." As soon as it's held out for her, Teris reaches to take it from him. He hasn't completely lost her attention, but she's looking at it now as though she might not even wait for him to leave. Hope is a strange contrast in the face of a rider grieving their dragon, but if ever there were a time to be hopeful, it's now. "Thank you," she does finally murmur, glancing up briefly at him and then past him toward the door. H'kon inclines his head to acknowledge that thanks, then turns, following Teris' gaze to the door. "I will leave you." On the balls of his feet, but allowing for a moment, should anything more be required of him. The moment allows Teris to tuck the packet away as she tells him more than requests, "Tell them that I'd like some more water on your way out?" Her hand stays over where the packet is now hidden for a few moments before dropping to her lap, her gaze on him again to follow him out as he leaves. A quick nod promises to do as asked. The brownrider turns, and makes his way out. |
Leave A Comment