Logs:Tough Love
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| RL Date: 7 November, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Hraedhyth has Azaylia under weyr-arrest... sort of. Both Brieli and Iesaryth think it's unacceptable either way, and things are said. |
| Where: Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 3, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, Meara/Mentions |
| Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Accessed via a narrow staircase from the Weyrleader's Complex, or from the broad, sunny ledge beyond, this weyr was clearly designed to be for one of the weyr's junior queens. Spacious, but not extravagant, it boasts a well-sized outer room, narrowing in front the dragon couch and ledge beyond. Much of this main room has been turned over to a couch and several chairs which circle the hearth and the blue rug in front of it. There's a low table here, too, set in the middle of that rug. A tack-cupboard stands tidily behind the couch, keeping out of sight a rider's paraphernalia. Three low steps lead up onto a peculiar little landing, just large enough for the brand new desk and set of shelves that have been placed there. Here, too, there are definite pointers to the lived-in state of the weyr despite the newest resident's attempts at tidying what she can when it comes to the piles of hidework on her desk. Behind the workspace, a narrow passage leads in an inner set of chambers, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area. A decent-sized bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows, comforter. There's a nightstand on either side, 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 to hold toiletries. Unusually, the walls, ceiling and floor of this weyr have all been whitewashed thickly, covering the natural stone. One of the walls has a full sized quilt pulled taut and secure to reveal the work that went into it. It has a decorative border and a pieced-together design in the middle: the spires of High Reaches, with a tawny gold dragon high above, flying through the blue sky. Embroidered into the lower corner is an 'M' to signify the maker. The hearth is also brand new, as are most of the built-in fittings, as though they have recently needed to be replaced. The ocean's whisper of crashing waves has been a constant presence over the past day, soothing despite the high winds and waves, the darkness of stormy skies. Iesaryth hasn't bothered her sister-gold much over the past day or so - first due to annoyance, however brief, and next to allow Hraedhyth and her rider time. But now, the morning of another day has dawned and passed - and so, the gold must wonder, « Hraedhyth. » Her smoke still lingers on the winds. « Where is your rider? » (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Steady drums are constant, have been, keeping with the rhythm of Iesaryth's waves. Hraedhyth's influence is thick, billowing over the weyr like smoke, steady beat meant to inspire the footfalls of their people. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time. Sensing the other gold, she braces herself for well-deserved annoyance, a crackle of surprise given at the question. « Safe. » Curt, but honest. After a moment of listening to the ocean, « We watch over her. » Hraedhyth has been a dull ochre gargoyle, guarding her ledge and her weyr since the chaos. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Dragons. Dragons can inspire dragons. But people inspire people. Iesaryth thinks that people need to see to be inspired, have others be seen. She has images borne on the waves of the Weyr in the places that dragons cannot go (but for when they are very small) of her rider speaking to the weyrfolk, making rounds, standing over a council table filled with a... puzzle of sorts. « Others must see. » They can see Hraedhyth on her ledge, but not her rider. « My rider would like to see yours. » (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) It takes Hraedhyth a bit longer to understand what her sister is implying, fur bristling as realization rears its head. Jaws slam shut, click and clinking similar to metal bars, « She is safe. » What with herself as a golden guardian, nevermind the various dragons who stop by to mill about. Her wingmates, usually, not that she's noticed the pattern yet. « Yours is welcome. » So long as Brieli plans on coming to their weyr, not the other way around. Azaylia is fine and save and good and she's staying right where Hraedhyth can keep an eye on her. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Iesaryth is not surprised; there are some things that only Hraedhyth's rider can do, and this might be one of them. However, she doesn't back down - her waves are as strong and soothing as ever, but water is insistent, able to wear down stone, rust metal. It just takes time. « She will be kept safe by your wingmates riders. You must trust them, trust her to lead. » Then, « She comes. » And it's indeed not very long before Brieli comes up the steps from the complex. She's perhaps dressed a little more for comfort than usual, but otherwise, she seems as together as always - the only thing that gives the lie to all of it are dark circles under glassy dark eyes, hands that she puts in pockets to hide the trembling. "Azaylia," she calls, and though she doesn't sound impatient, there's something threading her tone. "Where are you?" Hopefully there's glows; if not, she'll unshield them as she goes. Hraedhyth doesn't openly challenge the other gold, but she is as stubborn as stone. The waves are welcome to wash and polish over her, as she has nothing but time. Even her silence is rock solid, though it is nothing personal and she will light her sister's shores with those firepits. "I'm here." Azaylia is not drenched in darkness, the weyr surprisingly well lit by glows and candles both. Tucked into the corner of the main couch, Azaylia is wearing her softly blue robe and holding a mug. There are black leggings worn beneath the otherwise immodest thing, having to do with the cold as well as the frequent, loitering Glacier riders. Dark circles surround bloodshot eyes that look to her friend from over the rim of her tipped mug. A sip, then, "Is..." No, everything isn't alright. "What?" "What are you doing here?" Brieli asks, unable to stop herself from incredulousness. "Really. What are you doing? Is she keeping you in here, because we're going to have to fix that." Iesaryth's patience hasn't washed over her rider the way it has Hraedhyth, apparently. As for the gold, she's unconcerned with her stubbornness - they can do this all day. She's right, and Faranth help the world when Iesaryth is right. Her rider thinks she's right too, shoving hands deep in her pockets as she eyes her friend. Hopefully the Glacier riders were good enough to give the weyrwomen privacy. "Drinking tea, when people need you?" "Sitting." Azaylia's reply is quiet, even for her. It could be an attempt at humor, glancing back to the fast-talking Brieli. "...thinking?" She tries again in that childlike tone, sounding lost or just very, very tired. "I- she'll relax in a few more days." Optimism? At a time like this? "I can't fight her, Bri. Not right now. She doesn't need me hurting her too." Eyes widen at the mild accusation, taken completely off guard and not ashamed to show it. "It's klah." She swallows, hands tightening on the mug though it keeps still, her attention solely on the other goldrider. "You can't?" If there are lingering Glacier riders, they'll be on the run from the look Brieli has for the room, dark and stormy - as stormy as her dragon has been. But even so, she's quieter - but that might be worse for Azaylia, who's certainly never seen her friend exactly like this, dangerously quiet. "Should I get Meara to come and help you, then? Move you back into the barracks? Because if you can't, how can we count on either of you? You're not hurting her, you're controlling your fucking dragon. That's what you signed up for, that's what we do. And I need you to hack it right now, because I will not do this on my own. I will not have these people only look to me for answers." Perhaps realizing she's lost it, color high, she pauses before, more calmly, "Tell her you have to do your fucking job and that if you can't, neither of you are fit to lead this Weyr." Azaylia sits in stunned silence. Dark circles and gaunt face make her eyes seem even larger, and it's all the more obvious when they begin to spill over with tears. Scrambling up from her seat, the mug is dropped, forgotten as hands ball themselves into fists at her sides. Nothing leaves her quivering lips beyond hiccuped breathing, looking as though she's been struck. "Y..Y..Y-You..." With a sudden, loud sniff she ignores the tears to pin Brieli with that stare that is looking less lost by the second. Barely audible, particularly over the warning drums that have begun to fill the minds of dragons nearby, "Take it back." Calmly, her own hands likely clenched in her pockets, Brieli watches Azaylia - and it's not until she's leap up from the couch, klah spilling, that there's a light in dark eyes. "You can do the job, or you can't, Azaylia. That's all there is to it. I know it's all horrible, but we can't let them think we're hiding or scared of what might happen. People would say that eventually, that you and Hraedhyth were too afraid of what might happen to go on. And..." Here she falters a little, perhaps moved by tears, or just stretched too thin. "I can't do it by myself. We can't. We need to find what happened so we can feel... like it won't happen again." Not safe. She'd never say that, not really - and not with the tawny gold's definition as it is. Azaylia is visibly trembling, body tense as she finally resolves to glare at her friend. Swallowing, "Well I can't." Whispered voice isn't delicate, a little hiss that loses any trace of venom near the end. Brieli may be calmer, but with Hraedhyth's fires gathering her rider's emotions as fuel, it's a vicious cycle that the weary junior is caught in. "I'm not you. I couldn't even- I didn't see her- Not until Cadejoth..." Thoughts spill from her lips as quickly as they come, and even if every fiber of her wants to curl up and cry she won't. "I handle my d-dragon my way. She's not Iesaryth. We're not perfect." Where the hell did that come from? Whatever it is, it takes the wind out of her sails- or it could be the way Brieli falters. She forces her hands to relax, face screwing up for another harsh sniff, "I want to help..." But? But. Frustrated, "You can, or you're a weyrling. I'm sorry, Azaylia - that's the way it is. You control your dragon, not the other way around. If you can't, you shouldn't have graduated." It's harsh, but it's the truth, really - what do weyrlings learn first but that they must control their dragons? Brieli frees her hands only to fold her arms in front of her, implacable. But even so, she snaps, "I haven't slept since I saw her lying there. And I didn't have the luxury of getting drunk or having company over the past two nights. I've been running the Weyr. And she's not perfect, she's an egomaniac and is obsessive over the dragons she likes. And I am a liar and much much worse, but I'm still doing it because someone has to." With a purse of her lips, "Then get dressed and get out and help. Give the people some sort of comfort, because Faranth knows I can't. Or I send Meara to collect you both." Azaylia's screwed up face smooths out only to scrunch with a look of genuine fury that she doesn't wish to actually unleash on Brieli. It isn't until her methods of coping is thrown in her face that the junior glares at the other weyrwoman, fists reappearing. "I..." A swallow, a breath. "Maybe..." She drawls, "I LIKE staying in my weyr!?" Her voice cracks with the scream, volume yet unreached by the usually soft spoken woman. Hraedhyth bellows her fury, echoing her rider and lumbering into the weyr. "STOP blaming her. STOP IT." Shoulders quake with the force of her breathing, taking a step and nearly baring her teeth, "Just because Iolene liked you-" She falters so sharply it's as if her words have been literally cut off. Head bows to shake viciously, loose hair flying this way and that before one of those bitten back sobs breaks through. "Sorry." Another, carrying even more words with it, "Iknow. Sorry." Though there is some surprise at the screaming, widened eyes; "I like staying in my weyr. I like having my... I like having N'rov with me. We don't get everything we like. My whole fucking life is not getting what I'd like." Brieli is likely exaggerating, but she seems to be sincere enough about it at the moment. She doesn't move even as Hraedhyth lumbers in, but the ocean rises, ready to protect Iesaryth's rider if need be. "Stop blaming her yourself, then! 'I can't...'" But Azaylia's words about Iolene have her stop cold, dark eyes sobering. Softly, "She... I don't think so. We just... had secrets. We understood that, maybe." Letting out a long breath, shoulders beginning to drop, tension easing, "Don't be. It's-- I expected too much, maybe. I want to give you time, but... I don't think we get that. Not as long as we want." A pause before, "They have the girl. That made her tea. We should talk to her." Hraedhyth watches with a protective stare that whirls fast and red, trembling with the effort of staying so tense. Azaylia may not be calm, but it seems as though she has no more biting comments left. The anger itself has exhausted her, and this time Brieli's words have her frantically wiping at her eyes. "No. I was... I shouldn't have even though that." Her words are rough, but softspoken once more. "I feel bad." Guilty. "I never really took the time to... and now she's..." The ashen gold sags, a low, mournful sound leaving her throat. A noise that has Azaylia tripping over herself to lay a hand on Hraedhyth's muzzle. "I... You just knew what to do right away and I..." Choked up by her failure that day, she changes the subject, back still facing Brieli. "The girl that..." Her stroking hand stills. "Just... talk?" "There's a lot of things that I would have liked to say. I... I suppose we should remember that." Brieli looks as if she might add to that for a moment, but something in her can't quite manage it, so she just continues, arms dropping to her sides, "Don't feel bad. I've seen... I've been around death before. And I wanted to give you time. -- I didn't know what to do, I just... did something. Anything. I don't even want any of this." There's something almost desperate in her tone before she can get it back under control, then wearily, "I don't want to see anyone else hurt. I might scare her if she's not helpful, but yes. Just talk. I've already had access to the kitchens limited, and Taikrin has a guard rotation on both of us and Lujayn. Just in case." A pause. "We'll have to let people move freely eventually. But for now, Hraedhyth is probably right not to let people leave." Azaylia presses her lips against her dragon's hide, almost dry enough to be of some concern. That will have to be taken care of, along with whatever she can manage- with the help of the other weyrwoman. Palm smooths over her smooch, patting as the junior turns away from her dragon to approach Brieli. "I should feel bad. You were absolutely right. About all of it." It hurts to say, the pain still in her eyes, but it needs to be said. When she reaches the other goldrider, she'll force her into a tight hug if she has to, squeezing perhaps a bit too tight. "I'll have a talk with Hraedhyth about letting Vhaeryth visit." She pulls back, "We'll see what the girl has to say." Resolve threatening to crumble again, she manages to get the words out. "Oh Brieli, I never meant to force this all on you. Please. If there's anything I can help with..." She blinks her eyes rapidly to stave off tears, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "You don't have to get Meara involved. Poor lady." "I'm sorry. I'm just so... so tired. I can't stop seeing her." Brieli will accept the embrace without a fight, for once in her life - even if Azaylia's strength might have her let out a bit of a squeak when she squeezes tight. But she returns the hug, telling her, "I know you can do it. You just needed... something to make you want to. But people do need you. I... I'm not the person they're going to come to if they want to feel better." As she's proven. "And they do need to see we're not afraid. Even if we have guards." She dismisses Meara with a wave of her hand - not necessary - but offers a faint smile of her own. "Just... we'll just do what we always do, yes? We'll talk to the girl, and find out how all this happened - but everything else is just like always." Right. Like that'll work. But it's not the worst idea, for all no one's gonna buy it. "Want to stay in my weyr tonight? I've been letting..." Her words lose some of their energy, hesitant if only because Brieli might not approve. "I, some people don't have weyrmates. And they're scared, too. I-I've let a few people sleep in the main room." If only because she can't be so oblivious to the danger, "There's no food allowed. And there's guards." Already proving the younger junior right in a way, as to which of them might be seen as more comforting. "B-but my offer, I mean, you can even take my bed. I'll brew tea..." Hands find Brieli's upper arms with a much more delicate touch, already wanting to coddle her frazzled friend. With a quiet sigh, her hands drop to wring in front of her, "...It feels like things will never be like they were." She lifts her head a tiny bit taller, "Have to try, though." Right? Shaking her head, Brieli still has a slight smile for Azaylia, if only to show she really doesn't care what her friend does with who, even if it's as innocent as making her weyr a flophouse for wayward riders. "No... I can't sleep. I'd go crazy with the people and I just... Maybe I'll talk to Madilla. If it keeps up. And well. We'll have to eat eventually, and I'm not cooking." There's a wry quirk of her lips for that, lifting her hand to cover the other goldrider's before it drops, nodding. "They never will be. But I think people will feel better if we pretend they might." Now that she's a little more confident in the other junior(?) getting herself together, "Maybe start first thing tomorrow. Mornings are good for... everything looking fresh. We can talk to the girl right off - I don't think she's locked away, just... not going anywhere either." Azaylia wears her concern plainly, "I have... trouble." But then, she only caught a dragon-shared glimpse. She wasn't there. "Please do. You need to sleep, Brieli. We can't have you screaming at everyone because you're cranky." Trying to joke about earlier, it's not entirely successful but at least she's maintaining a smile. A tiny one. "I can pretend." She's reluctant to return Brieli's personal space, but the fallen mug catches her eye and she moves away to pick it up. "I want to give Hraedhyth a bath and oiling, first. But I'll- just wake up earlier. Then we can talk to her. I... we'll just talk." She can't think of what will happen if they find out anything. Not yet. Brieli won't talk much more about what she sees, her sleep - she just has a little laugh for the joke, nodding, perhaps a bit ruefully. "It's... not how I like to be. I admit. I just -- need you. Everyone does. Obviously." She has her own little joke, looking around at the weyr. "It's good we have big weyrs. Anyway." Waving that off, she notes quietly, "It's easy to do. After awhile. It's like pretending you're someone else. Someone who some things didn't happen to. It doesn't take much." After that slips, she almost looks alarmed, then briskly, "That sounds good. I'm in the council chambers in the morning now. Trying to... figure it out." Reaching out to give her friend's hand a squeeze, she says, "I'm glad you're all right. And that we're here for each other." Because otherwise, Bri really might lose it. Dropping the hand in hers, she gives Hraedhyth a look that's somewhere between apology and sympathy, and heads back out into the Weyr. Azaylia gives Brieli another look, this one not composed of only worry. "...yeah. It's something like that." Though the example offered by her friend is specific enough to have a faint crease appearing across her brow. A hand lifts to rub at her face, giving an exhausted exhale as she pushes paranoia away. "I'll be there." her other palm returns the squeeze, and she peeks at Brieli between her fingers. "I'm better, thanks to you. Even if I- well, I'm always here for you." Even if it seems like she's not, sometimes. Hraedhyth gives a low hum at the weyrwoman's look, eyes dull but no longer crimson. With her friend gone, Azaylia slumps and shuffles weakly to her dragon, looking to curl up against the gold's massive chest. Tomorrow will be better. She'll make sure of it. |
Comments
K'del (K'del) left a comment on Thu, 08 Nov 2012 09:57:09 GMT.
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<3 you both super hard for this.
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