Logs:Selfish
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| RL Date: 21 November, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Over dinner, topics serious and not-so-serious. Shani (Brieli) and N'rov consider running away. |
| Where: Brieli and Iesaryth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 4, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Oriane/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions |
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| It was still foggy when N'rov and Vhaeryth left Fort, off to Ruatha sweeps. The fog was barely clearing when they came back through lunch, and hadn't made any surprising advances by the time they left. And then they got to High Reaches, and it was raining. /Raining/. Heavy rain, driving rain, mud-making rain that had Vhaeryth plonk himself down on the ledge and stare rather smugly out at the other dragons as they passed by: he is dry and they are not, he is dry (and neither is Iesaryth!) and they are not. N'rov at least was less blatant about it, at least assuming that one guard hadn't been /peeking/ while he cleaned up in Aishani's bath, afterwards padding out quite tranquilly to make himself at home in one of the armchairs while people passed in and out and the goldrider went about her work. Over time, the sky got to be a darker gray, the pools of light within the weyr welcome, at least by him as he lifts his head. Low, not to interrupt, "Do I hear the sounds of dinner?" That dumbwaiter: unlike K'del's, that fateful night, /Shani's/ works. The rain is all too common in a Reaches spring, though it's not too surprising that Iesaryth hasn't been all that keen to go too far afield unless necessary, despite her dislike of cloudy skies. Even reluctant about trips to Fort, she's pleased to have Vhaeryth's company and to be dry and inside, though perhaps she's not so smug about the whole thing. And though the guards might be less obvious than in past sevens, they still /lurk/ about given the circumstances, some clearly suspicious of N'rov, no matter how innocuous his bathing and lounging may be. That's not like to change regardless, though. Aishani has been curled up in the chair opposite him for a time, looking over her notes now and again with a faint smile. She doesn't have anyone to consult now, any people pestering her - just things to read and note and sort, so it's no surprise even that low inquiry lifts her head, tilts it to listen. There is squeaking. Still. "I knew I liked having you around for some reason or another." As if it's so difficult to come up with reasons. That N'rov: maybe he's going to substitute contact-poison sweetsand for her own, and see if she can tell the difference, like changing brands of klah. Or maybe it's a secret plot to use up the Weyr's supplies of the stuff and drive High Reaches into ruin. (More ruin.) Lazily, "I suppose you want me to get it." Though as it happens, he's already standing. heading towards the cabinet to remove the goods in question... and then make certain of the latch. Helpful or hungry? Shani can decide. There's probably one or two of the guards that finds that entirely too possible; Shani's not the only one who's paranoid around here. As she shuffles through all her notes, mostly in preparation to put them /away/, she lets her head fall back over the top of the chair to watch him, dark hair spilling over it. Tone amused, warm, "Isn't that the other reason? To get me things, kill bugs, tell me I'm pretty." A pause, tossing her work aside before, "That's more than one. Anything interesting?" "Might have to import some bugs, in that case," N'rov allows in much the same tone. "You do have drudges to clean them up for you, yes? ... Noodles. I like the noodles. A couple different kinds of sauce, cheese." He may carry them to the table, but he refrains from full butler duty. Rather, he heads back out to where the guards are, glancing back to give her a far too good-humored grin along the way. To them, "We're going to have dinner now. If you hear any odd noises, it's the noodles. Fruit?" It's clean, palm-sized, soft smooth-skinned fruit that he offers, /not/ on the 'Reaches' current menu. Boll, maybe, or somewhere down South. "Only if you promise to kill them and not laugh at me. I figure even with a promise, it's even odds. And I do." Though the likelihood of Aishani leaving anyone alone to clean up her weyr is rather low. At least bugs don't make much mess. "/Oriane/--" A grimace. "Has an assistant. I'm thinking I might want one of those," she says as she pushes out of the chair, arching fine brows for that grin. It's difficult not to mirror it when she's figured out his plan. The guards outside aren't exactly going to turn 'exotic' fruit down, but they're gruff about it - though the older of the pair has to grin for 'odd noises'. Maybe N'rov has one sort-of fan. Upon his return, smirking just a touch to himself (one down! or on the way!), "I'm pretty sure I won't," N'rov 'assures.' "Laugh, that is. Killing bugs, I can do. I just draw the line at," and now he glances back at her. Oriane. "How did that go," he more says than questions, but it's a question all the same. "Remind me, and I'll tell you about Hattie and the assistant thing later. Also, my father's hat." His hands are clean for sitting around and for lugging food, but he absents himself long enough to wash them again, anyway. Shani's already started looking over dinner, putting everything out on that far-too-formal table. Her expression is critical, but she's not all that picky, really. "Draw the line at..." Because that's definitely interesting. Her glance after him is curious, and she'll raise her voice to follow him for that long, calling, "That sounds like about three different stories. Tell me after." After she's explained, presumably - she's still standing when he returns, waiting to offer quietly, uncertainly, "Well. I certainly let her know where things stand. But I can't help but feel I wasted an opportunity to keep... letting them think I'm onside. They just went /around/ me, threatened Azaylia that they'd take me back. As if they could make me go." The last is derisive. Don't tell /her/ what to do and where to go. "One bridge burned, another made of stone," N'rov paraphrases rather wryly, pausing to kiss her cheek before he sits. After a moment's pause, just looking at her, he shrugs and begins to serve. "That wouldn't motivate you, no. But would it motivate her?" Azaylia. "If she wants to keep you... she could worry. If she changed her mind..." He hesitates over the garnish, but the kitchen did provide them, so instead he sticks both fronds of herb onto the mound of her noodles, sticking out like a particularly energetic tree. Or a flag. She'll manage a slight smile for the kiss, but when Aishani drops into the chair next to him, it's a weary, heavy thing. "Something like that. I try not to second-guess myself - it's not that useful - but I wonder if I let it get away from me. Let emotion decide." She has a flicker of a glance for N'rov, not that she's /blaming/ him, before she takes up her fork, considers. "Thank you. And... that's a point, isn't it. She's sort of an unknown. I'd thought it might have been because they'd thought she'd cave." She picks out the garnish with her fork; there's a brief gleam in dark eyes. Maybe she's thinking about throwing it. "Maybe they're finding out," N'rov speculates, and reaches over with pinching fingers to steal that garnish if she'll only let it drop. "Pesky emotions. They should come with a strongbox, and the sort of lock that can't be duplicated or picked, as long as one doesn't lose the key. Though... if you didn't have them, you could just go anywhere that would take you, couldn't you. But then, you wouldn't really care." "If only I could read minds." Shani is serious enough about that; it'd make her life easier. So she thinks. Resting elbow on table, chin in hand, she'll let the garnish get picked away, if only to contemplate, "I try. I tried. Not to care. Either it's not actually in me, or I'm surrounded by terrible influences." Though she sounds a bit wistful, for a second there. Shaking her head, shaking that off, "What was that about Hattie? I don't think I've told /her/ off recently." "Hey now," N'rov mock-protests once he's made solid inroads on the garnish, one gulp to get it in but then a great deal of chewing. "There's only one of me at the table, I'm pretty sure. Not to take whole credit, or anything. And as for mind-reading... what would you do with the people who /thought/ but never did anything? Imagined it in lurid detail, even? Because there's bound to be more than a few of those." He holds up one finger for Hattie: not forgotten, not avoiding, just this /first/. "Credit or blame?" But Aishani's smiling sidelong at him, adding, "I'll give you /most/ of either." For, despite everything, she's not as closed off or even /angry/ as she was, once. And since he's not avoiding, just delaying for purposes of hypotheticals, she'll take time over it as she spins some noodles on her fork. "I suppose it depends on what they were thinking /of/. Maybe I don't want to read minds, actually." Now that she thinks about it. "Just be... omniscient." He has an eloquent wave, has N'rov: he'll take either, both. "Wouldn't that amount to the same thing?" the bronzerider asks. "You'd have to be careful: if they suspect you really did know everything, they'd expect you to do something about it." He rocks his chair back on its heels, briefly, and turns to sopping up sauce. "And that would be tedious. /And/ they wouldn't let you in the Lucky Seven or anywhere else." Shaking her head, "No, not quite. It's the /lurid detail/ that made me rethink the whole thing. Better to know than know every little thing, maybe." Shani wrinkles her nose at N'rov, pointing out, "I /am/ careful. Though you have a point, about the tedium. And the other places, if people knew. You're making it sound like an awful lot of work." Which is said in a similar tone to 'you're no fun'. Lies. Her bare foot pokes him under the table; she arches brows expectantly. "You were saying?" "Maybe." N'rov's smile verges toward smirk territory again. "You already know about the fun part, or if you don't, you should. Maybe we'll have to spend more time on it." All-the-fun Aishani: wouldn't her guards be surprised! His sock-clad feet strive to catch hers, though he doesn't look down more than an instant. "Ah, yes. Hattie informed me that I should guard you, possibly with my life although I shouldn't swear to it. She seems to think I don't just want you to keep me in the manner to which I wish to become accustomed." Her feet aren't too cold, but he's wearing socks anyway. Her toes flex under his feet, the trace of a grin about her. "Maybe. Maybe I'm working too much anyway. I'll trust you to decide if that needs more time." Aishani won't argue. At least, that's the implication. After his next, though-- that's enough for her to set down her fork, close to done anyway - but /still/. There's a beat before, "I don't know what to say to that. I... Well." Though she might have some idea, "What /does/ she think? And I'd prefer to avoid the /guarding with your life/." That's shaken her a little, on a few levels. N'rov gets a dry nod in there, all wise-sage-is-he, but there's neither time nor mood for anything more: they've moved on. "Mine and Vhaeryth's, yes, is the implication I got. /Don't/ quote me." He's leaned back, arms hooked over the horizontal bar that's the back to his chair. "I think," he says finally, "she thinks you matter." "I won't. Who'd believe it." Aishani is not certain that's all there is to it; she's not certain about much of anything at the moment. She turns in her chair toward him, hands in her lap, dark eyes serious. "'Matter'," she echoes, a little wry. Quiet for a time before her next, she's careful with her words. "I don't know what you want, with things the way they are. I'm selfish enough to want Vhaeryth to catch her whenever it happens, but I don't know if I'm so selfish that I'd want you to deal with any of this, or know everything. I like..." She trails off. "I like ignoring everything else when I'm with you." Even if he's apparently guarding her now. And if that isn't all there is to it, if there's some he hasn't yet said and some he hadn't quite rightly heard, still there's so much out there already. N'rov keeps his arms hooked back, watching her, though beneath the table his feet are warm and close. That, at least, any prying guards wouldn't see. "I like... /helping/ you ignore it. Maybe that's selfish too." He's been called worse. "I don't think I make a very good guard. What would I do? Stand around? Besides, good guards don't get distracted by the people they're guarding, which would..." he has a slow smile. "Defeat the purpose." There's a lot out there, a lot Aishani's taking a bit to process, a lot she already has on her mind. She's not so serious that she can't move her feet a little under his, seek to tickle the arch of one foot with a toe, despite socks. "Maybe," she can allow. "But I don't mind. I haven't been selfish about much, I'll accept being selfish about our time. About you." With her own smile, brief at first, "It seems like you mostly sit around. I think there's supposed to be standing. And definitely no distraction." Rising from her chair, it's only to rest hands on his shoulders, lean down to kiss his cheek. "Though I don't have any /other/ guards that sleep with me. Yet." Because the ones outside are super-hot too. "No, I /lounge/ around," N'rov corrects, aiming for a prim look that might have been borrowed from his little sister, though at least the tickling wasn't so effective that he giggled. He /does/ tilt his head back, let the kissing begin! buuut even that doesn't stop him from affecting an interested look. "I could vet them for you," he says. "Pick out the ones who snore." Duly corrected, "Lounge. I'll remember that." That look from him has her arching brows, but not so much that Aishani's distracted from kissing N'rov, from cheek to chin to lips - though that last is brief, as she tilts a glance towards the entrance. "Start tonight, if you like. Unless you have plans?" Her forehead touches his, nose to nose, dark eyes bright. "Then I'll know who's /approved/." "I /had/ plans." N'rov can be arch, too. And, as long as she's that close, he can unhook one arm to wrap it around her waist: no, you don't get to go. Or, no, both arms: she's a wily one. "And no, I don't want anyone else to catch her. /You/. Yes, I want him to. The rest of this place, though..." if he grimaces, it's not just because of the snores. Shani affects a pout for /had/, past-tense - but she's not trying to slip his grasp just yet. Instead, she'll slide arms around his neck, fingers in his curls. Trapped. But, "N'rov." That's only a shade more serious, for all that the words might make her shiver. Softly, "You've already been carrying around all my lies. This place... it's like my punishment, if it ends up that way. It's not yours." But she's kissing him for it, for saying it, warm and close. So of course N'rov rocks his head from side to side until those fingers catch, just to prove to the both of them that he is, in fact, trapped. It leaves him centered back again, looking up at her, grave gray eyes over the remnants of his smile. Only much later, between kisses, "Maybe we should run away to somewhere else entirely." Even if it can't now, be Monaco. "Before it's too late." Breathless, not entirely joking, "Find a place, and I'll go." Aishani's that quick about it, but given everything, the desire to run off is hardly a surprise. More slow kisses, and she's only unwinding from him to murmur in his ear, "It won't be tonight, though." And lest any nosy guards get much more of a show, she's pulling him out of his chair and to bed. Hopefully, any noise doesn't carry too far. |
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