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1. [DL-C] A Beautiful Mind, Revealed
From: John Pepper <trissana@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
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Message: 1
Date: Sat, 31 Dec 2005 20:25:00 -0800 (PST)
From: John Pepper <trissana@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [DL-C] A Beautiful Mind, Revealed
Trevor
Day 6, Midday
"Well, I wouldn't have believed it," said Trevor, walking into the
Warrenlady's office and putting his hands on his hips as he looked
across the piles of paper that adorned Cynthia's desk. "S'lomon thinks
you're nuts, you know."
His mate smiled at him from between two particularly high stacks that
rose on either side of the writing space in front of her chair. "I
love you too," she said, setting down her pen and resting her chin on
her palms.
"You know," he said, "since you aren't comfortable without having a
lot of paper around, I told S'lomon that maybe we could collect up all
the warren's old scrap paper and pile it up around you in your room at
the med center."
"Funny," she said, standing up to kiss him. "This really is
important stuff, though, and without an experienced junior queenrider
to help..."
"Well, there IS Caly," he reminded her.
"And I said 'experienced'," she reminded him. "Besides, Caly is busy
right now getting the new riders oriented."
"You have me," he said. "I'm pretty good with paper. Even with
math...have to be, you know, computing distances and scales on maps."
"Speaking of scales, Syren says you're an excellent scrubber and
oiler, and is thinking of designating you as her official
scale-scrubber," she told him. He didn't know whether she was serious
or just making this up, but the very thought was enough to make him
turn pale. "Or," she said with a smile, "something tells me that one
or both of our new little charges needs to be changed."
"Into what..." he began, then realized what she meant as he looked
down at K'rald and Bahb. "Oh...that..."
"Yes, that," she smiled. "Now, if you want to be a *real* help, you
can change their diapers."
"Um, I think Syren may need oiling," he said, slowly backing away.
He stopped when she crooked her finger at him and gave him that
unmistakable "come back here" look.
"I've, uh, never done this before," he reminded her.
"It's really simple," she said, picking her pen back up. "You should
have no problem at all, and of course you have me here to supervise."
Trevor bent down and picked up K'rald first, and realized that he was
dealing with one very wet and very soiled diaper. "Well, ok...but can
I ask a question?"
"Sure," she responded.
"When did *you* learn how to change diapers?" he asked, as he removed
K'rald's diaper and held it out at arm's length away from them.
(Tag Alton)
* * * * * *
Late night
Day 6
On and off during the day, Trevor had returned to their quarters to
look in on Trissana. He'd wanted to spend time with her today, for a
very special reason...but she continued to drift in and out sleep, and
most of the time that she was awake she seemed...well, rather unfocused
and not really "there." The reports they'd received from Keldarra
indicated that Tymor, too, had come down ill, but that the sickness had
not spread. The healers there had attributed it to an unusual mold
that had, all unnoticed, been growing in one corner of Tymor's
apartment. It had been cleaned out immediately, of course, and the
queen moved to another apartment until her own dried out. Tymor was
suffering from a very bad cough, but Triss - perhaps because she was
younger and smaller than the great queen - had developed something that
very much resembled pneumonia from it.
There was good news in one sense, in that the Keldarra healers didn't
think that what Tymor and Triss had could be communicated to other
dragons. He'd been worried about Bohoc's spending so much time with
Triss, not wanting him to get sick as well because of it. S'lomon,
while agreeing in principle with the Keldarra healers, had still
insisted that Syren move over to the vacant queen's quarters next to
her own. The queen, after all, couldn't be risked. Andahar still felt
- and Trevor agreed - that neither the babies nor Cynthia should come
near her. Nor should Trevor be near the three of him after being with
Triss, until he'd scrubbed himself thoroughly and spent an hour or so
outdoors to clear his lungs of any air that he had breathed in his
dragon's presence.
He'd taken special pains not to show it in front of Cynthia...now, of
all times, she needed him to be strong and reliable for her..but he was
worried about his dragon. Lenna's steam-concoction had made her
breathing a bit easier, but had not solved the underlying problem
inside her lungs. He remembered his grandmother's words about people
who had had such sicknesses never being the same again.
Now, he walked out into the dragons' sleeping chamber with a single
candle in hand to light his way in the darkness of the cavernous room.
In his other hand, he carried a wrapped bundle. He could barely see
Trissana's bulk, still covered in her blanket, but he could hear the
unsettling, raspy sound of her breathing. Her breaths were shallow,
and panting, and had a wet sound to them. For a moment the breathing
sounds stopped, and felt a cold chill run up his spine as he waited for
her to resume breathing. He almost dropped the candle as he ran over
to where she lay.
With a snort, her breathing resumed, and Trevor felt himself sag with
relief. He heard her shifting in her sleep, and realized that it was
this that had caused the momentary stoppage of her snoring. After
checking to be sure her water basin was full, he climbed up onto the
stonework that rimmed her couch, and sat the candle on the edge so that
it provided just enough light that he could see her face, and setting
the wrapped bundle down next to it on the stonework. She was tightly
curled up under her blanket, with only her head showing. Her eyes were
closed, and there was no indication from her that she was even aware
that he was here. He noticed that Bohoc wasn't here at the moment,
even though the green dragon had been spending a great deal of his time
with her. Trevor could only assume that he'd been needed elsewhere,
but had no doubt he'd be back in time. For now, though, he was glad of
the privacy.
He knelt down by her head, and pressed his cheek against her own,
which was still too warm he thought. He drew a deep breath, speaking
softly to her, both with his mind and with his voice in hopes that
she'd hear one or the other.
"Happy Hatching Day, my little Cupcake," he said, and waited a few
moments in silence before speaking again. "I had...had hoped it would
be better for you than this."
As he knelt by her, his mind drifted back to the earlier hatching
days they'd celebrated. Dragons didn't generally keep track of such
things, but hatching days had always been special for Trissana and
himself. Her actual hatching had been such an ordeal because of his
foolish attempt to reject her, that he'd always made it a point to make
the anniversary's of her hatching days that she could look back on
fondly. Last year had been especially important, because of his
promise to give her anything she wanted...and her request that they go
back to Keldarra Warren to visit her dam Tymor. He had at first
resisted because of the painful memories Keldarra held for him, but he
acquiesced because he could not bear to face her disappointment if he
refused.
So they had gone, and Triss had gotten to spend a wonderful night
with her dam. And something else wonderful and unexpected had come of
that visit - Trevor had learned that his grandmother Merilan still
lived there, and after so many years the two had rediscovered one
another. Because of that night, Merilan herself was here at Cleft now
to visit her two great-grandchildren - one of whom, K'rald, was named
after her own departed son, Trevor's father.
"I...wanted to do something special for you today," he said.
"But...but I guess all you really want right now is to get well again."
He gently stroked the scales on her cheek, hoping that in some way she
was at least aware that he'd come to be with her. His mind drifted
back to her first Hatching Day, the one where he'd had to explain to
her just what a "hatching day" was. She'd been so excited then,
especially when he presented her with a new dragon-sized ball,
specially made to withstand draconic wear-and-tear. The two of them,
and Cynthia and Syren, had played ball out on the green that day, and
he remembered the way Triss had bounded energetically after the ball,
her pearl scales glittering in the sunlight.
How different it was now. They were alone, in the silent darkness of
the sleeping cavern, and Triss was racked by a sickness that, for all
anyone knew, might leave her an invalid...or worse. What would he do
without her, if it came to that? He didn't think he could go on, were
he to lose her...not even for Cynthia and the babies. "You have to
stay," he whispered in her ear. "Please, Triss, please...get better.
Even if you can't fly again...even if you can't walk...we'll still be
together." He felt a tear run down his face, a release he'd not
allowed himself as far back as he could remember. It was followed by
others, leaving tracks across his cheeks and down onto the scales of
Triss' face.
His heartfelt plea must have penetrated through to her on some level.
The dragon stirred restlessly, and her eyes opened just a bit, just
enough to envelop him in their sapphire glow. <You will never be
alone,> she said sleepily. <Even without me, you would still have
your mate and your hatchlings. You owe it to them to stay.>
Trevor drew back in confusion. The mindvoice was Trissana's, and
yet...was not. It sounded...older, more mature, more...decisive? Her
mindvoice had always sounded, to him, like a little girl's, even though
she had long since reached draconic maturity, that stage where a young
dragon lost all trace of the chubbiness and clumsy movements that
carried over from their time as hatchlings, and entered that life stage
that they would enjoy, unchanged except for any injury or illness, as
long as their riders short human lifespans allowed. Trissana was,
physically, as sleek and beautiful a dragon as he'd ever seen, yet
mentally she had seemed little changed from the dragon who'd taken her
first uncertain flight around the warren - her decision to "do a
go-around" because of an errant wind gust was still a topic of
discussion when riders and dragons discussed memorable "first flights."
He had chastised her at the time, though not seriously, knowing that
it was the sort of thing that any
young, inexperienced dragon might have done.
And, seemingly, she'd remained that, a young, inexperienced dragon,
his "Cupcake," who didn't change with the passing years. But the voice
he'd just heard wasn't the sweet, childish voice who sweetly greeted
him every morning. It was a light, feminine voice, but not at all
childish. It was, he thought, what Cynthia might have sounded like,
had she been a dragon - loving and affectionate, but at the same time
sharp and capable. It fit her, he realized. Just as, to his dismay he
realized that the persona he saw on a daily basis did not. He reached
out to touch her mind, saw and felt the warm, loving softness he always
felt..and then to his horror he felt it fading under his mental touch,
evaporating like mist to reveal the mind beneath it. He saw flashes of
memories...memories of events, thoughts, actions, and decisions, pieces
of their lives as they had appeared through Trissana's eyes. Eyes that
saw, and a mind that comprehended, a lot more than he'd ever thought
possible.
He sat back on the sand, shocked and perplexed. If what he'd seen
was true...and how could it not be...then his sweet, loving dragon had
been concealing her true personality from him all this time. It was
impossible, he thought...no dragon could do that. Perhaps it was her
illness...that was it, the delirium caused by her pneumonia had done
something to her mind. When she was well, she'd be fine again. He
turned to see her gazing intently at him, the soft glow of her blue
eyes reflected by the moisture of his tears that still clung to her
cheek.
<So now you know,> she said softly, and with that shattered all his
hopes.
*But...why?* he asked pleadingly. *I...I don't even know you, do I?*
She sighed, which in turn brought on another coughing spell that it
took her a few moments to master. <You know my heart, as I know
yours,> she told him. <You know my love for you. What else matters?>
*Why?* he asked again, too much at a loss to even know what to ask.
<Because that is what you expected of me...> she said, her head
swaying a bit and her eyes half-lidding themselves. <What Bohoc
expects...he is the only male I...> She shook her head again, and he
felt her mind losing its focus on him.
*Triss, please...I need to know!* he begged her.
She oriented on him again, but he sensed that the contact would be
short. <It is this sickness, I let down my guard, I should not
have...I am still the dragon you know, Trevor...the one who loves to
hear stories from you...who loves to play ball...to cuddle with Syren
and Bohoc...who wanted your grand-dam to be my grand-dam too...and who
loves having her hatching-day remembered...I love you, but...I am not a
hatchling...not what you wanted me to be.>
Trevor remembered the wrapped bundle, and held it up for her. *I...I
brought this for you...* He unwrapped it for her, and showed what was
inside to her. Her eyes widened a bit when she recognized her old
hatchling blanket that she treasured so much. *I know we agreed to put
it away, but I thought...well, that you might like to have it just for
tonight...to celebrate your hatching day.*
He helped her as she laid her head down and carefully moved a claw to
hold the precious little blanket to her cheek. <Thank you...thank
you...!> She closed her eyes, and her voice became faint. <I am
sorry...I did not know...what you would feel about me if you knew...or
how to tell you...please do not tell Bohoc...not yet.>
Trevor listened, but there was nothing more from her. Her breathing
resumed its more measured rhythm indicating that she was asleep again.
It sounded a bit less strained than before, at least. He knelt down by
her head once again, and gently stroked the small scales between her
eyes. *Happy hatching day,* he told her again, and then left her to
her rest.
His mind was full of questions and unease as he made his way over to
the outer entrance, thinking to talk a walk on the green to do some
thinking. He couldn't go back to Cynthia for at least an hour anyway,
so he'd have some time. Just then, he heard wings overhead, and looked
up to see Bohoc coming in for a landing. The small hunter-green dragon
alighted, then crouched down for Andahar to dismount. As soon as his
saddle was removed, he hurried up to the entrance of Triss' sleeping
cavern, giving Trevor a quick brush from his nose in passing before he
disappeared inside.
He heard footsteps approaching as he watched Bohoc's tail disappear
into the darkness of the entryway, and turned to see Andahar looking
curiously at him. "Mapmaker looks like he has seen spirit of
underworld," he said, then grimaced as he remembered who the Nomad
deity of the underworld was, and what that name meant to Trevor.
"Sorry."
Trevor shook his head. "No, don't be," he said. "I guess I do look
a fright. I feel like I just met Khazeen again."
(Tag Arlene)
NRPG: Wow, I almost forgot to do Triss' biennial Hatching Day post!
Talk about just making it under the wire to get it in 2005!
Submitted by:
John
Trevor & Trissana (who's officially a year older, yay!)
Cleft Warren
Summary:
Midday, Day 6
Trevor finds Cynthia in her office, and is dismayed that she is back
to work again. He offers to help, and ends up on reluctant
diaper-changing duty.
Late Night, Day 6
Trevor goes to visit the ill Trissana to wish her a happy hatching
day. His distress at her condition rouses her from her delirium, and
he learns things about her that he never knew. He leaves, meeting
Andahar and Bohoc on the way outside.
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