|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 1:42 pm
It was strange the things some people remembered. Roka, for example remembered expressing a fear of aging once when she was youngster. She remembered shortly after being told adulthood was the 'best time of your life'. The strange thing was she couldn't remember who exactly had said it. That was a shame, because had she recalled, she'd have sent a runner with a letter advising them to never spread false information ever again.
Time had been good to Roka, she couldn't deny that. She felt good, and for what it mattered, looked good. But the best time of her life? Oh, no, sir. This was not her idea of fun. The dragon going between had been an ugly sight. She expected it, she'd knew it was going to happen, yet watching it was unsettling still. Before the first dragon had Impressed, Roka was already at work. Instead of watching the hatchlings make their decisions, Roka watched the people around them. And in the stands. When the tragedy happened--followed by another, a dud egg this time--she looked again. The horror of the situation was intensified knowing the eyes of children had witnessed it.
Roka did not want to shield the young. They would never learn that way. But... but some things needed to be learned slowly. Not like that.
Her arrival had not been especially quiet. Then again, was anyone's with gabby what's-her-name fluttering around the place? The volume of her presence hit an all time high after the hatching, when she put in the extra effort to spread the word. Many people did it for her. Roka made sure anyone caring for children knew to come to her with them before she took on any other clients. Poor little things. This was a lot to handle.
A few Weyrbrats had been in and out, bawling their eyes out when the topic came up or just shutting off completely. It was disheartening seeing a certain innocence in childhood swept away with one wink.
The room had a warm feeling to it that offered some comfort, if only a little. Just something about it gave the same vibe a home would. Maybe it was Roka actually lived in this very room? The funiture was arranged so that she could sit across from multiple people at once. She suspected she'd need to eventually. Some children knew their parents, or at least had guardians who would want to stay. Until that time, she'd sit contently and read. And not think about the silly blue or the unhatched one until she had to.
...Nice weather today.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 2:27 pm
Olyen was worried about her precious little Dolmin, and getting more worried by the day.
It hadn't meant much at first, when that nice brownrider had brought her boy home and he'd been sulkish. It must have been embarrassing for the child, after all, for his mother to have been so panicked that she'd sent a dragonrider to find her missing son after just one night. Upset as she had been when he'd come home, she'd tried to be understanding of his moodiness, and taken it easy on him - he wasn't to play with the other children or go to the kitchen girl's circle for a sevenday, and the next time there was a Hatching, he was going to come help her cut up meat for the new hatchlings. That was fair discipline! By her own mother's standards, she'd still be spoiling the boy!
But Dolmin had taken the punishment badly. He'd screamed and thrown a tantrum. He'd broken one of her favorite dishes during a tirade about what a horrible mother she was, and how unfair everything was, and when she'd despaired, briefly, at having such an ungrateful child, he'd snapped about how it wasn't his fault that his mother couldn't keep her legs closed for a dragonrider. Shocked by such language, she'd sent him to bed without any dinner. Dolmin promptly and dramatically accused her of not loving him, and parted by telling her that he wished she'd get trampled by one of her own herdbeasts one of these days.
Now, Olyen loved her son dearly. He was the only thing she had in this world, the only thing worth caring about. But to hear such words from him, to see him so obviously upset... it wasn't her fault, was it? Was this because she'd punished him? She tried so hard to be a good mother....
She'd woken early the next morning, eyes still red and sore from crying herself to sleep the night before, and roused Dolmin from his sleep as well. The two ate breakfast in a moody silence. Then she'd dressed him in his best clothes, taken him wordlessly by the hand, and brought him to the Mindhealer's room.
Mother and son cut quite the somber pair entering the room that day. The parent was exhausted, and had a desperate, haunted look in her eyes; the child was sulking and belligerent, clearly suspicious of this place where his mother had taken him. Olyen had to clear her throat before words could come out: "'Morning. Are you the mindhealer?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 3:48 pm
Roka placed the book down near a pile of three others. None had so much as a letter on their outer shell, and having no obvious variations (the same leather brown covers, the same size), it was bizarre she took the time to place them in a specific order rather than simply stacking them up. Each of the books did have differences beyond their contents if you had the eye to catch them. Details were never to escape Roka's watchful gaze. Welcoming the pair into her workplace (for lack of a better term), she couldn't have recalled a time she'd needed this attribute any less.
The poor mother looked positively exhausted. To assume anyone in the world was dense enough to overlook it was a low blow to mankind as far as Roka was concerned. She had the situation pinned before she confirmed her identity. Any half-wit would have. Her introductions tended to come in a set; a name and a handshake. This time, it was a name, and more of a comforting than welcoming gesture. When she took the other woman's hand, she gave it a pat or two instead. The voice was professional but the face was nothing if not sympathetic. "Yes, I'm Roka. Hello."
Roka knew she wasn't the only mindhealer on Pern. She also knew having more than one in the same place at the same time was asking for a very heated debate. Not everyone agreed with her methods, and she most certainly didn't concede to theirs. Someone had told her once children could sense if someone didn't like or trust them. This was a belief she held, too, so it was a blessing her patience and skills with them were not forged qualities. Being a child herself once, it was ever-so-bothersome to be talked down to. That's why she would never do it. (Nor did she want to think how long it had been since she was that child. The turns just flew by at her age. Woe to the mid-life crisis.)
"And hello to you," she greeted Dolmin, as politely as she had his mother. Sparing no attention to anything else, she focused on him for now, watching and listening for any shift in tone or expression. Coming in, he didn't seem to like or trust her. What a suspicious face for such a young thing. An experienced voice in the back of her head chimed in with a curious inquiry: Had the mother told the child where she was taking him? "Could I please get your name?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 12:12 pm
If the woman could have melted, she would have done it; right then and there, a puddle of relief on the floor, abdicating all responsibility. True, Roka hadn't really said anything yet that would give her such peace of mind - a short greeting, a few reassuring pats on the hand, and then the mindhealer had already honed in on the person who was really here to see her. But oh, Olyen didn't mind that, not one bit. In that brief moment, she was already thoroughly convinced that she'd come to the right place; this woman knew. This woman could help.
"Dolmin," the boy muttered after a few moments of distrust, his eyes briefly meeting Roka's in rebellious challenge before drifting loosely around the room again. There were a lot of books here. A LOT. Was this woman an archivist? Maybe his mother had brought him here to work, in punishment for his misbehavior. Like that would teach him a lesson - he'd be able to sneak off within the candlemark, he'd bet!
"'E's my son," Olyen filled in for the wandering-eyed boy, "and hasn't got a father, but we get along fine most days, just me and him. He ran off during Hatching, though, and was gone for a day. I had t'get a brownrider just to find him and bring him home! That was a few days ago, a'course, but it's been nothing but shouting and breaking things since he got back. I told him, no playing, no gossip in the kitchen for a sevenday. He disappears for a whole day while I'm busy working, and that's all I do, and then he...." The woman's voice quavered, then silenced. She was at the end of her rope. She didn't know how to handle Dolmin. The Herdcrafter was trying, she really was, to give him the support and love and discipline he needed, but then when he fought back against her like this, she just... didn't know what to do....
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 1:08 pm
Multitasking was a skill possessed by many. Among those numbers was Roka, who had no problem listening to the mother while watching the son. Her eyes did drift off to follow his gaze, intent on finding what exactly he was looking at. Not that there was too much in the room that would be of interest to a child. At least, not out in the open. Books, furniture, paintings. The first of the list is what he appeared to be leering at.
"I see," was only said Roka to the mother. It wasn't that she was trying to isolate the woman from the matter, she had just always been in the opinion speaking to the parent when the child was your patient was on the counterproductive side. If she was supposed to help the child, it was important she establish the best bond possible right away. At the same time, she needed to be recognized as enough of an authority figure to keep any youngin' from thinking it was okay to walk on her.
A challenging task to which there was no right or wrong, but Roka always gave it her best.
"Well, Dolmin, my name is Roka. I'm the best secret keeper in the Weyr, so if you have anything you don't want to tell anyone else, you can tell me and I won't tell another person no matter what. But if you don't, that's alright, too. You're just here to talk to me; we won't be working." Roka stepped away from them and drifted to her desk, only to return with a box of pastries. Lid open, she offered one to Olyen, and then to Dolmin, leaning down just enough to be face-to-face with him. "Would you like one of these, Dolmin? I heard they're the best this Weyr can make. You can have any kind you'd like."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 6:36 pm
Olyen declined the offering with a grateful smile and shake of her head; she'd just eaten breakfast, after all, and wasn't the least bit hungry.
Dolmin, quite the opposite, pulled his hand free of his mother's grip in order to seize one of the pastries greedily from the box, biting into it straight away. Olyen cast a stern look toward him to remind him of his manners. He nearly flinched, pretending not to notice until a few seconds later, when he spoke up as if on his own recognizance to mumble a crumby "thanks" through his mouthful.
Freed of the tether of his mother's grip, Dolmin began to wander around the room. The pastry kept his hands too busy to actually touch anything, but he was clearly interested in exploring the knick-knacks of the room. "What sorts of books are these?" he asked after a few moments, having to all appearances ignored Roka's promises about being a secret keeper. Of course, with his mother still right there, hovering and watching, there probably weren't too many secrets he'd feel like sharing anyway.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 04, 2009 4:10 pm
The box was discarded on the surface of the nearest table, lid closed. Subtracting a cross of her arms (oh, bad habits!), Roka didn't move; she just watched. Dolmin was like many children, but her assessment so far was he was indeed very bright, and most importantly, acting out for some reason. A horrid little child wouldn't have caved to that look Oylen had given him earlier, let alone abide by her will and offer thanks.
The books? An interesting question for someone his age. She hadn't had anyone with an affinity for the written word in here yet, especially not a child. "They're many different sorts. Some are on people, some are on dragons. You must like those to go to see the hatching."
To the end of the room there was a book shelf covered in dust. The only spot clear of the menace was a straight line in front of leather bound bundle of pages that looked as though they'd seen their fair share of sevendays. These collected papers were once again removed, and Roka flipped them open, again kneeling just enough for Dolmin to see.
"I like this one, but it's not exactly a normal book." Any words were absent, but there were pictures; detailed, somewhat smudged pictures of dragons of various sizes and colors. "I met a Harper when I was around your age, she used to like to draw these a lot." Then, from the blue, "Do you mind if your mother leaves for a bit, Dolmin? I promise not to bore you. I'm sure she has a lot of things she has to do. Having a job is very difficult and time consuming."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 1:59 pm
Dolmin glanced up at the mention of the Hatching, his face frowning a bit more - but of course, with that dragon book in front of him, all things were forgivable. "Oh, wooow!" he exclaimed, instantly drawn to the pages. Look at all the dragons! The pictures might not be perfectly realistic, sure, but they were plenty good for a nine-Turn-old boy's imagination to fill in the gaps; there was a brown, like an older version of the one he'd met the other day! And there were some pretty blues, too....
It probably wasn't too surprising that Dolmin wasn't attached to the idea of his mother staying. "Yeah, she can go," he agreed, without any interest in the subject at all. His eyes were locked on that book now, and nothing else really mattered. He'd bet that Kagiya hadn't gotten to see these awesome pictures!... of course, he thought more grouchily, her daddy was a bronzerider, so she probably got to just walk out and see real dragons whenever she wanted. Pah.
"Thank you," Olyen nodded to the Mindhealer quietly. "I'll be at the herdbeast corral if you need anything. Dolmin... be good and listen to the nice lady, all right?" When the child didn't immediately answer her, she frowned a bit, and tried in a sharper tone - "Dolmin...."
"Mm-hm," he answered indistinctly, which was apparently as good as the Herdcrafter could get. The woman creased her brow, then went to take her leave.
With his mother gone, Dolmin looked up from the book, addressing Roka long enough to ask, "You like dragons, right? Have you ever gotten to ride one?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 17, 2009 11:31 am
Roka acknowledged the woman's departure by simply a sideward, barely noticeable jerk of her head. It was a good thing the boy had his attention focused other places than on her. The mindhealer didn't want to be rude, but she didn't want to redirect his attention anywhere else after she'd managed to grab it either.
"I have, a few times," she recalled. That dragon had been gone many turns now, following the fate of her rider, but still Roka spoke of the scenario in a lighthearted way. "A green a friend of mine had. It was very exciting. Would you like to Impress one day? Maybe a bronze?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
