Logs:Coming to Terms
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| RL Date: 16 October, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Oliwer |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Teisyth's flight, G'laer goes looking for his missing weyrmate. There are feelz involved. It's not good. |
| Where: Healer Hall |
| When: Day 6, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Gheara/Mentions, Owana/Mentions, Reniler/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Angst. Feelz. Back-dated. |
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| The night of Teisyth's flight, G'laer did not come. He gave himself the night alone in their weyr to think. But in the morning, he was waiting, outside Master Reniler's office. Where else would Oliwer go but home? The Hall was immortalized in the tapestry over their hearth, was there anywhere else he would go? It's the logical choice to start his search. He leans against the wall outside the door, dressed down to casual clothes and his long brown coat. G'laer is a patient man when it comes to these things. If Oliwer were really trying to avoid G'laer, he might consider going somewhere else. But the healer doesn't think that way. It's with a woman even older than him that Oliwer approaches the office with soon enough. And it's not until it's too late to redirect that he notices G'laer, but he still tries to ignore the greenrider's presence after his initial surprise and usher his mother into the office without dealing with his weyrmate. There is about a zero percent chance that G'laer doesn't know exactly who Oliwer is arriving with, but things between them haven't escalated so much (yet) that the greenrider chooses to interrupt. He's enough paces away from the door against the wall that he might be waiting for anyone along this corridor. He makes brief but purposeful eye contact with his weyrmate before letting his eyes fall to the ground. What that look means? He'll wait, but there will be consequences if he has to wait long. It's entirely too soon, from Oliwer's perspective, that he re-emerges. He doesn't approach the greenrider directly, moving to walk past him with a brief glance to his weyrmate's face that's probably meant to say that he's not ignoring him. They just need to go somewhere less here. G'laer waits until Oliwer is a respectable distance, makes his expression go vacant the way other dragonmen look when talking to their dragons and then sets off after him at a casual pace. He'll follow him where the Journeyman wants to go. Oliwer ends up in the room that are serving as his temporary quarters during his, theoretically, temporary stay at Healer. Being alone with G'laer is probably not his first choice of places to be, but it's, perhaps, better than the alternative of anyone finding out about the fact that they're together. So when the greenrider catches up, Oliwer is facing the door and looking pensive, arms crossed over his chest. "What are you doing here?" G'laer closes the door behind him because that's what Oliwer wants, right? Then he leans against it, folding his arms across his chest in mimic of the healer's posture. They're alone here; it's safe to drop his guard that way. He keeps his voice low. "I'm looking for my weyrmate. Have you seen him?" "If I see mine, I'll be sure to let him know," returns Oliwer without missing a beat. "You shouldn't be here, G'laer. Go home." That will work, right? "No." No. Well, it's probably not like Oliwer expected G'laer to just leave. But it was worth a shot. "Then tell me why you're here." "Because you were gone, Oli. Did you even say goodbye?" The greenrider looks at him, expression not betraying emotion even if his tone is frustrated. "Are we telling each other things now? I can never keep it straight." The greenrider can sound as frustrated as he wants. Maybe it's Oliwer that wants a fight now. Even so, he sounds genuine when he says, "I'm sorry about your grandmother, G'laer. I know she meant a lot to you." Oliwer must want a fight now because it looks like he just hit G'laer. It's probably good that the greenrider is already leaning against the door because his knees are going weak on him and he's slipping down the wood to sit at its base, his eyes closed. For a moment he can't trust himself to speak. And then, "Who told you?" There are surely reactions Oliwer was expecting. Was this one of them? Probably not. But that doesn't make him cave. Not yet. "It doesn't matter who told me. What matters is that you didn't tell me. It's been months, G'laer. You let me think I'd done some--" His voice cracks with emotion, both his own and the sympathy he feels for his weyrmate. He's more composed when he asks, "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me be there for you?" G'laer is silent. It's some moments and then he's getting to his feet and turning to the door to open it. Oliwer watches the greenrider, but he doesn't do anything to stop him when he opens the door. It's not until his weyrmate is leaving that the healer says as though he's not sure he'll have the chance to say it again, "I love you, G'laer." The words stop him. One foot is out the door, the other still within. Was there ever such a metaphor embodied? The subtle rise and fall of his shoulders tell a deep breath taken. "I don't know how to do this." Whatever this is. It's said quietly. "I don't know how to be what you want me to be. What she wanted me to be. I'm not that. I'll never be that." Does he realize the door is still open? Possibly not. Oliwer is very aware of the open door, but he doesn't choose now to point it out. "I don't want you to be anything, Gal. I love you. Not who you could be if you weren't you. I can only imagine that she felt the same way." That's what love is, isn't it? "I just want you to be happy. I want you to have what you need. I just-- I'm not what you need, am I." It's not really a question. The former guard is now aware of the door, enough to rock back onto his heel and close it in front of him. "Oliwer, I'm a murderer." He's used similar words before, and they jarred the healer. G'laer turns now to see if they have this time. "Not just before. Not I was a murderer, I am a murderer. I am a monster. That's not who you want me to be. That's not who she wanted me to be. It's just who I am." And he's the monster between the healer and the door, let's not forget. It's difficult for those sorts of words to not being jarring. Especially for a man who seems to be so good at pretending the bad things about the man he loves just don't exist. Oliwer closes his eyes and his head tilts away with a small shake. When he opens them again, he glances at the door, but doesn't move. He refocuses on G'laer instead. "Then why do you care about what you think we want?" "Because I've never bloody well loved anyone as much as I've loved the two of you." Teisyth surely doesn't count in this 'anyone.' It's a good thing the door is closed or he might have slammed it now. G'laer can't seem to help that his volume actually rises toward a shout. "If you love me so sharding much, why didn't you tell me, G'laer?" Oliwer is definitely not yelling, but his voice has risen a bit over its usual volume. "Because telling you would break me. Has broken me." The greenrider is turning again, but this time he stops himself, one hand on the handle and the other high on the wood itself. "Because I couldn't keep lying to you. Because I can't. And I knew you'd see me. And we'd be over." Are they? Is he making sense? "I'm sorry." He is. Even so, Oliwer might have been more willing to agree that they were over before the murderer thing. As it is, he tries to step around that a little bit more carefully. "Am I really who you want to be with?" Not taking into account that he probably isn't okay being weyrmated to a man who is a self-professed monster. "Yes." G'laer doesn't need thought to provide the answer with commitment to the word. "But that doesn't matter now." This comes a beat later and with resignation. "I'll stay away from the weyr for the next seven, or two, if you'd prefer, so you can do what you need to do in peace." He probably means pack. Really, he'd probably prefer to offer to move out, but a healer doesn't get a weyr to himself, no matter what memories are there or who of a weyrmating wants to make the sacrifice to go. He's giving Oliwer an out. One a sane man would take. For a moment, Oliwer looks like he might argue that that won't be necessary. But he doesn't. He only nods. He probably can't trust himself to say anything, so he swallows and doesn't say anything, watching G'laer with a familiar look of sadness in his eyes. The man doing the giving of the out probably isn't supposed to suddenly whirl away from the door. He isn't supposed to sweep the man getting the out up in his strong arms and kiss him like he'll never get to kiss him again. He isn't supposed to break that kiss with the most fervent profession of his love, "I love you, Oliwer. I've always loved you. I will always love you. You are my weyrmate," which here, means soulmate, means lifemate (in the non-draconic sense), means all those seriously romantic things, "And even when you're not, you will be. You can always come home to me. Always." G'laer isn't supposed to do these things, but he's always been a rule-breaker. And then with a final, briefer, kiss he's letting go and turning to head for the door. He's letting go, because he has to. Not because he wants to. The man getting the out probably isn't supposed to kiss the man giving the out the way that Oliwer does without even thinking about it. He shouldn't be breathless and have tears on his cheeks when the man with the strong arms breaks that kiss and says those words. He shouldn't accept the final kiss, either, but he does. The only thing Oliwer really does right is not saying anything to stop G'laer once the greenrider is turning toward the door. |
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