Laying the Blame [Kali, etc.]

[kysseh]

The tiny room was surprisingly quiet, an odd change from the main part of the infirmary. The sick were often moaning and shaking in the throes of fever and chills, delusions and some other mental pains that plagued them incessantly as they lay ill. The ill person in the sole bed of this room had spent two sevendays in the infirmary, going through his own miseries that never got outwardly loud. It did not take healer's skill or practice to see his malady, though, even if he had never complained. Then again, being largely unconscious and delusional made it hard for one to complain. Only in the last three or so days had there been any sign of improvement in the brownrider's condition, but that alone made Savitri hopeful. She had not been monitoring him day and night but had been one of the more constant healers at his bedside. He was friend to her. It was unwise to get personally involved with a patient, but with a man she viewed as something between friend and annoying sibling, it was hard to remain neutral.

"Shh, it's all right. See, his fever is down," she said quite softly to the flitter that perched on K'von's pillow, gently offering another little tidbit of meat to the shivering creature. Dania had scarcely left the side of her beloved humanpet since he fell ill, and at first, her crying had been so heartwrenching that Savitri could barely bear it. She had taken to bringing food to the little green so that the flitter would not waste away, for she certainly did not leave K'von's side to eat. The flitter was now simply creeling softly, though even that was starting to fade away in the past few days. She recognized that her humanpet was getting well, and now she would take the offered tidbits instead of just toying with them. At Savitri's reassurance, amplified by Hepaticath's direct 'speech' at the goldrider's insistence, Dania finally calmed and curled on the pillow next to K'von's cheek.

It appalled Savitri to see her friend so thin. The normally-healthy and muscular brownrider was reduced to little more than a skeleton, and she was grateful that he had had enough moments of lucidity to drink a little water daily to keep from dehydrating to the point of death. Still, he had largely remained wholly unaware of the world for enough time that Savitri had feared for his survival. Now, though, the danger seemed to be nearly past. He was terribly pale, and his breathing was still thick, as though moisture still lingered in his lungs. But his fever was slowly reducing, and his pulse and breathing rate had improved. It pleased her immeasurably to see him improving, and with Dania calming, it was an indication that he was, indeed, on the road to recovery.

Of slightly more concern to her was how the news would be broken to his weyrmate. Kalierre had scarcely left the infirmary since the start of the plague, but Savitri was sure that the head of the infirmary was unaware as to the state of her brownrider's health. As one of the senior healers, Kalierre was necessary. They needed her help. Savitri was no expert, learned though she was. She had not even her journeyman knots yet. Dohulth and K'von had stressed from the beginning that Kalierre not be exposed to K'von's illness, and Savitri had complied with that wish, adding the wisdom that should the greenrider know... well, it would have been a sorry state all around. Now, however, with K'von on the road, it would be impossible to slide it by her. Now was not the occasion to tell, but it would be soon. Hopefully, that would be after the brownrider was wholly out of danger. They were getting fewer new patients now anyway. Perhaps that meant the sickness had run its course? She hoped so.

After a final check of the brownrider's temperature--which she was pleased to find was only slightly above normal, barely warm compared to the scorching temperature he had been displaying only days before--the young woman stood and collected her supplies, grimacing at the complaint of her joints. It was time for her shift to be over. He had been her final stop, even if someone had checked on him barely a quarter-candlemark before. Seeing that he was breathing easily enough, with Dania curled up and keeping a cautious eye on him, she made for the door and slipped out. I'll be out in a minute. she informed Hepaticath as she attempted to quietly close the door behind herself. I think it's nearly time for me to feed the girls. Are they up?

[Requiem]

All of the healers should have been worried. Ever since Kalierre awoke from her brief two candlemarks of stolen rest roughly thirty-six hours ago, she'd been sedate. Even downtrodden. The woman was going through her duties on auto-pilot, tending to the sick, checking and refilling the stores, making sure that the slowly emptying infirmary was being cleaned from top to bottom. The plague itself had more or less run its course, with just a few new patients coming in...most leaving, either under their own power or...not. And the few remaining beds that held occupants had to be catalogued so she could be sure the sheets were burned once they were vacated. It seemed that now that the major crisis had mostly passed, the adrenaline and worry and stubbornness that had kept the woman going for so long...had mostly puttered out.

Slipping down the hallway where the individual rooms held some of the later patients who still hadn't either succumbed or recovered, she caught sight of the goldrider exiting one of the doors. Ah. Savitri. There was likely someone in there, then. Kalierre brushed past her, not out of rudeness as it would have been any other time, but because she was too tired to stand on ceremony. "We've another one in here, yes?" She didn't make it fully into the room. That firelizard was far too familiar...after turns of living with her. Blankly, Kalierre's eyes fell on the wasted figure in the bed that she would have hardly recognized without Dania. Another second of blankness, but when her mind finally started moving again she processed the whole thing remarkably fast.

Dania meant K'von. And K'von looking like that - so wasted and small and fragile-seeming - meant he'd been here a long while. At least a sevenday if not two. Savitri was in here. She knew. Dohulth knew but hadn't told her through Phre. Cath knew. Probably half of the sharding infirmary staff knew, considering how long it had been and how difficult it would be to keep it secret. They must have been steering her away from this door continuously...and she too tired to notice and grow suspicious. Hiding anything from her was worthy of irritation, if not outright anger, but this?!

He looked half-dead. More than half-dead. Fear clenched at her throat, the woman forced to look away, her eyes lighting on Savitri. She must have paled, because her cheeks were so unbearably cold. Her whole face was cold. She shivered. K'von... Mine. Please...we just... Now, the dragonhealer might have simply spit something sharp at the goldrider and disappeared into the room. Most likely she would have, in fact, as the fear was more prominent than the anger. But Phremath tipped the scales. We. Just. The green had known. Of all the beings Kalierre trusted, she trusted Phremath the most, and that betrayal sent her into a true rage. They had no right! He was her weyrmate. Her weyrmate! How could they keep him here, on the brink of death, and not even tell her?! How could Phremath keep it from her?!

"You..." she hissed, advancing on Savitri with no regard to the pain in her hip. The woman was mad enough to spit. Angry enough to move fast. She had Savitri pinned against the wall swiftly, her voice chill as mountain ice. "You deliberately kept this from me. I should have known better than to take a pompous goldrider on here, to defend you against Shmee to allow you to continue your training. You repay me by going behind my back like this. What would you do if it was Ka'rys in there? Huh? But of course that doesn't matter, because he's yours. I should never have trusted you. Vile, arrogant worm of a woman." All this at volume barely above a whisper.

Her throat stopped up, unable to continue, and she fought for enough control to keep the tears from coming.

[kysseh]

With Ras off making someone else's life miserable, Savitri was unaware of the approaching healer until it was far, far too late to dissuade Kalierre from entering. The goldrider felt her face drain of blood, even with the paleness that exhaustion had given to her features. Shard blast it, but this was bad. She sensed Hepaticath's growing alarm and knew that the gold, outside on the cliffs, was shifting restlessly upon sensing Savitri's own dismay. The goldrider was not bothered by the fact that Kalierre brushed by her without ceremony, mostly because she was preoccupied with trying to shore herself up for the coming storm. It wouldn't take long for Kalierre to recognize her weyrmate, even with K'von being in as poor a state as he was. Shall I come get you now? was Hepaticath's quiet inquiry, and Savitri quickly responded in the negative. No, she wasn't a coward that way, and it was the least she could do to be sympathetic to Kalierre, especially given the care the woman had shown toward her after Virast's death.

That being said, she was still unable to contain her discomfort as the senior healer's eyes fixated on her, and she felt an immediate surge of guilt as the color left the other woman's face. She wanted to apologize, to reassure her that she had fussed over K'von as much as she could. The young woman was exhausted from all her efforts, but to the woman who was so concerned over her weyrmate, she doubted that was of any comfort. Nothing would be of any comfort except to have her own weyrmate whole and well in her arms. Savitri knew the feeling, remembering how it was to cling to Ka'rys after the explosion of the old infirmary.

Still, sympathizing with Kalierre's apparent distress did not make her any less startled or alarmed when she heard the greenrider's hiss. The fury indicated with that sound was perhaps slightly earned in keeping the knowledge from her. The goldrider visibly started as she was swiftly pinned to a wall by the spitting mad (literally, really) healer, and her first instinct was to lift a hand and curl it around Kalierre's wrist. Perhaps that was Ka'rys' influence, her instinct to defend. That was as far as she got, though, before the Kalierre's words flew like stinging barbs in her face.

Perhaps it was the fact that she had never expected such words from Kalierre that it hurt. She was surprised to find that she just took the verbal abuse, though, with little inclination to defend herself. Did she deserve it? Perhaps. But she was tired, too tired to really fight it. That, combined with the fact that Kalierre's whispered speech ended abruptly took any fight out of her. The goldrider's throat tightened with sympathy, as she thought of herself in the other woman's place. Kalierre was angry with her. That was clear. But.... she was fairly sure it was similarly concern for her weyrmate that drove the healer's ire. She would make her apologies later and just hold her tongue for now, even if she wanted nothing more than to protest.

Luckily, Dania spared her having to say anything by flying gracelessly off the bed and alighting on Kalierre's shoulder. Long days of rarely leaving K'von's side were making the flitter a bit stiff, but her enthusiastically shrill twitters more than made up for her lack of grace. The little green nudged her head against the side of Kalierre's face and then chirped excitedly at Savitri. Almost as if doing a double-take, her head turned back to Kalierre. Wait... wait, she knew her! Oh! Dania had completely forgotten her other person, and she cooed sweetly and cuddled her face against the greenrider, her wings fluttering excitedly. Her humanpet was awake! Couldn't she come see him? He looked bad, but he was awake.

Indeed, the frail-looking body was stirring, and K'von let out a mumble that might've been intelligible words. Savitri was too far away to tell, and she was in no position to investigate either, her green eyes still fixed on the face of his weyrmate.

[Requiem]

No, no touching. Kalierre was barely in control of herself as it was, teetering between wildly swinging at Savi with her cane - something that would fortunately require her to back up, and no doubt the goldrider could outrun a tired, emotionally overwhelmed cripple - and simply weeping. He was hers...hers...why hadn't they told her? It didn't matter that she couldn't have done any more for him than anyone else. The plague took who it chose, despite their best efforts. It would claim a man in his prime as quickly as a toddler, the disease defying all logic. He looked like a corpse. Barely living. Barely alive. Why hadn't they told her?!

Kalierre yanked her wrist from the woman's grasp, hissing, the control over her voice evaporating and making the words thick. "Let go of me, filth." That was when Dania came to settle upon her, all sweet cooing and nuzzling and... She felt the tears escaping, the dragonhealer backing up, stumbling slightly as she did so, even as she covered her face with one hand. Dania. Sweet little thing. Still here, and too cheerful for K'von to be too bad off, despite...desipte how terrible he looked. Clinging to that hope, she glanced back through the doorway.

Seeing faint movement made her heart catch. Kalierre didn't even think of Savitri - it was too early to feel any remorse, so perhaps that was a good thing - the woman managing to straighten herself and compose her face enough that it was even more surreal to find that the tears just kept coming. Otherwise she seemed...in control. Very odd combination of visual sensations. But her free hand stroked Dania, taking comfort from that touch, and even Lust put aside his usual grumpiness to skitter over to the cot and curl up beside K'von's neck in what was clearly a possessive posture. Chewtoy sick, he commented almost incredulously, poking at the man's jaw with a tiny claw.

Ugly hollow thin, the mandyr added. He made a little distressed sound and moved closer to drape himself over K'von's neck. There. Nothing could get him now! (Chewtoy wasn't his absolute favorite, but he was Lust's, which meant he wasn't going to let any nasty sickness steal him. Besides, His would be very upset and that was always most inconvenient to the bronze.)

Something like a small smile twitched at Kali's mouth, but mostly she was just...dismayed at the closer look. How was he even still breathing? Her weyrmate hardly looked capable of moving, so wasted he was. She sunk to her knees beside the cot, the cane, forgotten, left to clatter to the ground beside her. Her hand brushed the hair from his face, and she mentally winced at how much his cheeks had sunken, at the facial hair that made it painfully clear how long he'd be suffering. And without her knowledge. Kalierre's hand fell away, head falling onto her arms, the sobs no longer capable of being held back.

What was the point of being a healer...when you couldn't even protect the one you loved from things like this?

[kysseh]

Most of the lingering resentment that Savitri had for Kalierre's lack of gratitude evaporated at the sound of the older woman's voice. Kalierre sounded on the brink of absolute hysteria. She did not bother to fight the rough removal of her hand, instead just staying against the wall as K'von's little green firelizard proceeded to shower the greenrider in affection. Then the older women covered her face, and Savitri had to strongly resist the urge to comfort her, shocked that the normally unflappable woman was reduced to... well, obviously tears.

And tears, there were. Dania had gone from excitement to worry and was now creeling, rubbing her little head along Kalierre's jaw in an unmistakable show of comfort and affection. She wasn't supposed to cry! Happy! She was supposed to be happy, a fact which Dania attempted to emphasize by lapping what sticky tears she could reach off the dragonriders face. The woman needed to go tend to her humanpet and not drip salty water from her eyes, see? She twittered softly, fluttering her little wings as the greenrider seemed to finally head in the right direction. Yes, that way! That way! See, he was awake!

Sort of.

The little green was unbothered by Lust investigating Hers, mostly because he seemed to be being nice to her humanpet. She instead focused on the distraught greenrider, shamelessly rubbing against the woman and enjoying the rare affection. Hers had been sickly and not able to pet her, but she did not mind that. He would pet her later, she knew, but his green had to stop being sad and make him better first. Wouldn't she do that?

Savitri quietly followed Kalierre into the room, carefully shutting the door behind them both. Despite the fact that the greenrider seemed to be trying to hold it together, it was not going as well as perhaps was hoped. This was not something for public exhibition, and the closed door would prohibit an audience. She knelt carefully beside the weeping healer, resting her hand on Kalierre's upper back in a wordless gesture of comfort. Dania was similarly trying to comfort Kalierre, but the goldrider was of the opinion that their efforts counted for very little. Still, it was just wrong to let her weep on her own. She would wait, instead watching as Dania hopped from Kalierre's shoulder to K'von's chest, the flitter's noise becoming sweet coos as the brownrider's eyelids finally cracked open. Awake. Awake.

Awake but... so tired. K'von was hazily aware of the fact that there was something on his neck. He could also see a fuzzy outline of Dania making her familiar sweet noises at him. Dania. Had someone cared for her? She looked a bit stiff, his Dania. Strange. She was always graceful. He blinked awkwardly, letting his gaze drift over the concerned-looking goldrider (and ewwww, did she look off-color) and the bowed head of a sobbing woman. Didn't he know that hair? One thin hand flicked a finger at that pretty, pretty hair. Wasn't that Kali? It was, he thought. Ohh, she was a sight for sore and fuzzy eyes. He should tell her. "... neh." Or... not.

[Requiem]

Licking at her tears? Silly creature. Silly, adorable creature. If she was any bigger, Kalierre might have cuddled her, just because this was exactly something Phremath would have done. Are you mad at me? the green whispered to her disconsolately. The dragonhealer didn't immediately respond. He was so upset...that he'd make you sick. No one wanted to distress him further. The green? Conniving enough to pick and choose which reasons to give Hers? Apparently she was, when it was for a good cause

You still could have told me. More distress than ire, behind the words. You would have gone. If I could have done anything... You did. You kept the infirmary running. The death count would have been much higher...

Alerted to Savitri's approach by Lust's quiet hiss, Kalierre attempted to stifle her tears. What was the girl still doing here? Wasn't it bad enough that she'd kept this secret for so long, without sitting there and bearing witness to the dragonhealer's distress. Kali hated showing weakness. Hated that Savitri already knew so much of her other weaknesses, and now she saw her weeping, too. Only K'von was allowed to see this sort of thing with anything resembling grace from Kalierre. Only K'von. Lust's hiss increased in volume, though he didn't move from his protective position.

I'm sorry Phre. It's just...it's just... He's yours. ...yes. Kalierre had managed to at least stop the sobbing, even if the tears wouldn't stop, the woman's head coming up slightly as she peered past her hair, towards the man that Dania had just landed on. An irrational part of her wanted to shoo the firelizard from his chest, lest he break. His hand. Shards, even his hand. Kalierre was flashing back twenty turns, to another similarly wasted hand, and the fear built back up again. She clutched at his hand, grip firm but gentle just the same, leaning forward to rub her cheek along the back of it.

Feeling him, his warmth. Life. Yes. Still alive, by some miracle. "It's okay, love. It's okay," she murmured, though she wasn't sure if she was really talking to K'von at all, or maybe just trying to convince herself. The dragonhealer kissed his fingertips lingeringly, sprinkling his hand with the tears that refused to stop. Lust whined and curled tighter. Savitri was entirely forgotten. Or maybe she simply didn't matter. Kalierre wanted to throw herself on top of K'von, to keep him here, as if that would somehow prevent the illness from taking him, but he was so fragile. So very fragile.

Phremath burrowed her head against Dohulth. I don't think we should tell her that he's actually doing much better now, she told him, her concern clear in her tones. I'd hoped she wouldn't find out so soon.

[kysseh]

Savitri felt like an uncomfortable third, watching the emotional scene play out before her. She was not wanted here. Lust’s hiss made that abundantly clear, and she was sure that he was doing no small amount of channeling of Kalierre’s own preferences on the matter. She chose to not let it bother her too much, instead opting for the safe option of retreat. K’von seemed to be awake and largely unconcerned with her own presence, though she saw his dark eyes focus on her face with something resembling acknowledgment. He knew she had cared for him. Still, those eyes seemed mostly meant for his weyrmate, and he seemed a bit worried. Yes, best if she left them be.

After wordlessly touching Kalierre’s shoulder, the goldrider got to her feet and quietly slipped from the room, waylaying the first apprentice that chanced by her. “Patient is resting. Leave them be. The firelizard will alert you if there’s a problem.” There. It was probably an unnecessary measure, considering the junior apprentice gave her a look that spelled how clearly the young man knew which patient was in that room. Hmph. Well, an audience wasn’t required, so hopefully, it would give the pair a bit of peace.

K’von made a small noise as the goldrider left, though he was more concerned with the fact that Kalierre was crying. Oh, why was she crying? Was she ill?! The brownrider twitched his fingers as she rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand, her eyes drifting over her face. She was upset, and it pained him. He blinked slowly and made a motion that implied he would try to sit up. That got him about half an inch off the pillow before he flopped back down, groaning weakly at his own inability to do anything. She was talking to him, trying to reassure him, but it only made him more concerned.

Her tears wet his hand, and their combined concern was making Dania quiver on his chest. The flitter creeled again, bewildered as to why neither of the pair were happy. “Shhh... no cry,” the brownrider slurred softly, though which of the females that was directed at was unclear. He’d settle for having them both hear. “No cryin’….” His other hand he lifted from his side, with great effort, resting it very lightly on his chest beside his flit. “D’neeea, s’okay,” he murmured, twitching his fingers against the little green and receiving instant gratification when she rubbed up against the proffered limb. Now she was happy. That was good. So much crying, he could hardly stand it.

Hello, Fatty. Nice to see that you’re awake. came Dohulth’s sudden greeting, startling K’von enough to give a full-body twitch. The brown immediately withdrew with some apology, but the brownrider tiredly reassured him that all was well, clinging to that mental comfort of the brown’s steady presence. Dohulth, he could sense with amusement, was curled around Phremath and seemed to be loathe to let the green move anywhere. We will not tell her, then. But he is better. He is upset that she and the little cousin cry over him. He is very confused, but that is normal. There was no denying the relief or the amusement in Dohulth’s voice as he spoke to Phremath, one of his wings draping protectively over his cuddlemate. He could not possibly express just how delighted he was that His was awake and being… stupid. Yes, it was getting back to normal, slowly.

[Requiem]

Kalierre jumped at the brush to her shoulder, having utterly forgotten Savitri was even there...but she dismissed the girl just as swiftly as she had the first time. K'von was awake in front of her. Some part acknowledged gratitude that they were being left alone (and she knew that Savitri would be sure they'd remain that way, too, even if Kalierre had shot some rather nasty things her way) but that part went mostly ignored. It was still too new a shock, finding him like this. Particularly after she'd passed the last couple of sevendays cursing him for leaving her to the Flight out of some misplaced hurt pride, and not showing up even once when her work pinned her down here. Of course she hadn't expected him to come into the infirmary, but that he didn't have Phre call her out, if only for a few minutes, had seemed...

To find out that all the anger and spite was completely misplaced - that he'd been just within reach, in pain and deathly ill - was such a blow to her system that she could hardly think straight. The remorse poured out in tears. Remorse and the familiar fear, probably not helped any by the exhaustion that such desperate lack of sleep wrought. It felt like she was helpless to do anything for him all over again. He was getting better though. She had to stop this. It was just...they all really were helpless to do anything but treat the symptoms and hope the patients would be strong enough to fight it off. Many weren't. K'von was out of the worst part. He'd be fine. But...she still couldn't shake that helplessness that so infuriated - terrified - her.

"No, don't...don't move." One of her hands released him long enough to rub at the tears with a sleeve. It took her no considerable amount of effort to regain her feet - in part because she absolutely refused to release K'von's hand, and that made rising distnctly awkward. Finally, the woman slipped into the cot with him. She was hardly afraid of catching the disease, after all. If she was going to come down with it she doubtless already would have. Constant pain and almost no rest, plus constant exposure? Most likely she was immune, because otherwise she would have been a prime candidate.

The leg attached to her injured hip dangled limply over the side of the cot, the woman setting her back against the headboard and lifting his shoulders until she'd managed to pull him into a partially sitting position with her own chest as support for his head. Arranging the pillows to better support his back (any sort of work had a calming effect on her) Kalierre settled for running a hand through his hair. The tears had mostly stopped, but now she just felt drained. "K'von, I'm so sorry. All this time...it never occurred to me you might be here. I was ever so angry at you." Her words came softly. She didn't really even expect him to hear, to be honest...they just needed to be said.

Lust had now taken up residence on Kali's shoulder, clinging to her and rubbing up against her chin, uncharacteristically silent.

Phremath, who had been previously tracing little patterns on Dohulth's hide with her claws, now crooned at him soberly, grateful for how close he pressed and the wing draped over her. Hers was distressed enough that she didn't even consciously admire his wings as she usually did. It is a lot of things, but she is stopping now. Maybe that will be better for him? Phremath added, the slightest note of anxiety behind her words. She was not so good as Dohulth at separating from Hers, even though she knew everything was all right. Dohulth's was awake. Hers needed sleep, yes, and Dohulth's was very weak, but both problems would be fixed in time.

[kysseh]

She seemed so startled, K’von mused, turning his head a bit on the pillow to get a better look at her. Kalierre was rarely so skittish or emotional. The time after the Siege had been different, and he had scarcely minded holding her if she was upset or in pain. Had touching her then increased the pain? Perhaps, and for that, he had felt guilty. But he had needed to touch and hold her, needed to feel as though she was alive and warm and real in his arms. It seemed she now felt the same way, and K’von, even only minimally conscious and terrified of sickening her as he was, could not blame her. It was nice to see her, nice to let her touch his hand. She really did need to be careful, though. He didn’t want to cough on her or anything.

Even grateful to see her as he was, though, he could scarcely lie still while she climbed onto the cot and rearranged their bodies so as to prop him up against her chest. He tried helping, actually, one hand braced on the bed below him while the other remained in Kalierre's grip. His efforts probably hindered more than they helped, but it made him feel slightly less fragile, even when he finally sagged against her in exhaustion. Even those small movements wearied him, and while he wanted to pet Dania, who had clung to his shoulder throughout the motion, he simply couldn't manage to lift the hand to do it. Instead, the flitter, recognizing this, curled at the junction of his neck, cooing sweet things and bombarding him with feelings of love and adoration. It felt nice, actually. Cozy. K’von decided that staying like this for a bit would certainly not hurt.

Her words sounded rather vague in his ear, and K’von was silent for a moment, just mulling them over as he struggled to keep his breathing even. Even that small effort had made his lungs work overtime, and he coughed once, lightly. It ached, and he made a small face, wondering if it was possible to nestle himself against her and hold her at an arm’s length at the same time. After deciding that it wouldn’t work, the brownrider cleared his throat and managed to croak out a response to what he had thought she said. It was hard to pay attention. “Not angry. Didn’t want… you sick. Made Dohulth be quiet,” he informed her, free hand lifting to rub at his eyes. Everything was blurry, though the picture was gradually sharpening. He liked this, though seeing her face would have been nicer. Maybe then she’d know that he wasn’t angry with her. Why would he be angry? “No crying…? Makes me feel like… mean.” Eloquent as ever, K’von was, and he punctuated his statement with a rough cough that echoed up from the depths of his chest.

Dohulth could sense Phremath’s anxiety, and though he wished she would continue tickling him with her claws (as it was a most welcome distraction), he could scarcely deny her comfort when she needed it. His head rubbed affectionately along her neck as he uttered a gentle croon, obviously intending to soothe her. He is happier when they do not cry. But he still worries about getting her sick, even though he likes her being there. I do not think he can make up his own mind. The waves of confusion and general befuddlement that were coming from K’von were actually not too different from the normal, and hearing His having slightly odd thoughts was comforting to Dohulth. No more nightmares. He had hated those. …would Yours be willing to accept my apology for not telling her?

K’von could sense Dohulth’s relief and gratefully (and silently) pressed his mind against the brown’s, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile as he sensed just what the brown was up to. Snuggling with Phremath again, that dirty brown wherry. He wondered if the brown had been doing that since he got sick. He did catch a stray thought involving a rock, but.. ah well, he would ask later. Smiling made him remember that his mouth was horribly dry, and his head turned, gaze fixating on the mug and pitcher of water left on the table beside his bed. Could he reach? Maaaaaybe, and he tried to not elbow Kalierre’s in his efforts to get to it. Weak efforts, but he was thirsty. “Sorry. Nee’ water,” he mumbled, hoping she understood that he was not just ignoring and leaning on her to be rude.

[Requiem]

Kalierre laughed. "Why would you be angry at me?" Actually, he had every reason to be angry with her after her little - whatever it was - with R'wign, but since she didn't see that as a reason to be angry, it simply was put to the side. The woman could understand anger for her attitude and things like that, just not sleeping around. Sex wasn't an expression of love to her and never would be. It was...an activity. In fact, it was an activity that had lost most of its luster with anyone but K'von, which was why she'd been chaste as long as she had after arriving at Selenitas. Kalierre liked him, liked how he made her feel, and her practical side was only compounded the insecurity regarding her crippled state. She'd just taken his care as pity, or perhaps possessiveness. Kalierre didn't understand love on an instinctual level, like most people did.

But seeing him like this now...feeling how close he must have been to being lost to her forever...knowing that helplessness that she'd known as a child...the inability to protect, to fix. Kalierre didn't ever want him to hurt, didn't want him to suffer, didn't want...for the first time she understood it...for him to look at anyone else. To see anyone else or want anyone else. Because...well...that meant that he might choose them over her, and she'd be left with nothing but a memory made painful by the loss. She'd called him 'love' for turns, but for the first time she understood what it was. How jealous and subtle and strong it could be. It was frightening, in a way, but how could you fight it? How indeed?

Chewtoy no die? The dragonhealer snorted at Lust. "No, I won't let him. If i have to kick him back into health." Is good. Like Chewtoy. The woman merely shook her head. Lust greenQueen go cold. That was right, wasn't it? Vanity was gone...but so much had happened recently that she hadn't really thought about it. Partly because Lust wasn't particularly torn up. Need new greenQueen. Chewtoy mandyr pet, chewtoy green mandyr pet, Lust chase. Make queen. Firmary big...keep from flappy gold. Only the bronze would think to take a mate simply to make sure Ellie didn't take his infirmary from him.

"I don't know if K'von really wants a green salamandyr, Lust," the dragonhealer commented, amused. Why? Lust need new greenQueen. Chewtoy like Lovepet. Is perfect. "We'll think about it." The bronze mandyr crooned, as if he thought that her saying that ensured he'd get his way. It was quite inconvenient to not have a partner in crime to defend his infirmary from the evil one anymore. Quite inconvenient.

At K'von's stirring, Kalierre blinked at him, then reached over to the stand next to her, managing to pour enough of the water into the glass without spilling it that he might actually get a decent drink. The woman pressed the glass into his hand, perhaps understanding on some level that people needed to do as much for themselves as they were capable of. "Just don't drink it to fast. You don't want to vomit it up." Her hand ran through his hair again. "And no more crying. I promise. It just surprised me. You shouldn't keep things like this from me, you know."

Seems she finds it funny that you're apologizing, Phremath responded after a moment, a tad bashfully. Would he be upset that Hers was laughing at him? Oh. She says that you were just doing what Yours told you to. The green nosed at his tail, wondering how much she could fit in her mouth. Now that Kali was calming, she was feeling a bit more playful again. Lust wants Yours to get a little green female Lust so he can make her his mate, Phremath added cheerfully.

[kysseh]

Why, indeed, would he be angry?

K’von was not sure. He was upset that she was possibly making herself sick by being near him, but that was not the same as being angry. He let himself lean fully against her, exhaling mightily. Her laughter should have bothered him a bit, mostly because the sting of her sleeping with R’wign was still fresh in his mind. Honestly, though, he could not summon up the energy to be mad. In fact, all he could do is nestle himself closer to her, grateful for the fact that she would hold him. The healers treating him had never been unkind. In fact, the fuzzy bits he could remember told him that they had all been very kind. His lips quirked slightly. “No’ angry. Angry a’ me?” He hoped she was not angry for him bossing Dohulth into not saying anything. They needed little more to fight about.

He faintly heard Kalierre having a conversation of sorts, though it only dawned on him what the topic was when his name came up in the accompaniment of the words ‘green salamandyr.’ The brownrider twitched. “No ‘mandyr,” he mumbled softly, letting his eyelids close for just a moment. Those simple words would probably be followed up by an emphatic ‘no’ and an explanation when he felt better. Right now, he was just too tired. Though, when she pressed the glass of precious water into his hand, he perked up almost immediately. Wonderful, beautiful, intelligent Kalierre. Her lecture was met with a bit of a smile, and he gratefully pressed the mug to his lips, carefully taking down the precious liquid by sips. He took his time, making a small noise of contentment as he felt her hands stroking through his hair. Were he in a better frame of mind, he would have cared that he hadn’t bathed in a bit. For a moment, though, he was hard-pressed to summon up a great deal of care on that matter.

“Thank you,” he managed once the glass was empty, letting his hand and the empty glass rest in his lap. Against his neck, Dania cooed happily and rubbed her head on his cheek, her tiny tail curling around his neck. Between her adoration, his weyrmate’s attention, and the water, he felt a great deal more alert. He was still exhausted, but the world seemed infinitely more… present and less dream-like. A relief, to be sure. His head tilted back slightly, his eyes seeking to find her face. “Didn’t want you sick…” he said finally, his voice quiet but stronger now that his throat did not feel quite as horrid. His hand managed to lift again, leaving the glass in his lap as his hand sought to touch her face. “… Kali? Love you. Know that, righ’?” The effort of speaking brought up another round of coughs, and he was forced to lean more of his weight than he wanted against her. Shards, but he was exhausted.

Dohulth was slightly surprised by the touch to his tail, and the brown inclined his head, watching Phremath with undeniable curiosity. Hmm, what was she up to? He twitched his tailtip, just to tease her, though he did do her the politeness of listening. It wouldn’t do to ignore what she had to say, after all. I am glad that Yours is not upset. the brown replied with undeniable relief. Mine would like very much to not get a little green female Lust-thing. I am not sure why it makes him so nervous, but… it makes him unhappy. I will ask him. While Dohulth was amused at K’von’s expense by the answer, the brownrider had only two words to say aloud: “No bottom.” Clearly, this was not appealing to him.

[Requiem]

Little green Lust-things can be very annoying, Phremath stated seriously, meeting his eyes...around a mouthful of tail. It took a bit of effort for her to lift his tail, as he was a much larger dragon than her, and she was careful of her teeth. Never once breaking eye contact, she tugged at it lightly, a playful glint entering into the calm colors swirling in her eyes. Got you.

"Why would I be angry at you, K'von?" the woman asked, genuinely confused. He'd done nothing wrong. Even trying to hide this from her...feverish patients could hardly be blamed for their poor decisions. (Actually, she normally did blame them, but she was too relieved in this case to snipe at him.)

Continuing to play with his hair - oily though it was - the woman tugged at it gently. "Shh. Humor him for now. He'll forget soon enough." Lust growled low in his throat at the plotting humans, even though she spoke too softly for him to hear. He knew something dastardly was being planned against him and most definitely was not amused.

The hand against her face was surprising but welcome, Kalierre turning her head into it and kissing the palm gently, one hand coming up to hold it in place. A peaceful weariness was beginning to settle over her, one that K'von's warmth only helped to hasten along. "Yes. I know." She released his hand long enough to lean down, kissing his eyelids lightly, her hands running over face, chest, shoulders. Assuring herself that he was here. Kalierre kissed him gently, playing with his upper lip. "You're all I need. Just don't leave me K'von. Don't leave me."

Fingers laced through his as Kalierre straightened, leaning back against the wall. So weary.

[kysseh]

Dohulth could have helped her to lift his tail, but... that would have spoiled her fun. Instead, he tilted his head and watched the green carefully hold his tail in her mouth, crooning softly in amusement. Phremath seemed to be suitably entertained, and that pleased him. With His being on the way to wellness, the brown was far more relaxed... as well as far more able to enjoy the green's company and mourn the loss of an opportunity to Chase. Hmph. There would be other Chases. He would try next time, he would. You got me, indeed. I will never escape. The words could have seemed overly dramatic had his tone not been one of amusement, his eyes whirling playful blue-greens. One of his wings extended to shade Phremath from the sun. Look, a dark green! The wing then withdrew. Light green... And extended. Dark green.

K'von could sense his dragon's playful antics, and he coughed out a soft laugh, though it was poorly timed. Oblivious to this, the man returned to lying quietly in her arms, comforted greatly by the physical contact. She wasn't angry at him. This was... certainly good. His mouth twitched into a smile at her whispered statement concerning the little bronze menace, and he let out a small sigh of relief at the fact that she wouldn't push the matter. Having a green salamandyr did not appeal to him, for all sorts of varying and uncomfortable reasons. Besides, he had Dania, who was a joy and a loving headache all at the same time.

Said headache was uncoiling herself from his neck to stand on his shoulder, her little forepaws braced against Kali's chest as she attempted to get a look at the growly creature. Ohhh, it was the bronze thing. What was he mad about? Surely, he was getting enough attention, wasn't he? She cooed sweetly and extended her nose towards the bronze 'mandyr, obviously attempting to be affectionate. Poor little growly-thing. He needed to be happy. Hers was well, and Hers was happy, and His was happy, so why was he growly?

Under normal circumstances, Kalierre's touch would have been arousing, and he would have returned the favor in kind. Now, however, a portion of K'von's mind recognized with amusement that that was the last thing on his mind as he instead just moaned happily and patiently allowed the caresses to continue. He was mildly alarmed at the kiss to his hand, though, and he squirmed as she pressed a kiss to his lips, letting out a sound that could have been a whine. "No' leaving. No kisses. You'll get sick..." he mumbled up at her, huffing in frustration. Still he couldn't deny how nice it was.

When she seemed to lean back, lounging against the wall behind them, the brownrider craned his neck around to try to get a look at her. Even though he was really in no position to lecture about looking like living death, Kalierre was certainly not the picture of perfect health either. She looked... exhausted. Worn out. Overworked? Not that any of this was unusual, but it upset him to see it. "Sleep, greenie. Go t' sleep," he soothed her quietly. No need for them both to be awake and miserable. He would be falling asleep soon anyway, as he felt his eyes starting to fall closed. Sleeepy.

[Requiem]

Another, slightly harder tug, the green coiling herself around in a way that gave her a bit more leverage on the tail. Not going to let you escape, Dohulth, the green responded, amused. Never ever. There was just a hint of seriousness behind the words, though it was hard to tell... Phre often thought, honestly, that her weyrmate was more the attachment to KaliHers' weyrmate than hers. He was pleasant enough, but most dragons were. And he never Chased. Not after the first time. That the green remembered that would likely surprise everyone, but she remembered when Hers became her. She always remembered when Hers became her.

Wanting to touch the wing opening and closing above her playfully, Phremath crooned around the mouthful of tail instead. You keep changing me, she added cheerfully. If it pleased him to play in such a way, she'd oblige. Even though she wasn't so young anymore to actually believe it, and her amusement was more that he'd do it at all rather than at the action itself.

By now Kalierre was well-used to Dania's seeming obsession with her chest. Said chest was rather diminished of late, admittedly, after - was it a couple of months? - living in the infirmary for so long. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, if she was truly honest with herself. Sometime yesterday someone threw something at her, she thought. That she wasn't hungry now only meant she hadn't been eating. Hrm.

Lust sniffed at the firelizard skeptically. Yes, he claimed her because she was Chewtoy's, but he wasn't altogether fond of flitters. The bronze coiled around Kali's neck, putting her between him and the happy little menace.

"Don't be silly," Kalierre responded softly, smoothing the hair from his brow. "If I was going to get sick, I already would have. You think you could keep it from me? I lived and breathed the plague..." And probably gave it to K'von, however indirectly, before she began staying at the infirmary entirely without returning to their weyr. The acknowledgment stung.

Shaking her head, her nose wrinkled, the expression all too youthful. "No. Don't want to sleep." But his warmth and the low rumble of his voice weren't doing much for overcoming her exhaustion and, despite herself, she felt herself drifting. No, no, if she fell asleep, he might leave her then. He wouldn't leave her if she just...closed her eyes...for a minute, though. Right? Just a minute...

The dragonhealer was asleep almost instantly, fingers still claiming his hand.