[Log] I Wouldn't Want to Keep You
Who: R'dur, Yselle
When: Day 16, Month 4, Turn 7, 11th Interval
Where: Gardens, Telgar Weyr
What: Yselle comes to apologize.
Telgar's Weyrgardens
Here, the rocky hillside of the Telgar volcano has been cleared and terraced into several cascading gardens. Stone walls have been built and the resulting shelves filled in with fertile earth from the Telgar Plains, supplemented by fertilizer from the compost heap. Waterways have been carved into the stone of the mountain to divert water to some gardens and away from others. In the winter, straw and burlap tarps cover the ground and protect it, but once spring arrives, this is as lush a place as any at the Weyr.
"I do not care how pretty Ista's are," declares R'dur firmly at the edge of the Weyr's gardens, staring at a lounging Alidaeth. "We are never going back there. I can't take you anywhere! ... You know what St'vren said--okay, /I/ know what St'vren said. This is... yes, it's penance, all right?" The brownrider frowns at his dragon a moment long, then turns, walking away through the gardens.
"Why aren't you going back to Ista?" Normal people lean against trees, but Yselle is perched half-way up one. "And what /did/ St'vren say?"
With a most unmanly yelp, R'dur leaps backward from that tree, eyes widening as he settles into a wary, ready-to-run posture. After a second, though, he takes a deep breath and relaxes, flushing brightly. "Ys--Yselle," he squeaks. Clearing his throat: "We--we can't. I mean, we can, but I don't--I don't want to. Bad things happen at Ista. Bad things happen everywhere, actually, but last time we were at Ista..." A shake of his head. Finally, getting to the point, he notes glumly, "Nalaieth rose."
"You might have to go back to Ista," isn't Yselle just the picture of reasonableness today? "I mean, you /are/ a wingsecond." She's sitting at about head height. "Nalaieth rose," she repeats, "And presumably Alidaeth chased," a wry expression tugs at her lip for a moment, but she continues, "And presumably lost, since I haven't heard T'bay complain about losing his 'second. Usually, I don't know whether to congratulate or commiserate, but in your case, congratulations, I hope it all wasn't too uncomfortable for you?"
R'dur, still flushed, nods once, not looking up at Yselle. "I know. And--no worse than any other, I don't suppose, for all it was a gold. Thank you." He shifts his weight, looking as uncomfortable as ever when faced with the weyrsecond.
"Yes, well, I /actually/ wanted to apologise for snapping your head off the other day when Varian was here," Yselle says smoothly, as though that fit into the conversation somewhere. "Shouldn't have taken my tiredness out on you. - So, Brijana forgiven you yet?"
R'dur, surprised, shoots a glance up at Yslle, brows knitting. Then, just as quickly, he slide his hands into his pocket and glances around as though she'd said nothing particularly interesting. "Ah, it's all right. I, uh... Well. Never mind it. Brijana is... Yes, we're fine," he answers firmly.
Yselle tilts her head at him quizzically. She opens her mouth, closes it, stares at a leaf for a while and then asks mildly, "So, do you think you're ever going to get used to it?"
R'dur frowns, eyes cutting sideways again. "Get used to what?" he asks, deliberately ignorant.
"Do you realise," Yselle's all conversational now, "That /no/ good came out of that time we were together? Except if you count Ysalia, but aside from that."
"Is this a new insight of yours, then?" replies R'dur, equally mildly.
Giving him a long look, Yselle says, "Well, as long as you're happy," her tone is doubtful.
"I am, Yselle," R'dur tells her, with a small, peace-making smile.
"Good," Yselle keeps her tone mild, and if she doesn't sound convinced, well. "You should probably know that Dianneth's due to start glowing any day now. I wouldn't want you to be caught unawares."
R'dur nods. "Ah, thanks. For the warning, that is. I'll make sure Alidaeth doesn't get any ideas about that," he agrees.
That comment by any other malerider might just be enough to insult the weyrsecond, as it is, Yselle takes it on the chin, nodding and reaching out for a flower on the branch she's on. "Don't forget to avoid me whilst I'm proddy," how incredibly helpful she's being.
"Oh, right. That, too," R'dur concedes, nodding again. "I'll be careful, don't worry."
"Good," Yselle stands up on the branch, causing it to sway wildly for a moment, the leaves whooshing in the air. "Oh and you know, if you could /possibly/ refrain from ruining my dates, I'd appreciate it."
R'dur stiffens, frown returning at the chancge in subject. "Yes, ma'am,", he replies after a moment, the title a sign of his displeasure. But, after a moment, with a forced shrug, he turns away and relaxes by increments. "Is that all, then? I wouldn't want to keep you."
"Oh get over it, R'dur. Whether I sleep with him or not is none of your sharding business," Yselle says with false sweetness. "It's not like he's /your/ husband." She jumps down off the branch, producing a dust cloud in the air. "And I'll tell you something for free. We have a /daughter/. You don't get to just walk away from me, nor I from you," she mutters something there, it might sound like "Unfortunately" to the suspicious. Louder, she says, "So it's about time you just accepted me for the way I am, or at least ignored what you don't like. Faranth knows I do it with you."
R'dur's frown deepends, but rather than snap back a reply, he is silent for ten very deliberate seconds--probably counting them off in his head. Then: "Good day, Yselle."
Rolling her eyes, Yselle snaps, "Well if it means nothing to you that our daughter might be affected by our relationship, it certainly doesn't to me! Shells, I am /tired/ of trying to keep the peace with you, wingsecond!"
"/I/," R'dur answers those charges, "am not arguing with you now."
"Of course you aren't," Yselle takes a deep breath, lets it go, "I'm not having this discussion with you. I've got work to do."
R'dur nods again. "Good day, Yselle," he repeats, turning to leave.
"Don't let me keep you," Yselle says, clambering up the tree like she has prehensile toes. Soon she's disappearing into the upper branches.
Dragon> Dianneth bespoke Alidaeth with << So, your rider really /is/ an idiot. >>
Alidaeth> Dianneth senses that Alidaeth gives no answer, only a hint of his rider's irritation sinking through his mind.
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Dianneth's mind tones are haughty. If there's irritation, it's all his rider's fault.