A Line of Beauty

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 14th April 2019

Characters: Lorican, Urlene
Description: Lorican meets Urlene in the bathing room, and has an idea
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 9, day 27 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentioned: Brennault

Urlene

***

Lorican didn't think he would ever get accustomed to the bathing
arrangements at the Weyr, but thanks to Brennault's suggestion, he had
found a way to cope, for the time being.

**Just don't look at anything,** he told himself. It was early - he'd
woken from a light sleep, and his various aches and pains made it
uncomfortable enough that he couldn't drift off again - and there
weren't too many people about. He was vaguely aware as he entered the
room that there was someone else in the pool, but he kept his eyes
firmly on the floor as he went over to the bench at the side of the room
to undress.

The bruises down his side were a swirl of sickly colors, yellows and
greens and the remains of purple in the worst patches, where the blows
had fallen around his upper arm and ribs. Lorican tried not to look at
those, either, but he couldn't help a swift glance, hoping that they
might be clearing up faster than expected. Time was passing, and he
didn't seem to feel any less sore than the previous day. Hoping that the
hot water would help, he sat down on the edge of the pool, sliding his
legs in with a sigh of pleasure.

Early in the morning was the only time that Urlene could bathe without
a crowd in the bathing chambers, so usually relished the quieter, more
private time. She dunked her hair, scrubbing the sweetsand into it
until it foamed, then dipped it back, allowing her hair to spread and
rinse. Laying back into the steaming water, she had to admit, as she
often did since her arrival, that the large heated pools were one of
the best benefits to living at the Weyr; she often wished that she had
a private bath as the ranking riders and Lower Caverns workers did.
She'd be able to soak after a long day without having to wriggle
through a crowd.

The sound of splashing water drew her attention and she rose, turning
her head, but keeping only her head and shoulders out of the deeper
water. She recognized the man instantly and her eyes drew immediately
to his bruises with clinical detachment. They would be sore,
certainly, but it would fade in time; the ribs hadn't been broken; she
had checked herself. Unable to help voicing her opinion, she spoke.
"You should come to soak more often if your sides and arm pain you,
Lorican. The heat will help your muscles and prevent cramps."

Startled, he glanced towards her and then, realizing who it was, he
slipped hastily into the water with a splash and a muffled yelp at the
heat, his cheeks crimson with embarrassment. Would it be more
impertinent to look in her direction, or keep his eyes lowered? He
wasn't sure. He knew which he'd prefer, but it couldn't be gentlemanly...

**Get hold of yourself, Lorican. She's a healer, she'll have seen a
naked man before.** He hoped she'd put the color in his cheeks down to
the hot water, and against all his instincts, managed to look up,
keeping his gaze firmly fixed on her face. "Ah - yes, of course. It does
help. But it doesn't feel right to be idling about in here all day,
somehow."

Her brows raised and a smile played about her mouth as he dove in.
That was a response she wasn't used to getting from grown men. Most
men at the Weyr would have made a point of showing off; he certainly
had a right to do the same, considering the good overall physique he
had , so she found it both amusing and a bit endearing. "Well, I have
nothing against you getting mild exercise about now, like an easy
walk, but nothing overly strenuous, like smithing. Being in here all
day isn't what I would suggest. Moderation would be best, I think."

Urlene dipped her head back to give it a final rinse, then pushed the
wet strands from her brow. "Besides, with your build, you should be
back to normal sooner than you think. You're healthy besides your
injury and it wouldn't do to lose the muscle mass." She began wading
to the shallower parts of the pool, passing by him to pick up two
towels from the side of the pool. She rose from the water, then
wrapped her waist length hair with one, the other wrapping around her
body as soon as she fully clear of the pool.

Lorican had drawn breath to reply, but found that he couldn't speak, nor
could he look away. She moved with such grace. The line of her back, the
curve of her arm and the sweep of her long hair made him think of the
times he'd come closest to shaping the perfect arc in metal, when a leaf
or scroll seemed suddenly to flow, to come alive. He closed his eyes for
a moment, fixing the image in his mind.

When he opened them again, he realized that she was waiting for him to
speak. Trying to hide his confusion, he cupped some water in his hands
and splashed it over his face. "Thank you, I'll try that. Walking, I
mean. It's a long journey back home from here, and I'll need to build up
my strength."

Urlene turned to him, firmly wrapped in the towel and frowned,
uncertain as to if she'd heard him correctly. "You're walking home? If
you'd rather not ride a dragon, " she couldn't blame him for that, "
there are runners and regular wagons. A long walk is still too
strenuous, Lorican. I can arrange something if necessary. There is
certainly no reason to pt yourself at further risk. "

"But I've got my route to complete. And the Weyr's done far too much
for me already," Lorican objected. He had his pride and as much as he
might have hoped to ride a dragon again, he wouldn't dream of asking.
"I promise, I'll take it slowly, and if there's a wagon going my way
I'll ask for a ride."

"Well, I certainly can't force you. I can only advise." She picked up
her clean gown and shift. She turned her back to him, scrubbed her
hair as dry as it could get, then tossed the towel into the
appropriate bin. The other towel was quickly used and placed in the
same bin. She slipped the shift over her head, followed by the gown.
She laced the back with practiced fingers and pulled them snugly.
"Have a good day, Lorican."

He'd turned to face the other way while he washed and she dressed, out
of politeness, and half-turned to look over his shoulder. "Thank you, it
was a pleasure to see you - I mean, out of the infirmary, not in the -"
He silently cursed his awkward tongue. "Never mind. Good day, Journeywoman."

Once she was gone, he let himself fall back into the water with a soft
groan of exasperation at his own folly and closed his eyes. Well, he
told himself, it made no difference. He would leave the Weyr in a few
days, and this encounter would be nothing more than a fading memory.

Unless. In the darkness, behind his eyelids, he imagined a single line,
then another, outlining a slender form in ink. The delicate profile, the
slight bend in the knee as she stepped out of the pool... He couldn't.
It would be wrong. Disrespectful. Wouldn't it? But who would ever know
but him? And now the idea was in his head, he knew better than to expect
it to leave him easily.

Lorican rested his arms on the side of the bathing pool and allowed
himself to relax, the warmth soothing his aching body as he lost himself
in a daydream of art.

Last updated on the May 3rd 2019

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A Line of Beauty