Another Little Trip
Location: North Weyr
Time: Evening on Day 26, Month 2, Turn 3
Players: Roa and Ashwin
Scene: Roa tells Ashwin that she's headed to the island.
It's the evening of Day 26 in the second month, and Roa is settled in the north weyr, on one of the plush couches. Her legs are drawn up, arms wrapped around them, chin on her knees. Shoeless feet curl around the curve of the couch cushions. She blinks down at the table with a hide resting atop it, but considering the hide is blank, stylus and ink untouched beside it, she cannot actually be reading anything.
Tialith is out on the ledge, curled but wakeful.
Ashwin comes bearing a meal, one arm wrapped around a pot that's warm, to judge by the way he's got his jacket sleeve pulled up over his hand. He lifts his head to observe her as he crosses over to the table, carefully setting down the pot and shaking out his arm. Then, after regarding her a moment longer, he walks over to where she's seated, easing down to sit beside her on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees. "All curled up," he observes quietly, joining her in looking at the blank hide.
Her gaze lifts as Ashwin appears, and Roa straightens a little, waiting to see if the pot needs any help. "Long day," she replies softly, leaning to place a small kiss along his jawline before uncurling to fetch bowls, forks and spoons for whatever it is that Ashwin has brought to eat. "How was yours?"
He has a small twitch of a private smile for that kiss, eyes closing just for an instant. A huge covered pot, he brought, that will yield stew in time. He shifts his weight back on the couch, and leans back into it as she rises, hands coming up to scrub at his face. "Long enough," he agrees, tilting his head towards the ledge. "She out there? How's she doing?"
"She is," Roa agrees as she lifts the top off of the pot and peers down into it. "Awful lot of stew for just two folks." Her dark blue eyes drift upwards, one brow arching in query. "She's feeling restless. She wanted cooler air. She's all right." One bowl is lifted and held, hovering near the pot as an unspoken question.
"Hungry," Ash offers with a shrug. He watches her move, quiet and calm, absorbing her words without any apparent need to reply, except to the last. "Let's eat it over here," he offers after a moment's consideration. "And you can tell me if she's worked out how many she's carrying yet. I'd appreciate the tip."
"Too many, she says," Roa offers with a small laugh. "They don't think about numbers." She spoons up a heaping bowlful of stew and sets it down. The second bowl, intended for her, is filled about a third of the way before the serving spoon is set back into the pot. The first bowl and a spoon are both lifted and held out to Ashwin, before Roa takes her own fare and again seats herself beside him. "Have you got another scheme for how to increase your marks?" She picks up her spoon and pokes idly at the stew. "Or just going to try your luck this time?"
Ashwin leans forward to take his bowl, wrapping both hands around it, and studying it for omens or portents of the eggs its server's queen will produce. "Hard to resist the urge to put down a bet, knowing what it'll do to the books," he admits, deadpan. "Thinking on it." Silence then, as he munches quietly for a time. And finally, "Out with it, then."
As Ashwin eats, Roa only moves meat and tubers about the bowl with her spoon, listening without looking. Her legs curl up beside her. At his final words, she heaves a small sigh, but offers no protest. The weyrwoman at least waits until Ashwin is between bites of stew before she says, "I need to pay a visit to the island. Around this time, day after tomorrow. R'vain knows. Tia's staying behind."
He's between bites, but he lifts another to his mouth slowly, chewing his way through it, remembering to take the spoon out of his mouth, and swallowing. "I'd like to come," he offers quietly, turning his head to regard her solemnly.
Blink. Roa lifts her own head to study her weyrmate before she slowly shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she replies very softly, "You can't."
Perhaps he expected this, for there's a slow nod. "I'd like to," he repeats quietly, unmoved.
"Cassiel's balking," Roa says. She leans forward to set her bowl on the table, the pretense of being interested in the food set aside. "Of the people we asked her to allow when she comes forward, I'm one of the few she permitted. I need to speak with her and see if she can be convinced, for her safety and ours, to allow the others. That's what the meeting's about. There isn't time to speak on other things, and I'm afraid bringing anybody else new, even someone she knows, would seem like a breach of trust. I need her to hear me, I need her not to be distracted. If..." she swallows once, "if he's there, I need the same from him. Please, Ash. You can't."
"They've seen me before," Ashwin murmurs, but she's already counteracted that. He leans forward to set his bowl down, one finger pushing it away another few inches, and sucks in a slow breath through his nose. "Can't make you," he observes, very quiet now, very blank.
"Don't make this..." the weyrwoman bites her lower lip and looks away. "This is very hard for me. I wish I wasn't going, but I think I have to. I wish Tialith was coming, but she needs to stay behind. Write a letter. I'll make sure he gets it. I know it's not the same."
Ashwin nods slowly, still studying his hands, pale eyes unblinking. "Derek be there?" Another slow breath in through his nose that's released through lips barely parted. "What guarantee is there that you're safe?"
"No, he won't. Not unless something's gone wrong," Roa answers. "Tialith's the guarantee. And Ruvoth. If something's not right, she'll find me and the weyrleader will follow. Stay here, near her, you want to come too, in that case." One leg comes up, arms wrapping loosely around it.
Very slowly, Ashwin nods, jaw squared. "I'll write something tonight," he murmurs, looking up from his hands to his abandoned bowl of stew. "I'd prefer to go," he repeats once more, quiet, as his hands come to rest on his knees, and he levers himself slowly upright. "I'm going to speak to Lorna, I'll be back in time to sleep."
"I know you'd--Lorna?" The little weyrwoman's eyes widen and her lips part as if she'd say something about that. But, whatever it was, it's swallowed back and she only nods instead.
He waited, to hear whatever might come, but what she manages earns only a nod, and Ashwin gives her that. "Good night," he murmurs, turning, and leaning down so he can bring a hand up to the back of her neck, and hold her so while he kisses her gently. After that, he leaves, hands burrowed deep into his jacket pockets, and without glancing back.
Time: Evening on Day 26, Month 2, Turn 3
Players: Roa and Ashwin
Scene: Roa tells Ashwin that she's headed to the island.
It's the evening of Day 26 in the second month, and Roa is settled in the north weyr, on one of the plush couches. Her legs are drawn up, arms wrapped around them, chin on her knees. Shoeless feet curl around the curve of the couch cushions. She blinks down at the table with a hide resting atop it, but considering the hide is blank, stylus and ink untouched beside it, she cannot actually be reading anything.
Tialith is out on the ledge, curled but wakeful.
Ashwin comes bearing a meal, one arm wrapped around a pot that's warm, to judge by the way he's got his jacket sleeve pulled up over his hand. He lifts his head to observe her as he crosses over to the table, carefully setting down the pot and shaking out his arm. Then, after regarding her a moment longer, he walks over to where she's seated, easing down to sit beside her on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees. "All curled up," he observes quietly, joining her in looking at the blank hide.
Her gaze lifts as Ashwin appears, and Roa straightens a little, waiting to see if the pot needs any help. "Long day," she replies softly, leaning to place a small kiss along his jawline before uncurling to fetch bowls, forks and spoons for whatever it is that Ashwin has brought to eat. "How was yours?"
He has a small twitch of a private smile for that kiss, eyes closing just for an instant. A huge covered pot, he brought, that will yield stew in time. He shifts his weight back on the couch, and leans back into it as she rises, hands coming up to scrub at his face. "Long enough," he agrees, tilting his head towards the ledge. "She out there? How's she doing?"
"She is," Roa agrees as she lifts the top off of the pot and peers down into it. "Awful lot of stew for just two folks." Her dark blue eyes drift upwards, one brow arching in query. "She's feeling restless. She wanted cooler air. She's all right." One bowl is lifted and held, hovering near the pot as an unspoken question.
"Hungry," Ash offers with a shrug. He watches her move, quiet and calm, absorbing her words without any apparent need to reply, except to the last. "Let's eat it over here," he offers after a moment's consideration. "And you can tell me if she's worked out how many she's carrying yet. I'd appreciate the tip."
"Too many, she says," Roa offers with a small laugh. "They don't think about numbers." She spoons up a heaping bowlful of stew and sets it down. The second bowl, intended for her, is filled about a third of the way before the serving spoon is set back into the pot. The first bowl and a spoon are both lifted and held out to Ashwin, before Roa takes her own fare and again seats herself beside him. "Have you got another scheme for how to increase your marks?" She picks up her spoon and pokes idly at the stew. "Or just going to try your luck this time?"
Ashwin leans forward to take his bowl, wrapping both hands around it, and studying it for omens or portents of the eggs its server's queen will produce. "Hard to resist the urge to put down a bet, knowing what it'll do to the books," he admits, deadpan. "Thinking on it." Silence then, as he munches quietly for a time. And finally, "Out with it, then."
As Ashwin eats, Roa only moves meat and tubers about the bowl with her spoon, listening without looking. Her legs curl up beside her. At his final words, she heaves a small sigh, but offers no protest. The weyrwoman at least waits until Ashwin is between bites of stew before she says, "I need to pay a visit to the island. Around this time, day after tomorrow. R'vain knows. Tia's staying behind."
He's between bites, but he lifts another to his mouth slowly, chewing his way through it, remembering to take the spoon out of his mouth, and swallowing. "I'd like to come," he offers quietly, turning his head to regard her solemnly.
Blink. Roa lifts her own head to study her weyrmate before she slowly shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she replies very softly, "You can't."
Perhaps he expected this, for there's a slow nod. "I'd like to," he repeats quietly, unmoved.
"Cassiel's balking," Roa says. She leans forward to set her bowl on the table, the pretense of being interested in the food set aside. "Of the people we asked her to allow when she comes forward, I'm one of the few she permitted. I need to speak with her and see if she can be convinced, for her safety and ours, to allow the others. That's what the meeting's about. There isn't time to speak on other things, and I'm afraid bringing anybody else new, even someone she knows, would seem like a breach of trust. I need her to hear me, I need her not to be distracted. If..." she swallows once, "if he's there, I need the same from him. Please, Ash. You can't."
"They've seen me before," Ashwin murmurs, but she's already counteracted that. He leans forward to set his bowl down, one finger pushing it away another few inches, and sucks in a slow breath through his nose. "Can't make you," he observes, very quiet now, very blank.
"Don't make this..." the weyrwoman bites her lower lip and looks away. "This is very hard for me. I wish I wasn't going, but I think I have to. I wish Tialith was coming, but she needs to stay behind. Write a letter. I'll make sure he gets it. I know it's not the same."
Ashwin nods slowly, still studying his hands, pale eyes unblinking. "Derek be there?" Another slow breath in through his nose that's released through lips barely parted. "What guarantee is there that you're safe?"
"No, he won't. Not unless something's gone wrong," Roa answers. "Tialith's the guarantee. And Ruvoth. If something's not right, she'll find me and the weyrleader will follow. Stay here, near her, you want to come too, in that case." One leg comes up, arms wrapping loosely around it.
Very slowly, Ashwin nods, jaw squared. "I'll write something tonight," he murmurs, looking up from his hands to his abandoned bowl of stew. "I'd prefer to go," he repeats once more, quiet, as his hands come to rest on his knees, and he levers himself slowly upright. "I'm going to speak to Lorna, I'll be back in time to sleep."
"I know you'd--Lorna?" The little weyrwoman's eyes widen and her lips part as if she'd say something about that. But, whatever it was, it's swallowed back and she only nods instead.
He waited, to hear whatever might come, but what she manages earns only a nod, and Ashwin gives her that. "Good night," he murmurs, turning, and leaning down so he can bring a hand up to the back of her neck, and hold her so while he kisses her gently. After that, he leaves, hands burrowed deep into his jacket pockets, and without glancing back.