If You Were Sober

Writers: Dana, Eimi
Date Posted: 25th February 2006

Characters: Larken, Ojisan
Description: Ojisan berrates Larken for drinking so much at the Hatching festivities
Location: Harper Hall
Date: month 10, day 8 of Turn 3

"I thought Anacia was supposed to be watching you," Ojisan sighed as he sat his wife down on their bed. "Just how much did you have to drink tonight?"

Larken blinked at him for a moment. "More than...two glasses." And that was quite obvious. She couldn't really say how much she had had to drink...but her breath smelled like the sweet vintage and her bright eyes were glazed just slightly.

"I think I'm going to have to have a long talk with her husband," he said with a disappointed shake of his head. He reached down and started pulling off her shoes. "You are not experienced enough to be left to drink as you will. One of these days you're going to make yourself sick drinking this way."

"I don't feel sick. Here, I can get my own shoes..." She reached down to try and help him, but the world seemed to swim before her. She blinked again and frowned down at her hands. They hadn't always been so fuzzy.

"Now you just let me do this," her husband said sternly. "You've had way too much to drink. What were you thinking, Larken?"

This time, she frowned slightly at him. "We were all having a good time, Ojisan." She slowly leaned back on her hands, watching him as he undid the laces on her other boot. "It's not as if I..." She covered her mouth to hide a little hiccup. "...Threw caution to the wind."

"I wish you could see yourself," he muttered as he pulled her boot off her foot. "You are _obviously_ drunk. Who knows how you would have even found your way home after that? Thank Faranth I had the early set. Who knows how much more you would have guzzled."

His words brought out a rise of irritation in her, and she snatched her foot away from his grasp. "I _do_ have limitations I've set for myself."

"Don't act like a child, Larken." He pulled her foot back. "I'm already disappointed enough in you."

"_Disappointed_? Ojisan, it was a Hatching!"

"Yes, and in front of the whole Weyr, two Halls, and Faranth knows how many familes of candidates, my wife is red-faced and drunk, and has lost control of herself. I'm sure in the morning when you are sober you will see just how foolish you look now." He threw her boots aside and walked to the closet to find her a nightgown.

"I'm not the only one who drank tonight! There were plenty of others. And I'm not completely gone, otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you now." Granted, her words were slurred a bit, and mer mind was a little woozey, but at least she was capable of _thinking_. And speaking coherently.

"And if you were sober and you heard how very unlike yourself you sound, you would be ashamed of yourself." Her husband began pulling her tunic over her head. "If you were sober you would realize that it doesn't matter that you drank tonight, but that you drank way more than you should have. And if you were sober, you would not try to blame your drinking on others, but take a bit of responsibility for your own actions."

Larken raised her arms over her head, annoyed with the tone of voice he was taking with her. She highly doubted that he'd gone through life without getting drunk, so why in Faranth's name did he have such a condemning way about him? The others hadn't treated her like this. They'd been right there with her, having fun, dancing, sharing laughs and stories... And he could've been there with her too, if he'd wanted. She hated to admit it, but his words stung her, and it was a feeling she'd never quite experienced before. Foreign. And she didn't like it one bit.
"Yes, Papa." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Ojisan didn't answer her right away while he pulled the nightgown down over her head. He pulled her to her feet and pulled her skirt down around her ankles and gently pushed her back down onto the bed and untangled the skirt from around her feet. "I married you because I wanted a wife, not a child." Grabbing his own night shirt and a pillow he muttered, "I think you can find your own way into your bed now. I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight."

She stared up at him through the veil of her dark hair. Shaking it from her eyes, she shoved herself back and away from him. "Fine." Fighting back tears, she turned away and curled up on her side, hating the feeling of rejection, hating the stinging in her heart.

Last updated on the February 26th 2006

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If You Were Sober