(no subject)
Who: Hattie, P'draig, Elaruth, Jekzith
When: Night of day 6, month 5, turn 25 of Interval 10.
Where: Hattie's Weyr, Fort Weyr
What: Hattie is definitely not... all right.
As usual, though it's late, footsteps sound softly on the steps up to Hattie's weyr, announcing P'draig's arrival. Jekzith lightly touches minds with Elaruth to announce them both, shimmering bubbles regaining their usual iridescence after remaining muted for a few days, likely under his rider's influence. The thump of a satchel being set down, followed by the rustle of fabric on fabric speak of Paddy taking his things off and leaving them hung up. There's the quiet snick of the outer door being shut as well and then he appears in the entrance to the bedroom, gaze seeking out Hattie as he crosses the room to set down the evening's treats.
The responding touch from Elaruth's mind is a little off-balance, as though from one half-asleep, the marshes quiet and calm and blanketed utterly by mist. As has been common for the past sevenday, she favours sleep over most things and remains awkwardly curled up in her wallow. Inside the bedroom and tucked into one corner of the couch opposite the hearth, Hattie slowly looks up and away from the flames to find P'draig, gaze tracking every step, perhaps even every move made.
The basket is set down promptly and Paddy crosses to Hattie, concern ill-concealed on his face. Without saying a word, he sits down beside her on the couch and reaches over, aiming to draw her into his arms and kiss her. "Hey," he says finally and offers a smile. "Brought leftover lemon custard. And Palia sent one of her favorite books."
Hattie uncurls in an unhurried manner, swapping the corner of the couch for the brownrider as she curls up against P'draig instead. She manages the kiss, but not the smile in return and nods a time or two, only to look back at the hearth at mention of Palia and books. "...I'm sorry I've not been over to read with her," the Weyrwoman says quietly, guiltily, even.
Keeping one arm curled around Hattie, Paddy lifts a hand to stroke her cheek gently. "She understands, Hattie," the brownrider says in a gentle tone. "At least, she understands that something big happened and that it's dragon-related and it means that you need some time. She ... just wanted to share with you. I think she's hoping it'll help you feel better."
"I know," Hattie murmurs, one hand lifting to briefly press to her forehead. "...I know she did - does," she goes on, stumbling a little over her words. "Tell her thank you? I'd say she could come visit here but... I don't want to scare her. And I don't want her seeing Elaruth as she is and it conjuring up images of dragons hurting each other."
"I'll let her know," P'draig agrees and leans in to kiss Hattie's forehead. "I don't think she'll be scared, honestly Hattie. Curious, but not scared. She's seen dragons injured before. She's weyrbred, sweetheart."
"Dragons injured through accident, I assume, not dragons that-" Hattie starts, only to have to close her eyes and swallow hard. "And if she saw Yshtiath whilst she was here... I don't want her thinking of Elaruth like that. /I/ don't want to think of-" And again, she pauses and doesn't pick up that thread again, shaking her head a touch.
"Accidents, some flight injuries. Jekzith's been dinged in a flight before, for that matter, just not quite as badly as Elaruth is now," P'draig relates, voice steady and gives her shoulder a little squeeze. "I don't think those are the kinds of conclusions she'd jump to Hattie. Nor would most people." She breaks off and he seeks to draw her close again. "Oh, Hattie," Paddy murmrus softly.
At least she's over the crying stage by now, but it's left a stoic blankness in its wake that remains even as Hattie makes herself as small as possible to curl back up against P'draig. She doesn't speak for quite some time and when she finally finds words again, she makes another abrupt change of subject. "Gethin had his second turnday and I didn't even..." Notice?
"We'll celebrate when things've calmed down a little," P'draig replies, one hand sliding up to stroke through Hattie's hair. "Things happen, Hattie ..." he attempts to reassure. "He's perfectly happy. Having fun with his brother and sisters and making Miara's week really. She loves little kids and is doting over him horribly."
Truth be told, whatever the flicker that passes through Hattie's gaze is, it doesn't seem to betray a great deal of tolerance on the Miara front. Still, "As long as he's happy," is all she says of the matter, voice kept quiet. "He's better off out of... all this," the goldrider adds. "I've barely seen Tabitha and Mimi. Probably for the best."
This would be one of the times where Paddy being a little clueless is probably a good thing. He doesn't grok that look at all and his brows tilt together, forehead dented with slight puzzlement. "Actually, I was thinking about bringing the kids over tomorrow, if you can stand it. They miss you and it might help to be distracted for a little while." Family-type distraction. Not the kind that they usually both mean.
"I..." Hattie starts, stopping right there when no appropriate words are found to follow. "I don't know," she has to confess. "We wouldn't have to go anywhere... far, would we?" she asks, tilting her head back to look up at P'draig. "I don't want them thinking there's something wrong with me." Whether there /is/ or isn't, it's a vague acknowledgement that there might be.
"If it's nice out, how about a walk down to the lake and a picnic in the grove?" P'draig suggests, gray-blue eyes seeking out Hattie's dark ones. "And even if they do think there's something wrong, Hattie, that's okay. We can talk about it. It won't ruin their lives if they see you having an off day, especially given that right now, you being ... not /all/ right is completely warranted."
"You can talk about it. I can't," Hattie replies as if it's nothing but fact, like the sky is blue. She only meets P'draig's gaze after she's got those words out and peers up at him in silence for a little while. It's obvious that she's still not sure, but she agrees, "Okay," all the same, seemingly steeling herself for the prospect of something that shouldn't require it at all. More silence, another breath and she says, "I'm tired," in the same stilted way that she's been speaking, the filter between mind and mouth vanishing intermittently.
"I'll talk to them before we come over," P'draig decides, still looking down at Hattie. "And if they have questions, I'll take care of it," the brownrider says quietly and his fingers curl under her chin gently tilting her face as he leans in to kiss her again. "Then we should get tucked in." Because apparently he's planning to stay.
Hattie nods several times, the gesture easier than a verbal response. She doesn't draw away from fingers curled beneath her chin, her return of that kiss gentle. Another few nods follow and then she leans in to kiss P'draig again, more fiercely now, yet she doesn't seek to actually go anywhere with it and breaks away all at once almost guiltily. In the end, clothes are pulled off and left where they fall on the floor before there's the finding of the bed and curling up beneath blankets, the Weyrwoman taking longer to fall asleep than one might expect, given her recent statement.
That fiercer kiss sees Paddy starting to respond, hand skimming down the outside of Hattie's arm, but then she breaks away and he winds up padding after her, picking up the clothes she dropped and putting them in the hamper. His own come off more neatly and are folded over the back of a chair before he slides into the covers with her, arms curling around Hattie as he spoons up behind her. In spite of a long day, in spite of the time difference and how late it is at Ista, Paddy stays awake until the goldrider drifts off and remains so for a while, looking down at her with the heaviness in his heart obvious, but unseen by any, on his face.
When: Night of day 6, month 5, turn 25 of Interval 10.
Where: Hattie's Weyr, Fort Weyr
What: Hattie is definitely not... all right.
As usual, though it's late, footsteps sound softly on the steps up to Hattie's weyr, announcing P'draig's arrival. Jekzith lightly touches minds with Elaruth to announce them both, shimmering bubbles regaining their usual iridescence after remaining muted for a few days, likely under his rider's influence. The thump of a satchel being set down, followed by the rustle of fabric on fabric speak of Paddy taking his things off and leaving them hung up. There's the quiet snick of the outer door being shut as well and then he appears in the entrance to the bedroom, gaze seeking out Hattie as he crosses the room to set down the evening's treats.
The responding touch from Elaruth's mind is a little off-balance, as though from one half-asleep, the marshes quiet and calm and blanketed utterly by mist. As has been common for the past sevenday, she favours sleep over most things and remains awkwardly curled up in her wallow. Inside the bedroom and tucked into one corner of the couch opposite the hearth, Hattie slowly looks up and away from the flames to find P'draig, gaze tracking every step, perhaps even every move made.
The basket is set down promptly and Paddy crosses to Hattie, concern ill-concealed on his face. Without saying a word, he sits down beside her on the couch and reaches over, aiming to draw her into his arms and kiss her. "Hey," he says finally and offers a smile. "Brought leftover lemon custard. And Palia sent one of her favorite books."
Hattie uncurls in an unhurried manner, swapping the corner of the couch for the brownrider as she curls up against P'draig instead. She manages the kiss, but not the smile in return and nods a time or two, only to look back at the hearth at mention of Palia and books. "...I'm sorry I've not been over to read with her," the Weyrwoman says quietly, guiltily, even.
Keeping one arm curled around Hattie, Paddy lifts a hand to stroke her cheek gently. "She understands, Hattie," the brownrider says in a gentle tone. "At least, she understands that something big happened and that it's dragon-related and it means that you need some time. She ... just wanted to share with you. I think she's hoping it'll help you feel better."
"I know," Hattie murmurs, one hand lifting to briefly press to her forehead. "...I know she did - does," she goes on, stumbling a little over her words. "Tell her thank you? I'd say she could come visit here but... I don't want to scare her. And I don't want her seeing Elaruth as she is and it conjuring up images of dragons hurting each other."
"I'll let her know," P'draig agrees and leans in to kiss Hattie's forehead. "I don't think she'll be scared, honestly Hattie. Curious, but not scared. She's seen dragons injured before. She's weyrbred, sweetheart."
"Dragons injured through accident, I assume, not dragons that-" Hattie starts, only to have to close her eyes and swallow hard. "And if she saw Yshtiath whilst she was here... I don't want her thinking of Elaruth like that. /I/ don't want to think of-" And again, she pauses and doesn't pick up that thread again, shaking her head a touch.
"Accidents, some flight injuries. Jekzith's been dinged in a flight before, for that matter, just not quite as badly as Elaruth is now," P'draig relates, voice steady and gives her shoulder a little squeeze. "I don't think those are the kinds of conclusions she'd jump to Hattie. Nor would most people." She breaks off and he seeks to draw her close again. "Oh, Hattie," Paddy murmrus softly.
At least she's over the crying stage by now, but it's left a stoic blankness in its wake that remains even as Hattie makes herself as small as possible to curl back up against P'draig. She doesn't speak for quite some time and when she finally finds words again, she makes another abrupt change of subject. "Gethin had his second turnday and I didn't even..." Notice?
"We'll celebrate when things've calmed down a little," P'draig replies, one hand sliding up to stroke through Hattie's hair. "Things happen, Hattie ..." he attempts to reassure. "He's perfectly happy. Having fun with his brother and sisters and making Miara's week really. She loves little kids and is doting over him horribly."
Truth be told, whatever the flicker that passes through Hattie's gaze is, it doesn't seem to betray a great deal of tolerance on the Miara front. Still, "As long as he's happy," is all she says of the matter, voice kept quiet. "He's better off out of... all this," the goldrider adds. "I've barely seen Tabitha and Mimi. Probably for the best."
This would be one of the times where Paddy being a little clueless is probably a good thing. He doesn't grok that look at all and his brows tilt together, forehead dented with slight puzzlement. "Actually, I was thinking about bringing the kids over tomorrow, if you can stand it. They miss you and it might help to be distracted for a little while." Family-type distraction. Not the kind that they usually both mean.
"I..." Hattie starts, stopping right there when no appropriate words are found to follow. "I don't know," she has to confess. "We wouldn't have to go anywhere... far, would we?" she asks, tilting her head back to look up at P'draig. "I don't want them thinking there's something wrong with me." Whether there /is/ or isn't, it's a vague acknowledgement that there might be.
"If it's nice out, how about a walk down to the lake and a picnic in the grove?" P'draig suggests, gray-blue eyes seeking out Hattie's dark ones. "And even if they do think there's something wrong, Hattie, that's okay. We can talk about it. It won't ruin their lives if they see you having an off day, especially given that right now, you being ... not /all/ right is completely warranted."
"You can talk about it. I can't," Hattie replies as if it's nothing but fact, like the sky is blue. She only meets P'draig's gaze after she's got those words out and peers up at him in silence for a little while. It's obvious that she's still not sure, but she agrees, "Okay," all the same, seemingly steeling herself for the prospect of something that shouldn't require it at all. More silence, another breath and she says, "I'm tired," in the same stilted way that she's been speaking, the filter between mind and mouth vanishing intermittently.
"I'll talk to them before we come over," P'draig decides, still looking down at Hattie. "And if they have questions, I'll take care of it," the brownrider says quietly and his fingers curl under her chin gently tilting her face as he leans in to kiss her again. "Then we should get tucked in." Because apparently he's planning to stay.
Hattie nods several times, the gesture easier than a verbal response. She doesn't draw away from fingers curled beneath her chin, her return of that kiss gentle. Another few nods follow and then she leans in to kiss P'draig again, more fiercely now, yet she doesn't seek to actually go anywhere with it and breaks away all at once almost guiltily. In the end, clothes are pulled off and left where they fall on the floor before there's the finding of the bed and curling up beneath blankets, the Weyrwoman taking longer to fall asleep than one might expect, given her recent statement.
That fiercer kiss sees Paddy starting to respond, hand skimming down the outside of Hattie's arm, but then she breaks away and he winds up padding after her, picking up the clothes she dropped and putting them in the hamper. His own come off more neatly and are folded over the back of a chair before he slides into the covers with her, arms curling around Hattie as he spoons up behind her. In spite of a long day, in spite of the time difference and how late it is at Ista, Paddy stays awake until the goldrider drifts off and remains so for a while, looking down at her with the heaviness in his heart obvious, but unseen by any, on his face.