Round two: D'ven vs. Aivey
Scene: D'ven comes in to ask Aivey a favor. After that it gets hard to tell who's playing who.
Players: D'ven and Aivey
Place: Lower Caverns
Mildly suggestive, but nothing more then that.
Lower Caverns
This is the residential hub of the Weyr, an area honeycombed with rooms and tunnels. To the south are doorways that lead to the baths and laundry. The southeast is given over to the tunnel that takes one away from High Reaches. A hallway that leads to residents' private rooms wanders off to the southwest, not far from the door that hides the dormitories. The living caverns are to the north.
As a high traffic area, there is little decoration to be seen. Small plates beside each door or tunnel mark the room's purpose and some effort has been made to soften the coldness of the stone by scattering rugs over the floor, but for the most part this is a thoroughfare rather than a true destination.
Aivey, at this late hour of the night, can be found winding down for the night in that she's heading in from the living cavern, fresh off her evening meal. In what can be termed uncharacteristic, her movements are slow and measured, almost tired. She lingers just long enough to pick up an empty basket left abandoned against the wall. Sliding it against her hip, she continues on her way.
D'ven is stalking through the living caverns, looking really quite awake. Perhaps suprisingly so, for this late. Every so often he glances around, quite obviously looking for someone. When he sees Aivey, he smiles and heads towards her.
Aivey, of course, isn't so tired she shirks duty. Upon spotting D'ven and his smile she returns it in kind but she can't dismiss the wear from her eyes. "Sir," A complacent greeting, complete with the slightest dip of her head in a respectful offering.
"Aivey." D'ven replies with a smile, before it fades to slight concern. "You look very tired. Have you not been sleeping well?" He leans upon the wall as he speaks, more out of a desire to be out of the way and because he's casual like that than any genuine need to lean.
"Been busy, sir. Seems to me there's lots of work to be done and not enough time to be doin' it," Aivey's greeting turns apologetic, the smile lingering with evidence of such. "Surprised you remembered me too, sir. Kinda embarassed-" She doesn't go as far as shuffling her feet, but she does look slightly pleased, "You're needin' somethin', maybe or...?"
"Embaressed, whatever for?" D'ven replies, his own smile somewhat pleased. It's so very cute, and he's rather susceptable to cute. "Well, partly I just felt the need for company. But I did have a very important favor to ask you, yes."
"You, sir," Aivey says, continuing the embarassed spiel with more obviousness at D'ven's smile, "Man like you should be lookin' at other girls. Not me," She ducks her chin to her shoulder, shoots a look at the floor (one Mississippi, two Mississippi) then looks back to D'ven at the mention of a favor. Embarassment turns to eagerness, "Anythin' sir, I'd be right glad to do it."
D'ven laughs softly. "Well, surely that's for men like me to decide? I mean, if we want to look at girls like you, who's to stop us? And whatever do you mean by that?" He gives an easy smile when she looks back up. "I should warn you, it's not your run of the mill favor. And it might be a little...unsafe if people find out you're doing it for me."
"You're right sir," Aivey says with a firm nod, "Ain't my place to tell you that and I'm sorry. Just... just that I was surprised is all, meant nothing more then that." This, it seems, takes a bit of thought to get across for her forehead wrinkles with concentration, then smoothes over with his warning. Maybe entranced by his charm, she says with a stiff setting of her shoulders, "I ain't afraid to try, sir, so you just go ahead and name and I'll do my best."
"Oh, it's alright, you don't have to apologise. We're just talking is all, and if you apologise everytime I disagree with something you say we'll never get anywhere. I've been told I'm a very disagreeable fellow." His tone is light, and he winks to accompany the latter words. Then he becomes more serious. "I've heard from a fairly reliable source that there's a plot afoot to kill one of my friends, and that's something I really can't allow to happen. Evidence indicates it's an inside job. I was hoping you could keep your ears and eyes open, and pass things onto me. I need to know, and I'm not sure how much time we've got till they try something."
"Oh." Aivey's eyes widen and her mouth drops agape just *so*, "Oh sir that's not good, that's not good at all," She gives a half shake of her head, then turns it into a nod, "I'll keep my ears open, sir. I don't know how much good it'll be, but I'll tell you anything I heard." A shaky smile makes its way to her lips, "I won't let you down sir," Then, as if it just occurs to her, "Or your friend. Tell you anything I hear, sir, I will."
"I know you won't, Aivey." D'ven replies with a trusting smile, his voice full of the reassurance he thinks she needs to hear. "I'm sure sooner or later they'll slip up, you'll hear about it, and that will be that. All over."
"Yes sir," Aivey says, chock full of confidence in D'ven's assessment, "They's bound to do that soon and I'll hear them when they do. You'll be the first one I tell, I promise you that." She offers another smile, "People always talk. Sometimes I hear them and I make sure they don't see me." A secret of her trade, shared with D'ven if only because she seems to *like* that reassurance. "Don't know how I'll find you, but I'll be looking."
D'ven smiles. "You can find me easy enough, Aivey. Most of the day I'll be around drilling with my Wing, so we're often out in the bowl. I'm always around somewhere, and I'll pop down here when I can to make sure everything's going well."
"Three C." Aivey repeats with a generous smile, "I remembered, sir." Which means something, by the manner she continues looking at him. "Anything else, sir?"
"Yes, that's right." D'ven sounds rather pleased. "And no, there's nothing else I need to ask of you." He's not going anwhere, however, continuing to lean on the wall.
Aivey continues smiling because he's still here and, well, that's what she does. "Okay, sir," She offers, tightening the corners of that smile. She shifts the basket on her hip next, absently realizing it's still there and still empty, "If... if you'd like, sir, I can put this down and... we could talk or I could get you something to eat or anything else, sir. Not so tired I'd turn someone away, 'specially not someone as nice as you, sir."
D'ven laughs softly, though it's clear he's rather pleased. "That sounds like a very good idea, Aivey. But please, call me D'ven." He shifts slightly on the wall, a subtle movement and a slight turn of his body that puts him a little closer to her.
If anything looks like it's a bad idea, it's his request to be called D'ven. Toward which Aivey frowns and nearly protests, but then he's moving and she's responding to that instead. "Need to put this where it won't get lost," says she as she indicates the basket, "If that's-" A pause, then, "I'll be right back, sir." No D'ven, still sir.
"As you wish, Aivey." D'ven replies with a smile. If she wants to call him sir, she can call him sir. It dosn't really hurt, after all. He nods then, watching her move away.
Aivey's smile remains fixed until she turns. With her back safely to him there's an almost irritated look - fortunate D'ven can't see *that*, but she's soon disappearing into the resident dorms where the basket is presumably stored away. Upon her return she still looks tired, but smiles none the less. "Meela's basket," She needlessly explains, "Second time today she lost it." More credit to her helpfullness, that.
D'ven smiles. "It's a good thing she has a friend like you to find it for her." He replies, before there's a show of concern again. "Are you sure you'd rather not arrange to have something to eat together another time and get some sleep? I don't want to keep you up if you should be in bed."
"Not at all sir," Aivey earnestly offers, even rushing the last few steps seperating them, "Can't send a man like you to get his own meal and... they're likely to push you out of the kitchens. No," Firm, she steps up beside him, "I'll get you a meal sir, it's my job and not yours." She smiles again, because smiling always wins people over.
"Well, if you're sure..." D'ven feigns reluctance for a moment before letting her smile win him over. "And I certainly wouldn't to be pushed out of the kitchen. You're right, it's probably best if I let you handle it."
Aivey laughs now, and it's quite the bubbly little laugh. She steps past D'ven, not being bold enough to require or request his arm as she moves toward the living cavern, leading the way up to the actual entrance where she pauses to let /him/ go first. "You find yourself a seat, sir, and I'll get you the best we got left."
"Thank you, Aivey." D'ven replies with a pathetically grateful look, finding himself a seat in the corner where he can see the whole room from, and settling down to wait.
Pathetic is Aivey's spiel, buck-o! Sometime after disappearing into the kitchens, she re-emerges, food in hand and heads straight for his seat. Aivey does every last thing any good kitchen helper is suppose to do: setting the food before him, handing fork and knife over and settling napkin in lap with the finishing touch being a glass settled before him, the liquid within holding a fruity smell to it. She stands at the side of the table, not yet seating herself as she asks, "Is that good sir, or did you want something else?"
"That's wonderful Aivey." D'ven replies with that easy smile that seems to rarely leave his face. But then, what sort of empty-headed bronzerider /wouldn't/ be smiling while being waited on hand and foot like this. "Please, do sit."
There's that initial burst of almost protest, but Aivey offers another patented dumb-smile before taking a seat and (as primly as she can muster) settling herself before D'ven. Though still looking tired, she at least sounds chipper. "Weren't nothing to get that for you sir, so don't you feel bad or nothin'. Just fill up your stomach and keep doin' what you're doin'. My pleasure to help you like this, it is and I'll do it whenever you need. Just gotta ask so I know it needs being done."
D'ven laughs softly, and his voice takes on a slightly purring quality. "That's wonderful to know." He murmurs, tucking into the food with evident enthusiasm and enjoyment. "This is really good. Thanks." He murmurs in between bites, washing it down with some of the liquid.
"Weren't me who made it, just served it," Aivey says, voice full of proper humility, "Was gonna get you some desert too, but it's all gone," Hirth! "I'll save you some tomorrow, though. And I'll be sure to tell you anything I heard then." Bitting her lip, she falls silent while making a show of /not/ looking at him.
D'ven makes no such show, he knows how this game is played and he plays it well. In between bites of his meal and sips of his win, he studies Aivey with a slightly teasing smile on his lips. "Oh, I'm sure there are other things I could have for afters."
Aivey's own game is flawless. She, again, looks ready to discount his certainty but then the rest of her slow-seeming mind catches up and the not-looking at D'ven turns into looking at D'ven, "If you want, sir, so long as I get to my chores in the morning." Prioritizing here, chores are important after all, "There are other girls. Prettier ones I could find for you." Pretty being the key.
"Oh, getting you to your chores won't be any problem." D'ven replies, his voice still that languid, throaty, purring sound. "And there are other girls, this is true." He dosn't sound very interesed in any of them, however. Indeed, he sounds fairly dismissive of them.
Aivey's is no where near sensual, just slightly perplexed as to why D'ven's preferences aren't with those other girls. Certainly the wrinkled forehead isn't helping matters any either. "Well alright then, sir." She folds her hands atop the table, quite businesslike, "Suppose this means I get to get you breakfast too, sir." Because she's likely expected to at this point, Aivey smiles.
D'ven's preferences are elsewhere because, as far as he believes, Aivey is just a silly lower caverns girl. And he knows how..emotional they can get. This is just the final step in binding her to him and ensuring her loyalty, as far as D'ven is concerned. "I suppose it does, yes." He replies with a smile of his own, coming to the end of the meal.
Aivey looks down at that plate, then to D'ven. "Need to bring these back, sir and then I can meet you back here." Already she's reaching for the empty plate and moving to stand in the next move. It might take her a bit longer to be rid of them - girls and always having to wash their dishes - but she does return. "Sir." A universal "ready when you are" for the bronzerider.
"Shall we, then?" D'ven smiles, offering Aivey his arm as he begins to head out towards the bowl where Teraneth is waiting to take them up to his weyr.
Aivey's steps up beside D'ven, taking his arm and smiling. For good measure she adds a nod and a happy sounding, "Of course, sir." After that it's up to him to lead the way.
Once they're out in the bowl, D'ven moves over to the enormous bronze and holds out his arms to help Aivey up. "It's only a short trip, we're just over there." He smiles with a gesture to one of the ledges.
If you've seen one ledge, you've seen them all, or so the non-committal 'mhm' from Aivey suggests. The assistance upward is taken, for she's short and girly and it's a man's job to do what D'ven offers. Once settled she's sure to smile down at him, "Thank you, sir. Right good of you to help me up here."
Once Aivey is settled, Teraneth takes them up to the ledge. It's a big place, but then it would have to be for the bronze to able to live there. Helping Aivey down with a smile, D'ven leads the way into his home.
Aivey is led, because she's quite good at being led. Appropriate awe and comments are filtered - my this place is big, and ooh look at that, looks downright proper it does - anything to bolster the ego of her male counterpart. She keeps in step with him, never straying too far or taking her attention off of him for long. Indeed she's watching him closely, almost as though she were waiting for something more to happen then what D'ven expects.
"Do you want something to drink?" D'ven offers, already pulling out bottles and glasses. "I make it myself, you know. I'm told it's really quite good." He smiles, though the smile is a tad vacant. Really vacant. As though his mind were just starting to shut down without warning.
As the drinks come out, Aivey visibly relaxes. From her seat on the edge of the bed, she taps the space next to her and nods with enthusiasm, not speaking but giving a coy smile that's intended to lure him closer. From that point forward, Aivey is quite attentive to D'ven while she sips at her drink; engaging him in conversation, more drinking and more flirting.
The wine might seem to disappear faster at that point, the world a little more blurry and things hazy before D'ven will find himself lured into an unnatural sleep, compliments of that special little dinner prepared just for him. Aivey leaves him where he falls, casting a curious look around the weyr before slipping away from the bronzerider's side to do a little inspecting on her own. She committs no more then a handful of minutes to her search, coming away with nothing visible in the end but at least satisfied with the turn of events; a roll of her eyes to the sleeping D'ven is anything short of endeared. The task of disrobing him enough to make the following morning's waking believable is done in short time, his clothes scattered about on his side of the bed. Next comes the tipping of wine out, a glass set upon its side on the table and finally she strips to bare necessities, her clothes scattered upon her side of D'ven's bed. After such a hard day of work, she slips into bed just beside D'ven and waits for a more natural sleep to claim her.
Players: D'ven and Aivey
Place: Lower Caverns
Mildly suggestive, but nothing more then that.
Lower Caverns
This is the residential hub of the Weyr, an area honeycombed with rooms and tunnels. To the south are doorways that lead to the baths and laundry. The southeast is given over to the tunnel that takes one away from High Reaches. A hallway that leads to residents' private rooms wanders off to the southwest, not far from the door that hides the dormitories. The living caverns are to the north.
As a high traffic area, there is little decoration to be seen. Small plates beside each door or tunnel mark the room's purpose and some effort has been made to soften the coldness of the stone by scattering rugs over the floor, but for the most part this is a thoroughfare rather than a true destination.
Aivey, at this late hour of the night, can be found winding down for the night in that she's heading in from the living cavern, fresh off her evening meal. In what can be termed uncharacteristic, her movements are slow and measured, almost tired. She lingers just long enough to pick up an empty basket left abandoned against the wall. Sliding it against her hip, she continues on her way.
D'ven is stalking through the living caverns, looking really quite awake. Perhaps suprisingly so, for this late. Every so often he glances around, quite obviously looking for someone. When he sees Aivey, he smiles and heads towards her.
Aivey, of course, isn't so tired she shirks duty. Upon spotting D'ven and his smile she returns it in kind but she can't dismiss the wear from her eyes. "Sir," A complacent greeting, complete with the slightest dip of her head in a respectful offering.
"Aivey." D'ven replies with a smile, before it fades to slight concern. "You look very tired. Have you not been sleeping well?" He leans upon the wall as he speaks, more out of a desire to be out of the way and because he's casual like that than any genuine need to lean.
"Been busy, sir. Seems to me there's lots of work to be done and not enough time to be doin' it," Aivey's greeting turns apologetic, the smile lingering with evidence of such. "Surprised you remembered me too, sir. Kinda embarassed-" She doesn't go as far as shuffling her feet, but she does look slightly pleased, "You're needin' somethin', maybe or...?"
"Embaressed, whatever for?" D'ven replies, his own smile somewhat pleased. It's so very cute, and he's rather susceptable to cute. "Well, partly I just felt the need for company. But I did have a very important favor to ask you, yes."
"You, sir," Aivey says, continuing the embarassed spiel with more obviousness at D'ven's smile, "Man like you should be lookin' at other girls. Not me," She ducks her chin to her shoulder, shoots a look at the floor (one Mississippi, two Mississippi) then looks back to D'ven at the mention of a favor. Embarassment turns to eagerness, "Anythin' sir, I'd be right glad to do it."
D'ven laughs softly. "Well, surely that's for men like me to decide? I mean, if we want to look at girls like you, who's to stop us? And whatever do you mean by that?" He gives an easy smile when she looks back up. "I should warn you, it's not your run of the mill favor. And it might be a little...unsafe if people find out you're doing it for me."
"You're right sir," Aivey says with a firm nod, "Ain't my place to tell you that and I'm sorry. Just... just that I was surprised is all, meant nothing more then that." This, it seems, takes a bit of thought to get across for her forehead wrinkles with concentration, then smoothes over with his warning. Maybe entranced by his charm, she says with a stiff setting of her shoulders, "I ain't afraid to try, sir, so you just go ahead and name and I'll do my best."
"Oh, it's alright, you don't have to apologise. We're just talking is all, and if you apologise everytime I disagree with something you say we'll never get anywhere. I've been told I'm a very disagreeable fellow." His tone is light, and he winks to accompany the latter words. Then he becomes more serious. "I've heard from a fairly reliable source that there's a plot afoot to kill one of my friends, and that's something I really can't allow to happen. Evidence indicates it's an inside job. I was hoping you could keep your ears and eyes open, and pass things onto me. I need to know, and I'm not sure how much time we've got till they try something."
"Oh." Aivey's eyes widen and her mouth drops agape just *so*, "Oh sir that's not good, that's not good at all," She gives a half shake of her head, then turns it into a nod, "I'll keep my ears open, sir. I don't know how much good it'll be, but I'll tell you anything I heard." A shaky smile makes its way to her lips, "I won't let you down sir," Then, as if it just occurs to her, "Or your friend. Tell you anything I hear, sir, I will."
"I know you won't, Aivey." D'ven replies with a trusting smile, his voice full of the reassurance he thinks she needs to hear. "I'm sure sooner or later they'll slip up, you'll hear about it, and that will be that. All over."
"Yes sir," Aivey says, chock full of confidence in D'ven's assessment, "They's bound to do that soon and I'll hear them when they do. You'll be the first one I tell, I promise you that." She offers another smile, "People always talk. Sometimes I hear them and I make sure they don't see me." A secret of her trade, shared with D'ven if only because she seems to *like* that reassurance. "Don't know how I'll find you, but I'll be looking."
D'ven smiles. "You can find me easy enough, Aivey. Most of the day I'll be around drilling with my Wing, so we're often out in the bowl. I'm always around somewhere, and I'll pop down here when I can to make sure everything's going well."
"Three C." Aivey repeats with a generous smile, "I remembered, sir." Which means something, by the manner she continues looking at him. "Anything else, sir?"
"Yes, that's right." D'ven sounds rather pleased. "And no, there's nothing else I need to ask of you." He's not going anwhere, however, continuing to lean on the wall.
Aivey continues smiling because he's still here and, well, that's what she does. "Okay, sir," She offers, tightening the corners of that smile. She shifts the basket on her hip next, absently realizing it's still there and still empty, "If... if you'd like, sir, I can put this down and... we could talk or I could get you something to eat or anything else, sir. Not so tired I'd turn someone away, 'specially not someone as nice as you, sir."
D'ven laughs softly, though it's clear he's rather pleased. "That sounds like a very good idea, Aivey. But please, call me D'ven." He shifts slightly on the wall, a subtle movement and a slight turn of his body that puts him a little closer to her.
If anything looks like it's a bad idea, it's his request to be called D'ven. Toward which Aivey frowns and nearly protests, but then he's moving and she's responding to that instead. "Need to put this where it won't get lost," says she as she indicates the basket, "If that's-" A pause, then, "I'll be right back, sir." No D'ven, still sir.
"As you wish, Aivey." D'ven replies with a smile. If she wants to call him sir, she can call him sir. It dosn't really hurt, after all. He nods then, watching her move away.
Aivey's smile remains fixed until she turns. With her back safely to him there's an almost irritated look - fortunate D'ven can't see *that*, but she's soon disappearing into the resident dorms where the basket is presumably stored away. Upon her return she still looks tired, but smiles none the less. "Meela's basket," She needlessly explains, "Second time today she lost it." More credit to her helpfullness, that.
D'ven smiles. "It's a good thing she has a friend like you to find it for her." He replies, before there's a show of concern again. "Are you sure you'd rather not arrange to have something to eat together another time and get some sleep? I don't want to keep you up if you should be in bed."
"Not at all sir," Aivey earnestly offers, even rushing the last few steps seperating them, "Can't send a man like you to get his own meal and... they're likely to push you out of the kitchens. No," Firm, she steps up beside him, "I'll get you a meal sir, it's my job and not yours." She smiles again, because smiling always wins people over.
"Well, if you're sure..." D'ven feigns reluctance for a moment before letting her smile win him over. "And I certainly wouldn't to be pushed out of the kitchen. You're right, it's probably best if I let you handle it."
Aivey laughs now, and it's quite the bubbly little laugh. She steps past D'ven, not being bold enough to require or request his arm as she moves toward the living cavern, leading the way up to the actual entrance where she pauses to let /him/ go first. "You find yourself a seat, sir, and I'll get you the best we got left."
"Thank you, Aivey." D'ven replies with a pathetically grateful look, finding himself a seat in the corner where he can see the whole room from, and settling down to wait.
Pathetic is Aivey's spiel, buck-o! Sometime after disappearing into the kitchens, she re-emerges, food in hand and heads straight for his seat. Aivey does every last thing any good kitchen helper is suppose to do: setting the food before him, handing fork and knife over and settling napkin in lap with the finishing touch being a glass settled before him, the liquid within holding a fruity smell to it. She stands at the side of the table, not yet seating herself as she asks, "Is that good sir, or did you want something else?"
"That's wonderful Aivey." D'ven replies with that easy smile that seems to rarely leave his face. But then, what sort of empty-headed bronzerider /wouldn't/ be smiling while being waited on hand and foot like this. "Please, do sit."
There's that initial burst of almost protest, but Aivey offers another patented dumb-smile before taking a seat and (as primly as she can muster) settling herself before D'ven. Though still looking tired, she at least sounds chipper. "Weren't nothing to get that for you sir, so don't you feel bad or nothin'. Just fill up your stomach and keep doin' what you're doin'. My pleasure to help you like this, it is and I'll do it whenever you need. Just gotta ask so I know it needs being done."
D'ven laughs softly, and his voice takes on a slightly purring quality. "That's wonderful to know." He murmurs, tucking into the food with evident enthusiasm and enjoyment. "This is really good. Thanks." He murmurs in between bites, washing it down with some of the liquid.
"Weren't me who made it, just served it," Aivey says, voice full of proper humility, "Was gonna get you some desert too, but it's all gone," Hirth! "I'll save you some tomorrow, though. And I'll be sure to tell you anything I heard then." Bitting her lip, she falls silent while making a show of /not/ looking at him.
D'ven makes no such show, he knows how this game is played and he plays it well. In between bites of his meal and sips of his win, he studies Aivey with a slightly teasing smile on his lips. "Oh, I'm sure there are other things I could have for afters."
Aivey's own game is flawless. She, again, looks ready to discount his certainty but then the rest of her slow-seeming mind catches up and the not-looking at D'ven turns into looking at D'ven, "If you want, sir, so long as I get to my chores in the morning." Prioritizing here, chores are important after all, "There are other girls. Prettier ones I could find for you." Pretty being the key.
"Oh, getting you to your chores won't be any problem." D'ven replies, his voice still that languid, throaty, purring sound. "And there are other girls, this is true." He dosn't sound very interesed in any of them, however. Indeed, he sounds fairly dismissive of them.
Aivey's is no where near sensual, just slightly perplexed as to why D'ven's preferences aren't with those other girls. Certainly the wrinkled forehead isn't helping matters any either. "Well alright then, sir." She folds her hands atop the table, quite businesslike, "Suppose this means I get to get you breakfast too, sir." Because she's likely expected to at this point, Aivey smiles.
D'ven's preferences are elsewhere because, as far as he believes, Aivey is just a silly lower caverns girl. And he knows how..emotional they can get. This is just the final step in binding her to him and ensuring her loyalty, as far as D'ven is concerned. "I suppose it does, yes." He replies with a smile of his own, coming to the end of the meal.
Aivey looks down at that plate, then to D'ven. "Need to bring these back, sir and then I can meet you back here." Already she's reaching for the empty plate and moving to stand in the next move. It might take her a bit longer to be rid of them - girls and always having to wash their dishes - but she does return. "Sir." A universal "ready when you are" for the bronzerider.
"Shall we, then?" D'ven smiles, offering Aivey his arm as he begins to head out towards the bowl where Teraneth is waiting to take them up to his weyr.
Aivey's steps up beside D'ven, taking his arm and smiling. For good measure she adds a nod and a happy sounding, "Of course, sir." After that it's up to him to lead the way.
Once they're out in the bowl, D'ven moves over to the enormous bronze and holds out his arms to help Aivey up. "It's only a short trip, we're just over there." He smiles with a gesture to one of the ledges.
If you've seen one ledge, you've seen them all, or so the non-committal 'mhm' from Aivey suggests. The assistance upward is taken, for she's short and girly and it's a man's job to do what D'ven offers. Once settled she's sure to smile down at him, "Thank you, sir. Right good of you to help me up here."
Once Aivey is settled, Teraneth takes them up to the ledge. It's a big place, but then it would have to be for the bronze to able to live there. Helping Aivey down with a smile, D'ven leads the way into his home.
Aivey is led, because she's quite good at being led. Appropriate awe and comments are filtered - my this place is big, and ooh look at that, looks downright proper it does - anything to bolster the ego of her male counterpart. She keeps in step with him, never straying too far or taking her attention off of him for long. Indeed she's watching him closely, almost as though she were waiting for something more to happen then what D'ven expects.
"Do you want something to drink?" D'ven offers, already pulling out bottles and glasses. "I make it myself, you know. I'm told it's really quite good." He smiles, though the smile is a tad vacant. Really vacant. As though his mind were just starting to shut down without warning.
As the drinks come out, Aivey visibly relaxes. From her seat on the edge of the bed, she taps the space next to her and nods with enthusiasm, not speaking but giving a coy smile that's intended to lure him closer. From that point forward, Aivey is quite attentive to D'ven while she sips at her drink; engaging him in conversation, more drinking and more flirting.
The wine might seem to disappear faster at that point, the world a little more blurry and things hazy before D'ven will find himself lured into an unnatural sleep, compliments of that special little dinner prepared just for him. Aivey leaves him where he falls, casting a curious look around the weyr before slipping away from the bronzerider's side to do a little inspecting on her own. She committs no more then a handful of minutes to her search, coming away with nothing visible in the end but at least satisfied with the turn of events; a roll of her eyes to the sleeping D'ven is anything short of endeared. The task of disrobing him enough to make the following morning's waking believable is done in short time, his clothes scattered about on his side of the bed. Next comes the tipping of wine out, a glass set upon its side on the table and finally she strips to bare necessities, her clothes scattered upon her side of D'ven's bed. After such a hard day of work, she slips into bed just beside D'ven and waits for a more natural sleep to claim her.