Logs:Do You Have to Go?
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| RL Date: 16 October, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Oliwer, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Oliwer is packing up. Teisyth has questions. Secrets are spilled. |
| Where: Bookworm's Paradise Weyr (No one's?), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Angst. A lot of it. Back-dated. |
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| It's another day or so before Oliwer comes back to High Reaches. He had a short trip to the weyr he shared with G'laer to pick up a handful of things he'd need, but he didn't come to do more serious packing until a few days after that. His chair is sitting just outside of the inner weyr, ready to be picked up by his help once he's ready to back everything onto a dragon. Oliwer is inside, trying very hard to pack more than he lets his emotions overwhelm him. « Do you really have to go? » Teisyth's loud and whiney whisper comes suddenly, daring to reach for him despite G'laer's instructions not to. Then there's the familiar sound of her landing on the ledge and should Oliwer appear, he'll find her nosing the chair gently. The voice, however familiar it's become to him, is jarring enough to make Oliwer startle. Not enough to make him swear to himself. That would probably take Teisyth's rider. "I do, dearheart. I'm sorry," is what the healer says when he does appear. His eyes are red but at least there are no tears right now. « Why? » Her voice is very small, suddenly, a strange contrast to her size and bulk. She hunkers down, putting her nose on the ground, looking up at him. Teisyth, so sad. « Don't you love us anymore? » No tears, no tears. Oliwer isn't very good at keeping himself from crying over emotional things, but maybe he's all out of tears right now. The warm smile he offers the green is sad, too, but he's trying to put on a brave face for her sake. "Of course I love you, Teisyth. I love G'laer, too. But we aren't right for each other. I make him unhappy." « NO! » Her sudden denial is painful. G'laer can't have missed that wherever he is, so the next comes out in a rush, before he can forbid her, before he can make her go. « You're wrong, Oli! You made him happy. He never knew happy that way. Not until you. » But then she is losing the battle he cannot see. She throws her head in the air like a runner fighting her reins. And then she's staggering back a step, knocking some of the belongings he'd packed as she stumbles to the edge of the ledge and falls, catching herself on unfurled wings in the moments that follow and gliding up and up and up and up and -- will she ever stop going? Will she ever come down when there's no home to come back to? Oliwer stares at the green with wide, pain-filled eyes. He's apparently not out of tears, because they're coming again once she's gone. "I'm sorry," he says, again, even though she's somewhere up in the sky now. It's a few minutes before he can pull himself together enough to go back inside to continue his packing. The next dragon touching down, not more than fifteen minutes later, is not Teisyth, but a blue assigned to elevator duty and the G'laer getting off of him is sweaty and hastily dressed. He must have been getting in an extra workout when Teisyth made her move; that kind of thing would be sufficiently distracting to the man. "Oliwer?!" He calls, baritone not hiding any of his concern as he comes into the weyr at a sprint. The healer, maybe too distracted to hear the elevator dragon dropping off its passenger, spins around at the sound of his name in that other, even more familiar, voice. "G'laer?" Oliwer returns, uncertain more than concerned, lifting a hand to wipe at his eyes now that he's not alone. "Is she... is she okay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset her." G'laer doesn't stop until he's in front of Oliwer, in his space, his hands finding the healer's face; his protective instincts may be a little in overdrive. Rather than answer any of the healer's questions, the rider demands, "Are you alright?" Oliwer is too surprised at first to do anything but stand there. Once he's got his wits about him again, though, he lifts his hands to push the greenrider's away. "I'm fine. She wouldn't hurt me." Just like her rider? The greenrider lets his hands be pushed away. It takes him a moment but he steps back away from the healer. "Okay." He stares hard at the healer for a moment, as if he might see some telltale sign of any hurt he's hiding. Then he turns and forces himself to walk back to the ledge. The only hurt Oliwer is hiding are things that they've caused between the two of them. Teisyth might have helped make those things more raw, but that's not her fault. "You don't have to leave, G'laer. This is your weyr. I don't think I'll be much longer, anyway." One good thing about not being the sort of man that gathers a lot of junk. "I can't stay," though it stops G'laer from leaving just at this moment; he doesn't turn back. "I'm putting in for a new weyr." "What? Why?" This is surprising news to Oliwer even though it's probably familiar. G'laer completely avoided the weyr the last time they were having issues, too. "I don't like the idea of you leaving the weyr, Gal. You belong here." The greenrider sighs and turns back, folding his arms loosely across his chest. "It's our weyr, Oli. It's not home without you." He tries to keep it simple, but briefly, his expression betrays the depth of his pain before the mask is forced back into place. Oliwer reflects the pain he sees openly. It's a couple of moments before he's moving to close the distance between himself and the greenrider and, if he manages to get all the way, he tries to wrap his arms around his weyrmate. Ex weyrmate? It's hard to keep these things in mind when one is so torn about leaving at all. G'laer is stiff, but he shifts to put his arms around the healer. "We can't keep doing this, Oliwer." This comes after some moments. Whatever that means. "We won't," says Oliwer, tucking himself in against the other man and breathing in deeply. G'laer being sweaty only encourages that urge. "She said you're happy when we're us." So he doesn't really understand why the greenrider rarely seems like it. "I am," G'laer confirms tilting his head to let his cheek rest on Oliwer's head. "I just wish being me wasn't meaning always letting you down." He says it quietly, but it sounds earnest. "I'm tired of pretending to be someone else so you'll love me." And he sounds it, tired. Oliwer relaxes slightly when G'laer's cheek tilts against his head. This is where he likes to be. This is where he feels safe, despite the fact that what the greenrider is capable of terrifies him. "You don't let me down. I just... I don't know how to deal with it. It goes against everything I know. But I love you no matter what." "I can't make it easy on you." He can't pretend anymore. "So loving you, now, means letting you be happy," which presumably is meant in a long-term sense since this doesn't seem to make either of them very happy right now. "I know you can't. You shouldn't have to." It's clearly Oliwer's problem that he has an issue with G'laer being a murderer, not G'laer's. "You'll be happier without me. I know you will. In time, it will be better for both of us." Which definitely doesn't make it easy now. Nope, not easy now. G'laer's breath brings a shudder and he lets go of the healer. "I have to go." He waits, though, for the healer to release him. Oliwer isn't going to let go right away. He doesn't want G'laer to leave yet. He doesn't want G'laer to leave enough that he asks, "Will you take me one last time?" Theoretically. "It doesn't have to be now. Please?" G'laer doesn't move. "If I did, I'd never be able to let you go." The greenriders tone is mostly apologetic but also just a little bit wistful. "I don't want you for just a moment, Oli. I want you forever." But they've been over that, haven't they? It would be easier for Oliwer to let go of G'laer if there wasn't something about that that was appealing to him. Probably part of the same something that he tries so hard to keep hidden from his life away from the Weyr. In the end, he does draw himself away from G'laer, though, stepping back and crossing his arms over himself, gaze shifted down and away from looking at the greenrider. He can leave in peace now. "Goodbye, Oli." The words are very final sounding, and G'laer is ducking his head quickly and just as swiftly making tracks out to the ledge where Teisyth has, indeed, returned however briefly to get her rider before the pair vanish together. Oli surely won't mind that G'laer's trio (which, yes, includes the useless green) of firelizards remain perched (almost) inconspicuously on the mantle to watch the healer. Oliwer doesn't return the sentiment, too scared to let himself say anything at all. He glances up when G'laer leaves, though. It's some time after that before he can get back to anything that might be considered productive again, but any trace of him is gone from the weyr once he finally leaves. |
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