Difference between revisions of "Logs:Harmless"

Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr

Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients.

About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like.

It was a long, long, long, long night for all that the labor was under eight hours. Then again, time has a funny way of becoming mutable where babies are involved. Maybe it only seemed long to Tayte. Maybe it seemed longer because the times in between sending the messages to first H'vier and then to K'del and the responses to them seemed interminable. The response from H'vier wasn't even really a response from H'vier but rather the terrified weyrling who could only confirm that Reisoth had gotten the message before fleeing from the fierce near half-frantic mother-to-be(-again). No one could blame the weyrling for taking her request to contact Cadejoth through one of the healer assistants. And no one could blame any of them for not wanting to be the one to tell the woman that K'del was unavailable.

Needless to say, she was exhausted by morning and not made less so by H'vier's appearance or K'del's much later one. By the next morning, the word was that the bartender and babe were up for short visits with non-family. But that doesn't mean that there isn't family to be seen too. Mid-morning sees the back of Jeyli's dark-haired head heading toward the bowl, ushering an older couple with Bitran badges ahead of her. But that frees up Tayte for visitation by her local rider friends. When Telavi arrives, the shock of red hair identifies the man sitting awkwardly cross-legged in a chair next to the bed, one arm curled across to wrap fingers around the opposite elbow while the other arm juts upward to let his fingers curl across his baby face and the hints of an attempt at a goatee. "It was good of you to come," Tayte's voice is gracious, if threaded with the inescapable hints of exhaustion and of another variety that seem to be more escapable by U'by, but would likely read as a distress signal to anyone more socially inclined.

Beautifully furs-clad Telavi-- having escaped the weyrlings with sufficient notice, for Tayte she's substituted striking-and-warm for efficient-and-warm-- makes her soft-footed way inside just in time: just in time to hear, green-today eyes flashing towards that voice's source, just in time to let them slip after a moment towards the other visitor and soften with her near-silent sigh. Tayte gets a smile, but her fellow greenrider a soft-voiced yet very certain, "It's my turn now, U'by." For all that it may be lost on him, her tone is that of a confidant's, accompanied by a brush of her hand for his elbow once she's crossed the distance between them; if even more specific words are required, she'll resort to those too, and then-- if he does depart-- murmur to Tayte, "You may boot me out too, you know."

There's blushing, of course, and general flusterment, but there's no argument and in fact a lot of dissembling as U'by ushers himself out after Telavi's more obvious prompting. There are further niceties from Tayte, but once he's gone there's a smile for Tela that, while tired, is both relieved and grateful. "Oh, no. Of course not." Not that she couldn't, buth that she won't. But in the next moment, Tayte is stifling a yawn with the arm not wrapped around the tiny sleeping babe, and she relents to add, "Maybe just a short visit though." Then, immediately: "How are you?"

That addition gets the vintner the immediate gift of Tela's smile, softer than the brilliance that U'by had received but amused nevertheless; she's unabashed about craning for a glimpse of the young mite as she approaches the side of Tayte's bed, too, practiced fingers taking care of the furs' clasps without a glance. It's when she has them bundled over one arm that she can reply truthfully, "No longer sweltering," what with being inside, and moreover, "Delighted to see you. You look practically pacific," this with a tilt of her head to where her 'chum' reclines in state, the greenrider's gaze skimming along Tayte's uncomplicated braids and pale pink nightgown.

There's amusement in her face for the answer. But Tayte's not one to be put off so easily. "Did you have fun on turnover?" But once she's asked, she allows the subject to turn on her. Gently, she shifts the babe in her arms so Tela can take a gander more easily. "Pacific." She considers the choice of adjective with an amused look, if one tinged by just a little bitterness. "I suppose I am, at least outwardly. I didn't kill any of the men in my life when they finally mosied on in from their individual Turnover frivolities." Frivolities, it goes almost without saying, that could not possibly have been more important than the fact that Tayte was in the infirmary squeezing the slender yet sizable baby out of... Well, somewhere unimaginably small.

"More fun than you did," Tela immediately teases, even before she duly admires the product of Tayte's... squeezes. She looks, from this angle and that and with a complimentary murmur, but there's no attempt to invade their space and touch; once she's ever so carefully tugged U'by's chair to a better, or at least preferred angle so she can sit, Telavi even keeps her voice low in further reply-- never mind that the women had been talking in relatively normal tones before, and the little girl hadn't yet been bothered. "I am amazed. Amazed that you didn't kill them. Not that frivolities aren't fun, when you can get them-- and it's just as well that you specified separate so I didn't imagine those two men together-- but still. My frivolities involved very frivolous drinks with the Benden girls--" 'girls' could almost be capitalized, the way she says it, for all that that group's hardly just Bendenites or just girls-- "and no, we managed to escape running into weyrlings doing anything they oughtn't, and yes, we stopped by your old bar, which hasn't burned down," Tela can't seem to resist letting her dimples emphasize the predictable, "Yet. And then dancing." Her smile widens. "I hope they appreciate their great fortune."

"Truthfully, I'm surprised I didn't kill either of them either. I reserve the right later, when Tahvra isn't present. But it'll probably be a turn at least before that will be the case. So, perhaps they can somehow find a way to make it up to me," Even if missing the birth of a child when the excuse was drinking too much is probably an unforgivable offense. "Maybe I'll forgive Havi if he turns out to be a halfway decent father figure," Of which she almost certainly still has some doubts. "K'del," That's all. That and the way she screws up her face in brief frustration. Thankfully, Tavi is sleeping, so she's not going to pick up on that particular expression. "Drinks and dancing, and Ista," It's said almost wistfully, "Now that sounds like a fun Turnover." Beat, "Have anyone special join you?" The question is almost pointed about their mutual brooding bronzerider problems, but it allows for wiggle room if the greenrider's moved on.

So too does Telavi have doubts, if her comical expression is anything to go by, though at least she manages to keep it from being audible; there's a more solemn nod to go with it for K'del, and another peek at the baby with a slight cock of her head: too long to just be checking if she's napping, perhaps trying to suss out which features-- beyond the unmistakable so-blonde hair-- resemble whose. She's still looking at the baby when she smiles, that gradually deepening curve coloring her eyes with warmth. "It was fun," she says. "K'zin," and if a caesura can lilt, hers certainly does, "didn't even run when he saw the girls, or try to mack on them." Three guesses which of the other bronzeriders might have done which. "Which doesn't mean I didn't rescue him earlier over later... It was fun. I have a good feeling, Tah."

Would Tayte really need three guesses with the bronzeriders in question? Really? At this young age, only a few features can be readily identified, and none are the most interesting what with eyes and hair color being so changeable in early life. Tayte's ears, maybe Havi's nose? But who can really tell. It's all guesswork and speculation when a person is this tiny and new. Tayte abandons the subject of her bronzerider buzzkills on favor of Tela's not-quite-so one. "A good feeling even though he'll be leaving soon?" She opts not to get into the why, or more specifically the who related to the why. Maybe it's just Tayte's turn to be a buzzkill, reminding the greenrider of the rumored imminence of Isyath's clutching.

First two-and-a-half don't count? Telavi does like guesswork and speculation, even on the topic of noses once in a while-- surely Tahvra is special enough for such things-- which... doesn't stop Tela from derailing. "Well, aside from that," she says with a wrinkle of her very own nose and a look at her chum. She could bring up that 'who' all too easily, yes she could, but for now she elects to table it. "There'll just be... visiting. Back and forth; it's not like the weyrlings are so little, they're practically in wings now. And it's not as though we're living in each other's pockets anyway. It'll be fun, having an excuse to peek," snoop, "around another Weyr."

"Don't give me that look," Tayte complains, "I've been through trauma'," Perfectly 'natural' and expected trauma, but trauma, "And neither of the men who promised to see me through it showed up. I'm excused from receiving all looks, even if I said something to deserve it until next seven at least." She lets slip a blustery sigh; why doesn't Tela already know this? Isn't it obvious. "Visits are good. I suspect distance is easier when you have a dragon." Briefly her look is thoughtful, but it passes. "Good thing you don't mind visiting. Peeking around Fort should prove interesting. I hear they're not particularly foreigner-friendly after everything that's happened."

She complains, Telavi-- well-- giggles. Oh, she makes some ineffectual attempt at trying not to, but it's still audible even behind her hand. Until, "They promised? And they were gone in your hour... and hours... of need?!" Bad, bad men! Telavi has a stern look to show what she thinks of that, but it's in support of Tayte, really it is; though the sternness diffuses at Tayte's further words, to the point that she glances away, the underlying sympathy does not. "Much. Though... even going up and down from the weyr felt like distance to me." It's lightly said, the more so for sharing the implication that Tayte might have more fortitude than the girl Telavi had been; just as lightly-- when Tela looks back at her friend in the here and now, and with a smile, no less-- "Perhaps not. But then, I'm harmless, remember?"

"K'del was 'unreachable,'" One hand even slips away from her hold on the newborn to make the appropriate air quotes. "I'm not even sure how that happens when you have a dragon and are the Weyrleader." Each syllable of that title is over-enunciated for emphasis. "And Havi was off drunk somewhere after we got in a dumb fight that day," The blonde's features uglify in frustration. That look is swept away by a smile that might be for the observation about distance, but any response is lost in the disbelieving snort, "That is warning enough that I ought to have you ushered out of here. Clearly, you're looking for trouble, O Harmless One." This is all delivered with humor but, "Though really, I should try to sleep soon. She only sleeps for so long before I must wake with her." There's a warmer, decidedly genuine smile for Tela then, "I am glad you stopped by. Look in again?" She invites her chum.

That gets a stare, and Telavi doesn't even pretend to defend the men, commiseration for Tayte in that roll of her eyes whether her friend's uglified or no. For the trouble, she as readily if more teasingly agrees, "That must be it," altogether oblivious that somewhere, Fate is listening. "In fact... oh! Yes. Sleep away, and of course I will." She has an affectionate smile for Tah-and-her-Tahvra as she turns to oblige, slipping back into her wintry furs until her hand touches an unexpected lump and-- "I almost forgot! Here." What starts out looking like barely a palmful unfolds into so much more, even as Tela turns back to put it where Tayte can reach it when she likes: a fine, silky, strong... sarong? "It would have been a bed jacket, but a couple of the actual mother-type-people said you could use this more, for drapery or carrying or whatever," this with a lift of her shoulder and another smile. The cloth's an ocean blue, slightly mottled in a way that might make make spit-up and such less obvious, but in a pattern that varies on closer examination from ice crystals on one side to a seascape-- complete with the prettier sorts of fish-- on the other. But Tela doesn't seem to expect that Tayte look at it all now; she gives the pair a cheerful wave and starts once again for the door.

Of course there are soft exclamations and gratitude given to the greenrider, but nothing notable and soon after the equally mundane farewells are said, there's naught but the sound of breathing and the occasional exhausted snore.