[Log] Expendability
Who: Aivey, E'sere
When: Day 24, Month 8, Turn 3, 7th Pass
Where: E'sere and Aivey's Weyr, Five Mines Hold
What: E'sere and Aivey discuss the situation with her father and Donavon, among other things.
It's an early morning hour, day whichever of being on the mainland and Aivey has already fallen into a pattern of early-waking and very little nighttime sleeping. Currently nestled against E'sere's side with her face buried into his shoulder, she waits the morning through with the occasional brush of her thumb against his wrist from where she has as firm grip upon it. The hand is upturned, the scar on the palm traced when his wrist isn't touched.
E'sere is awake, too, but eyes closed and body entirely still to keep from disturbing Aivey, from interrupting her touch on his hand--and from having to actually begin the day. Finally, though, after some long time, he has to shift around and blink open his eyes as he nestles further into the blankets with her. "Morning."
"About time," is Aivey's initial, albeit baseless complaint. She leans in for a kiss, and a brief resting of her forehead against his. There's a breath taken there, one that's more steadying than anything else. "Busy day today?" The hand on his wrist loosens before freeing him entirely. Aivey draws it back to herself, brusing the back of her hand against her forehead before settling it under the side of her head.
"As busy as ever," says E'sere wistfully. "And I've been awake, thank you very much. What plans do you have?" When Aivey releases him, he moves to slide his arm tighter around her, eyes half-closing again as he refuses to move again. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mm," Aivey pulls in another breath, holding it for a long few moments before slowly easing it out in reply. "Plans for today or the future? I have both. Some more fun than others," The smile and tone are devious, the slight pinch to his side more so. "You've gone soft on me."
"Both," says E'sere idly, turning his head to bury his face in the pillow, and wiggling his body away from her pinching. "I have not. I'm as firm and unyielding as ever. I don't know what you're trying to imply."
"Unyielding, yes. Firm?" Aivey shakes her head, grinding her hair against the pillow in denial. His wiggling away only has her drawing closer, though it's to reclaim her spot at his side - as close as she can get, at that. "I think today I'm going to try and get to know a few people better. It'll help when it comes time for the other stuff." A pause, "You? Still with the weyrlings?"
"Will it," says E'sere absently, as he lets her snuggle in again. That arm slides back around as he glances down at her, mouth tilting up wryly. "I suppose so. I've little else enough to occupy me. I am /not/ going down in one of those shafts to mine, after all." He nods firmly. Then: "And I /am/ firm. As in shape as I've ever been: Faranth knows if I /did/ have any extra weight, I don't know, the way we eat," he grumbles.
"Poor baby," Aivey's sympathetic reply is chased with a kiss, "-good thing too. You're not exactly built like me. You might get stuck." She skips quickly to the safer topic, "Anything after you're done with them? Planned, I mean? If I get done quick enough, I think I can manage a free evening."
"Wouldn't want to be," notes E'sere smirkily. "My physique is far more manly; I'm quite pleased with that. But--oh. Yes. I'll be free, of course," he adds, half-sitting up. "Shall we have dinner in the hall, or bring it back up here for our privacy?" He tilts his head slightly, arches a brow suggestively.
"Privacy is always fun," Aivey replies while reaching out toward him, "So's 'keeping up our public appearance'. You said that once, I think," Her forehead wrinkles for all of a moment, then it's dismissed as she uses him to lever herself upward and against the wall, "I can get dinner. I think I'm in the kitchens today - it's funny. Sort of." Maybe. "Being back here and right back where I started."
"It is," agrees E'sere, remaining seated while Aivey rises. He watches a moment idly. "Not very funny at all. To keep up public appearances, I should hide you away more. You're a murderer here--I'm the man who tried to save Nabol so I really shouldn't be seen associating with you," he points out.
"E'sere. Dearest," Aivey adopts her sweetest tone, "Murderers are appreciated here. We're in high regard - the majority, really if you think about it..." She inclines her head toward him, and her appraisal of him is less than flattering, "Heroes, well, you're just folks who get other folks killed." The twitch of her lips is at least amused, "Which in its own way is kind of ironic, don't you think?"
E'sere shakes his head. "We don't like to publicize that fact, though. We're in respectable company now, after all. My cousin Lord Odern, and his companions..." Even he can't quite quite keep a straight face on that one. He settles for, "When we get home, we can keep our arrangement quieter, and I can be respectable again."
"Cousin Lord Odern. And my father thinks I chose poorly," Aivey continues to taunt; taunt for taunt, apparently, as the later of E'sere's words garner a glare and half-hearted swipe of her hand toward his shoulder. "And I can go back to working in the laundry. It'll be like nothing ever happened. I can hardly wait. Really, try and see just how excited I am." She widens her eyes for effect.
"I'm serious!" E'sere gripes in response, eyeing Aivey. "What kind of successful politician is sleeping with a crazy murderer? Or the daughter of one?" He gives her a pointed look, shakes his head. Then, abruptly: "Your father doesn't approve of me?" So much for that 'crazed murderer' bit: he looks hurt.
"Crazy is purely subjective." Aivey informs E'sere, "I think I'm sane. My father is too. There's a few people here I might question... a couple more /not/ here that I'm certain on but really-" Aivey trails off and shakes her head before stretching a foot out to nudge the side of E'sere's knee. "You knew that already. At least I thought you did."
"You don't have to rub it in," E'sere ignores Aivey's first words in favor of a sulky reply to her. He moves his leg away from her touch. "I thought, I don't know. He hasn't changed his mind? But I've done everything for him. I've run messaged, spoken to Odern, gotten us moved--what else does he want from me?"
"When I know what he wants from me, I'll work on what he wants from you." Aivey draws her leg back in, but only to switch her position so that she's leaning against him, "I love you even if he doesn't. I approve of you and most everything you do even if he doesn't. You are mine and I wouldn't have you any other way."
"But he doesn't," says E'sere, preoocupied with that fact. "I have to fix that. If I ever want to replace J'lor, I have to have your father. He's the one who's going to ensure I'm someone now." He runs a hand through his hair, releases a breath. "Uh-huh," he brushes right over her latter assurances."
"J'lor is not the way. And he is the last thing... person you want to replace," Aivey's correction is last minute, a heavy frown already in place. "Besides you won't ever be able to replace him. There's too much history... too much... become someone he wants on his side. Someone he needs. Give him a reason to need you, E'sere. Before that give him a reason to trust you." E'sere brushing over her assurances does garner a reply, only Aivey is entirely casual about it as she pushes away to stand. "Back when we were at the 'Reaches - before we were a we and it was you, the golden boy of the 'Reaches and me the... laundry girl... when you were looking for allies - tools...whatever, what were you looking for?"
E'sere rubs the nape of his neck, shaking his head slowly. "Someone to kill for me," he answers. "To do the things I couldn't do for myself, and Donavon couldn't do any longer. Someone to take the fall for me when the time came." A pause. He looks back to her, brows knitted as he studies. "He's not going to trust me, he's not going to need me. How would I even change that?"
"And when you found people to do that for you, how'd you choose who was best? What about them stood out? Didn't stand out? Why them and not someone else?" Aivey asks, ignoring the later of his questions.
"I... I don't know. I just knew," E'sere says with a helpless shrug. "I knew I had you--I had enough to blackmail you, enough to control you and work out some sort of deal with you. And I wanted you--I knew if you could do the things you had been doing, I wanted you on my side." A pause. His mouth tilts slightly, sadly bemused. "And I planned to ensure that when we were done, I was going to give you up, let you be staked out. It would be revenge, for Donavon, and tying up my own loose ends, too."
"So you wanted someone who was expendable and with no risks to yourself. Someone you could manipulate so that you had their trust or enough of it that they wouldn't immediately question some shady things." Aivey turns to face him, her features mostly blank in the face of E'sere's truth, "Now ask yourself if you really want to be that to my father. And ask yourself if you aren't already."
E'sere's mouth opens, and his mouth closes just as quickly. He studies Aivey long and hard and in the end doesn't get anywhere past where he started from: he doesn't know how to answer either question put to him.
"A tool is a tool." Aivey replies, going one step further. "Everyone is one. My father. Me. You. The 'Reaches, the girl who'll serve dinner to everyone here tonight... Odern. You don't want to be his go-to man. You want to be the man he puts ahead of all the other men he considers expendable. But you'll always be expendable because you're not him and that's what tools are." There's a small nod at the end of this, though it comes only after she's looked away from him toward the entrance of their new home. "If you want it to happen it can. Not right off but in time." A glance to him again, this time to assess whether he wants it or not.
"In time," repeats E'sere, frowning. "And until then? What do I do, hope he doesn't expend me before I get a chance to actually be useful? He uses Donavon more than me now! Donavon! He's supposed to be /my/ man."
Aivey shakes her head. "He won't. He doesn't - you're mine and I'm his and... I'm not stupid, I know it won't last forever but for now its enough. It'll keep you safe until he has a reason to use you. So you have time to figure out how you're going to make yourself more indispensable than Donavon. Right now he's your immediate competition. At least that's how you can look at it."
"Can we... I can talk to Donavon," E'sere says slowly. "Tell him to back away. He would do that, for me. Or if he were unable to perform his duties--some kind of injury--nothing life-threatening--" He looks hopefully at Aivey.
"You won't - he's not expendable to you, is he?" Aivey asks, "You'd rather take him out of commission long enough to replace him, then have him back at your side?"
"Yes," E'sere answers quickly, nodding.
"Any other ground rules you want me to know about then?" Aivey returns to the bed, but only on the chore of picking her clothes from their folded pile, "Pretend I don't already know what you know and fill me in."
E'sere says, "No, that will do," E'sere says with a shake of his head. "And--don't let him know that either of us are in on it, but especially me.""
"I'm not putting him out of commission," Aivey says, "For one my father'd string me out. Or hand deliver me to the 'Reaches. He's using Donavon because he needs him." Aivey twists her back to him, sheds her night shirt and adorns her day clothes, "I'll find another way. Just... do what you do with the weyrlings and let me handle the rest."
Sulkiness returns, as E'sere finally gets himself up out of bed. "Okay, fine," he tells her heavily, moving to get dressed. "I'll handle them. I'll see you tonight."
"Maybe." Aivey's dressed and working into her shoes with a tiny wince, "I didn't plan on doing much of anything today and now I've got a full load. I'll try and stop by for lunch if I can mange. If not... you know where the kitchen area is. I'll see you later." Surely a 'be safe' must be implied somewhere between that last statement and the wave offered in his direction before Aivey sets off through the entrance.