Unable to Ignore

Writers: Rochelle
Date Posted: 2nd June 2007

Characters: Tatitem, Jataire, Susha, J'ritem, M'nex, N'clyar
Description: Tatitem is called away from her weyr to deal with her son's depression.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 24 of Turn 4

"Jataire, your mommy will be back in a little while." Tatitem promised the
falling face of her granddaughter as Jatati walked quickly down the
corridor. "Come and give grandma a hug."

Reluctantly, the six-turn-old trotted over and dutifully hugged her
grandmother. Tati swept the little girl into a warm hug, and then took her
hand to lead her deeper into her weyr. She was watching Jataire while her
mother took an extra shift in the infirmary to help with the dragonriders
who'd been injured in the Dolphin Cove fall.

"Susha, can you pour some juice for Jataire?" She asked her last
fosterling while her granddaughter clamored into a chair, clutching her
stuffed canine with a look of dejection. Susha nodded, and a moment later
came back with a cup of juice and a cold bubbly pie from the last batch of
the day. Jataire's eyes lit. Susha always brought a pastry or two back to
the weyr at the end of the day for Tati to try, but Tati didn't mind
surrendering her pastry to her granddaughter.

"Mum, do you know where your sewing basket went? I need a needle." Susha
asked as she handed over the juice and pastry to Jataire.

"Under my bed. I was darning some socks for J'ritem this morning." Tati
explained.

As if her words were a signal, there was a knock on the door. Tatitem
frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone else tonight, unless J'ritem decided
to drop in for company. She hadn't seen him for a few days.

It was N'clyar. The scarred bluerider nodded respectfully, looking
nervous.

Tati blinked. "N'clyar? This is a surprise. Do you need something?" She
couldn't for the life of her figure out why he would be on her doorstep
otherwise. He was part of J'ritem's little table of friends, but had
adjusted to his new infirmities far better than her son.

N'clyar cleared his throat, and muttered something. Tati frowned again,
and joined him in the corridor, leaving Susha with Jataire. "What's
happened?"

"It's J'ritem." N'clyar said quietly. "He's having another one of his bad
times. Lecitrith bespoke Inimeth and Djorth and M'nex said to come and get
you."

Shards and shells... "I see." She said briskly. "Where is he?"

"The hall behind the laundry, on the second level."

She nodded, and without a moment's hesitation, set off, saying over her
shoulder. "Ask Inimeth to tell Djorth's rider that I'll be there shortly."

*-*
J'ritem was sitting on the floor where he'd slid, staring into space.
There wasn't any point in looking at anything. There wasn't anything in
the hallway worth looking at. Just rough cut stone, like the wall at his
back. He had a bottle in his hands, but he had yet to drink from it. It
was too much effort. Why bother getting drunk when people would take the
bottle away from him anyway? They always did. And his mother would have
something to say about it. She always did, to almost everything.

}:She loves you. Djorth's loves you. I love you.:{ Lecitrith told him
fiercely, not able to understand her rider's despair but trying
desperately. }:They do not care what you look like.:{

He ignored her. He was getting better at it, although he could hear her
talking frantically to other dragons in a distant echo, and he knew that
someone would come soon. He didn't care anymore. What was the point? He
was a monster in appearance, and useless. Absolutely useless. He couldn't
even take care of his own dragon without help.

}:You are _not_ a monster. You are _not_ useless. And I like when others
help you because you need it.:{ Lecitrith assured him.

He might as well take a drink. There was no reason to, but there was no
reason not to either. His mother didn't like him drinking, but she
wouldn't say anything to him.

"J'ritem."

He heard the voice, but it took him a few moments to register M'nex
kneeling beside him. His fosterbrother. They had grown up together, so he
could always count on him to come when Lecitrith panicked, he thought
dully.

"J'ritem, come on. Don't do this, you know better." M'nex said, gently
peeling his fingers from the bottle. "You hate wine anyway."

He'd been right, he observed dully. The bottle had been taken from him.

More mindless coaxing. M'nex wanted him to move from the floor, somewhere
more comfortable. What was the point? No matter where he went, no matter
who it was, he could always see their reactions to his appearance. He had
not lost enough of his eyesight to miss it. He knew he was nothing more
than a nightmarish reminder of what could go wrong.

}:You are _not_ wrong! You are mine, and I love you.:{

"J'ritem."

He twitched. That voice. He had spent his entire childhood in fear of that
stern tone, rejoiced when it had been directed at someone other than him.
His mother had joined M'nex.

"J'ritem, get off the floor. A bath would do you some good." He blinked,
and his mother's voice came into focus as she bent over to look him in the
eye, grunting a little as her joints protested. She extened her hand, as
if he was a child again. "Come home with me, J'ritem. Like you used to.
You'll feel better after a bath and some sleep."

Her voice was gentler now, more reminiscent of the loving mother he
remembered in odd moments between the orders. Less forbidding. It was
harder to resist her than M'nex. M'nex he could ignore. But he just
couldn't ignore his mother. He had thirty years of responding to her every
noise to prevent him from ignoring her. He wanted to, but he knew he
couldn't.

"J'ritem, can you understand me?"

One way or another, he knew she'd get him out of this hallway. He didn't
know if he wanted to do waht she said or not, but why bother fighting?
She'd have M'nex carry him to her weyr, or find someone else. He might as
well go with her.

"J'ritem, you're getting off this floor one way or another. Would you
prefer your weyr, or mine?" She asked practically.

He was right. There was no point fighting her.

J'ritem was pretty certain that all he'd done was twitch his surrender,
but a moment later M'nex and his mother had hauled him to his feet, and
M'nex had slid under his arm to stand in for the crutches he'd flung down
the hallway. His mother was holding them now., and after watching for a
moment to make sure that M'nex had him well in hand, led the way back to
her weyr.

Last updated on the June 2nd 2007

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Unable to Ignore