Logs:Being Fulfilled
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| RL Date: 15 October, 2014 |
| Who: Lilah, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin's doing hair of the dog the day after Turnover. Lilah wants a baby. |
| Where: The Sandbar, Ista Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions |
| It's the day after Turn's eve, and at Ista Weyr, most of the place is quiet, with many a morose expression nursing a hangover. R'hin's generally not one for moroseness, and apparently he's a big believer in hair of the canine, since he's seated at the beach side bar, settled so he can watch the docks. There's a mostly empty mug of beer in front of him, and he looks less rider and more vagabond, with his stubbled beard and wild hair -- not even to mention the most recent additions of a split lip and dark stains against his gray, half-open shirt. He seems to be surviving well enough, however, sipping carefully to avoid the injury, pale eyes red but constantly moving, alert. At least at Ista, the world is not blanketed by snow and ice and cold, and that much even Lilah can appreciate if only for Eliyaveith's happy sake where she has buried herself into the beach's sands. Her dragon may be alone, but the Fortian weyrwoman is not where she approaches Ista's bar, clad in a sage green dress that likely looks awfully familiar. The cut of it's v-neck and the braided straps that bare her shoulders may not be familiar to her companion, but it certainly draws his eyes anyways even as the goldrider answers a question with a flat tone of annoyance. He doesn't notice, nor does he notice the way she suddenly falls silent, recognizing R'hin only after they have made it to the bar, with her dark eyes settling on him in a weighted study. The docks are all but empty, and yet they hold the High Reaches' bronzeriders attention. A couple of ships are moored there, though there's little doubt their occupants are sleeping away the previous evenings' celebration. Gulping down the rest of his beer -- with a brief wince -- R'hin turns attention away from the docks to catch the bartenders eye, nodding towards his mug. As the liquid splashes into the mug, his attention wanders, and settles on the red head in the green dress, lips quirking briefly -- though the gesture fades almost instantly into a wince, given his split lip. Pale eyes take in the goldrider and her companion in the span of a few seconds, and he pushes to his feet, stretching out hands in offer to her, "Darling. So glad you could make it. Shall we get a table?" Her companion is a dragonrider as well, that much is immediately obvious even without the knot of an Istan bronzerider on his shoulder. Irritation shows immediately at the interruption, for all that the presence of a weyrwoman knot is enough to keep his reaction subtle so as not to offend Lilah, though he says lightly, "You did not say that you were meeting anyone here. Though sailors, well..." He doesn't finish the sentence, but it's clear what he thinks about sailors and by extension, R'hin. Lilah doesn't answer either immediately, her lips parted briefly and then pressed together again in a tight line, before she finally, finally answers, "Well, you never did give me a chance to tell you, or I would have regretfully informed you. If you will excuse us, we missed Turn's End together given our respective-- whatever. Fort's duties, C'los." Ok, so that last bit was not as smooth as R'hin's, given 'whatever's, but still Lilah moves to accept R'hin's offered touch. The look R'hin gives C'los is one that might well be expected from a jealous suitor, a mix of she's mine, and back off, his arm sliding around Lilah's waist rather comfortably, like it's a frequent gesture. Of course, this doesn't mean he doesn't stop to collect his beer with his other hand, as he guides the Fortian towards a table away from the bar, but in sight of the docks. "You realize," the bronzerider murmurs into her ear, "When you treat them mean, it only encourages them to try harder," his voice is a mixture of familiar laughter and light-hearted amusement, his hand falling free of her waist to gallantly tug out a chair for her. "That is because they don't have the common sense to take it the other way," Lilah counters simply, settling into that chair in one smooth movement that has her only glancing briefly behind them to find C'los. Luckily, he has rebounded quickly with a younger and likely more friendly woman; and well, if her gaze lingers for a moment in what might be annoyance, it's a woman's prerogative. When she turns back to R'hin, she does so with the curve of a brow upwards in a silent question. "Or, some just like the challenge," R'hin replies, resting his hands on Lilah's shoulders for a moment. "I must say, that's a very lovely choice of dress," he murmurs brief as he bends near her, before straightening and sliding into the adjacent seat. Her questioning look merely receives one in turn, a hint of amusement in pale eyes as he reaches for his mug, taking a generous sip, after which he says, "Since I've rescued you like the gallant knight I am, the least you can do is ply me with praise, or adoration, or... well, I'll settle for beer and gossip," he amends, with a low-throated chuckle. The flicker of a small, brief smile pulls at Lilah's lips as she challenges R'hin with a dry, "How do you know that you rescued me? What if I were in precisely the situation that I wanted to be in?" Yet, she does reach for her mark to place on the table, to draw the attention of a server as soon as one has the time to spare. (They do not bother to actually take their orders. When a server reappears, they bring just another beer for R'hin and a 'goldrider' for Lilah, making assumptions.) "I take it you have heard about the eggs. You've seen my knot. Some of our tithe shipped from Gar had turned foul." "Huh," R'hin regards her anew, pale eyes considering. "Set yourself up with an unwanted suitor, so I'd be forced to rescue you? How very manipulative of you, dear goldrider," he says with a hint of accusation, and yet demeanor remains amused. He waves off talk of the eggs, just as quickly as he does the news of the knot, and the tithe. He does take the beer, however. "Is that all that's happened to you since we last met? My dear, your life has been so dull. Do you, at least, feel fulfilled now that your Weyrwoman appears to trust you?" "You are assuming the suitor was unwanted," Lilah replies with a touch of annoyance to sharpen her words for the assumption or for something else. At least she has a drink to distract her, lifting it quickly to her lips for a sip before she adds, "Well, my life certainly isn't as exciting," her gaze goes over R'hin's lip and bruises at this, "as yours, but I appreciate that." She pauses, considering R'hin for a long moment. "No, I do not feel fulfilled being knotted, but-- I have been considering having a child for that." "No, I'm assuming you did a quick comparison in your head between him, and me, and there was really no comparison," R'hin counters, with a knowing curve of lips. He notices the scrutiny, of course, and there isn't a trace of embarrasement or awkwardness at it, just a brief shrug of shoulders. "If one can't enjoy oneself at Turnover, what better time?" While she studies him, the Wingleader's gaze flickers off towards the docks, casually, then back just as, "A child?" his brow lifts. "You really think having a child will... fix that?" "Getting punched in the face isn't everyone's idea of enjoying yourself. I hope you at least enjoyed whatever caused them to split your lip." Lilah's smile returns, briefly, as she responds to his casualness with a hint of buried humor of her own. It is only at his question that it melts away again as if it were never there. The line of her lips flattens into something defensive as she says, "Not just that, no. I want to raise a child that will have a better life. I want--. There are worse reasons to have a child." "Well," he chuckles abruptly, conceding the point, "The actual getting punched was not so fun," R'hin presses a hand to his abdomen, briefly. "But the rest of it," he chortles under his breath, visibly unrepentant. He imbibes more of the beer, and there's another casual look around the bar, and outside, too. "And there are better ones too," his gaze is intent, serious for once as his attention comes back to Lilah. A long pause, before he asks blandly, "Is this about Eliyaveith?" "What was the rest of it?" questions Lilah, curious, as she settles her drink in the cradle of her fingers. It does not stop the growing cloud of darkness that draws at R'hin's response, at that specific question. "It is not about Eliyaveith. And given that I am not asking you to be the father, it is not really your concern." She doesn't meet his gaze, though, not where she is finally the one to look around the bar, though she looks specifically towards C'los briefly. "Someone decided it'd be fun to poke the big feline. I didn't disagree," R'hin says, rather blandly. His brows twitch upwards, particularly at her look twards C'los. "Really? I thought you had more taste than that. At least if you're going to use a man, pick a learned one. With his heritage you never know what you might get." Spreading his hands, as if conceding, he nevertheless says, "And yet you are talking to me about it. Perhaps because, instead of a child, you need something else." "He is a dragonrider," points out Lilah, not in defensive but logically as she continues, "Of a different Weyr. Even if he cared about a child he fathered, he'd have to put in a transfer if he thought to take advantage of--." Whatever, she at least doesn't say. Her gaze draws away from him, at least, to narrow instead on R'hin at the last of what he says. She doesn't ask, for all that curiosity must be eating her up alive. "I am surprised it wasn't your idea." "Dragonrider doesn't automatically equate to the best choice." Her talk of taking advantage has R'hin's brows lifting in mute surprise. "Is that why?" with a snort, as if it suddenly makes sense to him, now. She doesn't ask, and he doesn't offer any more, gulping down another mouthful of beer with care taken for his injury. "I have a wing of smart men and women. I rarely need to come up with ideas any more; I just rely on their brilliance." It's hard to tell if he's being facetious, genuine, or somewhere in the middle. Lilah's weighted study lingers on R'hin as if she could divine out the answer rather than asking, but she only voices, "It is not a concern to take lightly. If they thought they could take advantage of my position, there are any number of people that I have met that would do it shamelessly." With another long sip of her alcoholic drink, though, and the humor she takes from R'hin's reply, the goldrider does at least start to ease away from defensive as she settles back somewhat in her seat. "I am sure it has something to do with getting old. Young riders, new tricks." "If you really think there are that many people who would take advantage of you in that fashion, then clearly you've been socializing with the wrong people. Or," with a knowing half-smile, "Not socializing at all. Dice does not count," R'hin says, very firmly. "Did you at least enjoy your Turnover? Outside of Fort?" There's an inevitable sort of snort at her mention of young riders. "There's always something to be said for experience, but I think we've had that particular conversation before." "Given that that particular conversation always goes nowhere with you except talk--," counters Lilah, a hint of sassiness worming its way through alcohol into her words as she curves a brow upwards at R'hin in a silent challenge. "Dice is where I spend most of my time. If you do not count that, then, well." A pause, and she manages to be a little self-conscious before she adds, "There was a lot to coordinate at the Weyr, with Hattie on the Sands with Elaruth still." A cluck of his tongue soon follows. "Excuses." R'hin doesn't clarify whether he means her former or latter statement, but perhaps it suffices for both. "A waste of a Turnover. Next time," whenever that is, "I'll help you do it properly." That is in a year, if he's referring to Turnover, but there is a soft edge of a buried smile as Lilah brings her drink back up to her lips, even as she asks, "Will I end up with a split lip?" "No, I rather think that avenue is done and dusted," and there's an odd hint of regret briefly in the Savannah rider's voice. "But I would insist on dancing, as my due." "Your due?" questions Lilah on what may be a laugh that escapes with the words, her brows lifting upwards as she regards R'hin with dark eyes. R'hin nods, pale eyes amused. "For proving a fun night of experiences," he clarifies. Sort of. Lilah considers his clarification for longer than strictly necessary, even taking the time to slowly finish her drink, before she finally agrees, "Perhaps. If they pass, then you may have a dance." "A. Singular. Sole. One," R'hin lets out an expressive sigh. "Fine. But then you have to dance with someone else, of my choosing." "I cannot even imagine who you would choose." There is a question to the way Lilah falls silent for a moment, expectation written in the quietness as if he'll have an answer, but she moves on to add, "I think I can agree to those terms. Two dances." R'hin looks inordinately pleased with himself, nodding approval at her agreement. "You'll have to wait and see. But now," he takes another gulp of his beer, finishing all but the last dregs. "I've had nothing but beer all morning, and I suspect if I don't get food soon, Leiventh will insist on dragging me back to the 'Reaches." He stands, abruptly, then looks down at her, expectantly. "The markets ought to be open." "Don't worry; I will be fine here without you to rescue me, I promise," is what Lilah replies to R'hin, assuring him with warm humor as she even offers a small smile. "I will remember not to encourage anyone by being a challenge." A brief twitch of shoulders, as the bronzerider adds, "I'll be going for a swim after lunch. Leiventh's due a scrub." Whether that's invitation or merely informative is hard to say; either way, R'hin is striding off across the room for the exit. |
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