Logs:Love is a Weakness
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| RL Date: 29 June, 2015 |
| Who: H'vier, Lilah |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr, Lemos Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lilah invites H'vier to Lemos' gather, but they don't stay there for long. |
| Where: Gather Grounds, Lemos Hold |
| When: Day 18, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Tayte/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: NSFW. |
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| Lemos' hills and forests are beautiful in winter, covered in snow and reflecting the lights of the gather. Even in all of this beauty, in the overwhelming energy of the gather as people laugh and dance and drink while the sun casts dying light, Fort's new Acting Weyrwoman stands at the sidelines. Without her knot, she is still wrapped up in a wine-red dress, baring shoulders and a hint of cleavage, and that distinctive red-gold hair has been pulled up so as not to compete with the color of the dress, pinned up into a stylish knot at the nape of her neck. And perhaps it is that she hasn't found what she came for here in this crowd, but Eliyaveith reaches out for the unfamiliar mind, questioning « Reisoth? » Her single word comes paired with invitation and image, enough to guide them both to the gather, if they'd like. Reisoth's mind is cool and distant when Eliyaveith first reaches out for him, but as his attention turns on her, so does the weight of his focus. « Eliyaveith. » His greeting is polite and little more, so unlike his rider. « Congratulations. » The word is genuine despite its simple nature. Then, « H'vier is getting dressed. » And as soon as his rider is ready, they're on their way to Lemos. H'vier, in his dress leathers, might need help finding the Weyrwoman, but as soon as he does, it's clear that her dress has made a good impression. He's trying, with limited success, not to stare at her cleavage when he greets her with a smile, "You look... distracting, Weyrwoman." It's a compliment. Really. The flicker of Eliyaveith's mind is all flames, heat versus cool, but she answers him with a steady, « We only do what is best for the Weyr, » for his congratulations. She is patient in waiting for his rider, polite enough to offer some guidance to him through dragon for where exactly he can find hers. So it is likely no surprise at all to Lilah when H'vier appears, meeting the smile with the lift of her brows upwards. "I hope not too distracting, wingleader. You and I have a lot to discuss." « Don't we all? » It's a rhetorical question, but Reisoth, once he's settled himself some distance from the gather grounds, maintains some level of interest in observing the Fortian queen. "We do?" H'vier's is an actual question. "You aren't pregnant, are you?" One might imagine that he's asked a few women this question in the past. A wry smile touches Lilah's lips at the question, her fingers smoothing self-consciously over her stomach even as she counters, "And you think that I would know already, if it were yours?" A pause, before she clarifies, "No, I am not pregnant. And since I am not, I would love a glass of wine." At least Reisoth has earned agreement from the queen, a warm thing that only brushes silently against the dragon's mind even from where she has settled to cuddle with a Benden blue dragon. "It's been a seven," counters H'vier as though he can't imagine how he would be expected to know whether that's long enough for a woman to know that sort of thing. "A busy seven, at that. I suppose I'm to offer my congratulations." He hesitates, eyeing the goldrider neutrally, then turns to fetch her a glass of wine without asking for her preferences. He'll return with one for each them, so at least it's something he's willing to drink himself. Only a soft noise accepts his congratulations paired with the hint of a smile. And as he turns away to fetch that wine, Lilah's dark gaze follows him and lingers there to watch his progress. (Maybe she is watching to see if he gets distracted by another woman before returning.) "It has been a busy seven. Between new duties and visitors--," she continues when he returns, reaching to take one of the glasses from him. "K'del, for example." H'vier had been in a decent mood, but mention of the Reachian Weyrleader darkens his expression somewhat. "That's hardly surprising. It's his job to kiss as much foreign ass as possible, isn't it? The real question is whether or not it was only your, admittedly very nice, ass he got ahold of." "What else do you suspect he got a hold of?" Lilah questions in a murmur, seemingly not surprised by the bronzerider's reaction to the mention of K'del. That may be what brings her closer as she speaks, stepping into H'vier's space easily as she lifts dark eyes up to him under the fan of soft lashes. He doesn't seem concerned with having Lilah in his space. In fact, he probably likes her being so close. H'vier doesn't take advantage of the proximity by trying to touch her, however. "You know perfectly well. Did you let him under your dress, too? You know how he is with Fortian goldriders." Lilah has no such restraint with touching the bronzerider, her free hand lifting to curve fingers lightly against his chest as she answers lowly, "I am sure the rumors and gossips are already sure that I do. He does have a reputation, doesn't he?" But the way she looks at up at him turns to a study as she adds, "But so do you." Being compared to K'del is not H'vier's most favorite thing in the world. Not even close. He smiles at Lilah, though. It's not particularly friendly, but it's restrained. "I'm aware of my reputation. I've spent a lot of time cultivating it." Maybe not always on purpose, granted. "Are you trying to tell me that you'd like for me to continue cultivating it with you?" Because of course that's what he'd assume. It's predictable. Before they can draw any attention for it, Lilah's fingers fall away from where they rest against muscle, though not without trailing down that broad chest. "No," she answers flatly, though. "I want you to tell me about the woman that you hit." Why it is her business-- Well. H'vier frowns outright now, eyes narrowing. That's probably more for K'del than for Lilah, but it's the woman who bears the brunt of it right now. "There's nothing to tell." The goldrider holds herself well under narrowed eyes and frowns, only the curve of one eyebrow upwards in silent response for his answer. "Nothing? Then all I know is what K'del has told me," Lilah says simply, her wine lifted to her lips finally. "And that doesn't inspire me to let you take me back to my weyr tonight." "I have no idea what K'del told you. Or why. But I can assure you that he's ultimately happy it happened. She's moved on. With my children." Definitely not with H'vier anymore. "She's one of the reasons I started seeing your mindhealer." Or the mindhealer that had been Fort's when he started seeing her. "What happened?" presses Lilah on that point, a low question even as her gaze slides slowly over him in a study. "I lost my temper. I hit her face with the back of my hand." H'vier says it while meeting Lilah's gaze in such a way that he's very unlikely to be lying. "And I promise you that I've regretted it every day since." Or near enough. He keeps his dark eyes on the redhead. Is that what she wanted? It seems to be, since Lilah draws close again to the bronzerider, brushing against him as she pushes to her toes to murmur into his ear as lowly as the gather allows, as she tells him, "If you ever touch me in a way that I don't like, I will make sure you lose your hands." But the words hold an invitation to them, as does her soft curves where they brush against him. H'vier says nothing, looking down at the goldrider as though judging whether or not she has the conviction to follow through on her threats. Whatever he decides, his free hand moves to settle against her waist, around toward her back to pull her against him more firmly. "I trust that means you're going be clear about what you do and don't like, Weyrwoman." "Lilah," she corrects for the title, a small smile playing at her lips for once. And for all of the hardness in the Weyrwoman's personality, there's a softness as she melds against him in that familiar way. Despite the gather going on around them and the publicity of their location, she follows through to a brush of a kiss against his lips as an answer. "Lilah," he repeats, voice a little quieter, a little deeper. H'vier seems entirely unconcerned about the goings on around them when the woman touches his lips. He doesn't respond right away, other than a pleased rumble, but if she doesn't pull her head away after a moment, he tilts his own in an attempt to get more than just a brush of lips. It needs her cooperation, though, because he still has a glass of wine in the hand he might otherwise have behind her neck. He certainly receives that cooperation, Lilah meeting that deeper kiss with an encouraging noise catching on her lips as she responds with a need of her own. She only draws back eventually to murmur against his lips in a request, not a command, "Take me home, wingleader. Take me." No requests for dancing, not to peruse the stalls. "But I just got here," says H'vier like he might fully intend on enjoying the gather for awhile before taking Lilah anywhere. He doesn't let her go entirely, though, content to keep their contact. "I'll admit your argument is very persuasive, though." Lilah's brow draws upwards at H'vier's answer, clearly not expecting that as darker emotions flicker across the goldrider's gaze for it. Annoyance, frustration. "Then stay here. I am going," she counters, moving to draw away further. Or at least, test whether he will let her. It might not help his case very much that H'vier laughs when she seems upset by his answer. He tries to keep her close to him, though, stepping toward her when she tries to move away, arm firm at her waist. "I'll take you home. Let me finish my wine, at least?" It won't take long, in any case. And he can drink as they walk. "Only if I don't find someone else before you're done," murmurs Lilah in challenge to that question, that laugh doing little good for the redhead's temper as she levels a look over H'vier. But with the arm at her waist, at least she can't get far to actually follow through on that threat. Nor is anyone likely to approach her to try to take her from the large bronzerider. "I'll take my chances," says the bronzerider as he starts leading them slowly through the gather, presumably toward Reisoth's direction. "Are you sure you want to risk someone seeing us go into your weyr?" He seems curious more than worried. Hardly surprising considering rumors would benefit him more than her. Lilah leans in to the curve of his arm as he guides her to question lowly, "Rather than sneak a quickie in the woods this time? In the middle of winter?" But she dismisses the implied rumors with a shake of her head, adding simply, "They will talk whether it's you in my weyr or K'del or even Hattie's assistant, bringing me hides." "Even I would prefer your bed." He says it as though he expects there are people who assume he'd rather have sex against a tree than in a soft, comfortable bed. "And getting you entirely out of your dress this time." H'vier even enjoys imagining that. "He should be just up here," he adds of Reisoth even as the bronze attempts to get as close to them as possible as soon as they break past the gather grounds. "Then both of those can be arranged," agrees Lilah with a bare breath of a laugh, only shifting away from H'vier's arms almost teasingly to start the process of climbing the large bronze. Despite his size, she doesn't seem to need all that much help, but then, Eliyaveith is bigger. The queen in question doesn't seem to have any objections to her lifemate riding with Reisoth and his. If H'vier's hands end up on Lilah's butt, it's probably... not actually only to help her with her mounting. But he follows her up in short order and once they're strapped in, the bronze is taking them to Fort. Reisoth deposits the pair on Eliyaveith's ledge, but he won't linger there without her invitation, just as content to settle on the heights by himself. H'vier has no intention of giving Lilah the same space, though, pulling her in against him to kiss her as soon as they're past the ledge. When Eliyaveith returns to Fort alone, she does not settle on her ledge, but nor does she take to the heights with the bronze. Instead, it's the empty junior ledge nearby that she settles on, the one that overlooks the weyrling barracks for all that they are all tucked in for the night. There is a fire banked in the rider's quarters in the back of Lilah's weyr, the only hint of warmth here. Especially where they stumble into that front room, with little furniture and white-washed walls. It is a stark contrast to the responsive woman in his arms, with her bright hair and flushed skin as she draws away from that kiss only to reach teasingly for the laces of her red dress. "Tell me something about yourself," she bargains, with the promise of more bared skin hanging in her gesture. H'vier doesn't waste a lot of time only staring at Lilah, though he does that, too, when she draws away. He shrugs out of his jacket, pulling his shirt out from where it's tucked into his pants in a way that guarantees he's distracted by her. "I've been fantasizing about tearing that dress off of you since I found you." He doesn't, however, approach to do any of said tearing. Does that count as something about himself? "No," replies Lilah dismissively of his answer, dark gaze resting on the bronzerider as she pulls one knot slowly free and starts working on the next as the dress loosens slightly to show a bit more cleavage. "Tell me something personal. Something about you." Her lips curve into a wry smile before she adds, "Has a man with your reputation ever been in love?" H'vier's dark eyes unsurprisingly focus a little lower than her face, eager for the cleavage, eager for more than cleavage. But they glance back up when she asks the last question. "Sure, I've been in love. Have you?" This seems, maybe not more interesting than her breasts, but interesting to some extent. "No," replies Lilah again in a murmur, still pulling that lace free slowly. It is enough to loosen the dress so that it falls to her hips, catching there. "Tell me something else." This time, she reaches for the low knot of red-gold hair instead of moving to pull the dress down any further. "No?" Whether he expected another answer from her or not, H'vier doesn't seem surprised, necessarily. But then he's still distracted by the skin her dress is baring. "I wouldn't recommend it." He pulls his belt's clasp loose, then he's stepping toward the goldrider as he pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it aside. "There isn't much to tell. And I don't know what you already know about me." It's probably more than he'd like her to as it is. Those soft curls are freed even as he steps forward, falling around Lilah's bare shoulders as her gaze slides over his bare chest appreciatively. And where he draws near, she is shameless in lifting a hand to splay against his abdomen, questioning challenging, "You don't? Don't want me to fall helplessly in love with you, H'vier?" Her fingers trail down towards that loosened belt slowly, taking her time before catching on the stays there and tugging on them. He doesn't mind her touch. Far from it. H'vier is a physical person. He wouldn't have the reputation that he does if he weren't. "No," he tells her. But as her fingers trail down to his waist, he amends, "Maybe." Even though he continues with, "It wouldn't be good for you. For either of us." Nimble fingers make short work of loosening the stays of his pants so that her hand can slide inside, pressing closer as Lilah asks a soft, simple, "Why?" Do all women know these tricks? Springing serious questions on men when they're made so vulnerable by their arousal? It's not fair. And H'vier isn't thinking well enough to point that out. He's barely thinking well enough to answer, "Love is a weakness. But that's not what you want from me anyway, Lilah. We both know that." "And what do I want, then?" Lilah counters in a murmur, her fingers curving possessively around the length of his hardness, though dark eyes never leave the bronzerider's. "What do you want from me?" That is perhaps the more important question in the way she weights it, though it isn't without a hint of suggestion, seeking something. H'vier opens his mouth to answer the first, but her fingers make him sigh out the breath he was going to use even as he wraps his own around her wrist to still further progress. He ignores the first question to answer the more important one. That or he's forgotten there was another question already. "I want you." That's what he wants from Lilah. "Are you done asking questions now?" "That depends, wingleader. Are you going to try to take what you want?" is another challenge, but this one doesn't come without an invitation. With her wrist trapped from further movements, she only watches him now, half-naked, with a hint of a smile to her lips. It's the sort of invitation H'vier can get behind. Or on top of? Well, right now he'll pull her closer with that wrist he has, and pick Lilah up, lifting her over his shoulder so he can carry her to bed. That's where he'll drop her, but he doesn't follow, instead standing next to the bed and looking for some grip on her dress so he can pull it down past her hips and off of her. "Since my hands are at stake, why don't you come up with some word for me to stop in case I get close to losing them, hm?" H'vier is fond of his hands. There is a moment of tension in Lilah's frame as he lifts her over his shoulder, a moment where it seems as if the goldrider will fight against it on instinct, but she does not. She is much more helpful when it comes to the removal of her dress, however, as her hips lift to allow him to drag the dress off, unconcerned where it ends up as she watches him with dark eyes. Red curls have spread over the white bedspread, this room as colorless as the reception of her weyr, except that a fire warms in the hearth. "How about stop? Or no?" she questions teasingly. "Only if you're certain you'll always want me to stop when you say stop," says the bronzerider, pushing his pants off of his hips so he can step out of them now that Lilah has been properly disrobed. H'vier still doesn't join her, but he is looking at her heatedly while he uses one of his precious hands in one of his most favorite, if slow and deliberate, ways. A breath hitches in Lilah's throat, a low, encouraging noise slipping past her lips. The weight of her gaze on him is dark with desire, burning, and the train of her thoughts and conversation is lost into a simple, "Please. Please." H'vier likes that word. It's the opposite of stop and that's exactly what he wants to do. He's on the bed and on top of Lilah in the next moments, pressing himself firmly between her legs as he leans down to kiss her with a possessive urgency and a groan low in his throat. Lilah is ready and willing, legs wrapping with her own possessiveness around the bronzerider as he settles between them. There's a fierce need driving the goldrider, wanting more and more until finally she finds the peak of her own pleasure. And after, she starts to shift away as a habit, to put some distance between herself and H'vier. It doesn't take H'vier much longer to find his own release, hers no doubt a catalyst for his, but he's less keen on the idea of Lilah putting distance between them once he's shifted to the side with a contented groan. "Don't," he rumbles, trying to pull her back against him so he can wrap an arm around her waist. There's a soft hint of surprise to be pulled back, but Lilah doesn't fight against it. She even curves against him as that arm wraps over her waist, burying her face against the crook where his arm meets his neck even as she murmurs simply, "You don't have to stay." H'vier relaxes once she's curved against him and not trying to get away. "Do you want me to leave?" It's not the same as not having to stay but it's a genuine, if drowsy, question. He's certainly giving no indication that he'd like to do anything but doze off right here. "Less people would likely notice than if you left in the morning," is Lilah's answer, not a yes, yet--. But, her fingers curve against his ribs, tracing muscle there in soft exploration as she fits her curves against him, adjusting soft to hard until she fits just right. "If you cared about people noticing, you wouldn't have let me bring you here in the first place." And, presumably, H'vier doesn't care, because he brought her here. No, he's not going to be moving anytime soon. Not until he needs to anyway, whether that's when Lilah wakes up in the middle of the night and realizes the horrible mistake she's made (again) or in the morning when he needs to return to High Reaches and his duties. A breath that might be a laugh is exhaled against H'vier's skin, though with her face buried against him, it's hard to say. But Lilah does not argue that point further, instead continuing the slow trace of light fingertips over his muscles, at least until she falls asleep as well, remaining secured against him. |
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