23.Jun.12, 10:56 PM
Talian listened stoically to the news. It was a comfort to know that his sisters were involved; Fiora wouldn't be alone, and there would be three times the people (perhaps four, if the youngest got involved) to protect the little girl from Talerian. Not that he would care, though. The child was a female, and the old healer did his very best to ignore his own daughters. Why would he show any interest in Talian's?
It was for the best that the child was a girl. It wouldn't suffer from Talerian's attentions, and perhaps it wouldn't suffer from Talian's own childhood curse quite as much; the lack of a father. Tal figured both gender children would benefit from having a good father, but he had no experience with being a girl without a dad. He knew all too much what if felt like to be a boy without a dad. Maybe his little girl would be better than he had? Maybe? Or even better, maybe Fiora would find a good dad to replace him. As much as it stung to think about, the young man hoped so.
"I'm glad," he said, voice still constricted. He hastily set the wine bottle on the edge of his table. It rocked back and forth for a moment, but his reflexes were too slow to save it. It toppled, hitting the floor with a loud crash and shattering into several large shards.
Tal's nostrils flared a little as he looked down at it, uncaring. Whatever. He'd pick it up later.
He rubbed his eyes again, refusing to let himself cry. Now that the news had sunk in, he thought he probably could. He didn't want to, though. Especially not in front of B'jin. Tal wanted so very much to be angry at the greenrider, but how could he? B'jin had risked a lot to bring him this information and had been so patient and kind to him over the last turn.
As he sat there pondering his next reaction, frozen as if in terror, he finally felt the emotion drain out of him. It really was over. Fiora would take good care of her daughter. She would move on and replace him, and he would do the same. The connection just wasn't there anymore. He couldn't believe it. It was like it had been forcibly ripped out of him, torn away by a piece of news that cut like one of his surgical tools.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. They were red and puffy now. "...I'm going to bed," he groaned as he rose to his feet. He didn't exactly want to, but what else could he do? He was caught somewhere in between drunkenness and numbness, and anything he said to B'jin would do nothing except spiral into self-loathing. B'jin didn't need to hear it. Tal didn't want to think about it. What was the point? Better to just go and sleep it off.
It would never go away, but it didn't hurt like it used to. It reminded him of when he was young and not yet used to pricking himself with his medical tools. It hurt at first, but he eventually got used to it. Patients who had to have fingers removed would miss them at first, but eventually it felt normal.
So that was that. He staggered a little bit as he stood, realizing at once how tipsy he was. He'd really killed that last half of the wine bottle. It hit him all at once, making him dizzy and warm.
It was for the best that the child was a girl. It wouldn't suffer from Talerian's attentions, and perhaps it wouldn't suffer from Talian's own childhood curse quite as much; the lack of a father. Tal figured both gender children would benefit from having a good father, but he had no experience with being a girl without a dad. He knew all too much what if felt like to be a boy without a dad. Maybe his little girl would be better than he had? Maybe? Or even better, maybe Fiora would find a good dad to replace him. As much as it stung to think about, the young man hoped so.
"I'm glad," he said, voice still constricted. He hastily set the wine bottle on the edge of his table. It rocked back and forth for a moment, but his reflexes were too slow to save it. It toppled, hitting the floor with a loud crash and shattering into several large shards.
Tal's nostrils flared a little as he looked down at it, uncaring. Whatever. He'd pick it up later.
He rubbed his eyes again, refusing to let himself cry. Now that the news had sunk in, he thought he probably could. He didn't want to, though. Especially not in front of B'jin. Tal wanted so very much to be angry at the greenrider, but how could he? B'jin had risked a lot to bring him this information and had been so patient and kind to him over the last turn.
As he sat there pondering his next reaction, frozen as if in terror, he finally felt the emotion drain out of him. It really was over. Fiora would take good care of her daughter. She would move on and replace him, and he would do the same. The connection just wasn't there anymore. He couldn't believe it. It was like it had been forcibly ripped out of him, torn away by a piece of news that cut like one of his surgical tools.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. They were red and puffy now. "...I'm going to bed," he groaned as he rose to his feet. He didn't exactly want to, but what else could he do? He was caught somewhere in between drunkenness and numbness, and anything he said to B'jin would do nothing except spiral into self-loathing. B'jin didn't need to hear it. Tal didn't want to think about it. What was the point? Better to just go and sleep it off.
It would never go away, but it didn't hurt like it used to. It reminded him of when he was young and not yet used to pricking himself with his medical tools. It hurt at first, but he eventually got used to it. Patients who had to have fingers removed would miss them at first, but eventually it felt normal.
So that was that. He staggered a little bit as he stood, realizing at once how tipsy he was. He'd really killed that last half of the wine bottle. It hit him all at once, making him dizzy and warm.