Difference between revisions of "Logs:Meeting Again"

Late morning on a bright, sunny day in early month six finds Tillek relatively peaceful, though a trio of ships borne on a blustering wind seem determined to keep the docks busy, at least. Cadejoth appears high above the Hold and then sweeps low; he makes his greeting to the dragon on watch - and to other visitors, too - though he's destined for an official descent to the courtyard. He's expected, but, as Lady Edeline has mentioned in passing to her other High Reachian visitor, those visits never go on for long. "He'll want to feel me out, of course, ahead of the Conclave." Edeline, who never shares anything except very deliberately, alleges herself to be in a talkative mood.

Solith, not ranking so highly-- or perhaps more sociable, given how she's curled up with the elderly green ostensibly on watch-- lifts her head to warble all too cheerfully to the lanky bronze. There is sun, and she's-- they're!-- in it. At least, she and the other green are; her impeccably-clad rider is indoors, with a glass of orangefruit-laced bubbly wine substituted for the more usual tea in honor of summertime... which may be part of what makes her smile for Lady Tillek even more sparkling. "Surely. He must value your opinion, and it will be such a relief to have things settled, my lady," though Telavi stops short of suggesting how they might be settled. Though, given how long they've been interacting, she does dare to show a fleeting dimple amidst all the formality. "Above and beyond the party, of course. Is it known where the Conclave will be, yet, if I may ask?"

Releasing his rider takes rather more time than Cadejoth would like, and that sense of impatience-- of chains gathered in too tightly, too uncomfortably-- is expressed with gritty, discordant displeasure to the pair of greens. Cadejoth wants to be flying again! Protocol is dumb. Inside, Edeline allows herself a smile for Telavi's daring, the kind that might be amused if it weren't so carefully buried beneath the mask of her office. "I believe it has been set for Keroon," she answers, broadening her smile in a way that could well make it condescending. "No doubt it will be the social event of the Turn." Beat. "Well. Perhaps not that, after all. One hears word of an even more intriguing event to come... but now, finish your drink. Tell my cousin I wish to see him."

That displeasure's tangible enough to ruffle Solith's fea... wings in discomfort, muzzle ducking closer to the elder green for comfort even if she might know that they aren't the cause. It's not reflected in Telavi's pose, and if Edeline is condescending, the greenrider doesn't appear to take notice, much less affront; she is Tillek, after all. And besides, she's given Tela such intriguing bits, enough to visibly brighten the greenrider's smile-- Keroon!-- and bring added interest to those blue-today eyes... even if she doesn't get everything, her slight, playful moue acknowledging that the Lady's caught her out in curiosity. And if talking to N'gan isn't high on her to-do list, she still acknowledges with a smiling, "Of course, my lady." No pounding her drink here, but all but dismissed as she is, it won't be long at all before she bows herself out.

Cadejoth is apologetic, and it does ease up as, finally, his rider is off towards the Hold buildings, leaving the bronze to launch himself skywards once more. That this is much better is plainly obvious: the wind rustles past his sails and blows away all that impatience, just like that. "I do so hope that my daughter will have playmates, in time," murmurs the Lady, rather a non-sequitur, albeit a smiling one. "Thank you for your visit, Greenrider. Have them send the Acting Weyrleader in, won't you?" Sure enough, K'del is just on the approach, outside the formal sitting room, having managed to rescue his hair from wind and helmet both.

Playmates. It sounds so harmless, cheerful even, possibly implying a sibling for Tillek on its way; Telavi's smile for K'del as they cross paths is both bright and quick, accompanied as it is with a snappy salute since they're in public and it's formal time. It'll only be later, when the pair's soared up to join Cadejoth for a few circles before winking between, that the other implications wind up in Solith's diffident question: « If your rider has time for news after they speak, would you let me know, Cadejoth? She can find lunch, if it would help. »

A serious forward tipping of his head and matched salute answer Telavi's acknowledgement as they pass, before he disappears into the lady's sitting room for whatever awaits. Whatever it is, there's no suggestion of it in Cadejoth as he circles with Solith, nor even upon receipt of her question, afterwards. « He can find the time, » the bronze answers, confidently, quickly enough that there can be suggestion as to the rider's involvement in the answer... or perhaps simply a suggestion of the rider's interest. « Lunch could help. There are other places to go, later. Where? »

Solith's sunnier for that assurance, or maybe it's reassurance; she pops into nothingness and then, several beats later, sends the vision: an orchard east of here, or so says the angle of the sun across the higher reaches of its isolated valley, better-kept than Nabol. Her pleasure isn't solely her own when she adds, « It will be no hardship to wait, » for all that she's got to fetch that added lunch first.

In answer, there's a sense of the surge of Cadejoth's wings, and the gusty winds beneath them, as he explores these summer skies; it will be no hardship for him, either, though the same may not necessarily be true of his rider. Will Solith be pleased to know that the bronze does not tease those incoming ships by dive-bombing or circling, during the time it takes for his rider to meet with Tillek's lady? He considers it admirable restraint. Finally, there's the shared sense of downward momentum and the promise that, « We will be there shortly. » Sure enough, it's only a few minutes later when the pale bronze appears, just barely outlined by the sun behind him.

Solith likes surges, so say the bright sparkles along the fringes of his sending, made brighter yet for the very idea of teasing those ships. Even if he didn't do it. Sigh. « They would like to look at you, » she points out as though it were true. Nor is she less sparkly when they appear, « I see you! » She's been sunning, but she's quick to leap up and join the bronze before he lands. Her rider's sitting crosslegged, on the very edge between sun and shade, divvying up the food onto napkins set out on the blanket before her: not a lot of any one thing, and in fact separated more-or-less into halves-- the smaller 'halves' closer to her-- with what's recognizably one rider's lunch from the lower caverns substantially supplemented by foraged this-and-that. The additions are fruit, mostly, but also a couple hunks of still-warm, buttered bread, and a couple token greens. Tela can't help but smile upward as she tracks their approach, too-- glad-- though a ghost of concern hasn't entirely abandoned her brow.

Cadejoth, at least this time, is untempted. Mostly. Which doesn't mean that he's not easily seduced into more energetic flight when Solith rises to join him, her presence prompting a few enthusiastic not-quite-circles before, not without reluctance, he glides down to land. « And here we are, » he agrees, somewhere along the way, mantling his wings just so. "Tela," says K'del, swinging down to the ground, his formal riding jacket already being untoggled and removed. "Hey. Lunch."

Solith hasn't landed again. Solith wants to know, « Are you staying down there? » Down there, like it's some foreign land. Her rider glances briefly up to the green, what she can see of her against the bright sunlight, then laughs K'del's way. "A reward for your survival. Was it terribly arduous?"

K'del puts on a pained expression, though a glance at his eyes will suggest that most of it is well and truly put on. "Terribly," he agrees. "It always is with Edeline, even when it's going well. Guess we'll always have to dance around each other... not that I can blame her for wanting a scapegoat for her boy's death." He's more solemn as he admits that, though it doesn't last. He steps away from Cadejoth and the bronze immediately throws himself into the air once more. « I am not, » he says, firmly. « I'll catch you! »

« Oh, good! » And if he's going to do that, Solith's going to start him on a merry chase, over hills and down into dales and then up, up, up again, at least until he catches up or she's convinced something else is more fun. Or distracted. Telavi's certainly distracted by that whole scapegoat business, complete to the sympathetic crinkle of her nose. "Then take it easy for a little while at least, why don't you, now that you've done your duty. She doesn't seem the most open-armed woman even with her favorites, though maybe it's different in private. Hopefully it's different." For someone's sake.

"You have to wonder what she's like with that husband of hers," agrees K'del, abruptly grinning as he drops into a cross-legged position across from the greenrider. "But they managed two children, so-- anyway. Not my business, right? She's good for Tillek, and she's definitely an interesting person to deal with. How did your talk with her go? You're... still reporting in on N'gan's kid, aren't you?" Cadejoth, above, doesn't seem to much mind where they go: it's all about getting to go (and go, and go, and go).

Go go go! While Solith wears herself out, Telavi's suddenly put her hands over her eyes, though she does irrepressibly peek through. "Not mine either. Not that she's not lovely, and gracious," she adds punctiliously, and then sighs, and glances after the dragons again as though that would make the rest all go away. "That was the thing. I'm to tell N'gan to go visit her, basically, and she said something about hoping her daughter will have... 'playmates,' that was the word. So I thought, well, maybe she's pregnant again, or looking out for a fosterer, but you know... what if it's poor Quigan she wants? Or maybe not-so-poor, in that case."

One of K'del's hands had been reaching out with the obvious intention of taking some of the bread, but it pauses as Telavi continues, and as the bronzerider freezes, his face turned up towards the greenrider's even from the awkward angle of his lean. "Could be," he agrees, carefully. "Quigan must be... a turn old, now, a little more? But it might just be that she hopes he'll bring the child to visit more often, since they're, well, cousins of some sort. Doesn't necessarily mean she's wanting to take him away from his mother or anything, surely." Hopefully.

Perhaps it's the very awkwardness that contributes to Telavi's fleeting, softer smile. Once properly somber again, "I hope that's it. At least, I think I hope. It's not as though Quie's... so wrapped up in him, you know? If it weren't for him, I think she'd have less to do with the boy. But after all that-- and her family-- the Lady could give him a lot. A lot more than we could, really. Did she breathe a word to you?"

"Being a parent and a rider can be... difficult, sometimes," allows K'del, very briefly looking very tired - and it can't be surprising, really, not between the Acting Weyrleader gig and the well known fact that he's at Fort as often as he can be. "And Quielle's young. She's a good rider, I think, sometimes, she's just afraid of missing her chances. But no, she said nothing to me." Now, finally, he takes that piece of bread. "We just talked about tithes and Conclaves, really."

If Telavi plans to comment, seeing that, she doesn't yet. What she wants to know is, "If she did minimal duties, to spend more time with the baby, do you think that F'manis would keep those opportunities open for her?" Would he? Belatedly, she snags a piece of fruit, fingertips dancing over the little pile choosily before finally taking one.

K'del hesitates, mulling over his answer, and then takes a bite of the bread - which rather serves to give him more time to think. "It would delay any chance of those opportunities," he says, finally. "It set her apart, early on, and it's not quite so... there's plenty of riders with children, plenty who aren't weyrmated or anything, but she hasn't wanted to foster full-time, and yes, of course that makes a difference." It's a politician's answer, and he seems conscious of it, wrinkling his nose.

"'The girl who... kept her baby as a weyrling,' yes. So she has reason to be worried." Telavi says it more regretfully than anything, a downcast curve to her lips as she turns the fruit over in her fingers, one-handed. When she glances up to him, just her eyes, it's to say, "You look tired, too."

"It's unfair, isn't it?" murmurs K'del, but there's a sense of resignation to both his words and his expression: it is what it is. "Well, of course I'm tired. Sometimes... shells, Tela, it feels like I'm living multiple lives, all at once, you know? One on top of another. And now there's some of the wings shooting daggers at me because of the whole farming thing, but at least we're going to eat this winter." He exhales. "Sorry. It's just... yes, I'm very tired."

Something about that, something about him-- Telavi unfolds herself enough to sit nearer to K'del, not close but closer. She has a muted sort of nod, too. "I can only imagine." Can she ever. "Not that I'm not glad to be out of farming, myself," the weyrling-wrangler admits with purposeful humor in the light lift and fall of her shoulders. "But-- I know it's not just literal, tired, but would you like to take a nap? I could wake you after a bit. Fresh air, sunshine, but," the faintest dimple, "no sunburn." Thanks to shade.

His gaze follows her, initially curious but showing no indications of wanting to interrupt her. The offer has his gaze dropping towards the bread in his hand, which he turns over and over again. Then, "Wouldn't that rather make me bad company?"

Considering him, she says simply, "You're tired." Her smile's more in her voice, in the slight lift of her cheeks, than even her mouth. "And it's a nice day. It's not a trick question." She won't even drum it to the harpers, probably.

"Well," he begins, letting the word hang in the air for a few seconds before a decisive nod answers her offer. "Guess I can't turn that down. Not that your company isn't-- but just for a little while. Then I should find out how you are." His gaze sort of slides back up towards her, then, as though he's thinking of something in particular, but he stops himself.

Her easy shrug is sublimely unconcerned: she doesn't intend to get sunburned either, and if he doesn't inquire, it's still no skin off her nose. "Now the crucial question, K'del," Telavi says to him, and now the dimple shows. "Finish eating, or nap first."

The bread in his hand gets a considering glance. "Nap," he says, abruptly grinning. "But don't let that stop you from eating."

"I won't," Tela assures, giving him his very own smile right back. "If I want to." She does reach over and start covering things up, at least, from bugs or leaves or stray firelizards, and then pats her lap for a pillow. Solith's happy, too: flying, and sunshine.

K'del does eat the bread he's already got in his hands, and wipes those hands on his trousers after he's finished. The invitation to Telavi's lap makes him smile all over again; he stretches out, finding himself a comfortable position to recline in, his head tilted up towards her. Nor does it take long for his eyes to flutter closed, and his breathing to change. Out like a light, really.

Perhaps a better woman than Telavi would refrain from, idly, playing with his hair as he falls asleep; but then, where's the harm? She watches over K'del more than watching him, though occasionally she does look down, and smile; after a while, her free hand slips back to brace her as she leans back, thinking her own thoughts. Embroidery patterns, maybe, or Tillek, or-- oh, all sorts of things, if indeed she's thinking at all. If, once, she has to flex her knee a little so it doesn't fall asleep, she's careful to try not to disturb him.

It's a while later, maybe an hour or maybe half again as much, that there's a merry little zephyr that's Solith inquiring of Cadejoth: « Should we wake him? She suspects she ought, but... wouldn't it be nicer if you did it. Without scaring him, » she thinks belatedly to add.

K'del... sleeps. Sleeps like Iska so frequently does not. Above, Cadejoth lets a downdraft carry him, his wings positioned just so; there are merry bells in the answer he offers to Solith. « He should wake, » he agrees. « He is - or, anyway, he's getting there. I'll give him a nudge. » Yes, yes: without scaring him. He must manage that much, for the bronzerider's eyes flutter open again a few moments later, and the ghost of a smile soon after.

Telavi's not staring at him while he performs this complicated ritual, but she is peeking, just out of the corner of her eye in a way that becomes another smile. He must not be drooling, or if he is, it's in a highly entertaining way. « Thank you, » and Solith can't seem to resist looping by those bells to see if they'll swing that little bit more. Once Tela's spotted that K'del's awake enough to look, though, her gaze drifts amusedly away: give the man a little privacy.

One of his hands lifts to his mouth, wiping away the drool that may or may not actually be there, as, blinking, K'del attempts to seek out Telavi's gaze - or at least work out where it's pointed at. "Thank you," he says, managing not to croak, though he makes a face all the same.

And that smile widens until she can't help but quietly laugh. "My pleasure," Tela assures, peeking all over again, but leans back a little more so that there's that much more room for him to sit up when he's ready. Or maybe it's to laugh again, to the sky this time. She hadn't been looking anywhere in particular, as it happens, just off and away. The hand that had been playing with his hair goes up, up, over her head and with the stretch she yawns. "Not too long?"

It takes K'del a few more seconds to gather himself enough to sit - in the end, it seems prompted by that yawn of hers, which seems to amuse him. "Not too long," he confirms, performing a stretch of his own once he's safely vertical again. "Is that a yawn of 'my turn for a nap'?" His tone is teasing, affectionately so.

"Maybe," Tela says with transparently-feigned guilt, complete to the side-eyeing and the drawing out of that first vowel. "Though I should get back, eventually. I suppose they might miss me, one of these Turns."

"Surely you're their favourite weyrlingmaster," retorts K'del, still teasing. "The young one who actually remembers being in a similar stage of life. You'd've been mine, anyway." His gaze turns from her, but only to glance at the sky, as if now attempting to gauge exactly how long has passed. "You're liking it, I hope?"

"Until I cut their hair," Telavi says with a sigh that's all tragedy. "Why, thank you. I do like being liked, but there's the whole--" she shrugs slightly, and says lightly, "respect thing, too. It's certainly a change, and I'm sure I'm learning," that last word a little more openly amused.

K'del's mouth twitches. "Mirry may never forgive you for that one," he admits, referencing his niece, whose long, dark hair is no longer. And of the rest? "Mmm. It's a difficult one. The respect thing. But as long as you're learning, and it's all working out for you..." He's hesitating over something.

"I don't expect to be landing on your ledge, crying out for you to save me, put me in a wing, any wing," Telavi offers even more lightly than before, her brows quirking up in question-- that hesitation!-- that stays unvoiced. It's not quite as cheeky as it could have been, her, "...If only because I'm quite sure I'd have opinions as to which."

"As I recall, you had a preference, last time, which didn't quite get filled. We could maybe fix that, this time..." but K'del's still not being wholly serious, even if there's seriousness lurking in his expression. Then, after an exhale: "But clearly not Taiga. For... multiple reasons."

"Maybe," Tela says with another of those light shrugs of which she has such an assortment, this one a slightly different flavor than the last but akin to it all the same. She reaches back behind her neck, eyes unfocusing skyward as she retrieves a bit of grass from inside her collar; she's just about to flick it to join its still-living brethren when those blue-today eyes steal back to him. Telavi considers K'del a moment, two, before she says, "That's one wing off the list, then." She's said it more slowly, too, neither ducking from his gaze nor putting up a facade-- nor spilling whatever there really is to spill.

It's less seriousness in K'del's expression now, and rather more apology, like he's instantly started regretting even referencing anything. Her reaction has him exhaling, his gaze still focused upon her. Finally, with good humour that falls quietly flat, "Well, that makes it slightly easier, anyway." Except then he has to go and add, without any of that humour at all: "I'm sorry. Shouldn't even have-- anyway. Pretend I didn't say anything at all."

Her lips part, like she'd speak, only then K'del has more to say and so she waits him out. "I could," she says, "Only... I'd still know something's on your mind. What I don't know is whether I'm talking to the man, now, or the man who bears that knot."

"The knot's on my jacket, and I'm not wearing that," points out K'del, quickly, and with a sigh. It gets followed up with: "No, you're just talking to me, I promise. And it's not..." He stops. He looks awkwardly unhappy, the look aimed at the greenrider half pleading, though in a very non-specific kind of way.

Not like Telavi really needs to look over at his jacket, but she can't seem to help it, offering a faint smile when she looks back at him. "'And it's not'--" she repeats, surely not the way she might prompt a weyrling, gentle like that. Then all at once, "I'm sorry. You look-- sad," not at all like something that makes her happy. Which still doesn't mean she's started filling in blanks.

"Are you?" Sad, he seems to mean. K'del suddenly straightens, sitting up and leaning forward, half as though he's about to grab for her hand (though he doesn't). "Between Iska and Ali and the whole Acting Weyrleader thing, I never got the chance-- did K'zin ever get over himself? Are things okay between you, now?" He's... rather earnest about it, really.

The tilt of her head is equivocal, questioning-- so many things he could mean, and it had been a wonderful afternoon, surely-- and then K'del's sitting up like that and she's not so much sitting back as straighter, hands knotting themselves in her lap, bit of grass and all. Her pupils have grown larger, paring down the blue. "Get over himself? How do you mean?" only she's not pretending obliviousness, only needing... specifics. But for the last question, he might read the answer in Telavi's eyes first, even before the slight, subtle shake of her head.

K'del's exhale is a sigh, disappointed and exasperated all at once - though not, at least, at Telavi herself. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "He... told me, months and months ago. Hadn't known the two of you... guess I'd hoped he'd find a backbone, work out how to stand up to his dragon and... the way he talked, he really does care about you. So." A pause, an awkward one. "I'm sorry."

Not at her, and yet she can't help but react all the same, ducking her chin to study her interlaced hands, her shoulders curving in just a fraction. Eventually, while K'del's still talking, Telavi's gaze does lift again, but it's slowly. And it snaps blue fire to standing up. "I don't know how much you know, what there is to know," she says finally. "He might have done, I like to think he does, but as you say... months and months." That last word, it's emphasized by its very lack of emphasis, the threads of tension and frustration underlying her voice cut so it can approach calm. "And now... well."

K'del's next sigh just sounds sad: no more exasperation, just plain, apparently heartfelt, sorrow. "He's an ass," he says, finally. "And - shells, it's not my business, any of it, and maybe I shouldn't've brought it up--"

That gets a tremulous smile. "No, tell me," Telavi's quick to interject. "And so you know," since he seems like he's the kind of man who might care, and she knows another who certainly would, "You and me, when we... it was never at the same time. Not like--" but K'del doesn't need to know all the details of whom she did or didn't see and when and everything, but, "Not when I was seeing anyone even a bit seriously."

No, K'del definitely does not. His lips part into something that could almost count as a smile, however wry. "I - take it he doesn't know about me. It was a little weird hearing, I won't deny that."

"No." That comes quickly, even urgently, which in turn makes Telavi laugh and hide her face and yes, always peek out from her fingers. "No." It's a little more decorous this time. "Do I... want to know what all you heard?"

It makes K'del laugh, too, and then grin at Telavi, through her fingers and all. "He wasn't explicit about anything," he promises. "And I certainly didn't ask for details. Know you were his first, but that's about the extent of it. And... honestly, it doesn't bother me. Weird at first, sure, but... just so you know. Though it's probably better if he never finds out."

"Good." And, "Good." And with a quieter relief, "I'm glad," by way of variation, until Telavi's abruptly nodding. "Never, ever. If I can help it." Half-amused, she even lifts a hand to wiggle her littlest finger where he can see it: pinky-swear?

Pinky-swear, really? But really, it just makes K'del laugh - laugh, and say, "Shells, I haven't done that since my sister and I were kids," not that it prevents him from reaching out now to formalise the agreement. "Never, ever," he promises, seriously.

Telavi's laughing too, and she claims, "Same here. Well, minus the sister, but-- it is funny. And, you know, most of my weyrlings would use spit," so clearly this is preferable, even on top of making her sound more mature and less... like a weyrling. Once it's all sealed, she sits back more comfortably, hands palm-up and loose on top of each other instead of in such a knot... and gives K'del an expectant look. "So you were saying. An ass... 'and'?"

Having made his promise, K'del doesn't seem to be in any rush to say more, his own hands dropping back to his knees, one draped over each of them. Telavi's expectant look, and the words that follow, abruptly make him laugh. "He's an ass," he confirms, repeats, agrees. "He's... shells, I did some stupid things when I was his age, but not that stupid. Yeah, I'm sure his dragon is being a pain in the balls, but you work that stuff out, you know? He's... well. Maybe he'll grow up, eventually."

"Yes!" Telavi exclaims right over that unabashed interest in those other things, and it would be triumphant if it weren't for the underlying sorrow. "You don't get all," and here she presses the back of her hand to her forehead, staring manfully off into the distance, "'It's for your own good! And I will not talk to you! Because you might... change my mind!'" There's a roll of her eyes right there.

"Seriously?" K'del's own eyes roll in an exaggerated fashion, and he shakes his head for good measure. "The dramatics that ma-- boy trends towards. If you care about a person, you try and make things work, even when it's difficult. And you sure as anything don't decide what's best for them."

"Thank you," said with Telavi's not-insubstantial nose in the air and a very firm nod to go with it, too. Though she has to drop the pose to admit, "Maybe there weren't those exact words, but that's what it was, and it--" she breaks off, pressing her lips together so the lower one won't tremble. One. Two.

"Oh, Tela," breathes K'del, exaggeration forgotten as, instead, he opens his arms in offering: there, if she wants them.

Telavi doesn't even make it to three, might not have even if she weren't taking him up on it, those warm enfolding arms. She shuts her eyes against the fine fabric of his shirt, but she doesn't pretend; she also doesn't say much for a little while.

K'del doesn't even try to say anything, not even potentially meaningless but still soothing platitudes. Instead, he simply wraps his arms tightly, so tightly, around the greenrider, and just holds her.

It's nice to be held. It's really, really nice. Especially, as Telavi comes to realize, by someone with such a finely woven shirt, and cotton no less. She pats it, then pets it, then sighs against K'del's chest. "Thank you. I feel so... silly, because it has been months, except sometimes there were blips and especially once... I don't know."

"You can't put time limits on grief," is K'del's opinion, one he's clearly come to honestly. His words are quiet, released into the world one by one in between low exhales that Tela will no doubt be able to feel. "And it's okay to feel it, really. It's all okay. You just have to... let it out, I guess."

"Sometimes 'letting it out' would sound an awful lot like yelling," Telavi admits, and she frees a hand to curve it around the steady muscle of his shoulder, leaning her forearm along its slope. "And it's not like it was--" the hitch of her shoulder is distinctly not away. "--Like yours." The famous one, anyway, that everyone knows about. "Did someone tell you that, or did you have to figure it out on your own?"

"Yelling can be productive, too," grins K'del, even if she can't see the grin. It's there in his voice, too, though the exhale that follows is a very clear illustration of the moment it disappears again. "A lot of people told me," he admits. "But I think I had to figure it out for myself, in the end. Had to learn to be okay with it, so I could feel it, and then let it go. It's hard. Sometimes... sometimes it's still hard, but it's better, now."

That wins a breathy laugh from her, even if that's barely longer-lived. "I'm glad it's better," Tela says simply. "Part of what's hard here, too, is that... there's no right to be annoyed." There's the slightest pause before 'annoyed,' possibly the safest of the many words she could pick. "And I don't want you to think that I just... mope." The way she says that, it's abhorrent, for her.

K'del hesitates, his brow furrowing. "Why's there no right?" Despite the question, he's quick to tack on a sentiment that may make it irrelevant: "Wouldn't ever think of that. You were doing just fine until I brought it up; we were having a lovely time, weren't we? And honestly, even if we hadn't been... it's the last thing I can imagine, of you. Honestly."

"We were," though it's that last that truly transforms into a smile, something that warms, "You say the nicest things," and does Telavi really have to say that a moper is one of the last things she wants to be? She does, in the end, even go back to K'del's earlier question, even though the reply comes with an uncomfortable half-shrug before she leans her head on his shoulder again; "It's not like there were... promises. Just people going their separate ways, so it should be fine. It's usually fine, you know? Occasionally there might be a few days' pique but that's 'piquant' in its way, you could say," and certainly the word choice if nothing else lets her smile. "And then friends want explanations for why it should matter and then there's the," Telavi spares K'del the 'yes he's built but' part that goes before, "'he wasn't any good anyway,' and that doesn't help." Not to compare it to a few sevendays' hookup except for the part where she totally is.

Making a face, K'del gives Telavi a squeeze, as one hand shifts so that he can stroke her hair, gently. "No one else gets the right to tell you how you should feel about it," he insists. "Or whether he was any good. Or... shells. It's just... when you care about someone, you can't just turn that off. Whatever happens." Beat. "I'm glad it's usually fine, though. I am."

"Says the man who was just talking about how he's being such a boy," Telavi can't help but tease, even through the lovely, lovely hair-stroking that moments before yielded a warm wordless murmur of how it's nice. "And! That's another thing. Someone says that, either of those, and I want to say he's going through, he's gone through a lot, because he really has," and she must trust that K'del knows at least a little of that, "and point out the good parts, and that's not their business either and not even mine to tell." She cocks her head, then, as though listening: is she done? She might be done! "I think that's it," as though he could stop wondering when she was going to shut up now.

The tease makes K'del grin, unrepentant, though his expression turns more serious again as he listens, intent and intense. "Sometimes," he says, finally, "we're terrible at assuming we understand, or know better, or just... have a right to tell someone how to feel. And I'm as bad as anyone else, a lot of the time. But."

"But," Telavi choruses, like the good apprentice she never was.

"But," repeats K'del, "I guess I know both of you. And as much as I think he's being an idiot over this, and hate that he's making you unhappy, it doesn't mean I think... that you shouldn't be, or anything. Do hope you find happiness, with him, when he gets his act together, or with someone else. That's all."

Under other circumstances, Tela could be rankled, all 'So glad I have your permission!'-- but here, she just nudges her head into his hand for more of that. "Thank you. For drawing that out. I feel better. And I am happy, it's just..." What's the word?

"Hard," he supposes, as his fingers continue stroking at her hair, his brief nod one of understanding. "Sometimes, anyway. When you think about it too much."

"Sometimes," Tela agrees. "Yes. It's gotten easier, these months," plus or minus blips. "Clearly the solution is not thinking," and that flourishes into a warmer chuckle.

Grinning, K'del says, "I'm told the answer is usually not thinking... but I've never been any good at that. Hard to stop, somehow, even when I ought to. Thinking, and feeling, too. But at least you've the weyrlings to keep you busy, and-- friends, and all the rest."

There's another, quieter chuckle, and another. "That sounds like what we were supposed to say when looking for wings, if we were ever asked what our major fault is," Tela's reminded. "'Oh, I think too much!' 'Oh, I work too hard!'"

"Faranth forfend we have any real flaws," agrees K'del, serious, except really not at all. "Can't let anyone know that. Wingleaders, of course, are absolutely perfect."

"Indeed." And, all right, that's a giggle. "Perfect in absolutely every way," Telavi agrees. Daringly, for all that K'del isn't technically himself a wingleader, "Even when they've had beans for dinner three nights in a row, it still smells like flowers."

"Oh," says K'del, deadpan, "That's nothing. Or haven't you been put on latrine duty, rescuing the solid gold bricks?"

"What?!" Telavi mock-exclaims. "I could have pilfered some! But I heard they were gold firelizard eggs."

K'del's snort is dismissive, and eerily close to sounding serious. "Who would choose to shit gold firelizard eggs, when they could have gold bricks and be genuinely rich? No, no. They just buy the firelizard eggs."

By contrast, Telavi's all but dissolving in laughter. "My mistake. That makes much more sense now. ...Oh!" She must have been reminded, for here she smiles up at K'del. "You were going to tell me about the stupid things you did, too," quite as though he actually was. Quite as though it would be fun.

"Was I?" K'del gives Tela a look that could almost be described as wary... except that he smiles, a moment later.

"You were," and Telavi promptly dimples at him, though it mightn't be the easiest to see at this angle. "At least one. I hoped. Although if you swapped the salt out with the sweetening... I've heard that one."

K'del makes a scoffing sound. "You think I'd be that predictable, truly? No. Let my girlfriend's ex-boyfriend scare me off; that was stupid. Let Tiriana intimidate me, which, frankly, was very stupid."

"I sense a theme," Telavi points out ingenuously, never mind the timbre that's so close to laughter.

"Much like your former lover," says K'del, in a way that suggests he's trying to protect his honour, "I was still a teenager at the time. Oh - here's a good one. Let Ali convince me she'd got her weyrleaders on board with the whole getting rid of Tiriana thing, in exchange for us backing away from Boll, and since Ali is basically the worst liar in the world..." This time, he laughs. "Believed H'kon might've been involved in Iolene's murder, too. Shells, my life's basically one big stupid thing after another." But at least he's smiling about it.

Does he have to use that word? Telavi's nostrils may flare, and she shifts just slightly there in his lap, but it's momentary; she's all too ready to be charmed into near-laughter all over again. "Did she really. But you forgave her. And H'kon... I'm glad he wasn't. Just think of how worse it all would have been without you, though. Nobody helping Nabol at all, they'd still be at it. And Tiriana, she'd have gotten into a fist-fight with... who would have been the worst? The Weyrwoman of Telgar, maybe, at a hatching? Or Lady Edeline..."

K'del's nod confirms that yes, of course he forgave Ali, and maybe he'd elaborate on that, but the rest has him looking awkward, and then more awkward still. "Maybe," he says, uncertainly, as though he's not convinced of his own usefulness, but doesn't want to make a big thing of it. Still, he has to smile for that description of Tiriana's potential antics. "Reckon I can see her doing that," he admits. "She... sometimes I'm surprised she hasn't done more. She sent me a letter, after Iolene died. She and Iovniath... it's like they found vindication in it." He shivers, despite the warmth of the afternoon.

And that isn't a laughing matter at all. "Vindication?" Tela breathes unhappily. "Over her dying?" Likely she'd caught the awkwardness too, but this must trump.

"Yes," breathes K'del, his eyes closing unhappily, in recollection. "Burnt the letter, of course, and never replied. But... it's exactly like her. Like them both. It worries me, that they'll try something again. If I end up as Weyrleader properly."

Of course. "I'm sorry," Telavi says, and turns her head just enough to kiss his shoulder, there through his shirt. Settling in again, "Do you worry about that much, the 'if's?"

That gesture makes K'del smile, and has him exhaling, too, a lengthy one that seems to leave him calmer, afterwards. "Try not to," he admits, which says a lot about his success, really.

"Mmm." It's a bit knowing, but considerably more sympathetic. "So many worries. I'd say, you should stop worrying so much," Tela teases softly, "except then you might worry about that too."

Gently, but teasingly, K'del tugs at Tela's hair. "You shut up," he says. "Yes, yes. Worry less, take things as they come, just deal. I'll try, okay?"

Not her hair! A hand races to cover his with her own, and Telavi sits back enough to give K'del wide, woeful eyes. "Mmmph," she says through her closed lips; after all, she'd been told to shut up.

Wide, woeful eyes are a terrible weapon to wield against K'del; he positively squirms. Wilfully, "But I will do my best, and okay, you can talk again, now. And I won't pull your hair, either." It's a promise.

So of course the first thing Telavi says-- after she's done looking relieved, and ever so grateful for being freed-- is, "No?" and dimple at him just a little.

K'del has dimples, too, and he utilises them now. "No. For now, anyway."

"Well, that's all right then," Telavi says comfortably, and then stretches, and stretches some more. Tipping her head back like that, she might even get a better look at the sky, and the angle of the sun.

Tipping her head back like that only makes K'del sigh, and take a glance at the sky of his own accord; he clearly doesn't like what he sees. "Ought to get moving," he admits, reluctantly. "More visits to make. More... well, you know. Things to do. And you've your weyrlings."

"Things," Tela agrees without looking down; she might even just be repeating, never really having heard at all, but then she adds more darkly, "Weyrlings," and now finally smiles back at him. "That means getting up," she points out, but she's already started to unfold herself, albeit slowly.

"They're not that bad, I hope," says K'del, but not without smiling sympathy. Getting up - that's less fun, and though he withdraws his arms, he's slow to do much more, at least to begin with. "This has been fun," he adds, then. "Even with everything."

He would have to add that, but Telavi can't help but smile anyway. "Maybe not so long until next time," she puts out there rather than demand more of his time, the greenrider by now back to kneeling on the blanket and gathering up the mostly-untouched food. "And take some of this with you, so you can eat on the way-- no, they're not that bad mostly, but one of the perks is getting to be long-suffering, I'm told-- just return the wraps to the kitchens."

"Hopefully," agrees K'del, of the timing of their next visit, an unspoken promise laid out in the firmness of his nod, and the warmth of his smile. "Yes, mother," he adds of the food, dimples showing again, though perhaps they're also for her remark on the weyrlings; in either case, he does take some of the food.

For that? Telavi makes a face and throws a plum at him. Of course, she had just said she'd share.

In answer, K'del has to drop the food he's gathered to try and defend himself-- he doesn't quite manage to catch it, but it also doesn't smash on his nice, relatively clean shirt, so that's something. He promptly sticks out his tongue.

Smashing on his lovely shirt might have horrified Tela. As it is, she only has to look, well. Vindicated. But not in the killing-off-goldriders sort of way.

Much better that he managed to avoid it, then. The plum, now safely in his hand, gets tossed up into the air once, caught, and then bitten into. Her vindication? That just makes him grin, plumily. "Thank you for lunch, Tela. We'll catch up again, soon." But now... he really does have to go.

Telavi weighs a second one in her hand, eyes K'del narrowly at that showy catch... and then puts it back into her own sack with a distinct smile; she has to have something to eat too, of course. "Clear skies!" It's traditional for a reason, after all, and she waves him off: yes, she'll clean up after them. He's got that jacket on again. That jacket, that knot. And she knows where everything goes.

"Clear skies!" agrees K'del, lifting one arm in farewell, something like an official salute, as Cadejoth rumbles a farewell of his own. They blink between soon after taking flight, disappearing into the afternoon.

And well-sunned Solith, once they have returned to the 'Reaches, will have earned her rest.