Logs:Not That I Think You're Crazy
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| RL Date: 20 March, 2011 |
| Who: Jessek, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and Jessek talk things out. |
| Where: K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 3, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Milani/Mentions, Warucori/Mentions |
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| K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Rank certainly has its privileges, and among them are amply appointed apartments. The short flight of stairs from the Weyrleader's Complex opens up into the larger of two chambers, formally decorated and clearly designed to cater as much to important guests as the occupant's personal living. Old, but obviously expensive, llama wool rugs dyed blue-and-black cover the stone floor, leading towards the second chamber, the stairs, and the rush-filled dragon couch and ledge beyond it. A formal seating arrangement - a sofa and chairs, all blue-and-black - sits around a large, tiled fireplace, whilst along the other wall, a finely made, if now somewhat antique, desk sits between a bookshelf and a tall cupboard to which tack-hooks have been attached, riding gear arranged neatly inside. Two tapestries hung from the high walls depict overdone splendour for High Reaches Weyr, one a long view of the snow-covered bowl, and the other a hazy impressionist piece of dragons flaming over a springtime countryside. The inner weyr, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area, is smaller and cosier and distinctly less ostentatious. An oversized wooden sleigh bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows and comforter, their covers dyed in varying shades of navy blue, light blue and bronze. There's a nightstand on either side, both with reading lamps, and against one of the other walls, a tall, heavy wardrobe made from a dark wood that matches the bed. The bathing area is part of the same cavern, a folding screen shielding the toilet and slightly raised, double-sized bathtub built into the stone, and a small shelf holding toiletries, shaving equipment, and clean towels. It's warm and dry, in the Weyrleader's fire, a merry fire burning at the hearth, apparently recently stoked. K'del waits for his visitor not far from there, prodding at the great logs every so often, and keeping an eye on a kettle he's hung above it. There are two mugs on the floor beside him, a tin of klah beside these. Otherwise, it's quiet in the weyr: waiting. Waiting. Jessek climbs the stairs very, very slowly. He did not waste much time bathing, but the approaching scuff of his boots hints strongly at his reluctance. Despite the refresher, when he finally appears, his face is as pale as it is able to be, and his hands tremble so much that he stuffs them into his pockets. He's managed to find another sweater, as well, one not covered in hay and puke. He stops in the doorway to take in the room, lips tightly compressed. Alerted by the sound of those boots against the stone floor, K'del looks up as the younger man enters, and watches him silently for a moment. Then, inviting him further in with the tip of his head, he says, "I'm making klah. Do you want some?" And also, as he turns back to his fire tending, without waiting to see whether Jessek complies, "Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable." Jessek swallows dryly as he moves further in, making his way to one of the chairs near the fireplace. "Klah would be good, thank you." He sinks down, eyes settling on one of the hanging tapestries. He stares at the one depicting the bowl in winter, hands now clasped in his lap. "They don't treat their Weyrleaders half bad, do they?" he asks in a soft voice, cocking a brow, though he still avoids looking at the other man except from the corner of one eye. There's amusement in K'del's voice as he says, "Well. There have to be /some/ perks to the job. This weyr? Definitely one of them." He rests back on his feet, giving the kettle an experimental prod: no, not boiling yet. Alas. Instead, he turns his head so that he can look at Jessek again, and this time, his eyebrows raise. "Want to tell me what's going on, that's making you drink yourself into oblivion in the hayloft?" Jessek flinches. "Not really," he confesses, managing a weak smile. "I just..was thinking about something. Something that makes me want to drink. It makes me feel better." He looks down at his hands, at the callused knuckles. He turns them so that he can look at his palms and their emptiness. "It really wasn't the blue rider's fault. I didn't mean to go off, I just...she's a woman." He rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. "She wouldn't have understood. I just wanted her to go away." Jessek flinches. "Not really," he confesses, managing a weak smile. "I just..was thinking about something. Something that makes me want to drink. It makes me feel better." He looks down at his hands, at the callused knuckles. He turns them so that he can look at his palms and their emptiness. "It really wasn't the blue rider's fault. I didn't mean to go off, I just...she's a woman." He rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. "She wouldn't have understood. I just wanted her to go away." It's K'del's turn to flinch, as Jessek says 'woman'; his expression turns stony. "You really can't think about women that way around here, Jessek. Don't know what your experiences have been, but shells. Around here? The Weyrwoman is the ultimate boss. And for good reason. Women have minds that are just as good as ours - I can promise you that." There's restrained passion in his voice as he says this, tipping his head forward for emphasis. Jessek looks up very slowly, his elbows still at his knees, though he at least straightens up in his chair. Leans back against it, and asks a question: "What would you do if you found out that girl of yours...what was her name? Milani? What would you do if you found out she's sleeping with another man?" "Milani," confirms K'del, before attacking the rest of the question. He shakes his head, shifting his position so that he can attend to the kettle - which /is/ boiling, now - and make the klah. "Milani has a daughter with another man. And yes, from while we were together. But it's not like that for us: we've never been exclusive. If we were..." He pauses, thinking for a moment, then shakes his head. "Won't deny it'd hurt. Won't deny that it /did/ hurt, a little, when Millie got pregnant to K'ndro instead. But even if... the actions of one woman don't dismiss all women. There are plenty of men who sleep around on their women, too." Perhaps this wasn't the response he expected. Jessek frowns, gesturing sharply with one hand. "How can you stand to touch her?" he asks, with the need in his voice of someone who truly needs to hear an answer. "I just don't understand you Weyrfolk. It's like all of you have children with someone else, and not a sharding one cares if their loved one goes off with someone else! When that.." He stops himself, looking away again. "I'd heard rumors. But I just...had to see it for myself." K'del offers one of the filled mugs to Jessek, and, once the other man has taken it, hoists himself up so that he can move across to one of the other chairs and sit. Once he's settled, he explains, quietly, "Because it doesn't bother me. I'm-- like that. Always have been. But not all weyrfolk are like that: some genuinely have problems with such things, and I don't think that's a bad thing. But we don't always have a choice. When our dragons mate-- but that doesn't mean that, the rest of the time, people aren't true to each other. The things with weyrs is that you get to decide that: what you're comfortable with. What works for you. And your partner." "How can you?" Jessek asks, after cradling his mug in his hands. "If your partner suddenly decides they're comfortable with something else..." He grits his teeth, like someone who knows. "Dragons...dragons I don't understand. Again, all I've heard is..rumors. Which probably doesn't do them credit." He takes a cautious sip of his klah, sighing as it travels down to his belly. "But someone who doesn't have a dragon has no excuse. If you tell someone you're going to be with them.." He shakes his head fiercely. "I see many more examples of loose women than faithful women. That's why I.." He curls his lip, eyes glittering. "That's why I /hate/ them sometimes!" K'del watches Jessek around the rim of his mug, but doesn't respond until he's taken a sip and swallowed it. Then, quietly; "If Milani decided she'd rather be with someone else, then that would /hurt/ - but it would be her decision. I haven't given her any promises; she hasn't given me any." He leaves the dragons be for the moment, concentrating instead on, "Don't hate them. That's half the population you're dismissing. In general, I recommend judging people based on their individual merits - their deeds. Not quite so easy, but..." He sucks in a breath, leaning back into his chair. "There are loose women. There are loose men. It's not necessarily a bad thing, not unless there /is/ an agreement they're breaking." Jessek broods for a while over his klah. His expression gives away little, so it's hard to tell if he's thinking about what the Weyrleader is saying or if he's just zoning out. He sips again at his klah, and when he speaks, his voice is at its most vulnerable. "But it /does/ hurt." He looks up, brows furrowed with agitation. "I just can't understand why!" He moves as if to stand, but the drink sloshes dangerously, so he thinks better of it. "It's just not fair! That they just..that she just..moved on. Didn't ask me, didn't talk about it, and used me still.." He shudders with revulsion. "With that same smile on her face, knowing damned well that.." Wincing visibly, K'del shakes his head: he's watching Jessek intently, eyes following the slosh of the drink, the brooding. Quietly; "Yes, it does hurt." There's empathy in his tone, even if, from the sounds of it, it's not from direct experience. "I can't-- she did wrong by you. Don't think for a second I don't believe that, if what you're saying is true. I can't explain it; I can't excuse it. But are the actions of one woman enough to dismiss all women?" "I haven't covered the entire span of Pern," the young man continues. "But I've..I've seen enough of it to have seen what they do. It's like every one of them reminds me of her." Jessek throws back the rest of his klah before it gets too cold, sighing heavily. "I can't wish them all out of my sight. And sometimes...sometimes I can just ignore them. But if one tries to talk to me, it all just comes back." He peers into his empty mug, and gestures almost shyly to the kettle. "Alright if I have some more?" "And because they remind you of her, perhaps," begins K'del, gently, "You see them /as/ her?" His quick nod and wave towards the kettle can easily be taken for 'yes, of course, go ahead', but he doesn't pause to actually say the words. Instead, the young Weyrleader turns his mug in his hands, shifting his gaze from the young man to the contents of the mug, as though it contains all answers. "Well. The point is: I can't make you get over any of it. That will take time. /But/." Now, his gaze is upon Jessek again. "Try? Try to get to know them. Talk to them. Be gentle. Reckon it'd be an awful shame going through life /not/ recognising the good in half the population." Jessek helps himself to another cup with permission, returning to his chair and sitting carefully so as not to spill his drink. "Believe it or not, that's part of why I decided to settle down," he admits, ruefully. "I've spent a lot of time in...less than savory company. That may be part of the problem. It's just that things here are more relaxed about...that...than I'm used to." He shakes his head. "I don't see how you types get through it without going insane." The line of K'del's mouth hints at a smile, albeit a rueful one. "I'm glad," he says, apparently honestly. "Weyrs are always an adjustment: they're different to anything else. It's just the way things are. Plenty of people go through that-- I did, to some degree. Try talking to some of the crafters, shells, plenty of the riders, too. Eventually... well. Most people accept the weyr for what it is, or ignore the bits they're not comfortable with. Some never get used to it, but I suppose that's neither here nor there." He hesitates, before finally setting his mug down on the table. "We've a few more... unsavory types, here. But. For the most part, we're good folk. I like to think, anyway." Jessek studies K'del's face. Some of his inner rage seems to have been released. He just looks tired now, but at last calm. "I may have to ignore some bits, then," he admits with a weak chuckle, sipping again at his hot drink. "It'd been a while since I had any drink like that. It's not a habit I enjoy or go out of my way to indulge in." He runs one hand through his hair, exhaling forcefully. "You think your rider will forgive me?" He tilts his head, both brows arched questioningly, his expression hopeful. "You do what you need to," says K'del, nodding firmly. "You'll find plenty of others in the same boat." He rests one hand on each of his knee, shifting his shoulders against the padded backing of his armchair. "From what you looked like earlier-- I'm glad. Looks unpleasant." His expression twists into a smile as he adds, easily, "She will. She's a nice person, Warucori. She won't hold it against you." Jessek grimaces his agreement. "It's not." He turns to study the fireplace, probably just enjoying its warmth for a few moments. "I'm sorry I've brought trouble to your weyr. I can...try to make sure it doesn't happen again. I don't wish to lose a home again." He pauses, looking down at the contents of his cup. "If there's...anything I can do to make ammends, I don't mind. I'd like to think there wasn't much harm done, but.." He shrugs weakly. "I know it's not my call. Nor my Weyr." "No." K'del shakes his head as he says it, and his expression is firm. "No, you needn't do anything. You apologised, and the bluerider accepted the apology: that's as far as it needs to go. As long as you do your best to make sure it doesn't happen again - as you said." He draws his hands from his knees, now, resting them upon the arms of the chair, instead; his expression twists ruefully. "You're not the first, and you won't be the last. Just keep your head down, do your job, and that's all I can ask. But if it happens again, I'll require you to meet with the healers once a week for a mindhealing session." Beat. "Not that I think you're crazy, but..." Jessek arches a brow. "Mindhealing?" He takes a long drag from his second cup and leaning forward with curiousity. "I don't think I'm familiar with that. You mean, help me with..?" He can't put it into words, so he doesn't go out of his way to try. "I know they can't...can't change what happened. But they could help..with coping?" He grits his teeth with frustration. "I hate looking so..so /weak/. I was feared. I was respected. I wasn't a wreck like this." Genuinely taken aback, it takes K'del a couple of moments before he can respond. "Most people, you mention mindhealing to them and they run a while: threat, not hope, mostly, even when it's needed." That explains his surprise, at least. "Anyway: that's pretty much it, yes. They... talk through things. Help. Don't know the details, but it can be pretty effective, I'm told." He runs a hand through his hair, and adds, sounding approving, "If you're interested, just go and talk to the healers, I guess." "I'm not a man with a lot of options, sir," Jessek replies. "I'm tired of...feeling like I'm worthless." He closes his eyes, briefly, with shame. "Like I'm..well, like I'm a /disgrace/." He finishes off his second mug, giving K'del a long, tired stare. "I'm not worthless. It's easy to say...but harder to believe." K'del's expression has turned sympathetic again; he nods. "I can understand that," he murmurs, barely above a whisper. "No. You're not worthless, and you're not a disgrace. But you do need help-- so we'll get you that. Easy." Not easy, and K'del's expression suggests that, too, but he's being as confident as he can. "We'll get it sorted out." Jessek looks both relieved and grateful, which, all things considered, must be a marked improvement. "I'll go and speak to the healers, then, before I go to work tomorrow evening," he says, rising to his feet. "I hate to take up too much of your time...you must be a busy man. Again, I'm sorry to..have grieved you so." He looks down at his mug and around, as if not quite sure where to leave it. Then, realizing something, he gives the bronze rider another one of those vulnerable looks, a look that makes him seem much younger. Or maybe it's that it makes him appear his actual age, instead of much, much older. "Thank you..for..for not sending me away." Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he hastily looks away. Even if K'del's seen him do worse than snivel. K'del looks only mildly awkward, upon receipt of that vulnerable look, for the first time as though he's completely out of his debt. He is, after all, not that old himself, even if he, too, generally seems older. He offers his hand for the mug, as he says, "We don't send people away here. Not unless they've had a good chance to make good. And-- honestly. If you need anything. If I can help. Just ask? It's honestly not a problem." Jessek hands over the cup, as it's not his and he wouldn't know what to do with it later. "I'll keep that in mind," he says honestly, and swallows to contain his emotion. "Once again, your time has been appreciated." He dusts off the legs of his trousers, though he's dropped nothing on them. Must do something to shake off the weepies. "You know where to find me then?" He moves as if to go, but waits to make sure the Weyrleader is finished before he leaves. Accepting the mug, K'del puts it down on the table with his own, then rises to his feet. With an encouraging smile; "You're most welcome, Jessek. I do-- in the Snowasis, right? Else, I'll track you down in the caverns. We have ways." He tips his head forward: he's done. Jessek is excused. "Good luck." |
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