The First Blooding (2/3)

Writers: Clancey, Len
Date Posted: 2nd November 2011

Characters: G'wen, J'darin, S'vin, Perjella
Description: The extent of G'wen's Threadscore is revealed
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 4, day 10 of Turn 6
Notes: Mentioned: Carella, K'ale, Teseada, E'nae

J'darin

}:The Fall is over:{ Neath gently rode a thermal just under the
Weyrleader's wing, and glanced back at her lifemate. They had
survived. She scanned for all her brothers and sisters and found they
all had. Their first Blooding and they were all still here. Her eyes
whirled blue in pride.

**Okay, let's get back to the Weyr then.** G'wen listened to her
thoughts and took a few deep breaths, beginning to relax now that
it_was_over. Feeling
all the highly charged adrenaline beginning to leave his body, G'wen
tried to visualize the coordinates to get home.

And found he couldn't.

**Uh, hang on Neath, don't go /between/ yet.** What the
bloody shards was wrong with him? He chided his own childishness.
They had survived their first
Threadfall, what was the point in getting them both killed because his
mind had wandered off?

Something was nagging him, only he couldn't
put a finger on it. Maybe it was his back, but that score hadn't
seemed_that_bad. Even now, all he felt was a chill on it. Pinching
his thigh to the point of pain, he organized his mind to focus. He
tried to picture the Weyr bowl, crowded with dragons coming back and
still found he just couldn't. His mind wandered to the lake above the
Weyr, the way the trees would blow in the wind there and the deep blue
of the waters.

}:Let's go there.:{ Neath circled once more, real concern starting to
creep into her usual confidant voice. Carefully--least he know and get
angry with her--she scanned G'wen's body to see if there was something
physical that was bothering him. That score--the one that had
happened candlemarks ago--was it the cause? As she didn't have the
adrenaline numbing the wound like he had, she could see it was worse
than they had both thought. Keening under her breath she winked them
/between/.

"Neath!" he shouted when they emerged over the lake, his explosion
over both that she hadn't waited for him to okay it and over the unexpected
cold that had entered his back in the blank /between/. It shocked him.

}:I'm sorry:{ As swiftly as she could she flew over into the bowl
proper and began a rapid descent. When she got to where the Weyrlings
were she landed as softly as she could.

G'wen could feel himself shivering uncontrollably from the bitter cold
on his back as he watched the scenes around with an almost detached
indifference. He tried to pat her with his left hand when she made
such a nice landing and found he couldn't. Odd. His left arm didn't
seem to want to work at all. Under all that cold, pain was starting
to creep in. Maybe he'd better find E'naer to see if he was okay,
after all. Glancing around for the Weyrlingmaster 3rd, and for his
friends, all he could see in the crowd was S'vin leaning against
Kadeth, hugging his head. They seemed okay, so that was a relief.
Where was Cardella then?

He slid down Neath's shoulder to go look for her, and to go hug S'vin
who looked tired and sad. When his feet hit the ground, his body
gave out. In a heap he lay, face down, trying not to cry out as a
nauseating wave of pain washed over him. He could feel Neath's breath
as she nuzzled him, crooning anxiously. He tried to lift his hand up
to take off his goggles and found the effort was simply too much. He
had given everything to the Blooding.

J'darin was down on the ground counting them. Blooding was always the
hardest part for him - and any Weyrlingmaster - and he and Hasaarth
had worn themselves to a frazzle minding when they came in and when
they went out. He had noted G'wen away from the firestone sacks
earlier and had spoken sharply to him, but not too sharply. After
all, Blooding was hard on the blues and greens especially. There were
no shifts - they all were on duty, all the time - unlike when they
graduated to a fighting Wing and only flew half of fall.

Hasaarth had made him aware of something odd with the pair just a
heartbeat after they appeared in the sky above the bowl and he was
opening his mouth to question G'wen when the boy collapsed at his
feet.

Hasaarth was questioning Neath, but he only heard half of it as he
went to his knees beside the boy, noting how cold and pale he was and,
something odd, his jacket was far too large for the boy's slight
frame. Was _that_ what he'd caught him at earlier? Changing jackets?

But why? He couldn't think of too many reasons, and the worst of all
flashed in his eyes and he made himself look up and count the
Weyrlings all over again. Were they all here? They had had some
other minor scores, a couple being tended to in the Infirmary, with
keening dragons nearby, but nothing like this... not yet.

"G'wen? G'wen lad? Can you hear me?" He propped up the boy and tried
to strip him from his jacket, yelling for a healer while he did so, as
gently as possible.

When J'darin sat him up, G'wen felt another wave of pain so great he
thought he was going to be sick. Shivering uncontrollably, he begged
the man with his eyes to stop it, stop moving him about. He didn't
dare open his mouth, the pain was too incredible. As the jacket came
off and the winter air hit the raw score, the pure shock of it almost
made him pass out.

Just over J'darin's shoulder where was a spot on the
Weyr cliff, a stone jutting out. G'wen concentrated all his energy to
that one fixed point, trying his hardest to put all the pain there,
outside him. Vaugely he could hear Neath crooning and S'vin looking
over the Weyrlingmaster's shoulder at him.

He stopped moving G'wen immediately, as soon as the extend of the
score became clear. The scoring was not as fresh as he was expecting
and he quickly put two and two together. "Oh you sharding idiot!!!!"
He turned his head toward Neath. "And you're no better, green lady.
You should have brought him here when he got wounded! RIGHT away."
He turned back to G'wen. His tone was no nicer, though it was to
cover his distress, not that he was angry. "You know better! A score
means you come in, and STAY in." A healer arrived with numbweed and
fellis to stop the pain and J'darin gently disengaged from the
youngling, letting S'vin - would that boy ever mind his own business ?
- take his place holding up G'wen while the healers worked on him.
"If you're going to stand right around, S'vin, make yourself useful."
He said in an aside to the other weyrling. He was always nosing in
G'wen's business. It would drive J'darin crazy!

He would wait a moment for the healers to stabilize G'wen's injury
before questioning him further. Instead, he let Hasaarth question
Neath, and sharply at that, though the big bronze was also trying to
act as a calming influence by asking quick questions, and trying to
get answers.

In a quieter voice, to both weyrlings, knowing Neath was hearing it
from Hasaarth as well, "He will be alright, I promise. It will be
alright."

The healer, Perjella, gave J'darin a wary look when he said that. It
wasn't a terrible score in itself but the tell-tale signs of infection
from the cold /between/ were already evendant. And it was long,
almost the length of the boy's back. Not good, not good at all.

"Okay lad, you have to hang on to him for a moment, this is going to
hurt before it feels better, " she told the bluerider who was crying
in his own distress. A tad
exasperated with him for blubbering, the Weyrlingmaster for yelling when
he should have noted candemarks earlier that the boy was hurt, and for
the child himself for having been so foolish, she braced his bad
shoulder in her left hand as she--in one clean movement--swept the
numbweed down the long score on his back. Normally she would have
been more careful where the salve went but in this case, the burns
that the good skin might get from it were lesser than the damage
already done.

G'wen moaned and pressed into S'vin when the cold of the numbweed hit
his wound. Then the blissful effects of the salve began to take
effect. He could vaguely feel the warmth as his friend wrapped both his
own jacket and the discarded one around his good shoulder and his
legs. Sighing deeply he lay against S'vin's chest, only half aware of
what was going on around him.

Standing up, Perjella nodded approval for S'vin's actions as she
looked at J'darin. "Well he's certainly brave enough. I just left a
bronze rider with a fraction of the score this boy has and he was
screaming the Weyr down." She glanced back at her patient and noted
his breathing was getting better and there was a faint bit of colour
returning to his lips. "I need to get some fellis in him, can you
assess his green before I do that? We can't have her panicking if he
passes out, now." As she spoke she motioned for two burly healers to
get over here with the stretcher.

Hasaarth was already taking care of that part and doing it well, it
appeared. Neath was notorious for her stubborn bossiness but
Hasaarth seemed equal to the task. His bronze arrogance could work in
his favor some of the time. He was no gold queen to command
obedience, but he was big and stubborn enough on his own.

}:Yours will be in pain but you must be calm. It will help yours if
you stay calm and quiet and strong. Be strong, pretty one. :{ the
bronze added that last sincerely. She was lovely after all. }:Do not
worry for him. The one who heals will fix him. :{ Of course, that
was like telling Thread not to fall. Dragons would worry for their
riders no matter what.

J'darin turned toward the healer ignoring the looks and any thoughts
unspoken. He could be how he wanted with _his_ weyrlings. It was
her job to heal him, but it was his to train him, teach him, scold
him, protect him, care for him, and yes, it should have been his job
to keep him on the ground. So it was also his job to take the blame
for this accident. So it was really _himself_ he was mad at, not
G'wen, or even S'vin, who was at least, useful at the moment. And
J'darin knew G'wen would be more comfortable with S'vin's arms
supporting him than J'darin's.

But he would be alright. He _would_.

"Hasaarth is seeing to the green. Proceed as fast as you dare, Lady Healer. "

"Okay then." Quickly she squatted down next to the boy. She mixed a
mild dose of fellis--despite what the man had said she was wary of
knocking him out altogether. "Okay sweetheart, swallow this, it'll
help you feel better." Unexpectedly the boy fought a bit when she
tried to tip it into him. "Shardit!," she muttered under her breath,
as the liquid splashed on her arm and on the blue weyrlings shoulder.
Stubborn child! The men with their stretcher put it next to the boy.
With one holding his legs, one his torso and her trying to keep him
steady and not allow his back to twist and make the wound worse, they
managed to get him on the stretcher.

"Can you walk with me, Weyrlingmaster?"

J'darin rose to his feet, his eyebrows arched in both concern and
curiosity at the Healer. "Of course." He turned from the
heart-wrenching scene behind him as they carried G'wen toward the
infirmary on the stretcher. "He will be alright." It was not a
question.

"Does the child have family? They'll need to be told what happened."
She fixed him with a stern look, knowing they had to face the truth.
"And can you see that a queen is connected to that green? You and I
both know he has an infection from the cold of /between/ in that
score. I want a queen on that green, keeping her calm. We can knock
him out with fellis if the fever gets bad but I want the green in
control as soon as possible. " She nodded her head in emphisis.
"Come now, let's see to him, and make sure the other boy is okay."

J'darin took the stern look with barely a note. Her attitude seemed
to be he didn't know what to do with an injured weyrling, and it was
sadly, just the contrary. He sighed softly, sadly,. the blame
taking hold deeply. "Hasaarth has her in control at the moment,
Lady. My bronze is not as good as a queen of course, but he will do
just fine until a gold is free. We have already asked Onnyth' if she
would lend a hand, and she will. Unfortunately, a wounded weyrling,
even this seirously, is not something I am unfamiliar with. " A soft
look toward G'wen, and his shoulders visibly sagged. " I will leave
you and your capable staff, and the boys's friend, to see to him for
now. I must go speak to his father. He will want to be here." The
last words were issued heavily, and with a deep sadness underlying the
tone.

It was _not_ his first wounded weyrling, even a seriously wounded one,
as G'wen was. His heart ached for the boy. and his family. No, he
was surely not good enough to be a Weyrlingmaster. Not if he let
them get hurt like this....

He raised his chin then and pulled his strength, and Hasaarth's around
him. Time for blame and sadness later. In the meantime, G'wen
needed his family, and they needed to be told.
He left the Healer without another word, just a nod, and went to one
of his least favorite duties.

Last updated on the January 3rd 2012

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The First Blooding (2/3)