Logs:Seven And A Half Turns
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| RL Date: 12 November, 2014 |
| Who: K'del, Lilah |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: For her turnday, Lilah wants to go home. It doesn't go as hoped. |
| Where: Western Island / Keroon Beasthold / Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 4, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions |
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| It has been a long, draining day and it shows where the gold pair appears from Between. Dark circles shade softly under Lilah's eyes, hair gone unwashed and only pulled away from her face in a desperate desire to do anything with it. It is hard to tell any difference in Eliyaveith's dark hide, but it is there, subtle to anything but a longer examination. In the way the queen lands and hunkers, though; it is there. Still, none of this stops the purpose that brings the goldrider to meet the bronzerider, to settle first with a glass of his whiskey and the necessary exchange of greetings. She doesn't put it off long, not even long enough to talk about what has happened, before she tells him: "I want to go home. For my turnday adventure, this time." Cadejoth and his rider are already present when the Fortian pair arrive, and though the bronze has been enjoying the strong winds, he drops towards the ground as they do, hesitating close to Eliyaveith as if to say 'if you want to hunker with me, that'd be okay.' It may be, from the solemnity of K'del's gaze - even if his mouth aims for something less serious - that he's already aware; both, however, show genuine surprise at what follows. "Home?" And then, "You want me to go with you, then." It's definitely surprise rather than, well, dismay, though he's quick to take a long sip from his glass, too. "I need someone to come with me," replies Lilah with only that hint of correction, too proud, perhaps, to let it stand as a want. Her glass is rolled under her fingers as she considers the bronzerider across from her, a frown tugging as a natural habit at the corners of her lips before she takes another slow sip. Her words are carefully chosen as she adds, "But-- I need to know that you won't say anything about going or what may happen or what you may hear." Eliyaveith hunkers with Cadejoth, shares a soft greeting and even softer brush of her tail against his. K'del accepts the correction without comment, his subtle nod the only indication though those eyes are still watching Lilah carefully. A breath gets sucked in through his teeth, held there for one beat, two beats, three, then exhaled, whistling. "All right," he says. "You've my word on it, though... can't promise I won't be asking you if it's as--" If it's as she says, clearly there will be questions worth asking. "How long's it been since you last went?" Cadejoth's a better flyer than cuddler, as inclined to wiggling as he is, but his tail nudges at hers, almost like a pat: there there. Lilah's teeth catch only briefly at her lower lip, a second before she seems to realize it and abandon the gesture quickly. Nevertheless, it takes her a moment to answer, "Seven and a half turns. And I do not promise any answers. I suppose I shouldn't even bring you, but--." She pauses, those dark eyes narrowing thoughtfully on K'del before she continues, "I trust you to keep your word. And I do not want to drag my other friend into more trouble than I already seem to." Eliyaveith, on the other hand, is certainly a grounded creature, no wiggling or twitching. She makes an excellent cuddler, though she's not pressing for them now. "Reckon I'll take that as 'because you can take care of yourself and stay out of trouble,'" says K'del, aiming for light despite his still-serious expression. "And not an indication that you think I need trouble." Really, though, he's much more focused upon the rest of what the goldrider has said, his own teeth resting for a moment on his lip before he takes another drink. "That's a long time not to visit." "I haven't been welcome," Lilah answers simply, her words stripped of the weight of emotions that linger behind dark eyes, as if she were talking about tithe numbers or records. "Hopefully, she changes that, but she may not." But, his lightness does manage to draw up dry wit where the goldrider counters, "It depends on whether trouble can be accumulated over a lifetime, or if it should be spread out. Because, I would say I have never seen you with enough trouble." That wit brings a dubious lift of the eyebrows from K'del: not enough trouble? Hardly. But it's the rest that draws the line of his mouth tighter - tight, but not disapproving. Again, he sucks in a breath, holds it, releases it. "Hope she does," is simple, but apparently genuine. For now, it doesn't get followed up with a question, though he does murmur, "A lot can change in seven turns." Lilah lifts her whiskey to finish off the glass, setting it down lightly on his table before she assures him, "I will try my best to keep you out of trouble. In any case, you can always walk away if things go badly. I won't hold it against you." On that positive note, the goldrider rises to her feet in one fluid movement, a small smile offers to the Weyrleader as she starts to refasten her flight jacket and prepare for the jump Between on her way towards her waiting dragon. It is Eliyaveith that shares the image of their destination with Cadejoth: a rolling prairie hold built out of a jutting red rock, additions made with stones dragged from further away and made glaring obvious by their difference in color. For all that it has been built upon, it still likely can't house more than four or five large families. Red Butte is glimpsed on the horizon, marking this small hold near Keroon. Positive note or no, it seems to be Lilah for whom K'del is concerned, and not himself; his gaze follows her, watching closely. It's several seconds after she's risen that he joins her on his feet, draining his own glass and setting both of them aside to be cleaned later. Cadejoth's eager for the image, far more eager than his rider, though K'del's not hesitant to refasten the bronze's straps, and prepare for the trip. « I have it, » Cadejoth promises. « We will see you there? » He's already aloft, wings outstretched to give him altitude quickly. Clearly, this is something to be decisive about. Eliyaveith worries at that image, sharpening each edge of rock as she waits for her own rider to mount and fasten herself. But then she agrees, « Yes. » She is slower to take to the air, not as quick as Cadejoth in a way that can't all be attributed to the difference in build and size. Once she has, though, she blinks Between with a confidence in her destination. And on the other side, spring lays beautifully over the prairie that makes up Red Cairn Beasthold, just as Eliyaveith's image gave a hint of promise to. It has encroached upon the hold itself, as years pass without Thread, growing right up to the large metal door that is left ajar as those herders that live here go about their work. It is a little girl that stops first, her gaze drawing upwards to the dragons, eyes wide as a queen starts to land here. It's hard to miss Cadejoth's enthusiasm for this New Place, a place where the breezes are different and ripe for experimentation; if Eliyaveith's landing catches that little girl's attention, no doubt Cadejoth's trumpet of glee will catch others'; how can he resist? It takes him longer to circle downwards, of course, and to settle himself upon the ground alongside the queen. K'del's eyes hunt for details; the girl, yes, but also the hold itself, the prairies, the blueness of the sky. His shoulders straighten. Whether these herders recognize Cadejoth's trumpet for what it was is doubtful, as it startles them from their work, pulling their attention to the dragons even as that little girl starts to approach fearlessly. Lilah's features are written here, everywhere. Dark, suspicious eyes that narrow in the man that breaks to the front of the approaching holders; the copper curls of the little girl; the soft line of a woman's jaw who moves to scoop up girl. That woman is the one who gasps out a, "Lilah." The man pushing forward snaps, "Don't be ridiculous, woman." But, his gaze over the dragonriding pair stops on the goldrider, forcing himself to look away only to offer to K'del, "Weyrleader, our duties," before returning a hard stare at Lilah. The goldrider only murmurs in turn, "Mother, Kirke. This is K'del of High Reaches and his Cadejoth. And Eliyaveith." She glances back, only briefly, towards the anxious dragon behind her. As the holders approach, K'del's gaze falls instantly towards Lilah, and perhaps it would linger there forever, watching for her reaction, but he's spent too much time with the Weyrleader's knot; his chin lifts, and he dismounts, stepping towards the holders with his hand outstretched. "And our duties to you and your hold. You've a fine situation here. Lilah did say it was beautiful, but I'd no idea." For once, Cadejoth manages to be both silent and still, though those big eyes whirl as he turns his attention down on the little girl; watching. Lilah's attention lingers on that little girl for a moment, even as she wiggles to be free of her mother's grip. "Dragons, mommy. I wanna see the dragons," she whines, quietly, seemingly not feeling enough of the tension to realize she should stay quiet. The man talks over her, anyways, "I wouldn't trust whatever she has told you, Weyrleader. Whatever lies she has spread. Is that what you've done, Lilah? You can't have gone and told him the truth, or he wouldn't be standing there with you." He commands to a wide-eye teenage boy, snapping, "Run to the Butte. Don't come back until you bring their Harper. Tell him we have a murderer here." "No, Kirke." Lilah's words ring with an echo of his command, grown accustomed in her own way to being listened to. "Stop. You have to let me explain. You don't know--." She doesn't look to K'del, but whether she's forgotten him in this moment or can't is a question for debate. Eliyaveith quivers with shared tension, claws biting into the soft ground. K'del manages, somehow, not to flinch at the word: murderer. What he does instead is square his shoulders and say, "May I remind you, sir, that you are speaking to - and of - a weyrwoman of Fort Weyr." There's a sharpness to his tone; an intense level of authority that certainly puts him on level with Lilah and Kirke. Cadejoth reaches out a tendril of thought towards Eliyaveith, comforting in his own way, though there's a discordant jangle to his chains. "Whatever her past, she holds that position; or do you not acknowledge the authority of the Weyr?" Kirke's dark, narrowed gaze slides to the dragons there, annoyance and anger for their presence flickering as K'del reminds him of authority. Yet, still, he commands to the teenager again, "Go," before turning back to K'del as the boy leaves. "I don't deny the authority of the Weyr and I do my duty as I need, but a fancy dragon and knot don't make Lilah what she isn't. A Harper has the authority here to try a murderer." Another set of dark eyes, wider and softer, slide briefly towards K'del as he defends her, Lilah's lips drawing into a brief line before she continues to the woman and little girl, "Please, mother. He asked me to; he was dying either way, whether I cut him open or not." It's as if her words, or the direction they are spoke, make Kirke angrier, as he bellows over whatever she would say next, "And then you ran away! Like a coward. If you were so innocent, you would have stayed." "They make this a kettle of fish you don't want to overturn," is K'del's answer, quiet but steady, heedless of his mixed metaphors (sometimes these things just happen). His gaze turns back towards Lilah, now, to watch her for a moment. It's only a moment, though; one hand lifts to rest upon Cadejoth's head, which draws closer towards the group, now. "Guess that means you've never panicked. Never made a mistake." Those words are calm, too; a deliberate contrast to Kirke's bellow. "Do you really believe a queen dragon would choose someone unfit to lead?" Which... really is a whole different kettle of fish; a conflicted one, certainly, for K'del. "I don't know what makes a dragon choose, or choose a murderer," Kirke answers, though at least K'del's calm seems to have him struggling to keep his own, though there is a flush to his skin as he tries to contain his anger. "But, are you saying that because she's a dragonrider now, she don't get a fair shake? That she's above the law?" he counters. Yet, while they speak, Lilah has fallen silent. She stares at her mother, who has refused to answer her or look in her daughter's direction, and for the moment, hurt and regret fill the goldrider's dark eyes with a suspiciously wet sheen. Slowly, very carefully, K'del says, "When a dragon chooses, they see everything; everything you ever sought to hide, everything you ever thought or felt." Instead of drawing that to a specific conclusion, he rubs his fingertips across Cadejoth's eye-ridges, takes in a breath, and then says, "And no, that's not what I'm saying at all. No one is. But tread carefully; Lilah's the right to tell her side to the story, and she's the right to be heard. If a harper finds her innocent, you'll have to accept that, and acknowledge your own guilt. Innocent," he reminds, slowly, "until proven guilty." It may be that he's deliberately not looking at Lilah, now. Something about this snaps Lilah back to the moment, her gaze sweeping from K'del to Kirke and then returning to the Weyrleader before she pleads, "I can't-- The harpers--. I am not going to stay here to stand trial without warning. I have duties to return to. If there is a trial--." The goldrider never finishes that either, before she turns on her heel to stride that brief bit back to her dragon, to begin scaling back up the height of the gold. Eliyaveith finally stills, though not without tension throughout her bunched muscles. "Stop!" And when that does not work, Kirke is all about blustering again in a bellow of command to K'del, "Stop her." He starts to run forward to do so himself, but stops as a low rumble escapes from Eliyaveith. And K'del's answer? "No." He lets it hang for a moment, one arm out to stop the holder from getting any closer, even if Eliyaveith hadn't done so already. "She's every right to leave. You know where she is, now. If you really think you have a case, if the harpers really think there is a case to be tried, then by all means, have it taken to them." The way he says it, he has significant doubts. "Have them deliver the summons to Fort Weyr. Do it properly. Publicly." His gaze slides past Kirke, now, and towards Lilah's mother, and that other daughter. "I'd've left too, if my mother cared so little for me. Excuse me." it's his turn, now, to turn to leave. A curse about dragons and dragonriders tears (quietly, of course) from Kirke's lips, his dark eyes, so much like his niece's, staring at K'del for a long, challenging moment as if he would like to argue with the Weyrleader. Finally, he only jerks a nod before being forced to step back and back again as Eliyaveith's wings spread to their full length. For a moment, Lilah's dark eyes catch on K'del at his words, but then the gold is launching herself into the air, putting as much distance between herself and the ground as she can for the moment that leaves little time for her rider to appreciate the Weyrleader's defense. The queen does extend the image of Fort's bowl to Cdejoth before she disappears Between, that more familiar home shared as information rather than expectation. Lilah's mother turns away before any of the other herders, dragging her staring daughter away despite that rebuke. Before he mounts up, K'del spits upon the ground at his feet, a silent final remark before he, too, is off and away. Cadejoth climbs, circling higher and higher, but does not, immediately vanish Between. « He wishes to know if we should follow, or if she needs to be alone, » he wonders of Eliyaveith, reaching for her with chains that are tightly wound, but not quivering. « He thinks she should speak to the harpers herself. » There's a pause, and then he adds, quietly - so very quietly - « He is sorry. » « You are welcome, » to follow, Eliyaveith answers, her rider's gratefulness echoing like a thread of her own golden chains though buried beneath the tension of everything else. « She does not trust the harpers. Not after what happened with Elsyth's. » The queen does not disagree with the assessment, withholding her own judgement for the moment. And quietly, she adds, « So am I. » Follow, then, Cadejoth does. It's not often that he's been to Fort since Isyath's departure, but he's no reticence in being there now; in appearing above the Weyr, and in circling down, seeking out the bronzey-gold queen. In words, he does not answer; still, there's a thread of his presence that immediately reconnects the moment he's out of between, and perhaps that will, at least in the short term, suffice. Eliyaveith has claimed her ledge; and for all that it is a junior weyrwoman's ledge, it is not a familiar one to Cadejoth. It sits lower and separate from the Weyrleader's complex rather than Ali's old ledge. Lilah is just finishing stripping the straps from her queen, the movements that she makes sharp and jerky as tension spills over into even the way she treats those bits of leather. Eliayveth's presence makes it, at least, relatively simple for Cadejoth to find his destination; he lands carefully, leaving plenty of room for the queen, and for her rider to finish with those straps. K'del clambers down, waiting until he's on his own two feet before he turns towards the goldrider and says, "Lilah... I'm so sorry." "For what?" snaps Lilah back, though she catches herself and her temper a moment after. Her lips part on what might have been an apology, if she were another woman, but it never quite makes it out. Instead, she simply shakes her head in a gesture of dismissal, turning from Eliyaveith to gather up the straps that she has thrown down. K'del doesn't flinch; doesn't really seem to react to being snapped at, though his gaze lingers upon the goldrider. At least his expression isn't pitying; sad, maybe, but not that. "For not being able to calm them down. For not... and because it sucks. Whatever happened, back then, it sucks." Lilah's grip tightens on those straps, her knuckles turning white as she stares at the leather as he speaks. Finally, she admits in a quiet murmur, "I really thought they would listen. That time and Eliyaveith and--." Her words catch in her throat, and she is quick to turn away, striding with a purpose towards her weyr even as she offers to the bronzerider behind her, "You did what you could. Thank you." K'del stands, where he is, just short of awkward, as the goldrider strides away; for a moment or two, perhaps it seems he won't follow, but then, out of nowhere, he launches into action, trailing after Lilah as he says, "I... is there anything I can do? That might help? Even..." one hand is waved idly. "Temporarily. I don't know. Guess this is not much of a turnday." "Just keep your promise, please. Don't tell anyone about any of it," replies Lilah quietly, hooking the straps onto the shelf before she turns back to face K'del. Her lips tighten, a breath drawn in slowly, before she adds in an explanation, "I didn't-- murder him. He had a growth on his liver and he asked me to remove it. He would have died even if I hadn't; I just would not have been the one who killed him." There is a desperation to the way dark eyes linger on him, as if willing him to believe her. A nod answers Lilah as she turns back to face him, though he holds his words back until she's finished her explanation, his brows knitted but not accusatorially. "Okay," he says. "I believe you. And you... got scared, and ran?" There's no accusation in that, either. "People die, sometimes. With healers. Healers do the best they can and sometimes it's just... it happens." "I was young and stupid and-- Even if I hadn't ran, they would have still accused me," Lilah answers simply, and though the edge of the way she watches him eases, those dark eyes still linger on K'del. "I know that. I know people and dragons die and we can't stop it all, but..." She cuts herself off again, shaking her head. K'del's immediate answer is an exhale. "Yeah," he says, after a long pause. "I know. But... you did the best you could. You tried. That they wouldn't have believed you, even then is... sad. So I'm sorry." He holds his hands awkwardly, behind his back, as though he's not quite sure what to do with them. Lilah's words take on a touch of defense, buried there, where she murmurs, "Progress and free-thinking move slowly outside of the Weyr and the Crafts." But that is all she spares for her hold, before she seems to notice the way that K'del holds himself. A look sweeps past him, to their dragons on the ledge outside, before returning. She offers, "I will be fine, if you would like to go. I know if people see him, there--." "I'm holdbred too," comments K'del, though he's nearly twenty turns out of the holds; it's harder to be defensive, now. "Do you want me to stay?" This is more sure, words and voice and the question in his expression. "Because I can. We don't have to talk about this, if you don't want to. We can... shells, I don't know. But." Both palms are held out, something like an offering; he's here, if she needs him. "We can celebrate my turnday," Lilah answers, her lips curving into a smile that is only somewhat forced as she moves to retrieve a bottle of wine from her shelf and lift it in a question to K'del. She adds, more sure herself, "Stay, at least for a while. Too long, and who knows what will be said to Ali." K'del's nod answers the offer of wine; his words say, quietly, "I don't care what anyone at Fort has to say about my being here; those who'll naturally think the worst of me will do so whatever I do, so what's the point? And Ali... she knows you and I are friends." Which doesn't mean the worst rumours can't get back to her. Now, finally, K'del begins to pull off his jacket, and adds, "We'll have to think up something more fun, for your next turnday." Lilah's brows lift slightly at that news, a hint of surprise that is buried quickly, before she offers only a teasing, "She must really believe in your reformed nature. I'm not sure that she thought that highly of me." She works at opening the bottle of (cheap) wine, only moving to settle at the table in that outer portion of her weyr after gathering glasses for them both. "Lying on a boat in the middle of the ocean, doing absolutely nothing all day except learning to fish." K'del's lack of further comment on the topic of Ali might speak volumes; it might not. In lieu of answer, he lays his jacket over the back of one of the chairs, before he sinks into another of them. "Reckon I could go for that," he agrees, instead. "Somewhere warm. No storms," there's only the faintest twist of his mouth for that, "And no problems. Fried fish on a beach somewhere, afterwards." It is unlikely that Lilah doesn't notice that, but neither does she press at the Weyrleader. "No storms," agrees the goldrider, falling silent for a brief moment. But then, she tips her chin in a nod towards the ledge, adding, "We will have to catch enough for them, as well. I am sure Eliyaveith would appreciate fried fish." "Fried fish for four? We'd better catch ourselves a lot of fish, then," decides K'del. "But I assure you, I'm not half bad at it, so we should be fine." His smile is unequivocally amused, at least, and if he has to work to keep the conversation light over the glass (or two) he sticks around for, well, at least they more-or-less manage it. It's only when he takes his leave that he reaches out to grab for Lilah's hand, to say, "Look after yourself, Lilah. And if you need anything..." None of it matters; he's got her back. Lilah's fingers catch back against his, squeezing lightly in a silent appreciation that shows in her gaze as she meets his. "Clear skies, K'del," she replies in turn, before she adds again, "Thank you." K'del's fingers linger only for a moment before he, with a smile, inclines his head forward just once. Then, it's out into the spring air, and home-- to a High Reaches that still hasn't (quite) warmed up. |
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