[Log] No Lies
Who: E'sere, Vanya
When: Day 26, Month 7, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Where: E'sere and Morelenth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
What: E'sere gets a visitor.
E'sere and Morelenth's Weyr
This narrow ledge is longer than it is wide, fanning out on either side of the entrance into the weyr. The stone has been deeply scored by the passage of countless dragons over the turns. Its location is optimal; natural outcroppings of the bowl wall keep the wind from raking the ledge's surface and the sun reaches the rock to heat it for most of the day.
Inside, E'sere's weyr is laid out like any other weyr, dragon couch at the fore and rider quarters at the back. However, the decor is not typical bachelor pad: E'sere has instead taken some care in choosing furnishings--a rich dark wood desk and chair, matching padded chairs in a small seating area, and his large bed at the back--and decorations, mainly expensive-looking tapestries hung from the walls.
The clear summer sky has been hidden behind a dense wall of clouds. They aren't dark enough yet to threaten a storm but the air has grown humid and heavy.
Contents:
Vanya
Morelenth
Donavon
Obvious Exits:
Sky
Even after ten days confined to his weyr, E'sere seems no worse for wear. He's seated at his desk with a plate of dinner in front of him, while a pair of guards sit in his chairs and glower at him, nevermind the wingleader's pleasant attempts at small talk. He's lucky if he gets two-word answers out of them, but he seems unbothered--likely, with so little other company, he's desperate enough those two words are enough to satisfy. Morelenth rests on his couch, glaring in turn at the guards. Finally, E'sere notes, "We've a visitor coming." One of the guards immediately jumps up, heading to the ledge to meet the arriving dragon; the other remains in place to watch E'sere.
Having finally worked up the courage to tackle what she knows will difficult, at best, disastrous at worst, Vanya has requested to be taken up to E'sere's weyr. She sits atop a blue dragon, carefully dressed in simple, basic black, hair loose but neat (albeit now windblown), nothing with her. There is a quiet dignity about the healer, and a rather composed expression on her face as she dismounts on the ledge, offering thanks to the rider and dragon, then turning to face the guardsman. It is, perhaps, to his credit the man flushes slightly, knowing he will be forced by the nature of his job to place hands upon her, touch her almost intimately to make certain she carries no weapons nor contraband to the prisoner. For her part, Vanya offers him an understanding nod, submitting to the search with stoicism and detachment. His hands conduct the search without any lingering or lecherous moves, and she is pronounced acceptable. At that point, she steps only as far as Morelenth's couch, pausing there to offer a gently greeting to the bronze, a comforting hand on his neck, soft murmurs of greeting in no way impossible not to overhear and totally without guile. Afterwards, Vanya moves into the weyr, nodding a greeting to the other guard, and taking a breath before simply saying, "Good evening, E'sere."
"Vanya." E'sere turns in his chair to regard her, his expression as unreadable as the night he was arrested. "Vanya. His plate is pushed away, and he stands, taking a couple of steps forward, and only then offering her an easy smile, as though nothing in the world were amiss. The second guard has settled back into his chair with a grunt; E'sere gestures Vanya toward one of the empty ones. "Please, come in. Have a seat. I wasn't expecting you--I was going to write you a letter, but I'm afraid I haven't had time." His wry smile admits the untruth: he's had nothing /but/ time for ten days now.
Vanya moves forward, her eyes on E'sere's face, her own expression composed, calm, all save the eyes. They watch him as a hungry man might watch a banquet being served, one to which he was not invited. And then that is gone, as she glances at the guards. "I wanted to before, but I took a few days off to better organize my research notes and think about many things. I also went away for a day, up to the waterfall and got caught in that awful storm. It was fortunate I found shelter nearby, as my runner decided he was averse to being wet and left me stranded. A rider found me and brought me safely home, wet and chilled, but otherwise none the worse for wear." She pauses in this rather innocuous stream of talking. "I was concerned, and wished to see for myself you recovered from your ordeal. You are ... well?" A flicker of eyes to the guards, then, "A letter?"
The guards are listening, surely, but they don't interrupt. Instead, E'sere, sliding into a seat himself, nods to Vanya. "You were out in that?" he queries, brows arching. "That was a rough little storm--Morelenth and I watched it here. You should know better than to let yourself get caught out in one of those: you're very lucky someone found you," he chides her gently. Then, smiling again: "I'm well," he reassures the healer. "Quite well. No worse for wear, I assure you. How are you?"
Vanya looks down at her hands when he chides her, very much a child being gently scolded by an older person. "Yes, well, I was safe enough when the worst hit, it was just very cold. I'd not tied the runner well, and it turns out that was actually a good thing. I'd fallen asleep before the storm, and woke to find him gone. Had I attempted to travel, likely it would have been worse. He came back, and the stablehand knew where I'd gone so ..." She halts for a moment. "D'ven knew where to look when he came looking for me." When her eyes lift, she offers a fairly steady smile. "I'm glad you've recovered, and I'm as well as can be expected." Fortunately, those guards can't see her face all that well, because her eyes betray that's not quite true. "I have ... managed well enough, though it's been difficult." A pause. "At times."
"D'ven," E'sere repeats the name, and nothing more, for several long minutes, as he watches her, frowning. Finally, he prompts, "At times?"
"D'ven," Vanya confirms, placing no particular emphasis on the name. "He was concerned for me, as was Essdara. She has been a constant companion for those times when life seems a bit ... overwhelming." There's a pause, then, "Yes, there's a lot of time for ... reflection." For remembering this weyr, that waterfall, him. "I've tried to use my free time to continue my research. Wingleader Br'ce has spoken to me of a program utilizing my theories of warm-up exercises, and agreed to implement a few of my suggestions. It's been something with which to occupy my off time." She offers a small smile. "I've also taken to jogging in the early morning. Running has its own therapeutic worth. I figured if he was willing to test my exercises, I should at least attempt to see the value of his." She chuckles. "I've actually managed once around the bowl, but that's about it. I've learned to appreciate the size of the weyr in a whole new way."
"You should speak to L'ret," advises E'sere. "My wingsecond; he's visited me a few times to keep me up-to-date on my wing." Still his wing. One of the guards snorts, but E'sere ignores him, attention on Vanya. "He's been continuing my work--we did instate those exercises you mentioned before--before."
"L'ret," Vanya repeats. "I've not met him, but I'll be sure to make time to." The news he actually did start using her suggestions brings a somewhat more relaxed smile to her lips. "And did the riders complain much, I wonder, when asked to do a few minutes extra warm up?" she asks, letting herself ignore the guard's snort much as E'sere has. "If I've not met with him by his next visit, please point him toward me? I'd like to keep in touch with the programs and observe the effects, positive or, Faranth forbid, negative." She pauses. "I had occasion to meet G'thon earlier today." Color touches her cheek. "As usual, I was my own charming self, and I hope not too offensive. I asked if I might talk to him of ... of the ways used to drill and train during his tenure." She looks down. "He was gracious enough, but I wish I could've been with someone like you when I met him."
"I will," E'sere promises. "In fact, I'll have Morelenth tell him as much now." The guards glare at him, but as usual, E'sere ignores them in favor of glancing to Morelenth. After a few seconds, E'sere looks back to Vanya and offers a quick smile. "He'll come find you tomorrow," he assures her. Then, cocking his head, he wonders, "Oh? Why is that?" in answer to her latter words. And: "What did Ganathon--" emphasis on that full name "--have to say?"
"It was not what, so much as how," Vanya replies. "It was a chance meeting in the hall, and I was impulsive, asking if I might not speak to him of training methods, as I said. Explaining my desire to help the weyr riders to stay healthy. He replied that he would be willing since I seemed genuinely concerned in helping the /fighting/ riders." She looks up, then back down. "I realized then I should have gone about it less directly, but I'm no skilled diplomat." Vanya sighs, glancing over to the bronze dragon, eyes softening. "Ganathon was gracious and did invite me to tea day after tomorrow. I shall go, but not press him. I don't want another person upset with me because of my unfortunate tendency to speak with both feet in my mouth. That is my wont, as I warned you when we first met."
E'sere's pause is a long one, the bronzerider simply studying her for a while. Then, at last, he tells her, "Be careful with him, Vanya: he's.... He's not been the same since Hirth." Words which earn more intent studies from the two listening guards.
It takes a moment for Vanya to tear her eyes from the bronze dragon and let them regard E'sere once more. And a few moments more to catch his meaning. A simple nod. "I shall heed your advice and tread with caution and care, then. Thank you." She sits in silence a few seconds, her eyes cutting to the guards, as if worried they would cut short this already too brief meeting. "You mentioned writing me a letter," she prompts. "I was going to do the same to you, but ... that seemed rather impersonal. Our friendship asked more of me than some few words on a hide." And she looks up, tried to remain composed, but there's a movement of hand, as if she wants to reach out, to touch him in some way. But thinks better of it, and instead runs that hand over the skirt of her dress.
"No less impersonal than this," E'sere notes with a wry smile, nodding his head toward the guards. On cue, more scowls. He adds lightly, "They read my mail, anyway. A man can't get any privacy these days." His smile grows solemn again as he watches that gesture, wry and wistful. "I'm glad to see you again, though. I had thought, after last time--" The arrest. "I'm sorry you had to be here for that."
Vanya is and she isn't. "It was best I was, for I'd have not wished to hear of it through gossip and rumor," she replies. It was not so bad, save I feared for your health and wished I could have offered Morelenth comfort in your absence." But her eyes say so much more. "It is ... difficult, this, yes, but better than many alternatives." Letting her eyes try and speak more than she can say aloud. "I would wish for the chance to talk of things which needs must be spoken between us, but those words are not for ... for others." She turns away, her face reddening, and let the guards make of that what they will. "Someday, perhaps. Until then, I have but one question for you." Vanya turns back to face E'sere, her gaze steady. "And the guards may hear it as they wish, make of it what they wish, speak of it to whom they wish." A beat. "I wish to know if that which once passed between us was pretense or genuine. That truth I wish to hear from you, be it aloud now or written after I leave."
E'sere studies Vanya still, a moment more before he nods once, acceptance of the question. Then, he tells her, "We aren't a lie, Vanya."
Perhaps those words imply that other things he's said are, but that does not concern her now. She hears him, regards him for several moments, her eyes closing. When they reopen, there is a firmness of resolve in their depths. "No, we are not," she replies, voice steady and sure. "There are those who will call me fool in the days to come, and perhaps rightly. I will not lie, E'sere, not even for you. Know that, I beg, and know that I have not lied to you regarding this matter. Nor any other." She looks over at the guards. "I am certain they will have me leave soon, and I do not know if I may return with any frequency, if ever. Whatever the future brings, know I will work to make one thing come true. A united weyr, a peaceful weyr, no matter who leads. The weyr will receive the best I can give it, that I promise you."
E'sere nods slowly, offering a half-smile to the healer opposite him. "I understand. I don't wish you to lie for me, or to do anything more than simply that: your duty, and what's best for the Weyr. Everything else will sort itself out from there."
Vanya nods, understanding, accepting. "I won't speak of what just passed between us regarding our personal matters. There are certain things which are not governed by laws and courts. I've no doubt what was just said will be of value to some, worthless to others." She pauses. "I spoke truth, and nothing will change that truth. When this ends, only then will we speak of this again, and find the other truths to be had. What that will mean, can only be known then."
"Nothing changes the truth," E'sere agrees, nodding slowly. He's silent again, until this time, one of the guards clears his throat restlessly, shooting the bronzerider a pointed look. E'sere dips his head once in acknowledgement, then offers Vanya a small smile. "They're getting restless; they don't like people staying for too long," he tells her apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"Of course not," Vanya agrees, understanding. She looks longingly at E'sere, as if committing his face to memory to recall on the cold, empty nights to follow. "You have not been far from my thoughts, and though I cannot see you, if you wish to see me, have Morelenth rise before the sun and look to the lake. There will he find me at that quiet time, and know I'm serving the weyr as I promised. I will look for him in the dawn and know he is with you." And then she rises, taking a half step forward as if to embrace him, but checking herself. A last look, then to the guards. "If you gentlemen will permit Morelenth to summon a ride for me, I will depart and leave you to your work, and E'sere to your company." She doesn't look back, but moves at once to the bronze dragon, stepping close, putting her hands on his muzzle, stroking gently. In an almost absurd move, she places her arms around whatever part of the dragon he will permit, holding him close, giving to the dragon what she would to the man if permitted. Her head rests against the warm dragon hide, and though the guards cannot see or hear, her lips move for only a moment. Then she releases Morelenth, steps away, and moves to the ledge. Waiting.
Morelenth> Obedient to that whispered order, Morelenth replies << She says she loves you still, guilt or innocence. >> Underneath those words is a subtle disapproval, like a weight that settles itself at the back of E'sere's mind.
E'sere simply watches, nods once, and stands as Vanya does, taking a couple of steps after her as she goes to Morelenth. The bronze, quite content to be hugged, lowers his great head to nudge at her gently. Then, as she moves to the ledge, he looks back to E'sere, fixing his rider with a look. In a short time, the blue of earlier returns, touching down on the ledge to take Vanya away. Before he does so, however, E'sere, trailed by his guards, steps out onto the ledge as well. "None of it, Vanya," he tells her, with an intent look, "was a lie." Then, stepping away again: "Good night." And that's all as he turns to retreat back inside. One of the guards stays to watch her leave; the other shadows their charge indoors. Morelenth watches Vanya.