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Post by Administrator on Dec 2, 2007 15:08:04 GMT -5
Though Shmee was anxious as S'rei didn't answer her first question, she was too tired to pursue it. She allowed him to hoist her up, and she leaned back into him. she felt sticky as well as ill, but his body could provide a little ounce of comfort that she so desperately needed. She closed her eyes, wanting to just slip back into unconsciousness again. Her hand went to her stomach, empty of everything: Of food, of her babe... Sorrow washed in a wave over her, and she found herself shaking in S'rei's protective arms. She wanted her babe. She wanted to hold it in her arms, to watch it grow... Nothing, absolutely nothing, could fix this gaping wound in her heart! If it wasn't for S'rei and Aslath, she would probably insist on following her babe where it went. It was unreal, how easily she came to love the little soul within her that had never even breathed a drop of air!
Over a day? She felt her blood run cold in her hot body. Shards, if people knew by now... She didn't know how she would face them, all the people she had boasted about being pregnant to, like Rawign, who she had flaunted off her many pies. Marisina, who she had been avoiding to try and avoid talk of fostering. S'rei's sister and Kalierre, everyone she had leaked this news out to... One thing was certainly clear now: Never, ever in her life would she see another blessing vanish. Feeling herself hardening against the world, she knew this was her fault. She had been blessed with such an incredible being in her body, and her carelessness had robbed her of that! She was unworthy to bear S'rei's children, she was too disgusting to do so!
"I am so sorry," she repeated as he helped her bring the water to her mouth. Grasping it with her weak fingers, the glass shook, and probably would have fallen had S'rei not been steadying it. Gratefully bringing the glass to her lips, she gulped it like one who had been dying of thirst (which probably was very near to the truth). It quelled her parched tongue, and the relief she felt with such a cool liquid in her burning body was amazing. Though she desired more, she held it tongue, deciding that she couldn't ask this much more from him after all of this. "It's all my fault," she told him, her voice low with ache, but no longer as hoarse. "I should've made my own tea... I was perfectly capable of making it, yet I didn't. I was too lazy, and look what it cost me!" With that, a sob wracked her body. No tears came out, and her weakened frame simply couldn't support a heavy sob, but the emotions behind it were possibly more heart-wrenching than a loud sob.
As she heard S'rei's voice crack, even further guilt consumed her. "I'm still here," she told him, her own voice beginning to waver. Finding his hand, she squeezed it weakly. "I love you," she whispered, trying to make him feel better. She caused him so much pain... Gripping his hand as tightly as she could, which wasn't very tightly, she gently brought it to her chest, where she clutched it against the thin, moist fabric. "Please don't leave me alone," she added softly, her trembling voice fearful. She didn't want to be left alone right now. Selfish as her request seemed to her, and even though he knew he probably had work to do at the moment, she didn't want to be alone. It was a terrifying thought in her mind at this moment.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 3, 2007 22:21:27 GMT -5
S'rei closed his eyes, his voice surpassingly weary. "Not your fault, Shmee." At any other time he would've said more, would've done something that might be of more reassurance to his weyrmate. He knew his voice lacked conviction, that even had it come with its usual force, she would likely disbelieve him. But the Weyrleader didn't have the strength at the moment to lend her any more than he already had. He was stretched thin and diving into an emotional deadness that was better than the rage striving to break out. Rage against whoever had dared to strike out at his family - and at himself for being unable to protect them. S'rei needed an outlet, but could get none here. He couldn't risk letting even a small portion of what he was feeling to leak out, lest the anger turn against Shmee. Irrationally. S'rei wasn't angry with her, and he didn't blame her, but he was not the best at keeping his anger from seeping out and touching everything within reach.
Particularly when its target was beyond his knowledge.
Nevertheless, again she spoke of it being her fault. "Stop!" he hissed, his arm tightening around her, trying to somehow force her to let the thought go. Every time she spoke of how it was her fault, it only pierced him deeper, the knowledge that the babe was dead...that he had done nothing to prevent it. That she was lying here now, brought back from the edge of death, because of his failure. He felt the anger welling up inside him, building up to nearly the breaking point. S'rei could keep it down so long as she just didn't talk about it! Why did she have to...why?
It was irrational, really, this fear that he would never admit he had. Already he'd been unable to protect one weyrmate. Now he'd nearly lost another. And, as with all negative emotions, he denied it, transmuting it into a burning anger. It was the fault of all in his family line. Worse, S'rei had more control over his flares than the rest, making his explosions all the more devastating. "Let's...Please, don't talk about it. I can't." It was selfish, in a way. He knew she must need to talk to him, to get this worry and guilt out in the open, this pain. But he was not prepared to share it with her.
The Weyrleader needed to get off to himself.
To try to get his mind away from the black hole drawing him in - and perhaps to silence her - he filled the cup of water back up, halfway, offering it to her the same as he had before. "Drink slowly. You'll get sick," he added, without the force his earlier words had carried. His arm tightened where it now crossed her chest, drawing her up further against him. Though he couldn't say the words - any emotion was likely to break the dam - S'rei buried his face in her neck, a prolonged and previously supressed quaver starting in his stomach and taking him almost violently. After a moment he managed to clamp down on it.
She was here. In his arms. Alive. Yes, the baby was gone, but she would get better. They could have another child. And, by the egg, he would see that whoever was responsible for this paid dearly. It was a paltry reassurance, that last, and would never bring back the life they'd lost...but still it was a reassurance. His heart ached, and he felt that, at any moment, he'd awaken and find that this was all a dream. That Shmee, too...was dead...
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Post by Administrator on Dec 4, 2007 6:01:24 GMT -5
Shmee's trembling never ceased for a moment, and only increased at S'rei's command at her to stop talking about it. "Sorry," she replied weakly. She knew it was her fault, but she didn't want S'rei to get angry right now. She wouldn't have the strength to fight him away if he tried yelling at her. Her gut felt hot in the emotions she still wanted to loosen. She needed to talk about the babe she lost... She needed to have someone be there for her as she spoke about it. It hurt, the fact that she couldn't even express her pain at her babe's death to try and help S'rei not feel so angry. Her shaking turned violent, a shaking she couldn't even control as she shuddered in S'rei's hold. Her heart aching for all the trouble she had caused, she just kept on shaking in S'rei's arms, closing her tired eyes that were horrifically bloodshot.
Accepting the water, she once again needed it steadied as the shaking of her hands was just as terrible. Accidentally dribbling some of the water down her chin, she whimpered, slowly wiping at it with the back of her hot, yet very pale, hand. The shaking spasm ended, she collapsed limply, exhausted. Reaching for the water again, she tipped it into her mouth, though S'rei's assistance was still needed. Her hands were too weak.
She felt his face in her neck, and she finally felt the burning of tiny tears budding up under her own eyes. It was a relief he was holding her, she thought, genuine relief and slight guilt at how seflish she seemed. Yet... she still had this irrational fear that she would die. Well, perhaps not irrational, considering she almost did die, but it was something that absolutely terrified Shmee. She doubted she would ever leave S'rei's side again, knowing that if she were alone, then she would die...
Though it hurt to do so, she pushed herself closer into S'rei slightly, unable to hide a small groan of just how uncomfortable it was. One hand finding his, she held it as she lowered herself slowly so that while most of her body remained between his legs, her upper body leaned sideways against S'rei's arm, almost as if she were cradling herself with him.
As if with sudden realization, her eyes shot open, and she looked back down to her stomach yet again, her view of it unobstructed as her movement had lifted up her sweat-soaked shirt. Her pale stomach was visible, now a full view of where her babe no longer was. Empty, empty, empty... Choking out a sob, she clung to S'rei as if in physical pain, burying her head in his shirt. "I hurt all over," was all she managed to whisper. She needed to get that part out, at the very least. She needed him to know that she was now incapable of distinguishing her mental pain from the physical, even though she was careful not to bring up the actual babe for his sake.
Perhaps it would've been right if she had just died along with the babe.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 4, 2007 21:27:10 GMT -5
Shard it all. He'd scared her. S'rei wished he could be stronger, that he could listen at the very least, but it didn't change the truth. He couldn't. Not now. Later, perhaps. By that time, though, would Shmee be willing to talk about it, or would it be too late? Maybe...he could try...? The Weyrleader closed his eyes, trying to steel himself, inhaling Shmee's scent. Sickness. Sweat. Blood. But alive, so very alive, and somehow it steadied him, though the mixture of smells turned his stomach just a bit.
His eyes opened as she moved, their depths having come alive again with a keen sorrow, even as he winced at her groan. Why did she do these things that hurt her? S'rei supported her back with an arm, his hand lingering at where her shoulder met her neck, the other arm lifting her legs just enough to position them over his own thigh so that she might be comfortable. Had she wanted to look at him? Was that why she did this?
Her womb. Without a word, he gently moved the tunic back into place, knowing that, if it wreaked such havoc on his emotions, it must be worse for her. All of this must be worse for her. His child, yes, but a part of her body, and she drank the tea. No, S'rei understood her pain. Understood the guilt that must be wracking her. He was just being selfish. The fear that he'd hurt her in a fit of rage was real enough, but he could control it. If he wished, he could control it. The Weyrleader just didn't want to endure the effort it would take, the onslaught of emotions made all the stronger because he had to beat them back. He was a coward.
His head dipped as she buried her face in his shirt, one hand moving to capture her fingers again, as the one at her back shifted to run his fingers through her short, sodden hair. "I'm sorry, Shmee. I wish I could take it all away." Gentleness had worked its way back into his voice. He could do this. He could. Then, once she slept again...he would leave, and find a place where he could be alone, where he could deal with this as he must. S'rei was not a man who healed by talking. Even that bit of time apart from her, though, he balked at. She might leave him forever if he didn't watch over her every breath. Only his certainty that he was more of a danger to her than leaving her alone if he allowed the emotions to build up too high without release could convince him to leave her, even when she would not know of his absence.
She could not know of it.
S'rei couldn't very well just ask her to talk after growling at her a moment ago. There was only one thing to do: open the door. "You couldn't have known, love. Whoever did this...they are crueler than you could have imagined. Why would you even suspect something like that? That's my job. I'm so sorry." He hadn't intended to voice his own guilt, but now it was out in the open. Nevermind. The intention had been carried through. If she wanted to talk...he could listen...
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Post by Administrator on Dec 6, 2007 22:50:45 GMT -5
Shmee shook her hot head, though the reason she did so was unknown. Feeling his arms move her legs across his thigh, she closed her eyes against the dull ache, carefully not looking back to the section of the sheets her legs had vacated. She didn’t want to see if there was blood there, the blood of her babe. Instead, her normally bright blue eyes were closed. She didn’t want to see if her youngling’s blood—or her blood—stained her sheets. “Can we go home?” she whispered pitifully, meaning their weyr in the hatching ground. Being in here… it was unfamiliar, save for the all-too-familiar knowledge that it was here where this horrible memory was made. She did not want to be here.
Her eyes opened for a moment, the blue orbs now dull. The reassurance that this was S’rei in the flesh and not a ghost was a welcome comfort. Though the babe was gone, her S’rei, her handsome, loving weyrmate S’rei, was still here. Suddenly feeling dizzy, she closed her eyes, physically unable to keep them open. He was moving her tunic over her stomach again, she thought vaguely as he did so. Guilty about putting S’rei through this as well, she sighed weakly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, not for the first time, nor the last.
As he stroked her hair, the burning behind her eyes grew more. It was not enough water for true tears, but her shaking got the message across. Letting out little whimperings at his words, she was disgusted with herself, with both her conscience telling her this was all her fault, as well as not having the self-control to keep herself calm. Yet, another part of her knew that these actions simply weren’t enough. She needed tears to shed!
“It was my fault though,” she told him weakly, trying to get above this perpetual whisper, but unable to do so. “I was too lazy to make my own tea, so I had a drudge send for it. All my fault…” Letting out a shallow exhale, it was easy to tell that Shmee was fading to unconsciousness rapidly. Blood loss, perhaps? Exhaustion? All were valid reasons for the beginning of Shmee’s lull into oblivious. His last words were troubling, however. Trying to open her eyes and pull herself up to look at him, she groaned as it was too strenuous a motion. Limply falling back to his arms, she shook her head slowly, ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcame her.
“Not your fault,” she stated, with crumbling firmness. There was no possible way she could sound as stern as she wanted to in this state. “You… couldn’t know. We didn’t suspect it, but whoever is out there was just waiting for me to let my guard down. Not you.”
Letting out a small cough, her head rolled onto her chest and against his own. Terror gripped her, and she sobbed. She was scared. “Don’t let me die,” she whispered fearfully. Whether against her own irrational fear of just randomly dying, or whether from worry that the people who had killed her babe would return for her, she pressed herself weakly against S’rei. “I’m so tired, but I… I don’t want to sleep.” Whimpering again, she shook a little once more.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 7, 2007 17:12:39 GMT -5
He could feel her flagging again. A little spike of fear went through him, but he beat it back. She was all right. No. Not all right. But at the very least not in immediate danger of dying, of leaving him here with her ghost as his only comfort, to attempt to lead a Weyr he’d never truly desired to lead in the first place. Shmee made all that bearable. Without her…he would be lost. Selfish, selfish. Why did it take something like this for him to realize just how self-centered and cowardly he truly was? Maybe she wanted to leave him. Wouldn’t it be more merciful than having to bear this pain, this guilt? S’rei couldn’t let her, though. He simply wasn’t strong enough to lose a babe and his weyrmate at once – never wanted to lose her at all.
Not knowing how to make her understand that she couldn’t blame herself for this, the Weyrleader waxed silent. She had no comprehension of the male state of mind. Most women didn’t, as men didn’t often go around trying to explain. To him – Shmee was his. In his most primal state, he thought that way, though it wasn’t conscious. Anything, then, that happened to her was necessarily his own fault, because he should have prevented it. What was his should be safe. He should keep them that way. It didn’t matter if she physically took a knife and attacked herself with it; he still couldn’t blame her for whatever wounds she inflicted on herself because, again, he should have stopped it. Hard to explain something that unreasonable, particularly when half of it was something below conscious thought.
But, regardless, her words did little to allay the guilt and anger inside.
Then again, it seemed she didn’t want to die after all. He wouldn’t have. But she’d seemed so despondent a moment ago…Not that he could bring himself to care whether she wanted to follow her babe or not. In this he was unyielding. S’rei was not going to allow her to leave him, if it was within his power.
“You won’t die, love. I won’t let you. Shush.” He stroked her arm lightly, her face hidden from him. Even as she spoke of her weariness, S’rei moved to lift her, shifting so that he might stand. He placed her back on the furs, gently wrapping her in the topmost one – the cleanest. “Don’t worry, Shmee. You can sleep. I’ll hold you. Nothing will touch you.” So saying, he lifted her back up, now huddled in the fur, obscured from the view of the curious and protected from the cool air. One hand lingered at the back of her head, turning it toward his chest. He left Paryal’s quarters, the weyrling barracks, headed for the hatching grounds and, past that, to their grounded weyr.
There would be no speaking of this until she had rested. Until he had bathed her and she’d been fed. Then – there would have been enough time to perhaps get over the shock a little.
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Post by Administrator on Dec 8, 2007 14:17:39 GMT -5
Shmee's breathing quickened, genuinely scared that she would die. From a realistic standpoint, it was clear the danger of dying was much less than it had been, but Shmee couldn't help it. Now that S'rei was comforting her, her desire to follow the babe into death was lessening. "Don't let me die," she whispered, terrified. At least he was with her. That alone seemed to save her from death- if she were alone, she believed that she would most definitely die. His protection and love were banishing death away from her. Yet the fear wasn't quelled. "If I fall asleep, then I might not wake up," she told him, explaining why she didn't want to sleep. It was out of fear. Trying to curl against him, she stopped as she felt her body shifting. S'rei was moving her... Trusting him, she let her body limply go along with the movements.
She groaned in slight protest as he wrapped her in the furs. She was too hot to want furs right now, but it wasn't as though she could fight it. Feeling herself sweat a little more, she whimpered slightly, trying to fight sleep as S'rei turned her head to his chest. Subconsciously nuzzling her head to the side against his chest, she closed her eyes.
His rhythmic steps as he left the room made her bounce a little against him, but it wasn't stopping from the oblivion taking over her mind. Exhausted, she drifted in and out of consciousness even as he carried her away from the weyrling barracks. Each time she woke, fear would come over her and her sweat would turn cold. However, realizing that she was in S'rei's arms calmed her down. She still ached for her babe. What would it have become? Was it a boy, or a girl? What was its name? Would it have become a dragonrider, or a crafter, or simply one of the holdfolk? She would do anything to give it that chance...
"Is it really... gone?" she asked quietly in one of her bouts of consciousness as they reached the weyr. What had they done with it? Tears finally sliding down her cheeks, she managed to crack her eyes open, reaching out desperately to Aslath, who wrapped her mind in warm, sleepy love and comfort. This was unbearable pain for Shmee- how had she allowed this to happen!?
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 9, 2007 1:43:55 GMT -5
He understood her fear, and, in the same instant, understood the irrationality of it. Shmee needed rest. It was just that simple. Lack of it was more likely to kill her than anything else. Though he must admit that he shared some of that fear - it was part of what made it so easy for him to sympathize - S'rei was never one to let fear rule him. In fact, some might say he had an unhealthy rebellious streak when it came to fear; the Weyrleader tended to do whatever frightened him simply to prove that he could.
Again with that question. S'rei swallowed. Kali had - said it was gone. It must have been big enough to see, after three months. He trusted the healer would have known. And that she wouldn't have said such a thing unless it were true. He - he had been mercifully asleep at the babe's passing. The man could be imaginative, himself, but he'd laid the child to rest fairly quickly in his worry for Shmee. It was unfortunate. Tragic. Regrettable. The pain lingered inside. However, his primary concern was for his weyrmate, and would always be such. No unborn child's life was worth hers. Saying such might grieve her, so he'd never mention it, but to him this was undeniable truth.
Perhaps... Salenth spoke, quietly. Perhaps Aslath's needs to hear for certain. Perhaps she won't be able to move on if she doesn't. The thought had never occured to S'rei, that this could be possible. She had to know. How could she even begin to entertain the hope that somehow the child had not been killed in that flood that had very nearly taken her own life? You didn't want to believe that she was dead. You humans aren't rational creatures. There was only one person he could mean, by that she. S'rei acknowledged the logic in that.
The bronze tended to be far more discerning than his rider. While the Weyrleader was certainly astute, he didn't really get the insights Salenth did, as he had a habit of viewing things in a rather black and white fashion. If it would help Shmee, to say something that hurtful...then he supposed he must.
"Yes, Shmee. Our babe is gone." Her tears felt like a dagger being plunged into his heart, but he dealt with it as best he could. Normally her tears didn't faze him. Normally they were shed for little reason. Now, though, he knew how deep this pain must be for her, and it pained him just as much. He hated seeing her so weak, so hurting. His only fits of rage so far had been in her defense, and that was no fluke. Shmee was his heart. His devotion. It physically pained him, almost beyond rational thought.
Moving into their weyr, he lowered himself onto their cot, extremely weary himself. He still had her cradled in his arms. Adjusting her into the curve of his body, his eyes searched her face for a long moment, one hand brushing the hair from it before he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I'll watch over your sleep. Don't be afraid."
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