[Log] Coming Home
Who: Brijana, R'dur
When: Day 6, Month 4, Turn 7, 11th Interval
Where: R'dur and Brijana's Weyr, Telgar Weyr
What: R'dur returns home to Brijana after Nalaieth's flight; things go as one might expect.
Alidaeth's Ledge
The ledge to this weyr is spacious, large enough for a couple of big dragons to lounge on it. Made of dark grey stone, it glitters in the light and displays veins of other colors throughout. Long turns of use have worn its edges; in some places, claws have carved grooves into the rock. A large space to one side is smooth and slightly hollowed, the best sunning spot on the ledge. At the back of the rock outcropping is a dark opening, leading to a high, wide chamber bearing a dragon's couch. Rushes pad the couch to insulate the chilly stone. A plain, dark sheet covers the doorway to the weyr's interior.
At Telgar, a late sunset has created brilliant lights in the cloudless sky, and in the orderly weyr inhabited by R'dur and Brijana, the latter sits on a chair out on Alidaeth's ledge, her feet propped up onto a crate. Clad in a bikini that'd be more appropriate to Ista's beaches than even Telgar summers, the assistant headwoman seems to be dozing on and off.
Alidaeth doesn't take a single wingbeat as he appears from /between/, instead gliding lethargically downward to intercept his ledge. He lands with a heavy thump, puddling near Brijana with a wheezy snort more meant to elicit sympathy than anything else. Disheveled, pale, and just generally out of sorts, R'dur struggles to master the complexity of the strap buckles. "Br--Bri?" he voices after a moment, not daring to look as something between hopefulness and fear settles in his shaky voice.
"You're blocking the sun," the somnolent voice protests, a hand waving away the sudden shadow of brown that obscures the light. To emphasize this fact, Bri's lids shut tighter, lines appearing at the corners of her eyes and her face twisting into something that's definitely not pretty. It's only after R'dur speaks, the staggering sound that sounds fearful, that the young woman startles herself awake, the sudden shift of her eyelids flittering up higher to catch sight of her weyrmate and with a look of surprise, both her arms outstretch, "What happened? Did F'lion beat you up? Are you ok? Are- you... did Yselle do this?" The last draws out less sympathy and a more dangerous softness to the young girl's voice.
Alidaeth, at all this attention on R'dur, scuffs his tail across the stone wearily, his own exhaustion exaggerated. R'dur ignores him, only winces at Brijana's concern. Finally, he manages to release himself, sliding clumsily to the ledge and lingering close to his brown's side rather than running to his weyrmate. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't--I had no idea--he just--it's all his fault!" he finally bursts out, explaining nothing, really, though he helpfully points at Alidaeth.
In the time it takes R'dur to slide down, Bri also struggles to get to her own feet, the hapless crate being kicked dangerously to the ledge's edge. "R'dur, R'dur-, shhh." There's a soothing quality to her voice, the dangerous sweetness disappearing as wide-eyed apprehension takes over. The slender girl has no qualms of making her way over, her bare feet pattering lightly across the stone ledge to draw herself up near the brownrider. It's also no coincidence that while one hand reaches to curve against her weyrmate's cheek, the other finds balance against Alidaeth's hide, petting the soft draconic hide with circular sweeps of longer fingers.In the time it takes R'dur to slide down, Bri also struggles to get to her own feet, the hapless crate being kicked dangerously to the ledge's edge. "R'dur, R'dur-, shhh." There's a soothing quality to her voice, the dangerous sweetness disappearing as wide-eyed apprehension takes over. The slender girl has no qualms of making her way over, her bare feet pattering lightly across the stone ledge to draw herself up near the brownrider. It's also no coincidence that while one hand reaches to curve against her weyrmate's cheek, the other finds balance against Alidaeth's hide, petting the soft draconic hide with circular sweeps of longer fingers.
Thus pointed out, Alidaeth at least has the grace to look chastened, though he croons half-heartedly defenses of his character to Brijana at her touch. R'dur, stiff and wary, cuts his eyes sideways to try to watch her hand as she reaches to his cheek, perhaps expecting something other than that caress. "I--he--Nalaieth," he finally stumbles out. "Nalaieth, at Ista. She rose. We were--there. I'm sorry."
This gives Brijana pause, and the assistant looks briefly very pained and indecisive. "I-... I guess this is just like when you won A'tan's flight." She struggles visibly in the lines of her face to come to terms with this idea and against the seeds of jealousy that most likely spark green in her veins. "You wanted this... Nalaieth's rider?"
"I--no. Different," answers R'dur, choppily, as he shakes his head to emphasize the point. "Gold--she's gold. I didn't--I mean, I did, but--it was him, all him. I didn't, really, I didn't want to--" He stops, glancing downward and avoiding Brijana's eyes. "We lost, we lost--never had a chance and I'm glad," he finishes after a moment. "I don't want to go to Ista again."
Brijana's hand stiffens, the one petting Alidaeth and the one at R'dur's cheek, and while the moment is just a split second, the hesitation and tenseness was there. Mothering instincts though return in full force, and the hand at the brown's hide comes up to clasp the rider's cheeks together, the palms surprisingly cool given her sunbathing state. "You don't have to apologize. I understand. I mean, I... I understand, and if I didn't, I'd try to." Hope rises, twisting around the strangled jealousy that just manages to be kept down, and a softer smile smooths out Bri's looks into, at least for the moment, acceptance. A thumb caresses R'dur's cheek, moving slowly up and then all the way down to play against his chin. "Are *you* fine?"
"It's still--" R'dur begins, frowning as he can't get out the right words. "I didn't go for that. I just... Alidaeth took advantage of the opportunity," he finally explains. Then, near-flinching, the tightly-wound brownrider glances upward at Brijana's face again, hesitating. "I--I'm fine," is his eventual, struggling, answer. "I'm fine. I should... maybe I should just--by the lake?"
Brijana's patient enough to let him stammer for only so long, before both hands become firmer in their grip of R'dur's cheeks and she leans up to plant a warm, lingering kiss onto his lips. The hands only remain there as long as they're needed to kill any protest he may have before sliding down to the brownrider's chest, and then back around to embrace him close. "Now," she drawls softly, lashes lowered with just enough coyness to be flirtatious, "Why'd you want to go to the lake?"
R'dur has no defense against such a kiss; he melts just that easily into Brijana's touch, eyes closing as he savors the moment. Then, as she pulls away, he peeks back at her, answering after a moment of feigned hard thought. "I... forget? Let's--" Once more, he doesn't finish, but this time, there's action to complete the sentence for him: he reaches for Brijana's hand to tug her inside.
Brijana gets a nip in at R'dur's earlobe before she's willingly led off, cozying into the brownrider's side. That she's also trying to work his shirt off before they get back into the weyr says a lot for her naughty state of mind. Tonight is definitely a night where St'vren shouldn't be visiting.