Logs:A Stolen Evening
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| RL Date: 11 December, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del drops in on Tayte, who is unexpectedly free. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 7, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Iska/Mentions, Jeyli/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
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| Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr The peculiar shape of this room suggests that it was unintentionally expanded, cement holding the ceiling together towards the peculiarly shaped alcove build into the back corner. It's larger than most personal quarters as a result, and though the uneven walls mean nothing sits flush, there's plenty of room for more than the usual amount of furniture. The larger lobe of the lopsided kidney shape that the room has might be considered a studio room. A large bed is tucked into the roundest part of the alcove, though there's a gap behind where the straight headboard does not meet the wall. It's piled high with furs and pillows. In this curve there's also a wardrobe, a dresser, and nightstands. Hooks extending from the ceiling over the dresser have been rigged with two layered chain-link that holds a number of bottles of alcohol of different varieties. The highest drawer in the dresser which is bizarrely the largest locks with a key. Opposite it, closer to the door, is a hearth that's had a throw rug and loveseat set in front of it, along with a few low tables. A set of shelves and a small desk sit opposite the curve of the smaller end of the room. Around the curve and into the little lobe, one finds a great change. There's color everywhere instead of the muted things in the front half. Scarves and streamers hang from little hooks installed in the ceiling, their lengths varying, and a crib is set up in the middle with two small boxes that have toys poking out of their not-quite-shut lids. There's a tall table stocked with all the tools a mother needs (well, those that are safe to be at toddler height) and a small dresser and wardrobe. The furniture is all hand-me-downs but in decent enough condition to make the occupants comfortable. It's been just short of four months since K'del's already-busy life became busier still with the addition of his newest daughter, and so perhaps it's no surprise that his social visits with Tayte have petered off even further: there's just not enough ours in the day. Tonight, however, the bronzerider has found himself at a loose end, his presence not expected at Fort, and his duties tidy enough that he can walk away at a decent hour. He's still not moved into the Weyrleader's Weyr - not until/unless it gets confirmed! - but he has been storing things there; it's a quick stop there, then, before he crosses the bowl in the direction of the complex and Tayte's door, which he gives a tentative knock, his other arm holding something securely. It's a few moments before, "Coming!" is called to the closed door by Tayte's familiar alto, and a few more before it's opening and she's there. Her hair is damp and there's a brush in one hand, her garment a pair of loose pants and form-fitting t-shirt, both in a soft blush shade. "Kas," She greets with raised brows, surprised, but not unpleasantly. "Everything alright?" That might speak to the way visits have become, but it's not a tone that judges, just... that's the first logical thing to ask because they've been busy. "Everything's fine," says K'del, quickly, his tone aiming for reassuring. "Really. Just... well, at a loose end for once, and thought I'd see if you were free... also, I've got something for you, and I've been meaning to give it to you for ages." Presentation-wise, the gift doesn't have much going for it: it gets thrust at Tayte, a glass bottle of clear liquid wrapped up in an old sack. Tayte is easily reassured, in this case. He doesn't look out of sorts, after all. "You've good timing, then. Vali's being watched because I thought I'd have to work late again tonight, but I finished early, so..." She purses her lips, "Well, I sort of thought I'd leave her where she was and take a little time. That's not awful, right?" Hopefully he'll be as reassuring about this as she opens the door to invite him in, eying the sack now in her hands. She slips the bottle out easily enough. A single raised brow asks the question: 'what?' K'del's tone is firm when he says, "No, it's not awful at all. We all need time to ourselves-- or, at least, away from our children. You don't mind company, given that? Don't have to stay." It has him hovering by the door rather than immediately stepping inside, though his hesitation does not extend to explaining his gift: "It's a kind of plum wine, I think? But made in an unusual way, with a bunch of added ingredients. Seems kind of more like a liquor to me, but what would I know? My sister's family is experimenting, and I thought you might be interested." His hovering is met with a roll of Tayte's eyes, and a reach of her hand to grasp his arm and tug at him. She's hardly using enough strength to really move him if he doesn't want to be moved, but it's more to get the idea across anyway. "It seems only fitting that we steal time together. Besides, what kind of best friend to the Weyrleader would I be if I turned down some of his precious time?" This last question comes teasingly. Then there's a smile for the bottle. "Of course. I'm always interested in alcohol." Which is probably unsurprising given her vocations and avocations. "You'll have some with me?" Presumably she means now. K'del is easy enough to move, his stillness prompted, it seems, more out of caution than any real refusal. "Good point," he tells her, grinning, as he steps inside, shaking his arms free of the formal jacket he's still wearing despite the warmth of the evening. "Sure, if you feel like sharing. Better than the wine they make, anyway. Better than the wine I'm never going to make at this rate, which is a shame." This is Tayte's space, so it's neat and tidy. Doubtlessly in an effort to keep it that way, the vintner reaches to take K'del's jacket with the same hand that holds her hairbrush, and provided he surrenders it, hangs it on the hooks that are kept orderly on the wall by the door. Sure, K'del could do this himself. But then it wouldn't hang just so and so neatly. It's been over a turn since they agreed to share Yvalia, and coming up on two since their friendship began, so Tayte doesn't tell him to make himself at home; surely he'll know to do that himself as she moves toward where the glasses and bottle opener is kept. "Well, I'm glad you bring me the good stuff." If it's better than the wine. There's a low chuckle for the last. "Someday. You can make your wine someday. When the kids are older and your knot's a little smaller. So, you, know, in thirty turns or so." She teases lightly. It's with a smile that K'del relinquishes his jacket, clearing having anticipated something just like that happening, sooner or later. He sits on the loveseat, turning himself bodily so that he can watch her with the drinks. "Hah," he says, wryly. "Thirty turns or so. That many? Guess I was hoping for no more than fifteen. Maybe eighteen. I mean, if there are more kids..." he breaks off, then shakes his head. "Anyway. It's not really in my hands, is it? And I wanted it, all of it." As ever, Tayte's hands are deft and soon the drinks are poured. The hairbrush is left behind in favor of two-fisting the carrying over to the loveseat where she offers one to the bronzerider. "You're fooling yourself. You already tried to quit that knot once," She points out, teasing still. "I meant thirty turns just to get the knot swell back down to a reasonable level for wine-making." She settles herself beside him, tucking her feet up as is her custom. "Does she want more?" It's a polite inquiry, the tone carefully schooled. K'del accepts the drink with a smile, turning the glass around in his hand for several thoughtful seconds before he attempts an answer - and even then, taking a sip from his drink takes first priority. "Wonder if I'll ever be able to quit properly, for good," he muses, but at least he's smiling about it. "Maybe one day." An apology flusters his cheeks pink, though doesn't end up being voiced out loud, as he hesitates over her question. "She does," he admits, cautiously. "Not in the we've-talked-about-it-recently sense. But yes. And I do, too. I was one of nine; even five seems too few to me, and Ali... she's used to big families, too." Tayte takes her time observing the liquid before she takes a sip, and the sip lasts a while as she lets the liquid drift around on her palate. "Do you have to wonder about that?" The question indicates that Tayte, at least, has an educated guess on the answer. She takes another sip of the liquid before nodding. "Good. Good that you both want the same things." The tone might be a little lackluster, but not insincere. "Who knows. If I have to have another on my own to get the one I want, maybe you'll want to adopt that one too. You know, do my part." There's some humor there, but perhaps not as much as there might once have been. He tries, but there's really no way for K'del to hide his wince, not when it has him closing his eyes and exhaling before he can recover enough to reach for Tayte's hand. "I'm sorry," he says, quietly and genuinely, attempting to meet her gaze now in an earnest sort of way. "It was unfair of me to... talk about that, knowing... it's hard." But clearly harder for her than it is for him. "Heard a rumour you were seeing someone, at least?" Tayte seems almost surprised that K'del is taking her hand and then she shakes her head. "No. No, it's fine." Firmly. "I can try again. The healers seem confident about that. I just have to be more careful next time. I'm not ready yet to try, but someday I will be." She seems relatively confident about that. As to the someone... the blonde's nose wrinkles. "You're going to think I'm stupid." Can he guess already? "No, I just think you have... strange taste in men." K'del, certainly, can't seem to understand it - but aside from a shake of his head and a shrug, he doesn't comment further. Instead, sighing, he admits, "I still think about Io's baby a lot. She'd be four, now. And when I look at Iska... Io's baby would've been blonder, of course, but I still think about it. Whether she would've kept us up all night, how she would've smiled at me, even if it's probably just gas. You'll get your next chance, Tayte. When you're ready." "I fancied you, so I guess you can say that again." Tayte quips from over her glass, her tone once again teasing. It's the only lightness she can manage before her fingers are curling around K'del's. "They'll never leave us. I would have named him Tayver. He wouldn't be one yet." She thinks about him too. "Havi doesn't want to try again. So things with him won't last. I want another baby someday. He doesn't. He won't be keen on me getting a baby with someone else. So." So that's that. Doomed from the start! Although, weren't they always anyway? K'del's gaze drops towards their joined hands, as his fingers give Tayte's a light squeeze. "Accidents happen," he murmurs, less suggestion and more... well, vague possibility, perhaps? "In any case, you've plenty of time. Turns and turns before it becomes a problem, right? It will happen." Now, his gaze slides back towards his drink, which he sips at cautiously. Tayte sighs, half resigned and half wistful. "Yeah. Eventually. Something." She frowns then. "I-- I think he doesn't want to try again because it's... It hit him hard. I know people are used to thinking of him as not functioning on an emotional level, but, he wanted our baby. From the beginning. It was an accident, but I was the one that didn't want it in the beginning." Why is she sharing this? Maybe because she needs to say it out loud. Then, "Sorry. You probably don't want to hear about H'vier's emotions." She shakes her head and gives another squeeze to his fingers before she's slipping her hand free to return to her glass. Topic change! "Still remembering to feed yourself regularly?" In other words, how's the Weyrleading gig? K'del lets Tayte take her fingers back, though he's quick to say: "You can tell me, Tayte. Won't make faces, or turn it into an eye-rolling contest or anything. I'm not surprised it hit him hard; reckon most of us'd feel that way." It leaves him to exhale, tangled up in his own memories and emotions for some seconds before, finally: "I"m doing my best. The kitchens send me in food, which helps, and Ali... no one can starve, around Ali." He pauses, then adds, "It's easier, now that Nabol is sorting itself out. It feels less... up in the air." If Tayte's lips tighten slightly at the way he speaks of Ali, that can't count as making a face, can it? It's a tiny unconscious thing, and hidden behind her glass anyway. "I wouldn't mention to him that you're aware he has feelings of any kind. It wouldn't go well for either of us." No, she's not encouraging of K'del-H'vier heart-to-hearts, not even given their similar experiences. "Well, that's good. Maybe you'll have more time if things continue to smooth out. More time to make the memories. The young time goes by too fast, I think. I mean, maybe that's just the miasma of sleep deprivation that makes it seem that way in hindsight." She reflects on her experience with a little girl the age of K'del's newest daughter. K'del, certainly, doesn't seem to notice. "Promise, I won't mention it to him. Not like we see each other socially anyway." He sips at his glass, concentrating on the taste of the alcohol in his mouth, and the sensation of it as he swallows, before he actually says anything more. "Hope so. It's... they grow up so fast. I'd forgotten, you know? Doing the best I can, but it's hard, not actually living there. Not... that I ever would move to Fort. It's got to be this way, so we do the best we can." "You might someday, though." Tayte notes. "Well, not really socially. But. I hear he does a decent job with Wingseconding. So maybe someday..." She doesn't so much say H'vier should get a job as Wingleader, but just that it's possible. A sympathetic hand finds his knee for a gentle touch, but it doesn't linger. "You know if there's anything I can do to help-- to give you more time to be there, especially now, you just have to ask." Where some things have a little taste of the bitter when she says them, this has none. It's sincere. K'del's nod suggests, without promising, that certainly, such a thing is possible. The corners of his mouth twitch up after that, though, a smile returning: "Appreciate it, Tayte. Not sure that there is anything, but it's good to know, all the same. And Vali... don't hesitate in asking me for things, okay? Just because I'm busy? Never too busy for her." "Well, you know, I can always pretend to be Weyrleader for the day, if you need a substitute. I don't think anyone will notice that I'm not a strapping man and happen to lack a dragon, do you?" Tayte reaches out a hand now with the intent to ruffle K'del's lighter blonde locks in a way that's affectionate. Her smile is warm, and touchy though the gesture might be, there's no indication that it's anything more than just what it is. "Now that you mention it, Vali has been talking about getting to see her sister again. So if you and Ali are feeling up for having her by with you on one of your trips, that would be nice. But if not, don't feel like you have to. I know babies take a lot of energy. And so do five turn olds." More when they're both in a room together. K'del laughs, genuinely, clearly tickled by the idea of Tayte as Weyrleader-for-a-day; the glance he gives her, as she ruffles his hair, is openly affectionate in return. "Sure," he says, instantly. "I'll set something up and bring her over. What's the point of being a big sister if you don't even get to see your sister, right?" He'd say more, but he yawns, making a face as he attempts to cover his mouth. "Well, there are advantages to not seeing one's sister." Jeyli must have visited recently, judging from the way Tayte says that. And it must have been less than perfect because her nose wrinkles. "But at that age, I imagine you're right. I never knew any of mine so young." Because being fostered... well, they were all a little older when they arrived. "I'm sure she'd like it," is the ultimate conclusion. There's a smile for the yawn, "You should go get your beauty rest, Weyrleader. Can't have you too tired to flash your charming smile tomorrow. Might be the fate of the Weyr will depend on it." In times gone by, she'd probably just have walked him to her bed, and they'd've laid down and just snuggled and slept. It would've been a nice way to end the evening of stolen time. But those times are in the past, so Tayte simply rises, holding a hand down to help him up. The first step in sending him on his way. K'del's expression is briefly sympathetic for what was obviously a less-than-perfect sisterly visit, but as far as Iska and Vali are concerned, he's distinctly more positive. "I'll set something up," he repeats, this time with the air of a promise to it, albeit one that is a little distracted, given the second yawn that follows the first. He accepts Tayte's hand, sighing as he does so: "One day, I'm not going to be exhausted, you know? Iska seems to prefer sleeping during the day; night time is for waking." But he can't help but smile, even so. "Thanks for the company. Tell Vali 'hi' for me?" "Just one more delusion." Tayte clucks, but it's with affectionate sympathy. She pulls his hand so his arm comes around her shoulders and she wraps one of her arms around his waist as she leads them toward the door. It's sort of a hug. She'll even stop to give him a proper one before she picks his jacket up and holds it up for him to shrug into. "You know you're always welcome, schedules permitting. But I'm sorry, I can't tell Vali you said hi. That would be admitting that I got to play with Daddy sometime that she didn't. And that is our biggest secret." This too has light-hearted teasing and affection. Because, of course, she'll give their daughter his love. Even if she catches hell for having gotten him all to herself. It's a good kind of sort of hug, though the real one that follows is clearly better still. K'del squeezes Tayte gently, lets go in good time, and lets her put help him back into his jacket without comment. "I'll tell her you're holding out on her," he teases, but it's a fond thing, light-hearted and warm. Soon after, he's back out into the dark, but still relatively warm, evening. |
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