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So why exactly DO you want to know? (Idri/S'ryll)


Nutmeg
 

Oh she had heard all about the Bronzerider from High Reaches that had come to Arolos of late. And a few whispers suggested that he had upset the wrong person and been kicked out on his ear. And she had heard it directly from the runner's mouth... a.k.a Tyne... that there was history with this particular man. A lot of it.

She hadn't told Tyne that she intended to locate this individual, sit him down and find out exactly what his intentions were towards her former charge. She might not be Tyne's minder anymore, but Idri was still fiercely protective of her and still considering to be the responsible point of contact. For now at least. It hadn't been hard to find out where this "Bronzerider S'ryll" had his weyr and so that was exactly where she was headed. The woman was striding purposefully through the tunnels, picking her way through the familiar routes.

So lost was she, in the thoughts of what exactly she was going to say to the man, that she didn't notice the shape of someone stepping out from around a corner and went straight into the side of them.

"Ah!"

--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

Vastolth had buggered off to sun himself and was adamantly refusing to come pick S'ryll up off his weyrledge unless it was an emergency.  This was not the first time this had happened, and S'ryll was beginning to think it was going to be a problem.  Vastolth had muttered something about 'legs' before simply projecting sunny contentment like it was a wall.  

S'ryll was thus forced to use the tunnels leading out of his weyr.  It's not as if it was a total pain, but he didn't like being told to do so by his dragon.  He was still muttering about this to himself when a woman came around a corner and ran straight into him.  As they stumbled, he reached out to catch and steady her.

"Whoa! You alright?" he asked as they both got their feet back under them.  


Nutmeg
 

Staggering back a couple of steps, Idri took a moment to compose herself. She was feeling just prickly enough that she almost wanted to snap at the Bronzerider before remembering she had also been rushing along without paying attention either. Taking a second to smooth herself over and bring her temper in check, Idri looked up at the man.

"Flaming flits and shards," she grumbled before her manners came back. "Are you all right too sir? I didn't mean to jostle you. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing." She bobbed a polite curtsey out of habit. S'ryll would recognise the Northern twang in her voice, even if she didn't recognise him. Or know he was in the fact the person she was looking for in the first place.

"It serves me right for thinking about what I need to do instead of what I'm doing. I have't muddied you have I? These tunnels can get so dusty."

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 3:25 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
Vastolth had buggered off to sun himself and was adamantly refusing to come pick S'ryll up off his weyrledge unless it was an emergency.  This was not the first time this had happened, and S'ryll was beginning to think it was going to be a problem.  Vastolth had muttered something about 'legs' before simply projecting sunny contentment like it was a wall.  

S'ryll was thus forced to use the tunnels leading out of his weyr.  It's not as if it was a total pain, but he didn't like being told to do so by his dragon.  He was still muttering about this to himself when a woman came around a corner and ran straight into him.  As they stumbled, he reached out to catch and steady her.

"Whoa! You alright?" he asked as they both got their feet back under them.  



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

S'ryll dusted himself off, sighing at the idea that this was just how his morning was going to go.  First a dragon that couldn't be bothered.  Now women were running into him.  If they ran into his bed, he'd complain less.  

He chuckled at her grumbled curse, finishing smoothing out his leather tunic, as the oddity of her words struck him.  She had a Reaches accent!  It hadn't struck him at first because he was still adjusting to that NOT being the normal.  He eyes shot up to inspect her.  There was something familiar about her.  Healer's knots.  He'd been in and out of the Infirmary a few times, the Threadscoring on his shoulder twinging as if on command.  

"You're from the Reaches!" he said, as if it was an accusation, and he effectively ignored her other questions.  


Nutmeg
 

"I am..." It was said a little warily and she eyed him as if wondering where he was going with this. Which was of course exactly what she was doing. She had seen enough people in and out of the Infirmary that she didn't place him specifically, even though his own voice placed his accent as being the same as her own. "I'd say you were too."

Her voice was a non-question too, pointing out the obvious.

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 3:55 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
S'ryll dusted himself off, sighing at the idea that this was just how his morning was going to go.  First a dragon that couldn't be bothered.  Now women were running into him.  If they ran into his bed, he'd complain less.  

He chuckled at her grumbled curse, finishing smoothing out his leather tunic, as the oddity of her words struck him.  She had a Reaches accent!  It hadn't struck him at first because he was still adjusting to that NOT being the normal.  He eyes shot up to inspect her.  There was something familiar about her.  Healer's knots.  He'd been in and out of the Infirmary a few times, the Threadscoring on his shoulder twinging as if on command.  

"You're from the Reaches!" he said, as if it was an accusation, and he effectively ignored her other questions.  



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

"I'd say you were right.  You look familiar too, but then as a Healer, I'm sure I saw you in the Infirmary.  I was treated there a time or two."  He rubbed his shoulder, moving his tunic to the side at his collarbone to show some of the scoring scar.  He let the tunic fall back into place before running his hands through his dark hair, a habit of his, before sticking the other one out to her in greeting.

"I'm Bronzerider S'ryll.  Just transferred here from there not a sevenday ago.  It's good to hear the accent..."


Nutmeg
 

Maybe, just maybe, she would have given some professional interest in the scarring, recognising immediately that it was a threadscore burn. But then he gave his name and Idri was already distracted again. "S'ryll, you say? You're just the man I was looking for. I've been meaning to come and find you and have a chat." There was enough of a clip to her voice to suggest that "no, thank you" wasn't going to be an acceptable response.

She did take the extended hand though, shaking it in firm greeting. She had a Healer's hands that were strong and it would have been reflected in her greeting. "I'm Healer Idri. I'm afraid I don't recognise you - it's nothing personal. Lots of faces coming through and all that."

It was polite after all, to at least acknowledge the greeting. Even if she hadn't decided whether she was going to like the man or not. "Now, where could we go to talk?"

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 4:27 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
"I'd say you were right.  You look familiar too, but then as a Healer, I'm sure I saw you in the Infirmary.  I was treated there a time or two."  He rubbed his shoulder, moving his tunic to the side at his collarbone to show some of the scoring scar.  He let the tunic fall back into place before running his hands through his dark hair, a habit of his, before sticking the other one out to her in greeting.

"I'm Bronzerider S'ryll.  Just transferred here from there not a sevenday ago.  It's good to hear the accent..."



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

Her insistent tone instantly irritated him.  This JM was certainly taking liberties with her address of him and demanding his time.  This was definitely going to be that kind of a morning.  But he'd learned a few things well before he'd come to even be a Candidate: 1. Don't piss off the cook; and 2. Don't piss off a Healer.  Bad things happened if you broke those two sacred rules, never good things.

So it was with a resigned edge to his voice, that he responded.  "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your searching, JM Healer Idri?"  Then to clarify, "No offense taken.  Yours is only vaguely familiar to me in passing.  And yes, my weyr is around the corner if that will suit you.  I'm afraid here I do not have an office, so it is the best I can offer you."  


Nutmeg
 

"Tyne."

It was a single syllable loaded with poignant meaning. Of course, a lot of this abrasive stance was something of a front. A bolster, if you will. Idri was all too aware that if something was serious, you needed to start on a certain foot. And then you could soften up as it was deemed necessary. She bobbed another curtsey of polite acquiescence. "If you'd be so kind to lead the way."  

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 4:49 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
Her insistent tone instantly irritated him.  This JM was certainly taking liberties with her address of him and demanding his time.  This was definitely going to be that kind of a morning.  But he'd learned a few things well before he'd come to even be a Candidate: 1. Don't piss off the cook; and 2. Don't piss off a Healer.  Bad things happened if you broke those two sacred rules, never good things.

So it was with a resigned edge to his voice, that he responded.  "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your searching, JM Healer Idri?"  Then to clarify, "No offense taken.  Yours is only vaguely familiar to me in passing.  And yes, my weyr is around the corner if that will suit you.  I'm afraid here I do not have an office, so it is the best I can offer you."  



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

And that name, ringing through the air between them, was the only word she needed to say.  The change in his demeanor was visible, and his dark eyes instantly stormed over as all the complicated mess of feeling he had for his weyrwoman -- he refused to say 'former' -- rolled over him.

((Vastolth.  Get back here now.))  The voice was insistent and left no room for negotiation.  He could feel the bronze grumbling, but starting to shift his weight and move.  

"Follow me..." he turned away, relieved to face away from her while he composed himself.  Was she going to tell him to leave her alone?  He wouldn't do that, not unless Tyne asked him to, and he would ask for a transfer anywhere at that point to not have to be so close and so far from her again.  Whatever this healer had to say, he was going to make sure that she knew he was there to stay.  

He led her to his weyr.  A sevenday or so had passed -- S'ryll stopped counting the days as they no longer mattered -- and he'd settled in nicely.  It was not, as he'd made it sound, a weyr the size fit for a blue, but nor was it a huge weyr.  Regardless, it was already outfitted as if he'd lived there for a Turn.  The whole thing screamed casual comfort, from the floor coverings, to the small touches in the decor.  It was sparse of 'things,' the little knickknacks that some riders had, but those that were there were nice.  The central table had what was obviously dragon shell on it, the edges cast in silver and made to stand on edge.  A couple paintings even adorned the walls, artist abstracts or some strange perspective of a runner in one, or a dragon in the other.  Fluffy pillow replaced the standard ones on the couch, and a soft blanket was thrown over the back.  And it all fit him, his personality, even at just first glance, so nicely.

"Have a seat where you'd like, Healer Idri," he said as they entered.  He heard dragon wings beyond the chamber, and the bronze gave a rumble to announce his arrival. 


Nutmeg
 

Well, at least he hadn't put up an argument. Not in public at least. But even Idri had been a little perturbed by the shift in his expression and was unable to decipher what the darkening of his eyes accounted for. But she had followed complacently, taking a moment to admire the weyr as she stepped in. It was tasteful, surprisingly so. She had seen the interiors of a few weyrs in her time and the higher the rank was, the easier it was to fill it with gaudy tat as an exorbitant flaunting of their wealth.

"It looks like you've settled in well." It wasn't a dig or even remotely close to an insult. It was as close to a compliment as it could be, made all the more evident by the appreciation on her face. She took a seat on the couch, carefully and neatly setting one of the cushions to one side so that she could sit comfortable, albeit a little primly.



On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 5:27 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:

And that name, ringing through the air between them, was the only word she needed to say.  The change in his demeanor was visible, and his dark eyes instantly stormed over as all the complicated mess of feeling he had for his weyrwoman -- he refused to say 'former' -- rolled over him.

((Vastolth.  Get back here now.))  The voice was insistent and left no room for negotiation.  He could feel the bronze grumbling, but starting to shift his weight and move.  

"Follow me..." he turned away, relieved to face away from her while he composed himself.  Was she going to tell him to leave her alone?  He wouldn't do that, not unless Tyne asked him to, and he would ask for a transfer anywhere at that point to not have to be so close and so far from her again.  Whatever this healer had to say, he was going to make sure that she knew he was there to stay.  

He led her to his weyr.  A sevenday or so had passed -- S'ryll stopped counting the days as they no longer mattered -- and he'd settled in nicely.  It was not, as he'd made it sound, a weyr the size fit for a blue, but nor was it a huge weyr.  Regardless, it was already outfitted as if he'd lived there for a Turn.  The whole thing screamed casual comfort, from the floor coverings, to the small touches in the decor.  It was sparse of 'things,' the little knickknacks that some riders had, but those that were there were nice.  The central table had what was obviously dragon shell on it, the edges cast in silver and made to stand on edge.  A couple paintings even adorned the walls, artist abstracts or some strange perspective of a runner in one, or a dragon in the other.  Fluffy pillow replaced the standard ones on the couch, and a soft blanket was thrown over the back.  And it all fit him, his personality, even at just first glance, so nicely.

"Have a seat where you'd like, Healer Idri," he said as they entered.  He heard dragon wings beyond the chamber, and the bronze gave a rumble to announce his arrival. 



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

S'ryll gave her a genuine smile at the compliment, for he heard the tone of appreciation in her voice.  "I like feeling like I'm coming 'home' at the end of the day and to feel calm and relaxed."  It was his sanctuary, but it, like him, was not so pristine as to make it appear cold or un-lived in.  He grabbed a chair, pulling it over towards the couch, sitting on it backwards so his arms where clasped in front of him and resting on the back.  

{{Why am I here?}}

((Because I want you to listen.))

{{I could have done that from where I was!}} came the snorted reply.

((Yes, but I wanted you to focus.))

"Now," he said, his voice and demeanor calm now as he'd prepared himself, "you wanted to discuss weyrwoman Tyne."  He said it as a statement again, but it was her opening.  


Nutmeg
 

As tempting as it was to dive into an outright interrogation, Idri had the manners and common sense to realise that she needed to give a bit of context here. She waited patiently as the Bronzerider made himself comfortable and waited several seconds more before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." She began, speaking carefully. "I have been supporting Tyne for several turns - since she lost her gold - and up until very recently I was her live in minder." Idri paused, giving S'ryll a moment to absorb that. "Whilst she is no longer requiring full time, one on one care, I am still her primary Healer. I have a vested interest in her progress and anything that could risk unsettling the turns of progress that have been made." Idri inspected the man carefully, looking to see how he might respond. "Tyne made me aware that someone she had known previously at High Reaches had come to Arolos. It was clear that this revelation caused her some degree of conflict. I therefore would like to know what your interest in Tyne is and what your intentions are."


On Fri, 10 Apr 2020, 18:50 TrueTricia, <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
S'ryll gave her a genuine smile at the compliment, for he heard the tone of appreciation in her voice.  "I like feeling like I'm coming 'home' at the end of the day and to feel calm and relaxed."  It was his sanctuary, but it, like him, was not so pristine as to make it appear cold or un-lived in.  He grabbed a chair, pulling it over towards the couch, sitting on it backwards so his arms where clasped in front of him and resting on the back.  

{{Why am I here?}}

((Because I want you to listen.))

{{I could have done that from where I was!}} came the snorted reply.

((Yes, but I wanted you to focus.))

"Now," he said, his voice and demeanor calm now as he'd prepared himself, "you wanted to discuss weyrwoman Tyne."  He said it as a statement again, but it was her opening.  


TrueTricia
 

He listened as she spoke, describing her affiliation with Tyne.  A flicker of irritation, concern, and perhaps disappointment stole across his face as she told him that he had been the cause of conflict for Tyne, but then, he realized, he already knew that.  The woman hadn't just fainted out of happiness to see him, after all.  Common sense told him that alone indicated her conflict, and it probably had not resolved itself in the candlemark.

But when she asked him his intentions, he chuckled out loud.  "Wed with twenty heirs to make our own wing..." he said, holding up his hand to forestall any objections while he finished his laugh.  "It was a joke between us," he said as way of explanation.  He stood then.  "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, moving off to get himself a cup of water.

He returned, sitting down again, his tone more serious but with an easiness to it in an attempt to convey his honesty.  "weyrwoman Tyne," he said it again to emphasize his respect for her, "and I are friends.  My intentions with her are to rebuild the friendship that we lost when Myrandith was lost.  I understand that she is not the same woman who left me in the weyr the morning of that terrible flight, but neither am I.  I only have her best interests at heart and do not wish to do her harm.  She is, and always will be, a goldrider of Pern, and I will treat her with all the respect due that rank."


Nutmeg
 

"If you have some water, or tea, that would be lovely." Idri waited patiently, waiting for him to return. It gave her time to figure out what that expression had been that dashed across his face when she had told him there had been some upset. It wasn't even on the scale of "upset" that she had seen and it had been minor to say the least. But it had happened. That expression... had that been disappointment she had seen in there? She tucked it away to think about. Plus she wasn't sure she even wanted to ask about that "twenty heirs" joke.

Her eyes had widened slightly and surprise registered on her face as she pushed her hair out of her face. "I think you are the first person I have heard say that. At least out loud. In all the time I have been with her, and I have been with Tyne since... just afterwards... no one has ever referred to her like that." She wasn't going to tell the man - at least not yet - that his obvious deference had just won him a sizeable chunk of gold stars. She settled back in her seat a little, making herself more comfortable. "I don't know the extent of the relationship you had with her - Tyne has never, with the exception of Weyrwoman Wygelle and Weyrleader F'loran, talked about anyone from High Reaches... I don't think it has been personal, I believe it has been a coping strategy." Idri paused, scrutinising S'ryll carefully. "What... exactly do you know about what happened. After, I mean?"

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 7:37 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
He listened as she spoke, describing her affiliation with Tyne.  A flicker of irritation, concern, and perhaps disappointment stole across his face as she told him that he had been the cause of conflict for Tyne, but then, he realized, he already knew that.  The woman hadn't just fainted out of happiness to see him, after all.  Common sense told him that alone indicated her conflict, and it probably had not resolved itself in the candlemark.

But when she asked him his intentions, he chuckled out loud.  "Wed with twenty heirs to make our own wing..." he said, holding up his hand to forestall any objections while he finished his laugh.  "It was a joke between us," he said as way of explanation.  He stood then.  "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, moving off to get himself a cup of water.

He returned, sitting down again, his tone more serious but with an easiness to it in an attempt to convey his honesty.  "weyrwoman Tyne," he said it again to emphasize his respect for her, "and I are friends.  My intentions with her are to rebuild the friendship that we lost when Myrandith was lost.  I understand that she is not the same woman who left me in the weyr the morning of that terrible flight, but neither am I.  I only have her best interests at heart and do not wish to do her harm.  She is, and always will be, a goldrider of Pern, and I will treat her with all the respect due that rank."



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

S'ryll's voice turned a little hard, though it was obviously not directed at her.  "Everyone else is wrong.  She made the ultimate sacrifice for Pern, no matter the circumstances."

He didn't offer her any details of their relationship, but he also noted that the tension and some of the guardeness about her seemed to be melted away slightly.  He listened to her, ignoring her scrutiny of him or the fact that Tyne hadn't mentioned him.  He would have been surprised if she had; he could only imagine how painful that part of her life had been in the beginning, and by the time it wasn't, well, they'd lost touch and he probably wasn't worth mentioning at that point.  

"I know she was devastated, as any of us would be, in the immediate aftermath.  She was sequestered away, and none of us could see her, those of us who cared about her.  I tried to see her, just after, and they wouldn't let me. So there were only the rumors, that she'd tried to kill herself, that she was overcome with the grief."  He shrugged.  "They kept her so far away from where we could see her or sort out the truth.  I know she told me the other day that she had broken -- her words -- and had to put herself back together.  But the details..." he trailed off.  


Nutmeg
 

It was interesting to hear him speak. Whilst she was sure that there were likely some who felt the same, she had never heard it voiced aloud with so much vehemence behind it. Just what was the extent of the relationship? Or rather, what had it been? She had been briefed of course and even knew of the Goldrider. It was well known that the young woman had not been one of those promiscuous types taking any and all to her furs. She had been discreet, selective and there was of course, talk of a select few favourites. Had he been one of them?

The account he gave was passionate, she would give him that. But it was largely misinformed - or rather, was the voice of someone who hadn't known just what had happened behind those closed doors. "Okay, so what I'm going to tell you stays in this room. And I'm only telling you this because it has become apparent that your interest isn't based entirely on your own. And I am going to warn you now, what I say is not pleasant, nor is it easy to hear."

Idri paused, giving herself a moment too.

"You're right, she tried. In the flightroom there was a belt dagger and she used it. But not effectively. You've seen the gloves she wear, no doubt. That is why. She was fellised at the Healer Hall and brought back to High Reaches where she spent the first few days in a fellis induced sleep. When she was brought out she was practically catatonic. Alive but unresponsive. With the exception of violent outbursts where she would slam her arms into walls, bed posts, you name it in an attempt to reopen her wounds. As a result, she had to be restrained." Idri's voice was softer now, but matter of fact and precise. Like she was carefully reading from the medical file that she had all but committed to memory. "If you were to ask her - and I am strongly recommending that you do not - she will not be able to tell you much about the first few days. Or even the first few weeks. Once she was conscious, she would not speak, she would not eat. We had to use a nasal feeding tube in order to keep her from starving..."

Idri paused, giving some of this time to sink in. "Before I continue, you need to understand that we were expressly ordered to keep her contained due to not knowing why the other gold was there. There were concerns that this was a deliberate act of sabotage and as a result, in the immediate aftermath there were some concerns that there might be... an attempt, or attempts... to finish what was started. This is why no one but the Weyrleaders and the Healers were allowed anywhere near her. We did not know who could be trusted." Another pause. "How much of this do you want to know?"

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 8:26 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
S'ryll's voice turned a little hard, though it was obviously not directed at her.  "Everyone else is wrong.  She made the ultimate sacrifice for Pern, no matter the circumstances."

He didn't offer her any details of their relationship, but he also noted that the tension and some of the guardeness about her seemed to be melted away slightly.  He listened to her, ignoring her scrutiny of him or the fact that Tyne hadn't mentioned him.  He would have been surprised if she had; he could only imagine how painful that part of her life had been in the beginning, and by the time it wasn't, well, they'd lost touch and he probably wasn't worth mentioning at that point.  

"I know she was devastated, as any of us would be, in the immediate aftermath.  She was sequestered away, and none of us could see her, those of us who cared about her.  I tried to see her, just after, and they wouldn't let me. So there were only the rumors, that she'd tried to kill herself, that she was overcome with the grief."  He shrugged.  "They kept her so far away from where we could see her or sort out the truth.  I know she told me the other day that she had broken -- her words -- and had to put herself back together.  But the details..." he trailed off.  



--
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Recluso#6042 on Discord

I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 
Edited

"I understand, Healer Idri.  You have my word that I shall never repeat what you tell me here."  He replied, nodding somberly.  "Nothing about what happened to Myrandith and weyrwoman Tyne that day was easy.  I would not expect what happened after to be either."  He may not have been there with her in the days after, but he remembered how it started.  He remembered the flight, Vastolth in the air chasing after.  He and Tyne had talked about that the bronze may not win, and what that would mean.  They'd both vowed to put the Weyr first, and that might mean a Weyrleader other than him.  But she'd be Weyrwoman, and Vastolth could win the next flight... He remembered the room in the Healer Hall given to the riders as a flight room.  He remembered the metallic taste of blood on his lips as he bit them as the fighting began, willing Vastolth back with all his might.  The bronze had tried to help, but had not been still attached whenthe golds started jumping across Pern.  Or when they died.  Vastolth had been injured slightly in the flying mob, and after he broke away, Saere had run outside, calling his beloved bronze back to him.  The bronze had been trembling with pain, lust, and fear when he landed outside the Hall, and S'ryll hadn't even reached him yet when Vastolth broke out into the eerie death keen that meant only one thing.  S'ryll had felt it like an arrow to his heart, his bronze's grief at Myrandith's death striking him hard and fast, and he had fallen to his knees right there and then, collapsed at the base of his dragon, weeping into his own crumpled form.  He hadn't been in the room when Tyne tried to kill herself.  He hadn't seen her after he ran out of the room.  His last memories of her were riddled with flight lust, grief, and guilt.  

These memories all came flooding back at Idri spoke, and for a moment, S'ryll was back there plain as day, the Rim of Fort Weyr in the distance.  Behind him, Vastolth gave a rumble as if to call Saere back to the present.  His eyes were filled with emotion as he looked back at Idri.  His grief had caused him to run from Tyne before, but he would not run from her now.

"Tell me everything..." his eyes wet with emotion but steely in their resolve.


Nutmeg
 

He went somewhere, that was for sure. Of course, she hadn't a clue that he had actually been there. Idri waited patiently. It was clear that whatever was going on in his head was upsetting, even if it weren't for the glisten in his eyes giving him away. Maybe at some point, she would speak to Tyne more - but then again, maybe she wouldn't. Tyne was living independently now and would it really matter to her, Idri, just how well she had known the man she was sitting in front of.

Taking a moment of her own, she took a deep breath before continuing. "In the weeks that followed, when Tyne finally began speaking again, it was clear that she was having significant difficulty separating her identity from Myrandith's. She would speak as if she were Myrandith. She was plagued by horrific nightmares that were a twisted bastardisation of memories - putting her inside Myrandith's head. For a good long while it was not clear just what semblance of Tyne was going to emerge but over time and a lot of work with the Healers and Mindhealers, we began to bring some of Tyne back out." Another pause. "But it became quickly apparent that what needed to be established was Tyne's long term needs. What was going to happen. And most importantly, whether it was going to be possible for her to remain in High Reaches or any Weyr, ever again."

On Fri, Apr 10, 2020 at 10:15 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:

[Edited Message Follows]

"I understand, Healer Idri.  You have my word that I shall never repeat what you tell me here."  He replied, nodding somberly.  "Nothing about what happened to Myrandith and weyrwoman Tyne that day was easy.  I would not expect what happened after to be either."  He may not have been there with her in the days after, but he remembered how it started.  He remembered the flight, Vastolth in the air chasing after.  He and Tyne had talked about that the bronze may not win, and what that would mean.  They'd both vowed to put the Weyr first, and that might mean a Weyrleader other than him.  But she'd be Weyrwoman, and Vastolth could win the next flight... He remembered the room in the Healer Hall given to the riders as a flight room.  He remembered the metallic taste of blood on his lips as he bit them as the fighting began, willing Vastolth back with all his might.  The bronze had tried to help, but had not been still attached with the golds started jumping across Pern.  Or when they died.  Vastolth had been injured slightly in the flying mob, and after he broke away, Saere had run outside, calling his beloved bronze back to him.  The bronze had been trembling with pain, lust, and fear when he landed outside the Hall, and S'ryll hadn't even reached him yet when Vastolth broke out into the eerie death keen that meant only one thing.  S'ryll had felt it like an arrow to his heart, his bronze's grief at Myrandith's death striking him hard and fast, and he had fallen to his knees right there and then, collapsed at the base of his dragon, weeping into his own crumpled form.  He hadn't been in the room when Tyne tried to kill herself.  He hadn't seen her after he ran out of the room.  His last memories of her were riddled with flight lust, grief, and guilt.  

These memories all came flooding back at Idri spoke, and for a moment, S'ryll was back there plain as day, the Rim of Fort Weyr in the distance.  Behind him, Vastolth gave a rumble as if to call Saere back to the present.  His eyes were filled with emotion as he looked back at Idri.  His grief had caused him to run from Tyne before, but he would not run from her now.

"Tell me everything..." his eyes wet with emotion but steely in their resolve.



--
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I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!


TrueTricia
 

S'ryll listened with rapt attention.  The only outward sign of emotional reaction from him was his fingers, tightening on the top of the chair back until his knuckles were white.  Logically, he knew there would have been nothing he could have done.  But he felt the guilt of having not been there, having left her to go through that by herself.  

The kettle whistling brought him out of his memories and the Healer's words.  "One moment, Healer Idri."  He stood, then, and took a minute to make her an herbal tea, the leaves seeping.  He grabbed a saucer and brought it over to her.  "Your tea," he said, before sitting back down.  "I remember what happened next.  You must have decided that her long term needs meant she couldn't stay in the Reaches..."