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Weekly Digest 22 - (#66 - #68)
🕑 Added 2021-07-10 17:00:04 +0000 UTCLori Goes To The Hospital
It was, by Lori estimation, more than a taum and a half away from the center of the demesne in a straight line, through uneven terrain and thick foliage. It was a long walk, made longer by the fact her legs throbbed, her side hurt, and her arm was bleeding. That latter she was able to restrain by binding the wisps to stay in her veins, which was basic Whisperer medicinal magic, but it still hurt, every step jarring her and making her aware there were earthwisps in her wounds that she couldn't concentrate on getting rid of right then.
Tackir must have been a fast runner, because it wasn't long before he came back with Rian and some other people. She vaguely recognized at least three of the doctors. When they came close, someone of began unfolding a large canvas she recognized as one of the old tents, laying it out on a bare stretch of ground.
Rian reached her first, and would have grabbed her other arm to pull over his shoulder if she hadn't pulled it back with a pained hiss and a glare. Fortunately he got the hint, calling for water to wash her wound and for everyone to get ready to start carrying her. Ah. Right. She should have remembered they still had some water. That was stupid. She should have remembered.
The water stung as it was poured over the wounds on her arm, and she winced, gritting her teeth. Someone grabbed her hand and she nearly pulled it back before she realized it was one of the doctors, reexamining her wounds.
"There's matter in the wounds," he said, his words clipped and professional through his northern accent. "We'll need to debride, Great Binder."
"Please tell me we still have some kind of antiseptic," Rian said, hovering behind them, just tall enough to see around them.
"We'll have to check our supplies," another man said as the people Rian had brought finished laying out the canvass. "Great Binder, can you walk?"
"I can," Lori said. "I'd rather not. It hurts. Though I don't think anything is broken."
"We'll be the judge of that, Great Binder," one of the other men—another doctor—said.
She was laid down on the canvas, and one of the people there—a woman, thankfully—began prodding her limbs, checking for broken bones. Even just through her clothes, the prodding at her right side drew pain, but eventually they concluded that nothing seemed broken, though they lacked the equipment to know for sure.
"I need to look into your eyes, please," the doctor said, pulling out a small mirror.
"I didn't hit my head, I'm not concussed," Lori said.
"You don't need to hit your head to become concussed, your Bindership," the doctor said. Lori recognized him. He was the one she borrowed scissors from. "A sudden stop will do. Please hold still and let me keep you alive."
Lori pointedly waited, and when he didn't just grab her head to do it anyway, acquiesced. "Fine," she said, trying to relax as her head was held and eyelid peeled back, while the doctor tried to use the small steel mirror to reflect light into her eyes.
Well, if she was going to be stuck here, she might as well be useful.
"Rian," she said. "Have Tackir go back to the clearing we just came from, there's a large conglomerate of dragon scales there. Have him mark it so at I can recover it later. And have him pick up my bag and hat!" She'd only just noticed she'd lost her hat in the fall.
"The dragon scales you just got hurt from by falling off?" Rian said, some kind of restrained emotion in his voice.
Lori would have nodded, except her head was being held still. "That one. Make sure he marks it, I'm fairly sure at least one of the dragon scales is made of anatass."
She heard Rian sigh. "Go do what she said, Tackir. Walk, don't run, you've done all you can. Be careful on the way back. Koe, go with him so that if anything happens he's not stuck out here alone."
Lorry heard a pair of "Yes, Lord Rian", and someone apparently walking back the way they'd come.
"This anatass is worth nearly getting yourself killed, I hope?" Rian said. He sounded… very, very sarcastic.
"No, of course not," Lori said. "Nothing is worth nearly getting myself killed."
"Ah. So it wasn't the anatass that had you joyriding such that you could have broken your neck and died," Rian said, nodding. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure whatever reason you had for nearly getting yourself killed was worth it and sure to be a great boon to the demesne."
She gave him a sharp look that was ruined when she hissed as someone patted her wound dry, then quickly began wrapping her forearm in a soft, fluffy bandage. "I didn't think you were capable of sarcasm," she said.
"I didn't think you were capable of suicide," he said. "Today is full of surprises. Tackir said you hurt your side. Where does it hurt?"
"Guess," she said flatly, wincing again as the bandaged was secured.
"I used to think it was safe for me to do that, but clearly I was wrong, since I never guessed you'd get yourself hurt after so many reminders to be careful," Rian said. "Now, which side is it that hurts?"
"My right," she snapped.
He nodded curtly. "All right, you heard her everyone. Be careful with her right, she hurt herself there." He sighed. "Lie down on the canvas and we'll carry you back. Tuck your arm against your chest so it doesn't flap around"
Lori glared at him, but she ached too much to really put him in his place. Maybe later, when… yes, when her arm wasn't slowly staining a bandage red, most of her right side didn't feel like it was melting from pain, and it didn't hurt to bend her knee…
She lay down gingerly on the canvas, trying not to feel like a specimen corpse being brought in for educational dissection before it was Deadspoken into a useful undead. They'd tied the side of the canvas to poles, the kind they'd used to make spears with beast-tooth heads, which the men on both side of her bent down to grasp. At a countdown, they all lifted the poles, pulling lori and the canvas up with it. She let out another hiss as her side was jarred, then jarred again as the group started moving briskly back to towards the Dungeon.
Lori just lay there, wincing every time a break in the tree cover let the sunlight fall directly onto her eyes, and eventually she just closed them, protecting her vision. She started breathing in evenly, drawing in magic, trying to keep herself calm and centered, to have something to focus on besides the pains in her side as she was jostled across the uneven ground. She could hear Rian next to her letting out an unending stream of prattle, occasionally warning her of bumps or slopes, though it was never as bad as he seemed to be warning her…
When she next opened her eyes, they were in the shadow of the hospital. These days, it was mainly the residence of the unmarried doctors and former militia medics, guarding what few medicines they still had, and trying to grow medicinal plants that had originally been brought from River's Fork. The latter was barely more than headache medication, as no one was likely to come down with a heart attack any time soon, and the doctors had intelligently not brought any of the addictive anesthetics with them, since they'd originally had a Deadspeaker.
There was a brief moment of confusion as they tried to fit her stretcher through the door, but eventually she was inside the cool shade of the hospital and being laid down on a bed and oooohhhh lying down on the cushioning of a bedroll felt soooooogood. The comfort of lying down on something that was actually soft and meant for lying down on almost eclipsed the pain of her arm and side…
Lori winced as someone grabbed her bandaged arm and started to unwrap it, pulling her out of the happy softness and into the painful reality of her current situation.
"Stop glaring, it's not going to make the pain go away," Rian said, sitting next to her bed.
"Don't you have work to do?" she said.
"Yes, that's why I'm here," he said. "I'm supposed to keep you alive, remember? I thought you could do your part in that, but since it turns out you can't, I now have to do twice as much work. What were you thinking?"
Lori directed her glare at him. "Watch your tongue," she warned. Perhaps she'd been indulging him too much, with how free he was being with it.
"My Binder was shown idiots and their idiocy shouldn’t be tolerated," Rian said. "I'm following her example. Were all the reminders about being careful and watching your step so you didn't break your leg so offensive to you that you wanted to try breaking your neck instead?"
"It was an accident," Lori snapped defensively.
"An accident you could have easily avoided by not sitting on a moving rock, from what Tackir was able to tell us," Rian snapped back. "For someone who insists on being the most important, irreplaceable person in the demesne, you seem to have forgotten you're the most important, irreplaceable person in the demesne!"
Lori's caustic response was delayed by someone brushing a liquid on her arm that burned, and she nearly screamed, instinctively trying to pull her arm away from a suddenly iron grip before she recognized the alchemical agony of antiseptic on her wounds. She grit her teeth, trying to breathe through the pain, taking in magic in the familiar exercise.
"Your Bindership," the doctor holding her arm said as one of the medics continued cleaning it with antiseptic. "I'm afraid there are debris in your wounds. Unless we remove them, infection is all but certain. Do we have your permission to operate on your arm?"
"I can get them out myself," Lori said, gritting her teeth.
"With all due respect, your Bindership, you shouldn't. Some of the debris isn't rock, and it still needs to be cleaned. And, again with respect, your Bindership," the doctor said calmly, "if you could treat this, you'd have done it already."
If she could treat this? What did they…?
"Doctors," Rian said suddenly, "are educated people. And generally not stupid. The stupid ones just focus on making money, and even they have to be pretty smart to do that. And you've only ever used Whispering."
Lori blinked, then stiffened on the bed, a heartsick cold filling her.
They knew.
They knew!
"As Lord Rian has said, your Bindership, we are not stupid," the doctor said. "I don't know if anyone else knows, but my new colleagues all relate that their former Binder only ever used Deadspeaking after setting up their demesne. And all you've ever built has been with Whispering. Lord Rian has spoken to us about not spreading the matter, and we have not. That being said, your Bindership, do I have permission to begin debriding your arm?"
"Debriding?" she asked, trying to place the word.
"Removing the debris, your Bindership, else we will not be able to prevent infection," the doctor said calmly as the vocabulary fell into place. "Some are embedded, and we might need to use our scalpels. I fear you might assume that was an attempt on your life, so we are notifying you. I also regret to inform you we are out of anesthetics, topical or otherwise."
Lori didn't whimper. She was a grown adult and a powerful Binder. Those do not whimper in fear of pain.
Eventually, she said, "Do it." And if it was with gritted teeth, well, her side hurt.
She was already immensely regretting riding that rock. How could she have been so stupid? Not that she'd tell Rian…
"We shall have to immobilize your arm, your Bindership," the doctor said. "Please don't try to move. We will try to be as quick as possible."
"Just do it," she said.
The doctor nodded. "I… would stronglysuggest you avert your gaze, your Bindership," the doctor said. "Seeing your own flesh be operated on can be quite distressing and is known to intensify the sensations, as well as cause people to struggle." The doctor hesitated. "If you think you can risk removing the lightningwisps in your arm to deaden your nerves, then I leave that to your judgement."
"Noted," Lori said through gritted teeth.
Her arm was secured to some sort of armrest attachment that they secured to the bed. Her arm rested on warm copper fittings that had likely just had boiling water poured on it to sterilize it. She didn't remember them having this device before, so it must have been made from the demesne's precious copper stores. Antiseptic was wiped over her wounds one last time.
Even if Lori wanted to keep an eye on the person who was about to start carving at her flesh with knives and tweezers and strange little picks and forceps and other tools, the way her arm was position prevented it, naturally forcing her to lay on her left. So she was looking directly are Rian as she felt the warm blade of the copper scalpel on her skin…
She grit her teeth and hissed through it. If this was a way to lower her guard so they could sever her wrists, she wanted all the warning she could get.
Eventually, Rian held out his hand.
Eventually, Lori took it and squeezed, holding on as she tried not to scream…
"I blame you for this," she hissed. "The map was your idea."
He rolled his eyes. "Noted."
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Wounded
Trying to manipulate the wisps in one's body aftera painful surgical operation had begun was an agonizing experience Lori never wanted to repeat again. It also revealed how little she actually knew about the interactions of lightningwisps and her body. The first painful lesson was that the ones that let her move her arm were distinct from the ones that let her feel her arm. She wasted a lot of time finding out the difference.
Even when she managed it, it was surprisingly hard to maintain. Her previous experience was that once your limb goes numb from you taking the lightningwisps there and moving them someplace else to use them—for example, for throwing lightning—it took some time for the lightningwisps to replenish and sensation to return. Her connection to the core, however, mean that magic constantly caused the wisps in her body to replenish and equalize, so she had to constantly manipulate the wisps in her arm to maintain numbness, which meant that pain would occasionally break through.
The plate on the device that was restraining her arm was apparently there in case she made some kind of mistake doing exactly that, and was meant to draw the resultant lightning to the metal and into the ground and not, for example, the doctor holding the copper scalpel.
If nothing else, the exercise gave her something to focus on, especially when she wasn't able to restrain a new surge of lightningwisps and feeling returned. Between that and Rian, her mind was quite occupied.
"Still think you shouldn't have asked to exchange pointers with Shana about how to do magic?" Rian said as she tried her best to break his hand solely with the grip of her left.
"Shanalorre," she corrected through gritted teeth. "Are you still on that absurd idea?"
"You could have at least asked," he said. "You could really use knowing how to heal right around now."
"Because the entire idea is nonsensical," Lori said. "In addition to the fact she's another Binder, and has absolutely no reason to teach me anything, and several reasons not to, she's a savant. They don't know what they're doing until they've been properly educated and are taught the basics, and sometimes—" she hissed as sensation returned at an inopportune time, and cut off her line of thought to pull back the lightningwisps.
"Sometimes?" Rian prompted.
"Sometimes they need to learn more advanced principles first as well," Lori said. "Considering she's a completely uneducated wild savant, the possibility of her teaching me anything is less than nothing."
"You should have still tried," Rian said.
"Your delusional optimism is amusing only up to a point."
"You too," he dryly. "Does it hurt?"
"Obviously," she hissed, needing to pull the lightningwisps from her arm again.
"Good. Maybe this'll keep you from trying to ride any more rocks."
"It was an accident!" she snapped.
"Accident or not, we'd still have a dead Binder," he snapped right back. "Seriously, you have one job: don't die! How hard is that to do? Everyone else is managing it!"
"Are you questioning my authority?" she said threateningly, or at least as threateningly as she could on her back, one arm strapped down, and holding his hand.
"Your authority is undisputed, I'm questioning your survival instincts!"
"I wasn't supposed to fall off!"
"Well, what did you think would happen when you sat down on a moving rock and became the highest thing on it? It's not exactly the most stable platform!"
Lori glared at him, and he glared right back, though they were interrupted with another twinge of pain erupted from her arm.
It wasn't enough she was having her arm cut up. It wasn't enough her right side ached and her shoulder was throbbing terribly. It wasn't just that Rian seemed to be actively mocking her today.
On top of all that, she was hungry. They'd left their lunch behind, after all.
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Eventually, after more time and pain than she thought was reasonable, a small copper bowl that had been filled of piece of leaves, wood and stones—how had she not noticed she'd fallen on so much rock?—and another burning wash of antiseptic solution—something else they were running out of—her arm was bandaged and her partially dislocated shoulder was snapped back in place—that explained why it hurt so much without being broken—Lori was so exhausted she just slept, her arm held elevated for medical reasons.
She woke up to pain, as the right side of her body continued to throb, and she resigned herself to widespread bruising. Also, someone had been trying to strip her naked in her sleep.
"No," she said flatly as the woman with pale, lightly pink-tinged hair—she vaguely recognized her as one of the medics that had come in with the people from River's Fork—started taking off her shoes.
"Great Binder," the woman said, her northern accent mild and clipped, almost brusque. "My name is Daising. We need to clean you and get you changed, or it will inhibit your recovery. Some provided clothes for you, although if these are insufficient, Lord Rian says to inform us so and open your rooms so he may recover clothes for you."
"I can get them myself," Lori insisted, attempting to sit up.
Her right hip protested with everything short of actual violence, with other rightward parts of her body expressing their solidarity.
As she lay back down on the warm, slightly sweaty bed completely of her own volition and no other reason, Lori supposed it was about time she allowed the people of her demesne to serve her by attending to her whims.
However, she drew the line at nudity.
"My pants stay on," she said.
"If you wish, I could bring you the skirt and you can put that on before removing your pants, Great Binder? They're staining the bed."
Lori blinked, and look down, realizing her pants were stained with dirt and mud. Ah, that must splashed on from washing her arm. She looked down at her shirt, realizing it had bloodstains on it. That was never going to come off, not with the soaps they had here. Taken altogether, she was a bit of a mess. She supposed it was time to change clothes in any case. It had been some days.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"The sun is setting, Great Binder," the medic said. "People are putting away work and going to the baths." That last was a bit too pointed.
"Yes, yes, I understand," she grumbled. "Where are the clothes?"
They been folded on a stool next to the bed. Lori had to wonder how many stools had been made by the carpenters, how much time that had taken from putting roofs on houses, and why hadn't she gotten one? Not that she needed one, since she didn't entertain in her bedroom and her bed was fine to sit on, but it was the principle of the thing!
Still, the blouse seemed like it would fit, and the skirt could be adjusted for her waist. Really, all that was missing was socks and underwear, and hers were still relatively new.
Lori sighed and started trying to take off her clothes.
It was agonizing. Her time asleep seemed to have allowed most of her right side to become one large bruise, and she needed help getting her shirt off. She kept glancing at the windows, but fortunately no one was peeking through them. Once her shirt was off, the medic helped her wash her upper body with a cloth and a bucket of water. Lori grit her teeth as her injuries were wiped down, then again as her chest wrappings were put back on. Or rather, the wrappings someone had brought. Ugh, she'd have to figure out whose it was so she could return it. She wasn't looking forward to that.
She had to get more help slipping the blouse on. A part of her was pettily glad it was only as comfortable as her own shirt. She also had to get help putting on the skirt. It had been so long since she'd last worn one, she had to be reminded it could be put on over her head. After finally settling it slightly above her waist, she finally undid her pants, then had to breathe through her nose to try and control the pain as they were pulled off. After that, she had to endure the woman washing her legs, which went up almost uncomfortably high.
Finally, however, the suffering ended, and she was able to lie back down on the bed. It still smelled slightly of sweat, but once she flipped the pillow over to its other side that as the medic folded her clothes and set them aside for later. Then it was time to change her bandage. The blood had dried, and part had scabbed, and Lori had to numb her arm again as the inner bandage had adhered to her wound and had to be tentatively pulled off, which of course hurt. Everything had been hurting. This whole day seemed to be nothing but hurting.
There was more hurting as the wound was washed, even more hurting as antiseptic was used on it, and then a relative twinge of agony as it was wrapped with new bandages, still warm from being boiled. She was also offered some osiel bark for the pain, which she took reluctantly. It was tough to chew, but it did help, a little.
"I also recommend putting ice on your injuries, Great Binder," the medic said. "Though you will need to create the ice. I have some water here, and a mold to form it."
Lori scowled in annoyance. She was tired, hurting, hungry, and now she had to make ice? Well, at least it was going to be used to her benefit.
And she had to admit, the leather bags full of ice on her would, while initially painful when laid on, felt very nice…
When she woke up again, the medic was taking off the bags of mostly water, and Rian was sitting on the bed opposite her, his legs crossed and balancing a plank of wood, writing with a twig that still smoked slightly. Next to him on the bare wooden bed were three wooden bowls of food, as well as a pitcher of what she could tell was full of waterwisps, and two cups. Between them was a single fat candle, usually kept in reserve in case of a dragon. Most of their fat was used for soap.
For a moment, she just lay there despite her left side feeling numb from lying down on it, staring at her lord, who seemed to not have noticed her attention yet. At some point, someone had pulled a sheet up to her waist.
"What are you doing here?" she said eventually. That caused the medic who'd been straightening her blouse to pause for a moment, before removing her hands.
Rian looked up from his writing board. "You hungry?"
"Obviously," she said. "What are you doing here?"
"My lordly duties," Rian said, setting aside his plank and his twig. "Keeping you from having to talk to people, keeping people from having to talk to you, and keeping you alive."
"You did a terrible job," Lori said.
"Who do you think told medic Daising what she should say to not annoy you?" Rian said, nodding over her and presumably to the medic, who Lori could feel behind her as a void of wisps. "Thank you Daising. Why don't you go home, I'll take it from here. If something happens I'll wake one of the others."
"As you say, Lord Rian," the medic said, and Lori felt her walking away, heard the door open and close.
"Can you sit up?" Rian asked. "I have food here."
"I saw," Lori said. "What makes you think I'll eat it, after your insolence?"
"Because you missed lunch and dinner, same as me," Rian said, "and you're not the type to inconvenience yourself to spite someone else. You prefer it the other way around."
Lori kept glaring at him, then slowly lay down on her back, careful of her right. It still throbbed, but seemed to hurt the that little bit less. She sighed as feeling started rushing back to her left. Rian stood, and she watched him warily as he picked up a strangely wide tray and laid it over her legs, where it stood like some kind of table.
"They had this made for people who couldn't get out of bed," he said, "so they can eat. Which bowls do you want?"
"Do you think I've forgotten?" she said. "My sleep wasn't that restful."
"What, me questioning your survival instincts?" Rian said. "Given the stunt you just did, I think I had a legitimate right to question it. If you'd been doing so much work you'd rather die, you should have at least told me about it. I could have done something."
"It was an accident," she repeated insistently.
"A completely avoidable one, from what I heard," Rian said, putting the three bowls on the strange tray, all three with spoons in them. He'd folded up the edges of the bedroll she was lying on so that the tray rested on the table, so it didn't move when she shifted. "Am I sounding like your parents again?"
Yes.
"Yes," she said coldly. "You are not. You serve me."
"And this is how I'm doing it," he said. "By reminding you so much you become sick of it that you're not allowed to risk your life. I can't serve you if you're not alive to serve, Lori."
"This insubordination is service?"
"Well, you are bad about being paranoid for your safety," he said. He pointed. "You haven't even noticed that knife yet."
She turned, following his gaze, and saw her knife, the one he'd insisted she bring along in case of an emergency. Next to it were her utensils.
"It fell off when you did," Rian said. "I suppose you didn't secure it very well. I thought you'd want it brought back to you sooner and not later when you realized it was missing. See? Service. You should probably put that under your pillow or something. Wouldn't want it just lying there tempting people, after all."
She glared at him and reached of the knife.
Agony erupted in her right arm as she remembered her wounds to late. She hissed, and it took her a while to remember to draw out the lightningwisps to numb the pain. That caused her arm to collapse life a dead weight, however, as the muscles in it ceased being able to function under her control.
Rian rounded the bed to her right side, moving aside the stool where the clothes she was wearing had lain as she breathed in phantom pain and anticipation of pain, letting her right arm rest on her chest. "Do you want me to hand it to you?" he said.
She glared at him. "Fine."
He picked it up, and held it to her, handle first. She took it and awkwardly tucked it under her pillow.
"See? Service, you ungrateful pain in the ass. Now, which of the food are you going to eat so I can finally have dinner?"
She glared at him, because she hadn't ordered him to skip dinner until she ate, and what if he was so weak with hunger that he fumbled messily in delivering the food, then struggled to sit up. He wordless reached for two more pillows just lying on the bed behind him and tucked them behind her back to help hold her up. They were small and worn, but they helped. She picked a bowl and slid it towards him.
He took it and sat down on the stool, eating a spoonful as she touched her food, judged it was too cold, and began to warm it. Despite the fact the food was likely cold, congealed and unappetizing, he ate it as if it was fresh from the kitchen, and was already halfway finished when she judged her food was warm enough for her, the smell of warm stew filling her nose.
She reached for a spoon and nearly screamed in agony as the injured edge of her right arm struck the wooden tray.
As she leaned back, hissing through her teeth and trying not to shed tears in pain for one too many times that day, Rian put down his empty bowl and picked up one of the bowls she'd just warmed. As she glared at him, he stirred the bowl and took a small spoonful.
"Open your mouth," he said.
"I'm not a child," she said.
He didn't say anything else. Just sat there patiently
Eventually, angrily, she opened her mouth.
She burned her tongue.
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Oh, Rainbows
When Lori woke up, her initial confusion and almost panic at waking up in a strange place was detoured by the fact she hurt. Her right side throbbed and felt stiff, as if solidifying, and her right forearm… it didn't throb, it had been dipped in molten wax and someone had opened her veins to push that wax into her veins. It pulsed, keeping time like a painful heartbeat, and the bandages felt too tight. She also had a headache for some reason, and she was thirsty.
For a moment, she just lay there on the bed, recalling the events that had brought her there and stewing in immediate regret.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She shouldn't have ridden the dragon scale conglomerate, no matter how much her feet ached from walking. It had been such a dangerous. Stupid idea, and now here she was stuck on a, admittedly very soft and comfortable and so much nicer than her own, bed.
And now she had to relieve herself, and she had a feeling that one way or another, this was going to be very undignified.
As she thought of struggling out of the nice, soft bed, there was a thump next to her, and she painfully turned her head— pulling at her right side, ow—to find Rian sleeping on the bare wooden bed next to her. The thump was his bent leg inexplicably kicking the planks under him, even as his eyes stayed closed and the rest of him lay tranquilly.
She watched, bemused, as he kept kicking the bed despite giving all signs of being fast asleep. Absently, she heard a door open, and one of the doctors came out, blinking, to see what was wrong. He took one look at Rina, turned around, and went back to his room, shaking his head.
For a moment, she just lay there with nothing but Rian's strange sleep-kicking and her pain to keep her company. Why was her neck hurting? That was one of the few part of her right side she hadn't hit…
And then her body reminded herself it had other functions with which to make her uncomfortable.
Wincing, she tried to get to her feet. Her right arm still worked, despite pulsing with agony, and if she held it against her chest, it wouldn't swing around and hurt. No, instead it would stay in place and hurt, but at least it was hurting because she was keeping it under control, not because it was just hanging loose. Her hip hurt from, but not incapacitating. It was… pain. She could live with it.
The stone floor was cold under her feet, and for a moment she wondered where her socks were. The thought was fleeting, however, as her standing up seemed to give added urgency to her needs. Fortunately, she'd been the one to put the latrine here, and she'd been back recently to alter it so the waste could be cleaned out from outside, so she knew where it was.
It was dark in there, but she was a Whisperer. Light was not a problem. Taking off her skirt was harder, because she hadn't worn a skirt since she could stop and had to remember how to get it off…
Putting it back on was also a challenge, but having one less thing hurt let her find the strength to do it. Limping across the cold stone floor, she contemplated… what? Going back to her room in her bare feet to get new clothes? Which she'd have to put on one-handed? Work through the day like this, her right arm beating like a second heart that only pumped pain?
…
Sighing, she tried to look for her shoes and socks without needing to bend down so she could go outside.
She was trying to remember how to make a reflective binding with lightwisps so she could see under the beds without bending over when she heard someone say, "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Looking for my shoes," she said, finally remembering that it was simple redirection and making the necessary binding, swaying a little as she bent down to look though it. "I have work to do. I need to finish the second level so the people can start moving there." No, her shoes weren't under the bed. "Where are my shoes?"
"I had them washed," Rian said. "And someone with cobbling tools is going over them for any damage."
Oh. Well… good!
"What about my socks?" she asked.
There was wooden creaking, and the sound of bare feet on the stone floor. "Getting washed, along with the rest of your clothes. People are very happy with the new washing area, by the way. People had already put up washing lines yesterday. I think we're going to have far fewer incidents of people 'borrowing' each other's washboards in the bath house. How did you know about that?"
"Know about what?" she said, trying not to move her head too much. It seemed to ache from inertia when it had to stop.
"Ah. Never mind, then,"
She frowned, annoyed. Why did he waste her time when she was trying to find her shoes? No, wait, he'd already told her…
"Lori, why don't you go back to bed and I'll get you some breakfast," Rian said. "I'll get you some water too, how about that?"
He held out his hand.
She glared at it. "I'm not decrepit," she said. "I don't need physical assistance getting to the bed."
Rian nodded. At least he was acting reasonable now. Whatever color had gotten into his head that had made him such an insolent little bug seemed to have washed away. Not that she was going to forgive him, but at least he wasn't making things any worse for himself. "Do you want me to get you that water then?"
"Fine…" she grumbled, swaying slightly as to return to the bed. "I'll just… wake up all the way first before going back to work…"
"I'm sure the weavers and ropers can wait a little," Rian said as he went to step out. "I'll have Daising come and put ice on your bruises again. Does it still hurt?"
Obviously.
"Obviously," she said, sitting down carefully since the bedroll on the bed was thin and the bed's planks hard. Her brief time away had given the thing time to cool, and now it felt nice under her as she took a moment to get her dizziness under control, using both hands to keep from swaying too much.
Her head ached. Why did her head ache? Though it was also nice and cool, if a bit uncomfortable because it was against something hard… oh. Her face was against the floor. Why was her face against the floor? She tried to push herself up, banged her right elbow on something, and screamed in agony as her right arm decided it was a good time to be carved open and spill acid all over the floor...
"Lori?-! Lori! Where-! Lori!"
Ugh, Rian, don't be so loud, you were in the same room, there was no need to yell. Argh, be gentle, that hurt…!
"You're burning up… shit… Doctor! Samoth, Ganan, anyone, I need help!"
Again with the yelling. Why was he yelling in her ear?
"Stop yelling," she said tiredly. "I can hear you just fine…"
"Did you hurt yourself anywhere?"
Yes, obviously, she'd hurt herself yesterday… her right side ached, and come to think of hit so did her the side of the neck and her armpits and…
She felt herself gently being pulled up, winced internally as she heard the commotion of the doctors coming out of their rooms. Together, the three helped her get back on her bed. She was perfectly capable of doing it herself, of course, if it wasn't for the pain on her right, and um… something…
"Lori…" Rian was in front of her. Why was he so close? She could smell his breath, and ugh it stank… "Lori, how do you feel?"
"Ugh…" she moaned.
"That's a bad moan," she heard him say. "That's a very bad moan... Lori, we're going to take off your bandages and clean your wound again, all right? This might hurt a little."
More pain. Wasn't she in enough pain? She tried to tell them no, but she could already feel the bandages being unwrapped and… ooh, that felt a little better, maybe this wasn't so—
She felt something dribbling down her arm. Was she bleeding? Argh! Argh! Stop poking, that hurt!
"Infected," she heard someone say. "This is bad, Rian. Her arm…"
Lori tried to open her eyes—when had she closed them?—but even that simple movement seemed to make her head swirl dizzily, so she had to close them again. Where was Rian with that water? She was so thirsty now…
Someone set her right arm on cold fire, and she cried out, trying to pull it away but it was held tight, and she felt so weak…
"Lori! Lori calm down! We're trying to help you! Lori, calm down!"
Rian?
"Y-yeah, it's me Lori, it's me, calm down."
Rian… it hurts…
"It'll be all right Lori, we're just cleaning your arm. Hold my hand, it'll be over soon…"
She tried to twist her body away, and immediately regretted it, her right side and her armpits and her neck and her groin all punishing her and making her suffer. She felt a hand on hers and held it tight…
––––––––––––––––––
When Lori woke up, her initial confusion and almost panic at waking up in a strange place was detoured by the fact she hurt. Her head felt like it was being squeezed, random parts of her body pulsed and ached, the whole of her felt like it had been set on fire, and her right arm… Never had she felt like she wanted to rip off a body part and cast it as far away from her as possible, but she wanted to do just that now. Her right arm wasn't hers anymore. It was clearly a traitor, sent by some unknown enemy to destroy her from within.
For a moment, she just lay there on the bed, clenching her eyes shut, trying to remember… something…
"Are we ready to launch?"
"The boat's ready, Lord Rian. Food, water, the new oars, the tent…"
"Then let's get started… hands under the bedroll everyone…"
Lori felt herself stomach lurch as she left it behind somehow, her head flopping back as her pillow fell from her head—"Shit, someone grab that!"—and her headache descended to new depths of disorientation. She felt her right arm on her chest, in fresh agony as if her wounds had all been torn open all over again…
Suddenly she was in the sun, and it was how, so hot, she was sweating, her headache pounding even harder from the new heat, and there were murmurs of people like in the bunkers, hot and bright and noisy, and dread filled her as she knew that any moment now, people were going to start making noise and call it music…
She heard splashing, and suddenly the swaying stopped, her legs dropping on something, even as the rest of her went down a little more gently. She felt her pillow being tucked back behind her head, and she wanted to look, but even though her eyelids it was so bright, and she knew if she opened them the sun would be in her eyes…
Lori felt a gently swaying back and forth, and suddenly, darkness and coolness. Her body was still hot, but no longer from the sun, even as she felt wind against her sweat, cooling her gently…
Thuds. Crunching. Rocking sideways, and suddenly she felt like she was bouncing as well as rocking and swaying as voices sounded around her confusingly, and her headache couldn't take it, make it stop, please stop…!
One voice rose above the confusion, and she focused on it, trying to hear.
"Oars in the water! We've never done this before, so we have to learn now, and we can't stop! Down, pull, up, forward, down, pull, up, forward…"
She knew that voice…
Lori fell back into sleep to the sound of uncoordinated splashing.
