Post by Zen on Oct 5, 2019 3:27:02 GMT -5
7 turns before the start of the Pass
Treyjen Age: 19 Turns
Treyjen Age: 19 Turns
A stop in Southern Hold meant time off from work to play. Though Treyjen rather preferred to be at sea to having his boots on solid ground, the chance to get away from his father constantly breathing down his neck and blaming him for every mishap was always welcome. He, Karosh, Jusikar, and a couple other young men from the crew met up at a tavern and were several ales in, having quite a relaxing time off, when Treyjen noticed a slight commotion across the establishment. Three men had rather cornered two women, and the ladies did not look to be having a great time of it. Treyjen grinned and elbowed Karosh, “‘Ey. Anyone else gettin’ bored? Know I could go fer a good brawl.” He pushed up from his chair with his friends following and shoved himself between the men and the two young women.
“Who the shell are you?”
“Can’t say’m too terribly inclined t’introduce meself t’ya,” that got a rather confused squint from the three of them, “Now I believe these ladies’ve made it rather clear they ain’t int’rested.”
“Mind your own shardin’ business, boy.”
Treyjen grinned again, “Don’t think I will.” He threw the first punch, which sent the man reeling back as his fist connected with the man’s jaw with a loud crack. And then Treyjen’s friends jumped the other two. All Treyjen had wanted was a good bar fight, and he got one for a little while, but then the man he’d chosen for his opponent pulled a knife on him. He managed to get it away from him, but not before he’d gotten a good slash at his chest and a deeper one on his arm when he was defending his face from the blade. Outnumbered, the man’s friends ran off and left him alone, and he was quickly forced to join them.
The owner of the tavern had apparently seen the reason for the fight, the two ladies in distress as it were, and instead of kicking them out got them all a round of drinks free of charge. But Treyjen’s wounds needed seeing to, and one of the women, Vineya, offered to patch him up. She apparently had training as a healer. How fortunate for him.~~~
Sitting in a chair in Vineya’s humble little house, shirt removed as she cleaned the cut on his chest and arm, he watched her work quietly.
She sighed, “You didn’t have to go that far, you know.”
He chuckled, “Wanted ta.”
She blew out her breath, “You’re quite a reckless idiot then.”
He laughed, “Life’s more fun that way.”
She pursed her lips at that, “I’m going to need to stitch up that arm. The wound’s pretty deep. It’ll need to be kept clean if you don’t want it to get infected. That’s fun, is it?”
He shrugged, “No way those guys were gonna leave y’alone without a fight anyway.”
She eyed him, “You and your friends outnumbered them. I’m sure you could have intimidated them away.”
He laughed again, “Y’know, most people jus’say ‘thank you’.”
She applied numbweed to his arm in silence for a moment, “Thank you. You’re right. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t stepped in then, regardless of how you did it.” She threaded a surgical needle, “I don’t recommend watching the process. It upsets most people.”
“M’not most people,” Treyjen replied with a grin.
She laughed softly, “Suit yourself. Though I could imagine this isn’t the first time you’ve needed stitching up.”
“Not the first’r the last, I’d wager,” he continued to grin about it, apparently proud of the fact.
She couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculously upbeat attitude when he’d literally just been stabbed, “You’re something else, Treyjen.”
He winked, “Get that a lot.”
She stifled a giggle, “I can believe that as well. Though I never said you were a good something else.”
“See I took that as liberty t’interpret it however I like,” he replied, shooting her another grin.
She shook her head and steadied her hand to set to work, “This isn’t going to go very well if you continue to make me laugh. Hush now so I can focus.”
“That’s too bad, I been rather enjoyin’ yer laugh,” his gaze flicked to the cut in his arm where she had started pulling the needle through, but numbweed kept him from feeling it.
She hesitated as a light blush crept over her face, “Ah… well… th-thank you.” She continued, focusing quite pointedly on his wound.
He watched her face for a moment, “Can’t say m’not enjoying yer face, though. Yer so intense while y’work.”
She hesitated again and huffed in frustration, “While I appreciate the flattery, now is really not the time, Treyjen.”
He chuckled and shifted carefully to sit back without moving his arm too much, “A’right.”
After a few moments of silence, she spoke again, “So where are you from?”
“The Lokarra,” he replied, with a certain fondness in his tone.
“The… you were born on a ship?” her brow furrowed in curiosity and concentration.
He laughed, “May’s well’ve been.” He waved his free hand, “Not born, but raised. I’ve spent far more time at sea’n on land. S’pose the family’s from Tillek if that’s what yer after.”
“Tillek is some ways… you must work on a trading ship?”
“Aye,” he confirmed, “Been all over Pern and not a single piece’a land’s been more home t’me than the Lokarra.”
“I see…. Don’t you miss your family in Tillek?” she cast a quick glance up at his face.
He made a displeased noise at that, which surprised her, “My father owns the ship and the whole family sails, other’n one brother, anyway.”
She seemed surprised, “Even your mother? I thought sailors didn’t generally like women on ships.”
“Aye, she sails with us. Makes meals’n cleans clothes, mostly, sometimes helps mend sails. My sister too.”
“I see why the ship is home enough for you then,” she said thoughtfully, finishing up her work and cutting the surgical thread off. She eyed the slash on his chest consideringly, but the bleeding had already mostly stopped so it was clearly not terribly deep like the one in his arm had been.
“Has nothin’ t’do with my family bein’ there,” he growled, and she looked up at his face again.
But they’d just met and it didn’t seem right to pry. Instead she fetched bandages and set about applying some to his chest, wrapping it around his shoulder so it would hold, which was always a bit of an awkward process, “You probably won’t need to keep the chest bandage on too long, but just to be safe….”
“If y’wanna touch me y’just gotta say so,” he replied with another of his cocky grins.
She stopped altogether and nearly dropped the bandages, her face going red again, “W-will you stop that? You’re… making it very hard to work.”
He laughed and let her finish, feeling her fumble a bit as she continued. He tilted his head slightly to look up at her, “M’not makin’ y’too uncomfortable, am I? S’not my intent.”
She paused to look down at him, surprised again, “Ah… n-no… you’re just very… distracting.”
Another short laugh escaped him at that, “S’pose I’ll let y’finish b’fore I flirt, then.”
Her face returned to red, but she did her best not to react otherwise as she also placed a bandage carefully over his stitches to keep them from snagging. But her face remained rather red the entire time. “Th-there you are. Try to ah, keep it dry for the next day or two. If you need the bandages changed, you can… come back. I’ll do it for you.” She picked up his shirt and frowned at it where it had been slashed.
“A’right then. Thanks fer yer help,” he watched her eyeing his shirt for a moment, “I don’t hafta put it back on, y’know.”
“Wh-,” she turned back to him and it took her just a moment to realize what he meant. It seemed she was just going to be permanently red tonight, “Th-that’s not… I… I’ll wash and mend it for you.”
He waved his hand, “S’not a big deal.”
“I know how to get blood out of clothing,” she insisted.
He smirked, “Y’must really not want me t’put it back on.”
“That’s not what I mean at all!” she shook the shirt at him for emphasis, though she was so red she was about glowing.
He had a good laugh at that, “A’right, y’can wash it if yer gonna be so insistent.”
She looked ready to argue, as though expecting him to hurl back some other insinuating comment, and was rather surprised when he didn’t. She cleared her throat, “Well. Alright then. I’ll do that. It, ah, won’t take long.”
“Mmhm,” he raised an eyebrow at her, smirk still in place on his lips.
She whirled around to set up for washing before he could say anything more about her supposed desire to keep him shirtless. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to seeing shirtless men. It was Southern, after all, and the heat pervaded turn-round. Men walked about shirtless for most of their lives, it seemed, other than special occasions. But since she’d begun living on her own, she couldn’t exactly say she’d had one in her house before that wasn’t just there for her services as a healer. And certainly not one that constantly flirted with her as Treyjen was doing.
She focused pointedly on the work, hoping not to encourage more of his distracting, frustrating flirting, “Would you like to stay for dinner? Fixing you up and feeding you seems the least I can do.”
“I’d like that,” he replied, simply enough, without any added innuendo, that she looked over at him in surprise.
His eyes were closed and he was leaned back in his chair, looking far too relaxed for a person that got stabbed not too long ago. What a strange man he was. She felt the heat rising in her face again as her gaze traced over his chest, annoyed that his arrogance was somewhat justified, being that she did indeed find him attractive. She quickly turned back to her washing before he could open his eyes and find her staring. She was sure he would have plenty to say about it if he did.
After she’d gotten the shirt as clean as it was going to get, she hung it up in a window to dry out while she started on dinner for the two of them, and was surprised again when he offered to help. Considering that she was doing this to thank him for his help earlier, she refused, but the conversation had started up between them again. He flirted plenty more, even through dinner, but he left afterward, once she mended the rip in this shirt, with her reminder to come back if he needed his bandages changed or had any pain.
Over the next several days he continued to visit her, neither for bandages nor pain, and his last night at Southern before his ship left the harbor, she invited him to stay with her. Perhaps it was reckless, but he made her want to be reckless.
Just once.
tovaana