[D8, LA] Tending Wounds (Closed)

Corrine had returned to the Marsten pavilion after the melée, letting Ellie go see Ben, and taking time to gather herself after the gruesome display.

Poor mother. She is hiding pain at Jon's death, I can tell. I should get her alone later. She'll not let it out otherwise.

As she sits by the fire pit, chewing absently on an apple, she sees Dyana loping into view. She hurriedly waves her cousin over.

"
Dyana! Will you sit with me?"

Dyana is wearing long sleeves, and trying to hide a limp, but it's not going so well. When Corrine calls for her, she looks warily at their surroundings and then makes her way to the fire pit, a bit more slowly than usual. One step after the other.

She's not much faster at sitting, either. After a long moment of lowering herself to the ground and groaning, the woman looks at her cousin with sunken eyes, but manages a feeble smile. "
Hey, Lady Marsten."
She picks up a twig and pokes it at the fire. "
You need something?"

Corrine looks at Dyana with concern;


"
Looks like that fight took a lot out of you. Are you alright?"


Of course she's not alright, you numpty.

"
I mean, will you be alright?"

Dyana shakes her head and wrinkes her nose dismissively. "
Nah. It'll be alright. No deep wounds, just... a lot of bruises. But they'll fade."
She shrugs, still poking at the fire. "
I've had worse, you know. More than once. The melee is supposed to be... a more tame experience than a real fight."

"
Yes, it turned out rather more serious than I'd anticipated too,"
Corrine replies, sadly. She looks at Dyana, hoping what she was about to say wouldn't be taken badly;


"
I know you and Jon were... friends. I'm sorry."

Dyana stops messing with the twig, and just stares at the fire for a moment. It seems she would look up at Corrine at any moment, say something, look for comfort, explain the fatal blow, cry on her shoulder. But it feels like minutes pass and she only looks at the fire.

Eventually she begins poking at it again;
the twig begins to smoke. "
Yes."

Corrine was not expecting that response. No words, no outpouring of emotions.

"
I won't push you, but I want you to know I'm here for you if you ever want to talk. I'll leave it at that."


Idiot. She's probably still reeling from it. Why didn't you just give her space?

"
Would you like something to drink?"

Dyana looks up from the fire at her cousin, and the feeble smile returns. "
Thanks, Corrine. I know you are."


She leans back a bit, resting the twig on the ground, and lets out a heavy sigh. At the offer, she glances at Corrine again. "
I could like that, yes. Is there any water around here right now?"

"
I think I saw a waterskin here earlier,"
Corrine replies, getting up and looking around the seats, finally finding one and bringing it over. She sits again, passing it over.

"
There you are. It's mostly full."

Gwyn steeled herself just outside Dyana's tent flap, and in that pause heard muffled voices from inside. Corrine?

There was an irrational stab of petulant jealousy. Dyana was her sister! Did Corrine have to stick her nose in EVERYWHERE?

But on its heels came a blush of embarrassment and guilt. Corrine loved her and Dyana as if they were all three sisters. And she hadn't had to hear the news secondhand. Obviously she was going to try to comfort Dy.

Would Dyana let her though? Would she let either of them? Gwyn wasn't sure.

She leaned her head through the flap and peeked inside.

"
Room for one more?"


Without waiting for invitation, she came inside and settled down near Corrine.

"
I heard about the melee,"
said Gwyn. "
I thought you might want to...well no...I thought you might need to talk about it. I know full well you won't want to."


She glanced at Corrine and gave her a rueful smile. "
Seems I wasn't the only one."

Corrine gives Gwyn a weak but genuine smile, and an almost imperceptible shake of the head, indicating that she thinks Dyana doesn't seem up to discussing it just yet.

"
Can I get you something to drink, Gwyn?"

"
Thank you."
Dyana says to Corrine, reaching for the waterskin. She takes a sip of it, licks her lips as if it tasted not at all like water. Then she takes some large gulps, looks at the skin some more, and Gwyn comes in. "
Hello, sister."
she says in a resigned tone, but makes no further comment on anything else that was said. Then she drinks the entire rest of the water.

She puts the waterskin aside, grabs the twig and leans forward again. She stares at the fire, pokes it once, twice and then again. After a moment, she lightly tosses the twig into the fire, and it doesn't take long to catch flame itself. She stays there, staring, silent, for what again feels like a long time.

Suddenly she stands up - almost leaps up - and kicks the firewood. The blazing timber rolls away, and Dyana screams a horrible screech. She kicks at the fire again. "
Idiot! Idiot! You FUCKING IDIOT!"
The fire is nearly put out from all the dirt tossed on it, and her boot is scorched as she keeps kicking.

Just as suddenly, she collapses back, landing on her bottom. She suddenly becomes aware of her injuries, and holds her side in a grimace. She lowers her head and falls silent.

Corrine watches, startled by Dyana's outburst, unsure what to say or do, her mouth opening and closing uselessly, her hands hovering indecisively. When Dyana slumps back down of her own accord, Corrine looks helplessly at Gwyn.

That was actually a lot better than anything Gwyn had expected. Some kind of emotion was coming out at least. She goes to sit beside Dyana, then without saying anything put an arm around her sister's waist loosely. Not hugging or trying to confine...just a physical indication of her presence.

She didn't know what to say at the moment, so she tried saying nothing and hoped that it was an okay thing to do.

Dyana barely acknowledges Gwyn's touch - she doesn't shy away from it, either. She looks down and holds her side until the pain subsides, which takes a full two or three minutes. She then tosses her head back and blinks, as someone trying to fight tears and a runny nose.

"
Sorry, you two. I shouldn't..."
She shakes her head, closes her eyes. "
I'm angry, is all."

"
It's alright, Dyana,"
Corrine replies softly. "
You have nothing to apologise for."

"
Of course you're angry,"
Gwyn said. She reached up to tuck back an errant strand of Dyana's bangs. "
Angry at the gods...angry at the world...angry at yourself. I came here, honestly expecting to find you in mid-rampage. I was afraid you might hurt yourself."

"
Hurt myself? I, ha..."
Dyana lets out a derisive half-chuckle, then shakes her head some more. "
I'm not angry at the gods, or the world. I'm angry at my own fucking stupidity. That's what."
She sighs, then looks at the two women who were looking back at her.

"
How could I... it was so... I..."
She blinks, then closes her eyes angrily for a moment, trying to steel herself. "
You see how it is? You saw everything, didn't you, Corrine? You saw it? I didn't think he was going to move like that. It wasn't supposed to... I should just have hit the helmet. Just the helmet! The helmet. If I'd just hit the helmet..."
She's shaking her head again, eyes closed.

"
I did see it, yes,"
Corrine replies sorrowfully, though her tone turned to one of reason and reassurance. "
And what I saw was an unfortunate accident. You were not stupid. He was just unlucky. Everyone joining the melée knows the risks. He went out on his feet with a weapon in his hand. That's a death that many men like him would want. You did nothing wrong."

Gwyn was quiet through that. She hadn't been there. But worse was what she was hearing underneath Dyana's words. Dy wasn't trying to convince Corrine, or Gwyn. She was trying to convince herself. Of what though...that it had been an accident? No, because that wasn't what she was repeating. She was repeating that it had been from her stupidity.

So if that was the comfort...if that was what Dyana was trying to believe...what was the fear?

Not that it hadn't been her fault...but that it hadn't been her intent.

Oh, Dyana...

"
You respected him,"
she said softly. "
He meant a lot to you. Did you love him?"

"
No! No, no, no..."
Dyana says, though it's not clear to whom or in response to what. "
The melee has risks, but that... it shouldn't! It wasn't a good death, Corrine, it wasn't! He loved me!"
She cries out, the last part almost a shout. Immediately after, she's down to almost a whisper. "
He loved me. No one knew that. I think, you thought he was entranced by... by aunt Isobel. But he wasn't. No.

"
He was trying to be nice to her, but he met me, and he fell in love for me. I don't know why, exactly. I sort of do. He told me. It doesn't... it doesn't even matter. But he loved me, and I killed him. And... and he knew it, too. In the end. He saw it was me. He saw me, Gwyn, he did."
She looks at her sister, and then at Corrine, and her eyes were becoming misty. "
He loved me, and he knew I killed him. He knew it."


Her voice was a whimper, faltering on the last words, and she buried her face in Gwyn's shoulder and wept softly.

Gwyn embraced Dyana and hugged her gently.

There'd be time for reassurances later. Time for appeals to faith and pragmatism, and to apply bandages to the wounds. This wasn't that time.

Dyana had held Gwyn on more than one occasion when she'd cried...that wasn't something to 'repay' exactly, but it did give her an idea of what to do. Just be quiet and let the tears roll. And eventually they'd all roll away, and then healing could start.

Corrine slowly and gingerly strokes Dyana's upper back, feeling helpless to fix the problem.

"
I suspected he was trying to have both of you, but I did not know he had confessed love for you. I am sorry, Dyana. I can only imagine how hard this is for you."


I think I have an inkling, but an eye is much less than a life.

"
I see that it pains you to have killed someone who loved you, but, as you say, you did not love him. You owed him nothing. If his high esteem for you was real, then I do not believe he would hold this accident against you. I was not his friend, but he did not strike me as a spiteful man. He had been through hellish things in his life too, which many said still haunted him. Perhaps he'd see it as a kindness, giving him peace."


Gods, Corrine, you sound stupid. That's not going to help.

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
I see that it pains you to have killed someone who loved you, but, as you say, you did not love him. You owed him nothing. If his high esteem for you was real, then I do not believe he would hold this accident against you. I was not his friend, but he did not strike me as a spiteful man. He had been through hellish things in his life too, which many said still haunted him. Perhaps he'd see it as a kindness, giving him peace."

No! No, he wouldn't! He was searching for purpose in life, and hoping that purpose could be you. And you killed him!

Dyana stayed as she were until her weeping slowly subsided, and without haste she sat up and wiped her own face, taking one or two hard breaths. Her eyes were red now, hopelessly red. "
I... it's no use trying to imagine what he would think of it. I don't believe he was grateful, or if he even had time to be anything more than... astonished. Oh, gods, it makes no difference. I have done what I have done, and now I have to live with it..."
She said in a dry tone, far too drained to begin crying again.

She did look up at her sister and cousin, though, and give them a grateful, wordless nod.

"
You are right. Conjecture is not useful. I'm sorry. I should not try to know his mind. You have every right to be upset, and to grieve, but please, try not to blame yourself. No-one would have expected that to happen with a dulled blade. It was an accident. The hand of fate can be cruel. But you are not stupid or bad for it. Gwyn and I will always be here for you, to help you get through this. However long it takes."


Corrine slid her arm around Dyana's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.