Slip, slide, run. Andariel doesn't even wait to find out if a healer is wanted she's off to get one as quickly as she can manage.
'Aolie?' is Sanriel's first though, followed by all-consuming elation. And then, sadly, reality sets in. Pulling away, she says rather sadly "You've scrambled your head like an egg. I knew it." Glancing up for Andariel, she sees that the girl's already disappeared, and scoots up onto her knees, trying to move Daer just slightly, to cradle his poor addled headin her lap.
As Sanriel breaks the kiss, Daer pouts, but when his head is stuck in her lap, he sighs and closes his eyes, appearing quite happy lying there on the ice. After a moment, though, he shifts and says, "My butt's cold." The pair, Harper and rider, are on the ice just one side of the pagoda bridge.
Ilesyn leads Andariel back into the garden area, though she walks fairly slowly, evidently somewhat unwilling. She's not quite dressed to be outdoors - in fact, she's really dressed for the indoors, and is this shivering - and strides through the snow at a slow gait. "Fardles, why me? I'm supposed to be a /candidate/, and thus not allowed to practice, after all." Perhaps it's a meaningful glance she casts towards C'daer, though, heaving a sigh, she steps closer. "Fardles."
Andariel races back into the garden hollow, shouting as soon as she makes it there and begins to hop/skip her way down towards the pagoda. "I got Ilesyn, she's the only one not up to their elbows in redwort already.", then much quieter, to the healer specifically. "I know, I'm sorry, but it's really an emergency."
M'ial walks in, swaddled by his riding leathers, eyeing the scene before him. "An emergency?" he asks curiously, turning his eyes on each person there.
Sanriel is intact, a small cut over her eyebrow (that bleeds freely, as head wounds are wont to do) and her missing skate the only obvious evidence of the calamity. "Why'd you have to bring /her/?" she protests almost under her breath. "I'd rather /die/." Glancing down at C'daer, though, her thoughts are turned from the Healer/Candidate. "Are you all right, dear? Other than your... butt..." She asks in concerned tones.
C'daer opens his eyes, fuzzily shaking his head, and pushes up off of Sanriel's lap. His wooly garish hat is lying on the other side of the bridge, and a lump is swelling on the back of his head. "Owwwwww. Did I crash?" He peers at Sanriel more closely, oblivious to the others so far. "You aren't Aol... uh.. why is your hair.."
"I won't have this go only one way," mutters Ilesyn beneath her breath, apparently in response to Andariel, but not actually spoken to her. "Your sentiments are well clear, Harper and your hair is just awful," comments the Healer darkly, striding across the ice - and thankfully not slipping - to where the pair are situated. "Andariel seems to think you're dying, Weyrlingmaster. You don't look good, but you don't see to be dying, either."
"He is. His head..." Andariel breaks off, rationality beginning to return slightly as she winces at Ilesyns comment to Sanriel, but C'daer is her first worry at the moment. "He's not? But he was talking all funny and he really hit the bridge with a thump."
"Scrambled. Like eggs." Sanriel repeats, wiping a trickle of blood out of her eye and, looking at it blankly for a moment, wiping it offon the sleve of her jacket. "Thank you, Ilesyn. Yours is looking particularly disastrous today, as well. Where's my hat?" The Harper looks around for that particular article.
"Did I just.." Daer starts to ask the important question, puzzled, but breaks off and stares up at Ilesyn as she approaches. " don't think I'm dying," he says, and with a wince moves a few more inches away from Sanriel after an apologetic glance her way. Settling himself, leaning against the bridge, the rider tentatively lifts a hand towards his head.
M'ial blinks at the scene /again/, turning around and leaving, "Death is a strange thing." is all he says, departing.
M'ial walks off upwards to the higher reaches of the mountain valley meadow.
Ilesyn withholds a sigh, though her expression is nothing less than frustrated. "No, Andariel, he's not," says the Healer-candidate, almost sharply. "No, I don't think you're dying either, C'daer. Looks like you've an awful bruise, though," she adds, reaching out her hand to touch the lump, unless C'daer moves first. "Thank you, Sanriel, I'm glad it is. It never looks anything but, after all."
Andariel bobs around, peering at the strut of the bridge that was C'daers attacker for any signs of splattered brains, a simple "Oh." her reply as a deep crimson flush creeps up her face. Hovering around for a moment longer she finally moves to retrieve Sanriels hat from where it had spun to, offering it back to the harper with a rather embarrased smile.
"Thanks," Sanriel mutters, stuffing the hat on her head over cut and all, and tucking the ends of her hair up under with quick, jerky motions. Wiping a slowing trickle away from her eye, she moves to stand up - then realizes she still has one ice skate on. Ripping it off, she looks up at Andariel and asks "Well, who won?"
Lowering his hand to let Ilesyn poke at his head, Daer peers carefully over at Sanriel, re-voicing his earlier question in completeness. "Why is your hair black?" This is seconded by a worried, "Am I bleeding?" and then petulantly, "Can I get up? This ice is -cold-."
"Sanriel, you have blood running down your face. You'll need to come back to the infirmary with C'daer and I and get yourself cleaned up," commands Ilesyn, though her eyes haven't left C'daer, as she touches - peculiarly sensitively - C'daer's lump. "Are you dizzy? You can get up, but you'll need to lean on me, and we'll get you back to the infirmary to rest. You may have been concussed."
"Won." Andariel blinks a few times before she remembers the actual cause of the crash and bump. "Oh. I guess Daer did, he made it to the bridge first, even if he did use his head. Maybe we should call it a draw since you both got injured though."
"Meh." is Sanriel's huffy reply to everyone as she struggles to stand up in her stocking feet, badly laced ice skate in one hand. Stepping gingerly across the ice after the dark blur that must be her other skate, she mutters. "One skate, two skates. Sharding old... Where'd I leave my boots? 'Ooh, lean on /me/ poor, poor Daer. Poor Dear? Ha! Scrambled like an egg!"
C'daer says, thoughtfully, "I think I need to change into my boots -before- I get up. I'm not dizzy," he clears his throat and doesn't look over at Sanriel, stressig, "/anymore/, but I don't fancy trying to skate like this. Um.. Andariel? Would you.. they're just right by the pagoda," he says of his boots.
Ilesyn crouches lower, remarking, "Am I going to have to try and lace your boots up for you, too? I'd rather not you move your head too much, just in case." Sanriel is given a hesitant glance. "You didn't hit your head too, did you?"
Andariel nods. "Boots. Right. Pagoda." Anyone would think she was the one with the concussion from the randomness of her thoughts, but she does actually move and retrieve the boots from the pagoda. Making her way slowly over towards the injured C'daer she nods to Ilesyn, her voice very quiet as she confirns, "She hit first, off the ice though."
"Mmmm..... ... No." Sanriel says, willing to endure her distracting headache over the indignity of admitting to the mindhealer that she might be human. Abandoning the so foolishly defended dignity, though she hop-skips to her boots on the bank, as the warmth of her feet has started the melt the snow on her socks - and make them stick to the ice.
"I can put my boots on, really," C'daer protests, albeit rather weakly. He moves his head to glance at Sanriel and winces slightly. "I'm glad you aren't hurt," he calls towards her, apologetically, before he leans forward to start tugging at the laces of his skates.
"And if you do have a concussion?" retorts Ilesyn, playing up her role as healer - as if she's trying to make a point of some kind. "Stop. I'll do it, and do it faster, and you'll be the better for it. Rest - but don't shut your eyes. Sleep is bad." Evidently, she knows slightly more about physical healing than she lets on. "Thank you for telling me, Andariel. Sanriel? Are you /sure/? I want you looked over all the same-- you'll at least want to take something for the pain, if it aches."
Andariel smiles slightly, nodding to Ilesyn, and she hands the boots down to C'daer. "If you want, I could give you a hand, Let Ilesyn see to Sanriel." She looks from injured weyrlingmaster to healer/candie questioningly.
MUttering invectives, Sanriel stomps her boots on, then trudges back over, ignoring everyone else to squat down in front of C'daer and say. "Hey, I'm sorry. I wanted to win, but... Not /this/ bad. See this?" She holds out her left skate, whose lace is dangling in frayed pieces. "It was my lace."
C'daer supplies after Andariel's words, "Yes, that sounds good, Ilesyn can see to Sanriel." As that individual squats in front of him, he flushes and says roughly, "I know you didn't mean to do it on purpose." He's managed to get one skate off, and props his stinky socked foot over his knee.
Ilesyn's eyes roll, although she says only, "Thank you, Andi, that's very helpful of you." Her gaze falls towards Sanriel, once she's said this, eyes narrowing. "Does your head hurt, Sanriel? Are you dizzy? Can you see straight ahead, without your eyes hurting, or not staying straight?"
Andariel joins the group squatting on the ice and holds out one of the boots. "OK Daer, foot please." her eyes flicker to the broken laced skare that Sanriel holds and she winces, simply staring at it and holding C'daers boot out in front of her.
"Can you really, honestly ask me that, considering what you believe to understand about me?" Sanriel retorts unhelpfully, proving that at least her flair for hopeless arument has gone uninjured. The culprit skate is stuffed under her arm with the other, and she stands up.
C'daer pokes his foot in Andariel's direction, muttering, "I really could do it myself.." resignedly. However, he's also surreptitiously unlacing his other skate, while making a pretense of rubbing his ankle.
Ilesyn's eyes narrow. "Sanriel, I'm trying to /help/. This has nothing to do with Mindhealing. This is i--" it sounds as though she's about to say 'important', but she says instead, "urgent. It's dangerous, if something goes undiagnosed. Lean up against something, until C'daer's ready, and we get you both back to the infirmary."
Andariel applies boot to foot, twisting slightly and pushing, trying to get it into place properly. "You know this is so much easier on your own feet." is muttered quietly before an 'Im trying to be helpful, honest' smile is given to C'daer.
Sanriel complies, though not without her developing trademark of a frighteningly Ilesyn-ish grumble. She leans up against the bridge, pulling hat down and collar up, and shivering in boots and wet stockings.
Returning an 'I'm sorry my feet smell, honest' embarassed smile to the goldrider, Daer allows his foot to be manipulated into the boot without resisting. Apparently he's feeling better, as he sallies, "Isn't resisting necessary help a sign of serious mental illness?"
"You are indeed correct," assents Ilesyn. "Which just goes to show that my concerns have always had some basis in truth. Are you almost ready there, Andi? By the looks of things, these two will just need something to stop their heads from hurting, but I'd like to get them back to the infirmary as soon as possible." She's all business, though she can't help but add, as she wobbles to her feet, "As a healer, it's my number one priority to make sure that they're not really hurt."
Andariel ties the laces of the boot clumsilly, even going to the extent of turning round so she's almost in the normal position for tying them and then moves onto the already undone laces of the second boot. Quirking an eyebrow towards Daer she removes it and, much quicker than the last time shoves and twists the other boot onto Daers foot. "Almost done." is her quick reply as she once more manouvers to get the laces tied as well as possible and then stands. "Ok all done I think."
Feeling very helpless but without anything else to do, Sanriel scowls at Ilesyn and C'daer in turn. "I'm tried, I'm cold, I have a headache and I'm sick of being mocked. Therefore, I'm going back to the Weyr." Turning on one heel (and only slipping slightly on the ice) the Harper stalks off in the direction of the Weyr.
C'daer, using the bridge as support, wobbles to his feet and stands very still, as if trying to get used to the motion of a ship. "Not too bad," he asserts with bravado, "not too bad at all. Is she hurt, Iles.. mocked?" He frowns at Sanri's back and looks away. "Uh - thanks, Ilesyn, Andariel. I can make it from here."
"I'm not mocking you," says Ilesyn, seriously. "I'm trying to sharding well /help/. As a /healer/. Fine. Go back to the weyr. But don't blame me that your head hurts, because I was trying to /help/." She watches C'daer slowly, nodding finally. "All right. Go slowly, though. And no, I don't think she's hurt. Except perhaps in pride."
Andariel keeps on fussing for a bit, even to the extent of "Are you sure Daer? Want me to walk with you?" But Ilesyns words cause her to break off and move away from the weyrlingmaster slightly to let him go on his own. "Thanks for coming Ilesyn, sorry I had to drag you away from chores."
Ilesyn shakes her head, bitterly. "It's /fine/, Andariel. This is my job, more than any chores." She strides off, down the path, head in the air.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 04:43 PM