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Post by Tirael on Apr 15, 2010 23:57:30 GMT -6
It had taken some time, but the crowd of patients had finally been cleared out of the infirmary. They weren't all healed, obviously; it was rare to find a creature around the Abbey that wasn't bandaged, and several were still mostly immobile. But the sun, apparently apologetic for winter, was exerting itself far more than it should have; bed-ridden patients had been moved to the relative coolness of Cavern Hole, where they were also conveniently located by the kitchens.
Tirael was somewhat glad of that; he had been uncomfortable with the infirmary at first, and after several days, had become nearly crazed at the lack of time to fix it. Finally, though, with the infirmary empty and his rounds complete, he had his chance. In the center of the dusty floor was a large bucket, several rags, and a large sack for whatever flotsam had accumulated over forty years. He had also exchanged his tunic for a slightly ragged kilt that could, as far as he was concerned, change color entirely from the dirt by the time the job was over.
Thus armed, he began his crusade. This room was going to be cleaned if he died doing it; only the sound of the door opening brought a halt to his relentless efforts. Framed in the window he'd been scrubbing, he froze and stared nervously at his unexpected visitor.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Apr 16, 2010 21:16:48 GMT -6
The last few days had seen the revitalization of a dispirited group, and a newfound desire to clean everything in site. Squirrels clambered up walls and over windows, mice scrubbed floors, otters dove in the pond and pulled out decades of gunk. Although Lorna had wanted a clean ship, she had never acquired this due to the laziness of her vermin horde.
Skipper was feeling healthier, the last few days healing him swiftly, a trait Roseleaf attributed to his own strong will and actually living in a dwelling. He'd had no chance to ask Tirael, the younger otter always away and out when he came in site. It irritated Skipper to no end, even worse than the weakness that persisted at the end of long days and the chafing of being under Roseleaf's stiff eye.
“Tirael.” He said, leaning on the doorway, not from weakness, just an accustomed leaning. “Why are ye avoidin' me?”
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Post by Tirael on Apr 16, 2010 22:40:37 GMT -6
“Tirael.”
Tirael's heart sank. Skipper did not sound happy.
“Why are ye avoidin' me?”
The otter backed slightly, feeling cornered. He had no real answer for this; what was he supposed to say? Oh, it's just because you hate me, is all, no big deal. "I-I haven't been...it's just been busy, and...y'know..." He was a lousy liar. They both knew it, and despite how difficult this was, Tirael knew he wasn't going to get away with an excuse that pathetic. Sighing, he crossed his arms and looked down. "Because...because..." But he couldn't do it. He sat on one of the beds, facing away from his father.
"Because I don't want to lose another family."
He hung his head in misery.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Apr 16, 2010 23:29:54 GMT -6
“I-I haven't been...it's just been busy, and...y'know..."
Skipper moved into the room, not fooled a bit by Tirael's dissembling. The lad had always been a bad liar, from the moment he had stumbled into Skipper's life, even to now, when he seemed to be doing his best to shut himself out of it.
"Because...because..." The bed creaked as Skipper sat on its edge, he sighed, turning towards his son.
"Because I don't want to lose another family."
“Tirael, Tirael...” Skipper said, half consolingly, half chidingly. “If ye don't want to lose us, why shut me out?” He put a paw around the younger otter's shoulders. “How could ye think such a thing is possible? Tam'n'I, we'll never leave ye.” He grinned. “After all, they can't git rid o' ol' Skipp that easily!”
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Post by Tirael on Apr 17, 2010 0:24:37 GMT -6
“Tirael, Tirael...” Skipper said, half consolingly, half chidingly. “If ye don't want to lose us, why shut me out?”
Tirael shrank away. Panic was starting to well up inside him; he felt too exposed. He wished he was wearing his tunic, something to cover him, something to hide behind.
“How could ye think such a thing is possible? Tam'n'I, we'll never leave ye.” He grinned. “After all, they can't git rid o' ol' Skipp that easily!”
He shook his head. "No, they can't." Looking up at his father with glassy eyes, he added, "But getting rid of me--" He swallowed nervously, then everything that had been bottled up for days began to pour out. "If you had the chance to talk to me...you'd have the chance to..." He buried his face in his paws. "I don't mean to shame you, I-I just...I..." He fell silent, wishing he couldn't feel Skipp's paw against his shoulder fur. Receiving such kind treatment before being disowned would certainly be far more horrible than any of the torture Tirael had endured in his time as a slave.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Apr 18, 2010 23:55:03 GMT -6
“No, they can't." Looking up at his father with glassy eyes, he added, "But getting rid of me--"
Skipper could feel Tirael tense. He kept a good grip on the lad, other ways he’d probably try to run. Skipp sighed, Tir was a good lad, but he was prone to running from his problems.
"If you had the chance to talk to me...you'd have the chance to..." He buried his face in his paws. "I don't mean to shame you, I-I just...I..."
“I’d have the chance to do what, Tirael lad?” Skipper took his paw off of Tirael’s shoulders and turned to face the younger otter, who’d scooted to the foot of the bed. “Have I ever been ashamed o' ye, Tir? Have I ever said that ye shamed me?”
“C’mere lad…” he motioned to Tirael to return to where he had been originally. “Now. Why do ye think I should be ashamed o' ye? Worse, what d'ye think o' me, that I can be ashamed o' my own son?”
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Post by Tirael on Apr 19, 2010 18:27:43 GMT -6
“I’d have the chance to do what, Tirael lad?” Skipper took his paw off of Tirael’s shoulders and turned to face the younger otter, who’d scooted to the foot of the bed. “Have I ever been ashamed o' ye, Tir? Have I ever said that ye shamed me?”
Tirael silently considered the question; it didn't seem like an entirely convincing argument. After all, they'd barely spoken at all since he'd been freed, and it wasn't like Skipp was rude enough to just blurt that sort of thing out in front of everybeast. But here, in the absolute solitude of the infirmary, there should be nothing to stop him. But then, why was he putting it off?
“C’mere lad…”
Glancing back in his father's direction, the younger otter turned and tentatively moved back to where he'd been before.
“Now. Why do ye think I should be ashamed o' ye? Worse, what d'ye think o' me, that I can be ashamed o' my own son?”
Did he really have to list all the ways in which he was a failure? Either this was a lousy attempt to cheer him up or, more likely, an ingenious way to make him miserable. "I don't think anything bad about you, it's...it's just...me! All I ever do is make things worse! Everybeast has to help me because I can barely take care of myself, and all I do in return is make them unhappy!"
Realizing that he'd practically begun yelling, Tirael seemed to shrink again, lowering his eyes apologetically and speaking in a hoarse whisper. "And all I've ever thought of you was how...lucky...I was that you picked the wrong orphan out of the bunch." Fighting back a bitter tear, he said, "You deserve a better son than me."
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Apr 19, 2010 23:30:54 GMT -6
"I don't think anything bad about you, it's...it's just...me! All I ever do is make things worse! Everybeast has to help me because I can barely take care of myself, and all I do in return is make them unhappy!"
Skipper listened to all this with growing incredulity, he had had no idea that Tirael’s view of the world was so skewed. It was obvious that the young otter had no idea of his own worth, either to the community at large or to his family.
"And all I've ever thought of you was how...lucky...I was that you picked the wrong orphan out of the bunch." Fighting back a bitter tear, he said, "You deserve a better son than me."
“I have never heard such bilge in my life, Tirael.” Skipper said severely. “How could ye think yore worthless? Without you many a creature would not be around, or be able to walk without a limp, or carve for the rheumatism. Tam wouldn’t have a brother, and I wouldn’t have a son.” He pulled Tir to him in a rough hug. “Don’t ever think yore replaceable, son. I picked ye ‘cause yore ye, not cause I just ‘ad to ‘pick an orphan outta the bunch.’”
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Post by Tirael on Apr 20, 2010 0:18:21 GMT -6
“I have never heard such bilge in my life, Tirael.”
At first, the tone alone told Tirael what he already knew: this was the end, he had no family again, he was alone. But then the words hit him; his ears flicked in confusion, and he looked up at his father.
“How could ye think yore worthless? Without you many a creature would not be around, or be able to walk without a limp, or carve for the rheumatism. Tam wouldn’t have a brother, and I wouldn’t have a son.”
Tirael gave a start as the Skipper grabbed him for a hug. It was the last thing he expected, and he remained frozen in shock for a good few seconds. As Skipp continued, however, he tentatively returned the gesture.
“Don’t ever think yore replaceable, son. I picked ye ‘cause yore ye, not cause I just ‘ad to ‘pick an orphan outta the bunch.’”
After a few moments, Tirael spoke. "Thanks, Skipp." There was immense gratitude in his voice. "I'm glad you picked me." He slowly withdrew from the hug. "So...I never did find out," he said after a short pause. Tilting his head, he asked, "How did you get injured? All I know was there was a poison arrow involved..." He had gathered from Tam that the odd newcomer--Rogg, was it?--had been somehow involved, but he'd had no idea how. Nor did he have any idea why she seemed to hate the otter so much.
To him, Rogg had seemed pretty nice.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Apr 21, 2010 21:38:04 GMT -6
"Thanks, Skipp." There was immense gratitude in his voice. "I'm glad you picked me."
Skipp tousled the fur on Tir’s head, grinning at the young otter lad. “Good t’see ye back to yore old self, lad.”
“So...I never did find out," […] "How did you get injured? All I know was there was a poison arrow involved..."
Skipper sighed, if the lad hadn’t been avoiding him so in the last few days, he’d have heard this story. He’d told Tam to not speak to Tir about it, her obvious hatred of the unfortunate young otter would have tainted her telling. Shortly, concisely he told Tirael the whole story, from the beginning to the present, filling in blanks of his own memory with the accounts of others’.
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Post by Tirael on Apr 21, 2010 22:06:46 GMT -6
Tirael's grin faded as the Skipper explained his encounter with Rogg. By the end of it, the younger otter looked just as confused as he had earlier. "But...I don't get it, I ran into him, and he...he seemed nice..." He looked up at his father questioningly. Somehow, while the concept that 'bad' creatures could be good had always been natural to him, it had never occurred to him that 'good' creatures could go rotten. The fact that Rogg had seemed every bit as clumsy and awkward as himself only reinforced that notion, but evidently, Tirael's judgment was as bad as ever. "How could he act like that after trying to kill you?"
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