Difference between revisions of "Logs:Don't You Always"

Iesaryth watched Aishani put soft-soled boots in a bag, sling it over her shoulder to head across the bowl and inside wearing clunkier ones. Iesaryth knew it was because of the mud; she'd switch them off as soon as she could. The better for her nighttime creeping through the stores to make sure they wouldn't starve to death, not that it was ever an issue; for her slipping through the caverns to eavesdrop on anyone she could.

« Where are you going? »

I have something I need to do.

« Don't you always. »

Shan just eyed her for a moment, lips pursed, then walked out. Iesaryth issued forth a hefty draconic sigh.

She'd rather Shan just try to be happy. There were times where they'd argued, especially after they'd found Vhaeryth and his, where everything seemed nearly ideal, when Iesaryth had wondered to Shan, why bother now? Why not just keep the things you have, not risk anything else? Though she knew Shan had sometimes been exasperated with Hraedhyth's (and Iesaryth with Hraedhyth, let's be honest here), she knew hers cared for the other woman, enough to try to keep her at arm's length at first, knowing that betrayal was inevitable.

Iesaryth never saw it as inevitable. She saw all the paths Aishani could take, the endless possibilities to make things different, if not better. She saw, she told, but she wouldn't push. She remembered - or pulled from Shan's mind, did it matter? - once when they'd talked about it again, endlessly, Iesaryth finding the holes in the plans as always. She remember asking why she couldn't just stop, just leave it alone. The guilt for Iolene and Ysavaeth weighed on Aishani heavily then, not that things had changed, but it was newer at the time, and Iesaryth hated it.

Shani'd said, Don't ever tell me to let go, or to ease up, or to forgive. Not when I'm standing here in the place where my father was murdered. Where I had to condemn someone to the same, and break my promise to him.

And she couldn't, not again. Despite the fact that she felt the hurt Aishani felt every time someone she'd liked turned away from her now; despite the fact that her Shan, so quick and bright and in desperate need of love, of family, had done everything, sacrificed so much for people that rejected her.

Iesaryth hated them for that, too. She hated that they'd hate Shan because of her and hated that they'd condemn her because of some other queen, some other dragons that were probably following orders. Not that she used that argument with Shan, or told her much about it. That was something she kept to herself.

The queen went to settle herself on her ledge, to watch the darkened bowl as was her custom, while her mind followed Aishani, considered her plan to talk to Tacuseth's and the pros and cons, thought over the differences between her progeny, all so clever, thankfully - and on and on. Iesaryth's mind was agile enough to maintain multiple lines of thought; the fish beneath the surface of her ocean.

Cadejoth, who she'd never much liked, had hit on an uncomfortable truth when he'd said he and his thought Shan's life had been wasted. She didn't agree necessarily... but what drove Shan was pure anger, a deep need to settle a score that had been born in her when she was a child. Iesaryth had always worried about what would come next. Though she hoped that Vhaeryth's would have some little influence over her future plans - as he tended to - the queen still wasn't terribly certain that Shan was entirely done with the darkness in her. The way she thought couldn't be changed that easily.

And she still thought like a woman with something to hide.