Logs:Births and Deaths
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| RL Date: 23 November, 2013 |
| Who: K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Births, deaths and anniversaries fill K'del's head, during the first half of turn thirty-three. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr / Fort Weyr / Healer Hall |
| When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Ali/Mentions, Aughan/Mentions, Devaki/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Edyis/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Ienavi/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Iska/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Rone/Mentions, Y'rel/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
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| He'd spent most of month two worrying: it was three turns since Iolene's death, four turns since her miscarriage, and all he could think about was what if Ali gives birth on the anniversary? and it was awful. He'd been so relieved when the day had passed without incident - when, thankfully, Iesaryth and Vhaeryth's eggs had avoided that day for hatching, too. Anniversaries were difficult enough, for all that he tried not to think about them (too much). And then... then there was Iska. His daughter. The first daughter he'd been able to hold in his arms moments after birth. It had been so long since the boys were newborns that he'd half forgotten what it was like. But she was perfect. "I'll never let anything bad happen to you," he promised. "Daddy loves you. So much. So, so much." His Iska (Cadejoth grumbled that Isyath got her name in there, and where was his, until K'del pointed out that it might not be spelled Isca, but it sure was pronounced that way, so it might as well be for him, too. After that, the bronze was as smug as anything). His little girl. She was perfect, and it hurt so much, sometimes, having to go back to High Reaches, and miss out on moments with her - with both of them. Sometimes, he wanted to curse Z'ian for that accident. But he loved his job. (He was glad Isyath hadn't risen, yet. He didn't want to keep Cadejoth from her flight, but he knew he needed to stay away, this time. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. But it was: it had to be.) Rone's death made him angry. He'd okayed the whole incursion, but they weren't supposed to kill the man, and he wasn't entirely sure if he trusted the story. It would've been so easy to kill him in the confusion, and he just knew there was something personal in it for Y'rel. But Y'rel swore it hadn't been him. And later, talking to the men who had been Rone's seconds, it seemed like they were corroborating that. It still made him angry: he'd wanted the man alive, so that they could make a point, deliver justice. Instead, he was a martyr, and it was just... he hated it. He hadn't wanted the man dead. Not in the incident, and not afterwards. There would've been no hangings. But it was too late for that, and now... now there was just the mess, working out what to do with all the other men. How could you tell who was a conscript and who a true believer? What a mess. He suspected H'kon was the right man for the job, though. He'd had a lot to think about, after his talk with Edyis. She was right, of course: they had to do something to help Nabol. Not doing something would end up biting them in the ass, and it was obvious they couldn't afford another winter without proper tithes. It bothered him, that it was necessary, but... even if Ienavi were confirmed today, her Hold was in shambles. Something had to be done. This woman and her child were Nabol's future; that much seemed inevitable, at this point. As soon as the Conclave met, they'd confirm her, and then she'd be stuck with the unenviable task of putting the pieces back together. He hoped she was strong enough. Being Lady Nabol was a far sight from being Lady Warder. He laid it all out for her, visiting her home-in-exile at Healer Hall. The Weyr couldn't supply the resources that were required: they didn't have marks to pay for it, and he was uncomfortable sending the Weyr into debt, if it could be avoided. And they were, after all, her people, people who would starve unless something was done. Did she have any resources? Could she pull strings? (He didn't remind her of the public relations game inherent in this; he didn't need to.) The only strings he could think of for the Weyr were long shots: they could ask Lujayn at Honshu, perhaps, or they could beg Lord Aughan, Lady Edeline, Lord Devaki. None of them were comforting thoughts. She promised to do what she could: she would find a way, she swore it. She and Lord Eustan would not let their people starve. It was month five, despite the continued snow flurries. The planting needed to happen; there wasn't much time. But they would make this work. And Nabol would have no choice but to be grateful - a friend to the Weyr. In their debt. Perhaps, out of all of this, they would eventually get some good. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Births and Deaths"Edyis (Edyis (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 24 Nov 2013 05:36:47 GMT.
"His Iska (Cadejoth grumbled that Isyath got her name in there, and where was his, until K'del pointed out that it might not be spelled Isca, but it sure was pronounced that way, so it might as well be for him, too. After that, the bronze was as smug as anything). His little girl."
Cadejoth
Varied (Varied (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 24 Nov 2013 20:30:00 GMT.
Two, three, four... five. XD
Good luck, K'del?
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