Home With News
Location: Aramia's Bar in Tillek
Time: Afternoon on Day 2, Month 6, Turn 3
Players: Ashwin, Aramia, Seyra, The Girls
Scene: After Roa gets the affirmative from the healers, Ashwin goes home to tell his family she's expecting. The reaction is not what he imagined.
The bar at Tillek is as ever it was in the late afternoon. Everyone is congregated in the main room, around the tables, and the lunch is sliced wherry and some simple greens. The primary difference at Aramia's is that two faces are missing (though Ashwin will have seen them far more recently) and that there is, instead, a new girl that he won't recognize. She's tall, with an inch even on Aramia, tanned, with dark blonde hair falling in a braid to her shoulders. She wears warm colors, reds and yellows, and while she's laughing at something Fen has recently said, she keeps quiet to let the more senior women do the actual talking.
There's a way one jiggles the catch on the lock to gain entry even when it's closed fast, and the lock moves just that way just now, although the noise those within are making drowns it out. The door opens to admit a tall, pale figure, who stands for a moment to look the group over. Then, as though he's just arriving home after a morning's work, and there's nothing very particular about it, Ashwin closes the door, and hauls his coat off, turning to hang it up.
As the pale figure enters, there is a general chorus of "Hey Ash," and "Hello, Ash," and "Wipe your feet!" Aramia only looks over and offers him a faint nod and perhaps a slight lift of her brows. His coming and goings have become a part of life here, as much as his overall presence was a couple turns ago. The new woman leans over to ask something quietly of Seyra. Seyra laughs quietly and responds, getting a wide-eyed nod and an 'ohhhhhhh' from the tan blonde. It is still Triess that stands and asks, "You want a plate?" Her smile, however, is tamer than it used to be when Ashwin came by for visits.
Ashwin lifts his head in brief acknowledgment, but it's not until he turns that he gives them a hint of his mood. Even for their quiet, serious Ashwin, he's grave, without a hint of his usual greeting on his face, or in his eyes. "Please," he murmurs to Triess, beginning to cross the floor towards the table, a folded piece of hide in hand. "Ella sent me a letter," he continues, quiet. He leans in between Seyra and the newcomer to set it down on the table, and takes a step back.
Triess is moving towards where the food sits on the bar, though she slows for a few steps as that letter is set down. Still, he asked, so the plate is filled quickly and passed off to Ashwin. While the girls all peer down at the thing as if it might bite them, it is Seyra who lifts and opens it under Darcie's muttered commentary of "Ella can /write/?" Aramia moves a few paces away to straighten the chairs of a different table as Seyra begins to read.
"Hello everyone,
I guess I should start by saying that it looks like I'm staying at the weyr. It's a funny sort of place, but I guess I like it well enough, and anyhow it's been decided. Red's doing all right. Maybe he misses having a place to go to, but maybe it's easier now. Lyren's doing fine, too. She says she means to write too, but she always says that, so I wouldn't hold your breath or anything. Except for you, Darcie. You can hold it all you want." There are a few giggles and Perri who notes, "I don't get it..." before Seyra continues.
"I used to go walking around the bowl sometimes. It's getting warmer and if it's early, sometimes I get to see Ash and the men training, and that's a fine sight, but I don't need to tell all of YOU that." More gigglings before Seyra can resume. "He's the same as ever most ways, but he walks lighter somehow. I think he's good, too. He doesn't tell me much.
I guess I'd better get down to it cuz breaks are short and there's not much time. I stood for that clutch I guess you'll hear has hatched. Tialith's. You might have heard about the Captain on bronze. That's Jensen. He was Ashwin's captain. Fucked if I know what happens next. And the girl Dara on blue. I guess she needs some watching over. I guess I'm doing that now. So anyhow, now I'm a greenrider. Her name's Reth and she's a fucking pain in the ass, but that's all right. Me too. So, I'm doing all right, but there won't be any visits for a while. Then I guess I can visit a lot. You should write, you ever need a rider's help. Ella"
There is silence for a beat, and then the room just erupts with shrieks of laughter, everyone talking at one and flurries of motion as the actual hide is passed around so everyone can see.
As for Ashwin, well, there's the suggestion of a hint of colour as he comes under Ella's absent eye, his gaze fixing on the far wall until that part's over. But the grave face, designed to set hearts sinking, is abandoned, and there's a hint of a smile around his mouth, and a crinkling around the corners of his eyes. He rides out the flurry of motion, and stands fast through the shrieks, although pale eyes flicker over each of the women in turn, as though he's storing up a silent list of their reactions for later recounting. Perhaps he is.
Eventually the din quiets again and it's somehow Aramia that's left holding the letter. It is folded up carefully and tucked into an apron pocket until it can go someplace safer. "Two dragonriders," she murmurs with a small shake of her head. "Well?" asks Fenten of Ashwin, "what's Reth look like?" "Did you get to talk to Ella?" inquires Perri. "Is she really all right?" Delia wants to know. Seyra stands, holding her hands up, laughing. "The man just came home. Let him eat, would you? Questions'll hold. Bar's opening soon. Come on and finish up." She begins to gather up those plates that are already empty.
"She's green, she's littler than she'll be later on, she's giving Ella a run for it," Ashwin replies quietly, waiting for the quiet that momentarily comes after Seyra's words before he replies. "She's all right." He's still standing, holding the plate Triess handed to him, and turns his head to catch Aramia's eye. He waits until he has, and then jerks his head towards the stairs, in a silent request.
There are many a verbal complaint for such 'helpful' descriptions, but perhaps they also know he wouldn't joke unless everything was well. More of the plates are gathered and the girls begin to disperse. Once everyone has a task they're busy doing, Aramia simply heads up the stairs and into her own rooms, leaving the door a little bit ajar behind her.
Ashwin sets his meal, untouched, down on the edge of the table for someone else to gather up. He drifts quietly through the chatter that's going on around the room, pale eyes lingering briefly on the new girl. His eyes find Seyra as well, as he passes her by, and indicate the stairs with a flicker. It's a sort of a question, in Ashwin-speak. She might, perhaps like to join them. Or she might not, and that will be okay. With only that flicker, he follows Aramia up the stairs, pausing at the doorway to look in at her.
What Ashwin will find is Aramia seated at her table, waiting for her son to respond to his own summons. After he slips inside, Seyra soon follows, tossing Ashwin a glance, and then Aramia. This isn't usual and it has the dark-haired woman swallowing down a frown as she moves to follow Aramia's example and take a seat. "Something to drink?" Aramia asks.
"No thank you," Ashwin replies, waiting by the door, and reaching back to push it shut. He makes a false start, opening his mouth to speak, and finding himself without words. He ducks his head, uncharacteristically, and the hint of colour that was present downstairs is back again, along with the smile that shows at the corners of his eyes. He looks up at the two women, to speak. "Roa's pregnant." And Ashwin is pleased, and proud, quietly.
The response is perhaps not what Ashwin expects. The pair of women stare at him for a long stretch, and then turn to peer at one another. Then, back to the Lieutenant. It's Seyra who finally breaks the quiet. "Ash, that's..." she fishes up a smile for him in some attempt to hide the other, less pleased expression that wants to slip onto her features. Aramia, by this point, is blank faced again. "How far along?" Seyra ends with.
Ashwin waits, and though he only shifts his expression by a degree or two, it's clear he's becoming abruptly disconcerted. "About a third of the way?" He makes it a question, though it shouldn't be, and in his tone is the question he wants to ask, querying their expressions.
"And she's...I mean, everything's going good?" Seyra asks, shifting a little in her chair. She turns to Aramia to add, more quietly, "You think we should see if Polena would--" Aramia only shakes her head briefly, "They've plenty of healers over there." "Yeah, I know but Polly's...we trust her, is all." Ashwin's mother draws a slow and careful breath in though her nose before turning to regard her son in silence. "You'd better sit," she informs him.
There's a new world of question in Ashwin's face, now, and slowly he walks forward, to pull out the chair opposite the two women, and settle into it. All of this, without his eyes flickering away from their faces. "We want it," he murmurs, the words quiet. "Choosing to keep it."
Seyra nods faintly and falls quiet. It's Aramia's turn to speak. If Seyra was responsible for the gentle touch, it has ever been Aramia that's had to deliver the hard blows. "All right," the older woman agrees, allowing his statement to settle and become a given for her next words. "Roa's a very small woman. Very thin." These comments are delivered in a tone just a wee bit softer than the one Aramia usually speaks in, "You understand what that means?"
"No," Ashwin murmurs, drawing the word out to make it a sort of a question, as he shakes his head. He edges back in his chair, so that it moves with him, and scrapes across the floor. "Congratulations, Ash? That's wonderful news? Is she pleased? Hope it takes after its mother?" There's a faint note of irritation to his voice, although barely detectable.
Seyra bites her bottom lip, "Of course it's wonderful. Seeing you with a family would be...it'd be quite a sight. You're going to visit, aren't you? We’ll get to meet him? Or her?" But they're not quite the same as they should be, those words. They're offered up to ease his disapproval as Aramia moves her hands from her chair's arms and into her lap. Ashwin's ma offers no supplication. She only picks up where she left off. "A woman has hips for a reason. This would be it. Any sort of birth is a risk but Roa..." here is where others would taper off and leave the rest to imagination. Aramia draws in a careful breath. "She isn't built for it, and that makes it more dangerous for her than for most."
Ashwin's jaw squares then, and his shoulders lift a little, and don't settle quite the same way. "Explain dangerous," he murmurs, a hint of a command entering his voice - a tone that's usually kept for others, and certainly not his family.
In this particular instance, that tone is allowed when it otherwise wouldn't be. Not, at least, when directed at Aramia. "At the worst? The baby could die. Or she could. He's going to have to be small, to come out easily. You're not, particularly." Aramia lets that lie for a moment before adding, "Or it could be all right and everything normal."
Abruptly, Ashwin comes to his feet, pushing his chair back with another scrape. It catches on the edge of the rug, and falls backwards. Reflexes or no, he makes no effort to catch it, and lets it crash down, standing to look down at the two women. Fists balling, then fingers extending, then balling up again.
Seyra jerks as Ashwin surges forward. He's not abrupt, usually. She's not used to it. Aramia is shot a bit of a look (which she ignores) and then Seyra stands to come around and righten the fallen chair. Aramia doesn't move. She only watches her son, her own jaw tight, her body held very still and careful. "Or," she repeats again, clear and precise, "it could be fine and everything normal. You'll want a good healer. Someone who knows childbirth. There's things that can be done, if signs say it's not going right."
Ashwin shakes his head, in a sharp, sudden movement. "It's early, yet. We'll get rid of it." His words are clipped, abrupt. "Now I know. She didn't say."
"If she didn't say," Aramia suggests, still calm and softspoken, "then maybe this is why."
Ashwin sniffs, sucking in a long breath. "Then she's wrong," he replies. "Don't need a family, I've got her. I've got one here."
Chair set to rights, Seyra steps up beside him. "Children have been showing up from all sorts of parents for a long time. Women smaller than her have done it. Women younger, too. She can, if that's what she wants. You've got your Caucus, right? And a whole mess of healers, besides. You think they won't manage to keep a Weyrwoman healthy?" Aramia doesn't say anything else. She's only watching Ashwin now.
"It's not what she wants, is it?" Ashwin's response is a fierce scowl, and almost a bark. "It's what she can see will please me. Now we've got it, by accident, she's --" He shakes his head, one hand coming up to rest behind his neck for a moment, before he turns to go.
"Ash, don't. I didn't mean...wait..." Seyra moves to go after him but Aramia stops her with her name. "Seyra. Let him. It's his and hers to work out." "Faranth," Seyra turns, arms crossing, "You didn't have to be so..." but their voices are soft and fade off into obscurity almost as soon as Ashwin is out of the room.
He doesn't go far, but halts outside the door for a moment, pushing it shut so he can lean back against the wall beside the door. So he can tilt his head back, bring up his hands to cup over his mouth, breathe into them. Long, ragged breaths.
Time: Afternoon on Day 2, Month 6, Turn 3
Players: Ashwin, Aramia, Seyra, The Girls
Scene: After Roa gets the affirmative from the healers, Ashwin goes home to tell his family she's expecting. The reaction is not what he imagined.
The bar at Tillek is as ever it was in the late afternoon. Everyone is congregated in the main room, around the tables, and the lunch is sliced wherry and some simple greens. The primary difference at Aramia's is that two faces are missing (though Ashwin will have seen them far more recently) and that there is, instead, a new girl that he won't recognize. She's tall, with an inch even on Aramia, tanned, with dark blonde hair falling in a braid to her shoulders. She wears warm colors, reds and yellows, and while she's laughing at something Fen has recently said, she keeps quiet to let the more senior women do the actual talking.
There's a way one jiggles the catch on the lock to gain entry even when it's closed fast, and the lock moves just that way just now, although the noise those within are making drowns it out. The door opens to admit a tall, pale figure, who stands for a moment to look the group over. Then, as though he's just arriving home after a morning's work, and there's nothing very particular about it, Ashwin closes the door, and hauls his coat off, turning to hang it up.
As the pale figure enters, there is a general chorus of "Hey Ash," and "Hello, Ash," and "Wipe your feet!" Aramia only looks over and offers him a faint nod and perhaps a slight lift of her brows. His coming and goings have become a part of life here, as much as his overall presence was a couple turns ago. The new woman leans over to ask something quietly of Seyra. Seyra laughs quietly and responds, getting a wide-eyed nod and an 'ohhhhhhh' from the tan blonde. It is still Triess that stands and asks, "You want a plate?" Her smile, however, is tamer than it used to be when Ashwin came by for visits.
Ashwin lifts his head in brief acknowledgment, but it's not until he turns that he gives them a hint of his mood. Even for their quiet, serious Ashwin, he's grave, without a hint of his usual greeting on his face, or in his eyes. "Please," he murmurs to Triess, beginning to cross the floor towards the table, a folded piece of hide in hand. "Ella sent me a letter," he continues, quiet. He leans in between Seyra and the newcomer to set it down on the table, and takes a step back.
Triess is moving towards where the food sits on the bar, though she slows for a few steps as that letter is set down. Still, he asked, so the plate is filled quickly and passed off to Ashwin. While the girls all peer down at the thing as if it might bite them, it is Seyra who lifts and opens it under Darcie's muttered commentary of "Ella can /write/?" Aramia moves a few paces away to straighten the chairs of a different table as Seyra begins to read.
"Hello everyone,
I guess I should start by saying that it looks like I'm staying at the weyr. It's a funny sort of place, but I guess I like it well enough, and anyhow it's been decided. Red's doing all right. Maybe he misses having a place to go to, but maybe it's easier now. Lyren's doing fine, too. She says she means to write too, but she always says that, so I wouldn't hold your breath or anything. Except for you, Darcie. You can hold it all you want." There are a few giggles and Perri who notes, "I don't get it..." before Seyra continues.
"I used to go walking around the bowl sometimes. It's getting warmer and if it's early, sometimes I get to see Ash and the men training, and that's a fine sight, but I don't need to tell all of YOU that." More gigglings before Seyra can resume. "He's the same as ever most ways, but he walks lighter somehow. I think he's good, too. He doesn't tell me much.
I guess I'd better get down to it cuz breaks are short and there's not much time. I stood for that clutch I guess you'll hear has hatched. Tialith's. You might have heard about the Captain on bronze. That's Jensen. He was Ashwin's captain. Fucked if I know what happens next. And the girl Dara on blue. I guess she needs some watching over. I guess I'm doing that now. So anyhow, now I'm a greenrider. Her name's Reth and she's a fucking pain in the ass, but that's all right. Me too. So, I'm doing all right, but there won't be any visits for a while. Then I guess I can visit a lot. You should write, you ever need a rider's help. Ella"
There is silence for a beat, and then the room just erupts with shrieks of laughter, everyone talking at one and flurries of motion as the actual hide is passed around so everyone can see.
As for Ashwin, well, there's the suggestion of a hint of colour as he comes under Ella's absent eye, his gaze fixing on the far wall until that part's over. But the grave face, designed to set hearts sinking, is abandoned, and there's a hint of a smile around his mouth, and a crinkling around the corners of his eyes. He rides out the flurry of motion, and stands fast through the shrieks, although pale eyes flicker over each of the women in turn, as though he's storing up a silent list of their reactions for later recounting. Perhaps he is.
Eventually the din quiets again and it's somehow Aramia that's left holding the letter. It is folded up carefully and tucked into an apron pocket until it can go someplace safer. "Two dragonriders," she murmurs with a small shake of her head. "Well?" asks Fenten of Ashwin, "what's Reth look like?" "Did you get to talk to Ella?" inquires Perri. "Is she really all right?" Delia wants to know. Seyra stands, holding her hands up, laughing. "The man just came home. Let him eat, would you? Questions'll hold. Bar's opening soon. Come on and finish up." She begins to gather up those plates that are already empty.
"She's green, she's littler than she'll be later on, she's giving Ella a run for it," Ashwin replies quietly, waiting for the quiet that momentarily comes after Seyra's words before he replies. "She's all right." He's still standing, holding the plate Triess handed to him, and turns his head to catch Aramia's eye. He waits until he has, and then jerks his head towards the stairs, in a silent request.
There are many a verbal complaint for such 'helpful' descriptions, but perhaps they also know he wouldn't joke unless everything was well. More of the plates are gathered and the girls begin to disperse. Once everyone has a task they're busy doing, Aramia simply heads up the stairs and into her own rooms, leaving the door a little bit ajar behind her.
Ashwin sets his meal, untouched, down on the edge of the table for someone else to gather up. He drifts quietly through the chatter that's going on around the room, pale eyes lingering briefly on the new girl. His eyes find Seyra as well, as he passes her by, and indicate the stairs with a flicker. It's a sort of a question, in Ashwin-speak. She might, perhaps like to join them. Or she might not, and that will be okay. With only that flicker, he follows Aramia up the stairs, pausing at the doorway to look in at her.
What Ashwin will find is Aramia seated at her table, waiting for her son to respond to his own summons. After he slips inside, Seyra soon follows, tossing Ashwin a glance, and then Aramia. This isn't usual and it has the dark-haired woman swallowing down a frown as she moves to follow Aramia's example and take a seat. "Something to drink?" Aramia asks.
"No thank you," Ashwin replies, waiting by the door, and reaching back to push it shut. He makes a false start, opening his mouth to speak, and finding himself without words. He ducks his head, uncharacteristically, and the hint of colour that was present downstairs is back again, along with the smile that shows at the corners of his eyes. He looks up at the two women, to speak. "Roa's pregnant." And Ashwin is pleased, and proud, quietly.
The response is perhaps not what Ashwin expects. The pair of women stare at him for a long stretch, and then turn to peer at one another. Then, back to the Lieutenant. It's Seyra who finally breaks the quiet. "Ash, that's..." she fishes up a smile for him in some attempt to hide the other, less pleased expression that wants to slip onto her features. Aramia, by this point, is blank faced again. "How far along?" Seyra ends with.
Ashwin waits, and though he only shifts his expression by a degree or two, it's clear he's becoming abruptly disconcerted. "About a third of the way?" He makes it a question, though it shouldn't be, and in his tone is the question he wants to ask, querying their expressions.
"And she's...I mean, everything's going good?" Seyra asks, shifting a little in her chair. She turns to Aramia to add, more quietly, "You think we should see if Polena would--" Aramia only shakes her head briefly, "They've plenty of healers over there." "Yeah, I know but Polly's...we trust her, is all." Ashwin's mother draws a slow and careful breath in though her nose before turning to regard her son in silence. "You'd better sit," she informs him.
There's a new world of question in Ashwin's face, now, and slowly he walks forward, to pull out the chair opposite the two women, and settle into it. All of this, without his eyes flickering away from their faces. "We want it," he murmurs, the words quiet. "Choosing to keep it."
Seyra nods faintly and falls quiet. It's Aramia's turn to speak. If Seyra was responsible for the gentle touch, it has ever been Aramia that's had to deliver the hard blows. "All right," the older woman agrees, allowing his statement to settle and become a given for her next words. "Roa's a very small woman. Very thin." These comments are delivered in a tone just a wee bit softer than the one Aramia usually speaks in, "You understand what that means?"
"No," Ashwin murmurs, drawing the word out to make it a sort of a question, as he shakes his head. He edges back in his chair, so that it moves with him, and scrapes across the floor. "Congratulations, Ash? That's wonderful news? Is she pleased? Hope it takes after its mother?" There's a faint note of irritation to his voice, although barely detectable.
Seyra bites her bottom lip, "Of course it's wonderful. Seeing you with a family would be...it'd be quite a sight. You're going to visit, aren't you? We’ll get to meet him? Or her?" But they're not quite the same as they should be, those words. They're offered up to ease his disapproval as Aramia moves her hands from her chair's arms and into her lap. Ashwin's ma offers no supplication. She only picks up where she left off. "A woman has hips for a reason. This would be it. Any sort of birth is a risk but Roa..." here is where others would taper off and leave the rest to imagination. Aramia draws in a careful breath. "She isn't built for it, and that makes it more dangerous for her than for most."
Ashwin's jaw squares then, and his shoulders lift a little, and don't settle quite the same way. "Explain dangerous," he murmurs, a hint of a command entering his voice - a tone that's usually kept for others, and certainly not his family.
In this particular instance, that tone is allowed when it otherwise wouldn't be. Not, at least, when directed at Aramia. "At the worst? The baby could die. Or she could. He's going to have to be small, to come out easily. You're not, particularly." Aramia lets that lie for a moment before adding, "Or it could be all right and everything normal."
Abruptly, Ashwin comes to his feet, pushing his chair back with another scrape. It catches on the edge of the rug, and falls backwards. Reflexes or no, he makes no effort to catch it, and lets it crash down, standing to look down at the two women. Fists balling, then fingers extending, then balling up again.
Seyra jerks as Ashwin surges forward. He's not abrupt, usually. She's not used to it. Aramia is shot a bit of a look (which she ignores) and then Seyra stands to come around and righten the fallen chair. Aramia doesn't move. She only watches her son, her own jaw tight, her body held very still and careful. "Or," she repeats again, clear and precise, "it could be fine and everything normal. You'll want a good healer. Someone who knows childbirth. There's things that can be done, if signs say it's not going right."
Ashwin shakes his head, in a sharp, sudden movement. "It's early, yet. We'll get rid of it." His words are clipped, abrupt. "Now I know. She didn't say."
"If she didn't say," Aramia suggests, still calm and softspoken, "then maybe this is why."
Ashwin sniffs, sucking in a long breath. "Then she's wrong," he replies. "Don't need a family, I've got her. I've got one here."
Chair set to rights, Seyra steps up beside him. "Children have been showing up from all sorts of parents for a long time. Women smaller than her have done it. Women younger, too. She can, if that's what she wants. You've got your Caucus, right? And a whole mess of healers, besides. You think they won't manage to keep a Weyrwoman healthy?" Aramia doesn't say anything else. She's only watching Ashwin now.
"It's not what she wants, is it?" Ashwin's response is a fierce scowl, and almost a bark. "It's what she can see will please me. Now we've got it, by accident, she's --" He shakes his head, one hand coming up to rest behind his neck for a moment, before he turns to go.
"Ash, don't. I didn't mean...wait..." Seyra moves to go after him but Aramia stops her with her name. "Seyra. Let him. It's his and hers to work out." "Faranth," Seyra turns, arms crossing, "You didn't have to be so..." but their voices are soft and fade off into obscurity almost as soon as Ashwin is out of the room.
He doesn't go far, but halts outside the door for a moment, pushing it shut so he can lean back against the wall beside the door. So he can tilt his head back, bring up his hands to cup over his mouth, breathe into them. Long, ragged breaths.