Who

R'xim, Kyara

What

Kyara pays a late-night visit to the infirmary to retrieve the jovial drunk who is, apparently, her weyrmate.

When

It is late night on the 28th day of the 1st month of the 15th Turn of the 12th Pass.

Where

Infirmary and Ground Weyrs, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 24 Sep 2018 06:00

 

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"Well for Faranth's sake, woman, we might as well be."


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Infirmary

From the astringent smell of redwort, to the gleam of counter and cabinet, this place positively defines the concept of antiseptic cleanliness. Despite the yawning exit to the Dragonhealer Courtyard, the floors remain scrupulously swept of sand and particulate matter. Back behind the counter where the healers usually are, are shelves full of bottles and jars, as well as cupboards hiding away more delicate items that shouldn't be exposed to too much sand. Beyond the counter, there is the Desk, where patients are checked in and taken to one of the examination areas by a healer. The windows are usually kept open for the flow of air, but there is both shutters to shut out dust storms, and curtains for other occasions.


It's very late in the evening and R'xim is seated in the waiting room of the infirmary. There is a fresh bandage on his left eyebrow and some excellent stitches beneath it — must be Amarante's work. By the looks of him, he's been in the Pit for what would seem like the majority of the night the way his eye looks and judging my the strong scent of alcohol that lingers around him like fog. The Healers have been unable to discharge him from their care because of his current state and have sent word to a very sober someone to come collect him. Rix doesn't appear to be bothered by this. In fact, he's seated next to a Healer apprentice charged with the duty of keeping an eye on the intoxicated bronzerider until he's able to leave. Oh, and he's in the middle of a story it would seem. "So then I said to him, I said… 'Hey! Stop steppin' on my shardin' foot like we're dancin'!'" Merry seems to describe Rix right now. Must be the booze talking.

The very sober someone is also very pregnant, enough so that she's not too far away. It's only been a sevenday since Kyara moved to a ground weyr. She's still getting around easily enough, and with her health being so strong, she's been doing quite well throughout. However, discomfort does tend to wake her at night every now and then. It just so happens that she's awake to receive the firelizard about R'xim's current location and needs. So while there's much that could be called advantageous right now…well. It doesn't mean the greenrider is happy about any of it. She doesn't like R'xim's fighting, though understands why he does it, she thinks. Her displeasure with things at the moment is evident in the stern expression that tightens her face as she enters the infirmary, the thick flannel of her nightgown billowing around booted ankles, a thick robe thrown over it all against the cold and her burnished hair pulled partially back in an effort to keep from looking completely mussed. Amber eyes land straight upon the bronzerider, her jaw tightening as she notes the stitches and bruises.

R'xim leans upon an elbow on the armrest of the chair, sprawled at an angle of boozy repose. "He stepped on my foot! So, I had to hit 'im in the shardin' head. You shoulda seen 'im fall!" A lingering raspy laugh follows as he's very clearly amused with his not-really-that-funny story. The Healer apprentice spots Kyara first and brightens a bit at the sight of the greenrider — sweet relief. "HEY! Look!" Now Rix spots Kyara, too, and straightens in his chair, a hand extending over to the apprentice to thwack their shoulder. "My weyrmate is here! She's pregnant." Captain Obvious to the rescue. "Isn't she beautiful!?" When he goes to thwack the apprentice's shoulder again, the young lad quickly dodges by standing up to collect the hidework that Kyara needs to sign in order to get Rix out of the infirmary.

Fighting because one has to is something Kyara understands. Fighting just because one can is not, so walking in on R'xim's story definitely isn't amusing on her end. "R'xim," she manages evenly as she comes toward him and the apprentice, trying to stave off any further smacking of the apprentice's shoulder with a lifted hand. "Just-" Then the next bit out of his mouth shocks her into a moment of blinking stillness, her brows arched high. What did he just call her? Her brain spins in place for a moment before she realizes she still has something to do. And that she's still supposed to be ticked off rather than dazed. "Um… Let me get him out of your hair. I'm just in the ground weyr out there." Which the apprentice may already know, considering. The greenrider gives R'xim a look of rather fiery consternation before turning to sign what she needs to sign.

R'xim didn't arrive with anything extra to carry, so when Kyara makes good with the hidework he stands up and streeetches his arms like he's been sitting for ages. It's probably only been about twenty minutes. "Alright, let's get outta here. Thanks for the patchin' up! You guys are great." There's collective relief on the Healers' expressions when they watch R'xim exit the infirmary with Kyara as his acting handler. And since the ground weyr isn't very far, he draws to a halt and squints in its supposed direction. "Wait. Which one's ours?" Completely oblivious to Kyara's disapproval, he is.

Kyara gives the Healers an apologetic smile before turning and slipping herself beneath R'xim's arm, guiding him out into the frigid night and acting as a bit of a brace if he happens to need it. His question prompts a pinch to his side. "The one with the dragon sitting out front to watch us." And the dim pool of lowlight in front of it. It's the third one down from where they exited the infirmary, in the end. Liareth is indeed sitting quietly out front, watching her lifemate and the bronzerider come her way with eyes slowly whirling gold. Only once Kyara and R'xim have passed inside does she come back in herself, still watchful. "I wish you'd stop, Rix," she says atop a heavy sigh as she gives him a push to the edge of the bed, hoping it'll result in him sitting. That done, she also sits, lifting a knee as far as it will go before pulling her foot up so that she can take off one shoe, then the other.

Oh, that's Liareth sitting outside the weyr? R'xim isn't wearing his glasses. He's lucid enough to know that leaning on a very pregnant Kyara isn't exactly the safe thing to do, and he does a decent job of getting inside the weyr without much of a fuss. He's already working at removing his jacket to hang up onto a hook, or at least try to hang it up without it falling into a heap on the ground. "I did stop! About forty-five minutes ago." He thinks she's talking about drinking. When the jacket is hanging up somehow, he turns and spots the bed — his next destination. "Or maybe it was thirty." With a little helpful push, he sits on the edge of the bed and attempts to toe off his boots as Kyara sits next to him doing something similar. "It's awful late for you to be up." Like he's already forgotten that she had to fetch him from the infirmary.

"The fighting, R'xim," Kyara clarifies with exasperation, now slipping off the edge of the bed again in order to shrug out of her robe. She sidles over to the bedside table, pours a glass of water, and then leaves it a moment as she turns back to him. "I could say the same for you," she counters, waiting for him to get his boots off. Once he succeeds (if he succeeds), she'll lean in to help him get his shirt off. "What was that all about in there?" she asks evenly, though eyes him sharply to see if he'll even comprehend what she's asking.

R'xim succeeds in removing his boots and manages to shove them under the bed with one of his feet. He receives a little help shrugging out of his shirt and he hoists himself up to unbuckle his belt and step out of his pants — the act is surprisingly stable. Now he sinks back down onto the bed in nothing but a pair of under shorts and crawls over to his side of the bed to properly collapse for the evening. The Weyr would have to be burning down (or Kyara going into labor) for him to get up again. "Fuck." he groans, clearly satisfied with the softness of the bed. Any bed right now would feel like the best bed on Pern to him, let's be honest. "What?" He forgot what Kyara asked for a second. "Oh. Yeah. The Steens had an open night at the Pit and invited me down to beat the shit out of some people. I was doin' pretty good until about the third round of whiskey." A yawn is stifled. "Then I got stitches. Now I'm here." His comprehension of Kyara's inquiry isn't exactly on point.

Again, Kyara sighs. In his drunken state, R'xim will either be forthcoming or useless when it comes to trying to understand his earlier words, and the greenrider had been hoping for more of the former. She is, however, fine with hearing why the fighting even happened, even if he's missing the point. "And you're going to regret it all something fierce in the morning," she drawls, climbing up onto the bed and carefully scooting close so that she can look down at him, instinctively supporting the swell of her stomach as she does so. She braces on one hand, studying his face. "You told the Healer that I'm your weyrmate," she points out, again taking the chance that he might just spill whatever is on his mind in that regard. If not…well. There's always the morning.

"Yes, I am!" R'xim says with a drunken snicker. It's not like he can change the hangover that's looming upon the morning horizon, nor will he be able to make the stitches on his eyebrow go away either. Therefore, he's just going to enjoy his current state of mind and not give a care about what's waiting for him. The glass of water that Kyara poured is eyed ever briefly as he continues to lie on his back, but he makes no move for it as that would require reaching over Kyara and that belly of hers. "I did." Rix says with a half smirk. "I couldn't just tell 'em, 'Hey here comes the mother of my kid'." It's an attempt at humor and clearly not his strong point right now. "What's wrong with callin' you my weyrmate?" Rix glances at Kyara now as she's propped onto one hand and peering down at him. He's then lifting a hand to gently brush some wisps of hair behind her ear and then allows his fingertips to trail down her neck and shoulder soon after.

Kyara notices when R'xim's eyes slide over to the glass of water and straightens briefly to snag it, carefully bringing it around and offering it to him. She'd meant to do it in the first place, but she's a bit preoccupied. She refrains from telling him that yes, he could have said just that, for fear of cheapening the moment. "Well…nothing," she answers quietly, lips curving into a soft but honest smile. She tilts her head to his touch, unable to suppress a little shiver with the passage of his fingertips over her shoulder. "It's just that…we'd never talked about it. It wasn't something I wanted to push for, though…I've wanted to be," she admits, and lets her hand trail over his chest, her gaze following.

"Well for Faranth's sake, woman, we might as well be." R'xim maneuvers so that he's on his side and propped on his forearm so that he can accept the glass of water without spilling it on the bed. It takes him a moment to chug the entire thing and then hand it back to Kyara so she can return it to the table. "Don't you think? I mean, we see each other every day and pretty much every free moment we have. You put up with my bullshit better than any other woman I know. Not to mention…" His eyes flick to Kyara's belly and his palm then rests upon it. "We're gonna have a kid. If I wanna call you my weyrmate, I think I can." Even though they sleep next to each other almost every night, this is actually the first time Rix has taken a moment to appreciate Kyara's pregnancy. "How have you been feeling anyway?" When he's not raising her blood pressure and making her get out of bed late at night to fetch him from infirmaries.

Kyara blinks a bit at that, burnished brows lifting as she considers R'xim's assertion. She's still musing as she takes the empty glass and sets it aside. "I…guess I'd just never really thought about how it worked," she admits, covering his hand with hers on her stomach. "Or maybe I had a different notion of how it might go. But I think…that'd be the last vestiges of Hold and Craft in me hanging on. Anyway. I do think, yes." She reaches out to skim her fingers along his cheek. "And I think if I want to call you my weyrmate, too, then I will." Her smile widens slowly to a grin before her eyes grow over-bright, and she looks down abruptly at her stomach again. "I'm tired of my sharding back hurting," she answers his last. "And of getting bigger and not being able to do what I used to, even though I knew it would happen. So I've been feeling like a bitch. Or a potential one, anyway." May as well say it plainly; she has no qualms right now. "Luckily, it's not a constant."

"Good, that's settled." R'xim says this like he has some authority on the matter, or perhaps it's just the alcohol making him run his mouth. He does tend to get mouthy when he drinks. Given the present company, though, he's not so much mouthy as he is putting the issue to rest. At least he thinks it's to rest. The bronzerider lies back down and then bends an arm so that his hand is slipped underneath his head as he stares up at the ceiling. His eyes are feeling heavier. "My back hurts, too." he comments, eyes closing. "But, that's because I've been a dragonrider for over thirty Turns." Notice how he doesn't say it's because of his age. "And you are the furthest thing from a bitch. No one's gonna stay mad at a pregnant woman for her mood swings. If anything, they feel bad because they can't exactly help her."

A burnished brow rises contrarily at R'xim first, but Kyara can't stop the curving of a smile regardless. She watches as he stretches back out, taking a moment to survey the damage the evening has wrought upon him. The sight dims her expression, but her fondness for the man beneath the bruises is a stronger force, and she just finds herself sighing again. "The things I have to look forward to, hm?" she teases, and leans down to kiss him before laying down herself, settling onto her side against him. "That has been my experience so far, thankfully," she says to his last, unconsciously rubbing at her back once more before reaching over to shut the single glowbasket that's currently giving off light. "Let's sleep then, weyrmate," she says, a tired drawl coming in around the edge of her words. "The more you get, the better." The same goes for her, of course, but that's not where her head goes first.

As Kyara lies down next to him, R'xim snakes an arm around her and helps her settle. As her hand drifts away from her back, he'll take the opportunity to run his fingertips up and down the aggrieved area in a half-hearted attempt to help ease her discomfort. It's a losing battle, though. He's drifting further into sleep now that his eyes are closed and his weyrmate is by his side. It's comforting. Alas, what might be comforting now might be excruciating in the morning when he wakes up to the worn off numbweed on his eyebrow and the remnants of a hangover… The thought doesn't seem to deter him in the moment as he succumbs to sleep with Kyara (and baby) kept close.

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