Logs:Song on a String
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| RL Date: 15 February, 2013 |
| Who: R'hin, Vienne |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: R'hin sets up a surprise for Vienne. She's not sure if she likes it. |
| Where: Harper Hall |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| It's early evening on the first day of the Turn when Leiventh's chilly voice stretches out towards Oswinth. The bronze is concise, but then that's normal, for him: « Yours should wear something nice. Come and join us. » There's a brief image of the sun setting over Harper Hall, distinctively unmistakable. He lingers long enough for an answer, with an air of patience about him. There's that hitch in Oswinth's endless buzz, his surprise at the foreign bronze's contact, though perhaps not all that much surprise. Without words, he gives Leiventh tacit acknowledgement of the invitation, and then there's distance as he confers with his rider. « We'll be there. » And so, as the sun begins to set over the Hall, the blue appears in the sky, an eye for the layout below. « Where should she meet him? » There's no surprise from Leiventh, as if he expected such an answer. Or more likely his rider did. « We wait in the courtyard. » Even down Fort way the weather's still chilly, though there's no snow falling. The courtyard is lit up with glowbaskets, and with the glowing gaze of Leiventh, who's settled on the inner space. A few apprentices pause to gawk, but not for long -- most of them seem in a hurry. R'hin's lounging against the bronze's side, casual pose at contrast with his finery, clothes suitable enough for a Turnover celebration. His head twists to track Oswinth as he appears above. The blue winds down through the air, landing a little distance away. On his back, Vienne takes a moment to comb the wind from her hair, to adjust the barrette clipping it back from her face. As she slides down, it is not in the most glamorous of dresses: gray, light material cinched at the waist, a cream colored cardigan adding a bit of warmth to something that might not be entirely weather appropriate. But at least there's a little bit of sparkle at her throat to dress it all up and the flight didn't ruin the loose curls in her hair. She stands beside Oswinth for a moment, her hand on the blue's cheek as she look across to R'hin with his casual lean and less-casual attire. She smiles at him. There's a rumbling, deep greeting from the bronze to the Reachian blue, the gleam of Leiventh's gaze cutting down to almost nothing as his eyes lid over. Pushing straight from his lean, R'hin's openly eyeing Vienne with appreciation, pale gaze intent on her as he strides over to quickly close the distance between them. There's a respectful nod for Oswinth, before he reaches to slip a hand around Vienne's waist. "I'm freezing my ass off out here," he oh-so-eloquently offers by way of low-voiced greeting, amusement in his voice, "And we're late. This way," a nod of head for the main entrance, before: "You clean up nicely. Who would've guess?" His tone is light, amused. After an answering rumble for both Leiventh and his rider, Oswinth quiet chuff is for his girl. She lets her fingers graze down that blue face and steps toward R'hin's reach, her smile pulling sly. "You should have tried wearing this over High Reaches," she remarks for his freezing ass. It's doubtless she's had a chilly flight and now she doesn't shy from standing close the bronzerider, for what little warmth or shelter his proximity can offer. His partial compliment wins only the twist of her mouth and as her eyes glance off toward the entrance, ready to head out of the cold, Vienne asks, "Are we expected?" Rather than answer her directly -- because this is R'hin -- he says with a boyish amusement: "Shall we see?" He sets a quick pace across the courtyard, his fingers settling comfortably at her waist. Inside, it's warmer, and down a short, familiar corridor is the entrance to the main hall. The room is packed, mostly with Harpers, but here and there are the knots of others coming to watch. At the front, a makeshift stage has been set up, and a familiar face -- one of Vienne's voice masters -- is currently mid-song, accompanied by a handful of other harpers on instruments. R'hin pauses long enough to orient himself -- and to dart a quick look in Vienne's direction -- then leads her around for a better angle closer to the front. It is a familiar corridor, familiar hall, and among the many harpers, there are familiar faces. Whether those that look at the two riders do so because they recognize her might be unclear, as Vienne doesn't appear to acknowledge anyone in particular. Perhaps they are more interested in her escort. It's probably not her understated dress, which hardly makes any impact among the finery of renowned masters and self-important students. The bluerider moves along as bid, weaving through under R'hin's direction, and when they reach their position at the front she turns a dubious glance at him. "Late for the performance?" Daring, R'hin ignores the looks and guides them right to the front, as if they had a right to be there. "Yes," and at her dubious look, he gives her a mocked frown in turn. "Don't make that face at me, Vienne. You said you had a lovely voice, and I am selfish, so--" he spreads his hands, a completely unapologetic grin on his face. What is he talking about? Maybe it has something to do with the next song that comes up. It's a familiar tune for her, a pleasant duet well suited to her range -- and the Master's gesturing towards Vienne very obviously as if to invite her to join him. There's no 'what is he talking about'. As soon as he mentions her voice, Vienne knows the score here. She rolls her eyes and the cut of her glance scolds him. If she's any more reluctant than that, she hides it well, except perhaps for the tightness of her smile. Yes, the song is starting and yes, she knows the words, but before she'll answer the beckoning of her old master, the bluerider shrugs her sweater off, pressing it into R'hin's keeping, along with the promise, "You're going to have to tell me why." After. She steps out onto the stage, her smile for the audience shy and apologetic as she stands beside the master and lets her voice twine in to the duet. It is a lovely voice, if nothing so remarkable that the Hall is still sobbing to have lost her, and the master's age does do her some favors, allowing her to sound young and fresh by comparison. There's certainly no commitment on R'hin's part to do so, but he does take her sweater into his care, pale eyes gleaming with anticipation as he watches her walk out on stage. Vienne's master seems happy to have her company, and at the end of the song, he tells the gathered audience that Vienne is a good sport, and that it's good to borrow her back -- if only briefly. R'hin's not the only one clapping enthusiastically as the song ends and a few more harpers move to take the stage in their place. Vienne willingly plays the part of gracious and demure throughout the master's kind words, the round of applause, and if there are many who received the performance with enthusiasm, it's that bronzerider her glance lands on, looking very much like she might like make a face of him of some sort. But it's not until she's free to return to her escort that the little tremble of nerves becomes apparent, that she lets the anxiety twist across her features until she can't help but laugh and lift a hand to hide her expression, her flustered smile. "Augh," she sighs out, letting her shoulders slump dramatically. She peers through her fingers at R'hin. "Happy?" That pale gaze of R'hin's tracks her throughout, welcoming her back with a lean and a murmur close to her ear, "Very," a beat, "I didn't expect you to be nervous," he admits, with amusement. He keeps his voice low in deference to the next performance, though he appears not to be paying any attention to it at all. "Your master seemed a bit bemused, if receptive to the idea. I'm glad he indulged me." "No?" That admission seems like a surprise to her, not that it kills the awkward laugh that lingers as she tries to find her composure again. "I guess you didn't think it through." There's a light in her eye, her own amusement, and then she smooths some of the anxiety out of her cheeks with the press of her fingers. "Did you want to stay and listen?" she wonders, her back still to the current performance, her voice as quiet as his not to interrupt. "Or is your work here done?" She glances over her shoulder to take her first note of who has replaced her on the stage. "Oh, I thought it through. I just expected most a harper to be... more sanguine about the whole thing," R'hin admits in a faintly wry murmur. His gaze flickers towards the next performer, as if only belatedly noticing -- then back to her with a visibly guilty sort of look. "The only performances I normally stick around for are Suireh's. And that's normally why I stay at the back." With a glance over their shoulder, he slips a hand around Vienne's waist again, murmuring to those behind them, "Excuse me. The lady needs some air after her performance." More idle murmurings get them through the thick of the crowd towards the back of the hall. "It's been a long time," Vienne offers as her only explanation, though perhaps he'll note that, on the way out, the bluerider finally does meet a few glances, flashing that apologetic smile again as if she's done them some disservice by performing. And, too, at the mention of his daughter, her eye is cast a little wider, half expecting the apprentice to materialize from the crowd. Though the bluerider doesn't have any objection to putting some distance between herself and the stage, a small satisfied grin continues to curve her mouth. So maybe performing wasn't all bad. As they make their way toward the back of the hall, she leans a little closer to remind him, "You didn't have to go through this trouble if you wanted a song." "Mm," it's a vague sound in the back of R'hin's throat, and it's accompanied by a quick, brief look at her explaination. Once they're free of the crowd his hand drops away, though still remains close as he guides them towards some drinks laid out at the back. "Perhaps not," the Monacoan allows with a smile, "-but it was so much more fun this way -- don't you think?" Oh, he's enjoying himself, no doubt. The further from the stage, the more Vienne's smile starts to fade and as they come to the drinks, it's gone entirely. She has to put it back in place to respond to his idea of fun. "Yeah." It looks like she might like to follow it with something, only instead she catches her lip in her teeth and runs a hand up her arm. It's hardly cold in the hall, full of bodies and hot air. "My sweater," she reminds him, most interested in that than the beverage spread. Distracted momentarily by the selection of wines -- the downside of being a connoisseur -- R'hin belatedly glances at Vienne. It's with a furrow of brow that he takes in her expression, though he's quick enough to return her sweater, meaning to drape it around her shoulders, unless she reaches for it directly. "What's wrong Vienne?" he asks, head tipped. Vienne does reach, but takes the drape when she realizes his intention. "I don't know if I should bother," she says with a little shake of her head, that sorry smile turned on him this time, regret tinging it instead of shyness. "It was very nice of you to invite me here and... set this up. I never thought I'd perform in this hall again." Once the sweater is in place, she lifts a hand to tug it close. "Do you have anything else planned?" She might as well ask, though she doesn't seem to have any expectation of an answer. A flicker of brow marks the surprise that spreads across R'hin's features. "I wouldn't ask if I weren't interested," he says, half self-directed amusement, half chiding. A flicker of glance to the drinks, then back to the bluerider, as he says blandly, "I could get you drunk and take you back to my weyr, if that's what you're implying." The amusement in his expression suggests he believes otherwise, however, remaining attentive. "I didn't say you weren't interested," Vienne replies with the quirk of a wan smile. And as for his guess at her implications, she just shakes her head, knowing better and knowing he knows better too. "I don't think that I want to talk about it here. It's a party." She gestures her free hand toward the table, the wine he's been surveying. It's an invitation for him to go ahead and drink, not an indication of her own interest, and after it's done she folds her arms about her middle, demeanor patient. R'hin glances briefly at the table when she gestures, then dismisses it with a shift of shoulders in the faintest shrug. "Then let's leave the party," the bronzerider says, carelessly, reaching to snake a hand around Vienne's waist with the intention of guiding them to the door. "Why don't you show me the hall? I'm sure you have some little nook that you used to hide in and watch people from." Her mouth pinches small, lips hidden, but after a beat, Vienne nods and she turns toward the door at his bidding, a glance over her shoulder for the stage, the gathering, all the pretty dresses and people murmuring about one another. It's a wide hallway she leads him down, immediately quiet in comparison to the great hall, though hardly empty. She pauses at a door and opens it on a classroom, dark and silent. "I still sit in sometimes. I like to listen to the discussion." She doesn't go in, just looking at the black nothing. If she's giving a tour, this is probably a pretty poor stop. "We could uncover the glows if..." If he wants to see? "Would you have preferred a dance? I would've thought being back here would've made you -- happier," R'hin murmurs in a quiet undertone, before pausing at the entrance to the classroom, glancing from the dark opening to Vienne. It's the latter he studies, in turn. "It's your tour," he says, voice amused; apparently he's leaving the decision up to her. Her mouth hitches. Maybe she would have liked a dance. "I..." It's a long pause and then Vienne looks back at him, lifting a hand to his arm. With an inhale, she steps into the classroom, slipping away from him to reach blindly for the glow basket she knows is set into the wall. It hardly illuminates the whole room, but it's enough that he won't bash his shins on the benches. "The chairs, tonight, like I'm a toy on a string. I don't know if I can do it." "You're not making much sense," R'hin says, with patient amusement, but something else, too, a furrow of brow as he follows her into the classroom. He settles into a casual lean against the desk, the dim glow casting a shadow across his expression, though his gaze is intent on her. "Perhaps you're overthinking it, Vienne. But if you don't want Leiventh to talk to Oswinth anymore, then--" he spreads his hands, as if ready to accept such a decision from her. "I do that," Vienne says freely. "I overthink things. But I can't unthink them." She gives him a little shrug, accepting that reality, and sinks to sit, her hands between the press of her knees. "You asked me what was wrong." Just in case he doesn't remember. Her eyes watch the spread of his hands, stuck there instead of meeting his gaze. "After the flight... you were different. Now I feel like you're just falling into some comfortable pattern. I don't know what I want." It troubles her enough to purse her small mouth. "I don't know what you want." "After the flight," R'hin echoes her, his voice momentarily kind of gruff, "You know what that's like, when you don't--" he trails off, shakes it off with a shrug of shoulders. He pushes up from his lean against the table and stops in front of her, reaching for one of her hands. "If nobody knows what they want, then I say, just live in the moment. Come on -- I'm sure there's dancing somewhere on Pern. How about we go find some?" There's a lightness in his gaze as he watches her expectantly. She slips her fingers from between her knees and into his hand, her grip light as she slowly moves to stand. Her free hand slides up his arm. "Dance with me here," she tells him quietly. With the door open and the hall not far, there's still a bit of music in the air -- maybe it's enough. She cracks a small, wry smile, meeting his gaze. "Live in the moment." "Here, then," R'hin concedes easily enough, his hand slipping to rest comfortably at her waist. He's an adept dancer, and only needs to pause a moment for his ear to catch the beat of the distant music, before he leads her in an easy, slow dance. "But later; I'm taking you somewhere for real dancing." Vienne settles into his arms, a little hesitant at first even though this was her idea, but closer as she relaxes. For his promise, she grins, wide and a bit cheeky. It doesn't garner any other enthusiasm, but her the smile might be enough. "Tell me why you set that up tonight." The stage, her song. R'hin's answer is straightforward and quick enough that it's probably the truth: "You said your voice was your instrument. I was curious to hear what you chose to give up." As she relaxes, he settles into a slightly more complex routine, though he seems apt to keep an eye on her. "I sang for you that night," Vienne points out. "Maybe... you don't remember." It makes her shake her head, dropping her gaze from his. "Maybe you don't really remember any of it. But I liked you that way. I liked your eyes on me. I liked the cracks. Talking to you." She has to wet her lips before she adds. "I didn't choose it." A momentary pause from R'hin. "I wanted to see what you were like... as a harper." Which apparently requires Harper Hall, and an audience. Still, he doesn't confirm her speculation, yet there's something a little harder in his gaze, in the tense line of his body wherever it touches hers. Abruptly: "Let's go to Igen. They're always celebrating something, I'm sure there'll be dancing." His fingers are still in hers, and he uses that to pull her along with him towards the door. And since Vienne isn't going to Igen, she evades the invitation and they part ways instead.
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