Logs:A Sympathetic Goldilocks
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| RL Date: 18 March, 2015 |
| Who: H'vier, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After the clutching party and not getting to stay at Irianke's, H'vier comes home to find Goldilocks asleep in his bed. It's just right. Except that he came home. |
| Where: Spinners' Haunt Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, V'ros/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Some vague references to adult themes. Back-dated. Lycinea's party dress, but longer and belted in the middle |
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| Once the clutching feast took a turn with cake on the clutchsire's face, Lycinea absconded with vittles from the feast and conscripted a kitchenhand too young to know he didn't have to help her just because it was 'for the weyrwoman' to help her take some of Irianke's other known favorites to her Weyr to quickly set it up for post-feast frayed nerve. She was going to do more but on her way back through the bowl, she saw a tall figure whisking a smaller one into the weyr. So instead she made for an elevator dragon, taking the covered tray with her. Since the tall figure, seen only in the distance and in the relative dark of the bowl had to be H'vier, his weyr should be unoccupied for the next while (if not the whole night) and that's better than the dorms on a night of drunken revelry that Lycinea wants no part of. The fire is built up pleasantly, the tray of feast food is on his table, a bottle of booze still corked beside it, untouched by the blonde, still dressed nicely from the feast, asleep on top of his bed. There's no sign of crumbs, so she probably didn't eat cake in bed, so that's something. The weyr is unoccupied by its owner for some time yet. But after H'vier gets a ride up to his ledge, because Reisoth doesn't want to leave the sands, he makes his way inside. He's not surprised to find signs of life there, even less surprised that it's Lycinea, but he doesn't try to wake her up. The booze is grabbed from the table and he uncorks it on his way to the bed. He just stands beside it once he's there, though, looking down at the girl in her dress while she can't complain about it. Given the way Lycinea sleeps, unless H'vier is inclined to make a noise, touch her or otherwise do something to penetrate her somnolence, this is one thing that he can have pretty much total control over. She's not a particularly attractive sleeper, of course, sprawled as she is across as much space as she can take up, but she hasn't has enough time asleep to muss her pretty up-do and she does look awfully defenseless. H'vier watches her without trying to wake her. No doubt there are thoughts she wouldn't want him to be having going through his head. But he doesn't act on them. Not here, anyway. He turns, booze still in hand, to disappear again on his ledge. He's not gone for very long, but it's long enough that he's a little more relaxed when he returns. This time he changes before coming to join Lya, nudging her as he climbs in in an attempt to make enough room for both of them. If Lya knew, she'd probably be grossed out and also relieved. Thankfully, she slumbers on until H'vier's nudging has her rolling onto her side and curling up. She's still in the middle of the bed, but she's taking up less space there. She might have slept on beyond that, only the belt around her middle must be digging into her ribcage for she wakes abruptly with an, "Ow!" and fumbling hands going to her middle as she rolls back onto her back to get at the belt. The result is that one leg ends up accidentally draped over H'vier's. And she freezes. That wasn't there before. There's no more movement from H'vier once he's settled into the space he'll be taking up. Other than the requisite breathing and all. He must recognize her freezing for what it is because he murmurs firmly, "I'm not sleeping on the couch." Given their proximity, H'vier's can probably feel that Lycinea's suddenly tense form relaxes a bit at the sound of his voice; who knows what she was imagining in the moments between freezing and his murmur. She doesn't delay in pulling her leg off his and shifting awkwardly sideways even as her fingers find the belt's clasp and work it open. In her head there may have been a beginning to this sentence, but aloud only the second half is offered, "I just thought you would be with the weyrwoman longer. I wasn't asleep that long, was I?" As if he'd know. "I was only there for a few minutes." He doesn't mention that the weyrwoman wouldn't have let him stay if he'd tried, of course. Or that he didn't come up here right away after he left her weyr. But it's an answer and it'll have to work because he doesn't say anything else. "Oh," just 'oh'. "Do you want me to go back to the dorms?" The blonde asks shifting over on the bed more and pulling off her belt. "No." H'vier doesn't have to think about that. But he shifts slightly onto his back to look over his shoulder at the girl. "Not unless you want to." Then he returns to the way he was laying before. There's silence for some moments, but Lya doesn't seem to be moving, so she's probably not leaving. When she speaks again, it's a genuine and softly delivered, "I'm sorry you had a rough night." "Don't worry about it." H'vier isn't in the most communicative mood right now, obviously. "But thanks." His voice is neutral, a little distant, but there's the sense that it's not his dragon's fault. He's just not completely present. "Are you okay?" comes as though an afterthought. Her fingertips are all that have touched by the time H'vier asks his question, just lightly to his shoulder, but rather than following through on what was probably going to be an attempt at comforting gesture, the hand pulls back abruptly, as if he'd bitten. "Oh, I'm fine. I just... you know the feasts aren't really 'my thing.'" He must have felt the touch, but he gives no indication of it. Or of it leaving so abruptly. "Not sure they're mine, either," says H'vier before he's falling into silence again. There's another moment of quiet before Lya says again, softer, "I'm sorry. This was... it was supposed to be a really good night for you." She sounds sad, and her look, if he should look, is helpless. "Go back to sleep, Lya," is all that H'vier says to the girl. But he's moving now, sitting up and reaching for the booze he'd set on the nightstand. He looks back at her, gaze lingering for a few moments. But then he's rising and heading toward the couch. Maybe he'll sleep there, after all. She chews her lip, but doesn't move, until he does. Then she's sitting up quickly, reaching a hand after him as he rises, "Wait-" The word is choked and her expression uncertain. Lya looks troubled. "I-" She starts and stop. Then, very unsure, "Do you want a hug?" The fact that he pauses to consider it at all probably means something, but H'vier says, simply, "No." And then he's turning again. Lycinea is proven excellent at doing what she's told, so she's scrambling up out of the bed to follow him. She's going to hug him. She will, unless he bodily stops her, in which case whatever part of him is doing the stopping (within reason) is getting the hug. He probably hears her scrambling, but he keeps moving toward the couch. H'vier doesn't get there before she catches him, though, and he doesn't try to keep the hug from happening. In fact, he moves an arm gently around her shoulders, his thumb rubbing unconsciously, and waits for her to break away. She holds herself to him (more against his side than front because that's how she came upon him) for a full ten count. A slow one. Then Lya lets go and so long as H'vier doesn't seek to keep her, she'll dart back some paces like a nervous runner after stealing a proffered sugar cube. She looks up at him uncertainly. Maybe she's worried the hug wasn't okay. It's not like she has a lot of experience with this whole physical contact thing. H'vier doesn't attempt to keep her there against her will. He does look at her, though, and there's a brief smile offered. The gesture is appreciated. But he still settles himself down on his couch and takes a long drink from that bottle. Lya stands indecisively some moments and then moves to sit beside him, but not, definitely not, touching him. She reaches her hands up and begins removing the pins holding her braids in place and taking down her hair. It's a slow process, but she's patient and thorough, and silent. He more or less ignores the fact that she joins him at first. It's not until she's moving her arms to start letting her hair down that he looks at her. "What're you doing?" H'vier probably doesn't mean the hair, since he can see that pretty well. "Just... taking my hair down," Lya answers, even if that's not what he meant. "You don't want to talk, so I'm just... sitting," keeping him company. "And I have to take my hair down anyway. The pins will give me a headache if I leave them in all night." This last is a little defensive. "There's nothing to talk about," H'vier assures her, slouching down further into the couch's cushions as his gaze turns to the fire. "When you're done, would you mind putting the kettle on for tea?" Why he'd want tea when he has booze is anyone's guess. She doesn't press him to talk. Or to admit there are things that could be talked about. "Sure," comes with actual relief in Lycinea's tone. It's unusual, to be sure, but perhaps because she can do something for him when his night has been so shitty makes her feel a little less helpless, even is putting the kettle on is something she normally would almost definitely tell him to do himself. She speeds her work with the pins, her hair shaking out into waves as she finishes and the pins are set in a clump on the end table before she sets about doing as he's asked. "Thanks." That's it. H'vier takes another drink from the bottle, then sets it aside. Instead of watching Lya, he lifts a hand just enough to look at the split of skin on his knuckles. "You gonna ask to stand?" he finally asks, curious, once she rises from the couch. There are some moments of quiet that follow his question while Lya puts water in the kettle and places it on the hook over the fire. It's only once she's sunk down onto her knees next to the hearth and as she stares at the kettle that certainly hasn't yet boiled that she answers. "No." It's resolute. "I thought about it, but... There will be a lot more clutches before I'd be too old to Stand. If that's what I decide I want to do, in the end, but right now, I want to be Weyrwoman Irianke's assistant, even if Farideh made fun of me for it, and I may not get to do this for very long, so I want all the time I can have. If I'm a candidate, I can't. And I'm not even sure I'd like having a dragon, anyway." Now she looks at him and asks quietly, "Are you disappointed?" H'vier listens quietly to her answer, no interruptions but a pensive expression settling on his face. The last makes him focus a little more directly on Lya, but he shakes his head. "No, not disappointed. Relieved, maybe." But he doesn't offer an explanation for it. Of course he doesn't. "Relieved?" Lycinea asks uncertainly. Her brows dip and she looks at the kettle harder. It will boil faster that way, definitely. "You wouldn't want me for Reisoth's eggs?" She asks it quietly and slowly. "It doesn't have anything to do with whose eggs they are. I just don't think you should be making that kind of commitment when you don't know what you want to begin with." Because, as everyone knows, people decide everything before making impulsive life decisions all the time. H'vier sighs as he adds, "And I guess I kind of like not having to share you with a dragon just yet." The blonde twists to look at the bronzerider for a moment. She could say something snarky, or something scolding, but she doesn't. She just looks at him a moment. Once Lya's eyes are back on the kettle, she says, "I suppose we would have to stop going to gathers for a while." Not that they've been to any together lately. "Haven't we already?" is the mild question that comes to mind right away. H'vier has certainly noticed the lack of Lycinea in his life, compared to what it used to be. "No!" Lya turns big eyes toward the bronzerider, giving him a look. Then she sighs, lips settling into almost a pout. "I've just been busier than usual. And the last time I wanted to go to a gather, it was because I wanted to see Igen and I didn't want you to make fun of me for letting Farideh get to me, so I went with V'ros." She turns back to pull the kettle as it starts to whistle its readiness for the tea leaves. "We could go to one soon." She suggests, "There's a weaver festival next seven," which means more clothes for her~ "and then Benden gather, then there's Ista Hold the following seven if you wanted to go closer to home." This is about the gathers, right? It's easy to pretend that. "Let's wait to make sure I'm not getting banished or transferred to Honshu or something before we go making any plans, hmm?" Sure, those might be severe for a silly little fight, but H'vier is perfectly well aware of his standing with the Weyrleader. "Wait, what?!" Lya demands, turning sharply toward the bronzerider, which results in "Fuck! Ow!" as her jerk has the hot hot hot kettle swinging briefly into contact with her hand. It can't be so different from occasions in the kitchens though, so at least she doesn't drop the kettle. She does make short work of setting it on the table so she can eye the smooth red mark on the back of her hand before heading quite calmly for H'vier's wash basin. The cursing pulls H'vier into more focused attention. He even rises to his feet, though he doesn't rush toward her. Standing up just makes the booze he's already had a little more noticeable, so it's toward her, but steadily, that he goes. "You okay? I think I have some numbweed that should still be good." For all he's not moving too quickly, he sounds kind of concerned. Lya splashes water into the basin from the pitcher and submerges her hand. It's not cold, but it's the wrong season to grab snow from the ledge. "Numbweed would be good. I'll be fine. It just hurts. There's no blister though." Nothing serious. "What did you mean about getting banished or transferred? Just because Irianke thought you'd look good with cake on your face?" She's looking at him with concern. As if he's the one in some kind of trouble here. There is a measure of bewilderment to her her expression as well. Maybe she doesn't know. H'vier watches her hand go under the water for a moment, then turns to get his stash of numbweed. On his way back, he says, "Not the cake. Breaking someone's nose. I think his head is fine." You know, besides the nose part. "Probably would've heard something by now if it wasn't." H'vier sets the jar down near her, opened, then turns to actually get the tea for the hot water. "You broke someone's nose? At the party?" Lya almost squeaks it in her alarm. "Why would you do that? Would they really transfer you away?" Her eyes are wide with real worry, taking a step toward the bronzerider, but not removing her hand from the water yet. She must have had enough burns in her life to know to try to stop as much of the burning as possible before numbing herself. "I was angry." Despite the fact that he starts this answer, he ends it with another, "It's nothing you need to worry about, Lya. Sort of figured you might prefer that option, anyway." H'vier only pours on mug and his gaze settles there while the tea steeps. "You need to go to the infirmary?" The first makes Lycinea frown. The second makes the frown a scowl, "Don't tell me what I need to worry about or not. Why would I prefer you be sent away?" As if nothing bad has ever happened between them. "You're my friend. Then I'd be down one friend, and I'd have to find someone else, or be lonely. Do you realize how hard it is for me to make friends?" Lya's tone is annoyed and a little scolding. She flicks her hand free of the water and dries it on a towel. "No, I've had worse in the kitchen. I'll be fine." She's agitated and it comes through, even when she's not talking about the thing that has agitated her. She dips her fore-finger into the numbweed and smooths it carefully over the small burn. "You have other friends. And I'm sure every single one of them would prefer to have as much distance between you and I as possible. I'm not stupid, Lya. I know my weaknesses. And I don't want to see you get hurt because of them." H'vier takes his mug and returns to the couch, sitting and sinking down heavily. He trusts her to care for the burn, apparently. Lya doesn't like what she's hearing. It's obvious in her expression, but she doesn't say anything until she's finished tending the burn. Then she moves to sit back on the couch. "Are you really concerned you're going to hurt me?" She's asking him earnestly. "I don't know," he admits after some consideration. "I wasn't." But then H'vier lost his temper and hurt someone, and it seems to be bothering him. Even if he might not regret who he hurt very much. "What did he do? Is it something I'm likely to do?" Lycinea tries to look at this logically, though there's something in the way she's looking at him, a vulnerability that says there's more of her emotions tied up in these questions than she'd like to admit. "Probably not," is the only answer that H'vier gives to her questions. Then, "I don't want to talk about it, okay? I just want to drink my tea and go to bed." He doesn't look at her, maybe because he doesn't expect her to like this answer, but he drinks his tea and lapses into silence anyway. Lya holds her breath a moment and then lets it out slowly. "Okay." Just that word. Then, that word and shifting closer to lean her head against his arm. "I don't think you'll hurt me if you can help it. And I think you'd try hard to help it." It's quiet, but resolved. H'vier makes a sound that's acknowledging more than meaningful. He won't argue the point right now, but he won't tell her to go away, either. He'll drink his tea, try to relax and hopefully be able to sleep before too long. Unfortunately, for him, when 'before too long' comes, Lycinea has dozed off already. Against his arm. That's okay. When 'before too long' comes, H'vier doesn't actually want to get up very much. So they can just sleep there until one of them gets too uncomfortable to stay. Will either of them? Could, would H'vier once they've managed, in their sleep, so shift such that Lya's slender form is pressed up along his chest, draped partly across his lap? When H'vier wakes, because other limbs are falling asleep, he's definitely not going to say anything about their position. He probably should, but at least he doesn't do anything else, either. Except fall back asleep. When Lycinea wakes, it's with a start, jerking up abruptly. "Shit, what time is it?" Was H'vier still asleep? She squints toward the entrance to the Weyr as if trying to divine the time by how much light is filtering in, if any. "Relax," comes H'vier's rough, sleepy voice. "It's still dark out." His voice becomes a little more strained as his consciousness starts to remind him that he hasn't been in the most comfortable of positions for the last however many hours. "Dark, dark? Like night, dark?" It's certainly likely that Lya hasn't been asleep too long in their present positions because such intimacy isn't a part of her usual pattern. She presses a hand flat to his chest to push herself a little away, her features, as can be seen in the dim light of the low fire, confused. She shivers. "Couple hours till dawn, at least." When she pushes away from him, which he lets her do without moving or protest, H'vier stretches out his legs and torso, moving a hand to conveniently cover things he doesn't want her attention drawn to. "Go take the bed. Warmer there." It takes Lya a moment to first calm down and then think. Her hand lingers on his chest while she becomes a little more wakeful. "Okay." She shifts a little woosily onto her feet and looks down at him, expectant. He looks back at her after a few moments of her standing there, arching a brow. "Go," says H'vier with a wave of his other hand. Her puzzled, "Aren't you coming?" at least explains the look or expectation. "In a bit," he tells her, turning his head as he leans forward to look for the booze he'd set aside earlier. Lya bites her lower lip, not moving from where she stands. "But it'll be cold without you." H'vier's gaze lifts to Lya again, not annoyed so much as frustrated. "Fine," he says, standing up, the bottle held in front of him as he makes his way to the bed, following or leading depending on whether she moves right away or not. She does, she got what she wanted. But once they're at the bed, in the bed Lya is still only a pair of moments before she slides over to lay against H'vier, her from making light contact with his. H'vier lays on his back when he gets into bed, booze set on the stand. He relaxes immediately, and Lya touching him doesn't change that. He enjoys physical contact, after all. He doesn't, however, make any attempt to touch or hold her. He might even see like he's ignoring her presence altogether. That seems to sit well with Lya. She begins to relax in turn. "Can you make sure I'm awakens about... Four-thirty?" She winces once the mah is done and the number delivered. He's already starting to doze off, so his answer is a quiet rumble of acknowledgement before he repeats the time so she doesn't have to wonder if H'vier actually heard her or not. "Thanks," is simple. That she burrows closer? Only simple in action. |
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