Logs:Advice
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| RL Date: 25 March, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, K'zin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin drops in with questions. K'del answers, as best he can. |
| Where: Lights in Darkness Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 5, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Jo/Mentions, N'thei/Mentions, Satiet/Mentions |
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| Lights in Darkness Weyr, High Reaches Weyr A heavy, brocade curtain separates the ledge from the weyr within, which opens up into a long, wide wallow and a walkway beside it. There's easily enough room for a bronze in here; the ceiling is high enough that sound tends to echo. Down the wall beside the walkway, small circles appear to float within the dim light like miniature moons; a high panel of them that's perhaps four or five times as long as a man is tall. They end abruptly as the wall curves around and opens out into the rest of the weyr. It's a good sized weyr, and laid out nicely with a fine collection of solid, expensive furniture. A niche off to one side offers built-in shelving and a desk set out beneath it, while much of the rest of the space has been taken up by a couch and several chairs, laid out in front of the hearth. It's reflective, that hearth, made up of squares tiled on point, many of which look very new indeed. To one side of that is a dark opening that might be another niche, or perhaps a passageway. A tunnel leads off from that dark opening - narrow, if still tall. It turns a corner and then opens out into an expansive room set against the other side of the hearth. Most of /this/ space is taken up by a bed that has clearly been made to fit the space exactly, although there's still room to step around to another niche - this one with a plugged basin above and a drain below. There are more of those moons here, too: moons that glow with light from the room beyond. It's late. Too late for decent company to be arriving. That leaves only two types of company that could be alighting on Cadejoth's ledge. There's the indecent and exciting, or the indecently young and naive. It's the latter. The quiet and serene mindtouch of Kalamoth, a green only a few turns old herself, fluttered against Cadejoth's mind until she was able to inform the bronze of incoming visitors, that he might rouse his mate, should he already be abed. Kalamoth comes and goes swiftly and silently, a shadow in the night. The only evidence of her trespass is one awkward-looking weyrling, with red hat, scarf, and mittens firmly in place along with long charcoal coat. It's chilly at this hour. He lingers not far from the edge of the ledge, looking back down at the bowl. Could it be this is his first look from above? Luckily for everyone, that first kind of company is not already in residence-- that would be awkward. Instead, Cadejoth's ledge is empty, and still, though the bronze is quick to acknowledge Kalamoth's touch. His thoughts are of distant horizons, and the joy of late-night flight in clear skies, but his assurances that his rider is available to visitors are nonetheless quick in coming. K'del is dressed down when he steps out onto the ledge, his coat thrown hastily over light trousers, his boots still unlaced. "K'zin?" says K'del, making no attempt to hide his surprise. He lingers near the weyr's entrance, watching, and adds, then, "Nice view, isn't it? From up here." K'zin's attention pulls away from the view at the sound of his name, though he doesn't move from where he stands, "Yeah. Sorry. Is it too late? Maybe Kalamoth could come back and take me back down..." His manner is that of one unfamiliar with breaking rules or disobeying directives, but is doing so. He's coltish in his hesitance. "He-" Rasavyth, "-sleeps deeper now, at night. I thought I could probably get away with coming to talk. If-" He looks away from the older man and back to the bowl, and back again, "If the offer still stands?" He looks back to the bowl and simply nods his agreement of the beauty of the view. "I've never been up to a weyr before. Only ever seen the ones attached to the ground." "Of course it still stands," says K'del, promptly, though he's already had time to lift a hand to try and forestall the weyrling's hesitance and uncertainty. "No, it's fine. I'm up and about still, as you see. And if you need to wait until he's sleeping-- it's fine." He takes a step forward, now, moving carefully so as not to trip over the dangling laces of his boots; his hands seek out the depths of his pockets. "The ones on the ground are fancier, generally, but the views are better from up here. Want to come in? There's a fire going; it's warmer." K'zin turns now to face K'del properly, mittened hands clasping in front of him. "It's not that I couldn't talk while he's awake, it's just that if I talk while he's awake I have to watch what I say pretty carefully, if it's about him, and I have a running commentary that jumbles up my own thoughts. Sometimes I have trouble figuring out which are mine and which his." At least that's something of a positive sign for how deeply the two have bonded. The weyrling takes the steps needed to arrive at K'del's side. "I'd love to get warmer," He nods to the invitation. "At least this way, he can only be mad about whatever I might say that he might not like in the morning." Better to apologize than ask permission? That's not an attitude consistent with his behavior Before Rasavyth (B.R.). K'del listens, head tipped to one side, as K'zin explains. His nod is the only immediate answer, made as he turns on his heel to head back into the weyr, down the passage past Cadejoth's couch, and into the warmer, relatively well-lit living area. The fire burns steadily at the hearth, and K'del waves a hand towards the seating area in front of it, as he says, finally, "Sounds like your relationship is absolutely nothing like Cadejoth's and mine was. Is, I guess. Both complicated, but definitely differently so. Cadejoth was... surprised by Rasavyth's, uh, intensity, I guess? I think." K'zin paces K'del, a step or two behind the man into the weyr, brown gaze bouncing to take in the unfamiliar surroundings. "Intense is a good way to describe him." The weyrling's brows knit thoughtfully as he moves to claim a seat for himself. He chews on his lower lip a bit, "What was it like for you and Cadejoth? I can't shake the feeling that what I'm experiencing with R-- with him isn't exactly normal. He's not a baby like the others. He needs me, but not in almost any of the same ways as the others. He's like-- a little adult just waiting for his body to catch up." He frowns slightly, though it's clear that it's confusion birthing the frown, not sadness. K'del takes a seat opposite K'zin, pressing the palms of his hands into his knees as he leans back into the chair. He kicks off his boots, too, but not yet his coat, though it's certainly warmer in here than it was outside. "You've seen what Cadejoth's like. He's... he was childlike and enthusiastic, always on the go, and simply didn't understand that there might be other things I wanted to do, things that didn't involve him. But that's... rather the opposite to your problem, it seems. It does happen, though. Dragons like Rasavyth. And... you have to be careful. Just because they seem like adults doesn't mean they are." K'zin's face reddens abruptly. "Yeah. I've been learning that the hard way." He doesn't immediately elaborate. His elbows settle on his knees, his posture turning the opposite of K'del's as he leans forward to put his head into his hands, eyes finding the floor. "I think I'd like that better. I think that's what I expected. To be grateful to have time for myself. Instead, I have more time for myself than I know what to do with. He likes to be on his own. And he's the one explaining to me that there are things he wants to do that don't involve me. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if I'd thought to expect that. But everyone's stories-- well, they all seem to have baby dragons who are so much in love with them that they never want to part. And he loves me, very much, I know, and I don't doubt that, it's just that he loves me differently than I thought a dragon would love." Though perhaps now he has a better idea of how silly it is to think to know what love is and how it is before it is felt. K'del's lengthy exhale has a whistle to it, as if even now he's surprised by the extent of what K'zin is relating. "That sounds..." He breaks off, evidently failing to come up with an appropriate descriptor. Eyes lingering on the weyrling's lowered head, his expression is nothing but sympathetic. "Sometimes it seems like they just live to surprise he," he says, finally. "Cadejoth was nothing like what I expected, Rasavyth is nothing like what you expected. Pretty sure every person I can think of who had some expectations of what things would be like ended up surprised. Know there are always those few who do just fine, roll with the punches, but... Not sure if there's really any way to prepare people for it. How can you prepare for something that unpredictable?" K'zin's posture shifts slightly, head rolling to the side putting it's weight fully on his right hand while the left drops to rest in the crook of the opposite arm. "I guess you really can't. I used to not plan, and then I figured out that I wanted to Impress, and then I started to plan, and I'm thinking that maybe where I went wrong was starting to plan again. Maybe I'd be better off not planning, again. Seems like he does enough of that for both of us." He sighs lightly and then straightens up. "K'del, I need Cadejoth's help. And yours. He's so smart, and he has so much potential for-- well, anything he puts his mind to, but I'm worried that -- see, he's stronger than I am. As a person. He knows who he is. And I'm still-- well, a little lost. I'm worried that I can't give him the right-- internal compass? The right direction? I was hoping Cadejoth could help. He looks up to him." It doesn't need to be said, but the 'as I do to you' is written clearly on the young man's face. "Some planning doesn't hurt," says K'del, firmly. "Though it's probably an important lesson, the one where you understand that planning doesn't necessarily work. Shells, as if I'd've planned my life out the way it has happened-- there's just no way." That's an aside, and one he abandons in order to return to the real issue at hand. He meets K'zin's gaze square, one hand twitching on his knee as though he'd like to reach out and do-- something. He doesn't, though: he presses it flat once more, forcibly, and says, "We'll do everything we can to help, I promise. Whatever you need." "Thank you." The words come slowly, simply, and sincerely. He takes a deep breath and then K'zin is leaning forward again, elbows back on his knees, but hands clasped together out in front of him this time, eyes on K'del. "Are you doing alright? Since Brie-I mean, Aishani revealed herself? I wanted to come-- to ask-- to see if there were anything I could do or -- if there was anything that needed to be done even." He stops his rambling offer and closes his eyes briefly. "It can't be easy..." That question was inevitable, really, and yet it leaves K'del in a peculiar position: his lips just slightly parted, his brows just slightly drawn together. Not a happy expression, but equally not deeply disturbed. "There's nothing you can do," he answers, after a space of several seconds, during which time he seems to be drawing his own thoughts together. "Though I appreciate the thought. It-- the Vijays were before you arrived here, I think. Turns before. It brings back some old memories. I was younger than you are now. No, it's not easy. And your allegiance and support will help, in time. Azaylia and I won't let anything happen to High Reaches, that much I can promise." K'zin's head bobs. "They were. By a few turns, the way I hear it. It sounds like a rough-- thing to live through. To be a part of." He frowns, eyes examining the floor once more. His fingers steeple together and then spread, tips touching. He taps them gently together, and then looks up at the bronzerider. "Here's the thing, K'del." He begins, expression serious and intense. "I care about you. And I care about Azaylia. I know I'm just a weyrling, and I promise you I'm putting all the focus that I can into training and learning with my lifemate, but I care-- we care what's going on with you both. We trust you." As he starts communicating the we, the confidence in his voice intensifies, and his tone becomes resolute. "I don't ever mean to pry or be a bother to either of you. But we're going to be there for both of you. Whatever you need." Whether you like it or not. K'del's answer is quiet. "It was. No doubt it was difficult for a small child to go through, too," and now, it does rather seem as though he's talking about Aishani. "But I stand by the decisions we made at the time." His chin lifts just slightly as he acknowledges K'zin's words of support; his own expression is serious and intense, too, and abruptly authoritative. "We both-- we all appreciate that. Think I can speak for all of us when I say that. Right now, the most important thing is just that: keep working hard. But your support, however quiet, counts. It all does." "She must have been very young." K'zin's baritone is hushed, though the sound carries in the weyr. He looks momentarily pained, concern showing for the one who was Brieli. He gives a little nod to acknowledge the acknowledgement. He might leave it there. Perhaps he should but after sucking in a breath and letting it out, he looks up to K'del, "I think that-- I think I could be more useful as someone to listen and be supportive if I understood the situation a little better. I don't want to bring up painful memories, but could you-- would you tell me more about what happened? The gossip is-- scattered." "Is it?" K'del's tone is dry, and maybe there's a hint of bitterness to it, as if he expects more of people: expects for people to remember details, expects them to relate them, outright and truthful. He exhales, resting his neck against the back of the chair behind him, his eyes fluttering closed as he works the thoughts through in his head (presumably). "It all started before I was at the Weyr, even. Some kind of deal made between the Vijays and then-Weyrleader N'thei. Only it turns out they weren't just using our caverns for storage: they were using them to store stolen goods. They framed one of their own for it, and disappeared, until after Satiet died and it was-- well. Me and Tiriana. Not exactly the strongest, most united leadership front. That autumn, they raided the tithes, one caravan after another. Kidnapped a kid. We planted some riders to try and catch them, ended up with a prisoner. They threatened us, to get him back. And... so we raided them back. Captured their leaders, mostly. Sent most of them to the mines, and executed Rajiv. It was revenge, for him, because we'd stopped them the first time. We had to make a statement: don't screw with us." But there's an uncertain note at the end there, as though even now he's not actually sure that execution really was the answer. K'zin's attention is absolute. His gaze rests intensely upon K'del's face as the man relates the history. So brief it could easily be missed, there's a strange something to the look of the lad's features that make him seem older, smarter, slyer for half a breath, and it's gone. If seen, it might be the hint that the bronze weyrling is no longer K'del's only audience. K'zin's expression remains otherwise solemn, brows slightly furrowed in pensiveness. "Rajiv was Br- Aishani's father?" He pauses. "What do you think Aishani wants out of all of this?" K'del doesn't see it: indeed, he doesn't see much of anything, for though his eyes have opened again, they're staring resolutely towards the distant wall, as if that makes it easier to talk about these things. "Yes," he confirms. "That's what she says. Can only assume she's telling the truth on that front. Thing that bothers me? Say what you like about us hanging someone, but even if we'd just sent him to the mines, she'd still've lost him. He caused all of this, not us. I-- don't know what she wants. Revenge, one assumes. Haven't talked to her. Ought to, probably, but--" He shrugs, blue eyes seeking out K'zin's face once more. Ought to, but hasn't. K'zin's brown eyes meet K'del's, and his expression is unreadable for a moment. "It sounds to me that you made the right decision." This sentence comes slowly. "Death... is not something that can be taken back, but sometimes the hard choice is the right one. Can't let the Weyr get hurt that way." He sits back in the seat, one hand rising to finally remove his hat, mittens following, now that he's warmed up a bit. "Tell me more about the Vijays? I hear the weyrlingmasters are going to test us on history, and I'm-- I'm going to fail it." This is not a statement of doubt, it's simply a statement of something certain to come. "What would he have done, if he'd had the opportunity to come at us a third time," says K'del, whose careful tone keeps those words from forming a question. "Instead, we get his daughter. Always vengeance. How dare we protect what is ours." K'zin's support doesn't seem to ease the troubled line of his shoulders, or his expression, but he nods nonetheless, just once. "Never really knew any of them personally-- you'd want people who were here in Turn 16, for that. No idea what they did between then and when they showed up again, in Turn 19. No idea what the rest of them did, afterwards. Shady lot, though. Scapegoated one of their own, did whatever they needed to. There's no shame in needing extra classes in history, though. Lots of people do." It's clear from K'zin's uneasy shifting in the seat that the idea of a group of people who would turn on their own does not sit well with him. "Who were the riders that stood with Aishani-" He manages to get the name right on the first try this time. "-at the Hatching Feast? When she made her announcement." He chews his lower lip, "I'm hoping Rasavyth's attention to detail will come in handy for me in learning the history." K'del seems uncomfortable, too, but in a different way: his thoughts are obviously going in other directions, caught up in past events that, for now, he doesn't seem to intend to relate. "Jo," he says, promptly. "Didn't really see more than that. It kind of came out of nowhere, really, and then I... left, right after. Just couldn't stay." whether he's comfortable with having done that, now, or not... it's harder to tell. "Sounds like it could help, anyway. Rasavyth. Better than Cadejoth, who couldn't understand the need for things in books. Poor Cadejoth." "I don't think I've really met Jo." K'zin, or perhaps Rasavyth for him, files the name away for future reference. "You did what you needed to do. No one can fault you for that." Or at least K'zin won't. "K'del, it seems like... like some of the cards you've been dealt haven't been fair. In life, I mean." He swallows hard, "Maybe things will get easier though." A hand goes through his hair. "Maybe sometime, you know, once Ras can fly and all that, maybe we can get away. Maybe do some fishing? I've never fished before. But I'm told it's a good way to relax." A low, wry chuckle escapes K'del before he can stop himself; he looks apologetic. "We all get-- well. We'll see. Won't deny it's been a shitty few turns, between one thing and another. Fishing sounds good. Know a few spots. It was the kind of thing I did as a kid, sometimes." He stretches, now, letting his long legs extend out into the open space between them, though his gaze draws away from the young man and towards the entrance. "We'll do that. Right now, though, ought to probably get you safely back down to the ground before one of your Weyrlingmasters decides to punish me. Cadejoth's back; he can take you down." "We could take your sons with us." K'zin suggests. "I have a little brother. I think I can remember how to be properly obnoxious enough to be entertaining. Somehow kids being around-- well, it sort of makes a person a little hopeful, doesn't it?" Or at least it does him. "Their cards are still being dealt. Not near as complicated as looking at your own hand." All those card metaphors, maybe they ought to go to Bitra instead. "Yeah. Ras woke up a bit ago. He says he's starting to get peckish." That's probably a quote, since K'zin would probably just declare it starving as the lad only ever seems to be stuffed or starving judging from his usual portion sizes. "I'd certainly appreciate the ride. Please thank Cadejoth for me." He pushes himself up onto his feet. "And thanks, K'del. This helped." This time, K'del's laugh is more genuine - and his nod seems to suggest that he agrees with what K'zin has to say, by and large. "There's that. Kids-- well. It's just different. You'd definitely better go and tend to Rasavyth, then. Cadejoth says it's his pleasure, anyway. You can see yourself out?" It's cold out there, and K'del is... well. Lazy, maybe. "Glad it did. Any time, okay? Anytime you need me." K'zin nods. "I will. Thanks." It's a simple enough response that seems to answer everything and nothing in particular all at once. The knit red cap is donned and the mittens. "Same goes for me. You know. Any time. For any reason." This is delivered simply. It's nothing K'del doesn't already know. The weyrling's strides are quick, and he meets Cadejoth on the ledge. |
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