Logs:Date Night
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| RL Date: 29 July, 2015 |
| Who: H'kon, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Vintner Hall, Igen Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'kon and Madilla are somehow invited to a fancy journeyman project wine tasting. They get all pretty, and talk about very important things. |
| Where: Vintner Hall |
| When: Day 23, Month 5, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Dilan/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Keysi/Mentions, Lilabet/Mentions, Raija/Mentions, Treinan/Mentions, Z'kiel/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: H'kon's icon, of course, is just how he's feeling on the inside. |
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| Vintner Hall
H'kon is pretty for the occasion, showing a fresh shave, and a pressed shirt in High Reaches' blue that suits him. His shoulder bears his knot. His arm bears Madilla. Tonight, it's just for them, Raija being seen to at the Weyr, and no drills or sudden departures hanging over their heads in the morning. No wonder that the brownrider is at attention, as careful as that poor vintner in his manners and graces. But at least the smiles come more easily, for Madilla. Smiles like this one. "They've put some effort into this." It's not often that there's an opportunity to get away like this: to get dressed up, to have an evening out, to... do something different. Madilla's clearly pleased by it, although there's also a sense of discomfort, too, being amidst well-dressed people at what is really a fancy event. Still, she turns her head towards H'kon and smiles, squeezing his arm gently. "They have, haven't they? It's lovely. I should see if Tayte is about..." but that would interrupt the date part of date night, and no; that's not going to happen. "Next time, perhaps." That preservation of their time is pleasing; it's there, at the corners of his eyes, and in the slight shift in his arm and shoulder, to bring her in that little bit closer - even if it's more a state of mind than of physical space. Another passing pair earn a nod, as he directs them towards one of those little tables. "Red?" is checked in only once the route is clear, a quick glance sent to the healer. "Red," confirms Madilla, with another squeeze to H'kon's arm. There will be no interruptions tonight (unless via Arekoth, and that's pretty much impossible to avoid). "We'll have to compare it to Tillek wine and-- there are fancy ways to taste wine, but I'm afraid I never especially learned them." This doesn't seem to bother the healer. At all. "I'm so glad we could get away." If that Benden wingleader's green can keep him busy, there's a thin possibility of no interruptions, period. Well, until the ride home. "There is no comparison to Tillek wine," says H'kon, leaning in and up a bit, voice low but proud. "I'm quite certain I learned that as a boy." Another smile, and then, they're at the table, with just one Vintner master in front of them for the pouring. H'kon keeps a respectful distance, of course. "A rarity," is far more emotive than it might seem, and indeed, not even dissatisfied. Rare, for him to be in the moment, but it is known to happen. Madilla's attention focuses on H'kon rather more than on the Vintner, though she glances back and smiles at an appropriate moment all the same. "I'm just glad to not be flying around the globe attending to healer business for once," she says, with a half-sigh that isn't really dissatisfied. "But at least I've been able to see more of Lilabet than I might otherwise, even if it is just to hear her gab on and on about that drummer boy she's interested in." H'kon has never rightly filled a 'father' role with Lilabet, and still, mention of a boy and interest will consistently make him frown. "Kairek had mentioned something of that." The brothers have been talking more, of late. "Not some joke of his, then." Arekoth's as good as any shotgun, really. But then the master goes on her way, and they're next. H'kon lets his arm relax its formal posture, and quiets, for a talk about the wine, about the notes to pay attention to, about the very special cheese. "Sadly not," says Madilla, with an expression that-- well. Lilabet is her little girl, and as easy-going a parent as she is... "Lilabet assures me he's going far, but his hair and-- they seem to have a very interesting idea of music." Which is all she'll say on the subject, really, except for the press of her lips together, and then, yes, the wine. And the cheese. Very important. "I'm not sure about mouldy cheese," she admits, beneath her breath. Despite having relaxed his arm, H'kon is the more formal, the more on parade, for this talk about cheese. Well, the talk from the apprentice. Madilla's comment brings a look around to her, and something delighted in his eyes for the impropriety of it. The look is short, before he's back to accepting the wine, and yes, the cheese. The wine is nosed first. A taste is taken. And he waits for Madilla's cue, cheese in hand, and partly raised, as if in a toast to her. Madilla can, at least, follow directions; she's quite good at that. And so she gives her own wine a sniff, then a taste, letting it linger upon her tongue for long seconds before swallowing. Then, of course, there's the cheese, and her own is raised in a similar way to H'kon's; a toast to them both. She eats... and while her expression suggests she's not wholly sure, she's at least giving it a good, game try, just the way she would with convincing Raija to try something new. Raija's resolve is so much firmer. But then, she wouldn't get to have the cheese. H'kon? He likes it. Eyebrows lift. More of his wine. More of his cheese. And a very polite, "Thank you," to the apprentice, whose title he just barely manages to not add to the address. "That was strange," to Madilla. But good, says the tone, say everything, even the tip of his tongue that traces his lips. "Yes," agrees Madilla. "Thank you." And yes, too, to H'kon, her expression saying more than her words do, though it's only with the faintest lift of eyebrows, and then, that bright, warm smile. "It was," she adds, only belatedly. "But-- perhaps I can see why people eat such things, now, even if it wouldn't suit me on a regular basis." She takes, now, another sip of her wine, this one more focused on the drinking than the tasting. "Perhaps," suggests H'kon, "it's something to do with the dress." The delivery is deadpan, and he turns back to examine the remnants in his glass, before raising them to finish. Thank Faranth this isn't one of those where you have to spit the wine back out. Mouth quirking in restrained but still obvious amusement, Madilla gives H'kon a look, but not a long one. Her own glass finished, she nudges the brownrider at her side and adds, "I wonder if Lord and Lady Benden are here. Or their heir, perhaps..." She breaks off. Gossip isn't really her strong point, but perhaps it's just that it feels wrong to be here and not talking about something inane. H'kon deploys that arm for Madilla again, and might even be seen to raise his chin up a little as some well-dressed holder (but not the holder) passes and looks. "I'd imagine at least they'd have been invited, as a courtesy." He goes so far as to glance to those nearby. "Yes, I'm sure," agrees Madilla, her mouth twisting again, this time in a way to suggest that perhaps she's not wholly comfortable with moving in even remotely the same circles, no matter how well the pair of them scrub up. She accepts that arm, holding on to it as much, perhaps, for comfort as for anything else, as her eyes scan the room, lingering only briefly upon the exit, and then focusing, instead, upon the wine and food on offer. "How is the wing going? Are there any promising riders within the weyrlings you might be interested in taking on, do you think?" "We've been watching them," says H'kon, of the weyrlings. "There are a few. A bronzerider, one of the Igen candidates. A green who might fit, also. Primarily. I'm not certain if it Alpine would benefit Keysi or hinder her." He follows her gaze, offering a parenthetical sort of, "Whichever you'd like, next." After another couple has passed: "There was a strange moment, with Farideh, some time back now, while the dragons were hunting." Madilla's repetition of, "Igen," is thoughtful, and so is her expression in response to that mention of Keysi, but she's already leading the way towards a server who has cheese and sausage in pastry, and a white wine to match. "Strange?" she adds, then, waiting for their wine to be poured. "Strange how? She's--" She's already mentioned her conversation with Farideh, of course. She worries. Of course she worries. H'kon is focused on this whole Weyr business, primarily, but that doesn't mean the pastry things aren't given a good look, too. Nods of thanks to the one doling out wine and food, each, arm once again loose, ready to be used for holding stuff. "She seemed all right," is for Madilla only, and a reassurance, earnest. "Exhausted, but... she is a weyrling goldrider." He'd tried to explain some of it, hadn't he, as much as a brownrider could? "She asked me about a brown in leadership. The second goldrider to do so, recently." He seems to have forgotten there's wine in his hand. Teeth dropping to rest, hard, upon her lip, Madilla seems to largely forget her own food and drink for long moments as she considers H'kon. At length, her nose wrinkles. "I'm glad she's doing better," is what she says, with a slow nod. "I do understand, just... even Azaylia didn't seem quite so exhausted as a weyrling, but I suppose there were two of them, then." As these things go. Carefully, then, "Do you think they're... plotting?" Beat. "You won't chase, regardless." Not really a question. "I've little idea what they're after." He's taken a step or two away from the apprentice with the pastry bits, and not purely to clear the way as would be polite. His thoughts on the food, if he ever remembers it, will either not be shared, or have to be brought back. "I'm not even certain it's us they have in mind at all." And then, a shake of his head. "No. Not for leadership. And even for the other - if there were a gold egg on the sands, before the next one were to rise... then perhaps." Madilla eats now, and even drinks, too, but... it's a side issue, inconsequential in the face of this more serious conversation that has pressed her expression so tight. "Perhaps it's simply a... way of showing power. To imply that they have control in this, that it won't be up to chance. If they convince enough people, it could sway a flight." Perhaps; Madilla seems less than sure on that. "Given... everything, it seems it would be preferable to have three queens, and that relies on Irianke staying forever." "You're speaking hypothetically, rather than specifically," H'kon... hopes? The wine is raised first, almost to his lips when he thinks to stop, to sniff at it, to stare at it too, for whatever good might come of it. The pastry follows with a flat, "Hm," as he chews. "My thoughts exactly. I'm not certain how long it is she means to stay. I've a mind to speak with K'del, if he'll answer my questions. Arekoth has been a father once now. There are more important matters than that." Which is, in itself, thoughtful. He waits on Madilla, watching for her response(s), and eats more. Madilla's low, serious nod confirms the hypothetical nature of her thoughts, though there's a hesitation to it, as if she's not wholly sure. Not to mention, "I hope so. I wouldn't presume to speak of their actual intentions." She swirls the wine in her glass, sips, and then adds, "I should think he'd be willing to say something. He's... vulnerable." But those green eyes are studying H'kon and then she says, "Which?" The important matters. "We speak well enough. Most times," says H'kon of his weyrleader. There's something not troubled, but close, in his face. And then he shakes his head, and raises his glass again. This time, the sip is given proper focus. Initially. His eyes do track to Madilla toward the end of the experience. "All those future considerations. It's more than just us. Has always been." He's watching her still, when he lifts the glass for the last. That pastry is long gone. On an exhaled breath, "Yes," agrees Madilla. If there's more to say on it, perhaps her expression, so serious and intense, goes some way to express it all. Her own wine is turned in her hand, stem caught between two fingers. H'kon remains almost perfectly still, even his fingertips. What motion there is is subtle: a slight lift of his chest, a pull at the corners of his eyes that dares to shift his expression into something... else. Madilla makes no effort to hide the troubled nature of her thoughts, sucking a breath in through her teeth before she turns to the apprentice and extends her glass for a refill, gesturing, this time, to suggest she'd like more than simply the taster. It's once that has been achieved that she reaches to draw H'kon after her, and away from the crowds to a quieter corner. She's silent. It's because the apprentice looks to H'kon, once Madilla's glass has been filled, because the bottle is extended, that H'kon offers his glass as well. He takes the onus of nodding thanks upon himself, and allows Madilla to direct him. Now, passing others aren't acknowledged. Quite calm, despite those actions immediate prior to her words, Madilla says, "I would prefer not to discuss the intricacies of High Reaches politics in the middle of a crowd." And, "What are you thinking?" "Hm," says H'kon, a shade of agreement in it. "That I know too little of our goldriders," is quite to the point. "That we've had a foreign goldrider before." His fingertips press a bit harder against that glass in hand, flattening somewhat. "Have you spoken with her at all?" Farideh, he knows about, at least most recently. Madilla shakes her head, gaze dropping towards her glass rather than her weyrmate, at least temporarily. "Not in any detail," she says. "Were I still Weyrhealer..." But she's not. She sucks in a breath, holds it, and then exhales. "She seems competent." "Ambitious, also," says H'kon, too soon. Then, his teeth click as they set together. He reconsiders, "Perhaps that was misspoken. I'm uncertain how hypothetical her considerations were, when we spoke." When he was spoken to. "An inexperienced bronzerider, that would be a concern. Could be." This time, Madilla does turn her gaze back towards H'kon, more thoughtful than as intensely worried as before, though her nod is nothing but uncertain. "Yes," she agrees. "Or a foreign one. I don't imagine anyone would be pleased to have an Igenite Weyrwoman and... another outsider as Weyrleader." "No," comes, agreement again. "For that matter, should Roszadyth mature quickly enough... we are left with inexperience. And who has there been to guide her, as a weyrwoman?" H'kon raises his glass, more, it seems, to hide behind it than for a drink. "Drifting again." Madilla sucks a breath in through her teeth, nodding. "It was difficult enough last time." Inexperienced weyrwomen; an endless cycle. "I would-- rather the Weyr maintain steady leadership. At least K'del has been a stable presence, since Irianke stepped up." "Since before," says H'kon with a light lift of his eyebrows. As it's there, still, he'll tilt that wine to his lips. There's an element of absurdity in, "I prefer reds, generally." Another nod: yes, since before. And then Madilla manages a smile. "Me, too. But I liked the look of those pastries, and they seemed intent on putting the white with them... if the goldriders are actively canvassing for new Weyrleader potentials, perhaps Alpine ought to be strong about reminding the Weyr of the present Weyrleader." "Perhaps," agrees H'kon. "If the bronzerider at its helm can be so convinced." But it's said with a tick of something in his face; a notion put aside, for later. "Arekoth wants to chase," is added in, after that. Madilla presses her lip against the rim of her glass, exhales, then draws it back again. "Of course he does," she says, the left corner of her mouth turning up. It's a report that comes, seemingly, without any input from the brown, still otherwise occupied. H'kon smiles a little easier for a moment, and takes another sip of wine. There's a glance back to the crowd, to the other stations, thus far untested. Instead, fingers reach for Madilla's arm. "Are you content? In being away so much. Not Weyrhealer." Surely, it's related somehow. Though tired, Madilla's smile is warm, at least. "On the whole," she says, simply. "I miss being Weyrhealer. I miss having that connection to people. I miss being home. But..." She gives her well-dressed shoulders a gentle shrug. "I'm also aware of how important my new work is. And it isn't as though I don't like it." It's just not the same. "You'd not give it up?" H'kon probes, albeit gently. One finger taps at the glass in his hand, which lowers, toward his abdomen. "Or?" Madilla's breath catches, slightly. It gets held a few moments, then released. "I don't know that they'd let me." "The same concerns, then," murmurs the brownrider, "as ever." It's not satisfied, the look he puts on her, and there's some element of concern in it, as well. "I liked it," he admits, more on account of the comfort and trust between them than what little wine he's had thus far, "when it was more... rounded?" Madilla's swallow is hard. She looks... sad? Regretful? Apologetic? Her teeth drop to rest upon her lower lip, biting in to it as she inhales through those teeth, then exhales again. "Now that Treinan has made Journeyman," she says, slowly. "I expect he'll be assigned to work with my project." Oh no. It's not what he'd wanted. H'kon even raises a finger to brush towards her cheek. "Then it will be good for him to have your guidance," is a change of everything: posture, intonation, approach. He follows it with a nod. "And we will do our best to maintain stability and support at home. Whatever it is that should mean for us." Her eyes close, as that finger brushes her cheek, but Madilla's not actually done. "Guidance," she agrees. "To begin with. But--" Those eyes open, focusing, intent, upon the brownrider. "In a few months, it could be that... he can do more of the travel. Especially if there were a situation in which." A pause. "It were more difficult for me to do it." Her brows may have raised, just ever so slightly. H'kon's eyebrows are sympathetic eyebrows, this time around. They follow Madilla's, mirror them. A deep inhalation. A, "Hm," to buy him time, to study her. To shift his stance a bit, the glass in his hand all but forgotten. "I've not... not thought on it." Madilla's cheeks are, by now, faintly pink. "I want to be home more," she says, quietly. "Before Dilan leaves," an inevitability, "And while Raija's still little." That it would allow her to be around more while all of this uncertainty goes on must go without saying; for the moment, the personal seems to have outweighed the political. H'kon's voice has dropped to something even below a whisper. As if anyone else might be here for this conversation. As if he might fully realise the conversation they're having himself. "But more than that, Madilla..." It's almost a question. And one that shelves the political neatly, at least for the time being. Wry, now, and ever so faintly embarrassed, Madilla drops her gaze... and her voice, too. "I'm not that far off thirty-six," she says. "I want another baby. I want... your baby. I don't even know if it's possible," she adds, more quickly now, "I know we've tried to avoid it, and... but everyone knows that's not a foolproof method. But I... I would like to try. If you're willing." The look on her face? It suggests she didn't even mean this to come up, perhaps ever. But here it is. And H'kon swallows hard, and for a moment channels his weyrling self, that same twitter of wings in his stomach and eager uncertainty before that first trip between with his dragon. But that face is tempered with more lines. He does his best to school the expression and feeling with a solemn nod. "I'm not certain it will be. You may be," oh, there's the weyrling again, "disappointed." Speaks the man whose brown flies regularly, catches often enough, the man who has been weyrmated for turns, and has no offspring whatsoever to show for any of it. "And you?" Madilla's voice is not far off trembling. "Would you be disappointed?" "I have considered for some time that, even if we were to come to this point, it may not be a possibility." H'kon's voice has found those slow and measured tones of his. And he speaks quietly, so quietly. But eyes have fallen somewhere in the vicinity of the very top of his wine glass. Yes. Madilla, as adept as she is at reading H'kon, watches him, now. And nods, just once. "I want to try," she says, simply. "It won't be the end of the world, if it doesn't work out. Raija is still our daughter. But whether or not it... takes, I will work with Treinan, and reduce my travel accordingly. I want to be home." She's more sure, now, in tone and in stance. Her chin has lifted, her shoulders drawn themselves back. "That would be... good," mouths H'kon. There's a little breath behind it. Tiny bit. But the shelf under those politics must have creaked, and he, too, straightens, and dips his head in acknowledgement of its contents. "There are many things that are better, when you're there." A cough almost sounds like an escaped laugh, nerves releasing. "We should have more wine." "Good," is what Madilla says, in answer, likely answering more than what lays upon the surface of their conversation; all that is unsaid. "I will... reach out to the acting weyrwoman. And to Farideh, again. And--" But he's right: wine. This conversation has become too heavy, and her smile is a little too tentative as a result. "We should. It would be a waste, not to make the most of this." She offers, now, her arm. "Good," says H'kon, of Irianke. "Good," more emphatic, for Farideh. H'kon holds out his arm for hers, nods, and straightens his back, daring to step into his dragon's territory of bravado with a Sidelong smiles to his weyrmate. "And of the empty weyr, when we've finished here." More presently: "Red again?" Madilla's blush confirms the implications of that empty weyr, her smile rather brighter, now. "Red," she agrees. "And something cheesy to go with it." Her eyes linger upon her weyrmate for a few moments before she tugs him after her; the wine awaits. So does the cheese. |
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Comments
Roz (07:56, 30 July 2015 (PDT)) said...
FINALLY. :D
Alida (23:16, 30 July 2015 (PDT)) said...
I wonder what little H'kons (of any gender) look like... *chinscritches* ;)
H'kon (23:25, 30 July 2015 (PDT)) said...
This.
H'kon (23:25, 30 July 2015 (PDT)) said...
Oh gawds it linked the whole picture and it's massive. But still. That.
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