dragons update (1 of 2)
Title: Ficlet 6: Greta
Rating: Not Intended for Children
Fandom: Bandom/Dragonriders of Pern crossover (posted for bandom_pern)
Pairing: None (Background Greta/Brian)
Warnings: None
Words: 1300
Summary:Greta has a lot to do.
Previous Ficlets in the Series: 1. Bob, 2. Spencer, 3. Brendon, 4. Brian, 5. Bob Again.
Ficlet 6
Greta
"That won't be enough. Get more. All that we have in the stores. Both of you. Go."
Greta's apprentices dashed away, hopping over the strewn bits of rubble and ducking between people as they made for the stairs down into the lower caverns.
She had no idea how much numbweed a dragon needed. She had no idea about dragons at all!
There weren't many times that the Healer was glad to be assigned to a hall with such a high rate of accidents and injuries that it sported its own series of rooms, complete with a store of numbweed and fellis. She was also busy enough to require her to have several journeymen and apprentices studying with her. Right now, though, she was grateful for every one of her craft. They would all be needed.
Looking around at the chaos, Greta had a moment of panic. It was too much. There were so many people with injuries. She could never help them all.
She closed her eyes and quieted her mind, calling on her training in the quiet and contemplative arts. So much of being a Healer was in bringing reassurance, and allowing people to find their own strength to heal. Greta could hear Brian near her, organising and coordinating. He sounded strong and authoritive. She knew not to worry over him. He would do his job. She would do hers. The panic receded. She breathed deep and slow, in and out, and then opened her eyes again. She would prioritise, and organise. All would be well.
"Darren, please go and find all the fellis juice that we have. Don't run with it. If it spills it's useless. Emily, take Chris with you and find the most badly injured for immediate attention. And please get someone to find me a ladder." Greta spoke slowly, taking care that none of her instructions would be misunderstood. She tried to imbue her words with confidence, looking each of her healers in the eye and receiving nods of affirmation back. They would be calm if she was calm.
The giant tail had stilled, making it much easier for Greta to assess the state of the poor creature, lying awkwardly with its wing half unfurled, crooning piteously at her rider. Greta was relieved. She'd been right to listen to Bob. Bringing her rider back had done much to calm the dragon. She was no longer thrashing, which made everything far easier.
"Miloth, will you let the Healer look at your leg? You've been hurt."
Bob spoke quietly amidst the chaos, but it didn't seem to matter. The great green head turned towards Greta, and then settled back, keeping vigil over her rider. Somehow, she had heard him and agreed.
Greta allowed herself a moment to consider Bob's face. She had seen him through much of his struggle, and had ached for him, for his loss. His lips were drawn tight and he was scowling and closed off, but he was coping. For now. She didn't doubt for a moment that this was immensely difficult for him, but she knew that Bob would do what he needed to do.
Greta took a breath and turned. She would reassure herself of Bob's state of mind later. Right now her priority was to try and help Miloth, before she caused more injury to herself and others.
The apprentices arrived carrying a large crate full to the brim with pots of numbweed. She took one of the containers in her hand and looked up at the huge expanse of dragonhide in front of her, shiny ichor staining the flank.
Greta had never been this close to a dragon. The musky scent from its hide was evident even over the stench of the smoke and dust and blood. She hoped that the drums calling for assistance had included the need for a dragonhealer. There was only so much assistance she was prepared to risk. But a healer always did what they could to relieve suffering. It was what they were pledged to do.
A refrain from one of the healer teaching songs came to her mind, What affects the dragon, affects its rider, and as the rider feels, so does his friend.
Whatever helped one, helped the other.
One of the burlier smithcrafters, Worm, arrived carrying the ladder. He steadied it as she climbed and, for the first time in her life, touched a dragon. She kept speaking to Miloth as she used a large wooden paddle to cover the wound with a thick coating of the ointment. She had no idea at all if the dragon could hear her or not, but it seemed important to reassure her as much as possible. There was no point to her trying by herself to remove the object lodged into the bunched muscle of the massive haunch. Greta inspected as far as she could see, treating a number of other smaller scrapes and burns, and then made her way back down to the ground.
Greta turned her attention back to the figure on the stretcher at her feet. Her next task was to tend to the contusion on the young man's temple. She began by washing the blood and grime off his face, and slathering the wound with numbweed before covering it, lifting his head to wrap the bandage around, securing the dressing.
The rider - Spencer, Brian had said - was young; caught in that time between adolescence and adulthood. She guessed him to be about 20 turns old. He had a strong jaw, but a gentle looking mouth. She thought she'd seen him before, possibly on other errands for the Weyr. Green dragons were usually used as messengers.
His limbs were long. One leg was splayed to the side, the foot almost falling from the makeshift bed, and the uninjured arm had been bent to keep it out of the way, elegant fingers resting on the slight round of his stomach. Greta picked up the other arm, carefully supporting the break. She was relieved that, for the moment, Spencer remained unconscious. This was much easier to do when the patient wasn't struggling.
Brian knelt down beside her as she worked to get the bones angled as well as possible and the arm strapped to a board to keep them still as they healed.
"How are you doing? Do you need anything else?"
He was rubbing his eyes, and stretching his head from side to side. Greta was sure he would have a headache before the day was out. If her hands weren't busy, she would have kneaded his shoulders, and massaged his temples to soothe away the worst of the strain. Maybe there would be time, later.
"I am almost done here. Has anyone notified the Weyr?"
Brian nodded, squinting up at the skies as though her words could summon help from the clouds. "We drummed to the Hold. They will have passed the message on by now."
Greta was starting to bandage up over the dressing and the splint, when her patient started to squirm.
"Miloth!" He gasped, evidently fighting off the effects of the fall and fellis juice. Greta hurried to finish tending his arm, steadying him as he sat up and swayed.
"You don't want to fall over, Spencer," she said firmly. "Let's not risk another blow to the head!"
She watched as he struggled to his feet and flung himself at his dragon.
All around her there were cries for assistance, for healers. Brian had placed his hand briefly against the back of her neck, squeezing gently before striding away, summoned to try and bring more order to the chaos that surrounded them.
A rush of cold air stirred the dust at her feet and Greta looked up. Her heart lifted with relief at the sight above of two magnificent dragons. She had never felt so grateful for their ability to travel between in an instant. And then the courtyard seemed to be completely full of wings.
Assistance had come. All really would be well.
next
~
Thankyou to miss_diverse for the read through and maple_mahogany (serious snogs for this one) and to barmy_bunk for the beta.
Disclaimer: The Pern universe and the world, creatures and customs that belong to it remain the intellectual property of Anne McCaffrey, and the characters referenced in this piece are fictional representations of real people. No offense or infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Rating: Not Intended for Children
Fandom: Bandom/Dragonriders of Pern crossover (posted for bandom_pern)
Pairing: None (Background Greta/Brian)
Warnings: None
Words: 1300
Summary:Greta has a lot to do.
Previous Ficlets in the Series: 1. Bob, 2. Spencer, 3. Brendon, 4. Brian, 5. Bob Again.
Ficlet 6
Greta
"That won't be enough. Get more. All that we have in the stores. Both of you. Go."
Greta's apprentices dashed away, hopping over the strewn bits of rubble and ducking between people as they made for the stairs down into the lower caverns.
She had no idea how much numbweed a dragon needed. She had no idea about dragons at all!
There weren't many times that the Healer was glad to be assigned to a hall with such a high rate of accidents and injuries that it sported its own series of rooms, complete with a store of numbweed and fellis. She was also busy enough to require her to have several journeymen and apprentices studying with her. Right now, though, she was grateful for every one of her craft. They would all be needed.
Looking around at the chaos, Greta had a moment of panic. It was too much. There were so many people with injuries. She could never help them all.
She closed her eyes and quieted her mind, calling on her training in the quiet and contemplative arts. So much of being a Healer was in bringing reassurance, and allowing people to find their own strength to heal. Greta could hear Brian near her, organising and coordinating. He sounded strong and authoritive. She knew not to worry over him. He would do his job. She would do hers. The panic receded. She breathed deep and slow, in and out, and then opened her eyes again. She would prioritise, and organise. All would be well.
"Darren, please go and find all the fellis juice that we have. Don't run with it. If it spills it's useless. Emily, take Chris with you and find the most badly injured for immediate attention. And please get someone to find me a ladder." Greta spoke slowly, taking care that none of her instructions would be misunderstood. She tried to imbue her words with confidence, looking each of her healers in the eye and receiving nods of affirmation back. They would be calm if she was calm.
The giant tail had stilled, making it much easier for Greta to assess the state of the poor creature, lying awkwardly with its wing half unfurled, crooning piteously at her rider. Greta was relieved. She'd been right to listen to Bob. Bringing her rider back had done much to calm the dragon. She was no longer thrashing, which made everything far easier.
"Miloth, will you let the Healer look at your leg? You've been hurt."
Bob spoke quietly amidst the chaos, but it didn't seem to matter. The great green head turned towards Greta, and then settled back, keeping vigil over her rider. Somehow, she had heard him and agreed.
Greta allowed herself a moment to consider Bob's face. She had seen him through much of his struggle, and had ached for him, for his loss. His lips were drawn tight and he was scowling and closed off, but he was coping. For now. She didn't doubt for a moment that this was immensely difficult for him, but she knew that Bob would do what he needed to do.
Greta took a breath and turned. She would reassure herself of Bob's state of mind later. Right now her priority was to try and help Miloth, before she caused more injury to herself and others.
The apprentices arrived carrying a large crate full to the brim with pots of numbweed. She took one of the containers in her hand and looked up at the huge expanse of dragonhide in front of her, shiny ichor staining the flank.
Greta had never been this close to a dragon. The musky scent from its hide was evident even over the stench of the smoke and dust and blood. She hoped that the drums calling for assistance had included the need for a dragonhealer. There was only so much assistance she was prepared to risk. But a healer always did what they could to relieve suffering. It was what they were pledged to do.
A refrain from one of the healer teaching songs came to her mind, What affects the dragon, affects its rider, and as the rider feels, so does his friend.
Whatever helped one, helped the other.
One of the burlier smithcrafters, Worm, arrived carrying the ladder. He steadied it as she climbed and, for the first time in her life, touched a dragon. She kept speaking to Miloth as she used a large wooden paddle to cover the wound with a thick coating of the ointment. She had no idea at all if the dragon could hear her or not, but it seemed important to reassure her as much as possible. There was no point to her trying by herself to remove the object lodged into the bunched muscle of the massive haunch. Greta inspected as far as she could see, treating a number of other smaller scrapes and burns, and then made her way back down to the ground.
Greta turned her attention back to the figure on the stretcher at her feet. Her next task was to tend to the contusion on the young man's temple. She began by washing the blood and grime off his face, and slathering the wound with numbweed before covering it, lifting his head to wrap the bandage around, securing the dressing.
The rider - Spencer, Brian had said - was young; caught in that time between adolescence and adulthood. She guessed him to be about 20 turns old. He had a strong jaw, but a gentle looking mouth. She thought she'd seen him before, possibly on other errands for the Weyr. Green dragons were usually used as messengers.
His limbs were long. One leg was splayed to the side, the foot almost falling from the makeshift bed, and the uninjured arm had been bent to keep it out of the way, elegant fingers resting on the slight round of his stomach. Greta picked up the other arm, carefully supporting the break. She was relieved that, for the moment, Spencer remained unconscious. This was much easier to do when the patient wasn't struggling.
Brian knelt down beside her as she worked to get the bones angled as well as possible and the arm strapped to a board to keep them still as they healed.
"How are you doing? Do you need anything else?"
He was rubbing his eyes, and stretching his head from side to side. Greta was sure he would have a headache before the day was out. If her hands weren't busy, she would have kneaded his shoulders, and massaged his temples to soothe away the worst of the strain. Maybe there would be time, later.
"I am almost done here. Has anyone notified the Weyr?"
Brian nodded, squinting up at the skies as though her words could summon help from the clouds. "We drummed to the Hold. They will have passed the message on by now."
Greta was starting to bandage up over the dressing and the splint, when her patient started to squirm.
"Miloth!" He gasped, evidently fighting off the effects of the fall and fellis juice. Greta hurried to finish tending his arm, steadying him as he sat up and swayed.
"You don't want to fall over, Spencer," she said firmly. "Let's not risk another blow to the head!"
She watched as he struggled to his feet and flung himself at his dragon.
All around her there were cries for assistance, for healers. Brian had placed his hand briefly against the back of her neck, squeezing gently before striding away, summoned to try and bring more order to the chaos that surrounded them.
A rush of cold air stirred the dust at her feet and Greta looked up. Her heart lifted with relief at the sight above of two magnificent dragons. She had never felt so grateful for their ability to travel between in an instant. And then the courtyard seemed to be completely full of wings.
Assistance had come. All really would be well.
next
~
Thankyou to miss_diverse for the read through and maple_mahogany (serious snogs for this one) and to barmy_bunk for the beta.
Disclaimer: The Pern universe and the world, creatures and customs that belong to it remain the intellectual property of Anne McCaffrey, and the characters referenced in this piece are fictional representations of real people. No offense or infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.