Logs:Penance
| |
|---|
| RL Date: 1 September, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Crom Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Irianke comes to see K'del at Greenfields. |
| Where: Greenfields Hold |
| When: Day 15, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: B'ren/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Mielline/Mentions |
| |
| In the hours since The Incident, Greenfields has been abuzz with activity: guards, harpers, healers, dragonriders, all set to work as best they can be. Aughan and Ienavi have evidently intended to stay (the former because he finds such turmoil fascinating; the latter because she can't seem to stop herself from getting into everyone's business as relates to her now-dead brother); Lady Crom and her mother have, accordingly, been getting into their usual arguments. The arrival of evening has put an end to outdoor investigations, however, and the hold has begun to sink into relative quiet. Up in one of the guest bedrooms, K'del lays on his stomach, half-conscious beneath a fellis haze, with a guard at the door and a healer hovering outside. His wound is uncovered, neatly sutured, but vivid against the pallor of his bare skin. Irianke manages to get through the red tape of visiting a dignitary by being one herself, the news and timing of the Reachian flight just one under layer of gossip for all the wagging tongues at Greenfields. On her way up is when Niahvth relieves Roszadyth of her duties and sends her back to the Weyr, while the senior queen sits by her new mate, watchful. For the goldrider, it's at the door, where the guard and healer are, that Irianke comes to a halt, approaching slowly and ultimately stops with low words. "I'm here to see my Weyrleader." For all the machinations that placed K'del in there, there's deep possession in the pronoun. Cadejoth is easier, now that he's closer to his lifemate, though it's with rapidly whirling eyes that he focuses his attention upon the hold buildings; it's still so far, and his rider still feels so... fuzzy. Inside, both guard and healer jump to attention at the weyrwoman's arrival, and after a moment's hesitation, the door is opened towards her. K'del stirs at the sound, blinking owlishly as he attempts to focus his gaze. His words are not wholly distinct, fuzzily syllabled, but at least recognisable: "You've sent Farideh home?" To say her expression is frozen in a mangled look of stunned and horrified is an understatement. Her breath catches and an unbidden hand flies to cover her mouth. "Ohhh...," anything she meant to say's emotions escapes in that long uttered sound. She tries to compose herself, too late, and nods her confirmation, even whilst moving slowly to sit by K'del's bed. Her hand seeks and finds his to slip hers over, petting the top of one gently. "I've sent her home. I've sent Sisha home to watch the Weyr while I sit here with you until morning." In case he didn't know, which is unlikely, but still, "Congratulations, Weyrleader." It's too soon for there to have been enough visitors for K'del to be used to that reaction, but at least he manages not to well up with tears, or-- or anything more than the fumbled half-nod that is all he can really offer in this position. "Farideh told me that much," he says, getting the words out carefully. "And then Cadejoth. It's--" Beat. "Sorry." That's certainly genuine. "You, too. Congratulations. Don't need to stay. S'fine. Weyr needs you, if I'm..." "No. No," she repeats, fiercer. Her gentle touch on his hand curls fingers to tighten to emphasize her negation. "No. I'll remain here until morning. The Weyr can survive one night. And then we'll reevaluate your condition and see if I can transfer you to Southern Weyr, so you can be in the warmth." There's a pause. "With your family." K'del's fingers attempt a turn in response, the physical touch obviously doing something to ease his obviously-troubled thoughts. "Southern," he says, with a half-giggle that is probably fellis-related. "Where High Reaches Weyrleaders go after someone tries to kill them." It is, belatedly, a sobering thought. "Won't be for long. Need to-- I'll heal." "No." As if speaking to a recalcitrant toddler, Irianke gentles this negation. "You will take your time. You will take the vacation you have not actually taken in turns and no, the time you grieved your lost lover and then her betrayal does not count. Recover. Recuperate. Set your affairs in order and return to me. Oh, K'del. What have you tripped yourself into this time?" It's a rhetorical question, the fingers over his hand softening their grip once more and before he might answer, Irianke begins to sing a low desert song, a little sad and morose. She has a pretty enough, if untrained, voice, dulcet and rich with an Igen country accent that rarely sees the light of day lately. Although his expression turns mulish to begin with, an argument lingering about that too-thick tongue, K'del is in no condition to argue. Besides, he's plainly not going to interrupt Irianke's song which-- much as if he were one of his smallest children-- sets those eyelids to flickering again, steadily closing for longer and longer. The battle may have been lost, but the war? There's always another day. Irianke does her penance, a low litany of words under her breath all night while K'del sleeps. If Pernese were prayerful folk, perhaps she's praying, but it's more than likely she's just hoping desperately that K'del makes it through the night better rather than worse. K'del wakes a few times in the night, but in addition to Irianke's vigil there's that healer on hand to provide another dose-- another bout of dreamless, mostly-painless sleep. As the thin, autumn sunshine begins to creep in through the windows, there's a new healer on hand to check in on the bronzerider, full of probing questions and an inspection of the wound at hand. It takes two of them to finally agree that he can be moved, even if they're not thrilled by the prospect; after properly bandaging the wound, they even allow K'del to sit up, and even put on a shirt. He moves slowly, with obvious pain, but his head is clearer. "Want to be able to think for a little while, and then you can dose me again." "I need you to think for a little while," says Irianke waving the healers off with an authoratively dismissive hand. "I need you to weigh in on a decision for the Weyr for the next month. B'ren or Mielline. I've thought of it all night and my mind settles on both of them as people I can work with nearly as well as I can work with you." "Mielline." Whatever vestiges of fuzzy-headedness remain in K'del's brain, that's an easy decision for him, one made with blue eyes trained directly upon the new Weyrwoman. "I'll want updates from her. Know I'm not on duty, but... once a seven. Just to keep me from being completely isolated from everything that's going on." "Agreed. Once a seven. She only delivers a report. You are not to weigh in." Good luck enforcing that one, Irianke! Is she pleased that he's selected Mielline, there's an odd not-smile on her lips. "Niahvth has informed Corobith that his rider is to report to my Weyr upon my return. Is there anything else, Weyrleader o' mine?" Plainly, K'del didn't expect agreement that that without an argument; his mouth opens, and then he stops, hesitating visibly. "Good," is what he says, after a moment more, lifting one hand to rub at his rumpled hair, his sleep-filled eyes. "Not... yet. We'll send word if there is anything. Once I'm back, we can begin in earnest." Irianke's smile is kind, perhaps even the slightest bit patronizing, though her tone seems genuine. "We've already begun in earnest, K'del. But take this time to rest and enjoy your family." The goldrider has already moved so that any healers might take her place by K'del, assist him, whatever healery things they do, and makes a slow, slow path down to where the dragons are. K'del opens his mouth to say more, yet again, but stops. A slow nod answers the new weyrwoman, before he allows himself to be escorted to his dragon, and from where, travel south, to the awaiting arms of his (no doubt very upset) family. She sees him to Southern and then returns to the Weyr, seeding news of K'del's state of health in deliberately selected dragon and people ears so that the news spreads quickly with little chance of mangled telephone games. Mielline appears at the evening meal with the knot of acting Weyrleader on her shoulder, escorting in the new Weyrwoman. |
Comments
Squishy (23:40, 1 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
You know . . . Irianke is positively terrifying. She sets up a man to get put out of the way, and then is as sweet as pie to him after.
Alida (02:50, 2 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
Ultimately, I believe Irianke is pragmatic. You work with what you got. ;)
Leave A Comment