Logs:Unacceptable
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| RL Date: 12 July, 2016 |
| Who: Aidavanth, Evyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aidavanth and Evyth discuss their riders' breakup, political undertones included. |
| Where: Dragon Brains |
| When: Day 5, Month 4, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions |
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| In the immediate aftermath, the dragons are needed, each by their own lifemate, but the next day? Evyth's touch is subdued as she brushes tentatively against Aidavanth's mind; she'd like to talk, if she's welcome. There is doubt, however, that she will be after the way the shell of Jocelyn and Lys' relationship turned to shards without so much as kindly leaving a new dragon in its wake. Aidavanth's presence ripples in response to that tentative brush, spreading toward her sister's touch as if blown along by a gusty sigh. There isn't much that can be said in the wake of their riders' respective displays, but the gold isn't pulling away from contact with Evyth. « You, » she says quietly after some moments, « are always welcome. » And perhaps that sentiment is even partially Jocelyn's, who, it is conveyed, cannot blame Lys's dragon for the other woman's lies. Silently, she waits for her friend to speak, thoughts still heavy with shared grief. « But not her, » holds a deep sadness. There's some element, not hidden, that reveals Evyth isn't sure how she feels about all of this. There's an echo of Aidavanth's gusty sigh, « I don't think there was ever a way to tell her that Jocelyn could have accepted. » It's not judgmental, that observation, just thoughtful. « Lys has been Lys a long time, longer than she's known Jocelyn, and even if she gave up everything Jocelyn would have hated, would Jocelyn have been able to forgive her if she ever slipped or wanted to act as Lys, uncensored? » She doesn't know. She doesn't even know if there's a point to talking about it, and yet, she's trying to settle some things in her own mind. Quieter, « It hurt her, too. It hurt her how quickly Jocelyn assumed she would do something to hurt her Weyr, her home for as long as she's ever know. She never would. We never would. » There's a glimmer of personal hurt there. « Not her, » Aidavanth agrees reluctantly, « because neither of them needs to be hurt any more than they already are. I have never felt Jocelyn to be so fragmented, so angry, so disappointed. » Or at least, her rider, it must be implied, cannot recall a time with feelings that trump these as long as they have been bonded. She listens as Evyth tries to sort out matters for herself, absorbs her observation, grimaces for that last, personal hurt. As much as she is both sister and friend, she must also be queen to Evyth, and so it's with great care that she says at some length, « I know that you never would, but I can't blame Jocelyn for not knowing what to think - and reacting in the only way she could in the face of how frightened she felt. In her mind, she has potentially endangered her home and her credibility by - having trusted Lys. » Sadly, « She's the only one who can decide how she will act going forward, but I don't expect her to be kinder than her duties require. » Forgiveness will be a long time in coming - if it ever does, goes unspoken. Now there is anger mixed with sadness. « Jocelyn should know better. She acts as though Lys is some-- » What? Evyth doesn't even seem to know. The green's voice is rough, the edible scents of her mind turn to something just a little past its prime. « Her first loyalty could not ever have been to Jocelyn, because her first loyalty is to her Weyr, and she will never betray her Weyrwoman. If Jocelyn learned nothing else of Lys in all the time they have spent together, she should have learned that. » Some of the anger fades, but it's not gone, just overridden by the sadness again. « Jocelyn asked her for the truth. Lys gave it to her. Hated her for it. How will she ever bring herself to give an unpleasant truth to someone she loves again? » Unspoken and unbidden comes the question of whether or not Lys will let herself love again - if she will let those feelings within her dry up as a plant without enough sun and only tears to water it. As though Lys is both criminal and traitor solely by having been truthful. The weight of that knowledge is something silent and heavy, and the flow of Aidavanth's thoughts slows briefly in its wake. « She can't think upon the situation logically, not while she's feeling like this, » she says carefully. « She knows that Lys is loyal to Niahvth's, as she should be. » As Jocelyn isn't, has never been, outside of what her duties dictate. For the green's question, she has no answer save for a mirroring query that floats heavily, inevitably to meet Evyth's; how will her own rider ever trust someone else that much, again? « Not as she would be, » is quiet disagreement. « Irianke, » who has a name not only because Evyth is inclined to use people's names but because the Weyrwoman holds special significance, « is the closest Lys has ever had to a mother. If not for Irianke, I would not have found Lys, Lys would not have been ready to find me. » There's a sigh, « Lys has never felt understood by the world, but sometimes certain people have made her feel like there's a chance that if she found the right people, she might be. She found me, » so that's one. Evyth is still troubled, but that's not surprising. « Lys has never betrayed Jocelyn. She never would, unless the Weyr were in the balance. But Jocelyn would never put her in that position. » And Lys would try not to, but... Well. Evyth sighs. « I suppose Niahvth's, » for Aidavanth uses names only when they hold at least some personal significance to her rider, « is responsible, by extension, for my finding Jocelyn, » since she shelled Roszadyth. At best an uncomfortable topic where her rider is concerned, she instead turns her attention to Evyth's next, wholeheartedly agreeing: « Jocelyn's first priority will always be the well-being of our Weyr. » As for Lys trying not to put her former lover in such a position, Aidavanth partially withdraws with a sweep of hazel, attention briefly diverted. « She's on her way back. I should - » A sigh. « Be well, Evyth. » The green is dissatisfied, perhaps with the need to depart as much as with just everything. There's nothing to be done, though, so she withdraws with only a brush of her mind to return the gold's last sentiment before she's gone. |
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