Logs:Hostages
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| RL Date: 6 June, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Oliwer |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After G'laer's day with Jadzia and Alida, and Oliwer's with Tayte, it's time to face the music. Why? Because Teisyth is holding them hostage until they do. |
| Where: Bookworm's Paradise Weyr (G'laer & Oliwer's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 12, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Jadzia/Mentions, Laghnei/Mentions, Tayte/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Angst! |
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| Bookworm's Paradise Weyr, High Reaches Weyr In clear weather, sun dapples the floor of the southward-facing weyr and reflects prisms of light from the fine glass that fronts wall after wall of neatly carved bookshelves. Empty now, but for a few volumes tucked up on a shelf, clearly this weyr is a bookworm's delight, all ready to welcome someone's collection of scrolls and finely bound volumes. The living space here has been sacrificed somewhat, cozy rather than spacious. There's enough room for a table and chairs in front of a hearth overhung with a precious maple-stained skybroom mantle, but the sleeping area is another nook carved into the wall, neatly laid with a comfortable double mattress. The linens are presumably stored in the lovely trunk set just to the side of the nook, a match in stain and wood-type to the mantle. Niches for glows are well-spaced along the tops of every shelf, the glow-holders made of interlacing strips of copper set with mica to give the light a mellow cast. All in all the space invites one to come in, curl up with a favorite drink and a book to read. After doing a rather impressive job of completely and deliberately avoiding G'laer the entire morning and afternoon after the flight, Oliwer returns to their weyr that evening, not long before they usually go to bed. At least when Oliwer hasn't been working through the night. Without a word, the freshly-bathed healer, hair still damp and everything, offers an almost typical smile to the greenrider, perhaps slightly more forced than usual, even passing to give the man a brief kiss before he's trying to move on like he'll just go about his usual pre-bed routine. Teisyth isn't on the ledge or G'laer might've been quicker. As was, the sound of a dragon landing on the ledge has him coming away from whatever had been occupying him within and toward the mouth of the inner weyr. He stops when he sees the healer and tracks him, observes the smile and takes in the kiss. It's not until Oli's trying to move on that G'laer's hand finds the older man's arm. "Oli," it's not quite stern, because there's nerves there in his voice. "You had me worried." Followed a moment later by, "I looked for you this morning, and this afternoon." By evening he must have either given up or maybe possibly become stranded on his ledge by a green Who Shall Not Be Named. Less promising is the way he says, "We need to talk." With G'laer's hand at his arm, Oliwer stops and looks at the greenrider, searching his face for a moment before his gaze shifts further into the weyr. "Everything's fine, G'laer." He doesn't say in so many words that there's nothing for them to talk about, but it's suggested pretty plainly in the way he says the three words that he does. "No, it's not." G'laer answers, his grip tightening just a little (not painfully, but for emphasis). "There's really no point in debating that, though, because Teisyth's taken it into her head that she'll not be coming back to the ledge or communicating messages out from us for rides away from it until we've talked. So unless you want to wait for her to forget or for someone to happen by, we'd better just do it." Sometimes, the green does know how to get her way, even against as strong a personality as G'laer's. "Something happened today. During the flight." That G'laer might not have mentioned were it not for Teisyth's sense of right and wrong forcing his hand. His literal hand drops away from the man's arm and his look is intense as he seeks Oliwer's eyes. Oliwer's gaze turns down to the hand on his arm but he doesn't look at G'laer himself except for the moment after he's released. Then the healer is turning to continue on his way into the weyr. "I know," he says so mildly that it's surely a cover for stronger feelings. "I saw you. In the baths. And I don't want to talk about it." G'laer's eyes follow him. There's a surprised exhale and then silence before footsteps are following. "What did you see?" It might be an intelligent question or a cheater trying to cover his tracks. "It doesn't matter," says Oliwer with an uncharacteristically raised voice as he opens a drawer. He just stares at it, though, like he's forgotten what he opened it for. "Nobody was using their best judgment. I think it's better if we just forget about it and move on, hmm?" What was he looking for in here? Oliwer finally pulls out clean night clothes and turns to the bed after closing the drawer again. It makes it easy to continue not looking at G'laer. "What part of 'we're being held hostage by my crazy dragon until we talk' isn't clear?" G'laer's answering tone is a little harsh. It might be defensiveness, or it might be annoyance. He forces himself to a calm tone. "It was the woman from Crom." The one he spoke of before. "It was wrong. I shouldn't have kissed her. I'm sorry, Oli." This at least sounds earnest. Oliwer doesn't comment on the dragon, perhaps not taking the threat very seriously or willing to wait until he actually has to leave the weyr to make anything of it. Either way, the rest of G'laer's words have a chance to sink in as the healer is pulling off his shirt to replace it with the clean one. "Kissed her?" he says like he doesn't believe that's all that could have possibly happened. "Yes." The word is emphatic. "I should've pushed her away and not let her straddle me." Or something. "I should've stopped it all before it started. I'm sorry, Oli." Again. The greenrider moves behind him and reaches to touch his shoulder lightly. This time when G'laer touches him, Oliwer shifts just away from it as he turns to face the greenrider and meet his gaze. Except his expression is strange. He looks pale, like he's just gotten bad new instead of comparatively good. After a few moments, Oliwer doesn't say anything, but he does need to sit down on the edge of the bed. What's a man to think? Well, G'laer apparently thinks this is going badly. He watches Oliwer go to sit, takes a knee in front of him and wraps both of his hands around one of the healer's, pressing his lips to the knuckles. "Oli, please. I love you." This is definitely not how G'laer wanted to tell Oli that for the first time, but what do you do when you feel like you have a losing hand? Play all the cards you've got and hope one of them wins. "I kissed her when she kissed me. I didn't stop her from touching me, and I should have. But I told her I couldn't. I sent her away in tears," And here he looks a little torn, because that wasn't easy. "I only want you." If G'laer doesn't know what to think then, he's definitely not going to know what to think now. "Don't. Please. Don't say that. Not now." Oliwer tries to pull his hand out of the greenriders' and he looks up, away, but it's not enough to hide the tears in his eyes, or the ragged breath he inhales in an attempt to control them. Not even a little. But contrary to popular belief, G'laer does have an imagination and it is doing its worst just now (or so he probably thinks). The hand isn't kept against Oliwer's will, but G'laer's forehead arrives on the healer's knee moments later, the man breathing hard. Maybe he's having a panic attack? "What can I do? Anything. Anything to make it up to you. To make it better." His head lifts and blue eyes are imploring. Oliwer might be a coward, when it all comes down to it. But he's not cruel. His hands move to cup the greenrider's face when he looks up at him again and the healer searches those blue eyes with his own still bright with tears. "It's okay. It's not you. You didn't do anything wrong, Gal." His hands slip away. "But I thought you had. And I've never felt that before." A rising gold? Angry jealousy? "And I... I..." And he's having a hard time actually saying what he doesn't really want to say. G'laer probably should protest that yes, he did so do something wrong, but he's not honest to the point of stupidity. So it's with some measure of relief that he rises and sits next to Oliwer, reaching for his hands. He's silent though, probably because he still doesn't know what's going on. The hand seems to mean to reassure the tearful healer that the greenrider is there for him. The more he thinks about it, the more he doesn't seem willing to speak. And there's an uncomfortable dissonance between G'laer being his safe place and him being afraid of how the greenrider might react that keeps him very still, looking down at their hands. But finally Oliwer closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and just says, "I was with someone. I didn't mean to. I'm so, so sorry." It's hard to say if G'laer being suddenly so still and silent is better or worse in the grand scheme of reactions. His hand hasn't left Oliwer's, so maybe that's a good sign. Maybe he can't move it though because it seems to take effort to get out the one word he manages, "What?" Maybe he didn't hear right. The greenrider's stillness seems to worry Oliwer, but he doesn't try to move his hand away now. Why draw unnecessary attention? Instead of saying those words that were so hard to say the first time again, the healer only whispers, "I'm sorry." "I--" But no, G'laer doesn't know what to say. He turns his head to look at Oli, expression unreadable. Then his hand is slipping from the healer's, but it sort of has to because apparently G'laer needs to move, to stand up to pace. At a few points he stops, looks to the healer and starts to try to say something, but each attempt is equally as unsuccessful as the first. Oliwer doesn't try to keep the hand, but he does look after the greenrider with a certain anxiety in his gaze when G'laer gets up. He can't keep watching, though. That's too hard. The healer leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands rubbing over his face before he finally says, "If you could ask Teisyth to send someone up, I'll stay in my quarters tonight." He doesn't even suggest the green herself give him a ride, probably certain she hates him right now, too. That brings G'laer up short of completing the paced length that is really not so far from the bed. His eyes lock on the healer as he half-asks, half-demands, "You want to go? Is this your way of breaking up with me?" "No," is the first thing out of Oliwer's mouth, even meeting G'laer's eyes for several moments before he glances toward the ledge. "No," he repeats, earnest. Then, "I don't know. I don't even know what I'm doing, Gal. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." He rises then, taking a step toward the greenrider as he asks, voice wavering, "What do you want me to do?" "Not leave." This is immediate and emphatic, G'laer's voice coloring with emotion. "Beyond that, I don't know. I don't know what to think right now. But you're my weyrmate. You're not with me because it's easy," he knows he's not an easy man, "So why am I supposed to be able to just cut and run when things get harder." Things are definitely harder. "No, you stay here. In our home. I need--" He's thinking hard, "I need some time, I think. I'll crash at Laghnei's. And I will come back, and we will find a way to work this out." Somehow. He's probably still in shock. Oliwer is silent while he listens but he starts looking a little panicked when G'laer suggests staying somewhere else. "Don't leave me here. Please. I don't want to be here alone. You're what makes this place my home." This is their home, sure, but it's still a new one to Oliwer. It's G'laer's turn to be quiet. It's a few long moments as he looks at his weyrmate, "Fine." It's not a happy agreement, but neither does it seem especially unhappy. And maybe in the next moments Oliwer will wish he had just let G'laer go, because the greenrider moving to the bed and sitting before moving to recline on it, as per his usual habit. It's a little mechanical, but he's not going anywhere. His finger hooks to beckon Oliwer. "Come here." It's not an invitation but a command. But at least the intention seems to be to get Oliwer installed in his usual complimentary position snuggled against the greenrider's side. Those are a few long, uncomfortable moments for Oliwer, but the agreement puts a very brief, so very relieved smile on his face. He watches G'laer move back to the bed, only moving to follow, if tentatively, once the greenrider has told him to. When he's settled in against his weyrmate, though, Oliwer presses his face to whatever is most convenient, breathing in deeply like he was really worried he might never get to do that again. He should probably just drop it, but he feels the need to murmur again, "I'm so sorry, Gal. I love you so much." G'laer's arm curls around Oliwer in the usual fashion, if a little more stiffly than on previous occasions. Outside, the sound of Teisyth arriving briefly interrupts the silence that follows Oliwer's words now. Unfortunately there's no verbal reassurance coming. Instead, another command, "Tell me what happened." Oliwer lifts his head to glance toward the ledge, frowning. "Will you tell her I'm sorry, too? Please?" It's apparently important to him that the green doesn't hate him. She's done so much to make this work, after all. "Are you sure you--" No, of course he's sure. This is G'laer. "Right. Well. After I saw you in the baths, I was just going to go to my quarters. I tried. But there was this woman drinking in the hall, so I stopped to make sure she was okay. She seemed upset. And I didn't really want to be alone, so I asked if she wanted me to keep her company. I... I didn't think anything would... not like that. With her." But it did. "I'll tell her," G'laer will give at least this much assurance. "What happened next?" is the only thing that comes in an almost painfully neutral tone. That's not the end of the story. He was probably really hoping that G'laer would just fill in the blanks from there, admittedly, so Oliwer frowns up at the greenrider before tucking his head in against his chest again. "I don't know if I remember everything. We were drinking. She wanted to do something. I told her she should go find someone to do something with, but I guess she figured I was right there and..." He pauses, starting to sound a little uncomfortable. "I should have stopped her. But I didn't. I wanted something. Are they all like that when the queens rise?" "I'm given to understand that it's more intense when it's the senior queen, less so with the juniors. But I really couldn't say. I hadn't hit an age where I could feel that sort of thing when I lived here before and I've never been present for one since coming back or in the turns in between." G'laer answers this question first because it's easiest. "They say it's more intense for riders than non, and some claim it's more intense for those with firelizards than those who don't." He considers something a long moment before looking to Oliwer. "It took everything that was in me and Teisyth on top of it to tell Jadzia 'no.'" Maybe this is his way of saying he understands wanting something. But then again, he did say no, in the end, and Oli... well, he didn't. Apparently. "Did you like it?" G'laer asks and his eyes are locked on Oliwer's; good luck trying to bluff this one if that's his inclination. While the fact that other people have some difficulty making good choices when the senior rises is probably somewhat comforting, it certainly doesn't keep Oliwer from looking any less guilty. "I wish I'd had Teisyth to talk some sense into me. Shells, I wish I'd known nothing happened." Comparatively, anyway. "I was so... hurt." He probably wanted to say angry, but that wouldn't quite describe it. He meets G'laer's gaze but, as usual, has a hard time maintaining eye contact, so it drifts toward his chest. "I don't know. I finished. But." Does that mean he enjoyed it? "She wanted to do it again, but I said no." If only he'd been able to say that before. There's a grunt to acknowledge the feeling of hurt. Surely G'laer can see how Oliwer would assume, to the outside observer that kiss would've looked more than suspect. "Had you been with a woman before?" It might seem strange that they've never talked about this, but it's never been relevant before. Of course, this offers no clues what G'laer is taking from all of this and whether all this talk is making it worse or better. Oliwer hesitates to answer, which probably means something considering all he ends up saying is a quiet, "No." But it could just be that he's not sure whether that answer will make G'laer more upset or not. "No?" He questions it, probably because there's hesitation. But that's as much of a question as G'laer makes, looking at Oliwer and waiting to see what will be said or what will be done now. As to whether or not he's upset more or less-- with G'laer, only Teisyth knows. "No," he repeats a little more firmly. "I don't want women. Not like I want you." This, of course, is followed by a tentative motion of Oliwer's hand down G'laer's torso like maybe if he could just show him how he wants him, things would be better. G'laer's hand moves in response, closing overtop of Oliwer's. He doesn't then remove it, but he also doesn't allow it to continue along down toward where it seemed to be going. "It's not a contest, Oli. You can like both. I'd prefer you didn't do both or any other man while you're in a relationship with me, but you can like both." Then there's a deep breath and a sigh. The healer can, no doubt, feel how the greenrider's body loses much of it's tension and then G'laer's hand is lifting away from Oli's and he's shifting enough that he can direct the healer's lips to his own. The kissing hasn't changed, there isn't reservation in them or hesitation, it's just like before, though markedly gentle. "There is no contest," is all that Oliwer can manage to say about that before he's being thoroughly distracted, and thoroughly relieved, by G'laer's gentle lips. Even his hand doesn't continue on its path just now, though given the chance, he'll no doubt remember what he was wanting to do with it soon enough. When their lips part some moments later, there's some degree of explanation offered, with G'laer's fingertips still touching Oliwer's cheek. "You never hold Teisyth's flights against me." And it's true that G'laer has yet to end up in bed with someone he would have chosen, but. "I can't hold this against you." Then, with a serious expression, "I don't want this to become a habit. Next time a gold goes up, you come find me. And if there's some woman-" Or otherwise, "Occupying my lap, you damn well had better man up and come kick her ass." He probably doesn't mean that, but he's got a small smile for the idea, and maybe, just maybe, is trying to make Oliwer smile, too. That does make Oliwer smile. It's a sweet little thing that creases the lines in the corners of his eyes and makes him relax in a way he probably didn't realize he wasn't against the greenrider. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I won't stand idly by again. But you'll have to forgive me if I at least try to ask them nicely to vacate your lap before it comes to ass kicking." Then, "I only want you, Gal. I'll find you." "I suppose." G'laer consents with possibly feigned reluctance. "If only because I'd rather not see you hurt." This might not be a reflection of Oliwer's chances against a generic girl, but against Jadzia, a woman who successfully completed Crom guard training. There would be blood, and most of it would be Oliwer's. And then G'laer would have to... well, no sense in going down that rabbit hole. "Am I allowed to say it now?" It. It. His chances against a generic girl might not be remarkably better, admittedly. In part for the fact that Oliwer would probably never hit a girl. Or anyone, for that matter, without an exceptionally good reason or complete lack of impulse control. In any case, Oliwer doesn't take offense to any possibility of suggestion that he couldn't take a girl. "I can't think of anything I would like to hear more right now." "I love you, Oliwer." It's delivered simply. G'laer's eyes watch Oliwer's face as if memorizing his reaction, memorizing this moment. Oliwer's eyes close for several moments and he looks practically serene before they're opening again to look at G'laer in turn. "Yes," he says, smiling. "I like that." Then he's leaning for a kiss, just a brief one, so he can say, "I love you, G'laer," almost against the greenrider's lips and then seek out something more fervent. |
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