Logs:Nothing Happened
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| RL Date: 7 September, 2014 |
| Who: Elise, Azaylia |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A panicked Elise and Aedrielth seek refuge from Elaruth's sudden Flight. |
| Where: Bowl/Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 9, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Barnabas/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, M'icah/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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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. In another part of the world, a queen is rising. That in itself isn't terrible, queens rise often enough, it's the way of it that's bad. Fort has three queens, meaning double trouble for everyone if one goes up, and meaning twice as much security should be had for those circumstances. Something went wrong somewhere along the line this time, leaving Elise to find out in a very abrupt way and leaving her to make sure that she and her queen, and Lilah and hers, got out in time to avoid disaster. With nobody else to turn to, Hattie being... otherwise occupied, Elise sought out the only other person to trust with something like this. And so it is that Aedrielth reaches out for Hraedhyth. For, not to. « We need to come. » Her voice, normally so smooth and light, reverberates now under the struggle of battling against things she hasn't felt before. A moment later, she appears in the sky above High Reaches, a pale figment in the sky. Hraedhyth can be, has been forced to be, tolerant of foreign queens invading her territory. It's the reason why, when Aedrielth calls, the Fortian is met with rousing anger at first. Only when she reaches out to push at the younger gold does she understand, consuming that struggle in flames that dim to a welcoming warmth. « Come. » Not that much time is given for the invitation, with how quickly Aedrielth appears in the night sky. Hraedhyth is slow to untangle herself from Cadejoth's side, leaping from her mate's ledge to her own where Azaylia stands, clutching her robe closed. « There is trouble. » Though, « You are safe, here. We are here. All is well. » The Weyrwoman's brows are furrowed with concern, waiting until Elise is mostly dismounted to approach and ask, "What's wrong? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Is Hattie?" Slightly disoriented, she's still in the process of waking up. 'Safe' is a foreign idea right now, and Aedrielth balks against it. Not that that stops her from spiraling down, quicker than what might be 'safe', until she can begin backwinging into the unfamiliar bowl. Her apology for the nature of her arrival is stunted and laced with a panic she has to fight down with help from her rider. A tumult of that panic mixed with the fear of going Between not fully ready leaks from her which is a testament to what must have driven her from her home-Weyr. « Too fast, » she's saying, as Elise dismounts dressed in a nightgown under her flight jacket. Her boots hit the ground, their laces loose and flapping as she runs to Aedrielth's head to comfort her as best she can. Then she turns to look at Azaylia, pulls her helmet off and her hair is wild around her face with its flushed cheeks and parted lips. "She rose," she gasps out, and one hand reaches back without her looking for her queen. "We didn't know." A shiver shakes her and she blurts out, "I'm sorry we came. I didn't know..." Azaylia is stumbling down her steps, not intending to wait for Elise or pull her away from her obviously upset gold. Hraedhyth shifts restlessly, mantling her wings as she looks to the sky with snarl, as if the cause for Aedrielth's upset may have followed her. It must be telling, when Azaylia hears the cause for such panic, that the senior queen's head snaps back to the Fortian pair. "No, no no! It's fine. Hraedhyth didn't make things worse?" She hopes. Azaylia steps closer, arms reaching to offer comfort unless otherwise shooed away-- Elise wouldn't be the first. It's instinctive. "You got away. Both of you..?" What with there being two junior queens to evacuate. Hraedhyth looms at her ledge's lip, intense gaze settling on her granddaughter, « You may take my den tonight. » A sentiment shared by her lifemate, as Azaylia's gaze inspects Elise from head to toe, "Do you want a cup of tea? Something stronger?" « Thank you, » Aedrielth lilts, whispering, exhaustion edging in now. « I just... need time. » And to take the proverbial knee, as she does now, lowering herself down onto one elbow, her other paw curled down against the ground and her head lowered. Breathe. "Worse? No, please. Don't worry." It sounds distracted, that request, but once she's sure that her lifemate isn't going to evaporate or explode she can focus more easily on Azaylia, accepting that open-armed comfort with a whoosh of an exhale. "We got away. I had enough time to tell Lilah, I don't know where they went. If it hadn't been for N'muir... oh, N'muir." That last is murmured, her hand lifting to press against her forehead. She pulls away but only just enough and for the offer of something stronger she nods quickly. "Yes that would be very nice. Just a little shaky. I can go, in a bit, if you... if she, I mean, if... I can figure it out. I'm sorry I just... you're the only person who would understand." Hraedhyth offers a low rumble as she watches Aedrielth lower herself, aborting a half-lunge when she realizes the other gold is lying down, not falling. When she actually approaches, it's much smoother, leaping down and lumbering to sniff and nose about Aedrielth's hide. If she's not shooed away, Hraedhyth intends to keep her company while she catches her breath. Azaylia gives Elise a quick squeeze, relaxing her arms and only offering support if needed. "Good. That's good." She'll slowly lead Elise toward the stairs up to her weyr, giving a quick shake of her head, "I'd prefer if you stayed. It would give me peace of mind, knowing you're both safe while Elaruth has her fun." Still Azaylia. "I have whiskey... oh. And there's some rum left." Her smile is soft, encouraging, "Goldriders have to stick together, when we can." And though she's still somewhat sleep addled, there's a curious note as she echoes, "N'muir?" Hraedhyth's attentions are welcomed if not reciprocated, at least at first, Aedrielth trying as best she can, once she's regained enough of herself, to nose back at the other queen but gently, maybe even playfully at times. And while she's under the senior gold's watchful care, Elise allows herself, after one look back to make sure, to be led away and up to the stairs. "Thank you," she says at last, giving in to Azaylia's hospitality. "Fun," is echoed back with a ghost of a rueful smile. "Indeed. Oh. Whiskey." That was decisive. "Please. And yes. We do." Now it's a real smile that she directs up at the other goldrider, a smile that fades as quickly as it came when the Weyrleader's name is brought back up. "Yes. He came to warn me." Somehow the clipped words and flat tone suggest something. "It is fun," Azaylia insists, although not unkindly. "It can be. Not with other golds around, of course." In the weyr, her low fire will be stoked for the autumn night and a groggy Bones will be shooed to her bedroom so that they can have the couch. Nodding toward the hairy, mountainous gardener shuffling away, "Don't mind him." She's prompt in finding the bottle of whiskey as well as a glass for Elise, as well as putting on a pot for tea. She's a flurry of maternal activity, noticeably slowing at the younger goldrider's tone. Leaning over to open the whiskey, her too-steady gaze finds Elise, "Aedrielth doesn't look hurt. Are you?" Hraedhyth will huff in amusement at the other queen's nosing, eventually settling next to Aedrielth to offer physical support along with her rolling drums. Elise still doesn't look all that convinced on the subject of fun, but she doesn't argue it further. Once they're inside she has a look around with a distinct lack of scrutiny. She's curious if anything. Especially about Bones, who she smiles at with a lift of her eyebrows; that smile threatens a grin when he shuffles away, and those eyebrows are directed at Azaylia. "Who is he?" she asks, amused and maybe a little teasing. She sits where he was sleeping, a little apologetic about it because sleeping, and looks down at herself as if just now noticing... "I couldn't even put pants on? Really now." With a hand to her forehead she looks up and shakes her head, sharing her own disbelief. "We're okay. Shaken up a little." That hand drops and with a shrug she adds, "It's just so... what happened? Hattie would never leave us in the dark about something like this, no way." She's very adamant about that. "He's Bones." Azaylia answers with ease, not oblivious to that teasing tone. "He's my friend. A good friend." Possibly her best friend, as far as big hairy men went. "He slept on my couch, once, and has ever since." Which may seem odd, but no more than the painted skulls and splintered bones decorating the rest of her weyr and Hraedhyth's wallow. With whiskey poured, it's pushed toward Elise, "You were in a hurry, obviously." The Weyrwoman gently picks a path around her table, settling onto the corner of the couch and eases back with a sigh. "I honestly don't know. I... if Hattie had known, you'd have known." She agrees. "But I don't know how she could... I mean. Things have been hectic, but she's usually so..." And for a moment, it seems as if there are two juniors at a loss. Clearing her throat, "You'll have to ask her, after." "I see," Elise lilts with a tip of her chin upwards, that little smirk lingering. It's all in play, and she abandons her light poking when the whiskey shows up. She takes it with a grateful murmur and takes one large, hearty gulp, which is braver than what comes after: a pained, regretful grimace. But as is the way with whiskey, the burning clears a path for the warm, comfortable feeling, and she uses that to steel herself. Still, she'll be drunk in no time. "I'll ask her, yes. I'll have to talk to her about it anyway. About everything." Her eyes, darker somehow than normal, stare without intention and with slightly drooping eyelids at her glass while the tip of her finger traces the rim. Something is tugging at her from the inside, something that she doesn't bring up. Outside, Aedrielth cosies in with her grand-dam and leans on her, taking now what she would never think to take normally, physical comfort and closeness. "Mmhm. If you want a more scandalous story, just ask any of the Aunties in the caverns." It's obvious she's used to the teasing, given her impish smile. "How it's 'just not proper'." Never mind that the same could be said for much of what the goldrider does. She'll keep Elise well supplied tonight, certainly not a judgmental hostess as the Fortian does her best to burn away her troubles. "I'll likely want to visit, before the eggs are on the sands..." It's a trailing thought, one born of concern for Hattie and the need to check up on her. After, there's silence. Azaylia watches the younger woman, concern fading into a gentle curiosity as she finally reaches over to touch Elise's shoulder. "What's wrong?" Somewhere in the back of Elise's distracted mind she probably will file that away, 'ask the Aunties'. Maybe she will then! For now though she's much too troubled, and Azaylia's touch startles her out of that deep, dark thought she was having. She looks over at the other goldrider, and it's strange how she looks almost... put-off by being touched, even though they were so close just a moment ago. "I'm sorry," she says finally, relaxing all at once. After another big gulp and a grimace she shakes her head and leans forward with her elbows on her knees. It takes some consideration and weighing of the consequences before she cracks. "I think that if he hadn't left, N'muir would have... I mean we would have..." One hand floats to her arm, recalling the now-ghost of a grip. "It was like a dark fog." While affectionate, Azaylia's touch retreats when Elise looks at her, extra considerate due to her concern. Quick to soothe, "It's fine. Really." There's no insistence from the Weyrwoman other than her patient gaze, eyes occasionally losing focus when pulled into her own thoughts. Unsure of the circumstance, she can only deal in gently spoken facts. "But you didn't. You probably would've. Could've. Gold Fights do that, and not just to the ones chasing or being chased." But of course Elise must knows this, so she doesn't press. "From what I've heard, he's Hattie's." Through and through. However, "If something had happened... Well. We're dragonriders." Just because she doesn't partake doesn't mean Azaylia isn't familiar with the harsher side of monogamy. "We didn't. But we could have." They agree on that point for sure. "M'icah wasn't there, he's on sweeps. I was alone. He wouldn't let me go." Elise furrows her brow upon remembering that, and that hand curls around her bicep and tightens. "I tried to pull away, he held me fast and I didn't even mind. It was like I wanted him to..." That particular line of thinking is no help and she cuts it short, giving her head another quick shake. "More than that, if he had stayed he wouldn't have been where he needed to be. With Hattie. And what if Bijedth hadn't been there to catch? What if Aedrielth had gone up?" A shiver runs through her and she gives Azaylia that dark stare. "N'muir has to be Weyrleader." For some reason she doesn't elaborate on this is very important. But she moves on. "Anyway, he did leave. And he took the fog with him. Thank you Azaylia, really. For taking me in." Now, a little more herself, she gives the Weyrwoman a semi-dopey little smile. Azaylia is politely intrigued, and thankfully not the type to spread rumors. N'muir and Elise's could-have isn't going beyond the walls of her weyr. And so, "Nothing happened." It's firm, meant to comfort and alleviate whatever misplaced guilt there might be. Dark stare is met with soft intensity, not understanding but accepting, "If it's meant to be, it'll be. N'muir has never struck me as a poor Weyrleader. He and Hattie seem a perfect fit." A united front, as far as this 'Reachian Weyrwoman can tell. With a warm smile for Elise, "Of course. How could I turn you away? I wouldn't." Just in case it sounds like duty is all that matters. "Come on. Finish your drink and I'll see if there's anything sweet in the kitchens for us." Whiskey and sweets right before bed. Now it's a proper sleep over. "When you're ready, I'll move Bones for you." Guests get the bed to themselves-- unless Elise is comfortable sharing between the ex-con and Azaylia. Nothing happened. It's all she needed, that one last affirmation, to at least ease her past that terribly awkward moment of her life. Not forgotten, or gotten over, but gotten past and that's good enough for now. That warm smile is met and matched, the Fortian slumping over and giving a few big nods that flip her hair around a little. That whiskey might have gotten to her. Maybe. A little. At that urging though, even if she doesn't really need more, she tosses back that last swallow and turns the corners of her mouth down. Once she's set the glass down she stands up and announces, "Fabulous idea," to the weyr, then promptly clamps her hand over her mouth beneath big eyes and lifted eyebrows. Oops, Bones. "He doesn't have to move, he's sleeping," is what she's saying as she follows Azaylia to wherever there might be food. |
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