Seizing the Moment... Finally

The pressure of Nairn’s hand on hers reminded Megara to breathe, grounding her as she sank to the floor. She could feel her pulse thumping rapidly against her skin, an anxious rhythm mirroring her own uncertainty. Ruth’s body lay between them, his spasming limbs jerking uncontrollably in the aftermath of his seizure. While Nairn checked for a pulse, Megara’s hands moved with practised care, gently guiding each trembling limb straight. Her fingers brushed against his bare arms, still twitching under her touch, and she could feel the unnatural heat radiating off his body. It wasn’t just feverish it was scorching, an intense heat that whispered of something more than just exertion or illness.

As the seizure faded, Ruth’s body went limp, and his chest rose and fell in faint, stuttering breaths. Megara’s eyes followed each fragile lift of it, her heart tightening at the erratic pattern. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his face, his hair soaked and clinging to his pale skin, making him look ghostly under the dim lights. Determination set in her jaw, she placed her palms against him, calling on her magic to reach within, to probe into his body and uncover what she suspected but dreaded.

Warmth radiated from her palms as her magic poured into him, a light that flared and pulsed as it travelled through his veins, like streams of sunlight infiltrating a dark forest. She let her magic sink deeper, hoping to find what was poisoning him, what had him gasping shallowly and seizing on a dance floor. Her connection brushed against his heart, and her pulse quickened at the feel of the uneven and irregularity of it. This was no simple ailment.

A curse escaped her lips, a mixture of fury and fear as her mind raced to piece together the fragments of what her magic was sensing. She bit back her anger, glancing to Nairn with wide eyes, her voice coming out a rough, urgent whisper. He- Back room. Now. Even before Nairn moved to lift him, Megara’s fingers were already fumbling with the buttons of Ruth’s shirt, her gaze fixed on the centre of his chest, This. This is bad.

As Nairn hefted Ruth's body with careful strength, Meg followed, her heart a storm of anger, sorrow, but mostly a gnawing worry. The tension in her shoulders mounted with each step across the dance floor, the hum of the party lost beneath the pounding of her heartbeat. She barely noticed the stares of the guests, their faces turning briefly before parting ways for the rescue. Megara only had eyes for Ruth’s unconscious form as they slipped behind the band and into the small, dimly lit resting room that was far removed from the band picking back up.

Nairn laid Ruth down on a couch and Meg sank down beside him, her hands already hovering over his chest as she peeled the fabric away from his skin, revealing a chest marred by faint scars and the jutting lines of ribs from years of neglect. She could feel his heart fighting to beat beneath her hands, each erratic pulse like the stumble of someone on the edge of collapse.

Settling herself, Meg closed her eyes, letting her magic flow again, deeper this time, touching on the old wounds, the bruised and worn tissue that spoke of long-term damage. She could feel the threads of addiction woven through his body, their influence etched into his heart, liver, his very bones. The magic she sensed was faint and erratic, traces of lyrium lingering like a poison within him, mingling with the sharp, acrid taste of alcohol abuse that had warped him over time. Sylaise offered her own assessment, leaving Megara reeling, clenching her jaw tightly. Her heart ached as she realised how deeply the abuse had run, how hard he must have pushed himself just to keep standing. He’d always complained that he was tired… and she’d always brushed it off as nothing.

Slowly, her eyes opened, her gaze softened with both understanding and regret. She whispered to him, her voice low, as if he could somehow hear her through the haze of his unconsciousness. You damn fool, Ruth… you’ve been killing yourself.

She placed her hands firmly on his bare chest, a wave of healing light blossoming from her palms, infusing into his body with a steady, gentle pulse. The air grew thick with a warm, soft glow, beads of light hanging in the air as she concentrated, forcing her magic into the core of him, knitting the broken pieces that she could, soothing the inflamed tissue that had suffered too long. She focused on his heart, coaxing each beat to find a steadier rhythm, a pattern that would hold.

Sweat beaded on her brow as she worked, her energy pouring into him, relentless and unyielding. She wouldn’t let him die here, not like this, not in some back room of what was supposed to be their happiest day. You still have a speech to make, idiot. The path of recovery would be his to walk, but she would drag him back to his feet first, fully aware that she was not going to be the only one to give him an earful.

As her power ebbed, she opened her eyes, finding Nairn watching her quietly. She met his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper, the exhaustion of the day beginning to hit. After I’ve stabilized him… it’s the infirmary for him. He’s not going to be conscious for a while and he’s going to need monitoring until he does.

@Nairn Neirdre
@Theodora Oridotti

Nairn moved Ruth, and settled in a corner of the room. Silent, stoic. He looked, outwardly, as if he didn't care a thing about the man in front of him, fighting for his life. His gaze flickered to his wife, as she worked over their old friend.

Eventually, she looked across the room at him, and Nairn dipped his head. I'll sit with him, then. He pushed away from the wall, coming to sit next to the couch, beside of his wife. He'd slip an arm around her, Take what you need, to keep him stable, he murmured, against Megara's ear. His magic was unreliable, untrained, but she'd been working with him.

He's gotta get clean, doesn't he? He murmured, glancing to the man on the couch, he almost seemed to be asleep, if it wasn't obvious how his heart and breath kept stuttering. Hope I was right about you, Theodora. He clicked his tongue, 'cause that won't be easy. And he likely won't be nice about it. And Dora wouldn't be able to leave, if she chose to stay by his side, without harming his recovery.

Nairn had little doubts that Ruth wouldn't try to push them all away, though. His nostrils flared, as he thought the repercussions of this event.

@Theodora Oridotti

The tall elf beat her to scooping Ruth up, and she went to follow along quickly, stopping on the edge of the dance floor to hold up a hand, Ah, enjoy the food, the drink, and keep dancing, we just need... a minute. She hurried back behind the back, barking at them to start playing, as she ducked into the room in time to hear Meg's assessment, her lips set in a thin line as she kept an eye on the door. She hated the way her mind worked at times, but she knew that now would be the perfect time to launch an attack, if anyone wanted too. So she did what she knew best, and kept guard. She listened to the two of them, her heart aching for them both.

She hazarded a look at Ruth, her mind already starting to work. As soon as she knew if Meg was keeping him from fleeing to the Fade, she would be able to sit, for now though, she tried to keep to the edge of the room, silent, and still. I ain't one to shy away from a challenge. Even when it's him. It was a quiet but resolute.

@Megara Neirdre
@Nairn Neirdre

As Megara finished her initial work, she could feel Nairn’s steady presence beside her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. She leaned into him briefly, letting the warmth and solidity of him anchor her as her hands rested on Ruth’s chest, her magic still flowing steadily. His breath was still shallow, each rise and fall of his chest a struggle, but her healing light kept his heart in its fragile rhythm.

We’ll all sit with him until the other healers get here, she murmured, glancing at Nairn’s stoic profile. His expression was guarded, but she could see the depth of his worry in the slight tension around his eyes. It was a look she knew well, a mask that hid the intensity beneath.

He has to. Or he’s dead. She inhaled deeply, focusing her magic in her palms and calling on her training to summon a vision of Ruth’s heart. With a grim determination, she projected the hollowed image into the air between them - a beating replica of his damaged heart, translucent and delicate, glowing faintly as it floated.

It was impossible to miss the misshapen organ’s swollen state, inflamed and bloated to twice its natural size. The walls of his heart looked stiff, hardened, as if they were struggling against themselves with every beat. The veins and arteries around it were strained and pulsing weakly, evidence of the long-term toll Ruth’s addiction had taken.

Megara swallowed, her gaze dark as she met Nairn’s eyes. If he keeps going like this… he might end up like you, she whispered, barely above a breath. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp with the weight of truth.

She leaned further forward, her fingers moving to Ruth’s temples as she felt for the traces of his consciousness. Meg could feel the craving that pulsed through his thoughts. The gnawing need for alcohol, an ache that had burrowed into the very core of him, clawing him from the inside. She realised the seizure had been triggered by the sudden absence of it, his body rebelling against the lack of what it had grown so dependent on.

With a low sigh, she pulled herself back to the present, releasing her hold on his mind and letting her hands fall into her lap. He’s more dependent than I thought. Without it, his body just… shut down. The seizure was his system’s way of revolting. We’ll need to keep a close watch… every step of this will be a battle.

A small, humourless smile touched Megara’s lips as she nodded along with Nairn. No, he won’t. Ruth will fight us. He’ll try to push us all away if we ambush him. She sighed, a bitter warmth in her voice. Every one of us is going to stay though, but I think it’s best we give our lectures after I explain everything to him. We can’t choose sobriety for him. It’ll be his own choice ultimately.

The steady rise and fall of Ruth’s breath was the only sound in the room as they waited, silent yet united, for the other healers to arrive.

@Nairn Neirdre
@Theodora Oridotti

Nairn tightened his hold on his wife, watching as she created a holo projection. He exhaled softly, Mmm, there's not enough room for two tick-tock hearts in this family. Nairn joked, softly. The joke was hollow, though. He didn't want his friend to deal with the mechanical heart; it wasn't perfect, it was more dangerous than he'd ever acknowledge, and it hurt more than he'd ever let on.

He reached to claim one of her hands, carefully threading their fingers together, as he studied Ruth. Hopefully he makes a good decision, he muttered. He rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb, sighing. I'm not much use here, ma vhenan. Not right now, while he's asleep. And even when he woke, all Nairn could do was fuss over him.

He could hear people at the door, and he pressed a kiss to Megara's temple, before he moved to stand. Coterie healers and Arlathan healers were lined up outside, when he pulled the door opened.

He chuckled wryly, and stepped out of the way of a stretcher, carried by Arlathan elves.

@Theodora Oridotti

Dora's eyes fell on the hollow, used to the magic Meg used to create them by now, her eyes taking in everything, committing everything to memory in that moment, the walls and veins, even as they moved, were dying, he was dying in that moment, the image hanging there in the air was enough of a confirmation of that as anything.

Moments ago she had been elated to finally admit aloud that she had grown fond of him, now she was looking at his ending.

She turned slightly, to offer Meg and Nairn a moment, her brain already starting to put pieces together on how she was going to have to make two hearts -- and that would involve her making sure she designed it correctly this time -- not like the one that had been crudely shoved into Nairn's chest all those years ago, that still had the faint hiss she could hear as the one gear turned, that sat in his chest in such a fashion that one good blow would end him and not even she would be able to help fast enough.

Now she would be building two, and the thoughts that she had been putting together over the past few weeks were starting to solidify because now it wasn't just about money, it was about ...

Well, it was bigger than gold, small, and fragile, a tiny ember that threatened to catch into a wild-fire of emotions if she let it. But for now she just needed to tend that spark a little while longer, protect it as best she could, and do everything she could to make sure that she didn't ruin four lives in the process, potentially even more.

When the door opened, she stepped back, looking back over to the man who had just danced her around like he'd be teasing her about it for the rest of their lives. I'll go and sit with him, you two have a whole clearing of guests out there. I can send someone running if he wakes and starts making a fuss.

@Megara Neirdre
@Nairn Neirdre

Meg let out a hollow chuckle. If Ruth didn’t make some drastic changes then there might be no other way… if he even chose to after he woke up. Nairn’s hand threading through hers banished the thought for now though Meg had no doubt that someone else’s would be working overtime.

The healers arrived and Megara gave out her instructions, taking a ring stones from a colleague she made four hearthstones. One for each of us, and the infirmary. Passing one to Nairn, Dora and the staff in charge of Ruth’s care. It would reassure them all or alert them if the idiot tried to leave again, but Meg was confident that he’d stabilise fully now there had been some intervention.

Megara reached out and fixed Ruth’s hair, moving it out of his face as the healers settled him into a stretcher and readied to move. Before they’d leave she turned to Dora, giving her arm a small squeeze and rub, Remember to rest, I know it’s hard to see it right now, but it can improve. But… I put the hollow in your hearthstone if you can’t sleep. She didn’t try to dissuade the dwarf right now, but one fire at a time.

Ruth was carried out, Dora following not far behind them and Megara moved to lay on the couch with a heavy sigh. This was not how their celebration was supposed to come about, but nothing about their lives together, or apart, had been smooth. After a moment she looked over to her husband. Husband. It filled her with a giddy joy even with the worrying excitement of the day.

I need to rest for a bit. Then we go out and show face, go one lap around the hall, cut the cake and then we’re bailing.

For them, the party was over, but the rest would enjoy it, going on into the early hours of the next day. Another day where Ruth would lay unconscious until a third passed and he awoke, He almost felt normal, save from the headache ringing in his skull and his chest feeling strained, but riddled with a hunger that ached through his entire body. A bitter, god-awful potion would quell the cravings, but only slightly, allowing enough wits to numbly hear what Megara had to say.

He’d stared at her for a moment before returning back up to the ceiling. “Is that all…?” he said, swallowing.

You don’t change… and you’re going to get first hand experience of what Nairn went through.

“....”

There was a long sigh, and an even longer silence that followed after. Ruth's eyes narrowed on the ceiling above in the Infirmary.

“I… can’t promise anything. I’ll think about it, I can promise you that.”

~ FIN

@Nairn Neirdre
@Theodora Oridotti