Logs:Frightening Beyond Imagination
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| RL Date: 3 August, 2013 |
| Who: Leova, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A very pregnant Leova visits bearing a gift for Riahla. There's talk of Leova's pregnant state and R'hin's broken one. |
| Where: Monaco Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 6, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Anvori/Mentions, Via/Mentions, Suireh/Mentions, Riahla/Mentions, Satiet/Mentions, Bristia/Mentions |
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| There's plenty of people -- and dragons -- in the waters of Monaco's shore, enjoying the balmy summer afternoon weather. Further up the beach, rock outcropping is a little too uneven to lie on for sunbathing, so it's completely vacant. Well, aside from a particular bronzerider who's taken to loitering there. With a still-healing split lip and some bruising around his neck, R'hin's probably seen better days -- but then he's definitely seen worse ones, too. He's leaning against some of the rocks, which are serving as a makeshift table for a small bottle of something and a couple of glasses. Leiventh, though he's passed Vrianth's message along, remains coolly distant, watching from somewhere down the beach, where he soaks up the heat of the sand and sun. Vrianth appears out of nothingness, so high that the air is thin and cool, so high that she doesn't bother to announce her arrival. She sinks downward. She's in no hurry. When she does spot Leiventh, the shadow that would pass over him is still a small one. Nor does she linger over that announcement, but rather continues to fly towards the outcropping in question, landing far enough distant that sand doesn't fly up even when she moves to its side. "R'hin." It's not easy for the greenrider to dismount, but she manages with a grunt. Then, when she really looks at the man, "Those look new." Vrianth isn't staying. Her straps buckled back up, Leova in no shape to take them off, she's headed back to the skies to fly, fly, fly. As soon as Leiventh senses Vrianth's presence, R'hin straightens, shadowing his gaze to try and find and track the green's descent. It's a nod for the dragon first -- respectfully wary as always -- and it's to her side that he darts, with the intent of helping to ease Leova's passage to the ground with steady, strong hands, one of which lingers under her arm as he stares at her carefully. "And you look huge," he counters her obvious comment with one of his own, smile changing to something more impertinent, "How did you even... get on Vrianth?" There's a distinct solicitous, however, in the way he's positioning himself for her to rest her weight on if needed, intent on guiding her back towards the rocks. This might be the only openly grateful glance Leova's given R'hin, and she takes that help. Settles on the outcropping. Leans against one of the larger rocks he's directed her to, even. No sitting: sitting would require getting up again. "Not new. Thanks." She gives him a one-cornered smile, too. "Like to think of it as force of will, though I reckon practice helped. And balance. Thought about not coming," but she waves upward. Vrianth, exulting in different skies. Other dragons. Waves to skim along, catching her reflection again and again before once more she soars. Only when she's settled, does R'hin retreat, and that only to reach for the bottle, pouring some of that golden colored liquid into the glasses. "Cider," he says, as he hands her the first, "Non alcoholic. Wouldn't want you fainting from the heat, here." When she gestures up towards Vrianth, he, pointedly, doesn't follow where she points; his gaze instead lingers on her as he eases a foot up onto one of the lower rocks as if easing pressure on it. "Why did you? There are people who could have delivered it for you -- unless it's a sex toy and you're embarrassed?" Does he hope it is? Probably not, it's his daughter. "Mm. Cool," best of all. Leova drinks, deeply. If the reappearance of his usual humor's designed to put her at ease as much as the cider, it's effective. Her glance toward him is dry. "Had better not be a sex toy, is all I'm saying." Otherwise lightly dressed, she has her riding jacket to reach into, to retrieve the leather packet that she tosses his way. It's about the width of one of his hands wide, two long, soft and not heavy. "Can open it if you want. If you don't think it'll scare you." Her amber gaze, it's amused. Before, with a one-shouldered shrug, "Wanted to get out." R'hin, too, sips his cider, but mostly, he's watching the greenrider. He catches the thrown object awkwardly, sidelong -- and while he inspects it, he doesn't open it. Apparently he respects Riahla's privacy... or maybe he's planning to open it out of Leova's view. Setting it on the rock next to the bottle, he says idly, "Did you know," with gaze momentarily skywards, "Suireh is jealous of Via?" His gaze drops just as he finishes that, visibly curious as to her reaction. "No." Low, less uncertain than unresolved. "Guessed she might have been, though. Sometimes." The initial surprise in Leova's expression has faded, amber eyes hooded for a moment before they steady on R'hin. "Surprised she told you, though. Or did you guess?" One hand's moved to the swell of her belly, to one side. She rubs it, a slow scrape. "It was the way she brought Via up," which implies she didn't outright state it, but then R'hin's not one to miss such clues. He reaches for the bottle, leaning closer with it tipped towards her glass in offer. "She'll probably be jealous of this one, too. Doesn't have the... daughter or son of the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader hanging over it, is a lot of why, I think." Leova reaches forward with her glass, though doesn't actually sway herself to lean, and gives him a half-smile for the accommodation. "Might. Reckon this one might be more out of sight, out of mind, 'less that's just my hoping. You watch, Via'll be jealous of her soon enough. journeyman and all, voice and manners and boys trailing behind. Don't reckon that will make it better." A rise of brows, and it's hard to tell whether R'hin deliberately misinterprets that or not: "Is that boor of yours planning to steal him... or her... away to safety in Tillek, too?" But there's cider to be poured and he obliges, though he doesn't refill his own glass before setting the bottle back down. "I haven't seen any boys trailing after her." But then, would she share with her father, if she had them? Perhaps not. Her aunt? Marginally more likely, and that's perhaps why there's a questioning lilt there at the end. Leova eyes him. "Because the Weyr isn't far enough away. That must be it." It does threaten to bring back her smile if she'd only let it, a beat before those amber eyes brighten with something else. Instead, after a longer look, "You wouldn't. Not 'less she wanted you to." It's dry. Less so: "Do you worry about her?" He lets that go, amazingly. Perhaps he's feeling generous, or maybe he's off his game. "Of course I worry," R'hin's answer to that is immediate, honest. "All the time. Every day." A tip of head, as if to say, don't you? Leova's gaze stays level. "Do you worry about what she'll do, when you get yourself or Leiventh beaten up so bad you don't come back?" "No," R'hin's firm on that, too, and neither does he dispute the when, not if. "She hasn't needed her father in a long time." "You can think that." Leova. A long silence. Awkward. R'hin doesn't even try to fill it, just lets it be awkward, looking steadily at the greenrider. Silence. Leova might as well wait forever. Might, if it weren't for the sudden lurch to her belly, a bump protruding beneath the light summer shirt. She doesn't look down, but she pats it with that free hand. She says like she's continuing, like she'd never stopped at all, "R'hin. You have to know, nothing else could fill where you used to be. Not for them. You think you'd join her? Is that it?" He doesn't answer, not that: his expression is pointedly granite, making it clear it's a question he'd never answer. Instead, R'hin reaches out, hand hovering shy of her belly, a question in his gaze. Asking for permission, likely. That can't surprise her. What does: "Yes." Leova doesn't so much withdraw her hand as slide it lower, supporting. Again, that lump of a movement, beneath fabric warm even for Monaco's summer. Silence, like R'hin's listening while he presses his hand against her stomach. The first hint of moment crumbles that granite facade, eyes closing and a faint smile appearing; the second grows it. "Boy or girl?" he wonders what she guesses, gaze flickering up to Leova's. "Either. Both." She's watching him, taking him in, amber eyes somehow tranquil. The pressure of his hand is met by pressure back, a small amount at first and then slightly broader, moving as though to define the contours. Aware. When she talks, he can feel the response, the change in movement, still there but slower, eased. Also, when abruptly Leova smiles, a sort of hiccup. "Not like that. I never did know. But... might be two, they say so, anyhow. Runs both sides of the family, see." The both makes him smirk. "More twins will make our twins jealous." The 'our' seems deliberate. R'hin's hand drops away to tug through his hair, regarding her silently for a few moments more. "Bristia said you came by, after... when Leiventh was injured." Somehow, the bronzerider makes it sound accusing. His voice, and it's met with motion too, off-center on the other side. Leova glances over, rolls her eyes back at him. She sinks further against the stone, then, brushes rusty hair off her forehead. Drinks. "Did," she agrees, attention on her glass. No remorse. Relish, maybe. "She also swears you wrote 'Dumb' on my forehead with a quill pen." A glimmer of amusement in the bronzerider's eyes? Maybe. "Glad your friends can read." There's that one-cornered smile. "Took less space than 'Stupid.'" "The idea of you and Bristia conspiring together is frightening beyond imagination, you know." "Should be. Wish I could call it reassuring." Then, "Glad they let me get a look at him." "He was not happy." R'hin marginally more so? "He rather likes his privacy. But it's appreciated, all the same." He cocks his head, looks at her consideringly, like a question yet to be voiced is in his thoughts. Leova tips her head, acknowledging, then lifts her brows: what? Slowly, R'hin walks left, then right, past her, giving her a careful once over. "Just wondering how in Faranth's name I'm supposed to get you back on Vrianth. Plank-and-lever? Pully system?" He's looking skyward like some answer might shine down on him. She laughs. "Is that all." No Vrianth up in the sky, though Leova does offer back the drained glass. "Reckon we can handle it. Not like you're responsible for anything about me, R'hin." He ignores the comment, although he takes the glass. "Maybe you should just stay here with me. I'm sure the boor won't mind, and the warm weather'll do you good." He doesn't believe it for a second, of course, but he wouldn't be R'hin if he didn't try. "Glad you haven't lost track of your checklist. You know, things to say when we run into each other." Leova, dry. "Makes you feel better, though, I'll ask her to come back. Let you see, we were intact when we left, hm? Let you be on your way." Not Vrianth's chosen solution, not by far, but she'll convince her green to cope. "I could feed you dinner first before sending you on your way. I might even pay this time." The offer seems genuine, R'hin watching for her reaction, before he thinks to add, "Give me time to think about how to hoist you up on Vrianth." She looks distant for a moment, not that she's ever needed that to commune with Vrianth, but then regret touches Leova's expression a moment before a glance over the outcropping confirms it. "Hold that thought? For the next time we need to get away? See, it's easier up high, she can bring her neck right up and I can sit right down." Which," there's that distant look again, "I think I'd better do. Right now." She doesn't even qualify it with 'If you're still around.' There are the wingbeats. Vrianth is coming. He's staying: of course he is, moving further up the rocks to her side to watch Vrianth come in. If he's disappointed it's brief, because there's a merriment that speaks of complicated pregnant-rider-mounting systems being designed in his head. She'll have to settle, today, for R'hin being insistant on helping her. Of course he is. Leova eyes R'hin, refastens her jacket, and gets the job done. It's as uncomplicated a process as she described, just slow. Careful. Balancing. Possibly even slower for his attentiveness, just because. Until, with a two-cornered smile this time, "Be good to Leiventh. And say hello to Bristia for me, will you?" Leiventh, who'll get a staticky pulse of electricity once they're safely on the other side: yes, fine, they're home. "Always, and not on your life," R'hin answers her comments, respectively. Vrianth, at least, gets a nod of farewell, the bronzerider bending to collect bottle and glasses before starting to walk up the beach: he doesn't stay to watch Vrianth take off. Perhaps because of the slight, cold wind that seeps around the green, watching from afar. After they've gone, that cold, icy wind lingers: maybe Leiventh's curious to see how well she gets down this time, too. Then finally, that recedes, too. |
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