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It was a quiet Saturday.
Both of his parents were out—his mom was on patrol, his dad was researching in the outpost Archives—and his sisters had both hurried out of the living quarters immediately following their parents’ departure—Mira to hang out with another officer’s daughter, and Violet to play with Dain.
Brennan was grateful for the silence; it gave him uninterrupted time to study a new series of chess moves before he tried them with Violet tonight. She had just turned eight and was well on her way to becoming a worthy opponent… if she wanted to beat him tonight, he wasn’t going down without a fight.
He was halfway through learning the sequence when a dirt-smeared Dain had burst through the door, an equally-as-dirt-smeared and sniffling Violet trailing behind him, one of her knees scraped raw and bloody.
It had taken him a while to get Dain to calm down enough to explain what had happened—apparently Violet had scraped it when they were trying to climb a boulder near the outpost, and another few minutes to reassure Dain that yes, Violet was in capable hands before he finally went back to his own living quarters.
The concern Violet’s best friend had for her drove Brennan a bit crazy at times, but everyone tended to feel that way about Violet, and he and Mira were no exception. She was their baby sister, so it was only natural. But her fragile condition had made them especially weary of anything that could hurt her—multiple infirmary trips had taught the older Sorrengail siblings well. Luckily, this time it was only a scraped knee, something that Brennan could handle easily on his own.
He sat Violet on the bathroom counter, next to the sink, and opened the drawer that held the medicinal kit. He set it on the counter and pulled out the bottle of disinfectant and a strip of gauze, Violet silently watching his movements.
“Remind me again how this happened, Vi?” he asked as he opened the packet of gauze.
“W-we were climbing, and then I slipped, and my knee got scraped when I hit the ground.” She was still hiccupping slightly, but she wasn’t actively crying anymore, which was a good sign.
When he examined the scrape in question, Brennan could see chunks of dirt and gravel mixed with her blood. “Is your knee hurting under the scrape? Or is it just the scrape that’s bothering you?”
If it was her knee and not just the scrape, a trip to the outpost infirmary could still be in the cards for him and Violet today, even though she hated going there; Brennan wasn’t able to fix anything more than a surface injury, and the healers would have access to stronger pain relief tonics if something was truly wrong with her knee.
Violet hummed, her eyes closed in thought. “I think it’s just the scrape.”
“That’s good, that means I can fix this without taking you to the infirmary,” he smiled. “Now when I’m disinfecting this, just remember that you love me, okay?” Brennan joked as he uncapped the bottle and poured the liquid onto a strip of gauze.
“Of course, I love you,” Violet giggled.
“Yeah, but you might not after this. You ready?”
Violet was still smiling as she nodded, but the smile quickly fell from her face as she felt the sting of the disinfectant solution. She whimpered quietly, her hand latching onto his shirt.
Brennan knew she was a tough child—she was in pain more often than not with her condition, but he still tried to comfort her as he cleaned the scrape. “I know it hurts, Vi, but I’m almost done.”
Once he was sure the scrape was properly disinfected, Brennan lifted the now-dirty gauze off her skin and tossed it in the bin next to the sink.
“See, super quick. You’re being really brave right now,” he reassured her as he dug around in the kit for a bandage.
Once he found one that would cover the entirety of the scrape on her knee, he placed it on her skin, gently smoothing down the edges of the bandage before he pulled her into a hug. He could still hear her sniffling a bit here and there, and her small hand was still gripping his shirt, the other wrapping around his back.
“All better now, right?” he whispered against the top of her head. She nodded, face rubbing against the soft fabric of his shirt. There was probably going to be dirt and snot smeared on his shirt when she pulled her face away, but Brennan couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed; Violet was his baby sister, and there would eventually be a time when she wouldn’t need him like this—or when he couldn’t be there for her.
An ache formed in his chest when he thought about how he’d be leaving her, and leaving Mira, when he enrolled in Basgiath and crossed the parapet into the Rider’s Quadrant three years from now. He won’t be able to take care of them, take care of Violet, like this when he’s gone. His parents will still be here, of course, but there was a unique sense of responsibility for his sisters that Brennan felt as an older brother, a duty that was a part of him as much as his name was.
But that was in three years, and right now all he could do was focus on holding his sister and think about how glad he was that he was still here to take care of her.
“Thanks, Brennan,” she said in small voice.
“You’re welcome Vi. I’ll always be here to help you,” he replied, just as quiet.
She sniffled against his shirt. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, holding her tightly for another moment. “How do you feel about a game of chess? I spent all morning working on a new move to show you,” he said.
Violet pulled away from him, wiped her nose, and grinned. “I’d love that Bren! Maybe we can show dad after dinner too.”
“That sounds like a great plan,” he smiled. “But let’s get you cleaned up first, I don’t think mom and dad want you tracking dirt around the place.”
--
All in all, it was a quiet—but good—Saturday.
It was made even better when Brennan got to watch Violet thoroughly beat their dad using the series of moves he had taught her earlier in the day while Mira cheered her on. His baby sister really was brilliant.
As he watched his dad play at being a sore loser, his mom reading reports nearby with the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, a warmth tainted by a hint of melancholy settled inside him... he was really going to miss nights like this with his family when he crossed the parapet three years from now.