FIN - An Unforeseen Turn of Events [tag Warden]

[giftwrapped]

"Kith!"

Lanakirene didn't usually storm anywhere. She tended to move quickly, but there was rarely the kind of sharp urgency in her motions that there was in the way she was moving now. She all but burst into her office, letting the door slam behind her without noticing as she headed immediately for medical supplies. One of her hands, cradled to her chest, was bleeding. Not horribly, but there was the unmistakable bloom of deep red on the Healer-violet kerchief she had wrapped around her hand and wrist. She went to the medical supplies immediately, swearing furiously as she dug through her basket of common-use materials.

...Lanakirene? Kith's head was in the window, the dragon's eyes whirling yellow with nervous curiosity as he watched his rider fuss around the office. La didn't even look up as she opened a jar of redwort and laid out a short strip of bandage. The wound wasn't serious and her hand wasn't bleeding overmuch, but that didn't alleviate the severity of the situation, and as she dipped a cloth pad into redwort, she looked up at Kith with an expression of tense irritation.

"Get Warden," she snapped at the dragon as she dabbed the disinfectant onto the wound and bandaged it with one hand and her teeth. "The sooner the better. Little bastard," she added, and looked up when she heard Kith snort in surprise. "Not you, you idiot," she sighed, tying off the bandage and then shaking her hand, making sure she hadn't wrapped it too tightly. "But...I need you to get Warden. Something happened."

Kith rumbled softly, but nodded in a very human gesture, withdrawing from the window and lifting his head to the sky. Yusuth, Lanakirene needs to speak to Yours. If you would have him come to her office as quickly as he could, it would be best. I think there's been a bit of an accident.

[nozomi]

Yusuth had been doing his very favorite activities - sleeping. Warden did not fly shifts, which meant the huge Bronze had too much time on his hands. Oh, theories said that he should have been the one to lead the troops, fly a squad or two himself. Not so much. Without Warden there, Yusuth found himself prone to... nothing. He had enough to do being Warden's personal secretary, after all, making sure that Warden got to where he was supposed to be and all of that stuff. It sounded more official than it really was.

So when Kith beckoned, Yusuth woke up with a sleepy rumble, his large body stirring and stretching out like a housecat. The blue - the Healers - spoke to him and he shifted. Did yours do something wrong? The large dragon yawned, long limbs heaving the impressive beast to his feet. Mine, Kith's Lanakirene desires your presence. It sounds urgent. You should be quick about it.

Warden jumped at the first words from his dragon, writing utensil dropping to the floor. Then Yusuth continued on, about la, and something in Warden's stomach twisted up into a tight quiet ball. Lanakirene being 'urgent' was not something he particularily wanted to sharding hear. The leader of Warden's Weyr hauled himself up from his desk and walked as briskly as one could to La's office. Warden did not run, and he never sprinted.

But he could, and quickly at that. All he did was knock once at Lanakirene's door before flinging it open. His eyes narrowed in on the healer, and Warden said in a low voice, "What. Happened."

Mine, you don't even know what it's about.

This womans idea of urgent is not the same as ours, Yusuth. She has better things to do than harass me. This isn't a small nothing. He paused his speech with his dragon, then Warden scowled. And she's bleeding.

"You're bleeding."

[giftwrapped]

Warden comes.

Kith had returned to the window of the office once he had contacted Yusuth and was watching Lanakirene with yellow-tinged eyes, waiting for her to explain what had happened to him. He had tried filtering through Lanakirene's thoughts to get to the answer, but everything in there was confused and the snippets the little blue could manage to wrest from the healer were disturbing to him, and so he stopped trying. Whatever it was that Lanakirene had to say, he would wait for her to say it to Warden and hear it then.

Luckily he didn't have to wait long. Though Lanakirene was sitting at her desk and composed when the bronzerider burst through the door, it didn't last long. As soon as he was in the room, she was on her feet again, walking around the desk so there wasn't an obstacle between herself and Warden. His observation earned a thin-lipped smile, one of barely-contained irritation that made it quite obvious La was biting back the Pernese equivalent of No shit, Sherlock! Instead, she merely answered, "Yes." And she turned the hand this way and that, looking at the small quantities of blood that were beginning to show through the bandages. She hadn't done a very good job. "It's not bad," she remarked absently, shaking her head. "I just didn't think when I was bandaging."

And she was moving, digging through one of her boxes of supplies until she unearthed a jar of witch-hazel, and setting it down on the desk, she paused briefly to look at Warden. "I'd recommend you sit down because this is going to be a bit of a shock," she said, and for the barest moment there was a glimmer of Lanakirene's usual humour. Then it was gone as she untied the bandages and unwrapped the wounds again. Sighing as she dabbed the witch-hazel onto the wounds, she grimaced at the sting before holding her hand up to show Warden what was unmistakeably the mark of teeth. Large teeth, of a sort that shouldn't have closed on a human hand.

Dragon teeth.

"One of the Weyrlings," she said slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. "One of the greys. Golith. I was checking him, and I guess something I did must have startled him. Because he snapped at me. And caught me."

What? Impossible!

What happened, happened, Kith.

[nozomi]

"I don't need to sit down." Warden bit the words out, sharp and irritable. No matter what granule of respect he held for the Master DragonHealer, he knew of little to scare him at this point in life. Dusters, rapists, blues flying golds, bright pink dragons, dragons every color of the rainbow... Shells, he had a goldhandler flirting with him. Warden V'tya sat for no man! And Lanakirene had more balls than most men he knew.

So he scowled and glowered at the woman, refusing at first to look down at her hand. When he did, he stared. A wher. It had to have been a wher. Why would have one of the wherlings have bitten the healer? Were they old enough to have teeth? ... Were their teeth that big? He opened his mouth to ask just as La said 'Weyrlings'.

Warden's mouth closed with an audible 'click' of teeth. "I need to sit."

Impossible. Yusuth echoed the small blue even as Warden groped for a chair. The human sat down with a heavy thud, hard eyes trained on the Dragonhealer. Dragons can't hurt humans. Mine is only scarred because I was an enthusiastic infant. It's out of the question. Absolutely ridiculous.

"Shut up, Yusuth." said Warden, as if his dragon were in the room. He stared at La for a few more long moments, and then down to her hand. His square jaw set, and if anything the lines to his face seemed to have become deeper in just the span of their conversation. "Golith. The grey, the smallest one? This must be a mistake."

His head hurt. Everything in him screamed that this was wrong, those creatures should have been killed in the shells. Dragons that could hurt people.

Dragons that could draw blood and he handed them to the fucking criminals. Condemned prisoners had tools to-

"Do you have something I can throw up into, Lanakirene?" Warden looked a bit green at the gills, and pressed two fingers delicately to his lips.

He isn't lying. He's going to vomit. Get a bowl! He had fish for lunch! Yusuth paused exactly two seconds and made a mental noise made to sound like a throat clearing. -- We're not telling anyone this, right?

[giftwrapped]

Lanakirene, you can't possibly be serious. There's no way a weyrling would, no way a weyrling could -

"Kith," Lanakirene said harshly, glancing at Warden and recognizing the signs even before the bronzerider asked her for something to vomit into. Turns as a healer had taught her that certain things must always be put first, and bleeding hand or no, as soon as the words 'throw up' were out of Warden's mouth, Lankirene had a basin in her hands and thrust it into Warden's lap. And she immediately turned away; decades of experience hadn't entirely banished the sympathetic vomit reflex, and the less of the unpleasant action she had to see, the less likely she was to lose the contents of her own stomach. It was unprofessional of a healer, particularly one of Master rank, to look away from her patients, maybe. But it was better to look away than it was to vomit herself.


In the meantime...she busied herself with padding and bandages again, re-swabbing the wound with witch hazel and grumbling to herself. The sting was less this time, and as she re-tied the bandages, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Kith's head in the window.

It's not possible, Lanakirene! The blue dragon was upset, eyes whirling yellow and flecked ever-so-slightly with grey as he tried to comprehend what his rider's mind was telling him. They can't do that! Not even Semith's young!

Kith, La snapped mentally, fixing her dragon with a cold glare while she finished wrapping her hand and wrist. I don't care what tradition says; what I experienced right now says that Golith's teeth and my hand got together and it was the most wherryshit gathering in the history of Pern. She thumped her uninjured hand on the table for good measure, glaring at the dragon, whose whirling eyes subsided to a steady yellow thrum.

I don't like it, Kith grumbled, but La snorted.

"Think I do, precious?" she asked roughly, and then dug into the bag of healers' supplies that rested on her desk. Extracting a little glass vial from one of the side pockets, she uncorked it and tipped a small amount of the contents onto a piece of cloth and handed it to Warden. "Peppermint oil," she said quietly. "Dab it under your nose and it should stop the queasiness." Sighing, she reached out to take the basin from the bronzerider. Faranth, but the job of a healer was occasionally awful.

"I'll bring the basin out to dump it and get you a cup of water and then we can talk about this, how does that sound?"

[nozomi]

"I shouldn't have left my wineskin in the office." Was the first thing Warden managed to get out, his voice rasping from where he'd bent his head over the basin. Under normal circumstances, he'd have offered to dump and clean the thing out himself. Unfortunately for Lanakirene, this was no such time. He gave her the basin willingly and thrust the cloth to his nose. He breathed deep, eyes falling shut once again. "I should be drunk for this conversation, Healer."

He doesn't get drunk during important things, Yusuth said, voice dry, to both La and Kith with that one. He just wishes he was. Mine. Drink the water.

Since when did you start caring about anything, Yusuth?

I don't care. You're just grumpy when you puke.

"Shards." Warden inhaled the sweet scent again, eyes closed. When they opened, there was water, and he sipped at it. "It sounds like something highly unpleasant -" He cut off his own sarcastic mutter. Warden looked up to the Healer with an almost pained expression, lips pressed in a tight line.

He was the Warden, this was his job.

Ugh. Warden hated his job, so much.

"My first urge is to simply cripple them all." Warden sat back, his head shaking slowly. "File teeth and claws, or cull them if need be. This is not something that should be in Pern." Yusuth fell unnaturally quiet, in the back of his mind. His Bronze did not approve. "There's a reason why they were made to not hurt humans."

... V'tyaMine. And then, a large Bronze settled down near to Kith. Being a gigantic creature, he actually had his tail in the river, and twisted to push his head towards the door. Kith could stare into the window - Yusuth was going to stare in through the door as well as he could. He rumbled rare disapproval. You let them stand because a dragon is a dragon. and none deserve to die.

Warden leveled his dragon with the same hard glare he gave Z when the Wherleader said something rather stupid (which was always, in his opinion). "I said that was my first urge, you great beast. Lanakirene? You're the one the creature beat."

[giftwrapped]

Lanakirene took a deep breath and sighed it out in a huff. "I don't know, Warden," she answered, shaking her head slowly. Since she had made Master rank, she had had an answer to everything. She had been able to tell Leshta everything she wanted to hear; she had managed to field everything tossed at her by Hall and other Weyrs alike. Not much had managed to throw her, and yet here she was, shaking her head and telling someone she didn't know what to do.

And...shards, it wasn't surprising, but it stung. La had worked hard for her title, and to have everything she knew, everything she stood for thrown in her face...that was hard. But she did what she had to do. New knowledge had never invalidated a healer's job before, and this wouldn't either. It just meant that whatever else happened, there would need to be accommodations made...changes to the way things were done. She sighed again. "How many of the odd colours Impressed to prisoners again, Warden?" she asked quietly.

Four, Kith answered. But La hushed him mentally, fixing her gaze on Warden and offering him the closest thing to a smile she could manage. It wasn't very good, though, and after a minute, she sighed. Turning away and sitting down on her desk, she took a moment to compose herself. For a moment, she was the picture of defeat, a woman who didn't know what to do with herself. She ran a hand through hair that had greyed early, shaking her head and biting her lip while she tried to think of something else to say.

Lanakirene, Kith said quietly, snuffling softly in the window and trying to calm his rider. As confused and upset as the blue was, it was his job to provide an anchor for anyone who needed it, rider included. Everything will be all right.

I hope so, Kith. I...really hope so.

[nozomi]

"Four." Warden rubbed at his eyes. "Romethia. She Impressed a Pink - Knighth, in for Dust manufacturing. Kuriel, yellow, Djith, in for Dust possesion. Jarethir - J'thir, gray, Golith, as I'm sure you know - Dust. Always Dust. And Sheraz. Opal - Iiateth. Dust, and fraud. Nice boy." He pressed his fingertips against his closed eyes, hard, for just a second before his hands dropped to his lap.

Then, he shrugged, and his fingers spread, gesturing to nothing at all.

"I know of them all, I know their crimes, of what history I've been told. None of them are violent criminals, not a single one has stepped out of bounds, until this. This is out of bounds." He stood up, and scrubbed his palms against his tunic. Warden's eyes hooded as he tried to think of something properly - something properly Wardenish to say to the situation. Warden always had something to declare, ad believe, all the while he scowled about it.

V'tya just stared at the Healer for a long moment. His arms crossed, fell to his sides, and then folded over his chest once more.

"Crippling their wings do no good if they can bite us. This is something I will deny to my grave if you tell anyone, Lanakirene, but I don't know what to do. By all logic, they should be killed, all of the new colors, prisoners or no. Dragons that can harm humans are- but they have Impressed." If he didn't want to kill a bonded Wher, how would Warden handle being the reason behind the deaths of so many dragons, especially with Yusuth's (rare) concern in the back of his mind. "If the Watch are told, they will kill the dragons."

We would have not killed dragonets. Yusuth spoke to both riders and Kith, his mind-voice having settled into it's usual mild murmur. Why not tell them? It is why the Healer is here, to make sure they're okay, and they aren't.

Even the dragon had a mental shrug. Warden glared at him, in his general direction, and pursed his lips. "This is a matter for L'vey, as well. This - do you think any of the others are aware of this abnormality, Lanakirene? Have any of them showed aggression towards you?"

Perhaps it is just the grays. Even Yusuth sounded doubtful. He disliked this whole bothersome thing.

[giftwrapped]

Four.

It was too many. Far too many. La sighed heavily, looking to Warden again. "I...if you went to cripple them, they would fight back, anyway. It would be no use," she remarked softly. "It's instinct. And while other dragons wouldn't fight hard enough to cause you harm..."

I might, Kith remarked softly, just loud enough for La to hear. I would not let them take me from the sky. His eyes whirled in distress, and La laughed softly, sliding down from her desk and heading to the window. She reached up, stroking the muzzle beginning to grey out with age - early, she noted dully. Stress was getting to them both. To them all. And this wasn't going to help at all. Kith calmed, she turned back to Warden and gave him a sad expression that might have been considered a smile in other circumstances. It looked more like a grimace.

"None of them have been aggressive toward me. As I said, I just startled Golith, and he reacted instinctively...I suspect he was just as surprised as I was." She gave another soft, humourless laugh, then. "I...would not recommend we tell the Watch anything until we have a plan for how to deal with them. Otherwise, you're right. We'll have them back here with syringes filled with fellis. And I will not allow anyone to send a rider dragonless - criminal or not, atypical or not." For a moment there was intense passion in her voice, her bearing - everything. Her world turned upside-down, the healer would cling to those few moments of normalcy that she could manage. And then the fight went out of her and she was again quiet, defeated.

"You weren't going to teach criminals to between before," she remarked. "I spoke with L'vey. I would recommend that until we know what to do with them, we not teach any of the atypicals. It will be safer that way...at least until we know what to do." She paused thoughtfully. "All of them dust. Dust...will kill dragonets. Could kill adult dragons. Even the mentally addicted - not just physically - should realize that they'd be destroying a part of themselves if they tried it. Maybe we won't have anything to worry about. But you're right. We need to speak with L'vey."

[nozomi]

It will be the Watch grounding you if they learn of what we know. Yusuth sounded doubtful, but he withdrew his bulk from the doorway. He hovered, almost concerned, in the back of Warden's mind, but otherwise unconcerned. He was a large Bronze, after all, and served in the Watch for years. While not exactly the dragon with the best of memory, Yusuth never the less knew that four or five fellows of his color could take down both himself and Kith with little more than a thought. Maybe not Kith, if they couldn't catch him, but... The Watch have control of the Weyrs, and the Golds. The Golds can make us come down, if we try to leave.

"Stop giving a flying wherrie shit, Yusuth. I liked it better when all you wanted was to sleep." Warden snorted and rubbed, once again, at his face. He shook his head again (he kept trying to deny but it didn't work). "Dust is not something people give up willingly. Duster prisoners were allowed to stand on the thin hope they could over come it but I don't have high hopes for their willpower if given the opportunity to do it again."

Warden never harmed Yusuth with his fellis. Or maybe he did? Maybe the life of constant fellis addled his dragon in there somewhere--

No, Mine. Yusuth snorted, words private to his rider. I never cared about anything anyway. Just about you.

Aren't you a sentimental beast. Warden couldn't help the slight curve of his lips anyway. He liked his sentimental beast. He cleared his throat regardless. "Right. To L'vey. I'll go speak with him, alone. You... care for yourself, Lanakirene. After this," Warden grinned, wry, and his eyes tired. "After this, I break out some Benden, and we forget this conversation ever happened. What do you think?"

[giftwrapped]

For a moment, Lanakirene's expression was harsh, but the lines smoothed to tiredness, and for the briefest of moments, her expression made the lines of her face match in age with the colour of her hair. She sighed heavily, rubbing the back of the bandaged hand before looking up at Warden and nodding.

"I think, Warden V'tya, I think that sounds like a plan."

There was a smile on her face, but there was no humour in her voice. This wasn't funny. Nothing about it was funny.