Logs:About (Not) AWLMing
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| RL Date: 16 October, 2015 |
| Who: K'zin, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: When Quinlys finds out K'zin wants to transfer to Tundra, it's probably about time to mention that he made the request to his girlfriend-slash-co-assistant-weyrlingmaster. Nothing can possibly go wrong. |
| Where: Benden Hold |
| When: Day 9, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Annabet/Mentions, R'vel/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: A little flaily angst. |
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| It was a lovely day at the Gather, a last hurrah before those eggs broke shell. Telavi and her Benden friends-- not that there hadn't been something of a diaspora over the past Turns, but so far they'd only had good occasions to reunite-- cut a swathe through the trader stalls, and there was dancing, and gossip about changes in Weyr leadership along with the ever-changing usual. She'd swept up to the fireheights to stow her new glasses with the rosemaled cut motifs safely away with Solith, and the festive fascinator for her hair with them, and Annabet had treated them to some hot spiked punch when she got back. K'zin would join them when he got off duty, that was the plan, he'd find her on the dance floor and then there would be more dancing, with him, and it was just a lovely, lovely day. And then. K'zin is not in his gather best and he smells of the forge. It's hardly the put-together appearance the bronzerider had planned to make. Still, he's here, and early, if not by much. As he catches sight of the whiskey blonde and her friend, there's too much relief in the way his eyes catch on Tela and he hurries toward her. "Tela, hey!" is called as soon as he gets close enough to the greenrider. There's anxiety in his expression, a look he's trying to cover, but there are reasons he never would have made it in Savannah even if Rasavyth had been able to get him in: this is one. The sound of his voice has her smiling, and teasing her nearest friend sotto voce, "And early! What did I tell you?" not to be smug except-- smug. Telavi turns in a way that makes certain her hair will catch the light, her even brighter smile all eyes and only a little teeth, except-- those are not the clothes. Rasavyth let him escape in them? And that is not the tone. Worry flooding her gaze, she hurries toward him, careless of the big holder who crowds her path. Oops. At least they're riding leathers, so not wholly inappropriate which probably explains the bronze's complicity with K'zin's rush to get here. "Can I borrow you?" is the first touch of concern, looking to Telavi's friend where she was abandoned, "We need to talk." It's always promising when that's the preamble. That is not good. Telavi turns to wave to them all-- "We'll be back!" with a little laugh as though it's just that she's so glad to see him-- and is all too willing to whisk him away from where they might be seen. Not that they're far when she has to know, "What's wrong?" "Wrong? Who says anything's wrong?" K'zin counters with a betraying break to his voice. That is wrong. Telavi cocks her head, staring up at him, neither smiling nor frowning but rather primming her lips together, waiting. "Okay," K'zin unsurprisingly breaks in the face of that look. It's not so much that it's too familiar as that it's one that a man doesn't forget after being confronted with it a time or two. He glances about before tugging Tela's elbow to lead her in between the backs of two rows of booths, the snow here not as well-trodden as elsewhere in the gather grounds, letting their boots sink a little into snow rather than the muck beneath. Only once he feels they're relatively alone, in somewhere that's a little like private does he begin to pace. Pace. Telavi steps as delicately as she can, in his footsteps, and still be preemptory about it; she doesn't actually step on his heels, but once or twice it's a near thing. When he starts pacing, though, she stands still. And she's waiting. "Listen," K'zin starts, and already there's an edge of defensiveness, "I know I should've probably--" he looks at her, "--almost--" another look, "-definitely have talked with you about this first, because even though we're not weyrmates, it's not like we're not deeply involved in one anothers lives and what I do in my life matters to you and what you do in your life matters to me, only you had a lot going on," and for that he shoots her a truly apologetic and ashamed glance, the timing of this is terrible, "and I-- just--- I needed to do this and I wasn't really sure you'd understand, but if you do understand, and if you can forgive me, and if you will still be with me after, I think we should weyrmate." Thrice is the botched proposal, but is it lucky number thrice? Tela almost gets to smiling when those looks have him changing it all up, and then she's nodding about whatever-this-is but then he breaks out the w-word that is much longer than four letters and that takes her aback, this is neither Savannah nor in front of other people to pretend-- but the rest she can nod to and then nod more except what? What?! "What did you do?!" It may not be loud, but it's that much more intense. K'zin's brown eyes squeeze shut in the face of that question, his cheeks flushed already and darkening now. "I asked R'vel for a transfer to Tundra. To keep Smithing. He put in the request. Quinlys is--" Can Telavi imagine? Does it help her imagine better when K'zin briefly looks like a kicked puppy who just wanted a scratch behind the ears from a different master? "You what?" "The eggs!" "Quinlys-- of course she is!" whatever it is. All of it has varying proportions of incredulity to exclamation. "I know! I'm sorry!" K'zin is, so sorry, so sorry he has to interrupt with those things, has to move to Telavi to try to take her hands, to hold them to his chest lest she turn away from him here and now. Those hands go thump-thump-thump against his chest as best she can, together not one by one, where 'best' doesn't mean breaking out those Savannah moves but just a girl's thud-thud-thud as Tela's all big wide eyes up at him.. "If you're so sorry, why didn't you talk about it?" K'zin will let her beat him if that's what keeps her here. "I'm sorry, Tela. I am. I really really am. I just-- I had to ask. I miss my craft, Tela. I don't know how to explain what I feel. I couldn't even explain properly to R'vel. I think he only understood because he feels it too. It's selfish. It's so horribly, awfully, unforgivably selfish. The only thing I came up with as a real legitimate not selfish reason is that Quinlys wouldn't want a distracted assistant for this many weyrlings, but then I sorted that just means I'd be a bad assistant for not being able to get my prioirites right." And now K'zin looks pathetic. Just the kind of bronzerider a girl should want to weyrmate~ "First! First first first first first! Talk first! Maybe you couldn't explain to him but you tried! I get that you like your craft, you do it a lot, you do it more than you used to and that's fine but R'vel? R'vel?! And the eggs are about to hatch!" Maybe he's figured all of this out, except for the first part anyway, but Telavi has to get this out. "I'm sorry," and "I'm sorry!" and "I'm sorry," don't seem to help as they punctuate Tela's assessment of just how much of a schmuck K'zin is. "Are you going to leave me?" is -- well, quietly terrified. What?! "No, I'm not going to leave you," Telavi informs him, "but," always promising! "you keep doing that, the talking to other people first and there's asking if it's possible and there's putting in a request and Quinlys gets to decide if you're too distracted to be worth it and you could just own it, wanting to, people start assisting and stop assisting and it happens if, okay, not normally just before the eggs hatch, now she has to find someone else but if you just talked sooner then it wouldn't be a thing!" "Quinlys gets to decide if I can even go to Tundra!" K'zin has to answer that much. "She could just say no. None of us get to determine our own destinies. I had to work my ass off to get Quinlys to give me a trial as an assistant and I did it because it was the only 'traditional' dragonrider job I could see myself doing and liking more than I hated. Now, I have the chance to be a Smith again, not wholly, but enough. If someone offered you a weaver apprenticeship today, could you really say you could just ignore the chance?" He looks imploringly, soulfully at her. There's passion in his argument, passion in his words, and yet there manages not to be volume, just intensity. "And I didn't know it was happening sooner," is a little exasperated. "No one did." "Good," Telavi says with a sniff, and if she can have her arms back, she'll cross them. "She could and you're not like some people, you won't mope around slacking until she wants to kick you out," praise! "and working your ass off and, oh, putting in a request is working on your destiny, maybe we can't determine them but we can help, and you have worked hard and it's good and I want you to have that but-- talk first-- and weaver, really? Really?" she's trying not to look hurt, she's trying-- "I can't apprentice and they'd all be Turns and Turns younger than me and at least you had a knot, I never did--" That sniff isn't so much an expression as necessity. K'zin's chin tips down to look at Telavi as she speaks, not seeking to keep her hands, arms or any other part of her (except all of her, in the figurative). He waits until she's finished to say quietly, "Things are changing, Tela. Can't you feel it? If I'm ever to take classes again, I'll be twenty-five at least while the rest are seventeen, or younger. Who knows what could be next if this works." He says those words carefully. "Who's to say that someone with your talent couldn't apprentice if you wanted. Someday." Someday. He can hope. He can try to give her that hope to share. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was--" he stumbles over this admission, "I am ashamed, Tela. I don't want you to think of me as selfish, but that's what I am." He grimaces, then abruptly turns his back, as if even now he can't stomach her seeing that look on his face. That calms her, except for the rising frustration that has her knotting her hands, that has her lifting up to her toes and back. Except for the way he turns his back. Her indrawn breath is all too audible, and then she says more calmly than before-- kind of more calmly-- "Did you hear the part where I said I want you to have that?" It's quieter emphasis, not loud, just inflected as significant. "It doesn't change that I'm ashamed for wanting it. For 'putting what I want before what might be best for the Weyr'." K'zin's tone is disgusted as he quotes. His hands lift to push through his hair. He steels himself and turns back. "I didn't want you to hear it from Quinlys. I wasn't even sure the request would go through. Not with the eggs and-- It might've all been for nothing." A secret hope quashed might be easier to bear. "Well, you don't get to argue it both ways," Telavi points out. "You say you're putting what you want first and you're Master Selfish Man, but that only works if you really are 'determining your own fate' and making all the decisions. If they're deciding, then you're just explaining what you want and then they're figuring out what's best for the Weyr, which is their job. Are their jobs? Whatever." Her one-handed gesture isn't the rude kind, though it does wave it all off. "They negotiate too, they're bound to. So that part's on them." "It's... what R'vel said," K'zin admits, tone a little dubious now that Telavi has pointed out this flaw in his logic. He sighs. "I'm sorry I didn't talk with you first." He sounds like he means it. Stupid R'vel might be all too legible in Telavi's expression before, relatively at least, it clears. "Good," she says then, and goes up to hug him. K'zin takes the hug. It takes a few moments before he gives back what he's getting. "So... will you?" "Will I what?" Telavi un-buries her head from his chest to look up at him. "Try that too?" "No," and then there's awkward hesitation because: "Weyrmate me?" "Will you keep not talking to me about things?" Tela asks, and bites her lip. "Uh." Telavi has soulful eyes. Also, the teensiest bit of a lifted brow. "I never mean not to talk to you about things..." K'zin defends quietly. It's always accidental. Sort of. "When you talk to me about the hard things first, before they get all big and explode-y," Telavi says slowly, "Then I think I could." If he survives Quinlys, of course. "I could try." If it's more than a rush to make sure she doesn't leave. Not that she doesn't have her own issues. "You know I love you." K'zin considers her answer, expression thoughtful, "Would it change much, if we did, do you think?" "That's up to us." The snow squishes beneath Tela's toes, an uncertain wiggle. "It's been good this last... " wistfully, "I like my weyr. Could we have both?" "I... wouldn't want anything to change, really." K'zin answers, "I could make you more space in the dresser." He suggests as one small change that might be made, but really, they've managed thusfar... More space in the dresser. Before Tela's brows can draw in too far, she says quickly, "But we could figure that out then, the nuts and bolts and things," look, smith-y words! K'zin nods his head in ready agreement, seeming a little relieved, but not wholly. "Madilla once told me that what matters for a relationship is that both people are on the same page and are comfortable with what it is, not the label you put on it." A pause. "She also said communication and honesty are the keys to making that work." That gets a frown, probably because of what's just happened. It doesn't stop him from asking, "When should I ask again?" If she will. Telavi's not frowning; the quiver to her lip is anything but. "She's so thoughtful," could even be taken at face value. "I... I suppose you can't very well manufacture something difficult to talk to me about, can you? If you do survive Quinlys? Because that's what I'd really like, along with enough sleep, but we can't very well give each other that either... How about something like that, though. Something that is important. Or when the weyrlings are old enough to-- do something suitably dramatic." K'zin's brown eyes settle on Telavi and then, slowly, he nods, just twice. "Okay." He leans to kiss her, but in a way that suggests he's somehow not sure that the kiss will be accepted. Once it is, it's the signal that life is abruptly going to return to normal (well, normal with an apologetic, guilty K'zin to see to Tela's every gather-going whim). |
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