Difference between revisions of "Logs:Blackmail"

H'vier hasn't been invited to Tayte's room. He hasn't been invited to come see his son since that day in the infirmary when they met for the first time. It could be malicious, it also could be an oversight. Surely the bronzerider remembers those first hazy days and sevens after Tahvra was born when sleep was hard to come by and what little there was came in fits and starts in between the squalling communications of very basic needs the newborn couldn't fulfill for herself. So it should come as no surprise that when H'vier arrives at Tayte's room almost a month after their son was born that he's greeted by a woman with silver at her temples, but dark hair, attractively coiffed, and not Tayte herself. "Can I help you?" She asks quietly, traces of a Bitran accent present in her voice.

One could probably question why it's taken H'vier so long to come visit even without an invitation, but he's been busy in his own way, what with his official wing responsibilities and all. His brow furrows at the woman who answers the door, but he answers without hesitating, "I'm here to see my son. And his mother. In private."

Has H'vier met many mothers? Or rather, mothers in the capacity of 'meeting the parents'? Because to anyone who's ever done so, the evaluating look Estarra gives H'vier is unmistakable. She's silent a moment as she draws her conclusions, whatever they are. Then politely, even apologetically, "I'm afraid they're sle--" And that's when Tayre screams awake. "Well. Not anymore." The Bitran sighs. "Will you wait?" She asks, likely meaning to consult the no doubt now nursing mother as the squall dies as suddenly as it came.

H'vier probably hasn't met many mothers, no. He's not exactly the sort of guy most girls want their mothers to meet. And that's only assuming he would have agreed to meet them in the first place. His gaze shifts past the woman at the door when it becomes obvious that his son is awake, but instead of answering, he just starts coming through the door.

Estarra's surprised protest is a choked, wordless thing, though she has the sense to step back rather than be shoved aside. That is, of course, overridden by Tayte's exasperated and exclamation upon seeing him, "Oh, for fuck's sake, H'vier!" If she's swearing, the girls must not be in. Her tone is enough to startle Tayre out of his latch and set the babe screaming all over again. So with a frustrated noise, she bends to the task of silencing him again.

That H'vier gives the unfamiliar woman little of his attention is probably of no real surprise to anyone. Except maybe the woman herself. He looks at Tayre when his son starts screaming but his eyes shift back up to Tayte as she deals with it. "We need to talk. Alone." Now he does turn his gaze on the older woman. Hint, hint.

"What?" The question isn't an objection, it's because Tayte's tiiiired, and thusly she takes an extra moment to process the words as having any kind of meaning, plus she's trying to get the baby latched and-- there it goes; Tayre silences. Then Tayte's brain catches up with her. "Oh, fine." She looks to the older woman, "It's fine, Mom. Why don't you go get yourself some klah from the lounge?" Estarra looks, for a moment, like she might protest, glancing between her daughter and the apparent not quite son-in-law, but then lets out a breath and nods before stepping past H'vier to collect her knit wrap from a hook and step out, leaving H'vier to close the door if he likes.

His gaze lingers on 'Mom', eyes narrowing for a thoughtful moment. Surely he had some suspicion that was the case, but knowing for certain makes him study her until she leaves and he closes the door behind her. When H'vier turns back to Tayte, he says, "Saorisa was asking about you."

At least Tayte's reaction this time is quiet enough that it doesn't startle Tayre and his Serious Business. She pales and stares, perhaps a little wide of eye, at the bronzerider, but says nothing.

"Well. To be fair," H'vier continues with a not very friendly grin starting to pull on his lips, "she was asking about Kaytee." He makes his way closer to Tayte, glancing back at the door where the older woman left a few moments ago. "Is your mother familiar with her? Maybe I should ask her how she's doing."

"Havi," Tayte manages after a hard swallow. "Please." Please, what? Maybe she doesn't even know but the tone is quietly pleading. It may, however, easily be gleaned from that and her unnerved expression that, no, her mother isn't familiar with Kaytee.

"No?" H'vier wonders out loud, so curious, as his attention comes back to Tayte. "I suppose I could be convinced to keep my mouth shut." If she does, indeed, want him to keep his mouth shut about whatever ambiguous information he may or may not know about her.

"Havi," Tayte looks at him imploringly with those ocean eyes he knows so well. "You don't have to do this." She'd probably prefer he didn't. She reaches the hand not supporting little Tayre and pats the bed next to her. "What is it you want?" See? She can be reasonable! Especially in the face of a blackmailer.

H'vier stops near the edge of the bed, but he doesn't sit down. Instead, he crosses his arms and looks down at Tayte and their son. It's a few moments before he offers, "I want you." He's probably being vague on purpose.

Tayte blinks once up at him. "I thought you didn't want to be with me?" Now she's confused. He left her, didn't he? Although, technically, H'vier did not say 'be with her.' Technically.

He doesn't bother correcting her right now about what he'd wanted before because that's not the point. H'vier shakes his head slowly, though, "That's not what I'm asking for. Not right now." Maybe it could lead there? "I want to fuck you," he repeats a bit more bluntly.

Tayte's eyes close a long moment in the face of that bluntness. She does look, just for a moment, like he slapped her. "You want to use me." It's not really a question, but she looks up at him all the same.

Something about H'vier's expression suggests he doesn't like it being put quite that way, but he doesn't correct her. "Is that a problem?" There's a right answer to this question. She'll probably want to use that one.

The look Tayte gives him is probably worse than if she'd given him something disgusted or otherwise antagonistic. The look is one of defeat and resignation. Will she ever look at him as she once did? Even before this moment, was there a chance? Is it gone now, regardless? "That's how this all started, isn't it? Me using you. Why should I have a problem with turnabout." Nevermind that her using him led to them having Tahvra and so much being different. All of this is to say that, yes, of course she has a problem with it, but apparently isn't going to take chances.

"Good." Now H'vier sits down where she'd indicated not so long ago and offers Tayte a smile that one might even be able to consider warm. "I'm willing to not care about who else you sleep with, Tayte. But if I find out you're trying to fuck me over behind my back, you will regret it." That's probably meant to mean no whining to her Weyrleader bestie, or anyone else, about anything that has to do with him.

Tayte's eyes close again. They stay closed longer this time. When she opens them, it's not to H'vier that she looks, but to tiny Tayre, who's fallen asleep at her breast. "Fine. But you'll have to wait. The healers haven't cleared me." And who knows for how long they might give her some measure of reprieve concerning this, or what she might be able to do by the time they do. She's still not looking at H'vier, but focusing her attention on the babe who she carefully shifts more into her arm and then moves a hand to pull the cloth of her nightgown to cover her breast now that he's finished.

"I can be patient." He can be. If he has good reasons for being so. The underlying threat might be that she should make sure her reasons continue to be worth his patience. "He's beautiful," is added after a moment now that H'vier is gazing at his son, like this were any other pleasant conversation they could be having.

Tayte's lips tighten a moment. She'd probably like to not do what she does next, but there's no use in antagonizing him just now. "Would you like to hold him?" She offers, though her voice lacks warmth.

"I would," is his easy answer as H'vier reaches for her to hand the boy off to him, paying no attention to any lack of warmth in her voice. He's not so disconnected that he doesn't realize what he's doing to her is generally considered unacceptable, so it's not like he expects Tayte to be happy or anything.

The blonde shifts carefully to place her dark-haired son into his father's arms. Her movements are careful enough that Tayre stays asleep through the transfer and once Tayte is free, she very carefully climbs out of bed. Her movements are slow as she steps toward her vanity and settles so she can look in the mirror. "Can I ask you a question?" Tayte's alto is neutral as she reaches for her hairbrush.

H'vier settles back with his tiny son held carefully in his arms. It's a strange dissonance, perhaps, his blind affection for the baby compared to the blackmailing of the woman he once professed to love. "Hmm?"

"Why?" Tayte asks it simply, but clarifies as she strokes the brush through her unwashed hair. "You could've had me, before." Without the blackmail. "So why now? Why like this?"

"Could I have had you before?" H'vier sounds skeptical, but his voice is calm. "You refused to move in with me. You refused to weyrmate me. You took our problems to K'del. You took my daughter from me." None of that sounds particularly promising. "I didn't want to hurt you again. I changed my mind."

Tayte twists in the chair to look at him. "I asked you to weyrmate me, Havi." In this very room, in fact. "Even before that, I just wanted to take our time and not rush into things." She sighs, turning back to the mirror. "And I didn't tell K'del." At least not about The Problem. The man's just not an idiot. "I sent Tavi and Vali away because of Gallagher, not you." She sets down the brush and twists again. "I wanted to weyrmate you, Havi. You're the one that pushed me away." Wanted. Something in her tone suggests that's not the case anymore.

"I tried to do the right thing, Tayte." And H'vier sounds utterly genuine. "I wanted to do the right thing." He just, you know, failed, in the end. "But now we're here." So does it really matter how they got here? That won't change anything.

"You still could." Tayte says after a moment, sighing at herself in the mirror. "I'm sorry-- that I didn't tell you. I've never told anyone." Her expression, easily seen in the mirror, is one of deep shame. "I couldn't. And especially not you. Not after you told me about your mother."

"No," is H'vier's simple response. He can't do the right thing anymore. "I probably would have simply used it against you sooner," he admits, not commenting on his mother except to say to the sleeping babe, "I suppose it's true that men look for their mother in their mates. I hope you have better judgment, son."

Tayte closes her eyes and her face is reddened all over. "It was only a few months. It wasn't my choice." Much like now. Her words are quiet and sound nearly like an apology. "Do you really think you need to-" can- "blackmail me into loving you, Havi?" She's twisting again to look at him.

"I don't expect you to love me. I haven't expected that for some time." H'vier lifts his gaze to look at Tayte now, while she looks at him. "I'm sorry this is how things have to be, Tayte. I am." Just not sorry enough to make things be another way.

"Why do they have to be?" Tayte asks, "If you don't want my love, what is it? Do I have a magical vagina that you just can't live without?" She pushes herself up using the vanity for support. "I did just have a child you know, maybe it won't even be the same." Now she sounds a little exasperated.

"I didn't say I don't want your love." H'vier just knows he's not going to get it. But isn't this nice? Such a calm, thoughtful conversation between old friends. "I am quite fond of your vagina, though. I'm sure it will be just as magical as ever. And, in the mean time, you've got a pretty magical mouth, too."

It's the last sentence that makes Tayte go statue still and silent save for a shuddery breath she draws a moment later.

"You don't think your mother would mind waiting, do you?" Because, of course, H'vier has to remind her that her mother is still around, waiting to learn everything there is to know about Tayte.

It's this moment that Tayte probably wishes her face weren't visible, but to her credit, her expression doesn't change much. Maybe she learned that kind of thing while she was whoring around. She's silent another moment and then her tongue flicks to wet suddenly dry lips. "Are you busy this afternoon?" She must mean for the next however-long, not to imply he leave and come back.

"I'm all yours, gorgeous. Thought it would be nice to spend some time with you and Tayre." Since he didn't expect her to turn him away. "Didn't know about your mother." H'vier hasn't been watching her that closely. "But maybe she and I can get to know one another better once we're done, hm?"

If Tayte throws up in her mouth a little when he calls her 'gorgeous' this time, there's no outward sign beyond a silence before she speaks. "Is that really necessary?" Involving her mother. "I'm giving you what you want, aren't I?" She swallows.

"No," he allows. Totally unnecessary. H'vier probably doesn't care much about Tayte's parents beyond how he can use them against Tayte herself. "That remains to be seen." Just because she's agreed, more or less, doesn't mean she'll give him what he wants. The implication might be that he'll be easier to deal with if she does give him what he wants.

"I'll ask my mother to take the girls skating and for cocoa after." Really, Tayte means Yvalia, since Tavi isn't big enough to skate yet, but the implication is clear: she'll get them some alone time so the proof can be seen-- or rather, experienced.

It doesn't take long (though longer than if she hadn't experienced the trauma of birth so recently) for Tayte to return from the lounge, now free of Yvalia's skates and the girls' winter things along with some of her own for her mother to borrow for the expedition. "They'll be gone a while." She looks to Tayre, still asleep in H'vier's arms and then to the man himself. Her manner is rather businesslike when she asks, "How do you want to do this?"

"Will he be okay if we put him down somewhere?" It's probably no surprise that H'vier doesn't want to have to hold a baby while he reaps the benefits of extorting its mother.

"Maybe," Tayte answers truthfully(?), "You remember how it was with Tavi." Sometimes being set down was fine, other times she simply wouldn't have it, even when she was fast asleep. "You can lay him down and we can wait to see what happens." Maybe she hopes he'll wake.

Of course H'vier remembers. That's why he asked in the first place. Maybe Tayte knows things about the boy that he's not aware of. Not that he should expect her to tell him those things. So the bronzerider tries, very carefully, to lay the baby down on the bed.

Tayre.... stays asleep. At least for the transfer. Tayte watches with a breath she doesn't realize she's holding. But once he's on the bed, she lets the breath go and moves, around the opposite side of the bed from H'vier to carefully climb onto it and place pillows so that the babe can't roll anywhere (even if he could roll anywhere). He stays asleep for that too. She sits on the bed there, watching him, her shoulders tense.

Poor Tayte. Of course their son would choose now to be cooperative. Clearly he is H'vier's blood. The bronzerider shifts just as carefully to push himself up off of the bed, stretching his arms quietly before he's looking at Tayte to join him.

"You don't want him to wake in the middle, do you?" Tayte asks softly, suggesting, of course, that they wait... maybe until he wakes? Not that it isn't a realistic possibility whenever they try it. But stalling... well, doesn't she have to try?

"I'm sure you can manage quickly enough," returns H'vier. That should be good, though, right? The quicker Tayte is about it, the less time she needs to spend doing things she doesn't want to be doing. H'vier watches her, though, as if he expects her to wake the babe on purpose if he turns his back on her.

Tayte looks at Tayre another long moment. Then slowly, slowly she gets off the bed and moves herself, perhaps a little like a game piece heading for defeat, within reach of his arms. "Do you want me to pretend I want to? Like this?" She might want to, if it weren't like this.

"Can you?" wonders H'vier out loud, like he might only want that if she can do so convincingly. But then he decides, "No. I don't want you to pretend anything." For whatever reasons he has.

The laugh is bitter, if quiet. "I'm a whore, aren't I? To you? Isn't that what whores do?" Tayte looks away from his face to his chest. "What do you want?"

H'vier doesn't answer that rhetoric, but he gives her a look that suggests she ought to be careful with what she says to him. And the answer to her last question is him unfastening his pants and pushing them down just enough to give her full access.

Tayte's gaze falls. Not that she doesn't know what's down there, but perhaps because, in this moment, she needs to see how very different everything looks from this perspective. When she looks away, it's to the baby sleeping on the bed. "I love our babies." It's a pretty strange way to begin. She swallows and then looks up at him, stepping in so she's close, which is, perhaps a mistake, given that what she says is, "I'm not a whore, Havi. Tell my mother. I won't do this. Not like this." Then she's shifting to slip her arms around him, fitting herself against him in an too-familiar embrace, completely ignoring the state of his pants. One is probably not supposed to hug one's blackmailer. Especially before he ruins one's life.

At this point, H'vier isn't exactly prepared to deal with Tayte's refusal. He was getting kind of excited about the not refusing. He goes tense when her arms slip around him, hesitating to disengage himself. But when he does disengage, he lifts a hand to catch her jaw, tilting her head up to look at him as he says, "I know you're tired and not thinking clearly, darling. So I'll give you a chance to reevaluate before you do anything stupid." Right now, evidently.

"Havi," Tayte's ocean eyes are earnest as she looks up at him. "This is probably the smartest thing I've done in a long time. I'm not that girl. I was never that girl. Never by choice, but I didn't feel like I had a choice back then. I do now. I'm not going to be that girl. I'm not going to let you be the man that does that. Not to me, anyway. I love you too much for that." Because it's normal to still love the man that once hit you and has just now tried to blackmail you into sexual acts.

His hand at her jaw tightens, but there's restraint there. He could hurt her, but he doesn't. He might even want to, but he doesn't. When H'vier speaks, though, it doesn't have to do with that. "My children do not leave this Weyr without my knowing exactly where they are, understand?" He must expect her to understand, though, because he releases her, glances at his son on her bed as he pulls up his pants, then turns for the door.

"Havi, wait," Tayte asks taking a pair of steps to follow him. "Please? Stay?" One hand is reached out after him, though she's not, in her present still delicate state, quick enough to actually get ahold of him if he has a mind to leave.

H'vier stops with his hand on the knob. He looks back at her, both agitated and confused. "Why?" Women make absolutely zero sense.

"Because you came to spend time with our son," Tayte answers, moving toward her son's father, seeking his hand with hers. Nevermind that he also, apparently, came to blackmail her. "You should do that. Stay with us, please." Her tone is genuinely asking if not begging for him to stay. "I can tell you about him, if you like." The things he's missed, the sum of all the things one only comes to know about a newborn by time and proximity.

H'vier seriously considers this because it is what he'd wanted. But after glancing at the bed again, he shakes his head. "I need to go. You can tell me about him later." Later when his anger isn't so raw and he's less apt to lash out at her. See, he totally still cares about her.

"Okay," Tayte won't press him. "You can come by whenever you like. Don't need an invitation." Or blackmail. That might explain why he's not received invitation thus far: she assumed he'd come when he wanted.

The bronzerider doesn't give any indication of a response. He just turns back to the door and leaves, slamming it closed behind him.