Logs:Turnday Surprise
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| RL Date: 7 April, 2013 |
| Who: Ali, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ali has a Turnday surprise for K'del. They talk. |
| Where: K'del's Island, Western Islands |
| When: Day 14, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Takes place after Logs:Wingsecond and before Logs:Wings In Resistance. |
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| It's the day after K'del's Turnday, and a couple of days after the Fortian hatching when Cadejoth senses a sparkling trail of stars nearing and fading. She teases, that Fortian queen, there and gone, unable to contain her excitement but attempting to do so at the same time. A flash of a clear blue sky. « I like it. » Some ground, familiar for a second in a fleeting way. « Though it has no beach on which to sun yourself. » This, it seems, is a failing, and yet, « The air twists and turns, writhes and spins. » And with it, Isyath's thoughts, too, twist and turn like they wend through some unseen agent, buoyed high above a distant island that she might've cajoled the image for, a seven ago. « We could fly forever here. » The invitation is non-verbalized; she imagines him, that jangling of chains stirred by the strong crosswinds. Yes. It's a well-timed invitation, coming enough time after Taiga's drills have completed that Cadejoth and his rider are refreshed, but early enough that they've not made other plans. « The air, » says Cadejoth, seeking out the specifics of Isyath's invitation with probing tendrils, his own delight unrepressed and unrepentant. « The air is perfect. So clear. » That she has gone to their place doesn't bother the bronze; instead, the promise of his intent to comply is there in the rush of wind beneath mental representations of wings, and the slight chill of summer air, so well remembered. It doesn't take long, and then, there they are: the pale, green-bronze dragon appearing above the relatively flat expanse of their chosen island, bugling his arrival as he dives lower towards the ground. It's the bugle, rather than any warning on Isyath's part, that brings Ali hurrying out of the makeshift shelter that was home to some of his supplies and implements. /Was/- they're now stacked and covered with a carefully sewn skin, weighed down by rocks. The Fortian woman's hair is collected in a bun, together with the apron and broom give her a homely air, though he's probably too far to catch any disgruntlement at her surprise being spilled a little /too/ early; she hurries back inside. Isyath, on the other hand, is unrepentant, and /delighted/, diving down to meet the bronze, circling close as they head for a landing. /She's/ impatient for Cadejoth to join her in the air, and she swoops back skywards in readiness. Indeed, K'del catches sight of Ali while he and Cadejoth are still some distance away - too far for her to be able to see the look of abrupt surprise on his face, or the eyes that get narrowed not in distrust, but instead to indicate genuine perplexity. His dragon is as eager as Isyath to get into this business of flying properly, backswinging to a hasty, poorly coordinated landing a few dragonlengths from the shelter. No sooner has K'del slid down to solid ground, than Cadejoth is aloft again, reaching upwards to tangle with the island's exciting winds. "Ali," calls K'del, stepping past the pile of his supplies, and towards the entrance of the shelter. "Shells." Yes, it does look rather /different/ inside. It's the work of at least a day, more probably two- a deft hand has given the inside a spring clean, clearing away those spinnerwebs and gathered dust-and-dirt. The once-dreary insides have had color added too - a brilliant wall hanging lines the wall opposite the entrance, a scene depicting the sun rising over the seven spindles. The simple cot is now made up with proper sheets and blankets; the table has had a pale blue cloth added onto it - complete with vase and freshly cut stems. The whole place just looks more /homely/ than the temporary shelter it was. On the table, too, is some covered-over platters, and it's these that Ali is hastily trying to uncover when K'del walks in. She spins to catch his expression, color flushing her cheeks at his comment, but, "I should've guessed Issy wouldn't be able to stay quiet. I'd hoped to have it all done before you- got here." "If it helps," says K'del, who glances first at Ali, but then, wide-eyed and impressed, all the way around the room, "Cadejoth mentioned that Isyath had been fishing around, and I still had no concept that you'd-- it's amazing. Guess it's pretty obvious I don't--" Have many people around here? Have many women around here? "Thank you. And hi. Hi." Now, finally, he takes a step inside, stepping towards the wall hanging to examine it with obvious pleasure. "It really is amazing." "I- I needed some time away from Fort. And fixing things- I enjoy it very much. And it was your Turnday," Ali adds, with a smile, now, as much at her words as at his expression - which she tracks, stopping in her fussing over the food to turn and watch him examine everything, delight at his interest obvious in her gaze. "I figured, if you were going to be spending time here- working the land, you should have /somewhere/ to stay, to rest out the heat of the day, or to spend the night, if it gets too late. Or if you've sampled too much." Humor, now, in the warmth of the junior's voice as she steps up behind him to view the hanging. "So you'll be reminded of home, even when you're far from it," she murmurs. At first, K'del simply stares at the hanging, looking at it with an expression that is probably not difficult to place: there's so much feeling there, for the home that has been his for so many turns now. Abruptly, he turns, this time seeking to meet Ali's gaze, his gratitude so evident in that glance. "Now that you know where it is," he says, "feel free to come out here, any time. When you need time away from Fort. It helps... me, anyway. Knowing there's somewhere else to go. Planted some cuttings from my father's vines, this Turn. Doubt they'll come to much for a while, but it's nice to have progress. Something... concrete, you know? Something that's mine. How are things at Fort, beside the obvious?" There's silent gratitude for that offer of a home away from home, Ali reaching out touch his arm in response. Of course, that it also serves as a means to guide him, however lightly, back towards the table is a complete coincidence. "I saw them. My brothers tried to grow grape one Turn- our soil's not made for it. They were determined, though, and the stuff was just awful." Her nose wrinkles up at the memory of it, but there's fondness in there, too. "I understand," she murmurs. "Dragonriders don't... own things. Not like... like holders." Another adjustment, and she pauses before her gaze flickers to the dishes. Pure habit, as much as the distraction, allows her to slip the light touch of her fingers free to reach for the skin and pour some of the cool, light colored liquid into glasses. "It was a... a relief for Elaruth and Bijedth's clutch to hatch. We needed that- that normality, after... after the weyrlings showed up." A flicker of glance in the bronzerider's direction. Has he heard? K'del allows himself to be guided back to the table without protest, his low laugh for her brother's efforts accompanying the movement. "Think it makes my father proud, knowing that despite everything, I've still come partway back to the family business. I don't know. It-- no, exactly. We don't own things. None of them know about this place, either, at home. Only close friends. Feels like it'd get taken away, otherwise." Or worse, says his expression, though he won't let himself verbalise it. Instead, he sits in one of the rough chairs, pressing his hands to the top of the table, and nods. He's heard - the old spy networks of a Weyrleader don't die so quickly as all that. "Hatchings help a lot of things, I've found. Normality, yes. How are they... settling? Have you found out much more?" "Land can't be claimed unless it's held," Ali, at least, did her due diligence in her harper lessons. "Else I suspect many a Lord would try and claim all of the Southern continent for themselves." She doesn't bother to hide the faint grimace at that idea- even as she sets the glass of wine in front of K'del. "Yes," she allows, slowly, as she unwraps the rest of the trays. It's mostly food that keeps well in the temperate weather - breads and cheeses, some sweet-tasting dip, some fruit. It's only when she's done all that, and she's satisfied with the placement of everything that she takes the other chair, and her expression grows clouded as she considers his question. "They- they don't give away much. One- the bronzerider- indicated there was some threat to their families. I- whatever else they are, how involved they were, though, they Impressed to Issy's children. I have to believe that dragons wouldn't pick wrongly. That /hers/ wouldn't." The way she phrases that suggests a /need/ to believe, and it's accompanied by a flicker of gaze towards K'del, as if seeking his thought on the matter, too. "I'm holding this as best I can, in my way," says K'del, reflective in his words, though there's something else brimming up that he seems to want to say, and doesn't. "As much as I have time for." He picks up the glass, lifting it in her direction in a solemn toast, his expression conveying what he doesn't find words for: another thanks, and, perhaps, an acknowledgement of what she's been saying. "Dragons always pick the right person," he says, while his glass is still raised so. "We have to believe that. To know that. Is it better, knowing that they did find partners? Better than the alternative. Even if things are..." Ali lifts her glass in turn, the slight curve of lips acknowledging the unspoken sentiment- even if, since it's Ali, she might not be aware of the whole of it. She doesn't drink- since he doesn't- and as K'del speaks, her glass lowers, a frown creeps into the Fortian junior's expression. "It's- better than the alternative," she agrees, though the words are faint. While she's not the most observant of people, she knows the bronzerider at least well enough to see- something. "How /are/ they? I've heard so many- things. I barely know what to believe." As a toast, K'del's efforts kind of suck, but he does, eventually, take a careful sip from his glass, one quickly followed up with a piece of cheese and bread. "I'm sure they'll be fine," he says, of Fort's weyrlings, as though belatedly realising that his words may not have been the most comforting. "They've Isyath's children to look after them; how could they not be?" Her question, though, is enough to draw silence from him again, eyes closing for a brief moment, and then, as his gaze returns to his glass: "Not sure I know what to believe, either. Guess I understand, now, why, Brieli hates me so much. Aishani. And Taikrin... Score one against Taikrin, at least: got promoted to Wingsecond, today. She's not going to be happy about that. It's the strangest thing, though. Being judged for something I did more than a decade ago. Being hated for it. But... that's what leadership is all about. It's not black and white. You know that, too. There aren't easy solutions." He looks at her, abrupt and intense. Ali sips too, but somewhat belatedly, fingers pressing against the glass and finally sliding it back onto the table, though her hand remains loosely curled around the stem. It's K'del's comment that finally draws a more genuine smile of agreement, though it fades as she watches him, silently at first. She doesn't look away as he looks up, though discomfort - at the subject - radiates through the shifting posture, and the way she turns her glass this way-and-that. "I wanted Larentia's child sent as far from us as we could. I /would've/. I've asked that the same be done for those that- that were involved with Issy's eggs. But-" she hesitates, uncertain. "We /weren't/ strong with Bea, and- we /should/ have been. No one else can judge you for making that decision. They can't, unless they were there, balancing the safety of all the people who look to you, against what you think is right." She exhales a slow breath, stretching a hand out across the table, for his. "If we could predict the future, what would happen, it would be- easier. But none of us can. We can only make... difficult choices." The low exhale of K'del's breath answers Ali's words, acknowledging them and, perhaps, finding comfort in them, though it takes him longer to put words together. "Yes," he says, finally. "Yes, exactly. It's not as though I wanted Aishani's people to suffer. Wanted to make sure that my people didn't." Something in his expression suggests he finds some kind of absolution in her words: it's in the softening of his expression, and his stance, and the sigh that escapes. "Nothing is ever simple. Of course it's easy to judge decisions, looking back, but... how can we know that something different would work better? We can't. We all have to live with the decisions we make, and the only thing that really matters is that we make the best decisions we can, at the time." His mouth opens, as though he intends to say more, and then he stops, abruptly. "Depressing talk, isn't it? I'm sorry." She reaches for some of the bread, spreading some of the dip over the surface, nibbling on it briefly. "If she's- to be the Weyrwoman, she'll learn that herself soon enough," but Ali sounds, if anything, sad for that possibility. The dark-haired woman's quick to shake her head for his apology, saying, "It- it helps to have someone else that- that understands." Her smile is faint, but present, and she chews her lower lip, tipping her head momentarily to take in his expression. "I heard a rumor about you the other night." "She will," allows K'del, but oh, his expression speaks volumes about how much he hopes that doesn't happen. It can't be surprising. "Just not sure she'll ever put the pieces together - how one thing might be like another. One difficult decision and another." Her answer to his apology has him smiling, rueful but appreciative: his low exhale says much the same thing. Yes. Yes. "Oh? Hope it was something salacious. Bit of a change from the usual 'he's a terrible person and was a bad Weyrleader' thing." A quick shake of Ali's head is intended to reassure him: "Not as bad as that- although the Weyrleader- N'muir seemed /far/ to pleased to share it. He said," the dark-haired woman pauses with a grimace, "-that you gave N'rov his black eye." She's watching him carefully as she does, and she's not quite adept enough to hide the protective note in her voice. Nor the disgruntled one that follows as she adds, "But he was quick to leap to your defense, too." Mention of N'muir has K'del's mouth twisting, somehow less than enthusiastic, though he's careful to conceal further reactions behind props: another piece of bread; his glass; anything else that comes to hand. "Did he? Leap to my defense, I mean. Can't deny that I did black N'rov's eye, but... it was a flight. Pretty sure most of us have done things we're not necessarily proud of, in flights. N'rov and I are not especially... good friends, as such." Or anywhere near that. "Guess he's protective of his girlfriend, not that I can blame him that." "He said... almost /exactly/ the same thing you did," which only serves to earn a slightly suspicious look from Ali. Clearly she believes this is some boys' club conspiracy. A furrow of brow is accompanied by a fold of arms across her chest. "You never struck me as the sort to- to get into fist fights, K'del. Even for a flight." K'del seems genuinely contrite, and even distinctly awkward, faced with Ali's folded arms and suspicious glance. He looks at the table, mostly, to avoid looking at her. "It's not-- usually. No. It was a combination of things. H'kon. N'rov. Cadejoth doesn't chase many greens, these days, or much at all, but he wanted Daehyeth, and I-- it all kind of got out of control." His discomfort is palpable. "A turn ago, I'd basically never hit a person, ever. Now... I'd rather go back to that old version of me, the one who never resorted to that kind of thing." He misses the softening of Ali's expression, her gaze lingering on him while he looks away. Her arms unfold, ostensibly to refill his glass, but more to give her a moment before responding, slowly, "You've been through a lot, K'del." A beat, then, "You might- might never get back to being the old version of yourself. Maybe it's- just what you need to be, right now," but it's spoken softly; she clearly doesn't like the idea of violence. "I'd just rather not be that person," is K'del's admission, made without him glancing up at Ali. "Not sure I like that person, much, even when that person takes over my brain and makes me want to hit and hurt and... Shells, I don't know. Sometimes, I think I'd be better off just staying out here, tending my vines." Now he glances up, an apology written into his expression. "It'd be easier, if I could just become K'del-the-former-Weyrleader-who-now-grows-grapes. It's just never that easy. And maybe that's okay. Guess I'm still trying to work out who this new version of me needs to be. And--" A pause. "Won't ever cause violence in Isyath's flights, I promise." Ali catches her lower lip in her teeth, thoughtful. "Could you do it? Give it all up? The Weyr?" she leans forward, more interested in the answer than she probably means to let on. A smile appears as he finally glances up, and she murmurs with humor, "You're a wingsecond now. You've /responsibilities/. But you could be K'del-the-wingsecond-who-grows-grapes." She takes a sip of her wine, just before his latter comment earns a mock-threatening finger-wave. "Good. Because if you got hurt, I'd have to-" well, it's no good to threaten violence with violence, so she settles for, "-good." That question catches him unawares: K'del has to stop and think on it, work through it in his head before he can come up with an answer. Even then, the answer is a simple, quiet, "I don't know. If... if Iesaryth goes up first, I'd have to, I think. If Hraedhyth does, maybe. Depends who catches." If it's not Cadejoth, is the implication, though he doesn't spell it out. For the rest, he smiles, 'wingsecond' earning his obvious pleasure, and the rest setting his mouth to twitching. "Noted. No violence. Even if Vhaeryth catches her. Or Arekoth. Just... don't let that happen, okay?" More silence follows his admission, before softly, Ali says with a smile, "K'del-the-hermit-who-grows-grapes. That's not the worst title I've ever heard. I'd bring you regularly cooked meals." A hesitancy creeps into her expression at his last, consternation in her voice. "I've- I've never been able to influence Issy in her flights," she says, slowly, before her gaze drops, while she admits: "I've tried." "At least that means I wouldn't starve," begins K'del, aiming for light-hearted, though it's obvious that his thoughts are already further on, more focused on her later admission. He hesitates, mouth open, and then mimics a fish-face for a few seconds before, "Guess I can't imagine it's all that easy, in the end. Not like I've managed to stop Cadejoth from chasing, when he wants to, and I imagine it's worse-- they'll have who they have, whatever we think. And that's probably fair enough. I mean... it's not like I let Cadejoth decide who I want, right?" He's apologising, somehow, in his tone if not in his words. "At least it's only once every couple of Turns or so for me," says Ali, and she must hear that unvoiced apology, since she's on her feet- glass in one hand, reaching for his with her other. The awkwardness of the conversation- for her, at least- is probably at least partly why she asks abruptly, "Would you give me a tour of your island? Issy's- she's a mess of delight in the skies with Cadejoth, so I suspect it'll be sometime before I can coax her down." There's a smile, of course, of that reflected delight in the dark-haired woman's gaze; there's nothing begruding in the admission. Luckily for Ali, K'del's happy enough to take her hand and to say, "Lucky for you, there are thousands of delights to be found on this here island." His Island. K'del's Island (it has a ring to it!). Granted, some of those delights may be individual grape vines, and the few vegetables he's planted, but there are also the waves beyond the stretches of land, and so many enthusiastic explanations of what, one day, he'd like to see in this spot, and this one, and in this one, too. One might easily get the impression he doesn't often get to enthuse about his horticultural attempts... but it's endearing, at least. For once, she hasn't duties to pull her away, and Ali seems more than happy to listen- in fact, she's curious enough to ask questions about the process, and particularly about timing. But it's his indulgences for the future she's most enthusiastic about- adding suggestions of things he can add in that spot he has earmarked for a shady afternoon retreat, or the place where Issy thinks he should build up a sandy wallow suitable for dragon-lounging. It's more than enough to pass a pleasant afternoon. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 08 Apr 2013 20:28:37 GMT.
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K'del-the-former-Weyrleader-who-now-grows-grapes. Has a nice ring to it. Though, not as nice as "K'del's Island". xD
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