another heart calls (tags r’wign)

[Avu]

Her steps were slow – perhaps a good thing, for Meira was clearly not paying much attention to where she was putting her feet. The wherhandler’s unseeing gaze was fixed on the floor that was moving below her. Both arms were crossed loosely across her lower abdomen, and she was biting her lip nervously. Zesa was gliding in slow loops over her head – her shoulders were tense, slightly hunched in thought, not making the best of perches – and occasionally the gold twittered a warning when she approached stairs or something, but there was no need; she’d gone over this part of the Weyr, could walk it in her sleep – which, at this time of day, she really ought to be; Meisk was curled asleep in their room even as she made her way through the halls, and the wherhandler looked very much like she needed to be curled up asleep, too.

Meira paused at the door to the Infirmary, gaze sweeping around the familiar room. The stiffness faded slightly; there was no place she felt more at home than the Infirmary. Even the new wherhandlers’ apartments felt foreign, though no doubt that would ease in time. The clean-swept floors and the scent of herbal mixtures – some of which really did smell foul – were nice – familiar – even if rather nauseating. Zesa clearly liked the Infirmary, too; the gold swept in to land neatly on one of the chairs’ armrests, tail looping around the wooden frame and anchoring her in place firmly as she folded her wings shut and then glanced at Hers anxiously, a low trill sounding in her throat as the wherhandler swallowed, glancing at Zesa for a moment before she flickered the gold a slight half-smile.

After all, it was the Infirmary, and she was still…undecided, anyway. It could change, things could happen…all she was doing today was trying to find R’wign. Whether or not he approved…well, she hadn’t quite decided what she wanted his reaction to be, because she was still trying to figure out her own reaction. One of her hands, which had shifted to being folded across her stomach, rose, nervously curling a lock of her hair around her finger, tugging at it as she made her way slowly across the room, towards the rows of patients and cots – and R’wign. Zesa hopped from chair arm to chair arm, and finally took wing again, gliding into to land on one of the unoccupied cots closest to R’wign. The queen glanced backwards towards Hers, giving a conciliatory chirrup, followed by a soft trill. She didn’t see what was so bad – she really didn’t…but humans were strange, they were. She already knew that…

Meira followed Zesa, glancing automatically over the patients. Some of them were dozing; others stared at her; still others looked completely disinterested as she made her way slowly to R’wign’s side, biting her lip with nervousness. Maybe if she didn’t – could she – just pretend – if she didn’t say it aloud, maybe she could pretend it wasn’t so, could pretend nothing was wrong and that nothing needed to be said…but she’d already come, and she inhaled deeply, grinding her teeth together for a moment before she cleared her throat nervously, smiling weakly at R’wign, her expression distinctly apologetic for interrupting him. It was his shift, but that was the only time where Meira knew where he would be – and she didn’t want to have to stalk him down.

“R’wign…?” Her voice was soft, probably only barely audible. “I need to talk to you…so, um…when you’ve finished with whatever you’re doing, can you come…just outside?” Meira jerked one hand deftly towards the weyrledge – thank Faranth for ground-level Weyrs – before she glanced questioningly at him for one more moment – and then turned on her heel, making her way outside, head bowed slightly. Zesa remained behind, staring curiously at R’wign – and then chirped once, the sound undeniably urgent: Hurry before Hers lost her nerve and left, please and thank you very much.

[glamourie]

“You’ll feel a little better after you sleep, I promise. The tea will help, even if it does taste foul.” It would help because he’d laced it with enough sedatives that even a gold dragon would be zonked out from it, but R’wign didn’t voice that as he regarded his patient - a young woman who was sweating profusely. The healer leaned forward, and whispered to her, “When you wake up, we can give you more medication for the infection.” The woman made a face at him, plugged her nose and then took a sip of her tea before nodding at him. R’wign put one hand on her shoulder and smiled reassuringly, before following her gaze over his shoulder just as speaking from somewhere behind him drew his attention. He glanced toward Meira and nodded his understanding before gesturing to the patient again. When she finished the tea up, he stepped away from her cot. It would only be a matter of moments before she fell unconscious as a direct result of the sedatives in the tea, but he was sure that she would feel better when she woke up.

Toddling toward the weyrledge, R’wign was accompanied by quite the entertaining mob of critters. Two different felines padded after him. The fluffy one that Lennae gave him, named ‘Monster’ by accident, was following around the cream-colored one that remained quite happily at R’wign’s heels everywhere that he went. He hadn’t named the female yet because he was of the opinion that naming her made it seem like he intended to keep her, and he did not. He just hadn’t figured out who to give the little feline to yet. She didn’t seem to have any tolerance for anyone but him. She outright growled, flattened her ears, and actively tried to scratch and bite. She was only kind to him. Him, of all people. He had no idea why either, because he wasn’t exactly nice to her… though, R’wign was incapable of being unkind to any living creature. He just wasn’t wired that way.

The felines were only two of his mob of eight remaining critters spread throughout the infirmary. Collision was sound asleep on one of the ledges, and Crash was plowed against him, literally laying on top of the sleeping blue flitter. Roxie and Stumpy were perched on R’wign’s desk together, curled amongst one another with the green’s head resting between her mate’s wings. Ellie was sitting at the end of a cot with one of the child patients, who had a fever and was miserable; she was made happier by the little gold periodically chittering to her. Hazard was off with his mate, no doubt doting upon the fat gold salamandyr shamelessly and R’wign was embarrassed by his utter joy with her -- it was as though Brat could do no wrong! Only Grouch remained with R’wign, wide awake and periodically launching into long tirades that may or may not have been the fire lizard equivalent of swearing. He didn’t like to go far.

Brushing his hands over his pants, R’wign cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at Meira. He glanced back toward Zesa, sure that the gold would follow, and then turned his focus back to the wherhandler entirely. “Meira, you look like you haven’t slept for a sevenday and it’s broad daylight, what in the world are you doing up?” Squinting, he stepped forward and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead worriedly. “You’re not sick too, are you? All the brats are coming down with colds and infections, it’s really very annoying, even some of the drudges have - you’ll have your work cut out for you tonight.” Always the talkative one, R’wign was. “Though if you need the evening off because you’re sick, I don’t mind covering it for you -- you really do look like you should get some rest…”

On his shoulder, Grouch took one look at Meira… and then scolded loudly. That one scold was followed by a quiet string of chirrups and chattering that made it clear he didn’t appreciate having his whole perch disrupted because she needed something, didn’t she know that she was bothering him? He was comfortable and she had to go and make His move, and all because what, what, she looked sick? Haaaaarumph, well she could tough it out, as far as he was concerned because there was never any excuse for massively inconveniencing him that way. Why oh why did females not ever bother to think first? Ruffling his wings, Grouch spat, then gave Meira a warning look before launching into another tirade, all while R’wign spoke. Fortunately, his little tantrum was quiet enough that R’wign could be heard clearly above it all, but there was no doubting that he was a very unhappy and grumpy little blue flit. How dare she cause him even the slightest moment of inconvenient. What a thoughtless creature.

[Avu]

Zesa flapped both wings animatedly, the gold firelizard sparing the woman on the receiving end of R’wign’s attentions at present a pleasant twitter. The queen had taken it upon herself to be one of the few Infirmary mascots, and as far as she was concerned, her job was to cheer up the people who needed it as much as possible – which was kind of hard, considering that this particular woman looked to be very quickly falling asleep. Nevertheless, the gold fluted pleasantly before she hopped from bedpost to bedpost, glancing for Stumpy at the same time – she had not forgotten the blue, even if he’d forgotten her; she paused long enough to catch sight of him, fast asleep with Roxie, before she took to wing after R’wign, gliding low, close to the ground, and then twirling upwards again; whether or not Hers was pleased, Zesa was, and it was apparent in the sparkling blues of her eyes – blues that were slightly muted by worry, an emotion directly taken from Hers.

Meira had hardly gotten out onto the weyrledge before she leaned her back against the stone wall next to the entrance; one hand came up to cover her eyes, the wherhandler swallowing slight nausea – she was pretty sure said nausea was due to nerves, rather than the smells of the Infirmary; she was used to those. For a moment, she focused simply on inhaling and exhaling; there was a very odd numb feeling in her mind – she wasn’t quite aware of thinking very hard about anything in particular – the thoughts she did have were aimless, empty questions; where had Zesa gone – and how long would it take – ? And…her stomach dropped and the wherhandler swallowed again – what if he hated her because of – ?

A familiar weight on her shoulder, and the gold firelizard’s affectionate nuzzle to her cheek, made the wherhandler straighten, raising her eyes to R’wign. Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak – she hadn’t planned on what to say; she’d been hoping she could just – just say it, get it out and over with – but her throat seemed to have – seemed to have stuck. R’wign didn’t seem to have noticed it, however; he was already talking and for the moment, Meira was content to let him; she automatically flinched at Grouch’s scolding, but Zesa’s tail twisting around her shoulder and the queen’s warning chirp towards Grouch made Meira look up again at the Healer even as Zesa flapped her wings again, anxiety prickling her gaze; couldn’t he tell that Hers wasn’t feeling well – didn’t he have anything better to do than make her feel worse? Couldn’t he learn from Stumpy – Stumpy was nice; this one wasn’t – bad blue – bad.

Crossing her arms across her abdomen again, the wherhandler shook her head in a silent negative; she wasn’t sick. “I’m okay,” she stammered, barely resisting the urge to duck away from his hand. Meira was pretty sure that she’d have the sense to curl up and sleep if she was sick, as opposed to wandering around the Weyr in broad daylight. But R’wign’s offer made her shake her head again, biting her lip until Zesa nudged her cheek anxiously. It was the gold firelizard’s affectionate concern – combined with R’wign actually caring and Grouch’s complaints – as well as her own condition – that drew the tears, and for a moment, Meira wasn’t even quite sure why she was crying; embarrassed, she raised one hand to rub away the tears, bowing her head slightly before she took a breath and closed her eyes briefly before she spoke, her voice clearly nervous as she spoke the words – nearly choking on them –

“I’m not sick – I – I think I’m pregnant.”

There: It was out. Meira wasn’t even addressing R’wign; her head was bowed, her eyes focused on the weyrledge below them. There was very, very little question as to the father; she didn’t sleep around, and Meisk hadn’t Chased, and R’wign – well, suffice to say the symptoms matched up with the dates. If R’wign didn’t get it – the fact that she’d come to him made it very obvious, she thought. Turning her head, Meira shrugged her free shoulder weakly. “I just…thought you ought to know. I don’t – ” She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut to keep back tears again – “I don’t…expect…anything…”

[glamourie]

Okay? She didn’t look okay, she looked sick, R’wign was tempted to point out again. She looked like she’d gone a week without sleep and probably would be going more soon enough. Didn’t she realize that…? It was highly tempting to shove Meira down and force a sedative in her, because looking that tired was not normal by any stretch of the imagination. She was a healer, but - so was Savitri, and Savitri was known for senselessly going without food and eating. How many times had he placated Ka’rys when the bronze rider flew into a tantrum because his lover-- excuse him, weyrmate-- was irresponsible with her health? (Because R’wign was the pillar of responsibility where health was concerned as evidenced by his own permanent breathing condition. Right.) If Meira spent any time at all with the senior apprentice, she may have been learning bad habits and he was just about to scold her himself when she opened her mouth to speak again. R’wign respectfully reached up and snapped Grouch’s mouth closed, effectively silencing the blue fire lizard who looked enraged at the treatment -- but would get over it soon enough, surely. Zesa’s scold sealed the deal and as R’wign dropped his hand, Grouch took to giving Meira and Zesa both hideous looks before actively chewing on R’wign’s ear. That would teach him, it would.

The tears on Meira’s face actually alarmed him and R’wign stepped forward, actively brushing them away with his hand. He didn’t register the blue fire lizard attempting to gnaw his ear off (he was more than used to being bitten), mostly because he was very distracted. She wasn’t someone who was usually prone to emotional outbursts and seeing Meira upset worried him; through the back of his mind, he wondered whether or not he needed to beat someone up for hurting her. He certainly wasn’t above it. Usually he would deem protecting Meira as M’ta’s job, but his fellow brown rider was somewhat out of commission due to his injuries, so he would step up and… well, if all else failed, he could let Grouch eat their ears. That would make an effective point. R’wign crinkled his nose and brushed the blue fire lizard away, earning an indignant chirp before Grouch flew off to find someone else to bother. They weren’t all that interesting anyway!

Her words made him freeze and very visibly tense. For a few seconds, R’wign actually wondered if he heard her right. Pregnant. The word sounded so alien to him, and his mind immediately rejected the possibility of him ever fathering a child. He’d been with Marra for near on three turns without ever producing an offspring, and it wasn’t like they’d gone without for all that long of time. If he hadn’t fathered a child in that time span (she didn’t between at all), how could he afterwards? He was sure that he was sterile, but -- but nothing. Meira wouldn’t have lied, and she was crying. He couldn’t accuse a crying woman of lying, and she wouldn’t have come to him unless she was sure. Besides that, she was much too shy to ever -- to ever sleep with anyone else. It wasn’t as though Meira was exactly known for bed hopping or anything, so there was no question as to paternity, but how was it --

I think this is good news. Why are you so quiet? You should answer her. You’ll upset her, you will, being quiet this way. Say something, R’wignmine, please, she’s already leaking out of her eyes…

Checkoth’s voice startled him back into reality, and he had no idea how long he was quiet - it couldn’t have been more than a minute. Forcing some of the tension back out of his shoulders, he replayed in his mind what Meira said before leaning his head down to look at her face. With her bowing hers that way, it took some doing in order to meet her eyes, and he cocked his head to the side before lifting her chin with one finger. If she was going to be dropping the equivalent of a big fat gold dragon on his head, the least she could do was look him in the face when she did it. His stomach hurt, and he was very tempted to throw up… but… somehow, despite himself, he managed to refrain. Barely.

“You think…?” It wasn’t an accusation, more an inquiry, and R’wign was proud that his voice did not sound remotely aggressive. Slightly nervous, yes, but that was expected, right…? “What symptoms do you have, and how long has it been since your last cycle?” Maybe if he tried approaching it from a healer angle it would be less awkward? Unlikely, but… “We converted Shmee’s old office into one for the journeymen. I’m the only one on duty with Kali out of commission. Do you want to go inside and sit down to talk about this, instead of standing out here…?”



And then R'wign fainted.

[Avu]

A good portion of Zesa’s attention was on Hers, but there was another part of it focused solely on Grouch; clearly the blue needed to be watched, since he was being so rude; couldn’t he tell that he was being mean by scolding – ? R’wign stepping closer brought the blue closer, and the gold actually hissed in agitation; Hers was upset and he was not helping. Actually, Zesa didn’t know what to do, really – she’d always considering being eggheavy as a good thing, not a bad, and – well, how did she comfort Hers for a good thing? Maybe – maybe she was just acting like humans did when they were eggheavy; apparently mood swings were normal? The gold didn’t quite understand it, but if Hers said so, she supposed it had to be true – but that didn’t mean she had to like it, and Zesa didn’t. The gold nuzzled closer to Meira’s neck, eyeing Grouch warily as the blue…took up chewing on R’wign’s ear. Her eyes flicked towards the brownweyrling touched Hers, but it was Grouch’s departure that marked the queen’s relaxing; now that he was gone, it wouldn’t be as bad, would it?

That R’wign had tried to physically ease the tears was…nice of him, and well-intended, doubtlessly, and Meira couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away because she knew it was supposed to comfort her, but – but – what if he hated her, was upset because of – because of the baby? One hand tightened slightly on her abdomen, and Meira swallowed again, unable to meet his gaze as the brownweyrling froze; he was very obviously tense, and she couldn’t blame him; how were you supposed to take news like that? But it was only on a higher, more impersonal level that the wherhandler registered that; at that moment, the first thought was that he hated her because of it and – and – Zesa hummed encouragingly in her ear, and Meira squeezed her eyes shut tightly again, shaking her head slightly, an automatic, numb gesture of self-deprecation; tears were coming faster now, and Meira raised both arms, using the heel of her palm to rub her eyes.

This was…stupid and wrong and she was too young to be having a baby and – and she really didn’t know what to do…and R’wign’s silence was not helping. She was still staring numbly at the ground, swallowing as hard as she could to keep from actually crying when the brownweyrling lifted her chin up, and Meira thoughtlessly let him, blinking away the blurriness that insisted on hovering around her eyes. The tears had mostly stopped; Zesa’s musical fluting in her ear, the queen’s fussing over her, and the sudden calm of despair had very abruptly and completely settled over her – her shoulders slumped slightly; they’d been hunched, almost protectively, previously. The full gravity of the situation – her condition – was very heavy; what was she supposed to do – how was she going to – the Infirmary – the Night Watch – everything – Meira almost swayed on the spot, a nausea that was very much emotional twisting her stomach.

Questions. They helped – it gave her something to focus on; the wherhandler took a breath before answering. “I…well, I’m tired, but I…haven’t really been sleeping well – um…nausea…and I…I don’t usually cry like this…” She was wringing her wrists, biting the inside of her cheeks. “Um…there’s been…morning sickness and…cravings, I guess – “ Funny, how it was almost embarrassing to admit it; what if it was false – ? “I – a month after – after Meisk Chased, was the last time – about…” She couldn’t think; Meira shook her head rapidly in an attempt to clear it. Zesa trilled quietly next to her ear, the gold firelizard’s anxiety clear as she glanced from Hers to R’wign and then back again at the brownweyrling’s questions; Meira swallowed again, and then nodded, slowly at first, and then with slightly more conviction. “Um…um, yes…okay…” Sitting down would be…nice. Better than this. Honestly, though – Meira hadn’t expected anything; she’d have told R’wign about it and then – just left again. For a moment, she didn’t move, and then Meira forced herself into motion, heading for the office; R’wign…would follow, wouldn’t he?

[glamourie]

The tears just made him feel guilty, and Meira’s words did nothing to support his mental wish that maybe - maybe her symptoms were simply off, maybe it was something else. He should’ve known better than to simply have false hope though, and… and each symptom she listed off made it more real in his mind, making him want very badly to throw up from anxiety. His stomach felt twisted into several unpleasant knots and he could just feel a burn in the back of his mind that was rapidly forming into a headache he was sure to remember for the rest of his life. Given that he felt like he could explode at any moment, it was entirely possible that said headache was only the beginning of his problems. Nausea. Mood swings. Fatigue. Morning sickness. Oh just lovely. Just lovely. If the last time she had her cycle was so long before, then -- then she was definitely… eleven seven days. Rapidly approaching second trimester, even. Oh by Faranth… he… was going to be a father? If she kept it…? Was she going to foster it? Or between? It wasn’t too late to do that if she wanted to… So many questions…

Rather than bombard her with them, R’wign bobbed his head and speed walked to catch up to Meira and walk beside her. He put himself between her and the gaze of the patients and infirmary staff, primarily so that no one else would see her tears, and as they passed, Ellie flicked to her wings and glided over to land on R’wign’s shoulder with a curious flute. When he reached the door, he gestured for Meira to move in, then followed her and closed it firmly behind him. He pulled the spare chair out for her to sit in and gestured to it vaguely before climbing on top of the desk, his legs folding beneath him, as though it were a perch specifically for him. He wanted to hug her… very badly. Her crying made him feel horrible. But… he didn’t know how Meira would take it, so instead he grabbed her hands and wound his fingers between hers… hopefully reassuringly.

“Sit down. Take a deep breath. Do you want me to get you some tea or something? A towel…?” For her eyes. He didn’t voice the end of the question. His mind was reeling, he felt like he’d been slapped, and it was taking a conscious effort not to launch into a full blown panic attack or show any of his nervousness outwardly. She was - she was barely more than a kid, and he was definitely not the pillar of responsibility, the idea of them being parents frightened him. He supposed since Meira came to him she was planning on keeping it, but… that was still a terrifying thought. “Here, relax. Try to calm down, okay…? Ellie, go get one of the drudges to bring some hot water, would you?” He turned his head to the fire lizard, who fluted cautiously and then disappeared between to do as instructed. Once she was gone, he turned back to Meira. “I’ve got some nice tea mixtures here, something’s bound to strike your fancy; if nothing else, you need to drink something… probably eat too, but - try to calm yourself down…?” So easily said. He didn’t feel calm, but he wasn’t the one in tears, either.

Checkoth’s mind brushed his again and he resisted the urge to sigh out loud. The brown was very curious; the idea of R’wign having a hatchling made him very happy and R’wign was not sure how to tell him that he may not be having one after all. Explaining everything to his overly rambunctious brown dragon struck him as one of the worst possible things he could spend a day doing. Not fun. Not fun at all.

“What do you -- I mean, do you know what you plan to do…?” It was probably worded oddly, that question, but he didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume his opinion meant anything. Women at Weyrs tended to be very strange about that, and the last thing he wanted was to make Meira feel pressured or uncomfortable. From the level of upset she was already displaying, he was sure anything he said would make it worse, but… he had to say something. He also wanted to fidget around, squirm, and he very badly wanted to go back to sleep and pretend the entire day didn’t happen. Not an option. “I guess there’s not a big rush yet, since… you’re only… eleven seven days along or so… depending on… well, I mean - I’m not - please don’t get angry with me, I’ve never - I don’t know how to have this discussion at all… I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, please stop crying…”

[Avu]

Zesa was very obviously fretting now; the gold could understand the upset – but she didn’t know how to fix it and she didn’t understand why – eggheavy was a good thing – it was; everyone liked it when females were eggheavy…the firelizard hummed encouragingly, rubbing her head along Meira’s jawline, wings spread to counter the impact of each step; her eyes whirled rapidly and flicked occasionally to R’wign: He should fix it, he made people feel better and he needed to fix Hers – Meira’s hand came up to stroke Zesa, and the gold butted her head against the girl’s fingers, falling silent; Meira had her head bowed, her other hand rubbing her eyelids, as she walked; she didn’t want to be seen crying, and that R’wign had placed himself – it looked deliberate, but even if it wasn’t – between her and the rows of patients and the Healers moving among them – well, she was grateful. Zesa’s concern was…nice, too, even if the gold didn’t get it.

Preceding R’wign into the Journeymen’s office, the wherhandler stopped a few steps in, head bowing again so she could wipe her eyes again, pressing her lips together nervously. It was embarrassing – that she was crying; Meira didn’t usually cry; she’d been honest enough when she’d said that – and she couldn’t stop; she was tired and wanted to curl up and she wanted to stop crying, but the tears kept coming; she blinked rapidly as Zesa left her shoulder in a slow glide to land neatly on top of one of the cabinets, trilling low in her throat as Meira obediently moved to take the chair R’wign offered her. It didn’t occur to her to do anything but obey the brownweyrling’s words; that he had taken her hands was noticed only vaguely, and it was comforting – better than if he’d panicked; she was panicking and she’d already suspected before; Meira inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She needed to stop; this was – this was ridiculous…

“I don’t need – it’s okay,” she stammered, shaking her head again; she didn’t want to be fussed over. Blinking, Meira couldn’t help sighing slightly; calm down – eat – drink; she didn’t think she’d be able to eat again, though; her throat felt very…thick, and she was still slightly nauseous. “I’m okay,” she repeated, automatically. “I don’t – I’m not hungry or anything – ” She really wasn’t, and she hadn’t come down to find him for that; she’d just wanted to tell him – and she hadn’t figured out anything yet; Weyr life was so different from Hold life, but some of the girls her age had families already, if she decided to keep the baby, but – pregnancy interfered with everything; Jermayan would – he’d have to deal with the Night Watch on his own (admittedly not hard, considering the small number of handlers), and…Meira kept her eyes shut for the moment, exhaling through her mouth. “I’m fine – I’m calm,” she said softly, after a moment, after she was sure she was sane.

R’wign’s discomfort was not lost upon her, and Meira shook her head rapidly; it wasn’t his fault – she didn’t blame him, and it wasn’t because of him that she was crying, she didn’t think. It was more the despair and confusion – the gravity of her decision; she’d never had to make such an important decision on her own without someone else’s input before, and – didn’t R’wign have any opinion? Her stomach dropped and Zesa reared onto her hind legs on the edge of the cabinet, both wings flapping in agitation; why wasn’t she fixed? “It’s not you – it’s not your fault; I don’t – I don’t know what to do, though…I never thought I’d – actually get…pregnant…” Mostly because she didn’t sleep around – but now that she was? What were her options, really? – she could get Meisk to take her between; that would be the easy way out, but the baby would…die. And she was a Healer; could she do that…? “Did you – did you have a preference…?”

She didn’t expect him to; it wasn’t like R’wign needed to have anything to do with the baby even if she did keep it, but – it’d be rude not to ask, wouldn’t it…?

[glamourie]

R’wign frowned as Meira broke into another series of “I’m okay”s. She obviously wasn’t. She looked miserable and… he was half-tempted to apologize profusely. She might take it badly, though, so he… didn’t. He just held her hands as best he could and tried to keep himself from falling into a pit of endless despair. He bowed his head slightly and was… very proud of himself for not breaking down into hysterical tears. Yet, anyway. As soon as Meira was out of sight, he wasn’t sure how he would react. He was… frightened. Extremely frightened. The idea of being a parent was a daunting one. He was not good with children at all. Babies tended to respond very poorly to him in his experience (most either cried or made faces) and he was always petrified he’d drop them or squeeze too tightly, hold too firmly and cause them pain. Right after Calerin was born, R’wign was even frightened that he’d hurt the child delivering him. The concept of actually being a parent was possibly the most frightening thing he’d ever heard… He was surely going to be bad at it. Very, very bad…

“Let me make you a cup of tea. Please? My mixtures really are good. I’ve got some that are sweet, some more on the bitter side… It’ll probably take the edge off some if you’ve got something warm to sip on, if nothing else,” R’wign insisted; he felt better having something to do, and usually when he was upset, something warm to drink help. Besides, he already sent Ellie to fetch a drudge. It would take a few moments for the water to heat, though, so R’wign gently released Meira’s hands and moved over to the desk before retrieving a handkerchief from one of the top drawers. Gingerly, he held it out to her, and gestured to her face with his other hand. It was silk; maybe it would make her eyes less sore than rubbing them on her hands…

Glancing up at Zesa, R’wign frowned apologetically. The gold was obviously upset, which only served to agitate him even more. He didn’t mean to hurt her. He didn’t. Nor did he mean to hurt Meira. However, he was spared from answering her as Meira asked if… if he had an opinion? His frown disappeared into a confused look. Why would he get a say? It wasn’t him carrying the child. He wasn’t the one who had to go through nine or so months of discomfort, and then push the child actually out. He didn’t have to deal with all the physical side effects. While he appreciated having his opinion asked, it seemed… unfair to try and tell her what to do. He didn’t even know what he wanted, which made the entire question that much harder. He’d never imagined being in the situation before…

“If it helps… I was pretty sure I wasn’t able --” He shook his head. “Marra and I were together three turns, nothing -- I always figured something was wrong with me.” He grinned weakly and bowed his head until another curl dangled in front of his face. “I haven’t - I never - I’ve never thought about… about ever having a child before. I mean, not seriously. It came up once with Marra as a ‘maybe some day’ thing but not something to consider seriously any time soon. I don’t know if I have any kind of preference…” He twitched slightly as scratching at the door drew his attention. A low mrrow from next to him alerted him to the cream-colored feline’s presence and she hopped up onto the table before climbing into his lap. Outside, the male must have gotten locked on one side of the door. Hmm. R’wign dropped his hands to stroke the creamy feline before glancing nervously up at Meira. “Almost to your second trimester… you have a lot of options still. I mean… I’m hold bred. I’m a really bad person to ask. Logically, you’ve got some time to decide on most of it. If you want to between you really can only do so in the next couple of weeks. Or you could keep it and foster the baby… since you’re so young. Or we could keep the baby together… I don’t have an opinion, really, except that I don’t know how much I’d like it if you did decide to between. Not after telling me… but it’s still your choice…”

[Avu]

Now that the news was out, Meira was very much aware of the fact that she felt even more nauseous than before: Telling someone, admitting it – made it much more real, a reality rather than a terrifying suspicion. She would have wrapped her arms around her stomach out of instinct had R’wign not been holding them; as it was, she’d pulled her legs up slightly, head bowed in a position that was almost curled up; she swallowed, sniffing slightly. Being a mother – she didn’t know – well, Savitri was only a few Turns older than she was, but the goldrider seemed to be keeping her baby. But she had a Weyrmate; she was ready for it; she wasn’t nocturnal – and Meira didn’t think she’d make a good mother anyway. She liked babies and children well enough, but not one of her own. She’d never so much as considered one of her own, and – she didn’t want to. Fostering, on the other hand…or just going between…her stomach tightened nauseatingly again; she was back to avoiding R’wign’s gaze; the wherhandler’s gaze had fallen blankly on the ground.

She almost refused the tea again out of habit – Meira didn’t want to bother R’wign more than she probably already had – but Zesa’s low trill caught her attention; the gold flicked her tail, eyes whirling rapidly. What if the tea would fix her and she wasn’t drinking it, what if she hurt more? The firelizard’s anxiety – and the sleepy, confused questioning from Meisk, who had apparently woken – made Meira’s throat tighten again; she cleared it before she nodded. “I…I guess – um, if it’s not too much trouble…” He was taking the news very, very well – better than Meira had honestly expected; how many times did one-night affairs courtesy of a lusty wher end up in pregnancy, really? As soon as R’wign let go of her hands, Meira dropped them to her lap, curling her fingers together nervously. The handkerchief was accepted with a murmured, instinctive thanks, and she pressed at her eyes with the silk, swallowing back the tightness in her throat again.

The wherhandler looked up as R’wign spoke, and she chuckled into the handkerchief – a very weak chuckle, but at least it was something positive. The customary exhaustion after crying seemed much more intense this time; Meira closed her eyes briefly. Maybe she’d actually be able to sleep after this…? The brownrider’s words made her smile slightly; having a Weyrmate made all the difference, apparently…the security of knowing that someone would actually raise the baby with you…? She sniffed, stifling the noise automatically with the handkerchief. “Well…at least now you know nothing’s wrong…” Somehow, she didn’t think that it was much of a consolation, but…neh. It was something, at least.

Her gaze fell eventually on the feline that presently sprang into R’wign’s lap; she was sleepy and the feline…at that point in time, Meira rather envied the feline. If she ever got pregnant, there wouldn’t be a question about what would happen: It just did. Second trimester. Meira tightened her grasp on the handkerchief, nodding numbly. Eleven seven-days…with four seven-days to a month. The brownweyrling’s conclusion made Meira shrug one shoulder weakly. She didn’t know how well she could cope with going between; even if she didn’t personally want the baby, it could be fostered as per R’wign’s suggestion, and that was – that was better than killing it, but then – what if there was a birth complication, or something – ? The wherhandler sank down in the chair, inhaling deeply to keep tears from breaking out again.

Zesa fluttered both wings in agitation again; the gold firelizard eyed the feline suspiciously for a moment before she took to wing, landing on top of R’wign’s right shoulder, one fore-claw resting lightly on the brownrider’s ear, to be closer to Hers (Meira didn’t seem to be the most stable of perches right then) – and only because of that proximity was the gold able to catch her murmur: “I was kind of hoping you’d have a definite opinion, but…I don’t know…I’ll have to think about it…”

[glamourie]

He really liked Zesa. If he hadn’t before, that low trill would’ve clinched it for him… but he’d liked her already. R’wign turned to offer the gold a grateful smile; whether she realized it or not, getting Meira to drink something and hopefully calm down meant more to him than his own feelings at the moment, most of which were being repressed. Not the most healthy way of dealing with a situation, no, but it was a lot better than full-blown panic, especially with Meira as upset as she was. He doubted the wherhandler would thank him for freaking out on her any more than he would have wanted to. He was very over-due for panicking, yes, but he could do that in private, where she wouldn’t see how upset he really was. Meira deserved someone to talk to who wasn’t in full-blown meltdown mode. Her acceptance of the tea gave him something to do, and he gently dislodged the feline from his lap, putting her on the desk top. She purred to him, and R’wign stroked her back once before leaning over to open one of the desk drawers. He pulled out several glass containers and then laid them out in front of him before tapping the tops with his finger.

“Yeah. Nothing’s wrong.” With him anyway. Meira’s laugh, even if it was quiet, reassured him some. “Not with you either, obviously. What’s the big idea, ovulating at such an inconvenient time, huh?” He reached over and tilted Meira’s chin up with one of his fingers again before smiling at her. “Your laughter’s much nicer than your tears, you know. You should do it more often. I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh before now…” Had he? Normally she was so closed off. Maybe pregnancy made her emotions come to the surface more? He wasn’t entirely sure he minded. Shy little Meira did have a sense of humor beneath it all. Reassuring.

The slight weight on his shoulder made R’wign turn to look at Zesa and he lifted one hand to stroke his index finger down her back gently before turning back to Meira. A slightly frustrated look went over his face before he could disguise it and he exhaled sharply before turning to address the gold fire lizard. “Is she always this indecisive?” Without waiting for a response of any kind, he turned to Meira and shook his head (careful not to dislodge Zesa in the process). “I can’t tell you what to do with your body. I can’t. It’s… I don’t… I’ve never even thought about having a child, Meira, not as more than a fleeting ‘maybe someday.’ More than that, I don’t know you, and I can’t possibly decide what’s right for you. You’re the one who has to carry the baby if you choose to keep it. You’re the one who will be sore after the birth. If you decide to raise it, you’re still the one who will have to feed it most of the time. You have to decide whether you want to keep the baby, and if you want to raise it, and from there we can work something out. It’s your choice, but if it helps, if you do decide to keep it, I will help you as much as I’m able…if you’re willing to let me. The decision isn’t mine to make.”

Outside the makeshift infirmary, a brown dragon landed on the ledge and crooned loud enough that even R’wign could hear it. Checkoth sprawled out and twitched both of his tails, his eyes whirling happy shades of blue. He was aware of R’wign’s discomfort, though he did not understand it at all; why would he be unhappy that he had a clutch…? It didn’t make sense. Dragons were always happy to be clutching, why weren’t humans? Only one way to find out. Checkoth rolled over onto his side, crooned… and then decided to talk to Meira directly. R’wign wasn’t making any sense at all.

Hello, wherhandler! Congratulations on having a clutch soon! Oblivious to the fact that Meira was obviously upset, Checkoth continued, I guess that makes you a queen, right? Queen human, since you’re clutching. Do human babies come out knowing their names? I heard they don’t. If that’s true, can I help name the baby? Because I’ve always wanted to name something and R’wignmine wouldn’t let me name the Elliegold. Please, wherhandlerMeira? If excitement was possible to bottle, Checkoth could have had an industry in it; he was quite obviously delighted from the news. There was never anything bad about clutching. Good things always came of clutches. See the new weyrlings for examples!

[Avu]

She wasn’t really sure if she even wanted tea or not when she’d accepted the offer, but Zesa seemed to think that would help the hurt. Quite possibly, the firelizard was right, even if she didn’t quite realize it – hot tea would help. Maybe. Meira didn’t want to cry – she didn’t like the helplessness at all – but it wasn’t something she had much control over, right now. At least she wasn’t actually weeping anymore, even if she did have to blink occasionally to keep back fresh tears that seemed determined to emerge. The wherhandler had dropped her arms to her lap, the handkerchief crumpled in one hand as she watched R’wign. She was tired – Meira would have offered to help save for that; now that she’d told the brownrider, she really wanted to go to sleep. R’wign’s words made her raise her chin slightly to look at him, a smile that was almost wry curving up one side of her mouth. Great timing…well, to be honest, she didn’t think it was possible to get accidentally pregnant at anytime but an inconvenient time – that was the ‘accidentally’ part, wasn’t it?

His finger under her chin again made her actually tilt her face upwards, and R’wign’s statement drew a slight, almost automatic flush to her cheeks; she wasn’t used to compliments at all – Meisk and Zesa didn’t count. The queen gave a slightly amused twitter as she picked up the thought, and Meisk seemed to have fallen back into a doze again – which left Meira to consider how often she’d laughed around R’wign herself; she’d never really noticed…but probably, he was right; Meira didn’t laugh a lot. “Thanks,” she said, nodding slightly against his finger. “I’ll…I’ll keep that in mind.” It didn’t seem like the main point at the moment; her stomach was still in knots – but it was nice, she supposed, that R’wign actually…noticed? She wouldn’t have expected anyone to…

The look of frustration did not go unnoticed; Meira swallowed, dropping her eyes guiltily again; the question, directed at Zesa, made her bite her lip, embarrassed, as she crumpled up the handkerchief silently in her hand. The firelizard didn’t seem at all fazed that she’d not been given ample opportunity to answer; she twittered her opinion anyway, though there was a note of confusion in the gold’s voice – she still didn’t see what was so bad; she’d clutch and then they’d Hatch and everything would be good, wouldn’t it…? Meira did manage to look up at R’wign while he spoke, pressing her lips together nervously; what if she didn’t know either? Holdbred girls had babies when they were her age, but – it was different, and – she made a slight noise in her throat – indecision; she really didn’t know – either way, she’d feel…different. Could she – she couldn’t just kill it; it seemed…very immoral to between, especially since she didn’t have to in order to complete her…duty; she didn’t have to fly Thread…

Zesa crooned, but the sound was all but inaudible, for that was the moment that Checkoth arrived; Meira turned her head around in surprise to look at the brown – who looked very, very happy. Happier than Meisk had been; the blue’s primary emotion had been confusion; he’d been under the impression that His was a blue and therefore incapable of clutching – but after due consideration, the blue had decided that she was like Zesa. She doubted that Meisk would want to take her between to abort the baby either…Checkoth’s voice in her mind made the wherhandler start visibly – and then the desire to laugh hysterically rose; swallowing it, Meira tilted her head curiously towards Checkoth. Had he just – he’d just decided for them, hadn’t he? “I…guess I’m keeping it, then,” she observed softly. She’d been leaning towards keeping the baby anyway; she could always foster it if she and R’wign couldn’t – couldn’t handle it – and Checkoth’s enthusiasm was contagious.

Flicking a slightly questioning glance towards both Zesa and R’wign, Meira swallowed before she addressed Checkoth, her words emphasized by Zesa’s approving whistle. “Um…thank you…and I…I guess we’ll have to see about the name. It’ll be…it’ll be a while before it’s due anyway…” She still wasn’t sure about the decision; anxiety was positively bubbling in the pit of her stomach and she felt like throwing up or just curling up and never waking up again – but there: It was a decision…

[glamourie]

R’wign smiled, hopefully reassuring; he wasn’t entirely sure how much of his nervousness was present on his face when he addressed the blue wherhandler, but he was doing his best to… bury it all. He didn’t want her feeling bad, or insecure, or what have you; he wanted her to relax. Not that it was easy, he supposed. Considering that her life was in as much - no, more - of an upheaval as his own, he didn’t entirely blame her for not being able to relax. But stressing didn’t solve anything, and the more that she let herself get upset, the worse it would become. At least, that was his experience. He was saved from having to reply to anything Meira said by a knock on the door of the office and R’wign hopped up (careful, so as not to dislodge Zesa) and walked to it before nodding his gratitude to the drudge. His collection of fire lizards all flew in the opened door, and Ellie went to land on his shoulder… only to find it occupied. Puzzled, the gold fluted to Zesa, and then delicately landed on the top of the desk. R’wign, meanwhile, moved to the desk top and worked to get out the tea leaves, strainers, and started working at preparing the warm substance. Checkoth’s presence on the ledge behind him was barely noted… until Meira spoke again.

What did you say?

Checkoth explained what he’d said to Meira to his rider as he crooned pleasantly to the girl and crawled up as close as he could get. The office was set up adjacent to the makeshift-infirmary, with a weyrledge for visitors. It was more than large enough to house an average-sized brown dragon (as it was designed for a queen), and from his position he could see Meira and R’wign easily… but not come close enough to be in contact with them. A pity, it was, because he very badly wanted to crawl over and lick her. The wherhandler was going to clutch. It was good news! Why did humans leak out of their eyes over good news? He didn’t understand it at all.

Flushing slightly in embarrassment (he hadn’t realized how excited Checkoth really was), R’wign squirmed. But he didn’t apologize. He would never apologize for Checkoth being who he was. People could learn to deal with it and… well, Meira would need to learn to accept the brown’s enthusiasm from the sounds of things, because she was going to end up around him more than the average wherhandler. He did glance toward the brown with a warning look and Checkoth ducked his head before offering Meira another sweet rumble, quite clearly affectionate. If there was any doubt, the rapid blue whirl in his eyes would have made his feelings clear. R’wign twitched slightly at the dragon, and then smiled despite himself; silly though Checkoth was, he was R’wign’s mindmate. For better or for worse.

“We’ve -- we’ve got a lot of time, you know. To think things through,” he said, then glanced back at Meira. Carefully, he held out the tea cup. It was cream-flavored, spiced with something akin to cinnamon for just enough scent to be alluring; he wasn’t kidding when he said he was good at making unique flavored tea. “You don’t have to… to do what he says. He’s very excited, but he’s still - well, I mean. Don’t feel pressured by Checkoth, please.” He shot the dragon a warning look, and Checkoth recoiled slightly, but did not completely back away. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, thank you. “Do you -- names aside, do you know what you’d… want to do? I mean, you’re usually awake at night, I’m usually awake during the day… I don’t know how we’d-- what we’d do for who the baby stayed with when. That is, if you want me to help… I’m not pushing--here, tea…”

[Avu]

Knock. Meira jumped despite herself, startled; she was having a hard time keeping her mind off of the life that was growing inside of her, and that made her want to panic – she didn’t seem to have room in her mind for anything else, sad though that sounded. Zesa twittered quietly, the gold firelizard peering at Hers anxiously before she tightened her tail around R’wign’s neck instinctively as her perch moved. Meira turned in the seat after passing the crumpled handkerchief over her eyes again as the door opened to let R’wign’s fair of firelizards into the room, followed by a Drudge, bringing hot water per R’wign’s request; Meira dropped her gaze from the Drudge’s curious gaze, biting her lip slightly even as Zesa chirped in surprise as Ellie made to land on R’wign’s shoulder; the gold’s question was answered with an apologetic croon from the older firelizard, and Zesa took off in a flutter of wings, hovering before she swooped down to land on the chair arm and then hopped into Meira’s lap, humming reassuringly and nudging the wherhandler’s hand with her head.

Now that she’d decided, everything would be just fine. Zesa knew: she’d clutched before, she had; she’d take care of Hers, would the gold – see if she didn’t. Her wings flared emphatically, and her hum became an encouraging croon as Meira stroked her absently. The wherhandler’s gaze was on Checkoth, a small smile curving her mouth upwards. She’d always liked Checkoth – he’d been nice enough to call for the Weyr when Zesa’s first clutch had been Hatching, and Zesa liked him, too. Whether it was because he was R’wign’s and therefore Collision and Hazard were linked to him and she liked her offspring by default or otherwise, Meira wasn’t sure. Either way, his enthusiasm when it came to the baby was…well, it was sweet, she supposed; were all dragons like that? Meisk couldn’t quite figure out what was so wrong with her being pregnant either – and Zesa didn’t understand why it was bad – hmm. She’d never been aware that Checkoth liked her at all, though; his rumble surprised her; Meira blinked and then smiled slightly at Checkoth.

R’wign speaking made Meira look up, and she hesitated before Zesa’s nudge on her palm made her reach up to take the cup of tea from R’wign, curling her fingers around the cup and curling up in the chair as she murmured an automatic thank-you to the brownweyrling. Zesa slid down into the crevice formed by stomach and legs, the gold firelizard’s eyes fixed on Hers, eyes whirling rapidly. She had to drink it, she had to drink it – it would make the hurt go away and she could stop crying. Obediently, Meira sipped the tea – which actually did help. It stopped her from trembling, anyway – something she hadn’t even been aware of doing till it stopped, and she drank again without thinking about it before she stopped to actually consider what R’wign had been saying. One finger stroked Zesa’s head, tracing the firelizard’s ridges as she bit her lip slightly.

She wasn’t really agreeing with Checkoth just to indulge him – she was agreeing with him because he’d actually given her a solid opinion – which was more than R’wign had, or even she herself had. She’d been leaning towards keeping the baby anyway – see how much trouble it was, and then see…it wasn’t like there was a set age for fostering, after all…“Checkoth’s okay,” she answered. “I mean…well, it’s nice to know his opinion, anyway…“Um…I…I’d really like help, if I kept the baby, and…I don’t know; I wouldn’t mind adjusting my schedule a bit.” Meisk didn’t absolutely have to see her awake every minute he was; if she stayed up half the night and half the day, she’d be able to stay with Zesa more, too – the gold didn’t approve of the nocturnal idea, since she couldn’t see properly at night. And…if she did keep the baby, she’d rather it be raised to be diurnal.

[glamourie]

Ellie cocked her head to the side and fluted gratefully at Zesa. She didn’t mind sharing her perch, no no; she always had to share Hers, because he attracted her kind somehow, but she would prefer to have perched on him herself, yes. Typically if they were in the same room, she always found a place on his person to sit, and Hers was upset… though not acting like it. How puzzling. Fluttering over to R’wign’s shoulder, Ellie took up the position Zesa abandoned, her tail wrapping sinuously around the brown weyrlingrider’s neck. Her head moved down to nudge him along the jaw and she chirped inquisitively to Zesa; did she know why Hers was so nervous? So silly; he had no reason to be nervous, didn’t he know she’d keep him safe from everything? So would the furry thing; it loved him and only him, too… What was so wrong that Hers was so upset? Her wings ruffled at her sides and she pressed herself against R’wign’s jaw, her eyes whirling her worry.

At that exact moment, a little gray blob of fur put one paw on Meira’s thigh. Monster, the larger of R’wign’s two kittens, was let in by the drudge upon the door opening. He looked up at the wherhandler, gave a curious mrrow, and then leapt into her lap next to Zesa before prancing back and forth to rub his entire body on the girl’s chest. His tail stuck straight in the air from pride and he circled back and forth, purring so loudly that his entire body vibrated from the movement. Periodically, he even rubbed against the gold fire lizard. He was good at identifying when people were upset, he was, and his sister was there to watch over their silly-one, so he would take care of trying to watch over the Not-Theirs. Ooh, but she had something… Monster leaned forward to sniff at the glass Meira held and then turned his head up to look at her with a quiet meow. What was the smelly stuff? Not water, ick! It didn’t even smell good--!

“He’s extremely excited,” R’wign admitted with a slightly embarrassed flush, before eying Monster. The feline looked at him for a moment, then leaned over and actually started licking Zesa’s head, in an attempt to help groom the gold fire lizard. “He’s been asking me all these questions - I had no idea he would ask you when I couldn’t give him a satisfactory answer, but -- well, Check’s friendly. He likes you anyway.” Checkoth liked everybody, with special emphasis on those that R’wign favored; Meira was one of the healers which meant she was on that list by default. The fact that M’ta also favored Meira just clinched the deal as Behruth was Checkoth’s best friend… “I guess we’ll have to start thinking about who would keep the baby when… and… is it bad that my first thought is that the Woodcrafter stall had all sorts of furniture for babies…?” Crinkling his nose, R’wign waved at Monster. “Feel free to shove him down if he’s annoying you, but he’ll just get back up there and bother you and Zesa more. Thank Lennae for that one.”

Maybe he could steal some furniture from the Creche? They wouldn’t notice if one cradle and crib went missing. Or he could ask Ka’rys. The bronze rider was surprisingly good at building things, to R’wign’s great surprise (and amusement). What all would they even begin to need? Well, crib was obvious for bed… and… blankets… He had a large collection of blankets, were any of them suitable to babies? Who could he ask? K’lir. He’d know. He had a baby. Or Ka’rys, but that involved actually being around Savitri and he was pretty sure he didn’t want to be around her outside of the infirmary. The gold rider just touched on all of R’wign’s nerves. She was so uptight… all the time. Hnn..

“I can try staying up later, if it helps, so you have some time to yourself, too… if you want. I mean… I don’t…” R’wign frowned and reached one hand up to stroke Ellie; the gold fluted pleasantly to him, while Checkoth crooned reassuringly. Heh. Mob of things trying to calm him down. Perfect. “I don’t know -- I guess we should consider living arrangements, what all I need to be stealing from the Creche or bullying someone into making… but we’ve got time, and you look exhausted. Am I going to have to sedate you to make you sleep?”

[Avu]

She hadn’t meant to take Ellie’s perch, she hadn’t – Zesa dropped her head apologetically even as she hummed encouragingly at Hers. She might have apologized more vocally, but she didn’t want to stop the humming; it was working – or at least, it might be, and she didn’t want to risk anything – MeiraHers was drinking the tea-stuff, and it was working…as soon as the gold decided Hers had definitely stopped crying, she chirruped to Ellie, turning to nudge Meira in the stomach gently and then look back up at Ellie, offering images of eggs – her own clutch, Ellie’s previous one – see? Hers was eggheavy, she was – but she didn’t know why it made them unhappy, either. Or nervous; to be eggheavy was a good thing…wasn’t it? Meisk thought so; she thought so, and Hers had been encouraging when she was eggheavy, but now…right now, she wasn’t happy. Humans, Zesa decided solemnly, were funny – she loved them, but they were very funny; they didn’t seem to recognize a good thing when they had it…hmm –

Feline! Zesa interrupted her thoughts to chirrup a surprised warning as Monster joined her on Meira’s lap; the wherhandler herself didn’t outwardly react except to shift to make the feline a little more comfortable, the hand that held the tea settling on the arm of the chair just in case. He was…very friendly, wasn’t he? Meira half-smiled weakly at the feline’s rubbing against her, setting the handkerchief down next to her and stroking Monster with that hand. “Hi,” she commented to the feline absently; she talked to Zesa and it didn’t occur to her to not talk to the feline as if he were every bit as intelligent as the firelizard queen. Said queen was inspecting the feline curiously; Zesa didn’t actually poke at Monster, but it was a close thing, especially when the feline rubbed against her; what was he doing…? Fluffy – very fluffy, he was – oh, wait…he couldn’t smell the tea-stuff; he wouldn’t drink it, would he…? Apparently not; good: Hers needed it. The firelizard’s preoccupation with the feline wasn’t noticed as Meira quirked one eyebrow at Monster’s meow, informing him quietly, “It’s tea.”

R’wign’s words were punctuated by a surprised squeak from Zesa as the feline began to groom her head; the firelizard squirmed slightly, and then raised her head to nuzzle Monster curiously; didn’t he know she didn’t have fur? Silencing the queen with a slight touch along her back, Meira glanced towards Checkoth, smiling slightly at the brown. “That’s nice to know,” she commented softly. She’d always been under the impression that dragons hated to talk to people who weren’t Theirs, too. Hmm. But – back to baby, and – furniture? Furniture. Oh. Right. Meira dropped her head; now her smile was…very much self-deprecating. Of course she’d figure out after the Gather. Of course. “He’s okay,” she assured him, glancing down at Monster. “He’s sweet…and um…well, Woodcrafters’ stall wasn’t the first thing I thought of, but…yeah.” Wow. When would the next Gather be, anyway? And how much money would she even have – ? Wherhandlers didn’t get much of an allowance…and she wasn’t a Journeywoman yet, so she didn’t get paid for the Infirmary, either – and she didn’t want to make R’wign pay for everything.

Wait, what – time to herself? She’d been under the impression that being a parent – a mother especially – was…basically being constantly there for the baby, just in case something bad happened, or the baby needed something. “I don’t know…I guess it just kind of…depends…” Meira wasn’t even sure exactly what it depended on, but trying to think about when she ought to be sleeping only served to remind her that she very much needed sleep right now. And as for furniture, the only thing she could really think of that she didn’t already have? A crib. Or a cradle – whichever; she wasn’t sure, but they were more or less interchangeable, weren’t they? And – oh. Did she really look that exhausted? Meira crinkled her nose slightly, passing her hand over her face. “Mm. No…I think I’ll be going to sleep as soon as I get back to my room.” Zesa fluted emphatically from her lap, the gold poking her head into Meira’s palm, and the wherhandler obediently sipped at the tea again, flicking a slightly amused glance down at the gold. “I…I guess we’ll figure out the rest later, then?”

Not that they’d really planned out a great deal, but just breaking the news was pretty…explosive.