Logs:The Ghost of Life Long Past
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| RL Date: 11 June, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Tayte comes home to an unexpected and unwanted visitor. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, Oliwer/Mentions, Tahvra/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Vignette style. |
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| It was any other day. Tayte, not long back at the Weyr and back to work, had gone through her usual day's duties with the craft and later at the bar. The girls were with their respective fathers. Havi had wanted her to come by with Tahvra, but Tayte had demurred, asking that he take her so Tayte could get some unpacking done and come by later in the night. If he did, he could stay; that was a deal the bronzerider had been willing to make. He didn't even argue that she didn't need to unpack because she should be moving in with him soon enough. This time. The truth was she was already unpacked. Everything tucked neatly in its place, but she hadn't had him by to see that, so it still worked as an excuse. She slipped the key into the familiar lock and pushed the door open, stepping into the dim glow light. It was familiar. So was her routine, open the glow basket by the door so the light was greater. Take off her cloak and hang it. Move to change out of her work clothes and wash her face. She never made it past opening the glow. He was frowning, and it was never good when he frowned. He looked perfectly natural sitting in the loveseat, as if he belonged there. And yet, he didn't. Not even the littlest, tiniest bit. She couldn't find her voice. Her heart thudded against her chest, raging like a caged bird seeking any way out. She knew her eyes were straining, staring, she forced a blink as if that would make the man with his too cool mask vanish. But it didn't. "Tayte." His voice lacked emotion. That frightened her. It took her time to wet her lips, to get her mouth moist enough to move her tongue and form the question. "What are you doing here?" "It's a funny story, actually." But he's not laughing. The silence invited the question, but Tayte didn't want to ask. Instead, she offered, "Would you like a drink?" "No." She knew that would be the answer. Still, she used the offer as an excuse to move to the booze dresser and break out a bottle. She knew he was watching her; she didn't need to look. "Ask me what the story is, Tayte." She didn't want to. But she did. "It seems we have yet another common acquaintance. Two, in fact. I want you to tell me what you know about them." So she did. She didn't dare refuse. The drink helped her keep from shaking like the first changed leaf of autumn, though she was no less eager to escape her home just now. "Good girl." The patronizing praise made her feel small. That's no doubt what he wanted. He always calculated for just the desired effect. "Will you go now?" She found herself asking, staring not at him, but at the wall opposite her. She knew better than to ask why he wanted to know. "I will." He rose. But his path didn't take him to the door. Instead he crossed to her, swiftly pressing her bodily against the dresser. With other men, this would've been about sex. With this man she knew better. This was a threat. "One more thing," His whisper was practically a growl. "If you ever take advantage of Oliwer again, I'll be back. Do you understand?" Tayte's thoughts exploded in all directions at once. True, the healer was one of the men this man had asked about, but how would he know? She didn't tell that part. Furthermore, why should he care? She knew she shouldn't ask, but then she couldn't not. "Why?" It wasn't really the question she wanted to ask but it was the only strangled word that made it out. "Because he's my weyrmate." Weyrmate, the word sent her thoughts skittering in all new directions as he stepped away. "Gallagher-" She started as he did. She wanted to ask more, but he cut her off. "It's G'laer, now. Alpine Wing. High Reaches Weyr." The gasp came in reverse. How had she missed that? The air whooshing in made her cough. She was lucky it was only air. By the time the fit had passed, he was gone, the door ajar. Moving swiftly, she pressed it closed, looking at the useless lock. The look lingered only a moment before she whirled and pressed her back to the door, not that that would do much good if he decided to come back. Maybe it was time to move in with H'vier after all... |
Comments
Alida said...
His anger manages to be even more dangerous than Alida's, since he keeps it all inside... usually. A nice and kinda-creepy glimpse.
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