Logs:A Visitor From Fort
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| RL Date: 21 March, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, Lilah |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lilah visits the new Reaches clutch and chats with Irianke. |
| Where: Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Nimae/Mentions, R'oan/Mentions |
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| Niahvth welcomes Eliyaveith's presence at Fort Weyr, the only caveat being, My Eggs. Not hers. Not anyone else's. The sands themselves are off limits and after a moment to consider, the brooding dragon deigns to allow the Fortian queen on the ledges if she so chooses. A flash of her rider in the galleries, dressed down in clothes practically made for an Igen summer, is shared, just in case that's Eliyaveith's rider's intent. Irianke is in the galleries. She practically lives here, and this late afternoon is no different. She's wearing a bright tangerine dyed wrap dress that's cinched about the waist with a bright yellow scarf. A book is in her hands, but the pages aren't turning and the people who have come to egg watch are being watched in turn with surreptitious glances that take it all in: the couple bickering at the far end of the galleries, the young girls tittering and pointing at the gold egg, the elderly who sit here to soak in the warmth rather than egg watch specifically. All of it, it's all watched. Eliyaveith does settle on those ledges where Niahvth allows, the younger queen remaining as still as possible as she examines the eggs below. Of course, with examining, comes delight, shared in bright, yellow sunshine with the other dragon for her eggs. They are amazing, perfect, of course. Having been deposited in the bowl, it takes Lilah longer to join them in the hatching cavern, her own clothing simple, dark riding leathers that are not appropriate for the heat of the cavern, but are very appropriate for the drizzle of cold rain at Fort and the cold of Between. She moves through the galleries with seemingly barely a look to others that have come to egg-watch, her destination and focus on the other junior until she is close enough to offer the polite, "Fort's duties to you and your clutch, weyrwoman." Given a warning, Irianke shouldn't be surprised, but the feigned expression is well done indeed. Her eyes flare wider and a sudden, quick political smile emerges. Though she doesn't have to, there's plenty of room, the goldrider scoots to make room for Lilah. "High Reaches'," not Igen's, "Duties to Fort. Welcome. Let me guess, not Hattie, so you must be Lilah?" "Mhmm," is Lilah's answer to that, more of a hum than any sort of word as she moves to settle herself into that freed space and shimmy free of the suddenly-too-warm leather jacket. "I thought I would come to offer my congratulations on your clutch. You and Niahvth are doing well, I hope?" The goldrider doesn't have the patience for political smiles, it seems. There is only the weight of dark eyes on Irianke, studying. "We are well and doing well. High Reaches is a lovely place to be." Temporary or not. Irianke sets aside her unread book, pausing in the action only to look sideways away from Lilah to the bickering couple. "They've sat there arguing about something for the last two hours. They stop talking, look at the sands, and then one of them inevitably says something and it starts up again. I've been trying to read their lips and as that has failed, made an entire conversation and life up for them." "And what is it that brought them here today, arguing over her eggs on the Sand?" Lilah questions, a hint of wry humor and appreciation sparking in the depths of her gaze at the other goldrider's words. Irianke feigns a deeper voice, but can't quite shed her warm, fluid Igen accent to take the role on in its entirety. "Look at that egg over there, I wonder if there's a green in it." Her voice shifts higher suddenly, "A green? Like that greenrider you were eyeing last week when all those greens were rising? I saw you." Lower, "What do you mean? What's wrong with you?" Higher, "You're infuriating. Stop touching my ass." Then her normal voice complete with a twist of her lips, all wry and just a touch ashamed. "So on and so forth." The impressions manage to draw a breath of laughter from Lilah, her lips curving into a subtle, wry smile before she offers to Irianke, "At least they are more entertaining than the girls giggling over the gold egg. That is too predictable. If only they knew what they were in for, if they were to Impress her." Her gaze draws finally to the eggs at that, first seeking out that lone egg to assess it thoughtfully. "You would think weyrbred girls would," remarks Irianke. "A life constantly in the spotlight sounds appealing or could look appealing until it's actually your reality." The words sound like it could be a complaint, but the tone that accompanies them is understanding. "I didn't expect to Impress. It was a lark really, something to stay in one place longer than my family wanted to, they asked and the eggs hatched two days later. I'm not sure, in retrospect," remarks the Igenite, "The Weyrwoman was very pleased." "I am not sure any Weyrwoman is, when it comes to her potential replacement. Unless, I suppose, she has groomed them personally to Impress," murmurs Lilah in answer, her words quiet as she considers that with a study of the golden egg, there. "That, at least, is something that you will not have to deal with, I hear." She pauses, before she shares her own, "I always expected to Impress. I was at it long enough that eventually I would have to, given the odds. But, given the odds, it should have been a green. And now we're both stuck in the spotlight, aren't we?" Irianke's bare shoulders twitch upward, the warm and sudden cheerfulness of the infectious variety for many. "I don't mind it. There's a certain art to being in the public eye and it agrees with my personality. I don't think Nimae has any regrets now, though some might say sending me here was a punishment. Or education." The latter of the two appraisals gains a thoughtfulness, though the warm cheer doesn't fade. "And what do you think it was?" Lilah questions, curiously. On the subject of being in the public eye, she says nothing, but, well--. That cheerfulness only has the goldrider's attention even more, as if expecting something from it, but not sure what. "My being sent here or how to manage the spotlight?" Irianke asks, clarification needed before she answers. "Either, both," Lilah counters easily. "Oh, look," Irianke's eyes flick to the arguing pair. "They're leaving. And holding hands. Wait, no, his hand is on her ass. I don't even understand." Relationships are baffling. But the questions? These are the questions that won't go away, not with any deft silver tongued maneuvering. "Education. I've been educated since the day I arrived, even though I was brought in to educate. High Reaches' riders have spirit." It does manage to distract Lilah briefly, her gaze sliding to the departing couple. When she catches sight of that hand as Irianke points it out, the goldrider even smiles wryly. "The sex must be amazing," is what she offers in dry explanation before her attention returns to Irianke. "That sounds like something to drink over while we talk, if only you weren't sands-bound." A pause, before she's questioning, "This isn't her first clutch, correct?" "Seventh. But her first by a bronze. I'm not sands bound, but I prefer to be close to her when I can. It's a welcome vacation from some duties," is the real confession, voice lowered and all, that sets Irianke's eyes twinkling. "And you can have amazing sex without a relationship. I don't know why anyone would bother with such constant bickering." The Reachian weyrwoman's gaze tracks the exiting pair, her nose wrinkling at the hand that slips from bottom to tucked just underneath the woman's waistband. "What is it like? With the eggs, the hatching. When all of those dragons find their own riders and are no longer hers?" questions Lilah lightly, for once not attempting to press at the answers that she seeks from the older goldrider. To the last, she adds simply, "Sometimes, you find your feelings are more than just amazing sex. Even if those feelings only end up hurting you." "I would say I'm lucky not to have had those feelings yet, and yet, I imagine others would say I am very unlucky to not have had that sort of soulcrushing love for anyone other than Niahvth." Irianke's aloud reflections end with her looking at the sands, the eggs, and her, now, dozing soulmate, possibly considering Lilah's first question. Lilah's gaze slides sideways towards Irianke, before she offers, "I would say, then, that it only matters how you feel." But those dark eyes remain on the weyrwoman, waiting. "I concur." Irianke rests a hand on the book at her side and slants Lilah a quick smile. "Your dragon is the one up there? Eliyaveith?" "That is her," Lilah confirms, not even bothering to glance up to the large, bronzey gold that occupies the ledges, absolutely charmed by the eggs below. After all, how many golds could possibly be there? "A question I get a lot here," Irianke says, the book finding itself back in her lap, an idle thumb thumbing through the corners though she doesn't look down at them at all, "Do you miss home, and it used to make me pause, to wonder when Igen became home." "I wonder if it isn't the bond that we share with our dragons. It is obviously their home. They were clutched there, hatched there. Their whole family is there, and we can't help but feel the same," is Lilah's thoughtful response, considering that as she slides a look over to Irianke instead and then down to her book, briefly, as she flips through the pages. "Did you know Aishani?" Irianke asks suddenly. The book is a cookbook, or rather, a bound set of recipes in a neat, clipped script. Dark emotions flicker in dark eyes, answer enough, perhaps, before Lilah confirms with a soft tip of a nod towards the other woman. "I did. She was quite the woman and friend. I don't think I will ever meet another like her," she says simply. "Her dragon was clutched and hatched at Monaco but given she stayed here after," After all that, that Irianke doesn't go into but trails off with, "She must have considered High Reaches her home. Even now," says the Igenite turned Reachian, "Niahvth forgets Igen. Our daily life there. She remembers the dragons who reach out and chat. She remembers Breileth, but... she would consider herself as Reaches as the next as it is her home for now. I guess we're well-matched in our unsentimentality." "I am sure that anyone could certainly come to think of any Weyr as home," Lilah agrees, her brows curving slightly as she considers Irianke. "After all, our Weyrs are not so different. We all want the same things, have the same traditions and the same goals." She falls silent, a moment, to glance towards those eggs and Niahvth on the sands with another thoughtful look. Finally, she offers, "For what it's worth, as I told the Weyrleader, I think that you are doing right by both Weyrs, to share the clutch; to exchange riders. Our Weyrs should be drawing closer during the Interval, not further apart." "Aye," is Irianke's sparse agreement. Her smile, long since gone even if the warmth hasn't, reappears in a sidelong fashion. She stands, shaking her dress down and doing the unspeakable of repositioning her chest in that wrap dress of hers. "Come, Niahvth and I have had our fill of drinking each other's perspiring scents in. Would you like to have that drink?" Lilah nods, as if expecting that rather than surprised by the invitation. She draws up from her own seat, slinging the jacket over her shoulder but not yet redawning it as she glances towards the girls still there to fawn over that gold egg. But, she will follow where Irianke leads. "The picture of stunning elegance," says Irianke, her voice a few notches louder than conversational. It's not for Lilah's sake she says it, but in spite of her chiding words, there's a kindness that gleams in her eyes as she passes those girls. "You," she says to the eldest of them, a fifteen turn old with thick callused hands, "Would you like to Stand for Niahvth's clutch? I am told it's a prerogative I can claim even while here temporarily." The girl, wide eyed, stammers her acceptance, and Irianke flickers her fingers. "Tell the Headwoman and she'll get you situated." The exchange takes five minutes top, and she's again walking towards the bowl. "I'm afraid you will have to drink on your own. I've pledged my sobriety for the rest of this month after the clutch party." "Have you?" Lilah questions, her brows curving up in surprise at that. Apparently as well versed as she seems on rumors, the rumors of the clutch party have not made it to Fort or her ears, yet. She falls in line with the older goldrider, only glancing back once on the way to the bowl towards that young teenager that Irianke just made exceptionally happy. "Yes." Irianke says succinctly, her path set for the Snowasis on this cool spring evening. A short elaboration comes in the way of, "Small penace for what I could have prevented but didn't. One of your riders, actually, swept me quite literally off my feet." There's no boot anymore, but a glance casts down to her once injured foot. There is a gossipy curiosity to the younger weyrwoman, a ingrained desire to know things that has her questioning, "Which rider?" But, she will not press Irianke to break that penance as she joins her, drinking for both of them as the two weyrwomen get to know each other carefully. "Ah," laughs Irianke, "Fortunately for my lovers, I don't make it a habit of kiss and telling." Which already gives more information without the naming of names. While the other woman drinks for two, the Igenite nurses a tea and keeps the conversation light, veering away from answering most questions, as is her way, but kindly not asking questions of Lilah. |
Comments
Edyis (04:10, 22 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
I love all the little things that get exposed, and seeing the ways that Irianke has come to value high reaches.
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