Stretch
Location: Southern Bowl
Time: Nighttime on Day 22, Month 5, Turn 2 (the night of the Hatching)
Players: Roa and Ashwin
Scene: Whatever Ashwin was hoping for, this sure wasn't it.
Hatching celebrations tends to go strong long after the weyrlings themselves have gone to bed. Especially in the Reaches and especially now when cheer is so desperately needed, this revelrie is no exception. The little Telgari weyrwoman arrived late, fingers stained pink, with a very pale and slightly jumpy Tannum following in her wake. The hour's appearance she's made in the living cavern has mostly consisted of swallowing down two glasses of wine in quick order and smiling politely as a rather good looking and self-assured bronzerider from Ista monopolized her conversation and occasionally found inane excuses to touch her hair, knot, once her cheek (I think you have an eyelash there. Here, blow and make a wish.) Roa is all practiced smiles, polite nodding and an occasional wistful glance towards the door when the Caucus bronzer offers her a bit of respite to refill his own drink. But now she is making courteous excuses for why she must turn in, really cannot take a walk around the lake, but what a nice offer, and yes, she's quite certain she'll see him in class the next seven, but for now it really must be good evening. And then, thank Faranth, she's making for the door.
Especially at High Reaches there is a concern about security, as well. Guards dot the cavern, doing their best to seem inconspicuous as the lean back against walls, scanning the crowd politely - someone's reminded them to keep their hands off their weapons, and they might almost be polite guests who simply prefer not to talk. Ashwin is one of them, standing near the door and observing those who pass through it, offering polite nods in return for greetings. He's been watching in silence, impassive. Now, as Tannum peels away from the wall, wide-eyed, to follow Roa, Ashwin raises a hand to get his attention. His gesture is simple: he points to Tannum, them to the drinks table, then to himself, then to Roa.
Tannum's salute is, if a salute can be, tinged with adoration. Thank you thank you thank you. This isn't said of course, and it's not even apparent on the man's face, though he shoulders relax and his sharp turn towards the alcohol is a little frantic. As is the pouring and downing of several small glasses of something stronger than wine. Roa is, by the time she reaches the door, completely lost in her own thoughts. She is staring down at her reddened fingers which are ticking open and shut as if she is, perhaps, counting off a series of somethings in her head. She completely misses Ashwin, silent, by the door, and slips out into the night. Her new bronzeriding friend simply uses the opportunity to get a long look at the back of her. Certain areas in particular, for all her long skirt doesn't do much to accentuate them.
Ashwin looks back towards the bronzerider for a moment. There's no challenge in his gaze, nothing discourteous - he simply eyes the man for an extended period, as though memorising his features for some future purpose. Then he turns on his heel to follow Roa out into the darkness, hands coming up to push aside his jacket and rest on the two hilts at his belt. His step is a little different to Tannum's, lighter. He makes no move to indicate his identity, though, simply following in silence.
The bronzerider, in typical fashion, just doesn't notice he's being observed by a guard. Why would he? Notice. Or be observed, for that matter. As Roa leaves he's headed off into the crowd to select some other lovely lady to try his luck with. Roa walks with no particular hurry, through the bowl and towards the barracks, head down, still ticking something off on her fingers. After a few minutes, her hands fall to her sides. Without looking back or giving much of a greeting she says, softly and seemingly to the night air, "I think I broke Tannum." Which perhaps implies that she is aware her trailing detail is not said man.
Ashwin meanders along behind her, lifting his head every so often to survey their surroundings. Her words don't appear to catch him by surprise, although he chews over his reply before it's offered. "Tannum's tough. He'll fill in whatever cracks you made with a drink or two, and it'll set solid by morning. You'll never know he got chipped." And with that philosophical offering, he falls silent once more.
Roa mmms faintly, the tone decidedly unconvinced. But she doesn't argue. Just makes her way, trudging, clearly exhausted. Although instead of turning right to veer into the barracks, she turns left instead. Keeping the cool air around them as she walks over to the southern bowl's wide lake, reflecting what moonlight there is between spring clouds. She finds a spot near the edge of the water, and beside a boulder that's angled so if one sits before it, they're mostly hidden save if you approach from one or two angles. Here, on the ground, she sits.
There's no comment or protest from her guardian as he's denied the warmth of the barracks and the chair that waits there, and Ashwin trails her in silence towards the lake. She sits, and he turns his back on the water and his gaze on the bowl, looking out across it and allowing that silence to draw for on for some time more before he speaks. Before he makes a sound, he drops to a crouch, one finger resting on the ground for balance. His words are quiet, barely breaking the silence. "I never know when you'd like me to take over from one of them, and when you'd rather just have someone you just don't have to speak to."
A glance is tipped in the Lieutenant's direction as he crouches. "Your company's always welcome, Ashwin. That should be painfully obvious by now." The corner of Roa's lips tip up in about as much of a smile as she can manage, and then she asks, simply enough, "We're all alone out here?"
"Sometimes I need a moment to myself," Ashwin murmurs, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Reckon you must, too." Even her tired smile earns her something in return; he flashes her a grin that's so quick to come that he must have been awaiting that cue. "We're alone, yes."
"Well, it's true enough that I need those moments, but with four men trailing after me, I mostly have to cheat and steal them. And if someone is expected to follow me about, yours is the company I'd choose." At his full and sudden grin, her little half-smile grows before slipping away again. Sadly, what ought to come next--her leaning in to steal a clandestine kiss--does not. Instead she turns to stare out at the water, fingers fishing around for a smooth and flat pebble amid those resting near her. Located, it's tossed with a practiced flick of her wrist and it goes skipping along the surface of the lake eight or nine times before vanishing into the depths. That skill the only other thing, besides the tan and an assortment of presents, that Roa brought back from Boll. "A couple of things I feel I should tell you. One you'll like. One you won't. You can pick which you'd rather hear first."
Ashwin turns his head to watch the pebble go skipping away, and when he turns back to her he hasn't quite successfully stowed his smile. For once, he steers clear of the neutral, faint smile still in place as he eases back until he's sitting on the ground, arms looped around his knees as usual. He's facing her, still in a position to see anyone approaching from the bowl. "Tell me what I'll like, first," he instructs her serenely.
The nod is small. A little ghost of a thing as the hand that threw the stone settles back in Roa's lap. "I spoke with her," she murmurs to the lake. There is no distinction as to who 'her' is, but these next words will clear it up, perhaps. "She promises she'll stop."
"Really?" Ashwin's head comes up quickly, that sharp movement signalling the impact of her words, although both movement and tone are moderated as he continues. "Thank you. I appreciate it." With those simple words he leans forward, pulling his knees in so his chin can rest on one of them. "What's the other thing."
"Really," Roa assures. "She meant it." Then she breathes slowly in and slowly out. A sure sign indeed, that she believes the next words from her lips are going to be unpleasant ones for him. They're simple too. "It's starting."
"She understands about needing your own place?" Ashwin's mildly curious, his faint smile yet to fade. But she presses on, and so does he, blinking slowly - the shutters quite visibly start to come down as her words sink in. "You mean your... I thought you were going to talk about it a little longer. Does the Captain know?" He uncurls a little, straightening his back. "Tell me what I should know."
The Telgari shakes her head from side to side, choosing to addess the easier topic first. "She doesn't," Roa says gently. "She can't understand that, really, anymore than you can understand why she'd find it perfectly allowable to look in the first place. But she understands how much you dislike it, and that was enough." That tiny smile appears again, though the reason for it isn't shared. Instead Roa looks down at her hands. "I thought I was too, but then I thought of something else. And, well, it had to start now. Nothing's going to happen for a while. It's on others just now. I only put forth an idea to someone. But if I'm right, it'll turn into something. And no, the Captain doesn't know. It's not my plan to run each little thing by him before I do it." A small hint of annoyance, perhaps, at that last.
"I'm not asking you to run every little thing by him," Ashwin returns mildly, refusing to rise to that rare irritation from her. "I'm not sure he'd agree with any of what you do. But he's got men on you who're to put themselves between you and danger."
"In this instance, that's not going to be necessary," Roa says with a quirk of a smile. "This shouldn't get connected with me, and it shouldn't cause any tension here directly. Well, any *more* tension, I suppose I should say." There's a brief pause. "I heard the Captain caught another one of those men skulking around. In the Infirmary, no less."
"I'm sure your detail will be pleased to hear it," Ashwin observes, equally mildly. He inclines his head, confirming what she heard. "That he did, yes." No more for a few moments, then, with a hint more animation: "Are you going to tell me what you've done?"
"No," Roa says, and she turns her head to watch Ashwin. The way he's seated and bent, chin on his knee. It's nearly as adorable as when he blushes and a hand reaches out to brush lightly over his knuckles where they loop around his legs. "But I'll give you a hint. You'll have to work it from there."
He reacts immediately, lifting his hand to try and catch at her fingers as they pass his own. "A hint." He's not so pleased with that. "You tell me something you know I won't like, and then you won't tell me enough that I can do anything about it." So many words in her presence, these days. "Give me my hint, then."
Her finger are easy to catch, and they stay, warm, soft, reeking of redwort, caught in his. "That's right," she agrees mildly. "You're going to have to piece things together on your own, if you really want to anticipate my or anyone else's getting hurt. You're going to have to start guessing what comes next. Might as well start now when it won't do any damage if you guess wrong. Here's your hint." She looks at him steadily before she gives this single word, "Nabol."
His fingers wrap around hers, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. It stills when she offers him that one word, his eyes snapping up from their inspection of her hand to her face. "Threadfall," he returns, offering just one word of his own.
A tiny nod, barely perceptible. But all Roa asks is, "What about it?" Her fingers curl gently around his, dark blue eyes settled on his face. Watching. Waiting.
"A wing went up to meet it without the Weyrleader's permission," Ashwin replies, gentle stroking of her hand resuming once more. "I had men from Nabol, they have family there. Tannum's Nabolese. What are you going to do? Send a wing up again?"
This time, she gives nothing away. No nod. No shake. Roa's gaze steady on his face. "Think on it," she says quietly. "And tell me when you've figured it out." Her hand lifts, holding Ashwin's, so she can softly kiss his knuckles.
"I don't want to play games with this, Roa." For once he's not distracted by a kiss of hers, eyes still on her face. "Will you find enough riders to do it again? I saw how the weyr welcomed them back, but the Weyrleader confined them."
"You don't want to. You're going to have you." His hand is slowly turned over so Roa's thumbs can press down into his palm. It's big enough compared to hers that they both fit in the middle and rub. "Answer your own question. Do you think riders from The Reaches will go against orders again?"
"Why? What do you gain from making me do this?" Ashwin's certainly not happy, but his displeasure remains mild for now. "I have no idea if Reaches riders will do it, it's a question for each man to answer alone. Some might, some won't."
"You gain the ability to do it again. In a situation where the answers are being hidden by more than me and some game by the lake." Her thumbs continue to rub, perhaps a soothing motion for Roa more than for him. "Some will, some won't. You think those who will are enough in number to do it?"
Ashwin grimaces, looking away for a moment - he is close to responding in irritation, reining himself in. "How many fly with a wing? There was a wing's worth last time. There might be again. Some of them might go back, and some more might join in because they want to be heroes. What are you trying to do? Prove to the Weyrleader that he has no authority?"
Roa's eyes close and she cannot help a small shake of her head. "Think, Ash. Look to the sides. Not just directly ahead. Do you really believe..." but here she stops, and goes a different route. "Tell me what you know about how dragons talk to one another. And their thoughts on privacy."
He softens slightly as she speaks his name, eyes dropping to where their hands are joined. "Tialith's given me an introduction to their thoughts on privacy," he points out, mild once more. "If she's an example, then they don't understand the need. I have no idea how they talk to each other. Like we do, I suppose?"
"Like we do," Roa agrees with him, "with less regard to privacy. And," here is a freebie, "they can speak over distances. Send messgaes to one another from opposite sides of the Weyr or farther if needed. There are around thirty dragons and their riders in a wing. Could thirty dragons keep a secret?"
Ashwin promptly shakes his head in response to that. "No. Thirty men can't, and sounds like dragons don't try as hard as that." He pauses, caught by a thought. "Maybe if a queen told them to? Would that work?" He tugs on her hand, lifting her fingers to his lips for a moment, looking past her to the bowl as he kisses them.
"Good," Roa says gently. "Maybe. That would depend on the queen, but let's go backwards. Tell me again what happened over Nabol before." Her fingers, once free of his kiss, linger to cup his cheek.
"Over Nabol?" Ashwin closes his eyes for a moment, turning his head into her touch. "Can't you just explain this to me? I don't need to learn how to do this." He exhales slowly, but obliges with a response. "A wing went up against the Weyrleader's orders. I assume they did it because they thought it was their duty, or because they wanted to cast him in a bad light."
Roa's hand stays as Ashwin turns into it. "I'm not going to tell you, but we can stop talking about it if you like." Her thumb brushes lightly against his chin. "Find some other way to pass the time." There's that smile, curling half of her mouth upwards. Making her eyes twinkle in the darkness.
"I can't believe I'm saying this." Ashwin's mutter is wry, and he returns her smile, but he lifts his head away from her touch to shake it. "No, I want to hear this. So they wanted to make him look bad, or they thought it was their duty. Keep talking."
"Probably both," Roa agrees, but her smile only broadens. Then she asks again, "Can thirty dragons keep a secret?"
"No." Ashwin's incapable of sounding sulky, but he's not pleased at being required to step through his lessons like a child reciting for a harper. "Thirty dragons can't keep a secret."
Another little nod. "What happened," Roa asks, "When the riders returned from Nabol?" Her hands settle again in her lap and she leans back a little.
"They got reamed by the Weyrleader in the middle of the bowl, and confined to their weyrs," Ashwin replies. He's getting the hang of this, though - for he's a little more forthcoming, obediently casting his mind sideways as well. "And some people thought they were heroes, and everybody talked about it. Those who don't support the Weyrleaders talked a lot."
More nodding. "What did folks think about the punishment given out? What did you think?" Her hands, in her lap, twine lightly together.
"I didn't think about it a whole lot," Ashwin replies, although he's visibly thinking about it now. "He had to do something. I suppose I thought it was a fair enough punishment. You've got to have discipline, whatever your riders think of what you say."
"Fair enough," Roa repeats Ashwin's words. "Why just fair enough?"
"What do you mean?" Ashwin frowns, unlooping his arms so he can bring them up to scrub at his face. "He had to do something. Discipline. He could have come down harder, but they were looking too popular for that. Captain would have applied the same rule to something similar."
"All right," say the little weyrwoman. "So then. Tell me what you know about J'cor." Her hands unclasp and she leans back, supporting herself on her elbows, head tipped to the side. "What do folks say about him, if you haven't given it much thought yourself."
"J'cor." Ashwin's voice is muffled, face still buried in his hands. "I changed my mind, can we just fool around?" Despite his request, though, he presses on. "He's your Weyrleader. They say he led a wing at Igen, and that he knows what he's doing. That's not why they don't like him. They say he doesn't know Reaches, had no right to be here."
"Good, Ash." One foot extends to rest in his lap. "we can stop any time you like. But I'm not telling you anything more than you can determine for yourself. Here's what I've heard about J'cor and what I've found from speaking with him. He seems forthright. He smokes a pipe. He was very interested in stregthening the wings, proving himself by success in fall. Worked with G'thon on some meeting with other Weyrleaders. His first order, when no tithes came, after he became Weyrleader at Reaches was to keep the wings from flying fall over Nabol." Ashwin may not notice, but there was one mistake he made while speaking. A mistake Roa does not correct.
"Good, then." Ashwin exhales slowly, and lifts his head, pale in the darkness. "Why do I have to do this? I'm not in one of your classes, I don't want to be. I want to know what I need to do to..." He breaks off, shaking his head. "You do realise that my orders are to keep the Weyrleader and his Weyrwoman just where they are? What do you want me to do, if my Captain tells me to do just that?"
Shoulders lift and shoulders fall. "Then do just that," Roa offers easily enough. "Do whatever your Captain tells you. Doing otherwise was your idea, not mine. Besides," her head tips to the side. "It's not so much looking like I have worry you'll suss me out, is it."
And just like that, the shutters come down. "It's not much looking like that," Ashwin agrees, wooden. "Quite safe." With a stretch, he comes to his feet, dusting himself off, his eyes already on the bowl once more.
Roa's eyebrows arch upwards in quiet surprise as all of the sudden the game ends. And they're not kissing. And Ashwin is decidedly unhappy. She stares down at her knees, not rising for a few moments, until her head jerks up suddenly. "That isn't what I meant," she murmurs, pushing to her own feet. "Ash. Turn around."
What she doesn't see is the way his eyes close for a moment, jaw squaring. By the time he turns obediently to face her, he's neutral once more, and almost conversational when he speaks. "Sometimes, I think I'd like it if we could do this the normal way," he observes.
"But we can't," is Roa's quiet reply. "Listen to me. That isn't what I meant. It's not...if you weren't spending half your time just thinking about how you don't want to be trying..." she tsks softly, looking away and to the ground. "You can't tell me a man who has to watch over a dozen men at a time, runs training sequences, composes intricate training routines of his own, organizes Faranth knows how many schedules a day...can't do this. You can. And if you want to know what's going on, you'll need to. That's how important it is."
"I didn't mean this, I meant us." Ashwin's facing her, but he's looking past her, eyes fixed on some far point as he speaks thoughtfully. "I can't walk away, I have to stay where you are. I should take myself off your detail, and do this differently." He reels his gaze back in so he can watch her, raising one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm tired. I'm not as clever as you think I am. I don't understand."
"Ah." And her gaze drops, shoulders slumping a little as well. "Just now, I'm somewhat liking the fact you can't walk away. Saves me the energy of having to run after you. Which is, anyhow, somewhat undignified." Roa glances up again, her smile there, but awfully weak. "You are as clever as I think you are. You just don't want to put it to the test. I know you don't understand, but you could. It's just going to take some practice thinking about things in ways you haven't before. You get sore, don't you, when you train in a new way? Try out something unfamiliar? Stretching new muscles. Well, it's the same thing."
"Undignified. As opposed to being forced to stand around and wait on you?" Ashwin's own smile is faint too, and rueful, but it's back. "Fine, I'll stretch the muscles in my head if it's what you want me to do. Have you started anything so urgent that it can't wait until morning, though?"
The Telgari shakes her head. "Nothing so urgent," she says. But then her brows arch up and her eyes twinkle. "Careful, there, Ash. You're starting to sound mighty untraditional, just now..." And the smile grows.
Ashwin's lips quirk for a moment, and he dismisses that line of conversation with a quick shake of his head. "Don't start, you hear me?" How's that for an untraditional form of address from guard to weyrwoman? One hand comes up to beckon her closer. "Come here, let me kiss you. Then I'm taking you back to the barracks. You've had a long day."
She steps foward, arms coming around his waist as Roa gets close enough. "Long day," she agrees. "And I need to be up early tomorrow to look in on that little blue." She has to tip her head back, when they're this close, to look up at his face. "You're a very smart man," she murmurs, rising up on her toes. "Don't let anybody make you think different. Certainly not me."
He wraps his arms around her, looking down with that faint hint of a smile. "I prefer using my hands, when it comes to getting something done," he replies. "Safer than changing minds that can change back without any sign of it that you'll see to warn you." On the verge of tipping back into debate once more, he suddenly shakes his head. "Not tonight." Tonight, instead, he kisses her.
Roa listens as he begins, but her only response, as he bends forward is "Good. I like it when you use your hands." But then he's kissing her and she seems more than willing to kiss back. Willing enough that, if she has her way, when they begin walking, it won't so much be in the direction of the dragon barracks.
Time: Nighttime on Day 22, Month 5, Turn 2 (the night of the Hatching)
Players: Roa and Ashwin
Scene: Whatever Ashwin was hoping for, this sure wasn't it.
Hatching celebrations tends to go strong long after the weyrlings themselves have gone to bed. Especially in the Reaches and especially now when cheer is so desperately needed, this revelrie is no exception. The little Telgari weyrwoman arrived late, fingers stained pink, with a very pale and slightly jumpy Tannum following in her wake. The hour's appearance she's made in the living cavern has mostly consisted of swallowing down two glasses of wine in quick order and smiling politely as a rather good looking and self-assured bronzerider from Ista monopolized her conversation and occasionally found inane excuses to touch her hair, knot, once her cheek (I think you have an eyelash there. Here, blow and make a wish.) Roa is all practiced smiles, polite nodding and an occasional wistful glance towards the door when the Caucus bronzer offers her a bit of respite to refill his own drink. But now she is making courteous excuses for why she must turn in, really cannot take a walk around the lake, but what a nice offer, and yes, she's quite certain she'll see him in class the next seven, but for now it really must be good evening. And then, thank Faranth, she's making for the door.
Especially at High Reaches there is a concern about security, as well. Guards dot the cavern, doing their best to seem inconspicuous as the lean back against walls, scanning the crowd politely - someone's reminded them to keep their hands off their weapons, and they might almost be polite guests who simply prefer not to talk. Ashwin is one of them, standing near the door and observing those who pass through it, offering polite nods in return for greetings. He's been watching in silence, impassive. Now, as Tannum peels away from the wall, wide-eyed, to follow Roa, Ashwin raises a hand to get his attention. His gesture is simple: he points to Tannum, them to the drinks table, then to himself, then to Roa.
Tannum's salute is, if a salute can be, tinged with adoration. Thank you thank you thank you. This isn't said of course, and it's not even apparent on the man's face, though he shoulders relax and his sharp turn towards the alcohol is a little frantic. As is the pouring and downing of several small glasses of something stronger than wine. Roa is, by the time she reaches the door, completely lost in her own thoughts. She is staring down at her reddened fingers which are ticking open and shut as if she is, perhaps, counting off a series of somethings in her head. She completely misses Ashwin, silent, by the door, and slips out into the night. Her new bronzeriding friend simply uses the opportunity to get a long look at the back of her. Certain areas in particular, for all her long skirt doesn't do much to accentuate them.
Ashwin looks back towards the bronzerider for a moment. There's no challenge in his gaze, nothing discourteous - he simply eyes the man for an extended period, as though memorising his features for some future purpose. Then he turns on his heel to follow Roa out into the darkness, hands coming up to push aside his jacket and rest on the two hilts at his belt. His step is a little different to Tannum's, lighter. He makes no move to indicate his identity, though, simply following in silence.
The bronzerider, in typical fashion, just doesn't notice he's being observed by a guard. Why would he? Notice. Or be observed, for that matter. As Roa leaves he's headed off into the crowd to select some other lovely lady to try his luck with. Roa walks with no particular hurry, through the bowl and towards the barracks, head down, still ticking something off on her fingers. After a few minutes, her hands fall to her sides. Without looking back or giving much of a greeting she says, softly and seemingly to the night air, "I think I broke Tannum." Which perhaps implies that she is aware her trailing detail is not said man.
Ashwin meanders along behind her, lifting his head every so often to survey their surroundings. Her words don't appear to catch him by surprise, although he chews over his reply before it's offered. "Tannum's tough. He'll fill in whatever cracks you made with a drink or two, and it'll set solid by morning. You'll never know he got chipped." And with that philosophical offering, he falls silent once more.
Roa mmms faintly, the tone decidedly unconvinced. But she doesn't argue. Just makes her way, trudging, clearly exhausted. Although instead of turning right to veer into the barracks, she turns left instead. Keeping the cool air around them as she walks over to the southern bowl's wide lake, reflecting what moonlight there is between spring clouds. She finds a spot near the edge of the water, and beside a boulder that's angled so if one sits before it, they're mostly hidden save if you approach from one or two angles. Here, on the ground, she sits.
There's no comment or protest from her guardian as he's denied the warmth of the barracks and the chair that waits there, and Ashwin trails her in silence towards the lake. She sits, and he turns his back on the water and his gaze on the bowl, looking out across it and allowing that silence to draw for on for some time more before he speaks. Before he makes a sound, he drops to a crouch, one finger resting on the ground for balance. His words are quiet, barely breaking the silence. "I never know when you'd like me to take over from one of them, and when you'd rather just have someone you just don't have to speak to."
A glance is tipped in the Lieutenant's direction as he crouches. "Your company's always welcome, Ashwin. That should be painfully obvious by now." The corner of Roa's lips tip up in about as much of a smile as she can manage, and then she asks, simply enough, "We're all alone out here?"
"Sometimes I need a moment to myself," Ashwin murmurs, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Reckon you must, too." Even her tired smile earns her something in return; he flashes her a grin that's so quick to come that he must have been awaiting that cue. "We're alone, yes."
"Well, it's true enough that I need those moments, but with four men trailing after me, I mostly have to cheat and steal them. And if someone is expected to follow me about, yours is the company I'd choose." At his full and sudden grin, her little half-smile grows before slipping away again. Sadly, what ought to come next--her leaning in to steal a clandestine kiss--does not. Instead she turns to stare out at the water, fingers fishing around for a smooth and flat pebble amid those resting near her. Located, it's tossed with a practiced flick of her wrist and it goes skipping along the surface of the lake eight or nine times before vanishing into the depths. That skill the only other thing, besides the tan and an assortment of presents, that Roa brought back from Boll. "A couple of things I feel I should tell you. One you'll like. One you won't. You can pick which you'd rather hear first."
Ashwin turns his head to watch the pebble go skipping away, and when he turns back to her he hasn't quite successfully stowed his smile. For once, he steers clear of the neutral, faint smile still in place as he eases back until he's sitting on the ground, arms looped around his knees as usual. He's facing her, still in a position to see anyone approaching from the bowl. "Tell me what I'll like, first," he instructs her serenely.
The nod is small. A little ghost of a thing as the hand that threw the stone settles back in Roa's lap. "I spoke with her," she murmurs to the lake. There is no distinction as to who 'her' is, but these next words will clear it up, perhaps. "She promises she'll stop."
"Really?" Ashwin's head comes up quickly, that sharp movement signalling the impact of her words, although both movement and tone are moderated as he continues. "Thank you. I appreciate it." With those simple words he leans forward, pulling his knees in so his chin can rest on one of them. "What's the other thing."
"Really," Roa assures. "She meant it." Then she breathes slowly in and slowly out. A sure sign indeed, that she believes the next words from her lips are going to be unpleasant ones for him. They're simple too. "It's starting."
"She understands about needing your own place?" Ashwin's mildly curious, his faint smile yet to fade. But she presses on, and so does he, blinking slowly - the shutters quite visibly start to come down as her words sink in. "You mean your... I thought you were going to talk about it a little longer. Does the Captain know?" He uncurls a little, straightening his back. "Tell me what I should know."
The Telgari shakes her head from side to side, choosing to addess the easier topic first. "She doesn't," Roa says gently. "She can't understand that, really, anymore than you can understand why she'd find it perfectly allowable to look in the first place. But she understands how much you dislike it, and that was enough." That tiny smile appears again, though the reason for it isn't shared. Instead Roa looks down at her hands. "I thought I was too, but then I thought of something else. And, well, it had to start now. Nothing's going to happen for a while. It's on others just now. I only put forth an idea to someone. But if I'm right, it'll turn into something. And no, the Captain doesn't know. It's not my plan to run each little thing by him before I do it." A small hint of annoyance, perhaps, at that last.
"I'm not asking you to run every little thing by him," Ashwin returns mildly, refusing to rise to that rare irritation from her. "I'm not sure he'd agree with any of what you do. But he's got men on you who're to put themselves between you and danger."
"In this instance, that's not going to be necessary," Roa says with a quirk of a smile. "This shouldn't get connected with me, and it shouldn't cause any tension here directly. Well, any *more* tension, I suppose I should say." There's a brief pause. "I heard the Captain caught another one of those men skulking around. In the Infirmary, no less."
"I'm sure your detail will be pleased to hear it," Ashwin observes, equally mildly. He inclines his head, confirming what she heard. "That he did, yes." No more for a few moments, then, with a hint more animation: "Are you going to tell me what you've done?"
"No," Roa says, and she turns her head to watch Ashwin. The way he's seated and bent, chin on his knee. It's nearly as adorable as when he blushes and a hand reaches out to brush lightly over his knuckles where they loop around his legs. "But I'll give you a hint. You'll have to work it from there."
He reacts immediately, lifting his hand to try and catch at her fingers as they pass his own. "A hint." He's not so pleased with that. "You tell me something you know I won't like, and then you won't tell me enough that I can do anything about it." So many words in her presence, these days. "Give me my hint, then."
Her finger are easy to catch, and they stay, warm, soft, reeking of redwort, caught in his. "That's right," she agrees mildly. "You're going to have to piece things together on your own, if you really want to anticipate my or anyone else's getting hurt. You're going to have to start guessing what comes next. Might as well start now when it won't do any damage if you guess wrong. Here's your hint." She looks at him steadily before she gives this single word, "Nabol."
His fingers wrap around hers, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. It stills when she offers him that one word, his eyes snapping up from their inspection of her hand to her face. "Threadfall," he returns, offering just one word of his own.
A tiny nod, barely perceptible. But all Roa asks is, "What about it?" Her fingers curl gently around his, dark blue eyes settled on his face. Watching. Waiting.
"A wing went up to meet it without the Weyrleader's permission," Ashwin replies, gentle stroking of her hand resuming once more. "I had men from Nabol, they have family there. Tannum's Nabolese. What are you going to do? Send a wing up again?"
This time, she gives nothing away. No nod. No shake. Roa's gaze steady on his face. "Think on it," she says quietly. "And tell me when you've figured it out." Her hand lifts, holding Ashwin's, so she can softly kiss his knuckles.
"I don't want to play games with this, Roa." For once he's not distracted by a kiss of hers, eyes still on her face. "Will you find enough riders to do it again? I saw how the weyr welcomed them back, but the Weyrleader confined them."
"You don't want to. You're going to have you." His hand is slowly turned over so Roa's thumbs can press down into his palm. It's big enough compared to hers that they both fit in the middle and rub. "Answer your own question. Do you think riders from The Reaches will go against orders again?"
"Why? What do you gain from making me do this?" Ashwin's certainly not happy, but his displeasure remains mild for now. "I have no idea if Reaches riders will do it, it's a question for each man to answer alone. Some might, some won't."
"You gain the ability to do it again. In a situation where the answers are being hidden by more than me and some game by the lake." Her thumbs continue to rub, perhaps a soothing motion for Roa more than for him. "Some will, some won't. You think those who will are enough in number to do it?"
Ashwin grimaces, looking away for a moment - he is close to responding in irritation, reining himself in. "How many fly with a wing? There was a wing's worth last time. There might be again. Some of them might go back, and some more might join in because they want to be heroes. What are you trying to do? Prove to the Weyrleader that he has no authority?"
Roa's eyes close and she cannot help a small shake of her head. "Think, Ash. Look to the sides. Not just directly ahead. Do you really believe..." but here she stops, and goes a different route. "Tell me what you know about how dragons talk to one another. And their thoughts on privacy."
He softens slightly as she speaks his name, eyes dropping to where their hands are joined. "Tialith's given me an introduction to their thoughts on privacy," he points out, mild once more. "If she's an example, then they don't understand the need. I have no idea how they talk to each other. Like we do, I suppose?"
"Like we do," Roa agrees with him, "with less regard to privacy. And," here is a freebie, "they can speak over distances. Send messgaes to one another from opposite sides of the Weyr or farther if needed. There are around thirty dragons and their riders in a wing. Could thirty dragons keep a secret?"
Ashwin promptly shakes his head in response to that. "No. Thirty men can't, and sounds like dragons don't try as hard as that." He pauses, caught by a thought. "Maybe if a queen told them to? Would that work?" He tugs on her hand, lifting her fingers to his lips for a moment, looking past her to the bowl as he kisses them.
"Good," Roa says gently. "Maybe. That would depend on the queen, but let's go backwards. Tell me again what happened over Nabol before." Her fingers, once free of his kiss, linger to cup his cheek.
"Over Nabol?" Ashwin closes his eyes for a moment, turning his head into her touch. "Can't you just explain this to me? I don't need to learn how to do this." He exhales slowly, but obliges with a response. "A wing went up against the Weyrleader's orders. I assume they did it because they thought it was their duty, or because they wanted to cast him in a bad light."
Roa's hand stays as Ashwin turns into it. "I'm not going to tell you, but we can stop talking about it if you like." Her thumb brushes lightly against his chin. "Find some other way to pass the time." There's that smile, curling half of her mouth upwards. Making her eyes twinkle in the darkness.
"I can't believe I'm saying this." Ashwin's mutter is wry, and he returns her smile, but he lifts his head away from her touch to shake it. "No, I want to hear this. So they wanted to make him look bad, or they thought it was their duty. Keep talking."
"Probably both," Roa agrees, but her smile only broadens. Then she asks again, "Can thirty dragons keep a secret?"
"No." Ashwin's incapable of sounding sulky, but he's not pleased at being required to step through his lessons like a child reciting for a harper. "Thirty dragons can't keep a secret."
Another little nod. "What happened," Roa asks, "When the riders returned from Nabol?" Her hands settle again in her lap and she leans back a little.
"They got reamed by the Weyrleader in the middle of the bowl, and confined to their weyrs," Ashwin replies. He's getting the hang of this, though - for he's a little more forthcoming, obediently casting his mind sideways as well. "And some people thought they were heroes, and everybody talked about it. Those who don't support the Weyrleaders talked a lot."
More nodding. "What did folks think about the punishment given out? What did you think?" Her hands, in her lap, twine lightly together.
"I didn't think about it a whole lot," Ashwin replies, although he's visibly thinking about it now. "He had to do something. I suppose I thought it was a fair enough punishment. You've got to have discipline, whatever your riders think of what you say."
"Fair enough," Roa repeats Ashwin's words. "Why just fair enough?"
"What do you mean?" Ashwin frowns, unlooping his arms so he can bring them up to scrub at his face. "He had to do something. Discipline. He could have come down harder, but they were looking too popular for that. Captain would have applied the same rule to something similar."
"All right," say the little weyrwoman. "So then. Tell me what you know about J'cor." Her hands unclasp and she leans back, supporting herself on her elbows, head tipped to the side. "What do folks say about him, if you haven't given it much thought yourself."
"J'cor." Ashwin's voice is muffled, face still buried in his hands. "I changed my mind, can we just fool around?" Despite his request, though, he presses on. "He's your Weyrleader. They say he led a wing at Igen, and that he knows what he's doing. That's not why they don't like him. They say he doesn't know Reaches, had no right to be here."
"Good, Ash." One foot extends to rest in his lap. "we can stop any time you like. But I'm not telling you anything more than you can determine for yourself. Here's what I've heard about J'cor and what I've found from speaking with him. He seems forthright. He smokes a pipe. He was very interested in stregthening the wings, proving himself by success in fall. Worked with G'thon on some meeting with other Weyrleaders. His first order, when no tithes came, after he became Weyrleader at Reaches was to keep the wings from flying fall over Nabol." Ashwin may not notice, but there was one mistake he made while speaking. A mistake Roa does not correct.
"Good, then." Ashwin exhales slowly, and lifts his head, pale in the darkness. "Why do I have to do this? I'm not in one of your classes, I don't want to be. I want to know what I need to do to..." He breaks off, shaking his head. "You do realise that my orders are to keep the Weyrleader and his Weyrwoman just where they are? What do you want me to do, if my Captain tells me to do just that?"
Shoulders lift and shoulders fall. "Then do just that," Roa offers easily enough. "Do whatever your Captain tells you. Doing otherwise was your idea, not mine. Besides," her head tips to the side. "It's not so much looking like I have worry you'll suss me out, is it."
And just like that, the shutters come down. "It's not much looking like that," Ashwin agrees, wooden. "Quite safe." With a stretch, he comes to his feet, dusting himself off, his eyes already on the bowl once more.
Roa's eyebrows arch upwards in quiet surprise as all of the sudden the game ends. And they're not kissing. And Ashwin is decidedly unhappy. She stares down at her knees, not rising for a few moments, until her head jerks up suddenly. "That isn't what I meant," she murmurs, pushing to her own feet. "Ash. Turn around."
What she doesn't see is the way his eyes close for a moment, jaw squaring. By the time he turns obediently to face her, he's neutral once more, and almost conversational when he speaks. "Sometimes, I think I'd like it if we could do this the normal way," he observes.
"But we can't," is Roa's quiet reply. "Listen to me. That isn't what I meant. It's not...if you weren't spending half your time just thinking about how you don't want to be trying..." she tsks softly, looking away and to the ground. "You can't tell me a man who has to watch over a dozen men at a time, runs training sequences, composes intricate training routines of his own, organizes Faranth knows how many schedules a day...can't do this. You can. And if you want to know what's going on, you'll need to. That's how important it is."
"I didn't mean this, I meant us." Ashwin's facing her, but he's looking past her, eyes fixed on some far point as he speaks thoughtfully. "I can't walk away, I have to stay where you are. I should take myself off your detail, and do this differently." He reels his gaze back in so he can watch her, raising one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm tired. I'm not as clever as you think I am. I don't understand."
"Ah." And her gaze drops, shoulders slumping a little as well. "Just now, I'm somewhat liking the fact you can't walk away. Saves me the energy of having to run after you. Which is, anyhow, somewhat undignified." Roa glances up again, her smile there, but awfully weak. "You are as clever as I think you are. You just don't want to put it to the test. I know you don't understand, but you could. It's just going to take some practice thinking about things in ways you haven't before. You get sore, don't you, when you train in a new way? Try out something unfamiliar? Stretching new muscles. Well, it's the same thing."
"Undignified. As opposed to being forced to stand around and wait on you?" Ashwin's own smile is faint too, and rueful, but it's back. "Fine, I'll stretch the muscles in my head if it's what you want me to do. Have you started anything so urgent that it can't wait until morning, though?"
The Telgari shakes her head. "Nothing so urgent," she says. But then her brows arch up and her eyes twinkle. "Careful, there, Ash. You're starting to sound mighty untraditional, just now..." And the smile grows.
Ashwin's lips quirk for a moment, and he dismisses that line of conversation with a quick shake of his head. "Don't start, you hear me?" How's that for an untraditional form of address from guard to weyrwoman? One hand comes up to beckon her closer. "Come here, let me kiss you. Then I'm taking you back to the barracks. You've had a long day."
She steps foward, arms coming around his waist as Roa gets close enough. "Long day," she agrees. "And I need to be up early tomorrow to look in on that little blue." She has to tip her head back, when they're this close, to look up at his face. "You're a very smart man," she murmurs, rising up on her toes. "Don't let anybody make you think different. Certainly not me."
He wraps his arms around her, looking down with that faint hint of a smile. "I prefer using my hands, when it comes to getting something done," he replies. "Safer than changing minds that can change back without any sign of it that you'll see to warn you." On the verge of tipping back into debate once more, he suddenly shakes his head. "Not tonight." Tonight, instead, he kisses her.
Roa listens as he begins, but her only response, as he bends forward is "Good. I like it when you use your hands." But then he's kissing her and she seems more than willing to kiss back. Willing enough that, if she has her way, when they begin walking, it won't so much be in the direction of the dragon barracks.