[OOC] Vignette.
Thread fell when it wasn't supposed to. The first untimely occurence was devastating. That night it was quiet.
"I understand that you're freaking out--"
"No, no. I'm not talking about this, this isn't a discussion. This is happening. I did my time, I fucking did my time. Fuck this, fuck all of them."
"You don't run, you don't /do/ that."
"Hush."
"You're better than that."
"Not this time."
In his weyr, a far cry with its decorations and its warmth from what it would be years from now, safely tucked away within rock and seperated from the world, K'aus paces around haphazardly throwing things onto his bed. Pieces of clothing, books, slips of paper that don't so much land as they do alight after spinning in the air nowhere near where everything else ends up. He's making a mess and he doesn't care.
A small girl ten years younger than him with long dark hair and brown eyes sits on the couch and watches his progress 'packing'. There isn't a lot she can do when he's in one of his moods, save for pry him gently from his own thoughts if she can.
"Where are we going to go then?"
"We'll go to Fort. It's close to the Hall, you can still work and I can take up a posting at the Hold."
"A posting as what?"
He turns to look sharply at her, items of clothing held tightly in both hands and she blinks, slightly startled by the possessed look on his face.
"Ehrudith's getting older. It wouldn't be that crazy if he couldn't fight--"
"K'aus--"
"He can lie, he's good at lying. He can fake a wing injury. That'll buy us a few months--"
"K'aus--"
"--and after that I'll think of something else--"
"/K'aus/."
"/Marin/."
Silence.
Tension.
They stare at each other in that moment.
She sees the lines on his face and the hard edge in his black eyes, the shadows beneath them. How many nights now since they've been together that he declined sleep as willfully as if it was only an offer, as if that was a choice anyone could just make? He made it.
What he sees in her is vastly different. Marin's never known the kind of life that weathers a person. Her face is young, as it should be, rounded around her cheeks with her big dark eyes. There's always been so much sadness in them though, sadness for the state of the world. Her bleeding heart never gave her any peace.
In a quieter voice that's both respectful for the new atmosphere in the weyr and of his feelings for her, K'aus says simply, "Please."
She stands and tilts her head; he lowers his eyes, defeated. It seems to take her a long time to span the distance between them, to lean up on her tiptoes and wrap her arms around his neck, a gesture he's only too willing to accomodate by bending at his knees. He reciprocates, arms around her waist.
Her fingers thread through the hair at the back of his head and she turns her cheek against his; he clutches her to him, his little anchor.
Now there's a weary heaviness, he surrounds her with it. "Please let me keep you."
Her eyes close and she keeps the small shaky breath inside by biting down on her lip. When she knows without a doubt that she can be strong, and only when she knows she knows because she can't afford uncertainty when he gets like this, Marin pulls away to put enough distance between them that she can meet his eyes. She does so without a shred of hesitation and she holds his gaze with her own as if she could somehow will him to be calm.
People always did say she was crazy for getting involved with him. Since their relationship had become more public those people hadn't made a peep, but she knew they saw him as this reformed soul or some similarly over-dramatic caricature of an actual person.
They didn't know him.
Her hand finds the scruffy side of his dear face and she touches him without the apprehension she used to feel. Like he would bite her or hurt her; like he ever could.
"I love you."
The smile that curves his mouth is one she knows well. It's tolerant and patient and kind, all of those things she never knew were there. Until she bothered to find out. Until he let her.
"But."
She smiles back at him, caught and fully aware.
"You promised me."
His deep breath results in a sigh that lifts his shoulders and she's pulled against him by that. It's all she needs to know she's made a success out of convincing him.
She helps him clear the bed and doesn't make him feel like an asshole for piling things on top of it in the first place. He still does, but without her help. The mess can wait until tomorrow, when they're both more inclined to deal with it, when there's enough of a buffer period between then and now. When he's feeling less sensitive.
K'aus wanders around the weyr shielding baskets and pulling their home into darkness by inches. She's already in bed when he joins her and the sound of him moving so close so suddenly cues her opening up her arms for him to crawl into, which he does.
They wrap each other up to become a fusion of limbs and she holds him close, smoothes her hand over his hair again and again and kisses the top of his head. His arms circle her easily, she's so skinny, and he hides his face against her neck.
In the darkness they lay there and breathe and she sets a tempo with her heartbeat that he tries his best to match. Eventually she falls asleep. K'aus does not.
Ehrudith.
K'aus.
I'm sorry.
I'm with you, boy. Come hell or high water.
"I understand that you're freaking out--"
"No, no. I'm not talking about this, this isn't a discussion. This is happening. I did my time, I fucking did my time. Fuck this, fuck all of them."
"You don't run, you don't /do/ that."
"Hush."
"You're better than that."
"Not this time."
In his weyr, a far cry with its decorations and its warmth from what it would be years from now, safely tucked away within rock and seperated from the world, K'aus paces around haphazardly throwing things onto his bed. Pieces of clothing, books, slips of paper that don't so much land as they do alight after spinning in the air nowhere near where everything else ends up. He's making a mess and he doesn't care.
A small girl ten years younger than him with long dark hair and brown eyes sits on the couch and watches his progress 'packing'. There isn't a lot she can do when he's in one of his moods, save for pry him gently from his own thoughts if she can.
"Where are we going to go then?"
"We'll go to Fort. It's close to the Hall, you can still work and I can take up a posting at the Hold."
"A posting as what?"
He turns to look sharply at her, items of clothing held tightly in both hands and she blinks, slightly startled by the possessed look on his face.
"Ehrudith's getting older. It wouldn't be that crazy if he couldn't fight--"
"K'aus--"
"He can lie, he's good at lying. He can fake a wing injury. That'll buy us a few months--"
"K'aus--"
"--and after that I'll think of something else--"
"/K'aus/."
"/Marin/."
Silence.
Tension.
They stare at each other in that moment.
She sees the lines on his face and the hard edge in his black eyes, the shadows beneath them. How many nights now since they've been together that he declined sleep as willfully as if it was only an offer, as if that was a choice anyone could just make? He made it.
What he sees in her is vastly different. Marin's never known the kind of life that weathers a person. Her face is young, as it should be, rounded around her cheeks with her big dark eyes. There's always been so much sadness in them though, sadness for the state of the world. Her bleeding heart never gave her any peace.
In a quieter voice that's both respectful for the new atmosphere in the weyr and of his feelings for her, K'aus says simply, "Please."
She stands and tilts her head; he lowers his eyes, defeated. It seems to take her a long time to span the distance between them, to lean up on her tiptoes and wrap her arms around his neck, a gesture he's only too willing to accomodate by bending at his knees. He reciprocates, arms around her waist.
Her fingers thread through the hair at the back of his head and she turns her cheek against his; he clutches her to him, his little anchor.
Now there's a weary heaviness, he surrounds her with it. "Please let me keep you."
Her eyes close and she keeps the small shaky breath inside by biting down on her lip. When she knows without a doubt that she can be strong, and only when she knows she knows because she can't afford uncertainty when he gets like this, Marin pulls away to put enough distance between them that she can meet his eyes. She does so without a shred of hesitation and she holds his gaze with her own as if she could somehow will him to be calm.
People always did say she was crazy for getting involved with him. Since their relationship had become more public those people hadn't made a peep, but she knew they saw him as this reformed soul or some similarly over-dramatic caricature of an actual person.
They didn't know him.
Her hand finds the scruffy side of his dear face and she touches him without the apprehension she used to feel. Like he would bite her or hurt her; like he ever could.
"I love you."
The smile that curves his mouth is one she knows well. It's tolerant and patient and kind, all of those things she never knew were there. Until she bothered to find out. Until he let her.
"But."
She smiles back at him, caught and fully aware.
"You promised me."
His deep breath results in a sigh that lifts his shoulders and she's pulled against him by that. It's all she needs to know she's made a success out of convincing him.
She helps him clear the bed and doesn't make him feel like an asshole for piling things on top of it in the first place. He still does, but without her help. The mess can wait until tomorrow, when they're both more inclined to deal with it, when there's enough of a buffer period between then and now. When he's feeling less sensitive.
K'aus wanders around the weyr shielding baskets and pulling their home into darkness by inches. She's already in bed when he joins her and the sound of him moving so close so suddenly cues her opening up her arms for him to crawl into, which he does.
They wrap each other up to become a fusion of limbs and she holds him close, smoothes her hand over his hair again and again and kisses the top of his head. His arms circle her easily, she's so skinny, and he hides his face against her neck.
In the darkness they lay there and breathe and she sets a tempo with her heartbeat that he tries his best to match. Eventually she falls asleep. K'aus does not.
Ehrudith.
K'aus.
I'm sorry.
I'm with you, boy. Come hell or high water.