Logs:Intents and Purposes
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| RL Date: 15 April, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'vier stops by the Hall; things go sideways. |
| Where: Tayte's Rooms, Vintner Hall |
| When: Day 13, Month 7, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tahvra/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| There are perks to having been personally requested to return to the Hall. One of these is that the quarters Tayte and her daughters have been provided as their temporary home are proper family accommodations and even have the perk of a small, private bath. This time, when H'vier turned up before he was specifically invited, he was expected and Tayte put him to work, helping to settle the ladies in. There have been moments where Tayte has been distant because shockingly the adults haven't been inclined to talk about H'vier's absence for the birth of their daughter, but the blonde knows better than to turn the bronzerider away from her bed, even if sometimes she's a little more resistant to the idea. The opportunities, of course, haven't been many with Tahvra sleeping in her mother's bed and her near constant-companion. Of course, that means there's been lots of opportunity for daughter-Daddy bonding time when H'vier has wanted it, and these efforts are supported by the former bartender, if perhaps a little clumsily - after all, there's never been a Daddy in the picture when there was a baby this small before. By month 7, life has developed a rhythm. Havi's visits are regular(ish) and welcomed far more often than not. Yvalia goes on regular visits to the Hall and Tayte is not as sleep deprived as she once was, and Tahvra is starting to sleep for longer in the night. The babe is asleep and Yvalia, too, though in her own room off the hallway which houses the door for the master bedroom and small bathing chamber. And Tayte is taking a few moments to try to tidy the living space at the end of the hall, a space which never seems to get as neat as Tayte would like. She straightens the papers, picks up the various articles of clothing (her size and smaller), and deposits toys into a basket off to one side of the room. Her movements are slow, the walk of the weary, but determined. His visits, when he does visit, which is fairly often considering the man in question, always tend to be around the same time of evening. Earlier during his rest days. Tonight, though, H'vier is running behind for whatever reason could possibly be keeping him from visiting with his family. The likelihood of the girls being asleep isn't even going to keep him away! That doesn't mean it's not the first thing he asks about when he lets himself quietly inside, though. Well, he asks about Tahvra, anyway. "Is she down?" He's already starting to shrug out of his flight jacket as he finds Tayte, stepping as quietly as a man of his size can while still wearing boots. Even though he isn't exactly expected, he's expected. By now, Tayte knows the pattern from the first evidence of his arrival, whether that was the scrape of his key finding the lock or the sound of his boots on the rug that covers the stone floor of the hallway, or sometimes by the touch of his lips to her temple when she's curled up asleep. Tonight, she doesn't stop her tidying efforts at the early sounds. Instead, Havi intercepts her with plush feline in hand on her way to the toy basket. "Just." Which might be an exaggeration or simply evidence that Tayte's sense of the passage of time is still that of the baby-centric mother, because the room now looks too tidy for 'Just' to be all there's been. "Should have a couple hours before she's hungry again." Or so she hopes. After those wistful words are delivered, the blonde tilts her head up and pushes up onto her tiptoes in a combined motion that indicates the expectation of a greeting kiss. Just. H'vier's disappointment of this news is obvious. But it's not lingering, having already assumed that would be the case before arriving. If he questions how soon 'just' might have been, though, he doesn't voice it. And Tayte's words spark an unsurprising hope in the bronzerider's expression. He doesn't say anything before wrapping an arm around her and kissing her, but once the kiss is over, he's not quick to let her slip away. "A couple hours, hmm? You don't plan on cleaning the whole time, do you?" Or working. Or anything that might not directly involve him, most likely. "No, of course not." Tayte's tired alto comes softly after her first attempt to extricate herself from his arms proves futile. She sounds, for that first phrase, like he might especially enjoy the next words coming out of her mouth. But it's a fake out, her regard matching the sass-laden, "I thought I'd sleep." Unlike Havi, who has the luxury of full nights of restful sleep, poor Tayte's fondest wish is ever for a little shut-eye. The innocent smile she casts up at him all but confirms she means this comment to rile him. The hope in his face is visibly crushed for her benefit, like he expects her to take some kind of pity on him. Woe is H'vier, not getting laid as often as he used to. It's a hard life. Sometimes more literally than others. "Sometimes I think you enjoy leaving me wanting, woman. It's cruel, you know." Clearly he's picked up on her comment's intention. But still he offers as though it will make his own desires more palatable, "It doesn't have to take long." "Is it?" Cruel? She so clearly does not believe him. Maybe what can't help a literal translation is just not helping his story. Blonde brows are lifted skeptically, though the skepticism is not for his last remark and the way her ocean eyes roll has multiple possible interpretations, not all of them flattering. Nevertheless, Tayte presses her hips against him, though with their ever-present height difference, it's not quite as effective a temptation as she might like. "Well, I suppose there's no point in hiding it anymore," she offers with an appropriately dramatic sigh. "You've obviously found out my fiendish plan. Work hard to make a man fall in love with me, bear him a beautiful daughter," the brilliant smile that interrupts her melodramatic delivery can't be helped; call it maternal weakness, "-and then leave him wanting more. Because I'm holding out for what? A proposal?" There's laughter for that, though it turns briefly awkward and she's suddenly pressing up onto her tiptoes to try to kiss him again; la la la, pretend she didn't tiredly stray into that minefield. To H'vier, Tayte is tempting just by merit of existing. Her hips pressing against him is surely enough to tempt him further despite any issues with height disparity. Mention of any proposal makes the bronzerider laugh, too, but it's difficult to tell whether he picks up on the brief awkwardness. He's much more interested in Tayte's lips. So he waits until he's done kissing her to say, "You almost had me. But I know you aren't interested in any of that nonsense. That's part of what I love about you." That and lots of other things he may or may not have right about her. "Right." The laugh that accompanies the word is weak. Only, he is right (in this case), and yet: "Only," which sounds like 'But,' "Only," she has to repeat before the sentence flows on smoothly if strangely while she's suddenly a little fidgety in his grasp, "Isn't it sort of funny? That we're not, I mean. Interested in all that weyrmating, handfasting nonsense. I mean, shouldn't we be?" And then the words are coming so quickly getting a word in is a distinct challenge. "After all, we've been together and exclusive for over a turn, and we don't want the other bedding anyone else," not even for mating flights, "And we have one, maybe two daughters together," Nevermind that one has another father. She likes H'vier well enough (not as much as K'del, of course). Doesn't that count for something? Blue eyes are confused as they cast up toward the bronzerider's face this time. At least she's not seeming to be trying to be convincing, but is rather lost on the point herself. "Shouldn't we want that?" Isn't that how it's supposed to work? Maybe It's the sleep deficit talking without permission from the blonde's brain. Fidgety is distracting. Then again, almost everything is distracting once the bronzerider is in a certain mood. It can't be helped. Or so he'd have everyone believe, anyway. H'vier opens his mouth as though to say something when Tayte starts down that path, but he thinks better than to try interrupting her, so he just stares at her instead. And once she's done, he smiles. One of those charming smiles meant to put people at ease. "It's only supposed to work like that because it's more convenient for Lords and Ladies to be legally bound. They don't give their daughters to old men because they love each other." He's totally making this up as he goes, so hopefully Tayte is too tired to see through his bullshit. Except his last comment is more sincere, "Not like we love each other." He leans to kiss her forehead before his hand is moving in a way that she can slip off if she wants. Well, there's good and there's bad in what happens next. The good: Tayte doesn't call him out on his bullshit. In fact, while he's delivering his off the cuff explanation she's looking up at him. Or through him. And there's the bad news. The blonde is already down the tunnelsnake hole and there's presently no sign of returning to the world of rational thoughts because instead of responding to what the man says, she presses on. "But weyrmating isn't so formal as handfasting," and what with him having a dragon, handfasting isn't on the table, "And shouldn't we want that given... " At least she doesn't repeat that part, saying instead, "-everything? Is their something wrong with us that we don't want that? Maybe we don't love each other like we think we do." And that last sentence is bound to take her deeper if the crazy train is not derailed. As for slipping away, she's too wrapped up in her downward spiral to think of stepping in any other direction, physically or mentally. H'vier considers all of this for a few moments that probably aren't as long as they seem from his point of view, trying to judge just how he ought to answer her. "You are, for all intents and purposes, my weyrmate, Tayte. I wouldn't even mind moving in with you if it were logistically possible." Since he's apparently quite sure she wouldn't be interested in moving in with him. Of course that's easy enough to say right now when they don't even live in the same general area. "I think you're tired and not thinking straight. Why don't you lay down and try to get some sleep while you can, hmm?" Which is also easier than considering whether the woman he loves might feel differently than he does. It was a good guess. Most women would eat that shit up (regardless of how sincerely or insincerely it was truthfully meant). But this was apparently not the right answer to get a Tayte to bed, in any sense of the phrase. Her hands come up and press against his diaphragm. Eyes are incredulous as they stare up at him (but not necessarily in that good stars-in-her-eyes way). Her mouth forms each word carefully as she repeats: "I am, for all intents and purposes, your weyrmate?" It would be nice if Tayte were just checking that she heard him correctly, but there's a distinct unspoken 'Explain.' in her inflection. It might also be interpreted as, 'Well, there's your shovel, now dig.' The way H'vier lifts his hands up and away from Tayte probably looks kind of defensive. Or guilty. Or something. "Well, aren't you? We aren't fucking anyone else. At least I'm not." Obviously an important point from his perspective. "I try to be here as often as I can. We're... together. Aren't we?" Where that could just sound uncertain, H'vier kind of just sounds challenging. "Am I?" Tayte peers at the bronzerider, squinting in a way that might seem confused or perhaps suspicious. "You've never asked me to be," is the next that is pointed out with hurried words clarifying, "Your weyrmate. Of course we're together." It should go without saying given how ridiculous the path has been up to this point. "But just because we're together and not sleeping with anyone else," here, Tayte's chin angles up and her eyes narrow in a challenge of her own: question her fidelity at his own risk, "That doesn't automatically mean we're like each other's weyrmates." She rocks back a step and then her hands come to rest on her hips, expression bordering on annoyed, "Being weyrmates implies some kind of long-term commitment, some known desire to spend a chunk of one's life in this sort of arrangement. You've never voiced anything of the kind." She eyes him. They've apparently been together long enough for H'vier to at least try to tiptoe around this subject in whatever ways he seems to think will be the most beneficial to peace. Where peace is mostly her not kicking him back to his own lonely weyr. "I didn't know it needed to be said. And I didn't realize we were running on an expiration date. You're the mother of my child, for Faranth's sake." He's sort of given up on claiming both of them. "I love you. You're the only woman I've ever even said that to, Tayte." At least the only one he's ever meant it when he's said it to, but he won't point that out right now. "Do you want me to ask you to be my weyrmate?" "You didn't know it needed to be said?" Maybe Tayte has been spending too much time with five-turn old Yvalia who is in a phase of repeating whatever is said to her. Although where Vali tries to mimic tone, Tayte's is incredulous. Clearly she's not buying it. "Weyrmating is a big commitment. Less than handfasting, but even so, it's a two person decision and it's more than just not sleeping with other people, more than just raising a child together. If I'm going to be someone's weyrmate, I'd sharding well like to be asked." Which does not address his question and perhaps the blonde is doing some digging of her own in not answering. Maybe Havi won't notice? The bronzerider is shrewd about certain things like riding and business. But women have never really been one of those things. Right now is no different. H'vier clearly has no idea what he's supposed to be saying. Usually that doesn't seem to be an issue for him, but maybe he's just not in a fighting mood. So he's hesitant, but earnest, when he asks, "What do you want us to be?" "I don't know," Sigh. Helpful, right? So too must be the next abrupt suggestion, "Let's go to bed." It sounds a bit like throwing in the towel more than tabling the question. But at least Tayte's hands have fallen away from her hips. She'll start to turn to plod toward the bedroom if she's not stopped. H'vier doesn't stop her, but he doesn't follow immediately, either. He watches her for a few moments, instead, perhaps debating whether or not he's supposed to follow or stop her or something else that hasn't crossed his mind. In the end, though, he does follow. It's hard to let Tayte walk away from him for too long even if he does enjoy the view, plodding or not. "Anything that'll help you sleep?" It's an abrupt stop in the hallway, halfway to her bedroom. Tayte turning a breath after the question is posed and advancing on H'vier. Her expression is unreadable, and that might be cause for concern. Maybe the fight isn't over? But (if not stopped) her hands reach for his belt, fingers hooking in behind it, behind the fabric of his pants and she's using that point as an anchor for reeling herself in and she's pressed up on tippy-toes seeking a kiss (and more). Maybe her ardor will be enough to distract from her motives. Might it be guilt? If so, it's not quite the guilt of the unfaithful, but the guilt of the uncertain is pretty similar. He stops when she turns but he doesn't move when she approaches, even if, for a second, he might think about it. H'vier is rewarded for standing his ground and, perhaps unsurprisingly, he's quite willing to set aside any fighting he's been trying to diffuse more than antagonize in favor of kissing Tayte. And if she's going to go along with that, he's not going to be subtle about what he really wants right now, hands moving with every intention of lifting her and finding the nearest bit of empty wall to press her against. It's like he read her mind (for once)! The next minutes are full of effort. Mostly to not wake either the sleeping infant or her big sister as 'a(ny)thing that will help her sleep' is fulfilled. Tayte is left panting and sagging between bronzerider and wall. But the cry that rises from the open door down the hall says she hasn't much time to collect herself and she's starting to squirm free of her position between the rock wall and a no-longer-hard place. It would probably be kind of poor form for H'vier to let Tayte go fetch their daughter while he goes and gets comfortable and falls asleep in her bed or something. So he kisses Tayte as she tries to squirm free, then helps her down as he says, "Let me get her for you." Then he's turning to move down the hall even as he resituates his clothes, whether she agrees or not. |
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