Stavanger Bay I don't mind if I smoke away your taste

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Reverie meant to seek @Bridget soon — but she didn't quite get the chance. She was straightening up @Blossom's bed while her daughter, fresh from a nap, entertained herself with some of the vines along the cave walls, when it happened. Reverie only had a moment to step back, a moment of inexplicable dread before the blood started to fall on the den floor. It happened so quickly, so painlessly, she was baffled for a moment.
Then she turned for the den entrance, unthinking, feeling as if she moved underwater. Oddly, she still felt calm, though she did not think of whether her daughter might follow or whether @Lestan had seen. The blood trail thickened rapidly as she left the den, heading for the water — and when she reached the shoreline, she would call for the healer.

Reverie’s call would bring her quickly, and the visible trail would spur her into a run. She hadn’t gone looking for herbs just yet, wanting to see how these settled first, knowing there was always the chance. The woman’s sickness was a puzzle, but now she was more sure than ever she would need to find the other options. Something in Reverie’s womanhood was out of balance.

How is the pain? Bridget asked immediately, coming to her side. The bleeding was worrying but not something Bridget could immediately fix. Something to help, replace what she’s losing. It might be the best option. This wasn’t a wound that she could simply patch up.

blood, again, the scent of it thick and horrible, sending lestan into the final spiral of the last stress.
he encouraged blossom out of the den as quickly as he was able, trying to wipe the worst of it from the stone before it bled permanently; he stationed blossom outside the shelter's mouth. "stay here. i am going to find mama, all right?"
lestan was torn, frenzied; could he leave her? should he follow? reverie was calling for the healer but there was so much blood, so much; it was all he could see, rivers of it, lakes of it, her limp body lying in a rapidly spreading pool;
he dashed off;
"reverie!" came his tortured howl upon the sea wind, until he found her, bleeding, and the woman he suspected was bridget, or would have suspected were not all his focus for his wife; "please, please sit down; please," never walk away like that again, it was the creek once more in shades and perhaps their new doctor could tell by his gasping breaths and panicked eyes that he was having an attack of sorts.

Bridget was calm as she arrived at Reverie's side, though her pace had been appropriately urgent. It doesn't hurt, She answered softly, grateful for the healer's soothing presence. Particularly when Lestan arrived, decidedly not calm. But why, why was he here?
For Blossom, he'd said.
Hypocrite. Calm down, She murmured to him, too caught up in that overwhelming sense of calm to truly feel her agitation. All the same, she sat in the shallows, letting the rolling waves wash up around her and carry the blood away. Where is Blossom? She shouldn't be alone. You should be with her. That was the reason for their marriage, their life together, wasn't it? Yet he was here.

No pain was better than pain, maybe, but calm and numbness wasn’t always a good sign. Bridget felt her forehead and cheek for a moment just as Lestan was arriving, looking for the cold that might indicate a shock response.

He was decidedly more agitated, and while Bridget didn’t move away, she kept her voice calm and reassuring. It was a completely understandable reaction and not one she was unfamiliar with. It was hard to watch this sort of thing when it happened to those you loved. Part of a medic’s life was to learn this detachment, walking the fine line between care and acceptance.

We are going to find out what will work. I promise that I will do everything I can. The bleeding will stop, but she will need something to eat and recover. Fish would be best. From experience she’d learned that in time of stress, clear directions on a path towards action could help. It would mean trusting her, a woman he had never met, but she in turn trusted him to see some reason in this.

Reverie had asked about someone called Blossom, but Bridget’s focus was on the situation at hand. She could ask about that once Lestan was calmed and she’d made sure the woman wasn’t in immediate danger.

out unless he's tagged back <3

guilt tapered through him, but before lestan could even gently argue, the woman he had decided was bridget spoke to him.
his harried eyes cut from reverie to the healer — calm down indeed! — and he bit the inside of his cheek to stifle worry with pain. 
"all right," he answered hoarsely, not understanding reverie's distance as the foaming breakers carried a pink tinge away from them all.
he rose unsteadily and was gone for a short while, perhaps twenty minutes at most.
when he returned it was with a side of salt fish and blossom, who he tried to shield awkwardly from the events. "here. I'm — gonna take her back to the den. j-just call for vaire. or rhaegal, if y-you need anyone. or i can take her to vaire and come back," lestan caught himself spiraling again. drawing a deep breath, he nodded at bridget, tried to exchange a glance with reverie, and turned, keeping their daughter ahead of him.
the fish lay half wrapped in seaweed, and lestan fought not to look back.

Reverie frowned deeply, unsure how to handle her own emotions in this moment; she felt subdued and yet there was something ugly rearing its head within her, something which had made its home beneath the cage of her ribs ever since she had argued so bitterly with her husband. She did not want him here.
So it was a relief when he left, and she couldn't quite hide that from Bridget. She let out a little sigh, and released a tension she hadn't realized existed until this moment. Still there was a small worry in her for Blossom; she was quiet until the moment Lestan reappeared with her daughter, at which her eyes lit and she stood in spite of herself. Blossom, She breathed at the sight of her, but could manage no more. The bleeding had slowed somewhere in the interim, but Reverie was struck with a wave of lightheadedness, and the world spun. She only managed to keep her footing long enough for her husband and daughter to turn away.
Then her hind legs faltered beneath her, and she sat down hard in the water again, feeling weak in a way that scared her. It was only blood loss, she knew, but it felt a little bit like dying.

Bridget watched him go and noticed the defeat that clung to him. Something there wasn’t right either, and she’d talk to him later. The relief Reverie showed wasn’t unusual either, though it was hard to judge if it was to save him from seeing her like this or some other tension between the two. The latter wasn’t her business unless they chose to bring it up.

Blossom. Is she yours? Bridget asked, sitting next to her and then letting herself recline up onto the bank, sphinx-like. She hoped it would silently encourage Reverie to follow suit.

Waiting doesn’t mean doing nothing. She remembered her mentor saying it fairly often. If she tried to eat now, dizzy, it would only make her sick, so Bridget would give her warmth and conversation until things leveled. All while she silently monitored her, alert to anything that might change.

For a moment — just a moment, before Bridget began to speak again — Reverie's eyes found Lestan's retreating form and lingered there. She could not help but remember a time when she would have wanted him here. I'll have to talk to him, she decided, and then the healer was speaking and she was momentarily distracted.
Yes, she's mine, Reverie managed a smile for her, but it took a few moments for her to follow Bridget's lead in reclining. She paused. When the bleeding stops, maybe - maybe Lestan can come back. She sighed softly.
Every time this happens, I - I just end up worrying about them, And she hated herself for the bitterness in this confession. I came out here because I didn't want Blossom to see. Nor Lestan, or blood on their den floor, or the place of her death to be where her family slept.
Maybe, she thought, it would be best if she left.

She shifted close and listened quietly, reminded suddenly of recent conversations with Teya. The two of them had more in common than it seemed. It was such a universal problem with parents, wanting to protect their children from the truth.

I can understand that. We don’t want the ones we love to worry about us, if we can help it. But if I were you, I would be honest with her. They are smart, and if she figures out what is going on, it might make her worry more if she starts to wonder why you hid it from her. The entire time she spoke, Sorana was on her mind, her disappearance still aching a little. She’d tried to make herself someone the girl could go to but an aunt was no match for the support and honesty of a mother.

I’ve seen it, and it usually doesn’t go as well. We’re going to manage this. You can tell her that. She was still quietly confident as always. There were more options available, and as soon as Reverie had eaten and rested, Bridget would start searching for a better solution. For the moment she began idly combing any tangles from the other woman’s ruff, hoping to share the calm and dispel some of the fear she had to be experiencing.

But there wasn't any fear in Reverie, not anymore. If she was honest in a way she could only ever be with herself, she couldn't seem to find much investment in her own life. Her love for Blossom was the only thing she felt she truly had anymore, and Reverie couldn't help but see the slow countdown sitting just above her daughter's head whenever she looked at her. That was always her plan: to raise her and love her and then let her go off to live her own life, as Reverie wished her parents had done for her.
They were just broken people who had never known how to let go. She saw that now, but unlike them, she did not intend to sit by and make excuses while the sharp edges of her own shatterings caught her daughter and turned her into something bloody and wounded that could only heal to brittleness; destined to shatter too one day. For this reason, Reverie listened to what Bridget had to say. She nodded slowly.
I'll - tell her soon. When I feel a little better. I don't want to scare her, She decided softly, not thinking in this moment of Lestan or his opinion. Thank you, Bridget. Her eyes were warm on the healer. And neither did she think of Lestan when she felt Bridget's soft touch, and her pulse stuttered a little before settling into a slower rhythm. Reverie closed her eyes.
She did not want to do this anymore.
But she would, and that thought felt so much like exhaustion.
The pain never came, but eventually the bleeding did stop, and when the water had washed away the last of the blood she tried, shakily, to stand — and failed. I think I need help, Reverie sighed. Maybe @Lestan - She didn't wait for Bridget's opinion; she called for him, though not urgently. Not because she wanted him here, but because she knew that she should.

Bridget did not mind the brush off, recognizing that she’d at least listened and heard. It wasn’t something she could rush and, as a mother, it was her choice when she felt the time was right. Hopefully by then she’d have helped some and Reverie would feel a little more optimistic about things. This first bad reaction had likely tempered some of that hope, and Bridget could only try and ensure the next would be more of a success.

As she’d hoped, the bleeding stopped on its own. Stemming it might have done more damage than good, locking the infection inside, so she was glad. Whatever was going on was too sporadic to be an open wound, but that didn’t mean it was nothing to worry about.

You’ll want to eat, if you can. And drink. I’ll bring you what he caught and some water. She didn’t move from where she was just yet, but looked out and watched for Reverie’s husband to appear. Lestan. She would remember that.

She could have argued that she could help the woman back herself, and not trouble him, but she recognized that his presence was different. A healer was no fill in for a mate (thankfully) despite the trust that might exist between them eventually. It was a different relationship by design.

And Bridget was good at this. Maybe too good, she thought silently, a touch of rueful melancholy to it. Tension aside, it had to be nice, knowing that someone was there when you called.

he left blossom there again with a small shell; he came back to the beach to find reverie cleared of blood and the healer beside her. "t-thank you. b-bridget, was it? please, come back with us. we can g-get settled tonight."
he would proceed at whatever speed was necessary for her, stopping where directed, and when they had come to the beauty of the spacious den, he would help her rest.
all of him, devoted in the entirety of his spirit; lestan hoped she would see it.

Last for me <3 Starr, feel free to make any assumptions regarding further treatment with your last post or we can have a follow up for that if you prefer!

I'll - try to do that. I'm not very hungry, I feel kind of sick actually, but... She searched for a silver lining. I'm not in pain, at least. It usually hurts when this happens. So - that's good, right?
But Reverie fell quiet when Lestan arrived again. She managed a gentle smile for him, and even found some warmth in his touch as he helped her stand, but there was a brewing anxiety in her. How could she ever tell him the truth? That her love for him was fading, that she could hardly stand the sight of him anymore, much less his touch; not for any sense of contempt, but for the simple fact that it hurt. She didn't think she could. Instead, she let him guide her to the den, let him fuss over her. She even spared a kiss for him once or twice, and pulled him close for warmth. All the while, she held back her tears.

If you can. Bridget replied, understanding that it might not be something she could do. She wouldn’t force it if that was the case.

When Lestan came she let him take over, following them quietly back but not remaining in their den. It felt invasive, even with the invitation, so she promised to remain nearby and returned to the place she’d spent the previous one, out under the stars.

Tomorrow morning she would go searching for the herbs she’d been shown when she was younger. She remembered distinctly what they tasted and smelled like - the sight was less clear, but she’d know them when she found them.

She thought of Teya, back in Brecheliant with her new children, and of Maia and Eljay and their family as well. The touch of melancholy from earlier bloomed into loneliness in her chest. She would spend some time watching the waves before sleep would come.