Logs:Woman On A Mission
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| RL Date: 23 March, 2009 |
| Who: Delifa, K'del, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Healer Hall |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: After Satiet's death, Delifa makes the official report to the Healer Craftmasters, along with a request of her own. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr / Healer Hall |
| When: Day 13, Month 4, Turn 19 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Madilla/Mentions, Satiet/Mentions |
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| Delifa was a woman on a mission. The morning had been - oh, how did you describe it? Shells, be frank: it'd been a nightmare. There were so many questions being asked, and so many rumours. Already, some people seemed to have decided that the healers had failed their Weyrwoman; already, some people had demanded to know everything, to have access to everything. The healers put their collective foot down, but since when did that do any good? And then there were the mourners, those who filtered in through the Infirmary, with tears and protestations of grief. In some ways, that was easier to deal with, but still: exhausting. Nightmare. Yes, that's what it was. Though High Reaches born and bred, she'd left at thirteen, turns before Satiet's Impression. Her childhood memories of the Weyrwoman were of Matheny; despite regular visits, she'd had no first-hand experience with Satiet until her return home, two turns ago. But she'd lost a patient, and no matter how inevitable, no matter how long one had to get used to the idea, that was never easy. By lunchtime, she had gathered her thoughts enough to be able to take her leave from the Infirmary proper; it was busy, but there were official things to be done, and it had fallen to her to do them. It didn't take long to complete her official report, and tuck it away, and then, she gathered up her coat, and headed for the bowl. Business continued, for many, despite the tragedy. Her request for transport on official business led her, in short order, to a tall, young bronzerider, waiting beside his dragon. "Bronzerider? I need to go to Healer Hall." "Of course, Journeywoman," said K'del, who looked tired, perhaps a little green about the gills, but dry-eyed, at least. "Hope it's not only doom and gloom you're delivering, today." She considered him, his handsome face in profile, as she strapped herself in atop the pale, bony bronze. "Not only," she agreed. "I hope some of my business today is distinctly more... positive." "After something, then?" He seemed genuinely friendly, interested. She nodded, telling him, "A favour. There's something I want for someone. I just hope my superiors agree." "I hope so, too," he told her, with a genuine smile, before he leaned down to rub his bronze's neck, and then the dragon hurtled himself into the air. Delifa was not especially given to maudlin thoughts, not after more than twenty turns as a healer; still, she felt herself tremble as they went Between, and she noted, with surprise, her own relief as they emerged unscathed, those moments later. They circled down, and then the young rider helped her to the ground, meeting her gaze squarely as he squeezed her hand, then let go. "Good luck, Journeywoman." "Thank you, Bronzerider." It was a long meeting. There was an official verbal report to be made, standard in the case of a death of a high profile patient. Delifa hated this. She'd always been happier locked away in a cool room with her herbs, but the High Reaches posting had required more patient contact - what did the weyr need with dedicated Pharmacists alone? - so she did her duty. She waited to make her request until all of it had been covered, and silence had fallen over the Craftleaders and their Journeywoman. She spoke to them of courage, of ethics, of compassion. And, "I know her. I think she needs this, but I also think she deserves it." "And her exam results, last time? You know what they were like." "And you know why. Exams... they're not everything. They're not really a sign of a good healer, they're a sign of what they can spit out on command." When she met K'del in the courtyard, feeling guilty about how long she'd kept him waiting, he was talking animatedly with a group of teenaged apprentices, probably a little older than her Madilla; probably around his own age. They seemed utterly enamoured of the boy, and though it wasn't as if he was unhappy with the attention, he looked, too, slightly awkward. That certainly wasn't what she expected of him. His head raised as he saw her, and he quickly made his excuses. She noted that all of them looked at her as he did so, sulky at first, and then less so; yes, they remembered her, their former teacher. She smiled at them, albeit a little severely, and then K'del was by her side again, and Cadejoth sweeping down to join them from the fireheights. "Did you get what you were after, Journeywoman?" "Yes, Bro-- K'del. May I call you K'del? I did." "You may," he told her, with suddenly serious eyes. "And I'm glad to hear it. Ready to go?" The return trip was easier, somehow, though Delifa felt grateful to be home as the weyr came into view once more. She made her thanks quickly, to K'del and his bronze, and hurried back into the caverns, back to the work that awaited her, back to everything. But she placed one hand atop her pocket, feeling the small lump within, and she smiled. That night, when Madilla crawled into her bed, exhausted and completely wrung-out, there was a hard lump beneath her pillow. For the first time since the morning, her tears came back in earnest, as she held the little bundle of cords in her hand and wished that, if it could undo all of this, she could hand them back. |
Comments
Satiet (Satiet) left a comment on Fri, 23 Sep 2011 01:32:39 GMT.
Even years later, reading this makes me love Madilla more.
Madilla (K'del) left a comment on Fri, 23 Sep 2011 02:02:57 GMT.
<3
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