Difference between revisions of "Logs:Escorts"

Aishani and Iesaryth's Weyr

This hollowed out bubble cavern is large enough to fit at least three large dragons, the immensity dwarfing the spartan furnishings and decor - there's an awful lot of open space. A small portion of the room contains a personal bath, enclosed by a carefully carved out strip of rock wall. Faint tendrils of stream waft from the corner, permeating the immediate area with a merging of warmth and cooler temperatures.

In the outermost room, a large stone table is centered in the entranceway, five chairs of wicked wood surrounding it, nearby an old elevator-pulley trap door to the kitchens. The further corner forms the ledge entrance; nearer the baths is a grouping of stands and ceiling hooks that hold a collection of lush, green plants and hanging brightly coloured glass beads. Just next to the greenery is a large glassed-in bookshelf built into the well, filled with books, dishes and glassware, an impressive variety of liquor, and very few keepsakes. In front of the shelves and near the small, neat hearth sit two large, cozy-looking leather armchairs with a low table between them.

Behind a curtain made of more coloured glass beads is a smaller, blue-wash walled room, mostly filled by the big bed made up in shades of blue to match, and lots of pillows. Hanging on the wall over it is a large, beautifully made quilt, its deep blue oceanic tones broken only by the gold of sunbeams in rounded patterns, circling sunbursts in azure shades. At the foot of the bed is a ornately carved chest that matches the sweet redwood wardrobe that stands along the far wall. A short tunnel from this room leads into another that is a little larger, containing an ornate desk and set of shelves that are both almost too neatly organized to be believed - a cozy, private study nonetheless.

"I should have made better friends with the /cooks/," N'rov laments, poking desultorily at a flaccid, slightly greyish roast; it may fall apart beneath his fork, but not in a good way. "But the aunties came to me. It was so much easier." At least the company can't be beat, and in her own weyr where no one has to perform for their audience. Even the minion has vacated the premises, unless Shani's taken to keeping her in a closet.

"Either they didn't say anything about who it was for, or there's no one who likes me working tonight." Aishani doesn't even bother poking at it, just bypassing the whole thing and covering it with her napkin, the dearly departed, etcetera. It is something to be away from the sands (though Iesaryth is not too demanding about her presence) with decent bread and proper glasses at least. She'll just stick to that and the wine. Though after some of both, she eyes him suspiciously. "Or doesn't like you."

"They're blessing your name because they got the night off," N'rov teases her. "Tomorrow it's going to be," interrupted by a laugh for the napkin-covered presentation before he gets back to, "a veritable feast. Which would you rather have, after all? A fantastic feast once in a seven, or ho-hum every day? If they don't like me, though," and here he eyes her and draws out the pause, "what can I say. There's no accounting for 'taste.'"

Rather than be so formal as to sit across from him, Shani's in the chair next to N'rov, where she can now shed her boots to slide long legs up and into his lap. After a sip from her glass, "I think I'd go for something decent every day, but there's nothing to be done about either some people's skills or tastes in regard to food or company. You seem to be doing a decent job of ingratiating yourself, though I don't like how often I'm apparently missing you wandering around without your shirt." She doesn't quite pout, instead asking, "Do you think you could manage for a bit on your own again?"

N'rov even puts his napkin atop her ankles, so they won't risk even the slightest contamination. "How long a bit? Now that you've gotten oiling into Vhaeryth's head," because clearly it was her doing, "I don't know how long I'll be able to put him off. But I can try to make the sacrifice." He grins at her, too. "Unless you were planning to disappear after the oiling was over and done."

There's a flash of of a smile for that napkin, though the bread Shani is eating no doubt leaves some crumbs on the rest of her clothes. Sharpening into a smirk, "I don't think that he needs any help, does he? And will you have to go over there tonight?" After they've escaped? That might bring a pout. "Not for long - just a few hours. And it doesn't have to be now, just sooner than later. I ought to speak to Ienavi, and I might take Jo with me. Just in case the people in charge decide against support, or take their time about deciding."

"No, not tonight. At least," and N'rov gives her and her maybe-pout a dry look, "if we stop talking about it. Let's talk about your plan. I suppose I can wait to oil outside of that window, yes. Are you going to ride Iesaryth, then, let her get a change of scenery?" Remind them who they're dealing with? "Better if you have an escort, I agree, especially now that I've met her."

"Iesaryth doesn't much like the idea of me doing otherwise. And the thought is to have a change in scenery, yes. Mostly because she'd actually like one." Aishani doesn't seem too concerned about any need to remind Ienavi who she's dealing with, for what it's worth. Arching fine brows at him, "An escort to Healer, really? I mostly want Jo to escort Ienavi, she and her people in lieu or support of whatever is assigned 'officially'. I want to make sure that I'm involved in and responsible for what happens. I need..." No. "I could use a Holder's support and I could use someone inclined to help with business, if need be."

"One or two or several," N'rov speculates. He's made his way through the majority of the food, can't afford not to, but now he sits back with the last, palate-cleansing bread of his own. With a shrug, "I was talking to someone and got to thinking again about what happened at Fort with the eggs, with the weyrwomen, all of it. So yeah, if you bring her, that makes it that much easier to get behind. Even if she's going to be sticking with the Lady instead. Sounds like it'll be a good deal for all of you."

Lightly, "I'm glad that you like her." Shani risks losing the napkin to poke him in the stomach with her toe, adding, "Jo." Just in case. She supposes N'rov likes her if he trusts the bluerider as an escort in the first place. "Not for good, just... when Ienavi needs to be out and around. With the sort of people involved in all this, I think Jo might be best suited." There's a pause before, "It's not the same, with me. But I don't go around on my own all the time either."

It's a toe he aims to capture, to hold hostage for her good behavior. "No, you don't," N'rov agrees. He slides his plate away with finality. "You can take care of yourself better than she can, I'm sure. Still," the bronzerider shrugs. "It's not like I care about her, see. You think Ienavi can handle your Jo? Wouldn't want a prettier, sweetly trained-up escort?"

He can have her toe, though it makes it difficult to slide over into his lap once he's pushed the plate away - instead, Shani settles for leaning forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder before a kiss there after. Looking up at him, "I can take care of myself better than most people, is my point. But I don't want you worried, either." There's a little wrinkle of her nose for the question, and only here will she allow, "That's part of the point. To see how it goes. But a guard isn't meant to be a lady in waiting, yes?"

Given that, N'rov settles for wiping his hands one at a time on his own napkin, then rubs his knuckle along her instep as she talks; though he pauses for her kiss, he resumes as she talks. "No, I wouldn't think so. Still, a woman like that gets attention. Maybe it's credit to Ienavi that she has her, but do you see her disappearing into the stone?"

There's a moment where she closes her eyes, then frees her foot so she can shift into his lap now, sliding arms around his neck. "No," Shani agrees. "I'm not sure it'll work necessarily, but she'd be the one I'd trust the most for it." There's a little shrug; what do you do. "Maybe the Weyr will go ahead with support anyway, unless Ienavi has somehow been... I don't know. I hope my association doesn't cause difficulties there, but maybe it's better if it does. I don't know anymore."

N'rov's pleased to make the trade, reaching around to tug her closer yet. She talks; he investigates the view. "Trust says a lot." He'd described the encounter, somewhat more fully than he had most of the others if still not everything, and less joking around or just plain teasing. "Maybe it will. Maybe it won't, but you're doing what you can, and that's going to make a difference." He grins against her collarbone. "Maybe they'll even feed you something good while you visit. Do you like her? Ienavi. Can you see yourself hobnobbing under other circumstances?"

Sighing in a way that seems to find the investigation pleasant, "It does. Hopefully enough to overlook... any personal differences." Shani tightens her hold on him, though one hand does find its way just in the collar of his shirt, warm on his skin. She didn't ask for him to fill in the blanks - there's some thing maybe she's meant to wonder about. "I'd just rather not see anything... anyone else get hurt, I suppose." Not to bring down the mood, but at least it's not death. "We can only hope. And I do like her, I think. Ienavi and her husband were still decent to me after everything. There's something to that."

It can't be death, there aren't any stairs handy. "Who'd have thought it," N'rov says after his nod for decency, his voice a warm caress. "Aishani, with the softest of hearts. Next thing I know, you'll be adopting orphaned baby canines and blaming it on me when anyone comes asking." He lifts his head to kiss her. "I hope it finishes soon. But what a place to go back to, in wintertime, you know?"

"Stop." Aishani's quiet, embarrassed, even with his tone so warm. After that kiss, she rests her forehead against his, admitting, "Too much of this, just the chaos, people being displaced. I know what that's like. And that's an issue besides, isn't it?" Going back there, in the winter. "There's only so many people that you can send back before spring in the first place." With a little shake of her head, "It's not my problem to solve. But I can't stop thinking about it." That's wry, though she'll point out, "You're welcome to try to distract me." More.

"If their lands were warmer, or if somewhere southern would suffer them to camp out on their beach... but then there's sanitation to consider," N'rov speculates. Though, "I'm glad it's not my problem either." If he looks away, as though he could see all the way to Fort and N'muir and those other problems, it's brief and soon enough he looks back to her. There's /something/ he can do, that she's invited him to do. "Why don't I try to distract you somewhere more comfortable," he says even as he moves to stand, using her weight as counterbalance with an eye to carrying her past the curtain and all the way to her room. And Vhaeryth will just have to cope because, as he says with humor, "This might take a while."

"Good." Vhaeryth, if he has to complain, will find sympathy in Iesaryth at least.