01.Nov.12, 11:05 AM
Talian frowned as his assistants removed the girl. That was probably for the best. She would have time to rest and recover before going back into the weyr, where she would undoubtedly twist the story, intentionally or unintentionally.
Talian was struggling to be understanding. He no longer doubted that Aparicus had been sexually assaulted. Talian empathized with that, but that wasn't the problem. Talian just couldn't understand her reaction. Sure, Talian had been upset by his own encounter. It had been crushing, and at the time it filled him with horror and gave him many sleepless nights. This, though? This was extreme.
He sighed. He didn't understand, but he figured he was going to have to. He didn't understand how a lot of people reacted to things. He didn't understand how any northerner could be happy at Katila, how his friends could accept dragons, or how B'jin could willfully forget things...he figured this was just another thing he didn't get. He felt bad for the girl, though, and he felt dirty.
He felt like J'ver.
"Post-traumatic stress," he reasoned aloud, sighing one more time before looking at his hand. His nose wrinkled. It was deeper than he'd originally thought. The healer turned to B'jin and laughed nervously.
"You know, I thought I was over the whole J'ver thing. But now I feel like an asshole," he said lightly, as if trying to make a weak joke out of the situation. He most certainly was not over it, but his recovery had been surprisingly smooth. Talian handled abuse better than change.
He walked across the room and gathered some supplies with his good hand. He had enough redwort solution left to clean his own wound, which just left the matter of closing it. He'd be damned before he let anyone else in this hall work on him!
"Dad? Would you help me?" he asked, his intentions still quite unclear. He seated himself at the desk and pulled the small table holding his tools closer. "Can you sort of pinch this closed for me? Just put your palm against it and push a little, enough so the edges meet." The boy's words were soft and soothing. "I know you don't like blood, but I can't fix it alone."
Then, with his good hand, he reached for his needle and sinew. "It'll never heal if I just wrap it, and I need my hands..."
Talian was struggling to be understanding. He no longer doubted that Aparicus had been sexually assaulted. Talian empathized with that, but that wasn't the problem. Talian just couldn't understand her reaction. Sure, Talian had been upset by his own encounter. It had been crushing, and at the time it filled him with horror and gave him many sleepless nights. This, though? This was extreme.
He sighed. He didn't understand, but he figured he was going to have to. He didn't understand how a lot of people reacted to things. He didn't understand how any northerner could be happy at Katila, how his friends could accept dragons, or how B'jin could willfully forget things...he figured this was just another thing he didn't get. He felt bad for the girl, though, and he felt dirty.
He felt like J'ver.
"Post-traumatic stress," he reasoned aloud, sighing one more time before looking at his hand. His nose wrinkled. It was deeper than he'd originally thought. The healer turned to B'jin and laughed nervously.
"You know, I thought I was over the whole J'ver thing. But now I feel like an asshole," he said lightly, as if trying to make a weak joke out of the situation. He most certainly was not over it, but his recovery had been surprisingly smooth. Talian handled abuse better than change.
He walked across the room and gathered some supplies with his good hand. He had enough redwort solution left to clean his own wound, which just left the matter of closing it. He'd be damned before he let anyone else in this hall work on him!
"Dad? Would you help me?" he asked, his intentions still quite unclear. He seated himself at the desk and pulled the small table holding his tools closer. "Can you sort of pinch this closed for me? Just put your palm against it and push a little, enough so the edges meet." The boy's words were soft and soothing. "I know you don't like blood, but I can't fix it alone."
Then, with his good hand, he reached for his needle and sinew. "It'll never heal if I just wrap it, and I need my hands..."