Logs:A Wedding to Remember
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| RL Date: 11 August, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia, Braeden, Brieli, Devaki, E'ten, Issedi, K'del, Leova, Magdesse, N'rov, Yuliye |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, High Reaches Hold, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Devaki and Issedi get married. Apparently, Braeden and Yuliye already have. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 25, Month 6, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions |
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| High Reaches Hold Isolated on its westward-jutting peninsula, from the landward side High Reaches Hold appears burrowed deep into the mountain, with only a few shuttered windows overlooking the rows of cotholds that line the river road. Its double courtyards appear designed more for transportation or defense than for welcoming visitors. From the seaward side, the slant of the windows overlooking the fine deep bay attempts to ward off the sea winds, the higher stories evading the less pleasant odors prevalent at low tide. Today, the courtyards are full to overflowing with visitors and locals alike. Most of the stalls have been set up further afield, lining the main road that weaves inwards to the hold, and filling the orchards. The courtyards are bustling too, however, with harpers on call to provide dance music as well as more sedate performances throughout the day and night. However cold and bleak the Hold's setting may be, inside, its colors of dark blue and tan act as neutrals for the warmer, brighter hues of its llama-wool tapestries and rugs. Below the Hold, oval caverns house lengths of seasoned wood for its shipbuilders, and to its outskirts are several minor Crafthalls including a glass-smith's shop. Though the Hold's main access is by sea, the river road leads to its Weyr and the rest of Pern, while minor roads lead to a few outlying Holds and the distant lighthouse. Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. High Reaches has put on a beautiful day for a wedding, and for a gather: warm sunshine, cloudless skies. While the stalls do an excellent trade out in the gather grounds, a more select group of dignitaries witnessed the - predictably beautiful - wedding of Issedi and Devaki. Word has been spreading already about the surprise appearance of Lady Edeline of Tillek, who has been rarely seen since the death of her son-- and who is now visibly pregnant. It seems, somehow, like a good sign - and so too does Lord Aughan's appearance, given his own former relationship to the bride. Now, with the wedding mark exchanged and the formalities concluded, it's time for the formal presentation in front of the hold. "Lady Issedi and Lord Devaki," calls the herald, standing on the balcony above the Great Hall, introducing the newlyweds. Devaki, or Lord Devaki, as the case may be, looks completely at ease in the rich finery of his wedding garb, one hand smoothing down the material of his tunic, while his other arm is crooked to accommodate his new wife's hand. While he does smile at Issedi, his attention soon turns to the crowd, gaze flickering here and there to, perhaps, take note of those that have attended, and those that haven't, as well. Lady Edeline, in particular, receives a nod and smile that bespeaks some sort of familiarity, turning briefly to Issedi to murmur something before inclining his head towards the Tillek Lady Holder's direction. With Ysavaeth so close to clutching, K'del is representing High Reaches Weyr without Iolene - and with a large number of other High Reachians, of course - and in relatively new formal gear. He attended the actual wedding, of course, and has now purloined himself a glass of whisky from the trays going around, holding back to watch the presentation. There's a thin line to his smile at mention of Devaki and his bride: rather forcibly polite, though he applauds quietly as others do. "A lovely couple," he remarks, rather more to himself than to anyone else. While Leova does look up toward the presentation as it's announced, afterwards she's stealing glimpses of Lady Edeline again: now and again, never too often, never too long. She whispers now to her escort, only to press her mouth together when he'd have her laugh. A stunning wedding on a beautiful day - who would be more moved than a young woman presumably in love? So Brieli, despite her usual stoicism, looks a touch misty as the couple is formally presented - which might be suspicious in and of itself, but unless one knows her, why would it be? The tall dark goldrider is dressed in white for the occasion, both impractical and eye-catching, though she's put herself amongst the crowd for this formal presentation, amongst what could be called 'her people' - that being those of High Reaches, though notably, not near K'del. The herald's proclamation is applauded enthusiastically, and she might even wipe away a tear. Sniff. Forgive Azaylia for actually shedding a tear, though she's not well aquainted with either bride or groom. Whether required of her or not, the young gold weyrling had sat through the actual ceremony in awe at the loveliness. The gather is much the same, taking in the sights with a glass of cool juice in hand. Just juice. "Isn't this... just ever so wonderful?" Breathlessly offered to Brieli, not far from her friend and even locking arms if it's allowed. Her eyes will remain on the couple, unable to turn away and not making any honest attempts otherwise. Is it any surprise that certain Fort riders are keeping to themselves? Some pay more attention to the actual proceedings than others, and as N'rov hangs out with his clutchmates, his own applause is more polite than anything else: nod-clap-smile, smile-clap, clap-clap. He murmurs to the others, "What do you think? Thrilled? Un-thrilled?" Magdesse hangs back with the rest of the portion of the Fortian entourage that consists of her clutchmates, the young Jasper wingrider for once looking coiffed and kempt (although perhaps a bit more casual than she ought.) She is dressed in the earthy tones of her dragon, with a hint of blue beneath her lightweight blazer. The presentation after the wedding is met with applause and a wide grin, and if either E'ten or N'rov rib her for getting a bit misty eyed, so be it. "I rather like it, I think," Mags quips to N'rov. After the presentation of the bride and groom, the herald opens his mouth to make a second announcement-- and he, surprisingly, seems quietly unsure about it. "And Lord and Lady High Reaches Hold. Lord Braeden and... the Lady Yuliye." Yuliye? Lady High Reaches Hold? Since... when? But there they are: tall, blonde Braeden, resplendent in blue velvet, and the dark, striking niece of Lord Aughan of Crom, both smiling prettily for the assembled crowd. She clutches his arm; he looks stiff and formal, despite his smile. "Wonderful," Brieli echoes, though it might be distractedly - now that she's looked ever-so-enthralled at the proceedings, she'll turn away though Azaylia won't, looking through the crowd with a sharp, dark gaze, possibly looking for that certain group of Fort riders - or more likely, N'rov in particular. She won't stop the other weyrling from linking arms however, if only because she's distracted by the next announcement... and the herald's lack of certainly. In a murmur, "Well, he could have sounded a bit more... into it, couldn't he?" But even so, she can't quite put away her smirk; only manages to by coughing into her hand in a ladylike fashion. There's a susurrus of surprise from amidst the High Reaches Weyr contingent... and from Tillek, too. And High Reaches Hold. And even Crom, too, rather as though no one at all knows anything about this. When it comes to a Gather, there's more than a good reason to be in attendance and properly attired in nice slacks with a shirt to match. If it's a rich rustic brown, then E'ten's not consciously in Fortian colors as a fashion statement. As for the wedding itself, he's clapping where it's permissible but otherwise quiet. Observing. And above all, not misty-eyed like some of the others he's spotted. Standing with N'rov and Magdesse, he remarks, "It's a wedding but I do hope that they'll have a happy life together." N'rov goes for the literal ribbing, aiming to elbow Magdesse if lightly: "Well, well, well. Ladies popping out /everywhere/." He eyes this one assessingly, though not so much that he moves out of E'ten's shadow, the only brown that of his knot. Quietly, "Maybe they'll all shake hands and get along." Azaylia's brows drop, a sudden confused cloud on her otherwise bright and shiny visage. The light touch of kohl brings a sharpness to her gaze that isn't otherwise there, "Mm." Tight lipped response is for Brieli's observation on the herald's delivery. It's only then that she feels the weight of her light scowl, overcompensating by lifting her eyebrows far too high, turning to sip at her juice. It's an improvement, the news is quite surprising, after all. "Ow!" Magdesse says to N'rov while she aims a playful swat at him. Other than that, she's happy to watch the proceedings. However, Magdesse's response to the presentation of Braeden and Yuliye is an unnecessarily although inadvertently loud, "Wait, what's the fuss about?" as the counter to everyone else's murmurings of surprise. So they get their gasps, and a lot of whispering, Leova's among the latter... and her gaze, it slides to K'del. Arching fine brows, Brieli is surprised - a happy occasion that Azaylia isn't happy about? Will the world stop spinning? Glancing sidelong at her fellow weyrling's less-than-thrilled expression, she turns her gaze to K'del as well, if briefly, then tugs at the other goldrider's arm. With a quiet aside, "Pretend to be pleased, worry later. And come with me, I have to find my date?" And perhaps a dance for Aza? She'll imply that with both tone and significant look, if that will get that look off her face and get her moving. Someone paying close attention to the more recent pair of newlyweds might well see a slight tightening of Devaki's fingers by his side, although the smile that's plastered onto his expression is well-practiced enough to fool most regardless. There's a slight dimming in Issedi's radiant smile, too, when she looks at her brother, before she murmurs something to Devaki. He waits the requisite amount of pause before settling a hand in Issedi's back and guiding her towards the Lady Edeline, purposefully taking them away from the in-laws. Greetings are exchanged, and those nearby can undoubtedly hear Issedi's pleased exclamation and blithely innocent questioning about when the child is due. With a light touch to his wife's shoulder, the former exile excuses himself from the group, and makes his way towards K'del and Leova, his path deliberate. K'del's attempting to keep his face neutral, which is pretty obvious, really, for anyone who happens to glance in his way. He catches Leova's glance and attempts to shrug, to smile, all innocence. These things... happen? A moment later, he's lifting his glass in her direction: a toast. In doing that, he rather misses Brieli's glance - and Devaki's approach, too. It rather seems to be Yuliye instead of Braeden who leads the way down the stairs after the defection of Devaki and his bride-- and she is looking particularly smug about it, never mind that her (presumed) wedding has had none of the fanfare. "Darling," she says, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, "I need to go talk to my uncle. I'll see you later." It's rather beyond the edge of flirty, well into innuendo. Azaylia follows her friend's glance to the Weyrleader, her gaze evening into simple curiosity. "I know." Guilty whimper for the advice, she's let out a gentle, fruity exhale. There's a distracted heaving of her glass for K'del's toast, but Brieli's lovelife is much more interesting. "Oh?" Turning, she's easily led away by the other goldrider, now searching with thinly veiled excitement. "I'm so glad he's going to be here." Lord Braeden forgotten for priorities that come with youth, "I want you to have fun." E'ten lowers his head to murmur towards Magdesse, even though N'rov's not out of range of hearing his words either. "I think this is one of those times we just listen and learn." Even if the brownrider's words weren't a whisper, he's curious about this set of events to the extent of scanning the area for another spot where the trio can go to next. "Anyone find a spot we can converge on before the other festivities kick off?" Leova's lips don't tighten to ward off laughter, this time. She gives K'del back a one-cornered near-smile and a one-shouldered shrug to cross the distance between them, before stepping back into the curve of Anvori's arm. And then, looking beyond, her eyes widen: she's seen the now-Lord Devaki approaching, even if he hasn't. N'rov makes as though to shield his eyes, hand going up to his forehead. He asides to Magdesse, "There was only supposed to be one wedding today. Right? Or maybe it happened awhile before, but everybody looks so surprised." As to another spot.. "Hang on." It's his turn to search the crowd, or rather another Weyr's portion thereof, gray eyes glancing hurriedly off its Weyrleader when he proves to be abandoned by his juniors. In another moment, though, he says with more relief, "Hang on." They're coming! "You're not ducking the dancing, are you?" Brieli has to sigh softly at that guilty sound; "Azaylia..." But she doesn't finish - her friend is already distracted and on to something else, which is just as well for her. Though what all the dignitaries are up to is certainly of interest, drifting off through the crowd to where she figures any Fortians might be lurking seems to be the better plan at the moment. The former will only give her more questions while the latter... well. Might be more productive, depending on how you look at productivity. Catching a glimpse of what looks like it might be N'rov and pulling Azaylia with her, "I will have fun, regardless? And don't feel badly - you look like everyone feels - it's just not wise for us?" While it may be a formal event and drinks are being offered around, Devaki isn't one of those with a glass in his hand. He greets Leova first, with a tip of head and lingering, tightly curious smile, then K'del, "Glad that the Weyr could come in support," he begins, his tone friendly enough, perhaps to the disappointment of some. A beat later, his voice lowers, though his expression is still conversational and, it seems, pleasant: "I heard a rumor you're to thank for... lubricating the Yuliye situation. Or did I mishear? So many rumors about our new Lady Holder..." "Ohhh," intones Magdesse at E'ten's explanation. She watches Yuliye and Braeden descend the stairs with a curious expression. She leans towards E'ten to murmur, "And watch, I suppose." It's clear as she scans the crowd that she's cogitating the issue over: pursed lips, taut brow line and rapidly moving eyes. Finally she nods to N'rov, "I thought so, too. And is it just me, or are the young goldriders from High Reaches headed towards us, or rather to you?" Her gaze lands upon Brieli and Azaylia, and then she gives N'rov a sideways glance. "Inter-weyr courtship?" she quips. Someone who doesn't know, or at least who has the decency to fake it? That's surely why N'rov gives Magdesse the brilliant smile that he does, though he tacks on, "Yes. Shh. He might run." This time, the elbow's aimed for E'ten there, right before he lifts into a wave Brieli and Azaylia's way: over here, over here! "Congratulations," says K'del, without skipping a beat, as he glances up to find Devaki there. It seems a genuine enough remark, matched so carefully by a fluid smile. "I'm sure you'll be very happy together. Even if you have abandoned your bride already." He'll pause before answering that latter remark, using the time to take a careful sip from his glass. "I suppose I played... intermediary. Matchmaker. There's a new job for me. Rather solved a lot of problems, I think." He sounds rather smug. E'ten lifts a hand to cough briefly into it, feigning a clearing of his throat on the heels of Magdessse's observation with a tilt of his head towards N'rov as his eyes drift in the direction of the two riders heading in their direction. Possibly heading. "Maybe. Depending," he quips to N'rov as he remarks as an aside to Magdesse. "I need to catch you up on the latest gossip sometime." She is one of his fellow clutchsiblings, in a manner of speaking, even as he lifts an arm to try and deflect that elbow to his side. Azaylia drains her glass during the search, dropping it off where it will be promptly picked up and cleaned. Just because it's a Gather doesn't mean she needs to make more work for anyone. Eyes wander over the crowd, distracted by the fineries so that when Brieli pulls, she follows with a squeak. "Well, yes." She amends with a delicate smile, "But you'll have more fun." A nod, subtle but there. "Lord," Leova murmurs, and she might have slipped off but for the arm keeping her where she is. Her eyes flick briefly to K'del, and then back to Devaki, and then her weyrmate before she looks up and finds great interest in the sky. Certainly, on the fireheights, Vrianth's wings are dark-sparred banners in the wind. "Be a good boy, N'rov," says Magdesse playfully (perhaps even a bit meanly), reaching towards him to tweak his cheek like an old Auntie. "You aren't pulling the wool over anyone's eyes. Just remember that the riders of female dragons are delicate flowers." The sarcasm is heavy. Now successfully in a playful mood, she quips to E'ten, "I'm a Jasper rider now. I haven't got time for gossip, although news used to be my business. We hear rumors, of course." As of yet, Brieli hasn't even bothered with a glass of anything! She's on a mission! With a roll of her eyes for Azaylia's compulsive helpfulness even at a party and a wide grin, "More fun later?" She might say more, but she's caught N'rov's wave - and though she doesn't quite drop her fellow goldrider to run into his arms, she does have an image to uphold at this particular wedding - so rushes over to throw arms around his neck and kiss him, in front of E'ten and Magdesse and everyone else, in a manner suitable to people cruelly torn apart reunited at a such an occasion. Devaki doesn't seem overly nonplussed at K'del's comment on Issedi, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, the ladies are discussing babies. They uncerimoniously shooed me away. Some things I'd rather not know -- there's a reason Evali was the midwife on the Islands, not myself." He follows up the comment with a low laugh, that fades by measures at the Weyrleader's latter words. "Matchmaker?" He echoes, with a thoughtful purse of lips. "Perhaps you should be. Ysavaeth, so I hear, defied every known rule of dragonkind to rise in order to match your bronze. Do you matchmake dragons, too?" Busy waving to Brieli (and Azaylia!), N'rov's caught off guard enough that that too-successful tweak meets with an outright frown, one that he has to wipe off before the weyrwomen get there. It still mutes his smile, though, at least until the people have parted enough that he can get a better look at Brieli and those legs of hers and... and then it's reunion time! He'll sweep her up so he can kiss her that much more thoroughly, and murmur only in /her/ ear, "No more being subtle?" For their audience, /not/ in her poor ear, "Darling! It's been so long!" "You know, it isn't polite just to do that, Weyrling," Magdesse admonishes Brieli, gently, and with a great amount of humor behind the words. It's actually not really an admonishment of her. "Perhaps it would be N'rov's place to introduce people," she states. She quirks an eyebrow at the bronzerider. "Of course," says K'del, after a moment, smiling impassively at Devaki. He's managing to make a better show of it than the last time they engaged in conversation - so far so good, for all that no one could really mistake them for friends. "No doubt the Lady Issedi will be seeking to have her own in short order, now. Spring of turn 30, if you're lucky." But mention of Ysavaeth has unnerved him, and turned his cheeks to pink: "Not I. Blame that one on Ysavaeth entirely, I reckon. We'd convinced ourselves it'd be another, catching Rielsath in good time. Still." His shrug is an easy one: he's not complaining. Is it wise for a goldrider to chokegiggle? Because that's what Azaylia is doing, hand covering her mouth and finding a disproportionate amount of humor at Brieli's comment. It makes the sudden abandonment easier, beaming at both N'rov and her fellow goldrider. Her own approach slows, fingers nervously gathering up her wrap and holding it tighter to herself as eyes find Magdesse and E'ten. N'rov's exclimation has those hands flying up, trying to stifle the soft laughter of someone who knows better. Magdesse's words seem to help in that, a blurt, "I'm Azaylia." Thoughtful. "Of gold Hraedhyth." And if anyone has any doubts, there's a sudden booming roar from wherever the dragons have congregated. "Still, it seems that both are junior weyrwomen. Regardless," E'ten remarks to Magdesse with a tilt of his head towards her and merely glancing upwards briefly at N'rov as some comments make absolute sense - now. With both arms folding loosely across his chest and the finery that comprises his Gather finery as the introductions are being made. "E'ten, rider to Bronze Adiulth. You could make N'rov do all the introductions, of course." "If we're lucky," Devaki answers, a genuine note of anticipation in his voice. "We're both hoping for a boy first -- Issedi mostly because she thinks I'll indulge a daughter far too much." Surprise flickers in the former Islander's gaze, as if perhaps he reads honesty in K'del's latter statement, and seems momentarily unsettled by it. A moment of camaraderie, perhaps, that passes swiftly at the next comment, "It's a shame Io didn't come. I'd imagine she and the Lady Yuliye would have a lot to compare notes on." His gaze drifts to Leova, and then, "But I see you brought a lovely substitute. Perhaps you'd care to save me a dance later?" He half bows his head towards Leova, with a lightness that seems to suggest he expects a rejection. After that kiss, after being literally swept off her feet, Brieli can tell N'rov, with a bitter little thread to her wry tone, "Why bother?" And though there might be no reason to bother at home, she apparently has ceased entirely to care anywhere else. As for the rest, brushing stray curls back from his face, apparently captivated, "Ages. Days." Whole days. How must they live. Glancing over to Magdesse finally, fine brows arched, "It's not polite to greet someone? I don't think I'd do the same to you... Unless you had his eyes." She peers over to check, then echoing Azaylia, "Brieli, gold Iesaryth's. Hello E'ten. It's nice to see you here." She'll favor the other bronzerider with a lovely smile. "Days and days and hours and more days," N'rov agrees, those eyes of his admiring, but then... then, it's time to turn back to the grim reality that must surround their stolen moments. Is it decorous to keep Brieli scooped up like that for the moment, seated on his arm like a swing? Maybe not so much, but then the question really is: is it /dramatic/. To Magdesse, ingenuously, "Did you say something?" "It's a pleasure to meet you, Azaylia," says Magdesse. A bugle meets Hraedhyth's roar, and Mags smiles at the other woman "I think Kaimyth, my brown, rather agrees with some sentiment or another. I'm Magdesse, by the way, and I'm terrible with names although there are some I ought to know. I'm more of a faces than names person." The last bit is followed by a wrinkled nose. She tilts her head sideways as she regards Brieli, "I wouldn't wish for you to greet me that way, but not making introductions is impolite. Or so I've been told." She gives a grin and a shrug along with the last statement, a silent 'Who knows if that advice was right?' Mags seems to exude the mellowness stereotypical of brownriders, along with a healthful dash of silliness. To N'rov she merely gives a wink. K'del's got another genuine remark, too, an utterly honest one. "Boys are wonderful fun," he tells Devaki. "You'll enjoy fatherhood." There's a shadow to cross over his face as he adds, "not so sure about girls. We'd hoped--" But that's not a conversational topic for here, and for Devaki, so he shakes his head and moves on. He's unsettled more by Devaki's next remark, and it sends a breath whistling through his teeth as he recovers his composure. Carefully, "Hope you aren't implying what I think you are. Leova and I are nothing but colleagues, and the Lady Yuliye and I--" He breaks off, shakes his head. "Lord Braeden has made an excellent match. I'm sure Lady Yuliye will make him very happy." It's another nudge that prompts Leova to return her gaze more openly to the men's conversation, and after a quick backward glance, she remembers to smile. "I'd be honored, if you still have time, to be sure. 'Colleages,' yes. We're pleased to be here, to celebrate the Hold's... the /Holds'/ joy on this day." She might pack on further niceties, but she stops instead, those amber eyes less opaque and more... wishful. Azaylia drops shawl-filled fists from her face, no longer trying to hide. "E'ten." Said carefully at first, and then with more familiarity, "Adiulth." She'll keep her polite distance, a wince to take responsibility for that boisterous roar. "Sorry." But Kaimyth's bugle helps in easing the tension in her shoulders, smile small but polite. She doesn't seem to find issue with Brieli's current seat. "Well met, Magdesse." A shy glance for N'rov, "And hello, again. You're not going to steal my friend away forever are you?" But if he wants to take off with her for a short amount of time, well that's alright then. The sound of a roar far off and Adiulth's confirmation of the identity is enough for E'ten to quick a grin as he hears something between man and dragon as he nods to both goldriders. "A pleasure to meet both of you. It seems that Hraedhyth is rather.. vocal." "The Lady Yuliye and you...?" Devaki prompts, though there's enough of a gleam to his gaze to suggest he knows very well what wasn't said. Whether or not the islander understood the unfinished comment about hoping is anyone's guess, though he looks in control enough to suggest it's passed him by. It's K'del's latter statement that earns a low chuckle, a noise of pleased indulgence, "Oh, I don't know that she'll make him all that happy." Which probably seems an odd thing to say of one's own Lord Holder, but then... he is an islander. Leova's acceptance surprises him, and with a quick smile, he recovers with an easy, "I'll be sure to look you up later then. Leova, was it?" Whether it's entirely proper or decorous or not, Brieli certainly doesn't mind being scooped up like that, and any number of admirers aren't likely minding how high that skirt goes up either with N'rov holding her that way. She's not noticing anyone but him though - and perhaps any interested Harpers in the area, but never mind that. To Magdesse, with a flash of a grin, "Next time." As for Hraedhyth and her relative 'vocality', she has to laugh, tell E'ten, "That's one way of putting it?" "Leova," the greenrider confirms, why not? "I'll leave you men to your business," dulcet as even K'del may never have seen her, if only so she can steal her weyrmate back and slip away. They'll spend some time with the dancing, a little more to talk shop by the ale stalls, but in the end it may mean an early return home... parents' night out or no. K'del glances at Leova, and at her companion before they go, and there's an apology there, even as he's regrouping himself for his next remark to Devaki. "We're old friends," he allows, utterly casual, though he can't be ignorant of that gleam. His confusion over Braeden's happiness seems, however, to be utterly genuine: does he really not know? If he does, he's pretending well. "Perhaps you're so distracted by your own wife's attributes you cannot-- no matter." K'del, he seems strangely smug. Azaylia smiles, words stolen right out of her mouth by Brieli. "I'm sorry." This time there's a bit more weight and familiarity to it, "She hasn't been bothering Adiulth as much?" Hopeful expression is for E'ten, the curl to her lips somewhat guilty. Seems the gold is satisfied with whatever point she's made, allowing the noise pollution of the gather to dominate once again. "It's a pleasure meeting both of you, by the way," says Magdesse with a warm smile as she glances between Azaylia and Brieli. "Although, the courtship habits of gold- and bronzeriders will forever confound me, I feel. " The last is said as her gaze pauses on Brieli and N'rov, and she gives another 'who knows' shrug. This is followed by a dramatic sigh as she glances between E'ten and Azaylia. "I fear I will always be at a loss when it comes to such matters, being a mere brownrider." She might pull off dry and dramatic better if she didn't grin from ear-to-ear after making such statements. At least N'rov hasn't hoisted her over his shoulder, yet. "Not /forever/," he even assures Azaylia, and the polite moment that should lead to a polite compliment to her dress lingers on her midriff and those scars beneath the shimmer of her shawl. Fascination's still in those gray eyes when he looks up, but then he just smiles, and lets Brieli slide down his side yet stay in the arm he tightens about her. "Maggie?" Call it payback, that name. "Maybe you might let Kaimyth come fly with Hraedhyth a bit sometime, if she'll take it." But then she continues. Darkly, "Or /not/." He eyes E'ten: do something! "Was that what you were watching during the wedding? I'd wondered," Devaki muses aloud. "I'd pass on the compliment, but I think she'd be more flustered than flattered. She's no Yuliye, after all." He half turns, spots the woman in question weaving through the crowd in their direction, rather slowly, and glances back to K'del, "I'd best save her from boring conversations with aunts and cousins. Would you let Io know I miss her?" It's a bold request indeed, and it's hard to tell whether he expects to elicit a response -- he doesn't seem to be waiting around long for one, anyway. "Vocal seems to be the safest word to use," E'ten confirms to Brieli, finally unfolding his arms with a laugh coming far too easily on the trail of Magdesse's remark about gold and bronzeriders alike. "I think if you continue to accompany us, Magdesse.. you might pick up on some habits. Or at least observations," he notes in an attempt to make her seem more comfortable in the midst of all of them as he replies to Azaylia next. "Adiulth sees her as a vocal, young gold. No harm done by her questions, Azaylia." All politeness, this bronzerider as he glances to N'rov far too innocently. "Oh no," says K'del, who is obviously bothered by this remark, but trying not to show it. "These days, Iolene and I only have eyes for each other." He doesn't offer any reply to Devaki's last, merely waves him away with a gesture that is undeniably a 'go go' gesture. Go. Please. GO. Yet. Brieli might be briefly curious about Azaylia's conversation with E'ten, but not enough to go staring at them; she tells Magdesse, as she leans in against N'rov, "I wasn't a goldrider when he met me - does it still count as confounding?" Her dark eyes are bright, seeming entertained by the brownrider at least - though she'll look up to ask N'rov, "Will he fight?" Just to be sure. Hraedhyth has her preferences after all - and as for E'ten: "Iesaryth says loud. Sometimes 'stompy'." "Oh, good." Azaylia will sound relieved for N'rov, playfully so. A hand rests on her chest, scooping up her shawl to reveal pale as actually darkly raised scars. Not that she's even aware of them anymore, blinking rapidly at Magdesse for a moment. "There are... habits?" Color her oblivious. She still smiles for the brownrider's dramatic flair, stifling a giggle with a bite to her lower lip. Her relief is obvious, "I'm so glad. Well..." N'rov's suggestion has a glimmer of panic, pairing well with Brieli's tease. "She hasn't fought with a Fortian yet, I- I'll see if she'll invite him." Allow him, "A guest shouldn't- wouldn't get hurt." She tries not to seem terribly uncertain for the safety of visiting dragons. "You may call me Auntie Maggie in my dotage, N'rov," says Magdesse with a loud laugh, "but I don't think I'm there yet." Absently, she brushes a stray frizzy section of hair behind her left ear. E'ten is favored with a softer chuckle, and she gently leans her shoulder towards him with a hinting nudge that might push him a bit closer to Azaylia. "I don't think I need to pick up those habits. And Kaimyth is opinionated enough in his own way. I'm afraid a friendship between Hraedhyth and Kaimyth would be, well, interesting. Vocality wise." K'del's expression is harder and colder as he watches Devaki go, but he recovers soon after-- and turns a far brighter smile on to a group of holders who approach him with quiet questions. Delightful. Even with the shift of that shaw, N'rov's quite deliberately /not/ looking at Azaylia's stomach any longer, interesting scars or no interesting scars. In fact, he's busy doing a hair-check on Brieli (how long has it grown?) before replying, "I hadn't /planned/ fighting/. It probably would be safer if they didn't." Probably. "And I don't know, Maggie, it's sounding more and more like you need the practice. You know, so you remember to respond to it, before you forget." E'ten lightly coughs, even if his eyes are growing more amused at the suggestion of Hraedhyth being anything but a mild mannered gold as his hand lifts to his lips before adding, "I suppose there's nothing wrong with 'loud'. I'd rather the word 'persistent', if anything to describe here. Which." He notes with a nod to Azaylia, "Is not a bad thing. Is she a gold that enjoys picking fights though?" That's a new one. Even as he slightly stirs with the nudge given to edge him closer to the Reaches goldrider, he doesn't move much. Really, at all? Even if he just goes with the movement ever so slightly. "It might be interesting to watch - how they get along, that is. Kaimyth and her." Azaylia is quick to explain on her lifemate's behalf, "Hraedhyth is less of a flyer, more of a... wrestler." No embarrassment in her explination, just quiet affection for her dragon. "She likes to roughhouse. There haven't been any serious injuries." But that's with her own kind. Who knows how intense a match between the young queen and a Fortian will get? N'rov is given a smile that borders on an amused smirk, "You're welcome to try and stop her, when she gets going." Hands rise to her chest, right over her heart as the goldrider does a little damage control. "She's really very sweet, though. You should see how she is with Brieli's Iesaryth." Hraedhyth, unamused. Wherever she is. Hmph. "N'rov the Fiesty today, I see," says Magdesse. In fine humor and fashion, she wags a finger at him, "If you keep calling me Maggie, I'll pinch your cheek again in front of Brieli, since cheek pinching is what old Aunties do." That all said, her eyes go somewhat unfocused for a moment. She shakes her head, and laughs, "I've been told by Kaimyth that we are all behaving inappropriately. And apparently I wasn't supposed to say that he said that." Seeming likewise uncertain about /anyone's/ safety around Hraedhyth, Brieli glances Azaylia's way briefly before, "Hraedhyth likely wouldn't hurt anyone. Purposefully. Aside from tail-biting." She'll grin up at N'rov for 'safer' - since when is that a concern? - and seems entirely both charmed and amused by E'ten's continued insistence that Azaylia's queen has nothing different about her whatsoever. Because everyone knows that's a lie. But she will admit, "She is sweet with Iesaryth. Who is telling me about something I should look into actually? Or I'm just lying and I'm off to steal the wedding gifts." She leans in to press a kiss to the bronzerider's cheek before reluctantly pulling away, telling the group in general, "I'll be back." As for her hair, it's up - to hard to tell how much it's grown out, even as she's walking away. "I wasn't planning to /stop/ her," N'rov tells Azaylia, if only so he can tell E'ten in a stage whisper behind his hand, "Only place bets." Magdesse gets a dirty look, but whatever retort he might have given, well. Brieli's kissing him, and then walking away. So he steals his hat down so he can hold it over his heart, and call after her, "Until we are once again reunited! Again!" in a carrying baritone. Azaylia lifts a finger towards her friend, correcting gently, "She wouldn't hurt anyone badly." Because accidents do, and have, happened. Some scars have already been added to the young queen's tawny hide. "I hope everything's alright..?" A frightened squeak at Brieli's retreat, hands once again pulling the shawl tight. It's a comfort once realization hits that she's the one Reachian among their group. Magdesse's words have her giving a concerned murmur, "Are we?" Behaving inappropriately, that is. "That might not be the type for all dragons," E'ten replies to Azaylia, lifting an arm to execute a polite bow to Brieli's departure before looking to those left with still an amused smile lingering across his features as he straightens. "I'm sure that Adiulth is not much of a tumbler in that sense of the word," he offers with a glance over one shoulder where the dragons are sill lounging. "To a dragon, perhaps. Adiulth thinks that we are perfectly fine." Magdesse shakes her head at Azaylia's question, "No, I don't feel like we're behaving inappropriately. Kaimyth isn't fond of anything that could appear to be inappropriate or indecorous, I think, is maybe the word for it. He's very big on appearances and tradition." N'rov replaces his hat at an even more rakish tilt, an untrustworthy halo. Only after Brieli's disappeared does he turn back, laughing softly to himself, something that E'ten says turning that into a cough he has to stifle behind his hand. For the moment he's otherwise silent, for all that more of that laughter dances in his eyes. Azaylia gives a gentle nod towards E'ten, sounding almost chastised. "I know." She's still smiling, "She's difficult for some to understand." But that's enough excusing her dragon's odd behavior. The weak smile manages to grow for Kaimyth's own quirks, "I see. I hope he accepts my apology anyway? I wouldn't want to offend." N'rov earns a tilt of her head, curious as her gaze flicks back to the other bronzerider. Head is still skewed thoughtfully, "I'm a bit thirsty." She says after a moment, glancing to the side. "I'm sure Brieli will be back soon..." This time the grin she gives them has a bit more heart in it, "It was very nice to meet all of you. I should..." Without a proper excuse at the top of her head she can only bow politely and make a meek retreat. "No apologies needed, and that's directly from Kaimyth," says Magdesse with a bow to Azaylia. As the goldrider makes a retreat, Magdesse turns to her clutchmates and queries, "Shall we make a retreat of our own, back to Fort?" "It's alright," E'ten remarks to Azaylia, offering another bow to her before gesturing towards the stalls that are much more appealing for some who intend to enjoy the Gather proper. "It's a Gather day after all. I'm going to find some of the other stalls before we have to return to Fort." N'rov? Laughter? He's pointedly ignoring that as he looks to Magdesse with a shrug, "You can head back first, if you want." N'rov eyes that retreat of Azaylia's much as Magdesse does, but all he says is, "I think E'ten has the right idea." He grins at both clutchmates, then aims a poke at Adiulth's: let's /go/ already. And they're off! "I've got to head back anyway," says Magdesse. "I promised I wouldn't play cards or games at the gather, and that's the first place I'd be headed off to." With that subtle admission of her Bitran heritage, the brownrider heads away from those gathered. |
Comments
Iolene (Satiet) left a comment on Wed, 15 Aug 2012 18:06:39 GMT.
Wah! So sad I missed this.
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