Logs:Why Not Madilla?
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| RL Date: 21 September, 2009 |
| Who: Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Madilla wishes for a baby of her own. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 27, Month 10, Turn 20 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Delvana/Mentions, L'van/Mentions |
| Delvana was an adorable baby. Madilla knew, deep down, that she probably would have found any baby she had this kind of contact with adorable, but she couldn't help herself: she cooed and she clucked and sometimes it felt as though her ovaries were threatening to choke her in a desperate plea to be heard. Not yet, she found herself repeating to herself, day after day, as she helped care for her mentor's tiny daughter. Two turns. Less. Then... She tried not to think about the logistics of it, of how she would manage it, now that things were as they were. Caring for Delvana, though, made her happy, even as it made her miserable. A baby, even if it wasn't her baby, was better than no baby at all, and as Delifa struggled through her need to rest and recover, Madilla found herself spending more and more time with the baby, cuddling her and bathing her and changing her and putting her down to sleep. L'van was there, too, of course, and it wasn't as though she needed to do it all... but she wanted to. Wanted to. Her quilting was suffering as a result, but the baby blanket she'd been making for Delvana had been finished months ago, and the other project, the surprise one, wasn't 'due' as it were for a little while yet - it could wait. Perhaps her studies were suffering, too, but exams weren't for another month or two, either, and... surely this was more important. Caring for a baby still under observation, a baby small enough that all kinds of problems were possible, even probable. Not that she wasn't doing her share of work in the infirmary, of course. With Delifa still out of commission, and Ciendell so recently sent back to the Hall for some reason or another, they were drastically short staffed. Not, of course, that Madilla minded the extra hours here and there, or really, honestly, didn't feel a little bit proud and pleased to be trusted with so much more on her own, but... they were leading in to winter, and that, of course, had to be a worry. "I'll be back on my feet before the snows get deep," Delifa promised, when Madilla visited her that evening. "You'll see. We'll be fine, Madilla, I promise." But Madilla doubted it. Delifa was still so pale, and so easily tired, and true, she was enormously restless, frustrated with her inability to truly care for her daughter, but that didn't mean she was going to heal was quickly as she insisted. And you couldn't exactly forget that she was grieving, still. Madilla couldn't, at least. Couldn't. The dreams-- not like the ones she still occasionally had about Milani's baby, but dreams, nonetheless. The lost baby, abandoned to the cold forever. She shuddered. They were dreams best forgotten during daylight hours. It was better, then, to just keep working. Someone had to do the extra hours... why not Madilla? Why not? It wasn't as though she had anyone or anything else to really worry about. |
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