12.Oct.12, 01:57 PM
Ellaira nodded politely to the other patient as they left, mildly surprised to see someone else already at the healer's in the dawning morning. But, she reminded herself, There are plenty of ailments that one might not wish to have known. Like her reason for being here. Ellaira got out of her chair, stretching languorously for a moment as her chilling muscles protested quietly. She waited until the previous patient was gone to offer her own greetings.
"Good morning, healer," Ellaira said politely. The offering of title was not due to unfamiliarity - she'd tangled with the fiery young healer before, and seen her tangle with others more often. No, Ellaira just chose to offer the title, because Lymsleia held such secrets in her hands. Though it seemed unlikely that the healer would be inclined to report back to the leadership of the Weyr on wayward women, Ellaira had learned to watch her back. Offering the rough side of her tongue at every opportunity would not stand her on firm ground of any sort. She followed the healer into the curtained alcove and took the offered seat. Well, Lymsleia was nothing if not polite in her own way. A kind girl, and headstrong. An interesting mixture in this troubled time.
"I don't need any more children," Ellaira said. The words sounded blunter than she had intended, but the truth of them hung in the air with an ugly tinge. "I mean... it's not as if I don't love my children," she offered. "But I want to be eligible to Stand, and pregnancy takes that away. And it's not as if I intend to be celibate while waiting around in this rocky old mound." She shrugged, stemming the flow of her words before they were heated by anger at her circumstances. "I've heard... rumors, shall we say, suggesting you might have a tea for such a headache as mine."
"Good morning, healer," Ellaira said politely. The offering of title was not due to unfamiliarity - she'd tangled with the fiery young healer before, and seen her tangle with others more often. No, Ellaira just chose to offer the title, because Lymsleia held such secrets in her hands. Though it seemed unlikely that the healer would be inclined to report back to the leadership of the Weyr on wayward women, Ellaira had learned to watch her back. Offering the rough side of her tongue at every opportunity would not stand her on firm ground of any sort. She followed the healer into the curtained alcove and took the offered seat. Well, Lymsleia was nothing if not polite in her own way. A kind girl, and headstrong. An interesting mixture in this troubled time.
"I don't need any more children," Ellaira said. The words sounded blunter than she had intended, but the truth of them hung in the air with an ugly tinge. "I mean... it's not as if I don't love my children," she offered. "But I want to be eligible to Stand, and pregnancy takes that away. And it's not as if I intend to be celibate while waiting around in this rocky old mound." She shrugged, stemming the flow of her words before they were heated by anger at her circumstances. "I've heard... rumors, shall we say, suggesting you might have a tea for such a headache as mine."