A Bone-Deep Ache

Writers: Aaron, Sia
Date Posted: 28th April 2026

Characters: Vianne, I'thralos
Description: Vianne visits I'thralos in the Infirmary
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 12, day 24 of Turn 12

I'thralos

The Infirmary smelled gross.

I'thralos sat up against the infirmary bedding, jaw set, staring at the far wall instead of the steady traffic of healers moving about the infirmary. His leg was bound and braced from thigh to ankle, propped up in a way that pulled uncomfortably at his hip, and every careless movement set a dully, bone-deep ache radiating outward. The pain itself was duller now under the fellis, at least, but it was still dull and persistent.

Vorlogoth was unhurt, and I'thralos heard several well-intentioned healers and weyrlingstaff use 'at least' in that phrase, as if the bronze's vitality mitigated the fact that his own body was broken. The bronze was restless and less-than-apologetic in the barracks, his mind pressing in with insistent loops of }: I didn't-- we were flying-- _you_ were-- :{

It didn't matter much, and Vorlogoth didn't seem to be in any distress that would cause him to throw himself /between/, so I'thralos let him indignantly spiral. It's what he deserved.

The harsh scrape of the curtain being drawn aside broke his reverie. Small feet pattered across the stone and then Ithianne was there, all bright-eyed urgency and barely-contained excitement, clambering up onto the side of his cot as if nothing in the world had changed. "Daddy!"

The breath left him in a quiet rush. He pushed himself up awkwardly despite the immediate protest from his leg and hip, one arm coming around her automatically to hoist her up so she didn't aggravate the splint. "Gentle, gentle," he admonished gently, though there was no real reprimand in it. "You'll have the healers chasing you out."

She only beamed at him, utterly unconcerned.

Vianne came in timidly behind her. She hated how much she felt she was intruding. She hated how much she knew I’thralos did not blame Injustith for this. He could have died. Died! And then that brute would have taken his body away forever between.

At least the brute would have been gone.

“Hey,” she said weakly. “I…” What could she say?

I’thralos didn’t look at her right away.

His attention stayed fixed on Ithianne, one hand smoothing her hair prone to wildness. He pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head as she chattered about the latest thing she was doing in the creche and reached into her little backpack to pull out a well-loved tablet and stylus.

Eventually his gaze did raise. There was a flicker of something there-- too many, layered and indistinct-- that settled quickly into something guarded. "Hey," he echoed. Not unkindly, but not warmly either. Flat. Worn thin. "Don't hover like that. Stay or go."

For half a moment, Vianne almost left. It was difficult to see him like this, especially when she knew how much he did not want to see her. But if she was ever going to earn his forgiveness, she had to start somewhere. She pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed.

“H-how are you… er, that is… are you in much pain?”

"I'll be fine." I'thralos said. "Healers want to keep me under observation for a few days." A beat. "Want to make sure the swelling goes down and seems to be healing right before letting me go back to the barracks. R'ayl or someone is going to have to feed Vorlogoth for a while, I guess. Though he'll be hunting for himself in a few sevendays."

He was lucky, the healers said, that it didn't feel like the bones shattered in the fall. There was still a risk of losing his leg if the damage was worse than they thought, or didn't heal properly. He didn't need to worry them with that, though.

“Would he… let me feed him?” Vianne hated little else more than she hated the idea of feeding that monstrosity. But she wanted to help I'thralos more than she hated the dragon.

I'thralos shook his head. "I wouldn't ask that of you, and R'lor better not, either. He can have one of the littles caretaking. The assistant kids don't have anything better to do."

“I don't have anything better to do, either,” said Vianne. “Anything more important, I mean. I would be… I want to help you.”

I'thralos paused to listen to Ithianne's commentary at what she was drawing. "Fine. _I_ don't think that's a good idea." He said finally. "He's possessive enough as is, and this situation between us isn't helping him calm down."

“R-right. Of course.” Vianne nodded. It made sense, no matter that she hated it. She needed something, some way, some chance to earn her way back toward something resembling forgiveness. “Is there anything else you need? Anything else I can do?”

I'thralos paused again, frowning. "My things." He said finally. "What's in our apartment, that didn't go to the barracks with me. I'm going to need them packed up for when we're moved into a weyr."

“O-of course.” But then, she realized. “Y-your… not… not our things?” Shells, was he already ready to be parted from her entirely?

I'thralos shot her a puzzled look. "Yes. Relationships still aren't allowed. Did you think we were really going to play holders like everything's fine?"

“I thought… I _hoped_… How am I ever going to…” Vianne growled with frustration, though she kept the volume low. At last, she asked,

“Do you still love me?”

The question settled into the space between them. Ithianne, thank Faranth, kept chattering, dragging her stylus in looping, uneven lines across the tablet, blissfully unaware of how the air had gone taut.

I'thralos exhaled, trying to tamp down the anger he felt that Vianne would ask something like that in front of her. "It's not that easy." He said finally. "I do. I don't think that just…disappears. But it's not the same. How would you feel if the roles were reversed?"

Oh, how Vianne’s heart raced in that gap between ‘not that easy’ and ‘I do’. Her eyes flitted to Ithianne as well. This was not going to be an easy topic to discuss without upsetting her. But the roles _were_ reversed! That flame-charred dragon had struck the first blow, taken him from her when he had no right.

“Wasn't this always going to happen?” she asked. “If I had Impressed? Won't it happen to you, now, every time he catches a green? Or a gold? And I'll still love you the same.”

"Oh, he's not catching anyone anytime soon." I'thralos said too sharply, more enraged at the thought of Vorlogoth attempting _anything_, "And that's different. There's no choice in mating flights. Say he does catch a green. Say I stuck around afterwards for another round, or she and I hooked up later. Would _you_ be okay with that?"

“How could I say no, now?” asked Vianne. “Would that… would you be willing to forgive me, if I said yes?”

I'thralos huffed. "I want you to be _honest_, Vianne! How would you feel?"

“Honestly? If it was just…” Vianne eyed Ithianne again and then mouthed the word, ‘sex’ at I'thralos, “and you came home to me at the end of the day, I would be happy.”

I'thralos kept his expression carefully neutral as Vianne mouthed the word, though inside something cold and flat settled in the pit of his stomach. He shifted against the pillows, the dull throb in his leg flaring sharply enough to make his jaw tighten. "Well. It bothers me. I can't separate _that_ and the intimacy of it. If that's truly how you feel, then it's better for us to take a step back." His gaze met hers, guarded but not cruel, the layered frustration and hurt evident in his expression. "I still care for you. Deeply. But this changes things in a way I can't set aside. We'll figure out what comes next, but it can't be the same as it was before."

“I- wh- b-...” Vianne stammered. “I’m not asking for you to just… let this go. I’m not asking for you to let this be the new normal. I don't want to be with anyone else but you. All I’m saying is that if things were reversed, and you were in my position, I would forgive you. I know you can’t just trust me again now. But… are you saying you can’t _ever_ trust me again?”

"I don't know. I really don't." I'thralos said. "But I can't pretend that everything's fine, that we can go back to how we were. Shards, Vee, I spent that entire hatching feast thinking about how I never wanted this, how I'm losing everything I worked so hard for. I survived the Printer Hall being destroyed _twice_. And I took your dream on top of that. And where were you? With someone else."

He sighed, then shifted Ithianne uncomfortably in his lap. "Hey, Anne. I'm not feeling very well. I think we'll have to pick this up next time. Gramma will bring you tomorrow, what do you think?"

I’thralos did not take Vianne’s dream. Injustith did. By the first egg, how she wanted to scream it at the big bronze lug, but she could not. Not then. Not with Ithianne there, not with I’thralos hurt.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. What else was she going to say? “I’ll get your things to your weyr.”
I’thralos didn’t answer her apology, only nodding once-- short, exhausted-- helping Ithianne down from the cot with careful hands, hiding the flare of pain in his leg. “Go on,” he murmured, smoothing her hair. “Be good for your mother.” He watched her take Vianne’s hand without hesitation, that easy trust twisting something tight in his chest, and when Vianne lingered he didn’t look at her. The curtain fell closed behind them, and the infirmary felt emptier for it; Vorlogoth’s restless, untroubled presence brushed faintly at his mind while the dull ache in his body settled beneath something heavier.

Last updated on the May 3rd 2026

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A Bone-Deep Ache