Logs:Happiness
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| RL Date: 24 August, 2009 |
| Who: Madilla, W'chek |
| Type: Log |
| What: Madilla and W'chek spend some time together by the lake. She's as oblivious and content as ever. He's... chicken. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 7, Turn 20 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Delifa/Mentions, Leova/Mentions |
| Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself. A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs. The sun is high in the sky and there is not a cloud in sight. There's a breeze that tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. It's one of those perfect summer afternoons: sunny, warm-but-not-hot, barely a cloud in the sky. It must be a free afternoon, for Madilla, because she's swapped her usual working clothes for some distinctly better suited to off duty (a light white cotton blouse, a pretty blue skirt), and has perched herself on the land bridge, skirt pulled up just far enough to be out of the way of the water, her bare feet dangling into the cool water. There are a number of children of varying ages at play out in the lake, and for the moment, they have her full and undivided attention. Maybe someone spotted her on her way out here and relayed the informaton, or maybe W'chek is just lucky enough to stumble onto her. Just here to attend while Zhikath slips into the water, but the bronze has crossed thirty feet long and twenty feet tall at the shoulder, now--his rider is not going to be out there personally doing any scrubbing except when vitally necessary. That leaves W'chek to walk down the beach once his dragon is otherwise occupied, and then he starts across that strip of land beside the pond to draw up beside that rarest creature, a friendly face. "Well. Hey, there." And it is a friendly face, the kind that absolutely blossoms as that intent gaze disentangles itself from that previous subject of interest, until it might as well be made of smiles. "W'chek!" Madilla greets him, surprise audible for only the first syllable; she must have been too busy to even notice Zhikath's arrival. "Will you join me? If--" Her head tilts, shifting around so that, this time, she does spy the bronze. "If you intend to wait around, while he bathes, of course. Unless you've somewhere else to be?" "I might as well," W'chek replies, all fond indulgence, looking out after his dragon--indulging one of them, anyway. Although, since Zhikath seems to not have the least concern over his presence or lack thereof, well. He takes a minute to pull his boots off and roll the legs of his pants up before sitting down to join her. "Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be. How's your day been? Mine was all... well, the usual." Madilla looks instantly pleased, at this whole concept of not being able to think of anywhere else he'd rather be, and swishes her feet in the water contentedly - though she's careful to keep her skirts covering as much of her legs as possible without getting them too wet. "I've been given the afternoon off," she reports. "Journeywoman Delifa insisted; she said I really ought to be making the most of the nice weather, and I suppose she's right. Otherwise..." Beat. "The usual, too. One of the little ones split open his head on the rocks this morning, so I've been... keeping an eye out." Bracing his hands against the ground, W'chek leans back, looks upwards to clear sky, then back over to Madilla with a smile. "Keeping an eye out," he agrees. "Well. It is nice, and it's good to have some time off. I like that we start early, so we get the best part of the day free." Because he so often spends it outside in the lovely summertime, right? Not holed up in his weyr being sulky and avoiding oversized blueriders? "Lot of them out on these kinds of days. Maybe I'm just starting to notice it more, you think?" "They were all playing on Cadejoth, earlier," mentions Madilla, as an aside, vaguely. "He seemed to be having a wonderful time." Beat. "I like starting, too, though with our eight hour shifts... you have to start pretty early to have much of an afternoon left, even in summer. But I've been on the later shift lately, anyway, because of Delifa." Her attention shifts from the lake back towards W'chek as she adds, "Perhaps you are. It's a nice thought: that in a few turns," quite a few, but really, who's counting? "our child might be among them." A /very/ nice though, if her expression is anything to go by. A thoughtful glance out to Zhikath, who seems to have strayed deep enough to avoid being mobbed. "I doubt he'd think much of being a child's toy," W'chek admits, then laughs. "I suppose maybe he'll have to get used to it. Someday." He sits up straight again, rests his hands on his knees, splashes up a little bit of water with one toe. "Children, I certainly hope. Among them." There's a moment's pause. "They're... going to grow up here. Among all of this. Knowing this, not what... we knew, when we were children." Madilla's gaze follows W'chek's towards Zhikath, and she looks, for a moment, amused at the very thought. But it's not until that last statement sits between them that she responds verbally; her expression, now, has turned more serious, and it's matched in her voice. "I was speaking of this to Leova, a little while ago. That I would like a proper wedding, with a red dress, and all the rest, but that... my children might not. And..." She hesitates before continuing, lowering her gaze towards her toes beneath the water. "I think it will be all right. So long as we raise them to be good people, even if they make... different choices." Beat. "Do you think?" "Raises the question of what 'being good people' means, in that case," muses W'chek the suddenly philosophical. Or possibly the pod-person who's replaced him. To even be considering such a thing! He looks out after the kids again. Just kids. Not monstrous creatures of any variety. Kids. "Just a turn, and it's starting to feel like home's not... home so much, anymore. Angry letter from my stepmother, the other day. All my fault, one of my younger half-sisters has announced she doesn't want to get married, ever, she wants to be a dragonrider. I'm sure she'll get over it, but that wasn't what I thought first." A pause. "What I thought first was how before the hatching, Leova offered. Said it runs in families sometimes. Asked if I had sibs the right age. Not like... it would be a bad thing." Maybe there's some relief in Madilla's expression that what she's said is not horribly appropriate, but mostly, she continues to look thoughtful, teeth coming to rest on her lower lip at mention of that angry letter, and some concern there, but otherwise: just thoughtful. "What would you think, if she /was/ search-worthy? Would you dissuade her, or want to?" She doesn't wait for an answer, not immediately, admitting, then, "I don't think my uncle really approves of my visits, anymore. And I... I feel different, too, even though I didn't think I'd changed that much." "I don't know what I'd think." W'chek scratches at the side of his neck, twists his face up in kind of an exaggerated thoughtful face. "I don't know. That sister... I could see it, I guess. She's... fourteen now?" Okay, no, he probably doesn't remember her turnday exactly. "Maybe someday. I don't know. It's confusing, now. Trying to sort it all out. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if she came up here. Maybe she'd be happier, here. Maybe our kids will be happier... well, than we were." Slowly, carefully, Madilla nods her head, shifting her gaze back towards W'chek as he speaks. "I hope they will be. Growing up here. Even if we instill... what we want in them. They'll understand better." She gives him a little half smile, perhaps intended to be encouraging. "I'm sure it will get easier for us, too." She probably means 'for you', but she'd never say it. "I hope our being here doesn't... take away from our children a chance at extended family. Because of where and how they're raised." Pressing palm against the brown, W'chek leans toward her, looking out across the water again. Zhikath is very carefully making his way back out of the water now. Very carefully, because there are quite a lot of small people running around to avoid. "I don't think it should. My stepmother will get over it. I think." Pause. "I hope it'll get easier for us, too. Finding that balance." "I hope so," she tells him. "I hope mine get used to it... perhaps when there are children involved, it will be different. Otherwise, I suppose they'll have 'aunts' and 'uncles' here." Madilla seems to quite like this idea, smiling more brightly than ever as she considers her companion. "I think it will. I think... I find, anyway, that most things get easier over time." There's a little silence, there. W'chek pulls his feet out of the water, though he makes no other move further away. What he says to break the quiet, then, is an entirely uncertain, "Yeah." Well, their personal quiet, shouting lakeside weyrfolk and playing children aside. "Don't want things to change too much. I mean... we're young, yet. Where are we going to end up by the time we're... that age?" Convenient older gentleman out for a walk down there a ways to point to. "Is it all just going to seem normal, then?" Madilla hesitates, as though debating on what, exactly, to say, during that silence; in the end, she says nothing at all. "No," she agrees, finally, curling her hands together in her lap. "We don't want to change too much. But. To be /comfortable/, happy. I think changes that aid that are important. I..." Her gaze lingers on the older man, and she shakes her head. "I can't imagine not finding some of the things here very strange." "Happy," W'chek repeats like the word is something he's never heard before in his life. "Comfortable," likewise. A long exhalation that doesn't quite have the same character as a sigh. Eyes on Zhikath where he's found a place in the sun to dry off. Very bright, like a beacon. "What if that doesn't mean the same thing to both of us, in the long run?" "/Happy/," repeats Madilla in turn, firmly, though even as she does so, her gaze focused so heavily upon W'chek is quizzical. "/Comfortable." Beat. "Why wouldn't it? Do you believe me likely to change so much? You know that... I will be happy with you, and some children, and a home to care for, and my healing. Or is it you who would change so much?" She's frowning now, uncertain and awkward. The response then is hurried and almost severe: "No. No, I'm not saying that at all." Whatever direction W'chek might have headed there is quite cut off by the look on her face, and he shakes his head. "Not at all. Just... worrying. That's all." Sheepish smile. "I do a lot of that. You know." Madilla's expression remains frozen as it is for several seconds after W'chek answers so hastily, and then, finally, she releases it, and nods. "Of course. I just-- for a moment. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you. I can't imagine anything that should stand in the way of us being happy, truly." One deep breath, and then gradually W'chek smiles again. "Nothing at all," he blithely assures her. "We are going to be happy. Very, very happy. With a family, and a home." There's a firm finality to the last sentence, punctuated with a nod. "I've been working on trying to come up with ways to make the weyr a little more... homey. The paint does help a great deal." Madilla meets the smile with a beam, all traces of her earlier concern washed away by it. "Good," she tells him; by her tone, he might as well have just said that the sun will set in the evening - of course they will. "Perhaps some kind of wall hanging, or a rug." She's thinking about this with great consideration. "You had some screens, didn't you? Just plain ones. Those could be painted, too, something a little warmer." If W'chek does not seem quite so able to move right on into happier topics, well, he is a worrier, isn't he? He does not right along with her like this is exactly the subject he wanted to get onto, though. "Wall hangings, especially towards the front might help in the winter. And rugs, certainly. Not so much of an issue now, but I suppose it's good to start getting ready now. My grandmother used to braid rags into these coiled rugs..." A sudden chuckle. "I admit, I thought they were kind of hideous when I was a kid. But they felt like home." "We had that kind of rug, too," says Madilla, with a wry tilt of her head. "I know what you mean. I'm sure we'll manage to put something together, to make it all feel... like home. Our home, anyway." She may well be entirely unaware of anything going on beneath the surface; he's a worrier, and she's oblivious, go figure. "I'll keep an eye out, at any gathers I go to. For things that might work." "Our home. Would you do that? That would be... good. Anything that might work." W'chek is just agreeing along, mostly. Zhikath is starting to stir over there. "He'd like to go eat, and he... rather likes company, for some reason." Hard for him to properly critique his own technique, after all, without a set of eyes observing from elsewhere. But W'chek is not going to bring up gory details to Madilla. "See you later?" Earnestly; "Of course I will. It's kind of nice, to have something specific to shop for, you know?" Instead of admiring expensive, unnecessary baubles that she'll never buy for herself is probably what Madilla means, but this, too, goes unsaid. Her gaze lifts from W'chek towards Zhikath, and hurriedly, she nods her head. "Of course. I'll see you later, yes. I hope... have a nice afternoon, W'chek." Getting back up again is a rather slow process, what with the having to put boots back on and everything, but then W'chek is brushing off his hands on his trousers. "If you're going to be looking for that sort of thing... let me know before you go. My spare marks aren't exactly plentiful, but I'll make sure you have some pocket money." A big smile. "Just let me know," repeated. "And have a nice afternoon. Keep an eye on those kids, make sure nobody gets hurt." And grinning now, he makes his way back off back to his dragon, not waiting for any possible objection. Madilla keeps her head tilted up, to watch, as W'chek gets himself ready to go. Mention of marks makes her open her mouth, but she doesn't manage to get any words out until the weyrling is well on his way. Head shaking; "It's really not necessary--" But really, it's too quiet to be intended for any ears but her own. Left with it, what can she do, but turn her attention back to those children, and, given a few moments more, be caught utterly in that reverie once more. |
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