Logs:Past It
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| RL Date: 8 May, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, Aislara, Elaruth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Hattie dwells and lodges her foot in her mouth. |
| Where: Galleries, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 10, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Nala/Mentions |
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| The hatching cavern remains one of the few places in the Weyr where absolute silence is actually achievable on some occasions, and this evening has, luckily for some, turned out to be one such occasion. That Elaruth investigates and inspects the Sands every so often is not uncommon knowledge, and her journey tonight has been made with the last of the day's light playing along pale hide as she vanishes from the bowl. She's still making her checks of everything at the moment, nosing here and there at sand that has been recently cleared of debris, her rider wearily observing the proceedings from the first row of seating. Hattie stands leaning against the railings, just out of reach of the true heat of the Sands, but close enough that her hair has begun to frizz even more than usual. Aislara doesn't need to have Ryerith seek out Elaruth, not when she can check various locations on her own. She's looked in a few other locations before she wanders into the Sands and her cheeks are flushed from her trek across the Weyr. Still, the sight of Hattie draws a smile from the greenrider as she makes her way towards the Weyrwoman's side. "Is she checking it all over again?" she queries instead of greeting Hattie. "Sometimes, I think she forgets that she's had a look at everything already," Hattie admits in answer, voice quiet so as to keep from creating any echo. "Not that it ever means anything less to her, even if she does remember we were here a few days ago. Keeping her from checking everything over would only upset her." She says this as Elaruth carefully creates a dip in the sand and settles herself into it, curling up nose to tail as best as her altered shape will allow. "...Maybe she'll sleep here tonight," she has to hazard with that sight in mind, though that thought is not voiced without a sigh. "Is there anything you need?" Aislara leans against a railing, resting her elbows against it and folding her hands upwards to cushion her chin as she watches Elaruth settle to sleep. The greenrider pushes back in surprise at Hattie's query and she shakes her head. "Oh, no...," she trails off, unable to hold back the flush that has nothing to do with the heat of the area. "I was.. just missing your company," she continues, shrugging as she takes a step backwards. "I can leave you alone if you're busy, though, I know there's a lot-- and probably you're tired-- and people," she continues to rush forward without pausing for breath, her thoughts scattering into the muddled mess of words she's saying. "I'm sorry." "...I'm sorry," Hattie murmurs, ducking her head a little. "That was uncharitable of me. It just seems that everyone wants something or needs something, or wants to complain, and it's becoming automatic to ask before anyone starts." She lifts her left arm, reaching to drape it across Aislara's shoulders in a hug that has her hand curling around her far shoulder. "Sorry," she says again, still quiet, a second, rare apology in so many moments. "...I don't even mind it. I don't think it's unreasonable. There's just no quick fix I can offer for anything." And then, whether it's habit or concern, she queries, "You're okay, though?" all the same. Aislara's steps are stalled by Hattie's arm and she stills her momentary feeling to flee. She settles down and leans into Hattie, falling into the security of that hug. "It's okay. I imagine it's a lot to handle, having the whole Weyr depending on you. It can be exhausting when the weyrlings are like that.. and their numbers are not nearly as much as you handle." She reaches a hand up to pat Hattie's hand in turn, blushing this time in the wake of the apology. She twitches a shoulder in a shrug. "I'm well enough," she shares, lifting her gaze up towards Hattie, "And you?" "I'd apologise in advance, but I don't think she'd want me apologising for her babies," Hattie says a little wryly. "She'll adore them even if they're needy as anything for months on end." She lifts her gaze back to the pale queen across the Sands, who has settled to sleep with one wing relaxed a touch to cast over her head like a blanket. For as long as Aislara seems comfortable, she keeps her arm curled lightly around her shoulders, yet weight might settle as times goes on. "Good," she answers softly. As for her, she hesitates, then admits, "...I don't know. I don't feel right." But: "As long as Elaruth's okay, life goes on." "There's nothing to apologize for," Aislara counters, shrugging again underneath the cover of Hattie's arm. The weight either isn't noticed or the closeness is welcome enough Aislara makes no move to remove the contact. Her frown is quick at the admittance and she looks more closely at Hattie, as if her gaze could deduce any of the Weyrwoman's ills. "What don't you feel right about?" she queries, voice soft and careful, as she doesn't want to pressure Hattie and have her not answer. "...It's ridiculous," Hattie huffs, casting her gaze upwards. "I can't even pin half of it down. I feel wrong, and I half thought it would really go away after she flew, but nothing's really changed." Another sound, not quite a bark of laughter. "One of the healers suggested it's just that I'm past it and every woman ends up like this. There comes a time when the body says you're not young anymore and it wants to prove it." She wrinkles her nose. "Well, it's added nausea to the list now, so as well as feeling like I'm half on fire and half exhausted and half incompetent, that's a joy." The Weyrwoman reaches that abrupt halt and colours a little. "...I don't think I meant to go on that much." Aislara is quiet during it all, her gaze thoughtful but her face otherwise betrays no real indication of her feelings on the explanation her question receives. She turns then and offers Hattie a hug of her own, squeezing her gently before she steps back and fully removes herself from physical contact. Her hands fold together and fall against her stomach as she watches Hattie for a moment more. "Aren't you.. too young for such things?" she asks, unsure of the timeline for that. "And you aren't pregnant?" The rest, the feeling incompetent, she doesn't ask further questions of. That would not be her place. "I think, if I were pregnant, they'd have been able to diagnose that by now," Hattie utters dryly, after returning the greenrider's hug and leaning back against the railings. "Given it's been months. If my understanding is anything like correct, it makes that highly unlikely now." There's a fine line beneath relief and bitterness in that moment, her expression all hard lines. "...Maybe it runs in the family. Maybe it's why my mother had her children so young. If she even knew. She certainly never told me, not that we ever really spoke... about things like that." Or much at all.. Laughter follows, wry now. "I don't imagine most women have an entire breakdown over it." That last statement draws a flicker of hurt over Aislara's features before she's able to contain her response. She shakes her head and twitches a faint smile forward. "I imagine not," she murmurs, turning to look out at the sleeping queen. "I hope, whatever it is, you can find an answer and some relief soon. It can't help, not feeling right and having all that's been going on... go on." She reaches forward to rest a hand on the rail and squeezes it lightly. "It makes everything hard when you aren't able to feel like yourself," she murmurs more to herself than to the Weyrwoman. "Do they have any suggestions, to help?" she asks louder, turning her gaze once more on Hattie. Realisation comes that second or two too late, as it has been all too often recently, and Hattie suddenly pushes away from the railings once she's clocked Aislara's reaction, blinking her eyes wide against the threat of anything ridiculous, like tears. "...I told you," she murmurs, shaking her head as she steps back. "I'm a fucking idiot," is lower still, hard-edged. "I'm sorry." A third time now. "That was... this is... entirely inappropriate. In more ways than one." She straightens her shoulders, drawing back as much as she can into her own bubble of space. "And thoughtless. It was thoughtless. I don't actually know why I'm still talking." It's definitely odd, for her. "I'll go." And so she turns to do so. Aislara's shock is clearly seen in the wake of Hattie's words. The greenrider has likely never heard the Weyrwoman swear nor behave as she is. For a moment, she remains rooted to the spot, blinking dumbly at Hattie as she goes to turn. "Stop!" she calls out, her tone authoritative without any thought behind the who she is speaking to. "Come here," she continues, gesturing towards a tier of seats. "Sit down," she pauses, adding, "Please." No blushing or stumbling remains in Aislara's countenance as she settles onto the bench and levels a frown at Hattie. "I'm fragile, sure, and that stung -- it always stings when people speak of something you don't get. But, you certainly don't need to be this upset. It's me. The girl who comes crying to you all the time over every little thing." Words of comfort or confession? She takes a breath and folds her arms in front of her chest. There's an unnecessary level of defiance in Hattie's gaze when Aislara tells her to stop, pride duelling with too many things to name, though she does, after a few moments, do as she's told, and sinks down into a seat. "...If you could tell my malfunctioning body that I don't need to be upset, we might get somewhere," she mutters, without any effort to conceal a miserable bitterness now. "It isn't even what I meant," the Weyrwoman insists. "I just figure that most women don't have a crisis over being sent haywire by a natural process. I miss logic, not my ability to produce children." She slants a look towards Aislara. "But it doesn't mean that I should sound so sharding entitled." A moment later, she dares, "...Have you not... tried? With someone other than Y'ral." That defiance seems to please Aislara more than upset her as she waits until Hattie is seated to address her again. "I am sure that it'll all return in due time. Perhaps, once Elaruth has laid her eggs, and you've got the privacy being in here may afford..," she tilts an ironic smile up at the Weyrwoman, "or the idea seems harder for some to traipse in her to nag at you with Elaruth there minding the eggs." Mention of Y'ral tightens the smile on the greenrider's face. "No, I.. I feel like.., it might not go so well. To be with a man." She colors at that mention and shrugs her shoulders as she folds her hands in her lap. Her focus falls to her clasped hands, looking there as a safer place for her gaze. "Or maybe it'll just mean fewer people for me to talk rubbish at," Hattie murmurs, though not without a touch of wryness this time. "If this carries on until the time it's supposed to happen, I think I'll go mad." She wrinkles her nose. "Though maybe if I go mad enough, I won't mind or know." And the not knowing her own mistakes sounds like the preferable option. Tilting her head a little, she keeps her focus on Elaruth rather than Aislara as she gently queries, "...Do you mean not well for you or for what other people might think?" "Rubbish or not, people care about you Hattie. If you need extra help.. or time away.. I know that Lilah," Aislara pauses, tightening her fingers together as she rallies her thoughts. "I know it's harder to take time away with Ali gone, but perhaps.. you and the Weyrleader can again. That may be all you need." That is her honest opinion and however naive or hopeful it is she turns a smile to the Weyrwoman. "You aren't going to go mad. You're too strong for that." She shakes her head at the question of her partners and rubs her thumb against her forefinger. "I, I don't know what people would think or who would even care about me.. I'm so insignificant even for the rumor mill to notice. I just.. the idea frightens me a bit. The idea of trying." "Lilah would be glad to see the back of me," Hattie says flatly. "I don't harbour any illusions about that. I do all that I can for her and all she ever remembers are the times I tell her no." Too late, again, she must realise what she's said, but she doesn't rush to take it back, acknowledgement only in the pressing of her lips into a thin line. "It doesn't matter. What blades I keep from her, she'll probably stab me with. At least I'm not blind to it. And N'muir--" But there's the line; she'll go no further. "I wouldn't be concerned about what the people you pass in the bowl might think... I mean... Are you more afraid for you, or of what Nala would think?" Aislara latches on to the distraction offered by the mention of Lilah and she sighs, rubbing her forehead briefly. "Those classes.. with Lilah, M'yvn, Elise...," and the redness that taints her cheeks in shame causes her to dip her chin downwards, "and Nala. We failed them." That the scars she reaches to touch in an unconscious gesture are also a failing of hers is not lost on the greenrider. Misery must love company for her intentions of focusing on Hattie alone are gone. Her youth.. or her nerves.. send her into shaking her head. "Nala beds others," she acknowledges bluntly. "It's.. I'nis and though Y'ral wasn't outwardly cruel.. and the men who caught Ryerith before..," her voice trails off as she looks out at the still slumbering gold. "Nala was the first person who wanted me for all that she saw." "There were... errors made," Hattie allows. "By all of us. Still, what happens to a person or what they become can't be the failing of only the people around them. Everyone makes choices." She levels a look at Aislara as she states, "It's not your fault," before her focus returns to her queen. Lapsing into silence for a short while, she gathers her thoughts before attempting to speak again. "...There are men... good men, who aren't as they or other men are during flights," she murmurs. "And I'm sure there are some who want children, but nothing more from a relationship, if what they might want concerns you. But... if it truly frightens you, you might be right to leave well enough alone." "I don't know. I.. I decided her next flight will remain open," Aislara replies and lapses into silence. She reaches for Hattie's hand to hold as she keeps her gaze focused on the Sands. "I'm worried about you. I know I can't truly help.. but I am always here for you. Even if all we do is go to Weaver and get dresses and ribbons." She turns a faint smile towards Hattie. "I am your friend. I stand beside you. No matter what." "...Maybe that will be the opportunity that you need." If she has any reservations about that course of action, she keeps them to herself, and chooses to just hold on tight to Aislara's hand. "Don't be," she murmurs. "I'll... figure it out. Maybe I need to listen to people when they tell me expecting order and perfection is foolish. Especially if either of them are things I can't achieve anymore." For just a moment, it sounds like she might crack beneath that acknowledgement, her voice wavering, but then her fingers tighten a little more and she tries to mirror Aislara's smile back at her. "You too. You know that, right?" A final glance to Elaruth finds the queen unlikely to move for the foreseeable, and so the Weyrwoman makes to get to her feet. "Come on, let's... go get a drink. Or something." Anything not to dwell. At least for today. |
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