Logs:Tayte and Havi Go to Vegas
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| RL Date: 3 June, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Because where else can you be if you're making impulsive marriage decisions? |
| Where: Tayte's Rooms, Vintner Hall and a winter festival outside Benden proper somewhere |
| When: Day 20, Month 12, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tahvra/Mentions, Vyad/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Tayte's 29th Turnday! Back-dated. Dress, Hair and Necklace. |
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| There have been a lot of changes for Tayte in recent months. The master she had come to assist during his illness has passed away. Since he was her master, there was no lack of tears for his passing. Havi was probably thrilled by that. Especially since her sobbing often just set Tahvra off in spontaneous sympathy. But time has passed since then and now Tayte is less sad and more annoyed. Politics in the Hall are rougher on her now, now that she has (only in interim) the position so many want. After all, teaching at the Hall? That's a sweet gig. It makes her both a target of irrational dislike and a person to suck-up to because her backing might mean something to the MasterVintner when he makes an appointment. Tayte doesn't bear annoyance well, but it helps that she's also taken up running since Tavi started needing her less. Sometimes she runs alone, sometimes with friends, sometimes even with H'vier. The vintner is hardly a fitness nut, but the reason for all the running becomes clear as Tayte enters from the family's hallway into the living space at the end of the short corridor. The children are safely accounted for, so tonight it's safe to be so dolled up. She spins once she's in front of the bronzerider, silvery skirts flowing around her, not a single lock shifting from its place in her elegant updo. "Well?" There's the smallest hint of nervousness as the slow twirl brings her back around to face her waiting date. "How do I look?" Last turnday, she was very pregnant with Tavi, so there was no fancy dress with matching shoes and elaborate hair and make-up, as all the turns before in her adult life. The only thing it's missing is a necklace of some sort, but maybe she skipped that on purpose, just in case. For the most part, H'vier has been supportive and encouraging since Tayte's master passed away. But this is Havi and it's not exactly his most natural state of being. He's made it clear enough a time or two that it's pointless for her to put up with anything she doesn't need or want to because he can provide for everything she and the girls could possibly need. But there's none of that this afternoon. Right now is all about Tayte, and how fantastic she looks. The bronzerider's face says it pretty well on its own, but if that's not enough, there's a very appreciative, "Wow," to go along with it. "Amazing. You look amazing." The way H'vier looks at Tayte makes it obvious he's wondering if they really have to go out at all. "Yes," maybe she's agreeing that she looks amazing. More likely, she's answering the unasked question. Tayte's known this bronzerider long enough to know that's a question; it was the last time they went out on her turnday. "Reisoth doesn't mind taking us over to the festival?" It's not worth betweening, even. The winter festival a ways outside Benden proper that thankfully always coincides with her turnday. It's nothing large, not hosted by the main hold, but a good time for those looking for a pick-me-up amidst the snowy season. There will be many of Tayte's favorite things - drinking, dancing, and Havi. For a moment H'vier seems confused by the word. Then he's feigning a glare before leaning in to give her a light kiss that's unlikely to mess up her makeup. "Of course not. Even if he did, I'd make him, anyway. It's your turnday." A special occasion. "Which reminds me," he continues as though he forgot until now. "You might as well open this now." The bronzerider slips a hand into his jacket to pull a thin box from an inner pocket. The glare gets a pleased smile in answer, the kiss delicately returned. "You know the deal. Make it to the end of the night and you'll get to see what I'm wearing underneath." The smile that comes with these words is coquettish, sweet. Her eyes fall to the box and the smile broadens until it's beaming. She doesn't say 'you shouldn't have,' because it's her sharding turnday and he shelling well should! She steps close to him, letting the side of her body contact the side of his as she pulls the box open. "Oh, Havi," it's on an exhale that isn't quite a gasp, but certainly an awed and delighted noise. "It's perfect!" It might take a little shifting of the carefully placed single shoulder strap, but of course she wants to wear it now. Maybe she even planned it this way? She's practically bouncing as she turns around and holds the open box up, "Help me put it on?" "Oh, is that how this works?" H'vier sounds amused, but amusement turns into a smile as he watches Tayte open her gift. He, of course, is watching her face rather than the box. He already knows what it is and her face is really the best measure of how he's done with these things. When she turns, he carefully takes the necklace out of the box, going through the motions of clasping it at the back of her neck. And once it's in place, the bronzerider leans down to press a kiss to her neck just above where it sits, murmuring, "Mm, you can leave that on later." Tayte doesn't need to answer the first; she knows he knows after over two and a half turns of involvement of a less-than-clothed nature that that is how this works. There's a smile, a secret smile, the kind he doesn't get to see because her back is to him that tells just how very pleased she is with both the gift and probably H'vier on the whole. She turns back around and her arms slide around his neck before giving him a passionate kiss (make up be damned!) and then a smile just for him. "I love you, Havi." Her eyes show it. It's in her voice too. Idiot that she is, she loves him. Chooses him. H'vier manages restraint as he returns Tayte's kiss, careful not to get rough with anything he might inadvertently rip or break. It's an obvious restraint that puts a rumble of arousal in his throat. He might complain about having to wait all night to get her clothes off, but she has to know that he likes having to wait sometimes. Particularly when she's all dressed up like this. "I love you," he returns the sentiment without hesitation. Then, a moment later, he adds in an abruptly more serious, more earnest, voice, "Move in with me, Tayte." There's blinking. There has to be blinking. Of course, with the way her make up is done, it gives her a very attractive flutter to her eyes as she looks up at him. "Move in with you?" Tayte repeats, as if she might not have heard him right. Or maybe to give him a chance to take it back if it was just an impulsive offer in the heat of the moment. She does look really hot. It probably is an impulsive offer, but it's not one H'vier takes back immediately when she gives him the chance. "Move in with me," he repeats like he's even more decided now. "I can get a bigger weyr. A ground weyr, maybe." How can she resist that scruffy face? There's a little laugh. It's not at him, not at all. It's surprise. Pleasant surprise. "Are... are you asking me to be your weyrmate?" Tayte has to ask, not loosening her arms from around his neck. "Do you know how many clothes I own?" Just in case closet space is good reason to back out, though it sounds as though she might be teasing on this score. Maybe she has to add humor because the rest is so very serious a thing. "I'm well aware of all the clothes you own." Maybe not all. But he knows there's a whole hell of a lot of them and that's close enough, right? "I want you to be my weyrmate." H'vier leans to kiss her, the arm around her waist tightening slightly. "Will you and all of your clothes do me the honor of being my weyrmate?" The pretty blush on Tayte's cheeks isn't make-up. She doesn't resist the kiss, the press of her slender form against his muscular one. There's blinking, and "I--" and then, "--yes." It seems to surprise her as much as the initial offer probably surprised him. "Yes. When I can come back to the Weyr, I will." Which must make them now sort of betrothed. Then another surprised, pleased sounding laugh, and certainly her head must be spinning because she's in a stunned sort of silence after. As soon as she says that one word he's no doubt been hoping to hear, something in the bronzerider relaxes visibly. H'vier lets out a sigh, like he was holding his breath, and then his arms around wrapping around her, even lifting her off the ground for a moment before she has her feet back. "Oh, thank Faranth." But instead of lingering on more details, he continues, "We'd better get going before I decide I need to see what's under that dress of yours. Ready?" Despite the threat? Warning? Whatever it is, Tayte dares to push up on her tip-toes to kiss his neck once she's back on her feet, because that's the closest she can get without his help. But then with a beaming smile, "Alright. Let's. I just need my traveling cloak." The sky blue thing that really is thick enough to keep her warm under most circumstances. It's snagged from it's hook in the hallway and joined by a pair of long white gloves and then they're out the door. Soon enough with Reisoth's willing or unwilling assistance they're also over the river, through the woods and to gra-- er, the winter festival with its plentiful bonfires, merry music and the pair of weyrmates-to-be waste no time in joining in the revelry. It's not until they've had plenty of good food, good dances, and, most importantly, good spirits that Tayte has enough liquid courage to ask. "Do you want it to be pretty informal? Some people have little ceremonies with family and friends, or just each other, to sort of formalize things. A little more like a handfasting, but for riders and the people that love them." The next is possibly the most important point, "I could have a dress made..." Truth be told, H'vier enjoys these festivals and all of their festivities. It probably helps to have the most gorgeous woman in all of Pern at his side and in his arms. He's had enough to drink that he doesn't balk at the mention of ceremonies. Instead he says, "As long as you're mine, darling, I'll do whatever you like. But I do kind of like the idea of having another dress to pull off of you. They're like presents. And it's not even my turnday." Then after another moment, "I'm not sure I have any friends I'd invite." Because he doesn't really have actual friends, mostly. There's an easy laugh for dresses being like presents. "Maybe that's what I'll get you for your next turnday. That or a threesome." Tayte says it off-handedly. It might be a trap. Or maybe just a tease, but has she had too much alcohol to decrease the chances of it being either one of those? "What about the people that raised you?" They've briefly talked about his mother, but not much more. "Any of them that you'd want to have come? It'd be silly if it was only my friends and family." So one-sided. "Only," begins H'vier like he feels it quite necessary to make this clear, "if it's a threesome with another woman." He grins, though, as he considers his family and friends. Until it becomes more obvious that he doesn't actually have anyone he would want to come. But he doesn't say that, even if his face sort of does for a moment. "I'm sure there's someone. I could invite some of the girls from Ista. So they can see exactly why I don't visit them anymore." They don't stand a chance against Tayte, clearly. "Final answer?" Tayte asks with raised brow. The translation is that this was not the correct answer as it pertains to threesomes. She must be feeling generous because she's giving him the option to make a second attempt. The arguably more serious topic is, for the moment, forgotten. "What if I promise not to touch her? You can do all the touching. And I can just watch." H'vier has probably thought about this before. Probably more than a few times. Probably not in any configuration other than him and two women. "Or we can do whatever you want to do because I'll be just as happy to have an evening with just you and me." Another dude is apparently not even a consideration. "Havi," There's a warning that even Into-His-Cups-Havi should be able to hear. "Do you want to ruin our perfect evening by giving me the impression that I'm not the only woman you want in your life?" Nevermind that another time she might entertain the suggestion. "That is why you asked me to be your weyrmate, isn't it?" There's a correct answer here. Tayte is not presently worried about gender inequity, but maybe later she'll take her amusement about it out on him in the form of rigorous teasing. "Baby, you are the only woman I want in my life. You're the only woman I need in my life. And in my bed. I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I love you. And that is why I asked you to be my weyrmate." Is he off the hook yet? H'vier may be grinning but there's nothing insincere about anything he's saying. He believes every word of it. One day, Tayte might regret how she melts at that. "Oh, Havi," but she's every bit as stupidly in love as he is. So up from her seat, away from her wineglass and around to his side she comes, snuggling herself up against him. It's after the necessary and heated kissing that she asks breathily, "Can we go home now?" The bronzerider is more than receptive to Tayte's kiss, pulling her into his lap rather than doing anything silly like standing up. Which might make the words that follow all the less believable. "Oh, I don't know. I thought we could stick around here for a few more hours." "We can," Tayte answers easily, belying the way she squirms a little in his lap and the closeness she holds him with her arms around his neck, "But only if you want to see how quickly I can find a man to bring home with us." Threesome! Clearly, she heard him about the requirements. The look H'vier flashes at Tayte suggests he thinks this idea is unacceptable. Granted, this is Tayte so if she pushed hard enough, he might still, reluctantly, agree to something that involved even another man. Especially after a few drinks. But since this is only a little nudge, the bronzerider rises, scooping the woman up in his arms with him, and says, "Why don't we go home now?" Like it was his idea in the first place. The look that answers the first is innocent, but by the time H'vier is sweeping her up, Tayte is laughing merrily. "Wonderful!" She'll readily agree. "Then we'll have a few hours before collecting the girls." A few precious hours all to themselves. Really the only question left is once they're there, will they make it to the bed? |
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