Difference between revisions of "Logs:Family Time"

It's been a difficult couple of sevens, between Iska's tendency to prefer to sleep through the day and be awake all night, K'del's duties to his own Weyr, and Isyath's disgruntlement with the interruption of her /own/ sleep. It's late, and the sudden crying indicates it's Iska's morning. Burying further into the blankets, Ali mutters, "/Your/ daughter's awake." Has there been 'turns'? Maybe, but if so, it's definitely his turn now. « It is /never/ quiet, » Isyath comments, grumpily- /she/ has no blankets to burrow under, the noise clearly audible from the queen's wallow.

Cadejoth is rather more sanguine about the whole situation - but then, he frequently manages to sleep through it, and he and his rider get to escape back to High Reaches sometimes. « Hide your head beneath my wing, » he suggests, chains barely rattling in their sleep-cocooned state. K'del doesn't seem much more thrilled at the interruption to sleep than Ali is, groaning into his pillow, but at least he does crawl out of bed: turns or no turns, he'll get this one. "Go back to sleep," he says. "Unless she's hungry, I've got it." Chances of that? Yeah.

Cadejoth's not allowed to sleep through it if Isyath can't, if the grumbling nature of the queen's mood is any guide. And while she does shift so that she can hide her head under the bronze's wing, that doesn't exactly help much. She's /awake/, and shifting to get comfortable, and likely to keep him awake, too. Ali, meanwhile, makes another noise that is faint frustration, since Isyath's discomfort is apparently shared with her, too. Thankfully, the hearth's still burning low, keeping the chill out of the air, and the dark-haired woman pushes up to a sitting position to watch a beat, before, "Bring her back to the bed. Maybe if she eats she'll sleep?" Definitely wishful thinking.

Rousing further, now, the bronze extends his mental landscape towards the queen: stars dancing like ornaments in the wind, his chains holding them up. They make a much prettier sound than the crying baby, that's for certain. K'del gives a nod in answer to Ali, albeit a distracted one, as he reaches down to pick up this youngest of his offspring and draw her against his chest, rocking back and forth. "She's not wet, at least," he reports, as he turns back towards the bed. "C'mon, little girl," he murmurs, tone sing-song, "We're going to fill up your belly, and then you're going to drift off to sleep again."

The distraction from Cadejoth seems well taken; there's another, albeit quieter grumble from Isyath. "Please, let it be so," is Ali's sentiment to K'del's words, pulling back the blankets as he approaches. Now that she's awake, she draws a hand through her hair, smiling inadvertantly. "Did you see the blanket? The cream one with the colored squares? Hattie made it for me." The junior sounds more pleased about it than any of the other gifts they've been given- perhaps as much for who it's from as what it signifies.

"From Hattie," says K'del, as he gingerly crawls back into the bed, still rocking the crying baby - though he'll hand her over to her mother for feeding once he's more or less situated. His fingertips linger upon Iska's head, though the other hand adjusts the covers back over his legs as he does so. "That is good news. Hopefully... eventually, it'll be okay again. It's a good sign. And a lovely blanket."

There's some adjustment into a comfortable position for both mother and child before Iska's cries stop in favor of eating. Ali breathes a sigh of relief, glancing from the infant girl towards K'del with a growing smile. "I hope so. I- I've missed talking to her. Other than- well, I suppose I haven't even had the excuse of work." With an exhale, she leans against K'del, murmuring, "Tell me how things are going with Nabol." One might suspect she's hoping it'll put them all to sleep, although the dark-haired woman seems keenly interested in Hold politics.

K'del's own sigh echoes Ali's, and his arm reaches out so that he can wrap it around her, looking down at the pair of them as Iska feeds. "I can imagine," he murmurs. "Nabol... Ienavi's managed to pull some kind of strings, somehow, and provided us with seed, so it looks like I'm going to be forcing dragonriders to be farmers again. But it's for the best: we need that tithe, this turn, and so does Nabol. Rone's gone, so the succession's pretty clear, just as soon as there's a Conclave, so... time to rebuild." His exhale is a lengthy one, the kind that suggests he's pretty tired of the whole situation.

"Farmers?" Even for a former Holder such as Ali, the idea of dragonriders farming is an anathema. It makes her twist her head to look at him, earning a burbling protest from Iska; she quickly adjusts. "I- I can't imagine the older riders would like that much. Especially the ones that fought Thread. Nor," she reflects, after a beat, "The Holders themselves. Once Iska's old enough for between you should take her with you, distract everyone with her cuteness. You'll need all the help you can get." She's only half serious.

"They're going to hate me for it," agrees K'del, though he seems resigned to the point of comfort about that. "It's just to get them back on their feet, though. Help out with the rebuilding, and the plowing, and the planting. And then we'll leave them all alone, and go back to our usual stuff. Iska's not a bad idea. She'll charm the pants off them." His glance down at his daughter is an affectionate one - outright besotted. "But it's this or... or the planting doesn't get done in time, and the harvest is short, and... and it buys us goodwill with the Nabolese. With Ienavi."

"You don't- think it'll make the other Holds disgruntled? I mean- I can't imagine them taking things easy knowing the Weyr's there to bail them out, but-" the idea doesn't much sit well with her, Ali shaking her head. "Either way, there's no good way forward. At least Boll's not in such a bad shape. Although Fort-" she sucks in a sharp breath, then goes still; Iska's still eating, but she's quietly content for the time being. It distracts the dark-haired woman from the conversation at hand for the moment.

K'del's eyes close, and he shakes his head. "Doubt it'll do us much good in the general sense, no. It may even be that some will want to punish us for taking sides, helping Ienavi. But... we've got to eat. Three turns without full tithes would be three too many." His gaze lifts towards Ali, now, watching her, his hand gently squeezing her shoulder. "Fort sounds like a mess," he agrees. "But you've been lucky with Boll. In that sense, anyway. Seems like Holds are always a mess, in one way or another, for us. Maybe it's just an Interval thing."

"Sad as it is to admit- maybe Thread keeps them in line?" Ali wonders aloud. "Keeps them focused on what's more important." The thought makes her frown distractedly before she glances at the infant girl. Iska looks to have fallen asleep, and it's with a barely breathed, "Here," that she lifts Iska, with the intention of setting the girl on her stomach on K'del's chest. "She sleeps better with you here," she murmurs, with a growing smile.

The look on K'del's face, so somber and serious, is likely answer enough to that wondering: that's certainly what he seems to think. "We just have to keep reminding them that they need us still," he murmurs, as much to himself as to Ali. Any further thoughts are forestalled by his daughter: he withdraws that arm from Ali so that he can hold Iska in both of his, cradled carefully against his chest. "Can't say that I sleep better when I'm here," he murmurs in answer. "But daddy needs his little girl just as much as she needs him. Isn't that right, Iska?"

"Do they?" Ali wonders, briefly, before she settles down onto her side, one hand stretching out to rest on top of K'del's protective enclosure of Iska. "That's right," Ali's murmuring in her 'Iska' voice, which is somewhat high pitched and squeaky. "At least until I turn fourteen and notice boys and stamp my foot a lot and get my way because I have daddy wrapped around my cute little finger, right?"

K'del doesn't have an answer to that first question, except the expression on his face, which is... conflicted. Do they need the Weyrs? Does he want to admit to anything? Thank goodness for his daughter, and her mother, who are distracting. "It's not my fault we made a perfectly perfect daughter," he teases Ali, still looking down at the sleeping Iska. "Though I'll try not to spoil her, I promise. Not fair if you always have to be the 'mean' parent."

"I'd think it's at least /half/ your fault," Ali replies quickly, with a laugh. She can't exactly do anything to K'del that'd disturb Iska, so she settles for sliding a leg over his, with a significant sidelong look. "Honestly? I think I'll be hard pressed not to spoil her, too. Maybe we can make a pact to try not to completely ruin her?" It's not exactly a ringing endorsement.

Nor can K'del do anything more than return that glance, finally turning his attention away from his daughter and towards Ali. "At least, huh. Let's settle for half, and hope that we can curb each other's excesses as best we can. A pact, yes." The mirth in his gaze suggests he's quite contentedly aware of how this sounds, though at least he follows it up with, "my boys seem to have turned out relatively well so far, so... all is not completely lost. Of course, they're boys, and that's hopelessly different, I'm afraid. Iska may be doomed, poor pretty little thing."

"We'll just have to give her a younger brother who'll keep her in line. And her older half-brothers can keep her /out/ of trouble." At least that's what Ali hopes. "Poor Iska," she repeats with a quiet laugh, content to twist her head where she see the infant, though her eyes close soon after.

"Sounds like a plan," K'del decides, authoritatively, as if by saying as much he is making it so. His attention, caught as it is between the pair of them, eventually slides back towards Ali. "Sleep," he murmurs. "She's safe and happy. Just... sleep." Chances are, he won't be far behind her.

"While we can," Ali's agreeing, half asleep as it is. "Don't let go of her," is the last thing she can be heard murmuring.

"I won't," K'del promises, though he doesn't seem to expect to be heard. "Ever."