Logs:Revelations
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| RL Date: 23 June, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia, Iolene |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iolene drops in on Azaylia, offering her an ear, a shoulder, and notes, as well as reassurances that not everyone is born to be a goldrider. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 1, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Brieli/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| It's night time, presumably when the weyrlings have some free time, and Iolene's blonde head peeks around the entrance to the training cavern, followed shortly by her less-than-lean frame. She's in that not showing, but not quite all slim and slender stage and there's a distinct softening to her high-boned facial features. Clearly, she's looking, those dark eyes skipping past a trio of weyrlings with a distracted wave and distant smile, before she ventures further in with steps and a clearing of her throat. "Ah-, do you know where I might find Azaylia?" A set of hides is clutched to her chest. Weyrlings may talk, but Iolene's arrival circulates far too quickly for it to be anything other than the dragonet gossip network. Those few who might care, and Hraedhyth is such a beast. Her pale head makes a sudden appearance, the rest of her somewhat filled out frame lurching forward with something of a lazy trot. Azaylia isn't far behind, surprise written plainly on her face to suggest that the gold hasn't given her much warning before moving to greet her dam's rider. "O-oh. Iolene. Hi." A welcoming glance, though her eyes quickly dart back to Hraedhyth, gauging her mood. "You wanted me?" Blue eyes a'whirling, Azaylia relaxes and gives Iolene most of her attention. Iolene has the grace to look apologetic at the trio she's passing by as Azaylia comes into view, but it's Hraedhyth's rider that warrants a sudden, if wane, smile on the blonde islander's face. "I'd meant to come by earlier to see how you were doing, especially in the aftermath of-," the low voice skips a beat and the unpleasantries she's implying will just have to be assumed upon as Io doesn't elaborate further. "But I've been feel so awful and under the weather off and on, and this weather... well-." Excuses rambled leaves Io with nothing left but another scrunched face. "I did want to come see you, all of you," is said a little bit louder, not that the trio of weyrlings working through the theories of gliding seem to notice. "How... how've you been?" Azaylia is quiet as Iolene feels the need to explain her absence, though there's a small smile for the younger but senior goldrider. "Io." Voice typically soft, it's even more so with understanding. She tilts her head and reaches with forgetful fingers towards her hair, startled into stopping when there's nothing to run her digits through. Her hands drop heavily, folding in front of her as the weyrling straightens up and gently clears her throat. "It's okay. I probably wouldn't have been very good to talk to, earlier on." Hraedhyth huffs at the subtle blame, dropping herself roughly onto the ground in order to lounge near both of them. "Uhm. Fine." She answers, not quite rehearsed but clearly a default. "How have you been?" There may be some guilt- it isn't as if she's had time to seek Iolene out, either. "Ysavaeth says she tries to check in, but only at night, when you guys might not be too busy." Iolene's look back over her shoulder is fleeting, a reflexive attempt to seek out her own dragon, that's nowhere in the vicinity, before she's looking back to Azaylia. "I... Oh, I think I've been better in my life before. No one ever told me that-," the teenager purses her lips and shakes her head. Those hides she clutches are held a little tighter to her body. "I'm a little more tired than usual but I'm doing pretty well overall. K'del-, he mentioned the other night that you were having some trouble adjusting to being... well, a goldrider." A glance for her dragon, and Hraedhyth may turn her head slightly away though it's a playful motion. "So that's what that is." Azaylia's eyes are bright with momentary realization, "It's something Hrae doesn't like to share sometimes." Greedy gold. Not that she minds, obvious from the small smile at her dragonet's antics. Lips settle in a concerned look for Iolene, head gaining a slight tilt in the opposite direction from before, "A-are you sure? I mean..." Hesitant and easily distracted, eyes dropping to the hides though it takes her a moment longer to catch up. "Oh!" She exclaims softly, "Yes. I, kind of forget that I'm supposed to be one, sometimes." Despite the big, breathing reminder right next to them. Hands venture forward, curious, though they don't try to take the hides as she tentively wonders, "How is K'del?" "He thought-, no," the lanky goldrider straightens herself to take ownership of this, "I thought I could help by dropping in and talking with you a little if you had the time. Or at least," she glances back at the trio of studying weyrlings, "Maybe you could come to my weyr sometime if Hraedhyth will allow, to chat. In the mean time, here." The stack of hides are thrust over at Azaylia's held out hands. "Those are all the notes I made when I studied on my own back in weyrlinghood. I'm not a very good goldrider, I mean, I'm not a weyrwoman and I don't really know anything a weyrwoman should do, but I did learn as much as I could about High Reaches and its history and what happened and it's probably pretty heavily slanted for High Reaches Hold. But there's other stuff there too." Iolene, for all her island upbringing, has lovely, legible handwriting. It's written bullet point style without an excess of details, just the bare facts. "Oh, he's... I think he's a little sad he won't be Weyrleader anymore, whenever one of the other golds rises." Azaylia takes the stack of hides, finger flipping the corner of a few to better grasp what she's been handed. "Oh, Io." Breathless from surprise this time, she smiles brightly once her head lifts up to the other goldrider. "Thank you. These'll help me so much, and Brieli, too." Thoughts instantly go to the other history-challenged weyrling. "And I'd love to visit, when I can." The embrace is sudden but surprisingly gentle, Azaylia wrapping an arm around Iolene and pressing cheek to cheek for only a short moment. There isn't a complete flip from happy to sad, though her excitement is dulled at word of Io's thoughts on K'del. "I don't blame him. He's been the Weyrleader since I first came to Reaches." Fingers flick through the notes, though she's not really reading. "But it's kind of sweet Cadejoth won't chase Rielsath." The bronze's loyalty is well known, it seems. Iolene, queen of impulsive hugs, seems somehow surprised to be on the receiving end of one, but not unpleasantly so. No, her pale features light up at the arms about her, as her own respond in kind with an affectionate squeeze for the once apprentice. "If you need anything though, you should feel free to ask me. I don't know much about being a weyrwoman or how to handle the lower caverns, other than what my grams taught me," which somehow makes sense in Io's head, even if there isn't any other explanations, "But I've been where you are. Completely... ignorant of anything that should matter and feeling this awful weight on my shoulders that I needed to live up to someone's expectations. The exiles, who saw me as someone who could take charge, the other people who wanted to see me fail, and then what Tradition dictates." The capital letters are practically heard in the emphasis of her voice. "But... none of it matters as long as you and your dragon are happy and copacetic." "We are." Azaylia speaks with only mild hesitation when before she might take much longer in claiming harmony between she and Hraedhyth. The gold has relaxed in her sentry duty, gaze turning away from them in order to see what her siblings are up to. "It really does sound like you know." Relief is obvious in the weyrling's voice, replacing Iolene with the hides and hugging them tight to her chest. "I just want to do things right. Hraedhyth chose me for a reason..." The unspoken right? is only given a moment to hang between them before she begins again. There's some worry, brows pinching and voice a touch fearful, "Who would want you- o-or anyone to fail? Who could?" Clearly the idea hasn't crossed Azaylia's mind, or if it has she's forgotten it now. Iolene's striking face tenses, and she finds distraction in Hraedhyth's movements. Those dark eyes of her watch what the gold does, particularly with her siblings, rather than look to Azaylia. "Why do you think I wasn't trained to be a weyrwoman, even though that's what tradition dictates? And why I fly in the Weyrleader's wing rather than the queens' wing?" Freed of those hides, a finger reaches up to twirl the loose hair about her shoulders in nervous habit. "Do you- do you really think Rielsath will be the next gold to rise?" As she inquires, Io turns to find Azaylia. "The caverns try not to gossip too loudly in my ear, but I can still hear things. I'm not that daft. People seem to think it's an easy toss up between any three of you." Azaylia takes a moment to ponder Iolene's words, eyes staring into middlespace in concentration. Hraedhyth may sense eyes on her and swings her head back over, lazily peering at her Dam's rider with an exhaled snort of acknowledgement. "I dunno. The same reason you didn't have to get your hair cut?" But then it clicks, and she realizes the connection between her earlier words. "Oh. Tiriana." It's slow, but she gets there eventually and looks pained at the subject at hand. She watches that pale finger with a touch of longing, though her eyes politely slide to catch Io's as she turns. "Why wouldn't she be?" This time the answer doesn't elude her for too long, fingers suddenly clutching the hides much harder as her knuckles pale. Hraedhyth jerks her head, snarling at nothing but the sudden surge of emotion between their bond. "Between..? No, Hraedhyth is just a baby." The laugh is weak, denile obvious even to Azaylia. Ysavaeth's reach is just as instinctive as Hraedhyth's reaction to Azaylia's surging emotions, cued by Iolene in a similar fashion, and the lullaby that's usually reserved for later in the night vibrates in the coddling the dam gives her daughter. It's the faintest feeling rather than tangible notes, of that lullaby. "Because it's an Interval? Because... golds don't usually rise so quickly, though I was reading some harper notes the other day that Elaruth of Fort rises with a lot more frequency than expected." The last, spoken with somewhat pensive tones ends in a very audible sigh, a manifestation of Io's mixed emotions on the subject. "Ysavaeth could let Cadejoth chase, I imagine, but there's a distinct difference between could and will." Even as her dragon works to soothe her daughter, Iolene seems a little more willfully oblivious to Azaylia's denial. Hraedhyth is confused by Azaylia's sudden rejection, momentarily blamed simply for being what she is. Confusion is on the cusp of anger just as Ysavaeth reaches out, at first the attempt to soothe drowned out by ominous drums. It lasts all of a split second, the gold breathing hard as red is forced from her whirling eyes by mother gold and her weyrling's own attempts to remain calm. "W-well, but!" Yes, so articulate. "Rielsath is older and has had eggs already, right?" As if that means anything against the points Iolene makes. "K'del said Cadejoth won't, anyway. But that... Hraedhyth doesn't even notice boy dragons." The dragon in question is far too distracted to comment, though her age makes the weyrling right. For now. "It's gonna be months and months and months- forever before she wants to breed." Typical beastcrafter, "So that gives Rielsath lots of time. Or Ysavaeth, even! Like Elaruth?" Desperation, thy name is Azaylia. Suddenly, whether it be by dragon pointer or just looking and hearing at what's in front of her, Iolene snaps out of whatever pensive thoughts her question and this line of questioning in general has shadowed upon her and truly sees Azaylia's distress. "Oh, Azaylia." Such a change from when people say it to her so constantly. The hand with a lock of hair wrapped around one of its fingers drops, leaving a springy little curl in its wake, and reaches out for the weyrling's upper arm to squeeze gently. "I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't think this was-, I..." Without knowing just what to say to make the other woman feel better, Iolene stammers through a few false starts before finally just stating, "Maybe it will be Ysavaeth. Like Elaruth did." A flare of brightness colors her dark eyes as the lashes lift and a lit glow lightens them. "Or Rielsath," though this addition is a split second too belated. "I promise." "But definitely not Hraedhyth." Azaylia adds, shifting the hides in order to rest a hand atop Iolene's. "And not Iesaryth, either." Just as Rielsath is a late thought, so is Brieli's gold, though the reason behind that is hers alone. Selfish concern is shed once she realizes it, and the weyrling forces a smile on her lips, "No, no. I was going to have to find out eventually..." Words tremble with forced strength. "It just kind of proves that I'm bad at this." An accepted fact, though her grip on the notes tighten with subtle determination. "Thanks, Io. And thanks to Ysavaeth." Words are quiet between the two, as Hraedhyth is distracted by familiar feelings. "I think I almost hurt her feelings." Lips twitch in a guilty frown, though the crisis is averted with the older dragon's help. "No one... no one is really good at this, I think," tells Iolene to Azaylia. "We just kind of figure it out as we go along and then hope for the best." Which is such a resounding endorsement of the entire system of Weyr leadership. The hand at the weyrling's upper arm squeezes one last time, but doesn't withdraw, climbing to the other woman's shoulder to pat and then drops. A glance shifts to Hraedhyth and a small, not-smile, smile floats to Io's lips. "I once told someone I wish I had never Impressed. Ysavaeth wouldn't speak to me for days. It was awful. She knew what I meant and... we've come to terms since then, but I didn't- I mean. Ysavaeth isn't the kind of dragon you think would get hurt so easily, and what I said was almost unforgiveable." The blonde girl takes a step back, rocking on her heels. "It'll work out. She found you for a reason, and it sounds so cheesy, but I've come to believe it's true. They find us for reasons we can't even begin to understand while weyrlings." Azaylia parts her lips to perhaps argue with the goldrider's sentiment, instead letting out a delicate sigh. The escaping air is snatched back in a gasp at the confession, though it's not enough to break Hraedhyth out of her content mood. "Oh no." Dismayed for Iolene's sake, her eyes easily drift over to her own lifemate, testing out the hypothetical and finding that it doesn't fit. "I couldn't imagine, I-I mean, not now." Fingers reach up to brush back the bangs that frame her face, cut at the same length as the rest of her hair. "Sometimes I think she made a mistake. Like... I need her more than she needs me." But right now isn't one of those times, as the smallest of smiles rests on her lips. "Thank you again, Iolene. So, so much. For the notes. And... for telling me." Right now isn't one of those times, is a sentiment Iolene seems to comprehend, unspoken as it is, finding in that smallest smile and the little Ysavaeth must be sharing with her these thoughts. "It's really no problem. I should have come earlier. I- I think I understand better than most how you must be feeling. What you must be going through." Typically teenage self-absorption: no one else can understand! But somehow, Io says it without emo-stricken angst and her rich voice carries several genuine notes to it. "And- hey, if Ysavaeth does rise again soon, at least K'del can remain Weyrleader, right?" She must be joking, at least her voice is, even if her unfocused eyes seem to have already drifted off into another conversation with her dragon. "You hang in there and if you need anything, just ask. Or have Hraedhyth ask Ysavaeth. Or you know, come visit. Well, during the day at least." A pink flush colors her cheeks, but at least that glazed look disappears in favor of youth's delight. Azaylia clings desperately to the possibility of Ysavaeth rising again so soon, especially with an added benefiet. "Right! That'd be best for the Weyr, I think." And the passion behind her otherwise soft words actually has little to do with Hraedhyth, and rather her loyalty to High Reaches. She nods gently, her own eyes struggling to remain focused as Hraedhyth turns her attention onto Azaylia. "I will. We will. I- why?" Even as the words leave her lips, her eyes widen only to close and she lets her face fall into an open palm. "Nevermind." A squeak, sounding somewhat pained. "During the day. Got it." She peeks at Iolene through her fingers, the smile widening at her own momentary naivete. Iolene, for all the serious conversation this has been, has to giggle a little at that and there's an impulsive hug there for the former herder. "Have a good night, Az." The nickname falls easily from the blonde teenager's lips. "Ysavaeth says she'll stay with Hraedhyth as long as she'd like tonight." The lanky goldrider ambles out, her fingers wiggling at the trio of still studying weyrlings. |
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