It Can Always Get Worse

Writers: Leigh M-F.
Date Posted: 16th June 2015

Characters: Bailan, Falior
Description: Meanwhile, back at the hold
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 13, day 4 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Aluka

The tavern had been completed fairly recently, but it was a very welcome addition to the hold. Not only did traders now have a few nice rooms to stay in and get a bath if they wished to rest someplace other than their wagons, but Bex's men had taken to it like wherries to the air. Falior the hold harper was one of them. It wasn't that he was an alcoholic; in fact, the majority of the tavern visitors weren't. They just liked the chance to relax, socialize, and enjoy the surprisingly good ale with hints of various citrus fruits offered by the tavern's owners. (And of course there was always the chance to lead some drinking songs.)

Falior had just gotten another round for himself at the bar when he noticed one of the previously unoccupied little tables now had a patron. To his surprise, it was Bailan, bundled up in her winter cloak and huddled over the top of the table, hands wrapped around a mug of ale. She looked the very picture of misery, and stood out as the only woman in the tavern. Falior immediately felt concerned; Bailan had been a devoted student as a child, and had grown into a bright, cheerful woman who was a hard worker. So he carried his own mug over and sat down across from her. "I'm assuming there's a reason you seem so unhappy," he stated.

Bailan raised her head. Up close, her eyes were rimmed with red, and her lips were pressed together tightly. "There is," she said in an utterly heartbroken voice. "Think 'm preg'nat. All evidence says it's so."

"That's wonderful!" Falior said in delight, grinning broadly. Despite not having kids, he loved the little tykes and loved teaching them, especially in music.

"Not wonderful," Bailan mumbled. "Not wonderful at all."

The harper was confused. "Bailan, you've always enjoyed babysitting-"

"Doesn' mean I wanna be a ma!" the young woman snapped, glaring at him. "I never wanna be a ma! Just 'cause I'm a woman ever'one thinks I wanna lie back an' pop out babies an' I don'! Never did! I feel so vi'lated 'cause there's some disgustin' thin' growin' in me now. An' worst of all, it's HARSTON'S get. So 'course HE'S thrilled an' I'm wishin' I could ask the healers t' help me get rid o' it."

Falior was at a complete loss for words, which was unusual for him. (He blamed being too far in his cups.)

Bailan let go of the mug and buried her face in her hands. "Ancients, I hate this. Hate this so much. More an' more I wish I'd been nicer t' Aluka so he'da asked me t' run off with-"

"Here now, don't you ever say that again," Falior said immediately. "That bastard wasn't going to amount to anything here, so he wasn't going to amount to anything outside the hold, and he would have just dragged you down-"

"So what if he's a bastard?" Bailan shot back. "'Least he knew how to treat women! I don' getcha, Falior. Harpers're s'posed t' be fair, but ya were never fair even when he one of your most ded'cated students 'fore ya cut him loose. Ya treated him like garbage when ya had absolutely no reason t' hate him-"

"I had every reason to hate him!" Falior snarled, too tipsy to care about what he was saying. "He should've been mine!"

Bailan's head jerked up, jaw slack and eyes bulging as she stared at him in shock. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh, ya- ya were Shastia's-"

"Don't talk about that slut either," Falior said harshly. "Now look, whatever delusions you're fostering that things would be different had you run away, just let them go. You're a wife with responsibilities, and if you really are pregnant, then it's time you learned your place-"

Bailan slammed her hands on the table and stood up so fast she nearly knocked her chair over. "Ya been here too fardlin' long," she hissed in Falior's face. "Any open-minded thought ya mighta learned at the Hall's gone. Ya sound exactly like nearly all the men in this forsaken place. Doncha ever say nuffin' like that t' me again, ya- ya- ya stupid, miserable old tunnelsnake! If ya were anythin' like this when ya were courtin' Shastia, no wonder she cheated on ya an' I'm glad she did!" She grabbed her mug, knocked back the remaining ale, slapped the mug onto the table, and stormed out of the tavern, pulling her cloak close around her body.

Bailan wasn't even sure where she was going, but it certainly wasn't back to Harston, who was sleeping after pounding her into the mattress again. And it assuredly wasn't to her brother's home; he had recently gotten married himself. So she just walked, wishing she had a glowbasket, wishing that whatever had kept her from getting pregnant up until now still worked, and especially wishing she had been nicer to Aluka. Her behavior toward him then was most assuredly biting her on the arse now.

"Fardles," Bailan mumbled to the air, and then added something worse when she stumbled over a rock. Her feet had taken her to the hold's headstones. This actually made her feel better. She walked farther until she found the headstone she still took time to tend, and knelt in front of it. "'Sall gone t' the midden heap, Shastia," she said, resting a hand on the cold stone. "It just keeps gettin' worse an' worse. Dunno what t' do anymore. I wish...." She paused and laughed bitterly. "There's a lot I wish. Guess it doesn' matter now, though. Lost all my chances, so I'm stuck here for the rest of my life with a man I don' love an' children I don' want. Now I know why ya drank yourself to death." She swallowed hard, stroking the stone. "I'm sorry, Shastia. Real sorry. I was so dumb when I told your boy I didn' wan' him takin' me 'cause I didn' wanna end up like ya. I didn' know how much ya were hurtin' 'til now. So again, I'm so sorry."

Bailan wasn't sure how much longer she had been out in the cold when the light of a glowbasket showed up behind her and another cloak was dropped over her shoulders. Startled, she looked up to see Falior. "You'll catch your death," he said gently.

"An' tha'd be a fardlin' shame," she muttered sarcastically, but she huddled into the second cloak and allowed the harper to help her up and escort her home.

It wasn't as if she had anywhere else to go.

Last updated on the July 8th 2015

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

It Can Always Get Worse