Logs:Be Brave
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| RL Date: 27 June, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, Lilah, Elaruth, Eliyaveith |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The afternoon before the eggs hatch, Hattie and Elaruth make a final visit to Lilah and Eliyaveith. |
| Where: Galleries, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Briallan/Mentions, Llowri/Mentions, Paislie/Mentions, Cirse/Mentions, Ali/Mentions, Orialu/Mentions |
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| The preparations for Eliyaveith and Liesanth's clutch have not quite made it to full swing, as the dragonhealers guess that it might be another two days and Eliyaveith's uncertainty as a new mother does little to pinpoint that time down to any specific realm. She certainly has been antsy today, though, unable to still and just watch her eggs. Instead, she is tediously, slowly rearranging them in a pattern that only seems to matter to her. It certainly doesn't matter to Lilah, for all that she's dragged her usual collections of accoutrements down to the very first row of seating in the galleries. The buttery yellow scarf that she knits is nearly long enough to be called done, if she's not going for any extra length. And while it's not the world's best scarf, with some stitches too tight and others too loose or crooked, it is at least a wearable attempt. This is what she focuses on, her own outpouring of tension devoted to the knitting even where her dragon devots herself to those eggs. Neither Elaruth nor Hattie have been fixtures in the galleries, not as they might have been for other clutches not their own, though, this afternoon, the Weyr's senior queen carefully wings down from the skies to drop onto one of the higher ledges, something quietly soothing in the bright, soft mist that so often defines her presence. She doesn't speak, nor make silent comment on the arrangement of eggs, but simply observes her daughter the clutch, a soft, quiet being and nothing more. A minute or so later, Hattie emerges from the chill of the outside world, the sands not given a glance, as she strides through the galleries and eventually finds her junior. Knitting is watched for a half-moment, before she says, "...I used to do the same." Eliyaveith croons a soft greeting to her dam, welcoming and warm though she does not seek the advice that Elaruth does not offer. Instead, she draws back from her clutch and the arrangements for a moment, so that she does not obscure her dam's view of the children to come, and lifts her own whirling, anxious gaze to the senior queen even as she seeks comfort from her soft mists. "I don't know how anyone can stand it. I've stabbed myself too many times to count, and I still don't know how to make sure every loop is the same size," complains Lilah in soft self-deprecation, words only slightly wry as she lifts her gaze away from the scarf and towards Hattie. But then, silently, she offers it out for the Senior Weyrwoman to inspect, for her approval or disapproval. Elaruth inches a touch nearer to the edge of the ledge that she's chosen, Eliyaveith's eggs and their arrangement given their due attention, her gaze a calm blue. She'd wrap her daughter up in that mist and hold her close, if she could, but she settles for finally choosing two gentle words, her pride in the younger queen and her clutch all too plain. « Be brave. » Hardly a whisper, but there's encouragement there. "Sometimes, it's about more consistent tension." Hattie must be talking about the knitting, not that she makes it particularly clear, too busy leaning a little closer to inspect the scarf. She lets one hand reach with the intention of brushing gently over stitching, more curious than anything, then draws back and gives a single nod. "It'll serve its purpose. It's presentable. All we can hope of a lot of things, I think." She shoves her hands back into the pockets of her long coat, no move made to remove it, despite the heat. "I can only do scarves or squares," the Weyrwoman confesses a little wryly. "I tried hats, once. It didn't go so well." "I can only imagine trying to knit on a circle-- I would probably burn it before I ever finished. At least /this/ will be finished before they're ready," Lilah agrees, dropping the scarf back into her lap and glancing towards the eggs and the queens. Eliyaveith takes comfort in that pride, warm light filling her at the touch of it, but she only rumbles a soft noise to her dam of her own agreement. « I will, » is promised, even before she promises for /them/: « They will. » Elaruth delivers a soft, phantom nudge of maternal affection to the crook of Eliyaveith's neck, yet then she withdraws almost completely, turning about on her chosen ledge to... sleep? She curls up, wings tucked tight, and lodges her head beneath one of those shadow-brushed wings, evidently prepared to be as insignificant as possible, but not to move. Not just yet. "...Do you think it will be soon?" Hattie asks quietly, even though she's angled herself so as not to have the Sands in view. "The kitchen will have some quick work to do, but that's true of any hatching. They never adhere to a schedule." As Elaruth withdraws, antsy concern returns slowly to Eliyaveith's heat, her whirling gaze focusing that for a long moment on her dam. But then those eggs draw her attention away, and she resumes her careful arrangement driven by that tense need. "Soon. Tomorrow, I'd guess," replies Lilah simply, tipping her chin in a nod before she lifts her gaze back to Hattie. "Is there anything that I should do? I can talk to the kitchens and figure out the menu-- We'll have to arrange for the Holders to be brought in." Hattie shakes her head and replies, "Most things are more or less in place. It's really just a matter of telling the right people 'now', whenever the time comes. Everyone's expecting it, so no-one should have any excuses for not being ready to act." She rocks back on her heels a little. "The plan is to have the older weyrlings brought out of the barracks for a lesson, to keep them out of the way for a bit while the younger ones adjust. Not so many curious young minds poking and prodding at them." The Weyrwoman doesn't quite smile, but there's a wryness there. "Maybe the holders will learn something, if they see them at their lesson in the bowl." "Can holders ever learn anything?" Lilah questions dryly to that, but she doesn't argue against the plan. Instead, she tips her chin in a simple nod of agreement. "As soon as she knows, I will let you know." A pause, before she questions, "How are the older weyrlings? I haven't seen much of them, with--." A gesture of fingers, subtle and brief. Being trapped here, the eggs. "It depends whether they're wilfully ignorant or not." Hattie's hands shove deeper into her pockets as she takes a deep breath in. "If ignorance can ever be deliberate or wilful, in those who have access to education and decent folk." Judgemental, but she's unrepentant for her darker remarks. She swallows hard before she can address the matter of the other weyrlings on a more than practical level, and, narrowing her eyes a little, she lifts her gaze to the far wall. "They all seem... normal. If any dragon is normal. I mean that there don't seem to be any serious issues presenting yet, but they're young." Lilah's agreement comes with the flicker of a sharp smile, but she doesn't press the subject of the holders. Instead, the smile falls away into something softer at Hattie's answer, before she is adding, "Old enough that we'd have seen any serious issues already. Hopefully Eliyaveith's children are just as healthy as Elaruth's." She doesn't speak to the green, avoiding that subject, but can it ever really not weigh on any such conversation? "Elaruth is sure that Eliyaveith's babies will be perfect." Hattie can't say it with lightness, if only because her queen must always believe the same of her own children. "She's never remarked much on the clutches of queens not of Fort. I wonder if they're all aware of bloodlines and continuation; some instinct that makes them more interested in their own." She still doesn't quite manage to look at Lilah. "All I know for sure is that she understands family in ways that people have claimed is strange." It is only now that Lilah seems to start noticing that Hattie isn't meeting the gaze, as she looks to her Senior. There is a hint of question in the curve of the goldrider's brows, though she only answers, "Eliyaveith identifies them as Elaruth's grandchildren. Something like that, or different? Does she care about her sister's clutches? Isyath's, and even Llofruddiaeth's interest Eliyaveith, as part of her family." And she will continue to watch Hattie as she speaks, careful to observe exactly where she looks and any emotion there, now. Hattie has to consider that, head tilting, though her focus remains fixed on the far wall, as if she's found a particularly nice or interesting piece of engraving. "...I've not really thought about that before," she has to admit, quiet still. "She cares for her children, and her children's children... I'm not sure that she's ever shown that same interest in other relations, other than her own dam. I know she's never grown out of loving her." Another not-smile surfaces, too heavy with irony. "I had barely any interest in a family beyond my sisters, before her," she murmurs. "...I suppose we'll see how your sister does, soon enough." "Her dam was a given," is only somewhat dry as Lilah's perception of Hattie's inability to look at her is processed however her brain processes something like that. (Not good, if history stands.) "I think she is glad to see her here, now." But, she looks away as well, towards the eggs again, before she adds, "They are Eliyaveith's children; one of them will want her." Her gaze lingers on that golden egg, however. "They can all call it strange as much as they like," Hattie decides, finally drawing her attention back from the wall and to her junior. "I'd not wish for a Weyr where the queens cannot bear each other and see only rivals. I only hope that that much of instinct is passed down, if--" If that egg contains a queen; if she hatches; if she lives. Nothing of that sounds certain to her, not anymore. "Hope for their happiness, if nothing else." It seems that's what she'll cling to for now. Abruptly, her manner changes, a turn to more businesslike made with the straightening of shoulders. "Can I bring you anything?" "Even Isyath seemed to care for her dam, even if she wasn't the most maternal of queens," is how Lilah chooses to match that if, none of her own certainties present either. Yet she shakes her head to the offer, drawing to her own feet as she sets the knitting down. "No. I'm fine." A pause, before she adds, "Thank you." A reluctant, almost warm quirk of her lips is drawn unbidden at mention of Isyath, though Hattie chooses not to find words to go with her involuntary response. She looks Lilah up and down, no effort made to conceal the assessing nature of this sharper study, then reaches a hand to brush the curve of her nearest shoulder. "Be brave." Whether a conscious or unconscious echoing of her queen, she gives no indication that it's deliberate. She turns then, to swiftly make her way from the galleries, until circumstances necessitate a return. |
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