thisbluespirit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thisbluespirit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2024-09-21 07:56 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2024-09-21 07:56 pm
Light Black #4; Beet Red #19 [Starfall]
Name: wake me up and keep me conscious
Story: Starfall
Colors: Light Black #4 (Carry); Beet Red #19 (Out of hand)
Supplies and Styles: Resin (forno_true_pair prompt "September Nineteen - Leion & Reohr long weekend) + Pastels (for lyricaltitles bingo square "lyric with 'sleep' or 'wake'" - Broods - Conscious)
Word Count: 2295
Rating: PG
Warnings: Minor injury/illness.
Notes: 1313, Portcallan; Leion Valerno, Viyony Eseray, Karpeldis Reohrsyn. (Viyony's father pays her a surprise visit midway through her trip to Portcallan. This one's still a bit rough around the edges, but I'm running out of time forno_true_pair's deadline.)
Summary: Leion finds out to his cost that Viyony is not the only Eseray who brings trouble in her wake.
6th Month (Sunbird) 14, Shara 3
It began so innocently. Viyony's father was visiting, and was set on a trip down the coast from Portcallan. When he asked about how to hire a boat, or if there were any regular coastal trade ships that would take him, Leion volunteered to go along. He had a few days clear around the upcoming eighth-day and knew someone with a boat who ought to be amenable to making the run down the coast
"I don't see why you should do that," Viyony said, stiffening immediately at his suggestion.
Leion raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Sounds intriguing, and I can help make up the crew. I'd have thought you'd approve—the next eighth-day is Shara's, so it can even count as observance of sorts. You'll just have to put up with me."
"Viyony won't be with us," said Reohr. "Not much of a sailor."
Leion paused. "But then—don't you want to spend your visit here with her?"
"Much as I'd love to, I won't have another chance like this for years. This stretch of coast has a range of species that aren't found anywhere else in Emoyra—it's the ports and proximity to the Korphils and the Southlands, you see."
"Do you mind me tagging along, then? I'm sure my friend would take you without me. Half an hour isn't much time for you to gauge how trustworthy I am. Viyony, of course, has known me for whole months now."
Reohr glanced at his daughter. "Well?"
"I'm sure he does know someone who has a boat," she said. "Leion knows everyone in Portcallan, apparently."
Leion turned to Reohr. "Not everyone. Half of Portcallan, maybe. Any of whom would give me glowing references, but Viyony's harder to win over."
"And, yes, you can trust him, as far as that goes," Viyony added. "I don't see why he wants to go, though."
"Then I'll be happy to have you," said Reohr. He raised his empty glass, studied with a passing frown and excused himself, ambling away in search of a refill.
"How could you?" hissed Viyony, the moment Reohr was out of earshot.
"Try to help your father? Go sailing? There's not a law against either, you know. My mother would have been sure to tell me if there were."
She glared. "No. Unfortunately. Oh, but don't go and give him ideas about anything!"
"Don't worry. I don't know anything about lichen or wildflowers or whatever else it is he's after. But it's been ages since I've had a chance for a trip like this, and I'm always willing to learn. I'm sorry you're not coming. The weather ought to be good, and it's such a beautiful stretch of country."
Viyony deflated. "All right. I'm sorry. But do keep an eye on him! I never know what he'll do when he's collecting samples. Don't let him fall off a cliff. Or the boat."
"He seems quite capable," Leion ventured. "I mean, I bow to your superior knowledge, obviously, but he seems a sensible enough soul to me."
"Up to a point." Her brow furrowed. "I wish you'd kept out of it! It's not fair to try and ingratiate yourself with my father like that."
"I was only trying to be helpful."
"Well, you should think first!"
"My apologies," said Leion. "If I run into any more Eserays, I shall remember to be rude and unhelpful, but unfortunately my parents taught me manners."
Viyony shook her head and edged nearer to him. "Don't be annoying. You must understand what I'm talking about."
"I really don't think I do," said Leion.
"I suppose, then, that does make it all right." But the frown hadn't left her face.
Their first port of call was Kalna, some way southwards down the coast from Portcallan. The weather had been obliging so far, sunny, but with a sharp breeze from the right quarters.
"They traded with the Southlands here for quite a few centuries," said Reohr, as he strode about the beach with a notebook in one hand. "Then the harbour took a hit in the great storm of 962, and the place never recovered. There are a few things we might find here, although it may be a little too northwards for others - like sunset dustflower. All the same, if you'll go up to the clifftops and take a look for that just in case, I'd appreciate it."
"Why not?"
"Mind," Reohr called after him, "if you are lucky enough to stumble over any, be sure to handle it very carefully!"
Leion hurried over shifting sand and pebbles while trying to keep his step even, so as not to damage his prize. He passed the box over to Reohr gently. "I found it! And, yes, I was as careful as I could be—it should be safe enough in there. It's well wrapped up, and I went slowly all the way back down."
Reohr looked blankly at Leion for a long moment before blinking. "Valerno, when I said to handle it carefully, you didn't think I meant it was delicate, did you?"
"Well," said Leion. "Yes?"
"Oh dear. I'm sorry—you're local, so I thought you'd know."
"Botany isn't my strong point."
Reohr held up a hand to silence him. "But you handled it with a cloth or gloves?"
"No," said Leion. "Is this a joke? If it's poisonous, I did refrain from eating it quite easily. Ugly spiky sort of thing."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid it's extremely toxic. Hold out your hands."
Leion bit back impatience and obeyed. His left hand was redder than it should be, and the right had similar blotchy patches.
"Yes," said Reohr. "Oh, dear. I really didn't think we'd be lucky enough to find any here. I'm so sorry." He turned his head and whistled to the mate, examining rock pools a few lengths from them. "Bring the water flask!"
"It can't be that bad, can it?" Leion lifted his arm, twisting it slightly to see how far the inflammation had spread.
Reohr remained grave. "Well, you're unlikely to die at least. It just all rather depends on how much has got into your system, if it has, and how you react, which does vary."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Leion's edge of amusement started sliding away. "Look, I dug it up as gently as I could, then wrapped it up in the cloth. I'll be fine, I'm sure."
Reohr took the flask from the mate as he reached them. He poured some of the fresh water out into the nearest one of his empty tubs, awaiting specimens to be cleaned. "Wash your hands and face."
Leion set about it, splashing the water over his hands and arms, which were already beginning to sting.
"It's the pollen—it's called dustflower for a reason. If you weren't aware, then you very likely breathed it in while you where digging it up—maybe also rubbed your hand against your face or mouth at any point since then—or, if you have any minute little cuts or grazes on your skin." Reohr shrugged. "We cannot take chances."
Leion finished wiping his face and hands dry with one of the clean cloths that had been intended for wrapping the samples. "Oh?"
"It's not that I want to alarm you—you could very well have nothing more than a rash—but I think the odds are it'll be a little worse. Cramps, almost certainly. Maybe nausea, numbness, a high temperature. Passing out, even. Come on—we'd better get back up to the village sooner rather than later and see if there's a suitable inn where you can wait for us to return."
"Oh, come on—surely that can't be necessary?"
"I insist," said Reohr mildly, but there was an implacable note in it.
Leion gazed past him at the waves as they crashed onto the shingle shore. "Imai Reohrsyn, even if I have to wait here, you don't need to."
"This is my responsibility—I can hardly abandon you."
Leion turned. "No, no. It's my own doing. Look, I'll go to the inn, stay there until I know whether I'm all right or not, and get the Coastal Coach when it comes along. You must carry on with your trip. Ask one of the village lads to replace me if the captain needs another hand."
"We'll see," said Reohr, wrinkling his brow, intent on surveying their way ahead up the narrow cliff path. "If the innkeeper seems a responsible sort, perhaps. Come along! Better get you up there sooner rather than later."
"Seriously, if you miss your opportunity and it's all my doing, I'll never hear the end of it from Viyony. Better to die alone out here!"
Reohr eyed him with dark-eyed solemnity. He patted Leion's shoulder. "No, no—I'm almost certain there's no danger of that, Valerno."
Leion's right arm began to throb softly. He should have known better than to go somewhere with an Eseray by now. "Thank you," he murmured.
"Interesting little place," Reohr said, closing the door of the chamber behind him. "The proprietor seems obliging enough, and I've sent word back to Portcallan."
Leion nodded. His right arm and hand had grown increasingly inflamed and swollen, and it was now throbbing; his other hand, too, although to a lesser degree. He'd developed a low headache and decided, after Reohr had delivered him into the room that he did feel better lying down.
"She'll check on you regularly," said Reohr more quietly, "and she'll get the local medic if there's need. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Honestly," Leion said, "I'd much rather you didn't. It all seems likely to be undignified and tiresome, without having to know that my stupidity kept you from completing your expedition."
"Fair enough." Reohr headed back to the door, but hesitated with his hand on the handle. "You've taken that draught, yes? It will help keep the temperature down."
Leion propped himself up on the pillow and reached for the cup on the stand beside the bed. "Forgot. Sorry."
Reohr watched while he sipped at the hayiba powder, pulling faces. Viyony's father nodded and slipped away. Leion watched him pull the door to and lay back down. His arm gave a painful twinge. Hadn't Reohr said something about ointment for it? One of the things that he'd put in his message to Portcallan, probably. Leion sighed. It was going to be a long lead in to the eighth-day.
Of the symptoms Reohr had warned him about, the worst was the rising temperature, enough to make him feverish. He turned over on his side, and then flat on his back again, trying to find a position that didn't irritate his arm. His arm gave another painful twinge, echoed across his body before a sudden stomach cramp made him double up, followed by a wave of nausea.
He groaned and staggered into the washroom to find a basin. "And I didn't even eat the stuff," he muttered.
His body seemed to agree with his complaint, since both stomach pain and sickness faded before the half hour was out, succeeded by random twinges and pins and needles in other places. Lying back on the bed, he drowsed, waking and dreaming merging.
The dream seemed to be the same one: he was an officer in the Sea Watch—himself and not himself. When he was awake enough to understand he was still in the inn's sunlit chamber, he thought the Leion in the dream lived in the world of that invented history book he'd found. General Sola's rebellion had failed utterly, and this was where that turn of events had left Leion.
Not that it mattered; the Sea Watch was about the only military branch he would ever consider joining. But he dreamed that Atino was still there, still drawing him into trouble.
"Look the other way one more time," he'd murmur, the night before another ship was due in from Calla Island, or wherever it was in the dream. "What difference would it make? You know if you do, I'll always look out for you."
Leion tried to push him away. "No, no!"
"Shara save us, you gave me a start!"
Leion opened his eyes to see the inn's proprietor looking down at him. He was still in the bed, tangled up in the sheet, and it was dark but for a dim lamp somewhere off to the side. It took a long moment for him to understand who she was. The last thing he recalled, he'd been walking around the old haven end of Portcallan with Atino.
"I was bringing you this." She nodded down at a tray with a bowl of soup on it, resting on the stand beside the bed. "I must have woken you."
Leion swallowed, and then rubbed his eyes. "Sorry about that."
"The worst of it'll pass soon enough," she said. "Imai Ekolter's popping in on the way back from the birth, just to make sure."
Leion pushed himself into a sitting position. Some of the feverish fuzziness seemed to have dissipated already, even if not enough to follow whatever she was talking about yet. She seemed to mean well. "Thank you. Not the way I meant to spend my holiday, though."
"It happens," she said, heading back to the door. "My young brother had a nasty encounter with dustflowers when he was small once—ever so much worse than you. And he's still with us, causing as much trouble as ever. You'll be yourself again by morning."
Leion watched her go. He thought distantly that that he really should eat the soup, but the next thing he knew, he was dreaming again, swallowed up by non-existent storms.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Light Black #4 (Carry); Beet Red #19 (Out of hand)
Supplies and Styles: Resin (for
no_true_pair prompt "September Nineteen - Leion & Reohr long weekend) + Pastels (for lyricaltitles bingo square "lyric with 'sleep' or 'wake'" - Broods - Conscious)Word Count: 2295
Rating: PG
Warnings: Minor injury/illness.
Notes: 1313, Portcallan; Leion Valerno, Viyony Eseray, Karpeldis Reohrsyn. (Viyony's father pays her a surprise visit midway through her trip to Portcallan. This one's still a bit rough around the edges, but I'm running out of time for
no_true_pair's deadline.)Summary: Leion finds out to his cost that Viyony is not the only Eseray who brings trouble in her wake.
6th Month (Sunbird) 14, Shara 3
It began so innocently. Viyony's father was visiting, and was set on a trip down the coast from Portcallan. When he asked about how to hire a boat, or if there were any regular coastal trade ships that would take him, Leion volunteered to go along. He had a few days clear around the upcoming eighth-day and knew someone with a boat who ought to be amenable to making the run down the coast
"I don't see why you should do that," Viyony said, stiffening immediately at his suggestion.
Leion raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Sounds intriguing, and I can help make up the crew. I'd have thought you'd approve—the next eighth-day is Shara's, so it can even count as observance of sorts. You'll just have to put up with me."
"Viyony won't be with us," said Reohr. "Not much of a sailor."
Leion paused. "But then—don't you want to spend your visit here with her?"
"Much as I'd love to, I won't have another chance like this for years. This stretch of coast has a range of species that aren't found anywhere else in Emoyra—it's the ports and proximity to the Korphils and the Southlands, you see."
"Do you mind me tagging along, then? I'm sure my friend would take you without me. Half an hour isn't much time for you to gauge how trustworthy I am. Viyony, of course, has known me for whole months now."
Reohr glanced at his daughter. "Well?"
"I'm sure he does know someone who has a boat," she said. "Leion knows everyone in Portcallan, apparently."
Leion turned to Reohr. "Not everyone. Half of Portcallan, maybe. Any of whom would give me glowing references, but Viyony's harder to win over."
"And, yes, you can trust him, as far as that goes," Viyony added. "I don't see why he wants to go, though."
"Then I'll be happy to have you," said Reohr. He raised his empty glass, studied with a passing frown and excused himself, ambling away in search of a refill.
"How could you?" hissed Viyony, the moment Reohr was out of earshot.
"Try to help your father? Go sailing? There's not a law against either, you know. My mother would have been sure to tell me if there were."
She glared. "No. Unfortunately. Oh, but don't go and give him ideas about anything!"
"Don't worry. I don't know anything about lichen or wildflowers or whatever else it is he's after. But it's been ages since I've had a chance for a trip like this, and I'm always willing to learn. I'm sorry you're not coming. The weather ought to be good, and it's such a beautiful stretch of country."
Viyony deflated. "All right. I'm sorry. But do keep an eye on him! I never know what he'll do when he's collecting samples. Don't let him fall off a cliff. Or the boat."
"He seems quite capable," Leion ventured. "I mean, I bow to your superior knowledge, obviously, but he seems a sensible enough soul to me."
"Up to a point." Her brow furrowed. "I wish you'd kept out of it! It's not fair to try and ingratiate yourself with my father like that."
"I was only trying to be helpful."
"Well, you should think first!"
"My apologies," said Leion. "If I run into any more Eserays, I shall remember to be rude and unhelpful, but unfortunately my parents taught me manners."
Viyony shook her head and edged nearer to him. "Don't be annoying. You must understand what I'm talking about."
"I really don't think I do," said Leion.
"I suppose, then, that does make it all right." But the frown hadn't left her face.
Their first port of call was Kalna, some way southwards down the coast from Portcallan. The weather had been obliging so far, sunny, but with a sharp breeze from the right quarters.
"They traded with the Southlands here for quite a few centuries," said Reohr, as he strode about the beach with a notebook in one hand. "Then the harbour took a hit in the great storm of 962, and the place never recovered. There are a few things we might find here, although it may be a little too northwards for others - like sunset dustflower. All the same, if you'll go up to the clifftops and take a look for that just in case, I'd appreciate it."
"Why not?"
"Mind," Reohr called after him, "if you are lucky enough to stumble over any, be sure to handle it very carefully!"
Leion hurried over shifting sand and pebbles while trying to keep his step even, so as not to damage his prize. He passed the box over to Reohr gently. "I found it! And, yes, I was as careful as I could be—it should be safe enough in there. It's well wrapped up, and I went slowly all the way back down."
Reohr looked blankly at Leion for a long moment before blinking. "Valerno, when I said to handle it carefully, you didn't think I meant it was delicate, did you?"
"Well," said Leion. "Yes?"
"Oh dear. I'm sorry—you're local, so I thought you'd know."
"Botany isn't my strong point."
Reohr held up a hand to silence him. "But you handled it with a cloth or gloves?"
"No," said Leion. "Is this a joke? If it's poisonous, I did refrain from eating it quite easily. Ugly spiky sort of thing."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid it's extremely toxic. Hold out your hands."
Leion bit back impatience and obeyed. His left hand was redder than it should be, and the right had similar blotchy patches.
"Yes," said Reohr. "Oh, dear. I really didn't think we'd be lucky enough to find any here. I'm so sorry." He turned his head and whistled to the mate, examining rock pools a few lengths from them. "Bring the water flask!"
"It can't be that bad, can it?" Leion lifted his arm, twisting it slightly to see how far the inflammation had spread.
Reohr remained grave. "Well, you're unlikely to die at least. It just all rather depends on how much has got into your system, if it has, and how you react, which does vary."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Leion's edge of amusement started sliding away. "Look, I dug it up as gently as I could, then wrapped it up in the cloth. I'll be fine, I'm sure."
Reohr took the flask from the mate as he reached them. He poured some of the fresh water out into the nearest one of his empty tubs, awaiting specimens to be cleaned. "Wash your hands and face."
Leion set about it, splashing the water over his hands and arms, which were already beginning to sting.
"It's the pollen—it's called dustflower for a reason. If you weren't aware, then you very likely breathed it in while you where digging it up—maybe also rubbed your hand against your face or mouth at any point since then—or, if you have any minute little cuts or grazes on your skin." Reohr shrugged. "We cannot take chances."
Leion finished wiping his face and hands dry with one of the clean cloths that had been intended for wrapping the samples. "Oh?"
"It's not that I want to alarm you—you could very well have nothing more than a rash—but I think the odds are it'll be a little worse. Cramps, almost certainly. Maybe nausea, numbness, a high temperature. Passing out, even. Come on—we'd better get back up to the village sooner rather than later and see if there's a suitable inn where you can wait for us to return."
"Oh, come on—surely that can't be necessary?"
"I insist," said Reohr mildly, but there was an implacable note in it.
Leion gazed past him at the waves as they crashed onto the shingle shore. "Imai Reohrsyn, even if I have to wait here, you don't need to."
"This is my responsibility—I can hardly abandon you."
Leion turned. "No, no. It's my own doing. Look, I'll go to the inn, stay there until I know whether I'm all right or not, and get the Coastal Coach when it comes along. You must carry on with your trip. Ask one of the village lads to replace me if the captain needs another hand."
"We'll see," said Reohr, wrinkling his brow, intent on surveying their way ahead up the narrow cliff path. "If the innkeeper seems a responsible sort, perhaps. Come along! Better get you up there sooner rather than later."
"Seriously, if you miss your opportunity and it's all my doing, I'll never hear the end of it from Viyony. Better to die alone out here!"
Reohr eyed him with dark-eyed solemnity. He patted Leion's shoulder. "No, no—I'm almost certain there's no danger of that, Valerno."
Leion's right arm began to throb softly. He should have known better than to go somewhere with an Eseray by now. "Thank you," he murmured.
"Interesting little place," Reohr said, closing the door of the chamber behind him. "The proprietor seems obliging enough, and I've sent word back to Portcallan."
Leion nodded. His right arm and hand had grown increasingly inflamed and swollen, and it was now throbbing; his other hand, too, although to a lesser degree. He'd developed a low headache and decided, after Reohr had delivered him into the room that he did feel better lying down.
"She'll check on you regularly," said Reohr more quietly, "and she'll get the local medic if there's need. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Honestly," Leion said, "I'd much rather you didn't. It all seems likely to be undignified and tiresome, without having to know that my stupidity kept you from completing your expedition."
"Fair enough." Reohr headed back to the door, but hesitated with his hand on the handle. "You've taken that draught, yes? It will help keep the temperature down."
Leion propped himself up on the pillow and reached for the cup on the stand beside the bed. "Forgot. Sorry."
Reohr watched while he sipped at the hayiba powder, pulling faces. Viyony's father nodded and slipped away. Leion watched him pull the door to and lay back down. His arm gave a painful twinge. Hadn't Reohr said something about ointment for it? One of the things that he'd put in his message to Portcallan, probably. Leion sighed. It was going to be a long lead in to the eighth-day.
Of the symptoms Reohr had warned him about, the worst was the rising temperature, enough to make him feverish. He turned over on his side, and then flat on his back again, trying to find a position that didn't irritate his arm. His arm gave another painful twinge, echoed across his body before a sudden stomach cramp made him double up, followed by a wave of nausea.
He groaned and staggered into the washroom to find a basin. "And I didn't even eat the stuff," he muttered.
His body seemed to agree with his complaint, since both stomach pain and sickness faded before the half hour was out, succeeded by random twinges and pins and needles in other places. Lying back on the bed, he drowsed, waking and dreaming merging.
The dream seemed to be the same one: he was an officer in the Sea Watch—himself and not himself. When he was awake enough to understand he was still in the inn's sunlit chamber, he thought the Leion in the dream lived in the world of that invented history book he'd found. General Sola's rebellion had failed utterly, and this was where that turn of events had left Leion.
Not that it mattered; the Sea Watch was about the only military branch he would ever consider joining. But he dreamed that Atino was still there, still drawing him into trouble.
"Look the other way one more time," he'd murmur, the night before another ship was due in from Calla Island, or wherever it was in the dream. "What difference would it make? You know if you do, I'll always look out for you."
Leion tried to push him away. "No, no!"
"Shara save us, you gave me a start!"
Leion opened his eyes to see the inn's proprietor looking down at him. He was still in the bed, tangled up in the sheet, and it was dark but for a dim lamp somewhere off to the side. It took a long moment for him to understand who she was. The last thing he recalled, he'd been walking around the old haven end of Portcallan with Atino.
"I was bringing you this." She nodded down at a tray with a bowl of soup on it, resting on the stand beside the bed. "I must have woken you."
Leion swallowed, and then rubbed his eyes. "Sorry about that."
"The worst of it'll pass soon enough," she said. "Imai Ekolter's popping in on the way back from the birth, just to make sure."
Leion pushed himself into a sitting position. Some of the feverish fuzziness seemed to have dissipated already, even if not enough to follow whatever she was talking about yet. She seemed to mean well. "Thank you. Not the way I meant to spend my holiday, though."
"It happens," she said, heading back to the door. "My young brother had a nasty encounter with dustflowers when he was small once—ever so much worse than you. And he's still with us, causing as much trouble as ever. You'll be yourself again by morning."
Leion watched her go. He thought distantly that that he really should eat the soup, but the next thing he knew, he was dreaming again, swallowed up by non-existent storms.
no subject
no subject
Also, btw, I have cracked why your tag-tracking wasn't working before - Dreamwidth doesn't have the drop-down options that LJ used to, so for comms like this with a lot of set tags, I just post the entry first, then edit the tags after, because it's much easier - but it occurred to me that I might be screwing up the tracking that way. So this time I typed in my author tag when I posted it, and hey presto! You appeared like magic. So, um, yes. Sorry. I was thwarting you. Not deliberately, but quite effectively, heh.
no subject
Ooh! Norty of you! 🫣😜 Thanks for figuring it out, though.
no subject
In case I haven't mentioned it, I am really enjoying that this story has multiple different forms of time going (looped, multiversally, not taking bets against any others) weird.
no subject
no subject
Poor Leion! But I do like the descriptions of the dream world!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Hee, thank you! <3 I mean, they did all ask the questions, they just didn't maybe ask them when they should have. XD