Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is property of Diane Duane.
Author's Note: It's been forever, I know, and I'm sorry! I was in Spain, then on a road trip, and then my harddrive sat in a box for weeks waiting to get sent with all my stuff to college. I'm all set up and good now though, so enjoy!
Chapter 12: Health and Sickness
When Dairine decided she had had enough homework, she told Spot to wake her at the necessary intervals and—after one last check to make sure the snoozing king seemed all right—went to sleep on the sofa. The first time Dairine was woken up was by Spot—she (to prevent a relapse) and Roshaun both drank the keritzal root tea; the second time she was woken up was by Roshaun himself."Dhairine?" Roshaun called in the dark room. "Dhairine?" He started coughing.
Dairine blinked, slowly regaining consciousness. "What is it, Roshaun?"
He finally stopped coughing.
"Well? What is it?"
She was still tired, but gradually waking.
Roshaun sounded thoroughly awake, but pitifully miserable. "I can't sleep," he said. She could almost hear the pout in his voice.
"Try."
"I've been trying."
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
There was no answer for a while and Dairine had just about drifted back to dreamland when Roshaun responded to her question. "Sing me to sleep?"
Dairine snorted. She sat up and looked over at him. "You must be nuts. I don't sing. And believe me—you wouldn't want to hear me try." She was about to lay back down on the couch again and go to sleep when her conscience got the better of her. "Is there anything else I could do to help you?"
Roshaun sneezed. "Stay awake and keep me company in my misery."
Dairine was sorely tempted to throw something at him but stopped herself. "All right." She summoned a wizard light and, hugging her blanket around her, walked over to the bed and sat down. "I'll keep you company so long as you don't sneeze on me."
Facing away from her momentarily, Roshaun broke into a coughing fit. "I won't."
"Well, start with another dose of tea. It's about time," she said, after a brief pause.
Roshaun grabbed the large cp from next to his bed and Dairine spelled it to taste like hot chocolate again.
They sat in silence. Roshaun half sat up against his headboard under the blankets and Dairine sat next to him wrapped in the blanket she brought from the couch.
She leaned her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes. "I did some reading up on Wellakh."
"You did?"
"Yeah. Interesting history. I think—maybe—moving away from kingships would be the next step. But not all at once, mind you." She paused.
Roshaun sat up a little more. "Go on."
"Well, in the last, say, hundred years over all, has the standard of living increased? Are less people hungry every night? Are there more people being educated? Do they have more time to think? Are they happier?"
"Maybe, yes, yes, sometimes, and no," responded Roshaun. "But I think I do see what you mean. They are not so happy now because they're smart enough to see how things could be different."
Dairine nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Your average person has mostly moved beyond the stage of accepting things exactly as they are and they understand that the world around them could be better than it is."
The only problem is that they see the solution as lying in the regicide of whoever the current monarch is, rather than reformation of the system itself which dates back for so many generations."
"Exactly. So the key is to spread out the power and reform the system of government."
"A little rainwater wouldn't hurt either," he added wryly.
Dairine agreed. "But we're working on that. And we'll get there—"
"Sooner or later," cut in Roshaun.
"Not at all. We're get there sooner." Her tone was confident. This was just another assignment to get through. And they could handle it.
"Dhairine?"
"Yeah?"
Roshaun took a deep breath. "Tell me about your life."
Dairine glanced over at him. His eyes were closed and he shifted into a more comfortable position. He'd probably be asleep soon and she'd got back over to the couch. In the meantime she could settle into the mound of pillows. "Well, I was smart, even young. Taught myself a lot of things." She frowned. "Never quite fit in. Small, but I learned to handle bullies so that they couldn't touch me. Nita's always had trouble with bullies—until she start her wizardry."
"What about your school? What is it like there?"
Dairine blinked. Maybe he wasn't as asleep as she thought he was. "In my part of the planet, people have to go to school from the time they're five years old and usually 'til they're 18. A lot of people stay in school for another four to eight years." She adjusted one of the pillows behind her. "Schools can have hundreds or I've a couple of thousand kids in them. Colleges are even bigger; some might have 40,000 students. Classes of twenty or thirty kids in a classroom are average, staying there for six or eight hours a day."
"It sounds…intense."
Dairine shook her head. "It's not really. Classes aren't that hard, we have breaks, and half the kids don't do anything anyway. And it's not all academic. There's always PE—physical education that is—and art and music in the schools that haven't cut it yet for the sake of the budget." She shook her head; it was just wrong. "What about education here?"
"My own, or in general?" he asked.
"Both. Yours first." Dairine yawned. It was late; or early. "Personal tutor for life?"
"No actually. When I was very young I was in a group with perhaps a dozen other children chosen at random from the surrounding area to learn basic manners and simple socialization with. When I was a little older I, boys and girls my own age and reasonable social standing were brought here to attend lessons with me; a king who can get along with no one but himself does no one any good."
"That makes sense. What did you study?"
"Everything."
She gave him a look that said clearly, You can't have studied everything
"It seemed that way. Reading, writing, math, etiquette, negotiations, history. There was little I didn't study."
"Music? Philosophy? Other planets?" challenged Dairine.
"Music I began as a young child, which you know, and of course I studied philosophy."
"And what about your wizardry?" Dairine asked.
Roshaun was quiet. "I didn't always know whether or not I had wizardry. I knew wizards existed, but I didn't know I was one. I had hoped, but there was no way of knowing until the time was right. Wizardry was not part of my lessons. I had to learn it on my own."
Dairine could sense that he wasn't at ease and patted him on the shoulder. "One of the reasons we know what our wizardry is worth is because we have to learn it ourselves, because pay a high price for it." She looked at him carefully and locked eyes. "And that price isn't so much the spell backlash or anything; it's our lives. Our very lives. We have all ready the warnings and those of us who are wizards—you and I both—decided it was worth it. That the Art was worth the devotion of our lives and energy until we die."
"Using what life we have to slow down the Death of the universe," he said softly.
Dairine nodded. "We read it, and we still signed up for it. And no matter how tough it is sometimes, I wouldn't trade it."
"Neither would I, Dhairine."
Dairine wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but she fell asleep. She knew that they had talked for a few minutes about why exactly they had been drawn towards Wizardry, but the conversation had eventually slowed and they both stopped talking. And then they were asleep. Her eyes weren't open yet, but she knew she was awake. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Facing her, about a foot and a half away was Roshaun.
His eyes had opened a few seconds before hers. "Good morning."
She yawned. "Morning."
"Thank you for keeping me company until I fell asleep last night. It was nice to have someone to talk to," he said.
"Of course I stayed awake with you. You took care of me when I was sick."
Roshaun frowned and rolled over, away from her. The way she was speaking it sounded as though she was paying a debt or returning a favor by taking care of him.
"Hey, are you alright?"
"I'm just fine."
She blinked, startled. "Well, good. I wanted you to feel better. I know being sick is miserable." Roshaun sure was moody. He probably felt worse than he looked at the moment. "I don't want you to be miserable."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed sincere and he felt better. Maybe she didn't feel like she was paying off a debt after all.
They were sitting up and discussing the water problem when breakfast came in. It was a few minutes before Dairine noticed that Roshaun wasn't eating. The drought debate went on for several more minutes before Dairine finally decided to say something. They were sitting on the bed, plates in front of them. She could tell Roshaun was doing his best to look as animated as he could and not as though he felt sick. "How are you feeling?" Dairine was hungry and started piling things onto her plate. Fruits, and the weird crepe-things, and even a little breakfast meat.
"Better."
Dairine studied him a moment.
"I mean it, I am feeling better," Roshaun insisted.
She looked pointedly at his empty plate. "I thought you said you were 'feeling better' now?" she asked.
Roshaun eyed the food, and started his defense. "I am. I just don't want to press my luck in the matter."
She put some food on his plate. If he honestly were feeling better, he'd eat it.
Roshaun poked it with his fork.
"I thought you weren't feeling sick," she challenged. "I guess you'd better go back to sleep and I'll go walk around the palace after I finish eating."
His face turned stubborn and he stuck his fork into a piece of fruit and put it to his mouth. Roshaun ate his breakfast and even kept up a little bit of conversation. However, the breakfast didn't want to stay down.
About ten minutes after they finished eating, Roshaun was running for the bathroom.
Dairine held back his hair and handed him a towel for his face when he stood up.
Needless to say, he looked more than a little queasy and…possibly embarrassed?
"Are you all right, Roshaun?" she asked, leading him back to his bed.
He bit his lip. "I should have let you go walk around the palace."
She arched an eyebrow.
"I did not want you to see me like that." He settled on top of the blankets.
Dairine gave a dry laugh. "Hey, you saw me the same way. Besides, you're human."
Roshaun didn't even look at her.
She sat down next to him and he started muttering to himself. "What is it?"
"I know I've got it somewhere, but I can't remember where."
"What and where?"
Roshaun stopped his muttering. "When you were vomiting I procured some leaves that improve the freshness of one's breath from the maid who came in. I forgot to give them to you then, but I may as well use them now." He found them in the drawer of his bedside table, stuck the leaves in his mouth, and chewed them for a moment, eventually discarding the remnants in a napkin. "Much better now," he said to himself, exhaling.
Dairine sniffed. The leaves were strong. They reminded her of mint.
There was a minute of silence.
Dairine mentally squirmed. They'd had silences since she'd been there. Some of them comfortable, others awkward. This one was awkward.
"Do you have any set plan as to when you're going to leave?" Roshaun asked, quietly.
Oh, yeah. Like that's a tension breaker, Dairine thought sarcastically, hoping he didn't hear her. He didn't seem to hear. "Whenever I feel like it. The truth is, once I get home, my inter-planet sightseeing might be somewhat limited. Not to mention my dad might just ground me on top of it for not telling him that I was leaving." She snorted. It sounded funny. She was possibly going to get grounded for planet hopping without permission. "On the other hand, I'm on assignment here. So even though I'm going home, I'm still going to be getting more information about what's going on here, and neither my Seniors or my dad'll stop me from coming back on assignment."
Roshaun managed a small smile. "So I take it you aren't eager to go home."
Dairine leaned back against the headboard. "Not in particular."
He found himself feeling a little better and searched out his cathaw. He sat up and played it. She closed her eyes and relaxed, listening to the music wash over her and she couldn't help but smile. She had to wonder when she'd gotten so sentimental, but she didn't care about that just now. Roshaun played almost automatically; some tunes were old lullabies, others he made up as he went along.
