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 Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 9:44 pm
Marko woke to a splitting headache.
This, in and of itself, wasn't always an odd thing. Marko worried himself into tension headaches frequently enough that he couldn't always sleep them off. But this headache, this was not a tension headache. This was a pounding headache that took over his entire skull and made him want to die. And that was extremely out of the ordinary. Whatever else Marko was, he was neither depressed nor unhappy, and at the moment, he would have liked nothing better than to pull his pillow over his head and never wake up again.
"By the Golden egg of Faranth," he murmured, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand and sitting up. Had he caught a late strain of the flu going around? It didn't feel as bad as that; his head hurt and he was drained, but no real stomach pain, no severe muscle aches. No, he was fairly certain this was something different. But what? Running a hand through his hair and reaching out to the shelf beside his hammock (Istans slept in hammocks...Marko still couldn't get over that) for a brush, his hand touched something he didn't recognize.
...huh.
Frowning, he leaned out of the hammock to look at whatever it was, and then yelled in alarm and fell straight out of the hammock and in a heap on the floor. Scrambling to his feet and bracing himself against a sudden wave of vertigo, he peered into the jar that had appeared on the shelf. It contained a small, nondescript white egg. A sudden flood of vague, confusing memories reared its ugly head, and Marko resisted the urge to slam his head into the wall.
"...shards and shells." he swore. Xeran had come to his room last night and asked him to go out for drinks, and Marko hadn't been able to say no and...shardit, he knew he couldn't hold his liquor.
He needed to find Xeran. Pulling on clothes that may or may not have been clean and twisting his hair into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, he picked up the jar and stomped down the hall to the room Xeran shared with Vera. Jerking open the door with no regard for privacy, he strode straight into Xeran's half of the room.
"What the shells happened last night?" he demanded.
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 10:18 pm
Xeran was not a man who rose up bright and early. The Harper was more of the type to ooze out of bed when the morning’s shine had juuust about worn off. The early avian might catch the grub, but he didn’t see that as much of an incentive. Why not just tell them what the afternoon avian caught, eh? Besides, it had been a rather fun night out with Marko, which made Xeran even more inclined to sleep in. That is, right until his sleeptime had been so cruelly denied by a neurotic Harper by the name of Marko.
The younger man blinked and yawned up at Marko. Brazenly, Xeran looked the other man up and down before looking down at himself. Taking a moment, he peered under his blanket. There were certain details that needed to be checked out, after all. No sense in rushing to conclusions… once he was satisfied with the results, he said, “Clearly nothing fun. ‘Ve still got my smallclothes on and everything.”
Nothing else though, he noted vaguely, which meant he had to get some real clothes on. The thought of sending Marko out didn’t even enter his mind. It wasn’t like he had anything that Marko had never seen before, right? Climbing out of the hammock, Xeran poked around until he managed to find his pants and pull them on. “So, what’s with all the yelling?” he asked conversationally, not at all ashamed of… well… anything. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of.
Hmm… what HAD happened last night? Slowly, Xeran’s pain synapses crawled back from whatever gutter they had been resting in and assaulted his brain. There weren’t really words for a good hangover except for ‘painful’. Xeran’s personal favorite description was ‘it felt like his teeth had melted and were now coating the back of his throat’. He sat down on the hammock again and tried to remember what had happened the night before. He very clearly remembered getting Marko out for a night of fun and… and that was about it. Some other foggy memories danced in the mist, but that wasn’t saying much.
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 6:11 pm
Marko was not expecting Xeran's casual reaction to his outburst. In fact, the words that Xeran actually spoke made him blush. Shards, he hadn't even thought of that! Thank Faranth that nothing of that nature hadn't happened. (...Well, actually, perhaps he should be cursing over it. At this point, alcohol was basically his only chance with Xeran.) "...that still doesn't explain much," he managed after a moment. And then the small amount of his brain that was operating in spite of the hangover shut down completely.
Marko managed not to change his expression as Xeran dressed, but he didn't precisely look away, either, and it wasn't until Xeran had finally put on pants that he scrubbed at his eyes again. "I...woke up this morning, I have a pounding headache, and this was on my shelf." He held up the jar, angling it so Xeran could see its contents. The jar itself was still faintly warm, but Marko suspected that he'd have to find someplace warmer to keep it in the very near future.
"I distinctly remember you cajoling me into going drinking last night...and that's just about the only distinct memory I have," he said. "So clearly there is a great deal of space between shortly after sunset yesterday and...what time is it, anyway? Midday? Nearly so?" Far too late. Marko was not a late sleeper, except (apparently) when he was hungover.
"Whatever time it is," he went on, "I have no idea what happened, except that I woke up to an egg." At least it wasn't a woman or something similarly stupid, like a Candidate or somesuch idiocy. "Shards...you're better at this than I am, do you know any hangover remedies?" He groaned quietly. He hadn't drunk more than a single cup of watered-down wine with dinner in over a decade. Getting drunk had been an awful idea. And he didn't even do anything worthwhile when he was drunk.
Shells!
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 6:48 pm
Someone had to consider such things. Xeran personally thought that Marko would have to calm down for a good half hour before he would get any sexing at all, so clearly such considerations were all up to the younger Harper. Actually, offering to take Marko out for drinks had been his way of trying to get the man to relax. Clearly it hadn’t worked that well, which was very nearly a pity.
Once he was fully dressed, Xeran peered into the jar and poked at the sand. “Well, it looks like a firelizard egg. You know, round, sort of smooth and of a very definite ‘lizard like thing.” And this was his professional opinion as a Harper, of course. Now how Marko had gotten such a thing, that was a bit more difficult… Xeran scratched his head a little before poking at the egg once more, as if this would cause it to reveal all of its secrets. The only thing it really revealed was that the sand was warm.
“Oh, yeah! I know a really good hangover remedy!” he said, brightening considerably now that he could be useful. Now, if Xeran was a cruel man, he would have considered sex just to see Marko’s face explode. But, alas… he felt like he had to be the gentleman for now. Besides, his head was pretty close to splitting itself in half, a fact that would rather impede his future activities. “Right. To get a hangover cure, you go and visit the new gay Healer in the Infirmary.”
…
In other words, his ‘brilliant cure’ was to go to the Healer and see what he had for it. “It works every time,” Xeran said proudly. “As for how you got an egg… I dunno? I assume it wasn’t stolen or something. And I’m pretty certain we didn’t go swimming or anything on the beach since your hair isn’t wet. Gambling maybe?”
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 7:30 pm
Relaxing Marko was most likely an impossible task. Particularly when he was distressed, in pain, and completely unable to remember anything specific about his past night's activities.
Oh, and in possession of a firelizard egg.
"SHELLS!" he snapped when Xeran spoke, wincing at the volume of his own voice and dropping it for his next comment. "What am I supposed to do with it?" Now, he knew the actual things one was supposed to do with a firelizard egg; once upon a time he had been just as infatuated with the little things as everyone else. Nowadays...not so much. "I should pawn it off to a Candidate," he muttered, looking with distaste at the jar as Xeran poked around in it. He'd have to do something with it. No way he was keeping the egg for himself. He wanted nothing to do with anything draconic.
He'd stress over that when he could think without feeling like his head was being beaten in with a mallet. "...What new gay Healer?" he asked, rather dumbly, before thinking back to his visits to Vera and attempts to get Xeran out of the Infirmary for longer than a few minutes. But...he couldn't seem to think beyond the fact that Xeran had been a terror to cajole away from Vera's side.
"I'm not going in there for a hangover cure without you as evidence to why I need it," he remarked with a scowl. Marko was, in essence, a teetotaler. He didn't need that reputation ruined without good reason. Xeran was a good reason. If someone like Xeran asked you to do something, you did it. Gladly.
....Oh Faranth, really? Drinking and gambling? Marko wasn't one to pass up an opportunity for dragonpoker, but he would have played for marks or fun, not a flitt egg. If things had been going well enough, Marko would even have purposefully lost to avoid a flitt egg. "If gambling's the case, the drinking impairs my judgment, but not my skill at cards," he said almost absently, scowling at the egg again.
"Come on," he said after a moment. "Infirmary. My head is killing me."
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 8:35 pm
Ah, what dulcet tones, like the very sound of an icicle running through his brain. Xeran winced at the sudden volume and sent a mild glare at Marko. “I believe people normally hatch eggs,” he rumbled, with only a hint of peevishness in his voice. “And keep little firelizards as pets. You know, small companions to have throughout life and such. Vera has one. She’s named him Bell.”
Marko, of course, knew all this. He must have… but, being woken up ‘early’ with a headache made Xeran feel slightly passive-aggressive. Anyway, onto gayer subjects, or at least ones that were happier. “Right. You know, new dragonhealer, although he spends a lot of time patching up people. About this tall, light brown hair, light eyes? You must’ve seen him while Vera was sick.”
Or maybe not… Xeran had felt pretty angry with Marko at the time and had gotten into the habit of blaming all of Vera’s injuries on the man. Xeran felt a pang of regret at that now, since it wasn’t really the other Harper’s fault. Besides, considering the maulings that had followed it was a good thing he had gotten Marko off the Hatching Grounds fast enough. Well, it was time for them to get down to the Infirmary anyway.
~.~
The first thing Xeran noticed upon entering the Infirmary was a palpable temperature drop. The source of the sudden cooling seemed to be from Cordel, who did not look amused at all. Xeran tried his very best charming smile, which only caused another Ice Age from the Healer.
“What do you want?” The Healer eventually asked, looking more and more annoyed all the time. And, considering that Xeran figured annoyance was his ground state of being, that took some talent. “I already threw you both out of here last night and I do not want another performance.”
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 9:30 pm
Oh Faranth...
They had been here last night? What had they done? What did Cordel mean, 'performance'? Marko, who had left the flitt in Xeran's room in the hope that he could somehow pawn it off to the other man, rubbed his temples and tried to remember what had gone on last night. Shards, he honestly had no idea. He seemed to vaguely recall something about hangover cures (had they been thinking ahead?) and beyond that, nothing. He did, however, notice the sheer force of angry Cordel was exuding.
"Um...whatever happened last night, I apologize wholeheartedly..." he began slowly. "I was, um, wondering about hangover cures." Which basically explained it all. He hoped.
---
Her arms full of fresh herbs, Lanakirene strode into the infirmary whistling. After a moment, realization dawned that Cordel was giving someone the full force of his icy death glare, and she stopped to investigate the scene before her. Her lips twitched and she made a soft choking noise before ducking around behind Xeran. "I'll be bundling these to dry in the back if you need me, Sir," she said, her tone strangled. And with that, she dashed into the storeroom that doubled as Cordel's office and her study when she wasn't doing practical healer work.
Even with the door closed, the fact that she burst out laughing was completely apparent.
---
Now Marko was beginning to get worried. Clearly, something had happened. "Um...actually...before I apologize for it, is there any chance that you could fill us in on what actually did happen last night?" he requested tentatively, doing everything he could to make himself appear smaller. It didn't really work.
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 9:58 pm
Oh shards. Xeran’s usual methods for dealing with angry men wouldn’t work here. Well, some of them wouldn’t work, he amended, for reasons of public decency and just moral issues. He supposed he could always just pick Cordel up until he stopped being angry, but he was fairly certain that would only result in a certain amount of explosions. It really was amazing, the amount of angry that one person could produce.
“Uh. Yeah. What he said,” he said rather helplessly, trying to hide behind Marko for once. It wasn’t often that Xeran tried to hide from anything, but he was certain-----almost completely certain-----that he had done something very, very wrong last night. Judging by the sheer amount of laughter from the Apprentice, it would have been worth remembering. Alright, so it was less of a feeling of ‘worry’ and more like, ‘shards, it must’ve been great! Wish I could remember’ sort of thing.
Still, if Cordel did explode, Xeran wanted someone else to receive most of the blast force.
~.~
The temperature went down by several degrees as La appeared and disappeared. It went down further when Marko asked his very ill-advised question. Cordel swiveled his glare on the taller man, since it wasn’t having the desired effect on Xeran. For one thing, he was still alive.
“You don’t remember? I suppose that’s not too surprising… you were both sharding drunk. So drunk, in fact, that it would’ve been a miracle if either of you had managed to hit the floor. It’s a marvel that you two didn’t burst into flame after wandering into the kitchens!”
Oh, no. Cordel was not happy. Judging by the sheer icy death glare, it was Xeran he was most upset with. “And YOU! Tell me, do you just wake up and decide to do something stupid or do you have to work at it? It is some sort of miracle of Healing that either of you is alive at all. Just walking across the room must be a miracle of the mind!”
~.~
This continued one for some vein, and Xeran patiently waited. He was, by nature, a very patient sort. When Cordel was finally finished he asked, once again, “What happened? I think we ought to know what we’re being yelled at for.”
~.~
Cordel tried the glare. Unfortunately, Xeran STILL wasn’t bursting into flame from sheer shame. “You asked me about my personal relationship with Brownrider K’em,” he said tersely, still very clearly upset about this. “In particular, you asked, in front of my Apprentice, who exactly is on top.”
One day, he told himself, he’d have to figure out why everyone thought he was gay. And apparently in a relationship with K’em, of all people!
~.~
Xeran considered this very carefully for some time, looking very thoughtful. He could see that the Healer was extremely upset and would have to choose his words carefully. “So… did you ever answer?”
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Posted: Fri Jul 10, 2009 6:40 pm
The anger was more or less tangible. Marko, who tended to avoid situations where anyone was going to get that angry, shifted uncomfortably as Cordel continued to glare at them. He grew even more uncomfortable as he realized that Xeran was attempting to hide behind him. Trying his hardest to be inconspicuous, he shuffled slightly out of the way. After all, it must been Xeran causing the problems, not himself. Even drunk, Marko was too paranoid to cause trouble.
He hoped.
And then Cordel shed some light on the situation. Well, clearly they had been drunk. Marko's headache and the fact that he had no memory of the previous night was plenty of testimony in that respect. But the rest of it...oh Faranth, Xeran, why? The question...he known Xeran long enough to have seen the man pull similar 'Are you gay?' episodes with just about anyone in a position of power whenever he could get away with it. But this time, the question was between them and a hangover remedy.
Annnnnnd...yep. There went the remedy, out the window. Forgetting his headache for an instant, Marko thumped his palm against his forehead with a surprisingly loud 'clap' and a suppressed yelp as he realized that impact with his skull was a Bad Idea. "Xeran," he said through gritted teeth, "this is a sharding stupid thing to do to the man who stands between us and hangover cures." Dropping his hand after a moment, he looked at Cordel and contrived to look as apologetic as possible.
Which was pretty damn apologetic. Marko had been looking that way for decades, and he had more or less perfected the 'I'm pathetic, please take pity on me' look. "We're both incredibly sorry," he said, pausing only the briefest of seconds when he realized he had no idea of the Healer's name. "Both Xeran and I completely regret what we did." Here, he would have shot Xeran a 'or at least, we will soon' look if he could have followed through on the threat. "We were very drunk, and very stupid."
"Is there any chance that you can help with the after-affects of the drunkenness? I know there's no chance to fix the stupid."
---
Oh, Cordel was never going to cave. And it wasn't right to leave the poor men hungover and distraught (well..one of them. The other was giving her master a hard time, and as much as she adored Cordel, La couldn't quite bring herself to resent Xeran for it. The evening had been hilarious.) Sighing to herself, La shook her head and fussed about in the jars. Cordel didn't need to know how well-versed the girl was in hangover remedies. Let him think that she was just addressing symptoms.
Willow...no, lemon grass...hmm. Willow and peppermint would address the main bulk of hangover, as would lemon grass. Shrugging, she made a quick decision and made up two small packets of powdered lemon grass. Then, composed and sweet-natured once again, she stepped out into the infirmary and went to stand behind Cordel.
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Posted: Sun Jul 12, 2009 7:01 pm
Oh, wow! Xeran watched in morbid fascination, as he had never seen someone’s eye twitch quite like that before. He considered pointing this out, but decided not to, mostly because Marko pointed out the supreme stupidity of pissing off the only man who could give them a hangover cure. Well, not the only one… there were other Healers. But it probably was a bad idea to leave on such a bad note.
Idly, he wondered where K’em was. Perhaps Cordel was all pissy because he hadn’t seen his lover lately. The Healer did look a little stressed and if he had been on duty last night too… weeeeelll… that sort of thing could cut down on certain activities, couldn’t it? The look he turned on Cordel could only be described as pity.
~.~
Luckily, Cordel thought it was merely Xeran’s attempt at looking sorry. And, even more luckily, Marko had enough apology for twenty men. That was probably the only thing that kept both men alive right now, or at least kept safe from severe shaming. Marko’s last comment also helped soothe his ruffled feathers just a little, although he kept glaring at Xeran, just waiting for the Harper to do or say something.
And it wasn’t like the Healer himself had never woken up with a feeling like someone had opened up his skull and jammed a dead wherry in there for good measure. “Stay here,” he warned. “And don’t touch anything! Especially you.” He threw another glare at the shorter Harper, just for good measure and turned around.
It would have been a very dramatic exit, except La was in the way, so it turned into more of a dramatic bump and some flustering on Cordel’s part, or at least some rustled feathers. With a glare that plainly said, ‘no one speak of this ever again’, he went into the herb room, determined to take as long as possible to make his selections.
~.~
Meanwhile, Xeran just tried not to laugh. It was a minor miracle that he managed to turn his chuckle into a cough. “Is he like that all the time?” he asked La eventually, since he figured she ought to know. She was the Apprentice, right? Right.
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Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2009 9:51 pm
Marko stood silently and watched Cordel with the sort of morbid fascination he reserved for Hatchings and the moments when his visits to Sunshine coincided with walking past the herdbeast pens as dragons were feeding. He got the distinct feeling that if Cordel didn't strangle someone right off the bat, the entire infirmary was going to be made miserable for the rest of the day. He wondered briefly if perhaps Cordel really was gay, and then dismissed it.
Xeran just...made people angry sometimes. Particularly people with short fuses, and he could just see Cordel's sizzling away to the very...oof. Marko winced as Cordel ran into his Apprentice, and then locked his hands behind his back and looked pointedly at the ceiling until he heard the door slam. Then he glanced at Xeran, at Lanakirene, who was looking slightly shell-shocked, and back to Xeran.
"You just keep digging the sharding grave, Xeran."
---
"Mostly, I think it happens when he's stressed and people make it worse," La answered with a slight shrug. "And...I don't think I want to be either of you right now." She winced slightly, then pushed the small cloth packets she had made up into Marko's hands. "I'd suggest you take these and get out. This is just lemon grass, nothing fancy. Infuse it in hot water, and it should take care of the worst of the symptoms," she said simply. All in all, it would be better if she dealt with them.
At this point, she wouldn't put it past Cordel to offer the pair a concoction that contained linseed oil, or possibly aloe. It would be cruel, but effective and fairly harmless. He was certainly angry enough for something like that. La bit back a sigh.
"And then drink more water. Try to rehydrate yourselves."
---
Marko looked slightly suspiciously at the two packets, but a careful sniff informed him that it was indeed the ingredient La implied. Lemon grass was a kitchen ingredient as well as infirmary, and Marko was vaguely glad that the remedy was something familiar. Nodding, he took Xeran's arm with his free hand. "Come on," he said quietly. "Looks like we're off to the kitchens."
He was happy enough about that, even if the kitchens weren't always happy to see him. And at this point, he wasn't about to give Xeran a chance to hang around and re-infuriate Cordel. It was in everyone's best interest if they got out as soon as possible.
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Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2009 10:36 pm
Xeran turned his very best wounded puppy dog look on Marko, complete with big innocent eyes. “What? It was just a question,” he rumbled, as if going up and asking about someone’s sex life was totally alright. Come on, it was a Weyr! People weren’t supposed to be uptight about such things in Weyrs. Harper Hall was pretty open and accepting of everyone and a Weyr, Xeran figured, would be even more so. “And it’s not my fault he nearly trampled his own Apprentice. That’s his fault for not paying more attention…”
Right now, the dark-haired Harper would have liked to be just about anyone else, preferably someone without a raging head-ache. Or at least someone who didn’t have to deal with a pissy Healer. He gave La a grateful grin and just barely resisted the urge to ruffle her hair. “Thanks. We owe you one.”
He wasn’t sure what ‘one’ really was referring to, of course, but he would let La imagine what that could be. The two Harpers scurried off quickly, Xeran only too happy to avoid angrifying Cordel even more.
~.~
Meanwhile, Cordel contemplated the best laxative. Linseed oil was the best, of course, but he’d rather save that for the dragons… although… he briefly brushed by the bottle, contemplating a bit of revenge. Unfortunately, his morality caught up with him, reminding him that, as a Healer, he was not allowed to cause harm. Besides, that sort of thing would only cause a horrible lack of vitamins, which would only exacerbate the hangover.
Sometimes, it really sucked to be the moral one in a group. Still, no one said he had to be quick about his selections.
In the end, he put together a small mix of lemongrass, mint, and a touch of willow, just to make sure. Unfortunately, by the time he got this together, the Harpers had already left. His eye visibly twitched. Clearly, this was not improving his mood at all… the Healer disappeared into his room again, with a definite air of a temper tantrum.
~.~
“The kitchen?” Xeran asked. He had already put the Cordel situation behind him, but he remembered the man saying something important about the kitchen. Something about burning. “…Did we set the kitchen on fire last night?” he inquired, deciding that this was as good a place as any to start.
On second thought, he realized, this sort of suggestion was exactly the thing that would send Marko off into a tizzy. Covering his face with one hand, he vaguely wondered how this friendship had started at all. Oh. Right. Because Marko blushed very nicely and there was just something oddly adorable about someone so nervous about everything.
“Do you remember anything about the kitchens last night?” he pressed again.
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2009 12:34 am
Marko was thrilled to finally escape the infirmary, or possibly just Cordel...and the fact that they had managed to escape with all their body parts and a hangover remedy was, well, shocking. But Marko wasn't going to naysay it. In fact, he would have been perfectly willing to keep walking down to the kitchens for hot water and something sweet, except that Xeran knocked some sense into his head.
.....fire?
"I would remember fire," he said doubtfully. Unless being drunk gave you literally an entirely different personality. Marko's fear of fire probably couldn't be overcome by all the wine in Benden. ...And even if he had been that drunk, Marko was fairly certain that fire would still be memorable. He shuddered at the thought, clenching his fists spasmodically and forcing himself to think back instead of dwell on thoughts of fire. "Um..." he said. "I remember going there. Don't remember why. And I think I might remember..."
...Nope. "...I'm not sure."
---
The first thing that greeted the men was the clang of a heavy pot hitting the floor. The second was significantly less pleasant. "Oh, come back for more, have we?! Tell me, last night wasn't enough for you so now you've decided to return and make the kitchens a living nightmare again? Out! Out right now!"
It was rare that so many words escaped Mirelle all at once, but she was furious with the two men. The dishes she had been doing forgotten, the woman advanced on the pair of harpers, brandishing a long scouring brush in one hand and a cloth in the other, her face set in a deadly scowl. "At least you have the decency to put clothes on this time!" She barked out a sardonic laugh and strode up to Xeran, unintimidated by his height and sheer presence.
"You aren't welcome in the kitchens!" she snapped. The glare turned to Marko, who attempted to hide behind Xeran, and her face set even more firmly. "Either of you!"
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Posted: Tue Jul 14, 2009 12:56 pm
If a tree falls in a forest when no one is around, does it really make a sound? If there aren’t any patients, would a Healer calm down and relax or simply panic more? And, most importantly, if three people get into a very interesting confrontation and no one is there to see it, does it really happen? Well, that last question was one that Elae didn’t want to get into! The moment that Xeran and Marko peeked into the kitchen, the girl had stopped peeling tubers and oh-so-carefully adjusted her chair so she would have a good view of the upcoming drama.
Or, more specifically, she carefully moved her chair so she could look into a highly reflective pan that would show the impending doom of the Harpers. She very nearly dropped her tuber at Mirelle’s words. Naked?! And Elae had missed it?! Ohh… well, maybe there would be a repeat performance after all! She could always hope…
~.~
Shards, wasn’t there anyone important that they hadn’t annoyed? Xeran was torn between being impressed with himself and distressed with the same. At the moment, he was more upset with all the yelling, since it really was starting to bother his headache. Maybe they really had set the kitchen on fire… what else could make this woman so angry?
Wait, what? Once again, Xeran focused immediately on the important thing. “Naked? Wait…” he glanced over his shoulder at Marko, surveying him carefully. Then he looked back at Mirelle and asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Marko was naked? And I can’t remember it?”
Well, that was a pity!
Then again, the Harper supposed he ought to focus on other things right now, like how to keep this woman from disemboweling him and Marko with a spoon.
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Posted: Wed Jul 15, 2009 10:04 pm
Naked? “Naked?!” Marko asked, sounding incredibly distressed. “Nobody said anything about naked! I wasn’t naked!” Shaking his head vigorously but not moving from his position of safety behind the tall Harper, Marko looked nervously at Mirelle. He would remember being naked, wouldn’t he? And did that mean that everyone had seen his scars? Oh shards, he just had to hope that none of those Candidates had seen, although Nandeli wasn’t a Candidate now…
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught someone moving and peered over at them. Candidate. Female. And he immediately thought the worst. Shards, this wasn’t going to end well.
---
“What? Him?” Mirelle glanced at Marko appraisingly, then threw her head back and laughed. She fancied she knew the tall Harper well enough to be fully aware that he would be hard-pressed get naked even in the heat of passion. Then her expression went straight back to serious and she glowered up at Xeran. “No. He lost a tunic somewhere in the process, nothing else. You were the one without clothing.”
“You come into my kitchens half-dressed, drunk as Candidates after their first Hatching feast, and proceed to muck about with things you shouldn’t touch, and don’t sharding leave! You, reeking of alcohol and getting your filth all through the kitchens,” she had shifted her attention between both men for the beginning of the newest bout of ranting, but her gaze snapped back to Xeran. “Shards and shells, I swear if I ever catch you in here like that again, I will skin you and serve you to the riders. And they will find it delicious.”
“And you.” She rounded on Marko, eyes fiercer than any Queen dragon. “Panting after him like dragonriders during a Flight. Have you no decency? At least to keep it out of the kitchens? And stealing food!”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. When she spoke again, it would be without the slight edge of hysteria in her voice.
---
Marko looked like he might have wanted to cry.
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