Logs:Not Alone In This
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| RL Date: 5 September, 2013 |
| Who: Tayte, H'vier |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: In the morning, H'vier arrives and is given the news of Tayte's miscarriage. Ensuing grief and angst. |
| Where: Southern Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 9, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Fayla/Mentions, Jeyli/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: About the miscarriage. As such, expect adult themes, tremendous angst, and lots and lots of crying. First pose contributed by Telavi as Jeyli's Zeizath. Many thanks to K'del, H'vier, and Telavi as Jeyli for being up for something this dark/angsty. |
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| A distant dragon's thoughts unfold, Zeizath's calling card an image: Tayte's pale, drawn face, eerily lit by mid-morning light on one side and glows' gold on the other. Once he has Reisoth's attention, his instructions are brief: that one wants his rider to come. She'll be with the healers. Over and out. When H'vier arrives, there's a solemn-faced healer waiting, presumably for him, because his brows raise upon catching sight of the incoming rider, "If you'll follow me." His demeanor is calm as he conducts H'vier through the open-air healing pavilion to one of the long stone buildings, and through a curtained doorway into a small room where Tayte is settled on a cot, propped into a mostly seated position by pillows. Her eyes are on the window, they're puffy and reddened. It's not Tayte at her most attractive. Her fingers clench the sheets into her fists and then release, time and time again. Reisoth gives some answer in the affirmative once the message has been relayed to his rider. It's not long before the pair arrive and H'vier is still in his flight leathers. He's probably concerned but, at least to the healer, he's stony-faced as he moves to follow. "What's going on?" he asks once he comes to the room, though he's probably asking the healer more than Tayte considering his lowered voice in what might be an effort not to disturb the woman just yet. Only H'vier's the one Tayte's been waiting for, so the sound of footsteps has her head turning slowly. She'd resolved to be strong, but just looking at the big bronzerider makes her lower lip start to tremble. She looks away, down to her lap where her fists are clenched tight. The healer is looking at her too. She takes a shuddery breath and then makes eye contact with the healer, giving a slight nod of her head. It's a silent permission. The man angles toward the rider and clears his throat softly. "I'm sorry, sir. She miscarried last night." There's the briefest pause, "She should be alright with rest. We're watching for signs of infection." Then he's at something of a loss, so simply says, "I'll-- leave you with her, sir." And slips out the curtain. Tayte's silently started to cry, the tears slipping down her cheeks, though the shakes of her shoulders are tiny. At the summons and then being led through toward Tayte's room by a healer, H'vier has probably steeled himself for something. But nothing can really prepare a person for something like that, can it? The bronzerider stares at the healer for a long few moments, looking maybe a little like he's thinking about hitting the guy. Or something. But he refrains long enough for the healer to get out of his line of sight and then his gaze shifts over toward where Tayte is situated, still trying to process this news with a stunned look on his face. After a few moments of silence, Tayte manages to pull herself together enough to speak, though her voice is hoarse, so it's a sure bet that there's been much more crying before this. "Havi," She manages, squeezing those blankets hard between her fingers. "I am so sorry." That she feels responsible is obvious as she turns her face toward him, expression one of grief and guilt mingled together. "I'm sorry. Our baby..." And then she can't and she just chokes into a sob, squeezing her eyes shut tight, her whole body rigid with stress. His first response is to shake his head when she starts speaking. He doesn't need to hear anything. In fact, H'vier's gaze shifts away when she tries to apologize and he lifts a hand to his face when she can't finish anyway, wiping at his eyes that have started to tear up despite any manly reason he might have hoped they wouldn't. "Don't," is what he finally says, crossing the room over to her bed and kneeling down beside it, reaching out to take her hand gently with his own, pulling it up to his face if she lets him to press his lips to the back of it. His head stays down, avoiding looking up at her for now. Tayte is torn between whether this reaction is better or worse. But being torn is helpful now, because it helps her stay grounded instead of lose it. She's broken, that much is obvious from how she looks, from the evidence of all the tears that have come before. But he's not screaming at her, or leaving. He's there. She's let him take her hand and kiss it, and her fingers seek to wrap around some part of his own, while the other hand releases the fabric of the sheet and almost tentatively touches his head, fingers slipping into his hair. It's an attempt at some mutual comfort. It's probably not going to help a whole lot when the reason H'vier isn't looking at her becomes a little bit more obvious. Or a lot more obvious. He keeps her hand close at first but it's a quiet sob that just barely precedes him reaching out for the rest of her, to wrap his arms around her midsection and pull her gently toward him if necessary to rest his head on her leg and just... hold her. It's probably something he'll regret later, showing so much emotion, but right now, it's not really at the front of his mind. Maybe it helps that with his surrender to emotion, Tayte joins him. They are in this grief together. She can, and does, become just as vulnerable and open as he. She curls over him, her hair curtaining them both from the intrusion of the world. She holds him, as he holds her. They hold each other. At least in this there is something natural, even if nothing else about the last twenty four hours has felt that way to Tayte. It might be in part because Tayte starts crying, but H'vier does his best to get a hold of himself after a minute or so. He lifts his head, then lifts a hand up toward the woman's face to cup her cheek comfortingly as he rises up to fit himself in beside, but facing, her. He doesn't ask her to stop, though, he's just there to hold her if she needs it, and he murmurs, "It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay." Later he might be able to think about other things like why he wasn't summoned right away if he ever figures it's even a thing to think about. Right now it's just the two of them. "It's okay, baby. It's not your fault." It's easier for him to say these things with her here with him, of course, easier to be stronger when there's a reason for it. Tayte uncurls enough that when H'vier moves there's no awkward colliding of body parts. Her face leans into his big hand, the tears become silent but still trickling down her cheeks. As he adjusts onto the bed though, there's more adjusting to be done because suddenly she's shifting, too, trying to slip into his lap, to draw his arms around her, to bury her face against his chest. The way the grief wracks her shoulders can be felt through the contact of her frame to his. It's barely audible, but somehow can't be missed, "I wanted our baby, H'vier. I wanted him." She probably has no idea if the baby was a him or her beyond some inexplicable intuition, but the words come with such fierceness that it's almost at odds with how very vulnerable she is here in his arms. She doesn't need to say this time that the baby she wanted is gone. There's no protest from H'vier when Tayte wants more than just his arms and he helps as much as he can to draw her into his lap and hold her close to him. There might still be an occasional tear but there's nothing so obvious as sobbing from the bronzerider anymore. When she speaks, H'vier's arms tighten around her somewhat and he tilts his head to kiss whatever part of her is the easiest to reach. "Me, too," is all he can say right away, the tone of his words in the more vulnerable spectrum. "Maybe... maybe we can try again. Some day. If the healer says it's okay." This is something not in the foreseeable future to him, judging by the way he says it. It's hard to think about feeling for a new baby when you wanted the one you've lost so much, after all. Despite all the unexpected elements of their interactions over the past months, hearing him say that-- that he wanted the baby too has Tayte's body relaxing just a hair, into him, leaning more of her weight into his chest. "Maybe." She can manage, but she can't think about that either right now. Her thoughts are too much on this baby. This unexpected baby that she had not wanted. Her initial feelings toward is probably is what has her cringing again, but she can't articulate it. She stays in silence, a long time, just there in his arms. Eventually, though, there are practical needs. "I need something to drink." She murmurs, slowly starting to disentangle herself from his arms. There's a cup just out of reach on a small table on the far side of the cot. H'vier doesn't say anything during that silence. It's enough to just hold her. To feel like he can still somehow keep her safe from all the things that hurt even if he knows he can't. Not from these things. When Tayte breaks the silence and starts to withdraw, H'vier's gaze is drawn toward the cup and he rises to fetch it for her. "Do you want something fresher? Or something to eat?" Maybe booze? That's probably something he thinks but manages not to actually say. He's sure to indulge in more than he ought to of that later. When he rises and rounds the cot to grab up the cup, Tayte leans the other way, carefully. She plucks up a bottle that was tucked between chair and bed, and holds it up in answer to his question about something fresher. It's obviously booze. "Healers wanted to give me fellis today. I didn't sleep." As might be expected. "But I wanted to be coherent." For this. For him. She reaches for the cup and offers him the bottle. "I'm not really hungry." She admits quietly, "I feel empty. And--" She shrugs her shoulders slightly, "Just not hungry." Though she probably should eat. He's not really one to judge for these sorts of things but a small frown pulls at his lips anyway. H'vier does take the bottle, sniffing it before pouring some into the cup for her and handing it over. And then he'll just take a small drink from the bottle himself. "Maybe you should let the healer give you some fellis now, hmm? I'm sure you could use the rest. And maybe you'll be able to eat something when you wake up." He stands there beside her cot with the bottle still in hand, watching her with that frown still vaguely in place as he asks, "When do you think you'll be coming home?" It's the good stuff, obviously from Tayte's personal stash. Far too good to be Infirmary booze. "Maybe. I-- needed to see you first." She murmurs softly, her eyes falling to the cup in her hands, a touch of a blush coloring her cheeks. It's the first healthy look she's had about the coloration of her skin since he's arrived. She takes a deep drink from the cup and then looks up at him, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm not sure when I should. I don't want to face everyone yet. Have to explain to some of them. I'm not ready for that." She pauses a moment, drawing in breath before asking quietly, "Will you come back?" She might like to ask 'will he stay', but he has responsibilities back at the Weyr; she knows that. "Of course," is his response about coming back. "I'll speak with Fayla and tell her I need a few days so I can come and stay with you. Here. I'm sure she'll understand." One perk of having a female wingleader, maybe? And if not, he'll probably just come anyway. H'vier takes another small drink from the bottle before setting it down beside the cot and leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Tayte's forehead. Before he withdraws, he murmurs, "I'll send the healer in to take care of you. I should be back before you wake up. Will you be okay?" Tayte's eyes close as he presses the kiss to her forehead and her hand briefly seeks his, for just a moment, squeezing before she lets it go. She considers his question, perhaps more than she should for a question with a yes or no answer. Her eyes are serious and sad when they find his, "Not being okay isn't an option. So I'll have to be. Somehow." A pause. "Maybe we can figure it out together." Since he'll be back. "Don't-- do anything stupid that won't bring you back to me, okay?" She adds quietly, and even though it's touched with a little of her 'getting bossy' tone that she uses when she's telling him not to hit on someone or that yes, she is independent, darn it all, it's really a request, full of concern for him. "I want you to be okay too." "Nothing will keep me from coming back to you." It's a confident assurance without promising he won't do anything stupid as explicitly as she might like him to. But H'vier seems calm enough right now, so maybe he'll be okay once he's gone, too. "We'll be okay. Just get some rest. And eat something if you wake up before I get back. I shouldn't be that long." The bronzerider straightens to his full height and he looks at Tayte in the way so many people do before they say something sentimental like 'I love you' or something. But he doesn't say that. He only nods his head with a strained smile before turning toward the door to track down a healer to send back to her room. |
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