Logs:Helping And Hope
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| RL Date: 25 February, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del stops by to offer his services, as well as a shoulder to cry on. Azaylia reciprocates. |
| Where: Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 2, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Barnabas/Mentions, Brieli/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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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. It's been a couple of days since Brieli's big announcement, and although mention of the fact that K'del was looking for Azaylia may have reached the goldrider's ears, he's been scarce since. This morning, however, there's the sound of footsteps outside, and a rattle of warning chains from Cadejoth towards the broody queen, and then: K'del's voice, just outside. "Azaylia?" It's low and constrained, all emotions reigned in leaving him sounding professionally distant, much as his expression is: that mask of formality. "May I come in?" Broody. With Brood. The warrior queen is beginning to doze after putting so much ferocious energy into staying vigilant. Hraedhyth has enough left in her to warm Cadejoth's chains, hazy familiarity saving him from something much worse. "Of course." Azaylia's tired reply is somewhat muffled, walking out from her private chambers with a towel rubbing at her damp hair. Freshly scrubbed, her comforting old dress is also laundered, not that it does much to help the old thing. She hasn't gotten to the leggings yet, bare feet smacking against cool stone only to be quieted by her rug, "Is there something you need?" Not quite sounding eager, the young woman is perhaps looking to be useful to the unnervingly distant bronzerider. Cadejoth sends a flickering spark back to Hraedhyth: his thanks, but also his promise of vigilance, albeit from high above the Weyr, where he can look down on (not quite) all. But he will retreat, now, and leave her to her rest. It's only polite. K'del steps over the threshold into the weyr with only a brief moment of hesitation, his chin lifting as he attempts to meet Azaylia's gaze. "Mostly," he says, unwinding his scarf with careful, deliberate movements, "wanted to see how you were doing. Wanted to see if I could do something for you, not the other way 'round. How're you holding up?" He's being surprisingly cautious, skirting around the issue that must, surely, be at hand, though his expression is searching. It is good to be guarded on all sides. Hraedhyth will let as much be known while steady drums slow once she succumbs to sleep. Once most of the water is squeezed from her wavy locks, Azaylia straightens to let her hair air dry. Her hearth is alive with a grand fire, the main chamber offering warmth to combat the snow outside. Azaylia offers a similar expression, carefully numb, though unlike the bronzerider hers is accidental. "I... for me?" Surprise, with a touch of confusion. His question has her hands tightening on the drying cloth, short of wringing it, "I... can't believe they..." With a careful breath, "I am. I just am." Holding up is all she can do, or so it feels like. K'del is careful to shake the snow off of his boots before stepping any further into Azaylia's space, and does so without taking his gaze off of her. His wince is obvious, and so is the tight line of his expression, after it, the one that wars with emotions he's trying so hard not to let escape entirely. "Can't believe they did either," he says, just quietly, as he takes that next step forward. "And-- Bones reminded me, a little while back, that you need my support. Whatever you need from me, you have it. Okay? Moral support, emotional support... if you want me to back off, I'll do that too. I won't move against you, not in any way." Way to just throw it all out there, K'del. "Want to help you be the best leader you can be, eventually. If you want me to." "I... don't know what to feel." Azaylia blurts, hands dropping to her side, cloth stil hanging from one. "I don't know if I f-feel anything." Her gaze lowers to the bits of snow K'del is trying not to track in, the goldrider comfortable in her silence. Mention of Bones has her looking back at him, his words coaxing a fresh glint of pain to wet her vision. The towel is left behind as quick strides have her in front of K'del, wrapping her arms around his torso in a crushing embrace. "Don't say that." She finally demands in a whimper. "I'm not. I'm not. And I'm just going to let you down." 'You' carries far too much weight to mean just the bronzerider. Luckily, K'del has enough time to register Azaylia's intent, and to keep his arms free from her grasp, so that he can wrap them around her in response. "You are," he says, quietly, his head lowered so that he speaks almost directly into her ear, just a little more than a whisper. "You're amazing, Azaylia, and I won't for a second let you think otherwise. There's ruling through fear, and that's one way to do it, but there's also ruling through love, and for me, that's the better one. You can do this. You do. You are." K'del runs the risk of damp hair clinging to his face as Azaylia shakes her head into his shoulder. There aren't many tears, but they're there. "Can't. M'not strong enough. It's... doing things to me." Her fingers curl, clutching at his back as she squeezes even harder than before. "I hurt people. I don't mean to. I can't stop." The goldrider suddenly releases him, though there's no effort to step away as she breathes out, "I'm doing it again." Resuming her embrace, it's a more thoughtful hug as she pulls her head back to look up at him, "How are you doing?" With tight voice insistent, it's obvious what she considers priority. Wet hair doesn't seem to bother K'del - nor do tears. He's probably immune to tears, now, given the amount he has spilled. "No," he says. "No, no. Azaylia. Zay." There can be as many hugs, of as many different varieties, as she likes: he'll accept them all, unhesitatingly. "Frankly, seems more like people are hurting you than the other way 'round, at the moment. I'm-- fine." Liar. But he's putting on a brave face. "No, seriously. All of this-- I'm more concerned about you." "Liar." Azaylia mumbles, just enough of a compassionate tilt to her head to keep it from being a serious accusation. "I'm... doing better." She's had several days to process the announcement, one that visibly startled her at breakfast. Otherwise, with no contest from either she or Hraedhyth, they've kept the appearance of a united front. "It doesn't matter, not really." She begins to step back, palms follow along his arms in order to find his hands and lead him towards the couch. "I mean, what happens to me." Before he can argue as she would, "It's done. I don't like it. But we can't just... Some people need the stability. It would be cruel to just take it away because we're not happy." It's an accusation that K'del accepts, acknowledging it with a forward tilt of his head and a rueful smile, though he makes no move to respond verbally; instead, he lets his hands be taken, lets himself to be led to the couch. There, folded into a seat, he exhales, long and hard. "Maybe," he agrees. It's not the kind of admission he would have made even as little as a few days ago. "It's just-- you can't just take this thing like that. It bothers me. The injustice of it. You, and H'kon, and--" He breaks off, studying Azaylia again. "What if it starts going badly? Would you step in if-- if they were actively hurting the Weyr?" Azaylia is too distracted to be a decent hostess, no offer of klah made as she moves to sit next to him. Nervous hands tug patched skirt to its limit over bent leg, the other hanging off the couch as she faces K'del. "What am I, was I, supposed to do?" An honest question, looking to the bronzerider with open curiosity. H'kon's name has her giving a visible flinch, eyes closing tight to allow the familiar guilt to wash over her. "If they were hurting the Weyr." She murmurs, eyes finally opening to stare at the man with a hint of her dragon's intensity. "I would do everything I could to make things right." Her conviction wavers, "Would that be selfish? What if I hurt her? Them?" Given that their new Acting pair are both women. K'del's head shakes: he doesn't know. If nothing else, it seems as though the past few days have given him perspective. He doesn't wilt under the intensity of her stare, nor as her conviction wavers. Instead, very quietly: "Azaylia. If they were hurting the Weyr, I think you'd be doing more harm not to speak up. And-- look, it's not like I hope it'll come to that. Honestly. I hope they both have not only good intentions, but good follow-through. I do. If this works out for the best, then that's good." He doesn't seem to believe it will, though: that much is written out across his expression, showing itself unbidden. "It's obvious fighting this is not right for you right now. But I do want to help. Build up your confidence, help you-- grow into all of this. You never got that chance, and I'm sorry for it." This time, Azaylia makes no argument in regards to what K'del is saying and how he really feels. "I hope they do." Her own expression is torn, optimistic and in pain because of it, "I know you don't like her, but Taikrin's trying so hard. She's there for me." No attempts are made to change his opinion on the brownrider, though her gaze flicks away for just saying that much. "Is that such a good idea?" Building her confidence. Fingers fidget with the edge of her dress, a few breaths taken before a sudden whimper, "WhydidyougetridofTiriana?" Nothing has surprised K'del about how this conversation has gone, until that: that reference to Tiriana. His brows furrow, knitting tightly as he presumably attempts to work out what her reasoning is. Then - abruptly, he reaches out to grab for her hand, to squeeze it, if he can. "Because I had to. Because there were no options left. She was erratic, selfish, irresponsible. She used her power to hurt people, to get her own way. I tried to mediate it. To fix the problems. She refused to listen. But it's not going to happen again. Brieli's safe from the council, I promise." Even with winter-paled complexion, there's no flush to accompany Azaylia's mortified expression. She returns the squeeze with one of her own, though her grip is much weaker. "Because she hurt people. And was selfish." There are forceful blinks, keeping fresh tears at bay as she plows forward, "Did she always... your arm? Did she do that a lot?" The once-apprentice hadn't had many run ins with Tiriana, and judging from what she's heard it was for the best. "I... oh, yes. Brieli. I... good." Guilt for her thoughtlessness has her looking down at their hands. K'del reaches out his other hand, so that he can hold Azaylia's within both of his at once, solidly present. "She-- had a reputation for violence, yes. Casual violence. She broke V'teri's back," he recalls, after a moment. "She wasn't-- stable. What happened was necessary, and I don't regret it for a moment, but it's nothing something you need to worry about being repeated. What's-- where's all this coming from, Azaylia? You're safe, here. No one's going to send either of you away; you both belong here." Whether he likes it or not, in some cases. "You're going to be a wonderful Weyrwoman, some day." He puts only a subtle emphasis on the 'w', though it is very definitely Weyrwoman and not weyrwoman. "You do important work. Already. Brieli doesn't run this weyr alone; she can't. No one could." Azaylia doesn't mean to tear her hands away from his, but sne needs them in order to cover her mouth in quiet horror. "Sh-she..!?" The goldrider looks ill. When he asks after her worries, she can only shudder and give a shake of her head. Finally, "I... hit someone." A silent plea in her eyes, begging him not to ask for the specifics. "I get angry, sometimes. That makes Hraedhyth angry, and everyone always blames her but it's me." The horror is still carried in her whisper, voice falling away as her throat squeezes in on itself. "I hurt the weyr." She repeats. Hands come together in front of her lips, one squeezing the other as she does her best to regain her composure. "I don't feel like I-- there isn't a lot for me to do." Or if there is, it isn't brought to her attention. "Please. People say that, and it just... Even if it's true," Not that she's confident in her abilities. Surprise surprise. "We need a Weyrwoman now. And I hope... that p-people are wrong. That I'm wrong, and she is that Weyrwoman." If it's a lie, the young woman doesn't mean it to be. K'del releases her hands without fighting it, but he doesn't look horrified for the admission. "Hey," he says, gently, as soon as she's finished speaking. "I get angry, sometimes, too. We all do. You are not like Tiriana. Not even a little bit. You're allowed to get angry. And you don't hurt the Weyr." He presses his hands flat down upon his knees, fingertips touching each other, and gives her an earnest look. "Pretty sure I hope that, too," he says, then. "You're not wrong. Brieli's doing surprisingly well for someone with as little training as she has, as little experience as she has. Be better for the Weyr, if I'm wrong. If you're wrong. But if we're not... that's why I want to help you. And because there's no guarantee that Iesaryth will rise first. We need to help you be the Weyrwoman you can be." Protip: He doesn't think he's wrong. "But Hreadhyth--" Azaylia tries, giving up once she realizes she's using another's argument. The goldrider simply accepts the bronzerider's words with a soft nod, though there's no guarantee that she agrees with him. There's another dip to her head, this one following after the hypothetical: what if they're right? "O-okay." Her hands lower, gripping a knee that's hidden by her dress. She doesn't mean to mimic him. "I understand why you want to do this. Want me to try." It's some improvement. "And even if Hraedhyth isn't the first to rise," A possibility that has been lost on her, with the way those eyes widen. "If... if I get better, then maybe Brieli won't hate me anymore. Maybe she'll let me help, again." Now, K'del frowns. "She's not letting you help at all? She's trying to run a whole Weyr on her own?" His disbelief is audible, not to mention written across his face. "You can't let her do that. I mean-- no, I know. But we need to make sure, for her sake as well as yours, that that doesn't continue. She--" He hesitates, glancing towards the hearth for several long seconds before attempting to meet her gaze again. "She offered me the Acting Weyrleader position. I feel like I need to tell you that. I refused, obviously. Not going to do things underhandedly like that, not now and not ever. Especially not when I don't trust her motivations. But I've got your back. And you'll see: we will make sure you're ready, in case it is you. And because you're a Junior Weyrwoman of High Reaches Weyr, and that means something." Azaylia chews on her lower lip, "I don't know. I... the lower caverns have stopped coming to me, anyway." She's clearly unsure as to whether that is the other weyrwoman's doing. Lack of communication will do that. Her own worries are dropped in an instant, eyes snapping to K'del's face, a quick scan of the truth causing them to widen further. "K'del." So much in just his name, a glimpse at the turmoil she's feeling within. "Why would you..? You could have... K'del." A hand lifts to run through drying hair, fingers fighting tangles that have taken advantage of her distraction. "I'm mad you didn't accept." Not that she sounds it, admitting in the same breath, "I'd be upset if you did." She's at least that self aware. "Why would she..? You didn't accept. Because you don't trust her. Because she lied. Not for me." Her stare doesn't waver: right? That reaction makes K'del wince, just for a moment, before he straightens his expression again, now determined-- focused. "For a lot of reasons," he says. "It'll be my fault, if Taikrin goes off the deep end with this. I'll own that. But I couldn't, Azaylia. Couldn't do that to you, couldn't do it to myself. Couldn't do it to the Weyr. I don't trust her, and I don't trust her motivations for offering it. Didn't think she was just going to... give it to Taikrin." He swallows, the sound of it audible in the mostly-quiet room. "It's going to be okay. I promise." Now it's Azaylia's turn to squeeze his hand, meant to be comforting as she takes some of the responsibility onto herself. "If things don't work out, it'll also be my fault. I want Taikrin to be a good Weyrleader." It's here where their opinions divide, and at least the brownrider has her support. "If the Weyr doesn't give her a chance, that's like saying catching a gold doesn't mean anything. Bronze is right, but I'm hoping brown can be, too." With perhaps warped views voiced, the young woman's face softens as her other hand finds K'del's shoulder. "I hope so. I... it's the same for you, you know. If you need my help, or want to cry or yell about something. You're always welcome." She pulls back, embarrassed to be offering anyone help in the state she's in. K'del accepts that squeeze, nodding, though he's also quick to say, "I know you feel that way. I'm sorry-- I do have to keep pushing on that. The wings don't... she's already throwing her weight around, far as I can see. It's not that she's a brownrider, Azaylia." Although that's certainly part of it. He doesn't explain the rest of it, which is, must be, pretty obvious, at this point. "The point is... no, it won't be your fault. Brieli chose her. She didn't have to." He reaches to pull her hand back towards him, as she pulls it away, giving her a crooked smile. "Thanks," he says, quietly - genuinely. "In the meantime... I'll impart all the knowledge I have to you, promise. All the little things. We'll... get you up to scratch. We've got some time, after all. Could be turns before either of them rise again." Surprise gives in to a weak curl of her lips, Azaylia relinquishing her hand as he pulls it back, "I'll listen. I'll try." It's all the goldrider can promise to do. She leaves the subject of Taikrin alone, glad to not have soured their conversation with what she's said so far. "I hope it's enough time." Self deprecation comes easily, not even realizing she's doing it. Her lip is released after a quick nibble, "Do you have somewhere to be? Or can you stay for a cup of klah?" Now she thinks to offer him some. K'del gives her a meaningful glance, evidently intended to remark upon her self-deprecation. "It's plenty of time," he promises, squarely. "And the first thing we'll work on is your self-confidence. Do you really think so little of your own abilities?" It seems to be largely a rhetorical question, because he doesn't linger on it, or even really give her time to respond before he's saying, "I'm as free as a bird, these days. I can stay for klah." With no time to respond, all Azaylia can do is give a whimpering squeak that sounds like an affirmative. Yes she really does. She finds her voice, "Good. I had cake, a few days ago but..." Given how many ravenous souls have passed through her weyr. "It got eaten." One last squeeze to his hand and she's up, moving towards the hearth to get a pot boiling. She'll accept what advice he might have for her, though the bronzerider will have to tolerate soft inquiries as to Cadejoth, his boys, and his own well being. |
Comments
Brieli (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 26 Feb 2013 05:50:54 GMT.
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Sad. :( But nice to see K'del be there for Azaylia.
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