Things that Go Bump in the Night (Lee!)

[Rii]

{desc=Nori/Joshu}The wher clawed his way up her back, wrapping his tail around her neck choke-tight. She couldn’t breathe! No matter how she scrabbled at it with her hands, she couldn’t get his tail to loosen. She could feel his claws tearing her open, spilling her blood, Ranthian’s blood as he screamed her name and tried to pry the murderous brown off of her. Her own cries were less audible, she had no air and somehow her hands were too slick with blood to grip and pull anymore-

Norilana. Norilana, wake up. You’re dreaming again, wake up.

Nori’s dark brown eyes snapped open, inhaling a huge breath. Somehow she’d gotten so snarled up in her sheets that she’d thought she was trapped, and they were damp with fear-sweat. Unwinding them carefully from around her slender frame, the burgundy weyrling slid off of her bed and onto the floor, where Noirath waited patiently. He allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck and cuddle against him, shivering. He didn’t even make comments on how silly she was being.

This was not the first time she’d had a Hatching-nightmare. She’d had them fairly frequently, especially in the first few sevendays following her first, last and only time Standing. Only the exhaustion from caring for Noirath and recovering from her injuries had kept her sleeping at some semblance of normality. But now - what was it now, not quite a full season later? - she’d hoped that by now she’d stop dreaming about being choked and bleeding out, begging for someone to help without an answer.

Whatever. She’d tried to keep a stiff upper lip through all of it and not run crying to her brothers, because she was supposed to be a dragonrider now and past that. Except she wasn’t. She was still a thirteen-turn-old girl and she needed her big brothers now more than ever. And nothing on the face of Pern could convince her to go back to sleep right away. Not now. Coming to a decision, she grabbed for her boots, intending on going for L’nor or R’hia.

You can’t. You’re not allowed to, remember what the Weyrlingmaster said, her burgundy put in sleepily. He was only a baby and inclined to be a bit cranky at being woken up every sevenday or less by his rider’s distress. Still, he remembered the rules. You’re supposed to only meet them in the common areas. And I am -not- calling Mattoth or Sekaith. They need their sleep. Like I do, he added in a grumpy tone.

Nori bit her lower lip. That was true. All of them needed their sleep. But she wanted someone now. Which meant… her eyes lit up. Joshu wasn’t a weyrling, he was a wherling. Which meant he’d be awake. He might even be having what counted as his lunch, at this time of night. Wherlings didn’t have as many lessons, right? Can you call Jossk, then, please? Ask… um… if he’s not busy with chores if I can see him in the courtyard.

Noirath huffed a dragon’s long-suffering sigh. If he hadn’t known exactly how upset Norilana was, he would have told her to go back to bed. And of course it hadn’t even occurred to her to talk to her Weyrlingmaster or a healer first. She was too used to her brothers being the only authority figures she had to rely on. Jossk, he called the green wheret. If your bonded is not doing chores or lessons or tending you, my Norilana needs him. -If- he can, tell me and we will wait in the weyrling barracks courtyard, where we break no rules.

Only once he had the positive confirmation - or if he had it - did he nudge his rider into motion, prodding her to take her blanket and go wait where she wasn’t out running wild through the Weyr at night or bothering any other weyrling. He wasn’t sure if this was perfectly defined by the rules, but he would make it as close to acceptable as possible.

[lee]

Needs more salt.

Joshu barely managed to avoid dropping the entire shaker into the pot, as his arm was abrubtly heavier by the weight of one wher who was—despite what she said—getting way too big to try and clamber up on his shoulders like she was doing at precisely that moment. Almost amused, the man raised his eyebrows and murmured, “Oh? Why’s that?

Because it does.

A small chuckle escaped, but Joshu lowered the shaker to stir the pot without adding any more. “All the same, I think it has enough.” He said gently, quietly. The kitchens were quiet this hour, which was, he suspected, the only reason why the woman in charge had allowed him in the back with his wher, who had done her best to look small, pitiful, and shiveringly cold. He—and Jossk—had been allowed in, but warned that one toe out of line and they could eat crusts in their room for the next turn. Joshu had missed the kitchen enough to risk it. And his soup was perfect, no matter what Jossk said. Except the skinny green wher dived, dunked her face in the pot—to the concerned shout of "Jossk!", that stuff was hot—and turned to stare balefully at Joshu. Confident, Jossk licked the last of the liquid off of her face, and smugly said,

See. Tastes gross. Total ugh. Needs more salt.

Joshu felt a headache starting, staring at his now…wher-face-washed soup and decided that she’d been mostly clean, they’d just had a bath, and the oil wouldn’t change the flavor too much. So he scooped himself a bowl and sipped it. "Are you sure it doesn’t just taste gross because you’re a wher and only eat meat?"

Tastes gross because needs more sal—

Jossk trailed off, to Joshu’s alarm. "Jossk?"

Jossk and Joshu come! Jossk replied to the burgundy weyrling, informing her handler as well. As soon as Joshu add more salt to soup.

Joshu blinked in confusion. "What?"

Jossk sighed with utmost patience, and slowed her words down since he clearly did not understand. Good thing he had her. The soup! Is be needing more SALT.

Joshu swatted at her, and she dodged, jumping nimbly off his shoulder but staying close to the fire. “No! Not that. Where are we going?”

Joshu’s Nori wants Joshu.

Joshu frowned. What was she doing up at this hour? Alarmed, and worried, mother hen instincts nevertheless kicked in. “Ask her if she wants soup.

Ask Noirath’s if want soup. Trust Jossk, answer is be no. Needs salt.

JOSSK.

[Rii]

They are coming. We will go out to the courtyard. Maybe we’re not supposed to be out of bed this late but at least we won’t be leaving where we’re supposed to stay at night, rule-conscious Noirath directed. So if we are going to get in trouble for your nightmares, let us at least get in the minimum amount of trouble possible.

Nori bit her lower lip, ducking her head and pulling on her boots. She already wore loose pants and an equally loose shirt, her preferred sleeping clothes just out of habit of not having a lot of clothes and not wanting to have to change in an emergency. “M’sorry, Noirath. I know you want to be sleeping, and think I should too.” There was no sharding way that she was getting back in that bed yet. Not with that murderous brown waiting for her to sleep again so he could tear her guts out. No. Nope. Not happening. She shivered, fumbling with her bootlaces with trembling fingers before just giving up.

The burgundy offered a long-suffering sigh. Well, it seems it won’t happen until you get your talk, headstrong as you are. So let us get it out of the way.

The girl nodded, snagging the blanket off of her bed to wrap around her. It was autumn and the nights were getting cool, but really, she had already woken up chilled to the bone for reasons that had nothing to do with seasonal temperatures. Then she padded outside to sit on a bench in the courtyard and wait. Noirath curled up on the ground, the solid weight of him pressed against her leg.

With the amount of time he spends in the kitchen, he can’t be completely inept there, Noirath pointed out dryly to Jossk. Norilana, Jossk says Joshu wishes to know if you want soup. He has been cooking.

“Oh… um… can you tell him yes, please?” A mug of hot soup would be just the soothing kind of snack to help warm her up and calm her down. Better than klah, especially since she was planning on sleeping again. Eventually.

Norilana says yes, please. I believe she has more faith in her brother’s abilities than you do. So there, miss know-it-all.

[lee]

His leg ached. Or, to be more precise, the space where his leg used to be ached, because the pain, as it always did, came from below the knee, where there was nothing at all to actually be the source of or feel pain. It didn't make any sense. Joshu had told himself sternly that he couldn't feel pain. But feel it he did, for all that it made no sense, and he had come to live with it best he could. It was useful in its way. He'd always have a sense for Threadfall, which felt like burning, twisting. But the ache he had now, he mused, probably only meant snow. Jossk caught wind of this and sneezed, which somehow managed to express her intense displeasure with the thought of frozen precipitation even more than a scowl or hiss would have. The skinny wher followed her sneeze up with a snort of pure disgust and immediately entwined herself around Joshu's good leg and the peg, circling them like a cat and leaning hard against the limb as though intending to leech warmth from it.

"Stop that." He murmured automatically. For one, it made walking harder than it already was, and secondly, there was going to be a time where she'd be too big for that and he did not really want to encourage it into becoming habit. Jossk snorted again and ignored him except for a pointed explanation of COLD. and he sighed before leaning down, wrapping his scarf around the skinny green—she was small enough and he was large enough that his scarf could cover most of her if he wrapped it right. He then put two gloves over her stumpy wings. Better?

Jossk did not move from between his leg and peg leg. Better. She decided, before responding at last to Noirath with a snotty, What stupid Burgundummy know about soup? Nothing. Know wherry poop about soup. Jossk be in kitchen too. Jossk KNOW things. Coming now.

Joshu carefully ladled some of the soup into a large mug and gently laid a towel over it to keep most of the warmth from escaping before heading to the clearing that the night-eyed Jossk led the way too without a single misstep. His sister looked so small with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and the already large dragonet by her side. He felt a sentimental twinge and stifled it. She’d been even smaller a turn ago. She was growing, and he had to face it some time or another. He took a seat quietly and Jossk was instantly on his lap, burrowing into his coat as he tried not to slosh the mug proffered to Nori. "Moon morning, sis. Hello Noirath."

[Rii]

Burgundummy? Well, if his mom had been around to hear that, she would have knocked Jossk flat, so she would have. Noirath’s tail flicked. I don’t have to know about human food, he returned irritably. My Norilana knows. Yours knows, or I hope he would, since if he -didn’t- after all that time spent preparing food, he could only be hopelessly inept. So unless you picked an inept handler on purpose... He couldn’t resist putting the spin back on her. He’d always said she’d picked someone just so she could talk down to them.

Nori huddled in her blanket. It was cold. Winter would come all too soon, she felt. She didn’t like winter, and it was entirely a product of growing up where heat and shelter and warm clothing were not always certainties. How many times had they found themselves huddled close because body heat was the only heat they could count on? Alright, so usually they had a fire, usually there was a cave or overhang or something to help keep off wind and snow and rain, but it wasn’t like living at the Weyr, where there was always a warm bed to go to at night and hot food in the kitchens.

And medicines in the infirmary. Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold. If a wild wher had got her the way that the baby wher did at the hatching, would she have died? R’hia had done what he could, and her persistent belief was that it had saved her. But if there’d been infection, if he hadn’t had access to all that they had… there were so many buts and ifs that she didn’t really want to contemplate, and it was with great relief that she heard Noirath announce They’re here, to look up and see Joshu and Jossk.

Her expression brightened at the sight of her big brother and the calm rumble of his voice in greeting. Joshu was there, so everything would be okay. “Moon morning, Joshu.” She had to grin a little at the sight of Jossk, all bundled up in a scarf with gloves waggling on her stubby little wings. “Hey, Jossk.” She managed to avoid the drips of liquid that managed to escape the lip of the mug in transfer, blowing on the surface before sipping. She smiled at her brother. “It’s good as ever, big brother.”

Noirath offered a curt bob of his head at Joshu’s greeting, before turning his head back to Norilana. So. He’s here. Now talk to him.

[lee]

Jossk sees. The wher responded, snootily and full of triumph, Burgundummy admit knows nothing. Jossk right. Flicking her tail in victory, she added privately to Joshu, As always. Joshu, who had not been privy to the conversation between dragonet and wheret, blinked in puzzled confusion.

What?

But Jossk, being Jossk, did not deign to answer, and trotted ahead of him, occasionally pouncing on suspicious piles of frost-touched leaves and shaking herself off like a canine, sending the sullen slush scattering all over her bonded, and ignored the latter half of Noirath's point because...well because she was Jossk. She did things like that. Joshu watched her romp without care and shook his head slightly, his thoughts echoing Norilana's almost exactly, though he didn't know it. How easily Jossk let the cold in. confident that she would be warm again soon. How easily she played. Here, at Dalibor, there was an easy confidence to the coming winter, a celebration to it, that was foreign to Joshu. Even in the hold, which he had only fuzzy memories of, winter had been hard.

He thought of trying to convince Jossk of anything and decided, grimly, it was still hard. Just in different manner.

Jossk, eavesdropping on his private thoughts—which she always did, and Joshu had about given up telling her but out—snorted Not hard to convince Jossk. Joshu just have to be being right. Then Jossk do what Joshu ask. Not Jossk fault Joshu no use brainpan before opening mouth. She looked at him forlornly and sighed the sigh of the weary and wise. And Joshu have such good brainpan. Jossk no understand why it not be being used more often.

Joshu decided, after a moment of reflection and a distinct pound in the general vicinity of his temples, to let that go.

Jossk whistle-snorted, which was her version of a response to Norilana's greeting, eyed the blanket around the girl's shoulders and decided that was most assuredly the place to be. So as Joshu sat gently on the bench next to his sister, the skinny green wher hopped up as well, and flung herself like a spoiled child over the pair's laps, curling her tail around herself like a feline and wriggling like a mouse until she was comfortable. Yes, good. she announced to everyone in the vicinity, and promptly began to ignore the entirety of the conversation around her in favor of pretending to sleep. Joshu opened his mouth to object and then silently shook his head. Nori looked cold. Maybe the extra warmth of the strange creature who had attached herself to him—to them, really, because nothing any sibling did in this family was truly about themselves only—would help. "You didn't call for me because you knew I'd have soup," He offered, gentle concern softening the veiled invitation to explain. He had to smile at the stiff nod of Noirath, and from it, gathered that he wasn't entirely onboard with this midnight meeting. Which, he thought sadly, eyes on the young girl's hands as she took the soup, only added to his suspicion that this wasn't just for fun.

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