Logs:Of False Smiles
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| RL Date: 4 September, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, N'muir, Elaruth, Harriet |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Where old habits are a bitter necessity. |
| Where: Weyrwoman's Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
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| She'd chosen a room in the bowels of the Weyr to try and finish the day's work, too tired of interruptions and questions about this rumour or that to know that she would get through her too long list of tasks, and too sure that she would manage some of it before venting her frustration at the next person to bother her. « Hattie... Enough now, » Elaruth gently told her, on the cusp of sleep. Just another half an hour, darl. Just like the other half hour, and the other, and the other... When she finally dragged herself up the steps and home, she found N'muir sat on the couch with Harriet snug against his chest, their little girl fast asleep. A soft, unbidden smile slowly spread across her lips, and yet she found the threat of tears came with it and forced herself to school her features into more neutral lines, just to ensure that she didn't let those tears fall. She should be there with them. She should have been there with them. For all that N'muir was spending long hours assisting the holders with their harvests, as was the routine he had fallen into long ago, he still seemed to be home of an evening before she was. She could ferry Harriet around with her all she liked, but it wasn't the same as spending time with her. The time she had anticipated spending with her children, her weyrmate and their lifemates just... didn't exist. Even when she and N'muir had both had their knots and had spent time in the council room shouting at and arguing with each other, they had been... together. Even on the occasions when they hadn't spoken for hours after. Definitely in the instances when the heat of argument had turned into an entirely different kind of heat. Now... Her smile was forced, but at least its artificial nature continued to keep her tears at bay. Hattie dropped her satchel at the foot of the couch and leaned to press a kiss to her weyrmate's lips, then to their daughter's cheek. The girl she had surrendered her knot for and promised herself she would dote on, not only for her, but for Elaruth's nameless daughter. Sometimes, she swore that Harriet's cries echoed the tiny, lost green's. "I'm going to take a bath." There were no enquiries after the falseness of her smile; N'muir knew her too well for that. She smiled and did her best to pretend, and in return he didn't ask, acknowledging her act for what it was with his lack of words. In the steam of the bathing room, it was easy to fool herself into thinking that she didn't know whether or not she wept. |
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