Slip of the Knife

Xanadu Weyr - Siebith's Weyrbarn

Covered in rough, weathered wood, aged by the weather and the sun, the irregular grayed clapboards outside of this weyrbarn lend the place has a rustic, masculine charm. White shutters and window boxes overflowing with brightly-hued tangles of flowers on the lower windows and flowering vines twine about the supports for the porch overhang add a feminine touch, softening the stark stone steps leading to it.

The worn stone floor of Siebith's area is just inside the large sliding door. The living area of the weyrbarn has an open, airy layout gives the utilitarian, bachelor-like plain white-washed walls and simple hardwood floors a sense of wide open spaces. A sturdy mahogany-toned table with chairs that somehow manage to match despite their variety accent the earthy, wooden tones of the kitchenette. The same dark reddish hues are in the door at the far side of the barn, as well as in the low-slung coffee table in front of the plush, worn couch. Dusky sea-blue rugs are scattered here and there. Dark golden curtains hang on either side of the many windows and partition off the loft up above, led to by a black wrought iron set of ladder-like stairs. Lilies arranged in glass vases on the tables provide a crisp of white counterpoint to the dark wood tones.

A new addition, the bedroom has walls of the same plain white, but the floors are made of newer wood, still shiny with polish. A four-poster bed of the same red mahogany takes up the most of one wall of the small space, a blue-and-cream linen coverlet spread on the wide mattress. A set of wooden bureaus take up the bulk of the wall opposite while another wall has been painted upon in the very center with a seascape mural, its crisp blue waters and sandy shores. The final wall is graced by a feminine-looking writing desk stacked with papers and bedecked with knick-knacks. Over the bed, a set of stained-glass windows allows golden-brown light mingled with white whorls and blue haze to shine into the room with the rising of the sun, though both panes are able to be unlocked and swung wide to accept lake breezes.

The far side of the weyrbarn is spread with pieces of weyrhide in various shapes and sizes. A work in progress takes up the table on that end of the space. It's been awhile since it's seen any use, but while straps and leathers need mending and patching periodically its not every day that such repairs are needed. Today is one such day however, where D'had has set himself in the back of the barn to make sure things are up to par.

Peace! Tranquility! Order! Enter Muir and Marella to put an end to that. Harper lessons must be out, for here they come bursting into the Weyrbarn followed by their mother. She's a little winded from keeping up with them and makes an effort to catch at least one of them before they both overrun their father and his leatherworking. She manages to latch onto Muir. Marella evades her and makes a beeline for D'had with a joyous, "Papa!" Marella has a clear shot at her daddy's back and it's there that she lands with an exuberant thump, little arms entwined about his neck, her dark hair tumbled over his head and about his cheeks with the momentum of her greeting.

Order has very little to do with anything, though the quiet that comes with the lack of children in the room is helpful when it comes to working with leather. Of course the shattering of that silence by unseen littles, he was sitting with his back to the door after all, comes at just the wrong moment. Tools slip from hide to finger and before he can cut himself off a curse makes its way from Donn's mouth followed by muttering of more so that little ears don't hear and he reaches for the rag across the table that would have eventually have been used for oiling the finished product. It’s only a moment that all that happens and that greeting from Marella is met with something of a smile, "Hi sweetie."

Marella's oblivious to the cursing and the fact she caused an accident. Her soft cheek is pressed to his stubbled one. "Daddy I learned a song wanna hear it?" Thea draws up beside them. "Oh, you're hurt. Let me take a look?" Muir, his hand securely in the grip of his mother's, does not miss the curse, though his voice is higher-pitched in comparison to that of the man's deeper tones, he parrots it in a near-perfect imitation of D'had's.

D'had sighs as he reaches his uninjured hand behind him in attempt to pull the girl to his lap. "I'll be fine," he tries to assure Thea though the rag that's held to the cut might lead in another direction. It's a sharp look that's sent towards Muir at his echo however, one that dares him to say that word ever again. "Sure baby," he replies to their daughter, it’s really not so easy to say no to that sweetness.

Muir looks unabashed. But thankfully he doesn't repeat the word, instead his attention is sidetracked by the leather scraps scattered on the floor under the table. He seems quite absorbed in this, so Thea allows him his other hand so that she can help lift Marella around and onto her father's lap. Then she retrieves the knife, giving the blade a critical eyeing, flickering a concerned one at that rag hiding D'had's cut. She gathers whatever other sharp objects there might be lying around and heads towards the cupboard with them. Marella, meanwhile, leans to peer at her daddy's near eye, lining up ice green with dark brown so that her lashes tickle his. "It's the Seeing Song. It goes like this:" She starts singing in a clear bell-like soprano: "I see you, I love you, I see your heart, I see your hands. Your hands love me, how do I know? I know because of what they do."

D'had got himself good, not that he'll let on to it at all. He wasn't meaning to leave those tools out with the twins around either, he just wasn't expecting them back so soon - obviously. A glance is spared for Muir to make sure he's not getting into anything under there that he shouldn't, but then Marella is pulling his attention back to her and he replies to that song with a chuckle. "That's very nice sweetie."

His blood has marked the blade and Thea noticed that as well as how sharp it is. Seeing that he was using enough force to cut through leather, she can guess it's cut deeply. Marella finishes her song all the while her eye is peering into her daddy's, "They hold mine when I'm scared at night, they lift me up when I fall down, they wipe my tears when I cry but best of all they hug me tight." Thea coughs, "She, ah, wrote that in harper class today. For you." Muir is making a puzzle, fitting those leather pieces together on the floor. Marella is still apparently looking for something. Her eye is still lash-tickling D'had's.

D'had ahs, nodding to Thea's hint about the song all the while trying to keep under wraps just how much that cut hurts now. "Thanks baby," he comments on the song, his uninjured hand reaching across Marella's shoulders in a one-armed hug as he leaves a kiss on her forehead. "Love ya too." He already said it's a nice song. That's good, right? "Babe?" his next question is sent after his weyrmate, "Can ya get me a clean rag for this oil?"

"Paaaaapaaaa!" That would be an indignant Marella when D'had moves his head to give her that kiss. Her little hands reach up to cup his face and draw it back to her eye. Thea levels her weyrmate a meaningful look, likely regarding his cut, not anything to do with Marella. "I'll get you a clean rag, but I don't know if your’re going to be doing any oiling with it tonight." Yeah, she's given him the rope he wants in pretending it's nothing, but she's only going to let him play with it so long. She flicks Muir another glance - he's good - and then heads over to the kitchenette to get a clean rag.

"What baby?" is Donn's distracted question of Marella when she tries to drag his attention back to her. "Thanks," idly tossed back to Thea. What's he supposed to say? Get me something clean to put on here because I sliced my hand open when I was pounced? That'd be good for the kids.

She know he isn't going to say anything, but he's not going to get away without her looking at it, either. While her mother is off, Marella says sweetly, "I'm looking for your heart!" Peeeeer.

D'had chuckles, though there's a wince in there as he clenches his hand a little tighter around that rag. "Is that so," he half questions, half comments to Marella. Then to Muir, if he's going to play with the pieces might as well make him do something useful, "Pick 'em up and put 'em in the scrap basket for me, will ya."

"Here Marella," Thea is back with that rag, but also some first aide supplies. Her fingers tap D'had's chest lightly. "Put your ear here, it's where I do when I snuggle. You'll hear it talk to you, okay sweetie?" She casually turns her daughter's dark head away from D'had's hurt hand in helping the girl into place, flicks a glance to see Muir still absorbed with fitting those scraps together. His back is to them and so Thea simply says, "I'll have him do it in a bit." Then quietly, "Donn? Let me see it."

They just got home or he'd try to send them off somewhere while someone else took a look, but since that's proving difficult Donn will just continue to try and keep it all hidden from Marella and Muir but damn. When Thea asks to see it he reaches up over to her, opening his hand, wincing at the movement, to let her remove the rag he'd had on hand and take a look at the damage.

Yes, Thea's got that figured out Donn. She's watching the pair of them out of the corner of her eye to make sure they're sidetracked. It's the best she can do for the moment. Muir? Still feeding leather scraps to his growing puzzle-creation. Marella? Ear pressed to D'had's chest, lips moving and her birdlike voice is talking back to D'had's heart. Aww? There's concern in the flicker of a glance she sends him for that wince as he opens his hand. "They say with hand wounds if you can feel the pain that's a good thing." Yes, let's encourage the man to like pain. Thea carefully removes the rag… the sound of her swallowing is loud in the nearly silent room as she simultaneously gets a look at the deep slice and bright red blood spurts out. She clamps the rag back firmly and mutters lowly, "Shards, Donn." She's gone chalk-white, eyes lifted to his.

D'had cuts Thea a look. Oh yeah, pain is good. Right. He almost believes that right now. "Go up ta yer room with yer brother," is his directive to Marella, a foot nudging the boy to get his attention in on that comment as well. It’s worse than he thought given the look on Thea's face when she takes a look at it. "Now," he adds to the twins. He has to talk to their mother or something.

Thea nods encouragingly to D'had; she was quoting the healers on that. "Do as your father says," she seconds that, shifting Marella off her weyrmate's lap. "Shep! Go find Hali. Bring Hali now, Shep." She's keeping her voice calm for the children's sake, but silently reinforcing that it is urgent and probably having Seryth help too. The brown firelizard disappears, along with the younger gold one. "Come on Muir, I'll tell you what Papa's heart told me!" Marella chirps to her brother as she skips over to the ladder, Muir for once listens and follows without questioning or a backwards glance. When they're finally up in the loft, Thea says quietly, "You're going to need to have this seen by a healer, Donn."

Once little ears are out of hearing range D'had turns more of his attention to Thea. "You sew," he comments, "You can't fix it?" Because he really doesn't want to go there if he doesn't have to. "Just needs ta be stitched up?" Because that's what he's been telling himself this whole time.

"Donn. I've never stitched skin, let alone muscle. And you're not doing it yourself either. Shards there's a lot of blood," she mutters giving that soaked rag a look. Thea's trying not to sound as sick as she feels. Yeah, she's colorless, pretty much. Upset, worried, she's keeping it together while searching his face for signs of shock. "I think you cut an artery and that's going to be minor surgery there. No idea about the tendons or nerves. If they're anything like dragon's talons, human hands will have a lot of them."

"Fine," D'had relents maybe too easily for him, but then he has an idea that it’s far worse than he first thought by this point. That said he's attempting to get to his feet and will rely on her in part to help keep his balance on the way to the door. Hali doesn't take long to get there, pushing through the door after a rap of warning on the outside just before. She's rushed, that's for sure, but composed when she enters the weyrbarn. "Is everything okay?" she inquires, clearly the 'lizards made an impression.

Thea had braced for an argument that never materializes. She blinks in some surprise, but hey, she's not going to look a gift runner in the mouth, either. She concerned about the wobbling, bites her lip as she snags an arm around his waist. Though really if he passes out, she's not going to be able to keep him from going down. All she'll be able to do is cushion the fall, protect his head. They’re almost to the door when Hali enters. The Weyrwoman is the one who answers her weyrmate’s daughter, "Your father's cut himself, Hali. I'm going with him to the infirmary so they can have a look at it. Will you please watch the twins? They haven't eaten yet, either." She sends a sidelong look at her weyrmate. Sure the girl knows he doesn't voluntarily go see healers, but she doesn't want to alarm the young woman with the details. Once they're outside though, she voices her immediate worry. "I'm not so sure walking there is such a bright idea, Donn. How do you feel?"

Hali ohs, glancing towards that cloth they have on his hand at the explanation of what's going on. She's skeptical, but if he's going to go she's not going to stop them from getting there. She nods about the twins and offers a "Don't worry, I'll take care of it," before she heads on up the stairs to check on the pair. "I'll be fine," Donn argues, "Ain't that far." Far enough though and while his steps are sure he's not exactly steady.

With a fond growl Thea tells him, "You are a stubborn, stubborn man, you know that?" Walking an unsteady Donn on the coastal road… It's been turns since having to do that. Her lips form a crooked smile in remembrance but she's watching him very carefully, nudging under his good arm to wrap and arm around his waist. "Go ahead and put your arm around my shoulders. And let me know if you start feeling lightheaded?" And just to be on the safe side, she steers him off the road and onto softer ground.

D'had snorts. "Yeah well," if he weren't in this situation he'd have a better comeback, but right now he's concentrating more on his walk to the infirmary. As for feeling lightheaded… "When I stood up," he replies slipping his arm around her shoulders for assistance. But as she said, he's stubborn and he'll do it himself if he can.

Thea grins at that snort, but she's got nothing further witty to say in return. "When you…" Of course he felt lightheaded when he stood up! And he didn't say anything. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, leaning to peer at his complexion in the gathering dusk. "How do you feel now?" Between checking on him, she flicks a look ahead noting their progress.

How does he feel? That's a loaded question. He feels like he's going to pass out, but she can't possibly expect him to actually say that aloud her, can he? "Dizzy," D'had admits surprisingly enough, blinking in attempt to refocus on the path ahead of them. He -will- make it though, at least he's going to try and convince them both of that.

"Sit down." That's Thea using her most Weyrwomanly command voice. Yeah, she doesn't use it often. It might seem like a joke, really. Especially to whom she's trying to use it on. She lifts his arm to peer at the hand he's clutching in the rag. "You're bleeding! The rag is soaked, Donn!" She should have been the one to put pressure on his hand, apparently not he and she's kicking herself for it. "I'm sending Shep for a couple of healers with a stretcher." And poof! The brown pops out overhead.

"Ain't dyin'" D'had protests, and if she'd just let him get it taken care of in the first place they wouldn't be having this issue now. He doesn't, however, argue with the idea of sitting down and letting healers come to him this time. "I know," he complains about the bleeding. "Sharding well know that."

It's Thea's turn to snort. "Better not be!" She guides him down so he can sit with his back against a tree, reaching to replace her fingers around his cut, applying pressure tighter. This may be a thankless task, earning her a grumble because it probably hurts him. Oh well. And if she had tried to sew his cut, his finger would resemble hamburger by now. It's not too long before a trio of sturdy healers come running with a stretcher. One takes over for Thea in pressurizing that hand, the other two situate D'had on the stretcher and off they go.


Xanadu Weyr – Infirmary

The infirmary here is intended for human care. It is spotless and smells of disinfectant, cots are lined up against one wall, a curtain can be pulled to give some privacy to the occupants of the cots if they so desire. A cabinet stands off against another wall, instruments and medications stored against when they will be needed. A couple of curtained off beds are used for examinations of patients and the treatment of minor injuries which won't require long term care. A desk with chair is just off of the doorway for the healer to sit and catch up on record keeping after a long days work.

Leave it to the former Weyrsecond to make a dramatic entrance to the infirmary. It's the last place on Pern he'd be likely to go voluntarily (unless of course he was forcing Thea to go). It’s on a stretcher that he's brought in. Complaining about it of course, but that just means he hasn't lost consciousness yet. This is not how his evening was supposed to go.

Xe'ter is actually on his way out, having paid a visit to someone in the infirmary…perhaps that young babe he's claimed as his daughter? But the sight (and sound) of D'had on a stretcher is enough to make the young Weyrleader pause and turn about 180 degrees, coming up to see what's going on. Not that he asks D'had…he looks to those hauling the bluerider in!

Tonight the shoe is on the other foot, not that Thea is enjoying wearing it. No, her face is showing some strain as they bear D'had in, her eyes remain on the man's face, tension in her shoulders but on the surface she's at least calm. Bearing any complaints the man voices with a patience or perhaps a sort of numb tolerance, she's so focused on what they're saying as the On Duty heads over to inspect the man.

The stretcher bearing D’had is directed to a cot where his hand is placed on a sterile pad, laid out to be examined. There are others bringing supplies while the redwort is swabbed on hands and then red-fingered, the healer parts the flesh to have a look. Ouch, that has to hurt! A squirt of bright red blood hits the ceiling, pressure is applied immediately. The healer calls out, "Tourniquet!"

That's enough to make Xe'ter both pause and go a bit pale, but he's also quick to direct his question to THEA, not the healer. He gets the heck out of the healers' way, "What's this?" Yeah…it's D'had bleeding on a stretcher, that's what it is!

D'had is has likely passed out at least once by now. Hard to say for certain, but in situations such as this those things tend to happen. "Jus close it up n’be done with it," comes his semi-slurred complaint. He knows its sliced good, but clearly he's still not fully aware of just how bad it is as the healers bustle about him.

"Cut himself working leather," Thea asides to Xe'ter without taking her eyes off of D'had or what they're doing with his hand. She's been shuffled back and willingly so as they need the space to work on his hand. But the slurred speech has her seeking a way around them to get to him. "Donn…" Her voice cracks on his name and she can't continue, just presses her lips together.

They attach a tourniquet and when it is secure they are able to open that wound up. When they do, there is the white gleam of bone, the flaccid ends of a small artery and a severed tendon. "Prep him for surgery," the healer calls over his shoulder while deftly cleaning the laceration. Fellis is being drawn up, surgical instruments assembled. Yeah, D'had is going to REALLY avoid the infirmary after this.

Xe'ter stands back, keeping himself well out of the way, but at the announcment of surgery, he cannot help himself. He drolls, "D'had, if this keeps up, I'm going to have to get you a padded room like they have for J'em over at Eastern. Because he keeps breaking himself too…"

D'had would beg to differ and even argue about having broken himself. It's just a fleshwound! That's what he'll likely be saying in a few days when all this is over and he's had some rest. For now he's not arguing at least, which may or may not be considered a good thing, and he's letting the healers do their job. Thank Faranth for their drugs!

Thea knows they haven't yet injected her weyrmate and thus his compliance does bother her. Surly growling complaining while they poke and prod at a painful wound would be a normal reaction and thus his quiet acquiescence is alarming. "Donn!" She tries again to at least get him to look at her, beginning to tremble. She's fighting to stay calm at this point.

And only takes a few minutes while the healers set up an IV, finish cleaning the wound site and inject some fellis into his veins. Nightnight D'had. When you wake, your hand will feel 10 times the size but it will function. Screens are pulled ‘round and the rest of them are shut out. Now begins the waiting. And the Thea-pacing.

Read the vignette Vigil here

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