Savith flies over, his charge carryed in his arms like a precious jewel, a delicate eggshell made of glass that would crack and shatter at the slightest pressure. Yet, there's an almost impreceptable tightening of his arms, protective, in a way. Reaching the feather pillow, Savith drops to the bed, lowering himself to set Larias downjust as light as a feather on a stray breeze. Never taking his eyes from Larias, he reaches out for the water, a muttered thanks to his mother, as his brows draw together. Once again, he rambles questions, "Why, though? Is something wrong? Does this happen often? I can't think of anything like this happening..."
Llune hands off the water, and sits, limply, behind Savith, lips pressed together, noting every movement in case of more problems. A clanking in the work room tells her the the apprentices are back, good, they can be sent for Winny, *if* necessary.
The color begins to return to cheeks, along with a healthy shade of pink. Larias speaks slowly, obviously choosing her words carefully, "I don't know why," a hand moves to touch her belly, yup, still moving, "And nothing feels wrong, it .. I just, stopped." A frown forms, "Its not happened before, maybe I should have eaten more.. or had some water earlier."
Llune nods at the idea of her.. ah.. peckishness havong some affect
Savith nods. Once the immediate concern passes, his eyes harden again. "YOu should have," he comments, "Next time, eat when you're told." Gah! And just when things were going so well, he opens mouth and stuffs in foot. His eyes trail toward the child, eyes narrowing. A muttered thought, "...maybe we should call a healer, just in case."
Perhaps too tired at the moment, or simply frustrated with herself for appearing so weak, Larias actually manages to bite her tongue rather than offering a curt retort. Instead, she nods, "I will need to from now on I guess." At the thought of a healer (of course there -is- only one accessible at the moment), Larias's eyes close, her color paling slightly, "I'd prefer avoiding that if at all possible."
Llune nods once more, a solemn look upon her face, "Larias, dear," She says, ever so gently, "Your strength is for the both of you, you must give the child a chance of survival..."
Llune stands, embarassed, "shall I get some soup?"
A meek voice responds to Llune's statement, "I know... I know." If her eyes weren't already shut, just to hide the anguish and worry, they would have then. Ahh, a safer question, Larias nods, "I think that would be a good idea."
Llune moves to the hearth and begins preparations for a stew and some warm tea.
Savith watches Larias, but nods to his mother. "Very good idea," he replies in a soft voice. Brows draw up. He's very very considered. Despite Larias's concerns, he's almost tempted to reach for Winnowill's mind, request her aid.
Llune bustles about, talking to fill the silence, "No sense bothering Winnowill - she's very busy, as I'm sure you both know..." A dash of this, scoop of that... "Besides, we'll just get you fed and you'll be fine, especially if you start eating more." The tea steams as she pours it into a small stone mug for you and turns around, "Here, try this."
The tea is warm - not to terribly hot, and lets off a chamomile/lemon grass scent, "This is my favorite."
Pale blue eyes chance opening once again, gaze resting upon Savith for only a moment before looking away towards Llune. A weak and weary smile forms on Larias' lips as the tea is brought over along with simple chatter. She pushes herself up into more of a sitting position then reaches for the mug, "Yes.. yes, I think you're right.. Eating better, should be fine." Not to mention, that means safe from Winny's clutches too!
Savith stands to pace about his mother's chambers, walking a familiar path, much as he once did as a youth when things troubled him. She needs a healer, she does. Just eating better.... He's not sure will fix anything, so late in the game as it is.
Llune Turns back to preparing the soup, "Savith, darling, would you like some soup too? Perhaps you can stir this while I dismiss my apprentices? I'll fetch the wine flask, too, you could probably stand a drink as well as I..." She smiles, that knowing, mindfully-ignorant Llune smile.
Savith hmmms and glances over. Ah... yes. He nods, but stays on the far side of the chamber, reaching for hte soup spoon with his mind, to stir the soup from afar. As always, Llune was good at finding ways to stop Savith from doing anything. Though concentrating on the spoon, he glances at Larias, green eyes troubled.
Larias sips at her tea, hands wrapped around the mug, drawing the warmth from it. A shiver runs up and down her spine, all to easy to feel Savith's worry, only there to add to her own. A private thought drifts from her to her Recognized.
You sense in a locksend, Larias's mind is troubled as well, being light headed is one thing, to have the world go dark, frightening, and only because of this, does she begin to consider acquiescing to his wishes, ** If you ask me too... I will. But I won't like it. **
You locksend ** And for now, your emotions must remain calm. Surely our constant bickering does nothing ot improve the situation,** he replies, mind mulling over something, **I almost don't dare to think it.... ** to Larias.
Llune exits the room breifly, to send her workers home, and fetches the wine skin, stopping only to take a deep drink of it before turning back to her room.
You sense in a locksend, Larias almost amused, ** You have no idea how hard it is to remain calm.... ** a pause, as her mind struggles to lift out of its fog and catch up to all you said, ** what won't you dare think of? **
Savith looks over at Larias, still stirring the soup with his mind at he locksends. At that last question, though, he turns but to his mother, now returned. Arms are folded across his chest, talonwhip on his hip. The muscles at his jaw works, and he does not reply.
Larias remains where she was placed on Llune's bed, sitting upright and sipping at the tea Llune prepared for her. Focussed for the moment on Savith, she seems to be waiting for answer of some kind, but hey, at least she's not pressing him for more of an answer - patience is a virtue after all/
Llune wanders in, carrying the wineskin and escorting Volek, "Look who I found," She proclaims toward Savith.
Savith quirks a brow. He is late, and he knows it. But admitting it is difficult. Instead, he touches Larias's mind again, as tightly lock as he can, using that bond between them to hide.
You locksend ** Do YOU feel the need for A healer? ** to Larias.
Volek walks towards the chambers of the tailor. In his one arm is warpped his whip, a roughly made one made of twisted scraps of hide and what ever else. A roughly carved stone is at the end of it. It is the child's practice item. He follows Llune at a respectful distance as he sends a small smile to his teacher. Late or not, there is really nothing the boy would or could say.
Larias sets the now emptied stone mug down, letting out a light sigh, "Honestly I don't know what I need. I've not done this before." As Volek makes his entrance, Larias nods to him, hmm, perhaps sitting in bed isn't such a good idea. She pushes herself up to a standing position, a tad wobbly on her own legs until she lifts into the air, to hover an inch or two off the ground.
Llune moves to the soup and scoops some into a dish, placing it on the low table around which soft bean-bag-like cushions, "Eat dear, perhaps it will help."
Savith tenses as Larias wobbles. The hint that he's so close to flying to her side. Ah, but good control he has, for now, and he stays on his feet across the room. In the hearth, the ladle stirs the soup slowly, moved as if by an invisible hand. As Llune's hand grasps the ladle, Savith leaves off stirring. He nods to Volek, and seems to be chewing on a knot of a problem. "Volek. How fares Winddance?" An odd question.
Larias makes her way to the low table, and, after studying the seats carefully, she slowly drops onto one of the chairs - thank the High Ones flight is so versatile, else pregnant as she is, she'd never manage to get down and back up again. A sigh as she finally settle sin, unable to quite reach the table, she brings the bowl to her with but a thought, "Again, thank you Llune."
Llune sits at the table, pouring a glass of wine for Savith and herself, "Would you care for anything, Volek?" She inquires, waving all to sit and relax, please.
Volek slides his glance to take in the surroundings. He returns Larias' nod and gives her a respectful smile. The lad is somewhat building a shell around himself, as he dosen't quite speak as much. More-or-less, speaking when spoken to. He slides his whip into it's place at his side and gives a slight headbow to Savith. "Winddance is doing well. I've been tending to her for a while." He takes to the air himself, drifting a few inches abouve the ground, ** Thanks, but no. I am doing well. **
Llune nods and relaxes into the cushion, surveying her guests, sipping her wine.
Savith nods to Volek, a thoughtful nod, with pursed lips. His eyes take stock of Larias. She's getting heavy, and can't make too long of a trip. It make things worse. But she won't trust the healer here. -sigh- What is an elf to do?
Larias spoons a few bites of the soup into her mouth, after which she sends the bowl back onto the table. She's eaten, yup! Her eyes close again, though she doesn't sleep, instead she listens to the light bit sof chatter going on.
You locksend ** More. ** to Larias.
Llune picks up the bowl mere moments after Larias has set it down, "If that's all you wish, have a few more bites for the little one."
First blue eyes open and look at Savith, but then Llune is on her too. Larias sighs and nods, voice sounding defeated, "If I have too..."
Savith's reply is cold, "YOu do. Now eat." Ah... as abrasive as always.
Llune nods , more seriously than Llune could be imagined to be, "Yes, you must, please, for the sake of your child?" Appealing to one's smooshy lovey side, as always.
Volek remains quiet for the moment, observing, as he always does, knowing, perhaps, more than he should, but not speaking. Though, his brows furrow for a moment while Savith isn't looking.
Like a good little glider, Larias takes the bowl of soup once more, and with a look of nothing short of determination, begins eating it. There is no joy in tasting, no liking of what she's eating, quite the opposite, she looks as if she may be sick, but, she eats.
Llune refills Larias' tea glass, motions Savith towards his, "Or do you need to conduct your lesson, Savith, my dear?"
Volek lights his expression as Llune speaks of his lesson.
Savith watches Larias eat, eyes narrow. Only when she's eaten the whole bowl will he lift his gaze from her. He glances at Volek, "Sadly no. The winds are no longer right for it." A likely excuse. Now he's got to make preparations. "But my shift is begining. Perhaps, Volek, Larias and Llune here can talk you through some things. Larias was once Chosen herself." A pointed look is given Larias, "And surely not all her lessons were forgotten."
Llune blushes, "I can't give many lessons, save for the care and construction of clothing, or perhaps a bit of harp music or astronomy... We could move to my workroom, if you'll need a little more light."
Volek simply nods. He is dedicated to his lesson, on the inside he is angry, almost cut as the lesson is passed. But as the good student he is, he does not complain. "I shall look forward to tomorrows lesson then."
Savith glances at Volek, a brow faintly lifted. "I shall endevor to make it memorable," he replies. Whatever that means. He glances at Larias, and makes his decision, now, before he goes to see WInnowill, so he doesn't dwell on it in her presence. "If you'll see to it our bags are packed for a turn's journey," he states, then looks to Larias. Wanted or not, a healer you'll see, soulmate. "we'll leave in a hand of days." No sense waiting.
Once the entire bowl is eaten, Larias sends it to the table. At Savith's words though, her brows purse, "I.. will.." Uncertain, she's no clue where they're about to head off too. She swallows, High Ones what is ging on now!
surprise registers on Llune's face, "So soon?" She grows paler than normal...
Llune says "I must finish those projects and equip you with a few more items... and some clothes for the child."
Savith sets a hand on Volek's shoulder, "Let me know you've packed everything." Well, that worked out rather well. "And mention this to no one." He glances at Llune, "Now or never. I can not sit by as Our Lord does nothing." He shakes his head, "Larias will help you, bring only what you must. For now, I must not think on the matter further." With that, he turns and flies off, toward the Main Hall and his guard duty of Winnowill or, as has been of late, an empty throne.
Llune looks from face to face, noting the expressions, "What?" She turns to Larias, "Help me what?" She slumps into the seat beside her.
