It's all relative
What: Aivey wakes at an ungodly hour, E'sere follows and plans for the day are made.
Who: E'sere, Aivey
Where: Their place
Morning, and rather early at that. Aivey, curled against E'sere's side, wakes like clockwork. Only not quite clockwork is the thin layer of sweat she's covered in, and the startled gasp for breath that leaves her staring at the darkened exit. Checking over her shoulder and spotting E'sere almost eases that reaction, and instead of heading for the door, she twists under his arm and draws closer toward him.
E'sere has, as usual, snuggled into the bed and covers and Aivey all together, face half-buried in pillow. As Aivey wakes and starts to move, he stirs a little, and while his eyes don't open, he eventually wakes up enough to automatically move his arm back about her and offer a sleepy, "Morning."
"Go back to sleep," Aivey offers, dropping her forehead against his lips to still any immediate protest, "It's still early... didn't mean to wake you." She draws away, if only to look at him before resting her head back on his shoulder. The weight of his arm is welcome and, what's more, wanted. Aivey curls a hand around his wrist, adding distraction to her earlier command when she rubs her thumb against his palm.
"You're not exactly encouraging that," notes E'sere, peeking open one eye to look at Aivey, and after a moment the other to look at her and turn over to hug her up better. "More dreams?"
"Never said I was fair," Aivey returns, slipping her thumb into his palm and pressing it there. His question earns a nod, "Wasn't me this time." An aversion of her gaze might state who it was, even when she doesn't, "-anyways, it's just a dream. Didn't mean to wake you." Which prompts another kiss and a generous, "Go back to sleep, it's ok."
"I'm awake now," says E'sere, lightly accusing as he leans his forehead against her. For all he says that, his eyes close again, though he doesn't let the conversation drop. "Just a dream," comes the agreement. "Don't let it bother you. It's nothing."
"Not my fault you're a little Lady," Aivey returns, her expression more mocking than her words, "Did you get enough beauty sleep?" With a free hand, she attempts to tousle his hair though when the conversation isn't dropped, she slides her hand to rest atop his arm. Serious now, she says, "Doesn't mean I have to like it any. I lost you."
"I don't know--how do I look?" E'sere pulls his head back enough to strike a pose, or at least as much of one as he can while lying down and half-asleep. He studies Aivey again then, and finally notes, "Beats sharing me, at least." He offers a smirk, not very humorous for all he's trying to make light.
"Gets better," Aivey replies, smiling lightly. "Morelenth? -I- had to deal with him after." Deal, and not in the usual sense of the word. "Stupid dragon didn't know any better. Dad - Derek - he wasn't very pleased about the situation, either."
"Gets better," Aivey replies, smiling lightly. "Morelenth? -I- had to deal with him after." Deal, and not in the usual sense of the word. "Stupid dragon didn't know any better. Dad - Derek - he wasn't very pleased about the situation, either."
"Morelenth will /between/ when I die," E'sere notes rather gently, as though that were some kind of comfort to Aivey. "It's instinctive." Pause. He's silent a moment, awkward. Then, he points out, "You called him 'dad.'"
"Yeah, but he didn't. He said he liked me better, too. Something about how much prettier I am than you... I think he's more vain than you are." Aivey's eyes light with amusement which lingers even as she nods to his last. "Yeah. He's my dad." As in: why wouldn't she call him that?
"Not possible," E'sere brushes off that dream-phenomenon breezily, smirking. Then: "You never call him that. You call him 'my father' or 'Derek,' the same as I do."
"If he's your father," Aivey allows, her features scrunching with disagreement, "We have some serious issues that'll need sorting out."
"Well, your father," amends E'sere, eyeing Aivey. "Though, knowing my mother... You're avoiding, Aivey."
"Don't even put the thought in my head," Aivey says with a chiding slap at his shoulder. "I'm not. I just... he's my dad. It-" Her nose wrinkles and she makes a show of hiding her face, "It sounded stupid, didn't it?"
E'sere smirks again, quirking a brow, but he lets that expression fade at her latter words. "Stupid? ... Different, more like. I didn't expect it."
"I'll warn you if there's a next time," Aivey replies, quite serious, "-and getting back to that thing you said? Don't say it again. I don't want to think about it happening. Especially not like that."
"About my mother and your father?" Bemusement returns quickly; E'sere smirks. "I don't know; I think they would make quite the lovely couple. We can set them up together when we get home," he notes teasingly.
Aivey meets his tease with a not-so terribly playful punch of his shoulder, "I wasn't talking about that. Though if you even /think/ about it..." A look that's meant to be menacing probably isn't all that convincing. "You and Morelenth. All that betweening bullshit. Don't talk about it. I won't bring it up again if you don't."
"I always wanted a real daddy," muses E'sere. "I wasn't terribly impressed with Jerald when I met him." A shrug. Then, more seriously: "Why not?" he asks.
"E'sere." Warning, despite the faint amusement tainting Aivey's warning, "It's just creepy and I don't like thinking about it. Besides, if I /do/ start thinking about it, then that means I have to start finding a replacement for you."
"Why?" asks E'sere, both brows sliding up as he eyes her. "Because we'd be step-siblings then? I don't mind if you don't mind."
"You're - I can't-" Aivey ends snuggle time abruptly, pulling away and seeking to stand, "I wasn't even talking about that... I didn't think I /had/ to," Which means she's eyeing him rather strangely, "I swear it's got to be because you're a rider. All the inbred dragons and stuff. It's bound to mess with the head."
When Aivey stands, E'sere just grins, sitting up himself. "It's not like we'd really be related." Pause. "Especially as I'm envisioning them as more the fling type. It wouldn't even have to be long term." He's probably just trying to rile her now, because that grin never falters. "So, what /were/ you talking about, then?"
E'sere totally deserves what comes next. Namely the sound beating with the pillow Aivey snakes out from under him, and wails at him with. She doesn't stop, either, until he either admits defeat or is knocked unconscious. Given one's less likely than the other...
"Woman, stop that!" E'sere protests, laughing as he holds up his arms to fend off the pillow. He tries to use one arm to stop most of the beating, and with the other reach up to try to grab one of Aivey's wrists and drag her back down to his level. "You are not as cute as you think you are."
"You're-" Two good hits with the pillow punctuate the pause Aivey gives, and, with a deep breath, she goes for a third - only to be caught and pulled down. The pillow is dropped as she seeks to use closed fists, only instead of punching him, she digs into his shoulder, "At least I'm not /liking/ the idea of us being related."
"I didn't say I /liked/ it," E'sere murmurs as he keeps a hold on her wrist and smirks, leaning forward to seek a kiss. "Just that it didn't bother me. There's a fine line there. Somewhere."
Aivey, not condoning the kiss just yet, pulls back enough to look him straight in the eye, "You're kidding. You'd /better/ be kidding."
E'sere slides his brows up again, surprised. "Well, no. It really wouldn't," he tells her with a shrug, tilting his head as she pulls away from him. "Why would it bother you?"
Aivey tries, for an initial second, to word a sufficient reply. And she can't, so she says, rather bluntly, "It's just /sick/. You don't - not with - you should know this."
"Apparently it needed to be cleared up." Aivey retorts, slapping at his shoulder again, "If you give me some bullshit excuse about how it's the 'rider thing to do'... don't." There is, at his bemused expression, a moments pause, "Please tell me you're joking with me."
"We're not related by blood," E'sere notes like it's nothing, shoulders lifting again. "My mother does not have affairs with men of your father's class. And I say that with the utmost respect for him, of course. But. If we're not actually blood, why should it matter?"
"No, no, no," Aivey denies, "You said it wouldn't bother you if we were. We're not - thankfully - but if we were..." Another slanted look at him, quite disapproving and a tad disgusted, "You said it'd be fine."
"Oh. Did I say that?" E'sere blinks, taps his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Okay, that would bother me a little more. I was still thinking along the lines of step-siblings, which is different. Real siblings... Hmm. Well. I've never thought about it before, to be honest. I don't have any siblings."
"Asshole." Retreating to the age-old insult, Aivey slaps the side of his head, hard enough to voice her displeasure about the entire concept, though drops back against his side, "I always knew you were a little off. I just didn't think it was that bad."
"I am not off," E'sere notes, wincing and rubbing his head where she hits it. "I was just saying. It would be a little disconcerting if we were related. Fortunately, we're not. That's all there is to it." A shrug, and, probably to forestall another slap, he leans forward to try that kissy thing again.
"A little disconc-" Aivey, stopped midword, does at least allow the kiss this time. What with the entire inbreeding notion dispelled. When all that kissey-kissey ends, Aivey rests her head against his shoulder. "You going to have time for lunch today?"
"For you?" asks E'sere, tilting his head and smirking again. "Always. Shall I meet you here, or out there somewhere?"
"I feel loved. Really, I do," Aivey responds, reaching for his wrist, "-and the clearing. I'll grab you a bowl so just find me when you get there."
"Mm. You are," murmurs E'sere. "I'll see you at lunch, then."
"Alright." Pleased with the date, Aivey sneaks in another kiss before pulling away. "Wake that dragon of yours and ask him to take me down once I'm ready?" That she's already moving toward her clothes while working at shedding the ones she's wearing might suggest 'no' is not an acceptable answer.
"He's up," says E'sere, while a moment later Morelenth is blinking his eyes open and lifting his head to eye the pair. E'sere, meanwhile, moves to stand and get dressed himself, in preparation to go down as well.
"Stay," Aivey dictates, "You've got a while yet. Couple of hours, maybe more. I'm just getting some air." Proper clothes donned, she slips back to the bed, leaning in for one last kiss, "Lunch. Don't forget."
"I'll see you then, then," says E'sere with an easy smirk as he returns that kiss, then moves to sit down again, and lean back against the wall, watching her with a faint smirk. "Have a good day, Aivey."
"Always try," Aivey replies, turning from him to retreat to the ledge and Morelenth. Mounting is still not a skill she's entirely successful with, though eventually she's settled and holding on for dear life.
Who: E'sere, Aivey
Where: Their place
Morning, and rather early at that. Aivey, curled against E'sere's side, wakes like clockwork. Only not quite clockwork is the thin layer of sweat she's covered in, and the startled gasp for breath that leaves her staring at the darkened exit. Checking over her shoulder and spotting E'sere almost eases that reaction, and instead of heading for the door, she twists under his arm and draws closer toward him.
E'sere has, as usual, snuggled into the bed and covers and Aivey all together, face half-buried in pillow. As Aivey wakes and starts to move, he stirs a little, and while his eyes don't open, he eventually wakes up enough to automatically move his arm back about her and offer a sleepy, "Morning."
"Go back to sleep," Aivey offers, dropping her forehead against his lips to still any immediate protest, "It's still early... didn't mean to wake you." She draws away, if only to look at him before resting her head back on his shoulder. The weight of his arm is welcome and, what's more, wanted. Aivey curls a hand around his wrist, adding distraction to her earlier command when she rubs her thumb against his palm.
"You're not exactly encouraging that," notes E'sere, peeking open one eye to look at Aivey, and after a moment the other to look at her and turn over to hug her up better. "More dreams?"
"Never said I was fair," Aivey returns, slipping her thumb into his palm and pressing it there. His question earns a nod, "Wasn't me this time." An aversion of her gaze might state who it was, even when she doesn't, "-anyways, it's just a dream. Didn't mean to wake you." Which prompts another kiss and a generous, "Go back to sleep, it's ok."
"I'm awake now," says E'sere, lightly accusing as he leans his forehead against her. For all he says that, his eyes close again, though he doesn't let the conversation drop. "Just a dream," comes the agreement. "Don't let it bother you. It's nothing."
"Not my fault you're a little Lady," Aivey returns, her expression more mocking than her words, "Did you get enough beauty sleep?" With a free hand, she attempts to tousle his hair though when the conversation isn't dropped, she slides her hand to rest atop his arm. Serious now, she says, "Doesn't mean I have to like it any. I lost you."
"I don't know--how do I look?" E'sere pulls his head back enough to strike a pose, or at least as much of one as he can while lying down and half-asleep. He studies Aivey again then, and finally notes, "Beats sharing me, at least." He offers a smirk, not very humorous for all he's trying to make light.
"Gets better," Aivey replies, smiling lightly. "Morelenth? -I- had to deal with him after." Deal, and not in the usual sense of the word. "Stupid dragon didn't know any better. Dad - Derek - he wasn't very pleased about the situation, either."
"Gets better," Aivey replies, smiling lightly. "Morelenth? -I- had to deal with him after." Deal, and not in the usual sense of the word. "Stupid dragon didn't know any better. Dad - Derek - he wasn't very pleased about the situation, either."
"Morelenth will /between/ when I die," E'sere notes rather gently, as though that were some kind of comfort to Aivey. "It's instinctive." Pause. He's silent a moment, awkward. Then, he points out, "You called him 'dad.'"
"Yeah, but he didn't. He said he liked me better, too. Something about how much prettier I am than you... I think he's more vain than you are." Aivey's eyes light with amusement which lingers even as she nods to his last. "Yeah. He's my dad." As in: why wouldn't she call him that?
"Not possible," E'sere brushes off that dream-phenomenon breezily, smirking. Then: "You never call him that. You call him 'my father' or 'Derek,' the same as I do."
"If he's your father," Aivey allows, her features scrunching with disagreement, "We have some serious issues that'll need sorting out."
"Well, your father," amends E'sere, eyeing Aivey. "Though, knowing my mother... You're avoiding, Aivey."
"Don't even put the thought in my head," Aivey says with a chiding slap at his shoulder. "I'm not. I just... he's my dad. It-" Her nose wrinkles and she makes a show of hiding her face, "It sounded stupid, didn't it?"
E'sere smirks again, quirking a brow, but he lets that expression fade at her latter words. "Stupid? ... Different, more like. I didn't expect it."
"I'll warn you if there's a next time," Aivey replies, quite serious, "-and getting back to that thing you said? Don't say it again. I don't want to think about it happening. Especially not like that."
"About my mother and your father?" Bemusement returns quickly; E'sere smirks. "I don't know; I think they would make quite the lovely couple. We can set them up together when we get home," he notes teasingly.
Aivey meets his tease with a not-so terribly playful punch of his shoulder, "I wasn't talking about that. Though if you even /think/ about it..." A look that's meant to be menacing probably isn't all that convincing. "You and Morelenth. All that betweening bullshit. Don't talk about it. I won't bring it up again if you don't."
"I always wanted a real daddy," muses E'sere. "I wasn't terribly impressed with Jerald when I met him." A shrug. Then, more seriously: "Why not?" he asks.
"E'sere." Warning, despite the faint amusement tainting Aivey's warning, "It's just creepy and I don't like thinking about it. Besides, if I /do/ start thinking about it, then that means I have to start finding a replacement for you."
"Why?" asks E'sere, both brows sliding up as he eyes her. "Because we'd be step-siblings then? I don't mind if you don't mind."
"You're - I can't-" Aivey ends snuggle time abruptly, pulling away and seeking to stand, "I wasn't even talking about that... I didn't think I /had/ to," Which means she's eyeing him rather strangely, "I swear it's got to be because you're a rider. All the inbred dragons and stuff. It's bound to mess with the head."
When Aivey stands, E'sere just grins, sitting up himself. "It's not like we'd really be related." Pause. "Especially as I'm envisioning them as more the fling type. It wouldn't even have to be long term." He's probably just trying to rile her now, because that grin never falters. "So, what /were/ you talking about, then?"
E'sere totally deserves what comes next. Namely the sound beating with the pillow Aivey snakes out from under him, and wails at him with. She doesn't stop, either, until he either admits defeat or is knocked unconscious. Given one's less likely than the other...
"Woman, stop that!" E'sere protests, laughing as he holds up his arms to fend off the pillow. He tries to use one arm to stop most of the beating, and with the other reach up to try to grab one of Aivey's wrists and drag her back down to his level. "You are not as cute as you think you are."
"You're-" Two good hits with the pillow punctuate the pause Aivey gives, and, with a deep breath, she goes for a third - only to be caught and pulled down. The pillow is dropped as she seeks to use closed fists, only instead of punching him, she digs into his shoulder, "At least I'm not /liking/ the idea of us being related."
"I didn't say I /liked/ it," E'sere murmurs as he keeps a hold on her wrist and smirks, leaning forward to seek a kiss. "Just that it didn't bother me. There's a fine line there. Somewhere."
Aivey, not condoning the kiss just yet, pulls back enough to look him straight in the eye, "You're kidding. You'd /better/ be kidding."
E'sere slides his brows up again, surprised. "Well, no. It really wouldn't," he tells her with a shrug, tilting his head as she pulls away from him. "Why would it bother you?"
Aivey tries, for an initial second, to word a sufficient reply. And she can't, so she says, rather bluntly, "It's just /sick/. You don't - not with - you should know this."
"Apparently it needed to be cleared up." Aivey retorts, slapping at his shoulder again, "If you give me some bullshit excuse about how it's the 'rider thing to do'... don't." There is, at his bemused expression, a moments pause, "Please tell me you're joking with me."
"We're not related by blood," E'sere notes like it's nothing, shoulders lifting again. "My mother does not have affairs with men of your father's class. And I say that with the utmost respect for him, of course. But. If we're not actually blood, why should it matter?"
"No, no, no," Aivey denies, "You said it wouldn't bother you if we were. We're not - thankfully - but if we were..." Another slanted look at him, quite disapproving and a tad disgusted, "You said it'd be fine."
"Oh. Did I say that?" E'sere blinks, taps his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Okay, that would bother me a little more. I was still thinking along the lines of step-siblings, which is different. Real siblings... Hmm. Well. I've never thought about it before, to be honest. I don't have any siblings."
"Asshole." Retreating to the age-old insult, Aivey slaps the side of his head, hard enough to voice her displeasure about the entire concept, though drops back against his side, "I always knew you were a little off. I just didn't think it was that bad."
"I am not off," E'sere notes, wincing and rubbing his head where she hits it. "I was just saying. It would be a little disconcerting if we were related. Fortunately, we're not. That's all there is to it." A shrug, and, probably to forestall another slap, he leans forward to try that kissy thing again.
"A little disconc-" Aivey, stopped midword, does at least allow the kiss this time. What with the entire inbreeding notion dispelled. When all that kissey-kissey ends, Aivey rests her head against his shoulder. "You going to have time for lunch today?"
"For you?" asks E'sere, tilting his head and smirking again. "Always. Shall I meet you here, or out there somewhere?"
"I feel loved. Really, I do," Aivey responds, reaching for his wrist, "-and the clearing. I'll grab you a bowl so just find me when you get there."
"Mm. You are," murmurs E'sere. "I'll see you at lunch, then."
"Alright." Pleased with the date, Aivey sneaks in another kiss before pulling away. "Wake that dragon of yours and ask him to take me down once I'm ready?" That she's already moving toward her clothes while working at shedding the ones she's wearing might suggest 'no' is not an acceptable answer.
"He's up," says E'sere, while a moment later Morelenth is blinking his eyes open and lifting his head to eye the pair. E'sere, meanwhile, moves to stand and get dressed himself, in preparation to go down as well.
"Stay," Aivey dictates, "You've got a while yet. Couple of hours, maybe more. I'm just getting some air." Proper clothes donned, she slips back to the bed, leaning in for one last kiss, "Lunch. Don't forget."
"I'll see you then, then," says E'sere with an easy smirk as he returns that kiss, then moves to sit down again, and lean back against the wall, watching her with a faint smirk. "Have a good day, Aivey."
"Always try," Aivey replies, turning from him to retreat to the ledge and Morelenth. Mounting is still not a skill she's entirely successful with, though eventually she's settled and holding on for dear life.