02.27.3014: The Heart Leads the Way
Summary: Lyrienne brings Cyrielle cookies and offers some sage advice.
Date: 29 11 2013
Related: None
Cyrielle Lyrienne 

Willowtree Hospital, Landing, Imperius
The walls of the top hospital in Haven are painted in bright, pastel colors, presenting a calm, cool facade. Cleaning and nursing drones bustle down the hallways around human nurses and doctors, staying out of the way of their living counterparts. There are triage rooms meant to hold dozens of patients, two-person rooms for those with severe wounds or illnesses, and operating theaters filled with scanners, laser scalpels, and every sort of medical technology available to the people of Haven.
Thurs Feb 27 3014

Lyrienne isn't entirely unknown at the Willowtree. Given her usual fan base, she's been in the hospital more than one to play small performances for children or teens in the pediatric wards. This time, though, she's coming on more personal business. A few questions to a nurse were enough for directions to Cyrielle's room, and when she arrives, it's with a try of cookies in hand, knocking lightly against the doorframe. "Visitor for Cyrielle," she singsongs lightly.

The process is not a quick one or an easy one. With almost seven years worth of bone and muscle working around the original injury, well… Not only did Cyrielle lose most of the leg (the knee and down are cybernetic now), the recovery is taking its time as well. It's a victory just to be in a wheeled chair instead of the bed.

Today, she's sitting by a window and reading. A book on Hermeticism, so just one guess where that came from. In the window are two separate vases of flowers and a ship in a bottle. The woman, at least, is not overly lacking in visitors. Cyrielle's eyes come up and shift to the door. There's a broad smile for the arriving woman… and, perhaps, the cookies. "Ah! it's so good to see you."

"I wanted to give you time to get used to things," Lyrienne says with a warm smile, stepping in and setting the cookies on a nearby surface where they can be easily snagged. Chocolate, with peanut butter in them. "I know it's always a little awkward when people want to come visit right after I have a baby, for example. As if I'm in any state for that sort of thing," she chuckles, setting a hand over the curve of her stomach. "How are you?"

There's a glance to that curve and Cyrielle wrinkles her nose slightly. "I can only imagine." Which is well the truth. She sets the book in her lap and angles the chair over towards the table. Her leg, at least, is just held at an angle in the chair; not wholly straight, nor bent. It's a good sign that things are progressing.

A cookie nabbed, "I'm alright. Tired of feeling cooped up…" She's a child of the sea and a druid. Walls are restrictive. "But I can't go until they're happy enough to release me to a clinic in Beacon to continue my therapy." And then, yes, Cyrielle digs in to the cookie. No one can resist such good-smelling treats.

"I'm glad to hear it," Lyrienne nods firmly, settling into a seat herself. "You certainly look well. I know it's going to be an adjustment, but I look forward to seeing you at your full capacity again." Her smile slips crooked as she reaches for a cookie herself as well. "Honestly, I think the leg thing is less weird than Ric's," she adds, wrinkling her nose and tapping a finger at her temple. "You should see when he takes the eye out to clean it."

There's a sharp eye on Lyrienne as the woman sits. Hey, Cyrielle doesn't know what pregnancy is like. She's the youngest and none of her siblings have been wed yet. It's a mystery and she just knows the surface level. So she's worried for the Orelle! "I don't even remember what full capacity is like," she admits, with a flash of a smile.

The cookie is finished and she eyes the tray. Obviously considering another. "These are fantastic," offered as an aside, before her eyes go to Lyrienne. There's a bit of a smirk. "Don't think I'll have to be taking anything out for this. My brother said I should have gotten a cupholder. Not sure how useful that'd be except when sitting."

"Dirty secret," Lyrienne grins at Cyrielle, nodding toward the cookies. "I actually buy the dough from a baker on the Ring. The kids and I actually put them in the oven and all, but I swear, there's some trick to the mixing, because I got the recipe and tried to make it myself once, and it went horribly, horribly wrong," she waves one hand. "Anyhow." She quirks a brow at the book, smile crooked. "Trying something new?"

"You still likely manage better than I would," Cyrielle admits with an almost sheepish smile. "I can cook the basics. Game, greens… But baking, never had the hang of it. I have to buy my desserts pre-made." And talking about it leads her to give in and grab another cookie.

Dark eyes fall to the book and, while chewing, she grins somewhat. Cyrielle shrugs once her mouth is clear again: "Nitrim brought it with a few other things for me. Figured I'd give it a read, see if I can even comprehend some of it."

"I've always found hermeticism a little dry for my tastes," Lyrienne muses. "A little too strict. Not enough room for interpretation. But I've never been one to spend too much time really thinking about what it is we do. For me, it comes from the inside and just sort of…flows. But I can see the appeal for a certain sort of mindset."

"Nitrim certainly seems to like it," Cyrielle murmurs, shoulders rising and falling lightly. "I've never really looked much into the other… realms of thought when it comes to what we do." She takes a moment, finishing that second cookie. The rest will be eyed, but she contains herself for now.

"I figure it's good to have at least an idea of how they work, though. Until now, I never even did that much."

"Late Awakening," Lyrienne nods with a small smile. "It might help, honestly. Anything that helps you wrap your head around what's happening with you isn't going to hurt. How goes the therapy for your leg?" she asks curiously, looking toward the new prosthetic. "I'm sure it's an adjustment."

"Well, that and I figure if he was willing to go sailing with me, I ought to learn about one of his interests. It's only fair?" Cyrielle grins somewhat, lifting the book to flip it over and peer at the back. There's a few things of entertainment; holovid discs and books, primarily. 'A Thousand Deaths,' is one of the books. You know. THAT one.

"Ah, it's… it's slow. I'm so used to favoring my right leg that I'm… having trouble putting as much into it as I should." Cyrielle wrinkles her nose, reaching to run fingers over the knee. She's been sticking to shorts lately; it's easier when there's diagnostics to be run. "So the adjustment is going slower than if, say, I'd had it done right off."

"Scars are like that," Lyrienne agrees quietly. "The longer we leave them, the harder they get. I'm glad you found the courage you needed to take that step," she smiles warmly, reaching out to give the other woman's hand a squeeze. "So, Nitrim." Her smile deepens, dimpling her cheeks. "He's been doing well lately, hasn't he?"

"It took a fair bit," Cyrielle admits, squeezing Lyrienne's hand lightly in return. "But… Lazarus was the final straw. If I'd done this sooner, I could have been better." She's still blaming herself for the injuries the others sustained, but that's the norm for a person's first real combat.

At the mention of the Khourni, there's a small little smile. The sort of thing that rises unbidden. Cyrielle looks, briefly, towards some of the flowers that sit on the ledge, light casting off of them from outside. "He has been," she offers in a soft tone, "right now he's… struggling, over the loss of his sister, but he's bearing that fairly well, too."

Lyrienne's smile fades at the reminder, hand settling unconsciously over her stomach. "Poor Lady Reena," she says quietly, shaking her head. "Such a loss. Such a good woman. The Hostiles…" She lets out a soft breath, shaking her head. "They wonder why we don't all fight. There are more of us than there are of them. If we were as dedicated to the war effort as they are, then yes, we could win. But what exactly would we be winning at that point?"

"I'd take anything that ends the war at this point," Cyrielle murmurs, brows furrowed. "So many of the people I care about are always at risk." She reaches for the new leg again, fingers passing over it. The nerves are getting to where physical sensations are almost completely renewed. "And all I want to do is protect all of them…" Her voice, by the end, wavers slightly.

"We all do what we can," Lyrienne says gently. "Not everyone is called to be a warrior. But if you feel that you have been, then you'll soon be more prepared for it. You'll let me know if you need anything else, won't you?" she asks, taking another bite of her own cookie.

"I don't know where I'm called to be," Cyrielle admits, nose wrinkling slightly. She curls her hands around the spine of the book. Giving them a place to rest. "At one time, it was in my father's navy. Now… I want to be capable, as a warrior, but… I don't think Knighthood is the path for me and there's not really something similar for Awakened. We work alone, or in small groups, or find someone similar, like you and I have. But that doesn't really… /prepare/ us for anything like battle. Not like soldiers, or archers, really." She draws in a breath, tilting her head in a nod. "I will, of course. I'd still like to, once I'm out of here, perhaps… go for a dinner. You, Cedric, and myself and Nitrim… Keep working on improving that image of his."

"There are Awakened knights," Lyrienne shakes her head. "Sir Jeremy, for one. My brother Advent is a knight, and Awakened, though like you he's had a late Awakening, and is a little wary of his powers. We can be trained to fight. But unless we're familiar with another type of weapon, we're best as protected, ranged fighters. Like archers, who don't run out of arrows. I was going to spend more time working on my own self defense, but then…" She trails off, rueful.

"It just… feels like when an Awakened becomes a Knight, we're fitting into someone else's mold." Cyrielle lifts a hand from the book, tugging at her hair absently. She frowns, somewhat. "I don't have an interest in wearing heavy armor, or learning to swing a sword. I want to… be me. I want to be light and quick on my feet." A glance to the new leg, "to be there, whenever someone may need an extra hand." She shrugs, leaning back into the chair. "I have too much time to think in here."

"You should talk to Sir Jeremy," Lyrienne advises, offering a small smile. "He's a ranger as well as a Knight. And he's good people. Perhaps he can tell you a little bit more about fitting in as Awakened when it comes to defending Haven. I wish I could tell you more, but…" She trails off, shaking her head. "I would have known more, had I stayed in Arborenin. But when it became clear that I wasn't going to expected to be High Lady of anything, I sort of stopped learning certain things."

"I'll see if I can find him," Cyrielle murmurs, taking a moment to commit the name to memory. "I feel we need more Rangers… Arborenin seems to be where most of the difficult ones end up." There's a glance over to the Orelle and she smirks, briefly. "I couldn't even begin to imagine what goes on with learning such a lofty station. A part of me is uncertain about…" She trails off there, glancing over to the cookies for a moment. "Well, let's just say we Hollolas' aren't really the sort to cling too hard to our noble stations."

"It's not all that difficult, honestly," Lyrienne laughs softly. "Though there is a lot of…logistics to it. A lot of numbers, and organization, and paperwork. And, if you're meant to be moral support, there is a good deal of learning how to deal with people. That part, at least, has always come naturally," she says with a small, warm smile. "I'm grateful for all the opportunities I've had, though. Even if my life isn't quite what I expected it to be."

There's a bit of a lopsided smile to Cyrielle and she looks over, sharing it with Lyrienne. "I don't think I know a single person right now whose life is what they expected it to be." She starts to extend the leg a bit, as if making something of a point. Nose wrinkles and she has to stop after a moment. "It's figuring out what it's meant to be, versus expected that's the hard part, I'm finding."

"That, my friend, is the easiest part," Lyrienne assures, standing carefully. "You just have to listen to your heart instead of your head, or everyone else. You have the answer." She takes one more cookie, but leaves the try behind. "I should probably be getting home, though. Ric gets nervous if I'm out too long. But I hope you continue to improve. And come to see me when you're out."

Biting her lip a bit at that, Cyrielle frowns a little. "I just don't think it's that easy." She grabs another cookie, breaking a piece off to nibble on. There's a nod to the woman and the Hollolas gives a small smile. "Once I'm able, I'll come by for a visit. I'm sure I'll be roaming about as much as possible once they release me."

"Give it a try," Lyrienne laughs softly to Cyrielle, leaning in to catch her in a gentle hug. "And take care of yourself. Give my love to Nitrim if you see him before I do." And with that, she turns to make sure way out of the hospital.

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