Difference between revisions of "Logs:Lies"

Madilla sat on the floor beside the bunkbeds her children slept in, watching the way their chests rose and fell with each deep breath. Dilan slept in his side, curled up into a little ball, his little face turned towards her. Even in the dim light of the room, she could see his features clearly; they weren't her features, not even really a little bit.

It had been three sevens, now, since Bri-- since Aishani had made her announcement. She had so many thoughts about it, she found it difficult to really keep up with them all. She'd not known what to think about the raids, when they'd happened, and she remembered all too well the sick awfulness that followed the execution. The lying, though: that bothered her most. She lied to me, she found herself thinking. To all of us. And for what? Was it necessary? Was it worth it?

And yet, sitting here, watching her sleeping son, she felt a guilt of her own. She was lying, too. She'd been lying for the better part of five turns, now, if only by omission.

After the hatching, Lilabet had been unusually verbose, rambling on about the hatchlings, the candidates, all the new weyrlings. And the blonde man, the one who used to play with her. He'd seemed so familiar, and it had taken her a while, and then she'd remembered. "He waved at me, Mama. He looked at us all."

All.

She'd sent them off to their days, to eat breakfast with the other children and get on with things; that's what seemed best. At the feast, she'd caught sight of Devaki across the other side of the room just once, and she'd kept her gaze away. She'd hid.

A lie.

She hadn't thought of it in those terms at the time, though. It had just been the natural thing to do: stay away from him. It was only a moment, and then she'd been gone anyway, gone with H'kon long before any announcements were made, any revelations. Hers... or anyone else's.

Now, however, it wore at her. What right did she have to feel uncomfortable with Aishani's secrets, her deceptions, when she had secrets and deceptions of her own? Her intentions were good, she knew that: she wanted to protect her son. But was that a good enough reason to lie?

She hated lies. She abhorred dishonesty. She remembered how sick she'd felt, keeping Satiet's secret, all those turns before. She remembered, too, how freeing it had felt (fever-drunk, admittedly) to even hint about the truth, Dilan's truth, to Leova.

Dee-lightful.

They'd not talked about it since. What happens in quarantine stays in quarantine, right?

But she wondered.

She should have told him while he was at the Weyr, but she'd been afraid. Now...

Perhaps she should go and tell him. Lay it out. He'd be unlikely to catch a glimpse of her son (her son) at the Hold. He'd still be safe. They could... perhaps they could agree on something. To keep him safe.

Lies hurt people, she reminded herself.

It was the one thing she was sure about, in all of this business.

Maybe it was time.