Something Stinks

Writers: Miriah, Suzee
Date Posted: 27th February 2019

Characters: Cyradis, D'hol
Description: Cyradis notices some bruises.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 9, day 25 of Turn 9

Cyradis

D'hol

The previous night had been quiet enjoyable and despite his aches,
D'hol's mood had lifted and he felt far more pleasant. That being
admitted, however, D'hol wasn't stupid. He had gotten several curious
or concerned looks over his bruised face and Timassa had been quite
correct when predicting the black eye and people did tend to talk.
Thankfully, the swelling had lessened over the past two days and his
lip was healing. But until it did, there were certain people that he
was going to try to avoid; namely the one that he heard walking
directly towards his office. He tugged at his ear as he considered
quickly closing the door. He rose to do just that but unfortunately,
he did not make it to the door quickly enough.

"D'hol?" A very puzzled Cyradis put her hand on the door. "Are you alright?"

D'hol considered his answer. She'd hear about this eventually, so he
might as well just get it over with. He moved back to his desk and sat
on the edge; his activities with Timassa had aggravated some of the
bruises, especially around the ribs, but despite the soreness, it was
something he was very willing to cope with. "Depends on your
definition of fine."

She stepped into his office and then paused. "I'll say," she agreed
and took a couple of steps closer. "That looks painful," she pointed
at his eye. She knew, of course, that whatever fight he'd been in, it
hadn't been here at Dolphin Cove or she'd have known about it.

His cheek twitched slightly and he gave a slight smile. Her reaction
so far was better than he had expected. He was surprised he hadn't
been called to N'vanik's office already. "Just a bit, yes."

Obviously, he knew the rules against fighting so she wasn't going to
berate him but while he could be maddening when he wanted to be, it
was usually with words, not fists. "Someone object to something you
said?" She lifted a brow.

A little smile played around his mouth. "You could say that." His
shoulders rolled and he knew he had to speak to her about the matter
anyway. He had given his words. "I went to see Ma'din."

His son, the one who didn't like him so very much and could sling the
bad news almost as bad as his father. She snorted and turned away for
a moment pinching the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath. "So
did he start it or did you?" She hated it when she sounded like a
mother sorting out a scuffle.

His brows rose. "I allowed it." He replied simply. It was the truth;
he had pulled many of the blows he had struck, though Ma'din hadn't
realized. The final kick had startled him, but he now looked on that
with amusement rather than chagrin.

Her chin pulled in and her brows tucked together. That was completely
unlike D'hol. Moreover, he'd come an apologized to her and then this?
"Are you going to tell me what's really going on here D'hol?" She
asked the question gently partly because she was a little afraid of
the answer.

His brow arched but he chose his words carefully. " I needed to speak
with him." He paused, wondering how to put the words together
adequately. "Ma'din is angry, Cyradis. He's much like myself when I
was younger, but with far less control. The only way that I could
speak to him and he absorb it, is to let his anger lose on its
target." He gestured to himself. "Once he got that out of the way, we
parted on decent terms. Not the best, I admit, but better than we
began. I've made mistakes, Cyradis. I'm trying to put them to rights."
A small, self-mocking smile flicked over his mouth.

She took a deep breath. "Alright," she gave a sad nod. He'd come to
her and now his son this whole thing stunk like boiling fellis. But
she recognized when she could and when she couldn't move him. "Please
let me know before you involve our daughter in whatever this is," she
said seriously. She turned to leave the room but turned back at the
door. "And no more fighting."

"Actually..." His voice trailed off and he actually managed to look
contrite. "Ma'din is asking to see her again. With an oath on his
brown that he won't take her out of the Weyr without your consent. I
did tell him that he would have to discuss it with you first,
Cyradis."

She turned to look at him with her arms crossed. "Well, we'll just see
if he has the balls to ask come talk to me. Nicely."

Last updated on the February 28th 2019

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Something Stinks