Assistance Required

Warning: Adult situation - this log contains R-rated matierial

Xanadu Weyr - Journeyman Jethaniel's Quarters

The stone of this cavern dwelling has been made comfortable, with rugs to cover the floor and hangings on the walls. Comfortable, but hardly stylish; the hangings seem to be a combination of faded remnants from the storerooms and apprenticework that wasn't up to standards. They still keep out the chill well enough, and apparently, that's what matters.
The room is lit from overhead with a soft glow - many small lights laid out in a pattern of the night sky. They're adjustable in brightness; from mere faint sparks for sleeping with, to a mid-morning shine suitable for many tasks.
Many tasks; but not all of them. There's also a pair of swivel lamps, mounted to a wooden workbench that juts out into the middle of the room. The lamps are adjustable to bring the light precisely where it's needed and cut down on annoying shadows.
There's not space on the bench - or in this room - for any major projects, but there's a never-ending series of minor ones, whether it's fixing the stars above when they burn out or else optimizing the small space heater tucked beneath his desk to keep his feet warm. One way or another, there always seems to be something there, its parts spread out across the scratched white plastic sheet of non-conductive surface. Not to mention the tools - a set of jeweler's magnifying lenses and tools for fine-work, scaling up through the wrenches and screwdrivers for medium work, tucked in a toolchest beside the workbench - or else in the worn canvas bag used for bringing the right tools for the job, to the job.
Sharing a chair with that workbench is a small desk. The desk is up against the wall, making an L shape with the workbench. Atop it is a computer terminal and a few books, along with a stack of notebooks that look well-thumbed… and a pile of paperwork that looks barely touched.
Tucked in the back corner, there's a bed. It's got plain white sheets (smudged with grease), and a navy blue blanket. It, too, is comfortable, and it never seems to be made.

At this hour, the journeyman's hallway has a moderate amount of traffic as people go back to their rooms to rest after dinner. Jethaniel's room has not had much traffic recently. It has, in fact, had no traffic, and as such, it exists in the same state as it did that night. He will not be returning to it tonight, either. His bed is not made. This is not an unusual state for it. Nor is it unusual for Jethaniel's workbench to hold a partially completed project. The one currently there has, presumably, been present since before his accident, as he has not returned to his room in the intervening days. There's a vise set against the table's edge, holding a mandrel with a cloth draped over it to obscure further details and, more significantly, to keep the dust away. Given the duration for which it has been left abandoned, this is likely advantageous, though Jethaniel was not aware, prior to his absence, of the length thereof. This may serve as an example of why procedures should always be followed, regardless of expectations. The soldering iron set near it is unplugged for safety. For optimal safety, it would not have been used within the close quarters of this space at all, but it is, at least, not currently presenting a fire hazard. He mentioned drawers - did he mean the ones on workbench, or the desk that meets it at a right angle? Presuming, of course, that the one with the tools is the workbench, and the one which has a row of notebooks along the back is a desk.

By now Darsce may be a common enough sight in the journeyman's hallway that she'd quite possibly raised no brows as she unlocked and stepped into Jethaniel's room. If there were brows raised, she'd been unaware and thus her amusement factor for this task remains low, unfortunately. It's just as well, though. She's been entrusted to carry out an errand for the man and she intends to keep from disappointing him. Once in, the door is shut and the lights turned on, a brief upward look for his star lights and a wistful breath escapes her. She's missed them. So yes, drawer! Her gaze drops to the workbench first, then the desk. Which indeed? Does he consider the workbench an extension of his desk or vice-versa? Top left, did he say? Or was that right? It's a letter she's looking for, that's all she knows. She's never seen Erijeane's handwriting. Are they still in the envelopes with return address? Or will she need to look for the signature on the bottom? So many things to consider as she approaches the workbench first. The covered mandrel she leaves alone. She isn't here to snoop, even if she does give it a curious glance. The top left drawer is opened first.

Darsce has reasons to visit this hallway in the course of her duties as headwoman. If she hasn't been seen doing those before, she may have been seen visiting this particular room for other reasons. Noticed or not, there's certainly no comments made audibly enough to draw her attention away during her arrival. The stars overhead provide light. It could, were one in a sufficiently sentimental mood, be construed as welcoming. The emotional content notwithstanding, the light allows Darsce to see as she begins her search. It does not, however, illuminate those things still covered. This drawer has an assortment of things - pencils of various grades, blocky erasers, spools of fine wire, a box of miniature bulbs. None of them appear to be letters.

As headwoman, Darsce has, of course been seen in this wing. Into this particular room? Proooobably not in that capacity. She's pleased by the blue glow under which she searches because they are pretty but more because they have been created by Jethaniel. She eyes that drawer. Okay, no letters there. She tries the left hand workbench drawer next.

There's a multimeter on Jethaniel's workbench, though it's currently tucked out of the way. It could be used to measure capacitance - though not precisely, and likely not in any of the senses of which Darsce's visits may be construed. Jethaniel did, when he defined the problem space, specify left - though the question of which left he meant will require continued investigation of the physical space. This drawer appears more successful, or at least to require more detailed inspection. It is somewhat deeper than the one previously opened, and there's a stack of documents. More precisely, two stacks - one of them of trifolded letters in envelopes, set toward the front. These appear to have been opened, the tops torn. There's also a stack of other documents - mostly larger form, but a few letter envelopes have been tossed on top. These appear unopened, having been placed there to be read but not yet actually processed. The topmost is in rather poor condition. Evidently the mail service has not been kind to it, as the return address has been entirely obliterated. Perhaps that confused the mail service? Or perhaps they had other reasons for confusion, because the 'to' address appears to have an extra line before Jethaniel's name. It's rather smudged, but it might start with a 'D'. And the last two could be read as a c/o? Maybe?

Magnetic fields require different devices to measure them? However, if in the course of his electrical research, Jethaniel thinks to measure the autonomic impulses generated by the human brain… he might find a willing accomplice in Darsce. *cough* Soooo… that drawer looks… huh. This could be promising? The woman gathers the unread mail, including the one with the obliterated return address because she assumes that Jethaniel might want to read those. The documents and opened things she leaves alone after quick scanning, unless they seem to have Erijeane written on them. These she leaves atop his worktable, then eyes the desk. Wanting to be thorough, she approaches the lefthand drawer of that and opens it.

The relation between magnetism and electricity is a relatively simple one, and is concisely expressed through Maxwell's Laws. A changing electrical field - as, for instance, a current generated by a conducting medium between a positive and negative pole - generates a magnetic field. A changing magnetic field creates an electrical field. These effects may operate in tandem, as the change produced by one induces the required change to alter the other. These properties are responsible for both the propagation of electromagnetic waves, and may be harnessed to create electrical power through the use of turbines where mechnical energy is used to create motion through a magnetic field and thus generate electrical current. However, despite the fundamental similarity of these fields, different devices are, indeed, required for their measurement. To measure the impulses in a human brain, Jethaniel would require further refinements to his devices. He would also, most likely, wish to collaborate with a healer, as brains are not one of his areas of expertise - though he certainly possesses one, and has an interest in comprehending Darsce's - including her impulses, of various natures. Her current ones, in searching his desk, appear to be rather efficient. She'll find a few letters of the opened variety whose return addresses include Erijeane's name, though the rest is rather variable. Projected locations, perhaps, though it's uncertain which is the most recent without further inspection. She will also find, at the bottom of that stack of documents, a sealed manila envelope. Written on it, in Jethaniel's handwriting, is, "Darsce". Further details are not available, though it does not seem particularly heavy. The other lefthand drawer provides evidence that the prior supposition was correct. There's a half-empty jar of firelizard oil along with a few bottles of ink and pen nibs. She might, along the way to that drawer, notice that some of the books set along his desk do not appear to be technical in nature, and may, in fact, make reference to being compilations of poetry.

Electricity is sexy, that's all the Darsce-brain knows. Its effects on - or rather within the human body interest her rather a bit more than on the human brain. However! A healer's involvement, if present, would bring her energy - electrical and mechanical to null. Or at least re-route those to less…fun…functions. The searching continues without such distracting considerations and though she gives the sealed manila envelope bearing her name a blink, she leaves that untouched and in the drawer. He knows of that, he probably doesn't need it presently. The jar of firelizard oil is placed with the stack of unread mail on the workbench as are all of the envelopes Erijeane's name. Jethaniel will know which to look in; she does not. Moreover, they're personal and she will respect his privacy. The poetry books are noticed only because she remembers him mentioning Erijeane's letters might be amongst his notebooks, which are at the back of his desk. She checks those, pauses and then selects one. She should have asked if he'd wanted anything else from his room for those quiet times in the evenings. Oh well, she can always return if he does. Lastly, she checks the right hand desk drawer because she still can't remember if it was right or left.

Galvanic skin response is also a field of research? It has potential, in the electric sense. Jethaniel's potential research with Darsce… could, in theory, cover a wide variety of fields. The ones he is most interested in researching with her specifically neither require nor are conducive to the presence of others, healer or otherwise. The nerve impulses which travel from brain to body may not be measurable in their electric form by direct observation, but he can attempt to make inferences about them by an assessment of her actions. It will likely be fun. Darsce's intentions regarding Jethaniel's privacy are, thus far, achieved, though the placement of that cloth is not entirely secure and a careless motion might bring it down accidentally. The remaining drawer holds a square wooden box, an assortment of paperclips, and other fasteners in the form of rolls of tape and bottles of glue. The tape is of several varieties, from black tape for electrical to silvery metallic tape when high tensile strength is required.

In Darsce's mind, Jethaniel has been fun from day one, even if that merely involved watching his absorption in condensation rings and having loaded conversations with him about electricity. Further research is required, however it has been stalled by his unfortunate accident. If she finds any letters with Erijeanne's name on them tucked amongst those notebooks, which she doesn't flip inside the covers of, merely parts them to look between, she adds those to that stack on the workbench. She takes nothing from his right hand drawer. The room is given another sweeping look but nothing jumps out at her immediately save the thought he's probably going to need his linens changed and bed made up for him to prepare for his eventual return. She'll offer first though. Time to return, so she scoops up the stack. It's a quick movement that might stir the air. Is it enough to stir the placement of that cloth?

There are various forms of fun. Darsce's observations - of Jethaniel - may continue despite his injury. Her observations of his room are somewhat more limited, due to certain of her intentions regarding him, or more specifically, his privacy as it regards his living space prior to the change in those habits caused by his injury. At present, the privacy of Jethaniel's person is somewhat limited. Perhaps this is part of the reason why Darsce protects it in the context of this room? Her investigations of the place are limited. Her investigations of the man… may be conducted when she returns to her own room, as he is present there. The injury does, however, present certain limitations to the ways in which she may investigate him, and put constraints on the sorts of fun which they may, at present, have. The book Darsce selected may provide a form of fun of which Jethaniel is currently capable. It is arguable to what extent the revelation of his choices among those poems will expose private parts of his psyche; however, to whatever extent it is, that exposure will be of his own volition. The breeze generated by Darsce's motion makes the cloth sway, creating the potential for a further revelation, but does not move it sufficiently as to create an unbalanced gravitational pull that would overcome the stasis created by frictional forces between that cloth and whatever surface lies beneath it. That portion of Jethaniel's privacy - whatever it may be - is maintained.

Darsce is interested in all the aspects of Jethaniel that he is willing to share. If she is protective of the privacy of his room because his personal privacy is limited, it is a reason that has not consciously occurred to her. He is not here to choose what to share and what not to share and thus she will not rob him of those choices. That is her conscious reason for protecting it. The stack is gathered, the secrets the room holds remain inviolable. She moves from the workbench to the door, carefully shifts the stack to her right arm, raises her eyes to the ceiling once more, then reluctantly flicks out the star lights. Opening the door, she steps out into the journeymen's hall, pulls the door shut behind her and locks it. She makes her way back to her room and steps inside quietly - just in case he has fallen asleep during her absence.

Xanadu Weyr - Hali's and Darsce's Room

This is one of the many windowless, standard shared rooms hewn from the same rock edifice that also forms the living caverns. The walls have been painted a sheer olive green, the color so light it's barely discernible while white-painted ceiling, doors and trim brighten the small room, large enough to squeeze two single cots and a dresser in. It comes with a six-foot high niche carved in one wall that serves as a closet, hinged wooden double doors fold open to allow access to the clothing hanging within and shut to disguise the chaos that reigns after having been riffled through. In one corner there's an oval, antique-brass-framed, full-length mirror, while in the other an ivory-colored overstuffed easy-chair is situated. Serving to cushion bare feet from chill stone is a pretty tapestry rug that reaches nearly to the perimeters of the room, the floral and leaf motif mostly dark olive with touches of gold, fuschia, peacock-blue and smoky-toned purple.

If kept neat, this would be a sophisticated and stylishly feminine-looking abode. Alas, while Hali's bed is made, teal and fushia pillows on her gold bedspread neatly arranged and her side of the room clutter-free, Darsce's side looks like a bomb went off in it. Coverlets are usually left rumpled and thrown back, pillows scattered anywhere BUT on the bed, piles of clothing discarded there instead as well as heaped on the chair and floor while searching for the perfect outfit for the day - the rug is usually but barely glimpsed underneath the carpet of cast-off clothing. The nearest half of the nightstand between the two beds is cluttered with hairbrush, nail polish, make up, jewelry, bottles of perfume, an empty klah mug or two and who knows what else. C'est la vie!

The stars go out. As will the stars in the sky above; while they burn at a different scale, their supplies of matter are finite, and the process of fusion will eventually end. What happens then depends on the scale of the star; some will simply burn out, some will explode, others collapse under their own gravitational forces to become black holes or to temporarily reignite. The possibilities are complex, and best observed indirectly. Fortunately for all of Pern, Rukbat's lifespan is sufficiently great as to exceed that of all those present on the planet by multiple orders of magnitude. Jethaniel's room is once more dark and (relatively) empty. The stars are smaller, but the space is far more densely packed with matter, though that matter is - after Darsce's departure - neither sentient nor capable of self-observation. Jethaniel's room may, as such, be described as empty in a way that Darsce's room is not, since Darsce's room contains Jethaniel. He's in bed (hers), but still awake. He has a clipboard with a piece of paper on it. He also has a pencil, held in his left hand. This may account for the fact that the marks on that paper look nothing at all like his handwriting and, in fact, bear only vague resemblances to letters in any known alphabet. They are, however, generated by the motions of his hand, a fact demonstrated by the fact that he is in the midst of producing a glyph when the door opens. Jethaniel looks up to Darsce. His hand pauses, and he smiles.

They will simply float away, if you believe the song. But not tonight, Darsce has a lot of living to do yet. She returns Jethaniel's smile as she enters her room - it's hers until Hali is once again in residence - and shuts the door. Her boots are shed beside the door before crossing to the bed. She offers the armful of letters to Jethaniel by way of laying it beside him on the mattress. "I brought everything I could find with Erijeane's name on it and some things that looked like unread mail." There's the poetry volume, but she doesn't mention it, probably because she's intent on her report. "Oh, and this for Stardust." The half-jar of oil is placed on top of the book. How IS Stardust being bathed these days, anyway? "If you want anything else, just tell me what you want and where to find it?" Her coat is shed and tossed on the chair; maybe she'll hang it up later. She's doing pretty well at keeping her room neat - motivation is key!

If one is to believe songs, there are many and contradictory truths established about the universe. They may not be the most reliable of sources, and seldom include citations. Jethaniel continues to smile as he sets the clipboard down. "Thank you," he says to Darsce's explanation of that pile of letters, and looks down to it. His hand reaches out, but it first touches the surface of the book she's brought, a light brush before moving to the letters themselves. His fingertip slips along the stack, but given that he is operating with only one hand, he may have to deal with them one at a time. The first is selected and lifted, though he glances to the jar of oil and nods. "I expect she will appreciate that," Jethaniel says, though his eyes go to Darsce to offer his own appreciative smile to accompany the words. Stardust's care - or at least those portions thereof which Jethaniel is not currently able to provide - is being supplemented by a certain tech apprentice who has had the role ever since the hatchling green required observation during Jethaniel's trip to the Yokohama. The apprentice in question, having a firelizard of his own, is aware of the requirements for their care, and - being an apprentice, and thus having a limited income - is quite glad to be provided with extra marks in exchange for a simple addition to his tasks. Nevertheless, Jethaniel, having been provided with this oil, will attempt to provide Stardust with that attention. The firelizard may take care of her own bathing, given the hot springs. It will not be perfect, but it will likely suffice. If Jethaniel is providing the oiling, his green is far more likely to appreciate it, rather than merely tolerate it because she itches. As for other necessities… he considers for a moment. "I may at some point require more clothing?" Which might be found either in his room or… wherever else Darsce has obtained the clothing he's been wearing these past days. Jethaniel has not been in the same ones since his accident, but neither has he inquired as to their source. It has not been among his priorities. While he's been speaking, Jethaniel has been attempting to configure the letter and his hand such that he can open it. He has not been met with any notable degree of success, and he returns his gaze to the letter now to observe that fact. "I… may require assistance."

Yes, but they make for great lyric, sometimes on the sappy side, but touching the heartstrings of sentiment nonetheless. While he looks over his stack of letters, Darsce does not remain idle. She's going to ready for bed, having made a quick trip to the hot springs before her errand. She's working early tomorrow, so there won't be time then. She's over at her dresser, drawer open to remove her nightclothes when Jethaniel speaks of Stardust. She smiles at him over her shoulder and nods. The faithful little green hasn't looked neglected, but surely she will appreciate some hands-on attention? Jethaniel will benefit from it as well. Her intentions ran something along those lines, anyway. "I have some things at the laundry to pick up for you tomorrow, but I can find something more from your room too," she replies while slipping out of her own and into that nightie in unselfconscious motions. She's been getting his clothes from the storage cavern, of course. Clothing - her specialty - isn't difficult to estimate sizes and he's found the things she's chosen of fine quality and of such cut and color as befitting a steward. Nothing brand new, but in excellent condition. Pants muted shades of grey, taupe, black and shirts of off white, maroon, sage green or blue, all finely-stitched, soft, thinner material than a workman might wear, comfortable, yet stylish and still masculine. She finishes as he speaks of needing help and she is immediately contrite. "Be right there," she says as her discarded clothes are chucked in the proper place - the hamper instead of the floor - before she crosses the room to her nightstand. It takes a bit of rummaging, her mind intent on the task, and she forgets the lamp behind her might make some interesting effects on the thin material of her short, powder blue shift. "Ahah!" She turns to Jethaniel, triumphant! In her hand - a letter opener. She sinks to the mattress beside him and holds out her hand. "I'll be happy to help." With the letters, she means.

Jethaniel will surely appreciate some hands-on attention. Darsce's intentions are - ah, yes, are in the context of him providing it to Stardust. Quite therapeutic. He glances up from the letters as she speaks of his clothing. "Ah." There's a widening of his lips toward a smile. "As you see fit." The clothing she has provided for him does, in fact, fit, in both a physical and thematic sense. Jethaniel has no objections to being dressed by Darsce in the sense of wardrobe selection. When it comes to the physical manipulation of his clothing, he is at least capable of dressing himself, though not efficient. "Thank you," he adds as he returns his gaze to the letters instead of continuing to observe Darsce as she changes. The movement of his eyes is not a hurried one; he is not avoiding the sight, which is still present in his peripheral vision, but he is not focusing on it. A faint smile lingers until his failed attempts with the letter chase it away and he looks up to Darsce once again. This time - as he has determined he cannot effectively proceed without her - his gaze follows her as she crosses to the nightstand. The fabric of her shift is significantly permeable to light. This has the effect of creating a diffuse glow, one which traces the edges of Darsce's body and draws attention to the contours while obscuring the textural details - though those could be extrapolated by an observation of those portions of her skin which the garment does not conceal, applied to the ray-traced model. Jethaniel's attention is so drawn, and he does not, this time, look away. His gaze might, in fact, be construed as a stare, and while he retains the letter in his hand, his thoughts are not inclined toward it. They are instead… Darsce turns back, and Jethaniel swallows as he lifts his eyes from the level at which they were observing her. The motion is unaccountably slow, but fortunately, Darsce assists him by settling down onto the bed. "…yes," he says as his gaze reaches her face. There is, despite this success, a pause before his hand moves… to lift the letter toward her. "Please."

Should Jethaniel indicate he's in need of therapy, Darsce will be happy to provide it! She is primarily focused on his recovery and the need for rest. She's also oblivious to both the properties of her sheer shift and Jethaniel's observation of it. See, this is why Darsce's father objected to her style of form-fitting clothing, the off-the shoulder, back-plunging, high hemlines, low necklines. She's never separated the visual effect it has on men from their attention to her and being in the modeling business has not helped. It's a sort of desensitization that leaves her unaware and unselfconscious, though she wouldn't ordinarily change clothes in front of just anyone. So as she settles onto the bed, scoots over beside him and tucks her feet beneath her, he's given a semi-concerned sort of smile. Slow responses might indicate fellis-brain or exhaustion, after all, so she asks, "How are you feeling?" Meanwhile she accepts the letter from him, drops her eyes to use the letter opener on it and offers it back. "Shall I?" Her hand waves to his lap. Where the rest of the unopened letters presumably lie.

Were it not Darsce, Jethaniel would not have kept his eyes on her. He was capable of looking away; he did not, however, wish to, and Darsce has made it clear that his gaze is permitted. He is not sorry. He is, however, aware that this was not an intentional act on Darsce's part, and as such, he intends to keep his reaction limited to his own thoughts - which, Darsce has established, are also permissible. He smiles as she joins him, his own warm. "Well enough." For what? He does not specify, and an alternative explanation would be that it is a statement that his pain is - while not wholly absent - not significantly above baseline. It could be an answer to the expression he sees; one that does not deny his hurt but advises that it is not cause for concern. This latter hypothesis is supported when he goes on to admit, "I am somewhat tired, but not excessively so." The letters are, indeed, on Jethaniel's lap. Were Darsce to choose to replace their presence with her own, she might discover further information regarding the effects she has had upon Jethaniel - but that is, he concludes by the use of logic, not actually what she intends. He reaches this conclusion despite the fact that, at present, the first thought that came to him did not, in fact, involve those letters… except possibly as an impediment. He has not taken a substantial dose of fellis this evening, though he has it available should he (as is likely) be presented with difficulty in sleeping. As such, his peripheral nervous system is not significantly suppressed, and certain parasympathetic responses are not being interfered with. Jethaniel's thought processes, however, are being interfered with, and so while he accepts the opened letter promptly, there is once more a delay in his verbal reply. "Please do." He presumes her intention is to open the remaining letters, because he is ignoring the portion of him which hopes, implausibly, otherwise. His focus - or, at least, the majority thereof - is placed on the opened letter, spreading the envelope and drawing out the document that has been placed within.

She has. Though should Darsce become aware of Jethaniel's reaction, her intentions might take a different turn. 'Well enough,' he says and she takes it as his pain and fatigue are bearable. It's been…some time now that easing the pain and seeing he's positioned comfortably for sleep has been the primary focus of their evenings that she hasn't really allowed herself to wish for anything else. And for the moment he has asked for something and so that is where her intent lies. Moreover, as he has before said she may claim a seat on his lap, she intends to replace those letters with herself. However, at the moment she has something sharp in her hands which she'll need to set down before doing so, which is why she's asked if she may open the rest for him. While he's busy with the opening of that letter, she takes the ones in his lap, slits them open and sets them on the mattress beside him. She leans away - it's a stretch - the shift doesn't cooperate by staying put to drop the letter opener into her still-open drawer. Then she's back to duck under his arm and curl up on her favorite place to sit. She doesn't want to seem in any way to be reading his mail, though and so reaches for that poetry volume. Her silence will not intrude on his concentration, right?

Jethaniel keeps his eyes on the letter, once he's extracted it. He has been developing the manual dexterity of his left hand - not that he is entirely incapable of using the right one, but the healer (even the non-irritating one) has been quite clear that he is supposed to be resting it - but many tasks are still rather awkward. It requires focus, and he uses that same focus to keep his attention (mostly) on reading the letter instead of conducting further observations of Darsce. The first proves unremarkable - it will want a reply, but not urgently. In the near term, any replies he does provide are likely to be dictated to his scribe (or Darsce) and be a concise statement of such facts as his lack of demise, state of injury, and concomitant delay before a fuller response. The intended mail to Erijeane, once he has determined the appropriate address, may serve as a template - though he is likely to be somewhat more frank with her than he might with certain others. This letter is set aside, on top of its envelope but not returned within, and he reaches for the next. It's the one worn in transit, though Jethaniel does not conduct a detailed assessment of the outside. Nor, in fact, does he watch his own extraction of the letter, because his gaze is, instead, drawn to watch the implied motions of Darsce's muscles to lean toward her drawer and the increase in what of her form is not implied. This is… ah. The letter has been obtained. He should, as such, read it, and so Jethaniel brings his eyes away from Darsce to regard the page. It begins - he blinks. Perhaps he is further distracted than he had thought? If he is not, he assuredly will be, for his arm (without any consideration for the state of his distraction, either to reading letters or from that) lifts to give Darsce an easier approach to his lap. His reassessment of the letter occurs approximately simultaneously with his conscious awareness of her presence against him, and Jethaniel turns his head slightly to look at her as his injured arm finds a resting place around her. "It is for you." The letter… presumably.

Darsce's fingers have just had time to brush the cover to that volume in anticipation of picking it up when Jethaniel speaks. She retracts her hand. "For me?" How? Why? But it was in his drawer? Her puzzlement is evident by the knitting of shapely brows and a slight frown. "Are you sure?" she asks even while she reaches dubiously to take it. He hasn't mentioned having trouble with his eyesight, so believes him, though she does ask, "Was it addressed to me?" Maybe it came inside of one of his letters, and could even have been sent in an official capacity as they are besides Jethaniel and Darsce, Steward and Headwoman. Her eyes shift from him down to that letter. Which is also, apparently, for her.

"Indeed," Jethaniel says, followed by a nod. He is quite sure. He is… less certain of how it, being for Darsce, arrived in his drawer, but that is why - once she has taken the letter - he reaches down for the envelope in which it came. Perhaps it will provide some clues - though, despite a lack of trouble with his eyesight, this one may provide him with difficulty. It may have run into some storms prior to the one that left it in his drawer, ones that made the ink regain fluidity in problematic manners. The return address remains quite obliterated. The one here… an inference was required to localize it to the Weyr, but fortunately his name was (save for a smudge that blurs 'i' and 'e' together) clear. The line that came prior to that name, however… is notable, firstly, in that it exists. It is secondarily notable in that, having been primed for Darsce's name, Jethaniel is capable of perceiving those letters there. The mail clerk was, evidently, not - or else decided not to short-circuit the c/o process. It is arguable which procedure is ideal, given a case where both designated names are known and, unbeknownest to the addresser, are in fact both in local residence. The letter itself - which Darsce may assess concurrently with Jethaniel's assessment of the envelope - was protected from the worst of the storms it passed through by that exterior. It is also succinct.

Hello Darsce -

You don't know me, but I fostered Jethaniel at Landing. He tells me you're getting married.
Congratulations. I wish the two of you all the best.

- Azliet

It doesn't take Darsce long to read the two lines there. Her iceblue eyes light up and her smile is radiant. "Wow," she breathes then lifts wondering eyes to his. "It's from your foster mother." The letter is offered to him to see and once more her eyes drop to the page, awed. "She doesn't even know me and she's congratulating me." She can't seem to get over the wonder of that. There is no skeptical wait and see about the simple well-wishing. "That's such a… nice gesture." She isn't used to nice, apparently. Not undeserved nice. And she's more than touched by it. She leans into him while he reads it. "I will write her back and thank her."

Jethaniel, having made what analysis he could of the exterior of the envelope, lowers it again as he returns his gaze to Darsce. The letter - ah, yes, she's offering it for him to read. He will do so, but first he leans toward her with the intent to brush his lips to hers. He is only so capable of avoiding the distraction of her touch, and that smile makes him less inclined to even try. He does, however, direct his eyes to the page, reading the brief lines. He does not, in order to do so, take the paper from Darsce, though he does set down the envelope. Instead, Jethaniel's arm goes around Darsce, holding her as he smiles for both the written words his grey eyes read from the page she holds and her presence felt against him. "I have mentioned you to her," he notes, a partial reiteration of what was said in the letter, then lowers his head slightly. The initial impetus for the motion is as an abashed gesture that he has not offered to make introductions - though, given the meeting at Cove Hold, he may have had reasons for such avoidance. No verbal apology is actually forthcoming, however; the motion of his head is repurposed into a kiss to Darsce's shoulder when Jethaniel is reminded of the possibility thereof by the sight of her.

By this time Darsce has forgotten that the letter came by way of Jethaniel. Given who it is from, it makes sense. She's momentarily distracted by his lips, which are met with exuberant affection, inviting his to linger but not detaining him from drawing away when he wishes. She's still smiling throughout, which probably isn't conducive to a prolonged kiss anyway. She does not, however sit back up; she's enjoying the closeness and thus remains snuggled against him. Pleased to hear his admission regarding his foster, "You have?" Her smile grows impish, "Did you tell her I fell into your bed?" She's teasing, but also doesn't seem to mind at all that he has spoken of her to Azliet. She is, however, curious what he said. What girl wouldn't be? "She sounds very kind. I'm looking forward to meeting her." She doesn't seem to think it strange he hasn't offered. Not because of the Cove Hold visit but because of his injury.

Jethaniel could turn his attention to the letters he has not yet read, or to scanning the ones from Erijeane to obtain her current address. He does not; that would require turning his attention away from Darsce, and while he does draw his lips from hers after an affectionate kiss, she continues to be the primary recipient of his attention. He nods a confirmation to her first question, and then his smile turns amused. "I did not." He is aware that Darsce is teasing. He nevertheless answers. "I did, however, mention that you liked the kilt." His fingertips trail lightly along Darsce's side, brushing against the soft material of her shift. "She is the one who recommended that garment to me." He did mention it was a fashion at Landing, back when he first began wearing it… and Jethaniel does not tend to spend a great deal of time pursuing fashion. A certain fashion designer, on the other hand… It is his left that is the more interesting one to consider, in that regard. His right is merely draped against her; it is the left that is conducting an affectionate random-walk. The timing would seem to indicate - given that those letters were placed in his drawer prior to the storm - that Jethaniel told Azliet (but did not suggest a visit to Darsce) prior to his injury. Whether Darsce makes that inference - and what she does with it, if she does - is uncertain. Jethaniel tilts his head toward Darsce as she expresses her interest in that meeting. He is not, precisely, surprised, but neither did he entirely expect it, and so there is merely a brief delay before his smile broadens and he nods. "It can be arranged." Mur'dah did say he had ways of transporting an injured person… if that's what Jethaniel's thinking. There are also other ways to arrange it.

Of the kilt, "She did?" The woman sounds alright! Perhaps even more so in retrospect to the visit to Cove Hold and the reception the kilt received there. Darsce does make the connection, upon reflection. But her reference to it is more in retrospect to his apology the other night after dinner with her siblings. She dips her head to seek his eyes, "I'm not reluctant to meet anyone you know, Jethaniel." He can reach for those letters of Erijeane's if he wants to. Far be it from her to distract him! Or well… with the trail of fingers up her side she hmms, pleased. Perhaps she won't redirect him. Tonight she'll just think positively. Arranging it means, "Oh will you be sending for her then?" That's less painful right?

"She did," Jethaniel confirms. Evidently, she's someone he permits to have a degree of influence over his wardrobe - though not to the same extent as Darsce in recent days. His eyes are quite willing to meet hers, the grey ones soft. "It would be reasonable if you were." The words are quiet, and he leans in to punctuate them with a light kiss. If his statement is not, precisely, an apology, the kiss is not, precisely, an expression of gratitude. It is, however, definitely affectionate. Darsce is distracting Jethaniel quite effectively, though she is not acting with the intention of doing so. His fingers graze along the edge of her ribs, a touch that does not have the intention of displacing her shift but may, nevertheless, have that effect. Sometimes actions have unforeseen consequences, and sometimes, the potential consequences may be predicted but are not given appropriate weight in the analysis. This is usually due to a lack of desire for their assessment on the part of the analyst, though it is sometimes due to the degrees of separation between present action and future consequence. For example: Jethaniel is aware of the current limitations of his body and the potential for pain given excessive action. He does not move his hand away to reach for Erijeane's letters; instead, as his fingertips drift up, they increase the distance to those documents. As for Azliet's potential summons here, "I can invite her, if you wish." It would be significantly less painful for him, which is not always an indicator for whether Jethaniel will select a given course of action. He smiles fondly. "I expect she might like to meet you." Despite having offered her congratulations without having done so. "As well as inspect the observatory here." There's a wry smile for that addition. Azliet is a starcrafter. It could be a secondary reason for her visit… should Jethaniel see the need to provide justifications.

Well then. Darsce is doubly intrigued. She definitely will look forward to meeting Azliet now. She returns Jethaniel's kiss, then tips her forehead to touch his, maintaining eye contact with those grey eyes. "You're not reluctant to meet mine," she says, not precisely a reminder. Her shift, being short before she'd sat down, has nothing to keep it in place, so the movement of his hand may well displace it. Her distraction of him may have been unintentional but it is certainly not unwelcome that he is…thus so. "Please do," she says. She means invite Azliet, but she says it at the same moment her eyes drift to his mouth and the hand still holding the letter playfully tickles his chin with it. He needs justifications? Psh! Darsce rarely bothers with those.

"True," Jethaniel deems Darsce's statement regarding his own lack of reluctance. The fact that he is willing does not mean he requires the same of her, though he is pleased to have it expressed. He is also pleased to have her here, and his smile may, in fact, be more for that fact than any prospective meetings. Her request receives a slight nod, one that does not significantly draw his forehead away from hers. Jethaniel will make that invitation, perhaps by requesting Darsce take dictation for a brief letter. It's that, or he will have to wait until the healer clears him for the use of his other hand; he is unlikely to wish to do so with his assigned scribe. He does, however, have things he wishes to do with the hand he is currently permitted to use, and Darsce's invitation - for so it can also be interpreted - does make his forehead draw away from hers, as his head tilts to press his lips to hers once more. This time, Jethaniel does not appear to have any intentions toward brevity. His justification? Darce is here.

Darsce will take dictation from Jethaniel any time! She'll even write a letter for him so he needn't wait. His shift to tilt his head draws his chin away from the folded letter she's tickling it with. Not that she notices, no. Her lips move on his, her fingers tighten slowly, the letter in them curling slowly. That arm may be forgotten, but her other moves without thought, sliding under his arm and around him. Not even the crinkle of paper in her ear moves the other arm. Jethaniel? Can kiss her like that anytime.

Jethaniel is in no particular hurry. It is true regarding the letter; it is also true regarding the kiss, though the press of his lips nevertheless has a certain urgency. Despite Darsce's willingness to have kisses such as these at any juncture, since his injury… the focus has been elsewhere. Neither pain nor fellis is conducive to the sort of attention which Jethaniel applies to this kiss. His lips press to Darsce's and part as his fingers slip around to her back and trail up along her spine to tease over the back of her neck and play in against her hair. The other arm - the brace a reminder of how he should not be using it (though, perhaps, not a sufficient one) rests down against her hip. That touch is a lighter one. Jethaniel would be well-advised to keep it so, but he is… perhaps not inclined to be as cautious as he should, given his desire for Darsce and the reciprocation thereof that she is providing.

Darsce has been patient since Jethaniel's accident, she should continue to be. Ah but chemistry being what it is, something short circuits her resolve and she isn't using forward-thinking. She isn't thinking logically. She isn't…thinking. CRUNCH. That's the paper in her hand which is then dropped to land who knows where. She'll find it tomorrow, smooth it out and save it with her diary and letters from her papa that she's been keeping since she was eight turns old. The hand is now free to move but there's no teasing to her touch. No, this is serious business as she responds with enthusiasm and desire, her arms hold him tight, her response is… more than encouraging. What is the old saying? Abstinence makes the heart grow…something. Darsce wouldn't know right now. If the healers berate them later does she get to claim, 'he kissed me first'?

Is Darsce intending to admit her current actions to the healers? Jethaniel certainly is not, even if they result in his return to the infirmary. Should it become necessary… he'll claim he fell out of bed? The frailty of that excuse will hopefully not be called into question (or have occasion to be), but Jethaniel is still at least slightly aware of his injuries. There's the dull and distant sensation that (he is aware) can be awoken into sharp agony by the wrong motion. This may result in his being cautious, though there is a notable lack thereof in his motions thus far. He has - since his accident - become used to that sensation. He has adapted. He ignores it, so he may instead focus on… a variety of things. There's how Darsce's lips press and part against his, the way she holds him close with eager arms, the softness of her hair and skin beneath his fingertips as they trail back down along her neck. These things all encourage Jethaniel in his lack of caution, which becomes even more notable as his other hand reaches down, catching the hem of her shift with a flicker of his fingers that allows them to slip beneath. It is a very small motion, and minimizes the involvement of his wrist. The shift is of very light fabric. It is… not as incautious as it might be? It is nevertheless a suboptimal decision from the perspective of encouraging his healing, but it permits the fingers of his right hand to brush against her lower back, and as such, Jethaniel finds it, at the present moment, advantageous.

Darsce's absolutely not going to admit to the healers anything, but certain of them might make suppositions. In which case she'll lielielie… wait, whut? Jethaniel make false claims? Is he… capable of that? Darsce would believe not, but to see that would be…interesting to say the least. Not so interesting as the present activity, which she enjoys currently. The brace on wrist and ankle should protect them in part. Knees and elbows make excellent weight-bearing substitutes, not that Darsce is planning but… things might not be so very challenging if Jethaniel does? Her hands slide down his back while hers arches. It might be enough to shift their position to a sideways sprawl. If he's got a shirt on her hands seek bare skin, while her mouth remains on his, inviting, tasting, saying without words what she wants.

Jethaniel could make an attempt at falsehood? It might depend on which healer was present, and what suppositions were being made. If they were targeted at Darsce… Jethaniel would make that attempt, if it seemed the most plausible means to redirect the ire to himself. It would not entirely be a lie if he claimed that he was, for instance, restless in bed and - ah, there. He has now fallen over, making his potential future claims technically true. The motion, as he and Darsce descend to their sides, briefly draws his lips away, which may permit her to hear the slight sharpness to his inhalation in that moment due to a flex that involves his ankle. The brace keeps it from excessive motion despite a muscular twinge, and Jethaniel's desire is sufficient to overrule the pain even before it has fully subsided. His mouth presses back to Darsce's once again, his lips and tongue moving in motions reminiscent of words. They have a similar degree of resemblance to those glyphs his pencil was making earlier, or the ink-blots on the outside of Azliet's envelope; which is to say, it is plausible to presume they might be, but actual interpretation is difficult. Darsce may, nevertheless, be capable of comprehending Jethaniel's desires from them. Her hands, in slipping beneath the undershirt he (for the moment) wears, have already found a portion of that desire, and he makes a soft noise of encouragement in his throat as his fingers trace, feather-light, up from the bottom of her spine. The twinge from his ankle should have renewed his caution. It evidently did not, as the hand so in motion is the braced one.

While the sideways tumble is perhaps not wise - Jethaniel could absolutely fall out of bed with this sort of move - it doesn't seem to deter Darsce tonight. Were he to fall out where he is, he'd likely find himself on the floor with his head wedged between the heavy bed and the nightside stand. This could make for some… interesting interaction with an immobile Jethaniel. Despite this concept, Darsce is not pushing him over the literal edge. The metaphorical edge? She's working on that. Loss of careful control is something she might enjoy observing- er…experiencing. Encouraged by that quiet vocalization and with her lips reclaimed, her hands move across his back then to his sides. His firm, lean torso is grazed by upward-moving palms, the movement meant to gather that t-shirt as she goes.

The interestingness of a concept does not necessarily correspond to the pleasure which can be derived from it. While complexity may correlate to required analysis - and, indeed, Jethaniel may take pleasure in conducting some analyses - not all complexity will yield to analysis, and not all interestingness is so derived. Jethaniel is, at present, both interested and pleased in his interaction with Darsce, and would likely prefer to not be stuck between the furniture. If she wishes him immobile, there are simpler ways, but as Darsce has not expressed such a wish, Jethaniel remains in motion. His lips work against hers, and as her hands slide up, he lifts himself on his elbow. This position will facilitate any motions she might chose to make toward the removal of his shirt. Jethaniel will further faciliate them, though he may hesitate when they require the removal of his lips from hers. His fingers, with the occasional accompaniment of the brace's plastic, brush across her lower back, and his leg slides forward over hers as part of the change in rotation he has applied for the purposes of continuing this kiss while yielding to the incentive provided by those hands to have his torso elevated from the bed.

There are some complexities Darsce enjoys. Designing a garment with intricate fittings, choosing from a color palate which type and hue glass beads will compliment the complicated design of stitching… and Jethaniel. Analysis for her is more listening and watching rather than trials to test theories. Unexpected situations tend to give her far more data than planned ones so any immobility resulting from such a tumble (as long as he wasn't hurt) would likely be seen as a gift rather than a wish come true. That is to say: she hasn't thought of it. She rolls with the elbow-prop maneuver which assists the shirt removal, and the kiss is only broken as long as he needs to duck out of it. Her hands are now free to slip across his shoulders and down his back.

The relation between complexity and pleasure can be… complex. Furthermore, there are a variety of means by which analysis can be conducted. Jethaniel has no objections to Darsce's techniques. She may observe him anytime? Particularly if she chooses to provide stimulus (carefully measured or not) and observe his reactions to it. His hand trails away from her back to her side as she rolls, then lifts entirely for a moment to navigate the sleeve. When it returns, it's as part of a further shift of his motion, the elbow settling to the mattress to act in a weightbearing manner that will permit the other arm to be extracted. After lowering his head to assist the shirt in being removed entirely, Jethaniel lifts it again to let his eyes travel Darsce's face - a linger on her lips, a sweep along her cheeks, a long gaze for her eyes. His body is substantively over hers, and for a moment, he hesitates. His desire is clear in his expression - his lips, slightly parted and expressing a gentle curve, his eyes hungry to see even if he pauses before touching again. He has only to lean down to have what he wants, but for a moment, Jethaniel hesitates. Darsce's hands move along his back, feeling muscles tense from excessive bedrest and work alike but now held tense to support him over her, and that touch invites Jethaniel down, leaning in against Darsce as he closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers once more.

That sweep will see overbright iceblue eyes through tumbled strands of silverblonde hair, flushed cheeks and a somewhat breathless Darsce. He may have his look, but her hands continue their slow downward slide across his lower back to his hips, fingertips slipping under the waistband of whatever he's still wearing. Her eyes slide shut as his mouth finds hers once more and her lips part to welcome him. This would be why she forgets bedside lamp is on, not that it matters, but the stars were so very much more romantic.

Jethaniel does not wish those hands to stop. He, in fact, wishes for them to continue; his shorts will provide minimal impediment to their motion. The resistance (slight as it is) of the fabric may be used in calculations regarding the current, but for the moment, Jethaniel will simply let those numbers be undetermined. He has more important considerations as he presses his lips to Darsce's, the kiss deepening quickly. The weight of his body rests against hers, supported partially by those elbows and knees - though it is not entirely optimal. He may be somewhat heavier than he intends; the position of his ankle is certainly precarious, though not - at the moment - problematic. The fingers of his good hand reach to blindly caress Darsce's cheek, brushing back her hair as they follow the curves of her face by touch and his lips and tongue conduct investigations that are of greater importance than caution. He does not wish to calculate how long it has been. He is aware it has been too long.

In contrast with her breathing and heart rate, Darsce's hands are leisurely as her hands do with his shorts much as she did with his t-shirt. Her arms are only so long though and she's unwilling to interrupt Jethaniel - not with the way he's kissing her - to break away so she can push them down further. So with a slight, deft twist of her hips, she frees one leg to flex enough that her big toe hooks in the waistband of his shorts with which she drags them down to rid him of them. Better! Yes, it has been too long! Her hands now trace places his shorts had covered, what she can reach anyway. Her shift - there's hardly anything to it to even be in the way - he can decide what to do with that.

Jethaniel's hips arch up to Darsce's hands and from the motion of her own hips, and the movements generate an interrogative that almost achieves being voiced. It produces a slight noise in his throat, but then her action is successful in its removal of his clothing. Jethaniel feels the cool of air against his skin. More significantly, he feels the touch of Darsce's hands there, and he moans against her lips as he settles down to rest against her once more. The noise he makes could be comprehension to answer his earlier question. It would be more accurate to construe it as pleasure. His fingertips trail from her cheek, back to curve with stray hairs around one of her ears and then brush along down the side of her neck. They'll encounter the shift soon enough, as they roam over her collarbone, but removing it would likely require him to remove himself, albeit temporarily. This would require a sort of delayed gratification that Jethaniel is… capable of, but does not, at present, want.

Questions normally produce answers; Darsce's is a groan that would be almost-impatience if it were not for the note of pleading to it. She's not capable of delayed anything tonight. No, she's had too many nights of that, thanks. On his skin, her hands convey both her pleasure in him and her need as they slide up the back of his thighs and continue to his lower back where her arms seek to draw him closer. Her voice answers his once more, but hers is incoherent. Who needs words? They're understanding each other just fine at the moment.

Jethaniel wants that closeness… though he is not entirely certain whether he is, at present, capable of it. He can feel the dull ache in his ankle, the cautionary reminder that pain - or the potential thereof - provides. He can also feel Darsce's touch; the warmth of her body, the smoothness of her skin, the sound of her voice. Where pain urges him to avoid, Darsce urges him to engage, and Jethaniel, in a failure of scientific impartiality, listens to the voice he wishes to hear. The potential for pain is ignored; the braces will serve to minimize further injury. It is more important for him to press against Darsce, for his hips to move in an iterated series of experimental trials and seek those suitable given the circumstances, for him to kiss until he is panting too much for it to be properly termed as such, his exhalations quick and layered with groans.

Darsce could probably be a better healer if she'd thought first and acted second tonight. She did not want to think, or perhaps assumed the braces will make everything alright as long as he's not doing any weight-bearing. He isn't, right? Because… his weight on her - as well as their combined activity - has her almost breathless to the point of small gasps, damp with perspiration as she arches her back, lifting her hips to meet his, her hands sliding up to grip his shoulders. They're…going to regret this come tomorrow, aren't they?

A determination of whether Jethaniel is doing weight-bearing requires a definition of what, precisely, is being defined as weight-bearing. Is he standing on that ankle? No. Nor is he leaning on that wrist. The primary vectors of force on those limbs are being directed through knee and elbow. He could balance in this position such that there was no impact to his injuries… were it not for the fact that he is in motion. As such, he is not maintaining a careful, zero-impact equilibrium. He is pressing down, as Darsce presses up to meet him; he is arching up, as a prelude to pressing down once again. The bed is moving beneath them, transmitting the patterns of their motion. Jethaniel's ankle is bouncing against it, a series of minute impacts with the surface of the mattress. It is a padded surface. The forces applied are minimal. Were Jethaniel's attention not otherwise occupied, he would nevertheless notice the growing warning signs that this course of action is not advantageous to the healing of his injury. As it is, those signals are buried beneath a flood of other sensations, chemicals that affect his neurochemistry and reactions. His voice is a moan as he presses against her, his body a shudder. Jethaniel is - at the present moment - not very analytic, but if he were, he would be glad that Darsce did not think first. If she had, she might have acted differently.

Darsce's helping bear some of the weight though? And helping provide some stability? Absorbing some of the…impacts? Eyes closed, her head thrown back, she's totally into the moment, clinging to Jethaniel with arms and legs both until her muscles tremble with the effort, the cry from the back of her throat mingles with his moan and then, though she lies still, she does not release him. He might have to pry her off? If he ever wants to keep her from thinking, he can start by kissing her like that again.

Darsce is doing all of those things and more. She is also the reason why Jethaniel is exerting himself, and the cross-product of the vectors of force he applies. Without her, he would be in a far worse state; without her, he would not have been nearly so vigorous tonight. Her lack of thought is one of the outcomes of that kissing, but not one pursued for its own sake. These facts are somewhat disjoint. So are Jethaniel's own thoughts, as he rests against Darsce. His breath is panting, his chest heaving as it presses to hers. His ankle is throbbing with a dull ache. The breathing will calm. It grows more even as he rests against Darsce, until he can lower his head to hers and kiss at the edge of her jaw without concern for how that may interfere with his oxygenation. The ankle is more persistent, though it is below the threshold at which Jethaniel would be forced to provide it with immediate attention. This is fortunate, given that Darsce does not release him - and he does not wish for her to do so. These facts - the apparent level of his pain and his desire to remain close to Darsce - are both correlated with certain neurochemicals. Jethaniel does not find his enjoyment reduced by an awareness of the biological basis. Nor does he move.

A some point tensed muscle have to relent or cramps set in. Darsce's finally reach that point, though she is slow to uncurl from him as her own breathing calms. At the touch of lips to her jaw, her eyes open and she tilts her head to Jethaniel with a lazy, serene smile for him on her mouth. "I love you," she breathes as her arms slide further up to loosely drape about his neck. Her legs unwind from his and she attempts to get him to roll onto his back with an experimental nudge of her hip against his. He's surely tired! If he goes over, she'll go with him, draped upon him as she was that other night. Too content to move, if he doesn't protest, one of her hands will leave him long enough to twitch the blanket over the both of them and she'll drift off as is. With the light on.

Jethaniel tilts his head back to Darsce, grey eyes soft and tender as they drift to hers, and his lips curve in a smile for some combination of the view and her words. "And I love you." He brushes his lips in against hers, a soft, brief touch that expresses affection, not arousal. He does not have the energy for another kiss like the one earlier. Her suggestion that he move is a good one, and Jethaniel barely winces during the process of rolling onto his back. The pained expression is quickly gone, replaced by the pleasure-cloud of touch as his arms hold Darsce close against him. Given their relative weights, this position is more sustainable. Given his exhaustion, the dull throb of his ankle is not enough to keep him awake. Come morning, Jethaniel may wish he had, at this juncture, taken a stronger dose of fellis in order to obtain a more restful sleep. That would, however, require him to cease holding Darsce, and as such, he does not do so prior to falling asleep. Even after he has fallen asleep, he continues holding Darsce. While Jethaniel will be aware of the cause of his increased pain tomorrow… he will not regret his actions tonight.

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