Vignette: Curtain Call.
[Warning: Contents may be unsettling to some.]
Edited to add Rio's final thoughts so that I have everything in one place
The dull ache in her back had Bailey tossing and turning. Every position she tried, uncomfortable. Eventually, giving up on sleep, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Candlario and threw a light shawl about her shoulders. Her aim had been to curl up on the couch in the main cabin and while away the hours until Rukbat rose by nosing through his paperwork.
The heavily pregnant brunette hadn’t gotten much further than a step or two when a contraction caught her in a vice-like grip. Doubling over, she gasped at the unexpectedness of it. She was still two sevens away from her due date according to what Healer Josian had told her. Another hit and tore a low moan from her, sufficient enough to waken the big man still slumbering on blissfully unaware.
*************************
Well into dusk of the next day, that initial excitement and thrill for the time having come to finally meet her daughter, had soured and waned. Beneath the surface of wan re-assuring smiles and brave facades put on for Candlario’s benefit, she was terrified, panicking when she caught the worried looks from the mid-wife and her assistant. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t quite figure out what. Nothing was making sense anymore. Whispers about the baby being presented backwards drifted around her head, taunting and goading her into fresh desperation. Whimpering softly and then panting, she stifled screams behind clenched teeth as contractions continued to butt up against each other.
Hour after endless hour, she endured what was being asked of her, fought hard against the fog that was starting to descend. From somewhere within that haze where even pain had receded, Bailey heard someone telling her to push. She was tired, so very tired. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone to sleep? She’d do it later. Yes later when she felt like she could breathe again, when all this was over. What was it they wanted her to do again?
“You have to do it now!” the stern voice insisted. Not Rio’s voice. Where was he? She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything, just strange shapes dancing before her. Panic started to claw its way through the fog and then disintegrated in the tidal wave of pain that lashed about her again.
“PUSH!!” the voice bellowed this time. From somewhere deep inside, anger sparked and wrought the desired effect with the labouring woman using the last of her reserves to bear down one last time before falling back with a long emptying sigh.
Like a boat slipping its moorings, she drifted away. Away from the pain and exhaustion, away from the pale sweat soaked shroud of her bodily existence. Away, from the lifeless form of their blue tinged son with the cord wrapped so tightly about his neck.
*******************
Inconsolable. A place Rio had been before. Or at least he thought he’d been there before. That pain, like gray rain coated him, penetrated with rusty barbs. This was nothing like those other times. This desolate shore of horror and depression was worse than anything he weathered before. As he sat there in the now quiet room, he knew he should say something, do something. Worried faces were tipped towards him but really, he didn’t care about them or their concern. The healers were fluttering around him still and somewhere, dim behind the red ringing in his ears, he knew they wanted him to let go.
She was gone.
The cold settled in his chest, even his sweat was frozen over his brow. In his arms, the last bit of warmth had faded from them as well. Distantly, he knew he would have to let go at some point. No one dared to make a move though. They let him hold the woman who would have been his wife and his child that had killed her. Time must have passed, it wasn’t dark but light in the room. He had no more tears, just the raw meat that sorrow left behind.
Someone had fetched Fremond. The old man’s face looked gray with pain and sickness. Best it be Fremond who had to take charge of this-no amount of roaring and fighting would sway the oldster. Dimly he was aware of other men from his crew too as they wrestled him away from the dead. He felt nothing but rage as they hauled him out, kicking and screaming as though he could somehow bring them back. If there were a way, he would have certainly tried it.
Days bled together, just the movement of light into dark and back into light again. Full of nothing but the endless cycle of insufferable sympathy and concern. Worse from the strangers than those he knew. He had nothing to say to them. He wasn’t alright. None of this was alright and he certainly didn’t want to hear how he would feel in a few months or stomach the advice from people who didn’t know the first thing about him and had never tried to get to know him.
********************
The end of a frustrating and exhausting day. It seemed to Rio that being a dragonrider would be easier. To simply poof *between* with nothing left would have been easier than this. He sat in the sand, trying his best to be civil to the weyr-folk he knew were there to support him and there to give their respects to Bailey and the baby. It hurt though. He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to explain why he’d chosen this means of burial for his fiancé. The flames of the pyre were long gone. Even the embers were cool and only the silvery dust remained. Heartbreaking and yet somehow bitter-sweet that the mother and child could be together forever in the end.
What items Bailey had to her name were difficult for him to let go of. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t the only one who had lost, yet it angered him to be asked to let go of anything. Why did -they- need them? In the end, he relented and parted with a few things. He hated it. Let them call him tight fisted. His time with her had been too short, those people would just have to deal with him not relinquishing her things so easily. Hanging in the air was the question of the Even’Star, all empty and haunting in the docks. She’d spoken of her family but not in the kindest of terms. He didn’t know what ghosts she hid away from him but it didn’t seem fair that he leave her most beloved treasure in this place so far from her home.
The next day he spoke with his crew and it was decided, they would limp the old girl behind the ‘Rain and take her south with her captain’s ashes. He would do all that he could to locate her family and see that the ship was sent back to them, or at least see what score needed to be settled there. It was the least he could do-try to offer some peace with that troubled family in death that Bailey didn’t obtain in life.
Edited to add Rio's final thoughts so that I have everything in one place
The dull ache in her back had Bailey tossing and turning. Every position she tried, uncomfortable. Eventually, giving up on sleep, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Candlario and threw a light shawl about her shoulders. Her aim had been to curl up on the couch in the main cabin and while away the hours until Rukbat rose by nosing through his paperwork.
The heavily pregnant brunette hadn’t gotten much further than a step or two when a contraction caught her in a vice-like grip. Doubling over, she gasped at the unexpectedness of it. She was still two sevens away from her due date according to what Healer Josian had told her. Another hit and tore a low moan from her, sufficient enough to waken the big man still slumbering on blissfully unaware.
*************************
Well into dusk of the next day, that initial excitement and thrill for the time having come to finally meet her daughter, had soured and waned. Beneath the surface of wan re-assuring smiles and brave facades put on for Candlario’s benefit, she was terrified, panicking when she caught the worried looks from the mid-wife and her assistant. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t quite figure out what. Nothing was making sense anymore. Whispers about the baby being presented backwards drifted around her head, taunting and goading her into fresh desperation. Whimpering softly and then panting, she stifled screams behind clenched teeth as contractions continued to butt up against each other.
Hour after endless hour, she endured what was being asked of her, fought hard against the fog that was starting to descend. From somewhere within that haze where even pain had receded, Bailey heard someone telling her to push. She was tired, so very tired. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone to sleep? She’d do it later. Yes later when she felt like she could breathe again, when all this was over. What was it they wanted her to do again?
“You have to do it now!” the stern voice insisted. Not Rio’s voice. Where was he? She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything, just strange shapes dancing before her. Panic started to claw its way through the fog and then disintegrated in the tidal wave of pain that lashed about her again.
“PUSH!!” the voice bellowed this time. From somewhere deep inside, anger sparked and wrought the desired effect with the labouring woman using the last of her reserves to bear down one last time before falling back with a long emptying sigh.
Like a boat slipping its moorings, she drifted away. Away from the pain and exhaustion, away from the pale sweat soaked shroud of her bodily existence. Away, from the lifeless form of their blue tinged son with the cord wrapped so tightly about his neck.
*******************
Inconsolable. A place Rio had been before. Or at least he thought he’d been there before. That pain, like gray rain coated him, penetrated with rusty barbs. This was nothing like those other times. This desolate shore of horror and depression was worse than anything he weathered before. As he sat there in the now quiet room, he knew he should say something, do something. Worried faces were tipped towards him but really, he didn’t care about them or their concern. The healers were fluttering around him still and somewhere, dim behind the red ringing in his ears, he knew they wanted him to let go.
She was gone.
The cold settled in his chest, even his sweat was frozen over his brow. In his arms, the last bit of warmth had faded from them as well. Distantly, he knew he would have to let go at some point. No one dared to make a move though. They let him hold the woman who would have been his wife and his child that had killed her. Time must have passed, it wasn’t dark but light in the room. He had no more tears, just the raw meat that sorrow left behind.
Someone had fetched Fremond. The old man’s face looked gray with pain and sickness. Best it be Fremond who had to take charge of this-no amount of roaring and fighting would sway the oldster. Dimly he was aware of other men from his crew too as they wrestled him away from the dead. He felt nothing but rage as they hauled him out, kicking and screaming as though he could somehow bring them back. If there were a way, he would have certainly tried it.
Days bled together, just the movement of light into dark and back into light again. Full of nothing but the endless cycle of insufferable sympathy and concern. Worse from the strangers than those he knew. He had nothing to say to them. He wasn’t alright. None of this was alright and he certainly didn’t want to hear how he would feel in a few months or stomach the advice from people who didn’t know the first thing about him and had never tried to get to know him.
********************
The end of a frustrating and exhausting day. It seemed to Rio that being a dragonrider would be easier. To simply poof *between* with nothing left would have been easier than this. He sat in the sand, trying his best to be civil to the weyr-folk he knew were there to support him and there to give their respects to Bailey and the baby. It hurt though. He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to explain why he’d chosen this means of burial for his fiancé. The flames of the pyre were long gone. Even the embers were cool and only the silvery dust remained. Heartbreaking and yet somehow bitter-sweet that the mother and child could be together forever in the end.
What items Bailey had to her name were difficult for him to let go of. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t the only one who had lost, yet it angered him to be asked to let go of anything. Why did -they- need them? In the end, he relented and parted with a few things. He hated it. Let them call him tight fisted. His time with her had been too short, those people would just have to deal with him not relinquishing her things so easily. Hanging in the air was the question of the Even’Star, all empty and haunting in the docks. She’d spoken of her family but not in the kindest of terms. He didn’t know what ghosts she hid away from him but it didn’t seem fair that he leave her most beloved treasure in this place so far from her home.
The next day he spoke with his crew and it was decided, they would limp the old girl behind the ‘Rain and take her south with her captain’s ashes. He would do all that he could to locate her family and see that the ship was sent back to them, or at least see what score needed to be settled there. It was the least he could do-try to offer some peace with that troubled family in death that Bailey didn’t obtain in life.