Serious Subjects
Who: Noemie, Nelyo, Dalanor
What: A lighthearted evening conversation on the beach turns serious.
Where: Ista Weyr Beach
When: Day 16, month 2, Turn 13, of the Interval. It is a winter evening.
Ista Weyr Beach: North
Sunset at the beach: as the cool wind blows in from over the waters, the
sallow sun slips below the wave-tossed sea that fades from green to black.
The light of Rukbat washes the beach, the forests to your south, and the
great black rock of the Weyr behind you in crimson light. The stars climb up
over the Weyr and the plateau to your east, rising above the mist cast by
the dancing waterfall that glows in a million firey rainbows. The black
sands of the beach stretch for kilometres to the north and south, following
the shoreline of the plateau. Below the pastel beauty of the blue-green
sunset sky to the west, the dark smudges of the Ista Isles float on the sea,
like the coils of some mythical monster.
The dry winter season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with
light, buoyant air. As the sun sets, a gray blanket of clouds dominates the
sky and a turbulent wind gusts violently, howling around the peaks of the
Weyr.
Dusk, that strange time between day and night...and it finds the beach at Ista
not QUITE deserted. One lingers here, a tall young man with deep auburn hair
and a Candidate's knot on one shoulder and a green firelizard upon the
other, standing there staring out over the waves, seemingly lost in thought.
By him rests a sketchpad and a charcoal stick. On the pad is a half-finished
picture, one of Tegara and Noemie standing together, wicked mischevious
grins on their faces.
In the twilight, another figure makes its way down the Istan beach. Far down
in the distance, the figure of a green dragon can just be made out, and it's
her rider that approaches the Candidate now. The rider's approach is not a
direct one, but rather, a meandering one, and she walks near the shoreline
thoughtfully, kicking up sand with her feet as she goes. She squints, just
barely able to make out the figure of the candidate as she approaches, and
although she can't discern a face, she gives him a wave.
The Candidate startles out of his mood and returns the wave with a wave of his
unfirelizard-encumbered arm and a soft "H'lo."...the musical bass of the
voice giving his identity away. Nelyo is there...with the ever-present
Leeanna at his side.
Noemie, her harper training never having completely faded, readily recognizes
the voice before she can make out Nelyo's face. "Good evening, Candidate,"
comes her cheerful greeting. "How's your little green?" She approaches more
directly, now that she has a destination, and upon reaching Nelyo, can't
help but take a peek at his sketchpad. "I have to say, those two look
awfully familiar," is her amused response to what she can see of the sketch
emerging from the charcoal and paper.
Nelyo turns and has a smile for Noemie but it does not reach his eyes, which
hold sadness. "Good evening, Ma'am," he says softly. "Leeanna's doing well,
fit and curious and always getting into trouble. Hungry as ever but at least
she sleeps through the night now." At Noemie's comment on his art he
promptly turns crimson. "I hope it's a good likeness since I'm doing it from
memory..."
"I'm glad to hear it!" Noemie says upon the news that Leeanna is doing well.
"That's just about normal for a growing firelizard. You're lucky that she
sleeps through the night! My little blue seemed to take forever to do that."
She peers a bit closer at the drawing. "Very good, I'd say. I mean, I knew
who it was right off the bat. That's a good thing, right?" Her expression
turns thoughtful and curious as she continues to look. "Do we always look
that mischievous? Or is it only when we're together?"
Leeanna chirps a greeting to Noemie but doesn't leave her perch on Nelyo's
shoulder. "Actually I'm not sure she's sleeping through the night. I leave
her a bowl of meat scraps before I go to bed so she can feed herself instead
of rousing me and the bowl's empty every morning but I've got a feeling
someone else's firelizard might be having a snack attack in the wee hours."
He smiles broadly. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad you like it. And when you two
are together...that's how you look. I wasn't intending that that one ever be
seen. I was just drawing it to take my mind off things. My own amusement."
Noemie laughs, taking a seat on the ground and settling herself carefully, her
pregnant self far more ungainly than she normally is. "I'm sorry if I
intruded on your privacy by looking. But I'm always curious to see artwork
like that. I can't draw very well, myself, so I appreciate that others can."
After a moment, she's seated herself comfortably, her legs folded beneath
her. "Putting out a bowl of meat? Now /that/ is a smart idea. If I impress
another one, I'll have to remember that."
Nelyo nods. "It's all right, ma'am," he says gently. "I was kind of feeling in
need of company that could talk anyway. Leeanna tries but she can't speak to
me." He gently strokes the green's flank. "Though seeing you does bring back
some memories."
Noemie and Nelyo are sitting on the beach, having a quiet conversation as the
evening falls. "Firelizards can't speak to you like dragons can, but their
intense emotion does feel like nice company, doesn't it?" Noemie asks. "Not
exactly the same as someone you can talk to, but you're certainly not
alone." From her words it's clear that she's picked up on the Candidate's
loneliness, and sympathizes best she can. "What sort of memories?" She asks
carefully, uncertain if it's a welcome question or not.
Nelyo hesitates a moment before answering. "You look a little like Mom, ma'am,
and she was in your condition when she died." He shakes his head sadly.
"Seven Turns ago this day she died birthing my sister Nienna. Nienna came
early by a month and Mom bled out too much. Mom was the only source of love
in our home. Father is all business and money."
Dalanor walks the beach barefoot, his sandals slung over a shoulder, while his
fire lizard companions flit about playing in the surf. The black sand of
Ista squishes up between his toes as he pauses to let a wave wash over his
ankles. Noting the presence of Naijath in the distance, he lifts a hand and
waves towards the dragon. Perhaps sure that her rider is not far away.
Noemie is not prepared for what Nelyo says, but hides her surprise as best she
can-- the most telling sign being the hand that flies to her stomach
protectively. "I'm so sorry," she says softly. "It's a hard thing, isn't it?
No matter how much time passes." She sees the approaching figure of Dalanor
and gives him a wave. It's a slightly solemn motion, given the tone of the
conversation.
Nelyo nods solemnly, almost grimly. "It is very hard," he says quietly, more
quietly than usual. "You never really forget. I was with her the moment she
died...I didn't want her dying alone and I got in a huge fight with my
father for it." He shakes his head sharply and Leeanna croons softly, sadly,
trying to comfort. "Yes, yes," he says softly, stroking the tiny green. "I
know. I know." Noemie's gesture catches his eye and he smiles grimly. "You
won't die, Ma'am. You're young and strong. Mom was weak...Father wore her
out with too many pregnancies." Dalanor is spotted and he gives his fellow
Candidate a wave and a softly-spoken "H'lo." On Nelyo's shoulder Leeanna
cheeples. "What is it?" he asks his green. "Oh! Right you are, I did work
through dinner again. You're hungry and need to be fed. May I be excused,
Ma'am? Leeanna's stomach needs tending and it probably wouldn't hurt if I
tended mine as well. Would you like a copy of the sketch, when it's done?"
Dalanor doesn't arrive in time to catch the words but the somber expression on
everyone's face brings a pause to his burgeoning smile. "Evening, Naijath,
Noemie. Nelyo." He gives a half bow to the dragon and rider. Nelyo getting a
nod and a smile. "See you back at the cots, Nel." He seems intent on
lingering a moment.
"I'll be fine," Noemie says, a bit more bravely than she might actually feel.
"I've had two already, both fine healthy girls. I'm an old pro!" She gives
Nelyo a nod as he takes his leave. "Of course. Feed her well, and yourself,
too. And yes, I would love a copy! Maybe I'll give it to Tegs as a surprise.
Or keep it. I'll see." A bit more solemnly, "But really, Nelyo, if you'd
like to talk later, I'm ready with a listening ear." She bids farewell to
one Candidate, then turns to greet another. "Evening, Dalanor. Naijath bids
you the same."
Nelyo gathers up his sketchpad and charcoal stick and rises. "Good evening,
Ma'am, and see you back at the cots, Dalanor. And yes, Ma'am, let's talk
later...I so rarely get a chance to talk about Mom. Most people don't want
to listen to another's sorrows so I keep mine to myself and get on with my
life." A wave of one hand and a goodbye trill from Leeanna and Nelyo is
walking back up the path to the plateau. "Oh Ma'am," he calls back over his
shoulder, "If you were wondering...Mom's name was Leeanna. Good evening to
you and Naijath.""
Dalanor watches Nelyo depart with a pensive expression. "You know.. it rather
puts life in perspective." He offers soberly to no one. "You have a moment?
I'd like to talk to you about... something serious." He turns about to face
Noemie and smiles faintly. Its clear in his eyes that he means serious
though.
Noemie nods slightly as she watches the Candidate departing, then turns to
focus her attention on Dalanor. She catches the tone in his voice quickly,
and her own has a slight tone of nervousness as she tries to joke. "Serious?
Seems like there's been a whole lot of that this evening."
Dalanor chuckles. "Well. Not /deathly/ so. I'll survive." He takes a deep
breath and looks about to see where his companions have gotten off to. Seems
they've caught a large fish between them and are presently gorging. "Its
about Emmi."
Noemie's curiosity is piqued. "About my sister? What about her?" She seems to
not have noticed the firelizards down the beach at all, eager to hear this
news and relieve her mind that it isn't /deathly/ serious. She opens her
mouth to attempt at another joke, but closes it again without saying
anything.
Dalanor sits down on the sand, brushing off his hands once he's settled. "What
can you tell me about her? Personally that is. I know its an odd question to
ask out of the blue but... I'm trying to make up my mind about something and
the more I know the better."
Noemie doesn't answer the question right away, giving it thought. Finally, she
says, "It may be odd for me to be saying this, Dalanor, but for all that
Emmi and I are close as sisters, I haven't lived with her since I left the
Hall turns ago. All that I could say of her personality, I'm sure that you
could say just as well." One hand is placed firmly on her stomach, and it's
here that her gaze is focused.
Dalanor is quiet a while, picking up a bit of driftwood near him and drawing
in the sand between his knees. "I was afraid you'd say that." He exhales
heavily. "Alright. Different question. Lets say she kissed a guy. On the
lips. Is that the sort of thing she'd do for sympathy or because she
actually cared about them?"
"I'm not sure," Noemie says, trying to envision the different possible
scenarios. "The one thing I can say is that Emmi can be loving to a fault.
She shows care and affection when and where it's needed. That doesn't
necessarily translate into--" she pauses, trying to choose the right words
to explain what she means. "You know, romantic love. But it could, I
suppose. I admit, it's one topic that she never opens up to me on."
Dalanor digs the stick into the sand a few inches before relenting. "One she's
been rather vague with me on, too." He replies cryptically.
Noemie shrugs slightly. "That's just her way, I suppose. She always lets me
carry on that topic all on my own. I've plenty to say on that subject in my
own life. And I'm such an open book. It's one of those ways in which we're
completely different." Her tone is contemplative, considering those
differences between her and her sister as she speaks the words out loud.
Dalanor leans on the stick before him. "How about this. If I loved her, but
she says to me that her feelings are conflicted. That there's another man
involved and she's not sure which of us she cares more for. Would you a, run
for the hills? b, write her a letter professing your love?"
Noemie closes her eyes, trying to put herself in that position, trying to
imagine what she /would/, in fact, do. "I think I would give her time," she
says finally. She rises then, taking her time to do so, trying to stay
steady as she moves a bit awkwardly with her unfamiliar bulk. "It's gotten
late, and I'm supposed to be getting all the sleep I can. Goodnight,
Dalanor. I hope my sister grants you some answers soon." With a final wave,
she sets off again down the beach, back to where her dragon has been dozing
on the sand.
"Goodnight Noemie." Dalanor offers dazedly. "I'll just sit here a bit if you
don't mind. I'll come back before too late. Don't need to get in trouble for
violating curfew." He sighs at that. Its always something.
What: A lighthearted evening conversation on the beach turns serious.
Where: Ista Weyr Beach
When: Day 16, month 2, Turn 13, of the Interval. It is a winter evening.
Ista Weyr Beach: North
Sunset at the beach: as the cool wind blows in from over the waters, the
sallow sun slips below the wave-tossed sea that fades from green to black.
The light of Rukbat washes the beach, the forests to your south, and the
great black rock of the Weyr behind you in crimson light. The stars climb up
over the Weyr and the plateau to your east, rising above the mist cast by
the dancing waterfall that glows in a million firey rainbows. The black
sands of the beach stretch for kilometres to the north and south, following
the shoreline of the plateau. Below the pastel beauty of the blue-green
sunset sky to the west, the dark smudges of the Ista Isles float on the sea,
like the coils of some mythical monster.
The dry winter season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with
light, buoyant air. As the sun sets, a gray blanket of clouds dominates the
sky and a turbulent wind gusts violently, howling around the peaks of the
Weyr.
Dusk, that strange time between day and night...and it finds the beach at Ista
not QUITE deserted. One lingers here, a tall young man with deep auburn hair
and a Candidate's knot on one shoulder and a green firelizard upon the
other, standing there staring out over the waves, seemingly lost in thought.
By him rests a sketchpad and a charcoal stick. On the pad is a half-finished
picture, one of Tegara and Noemie standing together, wicked mischevious
grins on their faces.
In the twilight, another figure makes its way down the Istan beach. Far down
in the distance, the figure of a green dragon can just be made out, and it's
her rider that approaches the Candidate now. The rider's approach is not a
direct one, but rather, a meandering one, and she walks near the shoreline
thoughtfully, kicking up sand with her feet as she goes. She squints, just
barely able to make out the figure of the candidate as she approaches, and
although she can't discern a face, she gives him a wave.
The Candidate startles out of his mood and returns the wave with a wave of his
unfirelizard-encumbered arm and a soft "H'lo."...the musical bass of the
voice giving his identity away. Nelyo is there...with the ever-present
Leeanna at his side.
Noemie, her harper training never having completely faded, readily recognizes
the voice before she can make out Nelyo's face. "Good evening, Candidate,"
comes her cheerful greeting. "How's your little green?" She approaches more
directly, now that she has a destination, and upon reaching Nelyo, can't
help but take a peek at his sketchpad. "I have to say, those two look
awfully familiar," is her amused response to what she can see of the sketch
emerging from the charcoal and paper.
Nelyo turns and has a smile for Noemie but it does not reach his eyes, which
hold sadness. "Good evening, Ma'am," he says softly. "Leeanna's doing well,
fit and curious and always getting into trouble. Hungry as ever but at least
she sleeps through the night now." At Noemie's comment on his art he
promptly turns crimson. "I hope it's a good likeness since I'm doing it from
memory..."
"I'm glad to hear it!" Noemie says upon the news that Leeanna is doing well.
"That's just about normal for a growing firelizard. You're lucky that she
sleeps through the night! My little blue seemed to take forever to do that."
She peers a bit closer at the drawing. "Very good, I'd say. I mean, I knew
who it was right off the bat. That's a good thing, right?" Her expression
turns thoughtful and curious as she continues to look. "Do we always look
that mischievous? Or is it only when we're together?"
Leeanna chirps a greeting to Noemie but doesn't leave her perch on Nelyo's
shoulder. "Actually I'm not sure she's sleeping through the night. I leave
her a bowl of meat scraps before I go to bed so she can feed herself instead
of rousing me and the bowl's empty every morning but I've got a feeling
someone else's firelizard might be having a snack attack in the wee hours."
He smiles broadly. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad you like it. And when you two
are together...that's how you look. I wasn't intending that that one ever be
seen. I was just drawing it to take my mind off things. My own amusement."
Noemie laughs, taking a seat on the ground and settling herself carefully, her
pregnant self far more ungainly than she normally is. "I'm sorry if I
intruded on your privacy by looking. But I'm always curious to see artwork
like that. I can't draw very well, myself, so I appreciate that others can."
After a moment, she's seated herself comfortably, her legs folded beneath
her. "Putting out a bowl of meat? Now /that/ is a smart idea. If I impress
another one, I'll have to remember that."
Nelyo nods. "It's all right, ma'am," he says gently. "I was kind of feeling in
need of company that could talk anyway. Leeanna tries but she can't speak to
me." He gently strokes the green's flank. "Though seeing you does bring back
some memories."
Noemie and Nelyo are sitting on the beach, having a quiet conversation as the
evening falls. "Firelizards can't speak to you like dragons can, but their
intense emotion does feel like nice company, doesn't it?" Noemie asks. "Not
exactly the same as someone you can talk to, but you're certainly not
alone." From her words it's clear that she's picked up on the Candidate's
loneliness, and sympathizes best she can. "What sort of memories?" She asks
carefully, uncertain if it's a welcome question or not.
Nelyo hesitates a moment before answering. "You look a little like Mom, ma'am,
and she was in your condition when she died." He shakes his head sadly.
"Seven Turns ago this day she died birthing my sister Nienna. Nienna came
early by a month and Mom bled out too much. Mom was the only source of love
in our home. Father is all business and money."
Dalanor walks the beach barefoot, his sandals slung over a shoulder, while his
fire lizard companions flit about playing in the surf. The black sand of
Ista squishes up between his toes as he pauses to let a wave wash over his
ankles. Noting the presence of Naijath in the distance, he lifts a hand and
waves towards the dragon. Perhaps sure that her rider is not far away.
Noemie is not prepared for what Nelyo says, but hides her surprise as best she
can-- the most telling sign being the hand that flies to her stomach
protectively. "I'm so sorry," she says softly. "It's a hard thing, isn't it?
No matter how much time passes." She sees the approaching figure of Dalanor
and gives him a wave. It's a slightly solemn motion, given the tone of the
conversation.
Nelyo nods solemnly, almost grimly. "It is very hard," he says quietly, more
quietly than usual. "You never really forget. I was with her the moment she
died...I didn't want her dying alone and I got in a huge fight with my
father for it." He shakes his head sharply and Leeanna croons softly, sadly,
trying to comfort. "Yes, yes," he says softly, stroking the tiny green. "I
know. I know." Noemie's gesture catches his eye and he smiles grimly. "You
won't die, Ma'am. You're young and strong. Mom was weak...Father wore her
out with too many pregnancies." Dalanor is spotted and he gives his fellow
Candidate a wave and a softly-spoken "H'lo." On Nelyo's shoulder Leeanna
cheeples. "What is it?" he asks his green. "Oh! Right you are, I did work
through dinner again. You're hungry and need to be fed. May I be excused,
Ma'am? Leeanna's stomach needs tending and it probably wouldn't hurt if I
tended mine as well. Would you like a copy of the sketch, when it's done?"
Dalanor doesn't arrive in time to catch the words but the somber expression on
everyone's face brings a pause to his burgeoning smile. "Evening, Naijath,
Noemie. Nelyo." He gives a half bow to the dragon and rider. Nelyo getting a
nod and a smile. "See you back at the cots, Nel." He seems intent on
lingering a moment.
"I'll be fine," Noemie says, a bit more bravely than she might actually feel.
"I've had two already, both fine healthy girls. I'm an old pro!" She gives
Nelyo a nod as he takes his leave. "Of course. Feed her well, and yourself,
too. And yes, I would love a copy! Maybe I'll give it to Tegs as a surprise.
Or keep it. I'll see." A bit more solemnly, "But really, Nelyo, if you'd
like to talk later, I'm ready with a listening ear." She bids farewell to
one Candidate, then turns to greet another. "Evening, Dalanor. Naijath bids
you the same."
Nelyo gathers up his sketchpad and charcoal stick and rises. "Good evening,
Ma'am, and see you back at the cots, Dalanor. And yes, Ma'am, let's talk
later...I so rarely get a chance to talk about Mom. Most people don't want
to listen to another's sorrows so I keep mine to myself and get on with my
life." A wave of one hand and a goodbye trill from Leeanna and Nelyo is
walking back up the path to the plateau. "Oh Ma'am," he calls back over his
shoulder, "If you were wondering...Mom's name was Leeanna. Good evening to
you and Naijath.""
Dalanor watches Nelyo depart with a pensive expression. "You know.. it rather
puts life in perspective." He offers soberly to no one. "You have a moment?
I'd like to talk to you about... something serious." He turns about to face
Noemie and smiles faintly. Its clear in his eyes that he means serious
though.
Noemie nods slightly as she watches the Candidate departing, then turns to
focus her attention on Dalanor. She catches the tone in his voice quickly,
and her own has a slight tone of nervousness as she tries to joke. "Serious?
Seems like there's been a whole lot of that this evening."
Dalanor chuckles. "Well. Not /deathly/ so. I'll survive." He takes a deep
breath and looks about to see where his companions have gotten off to. Seems
they've caught a large fish between them and are presently gorging. "Its
about Emmi."
Noemie's curiosity is piqued. "About my sister? What about her?" She seems to
not have noticed the firelizards down the beach at all, eager to hear this
news and relieve her mind that it isn't /deathly/ serious. She opens her
mouth to attempt at another joke, but closes it again without saying
anything.
Dalanor sits down on the sand, brushing off his hands once he's settled. "What
can you tell me about her? Personally that is. I know its an odd question to
ask out of the blue but... I'm trying to make up my mind about something and
the more I know the better."
Noemie doesn't answer the question right away, giving it thought. Finally, she
says, "It may be odd for me to be saying this, Dalanor, but for all that
Emmi and I are close as sisters, I haven't lived with her since I left the
Hall turns ago. All that I could say of her personality, I'm sure that you
could say just as well." One hand is placed firmly on her stomach, and it's
here that her gaze is focused.
Dalanor is quiet a while, picking up a bit of driftwood near him and drawing
in the sand between his knees. "I was afraid you'd say that." He exhales
heavily. "Alright. Different question. Lets say she kissed a guy. On the
lips. Is that the sort of thing she'd do for sympathy or because she
actually cared about them?"
"I'm not sure," Noemie says, trying to envision the different possible
scenarios. "The one thing I can say is that Emmi can be loving to a fault.
She shows care and affection when and where it's needed. That doesn't
necessarily translate into--" she pauses, trying to choose the right words
to explain what she means. "You know, romantic love. But it could, I
suppose. I admit, it's one topic that she never opens up to me on."
Dalanor digs the stick into the sand a few inches before relenting. "One she's
been rather vague with me on, too." He replies cryptically.
Noemie shrugs slightly. "That's just her way, I suppose. She always lets me
carry on that topic all on my own. I've plenty to say on that subject in my
own life. And I'm such an open book. It's one of those ways in which we're
completely different." Her tone is contemplative, considering those
differences between her and her sister as she speaks the words out loud.
Dalanor leans on the stick before him. "How about this. If I loved her, but
she says to me that her feelings are conflicted. That there's another man
involved and she's not sure which of us she cares more for. Would you a, run
for the hills? b, write her a letter professing your love?"
Noemie closes her eyes, trying to put herself in that position, trying to
imagine what she /would/, in fact, do. "I think I would give her time," she
says finally. She rises then, taking her time to do so, trying to stay
steady as she moves a bit awkwardly with her unfamiliar bulk. "It's gotten
late, and I'm supposed to be getting all the sleep I can. Goodnight,
Dalanor. I hope my sister grants you some answers soon." With a final wave,
she sets off again down the beach, back to where her dragon has been dozing
on the sand.
"Goodnight Noemie." Dalanor offers dazedly. "I'll just sit here a bit if you
don't mind. I'll come back before too late. Don't need to get in trouble for
violating curfew." He sighs at that. Its always something.