Logs:Spiteful and Sappy
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| RL Date: 14 February, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After missing the birth, father comes to meet daughter and deal with mother. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 1, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tahvra/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated! |
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| 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.
Messages were sent again first to Reisoth and then to Cadejoth to indicate the birth of the babe and the wellness of the mother, but no bronzeriders miraculously appeared, so exhausted sleep found them both soon enough. Morning's light finds both mother and babe in an infirmary cot. Tayte is propped up by pillows, looking tired, but pleased as the little girl nurses, snuggled safe in her mother's arms. H'vier has done a lot of shitty things in his life. A lot of them were on purpose. A lot of them weren't. When he regained consciousness, it was Reisoth that he was pissed off at. It was easier to be mad at the bronze for not trying hard enough to wake him than at himself, after all. But the annoying thing about Reisoth is that he's perfectly capable of setting his rider straight. So H'vier had to be pissed off at himself instead. As soon as he arrives, which is as soon as he and Reisoth finish arguing about whose fault it was that he missed the birth of his first definitely-his daughter, he looks probably apologetic and pathetic for at least a few moments. And then the bronzerider's expression is something entirely different, something he's probably not aware of. He looks proud and ridiculously, hopelessly in love at the sight of his girls, new and old. Er, not old. Experienced! Ocean gaze rises from the blonde head of the babe when H'vier's arrival so subtly disturbs the curtain around Tayte's alcove. Brows dip and the first look she gives him is displeased, so her eyes are diverted back to the baby. Babies are good distractions. "Just like a man to be here for the fun parts, but miss out on all the hard stuff in between." Not that he hasn't had to deal with his fair share of Pregnant Mess Tayte moments in the past months, but he wasn't here last night, so none of those count anymore. "I suppose every time her diaper needs changing, you'll be mysteriously unavailable too?" This must've been the message that was relayed to her. Maybe, if Reisoth deigned to give details, they were lost between receiver and mother. He's expecting some measure of displeased. Possibly more than that. But he's less experienced with not screaming around babies so he might be pleasantly surprised that Tayte isn't actually yelling at him. "If I'd known you were going to have her, I would have been here." See, clearly not his fault. The bronzerider comes in properly now that he hasn't spontaneously burst into flames from an angry not-pregnant-anymore woman, moving toward the edge of Tayte's bed to look down at that blonde head. A hand lifts as though to touch the baby but it pauses before actually reaching her, tentative. At the intrusion of his hand into Tayte's periphery, her eyes flick up to him and the look is withering, even if she manages to school it after a moment and not bare her teeth at him. She doesn't even hiss. She does, however, shift her arms slightly, not that it does much. The babe is, of course, blithely unaware as she continues her meal. "So, that's a yes to changing diapers." The woman manages after a moment. It takes time to be said because tone is important, and she has to get to where she can keep it calm and hushed. "Yes. Of course," says H'vier, maybe a little too quickly. And even though Tayte looks like she might bite his face off if he gets too close to her teeth, the bronzerider leans down to press his lips against her temple. "I love you. She's beautiful. You're beautiful. I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I mean it. I really wanted to be. I'll make it up to you." Is that good? Is he not in trouble now? He tries to sit down carefully on the edge of the bed. "Was everything... good? Are you okay?" To Tayte's credit she doesn't flinch away from him or try to chew his face off when he kisses her. Employing the "L" word probably helps, if only minutely. "Good?" She's distracted by this. It doesn't mean he's off the hook, but the way she looks at him like he's grown an extra head for daring to apply the word 'good' to the ordeal of labor. But at least she doesn't try to explain her disbelief. Instead, bruskly, "I'm fine. The baby's fine. We did just fine." Without him. Maybe it's the edge in the blonde's voice that disturbs the babe enough to open her eyes. Blue, for now. A pretty, light blue. Lighter than Tayte's, so likely to change in time. "I'd introduce you, only her father wasn't here so she doesn't have a name yet." Each emphasis is an addition blame laid at his feet. Maybe their definitions of good are different. She's alive. The baby's alive. It was good! "I said I was sorry, Tayte. What else am I supposed to say?" He's definitely picking up on her unhappiness. He's not completely oblivious to these things. When the baby opens her eyes, H'vier is quick to focus in on her and he gets this ridiculous smile on his face even despite the tone in Tayte's voice. He does flicker a glance at the woman, trying to look apologetic. But it's hard when he he can't stop gawking at their daughter. "Well, we can name her now." "I don't know, what else can you say?" Just because he's said he's sorry doesn't mean she has to forgive him. Tayte's annoyance does make it into her voice for that. Maybe it sours the milk because the baby separates from her mother and there's just a little involuntary squirming. Tayte sighs and looks up at H'vier in a very much 'now see what you've done?' way. She shifts the baby to lean up against her shoulder, one hand moving to rub and pat the infant's back. "I might just name her Tayte the Second. You weren't here." And none of the rest of it counts. Still. "What would help make it up to you? I promise I'll make it up to you, baby." H'vier even sounds sincere about that. He watches the moving of the baby, possibly glances at Tayte's breast, but mostly he's looking at the baby. "I wanted to be here. Shards, Tayte. It's not like I missed it on purpose. I don't want to fight, okay? Can we just never fight again?" Ever? That's how he got in this mess, after all. "How would you make it up to me?" Tayte poses the question, but she moves on not expecting an answer, just pointing out how ridiculous that sounds. Maybe somewhere there exist flowers or candy nice enough to say 'Sorry I missed the birth of our child', but she doubts it (and would be certain of it if she knew why he hadn't been in attendance, exactly). "Fine. We won't fight. Now." The forever thing is clearly off the table. "What do you want to name her?" Just at that moment there's a little burp from the baby. "And do you want to hold her?" The offer isn't really peaceable, but at least she does offer. Yeah, H'vier does not have an answer to that, so he doesn't even try to make one up. "Please," he answers the holding thing before the name thing since it's a lot easier to know the answer to it. But he doesn't reach out for her or anything, he just kind of looks at Tayte awkwardly like he's not sure what he's supposed to do. "I think it should start like yours." This might be some weird attempt to make her happier. "Then it can have a silent H, Tah." Tayte contributes, pursing her lips as she shifts very slightly, carefully leaning forward and moving the baby so she can start to bridge the distance between them with the baby, only she doesn't hand the child over immediately, "Have you ever held a baby before?" is asked instead as the little girl's arm shifts against her chest. "Tahvi," says H'vier with a dumb grin, just like his nickname except, you know, with a T. Her question gives him pause, though, and his brows furrow. "I... no. I've never held a baby before." This seems to bother him. He's a thirt-- young, virile man. It's weird now that he's realized this little fact. But he's already sitting, so that's a good start! "No," Tayte vetoes. "It makes my 'Ta' sound like something caught in your throat before 'Havi'." At the answer to the question Tayte pulls the baby back against her. It's not, as might initially be thought, because she's taking back the whole offer, but rather is demonstrative. "Cradle your arms like this, and you must support her head. She can't do it on her own yet. See what my right hand is doing?" She gently wiggles fingers to draw attention to how she's holding the baby. "And try not to drop her. Got it?" "Yeah, yeah," is probably not the most comforting response to her demonstrations. But H'vier doesn't seem all that put out that his suggestion is vetoed so quickly. He has baby-holding to think about. "I'm not gonna drop her. I'm sitting down, woman. There's no where to drop her. I got it. Trust me." Because he's proven he's soooo trustworthy lately! Her brow is arching again, this time dubious. No, 'yeah, yeah' is not comforting. She draws the baby just a touch nearer to herself. "You'd be surprised." She states. Maybe Tayte expects H'vier to lose his grip and the babe will end up rolling off his arms and down onto the floor. The 'trust me' warrants moments of contemplation before she shifts her whole body forward and in one swift motion (like pulling off a bandage), places the little girl in his arms, and once she's sure he has her, she leans back, but not in relaxation. She's on edge, watching. Once H'vier is holding the baby girl, he becomes pretty oblivious to Tayte's edginess. He also looks embarassingly happy. At least it would be embarassing if there were someone around he wasn't already used to looking like an idiot with. He doesn't really try to move her from where Tayte put her, though he only uses the one arm so he can use his other hand to touch her tiny little hand with one of his comparatively huge fingers. "She's so perfect," he croons in a weird voice at her. "Tayvrie," he suggests. The look on H'vier's face softens Tayte just a little. She even starts to relax her shoulders and inches a little closer to the two, moving one of her hands to touch the little girl's blanket-bundled foot, as though being out of contact with the babe were just unbearable. Her freckled nose-- and oh, look, those were inherited from mother to daughter, a smattering across her cheeks and tiny nose -- wrinkles. "No. You left out the silent 'H.'" Apparently, she wasn't kdding about that. Then, "Tahvra?" "How can you even tell it's gone if it's silent," says H'vier but his voice is pitched high and happy because he's directing it at the baby instead of her mother. But her suggestion actually make the bronzerider look over at Tayte, still grinning a little dumbly. He can't help that. "Tahvra. I like that." He turns his attention back to the baby, "What do you think of that, huh? Should we call you Tahvra?" The baby... is a baby. So there's not much help there. But at least she's not crying. "I'd take silence as consent." Tayte fills in. "Tahvra it is." She considers H'vier and his dumb grin for a long moment. "If you want to call her Tavi, for short, I suppose I can live with it." H'vier shifts like he's going to get comfortable here and he doesn't look like he has any intention of handing the baby back over right away, though he probably won't complain if she tries to take her back. So long as he's not kicked out completely. He does move slowly at least so he doesn't give Tayte an aneurysm worrying over him dropping her. And once he's settled, he cranes his head toward Tayte, clearly seeking a kiss. He even says, "I love you, baby." How can she resist! It must take an amazing feat of will, but somehow, she manages. "You're not off the hook." Tayte answers, which isn't really the usual response for 'I love you.' But. Tayte didn't get this moment with her first daughter, and so she wants it now. Just before H'vier would give up the attempt, she leans forward and meets his lips, although briefly. She's not in a hurry to take the baby back and given that the baby's just fed, the little girl is soon asleep. It takes time before Tayte gets comfortable enough to lean back on her pillows, and try as she might... she's soon asleep too. But then, both girls have had a very long night. It's probably not fear of waking Tahvra back up that keeps the bronzerider holding onto the baby once both she and her mother are asleep. H'vier just doesn't want to put her down. And he definitely doesn't want to disturb Tayte. So he'll just sit there until his butt and possibly his arm go numb, happier than he can remember being in a very long time. |
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