Vig: Turning The Page
Who: Palia, P'draig
When: It is an autumn night, 21:25 of day 13, month 11, turn 24 of Interval 10.
Where: The Beach House, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy tells Palia about Hattie.
The screen door between the porch and the main room of the cothold started to swing shut behind him as P'draig stepped inside. The air was pleasant, a bit cooler, a seaborne breeze winding its way through the house. He caught the door with the back of his boot heel and set the carisak down just inside the door, nudged it out of the way and paused to stretch his arms above his head, back cracking a little as he did so.
"You should see a healer about that," Palia remarked casually from the couch where she sat with the glow basket flipped open beside her and a book open in her lap. Her hair was down, combed out and still a little damp from a bath and she was wearing a lightweight nightgown, feet bare each tucked beneath the opposite knee, tailor-style.
"And you should be in bed," Paddy remonstrated with humor in his voice and pulled his jacket off, hung it up on the hook by the door. Next, he skimmed out of his trousers, leaving his boxers on and piled his riding gear up on top of the abandoned carisak. Boots were kicked off after and he padded over to the couch, dropped into a seat beside his daughter, arm curling around her fondly.
"What're you reading, Pali-girl?" the brownrider inquired curiously and tipped a look at the book's pages. "History," the girl answered promptly and flipped back a few pages to point at the chapter title. "Ista history. Avrion's been teaching us all about Hold-Weyr relations," she explained further and reached over to the table to pick up her bookmark: his mother's work, neatly embroidered with the shape of a curling wave. Palia slipped the mark between the pages and shut the book, hugged it to her chest with her knees. "It's interesting," she said with a smile. "Especially if you can imagine what all the people looked like and how they talked."
"Yeah, makes it more like a story then," Paddy remarked and reached down to brush his palm over her curls lightly. "Listen, Palia, there's something I need to tell you and then I can tell you a story and it's time to get into bed and try to get some sleep okay?" He tilted a look down at her and she looked up at him, gray eyes meeting his steadily. "Okay, Papa," she agreed and slide the book away onto the side-table, scooted over to curl up against his side. P'draig dropped his arm around her shoulders, rubbed at the side of her arm absently while he collected his thoughts. Palia interrupted the wool-gathering as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Papa? Is this about the lady who comes late at night?"
He'd been about to speak, but her words deflated whatever he'd mustered as an opening and Paddy let all his breath gust out at once. His far hand lifted and he scrubbed at his face with it, grinned sidelong from beneath the edge of his palm at his daughter. "Yeah, it is. You just don't miss a thing, do you? How many times have you been awake when she's come by and I've thought you were asleep?" Palia shrugged once and offered him her cutest, dimpliest smile. "Pali-girl, you have to get some sleep sometime," Paddy exclaimed with a faint note of exasperation in his voice. "The books can wait 'til morning, okay, sweetheart?" She puffed out a breath and reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Okay, Papa. I'll try, it's just the stories are so interesting. Interesting enough that I barely hear you, you know." She leveled a look at him. Paddy scrubbed at his face again.
"Okay, listen, the lady who keeps coming at night, is Hattie, Gethin's mom, Fort's Weyrwoman," P'draig said seriously, looking right down at Palia once more. She returned his gaze, quieting down as he gave the goldrider's title. "We're together now," he continued steadily, "not quite weyrmates because we won't be living together, but as close to it as if we were. I won't be seeing anyone else and neither will she outside of flights. It's not a secret, but because of her job, it's important not to make a big deal out of it." Palia listened attentively, expression betraying little, though Paddy noticed she was chewing on her bottom lip. "She'll be coming over a lot at night, usually after you and your brothers and sisters have gone to bed and sometimes I won't be here because I'll be over at Fort with her and Gethin. Miara will always be here though when I'm not."
Palia remained quiet for a little while longer, long enough that Paddy was starting to get nervous about her silence and he searched her face for a clue to what she was thinking and feeling. "So ... I guess you're not getting back together with Unka Mic, huh?" was the question that hit him out of the blue. P'draig took a deep breath, blinked a few times, then shook his head slowly. "No, Pali-girl. I still care about him a lot, love him even, but since he moved away it wasn't working out for me." He paused, a little crinkle marring his brow. "Do you miss him, sweetie?" Palia's curls bobbed up and down along with her head. "Uh huh. Sometimes anyway. I mean, it was always fun hanging out with him. Even when he'd forget things." There was a little pause. "He made you happy." Another pause. "You've been sad since he went away." She reached up and touched his cheek gently with small fingers. "But you've been happier lately." She lowered her voice a little: "And noisier." Paddy scrubbed at his face again. "Is that how you measure how happy or not I am?" he asked her with a shake of his head.
Palia just grinned and snuggled in closer to him. Paddy curled both of his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "Are you okay with this, Palia?" he asked her next, holding her close. "I'm not sure," she answered after a moment, words quasi-muffled in his shirt. "It's weird knowing that you're with someone else and I barely know her. I mean, except for seeing her when we've gone to visit Gethin. But he comes here by himself more than we go there all together to visit them both. It's not like when you were sleeping with Bailey sometimes." Her voice hitched a little on that name. "I knew her. She was good to me. And T'mic was too, even if he's a little weird about kids."
Paddy nodded a few times, taking in what she had to say. "I'm happy you're happy, Papa. But I guess ... I dunno." She stopped there and shrugged again. "What's she really like? What does she like to do for fun?" The brownrider grinned and answered humorously at first: "Eat my food." Palia actually giggled at that and poked her father in the stomach. "Who /doesn't/ like to eat your food Papa. You're the /best/," she proclaimed loyally. "She reads a lot, actually," P'draig said slowly, "and she works a lot too. Like me. It's something we have in common." The word 'read' piqued Palia's interest and she sat up a little. "Yeah? Maybe she could read to me sometime?" Paddy hugged Palia tight. "I think she'd like that, Pali-girl. Want to give it a try next seven?" He looked down at her questioningly and Palia chewed on her lip some more, then nodded slowly. "Okay."
P'draig smiled at her and gave her another fierce hug. "Thanks, sweetie. I think she'll really like that that was your idea. She wants to get to know you better, but she doesn't want to push you. I'll make dinner and we'll have a big family meal and Hattie'll come too, then we'll see how things go from there, all right?" Palia nodded slowly then reached up to hug P'draig tight around the neck. "Just don't move us back to Fort, okay?" she said quietly against his cheek. "I don't want to leave Ista." Paddy nodded a few times, hand rubbing at Palia's back. "That's not the plan, honey. This is our home and I'm not going to leave it, or you or any of your brothers and sisters. You have my word." Palia just nodded some more, without saying anything. Paddy sat and held her, looking out at the dark water crashing on the beach through the window.
After a little while, he scooped Palia up into his arms and carried her to her room. "I'll tell you a story and sing you a song and then it's light's out," he said quietly. She snuggled in close to him, face hidden in his shirt as he bore her to her bed. Once tucked in, she curled up with the light blanket tucked up under her chin and held his hand while he spun her a tale of children finding firelizard eggs and treasure on the beach. Then he sang her three of her old favorite songs until her eyes grew heavy with slumber and she drifted off into dreamland.
Paddy smoothed back her curls gently, tucked the blanket around her shoulders and dimmed the glow. He paused at Dharia's cot on the way by and put her foot back in under her blankie, picked up her stuffed pig from the floor and tucked him under her arm. She slept like her mother with her hands tucked against her chest, he noticed for dozenth time and sighed softly, pushing sad thoughts aside. Tilara also slept like one of her parents: starfish-style, splayed across her own little cot. That just made Paddy laugh and he tousled her dark curls a little, picked her blanket up off the floor and spread it back over her. He'd mention it to Mic the next time he saw him.
The boys' room was dark: Jaivery was at Telgar, Dylan was with Lanea tonight and Gethin was at Fort. He still looked in, smiled a little at how tidy Miara kept everything, then passed the nanny's door on quiet feet, hoping not to disturb her. He'd just reached his own, when hers creaked open and she looked out, sleepy-eyed and bed-headed. "Paddy, you're home," she said with a sweet smile for him. "Yeah," he answered simply and turned back toward her. "Everything okay tonight?" She nodded and pushed hair out of her eyes, struggling for wakefulness. "Mm, except that I think Palia waited up for you. I'm sorry, I fell asleep," she apologized, with a rueful look on her face. "It's okay, Miara, you need your rest too," he said lightly. She hesitated for a moment, then crossed to him, reached up with one hand to smooth down the front of his shirt. "You're not very late ... do you ... want some company?" Miara proposed in a soft voice. It wasn't the first time she'd made the offer.
P'draig reached down and covered her hand gently, squeezed it then brought it up to his lips, pressed a kiss to her fingers. "Thank you, but no, Miara," he refused yet again. "I'm with someone," the brownrider explained, tone gentle. "Not like how it was with T'mic." She looked up at him, searched his face then sighed softly, nodded. "Of course." Her shoulders slumped a little and he gave her hand another squeeze. "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," she said with slightly forced cheer and retreated back to her doorway. "Good night, P'draig." He slipped his hands into his pockets, smiled at her. "Good night, Miara." He waited until her door was closed, then opened his again, looked around the familiar room, shut the door behind him.
He abandoned the rest of his clothes in the dirty laundry basket, crossed to his clothes press and pulled out a fresh pair of shorts to sleep in. Then he opened the rest of the drawers and eyed their contents thoughtfully. The two bottom ones were still empty. They'd held T'mic's things that he'd kept here instead of up at the weyr they used to share. His own stuff had been steadily creeping into the middle drawer though and if Hattie was going to be coming by regularly she might need the space for her things. He sorted through the assorted items that occupied the drawer, tossed a few toward the wastebasket, folded up the rest and tucked them into the drawer above. There.
Paddy pushed the drawer shut and ran his hands along the edge of the dresser.
He was ready.
When he crawled into bed a little while later, it was with a curl of one of her ribbons in his hand and he fell asleep quickly, slept soundly through the rest of the night.
When: It is an autumn night, 21:25 of day 13, month 11, turn 24 of Interval 10.
Where: The Beach House, Ista Weyr
What: Paddy tells Palia about Hattie.
The screen door between the porch and the main room of the cothold started to swing shut behind him as P'draig stepped inside. The air was pleasant, a bit cooler, a seaborne breeze winding its way through the house. He caught the door with the back of his boot heel and set the carisak down just inside the door, nudged it out of the way and paused to stretch his arms above his head, back cracking a little as he did so.
"You should see a healer about that," Palia remarked casually from the couch where she sat with the glow basket flipped open beside her and a book open in her lap. Her hair was down, combed out and still a little damp from a bath and she was wearing a lightweight nightgown, feet bare each tucked beneath the opposite knee, tailor-style.
"And you should be in bed," Paddy remonstrated with humor in his voice and pulled his jacket off, hung it up on the hook by the door. Next, he skimmed out of his trousers, leaving his boxers on and piled his riding gear up on top of the abandoned carisak. Boots were kicked off after and he padded over to the couch, dropped into a seat beside his daughter, arm curling around her fondly.
"What're you reading, Pali-girl?" the brownrider inquired curiously and tipped a look at the book's pages. "History," the girl answered promptly and flipped back a few pages to point at the chapter title. "Ista history. Avrion's been teaching us all about Hold-Weyr relations," she explained further and reached over to the table to pick up her bookmark: his mother's work, neatly embroidered with the shape of a curling wave. Palia slipped the mark between the pages and shut the book, hugged it to her chest with her knees. "It's interesting," she said with a smile. "Especially if you can imagine what all the people looked like and how they talked."
"Yeah, makes it more like a story then," Paddy remarked and reached down to brush his palm over her curls lightly. "Listen, Palia, there's something I need to tell you and then I can tell you a story and it's time to get into bed and try to get some sleep okay?" He tilted a look down at her and she looked up at him, gray eyes meeting his steadily. "Okay, Papa," she agreed and slide the book away onto the side-table, scooted over to curl up against his side. P'draig dropped his arm around her shoulders, rubbed at the side of her arm absently while he collected his thoughts. Palia interrupted the wool-gathering as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Papa? Is this about the lady who comes late at night?"
He'd been about to speak, but her words deflated whatever he'd mustered as an opening and Paddy let all his breath gust out at once. His far hand lifted and he scrubbed at his face with it, grinned sidelong from beneath the edge of his palm at his daughter. "Yeah, it is. You just don't miss a thing, do you? How many times have you been awake when she's come by and I've thought you were asleep?" Palia shrugged once and offered him her cutest, dimpliest smile. "Pali-girl, you have to get some sleep sometime," Paddy exclaimed with a faint note of exasperation in his voice. "The books can wait 'til morning, okay, sweetheart?" She puffed out a breath and reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Okay, Papa. I'll try, it's just the stories are so interesting. Interesting enough that I barely hear you, you know." She leveled a look at him. Paddy scrubbed at his face again.
"Okay, listen, the lady who keeps coming at night, is Hattie, Gethin's mom, Fort's Weyrwoman," P'draig said seriously, looking right down at Palia once more. She returned his gaze, quieting down as he gave the goldrider's title. "We're together now," he continued steadily, "not quite weyrmates because we won't be living together, but as close to it as if we were. I won't be seeing anyone else and neither will she outside of flights. It's not a secret, but because of her job, it's important not to make a big deal out of it." Palia listened attentively, expression betraying little, though Paddy noticed she was chewing on her bottom lip. "She'll be coming over a lot at night, usually after you and your brothers and sisters have gone to bed and sometimes I won't be here because I'll be over at Fort with her and Gethin. Miara will always be here though when I'm not."
Palia remained quiet for a little while longer, long enough that Paddy was starting to get nervous about her silence and he searched her face for a clue to what she was thinking and feeling. "So ... I guess you're not getting back together with Unka Mic, huh?" was the question that hit him out of the blue. P'draig took a deep breath, blinked a few times, then shook his head slowly. "No, Pali-girl. I still care about him a lot, love him even, but since he moved away it wasn't working out for me." He paused, a little crinkle marring his brow. "Do you miss him, sweetie?" Palia's curls bobbed up and down along with her head. "Uh huh. Sometimes anyway. I mean, it was always fun hanging out with him. Even when he'd forget things." There was a little pause. "He made you happy." Another pause. "You've been sad since he went away." She reached up and touched his cheek gently with small fingers. "But you've been happier lately." She lowered her voice a little: "And noisier." Paddy scrubbed at his face again. "Is that how you measure how happy or not I am?" he asked her with a shake of his head.
Palia just grinned and snuggled in closer to him. Paddy curled both of his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "Are you okay with this, Palia?" he asked her next, holding her close. "I'm not sure," she answered after a moment, words quasi-muffled in his shirt. "It's weird knowing that you're with someone else and I barely know her. I mean, except for seeing her when we've gone to visit Gethin. But he comes here by himself more than we go there all together to visit them both. It's not like when you were sleeping with Bailey sometimes." Her voice hitched a little on that name. "I knew her. She was good to me. And T'mic was too, even if he's a little weird about kids."
Paddy nodded a few times, taking in what she had to say. "I'm happy you're happy, Papa. But I guess ... I dunno." She stopped there and shrugged again. "What's she really like? What does she like to do for fun?" The brownrider grinned and answered humorously at first: "Eat my food." Palia actually giggled at that and poked her father in the stomach. "Who /doesn't/ like to eat your food Papa. You're the /best/," she proclaimed loyally. "She reads a lot, actually," P'draig said slowly, "and she works a lot too. Like me. It's something we have in common." The word 'read' piqued Palia's interest and she sat up a little. "Yeah? Maybe she could read to me sometime?" Paddy hugged Palia tight. "I think she'd like that, Pali-girl. Want to give it a try next seven?" He looked down at her questioningly and Palia chewed on her lip some more, then nodded slowly. "Okay."
P'draig smiled at her and gave her another fierce hug. "Thanks, sweetie. I think she'll really like that that was your idea. She wants to get to know you better, but she doesn't want to push you. I'll make dinner and we'll have a big family meal and Hattie'll come too, then we'll see how things go from there, all right?" Palia nodded slowly then reached up to hug P'draig tight around the neck. "Just don't move us back to Fort, okay?" she said quietly against his cheek. "I don't want to leave Ista." Paddy nodded a few times, hand rubbing at Palia's back. "That's not the plan, honey. This is our home and I'm not going to leave it, or you or any of your brothers and sisters. You have my word." Palia just nodded some more, without saying anything. Paddy sat and held her, looking out at the dark water crashing on the beach through the window.
After a little while, he scooped Palia up into his arms and carried her to her room. "I'll tell you a story and sing you a song and then it's light's out," he said quietly. She snuggled in close to him, face hidden in his shirt as he bore her to her bed. Once tucked in, she curled up with the light blanket tucked up under her chin and held his hand while he spun her a tale of children finding firelizard eggs and treasure on the beach. Then he sang her three of her old favorite songs until her eyes grew heavy with slumber and she drifted off into dreamland.
Paddy smoothed back her curls gently, tucked the blanket around her shoulders and dimmed the glow. He paused at Dharia's cot on the way by and put her foot back in under her blankie, picked up her stuffed pig from the floor and tucked him under her arm. She slept like her mother with her hands tucked against her chest, he noticed for dozenth time and sighed softly, pushing sad thoughts aside. Tilara also slept like one of her parents: starfish-style, splayed across her own little cot. That just made Paddy laugh and he tousled her dark curls a little, picked her blanket up off the floor and spread it back over her. He'd mention it to Mic the next time he saw him.
The boys' room was dark: Jaivery was at Telgar, Dylan was with Lanea tonight and Gethin was at Fort. He still looked in, smiled a little at how tidy Miara kept everything, then passed the nanny's door on quiet feet, hoping not to disturb her. He'd just reached his own, when hers creaked open and she looked out, sleepy-eyed and bed-headed. "Paddy, you're home," she said with a sweet smile for him. "Yeah," he answered simply and turned back toward her. "Everything okay tonight?" She nodded and pushed hair out of her eyes, struggling for wakefulness. "Mm, except that I think Palia waited up for you. I'm sorry, I fell asleep," she apologized, with a rueful look on her face. "It's okay, Miara, you need your rest too," he said lightly. She hesitated for a moment, then crossed to him, reached up with one hand to smooth down the front of his shirt. "You're not very late ... do you ... want some company?" Miara proposed in a soft voice. It wasn't the first time she'd made the offer.
P'draig reached down and covered her hand gently, squeezed it then brought it up to his lips, pressed a kiss to her fingers. "Thank you, but no, Miara," he refused yet again. "I'm with someone," the brownrider explained, tone gentle. "Not like how it was with T'mic." She looked up at him, searched his face then sighed softly, nodded. "Of course." Her shoulders slumped a little and he gave her hand another squeeze. "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," she said with slightly forced cheer and retreated back to her doorway. "Good night, P'draig." He slipped his hands into his pockets, smiled at her. "Good night, Miara." He waited until her door was closed, then opened his again, looked around the familiar room, shut the door behind him.
He abandoned the rest of his clothes in the dirty laundry basket, crossed to his clothes press and pulled out a fresh pair of shorts to sleep in. Then he opened the rest of the drawers and eyed their contents thoughtfully. The two bottom ones were still empty. They'd held T'mic's things that he'd kept here instead of up at the weyr they used to share. His own stuff had been steadily creeping into the middle drawer though and if Hattie was going to be coming by regularly she might need the space for her things. He sorted through the assorted items that occupied the drawer, tossed a few toward the wastebasket, folded up the rest and tucked them into the drawer above. There.
Paddy pushed the drawer shut and ran his hands along the edge of the dresser.
He was ready.
When he crawled into bed a little while later, it was with a curl of one of her ribbons in his hand and he fell asleep quickly, slept soundly through the rest of the night.