Just a Nap (tags R'wign)

[Requiem]

She'd only meant to rest her eyes for a few seconds. The woman out on the ledge leading into the infirmary was a common sight for anyone who frequented it - spent the whole of the day working in that place, after all. Still, you'd think that someone might find it a little odd that she'd been out longer on her break than she usually was. (Yes, she'd actually started taking breaks instead of just nibbling on food in between shuffling papers and limping her way through the rooms to check up on things.)

Phremath rumbled pleasantly, not nudging anyone. She was of the opinion that if Hers was tired, she should sleep. Made sense, right? The green was playing at the base of the waterfall, presently. Actually, she'd taken to letting the spray hit her, instead of standing directly under, periodically flapping her wings to make the droplets sparkle. For once, Lust had joined her, hissing whenever a water droplet landed on him where he sunned on a rock not far away. His color was...dull. Phremath crooned to him, attempting to get the male to come play with her, but he just coiled tighter. Not really interested.

The dragonhealer sat in a spread of food that she'd never be able to finish on her own, but it was a matter of satisfying cravings, and most everything had been touched - sometimes in rather odd combinations. Her position was...odd. One leg drawn up, the other coiled in front of her, but it was the most comfortable she'd been able to find. (This tended to change hourly, what was comfortable and what wasn't.)

Stranger still, though, was the way she was draped over her leg, one cheek pressed into the side of her knee, her thigh supporting her torso. Her arms dragged the ground on either side and she was snoring quietly, an occasional twitch of the fingers or spasm of the muscles in her shoulders making it clear she was just asleep. She mumbled something incoherent, nuzzling her own thigh and flattening even more against her leg, such that the tip of her braid brushed the ground.

[glamourie]

Siiigh. Such a waste of food; did she not realize that? Or just not care?

It could be argued that R’wign didn’t care much for food, either; the healer ate, yes, when he was reminded but he otherwise had a tendency to forget. His problem was that food always got procrastinated when he became busy, and R’wign was bored any time he wasn’t busy (or sleeping). The end result was that R’wign didn’t eat as much as he should have – perhaps. Though he certainly was far from starved. Two meals a day instead of three, usually. M’ta kept him eating when he was at the infirmary (a fact he was grateful for, since he knew very well what his own weaknesses were). That he was mildly perturbed by the spread on the weyrledge would have surprised many – though it had less to do with the wasted food and more to do with the fact that it was the infirmary where Kalierre had decided to make her banquet.

Crinkling his nose, R’wign stalked over to the ledge of the infirmary. He tucked the leatherbound journal he’d been scribbling in underneath one arm and leaned down to pick up a piece of celery from one of the plates before biting into it; fortunately, the air was cool enough that the food didn’t go bad near instantly or he likely would have been quite unhappy. As it was, he dropped down to a sitting position, heedless of the fact that Kali had clearly eaten bits and pieces of everything around her, and decided to help himself. It wasn’t as if she was going to eat any of it. Not while asleep anyway. The celery remained firmly in his mouth and he put the journal down on the ground before moving to sit on his knees, looking around at each of the plates in thought. He wasn’t really a finicky eater (though he wouldn’t touch seafood) so most everything there appealed. What to munch on first? He grabbed a sliver of meat, still warm, and held it in one hand; the other moved to break the celery with an audible crunch. Nom.

Was he eating loud? Perhaps. R’wign didn’t know – or care. If Kalierre was expecting total silence, she should have napped somewhere more convenient, like her office. Besides, celery was known for being crunchy. It was better when it snapped, thanks.

One hand came up to brush his hair from his face. R’wign often spent most of his days in the infirmary. Though he’d gotten better about going home earlier (he tried to leave in time to eat dinner – mainly because he strongly suspected M’ta wasn’t above showing up with a second meal to yell at him), the afternoon to early evening hours were usually spent micromanaging. He was obsessive, self-confessed, and he didn’t trust anyone but Kalierre… and Meira, to a smaller extent. The younger healer was skilled, but so skittish that it was hard to truly trust her. Raw talent she had, but the drive… meh. He didn’t really know if he was a good person to judge that though, seeing as he tended to just take his beatings (so to speak). At least he’d argue if he thought he was right. His eyes narrowed on the sleeping dragonhealer, the celery stick cracking in his mouth, before he gave a slight nod and swallowed. Then he poked the meat into his mouth all at once, stood up and walked back into the infirmary.

With little regard for the busy apprentices (he’d already popped orders at them) R’wign moved over to one of the closets and removed a blanket from the top shelf. Then he spun on his heel and went back to Kalierre’s side to drape it over her loosely, his head cocked to the side just slightly. The short black strands obscured his face, unintentionally; he wasn’t used to his hair being cropped so short (he usually wore it tied back). Once he tucked the blanket around her, R’wign flopped back down and looked over the spread for anything else he wanted to eat.

ShortyYours feeds you, Checkoth commented from his spot on his own weyrledge, his two tails dangling over the side. His head swiveled around to look at R’wign anxiously. How can you still be hungry? If he had any idea how odd it was to refer to M’ta as R’wign’s, he gave no indication. Odds were, it didn’t even dawn on Checkoth as unusual. He was R’wign’s, after all. And you make fun of me having two stomachs. Honestly.

[Requiem]

Mmm. What? Kalierre stirred beneath the warmth of the blanket, causing part of it to slide off her. She protested with a quiet whine, groping for the fallen edge. There. A contented sigh. Now, though, she was partially awake, and that was enough to bring the perpetual pain back into sharp focus. It was the worst at night - thus her exhaustion - though it was getting to the point of nearly unbearable constantly now. Probably should talk to Asharra, but she already knew what would be said. That this pregnancy wasn't a good idea, that it was debatable whether or not her pelvis could handle that sort of pressure. Just over four months. She pushed that from her mind. One day at a time. It was surprisingly easy to live that narrowly.

It slowly occured to her that someone must have brought this blanket out to her, and once she realized that she also noticed the sound of rustling nearby. Kalierre opened one eye, slitted against the sunlight, to see who that someone might be, her legs sliding straight out in front of her in a graceless sprawl that relieved some of the ache of being in one position for so long. A hand came up to hold the blanket in place. (No, it wasn't cold, but for some reason the feel of it was comforting, and she was loathe to give that up just yet.

"R'wign." Groggy voice. Out here, eating her food. She might have been annoyed if she was at all hungry, but as it stood...no. Rubbing at her face, she tucked the strands that had pulled free of her braid behind her ears, slow to waken. "What time is it?" Her limbs felt leaden. With a soft snort, she added, "And yes, feel free to eat whatever you want. Thief." Her light tone made it clear she wasn't annoyed at the blanket-bearer. It never occured to her to think that someone else might have done that. He was here. He was R'wign. R'wign was the blanket king. Natural logical progression right?

She didn't even notice that she was rubbing at her hip with her free hand. Anyone else, she might have scolded for leaving the infirmary when he was supposed to be running the shift in her absence, but R'wign was every bit as neurotic about things as she was. It never crossed her mind to even so much as ask if things were being taken care of while they both were out on the ledge. "So I suppose you caught me slacking, huh?" she questioned, with just a hint of self-consciousness entering into the teasing tone. Kalierre glanced sidelong at R'wign. That hair was going to take some getting used to, most definitely.

[glamourie]

Ah, shards, he’d woken her. R’wign didn’t move from his spot and instead deliberately poked the celery stick into his mouth, finishing it off before licking his fingers exaggeratedly. He didn’t look over at Kalierre, but he didn’t need to: she was on his good side and he paid a ridiculous amount of attention to detail with what he could see. It wasn’t until she spoke that R’wign outwardly responded to the fact that she was awake – namely because he knew that when he woke up, he could usually go back to sleep if no one spoke to him. (The second someone started speaking to him, it was over – he was awake completely, nothing for it.) At her words (or more specifically, his name), R’wign turned and cocked his head to the side. His eye flicked to the sky and he gruffly shrugged, “It’s just before dinner time, I expect. I don’t know what time it is exactly, I never pay attention to that.” He mostly just judged by how light it was outside and when it was pitch black, he scurried back to his weyr to bathe and sleep. Or bother M’ta. (Usually he settled for bothering M’ta, actually.) “You’ve been out here for awhile, though. You looked cold.”

He didn’t comment on the subject of food. As far as R’wign was concerned, it was left on the ledge so it was obviously fair game and at least he had the decency to wait until she was asleep to walk over and start helping himself. Really. It wasn’t as if R’wign usually ate a lot, either – he typically only ate three or four bites of everything he was brought (M’ta usually brought an impressive spread, too). The “thief” comments were ignored; if she really cared, she wouldn’t have left the vast array of food out for anyone to help themselves. Logic at its finest. Although, it was likely that R’wign would’ve stolen food even if he had no logic to explain it – it looked appetizing, and he didn’t get hungry all that often (his mind was usually too busy on other things).

“I don’t call resting slacking when you clearly need it,” he pointed out smoothly before eying the plates of food. What to steal next. Most of it looked really good, ironically. “You should probably keep blankets around or something, though. It’s getting cooler, and this canyon traps the cold air better. You don’t want to get sick.” She couldn’t afford to get sick, but R’wign was considerate enough not to point that out. Although, he was sure that Kalierre knew well enough without his help: she had to know that sitting out on the ledge when it was the middle of fall wasn’t the wisest idea. So he was really just rambling for the sake of rambling – sometimes he felt like trying to talk to a brick wall where Kali was concerned. Sometimes. “You should go back to your weyr to rest, Kali. It’s been a quiet day, but that doesn’t guarantee that it will stay quiet. There’s a good chance it’ll get loud this afternoon and the last thing you need is to stress yourself out.” A playful sort of smile passed over his face as the healer turned to sit on his knees, looking right at Kalierre. “I assure you, I’m more than capable of handling the infirmary while you’re away. Rumor has it I can even tie my shoes by myself. I know, it’s a miracle, but I’m willing to prove it.”

It really hadn’t been a busy day – probably to R’wign’s good fortune, since he’d had a headache from the moment of waking up. Fall was rough on him, even though he never specified that. The fact that he had a headache was also why he wasn’t down at the river with Checkoth. Little known fact: R’wign was being… perhaps reckless wasn’t the right word, but he was trying to test the limits of how long he could hold his breath. After Wymeth’s flight, he’d deduced that he probably could hold his breath longer than he originally thought, and he was testing it out in the river with his dragon nearby to pull him out if he started floundering. Breathing practices. His ultimate goal was to see if he could fly between – he hadn’t tried. He’d just assumed after he got sick that he couldn’t (it was an assumption based in logic, but still). Being a useless dragonrider was tiring though and he was determined to at least try.

He hadn’t told anyone about that though, namely because it was a huge risk… and he was pretty sure he’d get yelled at.

“Did you sleep well at least?”

[Requiem]

So late? She'd slept much too long. Or not nearly enough, depending on how you looked at it. Sighing, the woman drew her legs back up to her chest, pulling the blanket tightly around her. Normally she'd be leaving right about now, letting the other healers handle the last few hours before the night shift. Not because that was what she wanted, but because she couldn't handle as many hours as she'd used to. Right now though? She really didn't want to go back to the weyr. A shiver that had nothing to do with temperature coursed down her spine.

Kalierre regarded R'wign in some amusement. Of course she'd intended to take a nap out on the ledge in the middle of lunch. Her nose wrinkled slightly, but she didn't argue with him. Yes, she needed the rest. No, it wasn't a good idea to take that rest out in the chill air. And no, it probably wasn't a good idea for her to mention that she couldn't sleep well at night and this was purely an accident; he was fussing enough as it was. Worried too much, that one. If she got sick...she got sick. Though she really never did. Kalierre knew herself to be hardy, even before spending most of her time around the sick and injured...there were some definite drawbacks to that, though. You ended up being the one hovering over them. And burying them. A wry, weary smile. She was in such a dark mood of late. Kalierre attempted to brighten up a little for R'wign.

"Yes, I think. Not as tired, anyway," she responded quietly. A flicker of genuine affection in the soft smile that followed. "I don't know...tying your boots is quite a feat, you know. Sure you don't want any help?" The smile turned rueful. "You'll probably have to ask the apprentices, though, or rest it right on my knee for me. It's a wonder I can tie my own boots some days. Here's a little clue for you: never get pregnant."

Tugging lightly on the end of her braid, she glanced out over the canyon. "It's too early to be leaving the infirmary mostly to you, R'wign," she stated seriously. "Soon enough I'll have to, and it gets stressful. You know that as much as I do. We might have changed locations, but not much else has changed much." The wind was beginning to pick up, Kalierre huddling into a tighter ball. Her eyes flicked toward him. "Since we have a moment...how are you doing these days? Never seem to have much time to talk to you about anything. Riaren seems to be doing well, from what I've seen of him. Adorable child."

[glamourie]

“I’m sure,” R’wign replied with a wry grin, but it faltered slightly. His head turned toward the canyon and the rush of water below before he shrugged. “No, I know you’re a control freak. You make me look sane. I’m quite impressed by that, by the way – for the longest time I thought I was the person in this infirmary with the most eccentricities, but you have topped me.” It was teasing. He didn’t mind Kalierre’s control-freak tendencies (most of the time); it kept the infirmary running smoothly. He was worried though that she was working herself too hard by staying at the infirmary – but R’wign fussed a lot over other people in his head, even if he didn’t do it as much outwardly. He knew better than to push Kali on it though. He wasn’t exactly the pillar of responsibility, especially when it came to how hard he worked himself. R’wign was a lot of things, but frequently a hypocrite wasn’t one of them. He tried hard to avoid that most of the time.

Her next questions caught him off guard enough that he visibly stared at her before shaking his head. R’wign chose to respond to the one about Riaren first – it was more comfortable to him. A lot more, actually. R’wign hated talking about himself, and he liked to talk about Riaren. The baby made him happy.

“He’s very quiet, Riaren – but he mimics me, so I’m not sure how long that is going to last.” Loud wasn’t exactly a word that accurately fit R’wign either though. He just wasn’t shy or self-contained in much; he talked plenty. He just was soft-spoken about it, and he didn’t see a reason to raise his voice most of the time. “It’s really funny – I’ll make faces, or exaggerated hand motions and it’s obvious he’s trying to do the same thing. I don’t know how much he does that with Meira – actually, I should ask her – but it’s funny to watch him do it with me. He likes bright colors, music, all of my firelizards, Meira’s salamandyr and I think he’s enthralled with Jingth, Checkoth and Behruth.” Pausing, R’wign smiled and tilted his head. “He’s getting old enough where he recognizes my voice so he always turns when he hears me – it’s neat. I’m still scared to death of him though.” Not, technically, of Riaren – R’wign was more frightened that he’d fail his child somehow and be a bad parent. It wasn’t going away, but at least he wasn’t petrified when he held the baby anymore. Progress.

As for how he was…? R’wign fidgeted awkwardly, looking over the canyon before biting his lip. The answer was, he didn’t know. He felt good, but…

“You love K’von, right?” It was probably an out of the blue question. If he asked it of anyone but Kalierre, it might’ve sounded awkward too but they were past the formalities of wondering if there was anything there – at least, he hoped. If not, well, that was her problem. He continued without giving Kalierre a chance to answer, “How did you first know you were in love…?” That question, coming from someone who was in a relationship for three turns, was probably very strange. R’wign didn’t even begin to try to explain why. He hadn’t loved Marra. He knew that in retrospect – maybe even at the time, too. He stayed with her out of devotion, not love, and that in itself bugged him. How was he supposed to know when he actually did fall in love? Was there something that would tell him? Some sign that would make it clear? He didn’t know who else to ask – Ka’rys? Ka’rys was in and of itself a ludicrous idea, the bronzerider would look at him funny and give some unhelpful answer. Not that he was sure Kali could give one that would be any better, but she was at least a viable option to ask.

One hand came up to muss his hair – he was still getting used to the length. Aside from a brief period before his Impression, R’wign had always worn his hair really long. It was short in comparison, and he couldn’t tie it back in a runner tail. That was a new experience. “Like, how did you first realize? What made you know?”

[Requiem]

Kalierre listened raptly to his description of Riaren, a small smile touching her lips. The woman did actually like children...despite all appearances to the contrary. Most didn't know that she'd looked after Miguel for Laurie on occasion - when she wasn't too busy. An almost laughable concept, that, but then - for awhile there she hadn't had a weyrmate to take up her time. Couldn't help but wonder how her own babe would turn out. Miguel was adorable and well-behaved, and Riaren seemed to be much the same. (She wasn't naive; she knew this tended to be unusual.) R'wign clearly adored his son. A brow rose at his last comment, but he was already plowing on and Kalierre didn't tend to pry. Most of the time it simply wasn't worth the effort. And when it actually was? The person in question tended to be someone she respected too much to pry at.

She blinked openly at him. Of course she loved K'von, but where was that coming fr-? Ah. The woman ducked her head, hiding a smile behind her arm. She couldn't help it. R'wign didn't often strike her as young, but that question definitely seemed that way. It was adorable in its fashion, really. Of course, once she got past the urge to grin at him, there was the other issue. Namely, how do you answer a question like that? How had she known she was in love with K'von? There were all these things that people usually said, but she didn't feel most of that, and she knew she loved the brownrider. Kalierre at least owed R'wign the attempt. Though...she definitely was curious as to who the healer thought he might be in love with.

"Hm. You couldn't start out with an easy one?" The woman rested her head on her knees and looked out over the ledge. "Well, it's not a feeling. Too many people confuse attraction with love. Even strong attraction is just...attraction." She glanced at him, wondering if this was helping at all. Kalierre didn't want to deflate him or anything, of course, but she didn't think that statement would. He'd been with Marra. Clearly, he felt he hadn't loved her. Just as clearly, how he regarded this person was different.

"They make you act differently than other people. You don't like it when they're upset, even if you could care less if someone else was having issues over something more important. Their opinion means a lot. You want them to know everything about you, but are afraid at the same time that if they do they won't like you anymore. Sex is good, but just being close is better. Holding and being held. You can sit together without talking and both be content."

Dragging the toes of her good leg across the ledge, her eyes had taken on a distant look. "Decisions that you would never make otherwise...you make because you know that's what they would want. No one can make you as happy. Or as upset. They can say things that would never get under your skin if it came from anyone else. Love isn't comfortable. It's terrifying and exhilarating, but mostly terrifying." Then she flashed him a small smile. "But if you really are in love, R'wign, and the other person loves you, eventually it will get more comfortable. Eventually you'll learn to trust each other...and understand each other. It's hard in the beginning, though. And there will be many fights. Misunderstandings. Hurt feelings."

[glamourie]

A playful little smile passed over R’wign’s face, saying without words his answer – no, he didn’t ask easy questions usually. He had other motives for asking that one though, and R’wign did not handle a lack of understanding very well. He was a proud person – too proud to ask for help – but it had occurred to him that something was wrong when he didn’t take Marra’s death as hard as he had some others (namely, Religna). His problem with her death was almost more that he felt he should’ve died with her – and it wasn’t out of devotion or romanticism that he came to that conclusion, it was the knowledge that a single day forward or backward, he would’ve. Part of him even wondered if she was targeted because of him, and since she was gone he could never ask – or apologize for not being there. He viewed Marra as a friend, not his significant other. Friend with benefits. It was very strange, and he’d felt guilty for a very long time – even before she died. Her death compounded that. It wasn’t so much that he found himself responsible for her dying, but more that she’d died believing a lie – and he knew that was his fault. He knew that. He’d been too cowardly to tell her the truth, because… because of what happened with her…

“I didn’t love Marra,” R’wign said; he didn’t look at Kalierre as he spoke, instead resting his chin on his knees. “I don’t… wonder about that.” The explanations were somewhat helpful, but… “You don’t spend your time being attracted to multiple other people when you’re in love, at least I don’t think you do – and I… I don’t know. I cared about her, she was a friend but – I didn’t love her. I didn’t even think that I did. Not since I was seventeen. And I couldn’t tell her that. It would… destroy her.” His legs came closer to his chest – an unconscious sign of his insecurity. “When she went to Blossom Hold, I was… miserable. Extremely upset. I was convinced that I’d never be happy again, but I got through it and I was okay. I was fine without her. She… wasn’t. Wasn’t fine without me. She… went to the Master Harper to get transferred back. And had to…” He didn’t elaborate; he didn’t need to. Kalierre was northern and could probably use her imagination to fill in the blanks. “I couldn’t leave her. Not after that. But I didn’t love her – not when she came back. I knew I didn’t. I knew it was just – just that fleeting first teenage attraction, infatuation – and I spent… turns… hiding that. I think I wanted to love her, and I couldn’t. I haven’t told anyone that before.”

He’d considered telling M’ta, at one point. R’wign actually did. But he wasn’t sure how to say that – how to even bring it up. Part of him felt better though for having told someone. Anyone. He didn’t like keeping things like that secret, and he’d kept that to himself for Turns. Marra couldn’t have ever found out, so while she was alive it had to remain quiet. Plain and simple.

Based on Kalierre’s explanation, was he in love? He didn’t know. His first thought was that maybe there was something wrong with him – because he tended to be… very… easy to work up. He was diplomatic enough not to tell her that (awkward much?) but it made him fidget just slightly too. His eye dropped down to his feet. “I don’t know if I’m in love or not.” He didn’t, really. A lot of what Kalierre said applied – point in question: the fact that he was actually making an effort to come home slightly earlier (baby steps, okay?) and trying to learn to defend himself better; he really was trying. The problem he ran into was: he didn’t like it when anyone he cared about was upset. Kali, Meira, Ka’rys, K’lir, Merridan – they were all his friends, and any of them upset bothered him. He wasn’t someone who was okay with his friends being upset at all. “I don’t – I… some of that applies to a lot of people. I don’t like seeing anyone I care about upset, and it’s pretty much equal. And I don’t like talking about myself with anyone for pretty much that reason.”

His mind went to the journal that he was putting together for M’ta’s turnday. Technically, it was all of the stories that he told Riaren, Kale and the children who came into the infirmary sick or hurt – but the reason he was writing it was so that M’ta could find out what his past was like without him having to explain it; he couldn’t talk about things. He just… couldn’t. It was actually a miracle that he was managing to talk to Kalierre. He didn’t really talk about things well.

“I’m scared of being a disappointment. A let down. I’m scared and I don’t trust myself, and I don’t like that feeling at all.”

[Requiem]

Kalierre listened to him quietly. To be perfectly truthful...she'd never really seen what the other healer had seen in Marra (what little she'd seen of the girl) anyway. So it wasn't particularly surprising that he didn't love the harper. Nor was it particularly surprising in general to Kalierre that anyone could be in a relationship with someone, even for quite awhile, and still not love them. The dragonhealer personally wasn't capable of living with someone she didn't love - it was her space and she didn't share it easily - but other people were not as neurotic about that sort of thing. She realized that.

A brow rose. She'd had to convince the MasterHarper, had she? That was certainly a trap if ever there was one. How did you tell someone who went through that for you...that they really shouldn't have bothered because you really don't care about them that much? You don't. Must have been miserable. Any normal person would feel guilty even if they did love the other, much less if they didn't. Kalierre didn't feel the need to comment, though. Everyone had their stories. Their secrets. Their shames. And no one seemed to share them with anyone for pity, or even sympathy most of the time. Just understanding. She nodded in silence.

Kalierre smiled softly at him. "You're asking the question, which interests me. A lot of people your age just assume they're in love because they feel these special feelings. Only after things get rough and they decide it's not worth it and move on - and either discover the same feelings again and again or actually do fall in love with someone - do they realize how mistaken they were." She puzzled over R'wign's words for a moment. "I guess the problem is that love isn't the same for everyone. You know? For me, love is being willing to share my home - which I've never shared with anyone - with someone else. It's being willing to back down from fights I normally wouldn't back down from and to let him win. It's making a decision that I wouldn't make for myself. I'm not romantic, and I'm not affectionate. Sex is next to meaningless to me. For me, that's love. For other people, it may not be.

"And some people have loved more than once. I'm sure if you asked them, they'd say it's not even the same from one relationship to the next. What every loving relationship requires is self-sacrifice and trust...beyond that, it can be made up of almost anything." The woman wasn't old, no. But she was observant, even if she didn't often show it. "You have to be able to trust that whoever you love won't shunt you aside just because you're not perfect. Because if you always fear that you'll be discovered, that your feelings will be a burden or, worse yet, disappoint and drive away, you'll never really be happy with them. You'll just always be afraid."

[glamourie]

Wrapping his arms around his legs, R’wign gave a slight headbob of acknowledgment. He didn’t know if he’d ever be sure –he didn’t generally trust his feelings. R’wign was very strange with reactions. If he were to be totally honest with himself, he tended to under react with everyone except M’ta. It was more normal to get casual apathy from R’wign than it was to get real emotions. M’ta had a gift for making him an emotional nutcase without trying. It was very strange and highly terrifying. R’wign usually had very good control over his emotions – smile, laugh, make other people laugh and feel nothing. That was how he reacted to everything. The attack on Selenitas… messed him up. He’d been cycling between extreme moods ever since. It was over a turn past, and he was still having nightmares, he still couldn’t handle looking in mirrors or seeing his reflection… he wasn’t okay, and it scared him to feel so many things at once. He didn’t really understand the feelings, so he tried to tack explanations to each of them – not very successfully, either. He tried to analyze his feelings and put them into a little box that he was comfortable with. M’ta managed to blow away any ability to understand himself that he had… and R’wign had no idea how to fix that. Or if he even wanted to, truth be told. It was kind of nice to not have to censor himself.

“You make it sound like I’m so young. I’m not that young. And I really hate it when you call me a kid,” R’wign said softly; there wasn’t any contempt or pouting in his voice though. He didn’t elaborate on why. If Kalierre hadn’t figured out by then that R’wign hated being viewed – and treated – as a child, she would probably scoff at the reasoning for it too. She had a gift for forgetting that his age didn’t necessarily reflect his experiences. It wasn’t a matter of childish “I’m not a baby” for R’wign; it was more an expectation of respect based on experiences… and he became a healing apprentice at the start of the wars. He remembered too well how insane they were and that was nothing a child should ever witness. So R’wign stopped being one – he stopped believing in all the things that kids believed, stopped expecting the best in people and his surroundings, and came to terms very young with the fact that people died. He hated it, though, and always would. No amount of age could change who he was inside.

It was tempting to make a quip about how grateful he was to be meaningless, but R’wign refrained; instead he shook his head and bit his lip.

“I don’t know what… what would make someone more special to me. I feel so insane lately. I feel like any second, I’m going to lose it, I’ll be done – no more R’wign, completely lost, completely insane. I’ve never felt so many things at once and now everything – everything – is hitting me so hard. Like Dorava’s little tantrum. It feels like... there was a time I wouldn’t have reacted, or cared, at all. Because she’s not worth caring about. I know she’s wrong and she’s ignorant and it bothered me – and it shouldn’t have because she doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s been like this since Marra and Religna’s deaths, one major thing after another, and I’ve gotten better about sitting and thinking things out for the most part – I feel with logic, at least. That’s how I’ve always been but then there’s other times, when we’re alone, and I just can’t. I can’t make myself feel anything that makes sense and it scares me, even when it is good feelings, because they come up out of nowhere, they’re there and I don’t know why. I don’t like not understanding.”

He honestly did think he was in love. It wasn’t sentimentality coming out. It wasn’t. He hated seeing M’ta upset so much – he felt like panicking. He’d stopped spending so much time in the infirmary in order to spend more time with him – something he’d never done for Marra. He was happiest just laying together, it made him feel safe, secure and wanted. All of that was good feelings. There was also terror though – what if he hurt him? What if he wasn’t capable of love, and he ended up hurting M’ta? Or worse, what if he was capable of love and still hurt him because he was… broken otherwise?

“I don’t want to hurt anyone else, Kalierre. I don’t. I’m tired of hurting people.”

[Requiem]

Kalierre just stared at R'wign blankly. Well, yes, of course he was young. So was she, really, though it was hard to feel that way when everyone at Selenitas seemed to be in their teens or early twenties. She didn't see what the problem was with being young...and she hadn't called him a kid...but Kalierre didn't feel like arguing on that front. It would do little good, for one thing. If R'wign was determined to feel like she was calling him a child - implication or otherwise - nothing she said was likely to change that. Kalierre had a habit of using little pet names like 'hun', 'boy' and 'kid,' when irritated or amused. She probably had said something like that at one point, even if she didn't mean it in the sense of 'you're young, naive and inexperienced so just leave this to the adults'. Which was, undoubtedly, how he probably would have taken it.

Kalierre frowned at R'wign mildly. Of course...things had been rather traumatic for the healer lately. Between the events of the siege, the role he was forced into afterwards, the deaths of his sister and his first lover, the loss of his eye, his own brush with death...Did he really expect to weather all of that without any signs of wear? Of course he was more emotional lately. If he wasn't, it would have been cause for concern.

"I'm not so sure it's such a terrible thing to be unable to hide your emotions from them. That's probably my biggest problem with K'von. We don't talk enough." Yes, it had to be disconcerting if you'd always been much more controlled before. Kalierre was a control freak. Any of her healers could attest to that. It was her reason for becoming a healer, truly, because she didn't like being helpless or out of control. A decision made young, and it hadn't provided the solution to all her problems, but she still felt calmer than she would have if she didn't have any way to help.

The woman glanced over at R'wign, edging nearer and untangling the blanket enough to wrap it around his shoulders as well. "That's a risk that has to be taken, once things get started. You can't go back now. And...yeah, you probably will hurt this person. Hopefully multiple times over the turns. And they'll probably hurt you. No one's perfect." Kalierre pressed against him for warmth. "People feel hurt over silly things that have nothing to do with you, really. Misunderstandings. Associations that you couldn't know about. A poorly chosen word or maybe something just slips out when you're upset. It's natural and there's no sense in trying to avoid the inevitable.

"The key is knowing how to fix it when it happens."

[glamourie]

Of course it was a terrible thing. R’wign didn’t voice that thought – he didn’t have to. The puzzled look that went over his face was enough. Despite all appearances to being mostly casual, R’wign was very obsessed with control of himself. Not so much others, but himself, yes. He didn’t like doing things without a good reason and feelings qualified under that. He hated being out of control. The thought made R’wign twitch and the healer bowed his head slightly. There were other reasons – he didn’t think M’ta was exactly fond of dealing with the moodiness he was experiencing lately and it made him angry to imagine himself burdening his… weyrmate? So weird that the term actually applied. For so long they’d lived together with nothing between them and used the term to be amusing – even when the dragons were weyrlings. That thought made R’wign wonder, fleetingly, if Checkoth and Behruth knew something that they didn’t. It was possible, though Checkoth likely didn’t – he tended to be unobservant. He loved his dragon, but he was not a genius by any stretch of imagination.

“Maybe you emasculate him,” R’wign said with a wry note of playfulness; he deliberately avoided the stare and then frown, as neither of those expressions were anything he wanted to respond to. He didn’t want to explain to Kalierre where his problem with being termed ‘young’ came from. He didn’t like being classified with people his own age. He just didn’t. “I’m still convinced you’re secretly male. Not that I know your weyrmate to say for sure. I have trouble communicating though.” Not technically true. When he managed to force himself to talk, R’wign was actually quite eloquent most of the time. He just wasn’t good at forcing words out. By nature, R’wign was self-contained. He did better just shoveling everything down deep inside and trying to ignore it completely. “I feel like I spend so much time stammering nonsense that he must hate me – or find me terribly confusing. I’m used to being… the rock, the person who is always even tempered, and I’m not anymore. I’m broken. It bothers me.”

His head lifted at the blanket being woven over his shoulders and R’wign let a smile move over his face. He leaned his head companionably on Kalierre’s, his gaze shifting to the river below and the other side of the canyon. In the back of his mind, he was paying attention to the sounds of the infirmary but – it seemed like it was running smoothly. At least, no one was screaming, so it was probably safe. Probably. He mentally prodded his firelizards to make Hazard check up – just to be sure. R’wign was prone to obsession, after all.

The smile wavered after a moment and he sighed. “Hopefully? Hopefully? How is that hopeful?” Little known fact: R’wign’s greatest fear was to be a disappointment and hurting M’ta qualified as disappointing him to the healer. He shivered uncomfortably and looked down. “It’s different now – it’s… With Marra, I just walked away when I was mad, worked off the anger and never brought it up again. Or placated her with sex – possibly too much information. I can’t do that now, and I don’t know how to fix things because I’m not used to being the person getting so worked up. My response is always run away, bury things, and I – I can’t do that anymore.” That seemed to worry M’ta worse. He didn’t know what to do. His natural personality led to him just avoiding conflict. “I hate fighting. I hate the idea of hurting someone I care about. I hate seeing him upset.”

R’wign leaned forward, resting his forehead on his knees. It was probably the strangest position, legs hanging limply at his sides, but at least it was comfortable. And it kept him from having to meet her gaze.

[Requiem]

Kalierre snorted in open derision. "I think it's been quite thoroughly established to almost the entire Weyr, due to Phremath's influence, that I am most definitely a woman." It wasn't like she browbeat K'von or played with him like he was a boytoy or something. She didn't emasculate him. True, he seemed to derive a good deal of pleasure out of the simple act of dominating her physically, but she didn't find that at all unusual. Kalierre liked that sort of behavior in a man, anyway, and she didn't know hardly any she'd been with who didn't like to feel in control. He was actually mild compared to some.

The dragonhealer's line of thought came to an abrupt halt at R'wign's next words. It wasn't that she found them disturbing, per se, though she was northern enough that homosexuality was something she didn't understand terribly easily. (It was easier for her to understand it in men, however, considering she herself had no idea why anyone would want a relationship with a woman anyway.) No, the source of her surprise was simply that it was R'wign. His interest in women was more than clear. And he was northern, too, so it wouldn't come as easily to him as a southerner. But he'd clearly said 'he.' And as R'wign continued to speak, that single telling pronoun continued to pop up.

Instead of commenting on the 'he' that had her suddenly curious, Kalierre elected to answer his question. Her fingers went to his hair in a wordless attempt to comfort. "I said hopefully because if you upset him many, many times that means you've been together for a long time," she explained softly. "It really is...I mean, of course you don't want to upset anyone or make them worry or anything, but it's going to happen. And it should be okay for other people to see you upset and be your rock every once in awhile, shouldn't it? Especially the person you care about."

Kalierre was beginning to feel...decidedly awkward, if she was perfectly truthful. She wasn't a very emotional person. Nor was she used to people coming to her with intimate details of their lives much these days, on account of how...blunt...she was. Comforting anyone seemed odd to her. "Fights are also normal. Maybe you should tell him this? I don't know. I've never been that concerned about distressing people, to be honest." That was decidedly unhelpful, she was sure.

[glamourie]

“Man with girl parts physically,” R’wign countered, a hint of teasing creeping into his voice; it melted away some of the agitation he felt. He wasn’t upset at Kalierre; he was more flustered and bothered than anything else. R’wign didn’t like feelings very much. They clouded judgment. He did much better when he could just tunnel vision focus on something, because he could turn off everything going on inside of him while doing it. Turn off his feelings. They were uncomfortable anyway. Teasing Kalierre was significantly more comfortable than trying to sort through his emotions. He didn’t even know why he asked her, though. Kali wasn’t exactly the epitome of emotions. Technically she was almost the opposite; the greenrider just was not an overly emotional entity and never had been. She thought more like a man most of the time – it made R’wign more comfortable than he’d like to admit – but what he needed was sentimental behavior. He needed someone to talk to him who understood feelings. Tch. Oh well.

His head shook slightly and he tried to smile. It was an awkward, faltering expression. His head shook. “I’d prefer more happiness than constant upset. I’ve had a relationship with constant upset and harps being thrown at my head. I’d rather not have that again,” he said with a light sigh. “Maybe it’s normal, maybe it’s okay, but it doesn’t feel okay, Kali. It feels sleazy. I hate talking about things. Do you know how hard it was for me to even bring this up to you? I feel like my stomach is somewhere in the canyon below us. It’s kind of… yeah. I don’t do well with this. I feel like nothing I’m saying makes sense either.” He actually felt like he was suffocating – it was a problem he frequently had when he was talking about his emotions, with anyone really. He just had anxiety problems when it came to talking about how he felt inside, and he never did it because of that. Easier to just shut up and deal with things himself. Easier, but was it better? Hard to say.

Maybe he should talk to M’ta, but… he didn’t really know how. What if M’ta thought he was odd? What if he chased him off? The ‘L’ word tended to scare people away. Had M’ta ever said it to him? Did he love him? That thought sent an odd tingling feeling through him that made R’wign crinkle his nose slightly. Was he… anxious? Yes. He was. How strange. He didn’t voice that, instead shifting his weight slightly. Maybe he’d talk to M’ta. Maybe. He was just… petrified of… what? Being rejected? Being unwanted? Being a disappointment. It was hard to decide what to do. Fear was a really powerful deterrent.

Changing the topic, R’wign said softly, “Do you believe something can be too sentimental? Like, gifts?” His head cocked to the side and he leaned in to her touch subconsciously. R’wign was very much a physical entity and any kind of comfort was welcome, even if he didn’t recognize that it did help. “I’ve been making a gift… ‘cause his turnday is next month, you know? I’m worried it’ll be too much. I don’t know much about that. Nothing was too sentimental for Marra but this isn’t the same. It’s… a journal of stories. I like to tell stories, and he said once that he didn’t like secrets, so I thought – I thought maybe writing down some things about my past, in story format, would be… you know, would be okay. I’m worried now it’s too soon to give something like that because what if it sounds… pushy? I don’t know. I hate being insecure.”

[Requiem]

"Man with girl parts," Kalierre echoed drolly. She very nearly spit back at him something to the effect of that explaining his involvement with men - if he'd engaged in their little indiscretion under the belief that she was actually a man. Fortunately, the dragonhealer did have some measure of restraint, and realized that such a comment just might be a bit too soon and too direct. Or was it soon? Hard to tell, considering she'd been completely wrapped up in her own misery since first discovering her pregnancy.

The dragonhealer couldn't help but chuckle, the sound itself decidedly wry. "I think I have a pretty good idea, as far as the hating to talk about your own feelings thing goes." It was irritating, at the very least, to have to put such things into words, because they often didn't make an ounce of sense, and she spent the vast majority of her time not acknowledging their existance for that very reason. So yes, she could identify with R'wign's starting point, but as to the whole...emotions everywhere thing...no. K'von didn't produce that in her. Lust didn't. Phre didn't. And she seriously doubted much anyone else even could.

Squinting at him, she attempted to follow his train of thought, though it wasn't particularly easy. He kept on derailing himself and taking his explanation in different directions. "You're writing him these...stories...of your past and putting them all together? Because he doesn't like secrets and it's easier for you to write it down like it's happening to someone else and let him read it than to try to explain it to him?" She thought she had a grasp on what he'd been trying to say, anyway.

"Seems less like sentiment and more like trying to comply with his wishes the best way you know how, to me. I would think he'd appreciate that. You're trying, and it's something tangible to give him... The biggest problem it might cause is making him feel the need to reciprocate in some fashion, but that's not necessarily a problem when it comes right down to it." Kalierre cocked her head to one side. "Okay, I can't keep it in anymore. You're seeing a man?" Curiosity. She really couldn't help herself. "Do I know him?"

It was likely, actually, that she did, but Kalierre didn't want to simply assume they were talking about M'ta. Even if he was R'wign's weyrmate, if only nominally before (now?), and she'd seen them together right after the weyrhealer died for a short time. The most logical assumption, she would think, but it was presumptious for her to believe she knew enough about R'wign's life that she could make accurate assumptions. They didn't see much of each other at all outside of the infirmary, when it was all said and done.