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+--- Thread: [G] [O] [EVENT] 742.03.28 | Come Morning Light (/showthread.php?tid=4982)
742.03.28 | Come Morning Light - L'gan - 28.Mar.21
Since the official announcement of the dragonhealing program, L’gan had been busier than ever. There were the usual injuries of a Weyr to tend to, all the sprains and headaches and minor breaks. And he’d been taking every opportunity he had to show the visitors from Telgar practical things, like how to deal with the sprained wing of an overeager weyrling. He spent part of the morning checking in on Erebuth and B’kit as they were working on their exercises. He hoped they’d be able to get back to Ista soon; the warm ocean waters there would be so much easier to swim in to build his strength back up.
L’gan was examining a cracked talon and talking through his thought process for the best way to fix it when Semath relayed a message from Cirith. Sariel feels poorly. Cirith says she is going back to bed for a while. He frowned, worried that something was wrong with the pregnancy. Does she want me to check in on her? I can probably get this lot sorted and be up there in an hour
He felt a wash of amusement as Semath got Cirith’s response. She said to tell you not to be a worry-wherry. She felt dizzy but doesn’t think it’s anything serious. Probably just a ‘bug’ from the twins. Though it’s early for trundle bugs, isn’t it? L’gan let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding, and smiled. Not that sort of bug, darling. Thank you. Tell them I’ll come see them at lunch.
RE: 742.03.28 | Come Morning Light - Sariel - 28.Mar.21
A bug, yes, Sariel thought blearily as she pulled the covers over her and sand back into a light sleep. The twins were off at creche, the weyr was quiet, and being a goldrider meant she could have mornings like this. She'd had breakfast early, a muffin, some fruit from Ista or maybe somewhere else. It didn't matter and it had been enough to sate her.
An hour later, she just felt lightheaded and vaguely off, so bed had been the best idea. Bed with a few furs piled on since she was cold and she remained that way well past lunch.
It was the sharp breathlessness that woke her and Cirith's concerned voice.
Great Faranth. Everywhere hurt. But she had to tell her dragon it was alright, there was no reason to panic. She would be alright.
L'gan was all she could get out in between the sharp cramping and she felt her lifemate's driving shriek of a thought lance out toward her weyrmate.
She was so cold, now, and she knew something wasn't right. Sariel found herself moving toward Cirith's ledge as if being closer would help them both, tears running down her cheeks as she spasmed again and again. It felt as if they were killing her slowly and it was only Cirith's mind keeping her present as she struggled to breathe.
I'm here, love. Don't you dare go anywhere without me. The gold caught her rider in her arms, her eyes whirling with fear and anxiety, her voice flooding both Weyr and the sleeping quarters with rage, confusion, and a high keening sound.
The brief spark of life that had been L'gan and Sariel's was gone and Sariel was starting to fade in and out of consciousness. L'gan would come. He'd come.
Both of them, together, fought it.
RE: 742.03.28 | Come Morning Light - L'gan - 28.Mar.21
The infirmary had gotten quite a bit busier, and vague worries about his mate had been compartmentalized. She said not to worry, and when he had Semath check in on the pair just before lunchtime Cirith had reported no new problems, so L’gan had focused on his work. It would be best to let them sleep and he could go check on her when she was awake. He had been in the middle of reading a note from colleagues at Benden and scribbling a response when Aridissicath alerted them something was wrong with the Weyrwoman and all other thoughts were pushed aside.
L’GAN! Cirith calls--something’s wrong! He blanched, faltering and glancing at the others. Did they have this under control? Having been focused on dragonhealing for the past Turn he felt superfluous with Eb’zer and Rhamnus both here, and Semath was clearly distressed. “I--” he swallowed, trying to speak around an unexpected lump in his throat. “Cirith says something is wrong with Sariel.”
Hurry. He added quickly, realizing he hadn’t told them before, “She’s three months pregnant and I don’t know if it’s that or--” he bit back or something like this. Why give voice to something when they didn’t even know what was going on. “I need to go check on her. Can you handle this?” He was already handing things off to an assistant, stepping back as he checked with the others.
L’gan forced himself not to sprint for the infirmary door, knowing a collision would only slow him down further. The moment he cleared the door he ran towards Semath who waited nearby for the quick flight back to their weyr. She had barely landed before he was jumping down and approaching the agitated gold. “Sariel! Cirith, please, let me see her…” he had to admit he was nervous approaching the gold in such an agitated state, but she was just glad to see him and let him get to Sariel’s side with no problems.
Dropping to a knee beside her he checked her breathing and looked for a pulse, desperately ignoring the signs of their other loss. Shaky, but stable for the moment. “Cirith, I need to get her to the infirmary to treat her. Do you trust us to take her?” He waited anxiously for Semath to give him the gold’s response.
RE: 742.03.28 | Come Morning Light - Sariel - 28.Mar.21
Sariel shuddered as her dragon carefully passed her to L'gan. She was only vaguely aware of the transfer. Cirith was brave, shunting her agitation away to deal with whatever was happening to her. Such a brave lifemate.
So sure.
Breathe! She felt him take her and weakly tried to curl closer.
And they would not let her go. The gold could not save their unborn child but she would not let her rider go, too. It had to be fine, it would be. This was Fort! The best healers were here, Sariel had said so. She would not be frightened, she would be brave for her rider. She would be brave for her Weyr, too.
But she would pace for a while yet, fear and muted terror whirling in her faceted eyes. Every once and a while, she would urge Sariel to breathe again as her hide greyed with stress. Again, again, slow breaths, shallow ones, it mattered not. Her Sariel would live!