Apologies and explanations
Who: W'ton and Hattie with a bit of sneakery and pride from Dasarth and Elaruth
Where: Elaruth's stolen ledge
When: End of the afternoon on day 9, month 8, turn 19
What: Elaruth and Dasarth do as they thought to and their riders wind up on the same ledge with no way down. W'ton gets slapped, but they talk anyway. When they move inside it's too dark to talk.
There's enough sunshine left after the weyrlings are dismissed for dinner that a number of them have taken to sunbathing in the evening. Elaruth just has to do it her own way and has taken to sunbathing on her stolen ledge, only this time - surprise! - her rider got invited along. This should mean both dragon and rider on appropriated ledge, but actually means Hattie left up there all by herself whilst her queen lazily drifts towards the feeding pens... and misses not only every herdbeast within, but even the pens themselves, to settle nearby. Luckily - for Elaruth - Hattie doesn't seem to have noticed that there's no dining occurring and sits just beside the entrance to the empty weyr, one leg curled under her, one stretched out before her.
Sadly for Hattie her enjoyable reprieve is about to end. At first it seems like just another weyrling is out for a little extra flying time. With most of the class in the air by now it's not unusual to see weyrling pairs flying around the bowl whenever there's free time. This particular shadow however grows larger as the dragon veers towards the ledge where Hattie's currently abandoned. If she looks up she'll be able to see it's a bronze and since he's coming down this particular one won't be able to hide his stunning crimson coloring under his wings. Not that he'd like to. The landing Dasarth makes is pretty rough, but better than before. It's likely his rider did not get a new bruise at least to add to the old. Unaware there's someone else on the ledge W'ton climbs down, dropping to the ground with a sigh. Before he can do anything else his dragon makes a hop, skip and is back in the air and heading downward. "Well, if that ain't a fine thing," gets mumbled to himself. Too busy watching his bronze abandon him he still hasn't noticed he has company.
And isn't, "Oh, fuck..." murmured quietly just such a fine greeting? Hattie doesn't get up and looks maybe a bit sorry that those words escaped her, but she doesn't look up at W'ton, more in his general direction and around him. That is, before she snaps, "Elaruth!" like she just can't keep that exclamation in her mind and begins to begins to clamber to her feet. There's not much threatening that can be done from so high up and so isolated a place, but she's sure going to try, even if her still-injured ankle won't quite co-operate.
Feel the love. Not that W'ton heard the greeting, but he certainly can hear when she snaps out her dragon's name like that and /now/ he knows not only that he's not alone, but who he's with. His turn away from where Dasarth went is slow like he's not entirely positive he wants to do it. "Sorry," is mumbled just loud enough for it to carry across the space of the ledge. "Didn't know anyone was here. He just said he was hungry and would be right back. I, ah, figured no one'd notice if I weren't around for a bit." Down his eyes go to look at her foot and he steps forward like maybe he's going to try to help somehow, but then stops. Because, you know, fighting and all.
Hattie snorts. How unladylike. "An almost exact replica of the story I received a little while ago," she mutters. The wall will help and it'll do, for it gets clung to until the weyrling is balanced and she half-hops her way across to near the edge of the ledge. "Elaruth!" She sure can yell, but up here her voice gets carried away on the breeze and it's likely it barely carries to the next weyr over, let alone down into the bowl and the little queen peering smugly - Elaruth, smug? - up. "Shardit." Failure, so she'll just sit right where she finds herself, with her back to W'ton. "You weren't to know. I didn't. We just have to wait."
Just in case it were not perfectly clear by now Dasarth has found his sunning spot right by where Elaruth has taken her rest. "That sharding..." But if W'ton's angry he's concealing it pretty well behind an amused chuckle. The sound fades when he sees her sitting with his back to him though. It's probably good she misses the look he gives her, but it's gone swiftly enough so the loneliness is just nothing at all. "It was pretty clever of them," he tells her back as he continues to stand there as he slides his hands into his pockets. "You have to give them that." Said even more softly like he's not quite sure he wants his words to make it to where she sits, but at the same time he cannot help but talk to her. Staring at her longer he finally says, "I guess I'll go sit inside. You were out here first." How dejected he sounds. Poor lost little puppy!
It's lucky that there's no-one on the receiving end of the look Hattie produces upon processing his tone of voice. Someone might have spontaneously combusted otherwise. She doesn't respond immediately and when she does it's with a sharp, "Come here. Now," in her best 'not a woman to be messed with' voice. That's all he gets. No look over her shoulder, no sigh, no compassion. Not that he can see with her facing away like that. Her hands move from her lap and go to plant a little way behind her, flat on the rock surface of the ledge, to balance her weight or relax somewhat.
Ohh. A bossy woman. Normally W'ton would make some comment about that. Or about her being bossy in particular, but he's a little smarter than that. Certainly the expression on his face makes it clear he expected nothing of that from her as he sits down a careful distance away once he's facing her. No punching at least at this distance! No matter how he feels he's sitting with his back straight. Then his fingers drop to his legs where they're crossed and plucks at a thread thinking of coming loose. Likely to for sure if he plays with it.
Hattie must catch where he perches in her peripheral vision and still doesn't turn her head to look directly at him. "Closer," she insists, in that same voice. She stretches a little and leans more heavily on her hands, face tipped up to the sky - maybe she's actually trying to sunbathe. Her eyes close and she counts an imaginary beat with the one foot that will move without lacing pain through her. Oh so very relaxed.
Well, now W'ton isn't so sure he wants to move. Being hit by anyone's no fun and he's still got a bruise from Rhodya after all. Women are dangerous. But then again he is no coward so with a suppressed sigh he moves over until he's just sitting a couple of inches away. His voice may not be working, but his sure are. It's not his fault though because there she is stretching out like that and his breath catches for a moment as he gets caught up in watching. Hey, the time since he's gotten anything just keeps getting longer. Clearing his throat quickly he shifts his gaze away. At nothing at all out over the ledge.
Hattie still doesn't look, but there must be rustling or scrabbling or /some/ sound as he moves closer, that alerts her to the fact that, well, the target's in range. She sits dead upright all at once, eyes open, and the slap that's aimed his way seems to come from nowhere. Whether it lands or not, she barks, "Snap out of it. Enough already." A breath taken and she ploughs on, "You're /not/ an idiot, so stop acting like you don't care. Plenty of actual idiots out there without you wanting to join the ranks. You're better than that."
Even expecting to be hit doesn't prepare someone for it. W'ton's reaction is not even really stunned since likely he figures he's earned at least a slap from her. Neither does he seem like there was any inclination at all for him to do anything back. Hands don't move, nothing about him moves, and he just stares at her a moment before saying, "I'd really appreciate not being hit again." Calm as ever like he's just remarking about how he doesn't want mashed tubers for dinner, thank you.
One generally doesn't receive an utterly flabbergasted look from Hattie, it's usually either disgust or irritation and with not much difference between such expressions at that. The hand that struck the bronzerider stays midair as she stares and stares and eventually demands, "What's happened to you?". Her other hand goes to rummage around in one of her pockets and a small section of hide is unceremoniously flung at him. "You need my help? /This/ is me helping! I don't know how else to..." Fingers curl and uncurl from fists. "Fight back, for shards' sake!"
"You look so cute when you don't know what to say," W'ton says all too easily. There's even a twitch of his lips upward into an almost smile after he says it. The near smile is almost a dare for her to do something about it. "You want me to hit you?" he asks then sounding a little concerned. "I don't hit women, Hattie. Shells, I don't even like to hit men." Lover, not fighter. Also he's a lousy fighter. One hand twitches like it wants to grab at one of her hands, but he's a little smarter than that. "I thought you might at least give me a chance to try to explain before you started throwing punches." But he's still more amused sounding than anything else.
"I don't want you to hit me, I want you to tell me to go drop off the edge of this ledge or something with more curses than real words; show me you've not just... given up." While Hattie's answer started somewhere nearing furious, it ends at something more like scared and she looks away, out at the evening sky. Interesting clouds. Interesting colours. Gaze still fixed there, she says, "I ain't thrown an actual punch yet, so you've got the time. Floor's yours if you want it." Her version of amused isn't even half as good as his and deteriorates even more when she adds, "But you're on a clock." Well, it would have been a better joke were her voice co-operating.
"Oh, is that what you want me to do?" W'ton asks in an unapologetically suggestive tone. It's hard to keep him from taking that road though. But he's not going to dwell on that because he sure doesn't want to be hit again. Well, he does pat his lap and ask, "Want to get comfy for story time?" It is always worth a try! But he's just saying it not expecting anything from it except maybe another slap. "I know I fucked up." There! Curse word! He even grins at her to show he's using them like she wanted. "It's not like I'm not aware of it. It's just...I don't know how to explain it, but I guess I'll give it a shot. You know I was heir to Two Trees and while they're not a big hold they're a proud one. And if there's one thing their current lord was proud of it was his first son. I know, looking back, I was a spoiled brat. They let me get away with whatever I wanted and gave me anything I asked for that they could. One turn I had three tutors fired because they kept keeping me long for lessons and there was more interesting things to do than bother with that." Shaking his head to act as a pause he gathers more words before speaking. "I thought I was great. Thought everyone thought I was great and not even getting in trouble over Olviana was so bad. I left, after all. I walked away. I was sure they'd send for me. Beg me to come back because the hold couldn't get by without me. They didn't and I adjusted to being here and while there were plenty of women who thought I was great enough it wasn't the same and I eventually came to realize it." There he does stop for a moment just to be sure she's not asleep at his boring story.
Maybe he doesn't think she'll do it, and it certainly doesn't look like there's much hope of it when she shoots him a narrow-eyed glare for a split second, but the odd thing is that Hattie lounges to lean back against him, sort of lap-wards. Whilst he speaks, she keeps her eyes idly focused elsewhere and not on him for most of the time, in-case it might put him off. When he stops, they angle up to settle on him again and she nods only once: go on. No jumping in with an argument or snarky remark when she's likely overdue for one. Just listening.
There is a lot that was said worthy of a snarky comment after all. W'ton might even have allowed it since she did lean back that bit. It's harder to concentrate, of course, with her doing that, but a man must persevere! (Also no pun intended there.) The moment of silence is broken by a sigh before he continues on. "And it's all well and good to say you adjust to not suddenly being the center of everyone's world, but it's sure hard. And, I'm not dumb enough to think I actually was. The holders put up with me because they had no choice because my parents made them. But after all of that...just when I thought maybe I was going to truly get over it here comes Dasarth. And, well, he thinks he's great. He thinks I'm great. He's got a sharding ego bigger than mine. It wasn't...It wasn't him getting ahold of me, Hattie. It was just me. I'd like to say it was in some ways. That I just let him get too much control, you know? But it wasn't. It was just me with a voice in my head going on about how great we were and it was like being at home again and it was easy enough to fall into that belief. It's not something I'm proud of and it's not something I'll live down anytime soon, but I just... I wanted you to know. I just wanted to be better." Shaking his head he nearly grins before adding, "And I wanted to not embarrass you. I thought if I worked hard and just tried to be the best and was just... I didn't want people looking at you thinking you were great and all, but you sure were fooled by a loser. And I am /not/ trying to blame you. It's not your fault."
Comforting at the best of times, Hattie is not. So speaks her response, though she tries to keep her voice quiet and away from anything that sounds too harsh. "There's a middle ground. You need to find it. There's something between telling everyone you're right all the time-" her lips twitch: who else might be guilty of that? "-and saying that you don't give a damn." She sits up a little, enough to peer round and up at him properly. "You /do/ give a damn, don't you?" she demands. "You better sharding well do, I tell you." Long fingers press to the bridge of her nose and she shakes her head. "/Don't/ do things for me. Please. Elaruth is still in her 'I can't embarrass her' mindset and I couldn't bear it if I'd..." She looks away, suddenly and sharply, blush shading her cheeks darker. "Done that to you too."
It probably speaks volumes that W'ton's not hanging out with a woman who's comforting, but thankfully there's no mindhealer around to dissect that for him. "I know that," he says first partly because he does and partly because it's what a know it all would say. So there's a little bit of humor in there obvious enough to any listener. "I give a damn, Hattie. It just got to be too much. I just needed to pull back from it all and start over. I don't expect that to make sense." What he does now is try to get her fingers. They're right there after all on her nose. If he can do that they'll get brought to his lips for a kiss. If he cannot then his hand just falls down to his side. "You haven't done anything to me, Hattie." The words are firm and he means them and it comes through. Then he's leaning forward just a bit though so his mouth is near her ear. "Well, you've done something to me. Don't suppose that weyr behind us has a bed so I can show you?" Hey, he's going to try. Even if he gets slapped for it. But slapped or scolded or no he just carries on with, "Told you it wasn't your fault and it's the truth. I don't want to embarrass you, but it's not because of anything you've said or done. Shells, woman. I don't want you to embarrass me. To that end have you considered showing a little more cleavage?"
Hattie allows the capture of her fingers and tries to look stern and disapproving about it at the same time. Not very successfully. She asks, very seriously, "Do you still need my help?" in a manner that just screams he will be thrown from the ledge if his response is anything less than just as serious. No slap and no scolding, instead a rather thoughtful look from the goldrider and she gives him a certain look that might say that she's at least taken the idea of investigating the weyr seriously. "To you or to the men of the weyr in general? I suppose I should say girls of the weyr as well, since I recall that's something you've an interest in." Of the cleavage remark, just as stern and just as unsuccessful as before. But then her expression alters completely and she vehemently utters, "There've been days when I've hated you these past few sevens. I don't generally hate people. Find them irritating, sure, but having hated you must mean something..."
"Need your help with something I don't want to do," W'ton says with a soft shake of his head. "Need your help not...getting too far off track. But only if you want to give it. Not asking you to babysit me, but if /you/ feel I need a talking to then tell me. Just...just don't do it on the behalf of someone else." At least for now. When she's all bossy things'll be different obviously. "As for the men, and women, of the weyr. To be honest I don't much care what they look at so long as they keep their hands to themselves." His hand releases hers because it's decided to curve around her waist. Unmoving, of course, but there it is. "I do need you, Hattie. Not just your help, but you. I've been a right ass and I know it and I don't even know how to apologize, but whatever I have to do to make it right between us I will. As for hating me... we don't hate people we don't care a lot for you know. One of my tutors explained it once. Something about the energy to hate someone is the same amount as it takes to love them. But he was a bit of a flake. Speaking of flakes." He lets out a sigh before saying, without any enthusiasm at all, "I could use someone willing to go to Rhodya and ask her to listen to me. Or at least not throw something at me when I talked." But then he's a little more cheerful, well, sly, as he says, "She gave me a right big bruise. Want to kiss it for me so it don't hurt so much?"
"Want to kiss /me/ to make up for being an ass all this time?" Hattie shoots back, one eyebrow raised. Better be one heck of a kiss, says that glint in her eyes. The time isn't really all that long in the grand scheme of things, but ignoring someone when in such close quarters for even a short time is an effort that makes it seem longer. "You always need a talking to," she murmurs just as she nods to agree and that's that. She lets the arm round her waist stay right where it is and if she inches a little closer, she pretends she hasn't noticed at all. "I won't talk to Rhodya for you," she states. "I won't. You're going to find her and you're going to apologize profusely for whatever you did and you're going to duck whatever she throws at you, because I suspect she has every right to throw whatever she likes at you." A sigh and she closes her eyes. "I ain't playing messenger again, Win." Down in the bowl, now that she must sense that Fort isn't going to be imminently down one pale-gold young queen, Elaruth curls up next to Dasarth in the sun looking rather pleased with herself. Look, she didn't back down! She did something good! Isn't she grown-up?
"Not asking you to /talk/ to her for me," W'ton clarifies as he kisses the top of her head. Surely that's not the kiss that'll make up for it all. "I just need someone she'll listen to that'll ask her to /listen/to me. Cause last time I tried she just threw something at me." It was entirely the brownrider's fault! Entirely! Well, mostly. "And for the record, sweetheart, that's what I mean. Here you are saying I got nothing but what I deserved and you don't know what happened. /That's/ what pisses me off." Not that he sounds too pissed off right now, but there's a bit of warning in his tone despite all that. But before she gets a chance to say anything he's making his move and it helps that he's already got an arm around her. Not that she doesn't have time to object, but short of a punch he'll have her in his lap and being kissed properly. While he's busy doing that Dasarth is letting Elaruth get all comfy before making his move and snaking his tail over hers while rewarding her grown-up-ness with plenty of praise and encouragement. She's tha man!
"Told you I was lousy at helping," Hattie warns in a pause for breath. Well, she did tell him to kiss her so there's really not much objection she can - or apparently wants to - make. She shakes her head a fraction and aims to rest it against his. "I don't mean /you/, you know," she tries to explain. "I... men... All I've ever heard is men doing women more wrong than good. And I'm going to take a girl's side because I'm a girl and..." So the explaining doesn't really go so well and probably isn't even what she means. "I don't like letting men too close. I don't like a man doing better at something than me. But you..." Because that'll make it all better, right. She seems to realize how all that sounds and physically withdraws, goes to slink away. Elaruth does the opposite and twists her tail around Dasarth's, the very tip of hers waving like a little flag. Victory! Or something like it. Maybe. And whilst she's doing that, she'll even lean a little more against him too.
"I'm horrid at everything?" W'ton teases with a quiet chuckle. "You don't have to worry about me doing better than you and Hattie? I understand that there's men out there not worth a spit, but there's women out there the same. Just...try not to take out the evils of a whole gender on me." But then before he can say something else she's trying to slink away and he's trying to stop her. "Don't go, honey," he whispers as he tries to keep her near him. "Stay with me. You don't have to do anything, you know. We can just sit here and I'm not mad at you. How's your ankle? Is it bothering you? Want me to rub it for you?" The offer is made in innocence. There's nothing in his tone to make it more than it sounds. Down in the bowl Dasarth's doing his best not to preen at having Elaruth there and wanting to lean against him. He's just there to support her and his mind is a little dim like maybe he's going to nap. Which makes it easier for W'ton up above to ask, "Or we could check on a bed inside? I could really show you how much I've missed you." It's not possible to be innocent for long!
Hattie pauses mid-slink, like a feline caught doing something she shouldn't, and her head drops down to rest on his shoulder. "That's not what I meant. Came out in the wrong order," she mutters, voice almost gone, quite possibly mortified or just plain upset that it did. "Don't mind having you close. What I meant." Fewer words, less chance to mess them up? "Hurts," she says of her ankle. "What you get for trying to be clever, though. Can't let it slow me down." But then there's only so fast a person can hobble. Beside Dasarth, Elaruth fails to notice any attempts at not-preening, for the sunshine and the long day combined are making her begin to switch off too. Her tail-tip slowly loses momentum and drops lazily back to settle alongside the bronze's. "I've not been inside. Could just be a floor and no bed," Hattie teases, still quiet.
"That's ok. How's about from now on I just don't hear what you say and just listen to your voice?" W'ton asks in a teasing tone. He drops another kiss on the top of her head and grins. "And I'm sorry about your ankle. You need to be more careful, sweetie. Or at least don't hurt yourself when we're not talking so I can't carry you around. Ohh. I could carry you right now." His brows waggle as he laughs. "There is such a thing as running so fast you get ahead of yourself though you know. You need to be careful." Then all is well for the world since the dragons seem to be happy to snooze in the sun. "Want me to carry you inside?" The arm around her waist tightens just a little bit as he adds, "To see if there's a bed. Or just a floor. You know just a floor doesn't bother me." Then again suspended in midair by his teeth would likely not slow him down at all when it came to getting naked. It's a gift. "The children are sleeping, dear," he whispers with a laugh.
"Now /that/ is a stereotypical male statement," Hattie declares, maybe just to see if he is listening, but then all that about the floor registers and she feigns shock. "/I/ care if it's just a floor!" she exclaims, balance unfortunately for her more towards laughter and less - even feigned - outrage. Were her ankle not busted, odds are she'd stand and drag him after her at such a suggestion as being carried anywhere, but it looks like W'ton is going to get his way today. Yet to hide the fact that she's quite embarrassed about the whole thing, she overplays it, loops her arms around his shoulders and puts on her best damsel in distress voice. "Oh, it's so far. I won't make it!" And then ruins it by laughing.
"You're so cute when you're pretending to be mad," W'ton says as he pretends like he never heard her at all when she made her comment on males. Again his arm tightens around her and he shakes his head. "Then I promise, solemnly, that if there is only a floor you can be on top," he tells her in complete seriousness. When he stands up he lets out a groan. "Shells, woman! What's with the weight you've put on?" He can't exactly duck while holding her so if she slaps him again he's just going to have to take it. "You're not going to make it? I might not make it. Oh, good thing for you me tough man. Carry much weight." If she overplays it so does he.
He really is heading for another slap, but what's a slap compared to the threat of, "I'll wake the children..." combined with a deadly smile? Hattie might mutter something about her knees and that floor though it's likely mostly inaudible. "Come on, you're supposed to be a man, quit whining," she says and unloops one arm to swat at him. Belatedly she realizes that yes, the sun is setting and no, nobody thought to bring glows. Nobody thought they'd be stranded. "Shells, it's dark in there..."
The threat and the smile make him stumble just a little, but not enough to cause any problems. "Yes, dear. No whining, dear," W'ton says in a deadpan tone of voice. But he stops at the entrance and peers inside. "Now I'm scared," he says in a quivering voice. "The dark! Oh, wait. You one of those women who likes to watch?" Leaning against the wall he plants a kiss on her forehead. "If you don't want to do this we don't have to. I could find my way in the dark though. I'm a man. I could hunt out a bed in there with my eyes closed. And I can certainly feel my way around with you." Brows waggle as his voice gets more lascivious. Can we say over the top?
It just gets better and better! "I'm not like /those/ women," Hattie insists, perhaps genuinely aggravated in that moment. He gets a proper kiss if only to shut him up and get him to stop using that voice. "Stop giving me chances to run for it, will you? Find a bed, find a wall, find the sharding floor if you must." Not like those women? Where went her decorum, then? "If anyone ever finds out I just said that, you are a dead man," she threatens. As much as she can threaten someone whilst in their arms in the dark.
Baby steps get taken inside because, well, it's dark! What ruins a moment more than a stubbed toe? Oh, dropping the person you're carrying! But that doesn't happen. "I promise if I fall I'll go backwards," W'ton mumbles as he inches forward another little bit. "I promise I'll never say a word to anyone. Hattie, sweetheart, baby, I'm not that kind of guy." And despite the deliberately sleazy words his tone is not. After all she might get the wrong idea. Bump goes his toe and he grins in the dark. "Shall we see if this is a bed? Could be a couch. Don't think it's a wall." And even though up til now he's been pretty darn calm those teenage hormones are beginning to kick in and he sounds eager to just find a spot already.
Hattie wriggles - which probably doesn't do the bronzerider any favours and she knows it - and leans to stretch one arm out ahead of them. Not a wall. When her fingers brush something that feels like a fur, she murmurs, "Let me go," and if he does, she's quite happy to fall the short way to explore. Bar jarring her ankle, which is more than a possibility. A faint hiss and she reaches again: fur, fur, linen, fur, pillow! "Bed," she confirms. "Or a giant couch." Her voice is a little further away the next time she speaks, so presumably it is actually a bed she's just crawled across. "Wall. Bed by wall." Silence and absolute stillness before, "Aren't you going to try and find me?" drifts back to him.
If she wants down he's not going to keep her up. There's a crude joke in there, but W'ton wouldn't ever say it. "I like a woman willing to do all the work," he says with a low laugh. "You just find what we need then." But then she's asking him that question and he's more than eager to get to finding her. "Your wish is my command, my lady." When he does finally catch up to her there's a whole list of things in his head he's got planned to do. To her, with her, semantics. It's more than enough to keep them there though until she wants to leave. And maybe a little after.
Where: Elaruth's stolen ledge
When: End of the afternoon on day 9, month 8, turn 19
What: Elaruth and Dasarth do as they thought to and their riders wind up on the same ledge with no way down. W'ton gets slapped, but they talk anyway. When they move inside it's too dark to talk.
There's enough sunshine left after the weyrlings are dismissed for dinner that a number of them have taken to sunbathing in the evening. Elaruth just has to do it her own way and has taken to sunbathing on her stolen ledge, only this time - surprise! - her rider got invited along. This should mean both dragon and rider on appropriated ledge, but actually means Hattie left up there all by herself whilst her queen lazily drifts towards the feeding pens... and misses not only every herdbeast within, but even the pens themselves, to settle nearby. Luckily - for Elaruth - Hattie doesn't seem to have noticed that there's no dining occurring and sits just beside the entrance to the empty weyr, one leg curled under her, one stretched out before her.
Sadly for Hattie her enjoyable reprieve is about to end. At first it seems like just another weyrling is out for a little extra flying time. With most of the class in the air by now it's not unusual to see weyrling pairs flying around the bowl whenever there's free time. This particular shadow however grows larger as the dragon veers towards the ledge where Hattie's currently abandoned. If she looks up she'll be able to see it's a bronze and since he's coming down this particular one won't be able to hide his stunning crimson coloring under his wings. Not that he'd like to. The landing Dasarth makes is pretty rough, but better than before. It's likely his rider did not get a new bruise at least to add to the old. Unaware there's someone else on the ledge W'ton climbs down, dropping to the ground with a sigh. Before he can do anything else his dragon makes a hop, skip and is back in the air and heading downward. "Well, if that ain't a fine thing," gets mumbled to himself. Too busy watching his bronze abandon him he still hasn't noticed he has company.
And isn't, "Oh, fuck..." murmured quietly just such a fine greeting? Hattie doesn't get up and looks maybe a bit sorry that those words escaped her, but she doesn't look up at W'ton, more in his general direction and around him. That is, before she snaps, "Elaruth!" like she just can't keep that exclamation in her mind and begins to begins to clamber to her feet. There's not much threatening that can be done from so high up and so isolated a place, but she's sure going to try, even if her still-injured ankle won't quite co-operate.
Feel the love. Not that W'ton heard the greeting, but he certainly can hear when she snaps out her dragon's name like that and /now/ he knows not only that he's not alone, but who he's with. His turn away from where Dasarth went is slow like he's not entirely positive he wants to do it. "Sorry," is mumbled just loud enough for it to carry across the space of the ledge. "Didn't know anyone was here. He just said he was hungry and would be right back. I, ah, figured no one'd notice if I weren't around for a bit." Down his eyes go to look at her foot and he steps forward like maybe he's going to try to help somehow, but then stops. Because, you know, fighting and all.
Hattie snorts. How unladylike. "An almost exact replica of the story I received a little while ago," she mutters. The wall will help and it'll do, for it gets clung to until the weyrling is balanced and she half-hops her way across to near the edge of the ledge. "Elaruth!" She sure can yell, but up here her voice gets carried away on the breeze and it's likely it barely carries to the next weyr over, let alone down into the bowl and the little queen peering smugly - Elaruth, smug? - up. "Shardit." Failure, so she'll just sit right where she finds herself, with her back to W'ton. "You weren't to know. I didn't. We just have to wait."
Just in case it were not perfectly clear by now Dasarth has found his sunning spot right by where Elaruth has taken her rest. "That sharding..." But if W'ton's angry he's concealing it pretty well behind an amused chuckle. The sound fades when he sees her sitting with his back to him though. It's probably good she misses the look he gives her, but it's gone swiftly enough so the loneliness is just nothing at all. "It was pretty clever of them," he tells her back as he continues to stand there as he slides his hands into his pockets. "You have to give them that." Said even more softly like he's not quite sure he wants his words to make it to where she sits, but at the same time he cannot help but talk to her. Staring at her longer he finally says, "I guess I'll go sit inside. You were out here first." How dejected he sounds. Poor lost little puppy!
It's lucky that there's no-one on the receiving end of the look Hattie produces upon processing his tone of voice. Someone might have spontaneously combusted otherwise. She doesn't respond immediately and when she does it's with a sharp, "Come here. Now," in her best 'not a woman to be messed with' voice. That's all he gets. No look over her shoulder, no sigh, no compassion. Not that he can see with her facing away like that. Her hands move from her lap and go to plant a little way behind her, flat on the rock surface of the ledge, to balance her weight or relax somewhat.
Ohh. A bossy woman. Normally W'ton would make some comment about that. Or about her being bossy in particular, but he's a little smarter than that. Certainly the expression on his face makes it clear he expected nothing of that from her as he sits down a careful distance away once he's facing her. No punching at least at this distance! No matter how he feels he's sitting with his back straight. Then his fingers drop to his legs where they're crossed and plucks at a thread thinking of coming loose. Likely to for sure if he plays with it.
Hattie must catch where he perches in her peripheral vision and still doesn't turn her head to look directly at him. "Closer," she insists, in that same voice. She stretches a little and leans more heavily on her hands, face tipped up to the sky - maybe she's actually trying to sunbathe. Her eyes close and she counts an imaginary beat with the one foot that will move without lacing pain through her. Oh so very relaxed.
Well, now W'ton isn't so sure he wants to move. Being hit by anyone's no fun and he's still got a bruise from Rhodya after all. Women are dangerous. But then again he is no coward so with a suppressed sigh he moves over until he's just sitting a couple of inches away. His voice may not be working, but his sure are. It's not his fault though because there she is stretching out like that and his breath catches for a moment as he gets caught up in watching. Hey, the time since he's gotten anything just keeps getting longer. Clearing his throat quickly he shifts his gaze away. At nothing at all out over the ledge.
Hattie still doesn't look, but there must be rustling or scrabbling or /some/ sound as he moves closer, that alerts her to the fact that, well, the target's in range. She sits dead upright all at once, eyes open, and the slap that's aimed his way seems to come from nowhere. Whether it lands or not, she barks, "Snap out of it. Enough already." A breath taken and she ploughs on, "You're /not/ an idiot, so stop acting like you don't care. Plenty of actual idiots out there without you wanting to join the ranks. You're better than that."
Even expecting to be hit doesn't prepare someone for it. W'ton's reaction is not even really stunned since likely he figures he's earned at least a slap from her. Neither does he seem like there was any inclination at all for him to do anything back. Hands don't move, nothing about him moves, and he just stares at her a moment before saying, "I'd really appreciate not being hit again." Calm as ever like he's just remarking about how he doesn't want mashed tubers for dinner, thank you.
One generally doesn't receive an utterly flabbergasted look from Hattie, it's usually either disgust or irritation and with not much difference between such expressions at that. The hand that struck the bronzerider stays midair as she stares and stares and eventually demands, "What's happened to you?". Her other hand goes to rummage around in one of her pockets and a small section of hide is unceremoniously flung at him. "You need my help? /This/ is me helping! I don't know how else to..." Fingers curl and uncurl from fists. "Fight back, for shards' sake!"
"You look so cute when you don't know what to say," W'ton says all too easily. There's even a twitch of his lips upward into an almost smile after he says it. The near smile is almost a dare for her to do something about it. "You want me to hit you?" he asks then sounding a little concerned. "I don't hit women, Hattie. Shells, I don't even like to hit men." Lover, not fighter. Also he's a lousy fighter. One hand twitches like it wants to grab at one of her hands, but he's a little smarter than that. "I thought you might at least give me a chance to try to explain before you started throwing punches." But he's still more amused sounding than anything else.
"I don't want you to hit me, I want you to tell me to go drop off the edge of this ledge or something with more curses than real words; show me you've not just... given up." While Hattie's answer started somewhere nearing furious, it ends at something more like scared and she looks away, out at the evening sky. Interesting clouds. Interesting colours. Gaze still fixed there, she says, "I ain't thrown an actual punch yet, so you've got the time. Floor's yours if you want it." Her version of amused isn't even half as good as his and deteriorates even more when she adds, "But you're on a clock." Well, it would have been a better joke were her voice co-operating.
"Oh, is that what you want me to do?" W'ton asks in an unapologetically suggestive tone. It's hard to keep him from taking that road though. But he's not going to dwell on that because he sure doesn't want to be hit again. Well, he does pat his lap and ask, "Want to get comfy for story time?" It is always worth a try! But he's just saying it not expecting anything from it except maybe another slap. "I know I fucked up." There! Curse word! He even grins at her to show he's using them like she wanted. "It's not like I'm not aware of it. It's just...I don't know how to explain it, but I guess I'll give it a shot. You know I was heir to Two Trees and while they're not a big hold they're a proud one. And if there's one thing their current lord was proud of it was his first son. I know, looking back, I was a spoiled brat. They let me get away with whatever I wanted and gave me anything I asked for that they could. One turn I had three tutors fired because they kept keeping me long for lessons and there was more interesting things to do than bother with that." Shaking his head to act as a pause he gathers more words before speaking. "I thought I was great. Thought everyone thought I was great and not even getting in trouble over Olviana was so bad. I left, after all. I walked away. I was sure they'd send for me. Beg me to come back because the hold couldn't get by without me. They didn't and I adjusted to being here and while there were plenty of women who thought I was great enough it wasn't the same and I eventually came to realize it." There he does stop for a moment just to be sure she's not asleep at his boring story.
Maybe he doesn't think she'll do it, and it certainly doesn't look like there's much hope of it when she shoots him a narrow-eyed glare for a split second, but the odd thing is that Hattie lounges to lean back against him, sort of lap-wards. Whilst he speaks, she keeps her eyes idly focused elsewhere and not on him for most of the time, in-case it might put him off. When he stops, they angle up to settle on him again and she nods only once: go on. No jumping in with an argument or snarky remark when she's likely overdue for one. Just listening.
There is a lot that was said worthy of a snarky comment after all. W'ton might even have allowed it since she did lean back that bit. It's harder to concentrate, of course, with her doing that, but a man must persevere! (Also no pun intended there.) The moment of silence is broken by a sigh before he continues on. "And it's all well and good to say you adjust to not suddenly being the center of everyone's world, but it's sure hard. And, I'm not dumb enough to think I actually was. The holders put up with me because they had no choice because my parents made them. But after all of that...just when I thought maybe I was going to truly get over it here comes Dasarth. And, well, he thinks he's great. He thinks I'm great. He's got a sharding ego bigger than mine. It wasn't...It wasn't him getting ahold of me, Hattie. It was just me. I'd like to say it was in some ways. That I just let him get too much control, you know? But it wasn't. It was just me with a voice in my head going on about how great we were and it was like being at home again and it was easy enough to fall into that belief. It's not something I'm proud of and it's not something I'll live down anytime soon, but I just... I wanted you to know. I just wanted to be better." Shaking his head he nearly grins before adding, "And I wanted to not embarrass you. I thought if I worked hard and just tried to be the best and was just... I didn't want people looking at you thinking you were great and all, but you sure were fooled by a loser. And I am /not/ trying to blame you. It's not your fault."
Comforting at the best of times, Hattie is not. So speaks her response, though she tries to keep her voice quiet and away from anything that sounds too harsh. "There's a middle ground. You need to find it. There's something between telling everyone you're right all the time-" her lips twitch: who else might be guilty of that? "-and saying that you don't give a damn." She sits up a little, enough to peer round and up at him properly. "You /do/ give a damn, don't you?" she demands. "You better sharding well do, I tell you." Long fingers press to the bridge of her nose and she shakes her head. "/Don't/ do things for me. Please. Elaruth is still in her 'I can't embarrass her' mindset and I couldn't bear it if I'd..." She looks away, suddenly and sharply, blush shading her cheeks darker. "Done that to you too."
It probably speaks volumes that W'ton's not hanging out with a woman who's comforting, but thankfully there's no mindhealer around to dissect that for him. "I know that," he says first partly because he does and partly because it's what a know it all would say. So there's a little bit of humor in there obvious enough to any listener. "I give a damn, Hattie. It just got to be too much. I just needed to pull back from it all and start over. I don't expect that to make sense." What he does now is try to get her fingers. They're right there after all on her nose. If he can do that they'll get brought to his lips for a kiss. If he cannot then his hand just falls down to his side. "You haven't done anything to me, Hattie." The words are firm and he means them and it comes through. Then he's leaning forward just a bit though so his mouth is near her ear. "Well, you've done something to me. Don't suppose that weyr behind us has a bed so I can show you?" Hey, he's going to try. Even if he gets slapped for it. But slapped or scolded or no he just carries on with, "Told you it wasn't your fault and it's the truth. I don't want to embarrass you, but it's not because of anything you've said or done. Shells, woman. I don't want you to embarrass me. To that end have you considered showing a little more cleavage?"
Hattie allows the capture of her fingers and tries to look stern and disapproving about it at the same time. Not very successfully. She asks, very seriously, "Do you still need my help?" in a manner that just screams he will be thrown from the ledge if his response is anything less than just as serious. No slap and no scolding, instead a rather thoughtful look from the goldrider and she gives him a certain look that might say that she's at least taken the idea of investigating the weyr seriously. "To you or to the men of the weyr in general? I suppose I should say girls of the weyr as well, since I recall that's something you've an interest in." Of the cleavage remark, just as stern and just as unsuccessful as before. But then her expression alters completely and she vehemently utters, "There've been days when I've hated you these past few sevens. I don't generally hate people. Find them irritating, sure, but having hated you must mean something..."
"Need your help with something I don't want to do," W'ton says with a soft shake of his head. "Need your help not...getting too far off track. But only if you want to give it. Not asking you to babysit me, but if /you/ feel I need a talking to then tell me. Just...just don't do it on the behalf of someone else." At least for now. When she's all bossy things'll be different obviously. "As for the men, and women, of the weyr. To be honest I don't much care what they look at so long as they keep their hands to themselves." His hand releases hers because it's decided to curve around her waist. Unmoving, of course, but there it is. "I do need you, Hattie. Not just your help, but you. I've been a right ass and I know it and I don't even know how to apologize, but whatever I have to do to make it right between us I will. As for hating me... we don't hate people we don't care a lot for you know. One of my tutors explained it once. Something about the energy to hate someone is the same amount as it takes to love them. But he was a bit of a flake. Speaking of flakes." He lets out a sigh before saying, without any enthusiasm at all, "I could use someone willing to go to Rhodya and ask her to listen to me. Or at least not throw something at me when I talked." But then he's a little more cheerful, well, sly, as he says, "She gave me a right big bruise. Want to kiss it for me so it don't hurt so much?"
"Want to kiss /me/ to make up for being an ass all this time?" Hattie shoots back, one eyebrow raised. Better be one heck of a kiss, says that glint in her eyes. The time isn't really all that long in the grand scheme of things, but ignoring someone when in such close quarters for even a short time is an effort that makes it seem longer. "You always need a talking to," she murmurs just as she nods to agree and that's that. She lets the arm round her waist stay right where it is and if she inches a little closer, she pretends she hasn't noticed at all. "I won't talk to Rhodya for you," she states. "I won't. You're going to find her and you're going to apologize profusely for whatever you did and you're going to duck whatever she throws at you, because I suspect she has every right to throw whatever she likes at you." A sigh and she closes her eyes. "I ain't playing messenger again, Win." Down in the bowl, now that she must sense that Fort isn't going to be imminently down one pale-gold young queen, Elaruth curls up next to Dasarth in the sun looking rather pleased with herself. Look, she didn't back down! She did something good! Isn't she grown-up?
"Not asking you to /talk/ to her for me," W'ton clarifies as he kisses the top of her head. Surely that's not the kiss that'll make up for it all. "I just need someone she'll listen to that'll ask her to /listen/to me. Cause last time I tried she just threw something at me." It was entirely the brownrider's fault! Entirely! Well, mostly. "And for the record, sweetheart, that's what I mean. Here you are saying I got nothing but what I deserved and you don't know what happened. /That's/ what pisses me off." Not that he sounds too pissed off right now, but there's a bit of warning in his tone despite all that. But before she gets a chance to say anything he's making his move and it helps that he's already got an arm around her. Not that she doesn't have time to object, but short of a punch he'll have her in his lap and being kissed properly. While he's busy doing that Dasarth is letting Elaruth get all comfy before making his move and snaking his tail over hers while rewarding her grown-up-ness with plenty of praise and encouragement. She's tha man!
"Told you I was lousy at helping," Hattie warns in a pause for breath. Well, she did tell him to kiss her so there's really not much objection she can - or apparently wants to - make. She shakes her head a fraction and aims to rest it against his. "I don't mean /you/, you know," she tries to explain. "I... men... All I've ever heard is men doing women more wrong than good. And I'm going to take a girl's side because I'm a girl and..." So the explaining doesn't really go so well and probably isn't even what she means. "I don't like letting men too close. I don't like a man doing better at something than me. But you..." Because that'll make it all better, right. She seems to realize how all that sounds and physically withdraws, goes to slink away. Elaruth does the opposite and twists her tail around Dasarth's, the very tip of hers waving like a little flag. Victory! Or something like it. Maybe. And whilst she's doing that, she'll even lean a little more against him too.
"I'm horrid at everything?" W'ton teases with a quiet chuckle. "You don't have to worry about me doing better than you and Hattie? I understand that there's men out there not worth a spit, but there's women out there the same. Just...try not to take out the evils of a whole gender on me." But then before he can say something else she's trying to slink away and he's trying to stop her. "Don't go, honey," he whispers as he tries to keep her near him. "Stay with me. You don't have to do anything, you know. We can just sit here and I'm not mad at you. How's your ankle? Is it bothering you? Want me to rub it for you?" The offer is made in innocence. There's nothing in his tone to make it more than it sounds. Down in the bowl Dasarth's doing his best not to preen at having Elaruth there and wanting to lean against him. He's just there to support her and his mind is a little dim like maybe he's going to nap. Which makes it easier for W'ton up above to ask, "Or we could check on a bed inside? I could really show you how much I've missed you." It's not possible to be innocent for long!
Hattie pauses mid-slink, like a feline caught doing something she shouldn't, and her head drops down to rest on his shoulder. "That's not what I meant. Came out in the wrong order," she mutters, voice almost gone, quite possibly mortified or just plain upset that it did. "Don't mind having you close. What I meant." Fewer words, less chance to mess them up? "Hurts," she says of her ankle. "What you get for trying to be clever, though. Can't let it slow me down." But then there's only so fast a person can hobble. Beside Dasarth, Elaruth fails to notice any attempts at not-preening, for the sunshine and the long day combined are making her begin to switch off too. Her tail-tip slowly loses momentum and drops lazily back to settle alongside the bronze's. "I've not been inside. Could just be a floor and no bed," Hattie teases, still quiet.
"That's ok. How's about from now on I just don't hear what you say and just listen to your voice?" W'ton asks in a teasing tone. He drops another kiss on the top of her head and grins. "And I'm sorry about your ankle. You need to be more careful, sweetie. Or at least don't hurt yourself when we're not talking so I can't carry you around. Ohh. I could carry you right now." His brows waggle as he laughs. "There is such a thing as running so fast you get ahead of yourself though you know. You need to be careful." Then all is well for the world since the dragons seem to be happy to snooze in the sun. "Want me to carry you inside?" The arm around her waist tightens just a little bit as he adds, "To see if there's a bed. Or just a floor. You know just a floor doesn't bother me." Then again suspended in midair by his teeth would likely not slow him down at all when it came to getting naked. It's a gift. "The children are sleeping, dear," he whispers with a laugh.
"Now /that/ is a stereotypical male statement," Hattie declares, maybe just to see if he is listening, but then all that about the floor registers and she feigns shock. "/I/ care if it's just a floor!" she exclaims, balance unfortunately for her more towards laughter and less - even feigned - outrage. Were her ankle not busted, odds are she'd stand and drag him after her at such a suggestion as being carried anywhere, but it looks like W'ton is going to get his way today. Yet to hide the fact that she's quite embarrassed about the whole thing, she overplays it, loops her arms around his shoulders and puts on her best damsel in distress voice. "Oh, it's so far. I won't make it!" And then ruins it by laughing.
"You're so cute when you're pretending to be mad," W'ton says as he pretends like he never heard her at all when she made her comment on males. Again his arm tightens around her and he shakes his head. "Then I promise, solemnly, that if there is only a floor you can be on top," he tells her in complete seriousness. When he stands up he lets out a groan. "Shells, woman! What's with the weight you've put on?" He can't exactly duck while holding her so if she slaps him again he's just going to have to take it. "You're not going to make it? I might not make it. Oh, good thing for you me tough man. Carry much weight." If she overplays it so does he.
He really is heading for another slap, but what's a slap compared to the threat of, "I'll wake the children..." combined with a deadly smile? Hattie might mutter something about her knees and that floor though it's likely mostly inaudible. "Come on, you're supposed to be a man, quit whining," she says and unloops one arm to swat at him. Belatedly she realizes that yes, the sun is setting and no, nobody thought to bring glows. Nobody thought they'd be stranded. "Shells, it's dark in there..."
The threat and the smile make him stumble just a little, but not enough to cause any problems. "Yes, dear. No whining, dear," W'ton says in a deadpan tone of voice. But he stops at the entrance and peers inside. "Now I'm scared," he says in a quivering voice. "The dark! Oh, wait. You one of those women who likes to watch?" Leaning against the wall he plants a kiss on her forehead. "If you don't want to do this we don't have to. I could find my way in the dark though. I'm a man. I could hunt out a bed in there with my eyes closed. And I can certainly feel my way around with you." Brows waggle as his voice gets more lascivious. Can we say over the top?
It just gets better and better! "I'm not like /those/ women," Hattie insists, perhaps genuinely aggravated in that moment. He gets a proper kiss if only to shut him up and get him to stop using that voice. "Stop giving me chances to run for it, will you? Find a bed, find a wall, find the sharding floor if you must." Not like those women? Where went her decorum, then? "If anyone ever finds out I just said that, you are a dead man," she threatens. As much as she can threaten someone whilst in their arms in the dark.
Baby steps get taken inside because, well, it's dark! What ruins a moment more than a stubbed toe? Oh, dropping the person you're carrying! But that doesn't happen. "I promise if I fall I'll go backwards," W'ton mumbles as he inches forward another little bit. "I promise I'll never say a word to anyone. Hattie, sweetheart, baby, I'm not that kind of guy." And despite the deliberately sleazy words his tone is not. After all she might get the wrong idea. Bump goes his toe and he grins in the dark. "Shall we see if this is a bed? Could be a couch. Don't think it's a wall." And even though up til now he's been pretty darn calm those teenage hormones are beginning to kick in and he sounds eager to just find a spot already.
Hattie wriggles - which probably doesn't do the bronzerider any favours and she knows it - and leans to stretch one arm out ahead of them. Not a wall. When her fingers brush something that feels like a fur, she murmurs, "Let me go," and if he does, she's quite happy to fall the short way to explore. Bar jarring her ankle, which is more than a possibility. A faint hiss and she reaches again: fur, fur, linen, fur, pillow! "Bed," she confirms. "Or a giant couch." Her voice is a little further away the next time she speaks, so presumably it is actually a bed she's just crawled across. "Wall. Bed by wall." Silence and absolute stillness before, "Aren't you going to try and find me?" drifts back to him.
If she wants down he's not going to keep her up. There's a crude joke in there, but W'ton wouldn't ever say it. "I like a woman willing to do all the work," he says with a low laugh. "You just find what we need then." But then she's asking him that question and he's more than eager to get to finding her. "Your wish is my command, my lady." When he does finally catch up to her there's a whole list of things in his head he's got planned to do. To her, with her, semantics. It's more than enough to keep them there though until she wants to leave. And maybe a little after.