Difference between revisions of "Logs:Blood and Family"

It was only the day after the announcement of Rynien's death that green Caerayith's paws settled on the ground of High Reaches Hold, morning sun reflecting off her wings. She was almost instantly antsy, the second they landed; the dragon could tell that something has upset her I'han, and that his friend Hypatia wasn't faring much better. What, she couldn't possibly have told anyone -- it was beyond her reach why they were so hurt by something that didn't really seem to have any hold on them at all.

« Did you even *like* him? » she demanded of her rider, but I'han just shrugged it off, told her it wasn't quite like that -- it didn't work that way. She would never understand, but within moments, she let it go.

Just as I'han and Hypatia had to let go of each other. A brief hand squeeze, and they both left Caerayith behind, off to different tasks -- to different people to speak to. Why I'han was there Hypatia didn't even quite follow, since his family wasn't the sort to be so closely tied to the Lord Holder that reactions to his death necessitated an actual visit. But he'd been planning to go anyway, and was kind enough to invite her along, which saved her the trouble of nagging Sa'zl to take her instead. The bluerider had offered once to give her rides, but I'han was so often visiting the hold anyway it became rather a non-issue.

And this was a prompt visit. Something that needed to happen then, immediately. She was lucky she didn't have to be kept waiting for anyone or anything except herself to get moving, and get moving she did, making her way through familiar land and familiar halls until she found herself walking down the stairs into the office her mother kept.

"Mum," she said.

Hadass was sitting at her desk, of course; there was a pencil in her hand, she was staring at her work, but the pencil wasn't moving. She barely registered Hypatia's voice at first -- it took her a moment, and then she lifted her head. A sad smile formed on her face; moments later, assistant headwoman had healer apprentice wrapped firmly in her embrace.

"Thank you, darling," she whispered into Hypatia's hair, letting her daughter bury her head against her neck. "Thank you for being here."

So they just held each other like that a few minutes -- just being together, letting the moment just sit as it was. It was hard for Hypatia to understand why being here was so important to her; she didn't even like Rynien, not really. But Shaie was her mother's friend. Her father painted the Lord Holder's portrait. She was told that when they were young boys, Haley and Braeden had gotten on. Her family wasn't Blooded, but they were intricately linked with the Blood of High Reaches.

And none of her family knew she was friends with islanders. Exiles. None of her family knew how much she liked spending time with Iolene, who always cheered her up; none of them knew how she enjoyed talking puzzles with Emme and her dragon. Nobody knew how she used to flirt back and forth with Kh'ry, back when they saw each other more. She kept that secret. She knew it'd break them. She was meant to feel how they did -- like those people were out of sight and out of mind, all the time.

Like the ones who were Blooded, the way they weren't, didn't matter to anything.

Hypatia couldn't find an opinion on that anywhere in her heart. Couldn't reconcile the people she had met who claimed to have Blood with what her parents said about them.

Keeping that secret, though, didn't matter now.

Now she had to be there for the ones who were suffering. For her mother, who had to be strong for Shaie, and could only fall apart in private. For her father and brother, who both had a tendency to distance themselves emotionally. She didn't matter as much. She had left. They didn't see her as a deserter, though; she was lucky that her family wasn't angry with her. That her appearance was appreciated. Valued.

Hadass clung to her so hard her ribs almost broke.

"Of course I'm here," Hypatia whispered back, as the hug separated and the two of them simply stood in the middle of the office, her thinking about maybe sitting on her mother's shared desk. "Where else would I be? I don't know how long I can stay, but I'll be here for the memorial --"

"We don't know yet exactly when that is." The voice from behind her was Ezekiel's; Hypatia spun around to face him, smiling. Probably smiling happier than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she was glad to see him. Rapidly, she forced the happy look away.

"Zeke. How's Issedi?" While she didn't know Rynien's daughter well, Ezekiel did; he'd been sweet on her as a kid, and now as far as she knew, they were friends. So when his face fell a little, guilt instantly rose again.

He scratched his chin a second, and then said, "We -- haven't spoken. I haven't seen her yet. I don't know when I will."

"Okay. And I mean, whenever it is. Il and I will be here for it. Caerayith doesn't mind hanging out on the lawn, and I can get out of work just as easy as he can get out of wing duties --"

The next words out of Hypatia's mother shocked her.

They likely shocked Ezekiel just as much.

"You don't have to throw your life aside for us," she said.

And, forcing herself not to stare, Hypatia replied, "It's just a few days."

Hadass looked relieved. Almost happy.

Ezekiel's tight shoulders appeared to relax.

There was a lot more to healing people than understanding a disease, she had come to learn. Right then, her family needed healing; her Hold needed healing. And as much of that as she could bring to them, she would.