Logs:After Iesaryth and Vhaeryth's Hatching
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| RL Date: 8 November, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aishani is thoughtful, and neither she nor N'rov really want him to go. Big surprise. |
| Where: Living Cavern/Aishani and Iesaryth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 2, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: N'muir/Mentions, Ali/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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| It's a hatching feast, all right, and given they're both experienced at being clutchparents, there's no way to pretend ignorance and skip the rounds etcetera... not that the evening's politics have made those overlong. Aishani's been pleasant and polite and brief for all of that, and somewhat thoughtful, not that it's unusual, just that it's not generally something that's all that obvious. Iesaryth, for all that she's no fan of chill winds, has still not come down from the southern rim, all too happy to be in the winds at all. Vhaeryth doesn't always stay perched, much of the time he flies out above Iesaryth for the thrill of it, but so far he's always returned. As for N'rov, he's Shani's out-of-town escort, smiling away any comparisons people like to make between Fort's sands and these. Yes, it's a wonderful occasion. No, he can't comment on the escapee brown who stole from the Stands. If they can't steal away from eyes, just yet, he can claim her for a dance, one of the slower partnered numbers that lets them both talk.. and dance her away from any ears that draw a little too near. Under his breath, gray eyes smiling but serious, "What's on your mind?" The queen might lift off even now and again, when she's been grounded for so long, sunlit wings spread wide. Down below, dancing close if not alone, Aishani's own dark gaze is serious, but when is it not? With a bare shrug, she glances around them even before answering, "I'm not sure that you want to know." The couples around them don't seem inclined to listen, but eavesdroppers could be anywhere! "If it's on your mind," N'rov points out, leadingly; then again, he can lead dance-wise too, but it's her choice whether to stay in his arms. He doesn't glance around, not more than what's required of peripheral vision to keep them from running into anyone who's not trying hard to run into them. Thickening his accent practically deep enough to dance on, "I could talk like this, and who'd guess? Leaves you out, though," unless she wants to adopt something other than her usual cultured tones. He leads, she follows - but she's not offering up anything, not yet. Anything more than a smile for the accent, both amused and just faintly charmed. "It does," she agrees in her usual way, because what's been heard of her original accent might be considered less pleasant. Shani takes her time in thinking it over before she'll allow, in similar tones, "Just considering efficiencies. Ways to eliminate needless waste." "So work rather than play," the Fortian translates, dropping into more intelligible speech with the very last word. N'rov presses his hand on her waist along with a shift in balance, signaling the turn that will keep them out of the way of a silver-haired couple, arguably overdressed for the occasion and gazing rather nearsightedly into each other's eyes. "Going to tell me what kind of waste? When you say it, it could be," and he grins, "just about anything." "I'd rather be concerned with the latter than the former," Shani murmurs hopefully, with another scan of the cavern that's more hopeful than concerned. The place isn't clearing out in the least, but many of the dignitaries have made their excuses. The turn isn't much of a surprise, even though she gives the other couple the briefest, puzzled glance before she's caught by that grin, returns it slowly. "It could be. Does it sound interesting or nefarious, or both?" "Would you? Convince me." N'rov's grin deepens, but at least his hair's still black, not even a rogue shot of gray. "And you say that as though the two could possibly be separated." Is there... he does glance away, but only to go on a different sort of hunt, their steps taking them smoothly, gradually but inevitably towards where someone's pouring from bottles of sparkling wine. People likely aren't paying so much attention to them that Shani can't lean in as if she might attempt to convince him with lowered words, but a convenient fall of dark curls hides her actual intent. Though after, as she draws away only enough to be lead to the wine, hand drifting up his back, "I think the two can be separated, on occasion. But I'm glad you think otherwise. At least you're never bored with me." Even if she doesn't always tell him much. "Are we taking glasses or a bottle?" His low laugh, responding, hasn't much to do with words at all. Not that he's lost them; later, "It started out glasses, but a bottle is sounding better and better. I wonder where we could stash it." N'rov exaggeratedly eyes the cut of his girl's dress, then outright grins at her. "Or, how about we make a break for it? Do you have anyone else you're dying to talk to?" since they might not run out of the other way around. Resting her head on his shoulder, affecting the look of wilted exhaustion - it has been a long day, hasn't it? - Aishani wraps her arm around his waist. "I doubt there's room under my skirt." Unsurprisingly, there's not much of one. "I also doubt anyone will stop us, but I could hit them with it if they try. Why not make a break for it with the wine? Unless you're done drinking." As for anyone she's dying to talk to, she just gives him a look, like 'really?' As if. "No. Just you." "Are you sure?" N'rov leaves off that pat of her so-exhausted head (careful with the hair!) as though to double-check the length of that skirt... except it's not like he's going to have already forgotten, and in public like this, his hand changes course before actually getting anywhere. "Imagine how you'd have to walk with that strapped to your thigh," instead of the knife. His grin's that much broader when it reappears, though that's surely also influenced by that look of hers. "And no, don't hit anyone with it, better to make a break for it than break it." With that, the next steps are clear: get the bottle, even though the server gives it up disappointingly easily without any dramatic fuss at all, get their outerwear, get out and get back home. Or, at least, the closest thing to that they have on hand. Dryly, "I don't want to try, but you're welcome to..." And then he is checking, or as close to as he can in front of everyone, and Shani's leaning in closer, smirking. "Not cute, that what I'm imagining. Not even close. And I was going to say, we'd have to sacrifice the bottle in fighting our way out. Dramatic, but not productive." And though there's no drama with getting the bottle, or getting home either - but for the drama that comes with the cold and snow that must be dealt with - it's a nice change, perhaps. It's warm in the weyr even if the fire and the light both are low; stepping out of boots rather than stomping them off, "Glasses?" "If we must." N'rov helps her one-handed with her coat before dealing with his own, adding blandly, "Just so you know. If anyone were to look good waddling, it would be you." Having custody of the bottle, he keeps it, but does add on second thought, "Glasses do make it easier to toast." It is also wine, unlike what's in either of their silver flasks. With distaste, "Waddling." Aishani's nose is wrinkled as she leaves him with the coats, going to the glass cabinet - where, it must be said, there is wine available, but it's better to have the wine for the occasion. It's free! Looking over her shoulder as she opens it, beginning to smile, "Do we have something to toast?" She finds appropriate long stemmed glasses, holding them in one hand to stoke the fire briefly on her way back to him. Free and cold. "I think we might," N'rov drawls, and takes care of the opening with a measured pop. Once their glasses are both filled, first, "To all of them, hatched and paired." Unlike that egg of Isyath and Vhaeryth's, the one that N'muir and Bijedth had taken between. He offers a clink of glasses before he sips, and restrains himself that long from adding, "Even if a couple of them are funny-looking, between you and me. And that one blue, that was worrying for a bit there." She can touch her glass to his, and drink to that - and managing to suppress a smile, mostly, she laces her fingers through his to draw him in for a brief kiss, somewhat restrained for the moment. Looking up with bright eyes, "They're all a little funny-looking to start, aren't they? I'm sure it won't last. I'm not sure what to think of the lot of them, but... there's time, I suppose." As long as everyone at High Reaches sticks to their agreements. "Keep an eye on them for me, will you?" N'rov asks, right before he tries out a less-brief kiss to see if he can make those bright eyes brighter yet. When they come up for air, there's no discussion of time and agreements, at least not from him, not now; instead, "Your turn." See, he's a fair man. He can take turns, sometimes. Somewhere in the middle of that kiss, Shani's glass finds the edge, then the flat of the table, but not without some difficulty. So quickly abandoned. "I will," she breathes after, before eyelashes flutter and eyes open, perhaps brighter, definitely warmer. Grinning, she asks, "My turn?" before wrapping arms around his neck to slide in close and kiss him again, restraint gone. She won't ask when he's leaving either, not now, no. That isn't fair. That isn't fair at all. N'rov still has his glass that he has to keep track of, and here she is with two free hands, which is twice as many as he does. The bronzerider doesn't even get a chance to clarify, just a restrained growl at her machinations while he strives to set his own glass down in safety... while he still can. Suffice it to say that he's not leaving now, not even tonight, maybe not even in the morning. She doesn't have to be fair. And given she doesn't particularly want him to leave, she might be forgiven for a little unfairness, at least for that one night. Though in the morning, Shani doesn't seem inclined to really let him get up either, even if it's just to lie there, wrapped around him, under the covers and pillows like that's enough to hide from the light and life and everything else. After quiet while, a sigh, "When do you have to go?" At least she doesn't sound too disappointed about it, now that she's asked. N'rov's eyes first opened quite some time ago; they've shut since, and he doesn't look down at her now. What he does do is begin to stroke her back, slowly, slow as his words. "I'm to report in before dinnertime. So I figure about five minutes before that." That hand on her back, fingers on her skin brings another sigh, this one contented; closes her eyes again. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, Shani murmurs there, "All right." Though she tightens her hold on him, she says reasonably, after a moment or two, "It's not as if we don't see each other often enough anyway." Convincing herself, maybe. So N'rov keeps stroking her like that, because this much at least he doesn't have to stop, not for a while. It contents her, so he'll do it; he can give her that much. "I suppose not," he says. "Though 'enough,' that's a strong word right now. Think the wagon's survived all right without us?" Aishani even notes idly, sleepily, "That feels nice." Another kiss for his shoulder before she rests her forehead there, tousled curls covering her expression. "Mm. Probably, unless some animals broke in, but I don't think I left anything worth getting in there. Do you want to go?" Maybe it's less like leaving that way, though she seems in no hurry to jump up and get dressed right away. N'rov's, "No," is immediate. His verbal step back, once he realizes, is less so but it comes freely, at least. "There, you mean? Yes, just not now." His hand's stopped, still pressing firmly on her back but now like he'd press her into him. "Not going anywhere now. Sorry. Did I mention that you're not either?" Go ahead, argue with him. Her smile is only faint, but it's there in her voice despite her words: "I don't want you to either." Shani shifts to rest one arm atop his chest, a rest for her chin, even her slight weight a deterrent from him moving either, more than happy to be close, pressed into him. Dark eyes are only opened enough to look at him through her lashes, not looking as if she's about to put up a fight. Grinning, "I don't have anywhere better to be." So now that that's settled, N'rov laces his hands just past her waist, just past where her slender body's started to curve out again. After a while he inhales like he's about to say something, then doesn't, not until the next breath. "You want to talk?" About anything. Even if he hasn't spoken, whatever he's almost said has Shani's fine brows arching at him questioningly, lips quirking a touch. The question has her still looking curious, though maybe just slightly concerned - though not so much that those brows come together. "Is there something to talk about?" If not specifically; "I doubt I need to tell you I'm going to miss you." "No, you don't." But N'rov hasn't done anything to forestall her, especially with that quick grin even before he spoke. "I doubt you won't like to hear that I'm going to miss you, though I figure you already know. And miss here, too, even if it did come with the rest of the place." Speaking of, though the bronzeriders have managed to stay out of each other's hair all this time which renders it less of a complaint, "One of our dragonets is related to K'del, Shani. How does that even happen?" "I like having you around. I like not... fitting time in. Not that I won't, but this is nice." Has been nice, to make a habit of curling up against him to keep warm nights, even when she really doesn't have to. With something of a smile, Shani notes, "I know I'm pretty, but I suppose I like to hear that too." The complaint brings a wrinkle back to her nose, and she just shakes her head a little, shrugging. "I'm not sure. I try not to think about those things too closely, lest it annoy me. I suppose it's not as if that's something that will come up all the time?" "Better than pretty," N'rov points out. "You'd be stunning even if your nose got stuck that way," and smirks at her. Slightly more seriously, "It shouldn't come up, no. But who knows? Maybe that's part of what makes a Weyr different: stealing people from all over in addition to the ones we raise, giving them something in common, some larger goal. Even if that goal is 'don't let me get run over by dragonet claws.'" Smirking back, "You watch, it will and then you'll be stuck with it, just like I am with your broken nose." Shani doesn't seem so offended by said nose that she won't rouse herself just enough to stretch up and kiss the end of it, his lips after, twice because she can't stay away that long. Laughing, "Stealing people from all over. Aside from that, you sounded nearly philosophical. Most people don't seem to mind being stolen. I suppose there'd be a certain lack of perspective without the stealing." "Like it looks like it's been broken," N'rov says, tilting his head this way and that so Shani can see, though at least it's after she goes about that stretching-and-kissing. "It sounds like I'd better stop, too. Nearly philosophical. That could unbalance the world." The briefest shadow passes across his face, though he doesn't let it linger; perspectives, after all. "Or even less," he settles for. That shadow has her pausing, brows very nearly coming together - but it makes no sense to ruin the moment or the morning with digging or poking. "Even less," Aishani agrees, easily even. While she's bothered to get all the way up there, she'll keep kissing him, lazily trailing them along his jaw, down his neck. Like she said, she doesn't have anywhere to go. "This is usually the only way you stop talking," she points out, against his skin, as if she needs the excuse. And while that's not entirely true, it's true enough that it's a good excuse, at least. |
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