Logs:Beware blondes bearing baked goods
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| RL Date: 10 June, 2013 |
| Who: Tayte, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte cons K'del out of his rest day, then tries to make some of it restful. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 13, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Backdated and played via gdocs. |
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| The lesson here is to never trust a blonde bearing baked goods. When Tayte happened to decide to come up the night before K'del's next rest day, as had been casually inquired about, to make a nice cuddly night of it, she brought baked goods and booze. The booze were lighter in nature than her turnday, nothing to leave them in anything other than a bright and bushy-eyed state come morning. And she waited until they were snuggled up, comfy and K'del half-asleep, her fingers trailing idly on his chest, watching them from where her head was resting on his shoulder, to ask, "Would you mind doing me a favor tomorrow?" And how, when the circumstances were thus, could the answer ever be 'no'? Probably by the end of the first snowy, nasty, trip across the bowl, with the hero, Cadejoth, loaded up with furniture from the stores, the trap and it's careful laying had become obvious. By the end of the second... well, Tayte was carefully avoiding his gaze. But by the time that the furniture is all moved, down the twisty corridor and into her room, and settled, at least temporarily, Tayte is moving swiftly, and not just because it's cold. The hearth is stoked to a gentle roar, the kettle that was heating there is removed, and poured into two tall mugs. The drinks are spiked appropriately, and one is handed by the woman (who worked every step along with him), and a nod is given toward the bed, "It'd be warmer in there." The bed's new (to her), too, not that he might know the difference. Big enough for two to be comfortable, and piled high with furs and blankets. The offer is obviously the tricksy blonde offering the figurative olive branch. K'del is not, generally, prone to holding grudges, and so it's with good natured eyerolls and a few teasing comments that he (and his helpful, cheerful bronze) provide aid to the Vintner. "You're lucky we're friends," he says, stretching out aching muscles, and accepting the drink in both hands. He doesn't need a second invitation into her bed, and since his boots are already off (having been removed at the door - all that snow is messy underfoot), he's quick to clamber in. Still, "Remind me to ask myself ahead of time whether you're buttering me up for something, okay? So much for a rest day." But he's cheerful. And tired. "Well, it can be restful now," Tayte points out with a sweet smile, the kind to bribe away any residual hurt feelings. Besides warm furs, the other thing her bed seems to have in abundance is pillows. They're of every shape and size, and none of them match, though they make for a cozy nest, that allows the pair, once ensconced, to be semi-upright. Drink-assisting pillows, one might call them. Tayte's a moment or two longer as she pauses at a rickety-looking wardrobe (one that will surely be replaced with the much sturdier one they hauled in) to pull out what appears to be a very soft, oversized bathrobe. It looks warm. She's comfortable enough with him now that shucking off her snow-dampened sweater with her back to him is nothing out of the ordinary. Either she trusts him to avert his eyes from the smooth bronzen skin or simply doesn't care if he looks. She swathes herself in the robe before losing the pants, too. Then into the bed she climbs, looking quite cozy all on her own, and reclaims her cup from the empty keg currently impersonating a nightstand. "I promise never to rope you into helping me move an entire room's worth of furniture without warning you ahead, again." She probably makes this promise because she doesn't anticipate needing to do it again, ever. Or at least, not for turns. "And you really were tremendously helpful. Is there anything I can do to repay you?" Her tone had soared dramatically at 'tremendously', though the dramatics don't make the expression of gratitude any less genuine as she scooches up next to him, smile warm before its hidden by her mug. Does K'del look? It's more of a glance, really, and not even the pervy type. Sorry Tayte, you really may have been friend-zoned, or maybe he's just polite. Her promise has him snorting, good-naturedly, and nudging one of his feet at her leg beneath the furs. "Hah," he says. "See what you did there. Not stupid, you know." And then, a moment later, his expression all amusement, "You know, saying that makes this sound like one of those awful stories in books of erotic art, you know, where the well-built man helps the pretty girl, and she offers sexual favours as a reward." K'del has no shame on commenting on this: yes, he's ready these books. Even these supposedly 'awful' ones. "More seriously: I'm always happy to help a friend." "Blast. And here I thought I was being so smoooooth." Tayte complains, though her tone carries the distinct edge of teasing to it. She wiggles lower under the covers, slouching into the pillows. "Well, if I wasn't such a friend, maybe this would be one of those stories. I'd like to think it wouldn't qualify as awful, though. "Ironic, perhaps, seeing as how I'm such a friend." There's a lacking in his demeanor, she's apparently decided, some something that would surely be there if he were interested in her in some other way. "Did you even look at me while I was changing? Have we cuddled too much for you to think of doing else with me in a bed?" All of this is laced with mockery, but underneath there is an edge of curiosity to it all. "Hey now," says K'del, turning his upper body so as to prop it up onto some of the pillows. "I'm quite sure the writing would be much better, if this were one of these stories." It's the rest of her words, though, that have him studying her expression; they seem to give him pause. "Do you want me to look at you that way?" It's not really an answer, no. Tayte's look echo K'del's first words, her chin tilting and eyes narrowing slightly. 'Hey now.' It was her question that was to be answered. She might ask him if he wants to look at her that way, and spiral them into an endless game of question chicken. But that won't get her closer to an answer. So she purses her lips, considering. It wasn't a question she expected to be asked, for all that she was asking him. When she finally speaks, it's an answer and a question. "I might." Not really an answer, but perhaps it's forthcoming as she says after an exhale, "Would you see our friendship before whatever else? Some men-" She starts, explaining the question, expression turning darker, "-can't be friends with women they've made scream. Can you?" The darkness abruptly clears, as she flicks her blue gaze from her mug back up to the blond. It's obvious from the way she looks at him that she's laying cards on the table. Perhaps not all, but enough to show some of her hand - the hand that values the strangely fast friendship they've been nurturing. He promised to try and be upfront with her, as honest as he can be, and something in K'del's expression now suggests he's reminding himself of that promise; perhaps even steeling his resolve. "Been friends with plenty of women who've also been lovers," he says. "Thing is... sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. Nik's mother and I were friends before we were lovers, and then we ended up in a relationship, and now we're friends, but... not the way we used to be. But that's a bad example." He exhales, lowering his gaze towards his mug, which he takes a sip from. "You're a very attractive woman. If I'd met you at a bar, with a few drinks in me, I'd probably've invited you home with me." But he didn't. "Had that been the way of things, I'd've turned you down." Tayte's words come as simple statement of truth, eyes wandering to the far wall. They flick back to his face as she adds quietly, "Even though you are an attractive man." She shifts so she's more sitting than reclining, knees drawing up. She balances the mug in the valley of side-by-side knees. "I don't think there's much I can say with certainty since I'm sure I have less experience in this area than you do, but I can say, with certainty, that I've never been the relationship sort." Her brows knit as she continues to consider, her mind not made up. "What kinds of things make things go wrong for friends who become lovers?" Now, she doesn't look at him, focusing on some indistinct point in the room becoming cozier as the hearth replaces what heat was lost from all the in-and-outing of the moving job. "Which would've made me awkward, which means it would've been more difficult for us to become friends," concludes K'del, easily, though that's the only easy thing he can say, at the moment. "Never thought I was the relationship type, either. Pretty sure I've been in love twice, though, and in a relationship with both." It's complicated, though: his expression says it, and the lowness of his tone. He stares at his mug. "If I wanted a relationship at some point. Or if I ended up in a relationship with someone else, and they were uncomfortable with you. Or... there's plenty of ways sex can complicate things. I've plenty of former lovers I'm not really friendly with anymore." Tayte's lips momentarily twist with a wry smile as she turns her head to look at him, her chin pressed to her shoulder. "Then isn't it fortunate for both of us that we did not meet in a bar." She looks at him a moment, and then at her mug. She twists first away from him to place her mug on the keg-stand, and then impulsively toward him. Mindful of his own mug, one hand reaching to wrap around his on it, pulling it gently out of the way as she leans in, without hesitating to press a kiss to his lips. It's a testing kiss, and she'll stay past the initial moment of shock (if there is one), to give the kiss a chance, though not overly-long if she's not pushed away sooner. What's the point of even talking about it if the kiss is a lousy one? K'del's surprise and shock is obvious, and the kiss probably suffers as a result of it: it's a nice kiss, but nothing earth-shattering. Still, he lets her continue (and joins in, too, of course), and, afterwards, regards her evenly, his free hand lifting so that he can press the back of his hand to his lips. He sets his own mug down, twisting his arm to do so without breaking his gaze, which meets hers steadily. "And?" She meets his gaze, her expression contemplative. Rather than press her lips, her tongue flickers across them as she thinks. "Not bad. Not great. Nice. I'd call it." Tayte tilts her head regarding him, "Is that how you always kiss? Nicely?" There's something so subtle in the tilt of her head and the expression on her face. Subtle, but readable as an option to the man: say yes, or try again. "No." K'del's vehement on that, and there's a flush to his cheeks to confirm it. "No. Don't know. This feels--" He gives an uncomfortable shrug. "I'm not opposed to sleeping with you, Tayte. You're a beautiful woman. But this--" He gestures at himself, at her, then back again. "The way this is happening feels staged. Like it's not so much 'I want to kiss you' and more 'I want to see if I want to kiss you'. And I'd rather it be natural, you know? If we're going to turn this friendship into something with benefits beyond the cuddling, it ought to be because it happens." Tayte listens, the intensity of her gaze showing just how closely she's paying attention. When he finishes, a smile steals onto her lips, "Makes perfect sense to me." She takes a breath, "No over-thinking. And no assumptions. If it gets complicated, we'll sort it out somehow. If it doesn't, it doesn't. Just--" Here a playful finger rises to poke gently at K'del's chest, "--don't you forget that I'm an attractive woman who is your friend, but who also may or may not be of a mind to roll around under the covers with you." Her smile turns gentler and apologetic, no longer teasing as the blush that had resisted her own cheeks so long finally finds its way there. Her eyes fall, "Sorry if I made things overly complicated or uncomfortable just then. I should've learned my lesson about talking good things to death before now." Her eyes slide back up to his face, a new smile yet to be seen: shy. "Whatever else you may be or may become in my life, I know that you-- this--" She gestures to the pair of them, the bed, the whole closeness of friendship that they've developed, "--is a good thing." "Won't forget, that much I can promise." K'del's certain on that front, and equally certain on the other: "No. It's probably better we talked about it. The... dragon in the room, if you like. Least we know roughly where we both stand now on the possibility, even if the actuality will remain to be determined. We'll just have to see. And in the meantime?" He seems comfortable enough, even nudging his foot in the direction of hers beneath the covers. "It is a good thing. A very good thing. Pretty sure we both need it, you know?" The apology is eased by his words, and the movement of his leg is taken as invitation for Tayte to comfortably sprawl herself against and a little on top of K'del, her leg sliding over his, shifting to lean her back to his chest, head finding the right spot on his shoulder. After a moment of getting comfy, she breathes a sigh that is surely an indication of that state: comforted and comfortable. Her body language should be enough to assure him of her agreement. "All that said, then, let's get back to the original question, or rather the offshoot of the question: you mentioned once you had an undertaking in the works that I might be able to lend you my expertise in? Won't you tell me what it is so I can get a start on with not feeling like I'm taking every advantage in this friendship and not giving back near enough? Bad enough that I sneak into your bed and steal your warmth, that Vali likes you enough to ask when she next gets a playdate with you, and now I'm taking up most of your well-deserved rest day for manual labor in the snow and sleet and yuck." The sound she makes at that is accompanied by a wrinkle of her nose as she tilts her head up and back to look at him. Her words carry the usual warm humor, but there's an earnest desire there, too, to be of more use to him than body-heat and booze-babe. K'del is a comfortable enough pillow/bed-warmer/thing to lean up against, and adjusts his position just so to make sure of it. "Ah," he says, as she begins to speak, but it's not until she's finished that question - mouth curving into a contented smile at mention of her daughter - that he makes any effort to formulate an answer. Baby blue eyes meet hers, and as they do, he gives the minutest of nods. "West of here," he says. "And a little south, too, there is an island. It's not a big island, but it's got good soil, and the conditions are right... I'm trying to grow my own grapes. It's a long term thing, obviously. Might not even get fruit this season, but maybe the one after that." So much for comfy lounging! K'del's words have Tayte twisting around and sitting up a bit, shifting to where one drawn up knee sprawls across his lap so she can look him in the face. The first look is obviously one to see if he's joking. Then a few blinks and a look of disbelief, "You have an island?!" There might be more, but she apparently needs a moment to process her assumption. "I, uh..." K'del hesitates, visibly attempting to work out how to phrase this. "It's not mine in the sense that I own it, so much as that it was unoccupied, like most of those islands are, and so I started using it." He seems - not quite embarrassed, but a little awkward about this, as though he's not entirely sure of the legalities of it... but doesn't care, anyway. Not entirely. "A friend of mine fixed up the little hut I have, made it all tidy and liveable. So it's... mine in as much as anything can be." The legalities seem to be the last thing on Tayte's mind, and his mitigating words are ignored as she laughs, "You have an island!" Then she's slouching back against him, laughter shaking her torso, the movement able to be felt through the robe and layers of clothes. Then, ocean eyes bright, "Can I visit? You know, to get a sense of the soil and all that." Pause. "Tell me it's somewhere warm, pleeeease?" Because it's all about helping him out with the soil and grapes and stuff and not about gallivanting off to a hopefully tropical secret island. "It would be like something out of book. The awful, girly kind." She gives a fluttery sigh of the girlish variety, her look turning far away, a small smile blossoming as she gets lost in some daydream. Her reaction makes K'del smile, his hand lifting so that he can reach out and tuck some of her hair out of the way - though it's probably an excuse to run his fingers, even briefly, over her face. "That's adorable," he says, in a way that may well mean 'you're adorable'. "It's not especially warm, this time of turn, I'm afraid. More - wet and cool, though no snow or anything. I'm happy to take you for a visit at some point, though, of course. Whisk you away to show you my grapes and all." His mouth is twitching, amused. There's a moment where a pouty lip juts itself out to intensify the cute as he relates that it's not, in fact, some tropical island with idyllic weather and sunsets and all that girly crap. But the disappointment is momentary. Tayte's soon busy, daydream pushed aside, in order to roll her eyes at him. "I bet you make that offer to all the girls." There's no rancor in her alto, only amusement. "Fine, fine, if they get to be in a romantic Harper tale, why shouldn't I?" She presses on hurriedly, as though fearful that her teasing will cause a retraction to the offer. "Only mine will probably involve more dirt than one usually finds in those sorts of things." There's a little roll to her shoulders and a warm smile, "But that's life for you. Never like it is in the books. Were the grape starters brought from your home? Did your vintner brother help you? Or has this all been a solo experiment?" She briefly leaves the comfort of the snuggle to lean over to retrieve her drink from the makeshift nightstand, settling back in once she has it in hand. As Tayte goes to retrieve her mug, K'del does likewise, rather as though he's only just remembered that it existed... and is getting cold. "That's life," he agrees. "If you come in spring, it could be muddy, and you could--" His dimples are showing, teasingly. "Right. Cuttings from home. Got some help from my brother, couple of my brothers, actually, and my father. But once I actually have a crop, I'd rather stick to the Weyr, you know? Have a Weyr-based vintner on hand to help out. Imagine my vintages won't be much good, especially to start, but it's something productive even so, you know?" The settling back in is done carefully, but in the end, Tayte ends up leaning against K'del's chest while having her knees drawn up toes tucked under his thigh for warmth. Priorities dictate that she takes a few sips of the cooling drink before she addresses what he's told her. "It's very impressive, you know. Taking something that was nothing and coming as far as you evidently have with it." The compliment is genuinely delivered, even as she fidgets a little. It's not nervous energy, but excitement. Because... an island!! She maintains a little wiggle to her torso that results in a series of tiny little bumps against him, not enough to jar, just to change where exactly her body pressure exists from moment to moment. Sideways bouncing. "If you can stand to work with me, it was wine that got me into the Craft to begin with. I could be your personal Vintner. But I require at least once a seven as a rest day, and none of this 'not-really-a-rest-day' crap where your best friend suckers you into manual labor." As though this whole thing had been his idea, not hers. She can't maintain the straight face that delivered the words though, she's too ... well, bubbly with excitement. "Will you retire to the island one day? Do dragonriders retire? Is it your dream to have your own vintages or just a hobby? Is it the productivity that appeals to you or the 'what' of what you're being productive with?" Rapidfire the questions come, and then as soon as she realizes she's grilling him without even offering a chance to answer, her cheeks are betraying a blush and she quickly makes the key-turning-in-lock over her lips to indicate her readiness to listen to whatever answers he'll grant her. All those words, one after another, leave K'del with nothing to do but sip at his drink - once, twice, a third time, and then he sets his mug down again, doing so blindly so that he doesn't disturb Tayte's repose. "I--" he begins, afterwards - and then he laughs. "Shells. Not sure. Uh... always sort of intended it to help the Weyr, you know? One less thing we need to buy. Already got our own brewhold," thanks to an old deal with Edeline, back when matters were positive: a sale, one she can't take away, "but wine helps too. Your help'll matter. That's why I was so excited, meeting you. I mean," he smiles. "Aside from it being you." "My help will make it drinkable." Tayte teases, "I can see why that would be exciting. But, you know, I'm glad that it's me is just an extra perk for you." There's laughter in her eyes as she has the opportunity to take that tease further. Then the humor is tempered in her face as her ocean gaze meets his lighter one, searching it intently for a moment before she murmurs, "You really love this place, don't you." It's not really a question. "This place has been your life for so long. I don't think you'd ever leave it. Even if you did retire." Beat, then back to the teasing, but this time in a tremendously juvenile manner that is delivered with all the gusto of a ten turn old, "I bet you'd weyrmate the Weyr if you could. Even though it doesn't snuggle. Or look good in a dress." K'del's grin is unrepentant, and comes with a nudge of his leg against hers - a gesture of 'hey!' that is far from serious. Tayte's more serious remarks draw the smile away, however, and leave him hesitant and thoughtful. "I do," he agrees. "And yeah, not a snuggler, not good in a dress, but High Reaches is... it's part of me. Been part of me since I arrived, but especially since that awful night of my seventeenth turnday. I can't just walk away, much as I want to, sometimes. Part of me dreads the possibility of being Weyrleader again, and part of me rejoices in the prospect. She's in my blood, for better or for worse." As he speaks, her excitement doesn't wane but rather just shifts to be more respectful of the topic at hand. Her eyes are intense and searching once more as he speaks as though she were listening so she could quote him back every word if need be. At the end, Tayte's smile curls softly and there's a renewal of her blush. It's quite inexplicable, until the next words are breathed softly, "I-- really like that about you." There's no more bouncing now, in fact, she's quite still except for the slow, even rises and fall of her chest. Her eyes find their way back to his face from where they had wandered during her admission, "That you feel that way about something, with that kind of depth and-- I don't know how to term it... passion? Faith? Belief? That you can be so anchored by something, to something. Does that sound silly? Maybe it's because I've never had that. Never felt like that. I feel more at home slinging drinks behind a bar than I have anywhere else, but it's not-- like that, I don't think. I don't think I'd sound the same as you sound talking about it. I guess I'm-- a little envious. I don't even know if I have that kind of capacity of feeling something with that kind of depth, you know?" Her blush is quite noticeable now, and a hand lifts to touch her cheek as though to confirm that the blood is burning there as badly as she suspects, and her gaze is darting away, down to her mug. Tayte's reaction makes K'del blush, too, though even as he's blushing, he's also reaching out to squeeze her arm and say, "It's not always a good thing. It's heartbreaking, sometimes, caring about a place that much and not being able to help it. Or... worse, knowing that you've done things that have hurt it, even though you never, ever wanted to. Like loving a person, I guess, only everyone is judging you for it. More than usual. Sometimes I wish I didn't feel the way I do, you know? It hurts, sometimes." His gaze has gone distant, meandering off towards the opposite wall. It's only belatedly that he really seems to remember himself, and look back at Tayte, and say, "Anyway, I don't think it's a failing on your part, not even a little bit." It takes the touch to draw Tayte's gaze back to him, but once it's there, it's as intent and vivid as before. When she listens to him now, it is a whole body listening. There's subtle, and likely unconscious, shifts in the way her body inclines toward him. It's in the silence that follows the moment where he touches back on her that once more her graceful moves become quite swift. His mug is stolen away and a rapid but smooth twist, with all the ease of one used to the fast transport of drinks, puts both mugs onto the nightstand and abruptly she's back, her feet sliding over his opposite thigh and arms slipping one behind his neck and the other under his arm, curling against him. She's not really in his lap, just draped over it and close for a hug. Does she think he needs one? Or is it because she wanted one? Whichever the way, the hug is one that has 'need' to it. Her face presses lightly against his neck. "Is it wrong of me to be glad it is the way it is? Even though it hurts sometimes? I like you just as you are. If you could be you without the things that have hurt you before and the things that might hurt you in time yet to be, of course that would be better, but it's not possible," The tone of the last words indicate that it's just a fact. One that requires a squishing closer. It's a rare moment when K'del is not willing to be hugged (or to hug in return); as Tayte curls in against him, he puts his arms around her in reply, the fingers of one hand playing loosely with her hair, while the other supports her back from behind. "Mmm," he says, which isn't really a direct response to anything. Then: "No, probably not. You're right, of course. Wouldn't be me if I were missing any part of who I am. Got to take the good with the bad; the easy with the hard. Just the way life goes, right?" Tayte was already fairly relaxed, but the placement of his arms to return the hug has her breathing out in a little contented huff as some of the remaining tension and awkwardness of the earlier topics leak out of her. "Right." She agrees emphatically, "But it's better-- easier to face those bad and hard things when you have someone--" There's a touch of a blush to her cheeks, and she hurriedly clarifies, "-a friend, to share those things with." The tension that left briefly returns, but she's covering it up with a flex of her muscles as she leeeeeeeans backward, back arching over the set of his arm, reaching, for the mugs, grip upside-down. She has the flexibility, but the distance is just too great, so she ends up lying on the bed (on K'del's arm if he didn't move it), and then has to shimmy-wiggle herself a few inches to where her fingertips can latch around the mugs. Alas, K'del's arm. But no - he can lay still enough while Tayte attempts to fetch those mugs, his head turned so that he can watch her, thoughtfully. "Yeah," he agrees. "Friends to share things with. Not sure how people manage to get by without them - at least, when they're dealing with heavy thoughts. Even Cadejoth... dragon's not the same as a friend." The fluffy robe hides the flex of the muscles that surely must be there for her to smoothly sit back up, drawing the mugs past either ear as she does, passing K'del's to him. "I can only imagine," Tayte's smile is warm, "But I can also imagine that a dragon's rather nice also." There's no envy in her tone for it, just honesty. "So. Tell me more about your grapes." The grin is wide, but eyes excited to get into the details of his winemaking exploits. It turns out that, having not let many people in on his little project, K'del can talk at length about it... and seems eager to do so. For a wine-hating kid who was once desperate to leave the family vinehold, well. Times have changed. |
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