Headfirst Into a Bottle

Writers: Devin, Bree
Date Posted: 28th July 2006

Characters: Kenza, N'vanik
Description: Kenza shows up at N'vanik's weyr with alcohol and ends up drinking a little too much.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 13, day 6 of Turn 3

N'vanik

Kenza thumped her fist against N'vanik's door hard enough to rattle it, wanting to give him no excuse to claim he hadn't heard her. Last time she'd come to find him drinking himself silly, she'd done her best to stop him.

This time she had the alcohol and had every intention of joining him.

"_What_?" N'vanik asked as he flung the door open. She shoved the bottle at his chest and walked past him without a word, trusting he'd appreciate just how drunk she planned on getting by the label on the bottle. He looked down at the bottle, an eyebrow lifting. "I thought this stuff was too strong for you?" Turning, he closed the door.

"Didn't used to be," she replied shortly, dropping into a seat and propping her feet up. "Let's see if I can remember how to drink it, hmmm?"

N'vanik's eyebrow went up even farther as he sat down across from her. "What could possibly have happened for you to show up at my weyr with the intention of getting drunk?"

"Are you going to go tell on me?" she asked darkly, leaning forward to snatch the bottle back out of his hands. He snorted. "Why would I do that?"

"To be an arse?" she retorted, pulling the top out of the bottle. The fumes reminded her of a time when she'd spent more time visiting the Vintner Hall than the Baker Hall... a time that she'd promised herself she wouldn't revisit. Then she'd gone down to visit Talryne and forced herself to meet those blank, empty eyes. Drinking had seemed like a great idea after that.

"Ok, good reason." He gave her a brief smile. "But I won't."

"How kind," she replied, screwing up her face and taking a long enough swig from the bottle to make her face burn. "There are plenty of people who would shake their fingers at me for this," she muttered before taking another smaller sip. Luckily, none of those people were likely to go looking for her in N'vanik's weyr.

"Well, I'm not one of them." He held his hand out for the bottle.

She took one last drink before handing it over. "That's nice of you."

N'vanik took a swallow, feeling the alcohol burn down his throat. Good stuff. "I seem to remember you shaking your finger at me for drinking, though."

"You were drinking alone," Kenza replied easily, slouching down on the couch. "Besides, I'm older than you. You should listen to your elders and not question them when they're acting hypocritical." She gave N'vanik what she hoped was a stern look. He'd chosen a fine time to start wanting to talk. He snorted. "Oh, yes. You're so much older. You're what -- ten turns older than me?"

Kenza rolled her eyes and rescued her bottle. "You're lucky your face is so pretty, boy. Didn't anyone teach you to always underestimate a woman's age by at _least_ five turns?"

"Never was very good at the whole 'tact' thing." He grinned.

It was her turn to snort. "Oh, really? You don't say." But under her teasing tone there was a tightness, acknowledgement of something that she was willing to dive headfirst into a bottle to forget. And since the alcohol wasn't working quickly enough, she took another swig. N'vanik studied her for a moment. "Alright, Kenza. Talk. What is it?"

She glared at him. "I thought you were going to drink with me, not talk to me." Shards, who would have imagined N'vanik of all people wanting her to share her feelings.

The grin returned. "Oooooh, touchy! See, that just makes me more interested to find out what's bothering you."

Kenza thrust the bottle back at him, rolling her eyes. "You want stories of death and misery? How about another chance to oggle my threadscore?"

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it that bad . . ." he shrugged and took another drink.

The pain from her threadscore had long since faded, but her hand drifted down to her side as if she could still feel it aching. Her fingers could _feel_ the sharp ridges through her tunic and undershirt, and she could remember in terrifying detail the day on which she'd gotten them. "Does anyone really want to talk about the first Fall?"

"I do. Sometimes," N'vanik said quietly. "Really?" Kenza snorted, closing her eyes. "You sure you were there?"

"Not _the_ first Fall, but the first Fall I was in," he clarified. "The first time I saw Thread, there was this . . . click . . . and it was like I knew what I was meant to do."

Kenza shuddered and leaned in to retrieve the bottle. "I almost died. Some of my friends did die. My lover lost his dragon and spent the next two months trying to act like he was still alive. It was the most terrible day I've ever seen, and I don't like remembering it unless I'm too drunk to remember it clearly."

"Of course it was horrible. I know it was." Her mention of someone losing their dragon hit close to home. "Have you see Talryne?" N'vanik asked quietly.

She fortified herself with a healthy drink before meeting his eyes. "Yes."

"How is she?"

There wasn't enough alcohol in the bottle to numb the feeling of terror Kenza felt whenever she looked into the eyes of a rider who had lost their dragon. "She's... still alive. That's amazing enough." And tragic, in some ways. T'lash had clung to life for two endless months, claiming that taking care of her was worth living for. It hadn't been enough in the long run.
Nothing had been.

N'vanik stood and went to his cabinet, figuring he would need his own bottle. "I don't know if I wish she'd stay, or go . . ." He sighed. "Did anyone tell you about my involvement?"

"Involvement?" Kenza's eyes followed him as he pulled out another bottle, though her face was starting to feel a little warm. The problem with drinking the strong stuff was how quickly it took affect.

"That clump was headed for me." N'vanik opened the bottle and took a drink.
"When I got out of the way, it got her instead."

Tact was quickly deserting her. "So? That doesn't make it your fault."

"You and U'kaiah and whoever else can sing that tune if you want to, but that doesn't change anything." He took another drink, wondering if it was wise to start drinking. He might not stop.

She slammed the bottle down on the table and glared at him. "Stop whining you insufferable little brat. You don't get to feel bad. _Talryne_ gets to feel bad. The rest of us don't have the right." "I know that!" he yelled back. "It just makes me feel _worse_! Why should I feel bad? What am I _crying_ for? Loseth is still here--" The bronze gave a loud affirmation of that. "It's not your fault," she repeated in a low, steady voice. "It happens, N'vanik. It happens over and over again and it is _never_ going to stop, and the only person you can save out there is yourself. It's not _your_ job to keep the wing safe." It was hers. J'nus and S'rak more, maybe... but enough hers. And she felt every sharding loss.

Another swallow of alcohol. "I know it happens. I've seen plenty of people get hurt, and die. It usually doesn't bother me so much. But then there was V'surin, and now Ysanth, and Talryne could still follow." N'vanik leaned back in his chair, bottle in hand. "I feel . . . responsible for them."

"Well, you can't be." She reached out to take his bottle from his hands and set it down. Then she caught his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. "You can't be. And I will kick your sorry arse across this weyr if you don't listen to me. I am drunk enough to do it." There were very few people that could touch him like that without provoking a violent reaction. Kenza happened to be one of them. N'vanik shrugged. "Go ahead. It might make you feel better. Shards, it might make us _both_ feel better."

Releasing his face, she snorted loudly. "Well, I'm not going to do it if you're going to like it. Might make it more fun, but it sort of defeats the purpose." N'vanik arched an eyebrow. "Maybe if I punch you first. . ."

She grinned at him. "Don't get too excited about the idea. I know it's every man's dream to get sweaty and mildly violent with me, but I swore off getting into drunken brawls. And other drunken... things." Though at the rate she was forgetting words, she was likely to not remember what she'd sworn off. She'd gulped down too much liquor too fast, and now it was giving the world a fuzzy sort of look.

N'vanik found himself smiling. "And here I would have thought you could hold your liquor."

"Shut up," she replied in an annoyed mutter. As an after thought she added, "But if it comes back up, I'm aiming at you." Besides, this was the first drink she'd had in nearly two turns. And it would be the last. Or at least, one of the last. Probably.

"Thanks for the warning. If you look sick, I'll run away. Far away." N'vanik retrieved his bottle and took another drink, although it was a smaller swallow this time.

"Mmmm." Though at the rate the liquor was working its way through her system, Kenza thought there was a far greater danger that she'd pass out.
Tension and lack of sleep were already making her eyelids so heavy she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Maybe she should close them for just a second, and relax a little before taking another drink...

Last updated on the July 28th 2006

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Headfirst Into a Bottle