fighting_mad | [OOM] Eiattu

[OOM] Eiattu - Infirmary

Plourr is thoroughly sick of floating in pink goo. There is bacta, she thinks, trapped in her sinuses. She's just thankful that she was unconscious for the first few days. As it is, after four days with nothing to do but float, heal, sleep, and stare at the tubes running in and out of herself, she is going out of her mind. Rial visits, though, and that helps make it bearable; he talks to her even if she can't hear a word she's saying. For the first few days, when she's in and out of consciousness, she only has one memory, of him laughing as he says something. When she's more with it, they carry on a few conversations, Rial with gestures and inaudible words, Plourr with a range of facial expressions that is fairly impressive considering that the breathing apparatus is covering most of her face.

Still, she is going mad with boredom. So when the tech appears and points upward, and she hears someone pulling the top off of the tank, she is kicking upward even before she's told to.

A shower, a robe, some new bandages, and a whole lot of mouthwash later, she begins to feel halfway human again. She tests her body, her muscles, as the techs usher her around. Her arm is in a combination cast-sling--the cast is a noxious, horrible shade of bright green. somebody thinks they're really funny--and her right shoulder--which had had a low-set vibroblade taken to it--wrapped up in bandages. Her ribs are wrapped, too, and they're still aching; enough that she doesn't complain too much when the staff insist on the repulsorchair. Her knee is in a brace but she's not too concerned about that one; it's an old injury that tends to recur if she twists her knee. Her face, from what she can tell, is largely healed; they've taped up a few cuts on her fast left by shrapnel or nobles' rings and the majority of the swelling and bruising has gone down, leaving her eyes bright and clear.

When she's ushered into the hall outside the private medbay room, Plourr talks the tech into letting her get out of the chair and take the last few steps by herself.

"A few hours, Princess," the tech reminds her, removing the chair. "Then you've got to go back in."

"Yeah, yeah," she says impatiently, and--with one hand on the doorway for balance--she steps through the door.

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Rial's there, waiting for her with an anxious sort of grin on his face. There's something in his hand, too, hidden behind his back, and he's leaning against the wall in an attempt to hide it.

"Hey," he says, and his eyes sweep up and down her form. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Then his grin is wider and he steps forward, kissing her gently, holding her with the hand not occupied by hiding behind his back.

Plourr rests her hand on his neck and leans into him, and he's comforting and solid and warm and Rial (and the last is the main selling point), and she doesn't particularly want to let go of him.

So she doesn't.

Well, that's just fine with him! So Rial holds her, buries his nose in her hair and stays like that.

Until, at least, he turns away and sneezes, smiling at her. "You smell like bacta."

She shuffles closer, the knee brace ruining any chance for stealthy movement, and she carefully stretches her arm around his neck. When her shoulder doesn't protest too much, she relaxes and grins at him. "And you don't taste like it. It's astral."

"I," he informs her, "taste like sunshine and roses. I brushed my teeth just for you."

She laughs softly into his neck, swaying into him -- and then she opens her eyes and peers sneakily over his shoulder.

Oooh. Sneaky. But Rial thought ahead! The mysterious object is wrapped carefully in a handkerchief.

Plourr will just have to try harder.

"You seem to be missing a hand," she hints not-so-subtly.

"Oh, so I am."

Rial brings the hand out from behind his back, grinning at her. "So. It's typical to bring presents to the ailing, right? And I know you're missing something...want it?"

She frowns in thought, unsure of what it could be, and then she smiles brightly, suddenly, at him. "Yes." She tips her head toward the two chairs set up in a corner of the small room, and she takes one small step toward them. "Lend a hand?"

"Of course."

He proffers his free arm, half-bowing.

"I would curtsey," she says, "but--" She gestures at the knee brace and takes his arm. Plourr leaning on Rial and moving in that odd sort of shuffle that being unable to bend one's knee necessitates, they make their way across the room and he helps her into a seat. Once she's settled, she looks up at him, one hand settled on her knee, and she raises an eyebrow.

Rial hands over the handkerchief-wrapped object, and beams in anticipation.

It's another leather band, similar to the one she had before, with a slightly darker bluestone and a narrower band, but the dagger is there and as sharp as her last one.

And this one has, on the inside, a small line of writing.

Keep fighting

-Rial

Plourr sets the little bundle in her lap and unwraps it with her good hand.

"--Oh."

She picks up the band and turns it over in her fingers, studying it quietly, and so it is that she notices the Aurebesh lettering etched into the inside of the band. A small exhalation and she looks up.

"You have good eyes, to notice I wasn't wearing mine." Ignoring the twinge in her ribs, she leans forward and clasps his hand with hers, still holding the band tightly. "Thank you. I hated to lose it more than anything."

Rial shrugs, and his smile is quiet, eyes fixed on their hands. "They showed it to me, as proof of your capture."

And then he glances up, smile a little stronger, "but you're here now. And this on, I think, may be slightly more appreciated then the last."

A lot has changed, anyway.

Oh, she says without saying a word, and her mouth tightens. "Good thing they're dead, then." They should be glad they are. If she'd known at the time that they had twisted that symbol of Rial's love for her like that ... well, it wouldn't have changed a thing. She hadn't had the time for dirty work. But if they'd survived and she'd known--

"Rial," she says suddenly, "Rial, the base was razed to the ground, right?"

Rial's eyes meet her own, and they're hard. "If you hadn't killed them, I would have."

Then he nods, face relaxing again. "It's gone. Why?"

She has never seen him look quite like that before; not even on that day that seems like it was ages ago. She nods briefly, squeezing his hand, and then she begins to smile. It requires effort, at first, but it quickly takes on a life of its own.

"Do you know what that means?"

Rial cocks his head on one side, smile faintly bewildered.

"What does it mean?"

"It's over," she says. She can't quite believe it herself, but -- it's true.

"All of it."

...and that takes a second to absorb, and then Rial smiles and it's a real smile.

"You're right."

"I thought they might have others, but Aronnse told me that they didn't. I'd guess that he was lying, but what's the point in lying to a dead woman?" She watches their hands a moment, her thumb stroking the back of his hand, a tiny smile playing across her lips. She looks up. "That base was their last stronghold.

"It's over."

"It's over," he repeats, and that's just it.

Then he frowns, suddenly thinking of something, and "What about Hilunda? Did he manage to get out safely?"

She frowns. "Wait, what? The shuttle didn't pick him up with me?"

Rial shakes his head. "They said they saw someone waving, but when they got there, it was just you."

His frown deepens, "Why wouldn't he stay?"

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