Logs:Just To Talk
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| RL Date: 13 August, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia checks up on her friend, and has a request for the Weyrleader. |
| Where: K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 7, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Brieli/Mentions, Braeden/Mentions, Yuliye/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Val/Mentions, F'rint/Mentions |
| K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Rank certainly has its privileges, and among them are amply appointed apartments. The short flight of stairs from the Weyrleader's Complex opens up into the larger of two chambers, formally decorated and clearly designed to cater as much to important guests as the occupant's personal living. Old, but obviously expensive, llama wool rugs dyed blue-and-black cover the stone floor, leading towards the second chamber, the stairs, and the rush-filled dragon couch and ledge beyond it. A formal seating arrangement - a sofa and chairs, all blue-and-black - sits around a large, tiled fireplace, whilst along the other wall, a finely made, if now somewhat antique, desk sits between a bookshelf and a tall cupboard to which tack-hooks have been attached, riding gear arranged neatly inside. Two tapestries hung from the high walls depict overdone splendour for High Reaches Weyr, one a long view of the snow-covered bowl, and the other a hazy impressionist piece of dragons flaming over a springtime countryside. The inner weyr, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area, is smaller and cosier and distinctly less ostentatious. An oversized wooden sleigh bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows and comforter, their covers dyed in varying shades of navy blue, light blue and bronze. There's a nightstand on either side, both with reading lamps, and against one of the other walls, a tall, heavy wardrobe made from a dark wood that matches the bed. The bathing area is part of the same cavern, a folding screen shielding the toilet and slightly raised, double-sized bathtub built into the stone, and a small shelf holding toiletries, shaving equipment, and clean towels. Warm summer nights have Azaylia dressing in familiar clothing, light and casual. Hraedhyth invites herself onto Cadejoth's ledge, freshly oiled and thankfully not dripping. The goldrider takes a more polite approach, walking up the steps with great care. "K'del?" Voice is quiet, head peeking into his weyr a moment or two later. "Knock knock." Unable to really do so given the tall glasses of bright juice in both hands. Meanwhile her gold dragon makes herself at home whether the bronze is there or not. Cadejoth is, at present, over on the Weyrwoman's ledge, curled up alongside a dozing Ysavaeth (being so close to clutching is exhausting, it seems). The distance is not so far that he can't watch Hraedhyth's approach, and even send her a welcoming rattle and clatter - hello! Inside the weyr, K'del is alone for once, and curled up on the old, battered couch, pen in hand. There's a book in his other hand, and he's staring at the front page of it uncertainly, distracted enough that it takes him a good moment or two to really register Azaylia's arrival. "Azaylia!" he says, then, sounding pleased. "Come on in. Hi." Hraedhyth thumps a pleasant greeting back at Cadejoth, noticeably muted for the sake of the gravid and therefore understandably weary Ysavaeth. HELLO. Azaylia's face is curious for only a moment, peering at the book and pen from a distance- just in case he's too busy. She brightens at his greeting and moves in with the comfort of a repeat guest. "I thought about bringing tea, but it's a little too warm for that." One never wants to visit empty handed, walking over to offer the Weyrleader one of the tropical looking beverages. She sips at the other through a smile. "Oh, wonderful," says K'del, sounding pleased. The book and pen are both set down on the table beside him so that he can accept Azaylia's offering, and use the other hand to wave her towards the other seats set around the (currently not in use) hearth. "Thank you. Reckon your timing is about perfect: the story book I commissioned for Kasey's turnday arrived, and I just can't think of what to write in the front. Pretty sure I'd start tearing my hair out sometime soon. How're you doing, anyway? Enjoy the wedding?" Cadejoth's physical greeting may be as muted as Hraedhyth's, but his mental one is significantly less so, even if his thoughts are distracted by the soon-to-arrive eggs. Eggs, Hraedhyth! Eggs! "Brieli had me try one. They're good." And alcoholic, as all the drinks her friend introduces her to tend to be. Sweet, refreshing, with a generous amount of tequila. She may have hinted that one was for the Weyrleader. "You're welcome." She answers, taking a seat only after he's invited to so, settling into a black chair and tucking her legs up underneath herself. "Oh? Oh!" Quiet gasp, "That's such a wonderful thought... Maybe something about how he'll soon have his own adventures?" There's a wave for her on-the-spot suggestion, shooing it out of the air. "I'm fine. The wedding was absolutely wonderful." Another sip, "Surprised about the new Lady of the Hold. And, I need to talk to Brieli about forcing poor men into being my dates." A little scrunch to her face, all in good humor. Hraedhyth isn't so distracted by the eggs, giving the thought a snorthuff. They aren't her eggs, what's the big deal? She's better than some boring, still ovals anyway. Hmph. K'del takes an experimental sip of the drink, and seems pleased by it - and, too, by Azaylia's suggestion. "That's perfect!" he enthuses. "Sweet and sentimental, but only a little bit. Not so much so that a six turn old will be turned off by it." Actually writing the message will, however, have to wait: now, he's shifting his position so that he can more easily glance at the weyrling, and grin. "Reckon you're not the only one surprised by that particular announcement. Still, it works out well. Saves people some face, keeps people happy. Braeden could do a lot worse than Yuliye, that's for sure. Who was Brieli setting you up with?" Cadejoth doesn't really seem to disagree with Hraedhyth's sentiments, and shares instead an image of himself in flight: flying is better than eggs. Eggs are good, something to be proud of, but... they're not flying Azaylia is pleasantly surprised, sounding as much with a gentle laugh. "Glad I could help." The smile lasts even through her gentle prompting of what works out well, "Does it?" Not really a challenge, she falls quiet and allows him to explain. "Braeden is happy, then?" If she's heard the rumors about K'del and Yuliye, well, she certainly won't bring those up now. "N'rov's friend. Ah, E'ten of bronze Adiulth." She answers promptly, smile gentle but weighed with uncertainty. It could be outright discomfort, "He... I think I annoyed him." Somehow, someway. Hraedhyth is appeased by her sire's non-disagreement, settling possessively atop his ledge and simply watching their weyr. She will be proud of eggs, as long as they don't manage to take her place. But how could they? They're boring lumps. "Well," says K'del, after a moment. "It's not a love match, I'll admit, but Lords rarely have that opportunity. Yuliye's a lovely woman. I'm sure they can be happy." It's hard to tell, but it would almost seem as though K'del believes this... and has absolutely no idea of the big barrier to this marriage being a success. He takes another careful sip of his drink before setting it down, and considering Azaylia thoughtfully. "Another Fortian. That's-- a pity. That you two didn't hit it off." His disapproval seems to be because of E'ten's snub rather than the whole Fortian thing, but it would be difficult to be sure. "Plenty of other men out there, anyway." Cadejoth's tail-tip twitches, a sure sign that he's restless despite the possessive, careful way he watches over his sleeping mate. Now, finally, he speaks: « One day, they'll be dragons and not lumps, and then they will be interesting. » Defensive yet soft, "She doesn't seem very lovely." It catches her off guard, and instead Azaylia turns her head and uses several sips to stay quiet. "Pretty." She guesses. "They'll make a nice baby." There, that's a compliment even if it's as passionate as talking about breeding runners. Actually, that would have the weyrling actually sounding excited. "It's okay. I just feel bad for him, I'm pretty sure he was forced to even be there." A soft, playful hum for K'del's words, a bit telling about the availability of weyr men. Hraedhyth shifts from between watching the bowl, and keeping an added, protective eye on the sleeping Matriarch. « Okay. » She'll just see about that. New dragons can't be as interesting as she is- she's the best. K'del is surprised, even confused, by Azaylia's opinion of Yuliye, and his frown is a careful one as a result. If he's drawn a conclusion, however, he's disinclined to share it - a moment later, he's shifting on to that other subject without making any comment except, "I'm sure they will. And hopefully, it'll stop all those rumours about Braeden and myself. It's been terribly unfair to him. Anyway, if I were you? I wouldn't feel too bad for E'ten. He didn't need to be rude." Her hum, at least, makes him amused, his smile just barely held back from smugness. For Hraedhyth, now, Cadejoth has a smug rattle of bones. She'll always be his favourite. Probably. "I get told a lot, that things aren't always fair." Azaylia manages to keep any real emotion from her quiet words beyond a hint of amusement. Mixed messages aside, she's in agreement about could've-been dance partners, nodding gently. "I wouldn't say he was rude," She defends, predictably so. "But it's nothing to really dwell on." So she won't. Adjusting in her seat, she smoothes the skirt of her dress and asks a touch too light, "How's Iolene? Ysavaeth?" The rest is murmured behind the edge of her glass, "Has she been moved to Aurora yet?" Smugness is shared throughout, Hraedhyth echoing his rattle with a rapid drumroll. Good. As long as that doesn't change, then she guesses another clutch is alright. And, okay, pretty interesting. K'del sucks in a low breath, and, having exhaled it, takes another sip from his drink. "No," he agrees. "I guess not. Life's not fair, and the more rank you have, the less fair it is. No such thing as privacy, when you're in his position. Or any of ours, really." He'll accept her defense of E'ten without pause, and lean back against the couch's arm rest with a low exhale. "Io's-- busy. Well, I think. Sure she'll be glad once Ysa's got that clutch safely on the sands. Imagine she'll be glad once the two of you graduate and can give her a hand, but she seems to have things well in hand." There's something distinctly neutral and careful about his words; it would be hard to miss that he's worried about something in relation to the goldrider. "Least she's got Lujayn." Cadejoth seems, quietly, pleased. Good. Good. Azaylia is about as politely silent as one can get while listening to the Weyrleader's words. She'll look concerned where appropriate, unable to help it when it comes to her open, expressive face. "Things are running smoothly." The weyrling compliments, optimism not out in full force just yet. It's hard to forget the murmurings of councils, or how slow some of the weyr's processes have gotten. "I can't think I'd do a better job." Self deprecating and honest. "I'm glad to hear that she's well, and that the eggs'll be soon." Isn't everyone? "What I meant to ask, was..." One last gulp for courage that ends up draining her glass. "If Iolene hasn't yet been moved, or... No, that's not right." A frustrated huff with herself before she tries again, "I mean, it wasn't so bad? It didn't hurt the weyr, to have a queen in a fighting wing instead of Aurora?" After an active day of drills and lessons, Hraedhyth is fine with lounging on the ledge, content. K'del watches Azaylia over the rim of his glass as she responds, and his emotions, too, are easy to read: hesitant approval to begin with, followed by a furrowed brow that is pretty obviously the sign of confusion, later. And then, just like that, comprehension dawns. "She's been moved," he confirms. "Aurora's her wing, now; she's the Wingleader. But your real question is... you want to know if you can fly in a fighting wing. Is that it? Io was only... I mean, she wasn't acting as a Weyrwoman, and that's why, but..." He's clearly giving it all some thought, working through the considerations even though the weyrling has yet to actually confirm whether he's on the right track or not. The glass is fiddled with, slowly spinning it without fear of spilling now that it's empty. Azaylia's gaze remains on it, possibly wishing for more of that juice or simply avoiding his eyes as he speaks. "Yes." Comes the guilty squeak. Her initial avoidance of asking isn't an attempt to be underhanded, of course, but from fear. "I just, I think Hraedhyth would do better in one of the other wings. And since there's no Thread..." She straightens up, stilling the glass in her lap. "Val said that if I got the support, it might look like a privilege instead of what happened to Io. And, w-well, you're the Weyrleader." In charge of the wings, and such. "You think she'll get bored if she doesn't have much by way of drills and duties to do," concludes K'del after listening to what Azaylia has to say. The idea has drawn his mouth in, though rather more thoughtfully than as if he's sucked on a lemon; the fingers of his hand, the one not holding on to his glass, twist idly upon his knee. "It'd be a matter of balancing duties," he says, then. "Unlike Iolene, you are going to be a Junior Weyrwoman, with all the duties and responsibilities that entails. But there'll be four of you, and if... guess I'd have to talk it over with Io, too, since as a goldrider you really come under her care. Still, even if it's not official? You'd be more than welcome to come drill with Avalanche." Azaylia nods a bit too excitedly, remembering on the last bounce or so to temper her reaction. "I mean- yes. She really enjoys the drills we do as weyrlings," Because what sense does it make to exclude one or two dragons now? "I think she might miss them after we graduate." Hope is an energizing thing, squirming and adjusting herself to sit taller in her seat, "I know. I understand and I would never want them to get in the way of my duties as a weyrwoman." Still quiet, she's visibly excited at not being dismissed right away. "I've been reading on the different wings, actually..." His invitation has her smile a touch tighter, embarrassed by what she must see as taking a mile from an offered inch. "U-uhm. I was, kind of hoping of... maybe... seeing if Wingleader F'rint might allow us to drill with Glacier." After going through the proper channels as she is, now. K'del's silence lasts one moment, and then a second - and then? Then he laughs. "Glacier. Of course." The shake of his head should in no way be seen as dismissal of the idea, however, for all that there's a cautionary note to his reply. "Not sure how F'rint would feel about that. Glacier has... different ways. Either they accept you or they don't. They're not that intense in their drilling, either, though I guess that might work out. Even with the rest of your duties, you could manage once a seven or so." He finishes the last of the juice in his glass, setting it down before he adds: "If Iolene's amenable, you could certainly ask. Can't promise what his reaction'll be, but it's not an impossibility. Just remember: F'rint's not that far off seventy. He's set in his ways." The Weyrleader's laughter brings on her own, admittedly nervous, giggles. "I'll admit, they look like a rough bunch. But Szadath's," As Hraedhyth remembers the rider, supplying an answer to her weyrling's forgetful nature. "Was nice, and she's in Glacier." So they can't possibly be as brutish as the lower cavern murmurs would have one believe. Right? "And yes, they only seem to take your attendance every couple of sevens." Which is certainly ideal for a duty-juggling future junior. Her face breaks out into a wide, optimistic grin, "Of course. Iolene is Weyrwoman, it only makes sense." As for F'rint, her smile shrinks just enough to show that she's taking K'del's warning to heart. "I only wanted to ask. If I didn't, it wouldn't be fair to Hraedhyth. She should be happy, too." There's a peculiarly awkward twist to K'del's expression at mention of Taikrin, rather as though he'd like to say something about that particular brownrider... but refrains. Mostly. "Careful with Taikrin. She's got a rough background, and a history of chasing goldriders." As if K'del doesn't - but shh, that's completely beside the point. Azaylia's optimism does, at least, make the bronzerider smile. "No, that seems entirely fair. It's always worth asking-- what's the worst that can happen? He says no? Can only imagine what Cadejoth would be like if he had no real drills to busy himself with, and it seems like Hraedhyth's not so very different. Hopefully, you can convince them." Azaylia is caught up in a forward momentum of good feelings, the tilt to her head over an intentionally coy shoulder is playfully so. "She was a perfect gentlem...lady." She falls apart mid-correction, giggling softly. Either Taikrin was off her game, or the weyrling completely missed the brownrider's intentions. ...Likely the latter. There's an affectionate glance towards the ledge, "She really is Cadejoth's blood. And, if Wingleader F'rint does say no... Or Iolene," She reminds herself, "It won't be the end of the world. I'll just find another way to exercise her." Dark eyes find K'del's face once more, "Thank you." It's quick and shy, reaching out though she has no hope of touching him, flicking her hand at the wrist. "I've been selfish this whole time. Let's talk about you." K'del's dubiousness over Taikrin is both obvious and something he doesn't seem to intend to dwell on: aside from a raise of his eyebrows, he doesn't give it too much attention. "Good attitude," he says, approvingly. "She really is. He approves, I think, even if Ysavaeth finds her... confusing. I-- nono, Azaylia, what's there to say about me?" His smile is genuinely warm, even as his head shakes rapidly. "There's nothing selfish about it, truly." Azaylia tries to muffle her own laughter, unecessary given how soft it is. "That's alright. I think Hraedhyth, as much as she prides herself in being Ysavaeth's daughter, finds her just as confusing." What's not to like about roughhousing and snuggling? The weyrling scoots to the edge of her chair to finally place her glass down, making herself comfortable soon after. "I don't want to make it seem like I'm here just to ask you for stuff. I care about you." It's an easy admission between friends. "If you're not going to fill me in with what's going on up there," Eyes slide up to his brow, then back down. "Then what about Kasey's turnday? Anything special planned beyond a wonderful little book?" Totally not jealous. "Sometimes it surprises me that Ysa and Cadejoth get along as well as they do. They're so different," admits K'del, with a wry smile, as he, too, sets down his (now empty) glass. "Know you do, Azaylia. Didn't think for a moment you only visit to ask for things - I appreciate it, though." He looks, for a moment, quietly troubled at her reference to his inner thoughts, but shifts away from that with haste, grinning. "His mother and I will probably take him out for the day. Both him and Nik. Not sure where, yet... guess that's partially up to what he wants. Six is old enough to decide, don't you think? I'm still trying to decide what to give Nik for his turnday in a few months. Doesn't seem fair for him to get exactly the same thing, does it?" "It's very sweet." Azaylia nearly sighs, "And I'm sure you and Iolene have something to do with it." Which is an odd thing to contemplate, just how much dragons are influenced by their riders emotions and vice versa. She doesn't comment any more on what he might be thinking, instead propping a chin in her palm and smiling towards the Weyrleader. "Maybe to the beach? Like, a real beach." Warm like Ista or Monaco. "Is six turns old enough for a firelizard?" Possibly a tease, getting the children of the Weyrleader started early. "Though, that might make Kasey jealous." Hm. Children are hard. "I'm sure you'll come up with something." K'del's expression turns thoughtful at the idea that he and Iolene have something to do with Ysavaeth and Cadejoth; his smile twists. "Maybe so," he agrees. "Pretty sure Io used Ysa to get to me in the first place. I was... a little oblivious." He seems somehow wistful, neither smugly content with his lot or outright unhappy. Certainly, he moves on quickly, returning Azaylia's smile. "That sounds like a good idea," he agrees. "The beach. Not the firelizard. That would make everyone unhappy, I think. Even if both boys got an egg... imagine if one was considered better than the other. And their mothers would probably kill me. Faranth, no. Sadly. Guess I've got a few months to work it out." The smile she has for K'del's wistful words is polite and something more, at least genuinely happy for her friend. "I think... Hraedhyth works in the opposite way." Her lower jaw is stuck against her palm, the rest of her head bouncing to compensate with how still her chin is. Imagine if the gold were ever to actually help lure a man, rather than intimidate those even partially interested. "You've got some time," She agrees, looking momentarily restless just as Hraedhyth glides down without much warning. Rising slowly, "She wants to go for an evening run." Tired eyes droop even more at this fact, but she's smiling. "You know if you ever need to actually talk about you..." That's as far as the weyrling will push it, likely uncomfortable with that much. "Give her time," is K'del's opinion on that. "One day she'll rise and then... maybe things will change." Or maybe not. He, too, rises as Azaylia does, almost as though it's instinctual. "Get her all worn out," he agrees, cheerfully enough. "Thank you for stopping in, Azaylia. It was-- good. To talk." There's a pause, and one hand lifts to run through his hair, his expression awkward, but not bothered. "Thank you." It's just quiet. "And... will you keep an eye on Iolene for me, Azaylia? Just... in case you think she needs something, or something is too much, or... anything. You'll tell me? I worry about her." Azaylia is joking when she adds on, "Maybe she'll maul the brute that catches her." Yes, because that would make the unlucky male dragon a brute, not a victim. With K'del's rising she'll step into a hug that he should see coming, firm but not rib crushing... this time. "It was very nice. I like coming by just to talk, see how you're doing." There may be a prod for his sides, is he eating enough? Pulling back she tilts her head up to peek at his face as there's distance between them once again. Just as quiet as his words, "Welcome." Turning around, she takes her empty glass and his, if he's done with it. "Mm? Oh. If you'd like me to, sure." A nod and a soft smile, "It's sweet that you care." Hraedhyth's unmistakable roar has her giving a wince, "Should get to that." She excuses herself with a laugh, exit prompt but in no way an escape. His neighbors will thank her. K'del seems pleased, returning the hug with no less enthusiasm-- his smile, during her inspection, is amused. He'll watch her go, too, approval visible in his expression, before finally he gets back to that book, and the inscription within it. |
Comments
Iolene (Satiet) left a comment on Wed, 15 Aug 2012 18:30:49 GMT.
I love Azaylia's appraisal of Yuliye and then the round about way she goes about trying to see if she can be in a fighting wing. Hehe.
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