Logs:In All Fairness
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| RL Date: 9 July, 2016 |
| Who: Jocelyn, Lys, Aidavanth, Evyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The day after Aidavanth's maiden flight, lovers have words. |
| Where: Jocelyn's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 3, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Jaine/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions |
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| It's late in the morning the day after her flight before Aidavanth reaches for Evyth, interested to share perspectives and 'is-this-what-it's-like-for-yous' in best-friend, sisterly fashion. During a lull in that brand of chatter, there's also a more serious, « Jocelyn hasn't asked me yet to have you tell Lys to come see her, but she needs to talk with her. I think you should both visit when you're done working. » As usual, Jocelyn still hasn't changed out of her crisp shirt and tailored pants by the end of the work day. Unusually, she's crouching in the doorway to her sleeping room, scrutinizing the floor with a frown. "Jaine, tell them to give it another round of scrubbing, " she calls in the direction of the exit to the weyrleader complex where, presumably, her assistant has just departed, brushing off her knees as she pushes to her feet. With that done, she unpins her hair and disappears into the bathing room, apparently adding something that smells faintly of lavender since the small bits of steam escaping into the outer weyr afterward reflect such a scent. Evyth is warm, as usual, though as the conversation goes on, she ends up asking more questions than providing insightful comparisons since it has been long enough since the last time she rose that Lys has to be the source of all that information, and perhaps it's not Lys' favorite subject just now. When Aidavanth makes that invitation, there's something uneasy in the green's tone as she makes answer, « Lys... hasn't wanted to... intrude... But if you think it is the right time, she will come. We both will. » It's unclear if Evyth's playing escort is just because she'd like to spend time with her sister (as she often does) or because she'd like to be close for support, but an intelligent mind might well assume both correctly. That Lys hasn't wanted to intrude is not evident in her approach now, though, coming to lean in the doorway of the bathing room after a polite greeting to Aidavanth and leaving the girls to their own devices. She waits until she's sure she's not going to startle the goldrider at a bad moment before greeting her with, "Joce." Her tone is pleasantly neutral, her expression a mask, one that even includes the light touch of freshly retouched cosmetics. This effort with her face is at odds with the old, over-sized sweater (that once was surely a man's) worn over her warm wool leggings. It's a look of comfort, the sort for a night where a girl stays in on the couch, not gets dolled up and comes to see her lover. « Intrusions are sometimes necessary, » replies Aidavanth delicately, affectionate relief washing over them both once Evyth's here. It isn't a bad moment, but Jocelyn is certainly startled when she whirls around at the sound of Lys's voice, blue-gray eyes wide. "Lys." In contrast, she wears no mask for her surprise, and searches the other's face sharply. "What are you - " Lips pressing suddenly into a line that's very thin, the still-robed redhead folds her arms over her chest, throat bobbing in a swallow that looks more like a grimace. "Aidavanth. I see." Exhaling, she leans against the wall so that she can better face the greenrider, brows knitting. "So that's what you experience every time Evyth goes up. It's - not what I expected it to be." Not that any part of what's transpired has been. "And it's left me wondering if you're - happy with how things are, truly. We'll never be able to be as close as if Aidavanth had been shelled blue or brown and we could both - " One hand lifts, almost extends to the blonde, and then drops back to her side. "I don't want this to be unfair to both of us, but I especially want you to be as happy as you can be. Openly weyrmated with someone with whom you can share all of that, too, if that's what you wish for. Last night, I felt, for the first time, that I've somehow been keeping you from the full measure of an experience you deserve." She doesn't bother to disguise the uneasiness that rolls through her features, and her grip on her arms tightens self-protectively. Lys might've offered to go, but once the words are spilling out of Jocelyn, she remains silent, not moving from where she leans, in silent study of the redhead's face and body language as she speaks. There's a few moments of silence that follow; it's a lot to take in and that probably accounts for it. Lys studies the floor in those moments and then looks back up to the goldrider. Rather than answering Jocelyn's concerns immediately, she asks, "Is that what you want? Now. To be openly weyrmated with someone with whom you can share all of that?" It's hard to say if there's silently, implicitly the question, 'With Edyis?' or if specific individuals haven't yet entered her consideration of the goldrider's words. "I don't know." It's an honest answer, at least, and the goldrider's head shakes briefly. "Everything is still a blur, Lys. I don't remember much of what happened between sitting down to dinner and fighting with Aidavanth before she took off. I felt - I feel - like I'm still re-gathering my wits." Lashes briefly casting downward, she adds more quietly, "I do remember that when I came to, the first thing I said to Edyis was, 'you're not Lys' because I wished that it could have been you with me. She - put two-and-two together, naturally. Nonjudgmentally." The last adverb is almost an afterthought, pale eyes lifting to peek up at the younger woman again. "I feel that I should be asking your forgiveness, both for inadvertently telling someone - and for letting her stay the remainder of the evening. Everything felt so - " Beat. "Close." It comes out small. Lys' lips twitch just a little at the admission that their private relationship is no longer as private as it was the day before at this time. Briefly, her eyes betray the intensity of the thought processes going on behind that mask, calculating all the ways things could go from here - weighing those possibilities. It can't really be reassuring the way that the blonde continues to look at the redhead, the mask covering over even that much sharing with this woman she professes to love. It's moments of empty silence later that Lys manages to say in a tightly controlled voice, "You have nothing to ask my forgiveness for." She straightens, shrugging her shoulders, "Flights are flights." If it's hard for Lys to say that, there's no outward sign. "But if you think you want a relationship that includes shared flight experiences, that's something to figure out." It's said blandly, but a little shortly. It might explain why Lys isn't moving toward Jocelyn at all or displaying any body language that would encourage Jocelyn to come to her. "If you want a relationship that includes weyrmating, that's something to figure out, too," is said a little more quietly, a little more gently, with a trace more upset emotion than anything else has held. It's not reassuring. Neither is the way that Jocelyn's expression shutters as she silently takes in Lys's various responses, and lack thereof. "I - had always hoped that there would be some set of circumstances in which we could, " she admits to that last bit on weyrmating, posture straightening. "But I've never been sure that that's what you've wanted. If it's even something you've wanted. With me. I don't doubt how you feel for me, but even now Lys, you keep some part of you at arm's length." She's frustrated, but judging by the way the hold of her chin doesn't stay completely steady, it's more out of sadness than anger. "Has an evening at a time, here and there, been enough? Does it feel fair to you? Or is it just what's easiest, being with me, being with V'ret, being with whoever - without having to think about what could be, what might be, keeping everyone in their own little compartments?" Out on the ledge, Aidavanth has a mental cringe for Evyth, and a silent apology. This is not going according to plan. Even in the face of that, Lys is silent and her eyes betray nothing. There isn't, at least, a pause before she responds this time. "I'm sorry you don't feel it's fair to you." Her fingers curl around the bottom of the overlarge sweater, a small movement that must be trying to wring a little more comfort out of the worn fibers than just this choice of wardrobe for this meeting already affords. She flinches just a little when she explains, "There isn't a whole person here," one hand rises to touch her own chest, "that you could love." Then, quickly, hurriedly, "I want you to be happy, Joce. It's what I've always wanted for you and I've been happy to be able to make you so, but-" But. She doesn't seem to know what else to say, so she's turning with a duck of her head to lead the movement to hurry toward the ledge and the perturbed green waiting there, Evyth's heart and mind heavy with a much deeper knowledge of her lifemate than anyone else in this conversation could possibly have. "But what?" Jocelyn follows, expression fearful as she reaches for Lys's hand with the aim of tugging gently on it in an entreaty to stop. "Fair to me? Lys, I'm worried about what's fair for you and best for your well-being! And only you can tell me how you feel. I can't guess or read minds and I'm not going to use my dragon's connection with yours to find something you may not want to tell me. What do you mean that you aren't a whole person that I could love?" (What are you hiding?) "Please talk to me." (Don't leave.) Lys doesn't fully stop when Jocelyn tugs on her hand, but does stop after just enough steps to be out of easy reach to half-turn back toward the goldrider and at least hear her out. "I can't," comes with a puffed out breath that is part frustration, part exasperation. "I can't talk to you right now. I have--" she makes a helpless gesture in the air, "too many things going on in here," she indicated her chest before letting her hand fall back to her side. "I'm not-- it's not the flight," maybe it would be better if it were the flight, "it's--" Lys obviously struggles to find anything resembling the right words. "I can't," are words loaded with frustration and defeat. She darts back long enough to press a quick kiss to Jocelyn's lips, as if this confusing gesture is somehow meant to be reassuring - or maybe it's just an apology - before turning to flee the room at what becomes a jog by the time she reaches the ledges. For once, Evyth has little to offer as she's moving to take off beyond a genuine, « Sorry, » full of a quiet heartache. Without information available to analyze beyond the admission that there's more going on than the greenrider's letting on, Jocelyn can't pull sense out of 'I'm not' and 'I can't.' Lys's quick kiss, however, that makes her face crumple; although her fingers twitch as if she'd like to reach for the blonde again, she remains in place, watches her flee before wiping at her eyes with the back of one hand in a sharp, angry motion. Shoulders slumping, she resumes drawing her bath, remaining there long afterward with a far-off look for the wall. Aidavanth, a dragon of words, has none for what's unfolded. Nor does she make to stop Evyth, despite having the capability. It's a quiet, « Me too, » that reaches for the green some minutes after. |
Comments
Silva (19:11, 10 July 2016 (PDT)) said...
</3
Squishy (04:07, 11 July 2016 (PDT)) said...
Heartbreaking and yet, I feel like there is more to this story. I can't wait to see how it unfolds.
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