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.
It can't have been more than an hour since Xanadu learned that Seryth had been lost, and things are still, understandably, hardly back on anything like an even keel yet. Grief and confusion are still rife in both dragon and human networks, and while the status of Thea's children is not known by many, the status of one of them is known by some of the Healers. After being led to the infirmary by two of her employees, Marel has spent the past half an hour or so getting minor cuts and scrapes checked for shards of glass, and has thankfully come out of the experience with no bandages required. She hasn't spoken a single word since her arrival, the brownrider now sat on the edge of a bed, staring into space. On guard outside, Isyriath is likewise silent in his grief, and sends only an image to Kalsuoth, of where his rider currently resides.
Isyriath's reach for Kalsuoth's mind is met with a tangle of dark woods, impenetrable and thick. A swish of wings, a distant caw, and the image is taken in between those twisted and gnarled branches. In short order Mur'dah arrives, dressed like any other day, dressed for work, and if it were not for the deadened look to his eyes and the haggard, sunken expression of his face, it could be any other day. He ignores all glances, all words spoken - he doesn't even hear them, his mind locked away as his dull, dark eyes find his sister. Moving forward, he stands before her and just looks down, throat working but no words coming.
Marel's eyes catch on the figure of Mur'dah not so long after he appears in the infirmary, and even while others mill about and murmur, openly and blatantly watching the two of them, gazes darting from one to the other, she doesn't let any of them draw her attention. When he makes it to her bedside, she spends a few moments staring at one of his shoulders, like actually looking up and into his eyes will make everything real, but then she makes herself look up and crumples all at once, arms reaching to wrap tightly around him. The horrible, off-key squeak of a noise that she makes sounds like it comes from deep within her chest, and it's the only sound that escapes as she presses her face into the crook of his neck.
Mur'dah bends to envelop her in his arms, and only she feels and hears the hitch of his breath and the tremble in his body. His embrace tightens, squeezing her tightly against him as he curves his body around hers, protective. His head bends to rest against hers, and all he can manage is to hold her and remember to breathe.
For a long time, all Marel can manage to do is cling to her brother and try to keep back the sobs that threaten to undo her and reduce her to a wailing mess. She doesn't at all notice the looks from any of the Healers, some of whom have stopped to either monitor the two, or out of respect, to give them the quiet they likely need. Her tears won't be stopped, though not another single sound is permitted to loose itself along with them, and eventually she begins to soothingly run her hands across Mur'dah's back, hoping to offer what comfort she can when words won't be found. More time passes before she can find her voice, and even then it's only her voice, and not proper, clear words. "It's not— I don't— How did—?"
Mur'dah slides his hand down to the middle of her back and then stops, just /holding/ her, trying so hard to control his breathing. Keep it in. Hold it together. "I don't know," he finally says, his voice rough and thick. "I don't know but when I can go I'm going." His arms twitch, jaw clenching with anger. "Incase… just…" Just incase Thea survived. The thought of their mother out there, in a blizzard, without her lifemate, possibly hurt and dying… His jaw clenches and breath catches again, and he has to force himself to relax his grip on his twin.
It might not seem like the kindest of best of thoughts at the moment, but Marel murmurs, "I hope they've gone together." She doesn't explain herself for another few breaths, when she can manage words again, and she keeps her head down, in-case there's the need to shield herself from any anger or upset directed at her. "…Even if— I can't stand the-" Her first two goes at explaining herself just aren't successful, and then she has to try and just breathe and compose herself again. "For her to be hurt and then without her forever… She won't be— To have that hurt forever… I can't hope for her to be hurt and without Seryth, because I want her back. I can't."
Mur'dah isn't angry at her. His hold tightens on her as she speaks and he nods, his head against hers. "I know," he whispers thickly, breath catching. "I hope…" He can't say it, but he agrees. Best if their mother /is/ gone. Went between with her lifemate, both of their pain over. "I still have to go look." And if he finds their mother… He grits his teeth, heart pounding and breath catching. He needs to ask the Healers for a mercy draught before he goes. Just in case. Then a single word escapes him and he buries his face against his twin's neck, unable to stop his own tears for a moment. "Mom…"
Marel breathes in, more sniff than quiet inhalation, and quietly asks, "If she… If she's… there and she chooses… don't let anyone else do it." Another deep breath. "Please." She falls silent as she folds herself back around Mur'dah, holding him closer, and lifts a gentle hand to run fingers slowly through his hair, just quiet and settled for as long as he needs her to be. When she must, she finds the strength to tell him her own intentions. "I'm going to go to Coldstone, when they let you go. It's as far as I can go; I can't go Between too much without harming the baby." Harming being a better word than the full extent of what could happen.
Mur'dah nods, a silent promise to his sister to do what is right by their mother. It's his duty, as her son. He masters himself again, though it's a tentative grasp at best. "Are…can you?" he asks, looking at her with red eyes darkened with concern. "That's a long jump…" The 'I don't want anyone else dying or getting hurt' is unvoiced, but his look speaks it louder than his words could, as well as the tightening of his hold on his twin. He can't lose her too. He can't.
"Nearly four months now…" Marel murmurs, the glance she aims down at her stomach subconsciously done. "I won't go there and back in the same day. One of us should be at the Hold and be there for Grandmother. With us there, Isyriath can keep everyone updated about… what's happening." Whether it's good news or bad news. She tucks herself back in against her brother, resting her head against his chest. "…I can't stay here while you search. I can't." She closes her eyes against more tears, not that it really does anything to stop them.
Mur'dah nods, wincing. Grandmother. Of course. And their Uncle. How did he forget about them? Oh, right. His own grief. "Okay," he says quietly, nodding and stroking her hair gently. "Okay. That's…" A plan? "Yeah. Okay." He kisses her hair gently and takes a slow breath. Still in shock. Still at a loss. But at least he still has /her/. "We'd better be able to go soon." It's killing him, the thought that their mother could be out there suffering and they're grounded here.
"Uncle Tharen will want to help." Of that, Marel is sure. "So, I should help them too." It's a good front, how she's holding it together enough to put together that plan, but perhaps planning and thinking ahead is all that's letting her find any logic and sense in anything at all. Enough to loan her some equilibrium, at least. "You can't go and risk yourself as well. If you won't let me, then I won't let you. You go when they let you." She's firm about that, breathing finally steady, for as long as it needs to be to let her speak, anyway. "Just… stay with me today. Please."
Mur'dah grits his teeth. "We already tried to go," he admits, his voice low and rumbling. A man's voice. "Right after. They forced us down." 'They'. Leadership. A queen. They /had/ to obey. "I'll go when they say I can." He has no other choice, as infuriating as it is. At her request he nods, looking down at her and brushing hair away from her face. "Yeah." He needs her today too. "Your weyr? Mine?" Where should they go? Then he startles a bit. "Mom's place…" They'll have to clean it. Go through her things. Can he handle the thought of another living there? Not right now, so he shuts it aside. That won't need to happen right away, if Thea is truly gone. And if she isn't…She probably can't live there anyway. Where would she go? Mur'dah's expression twists and he wipes his face on his sleeve. Later. One thing at a time, don't get overwhelmed.
Marel gives her brother a look for his admittance, but she doesn't say anything, leaving it well enough at that without adding anything else to their burden. "I… Y-Your place," she replies, unable to process the thought of having to deal with going through their mother's home and possessions just yet. "I'll cook," the brownrider offers, clearly truly needing things to do to keep her mind occupied. "And bake. Or something." She makes to slip down from the bed, and finally catches the eye of one of the Healers, who makes no move to stop her from leaving.
"You could clean," Mur'dah says with the first twitch of a smile. It's brief, but it's there, showing that he /is/ still inside somewhere. His arm slips around his sister when she steps down, though he doesn't glance at a Healer as he moves towards the exit. His place. He can do that.