Logs:Not Strong Enough
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| RL Date: 19 June, 2015 |
| Who: Nala, M'vyn, Jynth, Elsyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Nala briefly leaves a sleeping Aislara in the infirmary and tries not to self-destruct. |
| Where: Cosy For Keeps Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 1, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aislara/Mentions, Nalyn/Mentions, Grace/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Mentions of miscarriage. Angst. Sex. |
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| It's getting on for evening when Jynth simply appears on Elsyth's ledge without warning or enquiry, his burden of shivering rider flown up to the green's ledge without straps. Nala is fresh from the baths, her hair at the very beginnings of drying, strands curling every which way, untamed, and if she's wearing anything but a towel beneath her thigh-length jacket, it must be rather short, for nothing is visible below the jacket's hem, nor at its collar. She just stands there, trembling and leaning against Jynth once she's slowly slid down from her perch, and while she surely - would usually - eventually move, even the winter weather doesn't move her, and so her blue is forced to ask, « Can he come and get her? » of Elsyth. Elsyth is within, curled into a wallow that once supported two dragons' and now is full of randomly acquired blankets, pillows, and the occasional stuffed animal from the children. She rouses at Jynth's arrival, a flare of annoyance there and then rescinded once she gets that question. He may not give her any reason for his arrival, or lack of permission, and where she normally would blast him for the transgression she withholds from it now. « He comes. » A politer dragon would offer Jynth a place outside of the cold but that is too far for the green. M'vyn doesn't take long to head to the ledge, concern drawing his brows down and leaving a severe frown on his face. "What is going on?" he demands, pausing long enough to get a good look at Nala before his hands reach out to grasp her elbow and lead her inside. Inside, he takes her to the couch and leaves her there to go and make the fire larger. He doesn't ask any further questions as he waits for his first demand to be answered. The children are noticeably absent. Nala stares blankly for a while, but allows herself to be guided once her feet realise that that they can move, and though Jynth might usually vacate the ledge, today he stays; he even sprawls, tired muscles demanding to have tension and pressure eased. "...I can't," the bluerider utters, as she slumps to sit on the couch, her jacket slipping open to reveal, yes, just a towel. "I do not know how she has survived this again and again and again... I cannot watch her. I will. I have to. ...I could not even get out of bed when I lost our--" She ducks her head and stares down at her knees. "Baby." It's a jumbled explanation, but it seems the best that she can do. "...I don't want to remember it. I'm awful. I am hurting for her, but hurting for me too." M'vyn has turned to face Nala as the explanation comes. His arms are folded in front of him as his face darkens for a moment and then is schooled into neutrality. The fire crackling behind him draws him out from standing and doing nothing. He lowers once more to scoot a log back and adds on one more before he rises and heads toward the couch. He perches on the arm of the couch, not certain closeness may be the best move at this time. "You come first," he allows, "and if it is hurting you with your - with our - loss, you did right in coming here." His jaw tightens a few times as he opens and closes his fists against his leg. "If it keeps happening.. why does she keep trying?" he asks, working around his discomfort in discussing the other greenrider. "She strikes me as a smart enough woman. I don't understand it." He slides down closer to her now, moving to rest a hand on her knee. "It's not my place to understand it either." "...I don't know," Nala murmurs, curling in on herself all the more. "...For turns, I desperately wanted Nalyn back. Perhaps it is the same kind of longing and yearning." Closing her eyes has the opposite effect than that desired, for it allows her tears to slip free. "It is ridiculous. I did not even know. I even thought that the reason everything stopped was because I Impressed a boy and had to be less of a woman now." She takes a deep breath and straightens. "I am a fool. And I am not strong enough." M'vyn sits there and offers nothing but his silence as he listens to Nala. His eyes are fixated on the fire as he watches the flickering flames. His hand remains on her knee throughout her explanation. "You are neither of those things and you know it. It would be easy for me to say Aislara is the fool and she certainly may have strength to keep trying but," he pauses, looking to Nala finally, "At what expense?" He frowns and then, as if just noticing her towel-draped form, he rises and heads to collect one of his shirts for her. He returns and offers it to her and then pauses. "Do you want whiskey?" "I am," Nala insists, blinking her eyes wide like she could make herself acknowledge it all the better by staring at the world through wider eyes. "...I want to run away," she murmurs. "I will not. But I want to." She lets her jacket peel away from her shoulders and reaches without comment to accept the offered shirt, letting the towel slip down around her waist as she simply drapes the shirt over her, without bothering with buttons. "No," she decides, somewhat abrupt in her refusal of the drink, and to the point with what she wants instead. "I want you." M'vyn is not the type of person to encourage Nala to stay and he does not hesitate in telling her, "Then leave her. Stay with me. And the children." He doesn't press the issue nor does he seem inclined to speak on it further outside of that. He stares at her with an intensity behind his gaze that signals his darker side, the one that has been quietly subdued for some time now, and he reaches his hand out to take hers. "Then come. Have me." He waits until she is standing before he tugs her closer, hands moving to grab her hips and pull her against him. "You should remember that you're mine." And then his lips seek hers. A strangled kind of half-sound rises from somewhere deep within Nala, the noise rich with self-loathing, and while she meets M'vyn's gaze without hesitation, the desperation in her dark eyes on the cusp of being a yes, she doesn't let the word free, and nor does she permit herself any other indication of doubt. Instead, she channels that desperation into grasping his hand too tight as she rises and sinking the nails of one hand through fabric to press in a shallow crescent just shy of his spine. There's no resistance to his grip at her hips; no argument about who she belongs to. Not now, anyway. "Yes." Yes, she's his; yes, she should remember. She's too willing, too submissive, pressing close as his lips claim hers. M'vyn had every intention of taking her to the bed, of taking his time, of not allowing something else to take place between the claim of a kiss. He makes a guttural noise at her submissiveness, her willingness enough of an answer more than any 'yes'. He pulls Nala ever closer, his hands claiming more than her hips as they make a firm, quick, assessment of every aspect he can touch. He holds her against him as his hands travel lower, seeking to give her a tease at a release, before he moves to settle her back on the couch and remove his own clothes. When he returns to her, it is much of the same teasing and kissing as his hands and lips make their own marks on her skin. He nips at her neck briefly before he moves to find his own release. She's pliant in this instance, Nala's nails the only sharpness to her, her caresses encouraging, yet not enough to make demands of her own, too willing to be whatever M'vyn wants her to be; to not have to think. It doesn't matter that they don't find the bed, or that he her leaves her with a set of marks that will inevitably darken and could be found by someone else, who might need her more. She answers his teasing with quiet pleas that only occasionally turn into proper words and outright begging that she sounds absolutely unashamed of in the moment, though whether she pleads solely for her own needs or to also be what he seems to wish matters little enough in the end. She is his - it can't be denied - and if she wants him to find pleasure with her, maybe it's not entirely selfless. The history between them has always been a driving force for M'vyn. Now that Nala is so pliant and willing beneath him he's driven by a ghost of another time that leads into the end of their love-making. Hidden rooms, stolen glances, and that assurance that she was only his drive his hands, his body, and his lips to leave those marks that tell the tale he would not be able to say aloud. His. Always his. He finishes with a shiver and her name whispered into her ear, "My Nala." He doesn't immediately release her from beneath him, even now finding his body over hers a claim. When he does move, it's with the slow ease of one sated and content. He shifts upwards, heaves himself up to reclaim his pants and then moves to grab them each a glass of whiskey. He returns with her glass and offers it before he moves to settle himself down on the ground near the fire. He watches the flames flicker as he silently sips the whiskey. There's no need for words, not at this moment, and he won't know how to break the silence so he keeps it. She lets him. It's that simple. She could stop him, pin him, make him plead for her, but the girl of then didn't and the woman of now doesn't. If she cries a little louder for those marks, maybe it's as much to do with wanting the pain as much as the evidence wherever he wants it to lie, to temporarily add shadows to contrast the silver of the pale scars earned since he was the first to unravel her completely. Even after, she gives no indication that he should move, or that she wants him to, yet she doesn't protest his leaving her on the couch as she has before, and lies there just as he's left her while he half-dresses and finds the whiskey, which she accepts in place of him, for the moment. When she does, eventually, gather herself, she tugs his shirt back around her and silently pads through to the bedroom, bringing a fur and blankets back with her as if they're hers to do with as she pleases. The fur, she drops at his feet, while one of the blankets already finds its way around her, and then she curls up atop the fur, still at his feet, as close to the fire as sense allows. M'vyn shifts enough to settle onto the fur, moving closer to Nala so that she might curl up as she chooses to do. He lifts a hand to let his fingers play through her hair, a gentle finger-combing that trails down along her cheek and pauses to rest on her lips for a moment. His eyes are clear and focused as he stares at her, a thousand questions silenced behind a final gulp of the whiskey. The empty glass is set aside and he turns, looking at the flames once more. His hand drops back to the fur as he eases back with his arms for support. "Why?" he asks, not looking at her so that his expression may not taint his civil tone. "Why do you stay with her?" He looks to his empty glass of whiskey and sighs, wanting more by the gaze he directs at the cabinet where he keeps it. "Needing others.., I suppose I finally understand that where I didn't before. But you don't need to, not in the way you do. We could.. try again." It's another dangled attempt to keep her. He keeps his eyes locked on the crackling fire as the light and heat lead to the flush in his cheeks. Why? The answer is almost immediate, soft as it is, Nala's gaze unflinching from his even as he looks towards the flames. "She needs me." It can't be the only reason, but other words - others that might have them flinch from each and part ways angry - she doesn't share or seek to make that cut and twist the knife. "It is not about a physical... drive," she allows instead. "I don't look at other women - or men other than you - and actively think that I want them. It is not something I... think about." And dragonlust has much to answer for. "...Elsyth cannot bear Jynth. It was different when they were young. They could not live together now." She reaches for M'vyn, palm splaying against his chest before she tries to draw him down close enough to near kiss as she murmurs, "You are my husband. But what happens when you cannot stand me again, as she hates him? What if I run and never come back? If you want another child?" M'vyn mutters around a sigh, "Needs you, of course." He seems to be prepared to avoid the rest of the conversation as well for he does not press the issue. It is better to have Nala's presence now than watch her go. He turns to her then, nodding his acceptance of the facts. "Elsyth, well. When we finally shared as most share, she took on qualities I could not keep back. It was that or stay forever distant from her." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, momentarily allowing a flash of sadness to work its way across his features. "It was easier for her when she was younger in many ways." He is easily drawn down to that near-kiss and after her questions he tips forward enough to claim her lips with a softness and shortness that doesn't lead to anything else. Not yet. "I couldn't stand myself, Nala," he tells her, shrugging again as he moves to lay back on the fur. He pillows his head in his hands as he looks up at the ceiling. "I want many children but the two we have is enough. I wouldn't force you to carry another." "...If she despises him so, I cannot have him upset and on edge forever," Nala says softly, turning to fit herself along his side, close without holding. "Out in the cold in more ways than one." The flick of her fingers is towards the ledge, where Jynth still sprawls, almost asleep despite the winter temperatures. "But I would not have you be distant from her for anything. Even if she does not care for me as I thought she once did." She ducks her head down to press her face in against M'vyn's ribs. "...I think that, if I had another child, you would have three children and not me." Yet that brings her round in a cycle, the fact that they would have three children, if not for... And so she curls up more tightly, closing in on herself again. It's an odd thing to cling to and say in such a moment, but perhaps it's all that she can cling to when she reminds him, "I want a wedding band." M'vyn holds her as she tightens around him, unable to fully grasp the same sense of loss Nala feels for that third child they hadn't gotten to know. He doesn't want to talk of Elsyth either - yet a change is made. Elsyth's voice is muted, the silent battle waged against her rider lost in a swift finality. « It is cold. You may come inside. There is room. » Room, so long as he doesn't try and touch her. The green slivers to the furthest reach of her wallow and conceals her face with her wing. "I'll work on it," M'vyn informs Nala after his long stretch of silence. "I can't make promises, but I can make her behave. I've indulged her behavior too long." He brushes his fingers down along her back, "If it means you'll spend more time with me and less with others...," he trails off and leaves that there. "I will get one made," he tells her, "but until then I will continue to mark you in other ways." He lowers his mouth towards her shoulder to playfully nip. His hands roam further. "Shall we distract ourselves again?" Jynth starts when Elsyth's voice finds him, startled from near sleep, and though it takes him a moment or more to find alertness or be sure that he's not imagined the invitation, he carefully makes his way inside and presses himself into the opposite curve of the wallow, where he doesn't find sleep, but lies there, alert and just a little wary. Too wary to even offer thanks, like he could jinx it all. His rider is far more relaxed, and when M'vyn nips at her shoulder, she makes to tangle and twist one hand into his hair, to try and keep lips and teeth against her skin after he speaks, her low plea still not quite a demand when she asks, "Harder," and arches against him, still content to remain beneath him and be taken as he wishes, just as long as she doesn't have to think about anything beyond his having her. Sooner or later, she'll have to leave and return to the baths and the Infirmary, but not without the marks to reminder her of where she's spent the brief reprieve she's allowed herself. Elsyth is satisfied with Jynth's wariness and chooses to ignore him entirely once he's settled inside. He made a good choice in his approach. The green gives him the vaguest sense of acceptance before she cuts off all communication. She lets sleep claim her as her rider claims Jynth's. M'vyn places that harder mark, letting this time be much of the same. M'vyn does not ask her to stay longer than Nala chooses to, hoping that his actions have begun something that his words never could solve. If Elsyth reaches towards Jynth in the coming days to request their presence, she is civil in her approach, and when they visit M'vyn ensures her placidity. |
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