Logs:Turn's End
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| RL Date: 14 October, 2014 |
| Who: Devaki, Dilan, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, High Reaches Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: It's time for Dilan to go home. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 27, Month 13, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions, Vinien/Mentions |
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| It's mid-afternoon, the day before Turnover. The Hold's busy, of course, in preparation, the gather grounds already fluttering with colorful flapping tents and stages in preparation for tomorrow's celebration. The Lord (or rather, just dad in Dilan's case), manages to distract Vinien with oversight of the important work of taste-testing some sweets in preparation for tomorrow, and shortly thereafter steers Dilan outside, walking down towards the docks. It's cold, with winter fully set in, though warm jackets do much to dispel that. Dilan's been quiet, these past few days; it's a hard place to be, torn between excitement at going 'home,' sadness at leaving 'other home,' and other, more complicated emotions besides. Like most boys, he's too cool to wear gloves, but apparently not too cool to shove them in his pockets as he works, blonde head tilted up so that he can half-watch Devaki - dad - out of the corner of his eye. "Your mom will be here soon," Devaki says, with a note of regret, lifting one of his own hands -- which was shoved into his jacket -- to rest companionably on Dilan's shoulder as they pass the docks and reach the shipyard. For the past two months, work there has been progressing, and ship which was once nothing more than a frame now stands regal, not far off being seaworthy. "Before you go," the Lord says, slowly, hesitating a moment, as if conflicted. Then, finally: "Before you go, I want you to name it." Dilan's nod is tiny and conflicted; what isn't conflicted is the way he leans in to his father's hand, or the enthusiastic way in which he watches that ship. His step falters, though, and he turns to face the Lord more directly, in the wake of that last remark. "Are you... sure? Me? I mean, you don't have to. You don't have to give me anything... it's not like I'm never coming back, right?" And now Devaki grins, something bright and pleased in his countenance. "I'm sure," he says, no hesitation now. "It won't be one of the ones we keep, but one day -- you'll see it sailing out on the ocean, or maybe you'll fly over it one your brown, or it'll return to port and you'll spot it -- see the name you gave it." A beat. "You're my son, you're a part of my family, and a part of my legacy. Besides, the Weyr isn't that far away," he adds, with a brief grin. "What do you think?" His gaze goes from the boy to the ship. "Doesn't she deserve a proper name?" Dilan's smile blossoms, now, focused wholly on Devaki and not at all on the ship-- for a few seconds, at least, that's where his priorities lie. "I'm going to miss you," he says, barely above a whisper. "No matter how close it is." It's perhaps in the interests of not dwelling on something as emotional - and thus girly - as that that he straightens so abruptly to look, properly, at the ship in question. "How do you decide how to name them?" "I'm going to miss you too, son," Devaki murmurs, the fingers that rest on Dilan's shoulder squeezing briefly. "But we'll visit, or you'll visit. Vinien will insist," the Lord adds with a smile. "Ah, the ship," he tips his head, considering. "Some look at it, and decide how it makes the feel -- how they want it to feel. Some name it after themselves, or an aspect of themselves they envy or are proud of. Some name it after their experiences." He leans closer, as if sharing a secret, voice amused: "Isse named one of ours The Pirate Queen, because she wanted to be one, once." It could be that Dilan nods, just once, in answer to that murmur; if so, it's terribly subtle. His expression is thoughtful as Devaki continues, though it turns abruptly into a grin - a laughing grin - for that last remark. "I can't imagine that. I mean, she's so..." But he stops. "If Lady Issedi has a ship, then my mom should, too. I guess it can't be 'The Lady Madilla,' but it could be something like that, couldn't it?" Blue eyes flick back to Devaki, hopefully eager. "Isse was a girl just like Sealene or Lily, once. She had dreams and hopes beyond what her position dictated she must do." There's a softness to Devaki's tone as he speaks of his wife, a smile present and only widening at the suggestion. "I don't see why not. Maybe a nickname? Or something that both you and she will know refers to her?" he suggests. "I like Maddy, personally." Dilan's expression suggests dubiousness, though no doubt he'd feel the same of the idea of his own mother being, once upon a time, just a girl like his sister. He doesn't, however, actually argue. Perhaps it's partly because his idea has been approved. "Maddy? That's what you call her." It's a comment, neither approving nor disapproving; he sounds thoughtful. "I like it. Because she's not all formal and stiff; she's just mom. And her bo-- ship will be too." "To you, she is not a talented Journeywoman, or a Weyrhealer, she is just your mom," Devaki agrees, sounding pleased with Dilan's decision. With a last pat of the boy's shoulder, he says, "Why don't you go tell the dockmaster the name you've decided on. He should have just enough time to get something in place before your mom arrives. It'll be a nice surprise for her, don't you think?" "Lily says the masters want to make mom a master," reports Dilan, frowning as he says it; as though he can't quite believe his sister is telling the truth. It might be something he'd dwell on more, but Devaki's suggestion has him, belatedly, grinning all over. "It will!" He's quick to jog off towards the dockmaster, to engage the man in enthusiastic and eager conversation. It's while he's still there that Madilla shows up, probably directed this way by a helpful guard up at the hold proper. "Do they?" Devaki sounds surprised -- and definitely interested by this, too. "She'd make a great Master," is his opinion, his grin following Dilan's departure. With hands shoved back into his pockets, the Lord looks at ease as he regards the Maddy. Dilan, however, is not alone, as a sweet-sounding voice follows him, along with light footsteps: "Vinien's not going to like that," Sealene suggests, twirling blonde hair around a finger as blue eyes fix on her older half-brother. That Devaki is surprised is only natural - it's weird, right? - though Dilan's less certain of that second comment. As he returns to his father, he gives Sealene a half-scornful glance; "Vinien doesn't have to like her," he says, firmly. "I'm older than he is." And then: "Mom! Did you see? She's named after you and everything." Madilla's gaze tracks from her son to her son's father, bypassing Sealene altogether; she looks a little bewildered. With a cute little frown, as if not sure of the response, Sealene abruptly throws her arms around Dilan in a quick hug. "You're a doofus," she learned that word off one of the dock worker's sons a seven ago and has been using it ever since, "But I'm going to miss you." Abruptly, she turns and skips off, blonde hair bouncing as she departs. This earns a bemused sort of look from Devaki, quickly becoming a brief chuckle. Though his greeting grin towards Madilla is warm, he gives a little shrug of his shoulders, and gestures towards Dilan, as if to suggest it was all the boy's idea. Dilan's hug is enthusiastic; the look he gives after Sealene's departing back torn between fond and bemused. "I'm going to miss you, too," he says, mostly beneath his breath, before he's distracted by his parents; he beams. "The ship, mom. Dad let me name her, and I named her after you!" As he approaches, Madilla reaches down to ruffle his hair, a gesture Dilan shuffles away from, despite his grin. "Well, that's... sweet of you," she says, giving Devaki a Look. Devaki, for his part, looks entirely unrepentant. "It's a great name for a ship. The Maddy," he's nothing but enthusiastic, beaming at Dilan. Madilla's look earns a, "I thought it would be a nice farewell present. Hey, son?" He bends down as if dropping to Dilan's level, but only for as long as it takes to grab hold of him around the waist and lift him up, and over his shoulder so he's hanging upside down. "Think we can beat your mom up to the Hold?" The Maddy. Dilan could not possibly look more proud; Madilla could not possibly look more bewildered. "I--" begins the healer, though before she has a chance to go any further, her son intervenes, first to squeal with laughter as he's picked up, and then, still giggling, to confirm: "You know we can. Let me down, dad. Come on, let's gooooo." One of Madilla's eyebrows quirks; that's the moment she takes off, too. They're just going to have to catch up. It's by no coincidence that Devaki keeps a hold of his giggling son for just long enough to let Madilla precede them: he sets the boy down, and settles into a run. He's not trying to beat the healer, but he's going to keep up with Dilan all the same, boots crunching through the snow. It probably doesn't matter how much of a lead Madilla has, or might ever have had; she's not an athlete, and her son has distinctly more energy and desire to win. Dilan's triumphant when he reaches the hold first; Madilla, when she gets there eventually, more amused than anything. Amused - and breathless, too. "You've grown," she says of her son. "Get your things?" Dilan first, Madilla second, and Devaki, seemingly content to bring up the rear, murmurs, "He has," to the healer as he comes a pace with her, with a quirk of brow. His gaze flickers towards Dilan as the boy departs to gather his things -- no doubt waylaid briefly by Vinien who is set on making all sorts of plans about how they're going to catch up and write each other and visit -- leaving a few moments to the adults. "I'm going to miss having him around," the Lord admits, exhaling. "I... I really appreciate that you allowed him to do this, Maddy." Madilla's gaze follows her son indoors, drawing back towards Devaki only once he's entirely out of sight. "I know," she says, on an exhale. "I'm glad he had the opportunity. It was the right thing, no matter how... we're going to be glad to have him back. It's been quiet, without him. Without Lily. But," she gives the Lord a nod. "It's been important. You've built a bond." Devaki eases closer, looping a hand through Madilla's arm, squeezing briefly. "We did," he agrees. "And he's welcome back to visit any time he wants. He and Vinien have grown close, and I'd like them to keep in touch. I think they're going to write -- Vinien's already been nagging me for a firelizard." He makes a face at that, gaze going towards the door, before he asks, almost inaudibly, "Master?" "Any time he likes," promises Madilla, those words getting out before she actually registers that last remark, which makes her blanch. "They want me to take a posting back to the Hall," she says, her own words not much above a murmur. "Look after apprentices. Teach. I don't want it." "You want to stay at your home," Devaki says, like that's an obvious and logical conclusion. He looks thoughtful, interested: "Will they pressure you to do it?" Madilla's nod confirms it. "I don't know," is her answer. "I'm going to accept the crafter representative position at the Weyr, later today. Someone needs to keep them in line. I hope that will put them off, at least for the turn. After that..." She cracks a smile, suddenly. "Perhaps I just need to get pregnant." "Maddy!" Devaki affects his most shocked expression, though his eyes betray the teasing of the words, "My wife is right inside!" Once his laughter subsides, he says more seriously, "Tevara's struck me as sensibly practical on the occasions we've met. I can talk to her." Madilla's eyes dance with amusement. "And my weyrmate is--" Not far away, apparently, given his brown is up on the fireheights. "I hope so. I mean... I've always respected her. They just want my skills, elsewhere, and I think they hope that if they push enough..." She shakes her head. "It'll work out. I'll be fine." "Come and talk to me, when you change your mind." When, not if; Devaki seems to think it's a given. "We might need to go herd our son, if you ever want to take him with you," he adds, with a smile. It's both fond, and reluctant at the same time; he's clearly not looking forward to letting Dilan return home to the Weyr. Even Madilla's nod seems to accept the inevitable, and the half-smile that goes with it; it's grateful, even if she's yet to actually accept. Her gaze flicks away from Devaki's, glancing up towards the hold, and then, finally, back again. "He'll be back to visit soon," she promises. "And if Vinien wishes to come and stay..." But for now, she steps forward: it really is time to round up her - their - boy. |
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