Mothers and Sons

OOC: This is the last part of a three part log. To read the first two sections, please go to Friends and Loved Ones and Fathers and Daughters. Thank you for reading this monstrous log! (There's a good reason it took three days!) Major props also go to Tenebrous for NPCing Phylicia's father, Jaice. Thank you so much!

Healer Hall - Examination Room
The Examination room is small but well-lit. In addition to the skylight, there is a basket of glows on each desk and several around the slate board up front. This is the place where Apprentices are tested regularly on the current subject of study. A smaller slate board lists the test scores and grade averages of each Apprentice. Despite the concientious attention of the cleaning drudges, the room still carries the delicate scent of eagerness, fear, hope and a passion for learning.

Phylicia watches as Galina walks out of the room, though as the door clicks shut, she looks back to her father, hoping that the man passed out on the bed just yonder will be enough to tone down whatever she has coming her way. "Daddy?" Is ventured tentatively. Yes, put her in a situation like this, and it's back to the basics. For the moment at least.

Jaice waits several moments after that door is closed before he turns back to Phylicia, his face even. "DO you have…any idea how much of an uproar it caused when he took you as an apprentice?" he asks quietly. "You have…no idea what you've been running around in the woods with, Phylicia. None at all. You're not even 18 turns old, for Thread's sake, and you've…sassed possibly THE most bitter woman on the face of the planet, who happens to be MY BOSS, by the way…and then this?" That lone brow raises again. "An army of apparantly feral fire-lizards? And a complete abandonment of your common sense in even entering this room…" He shakes his head. "What…in the world has gotten into you?"

Phylicia shakes her head slowly to his first question and even the following statement, her face falling into solemn lines that border on the kicked-puppy look. It's amazing how easily parents can bring that look about. "I didn't mean to get that tart with her. I… wasn't thinking." She's been doing an awful lot of that 'not thinking' of late. The army of fire-lizards gets no justification made, since there isn't really one. "Why was entering the room an abandonment of my common sense?" Well, at least she doesn't sound like a kicked-puppy as well, though she's keeping a watch on her tongue. Mustn't let it get too sharp. His last question gets an even look, where any emotional blocks she put up to deal with this today are taken down. Revealing a multitude of emotions, the top two however being anxiety, and caring. "Love has gotten into me, dad." She answers him seriously, not bothering to hide it from him.

"Phylicia, you know what kind of work we do here," Jaice explains, clearly exerting effort to keep his voice even. "You've heard me talk about it, about the bad things that happen sometimes when people can't take the mental strain of things. Life isn't all classes and sunny life at the Weyr, honey, and there -are- bad people in the world. You chose to walk into a room that was guarded by a flotilla of angry flits, and then stay there with someone that, even if I don't personally approve of it, my peers felt the need to dose with fellis. That, right there, is precisely why you shouldn't have entered the room. We won't even touch the fact that you pretty much blew past three ranking healers of the craft to do it, and more or less contributed to us not being able to get to one of our patients." But then the last of her words sinks in, and his eyes slowly close. "I could have just…dug a cellar when you were younger, and plopped you down there, and convinced you that you were a tuber. I could have done that," he mutters, pinching his nose and turning away.

"No it isn't all classes and sunny life." Phylicia agrees with her father. "The brownrider you accuse of corrupting me with The Ways of the Weyr-" Yes, (slightly) more casual sex gets a title for the moment. "-had to transfer out of the search and rescue wing because he burnt out after the forest fire." She pauses long enough to take a breath. She's not yelling by any means, but it's a discussion between father and daughter now. Not master and apprentice. "And do you honestly thing I haven't heard about the renegade activity around Fort? Bad things happen. Sometimes bad people are responsible. Sometimes it's just life. HE-" She points a finger to Tenebrous. "-is not a bad person! Troubled and socially inept to a point, but a GOOD, trustworthy man under all of those issues! What does his past matter to me beside the fact that it torments him? It's the PAST." It seems that Jaice's daughters are all troublemakers while his sons behaved better. And his turning away has a sad frown pulling her face downwards. "Daddy… he really is a good man…" She pauses for a moment, trying to lighten it up somehow. "But then you'd have a vegetable as your little girl. Where would the joy in that be?"

"The joy in that is the fact that I'd be able to sleep at night? That your mother and I wouldn't worry about what you're doing with yourself at night…" He turns back slowly, one side of his lips turned up. "Granted, you probably woulnd't have been as pretty a baby." He steps back over to the edge of the bed, reaching for one of her hands. "Honey, the past absolutely matters. It's the things that we carry with us, and the things that make us who we are. There is no present without the past, and it cannot be ignored." That hand gets a squeeze. "You have no idea what he's capable of, Phy. I'm not just saying that as a mind-healer. You don't go through what he did without…something breaking. The mind just isn't built to withstand that kind of trauma. He may seem like a good man, but…" He sighs, glancing over at the still form on the bed. "Lookaat me, in the eye, and tell me if you think he's capable of hurting someone? And I don't mean intelligent pain, like a fistfight or an argument, I mean hurting them…if he's pushed, if someone pushes a button in his brain…" He glances back to her, his face serious. "Look at me and tell me that he's not dangerous, Phy…"

Phylicia gives a soft snort. "You and mom would worry anyways, even if I was here at the Hall on my best behavior." Such is the nature of parents. She doesn't pull away from him as she takes one of her hands, her eyes split between watching him and watching Tenebrous; she doesn't catch him like this often, even if it is a more forced method of sleeping. The fact that she can't meet her father's eyes on this subject should say a good deal for him. "He's more of a danger to himself than anyone around him." She makes her observation. "But out of all the time we've spent alone-" Yeah, just mull on THAT one, Jaice… "-he's never hurt me. I still trust him." That last part is said while looking her father in the eye. Her mouth pulls into a slightly more grim line as she looks back down to the sleeping man. "But… there is the possibility. He doesn't take well to some things at all."

Jaice actually winces a little. "We weren't any happier about your apprenticeship to this man than we were when you decided to go and … live with that brownrider, Morlenol." Then he blinks. "Phylicia…" Then he glances at Tenebrous, and back to her. "You didn't…leave that boy for him did you?" He seems almost aghast at the prospect. And then his eyes light up a little. "I knew we should have said something earlier. Did he pursue you while you were working together? Make untowards gestures? Is that how this started?" Ahh, parents.

"That wasn't.. the best of ideas, no." Phylicia admits, absent-mindedly correcting her father on a single detail. "It's M'nol." She pauses a moment. "I left him because we just seemed to grow apart." However, the fact that she was drooling over Tenebrous then is left off. "DADDY!" Is her one word of nearly scandalized protest. "No! While I apprenticed to him he was a … well, not proper… but a good mentor. Nothing happened." While she was mentored to him. "I told you, he's a good man!"

"Good men have urges too, young lady!" Jaice takes a moment to rub his eyes. "All…of that aside, for a moment, I cannot simply sweep this man's mental condition under the rug because you care for him." Then he waves a hand. "Ok, forget that, let's go back to the part where you love him. Your mother and I received your note about that goldrider friend of yours asking you to stand. What happens now? As a candidate, you'll be restricted, though Thread only knows how -happy- I'd be about that…" No sex. "And if you impress? A whole turn, Phylicia. Do you think he'll wait for you? And you for him?"

"None of which he ever followed up on." Phylicia sticks that last word in there. And then the topic of her standing reddens her cheeks considerably, even as she gives him a look. "I… won't be standing. The Craftmaster denied me." Mostly because of her runaway mouth. But nonetheless, the question gets considered. "I couldn't tell you, honestly. It's not exactly like a relationship. At all. We know how we feel about one another and we just sort of … play it by ear." Oh yes. That has to be very reassuring to her father.

Several conflicting emotions wash over Jaice's face at that point, from consternation, to regret, and then finally sorrow. At the news of the Craftmaster's punishment, his face falls. "Oh…Faranth, Phy, I'm…" He shakes his head a little, and then leans in to fold her into a hug. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmurs. "It's…an important thing to be chosen, I know it is…Maybe the dragons will think on you again, and you'll be in a position to take them up on it this time…" Then he laughs a little and pulls back from her just enough to look into her eyes, a wry little smile on her lips. "Not that…I'm condoning what you did in any way, but she was pretty lit about the way you spoke to her. Do I want to know what you said to her, to make her do that?"

It's the sort of hug that makes both Estevan and Hinae flee from Phylicia's shoulders, momentarily onto the bed with startled chirps. Phy leans into her father, letting herself be wrapped up, like she'll be safe. There are some hugs that a little girl just won't grow out of for a long time. "Well, she's fussy about not letting anything foreign into her arboratory. So first I asked her if she wanted her company to strip, just to make sure." There comes a sort of trembling chuckle from her. "Then she asked if Galina was one of mine-" That still confuses her a little bit as to how she'd have any sway over Galina. "-and I sort of dropped her title, and asked her how Galina could be one of my anything. Loudly." Aka, she yelled. But she rarely has her barriers up around her parents, and she's sniffling. And half-laughing at herself for it without any real humor behind the sound as one and rubs one eye, then the other, wiping away the tears that haven't started yet. "I hadn't realized that I really do want to stand for Seryth's clutch…"

Jaice lets one of his hands brush over the side of her face, his own twisted into half of a grin, and half sadness. "I'd…like to tell you that your mother was the screamer, when we were younger, and that I was the level head…but the truth of the matter is, we were both a pain when we were your age. I suppose it was only a matter of time before one of our children sprouted a mouth like ours." He legs a stool over, sitting in front of her and offering her a cloth from one of the pockets of his robe to daub at her eyes with. "You know I don't…have any pull over the Craftmaster at all, Phy. And even if I did…I'm not sure if it would be right to use it." He gestures to Tenebrous' prone form. "We do the right thing because it's…the right thing. Not because everything will be alright in the end. As a matter of fact, most people will tell you that doing the right thing has blown up in their faces at least once or twice along the line…" Her hand gets another squeeze, and then he asks the question that all fathers must when their daughters cry. "How can I make it better?"

Phylicia takes a breath, and the piece of cloth Jaice offers her. "Are we-" She pauses to take another breath as the first of the quiet tears have started, her lips pursing together. "Are we talking realistic better, or those old Earth fairytales that mom got printed up for me, where they wave a magic wand and everything's just better?" She's using that piece of cloth a little more actively, dabbing. Either apprentices learn how to cry quietly, with minimal noise, or they go find a secluded and hidden corner so their mates can't give them crap about anything. Phylicia? She learned how to control the sobbing. "I want to have my chance on the sands, at Xanadu. I want to know that he'll-" There's a headjerk in Tenebrous' direction. "-be okay. I don't want to be pulled from active duty." She pauses, making another few swipes at her face. "But I know I earned some of that…"

Jaice sighs heavily. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispers. "But I'm afraid I can't fix any of that…" And it's about that time that someone else opens the door, not even bother to knock. And without looking, only one person has that kind of tact. Or lack thereof. Fraille slips into the room, her staff leading the way with a heavy thump at every other footstep. "Your time is up, Jaice," she growls softly, eyes traveling over to Tenebrous' prone form. "And we had an agreement." The door is quietly closed behind her, and then she turns to regard Phylicia's tear-streaked face. "I always wondered a parent's ability to strike their children in the most vulnerable of places," she murmurs to herself. "A talent I never aquired, despite how useful it would have been in my younger years." Jaice turns slowly, not bothering to raise up from his chair. "None of us are proud of the fact that we can do it, Craftmaster," he responds with a nod of his head.

Or maybe its just the fact children normally don't build walls to keep their parents out of their life. That and their parents have known them for the good portion of their life, and upbringing. Phylicia however, says nothing on the matter. It seems that - for now - a proper fear of Fraille has been instilled into the girl, since she quickly puts herself on the other side of her father, one hand gripping into his seated shoulder as her other continues to swipe at her eyes. Slowly, her breathing comes under control. "What agreement, Daddy?" It's addressed to him, because the less she says to Fraille at the moment, the better.

"I wanted a safe end to this little debacle of yours," Fraille grunts. "Your father promised me that he could procure one, in exchange for your knot. And while I do not think that you should get away from this ordeal without incident…it would appear that your partner in crime is willing to assume complete responsibility for your actions, and so I find myself with a choice to make." Then she falls silent to regard the two, giving Jaice the time to speak. "I'm not sure what it says, Craftmaster, that…while this young man only has two friends, they both seem to care for him a great deal. The more social of our people have countless friends, but how many of them would risk everything for one of their own?"

Phylicia gives a start, looking down at her father for a moment with her lips pressed tight. "I only met her today. She shouldn't have to take my punishment. She had no control over my mouth or body." The girl says softly. The fact that her father would have been willing to take her knot is - amazingly - forgiveable somehow. "If my knot is what you require, Craftmaster…?" And then teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, biting hard yet not hard enough to break the skin. Only enough to keep the fresh tears from coming back.

Fraille rolls her eyes. "Master Jaice, I've apparantly given your daughter's cognitive abilities a bit too much credit." Then she's stumping over to the head of the bed, and peeling back one of Tenebrous' eyes just a little roughly. Jaice, in turn, smiles at his child. "No, silly. I told her that if she wanted me to diffuse this, she couldn't take your knot from you. I…would have argued for your friend, if I'd known who she was at the time…" The old woman grumbles something under her breath. "Your peers were a bit enthusiastic with their fellis, Master." She glances up. "Were they trying to knock out a dragon, or a boy?" Then she's looking back down and sniffing Tenebrous' mouth. "Soybeans…he'll have a headache like none other when he wakes up, but he should be fine." Her hand sticks out. "Let me see his chart, please."

"Oh." It's been a long day for Phylicia and no, her cognitive abilites are a little slow right now. They've been through a lot in just the last little while. Since she's the one standing, and it's partially the duty of an apprentice to do such things, she locates the file containing the charts, and hands it to Fraille silently before she retreats back to her father's side, giving him a kiss on the cheek for his efforts on her part. "Thank you…" She murmurs, still waiting for her verdict from the Craftmaster, though tear-botched eyes are watching carefully.

The room is silent, but for the slow turning of pages and the occasional noise from the mouth of the Hall's Craftmaster. When it's done, it's closed slowly, and set down on the countertop next to her. Then she's looking at Jaice, her face hard. "You've read that?" The younger master merely nods. "And what are your thoughts, Master Jaice?" The man purses his lips for a moment. "That…this whole thing has been turned on its ear. That the charting for this man is obviously…questionable. And that it's a very, very good idea to watch any promotional paperwork that comes through administration for the next five years or so." Then he takes a deeper breath. "Fraille, give him to me. I've read his file and I've talked with the only two people other than yourself that have…any idea about what kind of a person he is." The old woman's eyes bore back into his, and she rumbles, "Why…should I do this? You're a master, not a babysitter, and there are other members of your craft who are less…zealous than these first three. Why shouldn't I simply waive all of this and let him go on his way?" Jaice holds up a hand. "Three reasons. You're as interested in the truth of the matter as I am, and you know I can get it…because it's something a father should do for his daughter…" He swallows and stands. "And it's something a mother should do for her son."

Phylicia's head snaps sideways, looking at her father like he just grew a second head. He may have bargained for her knot, but this has nothing to do with her knot. Right. And Fraille wonders where she got it from. Wonder no more, Craftmaster. And then Phylicia is flopping onto the stool that Jaice just vacated. No, her father just grew a third head. The look on her face is one of either complete amazement or dumbfounded shock. Either way, Phylicia is rendered into watching her father with the Craftmaster, trying to pick her jaw up off the ground, though it only in truth hangs slightly open as a disbelieving huff of air that's supposed to be a laugh passes her lips.

It's silence in the room then, with the two masters looking at one another with the kind of intensity that only age, experience and determination can bring. "Therise is dead, Master Jaice," Fraille finally utters, stepping away from Tenebrous' side. Her face is unreadable as she finally looks to Phylicia. "Go and see to your precious eggs, young lady. As of this moment, consider yourself suspended from the craft. Should you return to us, we will decide your fate at that time." Then she's ambling towards the door, and out of it. She turns, as she's closing the door, her face a mixture of emotions, and eye Phylicia's father once more. "You really are a son of a bitch," she says softly. Then she closes the door behind her, shrouding the room in silence once more.

Phylicia's elation at least being allowed to stand is only damped by Fraille's words. But as the door closes and the silence comes upon the room, Phylicia flings herself out of the chair and around her father in a tight hug. He might notice that muscles have developed where she didn't have any before. She didn't use to be able to squeeze THAT hard. "Thank you, Daddy!" She's still a little breathless from the amazement of her father standing up to Fraille especially as she got reamed herself for it. Fraille's dislike for his gene pool must be growing by now. "Thank youThankyouthankyou!" For the moment, she can deal with being suspended. At least that means she only has to focus on what the Weyr sets her for chores. And it means she still technically has a knot, even if she's not to be doing anything with it.

Jaice laughs a little when his daughter all but flies into his arms, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "It's what fathers do for their daughters," he repeats, chuckling through the words. But then his laughter falls off, even as he continues to rub her back. "You should gather your things and see about getting back to the Weyr, young lady. You have…a long road ahead of you, I think." He sighs. "And unfortunately, I won't be there to walk it with you. And neither will he…"

That dampens Phylicia's mood even further and slowly her arms loosen from around Jaice, even as he keeps rubbing her back. It's soothing, and right now soothing is a good thing. "All of my stuff is still at Xanadu, Daddy. It was supposed to be a short visit." And it still more or less is. If she's lucky the rider who took her here hasn't died of boredom yet, or left. Her elation drops yet another notch at his last words and she nods, extracting herself from her father's hug to walk to the head of the bed. It's simple and chaste what she does, laying a soft kiss on Ten's forehead, her hair thankfully providing a mask for her father. "I'll write if I can't find a way to visit." She promises softly before straightening and offering a smile braver than what she currently is. "You can't always come rushing to my side, Daddy." Like when the tree branch clocked her in the head good, or after the fire though he had likely been called for other purposes then as well. She's headed towards where she left the heavy jacket, giving another look to the bed. "Never two hands at the same time with him, dad. Unless you're trying to push him." She's working under the assumption that Fraille will indeed let her father take Ten to whereever. Boll, most likely.

Jaice nods slowly. "I'll remember that. I have a feeling that I have my work cut out for me." And it's about then that the mind-healer apprentices begin arriving. Jaice directs them quietly for a time, and once Tenebrous' body has been removed, he offers, "Do you want me to tell him anything? When he wakes up?"

Phylicia watches as the apprentices move his body, her jacket slung over an arm. It takes her a few long moments to think of anything that she might want passed on via her father. "Tell him… I'll see him when I'm able to. And to please give you a proper chance." Her brown eyes twinkle for a moment as she shrugs the jacket on. "I think you can guess what else gets said, but I'll spare you." Hinae gets her usual shoulder, while Estevan and Ciaran squabble for a moment over her other one, though soon both males are waved off with a sharp hssst in their direction as she picks up her personal bladder from where it got dumped earlier.

Jaice rolls his eyes. "There will be no telling a strange man that I love him just to make you feel better." Then he sighs and smiles. "I'll make sure he knows, as much as I hate encouraging any man towards the attentions of my daughter." He waves a hand. "Go see to the dragons, sweetheart. I love you."

"There could be worse men, Daddy." Phylicia laughs at him as once again she places a kiss on his cheek. "I love you too. Give mom a kiss and a hug for me." That one she's sure he won't object to. And without needing to be told twice, she's headed out the door, devoutly hoping Fraille has found somewhere else to haunt that's not her exit path out to the gather grounds, and her ride to Xanadu.

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