Logs:Happy
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| RL Date: 1 August, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The newly appointed Weyrleaders of High Reaches take a moment, or several, to enjoy themselves after the flight. |
| Where: Hraedhyth and Azaylia's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 5, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
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| Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Accessed via a narrow staircase from the Weyrleader's Complex, or from the broad, sunny ledge beyond, this weyr was clearly designed to be for one of the weyr's junior queens. Spacious, but not extravagant, it boasts a well-sized outer room, narrowing in front the well-sized dragon couch and ledge beyond. Much of this main room has been turned over to a couch and several chairs, which circle the hearth and the blue rug set down in front of it. There's a low table here, too, set in the middle of that rug. A tack-cupboard stands tidily behind the couch, keeping out of sight a rider's paraphernalia. Three low steps lead up onto a peculiar little landing, just large enough for the brand new desk and set of shelves that have been placed there. Here, too, there are definite pointers to the lived-in state of the weyr: the desk could in no way be described as tidy. Behind the desk, a narrow passage leads in an inner set of chambers, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area. A decent-sized bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows and comforter. There's a nightstand on either side, and against one of the other walls, a tall, heavy wardrobe made from a dark wood that matches the bed. The bathing area is part of the same cavern, a folding screen shielding the toilet and slightly raised, double-sized bathtub built into the stone, and a small shelf to hold toiletries. Unusually, the walls, ceiling and floor of this weyr have all been whitewashed thickly, covering the natural stone. The hearth is brand new, too, as are most of the built-in fittings, as though they have recently needed to be replaced.
Tsanth is more than glad to claim his spot on her ledge, tucking his smaller form into place near to her. His wings carefully arranged as he settles in to watch as night sinks in across the weyr. His weyr. Their weyr. Inside, his rider remains there on the floor, not having moved all that much since they finished. It's now when she sighs happily that he stretches his arms and envelopes her in them to tug her closer, the after effects of closeness haven't quite worn off for him yet. Or else he's just always this possessively touchy in bed afterwards, it's hard to tell without something to measure it against. "Happy?" He asks quietly in that darkness. Once the bronze is comfortable, Hraedhyth dares to impose by snuggling tightly against him, thankfully without much force. Her energy has already been put to better use. Unintentionally mirroring his rider, the queen's tail drapes possessively over Tsanth's, nudging at his 'knobs once before she lowers her head to rest on her forelimbs. Any reservations Azaylia has about snuggling is likely for Z'ian's sake, disappearing as he pulls her closer. Hand on his shoulder, leg wrapping around his closest, she tucks into the crook of his neck with a smile he may be able to feel against his skin. "I am." Tired muscles flex, pressing even closer as she wonders, "If... you are? We're happy. Should I be happy for you, too..?" Concern, a polite amount, as it doesn't sound as if she has enough in her to properly fret. The bronze is more than happy to remain physically close to his mate. It seems that whatever reservations he'd developed about her previously have faded away into a very, very distant memory. Meanwhile, his rider clearly doesn't seem to need Azaylia to hold back in reservation about anything for him. There's no hesitation from him when she presses more closely into his embrace. "I am happy." He confirms for her, tipping his chin down and brushing his lips over the top of her forehead. "I think that we're going to work well together." At her question, he laughs quietly against her. "If you want to be. But we're capable of supplying our own happiness, don't worry." Azaylia tilts her chin down, certainly not shy about their state of undress now, but at what he says. "I just thought... It'd be alright if you weren't." But he is, and his laugh inspires one of her own, breath tickling across his throat. As for their working well together, "We have, before." The feel of his lips at her brow coaxes her to peek upwards, shifting just enough so that she can make out Z'ian's profile in the dark. Her grip on him lessens, hand trailing from shoulder to explore what she can't see with no intention other than to enjoy him while it lasts. "Weyrleader Z'ian." She tests with a gentle murmur, sounding pleased. "I know it's important but..." It can be important later. Hraedhyth's pride is self contained, for now, her hazy fire's focus aimed at warming Tsanth from within with her honest adulation. After all, he caught her. There's a low sound deep within his throat, one that's more thoughtful then it is any sort of unhappy groan. "I knew what we were doing when we came into this flight. It wasn't just him that wanted it, I did too." Z'ian confesses, seemingly glad to have said it outloud to someone. And who better than Azaylia, really? She's the one it's going to be the most important to. His body tenses, a quick shudder when her hand begins to trail. The leftover effects of the flight they were just in, no doubt. "Weyrwoman Azaylia. We can begin to tackle everything tomorrow, when the morning is fresh." He figures, tracing his fingertips down and to the small of her back. It doesn't seem like she does, but he asks the next anyway. "Do you need us to go tonight?" "I'm glad." Not just that he wanted it, but, "That it was you. That the Weyr will have leaders who want to lead." To try and set things right. Her words carry a faint trace of heat, fading away as Azaylia settles into a comfortable silence. His shudder has her smile twisting into something vaguely devious, teeth sinking into her lower lip to instill some restraint. She gives a happy hum at her new title, or it could be the brush of his fingertips along her back. "I was hoping you wouldn't..." The Weyrwoman admits, shameless. Propping herself with an elbow, she looks down at him with that previously hidden smile, "I want to keep you a little bit longer." As if to sweeten the deal, "I have a bath..." "The weyr council won't be breathing down our necks either. That will set at least a couple of minds at ease." He murmurs quietly into the dark, even if they are alone. His voice isn't loud. At her admittance, he slowly pushes himself up on his elbows, adjusting his arms and hands to keep contact with her even as they move around. "I was hoping that you wouldn't want us to leave, not just yet anyway." Z'ian meets that smile, his own crooked and somewhat rakish as he glances past her in the dim light to where the bath probably is. "You can keep me as long as you want tonight." Because this isn't the sort of situation that you rush out of, at least not if you're him. And apparently not if you're Azaylia. Mention of the weyr council has Azaylia's eyes trailing to the side, internal monologue escaping in a quiet mumble, "...can't make us leave." It's when Z'ian begins to shift that her focus snaps back, hazy trouble fading from her gaze as her smile returns. "I want to enjoy my Weyrleader," Her claim on him is playful, carrying no real weight, "Until I have to share you with the rest of the Weyr." In fact, she's giving a breathy laugh at her own words, "Sorry... Hraedhyth." As if that explains it, bare skin brushing against his as she begins to untangle herself to stand on unsteady legs. She'll wait for him, hand offered not only to help him up, but to lead the bronzerider further into her weyr. "You know," Z'ian trails one finger down her arm when she moves to stand. "I don't just disappear after tonight and the only places you're allowed to see me are in public. I can come back here again." Just in case she was wondering what happens after he leaves the weyr later on. But once she's up, he takes that offered hand and gets to his feet as well (even though he totally doesn't need the help). She can begin to lead them backwards, but it won't be long before he's drawing her against him again. The bronzerider is insistent, keeping that heated contact up all the way until she brings them to her bath. And well beyond that. "I didn't know if I could ask..." But it was obviously on her mind, as well as a variety of other things. Some of which Azaylia is more than willing to share with him, though it has little to do with actual words. Dragon's influence will eventually fade without notice on her part, no longer needed as the night lasts as long as they wish. In the morning there'll be a somewhat generous breakfast waiting in the living cavern of her weyr, mostly untouched by a certain brown firelizard. Z'ian will try to not curse the existence of firelizards. Too much. Don, the firelizard, won't try to make an example out of Z'ian. Forgetaboutit. |
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