Worse For The Wear
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Bree, Dana
Date Posted: 4th November 2005
Characters: Ar'lis, Abrei
Description: Ar'lis goes to see Abrei after Vilarth's flight.
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 9, day 3 of Turn 3
Abrei did her best not to look surprised when Ar'lis settled into the chair across from her desk. The bronzerider looked like he'd been in a fight...
bruises, scratches, and what she was fairly sure were teeth marks on his neck. Abrei had seen her share of mating flights over the turns, but she'd rarely seen someone come out of one looking like this. "You look worse for the wear, bronzerider."
"And I feel it, Abrei." It was the admission he hadn't even been able to give Lenala.
She had basic supplies in her office, enough to deal with scratches and bruises. She gestured for him to take off his tunic without saying anything, setting her features to avoid showing any emotion when she saw just how bad he looked. "You look like you had a little too much excitement."
"Excitement isn't how I'd describe it," he told her, hissing a little through his teeth as the scratches pulled and stretched as he moved.
"Are you all right, Ar'lis?" she asked in a quiet voice as she tended the scrapes. There were a few on his back that were deep enough to look highly uncomfortable, and it made Abrei wonder for the first time just how much more intense mating flights were for the winners.
No. He hurt. He ached. And he was more shaken than he ever cared to admit to _anyone_. Ar'lis closed his eyes, grateful that she couldn't see his face as he ground his teeth against the sharp sting of ointment being smoothed onto tender flesh. "I will be, Abrei," he replied, his voice just as quiet.
Abrei sighed and tended to the scratches for a few moments before speaking again. "I understand not talking to me, but maybe you should talk to somebody, Ar'lis."
Silence stretched between them for a time before he spoke, his voice still unnaturally quiet, "It wasn't supposed to happen this way." He shook his head to himself, rubbing at his brow. "Flights aren't supposed to be like this one was, Abrei."
"What happened?" She was good at that soothing tone of voice, the one she always used with patients. But underneath, barely audible, was the slightest hint of temper. She might not spend much time with Ar'lis, but she'd always been fond enough of him... and she'd never been in the least bit fond of Lenala. Whatever had happened between the two of them had hurt Ar'lis, and Abrei wasn't a particularly forgiving sort.
"It was rape, Abrei."
Abrei's hand froze. It took a moment to set the ointment aside, and then she walked around the chair to stand in front of Ar'lis, meeting his gaze squarely. "I want you to talk to U'val." It was harder than she'd imagined to get the next words out, but she knew her job. "And Lenala? Is she..."
His eyes flickered at the mention of her. "That's why I came here in the first place. I need you to go... to go look at her. You'll be needing that," he said, his tone a bit harsh as he pointed to the ointment.
"Oh." The temptation to send someone else to deal with the goldrider brought instant shame... but the thought of dealing with Lenala in the same sort of state Ar'lis was in... it was uncomfortable on far too many levels.
Unfortunately for Abrei, her job had little to do with her own comfort. She tended to the scrapes on Ar'lis' shoulders in silence, then met his eyes again. "I wasn't making a suggestion, bronzerider. You will see U'val. I want us clear on this."
But would it really help? Too sharding tired to argue with the Weyrhealer, Ar'lis just nodded. "Fine."
It took only a few moments to place bandages over the ointment to avoid messing up his clothing. She retrieved his tunic and handed to him wordlessly, unsure what to say. Her training in mind healing had been all but nonexistent--brilliant she might have been, but none of her teachers had been under the misconception that she knew the first thing about emotions--or was likely to be able to learn.
It was easy enough to gather up the things she needed. She kept a bag for just such times in her office, and by the time he'd pulled his tunic on, she was ready. Physically, at least. Emotionally, there was nothing she wanted less to be doing.
But she nodded anyway. "Let's go."
Last updated on the November 4th 2005