[Nine] The Return

[Jabberwoky]

An old wher roamed the halls in the darkest hours of quiet, when many handlers were cycling shifts or grabbing a quick bite. With a missing toe, and an old rusted collar, he lumbered through each corridor, sniffing for a certain room.

He found the weyr he wanted, pushing the door open. Quiet, empty, but it smelled like the person he wanted to stay with. He went over to the spot he could smell another wher had slept, and he finally let himself lie down and fall into a quiet sleep.

This would be one hell of a surprise when Ronnie and Onisk returned from their shift.

[nineofswords]

There was nothing quite like a long shift, one where Ronnie really had to push herself, one where she had to push Onisk to as well. It wore her out, but in a deeply satisfying way. She was returning to her weyr to change and get Onisk settled before she got herself a glass of wine and had a good long soak in the baths. She'd more than earned it.

Before they got there, though, Onisk stopped right in front of Ronica, her head cocked to one side. Wher in weyr, she said.

Ronnie frowned. That was odd. More than odd, really. "No handler with them?" she asked.

No.

"Do you know who...no, nevermind, forgive my foolishness," Ronnie said. Onisk's memory was more like a dragon's in some ways. Not entirely, but people (and whers) tended to slip her mind if she didn't see them every day. Ronnie could tell through their link that the scent was not a new one to Onisk, so she shrugged, unworried, and stepped around Onisk into their Weyr. Onisk let her, now that she'd relayed the presence of someone in their room.

The moment Ronnie saw exactly which wher it was, however, she froze. She looked away from the wher, made herself small so she wouldn't seem like a threat, and slowly backed back out of the room. "Hello there," she said, keeping her voice soft and quiet. "I remember you. What are you doing here? You made quite a mess the last time you were around. Which is understandable, you were stressed and hurt and surrounded by people you didn't know. Did you come here to get that collar off? We can certainly help you with that, and get you some food, but neither of those things can happen here. Incidentally, it is quite rude to enter a lady's room without her knowledge or permission. You're lucky that Onisk and I no longer consider ourselves proper Holdbred girls, but another person might find this to be something of an intrusion, especially given what you did to that poor candidate's arm. She's on the mend, she'll keep the arm. I'm not entirely sure if that matters to you or not, but I thought I'd share it regardless."

Ronnie was mostly talking because that's what she did, but she hoped this wher, semi-feral as he was, could understand her to a degree. Onisk, sensing her unease, got closer to Ronnie. Not in front of her, not yet - not until there were obvious signs of hostility from this wher - but close enough that it would be easy to dart in front and guard her partner.

[Jabberwoky]

The old brown clearly did not care about whether it was proper or not. He creaked as he sat up, slow and steady. He understood her, of course, as he understood the surprise of him being in the room. Not that he really cared, he was too old for much of that.

He rumbled low. He wanted the collar off, but it was very clear he was not actually leaving Fort. Ronnie was stuck with him now.

[nineofswords]

Ronnie stared at the brown, trying to understand him. He was in her weyr. He wasn't being aggressive, but he wasn't leaving either, even though she'd given him ample room to leave. The growl didn't sound aggressive, and Onisk wasn't moving into a defensive stance which just reinforced her instinct. It hit her all at once. "Oh Faranth," she said. "You don't want to bond to me, do you, my brown friend? I'm certainly flattered, but...well, life at a Weyr is a bit different from yours to be sure. I have responsibilities here, one's you'd be expected to help carry out. And it's not just me, either, it's Onisk and she's certainly wonderful but she is a tad odd. And my parents aren't exactly in the picture these days, but they're still my parents, and they're frustrating to say the least. I can't say they'll approve of you, which may not concern you, but it'll be something we'll both have to deal with. And then of course there's me. I flirt and like to dress up when I'm not working, which you might find tiresome, silly and frivolous. Not that you can't walk away whenever you want, but I feel it's fair to give you all the information first."

She looked at the wher in her room. He was old. The collar was like a punch to her gut every time she saw it on him, and coupled with those scars she just wanted to go out and throttle whoever had done this. She hoped the eye had been lost after his escape, but she couldn't be sure. And despite all of that, he was proud. He knew his mind. He was a survivor. It was admirable. And after all of it, he deserved love. Ronnie was certainly not afraid to give that to him.

She took out her knife and cut her hand open, kneeling down and holding it out to him. "If you're alright with all of that, though, then I'm happy to bring you into this little family. If I'm way off the mark, you're welcome to laugh at me, and I'll see to it you get that collar off and a decent meal in you before sending you off on your way. But I'm afraid unless you bond to me, I am going to have to ask you to leave my weyr, if only because having strange men in my room is not the best for my peace of mind as I'm sure you understand."

[Jabberwoky]

Finally.

The old guard lumbered slowly to her, a far cry from how angry and fast he had been when trapped in the wilds. An old wher, one who just wanted to retire, that's all he was. He didn't care too much about what she was saying, he just wanted a home again after decades on decades of being alone.

He pushed his face into her bloody hand, and just let himself connect to someone.

He was home.

[nineofswords]

Even when she'd cut her hand, part of her hadn't really been expecting him to step into the bond. And certainly not with the slowness he was exhibiting now. But as soon as he pressed his face into her hand and solidified the bond, she could tell why.

There was a weariness to him, bone deep, both physical and emotional. She could feel the phantom aches in his joints. Faranth. Was that what it was like getting old? It was so strange, bonding to this brown, bonding to someone older than she was. She'd known Onisk all of Onisk's life, but she had no idea what had happened to this brown before Fort Weyr's handlers and a few candidates had freed him from the plants. Strange, but right in its own way. She wrapped her arms around the scarred brown, giving him a hug. She felt him stiffen slightly, but he didn't push her away, and through their bond it felt more like surprise than anything else. "You've got us, now," she told him firmly.
She was not going to cry, she told herself firmly, even as her eyes watered slightly.

Onisk crept closer and gave him a sniff. Am Onisk, she greeted, giving him a shy, gentle headbutt on the side he could see her out of. He couldn't easily sniff her back with Ronnie's arms around his neck, but he looked at her, which was about as much acknowledgement as he seemed capable of, or perhaps willing to give in that moment.

"Right," Ronnie said, releasing the wher and getting back to her feet. "I need to bandage myself up. Then of course, there's the matter of getting you food. I suppose it's not quite so important as for a hatchling, but we should still line that belly of yours. Then we'll track someone down to get that horrid collar off you. Though there's a chance that might have to wait until the morning. Which reminds me, we'll also need to get you a set of goggles so you can comfortably go out in the daytime if need be." She bustled into her room, quickly tying a bandage around her hand as she thought aloud. "Hmmm...a bath might also be in order for you, my dear man. We'll get you nice, shiny, and clean-looking, make you look properly presentable." As with everything else, he had very little reaction to that, but Ronnie knew he understood her, and he didn't seem overly adverse to the idea.

She left her weyr, one hand on each of her bonds. The brown was more than a little touch-starved, but not quite willing to lean into her touch, yet. He was still...unsure. Still feeling everything about this out. That was fine. As long as he didn't outright object, she'd initiate the touching. "We'll need to speak to my squad leader, of course. Do let me know if there's ever anything you don't think you can do, we wouldn't want to push you too hard and injure yourself." His exhaustion worried her a bit. "Perhaps we'll ask to be put on limited duties, just until you get used to how things work here, my dear man." She winced. "I should also probably write to that candidate you bit, give her a heads up you're at the Weyr now so that she doesn't stumble across you without warning." She turned to Onisk. "Anything else you can think of for our newest family member, my darling?"

Onisk cocked her head, thinking a moment. Name, she finally said.

"Oh! Oh of course, how silly of me, of course our dear older gentleman here needs a name." She gave it thought. She didn't hear the brown in her head, no clear voice the way she did Onisk. She didn't know if that was because he was simply older, if the bond was weaker, or he just had no desire to speak, but she could still feel his presence. And as she considered the options, she could feel the one he seemed to like best, even if he himself didn't speak. "Osk?" she asked aloud, just to be certain, and the brown rumbled in what struck her as a particularly approving way.

Is good, Onisk agreed.

"Then Osk you shall be," Ronnie agreed, patting his hide where she was resting her hand on him. "Right. Food. Collar. Bath." She was not getting her glass of wine in the baths tonight, but that was alright. She had a new family member to settle in, after all, one who would likely need a tender - if firm - hand. Luckily, she felt up to the task. She wouldn't have offered to let him bond to her if she didn't think she could handle him. She hadn't realized how ancient he would be, of course, or that he wouldn't speak to her. But these were not deal breakers for her. Ronnie could be patient with him. And despite not talking, she was certain he'd let her know if he ever felt like she was ignoring his needs. They could be good for each other, she felt. And if nothing else, they could give him companionship, which he clearly craved. And if nothing else, Onisk and Ronica could give him that.