====October 20, 2013
====Valenia, Vergora
====A glimpse into attempts at mindhealing a mind that is possibly beyond healing.

Who Valenia, Vergora
What A glimpse into attempts at mindhealing a mind that is possibly beyond healing.
When Winter, 11 months and 6 days until the 12th Pass
Where Vergora's Weyr, Igen Weyr

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Vergora's Crazy Crib

In the past, Vergora's weyr was a hub of style and elegance. The finest fabrics, master quality furniture and art, glass vases, ceramic baubles, books, mirrors, lanterns, and candles. At night, the weyr would almost glow when viewed from the outside. Now, however, there is so much empty space that one could almost hear echoes. Kohleth's couch, which once fit her perfectly, lies barren and dusty. Vergora's books and scrolls are gone, as is her ornate writing desk. Gone is her comfortable sofa with its exquisitely embroidered pillows. Gone are the silks and the wardrobe of beautiful dresses. What is left is sparse and drab, as if scavengers picked the bones clean while Vergora's mind was elsewhere. She is left her table and chairs, her bed, a stand and washbasin. And the desert's view.

Since Valenia first arrived at Igen Weyr, she had begun working on building a rapport with the Weyr's former senior weyrwoman. To say the least, it has not been easy. In the beginning she mostly took on much of the day-to-day tasks that the local Healers had been covering until then. Meals. Baths. Basic social interaction. Valenia had been relieved to discover that someone had put a stop to drugging the poor woman sometime before Val arrived.

Now, nearly two months later, Valenia and Vergora have settled into a routine of sorts, though it is not necessarily one most others might call routine. It has mostly involved the Healer figuring out Vergora's own daily rhythm. Sleep times. Meal times. Active times. Chill times. Those last have been the most important. Or at least the most beneficial as far as Valenia is concerned. This would be one of those times.

The rest of the Weyr is either already sleeping or somewhere near that stage. The rest of the handful who are still awake are quiet, including the two women in this once glorious weyr, now little more than a large, empty hole in the wall. Valenia climbs the stairs to the queens' ledges and enters without announcing herself. That is something rapport has earned her. The rest still remains to be seen.

"Vergora?" Valenia calls out, nodding to the Healer apprentice who had been sitting "attentively" (in boredom) to make sure Vergora did not wander away again. She dismisses the apprentice, who wastes little time in departing. While waiting for the ex-weyrwoman to join her in the main room, Valenia sets a plate of food on the table, then takes a seat.

Vergora does not make her wait long. Sweeping out of the nook that has served as her bedroom for decades, the tall woman is carrying a dress over one arm. This time she is also wearing one. That is not always the case. "Oh good. You're here," she states, voice just a little flat. "That git of a child was incredibly dull. No imagination. What do you think of this dress?" She holds it up for the Healer's inspection, then drops it over the back of one of the empty chairs before sitting in another and pulling the plate toward herself.

An amused smile crosses Valenia's face, and yes, she is thankful that the other woman is clothed. Mostly for aesthetic reasons. Besides, it is frustrating trying to dress her if she does not wish to be dressed. She is also not fooled by that flat tone. Unlike the apprentice before her, Valenia once had the… fortune to have met the weyrwoman when she was still in possession of her faculties. Not to mention a wealth of dresses, jewelry, and other such items. She glances at the dress that now hangs over the back of the chair. "Would you like to wear that one tomorrow?"

"No," Vergora replies, waving a hand dismissively at the dress. "I would like to give it away. I wore it to the last gather at Lemos," she continues, as if Valenia knew exactly what she meant. She takes a bite of buttery fingerroot, then frowns. "Or was it… oh, never mind." Her expression grows vague as she stares unseeing at Kohleth's couch, a second bite of fingerroot dangling forgotten from her fork.

Valenia's smile fades as they head into waters visited several times in the last few sevendays. She can't help but glance around the weyr, which seems to empty a little more each day. It is noticeable even in just the short time she's been at Igen. "Vergora," she says, gently reaching out to ease the other woman's hand back down before she drops her food on herself. "You cannot continue to shed every little bit of your old life. Soon you will have nothing left." A pained look of sympathy creases her brow momentarily, but it soon clears. "Have you given any further thought to moving to smaller quarters?"

Vergora's hand moves easily, the fork clinking against the plate. A moment later, her gaze travels from the distant couch to the table, then her food. "Move?" she asks, though this is hardly the first time the topic has come up. "When Kohleth returns, I will need to be here." This is also not the first time she's given this answer. Her facial muscles twitch subtly, as if her subconscious cannot decide which emotions should be displayed. After a couple seconds, she lets the fork clatter to the plate before she pushes away from the table. The motion itself is not a violent one, but she is a tall, hefty woman, and it is a question of mass. The table moves more easily than she does, nearly careening the plate of food into the Healer.

Questions and answers are not new, true, and neither is this particular outburst. Valenia gets a hand in front of the plate at the last moment while warily watching Vergora. She had been warned this would not be an easy case. She was beginning to fear, however, that this was in fact an impossible case. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth and causes Valenia to draw her lips tight in a straight, grim line. Which topic should they cover tonight? The philosophical? Does Kohleth indeed still exist? The ethical? Will she give up this weyr once there is another gold pair who needs it? The practical? Will she dress herself in rags once she's rid herself of every last shred of her former life? Everything that could possibly remind her of Kohleth? No. Not yet. "Vergora, I apologize. Please, eat your dinner. We can discuss other things. Perhaps later today we can find another dress to replace this one?"

Vergora lets out a rush of breath through her nose as she glowers at the Healer, brown eyes appearing even darker in the dim light as she scowls. If she weren't so hungry, this would likely not have worked, but after a couple more seconds of frustrated thought, she pulls her chair back to the table, then reaches out for her plate, drawing it back to her. "My food is messy," she announces quietly, scraping with a fork to move the curry and rice away from the edge of the plate where it threatens to spill.

Valenia lets out a breath of her own, though silently, controlled. Imminent disaster averted, she schools herself back to calm, infusing some cheer she doesn't particularly feel. Perhaps after Vergora has eaten her meal they can find one of the many questions again and examine it. For now, she would be content to know the shattered woman is eating again. Her dresses have begun to sit better on her again, rather than like so much sackcloth, and her cheekbones no longer have the sharp look Valenia had observed when she first arrived. It was progress of a sort. She would need to keep that in mind. Perhaps there was still room for other improvements, too. And maybe Kohleth would magically blink back out of a clear blue sky.

This assignment was making quite the pessimist out of her. She must remember to set aside some time for herself, and soon. It was time for some new perspective.

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