Log: Fishrolls and Cheese
Who: C'len, X'lar, P'draig
When: 10/15/17
Where: Garden and Pool, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy catches up with C'len and X'lar. Fishrolls and cheese are shared as well as conversation about things in common and things not. After C'len heads home, the talk between X'lar and Paddy turns frank about N'thei, the Reaches, Lujayn and Paddy and Mic.
Frank talk about relationships and a little about sex at the end.
Garden and Pool, Ista Weyr(#456RJ)
From bowl to waterfall, the gardens of Ista stretch out across the plateau. Nearest the bowl are the practical plants--the herbs and crops and an orchard of fruit trees--but the closer to the stream one ventures, the more fanciful the foliage becomes. Lush dark leaves, flowers as big as a hand, jungle creepers hanging from old-growth trees--like most of Ista, the plant life grows rampant here, everything outsized and richly green. The streambanks in particular are impressively overgrown, until every rock is moss-covered and pockets of still water in pools on the banks teem with algae.
Only the waterfall itself seems to have escaped the onslaught of flora, cutting a channel through the rock and falling toward the pool below. The craggy cliffs leading downward post a number of places to sit and swing your feet, or to wade in the shallow puddles that collect in dips in rocks and around the edges of the water. For all the cliffs and their outcroppings, however, the best way down is still the steep, slick stairs switchbacking down the rock face.
It's on the late side but there's someone swimming in the pool nevertheless, moonlight shimmering on water as the motion within makes waves. Jekzith is curled up near the edge of the cliff where the fall tumbles over the edge into nothing, the brown looking down-down-down. Paddy's doing laps, white towel a banner hanging from a tree.
C'len makes his way down the cliffside stair to the edge of the pool where Paddy swims. No dragon with him: Vil's likely lolling on a ledge somewhere, attempting to stay cool. His rider, though, seems cheery enough, whistling a soft tune as he saunters down, a small basket carried with him.
People coming from all over, apparently, as X'lar is leisurely meandering his way over the cliffside stairs toward the garden and Pool. The Weyrleader's humming is first to be heard before the teenaged bronzerider spots the swimming Paddy. Much like C'len, there's no bronze with him, but that might be because of the tight space of the stairs bars Mal from joining in the fun. There's a glance upward to the moonlit sky from the teen and a brief smile before his attention shifts back to C'len, giving the older bronzer a quick nod. "Evening sir," Xie offers. "And P'draig." The latter is added hastily, making X'lar grin.
P'draig pauses at the end of the pool, arms folding on its edge and he wipes water out of his eyes, catches his name and then humming and squints through the moonlight. It's likely Jekzith who identifies the riders for him. "C'len, sir, good evening, and hey there X'lar. Out for a moonlight walk?"
"Midnight snack," C'len says with a grin, lifting the basket to indicate it. The rider shucks his boots, rolling up his pants high enough that he can sit at the edge of the pool and dip his feet in. "You're both welcome to join me, if you'd like?" The rider deposits the basket next to him, resting his arms behind him and leaning back slightly to draw in a long breath of the moist air before letting it out slowly.
"Not hungry," X'lar replies back to the Weyrleader. "But thanks for the offer, sir." The Boll-born rider makes his way to the water and smiles some to both men. And to P'draig: "More out of necessity. Felt like getting some air by way of walking rather than flying." He glances to the moons curiously before looking in the direction of P'draig's voice, asking the brownrider: "How're you tonight, P'draig?"
"Did you make what's in there, or lift it from the kitchen?" P'draig asks the Weyrleader with a grin. "Because if you made it, I have to try it out of you know, semi-professional curiousity," the brownrider continues teasingly. X'lar gets a nod about needing air. "Hear you there, something about walking that lets a man think, yeah?" The former Fortian moves to pull himself up out of the water and sits on the pool's edge. "I'm pretty good thanks, both of you too?"
C'len admits, "I haven't tried out the kitchens here yet. Just visited." The last is said with a laugh, suggesting the food was lifted--maybe even with permission. "I'm getting used to eating lots of fish again," he muses, before continuing with a nod, "Doing good. Still getting my bearings a bit. There're some pretty interesting records in this weyr." He's read a lot of them, recently.
"Never better," X'lar replies to P'draig's latter question promptly, followed by a smile. There's another thoughtful look to the moons again before he nods in agreement, albeit absently, to P'draig's former remark with regard to walking. To C'len, X'lar blinks in surprise, brows climbing upward in curiousity as he asks the former Reachian: "What kind of records, sir?"
"The ovens are pretty good," P'draig notes, "if you can wheedle a shelf in one," he says with a chuckle. "I've been talking to Kip about using the one at the Sandbar. Less demand, maybe, you know?" He nods about bearings and records. "Can't say I've been doing that much reading, but even though I stayed here before, I hear you on getting oriented like that." He smiles for X'lar's answer. "Good to hear it." Then he's up and padding after his towel, pulling the white terry cloth down from the tree branch and rubbing at his hair vigorously first.
C'len follows X'lar's glance up to the moon, but the sky doesn't hold his interest for long. "Oh, right, there's a bigger kitchen over there now," he says to P'draig, considering. "Maybe we should try it out? Help break it in?" But not break it. The rider continues to lean back on his arms, feet idly swishing back and forth in the water. "Well, a lot of old stuff, about tithes and wings and usual stuff. But then there's the records about when there was all that mildew, and then about the dust storms--like when Nala clutched, after Vil flew her the first time--and about various goings-on. It's just really different from the records at High Reaches, I guess."
X'lar chuckles suddenly at something before looking toward P'draig. The younger man seems ready to speak again, but instead just closes his mouth. He pauses and finally admits, "There better be a bigger kitchen there now, if there's anything I looked after during the renovation more it was that." There's a grimace at the thought of the baking riders breaking it but he quickly sobers at hearing C'len's remarks. X'lar nods once more as he tells him: "I was at Honshu's records room not too long ago, theirs is just as different."
"Exactly," P'draig answers C'len, toweling off shoulders and chest next, then leatting the towel hang around his neck as he comes over closer to have a look at the Weyrleader's basket. "See if we can help Kip out," he says with a broad grin and drops down beside the other former Reachian. "The mildew was something else," Paddy notes with a grimace. "What's different about Honshu?" he asks X'lar curiously.
"Oh," C'len says, as if just now making a connection, "Saw Millie at 'Reaches when I went to go see the clutch." There's a nod to X'lar, "His Malsaeth and Lujayn's Rielsath seem to've done a good job." The rider sits up, fiddling with the lid of the basket and drawing out some snacks: fishrolls, a bit of cheese, and a container of juice. He breaks one of the rolls into pieces, popping some of it into his mouth, even polite enough to swallow before he says, "Maybe we can try it out soon here."
"Lots of records about tithes, oddly enough," X'lar notes. "Going farther back than I expected, too. Gave me a fairly good education on them. Copied a lot of the hides too." There's a brief chuckle and the teenager's commenting again on the nature of Honshu's records: "I think I started reading them in the morning and found myself being ushered out at night." Growing thoughtful again, Xie offers to both the men: "The steward wasn't all that pleased. Neither was Malsaeth, for that matter." He smiles briefly at hearing C'len's comment with regard to the clutch at Reaches, nodding once to the Weyrleader before offering, "It was all Rielsath, really. She did do a fantastic job though. Really proud of her and Lu."
"Yeah? Just saw her not that long ago too, but down here. Been giving her rides back pretty often," P'draig says with a low chuckle. "How was the jaunt back to the Reaches? And glad to hear the clutch is looking good," this last directed to both bronzeriders. "Mind sharing the cheese?" he asks C'len with a friendly grin then skips his gaze back to X'lar. "Really? How far back?" And then his eyes crinkle up at the corners as X'lar mentions Lujayn. "I'm proud of Lu too, she's come a long way since she was a skinny kid sitting on a fence rail needing a haircut at Fort. She makes a fine weyrwoman."
"Vil was glad to escape the weather for a bit," C'len says with a laugh. "He'll get used to it eventually, I guess." The rider breaks off some of the cheese, passing it toward P'draig. "The cheese I can share. I'm not sure about the fishrolls, though," he says, face mock-serious. He breaks another in half, and the smell of the delicate spicing wafts up a bit, and whether or not the bronzerider notices the smell he still pops a large piece into his mouth.
"One of the finest," X'lar remarks, smiling warmly at the talk of Lujayn. "Just wish..." He trails off and once again stops himself from talking more. Uncharacteristic of the usually verbose teenager. "Nevermind." But he'll at least talk about the tithing records, saying, "Not /that/ far back. Just around 60 or 75 turns. But it was far back enough for me to see patterns emerge and stuff. Pretty spiffy." The other bronzerider sits up a bit, asking C'len, "Did you just say fishrolls?"
"I've been cooling off at Fort too," P'draig notes about the weather and takes the cheese from C'len. "That's okay about the rolls, I'm good with this," the brownrider claims, lifting that piece in his fingers and taking a healthy bite. P'draig observes X'lar after that abortive sentence. "You'll sort it out," he says lightly with an encourging smile for the youngster, maybe understanding something there. "Patterns. That is pretty interesting. I've never really done that, gone looking for anything like that."
C'len says somewhat reluctantly, though it's belied by the grin on his face. "I guess I have some I could share." The basket's opened further, to reveal quite a collection of fishrolls. Maybe he had to bribe someone in the kitchen for them. "Want some?" He offers the bronze- and brownrider alike, pausing in his consumption to do so. "Some of the old records can be pretty boring though," he notes. "Especially when they talk about supplies and how many bolts of fabric we had six turns ago, and..." he trails off with a grimace.
"Ever since Weyrlinghood," X'lar tells Paddy. "I've kind of abhorred boredom." There's a pause and he shakes his head, amending his previous remark: "Ever since /candidacy/ I've hated being bored." He chuckles softly and concludes: "Which is likely why I have so many projects these days. Miniature ship in pieces on my table, carving more rods and spears than I know what to do with, records-diving like at Honshu and here, writing Malsaeth's stories... the list really goes on." He pauses at C'len, considering those fishrolls very seriously but instead of snagging one, he simply shakes his head and replies back, "No, it's okay. Thanks though, sir." He looks back up reluctantly from the 'rolls to the Weyrleader, shrugging in response to his latter trailed off remark before admitting, "I don't know, I don't think I have ever thought that inventories and such like that were boring at all."
"Don't really know anyone who /likes/ being bored, but that's good you keep yourself busy," P'draig opines about X'lar's choices of occupation, then in spite of prior words, he pops the last of the cheese in his hand into his mouth and does help himself to a fish roll, breaking it in half and taking a whiff of the spicing on the fish itself before having a bite. "Have to hand it to Ista. Cooks here sure do know what do do with a piece of fish to make it taste nice."
C'len shrugs, "It's not so bad to be idle, though. To take some time to rest, relax, think." The rider doesn't comment further about the inventories, merely shrugging again at X'lar. "They're good, aren't they?" He asks, of the fishrolls, polishing off the second half of yet another roll before patting his stomach. "Too much of this, and I might have to take up jogging, like Satiet."
Those eyes of X'lar's keep darting to those fishrolls before they quickly raise up to the sky, giving the darkness above a brief grunt of frustration. Soon, he leans back, using his hands to hold him at a reclined position. He looks back and forth between the two older men, listening to them quietly. There might a frown forming, too.
"I think taking a load off and just ... being is a little different from being bored though," Paddy points out, taking another bite of fish roll. "Very good," the brownrider says with the mouthful swapped into his cheek so he can talk around it. "Swimming," he counters with a grin towards C'len, "since you /can/ the whole turn around down here." The frown on X'lar's face earns a questioning look. "Everything okay?"
C'len nods to both of Paddy's points. "True and true." Nothing more is said as he simply relaxes, his feet still dipped into the pool from the edge. He cocks a brow at first Paddy, then X'lar, not asking anything futher.
"Fine," X'lar remarks. "Well, not fine, to be perfectly honest." There's a brief roll of his shoulders and soon the younger rider comments, "But it is nothing I'm willing to talk about." He gives both older men a brief look of apology before taking a deep breath, enjoying the coolness of the night, silent.
"I've been doing a lot of that. Just being since I transferred," P'draig tells C'len and he grins again. "Feels good." Back to X'lar and he considers the younger bronzerider for a moment, nods acceptance. "Fair enough."
C'len offers, "Well, if there's anything we can do to help--" He breaks off with a shrug, as he slowly draws his feet out of the water, letting them drip dry for a bit. "Between us, we've probably had some of the same problems, I'd guess."
"Thanks," Xie tells Paddy, earnest in his delivery of the one-word response to the brownrider. To C'len, X'lar nods once and tells him: "One day when you're not too busy I might come to you for advice, sir." He gives both men a brief smile and reclines again.
"Sure," P'draig says lightly, smiles over X'lar's way and nods. "Like C'len said, if you do need an ear, just say the word," the brownrider offers as well and pops another bite of fishroll into his mouth. "Clutches at Ista we've got in common, coming from the Reaches, Bakers ... anything else, C'len?" Paddy asks with humor in his voice now.
C'len considers, "Well, I was at Boll before. Have any connections there? Oh, and your family -- mine is much smaller! There's a difference." The man grins, then shakes his head, "I don't know how you keep 'em all straight, really."
X'lar looks to C'len and then back to P'draig and chuckles softly, saying, "I actually have family in Boll. My mom's side. My dad's side is just my grandfather, who's over at High Reaches." There's a snort from the rider and he adds, "A grandfather who's likely ready to whip my rear end, too, I'm sure." He looks back to the sky and then back to the others by the pool, smiling at them.
"Only connection with Boll, is how many drinks I've had at the Lava Lounge," P'draig says with a dry chuckle and a wink. "But you're right, I've got the whole sprawling family going and y'know what? I can't keep track of all my father's kids, so there you go." He finishes off his fish roll and dips his hands into the water to wash off slight traces of grease and crumbs. "Should I ask about the rear-end thing?" Paddy quips teasingly.
"My da still works in the kitchen at Boll," C'len says, "and my ma's a weaver at 'Reaches." The rider doesn't explain any more than that, about his family. The water has dripped enough from his feet, leaving them mostly dry, or at least dry enough that he can slip his boots back on. "I'm not sure I want to hear about the rear-end thing," he jokes, "So I think I'm going to head back to my weyr for the night. Have a good one!" He offers the fishrolls around one last time, before heading back up the stairs.
"My mom's a nanny here, my dad's a brownrider here, my grandfather's a rider at Reaches," X'lar notes. "The cousins and aunts and uncles from my mother's side aren't even worth mentioning, the ignorant..." He trails off and sighs, finally asking the Weyrleader: "Do you have any more of those fishrolls left, C'len?" His hand snakes around to grab one... then another one, before the other bronzer leaves. "Good night, sir." He glances to P'draig and smirks briefly, "My grandfather just wanted me to introduce him to Lu during the party, but I told him not yet. And I think he thought I'd be staying there already, with the eggs already in the sand."
"Kitchens," P'draig nods wisely and shakes water off of his hands while C'len re-boots his feet. A swipe of fingers to towel and Paddy does sneak another roll with one hand while saluting with the other. "Good night, C'len. Clear skies back and my regards to Nolee," he replies to the Weyrleader. X'lar's comments on his family hike heavy brows upwardsd though. "My folks are all at the Reaches, Remi at Harper, Ily at Smith, Millie at the Reaches, one kid here, one kid at Telgar, grandmother at Telgar, other at Benden, one grandfather at Igen and ... I have a half-brother and sister here. Their mother's a baker. But like C'len said, my family tree is too complicated." He munches on the fishroll and looks over at X'lar again. "Lucky you maybe, Rielsath's not demanding him."
"Not sure I'm lucky," X'lar notes. "Any day now I'm going to create an incident between Ista and High Reaches by simply being myself." The last is spoken bitterly. "Honestly? I mean this in the most serious way possible? I would love nothing more than to have Malsaeth on the sands with Rielsath, and for me to be in High Reaches right now. Living temporarily. So that I could talk to Lu, support her while Mal tells stories to Rielsath so she doesn't get bored or whatever. I even have a gift for Lu that I wanted to give her at the party, but she was too busy at the time. Sort of a gift to celebrate her first flight and Rielsath's first clutch." He shakes his head and continues eating. Xie has looser lips after some food has been in him, apparently. "But with Mal banned from the herd, what's stopping N'thei from banning me from the Weyr?" He chomps at the last bite of his first fishroll. "/That/ is what is pissing me off. /That/ is what has been on my mind for days."
"Depends," P'draig answers and starts to say more, then falls silent, listening to X'lar go on. "Seems Rielsath's not a broody queen then so far, which can be a good thing. Not being stuck without being able to leave," the brownride says mildly, has another bite of roll. "But that does sound frustrating, not being able to go when you /want/ to." He sucks flakes of pastry off his thumb and asks the water rather than X'lar directly: "Why're you banned from the herd? And why would he ban you from the Weyr? Did you piss in his morning cereal or something? Or is he just pissed on principle?" The brownrider's gaze then does swing back around to X'lar himself, curious but not intent.
X'lar sighs, saying, "It's my fault. I pushed him once at the Lake Shore. Not physically, it's just..." He trails off and starts again: "N'thei didn't want me getting comfortable. I'd pissed him off, I guess. We'd been talking. And then he decided to tell me that he didn't want Malsaeth eating from the herd. Oh, and that the bar folk would be instructed for me not to run a tab." He rolls his eyes and sighs, saying, "Granted, I know I can be a pain in the ass. But it just seems /wrong/ to me. I don't care about the lack of a tab at the Snowasis." He shakes his head and finally asks rhetorically, "But banning Mal from the herd?!" He sighs and shakes his head, saying, "It doesn't seem right."
P'draig's knees draw upward, his feet finding purchase on the pool's edge and his elbows settle comfortably atop them, hands dangling downward. "Doesn't want you getting comfortable," the brownrider echoes and nods a few times. "Hm. I don't know N'thei well, but based on how he was when he was at Fort, I guess I can kind of understand that attitude. Wyaeth isn't remotely the kind of sire who uh -- sticks around," Paddy aims for diplomatic with that. "Anyway, he might not get that a lot of bronzes are a lot more dedicated, or that they serve the queen the way it sounds like Malsaeth wants to." There's a quiet moment and then Paddy clears his throat. "It is ... a little bit of an insult, technically speaking to do that. Technically." More quiet. "Have you talked this over with the Weyrleaders yet, X'lar?"
X'lar looks in the direction of C'len's departure, hearing Paddy's latter question. "I've told Nolee and Fayre about it," he admits. "Nothing too in depth though." There's a grimace and X'lar states: "I'd been trying to delay talking to C'len if only because I honestly don't know the man. I'm not sure he comes across as accessible. A'son seemed like he was more so. Not that I talked to him much, mind you." He's finishing off his second and last fishroll. "Malsaeth wants what I want. I want to be there for Lu. And I think Malsaeth really likes Rielsath. I mean, he's as proud of her as I am of Lu. He gets restless, too. But I can't imagine him not leaving for good. I mean... it seems stupid for us not to be there for them."
"Mm. C'len's quieter maybe," P'draig says slowly, thinking that through. "I know them both, A'son's kind of quickfire by comparison with C'len, I'd say. I think if you bring this up with him, you'll see some kind of action, once he's thought it through," Paddy opines with a grin. "Sometimes he just needs a little nudge about things. Like when Jekzith caught Nalaieth, that was his nudge to come to Nolee and kind of firm things up between them," the brownrider explains further, "even if I had, you know, no interest in Nolee /that/ way." He flashes the younger man a brief grin and laces his fingers together loosely. "Frankly, if you can work it out with the Reaches Weyrleaders, I think you should be there if it's what you and Malsaeth and Lujayn and Rielsath want. Because in the end, it's their needs and the eggs that matter more than -- well whatever this is with N'thei." He rubs at his chin thoughtfully, then shrugs. "Besides you can always feed Mal back here if Rielsath will let him. Nalaieth keeps her males close. Barely stirred from Ista at all once the eggs were laid." The brownrider chuckles softly. "Except that, speaking of Lu, I snuck out one night to take her to the masque at Benden. Ask her about her runner costume sometime, that was something else."
X'lar listens to P'draig quietly, nodding once then a second time at his initial remarks with regard to the differences between C'len and A'son. "I'm just one guy whose dragon happened to catch a Reachian gold. I don't see why N'thei can't see this. I'm a teenager. 18 turns old. I can't imagine N'thei thinks of me or Malsaeth as a threat, so I'm not really sure what he was thinking. But, at the same time, I am just a rider. It's not like I have much sway in telling N'thei off. It wouldn't be prudent at all." He nods once more, listening to P'draig further. "Snuck out to take her to the masque at Benden," Xie repeats, thoughtful. "Were you and she... close?"
"Mm. I'd think it's a matter for the Weyrleaders at both Weyrs to work out, honestly. It's not typical for the Weyrleader of one place to refuse to feed a guest clutchsire," the brownrider says thoughtfully and takes a deep breath, lets it out. The switch in topic though brings out a fond reminiscent smile. "Friends, X'lar, just friends. I've a good twelve turns on Lu and I've known her since she was just a kid. Jekzith Searched her for Fort one time too, so yes, close, but not /that/ kind of close," Paddy clarifies.
"We're not that close," X'lar admits. "I mean, we barely even talked at the party after the clutching." There's a brief pause from the rider and X'lar finally notes, quiet: "There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for her though. She's incredible." He glances to P'draig curiously, before grinning back at him. "You don't /look/ that old," Xie remarks, making him laugh. "But seriously, can I tell you something else?"
"Sometimes that happens though with that kind of thing," P'draig notes about the party. "You know, social obligations and duty and all that. Not really the best time for getting into things deep," the brownrider says evenly, face showing some wry humor. He smiles though at the younger man, nodding. "Yeah, she's grown into a really lovely young woman," Paddy says with both respect and fondness in his tone now. I'm glad you feel that way about her, that it was someone kind, who cares about her whose dragon caught in that first flight. Worried about it a little. Couldn't help it you know? I've advised so many Weyrlings about it over the turns." He chuckles a little self-deprecatingly. "Anyway, it all worked out for the best I think." Paddy laughs outright about his age and grins back at X'lar. "I'm thirty-one, X'lar. Got tapped for Weyrlingmaster when I was twenty. So yeah, it's not that I'm all that /old/, but I am a lot older than Lu and you." His brows lift, expression inviting whatever it is the younger man is about to say. "Shoot."
X'lar nods once more to P'draig, telling him: "Oh yeah, I understand that." He pauses and goes on to say, "I even understand she's different than any woman I know. That's part of why I like her so much. She's so independent. She loves High Reaches -so- much." There's another pause and then he admits, "It just isn't as physical between us. Which is fine. I think she hasn't got to know me enough yet to really decide whether you know... she wants to be physical with me. I did end up telling her I'd hoped to hug her more." He shrugs, letting his shoulders roll some. "Weyrlingmaster at 20. Wow. And /31/. That's not -that- old." At the brows lifting and the one-word prompt, X'lar grins wide and tells P'draig: "I've always thought that you and T'mic look like a cute couple. Likely one of the most natural pairings I've ever seen between two people."
"She's sweet and independent and smart," P'draig agrees. "It's good she's come to love the Reaches so much, I think she had a tough time with that at first, homesick for Fort." He looks down into the water reminiscent again. "She wrote about it actually, how much she missed it. I came to visit a couple of times, but then she got to feeling like she needed to really commit to the Reaches after she Impressed, focused there, which makes sense. So I guess we're maybe not quite as close as we used to be." Paddy tips a look over at X'lar, listening and nods. "Mm. If you both feel strongly about each other, it'll get there I'm sure. Sometimes girls take a little longer to come around to it," the brownrider states frankly just as his mouth quirks a little. "Yeah. Just circumstances, you know?" ABout his youth when he caught that knot. The last comment brings out a laugh and Paddy scruffs a hand through his hair. "Would you believe that until Mic, I'd never really looked at a guy that way? He'd been hounding me for ages to get in bed with him and I kept saying no and then one night at a party I was having for my Weyrlings no less, he asked me one last time." He winks over at the bronzerider. "Imagine what might've happened if I'd said no again? But you're right, once we got over that hump, shells, it's been as easy as breathing."
"Seriously?" X'lar asks, amazed as he listens to the story of Paddy and Mic. "Wow, I would have never guessed that it took you and Mic that long." There's more laughter from the bronzerider, seemingly a lot more easy going and open now that he's had food. Or perhaps it's simply the company he keeps. "I know that some take longer to get there," the bronzerider finally agrees. "I'm patient. For her, I'd wait turns and turns." He pauses and chuckles softly, suddenly marvelling at his returning sense of humour and current conversation. "Shells, you never seem to take off that teacher hat, huh?" It's a question spoken with great amusement from the bronzerider. "Thanks, P'draig," Xie finally tells him, quiet. "I didn't mean to lay all that on you, but... I think it needed to come out at some point, otherwise I think I'd likely just start screaming." He smirks at himself and reminisces: "Tried that once, my throat never forgave me."
"Seriously. Turns. And at first we both thought it was just going to be, you know, friendly, casual sex. And mostly about me getting over any hangups I had about other men." Gee Paddy. Frank much? "It just kind of ... happened. Turned around one day and realized I wanted to wake up next to him every day of my life." The brownrider's expression is as open as his words, plain old love for his weyrmate showing forth clearly. "You're a good man X'lar for that. While you're working things out. Patience. Good virtue to have." His hand lifts though to cover his face briefly. "Ugh, no, it's kind of so much a part of how I related to people half the time, I don't , I don't know how to shake it. Working on it though, being less teacher and more ... friend?" A grin over X'lar's way follows and he reaches over to squeeze the young man's shoulder lightly. "Yeah, no problem. As long as I'm not buried under Mic or visiting Paige or my kids, just holler if you need an ear. Better than running around with a sore throat for days." Another wink follows then Paddy gets to his feet, roots around in the grass for his sandals. "Speaking of being buried under Mic, he's home, so I'm going to scoot on over. I'll see you around X'lar and if you see Lu before I do, give her my love." So saying, the brownrider heads over to meet Jekzith to head back to his weyr.
X'lar seems nowhere near squeamish at hearing Paddy's frank comments. In fact, if anything the bronzerider invites it. "That's great... that you realized that. I've just always felt that if you and he could make it work, /anyone/ could make it work, you know? You and T'mic give me hope." He smiles again before saying, "I'm a passionate guy, I guess, and I believe in being honest, even if it gets you hurt in the long run." To P'draig, he smiles warmly again and nods once more, "Friend. Wouldn't mind a friend in you, P'draig." There's another chuckle coming from the bronzerider as he hears about being buried under Mic. He nods once more to the brownrider. "I'll be sure to do that for you, P'draig," he tells the former Fortian. "It was good talking to you. G'night."
"We gave you hope?" P'draig just grins as he moves off. "Well that's a really nice thing to hear. Thanks X'lar. If you don't min, I'll let Mic know that too. I think he'd be touched." The brownrider nods about honesty. "Couldn't agree more," he says quietly with just a faint trace of maybe some remembered pain on his face. "Friends, then. And good night, X'lar." The brownrider climbs up Jekzith's side and a moment later the pair are airborn and coasting out over the plateau and turning along the outside edge of Ista's broken cone to find home.
When: 10/15/17
Where: Garden and Pool, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy catches up with C'len and X'lar. Fishrolls and cheese are shared as well as conversation about things in common and things not. After C'len heads home, the talk between X'lar and Paddy turns frank about N'thei, the Reaches, Lujayn and Paddy and Mic.
Frank talk about relationships and a little about sex at the end.
Garden and Pool, Ista Weyr(#456RJ)
From bowl to waterfall, the gardens of Ista stretch out across the plateau. Nearest the bowl are the practical plants--the herbs and crops and an orchard of fruit trees--but the closer to the stream one ventures, the more fanciful the foliage becomes. Lush dark leaves, flowers as big as a hand, jungle creepers hanging from old-growth trees--like most of Ista, the plant life grows rampant here, everything outsized and richly green. The streambanks in particular are impressively overgrown, until every rock is moss-covered and pockets of still water in pools on the banks teem with algae.
Only the waterfall itself seems to have escaped the onslaught of flora, cutting a channel through the rock and falling toward the pool below. The craggy cliffs leading downward post a number of places to sit and swing your feet, or to wade in the shallow puddles that collect in dips in rocks and around the edges of the water. For all the cliffs and their outcroppings, however, the best way down is still the steep, slick stairs switchbacking down the rock face.
It's on the late side but there's someone swimming in the pool nevertheless, moonlight shimmering on water as the motion within makes waves. Jekzith is curled up near the edge of the cliff where the fall tumbles over the edge into nothing, the brown looking down-down-down. Paddy's doing laps, white towel a banner hanging from a tree.
C'len makes his way down the cliffside stair to the edge of the pool where Paddy swims. No dragon with him: Vil's likely lolling on a ledge somewhere, attempting to stay cool. His rider, though, seems cheery enough, whistling a soft tune as he saunters down, a small basket carried with him.
People coming from all over, apparently, as X'lar is leisurely meandering his way over the cliffside stairs toward the garden and Pool. The Weyrleader's humming is first to be heard before the teenaged bronzerider spots the swimming Paddy. Much like C'len, there's no bronze with him, but that might be because of the tight space of the stairs bars Mal from joining in the fun. There's a glance upward to the moonlit sky from the teen and a brief smile before his attention shifts back to C'len, giving the older bronzer a quick nod. "Evening sir," Xie offers. "And P'draig." The latter is added hastily, making X'lar grin.
P'draig pauses at the end of the pool, arms folding on its edge and he wipes water out of his eyes, catches his name and then humming and squints through the moonlight. It's likely Jekzith who identifies the riders for him. "C'len, sir, good evening, and hey there X'lar. Out for a moonlight walk?"
"Midnight snack," C'len says with a grin, lifting the basket to indicate it. The rider shucks his boots, rolling up his pants high enough that he can sit at the edge of the pool and dip his feet in. "You're both welcome to join me, if you'd like?" The rider deposits the basket next to him, resting his arms behind him and leaning back slightly to draw in a long breath of the moist air before letting it out slowly.
"Not hungry," X'lar replies back to the Weyrleader. "But thanks for the offer, sir." The Boll-born rider makes his way to the water and smiles some to both men. And to P'draig: "More out of necessity. Felt like getting some air by way of walking rather than flying." He glances to the moons curiously before looking in the direction of P'draig's voice, asking the brownrider: "How're you tonight, P'draig?"
"Did you make what's in there, or lift it from the kitchen?" P'draig asks the Weyrleader with a grin. "Because if you made it, I have to try it out of you know, semi-professional curiousity," the brownrider continues teasingly. X'lar gets a nod about needing air. "Hear you there, something about walking that lets a man think, yeah?" The former Fortian moves to pull himself up out of the water and sits on the pool's edge. "I'm pretty good thanks, both of you too?"
C'len admits, "I haven't tried out the kitchens here yet. Just visited." The last is said with a laugh, suggesting the food was lifted--maybe even with permission. "I'm getting used to eating lots of fish again," he muses, before continuing with a nod, "Doing good. Still getting my bearings a bit. There're some pretty interesting records in this weyr." He's read a lot of them, recently.
"Never better," X'lar replies to P'draig's latter question promptly, followed by a smile. There's another thoughtful look to the moons again before he nods in agreement, albeit absently, to P'draig's former remark with regard to walking. To C'len, X'lar blinks in surprise, brows climbing upward in curiousity as he asks the former Reachian: "What kind of records, sir?"
"The ovens are pretty good," P'draig notes, "if you can wheedle a shelf in one," he says with a chuckle. "I've been talking to Kip about using the one at the Sandbar. Less demand, maybe, you know?" He nods about bearings and records. "Can't say I've been doing that much reading, but even though I stayed here before, I hear you on getting oriented like that." He smiles for X'lar's answer. "Good to hear it." Then he's up and padding after his towel, pulling the white terry cloth down from the tree branch and rubbing at his hair vigorously first.
C'len follows X'lar's glance up to the moon, but the sky doesn't hold his interest for long. "Oh, right, there's a bigger kitchen over there now," he says to P'draig, considering. "Maybe we should try it out? Help break it in?" But not break it. The rider continues to lean back on his arms, feet idly swishing back and forth in the water. "Well, a lot of old stuff, about tithes and wings and usual stuff. But then there's the records about when there was all that mildew, and then about the dust storms--like when Nala clutched, after Vil flew her the first time--and about various goings-on. It's just really different from the records at High Reaches, I guess."
X'lar chuckles suddenly at something before looking toward P'draig. The younger man seems ready to speak again, but instead just closes his mouth. He pauses and finally admits, "There better be a bigger kitchen there now, if there's anything I looked after during the renovation more it was that." There's a grimace at the thought of the baking riders breaking it but he quickly sobers at hearing C'len's remarks. X'lar nods once more as he tells him: "I was at Honshu's records room not too long ago, theirs is just as different."
"Exactly," P'draig answers C'len, toweling off shoulders and chest next, then leatting the towel hang around his neck as he comes over closer to have a look at the Weyrleader's basket. "See if we can help Kip out," he says with a broad grin and drops down beside the other former Reachian. "The mildew was something else," Paddy notes with a grimace. "What's different about Honshu?" he asks X'lar curiously.
"Oh," C'len says, as if just now making a connection, "Saw Millie at 'Reaches when I went to go see the clutch." There's a nod to X'lar, "His Malsaeth and Lujayn's Rielsath seem to've done a good job." The rider sits up, fiddling with the lid of the basket and drawing out some snacks: fishrolls, a bit of cheese, and a container of juice. He breaks one of the rolls into pieces, popping some of it into his mouth, even polite enough to swallow before he says, "Maybe we can try it out soon here."
"Lots of records about tithes, oddly enough," X'lar notes. "Going farther back than I expected, too. Gave me a fairly good education on them. Copied a lot of the hides too." There's a brief chuckle and the teenager's commenting again on the nature of Honshu's records: "I think I started reading them in the morning and found myself being ushered out at night." Growing thoughtful again, Xie offers to both the men: "The steward wasn't all that pleased. Neither was Malsaeth, for that matter." He smiles briefly at hearing C'len's comment with regard to the clutch at Reaches, nodding once to the Weyrleader before offering, "It was all Rielsath, really. She did do a fantastic job though. Really proud of her and Lu."
"Yeah? Just saw her not that long ago too, but down here. Been giving her rides back pretty often," P'draig says with a low chuckle. "How was the jaunt back to the Reaches? And glad to hear the clutch is looking good," this last directed to both bronzeriders. "Mind sharing the cheese?" he asks C'len with a friendly grin then skips his gaze back to X'lar. "Really? How far back?" And then his eyes crinkle up at the corners as X'lar mentions Lujayn. "I'm proud of Lu too, she's come a long way since she was a skinny kid sitting on a fence rail needing a haircut at Fort. She makes a fine weyrwoman."
"Vil was glad to escape the weather for a bit," C'len says with a laugh. "He'll get used to it eventually, I guess." The rider breaks off some of the cheese, passing it toward P'draig. "The cheese I can share. I'm not sure about the fishrolls, though," he says, face mock-serious. He breaks another in half, and the smell of the delicate spicing wafts up a bit, and whether or not the bronzerider notices the smell he still pops a large piece into his mouth.
"One of the finest," X'lar remarks, smiling warmly at the talk of Lujayn. "Just wish..." He trails off and once again stops himself from talking more. Uncharacteristic of the usually verbose teenager. "Nevermind." But he'll at least talk about the tithing records, saying, "Not /that/ far back. Just around 60 or 75 turns. But it was far back enough for me to see patterns emerge and stuff. Pretty spiffy." The other bronzerider sits up a bit, asking C'len, "Did you just say fishrolls?"
"I've been cooling off at Fort too," P'draig notes about the weather and takes the cheese from C'len. "That's okay about the rolls, I'm good with this," the brownrider claims, lifting that piece in his fingers and taking a healthy bite. P'draig observes X'lar after that abortive sentence. "You'll sort it out," he says lightly with an encourging smile for the youngster, maybe understanding something there. "Patterns. That is pretty interesting. I've never really done that, gone looking for anything like that."
C'len says somewhat reluctantly, though it's belied by the grin on his face. "I guess I have some I could share." The basket's opened further, to reveal quite a collection of fishrolls. Maybe he had to bribe someone in the kitchen for them. "Want some?" He offers the bronze- and brownrider alike, pausing in his consumption to do so. "Some of the old records can be pretty boring though," he notes. "Especially when they talk about supplies and how many bolts of fabric we had six turns ago, and..." he trails off with a grimace.
"Ever since Weyrlinghood," X'lar tells Paddy. "I've kind of abhorred boredom." There's a pause and he shakes his head, amending his previous remark: "Ever since /candidacy/ I've hated being bored." He chuckles softly and concludes: "Which is likely why I have so many projects these days. Miniature ship in pieces on my table, carving more rods and spears than I know what to do with, records-diving like at Honshu and here, writing Malsaeth's stories... the list really goes on." He pauses at C'len, considering those fishrolls very seriously but instead of snagging one, he simply shakes his head and replies back, "No, it's okay. Thanks though, sir." He looks back up reluctantly from the 'rolls to the Weyrleader, shrugging in response to his latter trailed off remark before admitting, "I don't know, I don't think I have ever thought that inventories and such like that were boring at all."
"Don't really know anyone who /likes/ being bored, but that's good you keep yourself busy," P'draig opines about X'lar's choices of occupation, then in spite of prior words, he pops the last of the cheese in his hand into his mouth and does help himself to a fish roll, breaking it in half and taking a whiff of the spicing on the fish itself before having a bite. "Have to hand it to Ista. Cooks here sure do know what do do with a piece of fish to make it taste nice."
C'len shrugs, "It's not so bad to be idle, though. To take some time to rest, relax, think." The rider doesn't comment further about the inventories, merely shrugging again at X'lar. "They're good, aren't they?" He asks, of the fishrolls, polishing off the second half of yet another roll before patting his stomach. "Too much of this, and I might have to take up jogging, like Satiet."
Those eyes of X'lar's keep darting to those fishrolls before they quickly raise up to the sky, giving the darkness above a brief grunt of frustration. Soon, he leans back, using his hands to hold him at a reclined position. He looks back and forth between the two older men, listening to them quietly. There might a frown forming, too.
"I think taking a load off and just ... being is a little different from being bored though," Paddy points out, taking another bite of fish roll. "Very good," the brownrider says with the mouthful swapped into his cheek so he can talk around it. "Swimming," he counters with a grin towards C'len, "since you /can/ the whole turn around down here." The frown on X'lar's face earns a questioning look. "Everything okay?"
C'len nods to both of Paddy's points. "True and true." Nothing more is said as he simply relaxes, his feet still dipped into the pool from the edge. He cocks a brow at first Paddy, then X'lar, not asking anything futher.
"Fine," X'lar remarks. "Well, not fine, to be perfectly honest." There's a brief roll of his shoulders and soon the younger rider comments, "But it is nothing I'm willing to talk about." He gives both older men a brief look of apology before taking a deep breath, enjoying the coolness of the night, silent.
"I've been doing a lot of that. Just being since I transferred," P'draig tells C'len and he grins again. "Feels good." Back to X'lar and he considers the younger bronzerider for a moment, nods acceptance. "Fair enough."
C'len offers, "Well, if there's anything we can do to help--" He breaks off with a shrug, as he slowly draws his feet out of the water, letting them drip dry for a bit. "Between us, we've probably had some of the same problems, I'd guess."
"Thanks," Xie tells Paddy, earnest in his delivery of the one-word response to the brownrider. To C'len, X'lar nods once and tells him: "One day when you're not too busy I might come to you for advice, sir." He gives both men a brief smile and reclines again.
"Sure," P'draig says lightly, smiles over X'lar's way and nods. "Like C'len said, if you do need an ear, just say the word," the brownrider offers as well and pops another bite of fishroll into his mouth. "Clutches at Ista we've got in common, coming from the Reaches, Bakers ... anything else, C'len?" Paddy asks with humor in his voice now.
C'len considers, "Well, I was at Boll before. Have any connections there? Oh, and your family -- mine is much smaller! There's a difference." The man grins, then shakes his head, "I don't know how you keep 'em all straight, really."
X'lar looks to C'len and then back to P'draig and chuckles softly, saying, "I actually have family in Boll. My mom's side. My dad's side is just my grandfather, who's over at High Reaches." There's a snort from the rider and he adds, "A grandfather who's likely ready to whip my rear end, too, I'm sure." He looks back to the sky and then back to the others by the pool, smiling at them.
"Only connection with Boll, is how many drinks I've had at the Lava Lounge," P'draig says with a dry chuckle and a wink. "But you're right, I've got the whole sprawling family going and y'know what? I can't keep track of all my father's kids, so there you go." He finishes off his fish roll and dips his hands into the water to wash off slight traces of grease and crumbs. "Should I ask about the rear-end thing?" Paddy quips teasingly.
"My da still works in the kitchen at Boll," C'len says, "and my ma's a weaver at 'Reaches." The rider doesn't explain any more than that, about his family. The water has dripped enough from his feet, leaving them mostly dry, or at least dry enough that he can slip his boots back on. "I'm not sure I want to hear about the rear-end thing," he jokes, "So I think I'm going to head back to my weyr for the night. Have a good one!" He offers the fishrolls around one last time, before heading back up the stairs.
"My mom's a nanny here, my dad's a brownrider here, my grandfather's a rider at Reaches," X'lar notes. "The cousins and aunts and uncles from my mother's side aren't even worth mentioning, the ignorant..." He trails off and sighs, finally asking the Weyrleader: "Do you have any more of those fishrolls left, C'len?" His hand snakes around to grab one... then another one, before the other bronzer leaves. "Good night, sir." He glances to P'draig and smirks briefly, "My grandfather just wanted me to introduce him to Lu during the party, but I told him not yet. And I think he thought I'd be staying there already, with the eggs already in the sand."
"Kitchens," P'draig nods wisely and shakes water off of his hands while C'len re-boots his feet. A swipe of fingers to towel and Paddy does sneak another roll with one hand while saluting with the other. "Good night, C'len. Clear skies back and my regards to Nolee," he replies to the Weyrleader. X'lar's comments on his family hike heavy brows upwardsd though. "My folks are all at the Reaches, Remi at Harper, Ily at Smith, Millie at the Reaches, one kid here, one kid at Telgar, grandmother at Telgar, other at Benden, one grandfather at Igen and ... I have a half-brother and sister here. Their mother's a baker. But like C'len said, my family tree is too complicated." He munches on the fishroll and looks over at X'lar again. "Lucky you maybe, Rielsath's not demanding him."
"Not sure I'm lucky," X'lar notes. "Any day now I'm going to create an incident between Ista and High Reaches by simply being myself." The last is spoken bitterly. "Honestly? I mean this in the most serious way possible? I would love nothing more than to have Malsaeth on the sands with Rielsath, and for me to be in High Reaches right now. Living temporarily. So that I could talk to Lu, support her while Mal tells stories to Rielsath so she doesn't get bored or whatever. I even have a gift for Lu that I wanted to give her at the party, but she was too busy at the time. Sort of a gift to celebrate her first flight and Rielsath's first clutch." He shakes his head and continues eating. Xie has looser lips after some food has been in him, apparently. "But with Mal banned from the herd, what's stopping N'thei from banning me from the Weyr?" He chomps at the last bite of his first fishroll. "/That/ is what is pissing me off. /That/ is what has been on my mind for days."
"Depends," P'draig answers and starts to say more, then falls silent, listening to X'lar go on. "Seems Rielsath's not a broody queen then so far, which can be a good thing. Not being stuck without being able to leave," the brownride says mildly, has another bite of roll. "But that does sound frustrating, not being able to go when you /want/ to." He sucks flakes of pastry off his thumb and asks the water rather than X'lar directly: "Why're you banned from the herd? And why would he ban you from the Weyr? Did you piss in his morning cereal or something? Or is he just pissed on principle?" The brownrider's gaze then does swing back around to X'lar himself, curious but not intent.
X'lar sighs, saying, "It's my fault. I pushed him once at the Lake Shore. Not physically, it's just..." He trails off and starts again: "N'thei didn't want me getting comfortable. I'd pissed him off, I guess. We'd been talking. And then he decided to tell me that he didn't want Malsaeth eating from the herd. Oh, and that the bar folk would be instructed for me not to run a tab." He rolls his eyes and sighs, saying, "Granted, I know I can be a pain in the ass. But it just seems /wrong/ to me. I don't care about the lack of a tab at the Snowasis." He shakes his head and finally asks rhetorically, "But banning Mal from the herd?!" He sighs and shakes his head, saying, "It doesn't seem right."
P'draig's knees draw upward, his feet finding purchase on the pool's edge and his elbows settle comfortably atop them, hands dangling downward. "Doesn't want you getting comfortable," the brownrider echoes and nods a few times. "Hm. I don't know N'thei well, but based on how he was when he was at Fort, I guess I can kind of understand that attitude. Wyaeth isn't remotely the kind of sire who uh -- sticks around," Paddy aims for diplomatic with that. "Anyway, he might not get that a lot of bronzes are a lot more dedicated, or that they serve the queen the way it sounds like Malsaeth wants to." There's a quiet moment and then Paddy clears his throat. "It is ... a little bit of an insult, technically speaking to do that. Technically." More quiet. "Have you talked this over with the Weyrleaders yet, X'lar?"
X'lar looks in the direction of C'len's departure, hearing Paddy's latter question. "I've told Nolee and Fayre about it," he admits. "Nothing too in depth though." There's a grimace and X'lar states: "I'd been trying to delay talking to C'len if only because I honestly don't know the man. I'm not sure he comes across as accessible. A'son seemed like he was more so. Not that I talked to him much, mind you." He's finishing off his second and last fishroll. "Malsaeth wants what I want. I want to be there for Lu. And I think Malsaeth really likes Rielsath. I mean, he's as proud of her as I am of Lu. He gets restless, too. But I can't imagine him not leaving for good. I mean... it seems stupid for us not to be there for them."
"Mm. C'len's quieter maybe," P'draig says slowly, thinking that through. "I know them both, A'son's kind of quickfire by comparison with C'len, I'd say. I think if you bring this up with him, you'll see some kind of action, once he's thought it through," Paddy opines with a grin. "Sometimes he just needs a little nudge about things. Like when Jekzith caught Nalaieth, that was his nudge to come to Nolee and kind of firm things up between them," the brownrider explains further, "even if I had, you know, no interest in Nolee /that/ way." He flashes the younger man a brief grin and laces his fingers together loosely. "Frankly, if you can work it out with the Reaches Weyrleaders, I think you should be there if it's what you and Malsaeth and Lujayn and Rielsath want. Because in the end, it's their needs and the eggs that matter more than -- well whatever this is with N'thei." He rubs at his chin thoughtfully, then shrugs. "Besides you can always feed Mal back here if Rielsath will let him. Nalaieth keeps her males close. Barely stirred from Ista at all once the eggs were laid." The brownrider chuckles softly. "Except that, speaking of Lu, I snuck out one night to take her to the masque at Benden. Ask her about her runner costume sometime, that was something else."
X'lar listens to P'draig quietly, nodding once then a second time at his initial remarks with regard to the differences between C'len and A'son. "I'm just one guy whose dragon happened to catch a Reachian gold. I don't see why N'thei can't see this. I'm a teenager. 18 turns old. I can't imagine N'thei thinks of me or Malsaeth as a threat, so I'm not really sure what he was thinking. But, at the same time, I am just a rider. It's not like I have much sway in telling N'thei off. It wouldn't be prudent at all." He nods once more, listening to P'draig further. "Snuck out to take her to the masque at Benden," Xie repeats, thoughtful. "Were you and she... close?"
"Mm. I'd think it's a matter for the Weyrleaders at both Weyrs to work out, honestly. It's not typical for the Weyrleader of one place to refuse to feed a guest clutchsire," the brownrider says thoughtfully and takes a deep breath, lets it out. The switch in topic though brings out a fond reminiscent smile. "Friends, X'lar, just friends. I've a good twelve turns on Lu and I've known her since she was just a kid. Jekzith Searched her for Fort one time too, so yes, close, but not /that/ kind of close," Paddy clarifies.
"We're not that close," X'lar admits. "I mean, we barely even talked at the party after the clutching." There's a brief pause from the rider and X'lar finally notes, quiet: "There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for her though. She's incredible." He glances to P'draig curiously, before grinning back at him. "You don't /look/ that old," Xie remarks, making him laugh. "But seriously, can I tell you something else?"
"Sometimes that happens though with that kind of thing," P'draig notes about the party. "You know, social obligations and duty and all that. Not really the best time for getting into things deep," the brownrider says evenly, face showing some wry humor. He smiles though at the younger man, nodding. "Yeah, she's grown into a really lovely young woman," Paddy says with both respect and fondness in his tone now. I'm glad you feel that way about her, that it was someone kind, who cares about her whose dragon caught in that first flight. Worried about it a little. Couldn't help it you know? I've advised so many Weyrlings about it over the turns." He chuckles a little self-deprecatingly. "Anyway, it all worked out for the best I think." Paddy laughs outright about his age and grins back at X'lar. "I'm thirty-one, X'lar. Got tapped for Weyrlingmaster when I was twenty. So yeah, it's not that I'm all that /old/, but I am a lot older than Lu and you." His brows lift, expression inviting whatever it is the younger man is about to say. "Shoot."
X'lar nods once more to P'draig, telling him: "Oh yeah, I understand that." He pauses and goes on to say, "I even understand she's different than any woman I know. That's part of why I like her so much. She's so independent. She loves High Reaches -so- much." There's another pause and then he admits, "It just isn't as physical between us. Which is fine. I think she hasn't got to know me enough yet to really decide whether you know... she wants to be physical with me. I did end up telling her I'd hoped to hug her more." He shrugs, letting his shoulders roll some. "Weyrlingmaster at 20. Wow. And /31/. That's not -that- old." At the brows lifting and the one-word prompt, X'lar grins wide and tells P'draig: "I've always thought that you and T'mic look like a cute couple. Likely one of the most natural pairings I've ever seen between two people."
"She's sweet and independent and smart," P'draig agrees. "It's good she's come to love the Reaches so much, I think she had a tough time with that at first, homesick for Fort." He looks down into the water reminiscent again. "She wrote about it actually, how much she missed it. I came to visit a couple of times, but then she got to feeling like she needed to really commit to the Reaches after she Impressed, focused there, which makes sense. So I guess we're maybe not quite as close as we used to be." Paddy tips a look over at X'lar, listening and nods. "Mm. If you both feel strongly about each other, it'll get there I'm sure. Sometimes girls take a little longer to come around to it," the brownrider states frankly just as his mouth quirks a little. "Yeah. Just circumstances, you know?" ABout his youth when he caught that knot. The last comment brings out a laugh and Paddy scruffs a hand through his hair. "Would you believe that until Mic, I'd never really looked at a guy that way? He'd been hounding me for ages to get in bed with him and I kept saying no and then one night at a party I was having for my Weyrlings no less, he asked me one last time." He winks over at the bronzerider. "Imagine what might've happened if I'd said no again? But you're right, once we got over that hump, shells, it's been as easy as breathing."
"Seriously?" X'lar asks, amazed as he listens to the story of Paddy and Mic. "Wow, I would have never guessed that it took you and Mic that long." There's more laughter from the bronzerider, seemingly a lot more easy going and open now that he's had food. Or perhaps it's simply the company he keeps. "I know that some take longer to get there," the bronzerider finally agrees. "I'm patient. For her, I'd wait turns and turns." He pauses and chuckles softly, suddenly marvelling at his returning sense of humour and current conversation. "Shells, you never seem to take off that teacher hat, huh?" It's a question spoken with great amusement from the bronzerider. "Thanks, P'draig," Xie finally tells him, quiet. "I didn't mean to lay all that on you, but... I think it needed to come out at some point, otherwise I think I'd likely just start screaming." He smirks at himself and reminisces: "Tried that once, my throat never forgave me."
"Seriously. Turns. And at first we both thought it was just going to be, you know, friendly, casual sex. And mostly about me getting over any hangups I had about other men." Gee Paddy. Frank much? "It just kind of ... happened. Turned around one day and realized I wanted to wake up next to him every day of my life." The brownrider's expression is as open as his words, plain old love for his weyrmate showing forth clearly. "You're a good man X'lar for that. While you're working things out. Patience. Good virtue to have." His hand lifts though to cover his face briefly. "Ugh, no, it's kind of so much a part of how I related to people half the time, I don't , I don't know how to shake it. Working on it though, being less teacher and more ... friend?" A grin over X'lar's way follows and he reaches over to squeeze the young man's shoulder lightly. "Yeah, no problem. As long as I'm not buried under Mic or visiting Paige or my kids, just holler if you need an ear. Better than running around with a sore throat for days." Another wink follows then Paddy gets to his feet, roots around in the grass for his sandals. "Speaking of being buried under Mic, he's home, so I'm going to scoot on over. I'll see you around X'lar and if you see Lu before I do, give her my love." So saying, the brownrider heads over to meet Jekzith to head back to his weyr.
X'lar seems nowhere near squeamish at hearing Paddy's frank comments. In fact, if anything the bronzerider invites it. "That's great... that you realized that. I've just always felt that if you and he could make it work, /anyone/ could make it work, you know? You and T'mic give me hope." He smiles again before saying, "I'm a passionate guy, I guess, and I believe in being honest, even if it gets you hurt in the long run." To P'draig, he smiles warmly again and nods once more, "Friend. Wouldn't mind a friend in you, P'draig." There's another chuckle coming from the bronzerider as he hears about being buried under Mic. He nods once more to the brownrider. "I'll be sure to do that for you, P'draig," he tells the former Fortian. "It was good talking to you. G'night."
"We gave you hope?" P'draig just grins as he moves off. "Well that's a really nice thing to hear. Thanks X'lar. If you don't min, I'll let Mic know that too. I think he'd be touched." The brownrider nods about honesty. "Couldn't agree more," he says quietly with just a faint trace of maybe some remembered pain on his face. "Friends, then. And good night, X'lar." The brownrider climbs up Jekzith's side and a moment later the pair are airborn and coasting out over the plateau and turning along the outside edge of Ista's broken cone to find home.