Logs:Brave or Foolish
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| RL Date: 3 March, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, Aislara |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aislara confesses what happened in Southern. |
| Where: Solarium, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 2, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Nala/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, C'stian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backscene. |
| The sanctuary may be closed, which has diminished the traffic to and through the solarium somewhat, but midday still finds the circular, glass-roofed cavern occupied by at least one person having lunch. Away from the bustle of the caverns, Hattie has set herself up on one of the roomier couches and still jammed herself into one of its corners all the same, knitting needles in her lap, though her focus seems to be elsewhere and not quite on the stitches that she's automatically creating. On the small table at the couch's nearest arm sit a flask of tea and a mug, the remains of a deconstructed sandwich on a small plate beside them. Aislara has slept most of the day, having returned from Southern closer to morning than evening. Rather than solicit Ryerith to locate Hattie, the greenrider has systematically been checking known locations the Weyrwoman prefers. She enters the Solarium to make a quick check and then head out but it is here she finds Hattie. She still looks like she needs hours of sleep from the circles underneath her eyes and the rather unkempt quality to her. "Hattie?" she asks as she steps further into the room. "I need to talk.. well tell you something..," she takes a deep breath and after she ensures no one else is in the room she dives right into the confession, "Ryerith rose at Southern. I apologized to the Weyrleaders after," she turns scarlet as she continues, "but it was with Jynth.. and I didn't know, I hadn't planned.. I wasn't trying." Flustered, she stops and gazes at her feet. The needles keep right on moving as Hattie tries to process all of that, her gaze sharpening enough for her focus to land on Aislara and draw back from whatever distant place it was roaming in the moments before the greenrider's appearance and the injection of all those words into the air. The Weyrwoman parts her lips, but doesn't actually offer any response, and instead lets a frown more defined by confusion than displeasure colour her expression. It turns out that her oh so intelligent answer turns out to be, "What?" until she manages to summon more than that bland, surprised question. "You weren't trying what?" she clarifies slightly. "I.. You said that you were going to keep her flight open. Why would you take her to Southern if her rising was in your head already?" "I knew she was due, but it wasn't supposed to be now. I had a week or more.. she's usual very consistent. But I was.. and she suggested.. she made it seem safe. I wasn't.. I wasn't proddy," Aislara's defense comes out in a rush of words, words that keep on tumbling out, "I hadn't been myself. People noticed. It just...," she shakes her head, taking pause for one shuddery breath. "It was an open flight there." She continues to stare at her feet. "I'm a weyrlingmaster.. I teach them to be careful.. to know. I have no excuse for my actions." She gulps air and grabs her hands together, wringing them to ease the rush of anxiety coursing through her. "I'm sorry. I will take my punishment without complaint. It's deserved." "Sit down before you keel over." Hattie doesn't so much make that an invitation as she does an order - or at least her voice hits that same low, stern tone. "And I wouldn't go around asking for punishments, you know? You're just planting ideas in people's heads." She glances down into her lap as she reaches the end of a row, needles slowing as she pulls the ball of pale pink wool a little closer and keeps it still by balancing it against one of the creases in the fabric of her skirts. "You weren't yourself. People noticed. I think you've more or less defined 'proddy' there, Aislara," she says more gently. "You've said that you apologised. If Ali or her Weyrleader want to take it further, then... that'll be that. Whether the flight was open or not... are you sure you really didn't know? Honestly?" Aislara moves forward and seats herself when told, too used to following that tone to argue - not that she would. She finally looks up and meets Hattie's gaze once she's seated. "I honestly didn't. Ryerith wanted it her way. When we talked about making it open.., I didn't consider her feelings. She wanted Jynth and she made it happen." This is shared in a matter of fact way and followed by a small shrug. "If that was proddy... I get flirty. I don't get angry. I hadn't slept since she left. I haven't been myself since then." She catches herself falling back into the defensive so she stops abruptly and slouches back in the chair. Hattie wrinkles her nose. "I suppose I'm not really in much of a position to argue, given I had no idea Elaruth was going to rise when last she did," she admits under her breath. "If Ebeny decides she'll have you answer for it, all I can say is that I wouldn't let the weyrlings hear about it, even if they're not about to be weyrlings anymore. I don't think it'd do your position as a teacher much good." She's blunt with that, though not unkind - certainly not cross. Finally, the needles stall completely as she looks Aislara over, her attention perhaps deliberately obvious. "...Have you told her that you want her to come home?" Aislara shakes her head. "No. I told her I'd go with her, when she said she was going." Her cheeks flush again and she looks down at her hands. "I almost left all I have here.. for her. And I'm glad I stayed, she needed.. and I needed, well." She bites her lip, knowing her words aren't making much sense. "I brought her things of her children. Nalyn had made her a picture and I had brought it to her. She told me she didn't want it, that the children weren't hers anymore. That she was.. she didn't want to be their mother." She scrubs her hands together. "And then Ryerith was so obviously glowing.. she was angry, I was angry." She shakes her head again and again at each 'angry'. "Afterwards, she cried. A lot. And then.. I left." So simple. She still can't look at Hattie. "I'll keep my discrepancy to myself. And I'll let Ebeny know. I think she'll understand." Hattie tilts her head a little at left, but she refrains from commenting, directing her gaze down at her knees, just beyond the edge of whatever she's knitting. "...I can't imagine not wanting my children," she murmurs. "I had... planned on giving up my eldest when he was born, but... I couldn't let him go. I don't know if that's a very brave or very foolish decision that she's making." She lets out a sharp sigh, needles resuming their work. "You can't let her decisions become yours. I mean that... if you have to make a choice between her and what you want... don't make a choice that you'll regret. You're young. You've got a lot of turns in you to hate someone for what their choices forced on you." Aislara's only answer to Hattie's observations is silence. She continues to stare at her hands for a length of time that is past the point of polite for a reply to surface. Finally, she shakes herself a little and looks up at Hattie. "I suppose I am foolish with love. I won't give up on her that easily. Something happened.. and she's hurting. More than is normal." She lifts a hand to brush her hair back from her face. "I was wrong to go and visit her. I had promised myself I wouldn't... because to go, when she didn't ask me to, was selfish behavior on my part. I don't know if she'll want me still. Not now that it.. that it looks like I purposefully tricked her and forced her," a flush extends from her chest, up her neck and towards cheeks, "and I have no real excuse. Not one that makes any sense." She sighs and leans back, looking defeated. "I hate myself, Hattie. Look at me. I only come to see you when I have problems.. I keep making bad choices..," she shakes her head, looking back at her lap in miserable silence. "That's not what I'm suggesting," Hattie starts to say, only to bite back the rest of her sentence and take a moment to regroup and consider what she wants to say. "...I mean that you shouldn't make decisions that you don't want to because someone else makes you have to." Bundling it all up together, mindful of the stitches held on needles, she lifts her knitting up onto the table beside her and leans the ball of wool against the plate to stop it escaping and rolling away. "Come here," she gently invites, one arm lifting in an offer of an embrace. "If you love her, then... you love her. Objectively, there might be a time when you should wonder if she's the bad choice. On the other hand... I let my weyrmate vanish all day and all night and barely speak to me, so what do I know?" Aislara looks up at Hattie's invitation and moves to slide beside the Weyrwoman and lean into that embrace. She shouldn't have any more tears to cry, yet some come unbidden to be wiped at quickly. "Love is too complicated," she murmurs, resting her head against Hattie with a tired sigh. "And it has no easy answers." She takes a moment to collect herself and then she asks, looking up at Hattie, "Is he okay? I know the Weyrleader has been busy.. and there was this rumor.. about C'stian..," she frowns and then shrugs, looking embarrassed. "It's none of my business." Hattie lifts a gentle hand to run her fingers smoothly over Aislara's hair in what she must hope is a soothing motion. "I know," she murmurs, something low and heartfelt there. "...It's not my place to say," is quietly remarked of the situation with N'muir and C'stian, "but... if anything, most rumours around here usually turn out to be true." Her arm tightens a little around Aislara, as much for the greenrider's comfort as it is for her own, it would seem. "I'm waiting," she admits. "Either he'll talk to me, or he won't. If either of us doesn't want to and we try, we usually just end up yelling at each other or... doing other things." Other things that lend a shade of colour to her cheeks, though she doesn't otherwise appear embarrassed in the least. "So, maybe that's you and me both waiting." She gives a quiet sigh and falls into an easy silence, though keeps her hand running over Aislara's hair. "He isn't talking to you?" That surprises Aislara and seems to soothe her more than that gentle smoothing of her hair. Tension slowly drifts away from her shoulders and stomach, giving her reason to lean against Hattie even more with a tired smile offered. "You always make me feel better. I wish.. I wish I was better at offering the same to you." She glances to the needlework and then back at Hattie with the brightening of an idea. "I have some spare marks.. and it looks like you aren't pressed for time?" she asks with a hopeful upturning of her mouth, "We could go shopping. Distract ourselves and you can help me buy some new things for my weyr. It's time I added my mark to it." However long it may take for such a venture to become reality won't matter to Aislara. If Hattie's schedule allows for it, the Aislara will make a point of making a day out of their trip outside of the Weyr. There will be food, drink, and shopping. Hopefully each of them will be able to forget their worries and laugh somewhere in that mix. |
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