What's in a future?

[aiveylem]

Stolen completely from brazenbronzer. Thanks!

Who: Aivey, E'sere
When: Day 12, Month 2, Turn 3, 7th Pass
Where: E'sere and Aivey's Weyr, Western Islands
What: E'sere and Aivey discuss the future.


Being the first home affords Aivey some privileges. Tonight it's she who is in possession of the chair and one of E'sere's shirts -- again. Curled up with a blanket wrapped around her and the book in her lap, she looks as though she's at least using her time well. Until the fact that she's sleeping is registered.

E'sere, at least, doesn't announce himself aloud, though he's not making an effort to quiet his footsteps until Aivey's slumber is registered. He stops by the doorway, looking at her, and after a moment shakes his head, bemused, and heads toward bed to sit down, since his chair is occupied.

"You're late," is murmured rather sleepily, and sometime after E'sere has arrived. In shifting, Aivey inadvertently knocks the book from her lap. The spine cracking against the ground is ignored, as is its dangerous proximity to the fire, "What happened?" Blinking and glancing in his direction, Aivey attempts to look appropriately interested in the tale.

"You're early," E'sere counters as he turns back to rescue the unfortunate book, retreating with it to bed again. He settles down on the edge, leans up against the wall, and with the book beside him looks back at Aivey. "What happened with what?" he wonders.

Dropping her chin back atop her hand, Aivey watches the book rescue, and then the bronzerider, "Thought it was later," She explains, then, with a shake of her head toward his later question. "Usually you try to get here first and steal my chair."

"Ah, I see," E'sere notes, arching a brow. "Your chair? I believe I'm the one that ordered it, and I'm the one that's going to have to pay for it, which makes it very much /my/ chair. Don't make me dump you out of it again to prove it."

"Technically, I'm the one who's going to pay for it. At least that was your last thought on the matter," Aivey informs E'sere while leaning back to relax, "So it makes it /my/ chair. Besides-" One luxurious stretch of her legs later, and the tiniest of yawns, "You can always order another one."

"Well, no. You would be what I paid for it," corrects E'sere easily. "And I don't care to order another, when this one does just fine. Not that the cost is very steep, but." Pause. He studies her a moment, then stands back up, sauntering over toward her. "You know, you always wallow on me when I sit in it..."

"Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm a bartering tool of yours," Aivey rejoins, clutching the blanket in one hand as she watches E'sere approach. His later words elicit a smile before she concedes and stands, keeping the blanket wrapped loosely around her shoulders, "You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if I wasn't around...making things more interesting," Continuing to eye him, Aivey adds, "Maybe I should start pawning you off, though, to see what I can get."

"More furniture than you would know what to do with," E'sere retorts back. "And you're welcome to try." Despite his unspoken threat, he settles for kneeling beside the chair, resting his forearms on the arm as he looks at her and quirks a brow.

"Sticks tied together. That's all furniture is," Aivey says, dropping back into the seat and crossing one leg under her, "It's good to know you value yourself so much, though." Leaning forward, Aivey seeks a kiss before her latest insult, "I wouldn't give that much, personally."

"Oh, really?" says E'sere, brows sliding higher as he pulls away, not giving in to her desire for a kiss just yet. "And just what /would/ you give?"

At the denial, Aivey mirrors E'sere's brow raise. "No?" She queries, smiling again, "Fine then. Let's see. What would I give..." Leaning back and nursing the tip of her thumb, Aivey says, "Back at the weyr, I had a really, really nice room. You remember it, right?"

"That dump?" scoffs E'sere at once.

"Mm," Aivey agrees softly, "That's the one."

E'sere snorts. "That's really the best you can do? One tiny little grungy--furniture-less--room in the bowels of the Weyr?" He just looks at Aivey, mildly put-out.

"It served me well." Aivey defends lightly, dispassionately, "The dorms were a bit crowded for my tastes, though, so I suppose really anything other then that would've done just as well."

"Before I impressed, I had a room down there," E'sere notes. "In that general vicinity. At least it was clean, and didn't smell like a cesspool and leave your clothes slimey when you left." Not fondly does he recall Aivey's room.

"Probably why that one wound never healed right," Aivey agrees readily, "Though you know, when you spend the whole day cleaning up other peoples mess, the last thing you want to do is touch your own." Dropping back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest, Aivey studies him a moment before asking, "What was it like?

Nodding slowly, E'sere agrees with everything Aivey says up until the last, at which point he tilts his head up at her. "What was what like?"

"Impressing. It took you how long? You said once, but I forgot... and, well, I want to know what it's like." Aivey watches him for a moment, adding, "I'm curious. Tell me."

E'sere is silent a long moment, looking at Aivey. "I stood three times, when I was thirteen, fifteen, and nineteen--I didn't stand for the one when I was seventeen because... Well. It didn't matter, because Morelenth wasn't there." He glances toward the ledge and the bronze curled up there, then back to Aivey. "It's... not something I can explain. It's--I don't think there's words for the feeling, or if there are, only the harpers know them."

"No," Aivey corrects, semi-gently, "I meant...when it happened. With him. How you knew your life was going to change. What was that like? He's bronze-" The obvious, delivered with a tiny shrug of her shoulder, "It's not like you impressed green or walked away for the last time."

E'sere hesitates, and glances to Morelenth again, pursing his lips. Finally, he answers, "It was--a relief." More silence. Then, choosing his words slowly and carefully: "It's the first step--the easiest one, some ways, because you don't have to do anything to make it happen. It's the hardest, too, because nothing you do can make it happen, either. I--couldn't leave again, alone, not if I wanted to be Weyrleader. I--He wasn't what I wanted--expected." He's still looking at the dragon, frowning. "Too dark, too skinny--he still doesn't look healthy, does he?"

"You can always do something," Aivey dictates, frowning, "There's... there's never a time when you can't do anything." Then, following his line of sight, Aivey sizes up Morelenth and E'sere's reply. "It's different. He's... he's a lot different then the other ones, but that's good." A pause, "He's alright. For a dragon." Back to E'sere, "What would've happened if he didn't?"

"Not with impressing," E'sere contradicts with a small shake of his head. "All you can do is stand there and wait." He stops, looks from Morelenth to Aivey and back again. "I don't know," he finally admits. "I'm glad I didn't have to."

"Even with impressing." Aivey reiterates, firmly, "They're just...dragons. Animals." Glancing to Morelenth again, Aivey adds, "Pretend you didn't. I want to know what you would've done. If your dream meant that much to you...what would you have done?"

"No, they're more than that," E'sere says, shaking his head. "Animals are stupid, good for simple work and that's it. Morelenth is as smart as either of us--in some cases, smarter. He /thinks/. He's not an animal. As for me--" He stops again, frowning. "Stood again, maybe. Or slunk off with my tail between my legs, again. I don't know that I could have done it again. I don't know."

Aivey's lips thin into a small frown. Still watching Morelenth, she doesn't quite look convinced, "All I did at the weyr was simple work." A wry observation she doesn't linger on, "You knew you were a good leader though, right? That you would've made a good leader?" Drawing her attention back to him, Aivey says, "Isn't it stupid that everything rests on chance with you guys? Who impresses bronze, who catches the gold... its all luck."

"Because those things /prove/ who's a good leader," E'sere notes, emphasizing the word. "It's all well and good to say I am, but without Morelenth, without my knot to back me up, I'm nothing. Without the Blood, a holder's nothing. That's just how it is."

"They bleed the same blood as anyone else," Aivey remarks, "There's nothing special about it but what you people put behind it. You stand with them, E'sere, because you're... you're like them. If Morelenth was green, or blue...if he wasn't even yours... it'd be different. All those things prove is that someone was lucky that day."

"You can't change the way the whole world thinks, Aivey," E'sere says with a shake of his head. "That's... just how it works. And I work with it."

"Because it works for you, not against you." Aivey draws the blanket up further around her shoulders and leans forward to ease out of the chair, "If - when I stood...if I would've impressed...if there would've been a gold, you know things would be different, right? Everything I did probably wouldn't matter as much."

"Yes," E'sere says simply. "I know very well what that would change. And it would make all this easier, if we had two queens to take back with us. But we don't, so we make do, and you remember what you promised me." He watches Aivey, frowning.

"What did I promise you?" Aivey asks as she slides past him and toward the fire, "The knot?"

"You wouldn't stand again," answers E'sere, moving to slide into the vacated chair.

"Oh. That." Aivey replies dryly, "Maybe I will. It doesn't matter... no dragon in her right mind would think of choosing me. Besides..." Drawling now, Aivey settles against the wall, tips her head to look at E'sere, "If Diya's gold clutches here again, I'll have to stand. How would it look if Derek's daughter refused to do what everyone else is more or less ordered to do?"

"We'll be home," says E'sere, shaking his head and getting comfortable in the chair, "before she clutches again. Nenuith is old enough she doesn't rise as often as the younger queens." Pause. "Having seen K'tric impress, I'd not be so quick to say /no/ dragon at all."

"Then I suppose I should still do my duty by him and try my luck there. We'll have to be choosy, you know. Can't have everyone standing for the eggs. Only those who'll be of use to us." Watching him, Aivey lingers before adding, "So you think I do have a chance. Why the promise, then?"

"I told you that last time," E'sere notes, cocking a half-smirk. "You keep things interesting."

"You're lying." Aivey counters with a terse frown, "If I was on a dragon, things would be even more interesting."

"A little too interesting for my taste," concedes E'sere. "I like the way things are. And why do you want a dragon, anyway? You don't think you need one of those to be somebody."

"You're avoiding my question." Aivey has said this before, but now she sticks to it. "The truth, E'sere. At least give me that much."

"Because," E'sere repeats patiently, "I like the way things are. They're comfortable now. And it's easier for you to do the things you do without a dragon interfering."

"When we go back, you know... you know it's going to change, don't you?" Either accepting his reiteration, or looking past it, Aivey presents the newest topic. "Not in the way that we're going to make them change but... that we're going to change." Different we's, there.

"Oh?" E'sere says simply, quirking a brow.

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Aivey doesn't reply for nearly a full minute. "You're fooling yourself if you think it won't," She opens one eye, looking toward him, "Once we leave here...this? It won't matter."

"What won't matter, Aivey?" E'sere questions again, leaning forward, watching Aivey with knitted brows.

"Because you'll be back there with everyone you belong with. People like you. I thought about it, today. Yesterday," The day before that and likely even the day before that, "You never saw riders with regular people. It just didn't work that way. It does here because it's all there is."

"I had some non-rider friends," E'sere notes with a lift of his shoulders. "Okay, mostly just Donavon, but I wasn't shy of talking to non-riders. What, you think you have to impress to stay with me or something?" He tilts his head, curious.

"Non-rider friends," Aivey repeats, frowning, "That's what I mean. I watched you. I knew how you were... how you acted. I have stories-" Her lips at least quirk for this, but not for long. "I don't want to impress. I'm not... I'm not rider material."

"Stories?" wonders E'sere, one brow sliding upward. The latter words pass uncommented upon.

"Stories. I watched you for a long time," Aivey replies again, shaking her head, "You know what they are... you /did/ them." One shoulder lifts and drops, casual and quick.

"I see," says E'sere, in a tone that says he really doesn't follow.

"Stories," Aivey tries again, "How you acted...who you treated like a friend, who you were really friends with. Those sorts of stories."

"I see," E'sere repeats, but with more comprehension. "You watched me a lot, did you?"

"I did." Aivey confirms, unabashed, "The first time I saw you... you never even noticed me. It probably wasn't until that dinner thing you dragged me to that you first noticed me.... and all that time, I was the one who did your laundry."

E'sere looks surprised and, for possibly the first time, a little embarrassed. "That was you? I used to have one woman I always asked to do it, but then she died a couple of turns ago, and after that... I didn't find someone else. I should have. She always made sure everything stayed with what it was supposed to be with," he remarks, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It was convenient," Aivey replies, off-hand, "If I needed a way to mess with you, I at least had your laundry as a starting point. And if that failed, then, well at least I knew your schedule and the people you associated with." A pause, "You didn't answer me. Again."

"What question?" E'sere asks distractedly, still a little preoccupied with the idea of Aivey doing his laundry.

Now the patient one, Aivey says, "When did you first notice me?"

"When you tried to kill me with the water on the floor," E'sere replies, blinking and looking around at Aivey. "The night of the party."

"That wasn't an attempt," Aivey scoffs with a roll of her eyes, "I saved the water trick for Roa - I don't like to repeat things. It shows a lack of creativity." Shrugging again, Aivey says, "Anyways, that just proves my point."

"Yes, well," E'sere says, snorting. "I'd much rather lose weeks of my life to poisoning." He rolls his eyes and leans back, still watching Aivey. "You should have said something. I would have talked to you, if you had--I /do/ have specific ways I like my laundry done, you know."

"I did that with Jensen." Aivey replies, "Besides, you were you. There wasn't a point." Readjusting the blanket as she lays down on her side, Aivey waits until she's situated before saying, "You're one of the lucky ones. I always kept your stuff together. Even when you annoyed me."

"My other woman colorcoded everything for me," E'sere retorts. "I think it looks neater like that when I put it away. And how can I annoy you if I don't even know you? Unless you were lusting after me from afar, even then." Smug.

"It arrived to you folded. Count yourself lucky," Aivey retorts, "I wasn't lusting after you either. The first time I saw you... I wanted to strangle you, I swear. You were so..." Pulling a face and wrapping an arm over her stomach, Aivey adds, "I lost my appetite. Really, it was that bad."

"What was I doing?" E'sere wonders, mystified.

"You were being you." As suitable as it is simplistic, Aivey doesn't venture a further explanation. "And when we go back, that's how it'll be. You'll find someone to take my place...someone who still believes you're innocent, and that'll be that."

"And... you don't like that fact?" E'sere wonders, tilting his head. "Or you accept it now, or you're counting the days until you're free again...?"

"Don't be an ass," Aivey rebukes, "I don't like it, no. And I'm not... I'm not the one I'm worried about. I know what I want but I know what's going to happen too."

"What's that?" E'sere questions again, just watching Aivey now, very still.

"E'sere..." Drawing his name out in frustration, Aivey flips over, putting her back to the fire and him.

"That's really what you think I'm going to do?" E'sere presses when she doesn't answer. "Leave you just like that? And that's it?" He frowns, shakes his head. He's silent several seconds. Then: "You realize, yes, that in thirty turns this is one of the longest--quite possibly /the/ longest--relationship I've ever been involved in? And it's just past five months now?"

"We've been here for that long. No one else here will touch you... not because they don't want to, but because they know what'll happen if they do." Aivey's defense is strong (in her mind). "Once we go back, all bets are off. I know you, E'sere."

"You don't think you can scare everyone off back there, too?" wonders E'sere, almost bemused. "I assure you, they're much easier to scare."

"I had a claim to you when we came here," Aivey admits after another pause, "They have the claim back there."

E'sere is silent, glancing away now, toward the doorway and Morelenth beyond it. "There are a lot of people," he finally admits, "back there who are going to want a piece of me for a lot of different reasons. The Weyrleaders, my family, the whole Weyr. Your claim--it's different."

Beneath the blanket, there is a very real stiffening of Aivey's body. Shoulders, back, even her features. Most especially her tone. "I'll kill them before they get the chance," is her initial reply, "But you know it won't be the same, right?"

"It might be better," E'sere offers, though not terribly convincingly.

"No," Crusher of hope, destroyer of dreams, Aivey shakes her head. "It won't."

E'sere releases a breath, frowning. "I don't know what you want from me, Aivey."

"I don't want things to change," Aivey replies, "But when we go back there, I know they will. Everything will."

E'sere, standing, heads over to seat himself beside Aivey. "I don't want things to change, either," he admits, glancing sideways at her. "Those people... They gave up their claims on me when they drove me here. I don't think I /can/ go back to the way I was before."

"I don't want you to," Aivey admits, shifting beneath the blanket, though still keeping her back to him. "I hated it. Hated you." There's silence, a brief lapse before she finally turns to face him, tilting her head back in order to meet him eye to eye, "There's two people in the whole of this world I don't want to lose." Aivey, not being particularly concerned with her own safety, probably isn't one of them.

"Funny. I could say the same thing," E'sere admits, glancing away himself now. "I certainly never expected that. There's been... a lot of changing, recently. I suppose it's only fitting, with the world about to change, too."

"You sound absolutely thrilled," Aivey remarks, dryly, "I didn't either, though. None of this. Almost feels like a punch in the face, doesn't it?" A wane smile heralds Aivey collecting her blanket and sitting upright. Her gaze finally drops away to the fire, "It'll work out. I promise it will. It's just going to take time."

"Weren't you just telling me a few minutes ago that it /wouldn't/?" E'sere wonders, glancing back and smirking, apparently bemused.

"The change," Aivey corrects, mildly, "You and me... who knows." She shrugs, dismissing the matter to whatever force actually /does/ know, "You're going to piss me off again. It's only a matter of time."

"We seem to share that particular talent," observes E'sere. "You're singularly good at it, you know." It's not a compliment.

"Asshole," What's become a term of endearment remains such now. Aivey smiles and shakes her head, "You know I have other talents. Better talents."

"I'm not seeing any of /them/ right now," retorts E'sere promptly.

"Do you want me to kill you?" Aivey asks, prompt herself, "Because that's the particular talent I'm talking about."

"I was thinking of another," says E'sere, tone growing wheedling. "One I'm more personally familiar with."

"Oh?" Perplexed, or at least doing a very good show of it, Aivey looks blankly up at E'sere.

"Mmhmm," says E'sere, as he leans down to finally return that kiss he spurned earlier.

If it was in her to be spiteful, Aivey might just rebuke the kiss. But she doesn't. Abandoning her blanket to drape her arms over his shoulders, Aivey returns the kiss, allowing it to linger before murmuring, "Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you." Horrible as the ordeal is, it apparently deserves another kiss.

"Because I'm really talented, too," E'sere slides in one last retort, mouth tilting into a smirk as he returns that kiss as well.

"Humble," Aivey manages, before abandoning any further attempt at conversation. Room is made as she scoots backward, never parting too far from E'sere. Always with that possessive little clutch of a hand against his shirt or arm - not that E'sere would really want to go anywhere.