Logs:Irrelevant Wants and Expectations
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| RL Date: 2 July, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Lilah, Eliyaveith, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lilah 'invites' Dee to see her for the first time after the hatching. |
| Where: Lilah's Sanitized Watercolor Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Early in the morning and late in the evening, the cold rain falling turns to almost-pleasant snow, but most of the day is mired in a bleak, gray drizzle. |
| Mentions: Aikane/Mentions, Ead/Mentions, Isabeau/Mentions, Paislie/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: A little angst. |
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>---< Lilah's Sanitized Watercolor Weyr, Fort Weyr >----------------<
The whole of this weyr seems strangely sanitized and impersonal, with
walls painted white and cleaned often if the subtle shine is any
indication. The first room is vaguely triangular in shape, with the
generous dragon's wallow carved into a deep curve towards the right. The
rest of it appears to have been left as a reception room, a white-washed,
stone table centered between the wallow and the far-left wall with its
surface kept clear of any knickknacks and four varnished, wooden chairs of
simple taste each claiming a side. On the left wall runs a long, brass
shelf, upon which sits a small collection of bound books and a large
fantastical watercolor depicting a scene that could never exist anywhere
in Pern. Hooks under the shelf hold flight gear and even a flamethrower,
still leaving space for more.
A wide, doorless entryway at the northmost point of the triangle leads
through to the rider's private quarters - an oval-shaped room a third of
the size of the last. Within, the hearth is small, but finely-decorated
with ceramic, white tiles, with a woven brass safety screen protecting the
room from embers. The double bed lies in the left-hand portion of the
room, made up with crisp, white linens and a down comforter covered with
soft, white fabric embroidered with raised white vines. A white, wool
blanket lies folded neatly at the bottom of the bed. In the middle of the
far wall, another unprotected archway heralds the existence of another
room: a small bathing room, complete with pool, basin and shelves, which
hold a container of soapsand and a stack of towels. It was bound to come, that 'invitation' to join Lilah to Fort's newest goldrider. Surely Dee is expecting it long before one of the weyrlingmaster's assistants tracks her down to send her on her way as soon as Taeliyth seems to be settled in after the early morning rituals of feeding and bathing and oiling enough to part with her. And Lilah is expecting her before Dee arrives, with Eliyaveith having taken up the empty junior ledge that overlooks the weyrling barracks, keeping a guard over her children despite that they are no longer in their eggs. Lilah, however, waits in her own weyr, with it's white-washed walls and bare reception, seated at the table as she goes over carefully arranged hides. She, at least, has thought to order another cup with the klah that's been delivered, steaming despite the bleak, grey rain, with a basket of fresh-baked breakfast pastries from the kitchens, which she has not touched, yet. Dee might be expected to be nervous, but her nerves are made all the worse by the only days old cropping of her long locks that exposes so much more of face and gives her nothing to hide behind (if she were the hiding behind sort). One also might, reasonably, expect Taeliyth to be settled (as instructed). The little gold, however, accompanies her rider as far as the base of the junior's ledge where her mother is settled and seeks a way for her slender body to climb to join her there. One hand pushes through the newly shorn locks self-consciously as Dee steps out of the cold drizzle, looking a touch like this is the last place on Pern that she'd like to be. Thankfully, Dee is a dutiful sort, so she's here as invited, muddy boots, work-sodden clothes and all. "Weyrwoman Lilah," she greets with a crisp salute. The interrupted sleep both from baby dragons and regular nightmares tells in the shadows under the girl's eyes and there's a tension in her frame and face that speaks to her holding her figurative breath, waiting for something. "Weyrling," greets Lilah in turn, though she motions only with the pen she holds lightly between her fingers, the gesture inviting Dee to take a seat across from her and then towards the basket of still warm baked goods and that hot carafe of klah. "You must be hungry." And it seems, that is what the goldrider should entertain herself with as the Weyrwoman finishes what she is currently writing. Eliyaveith does not make the little gold join her; instead, as soon as Taeliyth's rider has given her enough space, there is a snap of wings out before the gold makes the short glide down into the bowl towards her daughter. « You should be asleep, » is certainly what the queen expected, and it is likely what she expects now as she moves to curl around the little one carefully. There's a discreet glance toward the inner weyr, perhaps a fleeting wish that she were only here to collect Lilah's laundry once again, as Dee moves to take the seat. She sits stiffly, her hands initially settled on her knees, with a polite, "Thank you," though it's some moments yet before she reaches for the klah to pour herself a mug and then for one of the baked goods. Her moves are all tentative, as if Lilah might find something objectionable about even these things - as if a one-day weyrwoman ought do them some way Dee doesn't know how. « So should Dee. » Taeliyth tells her mother with what should soon become a familiar edge of sass. « Lilah has asked for her. » The question is unspoken but decidedly there: why? « We worry for you, » Eliyaveith answers to her daughter's question, the you made plural in her thoughts. Both rider and dragon, forever, irrevocably intertwined. Her wing is spread protectively over her daughter as she settles around her, hiding her from the rest of the world under that opaque expanse. As Lilah finishes, she places her pen down and reaches for her own klah, each movement so sure and graceful as she does so. It's as she lifts that mug to her lips that she tells Dee, "It has been noticed that you are having trouble adjusting." It isn't a question, but she waits on the goldrider expectantly. Irrevocably, indeed. Taeliyth sighs as one much put upon, though there's a thin edge of sarcastic humor there. She settles more into the curl of her dam, not so much snuggling up, but not minding the closeness. Her mind doesn't seem especially tired, but time and safety may yet weave a different future for the here and now. "Yes, ma'am," is Dee's answer because there's no good way to reason it or deny it. "I'd have fared better with a green," is added with a blush coloring her cheeks and a guilty glance out toward where her lifemate sits. "Would you have? What would be different, right this instant, if you were on a green?" challenges Lilah simply to that answer, her brow curving upwards as she studies the young woman. A soft snort, that almost sounds like a laugh on Eliyaveith's part, is almost immediate after Dee's statement, even as she snuggles closer to Taeliyth. She will be the one to tell her daughter, « She has had the same thoughts, before. » Dee swallows her nerves in the face of challenge, taking a slow, even breath before answering. "Fewer expectations, for one. A possibility I might get to have some of the things I wanted for my life for another, instead of none. Perhaps even a dragon that likes me." The last has her mouth clamping shut. Suddenly, it's time for a bite of pastry and she has no intention of having the ill-manners to speak to the Weyrwoman with her mouth full. « She probably would have, » Taeliyth doesn't seem disinclined to agree with her chosen. « Well, mine, anyway. Would Lilah? » she queries curiously of her dam. Do the patterns repeat themselves exactly or are only some steps of the dance the same for each dancer? "You do not have any expectations, currently, that your fellow weyrlings don't have. You need to take care of her, take care of yourself, and learn how to be a dragonrider," dismisses Lilah as Dee answers, not acknowledging the rest because perhaps the Weyrwoman isn't prepared to handle that. "And in that, it seems, you are failing." « She would not have any life without me, » replies Eliyaveith simply, though the weight of her warmth curves reassuringly around her daughter as she considers the other statement. « I love her. You love your chosen. Is that not enough? » Dee's dark brows lift, "Tell that to the people who stare at me when I come to the cavern for lunch. Tell it to the haidresser who did my hair and wouldn't take my marks. Tell it to my friends, and to every brown and bronzerider who have cropped up out of the woodwork to check on me. On her." There's a rise of emotion through her words that builds. She doesn't lose it, but there's clear anxiety, frustration and something that verges on defeat. "I was the worst choice on the Sands for this. She could've had Ead, or Paislie or Aikane or Isabeau or any of the other girls and she chose me, and now she regrets it!" She loses it just a little there at the end, both klah and pastry being set down. The only thing that keeps Dee in her chair is that her eyes fall to Lilah's knot. "I wasn't-- I'm not prepared for any of this, Weyrwoman. But I can't give it all back. There isn't a way no matter how we might wish it," 'we' might include Lilah, but certainly, it includes the teen and her lifemate. Taeliyth is silent some moments. It's likely she's paying more attention to Dee's words than her dam's question. Still, her answer comes, « It may be enough for me to love her, if either of us even really understands what that means, » and she is dubious, « but my loving her does not assure her the love of the Weyr or our place here. » Lilah is silent through Dee's outburst, sipping her klah patiently as she waits for the goldrider to finish. And only after does the Weyrwoman set her mug down sharply, the sound purposeful like the rest of her movements. "I do not have to tell anyone anything, weyrling. I am telling you," she replies slowly. "No one is expected to Impress with the preparation to be a dragonrider. That is what weyrlinghood is for. Now, you need to forget the rest; forget her color, forget Southern, forget that you never wanted to Impress and focus on weyrlinghood. Do you understand me?" « It will, one day. She will find her place, » Eliyaveith answers, a hint of pride there for her own rider and the place that they have found as she nuzzles Taeliyth gently. Dee's expression hardens, but not to resolve, just to a withdrawn defensiveness. "Yes, ma'am," is crisp, her fingers curling under on her knees, knuckles ready to edge toward white. « Perhaps, » is noncommittal on Taeliyth's part. Where Dee is performing to her rank, the gold has no compunction to tell her mother, « Lilah should not bully her. I can't abide bullies. » There's some kind of promise there, some kind of warning, but subtle somehow. That defensiveness only meets a silent study, Lilah's dark eyes not even wavering from Dee as she waits. And from the queen, there would likely have been agreement for Taeliyth's sentiment, a softer aspect of Eliyaveith compared to her rider, yet-- the warning only draws silence from dam as well, though she doesn't draw away from the closeness with her daughter. "May I be dismissed, ma'am?" Dee asks some many moments of silence later, just looking at Lilah with her ever too-wide hazel eyes. Taeliyth joins with the silence, barely the flutter of wind through leafy bough in her mind. It's not Eliyaveith or her silence that makes Taeliyth so. "No," Lilah replies simply, her own dark, wide eyes apparently unaffected by Dee's as she watches the younger girl. « There are things she must hear, » Eliyaveith starts gently to her daughter, nuzzling her softly again. « So that she can be a better weyrling, a better lifemate. » Okay then. Dee sucks in a breath at the rejection but only lets her eyes drop to her abandoned klah and pastry. After another pair of moments, she reaches for the mug, curling both hands around it and drawing it up so she can blow gently on the steaming surface. Since she's waiting anyway. « We're listening. » is Taeliyth's rejoinder. She's a little opposed to the nuzzling, but only because... Moooom. Already, the tiny gold doesn't want to be a baby enough to be snuggly-groomed by her dam. Silence lingers for a long moment, drawn out between them as Lilah watches the goldrider. But, eventually, the Weyrwoman decides to speak very carefully, even gently to Dee as she explains, "I was nearly 24 turns old when I Impressed, Dahlia. Nearly 7 turns more experience and life than you have, and still I didn't feel prepared or ready to ride a queen, either." A pause, before she continues, "The odds are never in that favor, are they? And you-- did not want to Impress at all. That, at least, I expected. Wanted." Where is she going with this? Who knows. She waits a moment, as if waiting for a question from the young woman across from her. "It was easy for me to focus on what I needed to do, what I needed to study and learn at that moment and not worry about the rest of it. What do you need just to get through this month, this moment, weyrling?" Eliyaveith is like many moms; she does not listen to what Taeliyth wants as she continues softly caressing the daughter in her arms, rubbing her head over her in a way that likely imparts the scent of her hide onto the younger queen. The tears start silently falling when the Weyrwoman asks the last question. The threat was there while Dee listened, really listened to Lilah's expression of her experience. The exhaustion shows in her face, in the pained tension that reveals a wealth of restrained emotion. The breath Dee draws in the wake of it is a shaky attempt to get those feelings more under control. Taeliyth, for once, seems to have an appropriate baby reaction. She's jerking up in the circle of her mother's greater body, her head turning toward Eliyaveith's weyr, distress flashing before she, more quickly, manages to bury it under something more close to calm. « Maybe she should not be nice either, » Taeliyth considers, something strained in that assessment. « You can't tell her. » Taeliyth's mind was quick to call the worst paths, to lay them out plainly enough that Dee couldn't deny them. Sure, there were paths that led better places stemming from this same choice, but the gold ensured those seemed less stable, less possible. Arguably, they were the more uncertain. (To Dee from Taeliyth) Dee's mind is stiff. This is nothing new, not since hatching, not since the crippling weight of everything hit her. « She might understand. » It's more plea than argument. (To Taeliyth from Dee) « Dee, » is firm and unnecessary. Taeliyth and Dee both know transparency is not the answer. (To Dee from Taeliyth) « She'll never trust us, » is piteous but resigned. (To Taeliyth from Dee) « None of them will, » is the hard rejoinder that carries the cruel reminder that neither, truly, does Taeliyth trust her well-intentioned if misguided rider. Would anyone else see Dee that way? Taeliyth doesn't know, but now isn't the moment to take the chance. (To Dee from Taeliyth) In the next moment, the thought is privately shared, much more overtly by Taeliyth than her rider: can this be used to fix it? The silent communication takes only the moments that it takes Dee to stop the tears, to get her breath closer to normal and to be able to speak. "I don't know, ma'am." It is respectful and honest, even if there might be a number of reasons for not knowing that aren't readily apparent. She takes one more breath so her voice is steady when she says, "But I will figure it out, ma'am, if I can have until the end of the seven." To this, she adds, "I do want to do well by Fort," and the stutter comes with her dragon's name, "and T-Taeliyth, I'm just-- not. Yet." Not for lack of wanting. There is a hint of growing impatience in the Weyrwoman as the younger woman starts to cry, the softness fading away back to a neutrality as Lilah waits for Dee to stop and address her offer. "My door, as it were, is always open," she states simply to that request. But, she adds, "Whatever you want or don't want, Dahlia, you will begin your training as a weyrwoman once she is three months old. I hope you are ready by then." Those words hold a dismissal to them, as Lilah picks back up her pen. Unfortunately, Taeliyth doesn't get nearly the same from her dam, who seems content to keep cuddling her daughter as long as the young gold will allow. Even the distress is only met with a comforting, « They will find a way to communicate. » Dee should be ready to leap up and run at the dismissal, but she manages to temper her eagerness to go. In the end, she stops before she gets two paces away and turns back to say. "I like Paislie." It's abrupt. It's odd. "I don't expect you to be like her, necessarily, or for us to be friends, like I am with her... but..." What did Dee want to say? "I'm-- I don't really want this job," is worth reiterating, "but I'm looking forward to working with you. Even if you scare me a little." Can she retreat now safely? She's already stepping to do so if Lilah doesn't make move to put a stop to it. Taeliyth begrudgingly allows her mother to mother her, adopting the much put-upon-but-probably-secretly-a-little-pleased attitude that would sooner befit her rider's age than her own and stays, even if Dee passes the pair on the way back to the barracks; she's not needed there. "I did say whatever you want or don't want is irrelevant," is all Lilah will answer as Dee retreats, watching the younger woman until she reaches the entrance of the weyr and then dropping her gaze back to the hidework she has with her. And with her dragon distracted with her daughter, she can likely concentrate and get through the work quickly for once. |
Comments
Isabeau (13:03, 4 July 2015 (MDT)) said...
Aww, poor Dee. We just don't know you yet.
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