Consolation Prize [OPEN forever]

[Reky]

(ooc: This is an open thread taking place directly after the hatching! Not all of the injured will fit in the infirmary. Those who do not need any more care/supervision will have to leave - it will still be crowded. Feel free to RP amongst yourselves but try not to plug up the thread with you and someone else going back and forth only.)


V'itka had always been a gentle soul. He and Tizenketh had attended the hatching, but only briefly. The young rider had come in happy and left utterly panicked and heartbroken, among some of the first waves to call it quits in Rask's initial spree. He was shaken himself, but more than anything, he felt bad for the candidates and wherlings- and weyrlings-to-be. Tizenketh was not as affected, but he vaguely understood the rush of emotion his human experienced.

Two-fifths of a candlemark, Tizenketh observed. You are upset.

Well, I feel bad, V'itka explained. He rushed his hands through his short black hair, pacing in the bleak light of the cloudy evening. He could still hear the din from the hatching cavern, echoing out through the tunnel into the open air. Other distressed people milled about. Do you think they'll be alright?

Tizenketh wanted the numbers but they were too abstract. His mind clicked away in the long pause, and he finally said, In time.

V'itka hated that answer. He frowned. His four firelizards flocked to him from the gray sky, fighting for space on his shoulders. He was used to it. Then, he had an idea, and set himself to it. He strode quickly to the near-abandoned kitchens, his fair wheeling and chittering in his wake. How many eggs? he asked Tizenketh.

Immediately, Twenty-six and fourteen. Forty.

Well, let's hope for the best. What would you say, two cookies each? Three? Four just in case?

Eighty, one hundred twenty, one hundred sixty. Tizenketh was still watching the hatching but he had little interest beyond the concrete - numbers, seconds, candidates, eggs, babies, time. The events didn't matter to his simple head. The cookies didn't matter, but he liked V'itka's resolve.

The kitchens turned out to be in several states of cooking progress. A weary cook sat on a stool in the corner, frowning at the half-chopped vegetables and barely-trussed wherries. "V'itka," he said, looking up. Everyone in the kitchens knew the blackrider.

"What's all this?" V'itka asked.

"Well, we figured, what's the point? There's not going to be a toast if all the weyrlings an' wherlings end up in the infirmary. No feast." It would be some other day, of course, but the cook was deflated; washed out.

"Fair enough," said V'itka. "But I have an idea."

---

When everything was said and done, and the last blood had been shed and the last monster bonded, those that needed to be were ushered into the infirmary. Shortly after, though he had hoped he would have been more on time, V'itka arrived with a few other conspirators in tow, with baskets of fresh, warm cookies. He gave a lopsided grin.

"Um, well," he said, a little awkward, but genuine. "I just figured you'd all need a little pick-me-up. There's some klah waiting too, but we only have so many hands." He looked over them all, some with small whers perched near them, others with larger dragons, and couldn't begin to imagine how trying the last candlemarks had been. His firelizards joined him but he willed them away to clear the precious breathing room in the crowded clinic. Then, the blackrider began to hand out cookies to those who had free hands.

Inrahim, with Isk staring on his shoulder still, had the bloody dressings on his splinted arm replaced with clean and was due to leave, but he took a cookie from V'itka and smile. "Thank you," he said, and the newly-bonded truly meant it. V'itka blushed, laughed a little, and continued on his way.

Risny, getting looked up and down at her bandaged wounds and red, fresh bruises, passed up the cookies at first. "Are you sure you can't do anything?" she pressed to her healer, who shook his head. "Bruised ribs have to heal on their own," he said, and she was upset. Gabrith watched V'itka go by and did nothing.

What? You're not going to break his arms? Risny nosed.

He has nothing to atone for, Gabrith said. Nothing at all. Unlike you.

When everyone who wanted a cookie had gotten one from V'itka or another cook, the remaining baked goodies were left on a table near the front. V'itka hoped he had made them happier. He hoped that Tizenketh was right - that they'd all be okay, in time. He smiled to them.

"Well, um, congratulations?" he said, and laughed a little. "I bet you'll all be great." And with that he looked carefully over his shoulder, as if he was about to leave to get the klah but couldn't decide whether to go or not. The other bakers had already left for it and the tray of kettles would be on the way shortly.

[/blockquote]

[maruset]

Really, the walk from the Sands to the infirmary was a bit hazy, and Letorin was content to not move anymore once he got settled. His back was a low throb of pain, though he knew he wasn't the worst off there was. So he was content to settle where they stuck him, watching the infirmary a bit dully. Which he hated, but was better than the sharper pain that had sunk in once the shock had started to wear off.

Instead of thinking of the dull ache in his back, Letorin instead was trying to focus on the sensation that he was experiencing from being drugged up. Honestly, he didn't see the appeal to it, though he knew that there were plenty of people addicted to pain numbing medicines. The idea of going through life permanently muffled liked this was actually a little terrifying, and he was already plotting how to escape having to take much more. Though that thought might change once this dose wore off, and he have the full force of the slices on his back to deal with again.

They were neatly stitched up, though, and he'd have to try to puzzle out the scars once things healed. Right now, his attention was drifting, only to be finally caught up by a person coming in with...cookies?

There was a bit of a laugh, which turned into a hiss as that jarred things that he didn't want to jar. Though he did push himself a bit more upright, ignoring the slightly woozy feeling that gave him.

"Don't die, get cookies," he mumbled, giving a faint laugh. Though they did have someone die. And he swallowed down a lump. She had family who lived in the weyr, he'd have to go check on her brother at some point.

That congratulations wasn't for him, and Letorin sagged a bit. Though he did give the rider a rather giddy grin. "Thank you for the treat." He nibbled at it, looking around some at the others in the infirmary, seeing who else was here. Now, if only his brain would start making connections again.

[princesal]

I think the healers hate me.
They do not hate you, D'nariMine. You are an epitome of health!
...
Oh, you mean right now? Yes... I am sure they dislike you very much.

Why did D'nari think the healers hated him? Well from the moment that Letorin was off the Sands, he had been trying to see him, just to be able to get close and check that he was alright himself. He should have probably gone to G'lin's weyr, a few sips of wine would have at least calmed his nerves, and he wouldn't look like he had gotten into a fight with a flock of firelizards that left his hair looking the way it did.

It didn't matter, not right now, not until he was sure that Letorin was alright.

When he was finally given the go, that they were allowing visitors, but with the warning that Letorin had been given something for the pain, D'nari all but ran in. It made have seemed callous but he barely paused to look at the others who had injuries, possibly worse injuries, shards, a wherling didn't have a hand anymore! D'nari didn't even stop to offer well wishes or smiles, or encouragements for health.

When he finally saw Letorin, he headed straight towards him.

Tell him that I would like him to get better as soon as possible.
You're not the only one.

He was glad it was still quiet, so that when he finally was standing next to him, there was no one else, not on medication, to intrude. Kneeling at the side of Letorin's bed. He just stared at him for a moment, before reaching forward and gently running his fingers through that hypnotic hair. "Hey, Letorin? Enciath wants you to get better as soon as possible..."

Now that he was here, his feelings about when he saw on the Sands came flooding back, the anger the worry the fear the possessiveness... the jealousy... "I can't stay long... I don't think the Healers are happy with me." His hand found Letorin's, and he was suddenly incredibly glad that his friend wasn't perfectly clear headed, as he raised that hand and pressed a soft kiss to Letorin's knuckles. "I'm so happy you're not dead." His voice caught at that last word, and he squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Letorin's hand a little tighter.

He figured that all of Letorin's friends would be in soon, D'nari was claiming this semi-private time. Selfish? Yes, but he didn't care how selfish he seemed. Then he was standing up, letting go of Letorin's hand so that he could hover over him. "I don't want to be in the way, but I'll be back. I'll be back every day until you are released." With a quick swoop down, his lips pressed against Letorin's forehead, and then D'nari was retreating.

----

Otto didn't want to be in a bed, but he was. He also didn't want to be drugged, but he was. Actually, if taking requests, he didn't really want to have more then a fair share of stitches in both of his calves, trying to hold together... well... just trying to hold it together. He'd been lucky, that was him, lucky Otto. The healer's who had taken care of him had told him that he was lucky. Any bit lower, and those claws could have gone right through a tendon at his ankle that would have been difficult to repair and leave him with one shell of a limp. But instead he was told it would just be scars.

His face was also bandaged, and that would scar as well, once again were comments of his luck. By the end of being all sewn up and bandaged, he had a huge smile on his face that they kept telling him not to make because it tugged on the cut on his face. He felt lucky! He was lucky! Sure, he was face down in a bed, because the claw marks were on the back of his leg, but he still felt really good, and happy.

Or maybe that was the medication talking. No no, he was sure it was. "Next time will be even better." He let himself slip into fantasies about next time. From what he had seen today, he let his mind wander, until rainbrow dragons were hatching - no! flying! They were flying out of their shells-glittery shells... with swords! Yes! and staffs! They were battle dragons, and were choosing warriors! Oh! and more whers! He had liked the look of whers when they were hatching. Sure, some of them had been mean, but they were confused babies, and seemed to have lots of personality. He was going to have to find out how he could stand for them too. Would he be allowed?

Smacking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he sat up, careful to not try and flex or move the muscles on his legs, and reached for the clay tumblr full of water nearby. Getting his drowsy fingers around it, and bringing it to his mouth, he managed to not only miss his entire mouth, but dump the entire cup over onto the bed, soaking it. Then the cup rolled off the bed, the hard clay shattering on the ground. In an effort to escape the water, he rolled over, and off the bed, landing on his rear. Beds were not his friend today, that was the second time that happened.

"I'm fine!" He waved his hand in the air, and sounded more amused then in pain. "Uh... I broke a cup, sorry!" Getting back into bed... there was the challenge.

[Maggie]

Delicious! Delicious is be hurt! Gennesk is be sad, is be worried! Gennesk nearly bowled D'nari over in his attempt to get at Letorin. He had been very, very sneaky. The healers were very busy and he had slipped in while they weren't looking to visit his most favourite Candidate. Delicious was not for bite or for scratch! How dare that stupid little Iron hurt his Delicious, he would stomp it flat! He dropped some flowers by Letorin's head. He had brought them as a get better soon present.

"Gennesk, stop crowding him," Genner grumbled. He had left Mouse with G'lin and some Weyrlings, including that huge copper who liked Weyrbrats so much, just so that he could chase after the silly brown. "And don't drop plants on him, the healers won't like it." He picked up the flowers, making sure they were out of the way.

He glanced over at D'nari. "My son said to tell you that he was saving some wine for you," he growled. "It's some of my good Tillek red, you'd had better not let it go to waste."

[Rii]

Nori was comfortably installed in one of the infirmary beds, as little as she wanted to be there. She’d been happy to doze with all of her family close around her, but the healers had to see to her back and R’hia had needed his own injuries seen to, so the infirmary it was. Thanks to copious amounts of numbweed and a drop or two of fellis she wasn’t in any pain, but it was doubtful that she’d be going anywhere under her own power for a while. She was still quite drowsy, especially now that things didn’t hurt, and…

Cookies?

The former Holdless had a confirmed sweet tooth and she was more than willing to prop her eyelids open long enough to claim one or two of the baked treats for herself. “Thank you,” she told the boy - young man, really - that had announced that they’d brought the goodies for the survivors. Trying a bite, she beamed. “They’re really good!”

I wonder that you can even taste anything, as muddled as you are right now, Noirath commented dryly. The burgundy dragonet was curled comfortably on the floor next to the head of her bed, where she could easily drop a hand down and touch him.

“Silly, I can taste just fine. M’just sleepy,” she returned.

I am not silly, he retorted defensively. Merely observant of what others overlook.

Norilana relaxed back on the bed, nibbling the cookie contentedly. “Well, maybe ye’re- you’re not so silly, then. But they’re still really good cookies.” She took a drowsy look around the infirmary, seeking a familiar face. They were full up as it was, so she had the uneasy feeling that her brothers wouldn’t be allowed to stay. Just her. Something twisted in the pit of her gut. Just me. I’ll be on my own.

Foolish! You are not on your own, my Norilana. I am right here, and I am staying here. They can try to throw me out, but they won’t, not if they value their hands. Noirath stretched his head up to look at her. You will see.