Logs:Personal Consequences
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| RL Date: 15 June, 2014 |
| Who: K'del, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After H'vier and Tayte's fun turnover day evening, Tayte goes to K'del's, in theory to collect the scared/upset/tearful girls. Instead, Tayte is tearful and K'del is a friend, but how many times can they really do this? |
| Where: Weyrleader's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 1, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Kemmil/Mentions, Mira/Mentions, Tahvra/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Aaaaangst. Back-dated. |
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| When Tayte approaches in her sky blue cloak and carrying the girls' winter things that were neglected in favor of haste when they left the room earlier that evening, it's surely after the rider that was sent with the crafter to check on her has had a chance to relay back the state of things. But Tayte's cheek looks just fine now; well, sort of. If you don't look under the cosmetics, it's lovely. Cadejoth is greeted with a touch to whatever part of him is nearest to the walkway as she passes and a quiet murmur of, "Hey hero." She hasn't forgotten. Then it's squaring her shoulders and moving toward the inner weyr, not bothering to announce herself in hopes that Cadejoth has done it for her, in case one or both of the girls have fallen asleep after the emotional events of post-bedtime in the family room. Cadejoth's eyelids open as Tayte passes, whirling slowly as he watches the Vintner; he's still grounded, but improving, and for once there's no sign of his snappish temper, his desperate frustration. He huffs warm breath towards her: it's the best he can do. Inside, K'del's got the baby nestled in his lap, and Vali curled up beside him - the very picture of domestic bliss, if it weren't for tear-stains, and the look on his face as he glances up, studying Tayte's face - and not just her expression - without shame. He doesn't say anything; but then, does he need to? The look is enough to still Tayte as soon as she's seen it. The hard swallow is probably not as visible as she worries it is, but it has to happen before she can move toward the three. She doesn't speak until she's close enough to murmur. "I'm so sorry, Kas." How many times does this make it that she's apologized to him in recent memory? Too many, certainly. "I owe you an explanation." Only there's not one ready on her tongue to be given and she is having an awfully hard time meeting his eyes. K'del's still in his riding gear; one of his boots is unlaced. He looks tired, though that's hardly surprising, surely. "What's there to say, Tayte?" he answers, on an exhale. "That we haven't said before? How many times are you going to let him do this to you? To the girls?" His fingers stroke Vali's hair, smoothing it idly down. For a moment, Tayte looks hollow; like the vibrant woman that arrived at the Weyr some turns ago and happened to sit down at the Taiga Wing table by mistake has been worn down into a cheap imitation of what she once was. It's not attractive, and it probably just kills Tayte to know it. "It was Tavi's first turnday." She says it so softly, like it might somehow be a defense. "I thought that it would be okay, for just one night." Evidently, she was wrong. That hollowness? It probably breaks K'del's heart... just like H'vier's fist broke his lip (which is still visible, if now fading). It's probably unconscious, the way he lifts his hand towards his mouth, now, hovering there for a moment before dropping back to his side. "What am I supposed to say to that, Tayte? Am I supposed to be the bad guy, who tells you not to let the man see his daughter? Should I pay him off, if only he'll leave you alone?" "I don't know, Kas." Tayte would sound torn if she could muster up any unbroken piece of herself to be committed to any two or more emotions. But after the night she's had, she's drained. Her eyes are red from the tears that have already come and gone. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I didn't get to meet the love of my life and have a happily ever after," like a certain bronzerider in this room. She doesn't sound bitter, just sad. "I never love the right people the right way. I don't think paying him off would work. I don't know if there is a way out." She can't meet his gaze again. "The girls need to be safe." Maybe it doesn't even matter to her anymore about her own safety. "I think they should go somewhere for a while. It's not safe with me anymore. I'm not even sure it's safe with you." Only for a moment does K'del let his gaze slide towards the other cavern that makes up this weyr, and, perhaps, to the bathing chamber beyond: he's had his share of not-happily-ever-afters, and one of them, after all, died in there. It's not a point he makes out loud, though; he turns back, silent for long seconds as he considers Tayte. "There's always a way out," he says. "Always. My parents would have them." The offer is genuine, or sounds as much. "They'd have you, too. Grapes, wine: you could do some research or something. For a while. He wouldn't have to know where you were." Probably because they're talking about sending the girls away, Tayte's emotional reserves renew themselves. She looks more than torn. Tortured even. She's silent some long moments herself, and then, "Yes. They should go. To your parents. He'd find them with mine." After letting those words come out of her mouth, her arms have to wrap around her torso, squeezing Vali's and Tavi's winter coats against her, and a shudder that is probably a silent sob passes through her. The next moments are spent trying to get a handle on those feelings. "Tayte." K'del's voice is not much above a whisper, but there's heartfelt feeling in it - and something steely, too. "Come here." He has a free arm, after all, one not presently wrapped around their daughter; there's room for her on this couch, too. "We're going to work this out. Going to keep you all safe, okay?" She hesitates, but possibly because movement requires her to pull herself together if only to get one foot to go in front of the other. Tayte goes to him, curling herself in a near-exact copy of Vali's positioning. Her breathing is uneven for some moments more. It's some time before she can speak again. "I can't go with them. I just got back from the Hall, just got my job back," in Snowasis, "I don't want to lose my knot because of this. I can't keep asking for haituses. I can't keep justifying not doing what they want of me, even if I have really good reasons. I have to take care of them, provide for them." Clearly this much is important. K'del's arm moves to draw Tayte in against him, and to hold her, at least sideways, as she recovers herself enough to speak again. Her words don't seem to come as a surprise, though the bronzerider's sigh certainly implies that he wishes it were otherwise. "Stay in someone else's rooms," he suggests, with something of a plea in his tone. "Don't go places alone. Maybe you can't leave, but that doesn't mean you need to... you're important, Tayte. Report him to the Headwoman. Make it official. So we can help you, officially." Tayte's shoulders shake, but not with tears but a sad laugh that has no sound. "Giving the impression that I might be spending the night in any bed other than my own is probably a terribly dangerous idea." Which doesn't mean it's still not one of the best they have. The next has her looking up at him imploringly. "He's my daughter's father. Reporting him would ruin his life," the ramifications are far reaching. "Could you do it to someone you loved? No matter how foolishly?" She's probably not thinking of Iolene and the faked flight, but it's a ready enough example of a time K'del might've had to make the choice if things had gone differently. Plainly, K'del's thoughts do go to Iolene: his eyes close, he takes in a deep breath, and then he exhales again, forcing the air out in a harsh, sharp kind of way. "Yes," he says. "I could. And I would. You shouldn't protect him, Tayte. Love or no love. But--" Another sigh. "It's your decision. Find a friend who isn't likely to be seen as a potential love interest. Work something out. Sleep in the dorms if you need to. But... look after yourself, Tayte. He's made his own mess; it's not on you." Slowly, slowly Tayte nods. But then she's crying and it's all she can do to keep the tears silent. "I'll sleep in the dorms," comes just above a whisper when she can manage words. Then, "It's worse, knowing I'm letting you down on top of knowing I'm not strong enough to choose what you would have chosen." Or at least says he would have chosen. But even if he had, would he have had to give her up the way she would have to? It's so easy for K'del to say he would do something, something that is now so very hypothetical that it's scarcely realistic. And he knows it, as firm as he has been in his answer; no doubt that's part of the reason why he puts his arm around Tayte now and squeezes tight. "You're not letting me down," he says. "You're... it's not my place to judge. But I'm here for you. And tonight... you can all stay here, tonight. We'll worry about the rest of it tomorrow." It's really good that K'del makes the offer, because it would've been substantially more awkward that Tayte, when her tears subside, falls almost immediately asleep now that she's in the one place on Pern that might feel marginally safe to her: under her best friend's arm. How far they have come from those early days of doing similar. For all the good things that have come since, they certainly wouldn't wish to go back. But in light of the bad, maybe Tayte can be forgiven for dreaming about it just this once. Is K'del surprised? No, probably not. It's probably not all that comfortable for him in the long term, though, with these three warm bodies asleep on and across him; eventually, one by one, he'll put them all to bed. And each - not-daughter, daughter, best friend - get a kiss to the forehead, before he curls up to find his own rest. For now... for now he can keep them safe. |
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