Logs:No Balm for the Wicked
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| RL Date: 20 September, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After fleeing from Telavi in his weyr, an injured and distraught K'zin seeks out his healer. (Bet now Madilla's glad she took on that role turns ago - ha!) |
| Where: Healer Workroom, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 11, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Alida/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Zianarius/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Aaaaangst. Back-dated, played via gdocs. |
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| He tried the infirmary first. He was more than a handful for the apprentice on duty, looking fairly gruesome with his left eye swollen shut with its fresh blackening, and dried blood dribbled down his chin from the split lower lip. Add to that the fact that he's shoeless, shirtless, and peppered with bruises of other varieties and varying severities, and obviously distraught, all he got from the apprentice was a squeaked answer that she wasn't on duty when he demanded to know where Madilla was. It was only to the bronzerider's back that the apprentice remembered to try to get him to stay and be seen by the Journeyman on duty. The next step was an urgent knocking at Madilla's door. If he'd been drunk, maybe it would've been pounding and shouting, but of all the things that are wrong with K'zin tonight, booze isn't one of them. Still, the knocking doesn't come without words. They're not particularly loud, but just as insistent as the fist. "Mads, it's K'zin. I'm sorry. I really need your help. Mads?" And repeat. It takes a couple of repetitions before there's the sound of movement behind the door: bare feet on stone floor and rag rugs, padding softly. Madilla's been asleep, that much is certainly true: she has that look about her of interrupted dreams, her hair in its long braid mussed, and her shawl draped inelegantly about the long flannel nightgown she wears. She opens the door in a hurry, already opening her mouth to say something... but whatever it was, it gets entirely forgotten as sleep-encrusted eyes take in the sight of the bronzerider. "K'zin? What the-- what happened?" Her words are in a loud whisper, her body inserted into the gap of the door to prevent sound from travelling towards the two (or perhaps three) people asleep inside. Whatever K'zin had planned to say... well, it's all just gone from his head as Madilla opens the door. His look is briefly blank, almost confused, like he's not sure why he came at all. Wouldn't it have been better to let the journeyman who didn't know him tend to him and have done? "I'm sorry, Mads, to wake you. I really-- I need a friend. And a healer." And she's an all in one package. He sounds apologetic and sincere as he addresses her, though his expression is still agitated and showing the persisting discomfort of the various events in his evening. "I didn't know where else to go." Okay, well, maybe the infirmary, but she wasn't there. Madilla exhales through her teeth, a whistling sound that she cuts short so that she can speak again. "No, of course," is her answer, quickly and in a carefully modulated whisper. "Of course you had to come here. But you can't come in, not while the children are sleeping... we'll go down to the workroom. I've supplies there. Let me put some shoes on." She doesn't really wait for a reply to that, just slides the door ajar and disappears again, though at least she's not gone for long - and when she comes back? She has heavy, soled slippers on her feet and she looks... well. Slightly more awake. K'zin's answer is a silent nod. He's not about to demand entrance here and now, and his goal isn't to screw up Madilla's night too. So he waits. That makes one of them with shoes, though the floor even with its bits of whatever that accumulate throughout the day doesn't seem to bother the bronzerider overly much on the trip down to the workroom. He doesn't attempt to speak, simply follows the healer, his hands pressed hard together, fingers whitening as they intertwine. His eyes follow those heavy, soled slippers and, really, there's a sense that K'zin is there, but also altogether not until they're somewhere behind a closed door.
The Healer workroom is a decent-sized cavern, if considerably longer than it is wide, dead-ending in three narrow glassed-in windows above a long, shared desk. It's primarily a working space, taken up by wide tables that are spacious enough to allow several healers to work on several different projects at the same time without running into each other. Supporting this, the remaining walls are lined with storage, storage and more storage, punctuated only by the hallway door opposite the windows, the stone basin and pump to one side, and the two hearths unevenly spaced along the longer walls. Ceiling-height cupboards line one of the walls, all the way from one end of the room to the other. Wide shelves fill the first, storing general equipment, while the others contain places for empty jars as well as finished products. The final cupboard contains several shelves worth of liquids in jars, above a set of dozens of little drawers that each contain herbs of all kinds. Below these is a locked cupboard for controlled substances.
"I don't think there's a cure for what hurts worst." K'zin grunts as looks for a seat at the nearest handy spot. "I tried to break up with a girl that isn't my girlfriend, for her own good, and she didn't like that." Which tells a very different story of his injuries until, "Oh, and I got in a brawl. I lost a tooth, I think. I was going to sort that out after I put the snow on my eye and got the bruise balm taken care of," He squints at the healer with his good eye, "Only she was at my place. And wanted to help," The nerve! It might be funny if it weren't for the way K'zin's lower lip is starting to quiver. He's on the edge, fighting the battle to not lose it now. There's something about Madilla's expression that makes it very clear she'd like nothing better than to wrap K'zin in a hug, right now - but for whatever reason, she restrains the urge. "I've never been a fan of 'for her own good'," she murmurs as, after a deep breath, she turns away to begin gathering up supplies. "It's enormously selfish, deciding you know what's best for someone else." At least she's more 'musing' than 'disapproving' as she says that. "Sit down. I'll get you all cleaned up, and then we'll have tea. It sounds to me like you need someone to talk to." "She doesn't know what I know," K'zin protests, and this seems to give him some degree of focus which staves off the lip wobble's threats for now. "She got a taste of it the night of Iesaryth's flight." His words come slowly as he finds the seat he sought, as instructed. "I-- he--" Clearly, there's an internal struggle of some kind. After a long moment of silence, he says with deliberate care, "My dragon is amoral." The last word is an effort to get out. "He thinks she makes me --" He frowns, trying to either sort out the right word or get it past the black censor line in his head, "-soft. Vulnerable." These are apparently undesirable qualities. Madilla has her back turned, but her snort is nonetheless awkward. She turns, then, affixing K'zin with a dubious - and disapproving - expression. "And so you're letting your dragon dictate your life? Will you dictate his, too - decide who he should chase?" The disapproval is audible in her tone, too, but at least it's not in her touch: she sets down the things she'd picked out, and now begins to use a damp cloth to clean up the blood on the bronzerider's face. "No, it's not--" K'zin starts, protesting all over again. He has to stop himself, to suck in a deep breath and slowly let it out before answering, "There are no lines for him. After the flight, he set her-- he set us up. I was--" The blush is impossible to miss given where she's working on him, "-with another of my regular lovers after the flight. He-" It's hard to relate this outloud. Where Rasavyth has no shame, K'zin has it for him. "He set it up for her to walk in on us. Knowing it would hurt her. Knowing it would hurt me. Hoping it would mess things up between us." He frowns, "It won't be the last time he does something like that. And it could be a lot worse. And I'm responsible. Because he's mine. And I'm his. And it's always been so fucked up. He lied to me every moment of every day from the time we bonded together, for months, Mads. And I had no idea. He was living in my head and I didn't even know him." Old wounds are felt keenly, a deep pain showing on his face, though he doesn't flinch, so it's probably not from the cloth she's using. "And so you're just going to... give in. Stop doing something that matters to you, because he doesn't like it." Madilla's quietly scornful now, and has to actually draw her hand away to stop herself from being rough in her ministrations. She's flinched, too, during his retelling, but now she's calmer, deep breaths restoring her equilibrium and allowing her to get back to work - with numbweed, with bruise balm, one thing after another. "Did you tell her this? All of it?" Her voice is quieter, now. "Because he'll keep hurting her? Because he's relentless and cruel and I don't want to watch her get hurt over and over and over again just because I have a thing for her?" Madilla's scorn brings out K'zin's helpless frustration. "Shells, yes, I'll give in if that's what it takes to keep her from getting hurt. I can't watch her cry. I can't watch her hurt like that because of me." The bronzerider can't help himself as he pulls away from the healer's hands, even though she never let herself get rough. He leans back, his hands going behind him to keep his abused abdomen from having to do all the work. "I can't tell her. Her dragon can't keep a sharding secret. And probably can't even understand that she shouldn't trust him." Not that that's an uncommon problem. As K'zin pulls himself away, Madilla has to stop herself from leaning after him - she has to stop in general, too, and just breathe. "Then I can't blame her for being upset with you," she says, coolly. "But it's not my business. I just think... think about it from her perspective, K'zin. Think about what it must feel like for her. You don't get to make decisions for other people; you don't get to decide how they feel, what's best for them. You can only decide what is best for you... but if you can't be honest with her, then perhaps she really is better off without you." And not because of Rasavyth. Her hands are shaking; she steps back, now, physically removing herself, her gaze turning to the side. This? This bothers her. K'zin's good eye is looking right at Madilla, following her. It takes in the shaking of her hands, the step back, all of it. He flinches. It's a moment too late to be a direct result of any particular thing that she's said. "I can't be honest with anyone." The bronzerider's baritone is hollow. "I thought..." He starts and then trails off, pushing himself to his feet with one hand. "Sorry I woke you, Mads." It's soft, it's wistful, it's apologetic. It's the precursor to him starting to step around her to move toward the door, half-tended to and looking truly a little dazed. "Sit. Back. Down." That's Madilla's 'mom' voice - or maybe her healer voice, or maybe just a combination of the two. There's force behind it, and in her gaze, too. "I don't approve of what you're doing; I think you're being an idiot, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you go back out there without being seen to. Sit." She doesn't specify an 'or else', but chances are good she has some kind of sway. He sits. A better man than he might be able to resist the force of Mom/Healer Madilla, but not he, and especially not now. K'zin's head ducks unhelpfully. That's probably not the aim of the gesture, but it's a result. He looks-- well, pathetic now. Between the injuries and the chastised look that really would suit a four turn old better than a nineteen turn old. He lapses into silence. No more protestations or explanations, just mopey silence. It takes several more seconds before Madilla's able to step forward again and resume her work. It's some seconds more before, finally, she says, very quietly, "I'm sorry. It's not my business to judge your choices. That was unfair of me." None of which implies that she approves, of course... but that's beside the point. "I have... trouble with lies. That's my bias, and it's nothing to do with you." "I came to you." K'zin responds just as softly, a small shrug of his shoulders that then hunch forward, also unhelpful to the work she's trying to perform, but less so than the tilt of his head. "You're going to hate me." The bronzerider's voice when he says this is tiny. No man who wants to be thought of as a man and not just a boy in big britches would try to act so young, but the touch of terror in the tone probably speaks where this reversion is coming from. Now, Madilla just looks regretful; she looks awful. "I don't hate you," she says, reaching to press one hand into each of K'zin's shoulders, pushing them back with a light touch. She'd meet his gaze, but that, clearly, is more difficult. "And I won't. Whatever you do. There is nothing you can do that will make me hate you, K'zin, do you hear me? I don't have to approve of what you do to care about you." "Not now," K'zin's tone is regretful, defeated, even. "But you will. One day. When all I am is lies and regrets." Such a cheery outlook. "I told him I'd rather be dragonless." This seems to hurt more than all the rest. "I shut him out. A long time." He manages to tilt his chin up even after she's nudged his shoulders back, though they aren't exactly cooperative, if unconsciously so. "Have you ever loved someone so much it hurts? So much that you'd forgive them anything and love them anyway?" "No I won't," says Madilla, quiet, but absolutely sure. She doesn't have an answer to his comment about Rasavyth, and instead focuses on removing her hands and getting back to work. It takes her quite a bit longer to answer that question, though there's something thoughtful in her expression; something that suggests she doesn't have an easy answer to it. "What counts as hurting? Does loving someone sometimes cause hurt? Yes, of course. I'm not sure that's what you're asking, though. I can forgive most things, K'zin. I don't hold grudges. There are lines that shouldn't be crossed, but... I don't know." He doesn't protest again. Perhaps he doesn't have the energy. His shoulders have gone from unconsciously attempting to hunch to simply sagging. "I'm not sure I can properly explain." K'zin mumbles, brow flexing as he considers. "I don't know if it's this way for every rider, but... loving him isn't optional. It's something so deep and so-- essential to me that I can't not. There are lines that shouldn't be crossed, but he does, can, and I love him anyway. I can't help it. And it hurts because I can't stop it. Because even when I hate him, I love him, too. I can't provide and deterrent strong enough because the only thing he would fear would be losing my love, and he knows that's impossible." The bronzerider sighs softly, "Impossible." He seems to feel the need to repeat. This is something Madilla can't ever properly understand, but she nods, nonetheless, sucking in a breath and holding it for several seconds before she exhales again. "I don't know what to say to that," she says, finally. "I'll never understand. I can only imagine. But... I take the point. Does that mean he will never allow you to love anyone else?" "Maybe." K'zin answers, though the word is said slowly and thoughtfully. His attention is split now, plumbing unseen depths of the connection shared with his lifemate. "If-- if someone made me better, or stronger, I think he'd leave the relationship be. He likes--" There's the blush again and it deepens. The bronzerider falls silent, and then starts on another thought, "He encourages certain relationships. He likes it when I make myself available to the goldriders. But he doesn't really understand love of the human variety. He understands loving me, but he doesn't love otherwise. I'm not even sure he genuinely likes otherwise. Although Iesaryth..." He frowns, shaking his head, "She was different for him. Somehow. But I'm not even sure I'd liken that to anything human." Madilla is interested is this explanation, even if it doesn't seem to please her. "I'm glad not all dragons are like him," she murmurs, and something about her expression could well be taken to suggest she's thinking of some dragons (or one dragon) in particular. "Perhaps you just need to be able to prove how useful the people in your life are. Show him. I don't know; I don't know much about these things. But it seems like it's worth a try." "Me too. That would be terrifying." Perhaps the swiftness and honesty with which this response comes from K'zin does something to help break the tense atmosphere and he can't resist just the smallest of smiles. "I suppose that could-- I could try anyway." The young man takes the suggestion before he's trying to catch one of the healer's hands (smeared or unsmeared as it might be). "Mads, I'm not trying to hurt anyone. Or to lie to anyone. Or to take anyone's choices away from them. I just don't want to be the reason people are getting hurt. It's too heavy. Too awful. I can't bear it. I'm not strong enough. Not for the people I lo-care about." It slurs but it's hardly a good cover for the word that almost made it out of his mouth. There's no attempt from the healer to keep her hand from being taken, however greased up it is: she curls her fingers around K'zin's and gives them a squeeze, listening to the rest of what he has to say. "I believe you," she says, finally. "I don't know that I can agree with your reasoning, not wholly, but... I believe you. I'm sorry. That you're put in that position." And for a lot of things, probably. "Relationships are hard." K'zin's fingers return the squeeze. He gives a small nod to her words, and her apology, though he probably brushes over the latter as though it wasn't said. It's not Madilla's fault, after all. But that last thing... "I've never been in a relationship. Not really. I've- shells, I've never even liked a girl before. I mean, more than to just roll around with." But she's different. "This is all-- I don't feel like I'm old enough to be dealing with any of this." This feelings crap. Sex is fine, but feelings? "I don't think it matters how old you are, the first time. We all struggle; that's part of how it all works." Madilla's smile is almost knowing, though it falls just short of that - still, she seems faintly amused by the idea, as if thinking back over her own past. Her fingers get disentangled, and she goes back to what she was doing, one thing at a time. "Feelings are hard. I'm not sure they ever get easier, except that you get more used to them... until they change on you, and it becomes a surprise." "Healers don't have a fancy procedure for removing a person's feelings, do they? A emotion-ectomy?" K'zin queries, tone more wistful than humorous. He shifts to lean back a little more, now providing more access to the injured parts of his body. "I didn't mean to get in a fight this bad. I underestimated how many friends the guy had." His tone is apologetic. "And I was going to take care of them myself until-- when she touches me, I just want to pretend everything's fine and that I'm not trying to break up with her. It's an unfair tactic." This last comes out as a little bit of a complaint. Damned tricksy womenfolk. Madilla's look could be trying to say a lot of things, chief amongst them being 'if you care so much about her, don't hurt like that', but she's abandoned arguing on that front. It really isn't her business, after all. "You probably shouldn't be getting into fights at all. Is this... a regular occurrence?" She doesn't look pleased, though she's clearly trying not to be judgmental. His first question doesn't get an answer; she has no answer to give. K'zin might be grateful that she doesn't press the point of the girl, but then there's the other thing. He probably would have done better to just keep his mouth shut. He's looking sheepish and brown eyes are flitting anywhere but to Madilla's face. They settle on her hands to watch her tending. "Um." Yes. "Sometimes." A lot. "I'm getting a lot better. And never in places where it's not sort of expected to happen." So K'zin goes to rough places to get beaten up. That should make the worry-prone healer feel better. "But..." Clearly, this is not something Madilla understands - not something she can even begin to comprehend. "But why, K'zin? Why?" Why would he do such a thing? Why would he see the need? She doesn't stop what she's doing, but there's uncertainty to her touch, no. Unfiltered honesty didn't go well for him moments before, and let it not be said that K'zin doesn't learn, even if the lessons are inconveniently timed. "Maybe it's a guy thing." Shrug. "Maybe I don't like how pretty my face is." His nose wrinkles at that, "Azaylia called me a prettyboy. After I called N'rov a prettyboy." An obvious attempt to change the subject away from everything uncomfortable, but maybe Madilla would like an out from the hard topics too? The look he gives her is tentatively hopeful. Madilla seems less sure... and rather less convinced. "There is nothing wrong with how pretty your face is," she says, chidingly, but only in a vague kind of way: perhaps she's given up trying to teach lessons, tonight. They clearly aren't going too well. "And it's definitely not a guy thing." She knows these things, okay? "K'zin... no, forget I said anything. It's not my role. But I don't like it, and I won't. It's self-destructive, and I care too much about you to let it go." Despite that, she seems relatively willing to add, "Is there something wrong with being a prettyboy?" "I don't know. Azaylia said something about prettyboys from 'Reaches shouldn't throw rocks at prettyboys from Fort who catch our golds. Only, I didn't throw any rocks. Just called him a prettyboy." Suddenly, K'zin seems to get it. "Oh." A blush touches his cheeks. "I was a little tipsy when she said it." It's a defense, only, well, K'zin has never been the brightest glow in the basket. "I'll-- try to figure out a better way to get things out. Punching a bag just isn't the same. But... I'll try to sort something out. For you, Mads." 'Because of you' is likely more accurate. The bronzerider's voice is again apologetic. K'zin's moment of realisation might, in other circumstances, amuse Madilla - but tonight she's a little more restrained. It's late, and this conversation hasn't precisely been relaxing, after all. "There's a difference," she says, finally, "between fighting someone outright and just... sparring. I think that's what they call it? Controlled conditions, K'zin; that's all I'm asking for. I know we all need our outlets." That she still isn't comfortable with fighting in general is likely pretty obvious, but she bypasses that in order to make the suggestion. "I just don't want to see you hurt. People die in fights, sometimes. People pull knives." "There is." A difference. K'zin acknowledges it without hesitation, although mothers universally know the tone for the unsaid 'but'. "I'll try to find a way." Because sparring isn't the same as fighting outright, as they've just said. It's controlled conditions. And the lack of control might be what appeals to the bronzerider. But if it is, he doesn't manage to put it into words. Not now anyway. "I won't die," He does add softly. "I know they pull knives. I won't get stabbed, and I won't die. I promise." A promise he can't possibly know for certain he can keep. The way Madilla looks at K'zin, after he makes that promise, makes it quite clear that she doesn't like promises like that-- promises that can't be easily kept, if circumstances require it. "I'll never forgive you, if you let yourself get seriously hurt, K'zin," she tells him, though 'never' is likely dramatic, especially given her remarks not that long ago. "It's stupid. I don't--" She stops, withdrawing her hands, but only so that she can reach for another of her remedies. Still, she must be nearly finished. "If this is what teenage boys are like, I'm not looking forward to Dee becoming one." The way Madilla looks at K'zin, after he makes that promise, makes it quite clear that K'zin is suddenly aware of Madilla's dislike, and possibly also just how ridiculous he sounded in making that promise. He looks taken to task in the very least, and once again apologetic. Perhaps he should just leave that look on his face; it would save time in having to come back to it. "Then I'll have to never get seriously hurt." At least he's not promising this time. "I'm grown, you know. Nineteen is practically not teenage. I'm a man. Ow!" That comes conveniently timed with her touching something that is particularly sensitive and prompts a noise that does not aid his argument. At least Madilla is able to give K'zin a dubious - and yes, faintly amused - glance for his reaction to her touch, though she's quickly apologetic, too, and hastily applies more numbweed. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she says, and yes, that could be taken multiple ways. "Please. Don't let yourself get hurt. Don't hurt yourself. You're... of course you're grown. But that doesn't mean you don't still need people. People who care about you." "I don't keep many of those." K'zin admits quietly. "Alida's done with me now." He frowns, sighing. "I care for Telavi too much. Zay's busy. K'del's-- busy, and there are things." Things he doesn't get into, but there might be rumors about certain insults during Iesaryth's flight passing between the bronzeriders in question. "It's almost enough to make me want to go see if my sister's free, or my younger brother." He sighs heavily. "Nothing feels right being here anymore. Even Ras feels like maybe he'd fit better elsewhere." Telavi. This is the first time that name has come up, and Madilla can't help her reaction: the way her gaze shoots upwards from her work to the bronzerider's eyes, the way her own eyes widen, if only for a moment. "Patch things up with people," she suggests, then, leaving the subject of the greenrider alone-- in the end, it doesn't really matter to her. "If you can. Try. Or certainly, talk to your siblings. It... I know it can be difficult, sometimes. Relationships get complicated. 'Home' is complicated. But it's worth it." K'zin draws a slow breath and it comes raggedly. His voice is then soft, so soft. "Do you remember the time I came into the infirmary just after my family left the Weyr? It was the day after my turnday. I took some bad dives into the lake?" She might not have been there then, so she might only have heard about it, or not at all. "When I was twelve." It was before she really started looking out for him. Before he was just another 'orphan' in High Reaches Weyr. Madilla's hand stops what it has been doing, and instead reaches to take K'zin's hand, longer fingers wrapping around his and giving them a gentle squeeze. Her nod could imply that yes, she remembers... or it could be simply acknowledgement of the event: that it happened. That she can imagine it. That she knows about it. Something. That's all the acknowledgement that K'zin needs to go on. "I- never talked about what really happened. Not to anyone. Ras only knew because he found it in my memory. Telavi asked. And I told her." It couldn't have been that direct, really, but for the purposes of this story, those are the important facts. "I care about her too much, Mads. I'm not-- I'm not the weyrmating sort, and she makes me want to be. I'm-- I don't know how to be that close to anyone. I've been alone since my family left. Until Ras." Which might explain the depth and degree of that relationship. And, of course, it goes without saying that Madilla's been a long-term influence and connection for him, but not especially intimate of friends until more recent turns, and even then... Even then, Madilla is older, at a different stage of life-- not mentor, as such, but a step removed as far as friends go. Her fingers still holding tight to K'zin's, Madilla listens - serious, then intent, and then intensely. "Then you need to learn how to be that close to someone," she says, simply. "Because it's worth it. Because if you care about her that much, it's... it's important. We're not made to be alone, K'zin. And a dragon is not the same as a person; I can't believe that. Be with her." "I don't know if I can. I don't know if I want to." Which is probably the more relevant thing. "I can't--" K'zin starts and then has to stop to gather his thoughts, to find the right words to stitch together these words into his next sentence. "When my family left, I never thought it would be forever. I thought he'd be mad a seven, maybe a month, but not seven turns. And everyone I get close to loving, I screw things up with, I hurt them, or they hurt me, or we mess it up beyond repair." He shakes his head, "I can't make someone my family just to lose them. It's bad enough with K'del. Some days I don't even want to know him. Some days I think it's the stupidest thing I ever did to tell him I thought of him kind of like a dad. That I think of him like family." His hand grips hers now, a sort of desperation in the touch. "It always goes wrong, Mads. And that's without Rasavyth's help," of which Telavi is the unhappy victim. "I never said it was easy," points out Madilla, quietly, after K'zin has finished his rambling rant. "Few worthwhile things are. Yes, of course it hurts when things go wrong. I know." Something in her expression suggests she knows all too well, and that even know she's thinking back to events long passed. "Of course it hurts when we're let down, when things fall apart, when they don't go the way we plan. But I don't believe for a second that means they're not worth trying for. I can't tell you how to live your life, but I can say I think it would be a terrible, tragic thing for you to try and avoid caring about people, just in case you get hurt." K'zin falls silent. At least this is a different kind of silent than the reprimanded ones of before. This is the silence of deep contemplation. He doesn't have words to make an answer with, and, truly, maybe his brain is too abused to even try to make heads and tails of all this complicated stuff just now. He lets his eye slip closed. "I'm sorry I woke you." He departs entirely from the topic. "I- could've gone to the infirmary. Probably should've. But they're not you." Not his healer. Madilla shakes her head. "No, you came to exactly the right place," she murmurs. "Don't ever think otherwise. My door is always open to you." Her fingers give his hand another squeeze, and then withdraw. "What kind of a healer - or friend - would I be, if I wasn't here for you when you needed me? Now - it's late. Do you want me to find you a blanket, and you can sleep on the couch in the lounge?" K'zin's lips pull into a grateful expression that isn't exactly a smile. Maybe a sad excuse for one. "Thanks, Mads." It's simply said. "No. I'll be alright. I've got somewhere to sleep." He is a grown man after all. He can take care of himself, at least that much. He slowly gets to his feet, "Mind if I come by tomorrow for more bruise balm and numbweed? To the infirmary, I mean." Wiping her hands on a clean towel, Madilla hesitates, but then gives a nod of acquiescence. "If you're sure," she says. "I don't want you to feel like you must go out into the cold again. I'll be on duty from lunch-- come and see me any time after that. You'll be all right, in the meantime?" She studies his expression as she asks, seeking out any indications of... well, anything. "I'm sure." He sounds it. K'zin glances down at his chest, and there's a brief rueful look for some unspoken thought, but it's not a sign that she needs to worry more about him. "I'm not going to do anything stupid tonight. I promise." This is one promise he can keep. He does reach for her towel when she's done with it to wipe whatever balm transferred to his hand from hers off before passing it back. "You'll make sure you call on me if you ever need a too-late ride somewhere short-notice, right? I owe you one. At least one." He does manage a half-smile then. As she takes the towel back again, Madilla smiles - fondly, genuinely. "If there's ever anything you can do for me," she agrees, "I promise, I'll ask. Now, go and get some healing sleep. I had better make it back home before anyone misses me. I'll see you tomorrow." |
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