The Suckiest Haircut Ever, Parts 2 & 3
Scene: The saga devolves into mush.
Players: Ginella & Jensen & T'ral, Penny & Jensen, Penny & Ginella
Southern Bowl
The bowl floor is a broad expanse of gravel and dust, packed flat over decades of dragonweight landing on it. Kept free of vegetation, the only color variation across the vast hollow of the bowl are the dragons, in good weather often found sunning on low ledges or sprawled along the floor itself. The well-worn, charcoal-grey walls of the bowl are nearly vertical, far too steep for even the most adventurous climber to attempt. The rim of the bowl, marked by a rainbow of perching dragons at all times of the day, is topped with massive stone spires that stretch upwards into the blue vault of the sky. There are seven in all, great black fingers of stone that seem, from where you stand, to touch the clouds.
Here the lake dominates the bowl floor, wind-scattered waves lapping at the gravel shore. A few scrawny shrubs to the southeast mark the fenced-in enclosure of the feeding grounds, bordered on its southwestern edge by the lake itself. Following the wall here will lead to the entrance to the weyrling complex and, past that, the stairs that lead to the guest weyr. On the other side of the lake is a vast, yawning tunnel curving upwards slightly, connecting to the long road leading away from High Reaches Weyr. Adjoining the exit is the high arch of the infirmary entrance.
Ginella stumbles into the weyr probably closer to two hours after leaving Aivey and Penny, very nearly knocks herself out running into the tunnel, and finally finds an actual live person who is not trying to kidnap her. Cries immediately go up, someone is quickly sent for Jensen, and by the time he arrives, and gag and blindfold have been removed, and the rope around her wrists is getting hacked at with a knife. "Captain! Jensen!" she yells hoarsely, as soon as he's in sight, "Here, come here! It's Penny, they've got Penny, and it's too late, I've got a note, but I'm late, and they're going to kill her! They've already killed her, I'm too late, I'm so sorry!" Her face already red from tears (not to mention scratched, and with a nice welt rising on one cheek), she begins to sob, holding numb hands to her stomach. The note (and handful of hair!) have been taken by the helpful guy who cut her hands free, and now are passed to Jensen.
Jensen knows an emergency, he's been summoned to enough of them over the past few months to have a very good feel for them. He's shrugging his jacket on as he runs out after the man who went to find him, a few of his men in his wake. He'd been eating dinner, they'd been with him, and they certainly aren't going to hang about while their Captain might need them. Upon seeing Ginella and the state she's in, Jen's pace quickens until he's at her side, a very concerned tightness to his expression. His brow furrows as she hurries on in her explanation, and as those words sink in and register he isn't looking so good. His response is quick, his hand on the goldrider's arm tight enough to be uncomfortable. He's either trying to keep her steady or keep himself steady, it's hard to say. "/What/? Ginella, it's real important you tell me where she is now." Oh look, a note and... hair. He takes both with a shaking hand, at first staring down at the black strands in his grip with his mouth slightly open and dread very plain on his face. He swallows. This is Penny's hair. The note becomes the subject of interest next, his other hand in his own hair as he reads it. Or tries. A scattered brain doesn't do reading very well. His lips move along with him. "Oh no. No, no." His eyebrows lift and he bites down on his lower lip, casting a look around at the three men standing there waiting for orders. Suddenly his fist clenches around the scrap. "You three take Ginella here wherever she wants t'go. You keep her safe." He's in Captain mode now, but he's barely restrained. He grabs a handful of Vej's tunic and pulls him close. "You /keep her safe/." And then he's off, his fist around the note and hair.
Ginella is shaking, and shaking her head. "I don't /know/," she sobs, "In a forest? I ran into trees... It's too late, she said an hour, it's too late, she's dead. I didn't make it. She killed her, Jensen, I don't know why. Something about..." she trails off and shakes her head, sniffling and trying to pull herself together, the tight hold on her arm not even registering. "I don't know where to send you," she admits, breathing extra-slow, clearly making an effort to speak more coherently: "We were up in the clearing. They grabbed us. We walked for... a ways. It took me more than an hour to run back, but I ran into things and fell down a lot, and then he grabbed me again... I never saw where we were. I'm sorry, Jensen." The Captain is already gone, so the goldrider allows the guards to escort her to the Infirmary.
A bit later...
It's about two hours after twilight, quite a few hours since T'ral informed Ginella he had plans with the boys this evening. Aneleth has been edgy but quiet for a few hours, if Darageth has been paying attention, saying nothing but intimating that Ginella is hiding something from her. Suddenly, though, a burst of angry concern is passed from dragon to dragon, with a message for the brown's rider: << Yours must return home immediately! She needs him. She will explain when he arrives. >> No further information is forthcoming, Aneleth clearly distracted. By the time T'ral arrives, Ginella is exiting the Infirmary, flanked by Vej, and one of Jensen's other favorite guards. Just about every bit of visible skin is scratched, and there are bruises on her arms, a shiner on one cheek, and a swollen lump on her forehead. Her wrists have light bandages around them, she looks as if she's been crying for hours, there are a few speckles of blood on the neck of her shirt, and she's almost not shaking. Ginella looks up as T'ral nears, and her obvious relief puts her near to tears again. "Oh, thank goodness you're here," she gasps, collapsing into him as the guards look on. "Take me home, Tiv. I'll explain everything, as much as I can, just take me home, please."
In Tillek, T'ral abruptly rises from a game of cards, setting his hand -- a winning hand -- down on the table. That he leaves without collecting his winnings is the first signal for his friends that something is wrong. They watch as he strides out, then set about collecting them for him. Presumably directed by Darageth, he's striding towards the infirmary when she exits, and he catches himself mid-step, mouth opening in horror at the sight of her. He mobilises again suddenly, and the last few steps between them are covered a great deal faster, and his arms wrap around her as she collapses into him. "Shards, Ginny?" He's half frantic, taking no notice of the guards as he runs his hands over her, checking for some unseen damage. "Oh shards, what's happened to you? Damn, I..." He breaks off, pulling her in against him, then abruptly loosening his hold as concern for her injuries kicks in.
Ginella can't be -that- hurt, with how tightly she's holding onto him; giving him a taste of his own medicine with those too-tight hugs, maybe. She's started crying again, but coughs and shakes her head: "I'm okay, I'm okay, Tiv. I was -- We-- I think Penny's dead," she bubbles finally, pressing her face into his chest. I takes her another minute or two to get herself together again, and she leans back and takes a breath before turning to Vej: "You two can go help the Captain," she says, "I'll be okay at home with T'ral. Just... let me know if... you find her?" The guards look reluctant, but eye T'ral, and the two dragons (Aneleth prowling nearby) and decide that she's probably well taken care of. "Alright, miss," Vej replies, touching his forehead respectfully, "You look after her, sir." Then they head off, and Ginella's left to take another breath, and exhale sharply through her nose. "Let's go home, and I'll tell you what happened."
T'ral was already pale under his freckles, but at his he loses all colour. "You think she's..." He trails off, swallowing, lips pressing together as though he's suddenly sick. With a sniff, he pulls himself together, pulling away for long enough to look over to the guards, returning the salute with a nod. "Let us know," he echoes, already pulling her in against his side, and turning away towards the dragons as he speaks. "Come on, home. Are you sure? Do you need a bath? I've got stuff to eat up there. Do you need anything from the barracks?" The barrage of questions come anxiously.
Ginella doesn't repeat her worry, just looking at T'ral for a moment before sniffing again and ducking into his side. "I'm sure," she says, heading towards the waiting dragons. "No... no, no, I just want to go home, not... not anywhere with people. I don't want to have to explain 15 times, I just... Please, let's get home. Unless I smell really unbearably horrible, or something."
"Sssshhh, of course you don't smell..." T'ral doesn't bother to finish that reassurance, instead bundling her up onto Darageth -- even separating long enough to let her ride her own dragon is out of the question, it would seem. He's clearly bursting to begin his interrogation, but he does as she asks -- they're inside his weyr before he speaks again, steering her towards the couch to settle her there. "What's happened, Ginny? Who did this?" His big hands are gentle, urging her to sit so he can crouch before her, and examine her bruised face.
Ginella doesn't seem to mind, though Aneleth does, taking off with Darageth and shadowing the brown to his ledge, landing as soon is there is room and showing no signs of taking off immediately like she usually does. Ginella is easily bundled inside, and sinks down into the couch, leaning towards him as he examines. "Penny and I went for a walk," she begins, "It was longer than I thought, and it got dark, and then these two people jumped out and grabbed us. The had knives, and they said if I called Ane they'd kill us, and they dragged us all around and then cut off Penny's hair and gave it to me with a note and said if I didn't get it to Jensen in an hour, they'd kill her. But I was /blindfolded/," she says, sounding like she's defending her failure, sniffling again, "And I had no idea where we were, and I kept running into things and falling, and once I dropped the note..." She wipes at an eye and takes a breath: "And then I finally got the blindfold off and was near the weyr, and out of /nowhere/ he tackles me again and puts the blindfold back on /and/ a gag, and I ran into the wall of the tunnel and by the time I got the note to Jensen it was too late, an hour too late! And they've probably killed her, and it's all my fault!" She curls in on herself again, crying.
Outside, the brown leans in against Aneleth, quite uncharacteristically demonstrative -- his mental touch is gentle, but present. T'ral listens in silence, expression gradually growing more horrified. "Oh Ginny, Ginny..." His words are murmured, and as she curls up, he leans in to press gentle kisses everywhere he can -- her scratched hands, her bruised face. "Oh Ginny, stop. You did what you could, you did what anyone could have done. They won't, she'll be..." He stops fine of assuring her that Penny will be just fine -- after all, look at the state of Ginella. "I love you, you're okay, you're safe..." Penny is a face, and not one he knows well -- she has guards chasing after her, and his concern is with the woman in front of him. "Do you want tea, do you want something to eat?" T'ral, fussing. There's a first time for everything.
Ginella slides into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and clinging. "I could've gotten the blindfold off quicker, and not run into a stupid tree four times! And maybe if I'd called Ane they wouldn't have known... I don't know. I hope Jensen finds them first. She's got to be okay, why would they kill her? They would've done it sooner..." She's more or less talking to herself now, and it trails into mumbling and staring at the floor just behind his shoulder before she blinks. "Umm... umm.... tea? I'm really not hungry. I... should change," she decides, hauling herself slowly and not altogether-steadily to her feet to head for the dresser while he makes tea. "I'm borrowing your clothes," she mumblingly informs him.
"Leave it with Jensen," T'ral urges her, giving her a squeeze before he retreats. "Let's find out what the news is before we worry. Like you said, they would have done it sooner..." He too trails off, and he busies himself making tea -- sweetener is piled into the mug, one of his largest, and he crosses over to set it down on the table beside the couch. This is so he can follow her, hands lifting as though he would help her from her clothes, then lacing together behind his neck. "Oh Sunshine, look at you..." Shifting his weight from foot to foot, the brownrider ends up simply hovering.
Ginella dresses slowly in some loose cotton pants of her own and one of his clean undershirts, turning back to touch self-conciously at the bruises. "It's not anything serious, Tiv," she assures him, sliding arms slowly around his waist, "Not even going to be any scars or anything, promise." She twists a little smile up at him, and suddenly laughs softly, shaking her head. "It's stupid; I was so scared they were going to cut my hair, because I knew it would look awful and you'd hate it. Can you believe that? Holding a knife to my back, and I'm afraid of a haircut." She shakes her head, freeing that hair, and leans her forehead against his chest.
"If I ever get within a dragonlength of the man who laid a hand on you..." T'ral doesn't bother with bluster, or raising his voice. The words trail off as he looks down at her, returning her smile with one of his own that's slightly sick. "No scars," he agrees, fingers trailing gently down one of her arms. "I wouldn't care if you were bald, Sunshine. I want you safe, and that's it." His arms go around her, his face buried in the hair she fretted over. He stays there for nearly a minute before he gathers her up to return to the couch -- there he settles, stretched out along the length of it, keeping her firmly in his lap, and reaches behind him for the tea.
Mountain Clearing
About an hour's moderate hike down a gentle slope from High Reaches Weyr, this large mountain clearing is shadowed by the peaks and spires that rise impressively in the distance. Roughly circular in shape, it has been used over the turns as a place for weary tithe and merchant trains to pause for a night's rest before continuing upwards. At some point in the distant past, a Reaches Weyrwoman had a small racetrack built here as well. It circles the outside of the clearing, bare earth packed down under a layer of softer soil.
The rest of the clearing is given over to soft grass broken with rocky patches. Tiny white and blue flowers are scattered through the meadow, thickest near the center. The outer edge of the clearing is ringed in small redfruit trees. They aren't large enough to provide a significant harvest of fruit and the thin mountain air has stunted the trees somewhat, but if the season is right they do provide for a hungry traveller.
It's been several hours of wandering through the fields and forest around the Weyr since Ginella came with note and hair and Jensen took off for the search. It's so far come up very fruitless, and Jen is becoming, let's say it, distraught. He's currently pushing aside branches and things, the little glowbasket he snagged on his way out shedding only enough light to keep him from running into those trees inches in front of his face. He almost misses a few times too, banging a shoulder or his hand. He hasn't lost it yet, that urge to find /something/, even if it's just a body.
And Penny, let's face it, is hopelessly lost. Blindfolded, she doesn't even have the light from the moons filtered through the trees, much less a glow -- her adventures have left her face and arms quite scratched, and one interesting gash on her forehead where she stupidly collided with a tree after she'd already bumped into it once, and gotten turned around. She stumbles again, as she has numerous times -- exhausted, shaking, and not quite able to keep walking, she stops and leans against a tree. She's not crying, but it's obvious she's given up, for the moment. She's not brave or miraculously strong; she's tired and dirty and hurting and right now, it's obvious from the way she sags against the tree that all she wants to do is find some nice patch of ground to swallow her up.
Jensen is, as anyone who knows him knows, not the giving up sort of person. He'll keep looking, he'll look all night, all day, all night again, until he finds /something/. A scrap of cloth, a shoe, drops of blood. Anything of hers he can see or touch. If she's dead he wants to know, and if she isn't, if it's all a lie... She ain't gettin' left. However, after nearly another hour of wandering with really no direction he stops, amidst more trees, and lowers his basket to his side. His breaths are heaving ones, there's sweat on his brow, oddly enough considering the temperature. With little notion of what else to do, he simply takes a deep breath and calls out, in a very loud voice indeed, "Penny!" He doesn't care if it's stupid, he doesn't care if it might draw attention to killers potentially still about. He just wants his girl back.
It's a faint sound that intrudes upon Penny's little wallow of misery and guilty and pain that she's allowed herself to slip into. A very small sound indeed, on the edge of hearing, but it causes her whole frame to jerk upright. A human voice. Help. Assistance. She tries to give some sort of cry in response, but it comes out a little too hoarse to carry as far as Jensen's bellow. Nor does she seem to have recognized the voice, as faint as it is, merely begins stumbling in its direction now that she has a place to aim for. She makes a lot of noise, crashing through the underbrush as she runs into things and trips and generally lacks her typical grace; she's certainly a sight right now, not all that recognizable.
There's a pause, between Jensen's shouting and Penny's crashing about, that /hangs/. When he hears a respone, branches and things suddenly snapping and leaves rustling, he starts moving again, taking off in the direction they're coming from. He isn't even bothering to use his glowbasket anymore, not now that he has sound to follow; he stops occasionally to listen, changing course if he needs to. Penny is, afterall, blindfolded, and she isn't going to be taking the straightest of paths. He winces when he crashes his side into a tree, pushes himself away impatiently and keeps going. So close, so close, so close. And then, very suddenly, he collides with something that /isn't/ a tree. It yields. Trees don't yield, he isn't /that/ strong. His hand shoots out, grabs an arm, and he brings his glowbasket up to inspect what he's caught. He isn't expecting to see a very much blindfolded and scraped up Penny, with her hair looking... different. It takes a moment, maybe two heartbeats, for him to realize it's a very much /alive/ Penny, and then he makes a small noise in his throat, drops his basket and wraps both arms around her.
Penny's making enough noise that she doesn't hear Jensen's progress. Her own is very slow, a stumble backwards for every two steps forward she gets; ironic, then, that she should actually have managed to pick up her pace a little bit when Jensen collides with her. She gives a low grunt of pain as she reels backwards, one that intensifies into a pained cry as he grabs her arm, causing the bonds around her wrists to tug on the raw skin and dislocated join, and manages, "Please, I need--" before there's arms around her and her face is pressed into his shoulder and she's incapable of speech. At first, her face beneath its blindfold registers only blankness, the sudden encounter meaning little to her confused brain; her lips remain slack, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, gentle confusion. But she knows those arms, the strength in them, that heartbeat, this scent. Shock is settling in now, and she just stands there, shaking, bewildered.
"I don't know what I did wrong, I don't know what I did..." Jensen is crushing Penny to him, not at all aware just now of all the reasons why he /shouldn't/ be. His hands roam over her, over her arms, down to her hands. He's looking for things, and he indeed finds something. Bound wrists, bit of something stuck between whatever's got them tied. His jaw clenches and he pulls away. He remembers what he saw when he ran into her, so light isn't required as his hands move again to the blindfold over her eyes. He lifts it up, pushes it back over her hair and pulls it free so he can drop it to the ground. Drop it, not throw it. It's evidence. "Penny, baby, kneel down with me. Can you kneel down? Oh, jays, baby, I'm so sorry." Doesn't take a genius to know why this is happening. "C'mon, darlin'." His voice is tense and deep, gruff. He's so close to just breaking. He takes her by the arm again, gently though this time, and begins lowering himself to his knees on the ground.
Her hair is so short now that bits of it fall into her face when the binding blindfold is removed; if her hair was ever frizzy before, it's absolutely insane now with the lack of weight keeping it in check, curling every which way and obscuring her vision. It doesn't matter though, her eyes somewhat glassily locked on his face, looking -through- the curtain of roughly-hacked curls, an almost dreamy gaze. She's obedient almost instantly, her knees buckling and her face rippling -- those wrists hurt when he takes her by the arm -- and she more stumbles onto her knees than lowers herself. "I'm... tied up," she tells him, the first words spoken, and they're in an odd voice. Yes, that's shock. She's not processing, she's merely reacting, some part of her brain remaining moderately functional while the rest of it runs around screaming about Faranth-knows-what.
Jensen takes charge. He's always been good at taking charge, that's one of the reasons he is what he is. Even when all he wants to do is break down and scoop her up and keep her in a small bottle of some kind to keep this from ever happening again, he's almost businesslike. "That's my girl, I know you are." Now that they're on the ground and, most important, closer to the dropped glowbasket, he can inspect her a bit better. He pulls his knife free, the shiny sound of metal very brief, and leans in close to her. "'M gonna fix that for you, sweetheart. Then we're gonna get you warm, get you home." Far, far off in the distance, shouts can be heard. Many shouts. He winces, slips the edge of the blade in carefully, and slices one of the cords. The note comes free and he grabs it, crumples it in his fist, and continues cutting away. He's angry. He's scared and he's angry, and he can't do anything about it.
Penny flinches at the sound of the knife being unsheathed, flinches back from him. But she's either grasping what he's doing or too dumbfounded to care, because that's all the reaction she gives. Her breath does catch in her throat and she winces, badly, as one of the cords falls free. "Ow--ow, ow," She sounds like a little girl, really, complaining about a skinned knee. "Jen, -ow-. Stop." Why is he hurting her? But she's watching him, now, her expression changing. "Jen, you're-- not dead. I knew you weren't dead." She actually sounds a little smug about this, in the middle of everything.
"I know it hurts, I know. 'M sorry, just one more, darlin'," Jensen murmurs, both arms around her and his chin lifted so he can work at those cords. Finally the last is cut and slithers to the ground with the rest of the fragments and he sheathes his knife again. Then, without hesitation, he stuffs the note he found in Penny's bindings into his jacket pocket along with her blindfold, removes the article and has it settled on her shoulders in seconds. Those voices are growing louder and starting to form coherent words. "Over there!" "I see light!" Jen ignores them, his eyebrows drawn down and his eyes narrowed as he looks over her face. "You're all cut up, baby, we should stop by the-" Dead? He blinks. "'Course 'm not dead. You were the one s'posed t'be dead." Pause. Oh. Dear. His head tilts and his expression sort of pinches up. 'Oh no. No, no.' "Jays, Penny. Thought I'd lost you." And there it is, the punch in the gut. His hand cradles her cheek very carefully. His voice has dropped to a rough whisper. "I'm so sorry, baby."
The jacket is probably a good idea -- Penny's shivering by now, part from chill and exhaustion and part simply from reaction. It's been a long night. The sky is already growing lighter, dawn not long off. Penny gives a little whimper as the last cords are cut, and her arms go limp. Twelve hours with your hands tied painfully is a long time, and the pain in her shoulders probably rivals that of her wrists. "You-- think I'm cut up. You should see your face." Her look is still strange as her eyes roam that face, dreamily. Lost her? "No, I'm right here." Her arm moves oddly after its long constriction, even the one that's not hanging all funny. She rests her hand, icky with blood and all, against his chest and looks at it, brow furrowed. Then she looks up at him, face tilting toward him with that vaguely distressed look still imprinted on her expression. "Jen..." A moment there where something snaps, changes. "Jen, she cut off my -hair-!" Kiss shock goodbye. Penny stares at him, anguished, and then starts crying; her hand tightens around a handful of Jen's shirt as she leans forward, head bowed.
Jensen didn't notice the rather /off/ way in which her arm is set. If it's one thing he can easily recognize, it's a familiar injury. His jaw clenches. /Anger/. They maimed his Penny. Her words don't so much distract him as they do just get his attention. His face? He isn't concerned about his face. When that bloodied hand comes into the light he winces. It's gross, yeah, but that isn't the reason for that particular reaction. /Her/ blood. His own hand comes up to curl gently around it. He has nothing to say, and it's debatable if he even trusts his own voice, so he just looks at her. Oh yeah, he notices when her expression changes. "Yeah, darlin'?" Hair? Oh, hair. Now would be a bad time to mention how he still has what was cut from her in his pocket, so he instead slips an arm around her and holds her close. Which might hurt her. Yeesh. He doesn't shush her, doesn't try to tell her it's okay. He simply lets her cry. For a good long while, and those voices have come even closer. Vej comes crashing in through the trees, holding his knife and another glowbasket. "Cap'n!" If entering in on such a scene is weird, Vej doesn't show it. Jen turns some. "Vej. Want the men scourin' this forest. Look for anything might link us t'who did this. You find anyone, you take 'em." And leave them for him. But he doesn't add that. "Penny, baby, think your shoulder might need settin' so I'm gonna carry you back t'the Weyr."
Being kidnapped, tied up, told her lover was dead, turned loose blindfolded in unfamiliar territory -- these are things that are too much for Penny's brain to deal with right now. But the loss of her hair is something real, something concrete, and man, does she ever cry about it. "M-my hair was so -pretty-!" she wails, clinging to him with her good hand, shaking in his arms. Vej's rather abrupt entry serves to snap her out of this flood, at least somewhat -- hiccuping, coughing, she lifts her head from Jensen's shoulder and stares at the other guard. Her eyes flick back to Jensen's face as her hand turns and twines with his. "It's my wrist, not my shoulder," she tells him, almost scathingly, as if he should've somehow known. "Blasted if I go back being carried like a child," she adds, fiercely. Oh, right, like she could -possibly- walk. But it's not as if she's thinking rationally right now -- like someone after they've fallen down a flight of stairs, she's picking herself up, embarrassed, pretending like nothing happened, walking it off. Give her a few moments and she'll realize how much she -hurts-.
"Yessir." Vej turns around, sheathes his knife, pokes his fingers into his mouth and whistles to rally all the other men wandering through the trees to his location. "And where's Ashwin?" Jen wonders absently, eyes narrowed as he scans their surroundings. Little does he know. Penny is taking up most of his concerns right now though, so he isn't left to wonder very long. "Wrist?" He drops his attention downward. "Huh. Where your arms are hangin' funny then, and that ain't good either." Her next remark earns her a very faint, very half-assed version of the usual smirk. "There's my sassy girl. Consider yourself blasted." And, without warning, he puts his arms where they need to be and lifts until he's standing with her all nice and bundled up. And if he ignores any wincing or cursing or crying in doing so, it's only because this has to be done. "Vej." Vej is giving out orders to the rest of the men. He turns. "Cap'n?" "Keep everything tight." "Yessir." He seems to know what that means. "And, uh," "Cap'n?" "If you could just put the glowbasket on 'er belly there..." "Oh, uh, yessir." Because they're going ot need /some/ light, and she can even hold it up for him if she wants. And so they begin the trek back to the Weyr.
"Thank you, Vej," Penny tells the guard quite seriously, perhaps a little ridiculously, as Jensen scoops her up. "Ow-- oh, shells, Jen--" She winces, shifting herself in his arms, freeing the wrist that's been damaged in whatever way and cradling it against her body. A little more comfortable, she glares at Jensen and mutters, "I -can- walk." But she doesn't try to make him put her down-- just the opposite, she lays her head against his shoulder, the wetness of tears still on her face soaking into his shirt. "I knew you'd come," she says, softly, mumbling into his chest. "I knew. Oh, Jen." She presses her face into his chest, hiding. "I'm so sorry." She's babbling now. "I was so stupid and arrogant. I knew I should be careful, I knew someone was after you who knew about us. And I was so stupid, walking out at night like that, and I put Ginny in--" She freezes, horror suddenly transforming her face. "Jen! Ginella! Oh, Faranth, please, we have to go back-- she just blindfolded Ginny and made her walk, no telling where she is-- scared and--" She's tugging at his shirt, struggling. "Put me down, we have to go back and find her!" Never mind how Jen would've known to look for Penny if Ginella hadn't found him -- Penny's not thinking about that right now.
Vej just gives Penny a little, awkward smile and shifts from one foot to the other. Aheh. They should really stop meeting like this. As for her ability to walk? Jensen just nods in a 'yeah, yeah, yeah' sort of fashion and cradles her close when she tucks herself in. She's easy to carry. He's still running off mostly adrenaline anyway. His steps are very, very careful now that he doesn't have to worry about just himself. He has her head to be wary of whenever there's a tree too close, or just jarring in general, so it's hardly the headlong dash of before. He steps around a tree, under a branch, and answers her in a voice that's both gentle and oddly forceful. "Always gonna come." /Always/ gonna come for her. And that she knew is something he's going to cherish. He looks down at her while she goes on, shoots her little sporadic glances and hitches her in his arms a time or two. Wouldn't do to let her slide away. And when she starts in on Ginella he stops so as not to drop her and tries to silence her with little 'ssh' noises. "Hey, hey. Ginny's fine, darlin'. She got t'the bowl, she's bein' taken care of now most likely. Had Vej make sure of it. As for the rest o'that, you're right. Was stupid o'you. Was stupider o'me, not havin' someone on you. Gonna be different from now on though." There go Penny's plans for escaping a detail like Roa's. "But don't think this is your fault. Ain't. It's mine." He starts walking again, eyes straight ahead. "Wouldn't be in this situation weren't for me. /I/ should've known. Jays, if you'd been..." No. That's too hard to think about just now, when he's trying so hard to just get her home.
"She's ok?" the smith echoes, stupidly, blinking at him, ceasing her stuggles. "She -got- there? But-- she was blindfolded--" Penny certainly didn't fare all that well when she was in Ginella's place, wandering around the landscape with no eyes and her hands tied behind her. She swallows, clings to him a little more tightly. "Gin--" But that's all she says, whatever compliments or concerns Penny might've voiced dying. What can she really say, after all? If Ginella hadn't gotten there, Jen wouldn't have known to look, and Penny would still be out in the dark. Her hand tightens around its handful of shirt. "Shhh. I wasn't. I'm fine." Since when was Penny the one doing the comforting? She nestles her cheek in against him. "If it isn't my fault, it's not yours either. You weren't the one who did this." Silence for a moment. "She-- said things. Threatened..." But she can't tell Jensen who Aivey threatened. Sefton can't come into it. "Called me..." But she can't even repeat the endearments now, the ones Aivey twisted around. Another brief silence, and then the words: "She said that she cut your throat. I'm going to kill her." It's said quite matter-of-factly, and calmly. A simple statement, said like someone might say 'Looks like rain today.'
Jen's voice is a little bouncy as he navigates through a spot full of big tree roots poking out of the ground. "She'll be okay, anyway. Don't think she'll be /okay/ okay for a while yet." No, wandering around alone in the dark, just trying to find your way back home, blindfolded and unable to use your hands? Probably not something one recovers from all that quickly. "Doubt you're gonna be okay for a while yet either. Damnit. I really fucked everything up this time." Oh, he's angry. Angry at himself, angry at not being able to /do/ anything. Her comforting isn't lost on him, but he can't really respond to it like he might want. Which is a pity. "You ain't fine. You're cut up and you got your own blood all over you," as if if it was someone /else's/ blood it would be /fine/, "and someone took you from me. /Shit/." Angry. The initial oh god Penny's alive and right here pleasantness is fading. "Ain't the one who did this, but I sure let it happen. /Fuck/ me. Hush, darlin'." And that sounded harsh, and he knows it, so his next words are softer. Threatened... Ugh. "'M sorry you had t'do this. Nobody should have t'do this." But that last has him smirking again. "That's my girl." His Penny. He isn't even about to argue with her over that. He can't deny her that. The Weyr is finally coming into view, and within moments they're at the tunnel entrance. He continues on in and through.
If Penny's offended by the harsh language... well, she's not. How could she be, when she was yelling identical curses hours before? But her expression does flicker, away from that calm, cold hatred of the anonymous perpetrator and into a softer one as she tilts her head back, looking up at him. She lifts a hands, presses her fingertips to his lips. "Shh. No. Jensen, you came for me. You found me. You did everything you could, and it was more than enough." She keeps her fingers against his mouth. "There's no one in the world safer than me when I'm with you. Tell me you know that." For some reason this seems very important to her. The entrance to the tunnel causes her to lift her head. "Jen. Please let me walk?" Because they'll be encountering people soon. And Penny doesn't want to be carried. Her pride picked an awfully strange time to rear its head.
Jensen pauses inside the tunnel. It's empty, nobody wants to come and go when it's getting so late. And it is, a little past midnight now. He looks down at her, he hears her, but he doesn't respond. Instead he just watches her face, his eyes dark, and does as she asks. Very slowly and very carefully he resituates her so that when he puts her down she's on her feet. That doesn't keep him from keeping a hand on her shoulder though, to keep her steady. He reaches, takes the glowbasket from her, and pauses. The ground seems so interesting. "Can't keep you with me all the time," he tells her, his voice thick. "Everybody I care about's gonna get hurt 'cause o'me. Already has been." He tries to look her in the eye again, fails. "Things are gonna get much, much worse."
Penny winces a little as she's put down, sore feet and wrist protesting, but when she looks up at Jensen, she's smiling. "Thank you," she says simply. She listens, and is quiet for a while after he speaks. "Jen, we'll find her." She pauses, her smile turning lopsided. "You'll find her," she corrects herself, sheepishly. "How can it get worse than this? Thinking you were--" She swallows, starting to shiver ever so slightly again. And they're inside, so it can't be from cold. "Jen, my Jen, it's not -you-. It's her. Please, sweetheart, believe me. She's sick, I've seen it, heard it. You are -not- the reason this is happening." She reaches up with the uninjured -- or less injured -- hand to touch his cheek. Never mind the clotted and dried blood on it. "Look at me?" Because then he can see the faith in her eyes.
Jensen wasn't going to, nope. He can't stand to see her looking like that because, yes, of him. There's going to be nothing for convincing him otherwise. He doesn't so much listen as he does endure her words, since they're rather hard to swallow. It /is/ his fault, it /is/, why can't she /see/? But then there's a hand on his cheek, and he knows that gentle insistence. He obeys her, as he almost always does, and manages to meet her eyes without much hesitation. His jaw immediately clenches up. Look at all the cuts on her face. And those bloody wrists. And her hair. But that faith, that very faith, as if he can make anything happen... For an instant it looks like he's been made stronger by it, his chin lifting and everything, but then he sort of crumples from the inside, all at once, his hand covering hers. "We need t'get you inside," is all he ends up saying, his expression guarded.
Her thumb just strokes his cheek for a few moments, under his larger hand. Then, quietly, Penny says, "I remember you once telling me that you just wanted to show me what you saw when you looked at me." She doesn't kiss him, though it looks like she wants to, her face all tilted towards him and that look in her eye; after a moment, she even drops her hand, turning to continue the journey into the Weyr. "I wish I could return the favor." Those last words are so quiet he'd have to strain to hear them, and even then, they're easily dismissed when she sighs and moves forward, hanging onto Jensen as much for support of him as for herself.
If Jen wasn't so stubbornly pent-up, that might just have done the trick in making him truly break. As it is he's trying desperately to build back up those walls that have been torn down by this fiasco, brick by brick, step by step. He keeps their pace slow, so she doesn't tire out before they come to the end of the tunnel, and doesn't take his arm from around her waist, even when they've emerged into the Weyr proper. Just before stepping out he whispers, in a voice just as soft as hers had been, an "I love you", and then time to put up the act again. He's just helping this wounded girl to the infirmary, nothing to see here, no inner connections to try to figure out. And nobody else can hear those words echoing in his head.
Players: Ginella & Jensen & T'ral, Penny & Jensen, Penny & Ginella
Southern Bowl
The bowl floor is a broad expanse of gravel and dust, packed flat over decades of dragonweight landing on it. Kept free of vegetation, the only color variation across the vast hollow of the bowl are the dragons, in good weather often found sunning on low ledges or sprawled along the floor itself. The well-worn, charcoal-grey walls of the bowl are nearly vertical, far too steep for even the most adventurous climber to attempt. The rim of the bowl, marked by a rainbow of perching dragons at all times of the day, is topped with massive stone spires that stretch upwards into the blue vault of the sky. There are seven in all, great black fingers of stone that seem, from where you stand, to touch the clouds.
Here the lake dominates the bowl floor, wind-scattered waves lapping at the gravel shore. A few scrawny shrubs to the southeast mark the fenced-in enclosure of the feeding grounds, bordered on its southwestern edge by the lake itself. Following the wall here will lead to the entrance to the weyrling complex and, past that, the stairs that lead to the guest weyr. On the other side of the lake is a vast, yawning tunnel curving upwards slightly, connecting to the long road leading away from High Reaches Weyr. Adjoining the exit is the high arch of the infirmary entrance.
Ginella stumbles into the weyr probably closer to two hours after leaving Aivey and Penny, very nearly knocks herself out running into the tunnel, and finally finds an actual live person who is not trying to kidnap her. Cries immediately go up, someone is quickly sent for Jensen, and by the time he arrives, and gag and blindfold have been removed, and the rope around her wrists is getting hacked at with a knife. "Captain! Jensen!" she yells hoarsely, as soon as he's in sight, "Here, come here! It's Penny, they've got Penny, and it's too late, I've got a note, but I'm late, and they're going to kill her! They've already killed her, I'm too late, I'm so sorry!" Her face already red from tears (not to mention scratched, and with a nice welt rising on one cheek), she begins to sob, holding numb hands to her stomach. The note (and handful of hair!) have been taken by the helpful guy who cut her hands free, and now are passed to Jensen.
Jensen knows an emergency, he's been summoned to enough of them over the past few months to have a very good feel for them. He's shrugging his jacket on as he runs out after the man who went to find him, a few of his men in his wake. He'd been eating dinner, they'd been with him, and they certainly aren't going to hang about while their Captain might need them. Upon seeing Ginella and the state she's in, Jen's pace quickens until he's at her side, a very concerned tightness to his expression. His brow furrows as she hurries on in her explanation, and as those words sink in and register he isn't looking so good. His response is quick, his hand on the goldrider's arm tight enough to be uncomfortable. He's either trying to keep her steady or keep himself steady, it's hard to say. "/What/? Ginella, it's real important you tell me where she is now." Oh look, a note and... hair. He takes both with a shaking hand, at first staring down at the black strands in his grip with his mouth slightly open and dread very plain on his face. He swallows. This is Penny's hair. The note becomes the subject of interest next, his other hand in his own hair as he reads it. Or tries. A scattered brain doesn't do reading very well. His lips move along with him. "Oh no. No, no." His eyebrows lift and he bites down on his lower lip, casting a look around at the three men standing there waiting for orders. Suddenly his fist clenches around the scrap. "You three take Ginella here wherever she wants t'go. You keep her safe." He's in Captain mode now, but he's barely restrained. He grabs a handful of Vej's tunic and pulls him close. "You /keep her safe/." And then he's off, his fist around the note and hair.
Ginella is shaking, and shaking her head. "I don't /know/," she sobs, "In a forest? I ran into trees... It's too late, she said an hour, it's too late, she's dead. I didn't make it. She killed her, Jensen, I don't know why. Something about..." she trails off and shakes her head, sniffling and trying to pull herself together, the tight hold on her arm not even registering. "I don't know where to send you," she admits, breathing extra-slow, clearly making an effort to speak more coherently: "We were up in the clearing. They grabbed us. We walked for... a ways. It took me more than an hour to run back, but I ran into things and fell down a lot, and then he grabbed me again... I never saw where we were. I'm sorry, Jensen." The Captain is already gone, so the goldrider allows the guards to escort her to the Infirmary.
A bit later...
It's about two hours after twilight, quite a few hours since T'ral informed Ginella he had plans with the boys this evening. Aneleth has been edgy but quiet for a few hours, if Darageth has been paying attention, saying nothing but intimating that Ginella is hiding something from her. Suddenly, though, a burst of angry concern is passed from dragon to dragon, with a message for the brown's rider: << Yours must return home immediately! She needs him. She will explain when he arrives. >> No further information is forthcoming, Aneleth clearly distracted. By the time T'ral arrives, Ginella is exiting the Infirmary, flanked by Vej, and one of Jensen's other favorite guards. Just about every bit of visible skin is scratched, and there are bruises on her arms, a shiner on one cheek, and a swollen lump on her forehead. Her wrists have light bandages around them, she looks as if she's been crying for hours, there are a few speckles of blood on the neck of her shirt, and she's almost not shaking. Ginella looks up as T'ral nears, and her obvious relief puts her near to tears again. "Oh, thank goodness you're here," she gasps, collapsing into him as the guards look on. "Take me home, Tiv. I'll explain everything, as much as I can, just take me home, please."
In Tillek, T'ral abruptly rises from a game of cards, setting his hand -- a winning hand -- down on the table. That he leaves without collecting his winnings is the first signal for his friends that something is wrong. They watch as he strides out, then set about collecting them for him. Presumably directed by Darageth, he's striding towards the infirmary when she exits, and he catches himself mid-step, mouth opening in horror at the sight of her. He mobilises again suddenly, and the last few steps between them are covered a great deal faster, and his arms wrap around her as she collapses into him. "Shards, Ginny?" He's half frantic, taking no notice of the guards as he runs his hands over her, checking for some unseen damage. "Oh shards, what's happened to you? Damn, I..." He breaks off, pulling her in against him, then abruptly loosening his hold as concern for her injuries kicks in.
Ginella can't be -that- hurt, with how tightly she's holding onto him; giving him a taste of his own medicine with those too-tight hugs, maybe. She's started crying again, but coughs and shakes her head: "I'm okay, I'm okay, Tiv. I was -- We-- I think Penny's dead," she bubbles finally, pressing her face into his chest. I takes her another minute or two to get herself together again, and she leans back and takes a breath before turning to Vej: "You two can go help the Captain," she says, "I'll be okay at home with T'ral. Just... let me know if... you find her?" The guards look reluctant, but eye T'ral, and the two dragons (Aneleth prowling nearby) and decide that she's probably well taken care of. "Alright, miss," Vej replies, touching his forehead respectfully, "You look after her, sir." Then they head off, and Ginella's left to take another breath, and exhale sharply through her nose. "Let's go home, and I'll tell you what happened."
T'ral was already pale under his freckles, but at his he loses all colour. "You think she's..." He trails off, swallowing, lips pressing together as though he's suddenly sick. With a sniff, he pulls himself together, pulling away for long enough to look over to the guards, returning the salute with a nod. "Let us know," he echoes, already pulling her in against his side, and turning away towards the dragons as he speaks. "Come on, home. Are you sure? Do you need a bath? I've got stuff to eat up there. Do you need anything from the barracks?" The barrage of questions come anxiously.
Ginella doesn't repeat her worry, just looking at T'ral for a moment before sniffing again and ducking into his side. "I'm sure," she says, heading towards the waiting dragons. "No... no, no, I just want to go home, not... not anywhere with people. I don't want to have to explain 15 times, I just... Please, let's get home. Unless I smell really unbearably horrible, or something."
"Sssshhh, of course you don't smell..." T'ral doesn't bother to finish that reassurance, instead bundling her up onto Darageth -- even separating long enough to let her ride her own dragon is out of the question, it would seem. He's clearly bursting to begin his interrogation, but he does as she asks -- they're inside his weyr before he speaks again, steering her towards the couch to settle her there. "What's happened, Ginny? Who did this?" His big hands are gentle, urging her to sit so he can crouch before her, and examine her bruised face.
Ginella doesn't seem to mind, though Aneleth does, taking off with Darageth and shadowing the brown to his ledge, landing as soon is there is room and showing no signs of taking off immediately like she usually does. Ginella is easily bundled inside, and sinks down into the couch, leaning towards him as he examines. "Penny and I went for a walk," she begins, "It was longer than I thought, and it got dark, and then these two people jumped out and grabbed us. The had knives, and they said if I called Ane they'd kill us, and they dragged us all around and then cut off Penny's hair and gave it to me with a note and said if I didn't get it to Jensen in an hour, they'd kill her. But I was /blindfolded/," she says, sounding like she's defending her failure, sniffling again, "And I had no idea where we were, and I kept running into things and falling, and once I dropped the note..." She wipes at an eye and takes a breath: "And then I finally got the blindfold off and was near the weyr, and out of /nowhere/ he tackles me again and puts the blindfold back on /and/ a gag, and I ran into the wall of the tunnel and by the time I got the note to Jensen it was too late, an hour too late! And they've probably killed her, and it's all my fault!" She curls in on herself again, crying.
Outside, the brown leans in against Aneleth, quite uncharacteristically demonstrative -- his mental touch is gentle, but present. T'ral listens in silence, expression gradually growing more horrified. "Oh Ginny, Ginny..." His words are murmured, and as she curls up, he leans in to press gentle kisses everywhere he can -- her scratched hands, her bruised face. "Oh Ginny, stop. You did what you could, you did what anyone could have done. They won't, she'll be..." He stops fine of assuring her that Penny will be just fine -- after all, look at the state of Ginella. "I love you, you're okay, you're safe..." Penny is a face, and not one he knows well -- she has guards chasing after her, and his concern is with the woman in front of him. "Do you want tea, do you want something to eat?" T'ral, fussing. There's a first time for everything.
Ginella slides into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and clinging. "I could've gotten the blindfold off quicker, and not run into a stupid tree four times! And maybe if I'd called Ane they wouldn't have known... I don't know. I hope Jensen finds them first. She's got to be okay, why would they kill her? They would've done it sooner..." She's more or less talking to herself now, and it trails into mumbling and staring at the floor just behind his shoulder before she blinks. "Umm... umm.... tea? I'm really not hungry. I... should change," she decides, hauling herself slowly and not altogether-steadily to her feet to head for the dresser while he makes tea. "I'm borrowing your clothes," she mumblingly informs him.
"Leave it with Jensen," T'ral urges her, giving her a squeeze before he retreats. "Let's find out what the news is before we worry. Like you said, they would have done it sooner..." He too trails off, and he busies himself making tea -- sweetener is piled into the mug, one of his largest, and he crosses over to set it down on the table beside the couch. This is so he can follow her, hands lifting as though he would help her from her clothes, then lacing together behind his neck. "Oh Sunshine, look at you..." Shifting his weight from foot to foot, the brownrider ends up simply hovering.
Ginella dresses slowly in some loose cotton pants of her own and one of his clean undershirts, turning back to touch self-conciously at the bruises. "It's not anything serious, Tiv," she assures him, sliding arms slowly around his waist, "Not even going to be any scars or anything, promise." She twists a little smile up at him, and suddenly laughs softly, shaking her head. "It's stupid; I was so scared they were going to cut my hair, because I knew it would look awful and you'd hate it. Can you believe that? Holding a knife to my back, and I'm afraid of a haircut." She shakes her head, freeing that hair, and leans her forehead against his chest.
"If I ever get within a dragonlength of the man who laid a hand on you..." T'ral doesn't bother with bluster, or raising his voice. The words trail off as he looks down at her, returning her smile with one of his own that's slightly sick. "No scars," he agrees, fingers trailing gently down one of her arms. "I wouldn't care if you were bald, Sunshine. I want you safe, and that's it." His arms go around her, his face buried in the hair she fretted over. He stays there for nearly a minute before he gathers her up to return to the couch -- there he settles, stretched out along the length of it, keeping her firmly in his lap, and reaches behind him for the tea.
Mountain Clearing
About an hour's moderate hike down a gentle slope from High Reaches Weyr, this large mountain clearing is shadowed by the peaks and spires that rise impressively in the distance. Roughly circular in shape, it has been used over the turns as a place for weary tithe and merchant trains to pause for a night's rest before continuing upwards. At some point in the distant past, a Reaches Weyrwoman had a small racetrack built here as well. It circles the outside of the clearing, bare earth packed down under a layer of softer soil.
The rest of the clearing is given over to soft grass broken with rocky patches. Tiny white and blue flowers are scattered through the meadow, thickest near the center. The outer edge of the clearing is ringed in small redfruit trees. They aren't large enough to provide a significant harvest of fruit and the thin mountain air has stunted the trees somewhat, but if the season is right they do provide for a hungry traveller.
It's been several hours of wandering through the fields and forest around the Weyr since Ginella came with note and hair and Jensen took off for the search. It's so far come up very fruitless, and Jen is becoming, let's say it, distraught. He's currently pushing aside branches and things, the little glowbasket he snagged on his way out shedding only enough light to keep him from running into those trees inches in front of his face. He almost misses a few times too, banging a shoulder or his hand. He hasn't lost it yet, that urge to find /something/, even if it's just a body.
And Penny, let's face it, is hopelessly lost. Blindfolded, she doesn't even have the light from the moons filtered through the trees, much less a glow -- her adventures have left her face and arms quite scratched, and one interesting gash on her forehead where she stupidly collided with a tree after she'd already bumped into it once, and gotten turned around. She stumbles again, as she has numerous times -- exhausted, shaking, and not quite able to keep walking, she stops and leans against a tree. She's not crying, but it's obvious she's given up, for the moment. She's not brave or miraculously strong; she's tired and dirty and hurting and right now, it's obvious from the way she sags against the tree that all she wants to do is find some nice patch of ground to swallow her up.
Jensen is, as anyone who knows him knows, not the giving up sort of person. He'll keep looking, he'll look all night, all day, all night again, until he finds /something/. A scrap of cloth, a shoe, drops of blood. Anything of hers he can see or touch. If she's dead he wants to know, and if she isn't, if it's all a lie... She ain't gettin' left. However, after nearly another hour of wandering with really no direction he stops, amidst more trees, and lowers his basket to his side. His breaths are heaving ones, there's sweat on his brow, oddly enough considering the temperature. With little notion of what else to do, he simply takes a deep breath and calls out, in a very loud voice indeed, "Penny!" He doesn't care if it's stupid, he doesn't care if it might draw attention to killers potentially still about. He just wants his girl back.
It's a faint sound that intrudes upon Penny's little wallow of misery and guilty and pain that she's allowed herself to slip into. A very small sound indeed, on the edge of hearing, but it causes her whole frame to jerk upright. A human voice. Help. Assistance. She tries to give some sort of cry in response, but it comes out a little too hoarse to carry as far as Jensen's bellow. Nor does she seem to have recognized the voice, as faint as it is, merely begins stumbling in its direction now that she has a place to aim for. She makes a lot of noise, crashing through the underbrush as she runs into things and trips and generally lacks her typical grace; she's certainly a sight right now, not all that recognizable.
There's a pause, between Jensen's shouting and Penny's crashing about, that /hangs/. When he hears a respone, branches and things suddenly snapping and leaves rustling, he starts moving again, taking off in the direction they're coming from. He isn't even bothering to use his glowbasket anymore, not now that he has sound to follow; he stops occasionally to listen, changing course if he needs to. Penny is, afterall, blindfolded, and she isn't going to be taking the straightest of paths. He winces when he crashes his side into a tree, pushes himself away impatiently and keeps going. So close, so close, so close. And then, very suddenly, he collides with something that /isn't/ a tree. It yields. Trees don't yield, he isn't /that/ strong. His hand shoots out, grabs an arm, and he brings his glowbasket up to inspect what he's caught. He isn't expecting to see a very much blindfolded and scraped up Penny, with her hair looking... different. It takes a moment, maybe two heartbeats, for him to realize it's a very much /alive/ Penny, and then he makes a small noise in his throat, drops his basket and wraps both arms around her.
Penny's making enough noise that she doesn't hear Jensen's progress. Her own is very slow, a stumble backwards for every two steps forward she gets; ironic, then, that she should actually have managed to pick up her pace a little bit when Jensen collides with her. She gives a low grunt of pain as she reels backwards, one that intensifies into a pained cry as he grabs her arm, causing the bonds around her wrists to tug on the raw skin and dislocated join, and manages, "Please, I need--" before there's arms around her and her face is pressed into his shoulder and she's incapable of speech. At first, her face beneath its blindfold registers only blankness, the sudden encounter meaning little to her confused brain; her lips remain slack, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, gentle confusion. But she knows those arms, the strength in them, that heartbeat, this scent. Shock is settling in now, and she just stands there, shaking, bewildered.
"I don't know what I did wrong, I don't know what I did..." Jensen is crushing Penny to him, not at all aware just now of all the reasons why he /shouldn't/ be. His hands roam over her, over her arms, down to her hands. He's looking for things, and he indeed finds something. Bound wrists, bit of something stuck between whatever's got them tied. His jaw clenches and he pulls away. He remembers what he saw when he ran into her, so light isn't required as his hands move again to the blindfold over her eyes. He lifts it up, pushes it back over her hair and pulls it free so he can drop it to the ground. Drop it, not throw it. It's evidence. "Penny, baby, kneel down with me. Can you kneel down? Oh, jays, baby, I'm so sorry." Doesn't take a genius to know why this is happening. "C'mon, darlin'." His voice is tense and deep, gruff. He's so close to just breaking. He takes her by the arm again, gently though this time, and begins lowering himself to his knees on the ground.
Her hair is so short now that bits of it fall into her face when the binding blindfold is removed; if her hair was ever frizzy before, it's absolutely insane now with the lack of weight keeping it in check, curling every which way and obscuring her vision. It doesn't matter though, her eyes somewhat glassily locked on his face, looking -through- the curtain of roughly-hacked curls, an almost dreamy gaze. She's obedient almost instantly, her knees buckling and her face rippling -- those wrists hurt when he takes her by the arm -- and she more stumbles onto her knees than lowers herself. "I'm... tied up," she tells him, the first words spoken, and they're in an odd voice. Yes, that's shock. She's not processing, she's merely reacting, some part of her brain remaining moderately functional while the rest of it runs around screaming about Faranth-knows-what.
Jensen takes charge. He's always been good at taking charge, that's one of the reasons he is what he is. Even when all he wants to do is break down and scoop her up and keep her in a small bottle of some kind to keep this from ever happening again, he's almost businesslike. "That's my girl, I know you are." Now that they're on the ground and, most important, closer to the dropped glowbasket, he can inspect her a bit better. He pulls his knife free, the shiny sound of metal very brief, and leans in close to her. "'M gonna fix that for you, sweetheart. Then we're gonna get you warm, get you home." Far, far off in the distance, shouts can be heard. Many shouts. He winces, slips the edge of the blade in carefully, and slices one of the cords. The note comes free and he grabs it, crumples it in his fist, and continues cutting away. He's angry. He's scared and he's angry, and he can't do anything about it.
Penny flinches at the sound of the knife being unsheathed, flinches back from him. But she's either grasping what he's doing or too dumbfounded to care, because that's all the reaction she gives. Her breath does catch in her throat and she winces, badly, as one of the cords falls free. "Ow--ow, ow," She sounds like a little girl, really, complaining about a skinned knee. "Jen, -ow-. Stop." Why is he hurting her? But she's watching him, now, her expression changing. "Jen, you're-- not dead. I knew you weren't dead." She actually sounds a little smug about this, in the middle of everything.
"I know it hurts, I know. 'M sorry, just one more, darlin'," Jensen murmurs, both arms around her and his chin lifted so he can work at those cords. Finally the last is cut and slithers to the ground with the rest of the fragments and he sheathes his knife again. Then, without hesitation, he stuffs the note he found in Penny's bindings into his jacket pocket along with her blindfold, removes the article and has it settled on her shoulders in seconds. Those voices are growing louder and starting to form coherent words. "Over there!" "I see light!" Jen ignores them, his eyebrows drawn down and his eyes narrowed as he looks over her face. "You're all cut up, baby, we should stop by the-" Dead? He blinks. "'Course 'm not dead. You were the one s'posed t'be dead." Pause. Oh. Dear. His head tilts and his expression sort of pinches up. 'Oh no. No, no.' "Jays, Penny. Thought I'd lost you." And there it is, the punch in the gut. His hand cradles her cheek very carefully. His voice has dropped to a rough whisper. "I'm so sorry, baby."
The jacket is probably a good idea -- Penny's shivering by now, part from chill and exhaustion and part simply from reaction. It's been a long night. The sky is already growing lighter, dawn not long off. Penny gives a little whimper as the last cords are cut, and her arms go limp. Twelve hours with your hands tied painfully is a long time, and the pain in her shoulders probably rivals that of her wrists. "You-- think I'm cut up. You should see your face." Her look is still strange as her eyes roam that face, dreamily. Lost her? "No, I'm right here." Her arm moves oddly after its long constriction, even the one that's not hanging all funny. She rests her hand, icky with blood and all, against his chest and looks at it, brow furrowed. Then she looks up at him, face tilting toward him with that vaguely distressed look still imprinted on her expression. "Jen..." A moment there where something snaps, changes. "Jen, she cut off my -hair-!" Kiss shock goodbye. Penny stares at him, anguished, and then starts crying; her hand tightens around a handful of Jen's shirt as she leans forward, head bowed.
Jensen didn't notice the rather /off/ way in which her arm is set. If it's one thing he can easily recognize, it's a familiar injury. His jaw clenches. /Anger/. They maimed his Penny. Her words don't so much distract him as they do just get his attention. His face? He isn't concerned about his face. When that bloodied hand comes into the light he winces. It's gross, yeah, but that isn't the reason for that particular reaction. /Her/ blood. His own hand comes up to curl gently around it. He has nothing to say, and it's debatable if he even trusts his own voice, so he just looks at her. Oh yeah, he notices when her expression changes. "Yeah, darlin'?" Hair? Oh, hair. Now would be a bad time to mention how he still has what was cut from her in his pocket, so he instead slips an arm around her and holds her close. Which might hurt her. Yeesh. He doesn't shush her, doesn't try to tell her it's okay. He simply lets her cry. For a good long while, and those voices have come even closer. Vej comes crashing in through the trees, holding his knife and another glowbasket. "Cap'n!" If entering in on such a scene is weird, Vej doesn't show it. Jen turns some. "Vej. Want the men scourin' this forest. Look for anything might link us t'who did this. You find anyone, you take 'em." And leave them for him. But he doesn't add that. "Penny, baby, think your shoulder might need settin' so I'm gonna carry you back t'the Weyr."
Being kidnapped, tied up, told her lover was dead, turned loose blindfolded in unfamiliar territory -- these are things that are too much for Penny's brain to deal with right now. But the loss of her hair is something real, something concrete, and man, does she ever cry about it. "M-my hair was so -pretty-!" she wails, clinging to him with her good hand, shaking in his arms. Vej's rather abrupt entry serves to snap her out of this flood, at least somewhat -- hiccuping, coughing, she lifts her head from Jensen's shoulder and stares at the other guard. Her eyes flick back to Jensen's face as her hand turns and twines with his. "It's my wrist, not my shoulder," she tells him, almost scathingly, as if he should've somehow known. "Blasted if I go back being carried like a child," she adds, fiercely. Oh, right, like she could -possibly- walk. But it's not as if she's thinking rationally right now -- like someone after they've fallen down a flight of stairs, she's picking herself up, embarrassed, pretending like nothing happened, walking it off. Give her a few moments and she'll realize how much she -hurts-.
"Yessir." Vej turns around, sheathes his knife, pokes his fingers into his mouth and whistles to rally all the other men wandering through the trees to his location. "And where's Ashwin?" Jen wonders absently, eyes narrowed as he scans their surroundings. Little does he know. Penny is taking up most of his concerns right now though, so he isn't left to wonder very long. "Wrist?" He drops his attention downward. "Huh. Where your arms are hangin' funny then, and that ain't good either." Her next remark earns her a very faint, very half-assed version of the usual smirk. "There's my sassy girl. Consider yourself blasted." And, without warning, he puts his arms where they need to be and lifts until he's standing with her all nice and bundled up. And if he ignores any wincing or cursing or crying in doing so, it's only because this has to be done. "Vej." Vej is giving out orders to the rest of the men. He turns. "Cap'n?" "Keep everything tight." "Yessir." He seems to know what that means. "And, uh," "Cap'n?" "If you could just put the glowbasket on 'er belly there..." "Oh, uh, yessir." Because they're going ot need /some/ light, and she can even hold it up for him if she wants. And so they begin the trek back to the Weyr.
"Thank you, Vej," Penny tells the guard quite seriously, perhaps a little ridiculously, as Jensen scoops her up. "Ow-- oh, shells, Jen--" She winces, shifting herself in his arms, freeing the wrist that's been damaged in whatever way and cradling it against her body. A little more comfortable, she glares at Jensen and mutters, "I -can- walk." But she doesn't try to make him put her down-- just the opposite, she lays her head against his shoulder, the wetness of tears still on her face soaking into his shirt. "I knew you'd come," she says, softly, mumbling into his chest. "I knew. Oh, Jen." She presses her face into his chest, hiding. "I'm so sorry." She's babbling now. "I was so stupid and arrogant. I knew I should be careful, I knew someone was after you who knew about us. And I was so stupid, walking out at night like that, and I put Ginny in--" She freezes, horror suddenly transforming her face. "Jen! Ginella! Oh, Faranth, please, we have to go back-- she just blindfolded Ginny and made her walk, no telling where she is-- scared and--" She's tugging at his shirt, struggling. "Put me down, we have to go back and find her!" Never mind how Jen would've known to look for Penny if Ginella hadn't found him -- Penny's not thinking about that right now.
Vej just gives Penny a little, awkward smile and shifts from one foot to the other. Aheh. They should really stop meeting like this. As for her ability to walk? Jensen just nods in a 'yeah, yeah, yeah' sort of fashion and cradles her close when she tucks herself in. She's easy to carry. He's still running off mostly adrenaline anyway. His steps are very, very careful now that he doesn't have to worry about just himself. He has her head to be wary of whenever there's a tree too close, or just jarring in general, so it's hardly the headlong dash of before. He steps around a tree, under a branch, and answers her in a voice that's both gentle and oddly forceful. "Always gonna come." /Always/ gonna come for her. And that she knew is something he's going to cherish. He looks down at her while she goes on, shoots her little sporadic glances and hitches her in his arms a time or two. Wouldn't do to let her slide away. And when she starts in on Ginella he stops so as not to drop her and tries to silence her with little 'ssh' noises. "Hey, hey. Ginny's fine, darlin'. She got t'the bowl, she's bein' taken care of now most likely. Had Vej make sure of it. As for the rest o'that, you're right. Was stupid o'you. Was stupider o'me, not havin' someone on you. Gonna be different from now on though." There go Penny's plans for escaping a detail like Roa's. "But don't think this is your fault. Ain't. It's mine." He starts walking again, eyes straight ahead. "Wouldn't be in this situation weren't for me. /I/ should've known. Jays, if you'd been..." No. That's too hard to think about just now, when he's trying so hard to just get her home.
"She's ok?" the smith echoes, stupidly, blinking at him, ceasing her stuggles. "She -got- there? But-- she was blindfolded--" Penny certainly didn't fare all that well when she was in Ginella's place, wandering around the landscape with no eyes and her hands tied behind her. She swallows, clings to him a little more tightly. "Gin--" But that's all she says, whatever compliments or concerns Penny might've voiced dying. What can she really say, after all? If Ginella hadn't gotten there, Jen wouldn't have known to look, and Penny would still be out in the dark. Her hand tightens around its handful of shirt. "Shhh. I wasn't. I'm fine." Since when was Penny the one doing the comforting? She nestles her cheek in against him. "If it isn't my fault, it's not yours either. You weren't the one who did this." Silence for a moment. "She-- said things. Threatened..." But she can't tell Jensen who Aivey threatened. Sefton can't come into it. "Called me..." But she can't even repeat the endearments now, the ones Aivey twisted around. Another brief silence, and then the words: "She said that she cut your throat. I'm going to kill her." It's said quite matter-of-factly, and calmly. A simple statement, said like someone might say 'Looks like rain today.'
Jen's voice is a little bouncy as he navigates through a spot full of big tree roots poking out of the ground. "She'll be okay, anyway. Don't think she'll be /okay/ okay for a while yet." No, wandering around alone in the dark, just trying to find your way back home, blindfolded and unable to use your hands? Probably not something one recovers from all that quickly. "Doubt you're gonna be okay for a while yet either. Damnit. I really fucked everything up this time." Oh, he's angry. Angry at himself, angry at not being able to /do/ anything. Her comforting isn't lost on him, but he can't really respond to it like he might want. Which is a pity. "You ain't fine. You're cut up and you got your own blood all over you," as if if it was someone /else's/ blood it would be /fine/, "and someone took you from me. /Shit/." Angry. The initial oh god Penny's alive and right here pleasantness is fading. "Ain't the one who did this, but I sure let it happen. /Fuck/ me. Hush, darlin'." And that sounded harsh, and he knows it, so his next words are softer. Threatened... Ugh. "'M sorry you had t'do this. Nobody should have t'do this." But that last has him smirking again. "That's my girl." His Penny. He isn't even about to argue with her over that. He can't deny her that. The Weyr is finally coming into view, and within moments they're at the tunnel entrance. He continues on in and through.
If Penny's offended by the harsh language... well, she's not. How could she be, when she was yelling identical curses hours before? But her expression does flicker, away from that calm, cold hatred of the anonymous perpetrator and into a softer one as she tilts her head back, looking up at him. She lifts a hands, presses her fingertips to his lips. "Shh. No. Jensen, you came for me. You found me. You did everything you could, and it was more than enough." She keeps her fingers against his mouth. "There's no one in the world safer than me when I'm with you. Tell me you know that." For some reason this seems very important to her. The entrance to the tunnel causes her to lift her head. "Jen. Please let me walk?" Because they'll be encountering people soon. And Penny doesn't want to be carried. Her pride picked an awfully strange time to rear its head.
Jensen pauses inside the tunnel. It's empty, nobody wants to come and go when it's getting so late. And it is, a little past midnight now. He looks down at her, he hears her, but he doesn't respond. Instead he just watches her face, his eyes dark, and does as she asks. Very slowly and very carefully he resituates her so that when he puts her down she's on her feet. That doesn't keep him from keeping a hand on her shoulder though, to keep her steady. He reaches, takes the glowbasket from her, and pauses. The ground seems so interesting. "Can't keep you with me all the time," he tells her, his voice thick. "Everybody I care about's gonna get hurt 'cause o'me. Already has been." He tries to look her in the eye again, fails. "Things are gonna get much, much worse."
Penny winces a little as she's put down, sore feet and wrist protesting, but when she looks up at Jensen, she's smiling. "Thank you," she says simply. She listens, and is quiet for a while after he speaks. "Jen, we'll find her." She pauses, her smile turning lopsided. "You'll find her," she corrects herself, sheepishly. "How can it get worse than this? Thinking you were--" She swallows, starting to shiver ever so slightly again. And they're inside, so it can't be from cold. "Jen, my Jen, it's not -you-. It's her. Please, sweetheart, believe me. She's sick, I've seen it, heard it. You are -not- the reason this is happening." She reaches up with the uninjured -- or less injured -- hand to touch his cheek. Never mind the clotted and dried blood on it. "Look at me?" Because then he can see the faith in her eyes.
Jensen wasn't going to, nope. He can't stand to see her looking like that because, yes, of him. There's going to be nothing for convincing him otherwise. He doesn't so much listen as he does endure her words, since they're rather hard to swallow. It /is/ his fault, it /is/, why can't she /see/? But then there's a hand on his cheek, and he knows that gentle insistence. He obeys her, as he almost always does, and manages to meet her eyes without much hesitation. His jaw immediately clenches up. Look at all the cuts on her face. And those bloody wrists. And her hair. But that faith, that very faith, as if he can make anything happen... For an instant it looks like he's been made stronger by it, his chin lifting and everything, but then he sort of crumples from the inside, all at once, his hand covering hers. "We need t'get you inside," is all he ends up saying, his expression guarded.
Her thumb just strokes his cheek for a few moments, under his larger hand. Then, quietly, Penny says, "I remember you once telling me that you just wanted to show me what you saw when you looked at me." She doesn't kiss him, though it looks like she wants to, her face all tilted towards him and that look in her eye; after a moment, she even drops her hand, turning to continue the journey into the Weyr. "I wish I could return the favor." Those last words are so quiet he'd have to strain to hear them, and even then, they're easily dismissed when she sighs and moves forward, hanging onto Jensen as much for support of him as for herself.
If Jen wasn't so stubbornly pent-up, that might just have done the trick in making him truly break. As it is he's trying desperately to build back up those walls that have been torn down by this fiasco, brick by brick, step by step. He keeps their pace slow, so she doesn't tire out before they come to the end of the tunnel, and doesn't take his arm from around her waist, even when they've emerged into the Weyr proper. Just before stepping out he whispers, in a voice just as soft as hers had been, an "I love you", and then time to put up the act again. He's just helping this wounded girl to the infirmary, nothing to see here, no inner connections to try to figure out. And nobody else can hear those words echoing in his head.