Threading the Needle (Sama'el)

[Dymphna]

Her arm wrapped about his torso, helping to steady him as they moved along. She watched his movements carefully as they went, taking in any little bit of information they would give away. He’d wobbled a little when he glanced, and she was quick to pick up on it. Though she wanted to frown, she gave him a reassuring smile. “I know so,” she answered sweetly. “I have as much faith in you as I do in the seasons changing. And I want to help in whatever way I can.” Ideally by providing the many children part… She blinked at that thought. For a moment it looked like maybe she was going to topple over, too. And it scared her a little that she actually meant what she was thinking. Leading him into the Whitefeathers’ pavilion, she opted against the room reserved for the ill, and instead moved to guide him to the family’s sleeping area. There were others around, but she didn’t really take much notice of them. Once he was down though, she took a good look around before putting a little girl next to him. “Kita, talk to Sam while I go make him some tea, please… He hit his head.” And with that Dymphna scurried off to gather the proper herbs for Sam’s tea, leaving him in the care of a ruddy-faced brunette child, five-years-old at the oldest, who was quick to exclaim, “Hi! You need a blanket.” Another healer in training, she moved to cover him with a fur before patting his shoulder.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Everything that Dymphna said just made the reeling a little more pronounced, though not in an entirely negative way. It was more comfortable inside with the dimmer light, the warmth, and the little telltale signals of a family; scents, sounds, feelings. The vague undulation of Dymphna's hips under her skirts as she walked away hypnotized him such that he looked at her as if she had appeared out of nowhere. But she came out of nowhere bearing blankets, so she was all right in his book. "Thanks," he said, though it sounded almost like a question. "I'm Sam. I hit my head. But before that," he was quick to assure her, "I was very impressive. Very impressive." It was suddenly very important that Kita understand that his novice horseback acrobatic tricks were worth the blow to the head.

[Dymphna]

“Sam hit his head,” Dymphna quietly explained to no one in particular and anyone willing to listen at the same time. She bent down, opening up the trunk of jarred herbs that the family kept, digging for just the right mixes of grasses and seeds. Whipseed… Oriel gra… No… Her face screwed up in annoyance at her own indecision. Typically she had a clear enough mind to figure out the perfect mixture right away. It seemed Sam’s head injury was affecting her own brain, too. Eventually, though, she decided on the right mix. Standing up, she moved to the table, working to portion things out in the proper manner. One parts this. Two parts that. Another of this… They were removed from the bowl and put into the little linen bag for steeping. A cup was grabbed, the sack shoved in, continuously heated (but mind you, not boiling) water was poured, and… She paused, considering what the mixture tasted like. There was a glance about to see if anyone was watching her before she put a touch of honey into the cup, though it was typically saved for children refusing to drink whatever they were given. Meanwhile Nurse Kita was sitting next to Sam, nodding as empathically. Whether the five-year-old had developed empathy or she’d just learned the proper expression from watching the adults was questionable. “I heard that you were doing tricks,” she said in a soothing little voice before patting his hand. She then reached down, put a small finger on his eyelid, and bent down as she pulled it back to get a closer look at his eye… Likely another thing she’d learned from watching, and not really understanding what she was looking for. “Dymphna talks about you in her sleep, and sometimes father wakes up to tell her to shut up.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Turning tricks on horseback," he admitted. "I mean, doing tricks. On horseback. Yes." He blinked several times at the unexpected air on his eyeball. "I want my baby to have eyes. I mean, if I ever have a baby. Or a wife who has a baby, you know." Given a tolerant audience, he was prone to babble in this state and she didn't seem likely to stop him. But she said things too, and when they did manage to sink in, he looked at her, wincing at a twinge of pain but ignoring it all the same. He had latched onto something. "Does she say... nice things about me in her sleep or...? Things like, 'Sam is stupid. I don't like Sam'?"

[Dymphna]

“Shh, don’t move. You likely have a concuffion.” Kita moved from his eyes to looking up his nose. Then she went to check the pulse in his neck. She paused, thinking, before saying, “You may never have babies because of it.” She nodded before leaning back, patting his hand. After a moment she got very, very serious, a little too serious for a little girl. “Dymphna used to cry at night in her sleep. But now she laughs and says your name, and I don’t know what she’s talking about, but she sounds happy. I like Dymphna happy. She plays dolls with me more.” It was after that monologue that Dymphna reappeared with a cup of medicine for Sam. She grinned brightly at her little sister, and asked, “Did you take care of Sam well, Kita?” “Yes, may I go play now?” Her older sister nodded before moving over to Sam, and sitting down. “Here,” she said quietly as his junior nurse ran off singing to herself. Slipping closer, she gently eased Sam’s head onto her lap before holding the cup to him in offering. “Drink this… How are you feeling?”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam's hands very nearly shot down to give his bits a very thorough self-examination in order to prove that they would still make babies if the occasion arose, but he managed to silently assure himself that a blow to the head could not make him sterile, his dreams of a pavilion all for naught. Besides, the little tidbits of secret information that Kita dropped made his insides melt. He wondered if he said her name and laughed in his sleep. Nobody had said anything about it yet. The spell of reverie was broken by Kita first, and as she ran off, he muttered to himself that he could still have babies if he wanted, but that was quickly forgotten too as Dymphna pulled his head into her lap. It hurt a bit, but she was quite gentle, and her lap a place he was most desirous of being. "Is it going to taste bad?" he asked, much like a child for whom things required honey to be palatable, but he dutifully drank it and even managed to smile. "It's sweet." Of course, he was looking up into Dymphna's soulful eyes when he said it. Perhaps what he really meant was 'you're sweet'.

[Dymphna]

“What was that about babies?” she asked, sounding a little confused. Her careful eyes took in his facial expression as she moved him, the healer-in-denial’s mind making notes of each little flinch or grimace. It was harder with Sam, though, because he was distractingly handsome. “Oh, yes, I put a bit of honey into it for you… The anti-inflammatory within it is very bitter.” She gave him a shy smile, a hand lifting up to stroke her fingertips across his temple before gently starting to run circles against it. Her other hand dutifully ran its fingers through his hair, taking great care not to hit any suspected sore spot. “You deserve nothing but sweetness,” she said softly.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Kita said something about me never having babies because of the egg on my head," he complained, "but I think she was only joking. She's nice, your sister." He dutifully drank the rest of the anti-inflammatory, then gently flailed a bit trying to figure out if he should hand her back the cup or set it aside. To hide that and how her hand in his hair and the sweetness of her words made his insides squirm, he asked her questions. After all, he had earned some money gathering herbs around Syliras and previous to that, but he didn't really have the training someone of the Opal Clan would. "What's in it?" he asked. "I hardly remember the local herbs. I wish I could remember the song my Nana taught all us children so we would know to harvest something if we came across it." That little tidbit of history was shared, so the fall must have temporarily disabled his internal censors.

[Dymphna]

She grinned, shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back the giggle over her littlest sister’s medical conclusions. There was a slow nod. “I once cut my thumb making dinner, and Kita told me that I was going to grow a penis because of it. She just turned five, and she’s not touched by the goddess, so I wouldn’t put too much stock into her medical wisdom for another few years...” She looked to the cup, considering what she’d put into it. There was a tiny smile on her lips, one that was reserved for when she talked about herbs. It was a weird passion, perhaps, but the twinkle in her eyes couldn’t be denied. “Oh… One part Yvas Grass, one part Fickle Berry, and two parts Diadem.” She went back to playing with his hair.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Just because they lived in a crazy world, just because one never really knew, he turned his head a bit, eyes rolling to search out her hands. He just wanted to be sure he hadn't missed a penis masquerading as a finger; that would be awkward, coiled among his hair, which curled this shortly cropped. Half-satisfied, he settled back to enjoy her touch as much as he could despite the touch of nausea lurking just beyond actual sensation. "Yvas grass, that's... all right. What do fickle berries look like?" Her smile he found enchanting, and so he tried to keep his consciousness in line by learning more about what she loved. Otherwise he would be racked by a combination of his minor head trauma and an unhelpful tumescence in his pants.