Bringing Back The Boys
Location: Various points at High Reaches Weyr and Exile Island
Time: 2am on Day 10, Month 9, Turn 2 HRW/5pm on Day 9, Month 9, Turn 2 Island Time
Players: Ashwin, J'lor, Roa, Jensen, Lorna, Aida, Riann (NPC), Tialith
Scene: A rescue in four parts.
Late afternoon is merging into early evening, and just now, Ashwin has this part of the beach to himself. He's visible just near the treeline, working on a boat that's been overturned, sanding the bottom in slow, circular movements. He's a different man, now; his hair is short, bleached paler still by the sun, his skin is tanned, his feet are bare. Shirt sleeves and trousers rolled up, he's one of the locals now - or looks it.
Dinner is getting prepared and J'lor has, for once, been one of the few who has drawn a free hour rather than a chore. But he is finding himself in need of distraction so the long, lean bluerider is meandering from encampment to beach and over towards the tanned and bleach-blonde ex-guard. "Evening," he offers in his warm, rolling tones. "Could I help?"
It is far, far further down the beach that the shape of a dragon, a distant spec, wings in and lands for a short moment. The figure, too far to be seen, that scrambles down is shaking, boots removed and tied to riding straps, sweater and jacket pulled off and stuffed there as well. Where is he, Tia. Can you find him? The dirt-darkened gold lifts her head slowly, her gaze sweeping the area. He is there. A quick image of another piece of beach, seen through different eyes, looking down at different hands. They're working on...a boat. That way. Her head turns towards the other end of the beach. Roa nods once. Go to the rendezvous point. Don't be seen. Don't let anyone but me or him or Jen come close. I wait there. Be careful. The spec wings away leaving a tiny shadow that begins making its way down the beach. It will be some twenty minutes before the dot gets close enough to be identified.
Ashwin frowns for a moment, blinking, and glancing down at his hands as though there's something new to be seen in them. He pauses, then shakes his head as though to clear it, pressing on with his work. He's at it when J'lor arrives, and he doesn't look up in response to the greeting. "Pile of sand paper down by the stern, under that rock," he replies, continuing in silence after that.
"So there is," J'lor murmurs as he bends down and pulls a piece free with a rough scrabbling sound. He takes a place besides Ashwin and sets the sandpaper to an area the younger man has yet to cover. There is a moment where the bluerider simply studies the other man's motions, before he begins to mimic them. "Lorna tells me...you believe you and Jensen will be leaving soon?" The words are dropped lightly.
Further down, small bare feet are making their way, arms swinging by her sides. Slow down, she tells herself, slow down. But Roa is walking faster.
Silence, bar the scratching of the sandpaper and the sound of the water. In time, Ashwin breaks it. "Reckon we /might/ be," he corrects the bluerider. "She says we are." A beat, and illumination. "Roa. She reckons. For all I know, she's optimistic." Another few circles, but his movements are slowing. "If she does, I want to take Lorna. This isn't the place for her to grow up."
"So she also told me," J'lor says and the smirk on his lips is a bit forced. His own hand works a bit more quickly over the boat. "You...how did she put it...'don't like the look of the men here'. She's growing up-" but the bluerider quiets suddenly. "She won't go," he says instead. "And she can't just be dropped in the center of it. She's no mainland girl, to sit and wait to become a bride. You'd crush her, if you expected that."
Slow down. Slow down. Slowdownslowdownslowdown...but she's jogging. A dot, in the distance, gradually becoming larger.
"You think if she stays here, they're not eventually going to choose someone for her?" Ashwin's tone is level, neutral, his movements even. "I don't want to take her home to marry. I'll take her to the weyr. Take responsibility for her. We've..." He shrugs briefly, work not breaking. "She's a good girl, and she needs someone looking out for her, now."
There is a slow nod of agreement from the bluerider as he works. "She does need that," he says quietly. "And here, the women choose for themselves. Is that such a foreign concept to you, Ashwin?" J'lor's eyes dart up, towards the ex-guard's face, and then back down to his own hands.
They're no longer specks, and from the angle she's coming from all she can see is that the figure working on the boat is tall and lean and has pale hair. There is, maybe, someone besides him? Roa can't tell. Can't care. She's running.
"The women choose for themselves for now," Ashwin disagrees, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. "You're not having children at any great rate. And now, you've got someone making decisions who didn't used to. Would you stake your life on her future choice?" He's absorbed in his work, but he lifts his head after a moment to rub at his forehead with one arm, clearing sweat and sawdust. His gaze is caught by the figure running towards them, and he frowns, squinting to try and identify it. There aren't many so slight, on the island.
"That's not his interest," J'lor responds with careful cool, "and Nera would never stand for it." This much the bluerider still believes of her. "We're different here. It's different. Here." J'lor might add more, but Ashwin seems to be distracted. His body blocks J'lor’s view of the rest of the beach so he cannot quite see what has him peering. He does not yet peep around.
Roa's sprinting, the words that still echo in her head slowdownslowdown...only coming faster as arms swing and legs pump. She draws in a sharp breath, lifting her hands so she can cup them around her mouth. "ASH!" She can see his face now. Not well, but well enough to know for certain he is who she thought.
“Well, she says she won't be coming, so I hope you're..." Ashwin breaks off, stock still, mouth open in preparation for another word that doesn't come. He's frozen in place for several moments, watching the woman running towards them. Then he drops his piece of sandpaper, moving slowly as he steps away from the boat. He manages four steps towards her, before he's rooted to the spot once more, simply watching her approach.
J'lor might be readying a reply, except that his companion stops so short. As Ashwin moves, J'lor finally notices someone coming closer. Someone unknown. And he is frowning even as that name is called, even as the figure does not gain much more height as it comes closer. He bends down, suddenly, to retrieve the dropped sandpaper.
She should stop. She has to stop. She can't go running up to him like...like...like she is. Because Roa's feet keep pounding and when she gets close enough she's simply jumping, arms reaching up to curl around his neck, just trusting that he'll see to the rest.
Their bodies smack together, and J'lor is forgotten entirely. Skin hot from the sun, smelling of sweat and sawdust, Ashwin wraps his arms around her, lifting her clean off her feet with a squeeze that'll empty her lungs of air. He ducks his head, wordless as he kisses her - fierce, determined, desperate.
He is a spectator to this reunion, silent, expressive face blank as he stands up, sandpaper tucked in his fist. He can only stare. He has not seen her in nearly twelve turns, and with the way Ashwin holds her, he cannot see her now. But, J'lor is unhappy to discover, his feet work no better than the ex-guard's.
There is a faint noise from Roa as she’s squeezed and nearly squashed. Her fingers curl against his shoulders, the back of his neck, his hair, those hands wild and restless as ever. She meets his kisses with her own, and they are no more contained. Her feet dangle in the air, their bottoms covered in sand.
Eventually, of course, Ashwin needs to breathe. She's released, but only just - he sets her down on her feet, arms still around her, drawing a heaving breath. Pale blue eyes are fixed on her face, and he's silent, mouth moving as he visibly gropes for words. "Roa." In the end, he manages no more than her name, before she's pulled in against him once more, his mouth put to a more accustomed use.
It's the name, really, that snaps J'lor out of his daze. Roa. He stares now at the little figure that does, even in profile, have so much of Ana in her features. And then dark eyes move to Ashwin, regarding this man with new eyes. There is the smallest of fleeting smiles, but the bluerider cannot hold onto it.
The running and the kissing have both left the little goldrider gasping for breath, though her hands won't relinquish their resting spots, curled tightly into the rolled sleeves of Ashwin's shirt. "You're all right?" but that's all she manages before there's more kissing. Her eyes close and again Roa returns his need with her own.
"I'm fine, we're fine," Ashwin murmurs, barely willing to give up even the inch of contact required to utter those assurances. His arms curl more tightly around her, pulling her in against his chest then, so he can tuck her under his chin and squeeze once more - he's restless, though, tilting his head sideways, so he can watch her face, even while he keeps her in against him so tight. "You? You're safe? What's happening?" Already back to business, for all he can't let go of her.
J'lor leans forward a little bit, resting his weight on his arms as he watches this. He still can't truly see her. Can only see half of her, and as it seems as if neither of them are aware he's present...the bluerider loudly clears his throat once.
The goldrider's eyes flick to the side at that sudden sound, and she freezes. Ashwin will be able to feel the quiet tension she always carries tighten one hundred fold. Her gaze is drawn sharply away and she squirms, turning as much as she can, trying to shift the both of them so Ashwin can serve as some sort of shield between Roa and her f-...between Roa and him. Her head is bowed down and as she steals a glance up, there's something new in her expression. Panic. "It's over," she manages. "There was a trial. It's over. You and Jensen were cleared. In front of everybody."
"Ssshh." Ashwin's response is quiet, his arms tightening around her once more, and he allows her to shift so that he serves as a barrier between the bluerider and his daughter. He half turns his head, as though he will look over at J'lor, but the movement is aborted - he cannot, or will not drag his gaze from the woman in his arms for long. "What now, then?" The words are a murmur. "I can fetch them? You stay here, you'll want to talk."
The bluerider in question is, in some ways, a patient man. He only stays where he is. Silent. Watching. There is a faint scratching sound as the sandpaper gets squeezed in his fist.
"No!" The word is short, sharp, the panic in Roa's expression seeping out into the single syllable. Her fingers squeeze Ashwin's shirt more tightly. "You get them and anything else you'll need. I have to...there was a man sent here with the others. Derek. Is he still alive? Where can I find him?"
For a moment, Ashwin is still, processing this new development. He doesn't turn back towards J'lor this time, though, head ducked to address Roa. "He's here. You don't need to go near him. Just stay here, I'll get the Captain and Riann. I know where he is. I'll be quick." His arms finally begin to loosen from around her, in preparation to doing just that.
J'lor stiffens a bit as his daughter's words float over to him. He swallows sharply, brows drawing down hard as she asks for...of all people...there is more scratching. Sandpaper was never meant to be treated so.
A small shake of Roa's head before it lowers so her forehead can press against Ashwin's chest. "Please, Ash. I need to speak to Derek. I gave my word. And we need to go as quickly as possible. No time for anything else. Please. Don't."
Ashwin brings up one hand to cradle her head for a moment as she leans in to him, and now his head does turn, a concerned glance going back towards J'lor. "Then don't tell him who you are," he murmurs, reluctance in every line of his body, dragging his tone. "I'll come with you, then. J'lor, can you..." He's aware that he's complicit in causing the bluerider pain, and his expression is dropping back to the worst of its neutrality as he speaks. "The Captain, and Riann. I need to find Lorna."
"I..." There is something wry and tight in J'lor's expression and he swallows sharply. "I'll get them." He takes a few steps back from the boat, but cannot help a soft and warm, "Welcome, Roa." And then he's walking backwards, turning, heading towards the encampment and the hut.
Roa flinches, visibly, as she hears her name. As J'lor speaks it. "Fine," she whispers to Ashwin. "Fine. Come. Show me where he is." She's not quite moving yet. She won't, until the bluerider has vanished into the treeline.
Ashwin waits in silence as well, running his hands slowly down Roa's arms, his head turned to watch J'lor's retreat. When the bluerider is gone, he speaks. "Roa, he's... This is your chance to say something. Say it. He's a good man." So many words at once, for Ashwin, and not a one phrased noncommittally.
"Nothing to say, Ash." Roa has squeezed her eyes shut, head shaking against his shirt. "Nothing." She draws in a slow breath, lifts her head, and peers up at the Lieutenant. "Ready?"
Click here to follow Roa and Ashwin.
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Currently sequestered away in the little hut intended for his, Riann's and Ashwin's housing, Jensen is occupying himself with a relaxing early evening activity. Someone, it would seem, taught him how to weave baskets. So weave he does, with his little collection of grass stalks and quite the nice half-circle already completed and set in his lap. Riann, in her very simplistic crib, is either sleeping or extremely quiet.
There's a knock on the door. Three short clean raps and then, barely a beat after, "Jensen?" The voice is low, rolling, familiar, perhaps. Outside, J'lor is standing stiffly, one hand curled into a first by his side, the other hand raised to knock yet again.
Some sort of 'I'll be right there' noise happens. It isn't quite words. A couple of moments only are needed to remove unfinished basket so he can get up, and then Jensen's answering the door. His expression? One of calm eh-ness. After all, he's seen the man before. "J'lor."
"It's time to go," the bluerider offer simply after the door opens and his name is spoken. "Gather up whatever you need. There is, I expect, some urgency, so if you could so do...ah...quickly..." J'lor seems a bit off, perhaps. That clenched fist for one, and the way his eyes keep wanting to focus over Jensen's shoulder, rather than on Jensen's face.
Jensen's eyebrows tilt downwards. Uh. "Time t'go? Time t'go where?" Pause. "You mean time t'/go/?" As in... /go/?"
"As in -go-, Jensen." A tiny smile that fades as soon as it starts lifts J'lor's mouth. "Someone's come for you. Do you need help packing?" Now his peering has more of an intent. The bluerider is trying to see inside the hut and assess.
A moment is taken in which Jen sort of lets that sink in. Go, go. He gives J'lor a Look, hesitates, then turns rather abruptly. It's now, when things are becoming so rushed, that he becomes so calm. "Who's come for us?" he wants to know, as he bends to pull a large something out from underneath his bed. Riann makes a small noise. Without even looking at the bluerider, he asks, "Could you check on her please?"
The bluerider clears his throat once, and then again, before he answers a bit elusively. "The one who dropped you off." J'lor moves into the hut and shuts the door behind him. He bends over the crib, peering down at the infant there. "Can't say you're what I would have expected from R'vain," he murmurs softly to the baby. "Much prettier." He reaches down for Riann only to notice that his fist is clenched. J'lor opens it to find a crushed piece of sandpaper and some small abrasions where it's rubbed off the skin. The crumpled thing is dropped to the ground so he can scoop up Riann, settling her head against his shoulder, gently rubbing her back. "Hello there, tiny thing."
"Roa?" That causes pause, Jensen straightening from untying the bundle he dragged free to stare off into space. Then, after fully absorbing what that might mean, he adds, "So hard t'say her name? Though I reckon you do have t'keep that whole cryptic thing goin' for you. Met R'vain at the Fall over Nabol?" he asks conversationally. His tone of voice is of course completely at odds with the fact that he's currently going through a whole heap of sharp weapons.
"I've met R'vain before. Long before. Over Nabol, Vellath and Ruvoth had a bit of a chat." J'lor paces slowly up and down, the motion intended to keep the quiet baby content. "A bit hard to say her name just now, yes. Though Ashwin managed it easily enough." The last is perhaps just the littlest bit bitter. He moves his head in one of those little chinjerks both he and his daughter are so inclined to use. This one is towards the bag Jensen's drawn out. "Pack, man. Hurry. She can't stay missing for very long without the dragons noticing. Or those here realizing."
"Ah. I see," is Jensen's slow reply. He's looking through said sharp things, carefully picking some up and setting them off to the side. Three he keeps, and affixes to his belt. "Ashwin... Yeah, well. We're pretty close, the three of us. Can't let a little comfortableness get under your skin." And though it's almost a dismissal, there's something like a mark to his voice. Consider just another item added to Jen's List o'Things. "Ain't packin'. Whatever clothes'n things I leave here I expect you t'use for your people. There's some o'Riann's baby things, that medicine..." He straightens again, hands on his hips while he looks down at the array of weapons spread out on the bed. "Derek doesn't take much of a likin' t'these bein' here. He doesn't want your people armed." A pointed look at the bluerider. "Can't imagine why. I don't expect any o'yours have any trainin' under their belts, but you keep these. Just in case. And keep 'em hid." And, done it would seem with 'packing', he moves over and reaches out for his surrogate daughter. "Thanks for calmin' 'er down."
The rider listens silently as Jensen speaks, only nodding once at the offerings. "I suppose we could make use of such things, here. Thank you." Riann is shifted and then gently passed over to the Captain. "She wasn't too riled to begin with," J'lor offers softly. "Take something warm for her. For between. And it's fall there, now. Take something warm for yourself."
"Yeah. Well." And, taking the small child and setting her against his own shoulder, Jensen shrugs the opposite and grins somewhat halfheartedly. "For her, that's as riled as it gets." Pause. Oh. All expression flees his face. Between. "Yeah. Good idea." For someone unaccustomed to dragonriding and such things, Between is sort of an alien notion. Still. He wanders over to the crib, crouches for a bag set on the floor beside it. Moments later he has another layer and even a little hooded jacket thing on Riann and his own jacket on and he's crossing to the door. "Alright. Let's do this."
Riann's little outfit is studied and given a curt nod of approval. "Let's," J'lor agrees simply. "I...well. I'm glad to have met you again, Jensen." He falls into step behind the guard, though once outside he'll take the lead to guide Jensen and his little charge to the beach, near where Ashwin often works on the island's boats. One is upturned, the bottom half-sanded. It is here that J'lor will stop. And wait.
Jensen follows, once it's his turn to do so. He has Riann tucked in against him, his arm and one side of his jacket keeping her safely cozied up. She doesn't make a noise, not a sound, simply contents herself with clenching a bit of Jen's shirt in one little fist. When J'lor stops, so does the former captain. He's being quite the nonverbal sort at the moment as well.
Ashwin and Roa are not far behind. They appear coming along one of the paths, the Lieutenant only half a step behind the weyrwoman, one hand resting on the hilt of his knife, fingers curled around it. Ashwin's expression is grim, shoulders squared, although when he lifts his chin to look past Roa to where Jensen and J'lor wait, his free hand comes up in something that's distantly related to a salute.
Roa's own expression is carefully guarded (heh), though it softens as soon as she sees Jensen standing there, little living bundle in tow. J'lor is not spared a glance. Not a single look, but her lips are curling upwards as she approaches closer. "Hey, stranger," she calls once she and Jensen are no more than six feet separate. "Ready?"
Jensen returns that salute as best he can with his arms full of baby. Luckily he isn't carrying anything else. It isn't to Ashwin though that Jen speaks first, it's to Roa. And if seeing her after so long of not is any big deal, he's hiding it well. And let's just say yes, he's hiding it well. "Hey." His mouth quirks briefly, an attempt at returning that smile. It disappears. "They catch her?" The murders. The attacks. No, apparently he isn't /quite/ ready.
This time, at least, J'lor has readied himself for the cold shoulder. He stands straight, shoulders back, and if Roa will not look at him, he will at least allow himself the indulgence of drinking his fill of her. Before she's gone.
Ashwin is uneasy, glancing back over his shoulder as he comes to a halt behind Roa. The clear pathway satisfies him for the time being, and with a brief glance towards J'lor - faintly sympathetic - he turns aside to claim his boots where he discarded them, dropping to the sand to pull them on.
"They, nothing," Roa quips. As if it's nothing. As if they're chatting mundanities. "We caught her. Me and Aida and a bronzerider named D'ven. Tavaly helped too. There was a trial. She was found guilty, her and E'sere. You've been cleared. So. Can we go home now, please?" Not. A single. Glance. "Don't think we need an escort."
And really, after so long of dealing with this, it kinda is like they're chatting. Just shooting the breeze, mmhm. "Ah. Well, suppose I'll have t'get Ashwin here t'help me write up some thank you letters. Ain't that so, Captain?" Jen looks from J'lor to Roa and back. "I got no time for family affairs or I'd think o'somethin' heartfelt and meaningful t'say just now. As it is, J'lor." He lifts his eyebrows. "We aren't done here." And, without missing a beat, he turns again and makes for his companions.
For Ashwin's glance, J'lor offers a small nod. For Roa's last words, there is a barely repressed wince. And then, for Jensen's, a single quirked eyebrow. Cuz they look pretty damn done to him. But he's drawing in a slow breath and his gaze trips back, inevitably, to the little woman exchanging easy banter with Jensen. "Look after yourself," he says. His feet pull him a few steps back, but no more, despite Roa's obvious dismissal.
Ashwin comes to his feet, dusting sand off - and here's something that's changed in their time on the island. His response to the title Jensen tries to attach to him is a simple, level, expressionless, "Sir", but there's a frown there that's far more expressive than the Ashwin who left High Reaches would have allowed himself to direct at his Captain. He glances at J'lor once more, then inclines his head, and turns away to follow Roa back up the beach, one hand still curled around the hilt of his knife. Done, for now.
Captain? That has her glancing back over he shoulder at Ashwin with a small laugh, and then back at Jensen. She lifts her head and jerks her chin further down the beach. "That way. Quickly, please. We're pressing our luck like you wouldn't believe." Not being done here? Well, that's ignored. But Roa does, finally, spare a glance back over her shoulder at the bluerider still standing there. Her message is short and simple, and it waits until their eyes meet. "Thank you." Then she turns and is running, -running-, down the beach and away.
A running Roa and a terse Ashwin. Jensen takes these things in stride. Everything is perfectly normal here, thankyouverymuch, and he'll deal later. He's the last to follow, staying behind to reach over and give J'lor's shoulder a squeeze. The brotherly sort, or at least the friendly sort, and it's quick. Then, like a following person is wont to do, he follows the other two down the beach with Riann still bundled up in his jacket.
They're leaving. J'lor only watches the figures vanishing down the beach for a moment before his eyes widen. And then he's again turning and running back, not to the settlement, but to a certain stream where a certain sunburned girl likes to go and think.
Lorna is there, of course, though her appearance is a return to several sevens ago, the events of the past couple days undoing a lot of the work done to fix her since her father's death. Her expression is a blank one, gently confused, her fingers busy with a large, flat leaf; nothing constructive, it would appear, just turning it in her hands and tearing little sections out of the edge, leaving a jagged border. Her eyes aren't on what she's doing, fixed some ways down the stream. It's been a day since she last saw J'lor, and in that time hasn't sought him out, or Ashwin, or Jensen, or anyone.
Her solitude, her mourning of a sort, is intruded upon as the bluerider appears, loudly and suddenly, foliage cracking and snapping as he passes. "Lorna!" J'lor stops short perhaps six of seven feet from her. "I'm sorry. I don't imagine you wish to...I just thought you would want to know..." a quick pause to catch his breath, "they're leaving. The island. Now."
Lorna jumps -- actually twitches off the rock on which she's seated, skittering and looking up at the sound of J'lor's voice. A small sound -- almost a groan, not quite a greeting -- escapes. J'lor. Dammit. But his words sink in and she stops, derailed, confused. "Who is leaving?" An alien concept, even prepared for it... nobody leaves the island.
He isn't getting any younger, and moments like this, adrenaline ebbing as the running slows, J'lor starts to feel his age. He leans against the tree he is nearest. "Jensen. And Ashwin. If you want to bid them farewell, you haven't much time."
Lorna lurches to her feet, distinctly lacking in grace for once in her life, staggering and then moving through the edge of the stream to its bank. "Jensen. And Ashwin," she repeats, almost stupidly, though now she's looking straight at J'lor. "Who has come for them?" she asks, then.
The bluerider's smile is wry and pained. "Who else?" is the quiet question offered in return. "Roa." A sharp swallow for voicing that name. "They're heading towards her dragon as we speak."
"Why aren't you there?" Lorna asks, almost cruelly by her standards, not bothering now in the moment to couch her sentiments and her questions in gentle tones. "Your daughter, J'lor. How long since you have seen her?" Heading toward the dragon, indeed -- Lorna is poised to run, but she's not running yet. She waits.
"Because," J'lor grits out between clenched teeth, "she doesn't -want- me there." The stream, its cheerfully bubbling waters, has suddenly become something to stare at.
"You're -weak-," Lorna says, softly, calmly. "All your wisdom and your stories, your gentle advice, it's nothing. You can't even face your own daughter." She steps closer. "How long until you see her again? Another decade? And how many things left unsaid?" Her face twists -- perhaps some part of her has figured out that she's not entirely speaking of Roa. "I love you, J'lor," she says, with a forcefulness that is not quite characteristic, "but you're blind -- and what is worse, what is unforgivable, is that you prefer it that way." She hesitates, looking at him and his clenched jaw, the way he's looking at the stream and not her. She has never criticized him this way in her life -- so, of course, she does the only thing she knows to do, and flees in the direction of the beach.
Well, he's not looking at the stream -now-. The bluerider's eyes snap to Lorna as she begins her lecture and at first they can only widen in surprise. Because, all of the sudden, the trundlebug has teeth. And poison. Before he can even gather up his shock enough to begin a reply, she is gone. One hand comes up to rub at his face. Then the other hand joins. But, as Lorna predicted, he stays where he is.
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It's a ways up the beach, where Tialith is, and her passengers have reached her by now. The guards stand and wait while Roa adjusts her queen's straps to bear extra passengers. Ashwin stands by the dragon's head, one hand stretched out to rest familiarly on her nose, the other on the knife hilt at his belt. He's looking up the beach, tense.
Movement is hard to spot at first, pale figure difficult to see in the sun, against the pale sand, as it bursts out of the jungle. Lorna's fast, though, sprinting toward the little group. She doesn't even spare a glance for the gold dragon, much less for the dragon's rider, eyes instead on the two male figures nearby.
The queen, too, is not her usual languid self. She is crouched and tense, muscles standing out in relief as she waits for her passengers to mount and for their departure. Her head keeps obliging low so Ashwin can reach her muzzle. Her eyes whirl quickly and are a combination of light greens and yellows. Roa's anxiety is leaking through. As small fingers work on adjusting the straps a final time, they shake. The little weyrwoman's features are pressed into a tight line. "Everyone load up," she instructs. Her back to the beach, eyes on her hands, she has no idea what's coming.
Jensen is one of those guardly types standing off to one side while Roa works. He'd help if he had the slightest clue how to manage dragon straps, or had any inclination towards being near a dragon. Plus he has his arms full of Riann. He's watching the beach, the trees, the water. The Lorna. ... "What's she doin' here?" he asks anyone. Everyone.
Ashwin is wondering much the same thing. He pauses, eyes narrowing against the sun, and then he identifies the girl Jensen's referring to. Silently, he mouths the sort of thing that's not fit to be spoken out loud around Riann, and begins to move forward to intercept her at a trot. "Mount up, Roa, I'm coming." This is called over his shoulder, despite the fact that he's moving away.
Momentum is a tricky thing -- Lorna keeps running, even when Ashwin breaks away from the group. She goes smacking into him without slowing, an impact to knock the breath from her, but she keeps it, clinging to him now. "Don't." Her voice is too quiet to be heard by the folks near Tialith. "I've messed everything up. I need you here." Everything is slipping too quickly, far too quickly for a girl who's lived on a tiny island all her life. Her face screws up as she pulls back enough to look up at him; too much to express. "-Fuck-," she bursts out with, a word she must have learned from the guard, an attempt at finding a release for her frustration. This one word, perhaps, is audible to the others over the sound of the ocean. Twice in two days, from a girl who's never previously never cursed in her life.
He's doing whatnow? Roa twists her head around to stare as Ashwin is going absolutely, positively, the wrong way. "Ash!" she calls. "There isn't time!...fuck." That last is, at least, said much more softly. Blue eyes round on Jensen. "You. Are getting. On. Now." Only one of her boys can be acting stupidly at a time, please. And then the curse is echoed further down the beach, and Roa's looking that way again. Tialith...well, let’s call it what it is. She's growling.
Jensen watches that little interaction play out, one eyebrow lifted. Huh. Fuck? Up goes the other eyebrow. "Did she just-" Uhoh. Roa's using her dangerous voice. Jen glances over at her, but is still pointing sort of halfheartedly in Lorna and Ashwin's direction. "She just used a dirty word," he tells the goldrider as he wanders over. "Hold her, would ya." Not that there's much time for a negative response, 'cause Riann's getting handed over. "If you could just hand her up when I get... up..." Mounting dragons? Not his strong suit.
Ashwin bears up under the experience of Lorna smacking into him - he's had practice earlier in the day. This collision, however, ends very differently. His hands to to her shoulders to steady her, so he can step back. "Keep words like that out of your mouth," he instructs her firmly, quiet and unhurried. "I need to go, Lorna. It's time I was home again." A pause, and a glance back to where Tialith is, and then he's addressing Lorna once more. "Come, Lorna. Like we talked about."
"You say them!" is Lorna's retort, quick and almost -sullen-. "So don't--" But she's seen Jensen starting to clamber up, and she's moving past the concept of double standards and Ashwin and is now hurrying towards the ex-captain. "Stop! What-- you can't go back." This, then, is the danger of being Lorna and encouraging attachments in the name of fixing people and being fixed herself. When it comes down to is, there's no way to let them back out of her life, once they're in her head. Just, obviously, this is the first time she's ever had to watch someone leave. "Jen, -stop-." She reaches out to him.
And Roa has a baby in her arms. Roa was not meant to do this sort of this. Holding babies. So she stares down at the little red-haired bundle that stares up at her. Roa blinks. Riann blinks. Roa blinks. Riann waves a hand. "Don't, uh...don't tell your da. That we were cursing," she murmurs. "He'll want to be the first to teach you bad words." Then she's shifting the baby's weight to pass her back up, guardwards. And then, in the direction of the errant 'Captain'. "Ash! We -have- to -go-!"
Jensen pauses, with his hands tangled in straps, and twists awkwardly to look down at the little blonde thing on the sand. He isn't so high up, and since he's stopped he sort of dangles there. Sorry, Tialith. "Lorna, what's gotten into you? Aw, damnit." Now how did he get those straps around... no, like that... Ah, there. His landing on the shifting ground below is unsteady. Bump. Sorry, Tialith. "What's all this fuss? We're sorta on a time... thing." And he casts a worried glance Roa-wards, because she's small and rather domineering right now.
Ashwin strides after Lorna, shooting Roa a pained glance as he comes to a halt behind the island girl. One hand comes up, as though to stave off the weyrwoman's wrath for a few moments longer. "Lorna, we have to go. They can't come and find Tialith here. The dragons at home are going to look for her soon, and they can't not find her." One hand comes up to rest on the girl's shoulder. "We haven't got time. I'm sorry."
Fuss? Lorna just eyes him, helplessly, a moment spent meeting his puzzled gaze. But then he's not mounting, which in Lorna's book is a point for her side. Taking strength from this, she draws a breath. "Please, Jensen, haven't we..." But then Ashwin's hand is on her shoulder, and for the first time she actually looks at Roa, where she's standing. She knows she's fighting a losing battle -- no, a lost battle -- and it shows. She swallows, pulling her eyes back down to look up at Ashwin. "You said you probably wouldn't be going, that it likely wouldn't happen. You -said-."
Baby is...not handed off. And nobody is on the dragon. Nobody. Is on. The dragon. They should already be between. What is...and then Roa stills. It's the second time she's heard the name Lorna, but it's the first time it clicks. Slowly, Roa begins following after the others, Riann settled against her shoulder. Tialith moves behind, her head all but draped over her rider's shoulder. There is another low and unhappy rumble. "Lorrie..." Roa swallows sharply. "I said I'd come. I gave my word." And that has ever been a point of great importance to the girl-turned-woman. That word.
"Haven't we huh?" Jensen's eyebrows have lifted. Suddenly the rush just doesn't seem so important. He's watching Lorna when she looks up at Ashwin, his expression one of mild irritation when she says /that/. He levels that look on his... Ashwin. "You makin' promises t'little island girls?" And then, when Roa seems so familiar all of a sudden, Jen seems to have had enough. "Okay," and he holds a hand up, "I wanna know what's goin' on here and I wanna know fast." Pause. "She might spit up, happens from time t'time." And without hesitation he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handkerchief, which he tucks under Riann's head, between her cheek and Roa's shoulder. "There. Now." Expectant would be a good word for what he's doing with his face.
Ashwin is caught short, glancing over at Jensen for a moment, hand on Lorna's shoulder. But old habits die hard, and he does, of course, as ordered. "Told her we might be going, sir," he informs his Captain. "Told her I wasn't sure if it'd happen." There's no sidelong glance for Roa with that admission. Time for debates on that subject later. "I talked to Lorna about coming, sir. She hasn't got family here now, and this place isn't for a girl growing up." Unspoken: Derek's men are here.
Lorrie. The blond-headed girl turns her head around to look at Roa again. She doesn't say anything, to this stranger she only knew a decade ago, just looks at her for a moment. Jensen's demand cuts through the moment of almost recognition and her pale eyes snap to his. "What's going on? You're -leaving- me! Nobody ever leaves, that's the way it works. I -need- him," she points a finger at Ashwin. It's the closest thing she's ever thrown to an all-out temper tantrum, and the emotions are alien to the girl, leaving her confused in their wake. Ashwin's explanation, which likely makes a bit more sense, brings her up short. "I can't leave," she says, softly. "I can't leave him, I can't leave J'l--" But then she stops. She can, of course. Bridges have been burnt, fields have been sewn with salt, etc. etc.
Wait, no one said anything about spit up. Or shoulder things. Roa stares briefly at the little creature she holds that burbles softly and occasionally kicks her legs. And leaks, apparently. From both ends. Why is she still holding the baby? "Oh. No." And it had so seemed that Roa's eyes couldn't widen any more. And yet, they did. "You didn't. Ash. You -didn't-." She hasn't got...lost a brown, Issa had said. A brown. The goldrider swallows sharply. "Right. Come on, then, if you're coming. And if you're not, well, I'm going to be asking Tia to start just scooping people up in a moment. So."
"Aw, jays. Ashwin." Jensen's tone is purely accusatory. What did you go and get her all attached for? He lifts a hand, shoves his fingers into his hair. Hello, haystack. "For... the sake o'gettin' outta here, if she's goin', get her up on that dragon," and he points /up/, "and get her buckled in. And if she ain't, get yourself up there twice as fast. We got no time for this. What she said." And, tilting his head towards Roa, Jensen turns and clambers on up. And reaches down for Riann, and generally goes about buckling himself in.
Ashwin pauses a beat, jaw squaring under his Captain's disapproval, gaze going straight ahead. Even the prospect of their return to High Reaches has him slipping into his Lieutenant's role in anticipation. "Yessir." His reply is quiet, but he squeezes Lorna's shoulder, releases it, and steps towards Tialith. "Now, Lorna. Mount up, or step back." His pale eyes are on the sunburned girl, gaze steady. "I'm sorry." But even as he's sorry, he's backing up towards Tialith as he's been commanded to do, by both Jensen and Roa.
It's agony, no doubt, but one that will likely not settle in until the effects of her decision are already washing over her. As it is, the urgency of the situation has impressed itself on her, and Lorna merely stares for a moment, somewhere past Ashwin's shoulder. But as he moves away, she lifts her head. "No. I'm going." Once decided, she moves quickly. Her bare feet leave the sand for the last time as she steps up on Tialith's foreleg, reaching for the straps to help herself -- she's climbed up on dragonback often enough, though never with such a large creature. She manages, though, settling behind Jensen and the baby, beginning to fumble with the straps somewhat woodenly.
And suddenly, they've gone from none to three, and it is Roa who is the last one standing on the beach. she wraps her hands around the straps and scales lightly up to settle in front of the others, quickly snapping herself into place. She grabs her riding jacket and shoves it backwards. "For Lor...na. It's autumn, there. It's cold. Ash, make sure her straps are on right." The acting Captain is only allowed a moment to do so before Tialith launches herself upwards, into the air, and between.
....................................................................
Landing in the bowl is a silent affair, and Jensen's temporary farewells are quiet as well, the Captain slipping off to see about a place to sleep. Ashwin's shivering as his feet hit the ground, and he steps back to allow the others to dismount, fingers already curling around the hilts of his knives as he looks out into the darkness around them.
The shock of between is one she's felt before, and though you never quite get used to it, the tensing of her frame and the faint gasp is perhaps not quite so pronounced as it might be otherwise. It's the way Lorna stiffens when they emerge from between and the cold lingers that is so telling, the shiver as she pulls Roa's riding jacket around her. She's blank now, the sheer enormity of it all resulting in all but an entire shutdown as she slides down after Ashwin, one hand against Tialith to steady herself as she lands.
Roa swings down last and she, at least, is dressed correctly for the climate, save that her big, fluffy coat has been handed off to Lorna. Once free of passengers, Tialith alights to her ledge and slinks inside and...well, that may come a surprise to Ashwin. That Tialith -has- a ledge. Roa looks over at the shivering guard and then at the glazed over girl. Back and forth. "Your cousin," she says simply. "From Ista. That's where you were hiding. She's lost her family. She's come here to stay with you for a while. We've got to get somewhere warm."
Ashwin nods, giving himself a shake, and abruptly his shivering ceases. "Got that, Lorna?" His question is gentle, one hand again going out to rest on her shoulder. "It's a few hours until dawn, here. I'm going to find you somewhere safe to sleep, and you're going to stay there until I come and get you for breakfast, got it?" He glances across at Roa, pauses as his gaze follows Tialith, then returns his attention to the islander with a blink. "I'm going to stick right by you, I promise. My word on it."
Her shivering might well be from shock just as much as cold. Lorna blinks, looks up at Ashwin. "N-no. What?" Then, something sinking in, she clutches at his arm. "I don't know where it is. Is-Ista. Someone will ask me and I don't know."
Roa studies Lorna for a long moment, and then she says, softly, "Aida." Then a bit louder, "Lorrie. We're going to take you to a friend of mine and Ashwin's. She'll tell you all about Ista. She has spiced tea and her own room. All right?"
"Aida, yes." Aida has her own room? Ashwin registers that with a brief flicker, but his hand tightens on Lorna's shoulder. "You can trust Aida. Nobody's going to ask you anything before I come and get you. I'll come by early, before breakfast, and we'll eat together and work it out." So very many words for Ashwin, and in the wake of them he's silent for a moment, swallowing. "Not alone, Lorna. Like I told you."
"Spiced--" Lorna's not absorbing the right pieces of these statements. Spiced tea. But they're moving her along, swept up in the urgency of leaving the island, and she just nods numbly. "Aida." Pause. "Aida, okay." She doesn't react to Ashwin's last statement, no room for it right now. Her eyes are, instead, roving the darkness and the vastness beyond that is the bowl walls, the spires of High Reaches that are dark shapes against the sky. No reaction, just silent observation, numb acceptance.
"Come on, then," Roa murmurs and she's leading them out of the bowl and into the living cavern. At three in the morning, it's quite empty as she makes her way through the corridors that lead to the residents' rooms and over to a particular door with a particular plaque that has a particular name. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock.
Ashwin follows in silence, one arm around Lorna's shoulders. He's got his head down, jaw squared. Reverting to type, after only five minutes on the ground.
There is knocking. On the door. When she is trying to sleep. What? It takes a long time -- and it is a /long/ time -- of knocking for her to finally stir, but eventually, yes. She does stir, and she's stumbling and more than half asleep when the door is hauled open and she peers out blearily. What? Ruffled, rumpled, and generally barely, barely there.
Lorna, too, is silent. Bare feet, with sand still clinging to them, must be freezing against the bowl floor and the stone as they move inside. She glances over her shoulder as they move through, the enormity of the living cavern something that penetrates the shock, but then they're going down a corridor and there's a door and then -- Aida. Lorna just stares, numbly.
Well, look who's outside the door. A very short weyrwoman looking like she could be a whole lot happier. And behind her a very tanned and bleach-blonde Ashwin with his arm around a similarly colored and sunburnt girl of around sixteen turns who's wrapped up in a riding jacket. "Um. So. You remember how you once said you'd do any favor for me?" This, and a sheepish smile, are Roa's wee-hour greeting to the Headmaster's Assistant.
Behind Roa, Ashwin lifts his head, his free hand coming up to scratch at the stubble along his jaw. His lips twitch for a moment to something that's a ghost of a smile, but that, combined with a quick lift of his chin, is all he's got by way of greeting for Aida. Which means it's just like old times.
Stare. Really, that's what Aida does. First, at Roa, and then she sees Ashwin and so she stares at him. It's a blank look, devoid of any and all comprehension. See Aida. See Aida's brain break right in half and slide out her ears, crawl away from her and back into bed. Du-r. Lorna, she gets stared at in turn, just in case she might feel left out, and then /finally/ the almost-sleeping young woman scrambles back from the door, pulling it wide open so they can come in. "Favor?" Confused, still sleepy, but as agreeable as she can make it. "Yeah, anything? Hi? Am I still asleep?" At least words are coming now.
It seems staring is the order of the evening, because Lorna has no problem staring right back at Aida with uncanny intensity, almost desperate for something to look at that's not an enormous living cavern or a bowl so big it could hold her entire home's population several times over.
"No," comes the soft promise from the diminutive Reachian. "You're awake. They're home. Ashwin's here and Jensen's probably asleep by now. They're here. They, ah, brought someone with them." Roa tips her head towards the girl. The stranger. "This is Lorna. She needs a place to stay. I was thinking maybe here. With you. She, uhm." There's a bit of throat clearing. "She's from the island. Because that's where they've been." Then Roa stands a bit straighter. "Ashwin's cousin, you see. From Ista. Where he's been keeping hidden. She's come to stay with him for now." It is quite clear, however that 'the island' and 'Ista' are not the same place.
Ashwin moves, steering Lorna in via that arm around her shoulders, and giving her a squeeze before she's released. "My cousin," he confirms, deadpan. "I'm going to be back for her before breakfast. Early. In a few hours. Lorna," and he ducks his head, switching his attention. "You stay here. The room catches on fire, you stay here until I come get you. Just a few hours. Try and sleep, will you?" His tone is gentler for the girl, but firm enough. Then he's stepping to Roa's side, and - he has changed while he was gone - crooking Aida a grin that differentiates him from the man who fled this place in the night. "You missed me." It's very nearly a tease for Aida. "We'll do those questions you love in the morning."
"I am absolutely not awake," Aida mumbles, shaking her head as she disagrees. "May not be dreaming, but I am not awake." Her head turns so she can blink at Ashwin again, then she squints, as if really making sure she's seeing him for real. He's talking. And...grinning. What? There's more blinking, and she just shakes her head and looks to Lorna. "I have tea," she says, as if this had something to do with anything. "It'll help you sleep. I'm Aida. Um. There's the bed. I'll get you a nightgown. I think some of my clothes can be made to fit you with...help. Easy." She squints at the girl, then looks back to Roa and Ashwin. "I did," she agrees. "She'll be fine here."
"Cousin," Lorna echoes, in a soft voice, the first words she's spoken since coming inside. Pale eyes find Ashwin's face as he moves away, but she doesn't say anything to forestall him. Her panicked clinging is quite over now, and she straightens a little bit as the man steps to Roa's side. She just nods in response, the gesture enough of a promise for the moment that she will stay put. Aida's a lot faster to react than she, sleep-muddled though the woman is, and Lorna turns to blink at her, slowly.
There is a glance at Ashwin when that smile appears. That tease. Different indeed. But then Aida is speaking, and perhaps a little bit of tension leaves Roa as Aida agrees to play hostess. Certainly her eyes close for a moment and the slow exhalation suggests some strain now gone. "Thank you," she says to Aida, and then her gaze flicks to Lorna. "We'll see you in the morning. Ashwin will come for breakfast. I'll find you for lunch. Rest, much as you can. First nights in a new place are shells." She turns now, to slip out the door and let the two roomies settle in.
Ashwin pauses just a moment longer, pale blue eyes lingering first on Aida, and then on Lorna. It is to the latter that he speaks. "Just a few hours," he promises. Then he's turning to slip out after Roa. And for a moment, as he exits, it might seem as though he's reaching for the weyrwoman's hand.
Time: 2am on Day 10, Month 9, Turn 2 HRW/5pm on Day 9, Month 9, Turn 2 Island Time
Players: Ashwin, J'lor, Roa, Jensen, Lorna, Aida, Riann (NPC), Tialith
Scene: A rescue in four parts.
Late afternoon is merging into early evening, and just now, Ashwin has this part of the beach to himself. He's visible just near the treeline, working on a boat that's been overturned, sanding the bottom in slow, circular movements. He's a different man, now; his hair is short, bleached paler still by the sun, his skin is tanned, his feet are bare. Shirt sleeves and trousers rolled up, he's one of the locals now - or looks it.
Dinner is getting prepared and J'lor has, for once, been one of the few who has drawn a free hour rather than a chore. But he is finding himself in need of distraction so the long, lean bluerider is meandering from encampment to beach and over towards the tanned and bleach-blonde ex-guard. "Evening," he offers in his warm, rolling tones. "Could I help?"
It is far, far further down the beach that the shape of a dragon, a distant spec, wings in and lands for a short moment. The figure, too far to be seen, that scrambles down is shaking, boots removed and tied to riding straps, sweater and jacket pulled off and stuffed there as well. Where is he, Tia. Can you find him? The dirt-darkened gold lifts her head slowly, her gaze sweeping the area. He is there. A quick image of another piece of beach, seen through different eyes, looking down at different hands. They're working on...a boat. That way. Her head turns towards the other end of the beach. Roa nods once. Go to the rendezvous point. Don't be seen. Don't let anyone but me or him or Jen come close. I wait there. Be careful. The spec wings away leaving a tiny shadow that begins making its way down the beach. It will be some twenty minutes before the dot gets close enough to be identified.
Ashwin frowns for a moment, blinking, and glancing down at his hands as though there's something new to be seen in them. He pauses, then shakes his head as though to clear it, pressing on with his work. He's at it when J'lor arrives, and he doesn't look up in response to the greeting. "Pile of sand paper down by the stern, under that rock," he replies, continuing in silence after that.
"So there is," J'lor murmurs as he bends down and pulls a piece free with a rough scrabbling sound. He takes a place besides Ashwin and sets the sandpaper to an area the younger man has yet to cover. There is a moment where the bluerider simply studies the other man's motions, before he begins to mimic them. "Lorna tells me...you believe you and Jensen will be leaving soon?" The words are dropped lightly.
Further down, small bare feet are making their way, arms swinging by her sides. Slow down, she tells herself, slow down. But Roa is walking faster.
Silence, bar the scratching of the sandpaper and the sound of the water. In time, Ashwin breaks it. "Reckon we /might/ be," he corrects the bluerider. "She says we are." A beat, and illumination. "Roa. She reckons. For all I know, she's optimistic." Another few circles, but his movements are slowing. "If she does, I want to take Lorna. This isn't the place for her to grow up."
"So she also told me," J'lor says and the smirk on his lips is a bit forced. His own hand works a bit more quickly over the boat. "You...how did she put it...'don't like the look of the men here'. She's growing up-" but the bluerider quiets suddenly. "She won't go," he says instead. "And she can't just be dropped in the center of it. She's no mainland girl, to sit and wait to become a bride. You'd crush her, if you expected that."
Slow down. Slow down. Slowdownslowdownslowdown...but she's jogging. A dot, in the distance, gradually becoming larger.
"You think if she stays here, they're not eventually going to choose someone for her?" Ashwin's tone is level, neutral, his movements even. "I don't want to take her home to marry. I'll take her to the weyr. Take responsibility for her. We've..." He shrugs briefly, work not breaking. "She's a good girl, and she needs someone looking out for her, now."
There is a slow nod of agreement from the bluerider as he works. "She does need that," he says quietly. "And here, the women choose for themselves. Is that such a foreign concept to you, Ashwin?" J'lor's eyes dart up, towards the ex-guard's face, and then back down to his own hands.
They're no longer specks, and from the angle she's coming from all she can see is that the figure working on the boat is tall and lean and has pale hair. There is, maybe, someone besides him? Roa can't tell. Can't care. She's running.
"The women choose for themselves for now," Ashwin disagrees, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. "You're not having children at any great rate. And now, you've got someone making decisions who didn't used to. Would you stake your life on her future choice?" He's absorbed in his work, but he lifts his head after a moment to rub at his forehead with one arm, clearing sweat and sawdust. His gaze is caught by the figure running towards them, and he frowns, squinting to try and identify it. There aren't many so slight, on the island.
"That's not his interest," J'lor responds with careful cool, "and Nera would never stand for it." This much the bluerider still believes of her. "We're different here. It's different. Here." J'lor might add more, but Ashwin seems to be distracted. His body blocks J'lor’s view of the rest of the beach so he cannot quite see what has him peering. He does not yet peep around.
Roa's sprinting, the words that still echo in her head slowdownslowdown...only coming faster as arms swing and legs pump. She draws in a sharp breath, lifting her hands so she can cup them around her mouth. "ASH!" She can see his face now. Not well, but well enough to know for certain he is who she thought.
“Well, she says she won't be coming, so I hope you're..." Ashwin breaks off, stock still, mouth open in preparation for another word that doesn't come. He's frozen in place for several moments, watching the woman running towards them. Then he drops his piece of sandpaper, moving slowly as he steps away from the boat. He manages four steps towards her, before he's rooted to the spot once more, simply watching her approach.
J'lor might be readying a reply, except that his companion stops so short. As Ashwin moves, J'lor finally notices someone coming closer. Someone unknown. And he is frowning even as that name is called, even as the figure does not gain much more height as it comes closer. He bends down, suddenly, to retrieve the dropped sandpaper.
She should stop. She has to stop. She can't go running up to him like...like...like she is. Because Roa's feet keep pounding and when she gets close enough she's simply jumping, arms reaching up to curl around his neck, just trusting that he'll see to the rest.
Their bodies smack together, and J'lor is forgotten entirely. Skin hot from the sun, smelling of sweat and sawdust, Ashwin wraps his arms around her, lifting her clean off her feet with a squeeze that'll empty her lungs of air. He ducks his head, wordless as he kisses her - fierce, determined, desperate.
He is a spectator to this reunion, silent, expressive face blank as he stands up, sandpaper tucked in his fist. He can only stare. He has not seen her in nearly twelve turns, and with the way Ashwin holds her, he cannot see her now. But, J'lor is unhappy to discover, his feet work no better than the ex-guard's.
There is a faint noise from Roa as she’s squeezed and nearly squashed. Her fingers curl against his shoulders, the back of his neck, his hair, those hands wild and restless as ever. She meets his kisses with her own, and they are no more contained. Her feet dangle in the air, their bottoms covered in sand.
Eventually, of course, Ashwin needs to breathe. She's released, but only just - he sets her down on her feet, arms still around her, drawing a heaving breath. Pale blue eyes are fixed on her face, and he's silent, mouth moving as he visibly gropes for words. "Roa." In the end, he manages no more than her name, before she's pulled in against him once more, his mouth put to a more accustomed use.
It's the name, really, that snaps J'lor out of his daze. Roa. He stares now at the little figure that does, even in profile, have so much of Ana in her features. And then dark eyes move to Ashwin, regarding this man with new eyes. There is the smallest of fleeting smiles, but the bluerider cannot hold onto it.
The running and the kissing have both left the little goldrider gasping for breath, though her hands won't relinquish their resting spots, curled tightly into the rolled sleeves of Ashwin's shirt. "You're all right?" but that's all she manages before there's more kissing. Her eyes close and again Roa returns his need with her own.
"I'm fine, we're fine," Ashwin murmurs, barely willing to give up even the inch of contact required to utter those assurances. His arms curl more tightly around her, pulling her in against his chest then, so he can tuck her under his chin and squeeze once more - he's restless, though, tilting his head sideways, so he can watch her face, even while he keeps her in against him so tight. "You? You're safe? What's happening?" Already back to business, for all he can't let go of her.
J'lor leans forward a little bit, resting his weight on his arms as he watches this. He still can't truly see her. Can only see half of her, and as it seems as if neither of them are aware he's present...the bluerider loudly clears his throat once.
The goldrider's eyes flick to the side at that sudden sound, and she freezes. Ashwin will be able to feel the quiet tension she always carries tighten one hundred fold. Her gaze is drawn sharply away and she squirms, turning as much as she can, trying to shift the both of them so Ashwin can serve as some sort of shield between Roa and her f-...between Roa and him. Her head is bowed down and as she steals a glance up, there's something new in her expression. Panic. "It's over," she manages. "There was a trial. It's over. You and Jensen were cleared. In front of everybody."
"Ssshh." Ashwin's response is quiet, his arms tightening around her once more, and he allows her to shift so that he serves as a barrier between the bluerider and his daughter. He half turns his head, as though he will look over at J'lor, but the movement is aborted - he cannot, or will not drag his gaze from the woman in his arms for long. "What now, then?" The words are a murmur. "I can fetch them? You stay here, you'll want to talk."
The bluerider in question is, in some ways, a patient man. He only stays where he is. Silent. Watching. There is a faint scratching sound as the sandpaper gets squeezed in his fist.
"No!" The word is short, sharp, the panic in Roa's expression seeping out into the single syllable. Her fingers squeeze Ashwin's shirt more tightly. "You get them and anything else you'll need. I have to...there was a man sent here with the others. Derek. Is he still alive? Where can I find him?"
For a moment, Ashwin is still, processing this new development. He doesn't turn back towards J'lor this time, though, head ducked to address Roa. "He's here. You don't need to go near him. Just stay here, I'll get the Captain and Riann. I know where he is. I'll be quick." His arms finally begin to loosen from around her, in preparation to doing just that.
J'lor stiffens a bit as his daughter's words float over to him. He swallows sharply, brows drawing down hard as she asks for...of all people...there is more scratching. Sandpaper was never meant to be treated so.
A small shake of Roa's head before it lowers so her forehead can press against Ashwin's chest. "Please, Ash. I need to speak to Derek. I gave my word. And we need to go as quickly as possible. No time for anything else. Please. Don't."
Ashwin brings up one hand to cradle her head for a moment as she leans in to him, and now his head does turn, a concerned glance going back towards J'lor. "Then don't tell him who you are," he murmurs, reluctance in every line of his body, dragging his tone. "I'll come with you, then. J'lor, can you..." He's aware that he's complicit in causing the bluerider pain, and his expression is dropping back to the worst of its neutrality as he speaks. "The Captain, and Riann. I need to find Lorna."
"I..." There is something wry and tight in J'lor's expression and he swallows sharply. "I'll get them." He takes a few steps back from the boat, but cannot help a soft and warm, "Welcome, Roa." And then he's walking backwards, turning, heading towards the encampment and the hut.
Roa flinches, visibly, as she hears her name. As J'lor speaks it. "Fine," she whispers to Ashwin. "Fine. Come. Show me where he is." She's not quite moving yet. She won't, until the bluerider has vanished into the treeline.
Ashwin waits in silence as well, running his hands slowly down Roa's arms, his head turned to watch J'lor's retreat. When the bluerider is gone, he speaks. "Roa, he's... This is your chance to say something. Say it. He's a good man." So many words at once, for Ashwin, and not a one phrased noncommittally.
"Nothing to say, Ash." Roa has squeezed her eyes shut, head shaking against his shirt. "Nothing." She draws in a slow breath, lifts her head, and peers up at the Lieutenant. "Ready?"
Click here to follow Roa and Ashwin.
..........................................
Currently sequestered away in the little hut intended for his, Riann's and Ashwin's housing, Jensen is occupying himself with a relaxing early evening activity. Someone, it would seem, taught him how to weave baskets. So weave he does, with his little collection of grass stalks and quite the nice half-circle already completed and set in his lap. Riann, in her very simplistic crib, is either sleeping or extremely quiet.
There's a knock on the door. Three short clean raps and then, barely a beat after, "Jensen?" The voice is low, rolling, familiar, perhaps. Outside, J'lor is standing stiffly, one hand curled into a first by his side, the other hand raised to knock yet again.
Some sort of 'I'll be right there' noise happens. It isn't quite words. A couple of moments only are needed to remove unfinished basket so he can get up, and then Jensen's answering the door. His expression? One of calm eh-ness. After all, he's seen the man before. "J'lor."
"It's time to go," the bluerider offer simply after the door opens and his name is spoken. "Gather up whatever you need. There is, I expect, some urgency, so if you could so do...ah...quickly..." J'lor seems a bit off, perhaps. That clenched fist for one, and the way his eyes keep wanting to focus over Jensen's shoulder, rather than on Jensen's face.
Jensen's eyebrows tilt downwards. Uh. "Time t'go? Time t'go where?" Pause. "You mean time t'/go/?" As in... /go/?"
"As in -go-, Jensen." A tiny smile that fades as soon as it starts lifts J'lor's mouth. "Someone's come for you. Do you need help packing?" Now his peering has more of an intent. The bluerider is trying to see inside the hut and assess.
A moment is taken in which Jen sort of lets that sink in. Go, go. He gives J'lor a Look, hesitates, then turns rather abruptly. It's now, when things are becoming so rushed, that he becomes so calm. "Who's come for us?" he wants to know, as he bends to pull a large something out from underneath his bed. Riann makes a small noise. Without even looking at the bluerider, he asks, "Could you check on her please?"
The bluerider clears his throat once, and then again, before he answers a bit elusively. "The one who dropped you off." J'lor moves into the hut and shuts the door behind him. He bends over the crib, peering down at the infant there. "Can't say you're what I would have expected from R'vain," he murmurs softly to the baby. "Much prettier." He reaches down for Riann only to notice that his fist is clenched. J'lor opens it to find a crushed piece of sandpaper and some small abrasions where it's rubbed off the skin. The crumpled thing is dropped to the ground so he can scoop up Riann, settling her head against his shoulder, gently rubbing her back. "Hello there, tiny thing."
"Roa?" That causes pause, Jensen straightening from untying the bundle he dragged free to stare off into space. Then, after fully absorbing what that might mean, he adds, "So hard t'say her name? Though I reckon you do have t'keep that whole cryptic thing goin' for you. Met R'vain at the Fall over Nabol?" he asks conversationally. His tone of voice is of course completely at odds with the fact that he's currently going through a whole heap of sharp weapons.
"I've met R'vain before. Long before. Over Nabol, Vellath and Ruvoth had a bit of a chat." J'lor paces slowly up and down, the motion intended to keep the quiet baby content. "A bit hard to say her name just now, yes. Though Ashwin managed it easily enough." The last is perhaps just the littlest bit bitter. He moves his head in one of those little chinjerks both he and his daughter are so inclined to use. This one is towards the bag Jensen's drawn out. "Pack, man. Hurry. She can't stay missing for very long without the dragons noticing. Or those here realizing."
"Ah. I see," is Jensen's slow reply. He's looking through said sharp things, carefully picking some up and setting them off to the side. Three he keeps, and affixes to his belt. "Ashwin... Yeah, well. We're pretty close, the three of us. Can't let a little comfortableness get under your skin." And though it's almost a dismissal, there's something like a mark to his voice. Consider just another item added to Jen's List o'Things. "Ain't packin'. Whatever clothes'n things I leave here I expect you t'use for your people. There's some o'Riann's baby things, that medicine..." He straightens again, hands on his hips while he looks down at the array of weapons spread out on the bed. "Derek doesn't take much of a likin' t'these bein' here. He doesn't want your people armed." A pointed look at the bluerider. "Can't imagine why. I don't expect any o'yours have any trainin' under their belts, but you keep these. Just in case. And keep 'em hid." And, done it would seem with 'packing', he moves over and reaches out for his surrogate daughter. "Thanks for calmin' 'er down."
The rider listens silently as Jensen speaks, only nodding once at the offerings. "I suppose we could make use of such things, here. Thank you." Riann is shifted and then gently passed over to the Captain. "She wasn't too riled to begin with," J'lor offers softly. "Take something warm for her. For between. And it's fall there, now. Take something warm for yourself."
"Yeah. Well." And, taking the small child and setting her against his own shoulder, Jensen shrugs the opposite and grins somewhat halfheartedly. "For her, that's as riled as it gets." Pause. Oh. All expression flees his face. Between. "Yeah. Good idea." For someone unaccustomed to dragonriding and such things, Between is sort of an alien notion. Still. He wanders over to the crib, crouches for a bag set on the floor beside it. Moments later he has another layer and even a little hooded jacket thing on Riann and his own jacket on and he's crossing to the door. "Alright. Let's do this."
Riann's little outfit is studied and given a curt nod of approval. "Let's," J'lor agrees simply. "I...well. I'm glad to have met you again, Jensen." He falls into step behind the guard, though once outside he'll take the lead to guide Jensen and his little charge to the beach, near where Ashwin often works on the island's boats. One is upturned, the bottom half-sanded. It is here that J'lor will stop. And wait.
Jensen follows, once it's his turn to do so. He has Riann tucked in against him, his arm and one side of his jacket keeping her safely cozied up. She doesn't make a noise, not a sound, simply contents herself with clenching a bit of Jen's shirt in one little fist. When J'lor stops, so does the former captain. He's being quite the nonverbal sort at the moment as well.
Ashwin and Roa are not far behind. They appear coming along one of the paths, the Lieutenant only half a step behind the weyrwoman, one hand resting on the hilt of his knife, fingers curled around it. Ashwin's expression is grim, shoulders squared, although when he lifts his chin to look past Roa to where Jensen and J'lor wait, his free hand comes up in something that's distantly related to a salute.
Roa's own expression is carefully guarded (heh), though it softens as soon as she sees Jensen standing there, little living bundle in tow. J'lor is not spared a glance. Not a single look, but her lips are curling upwards as she approaches closer. "Hey, stranger," she calls once she and Jensen are no more than six feet separate. "Ready?"
Jensen returns that salute as best he can with his arms full of baby. Luckily he isn't carrying anything else. It isn't to Ashwin though that Jen speaks first, it's to Roa. And if seeing her after so long of not is any big deal, he's hiding it well. And let's just say yes, he's hiding it well. "Hey." His mouth quirks briefly, an attempt at returning that smile. It disappears. "They catch her?" The murders. The attacks. No, apparently he isn't /quite/ ready.
This time, at least, J'lor has readied himself for the cold shoulder. He stands straight, shoulders back, and if Roa will not look at him, he will at least allow himself the indulgence of drinking his fill of her. Before she's gone.
Ashwin is uneasy, glancing back over his shoulder as he comes to a halt behind Roa. The clear pathway satisfies him for the time being, and with a brief glance towards J'lor - faintly sympathetic - he turns aside to claim his boots where he discarded them, dropping to the sand to pull them on.
"They, nothing," Roa quips. As if it's nothing. As if they're chatting mundanities. "We caught her. Me and Aida and a bronzerider named D'ven. Tavaly helped too. There was a trial. She was found guilty, her and E'sere. You've been cleared. So. Can we go home now, please?" Not. A single. Glance. "Don't think we need an escort."
And really, after so long of dealing with this, it kinda is like they're chatting. Just shooting the breeze, mmhm. "Ah. Well, suppose I'll have t'get Ashwin here t'help me write up some thank you letters. Ain't that so, Captain?" Jen looks from J'lor to Roa and back. "I got no time for family affairs or I'd think o'somethin' heartfelt and meaningful t'say just now. As it is, J'lor." He lifts his eyebrows. "We aren't done here." And, without missing a beat, he turns again and makes for his companions.
For Ashwin's glance, J'lor offers a small nod. For Roa's last words, there is a barely repressed wince. And then, for Jensen's, a single quirked eyebrow. Cuz they look pretty damn done to him. But he's drawing in a slow breath and his gaze trips back, inevitably, to the little woman exchanging easy banter with Jensen. "Look after yourself," he says. His feet pull him a few steps back, but no more, despite Roa's obvious dismissal.
Ashwin comes to his feet, dusting sand off - and here's something that's changed in their time on the island. His response to the title Jensen tries to attach to him is a simple, level, expressionless, "Sir", but there's a frown there that's far more expressive than the Ashwin who left High Reaches would have allowed himself to direct at his Captain. He glances at J'lor once more, then inclines his head, and turns away to follow Roa back up the beach, one hand still curled around the hilt of his knife. Done, for now.
Captain? That has her glancing back over he shoulder at Ashwin with a small laugh, and then back at Jensen. She lifts her head and jerks her chin further down the beach. "That way. Quickly, please. We're pressing our luck like you wouldn't believe." Not being done here? Well, that's ignored. But Roa does, finally, spare a glance back over her shoulder at the bluerider still standing there. Her message is short and simple, and it waits until their eyes meet. "Thank you." Then she turns and is running, -running-, down the beach and away.
A running Roa and a terse Ashwin. Jensen takes these things in stride. Everything is perfectly normal here, thankyouverymuch, and he'll deal later. He's the last to follow, staying behind to reach over and give J'lor's shoulder a squeeze. The brotherly sort, or at least the friendly sort, and it's quick. Then, like a following person is wont to do, he follows the other two down the beach with Riann still bundled up in his jacket.
They're leaving. J'lor only watches the figures vanishing down the beach for a moment before his eyes widen. And then he's again turning and running back, not to the settlement, but to a certain stream where a certain sunburned girl likes to go and think.
Lorna is there, of course, though her appearance is a return to several sevens ago, the events of the past couple days undoing a lot of the work done to fix her since her father's death. Her expression is a blank one, gently confused, her fingers busy with a large, flat leaf; nothing constructive, it would appear, just turning it in her hands and tearing little sections out of the edge, leaving a jagged border. Her eyes aren't on what she's doing, fixed some ways down the stream. It's been a day since she last saw J'lor, and in that time hasn't sought him out, or Ashwin, or Jensen, or anyone.
Her solitude, her mourning of a sort, is intruded upon as the bluerider appears, loudly and suddenly, foliage cracking and snapping as he passes. "Lorna!" J'lor stops short perhaps six of seven feet from her. "I'm sorry. I don't imagine you wish to...I just thought you would want to know..." a quick pause to catch his breath, "they're leaving. The island. Now."
Lorna jumps -- actually twitches off the rock on which she's seated, skittering and looking up at the sound of J'lor's voice. A small sound -- almost a groan, not quite a greeting -- escapes. J'lor. Dammit. But his words sink in and she stops, derailed, confused. "Who is leaving?" An alien concept, even prepared for it... nobody leaves the island.
He isn't getting any younger, and moments like this, adrenaline ebbing as the running slows, J'lor starts to feel his age. He leans against the tree he is nearest. "Jensen. And Ashwin. If you want to bid them farewell, you haven't much time."
Lorna lurches to her feet, distinctly lacking in grace for once in her life, staggering and then moving through the edge of the stream to its bank. "Jensen. And Ashwin," she repeats, almost stupidly, though now she's looking straight at J'lor. "Who has come for them?" she asks, then.
The bluerider's smile is wry and pained. "Who else?" is the quiet question offered in return. "Roa." A sharp swallow for voicing that name. "They're heading towards her dragon as we speak."
"Why aren't you there?" Lorna asks, almost cruelly by her standards, not bothering now in the moment to couch her sentiments and her questions in gentle tones. "Your daughter, J'lor. How long since you have seen her?" Heading toward the dragon, indeed -- Lorna is poised to run, but she's not running yet. She waits.
"Because," J'lor grits out between clenched teeth, "she doesn't -want- me there." The stream, its cheerfully bubbling waters, has suddenly become something to stare at.
"You're -weak-," Lorna says, softly, calmly. "All your wisdom and your stories, your gentle advice, it's nothing. You can't even face your own daughter." She steps closer. "How long until you see her again? Another decade? And how many things left unsaid?" Her face twists -- perhaps some part of her has figured out that she's not entirely speaking of Roa. "I love you, J'lor," she says, with a forcefulness that is not quite characteristic, "but you're blind -- and what is worse, what is unforgivable, is that you prefer it that way." She hesitates, looking at him and his clenched jaw, the way he's looking at the stream and not her. She has never criticized him this way in her life -- so, of course, she does the only thing she knows to do, and flees in the direction of the beach.
Well, he's not looking at the stream -now-. The bluerider's eyes snap to Lorna as she begins her lecture and at first they can only widen in surprise. Because, all of the sudden, the trundlebug has teeth. And poison. Before he can even gather up his shock enough to begin a reply, she is gone. One hand comes up to rub at his face. Then the other hand joins. But, as Lorna predicted, he stays where he is.
.................................................
It's a ways up the beach, where Tialith is, and her passengers have reached her by now. The guards stand and wait while Roa adjusts her queen's straps to bear extra passengers. Ashwin stands by the dragon's head, one hand stretched out to rest familiarly on her nose, the other on the knife hilt at his belt. He's looking up the beach, tense.
Movement is hard to spot at first, pale figure difficult to see in the sun, against the pale sand, as it bursts out of the jungle. Lorna's fast, though, sprinting toward the little group. She doesn't even spare a glance for the gold dragon, much less for the dragon's rider, eyes instead on the two male figures nearby.
The queen, too, is not her usual languid self. She is crouched and tense, muscles standing out in relief as she waits for her passengers to mount and for their departure. Her head keeps obliging low so Ashwin can reach her muzzle. Her eyes whirl quickly and are a combination of light greens and yellows. Roa's anxiety is leaking through. As small fingers work on adjusting the straps a final time, they shake. The little weyrwoman's features are pressed into a tight line. "Everyone load up," she instructs. Her back to the beach, eyes on her hands, she has no idea what's coming.
Jensen is one of those guardly types standing off to one side while Roa works. He'd help if he had the slightest clue how to manage dragon straps, or had any inclination towards being near a dragon. Plus he has his arms full of Riann. He's watching the beach, the trees, the water. The Lorna. ... "What's she doin' here?" he asks anyone. Everyone.
Ashwin is wondering much the same thing. He pauses, eyes narrowing against the sun, and then he identifies the girl Jensen's referring to. Silently, he mouths the sort of thing that's not fit to be spoken out loud around Riann, and begins to move forward to intercept her at a trot. "Mount up, Roa, I'm coming." This is called over his shoulder, despite the fact that he's moving away.
Momentum is a tricky thing -- Lorna keeps running, even when Ashwin breaks away from the group. She goes smacking into him without slowing, an impact to knock the breath from her, but she keeps it, clinging to him now. "Don't." Her voice is too quiet to be heard by the folks near Tialith. "I've messed everything up. I need you here." Everything is slipping too quickly, far too quickly for a girl who's lived on a tiny island all her life. Her face screws up as she pulls back enough to look up at him; too much to express. "-Fuck-," she bursts out with, a word she must have learned from the guard, an attempt at finding a release for her frustration. This one word, perhaps, is audible to the others over the sound of the ocean. Twice in two days, from a girl who's never previously never cursed in her life.
He's doing whatnow? Roa twists her head around to stare as Ashwin is going absolutely, positively, the wrong way. "Ash!" she calls. "There isn't time!...fuck." That last is, at least, said much more softly. Blue eyes round on Jensen. "You. Are getting. On. Now." Only one of her boys can be acting stupidly at a time, please. And then the curse is echoed further down the beach, and Roa's looking that way again. Tialith...well, let’s call it what it is. She's growling.
Jensen watches that little interaction play out, one eyebrow lifted. Huh. Fuck? Up goes the other eyebrow. "Did she just-" Uhoh. Roa's using her dangerous voice. Jen glances over at her, but is still pointing sort of halfheartedly in Lorna and Ashwin's direction. "She just used a dirty word," he tells the goldrider as he wanders over. "Hold her, would ya." Not that there's much time for a negative response, 'cause Riann's getting handed over. "If you could just hand her up when I get... up..." Mounting dragons? Not his strong suit.
Ashwin bears up under the experience of Lorna smacking into him - he's had practice earlier in the day. This collision, however, ends very differently. His hands to to her shoulders to steady her, so he can step back. "Keep words like that out of your mouth," he instructs her firmly, quiet and unhurried. "I need to go, Lorna. It's time I was home again." A pause, and a glance back to where Tialith is, and then he's addressing Lorna once more. "Come, Lorna. Like we talked about."
"You say them!" is Lorna's retort, quick and almost -sullen-. "So don't--" But she's seen Jensen starting to clamber up, and she's moving past the concept of double standards and Ashwin and is now hurrying towards the ex-captain. "Stop! What-- you can't go back." This, then, is the danger of being Lorna and encouraging attachments in the name of fixing people and being fixed herself. When it comes down to is, there's no way to let them back out of her life, once they're in her head. Just, obviously, this is the first time she's ever had to watch someone leave. "Jen, -stop-." She reaches out to him.
And Roa has a baby in her arms. Roa was not meant to do this sort of this. Holding babies. So she stares down at the little red-haired bundle that stares up at her. Roa blinks. Riann blinks. Roa blinks. Riann waves a hand. "Don't, uh...don't tell your da. That we were cursing," she murmurs. "He'll want to be the first to teach you bad words." Then she's shifting the baby's weight to pass her back up, guardwards. And then, in the direction of the errant 'Captain'. "Ash! We -have- to -go-!"
Jensen pauses, with his hands tangled in straps, and twists awkwardly to look down at the little blonde thing on the sand. He isn't so high up, and since he's stopped he sort of dangles there. Sorry, Tialith. "Lorna, what's gotten into you? Aw, damnit." Now how did he get those straps around... no, like that... Ah, there. His landing on the shifting ground below is unsteady. Bump. Sorry, Tialith. "What's all this fuss? We're sorta on a time... thing." And he casts a worried glance Roa-wards, because she's small and rather domineering right now.
Ashwin strides after Lorna, shooting Roa a pained glance as he comes to a halt behind the island girl. One hand comes up, as though to stave off the weyrwoman's wrath for a few moments longer. "Lorna, we have to go. They can't come and find Tialith here. The dragons at home are going to look for her soon, and they can't not find her." One hand comes up to rest on the girl's shoulder. "We haven't got time. I'm sorry."
Fuss? Lorna just eyes him, helplessly, a moment spent meeting his puzzled gaze. But then he's not mounting, which in Lorna's book is a point for her side. Taking strength from this, she draws a breath. "Please, Jensen, haven't we..." But then Ashwin's hand is on her shoulder, and for the first time she actually looks at Roa, where she's standing. She knows she's fighting a losing battle -- no, a lost battle -- and it shows. She swallows, pulling her eyes back down to look up at Ashwin. "You said you probably wouldn't be going, that it likely wouldn't happen. You -said-."
Baby is...not handed off. And nobody is on the dragon. Nobody. Is on. The dragon. They should already be between. What is...and then Roa stills. It's the second time she's heard the name Lorna, but it's the first time it clicks. Slowly, Roa begins following after the others, Riann settled against her shoulder. Tialith moves behind, her head all but draped over her rider's shoulder. There is another low and unhappy rumble. "Lorrie..." Roa swallows sharply. "I said I'd come. I gave my word." And that has ever been a point of great importance to the girl-turned-woman. That word.
"Haven't we huh?" Jensen's eyebrows have lifted. Suddenly the rush just doesn't seem so important. He's watching Lorna when she looks up at Ashwin, his expression one of mild irritation when she says /that/. He levels that look on his... Ashwin. "You makin' promises t'little island girls?" And then, when Roa seems so familiar all of a sudden, Jen seems to have had enough. "Okay," and he holds a hand up, "I wanna know what's goin' on here and I wanna know fast." Pause. "She might spit up, happens from time t'time." And without hesitation he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handkerchief, which he tucks under Riann's head, between her cheek and Roa's shoulder. "There. Now." Expectant would be a good word for what he's doing with his face.
Ashwin is caught short, glancing over at Jensen for a moment, hand on Lorna's shoulder. But old habits die hard, and he does, of course, as ordered. "Told her we might be going, sir," he informs his Captain. "Told her I wasn't sure if it'd happen." There's no sidelong glance for Roa with that admission. Time for debates on that subject later. "I talked to Lorna about coming, sir. She hasn't got family here now, and this place isn't for a girl growing up." Unspoken: Derek's men are here.
Lorrie. The blond-headed girl turns her head around to look at Roa again. She doesn't say anything, to this stranger she only knew a decade ago, just looks at her for a moment. Jensen's demand cuts through the moment of almost recognition and her pale eyes snap to his. "What's going on? You're -leaving- me! Nobody ever leaves, that's the way it works. I -need- him," she points a finger at Ashwin. It's the closest thing she's ever thrown to an all-out temper tantrum, and the emotions are alien to the girl, leaving her confused in their wake. Ashwin's explanation, which likely makes a bit more sense, brings her up short. "I can't leave," she says, softly. "I can't leave him, I can't leave J'l--" But then she stops. She can, of course. Bridges have been burnt, fields have been sewn with salt, etc. etc.
Wait, no one said anything about spit up. Or shoulder things. Roa stares briefly at the little creature she holds that burbles softly and occasionally kicks her legs. And leaks, apparently. From both ends. Why is she still holding the baby? "Oh. No." And it had so seemed that Roa's eyes couldn't widen any more. And yet, they did. "You didn't. Ash. You -didn't-." She hasn't got...lost a brown, Issa had said. A brown. The goldrider swallows sharply. "Right. Come on, then, if you're coming. And if you're not, well, I'm going to be asking Tia to start just scooping people up in a moment. So."
"Aw, jays. Ashwin." Jensen's tone is purely accusatory. What did you go and get her all attached for? He lifts a hand, shoves his fingers into his hair. Hello, haystack. "For... the sake o'gettin' outta here, if she's goin', get her up on that dragon," and he points /up/, "and get her buckled in. And if she ain't, get yourself up there twice as fast. We got no time for this. What she said." And, tilting his head towards Roa, Jensen turns and clambers on up. And reaches down for Riann, and generally goes about buckling himself in.
Ashwin pauses a beat, jaw squaring under his Captain's disapproval, gaze going straight ahead. Even the prospect of their return to High Reaches has him slipping into his Lieutenant's role in anticipation. "Yessir." His reply is quiet, but he squeezes Lorna's shoulder, releases it, and steps towards Tialith. "Now, Lorna. Mount up, or step back." His pale eyes are on the sunburned girl, gaze steady. "I'm sorry." But even as he's sorry, he's backing up towards Tialith as he's been commanded to do, by both Jensen and Roa.
It's agony, no doubt, but one that will likely not settle in until the effects of her decision are already washing over her. As it is, the urgency of the situation has impressed itself on her, and Lorna merely stares for a moment, somewhere past Ashwin's shoulder. But as he moves away, she lifts her head. "No. I'm going." Once decided, she moves quickly. Her bare feet leave the sand for the last time as she steps up on Tialith's foreleg, reaching for the straps to help herself -- she's climbed up on dragonback often enough, though never with such a large creature. She manages, though, settling behind Jensen and the baby, beginning to fumble with the straps somewhat woodenly.
And suddenly, they've gone from none to three, and it is Roa who is the last one standing on the beach. she wraps her hands around the straps and scales lightly up to settle in front of the others, quickly snapping herself into place. She grabs her riding jacket and shoves it backwards. "For Lor...na. It's autumn, there. It's cold. Ash, make sure her straps are on right." The acting Captain is only allowed a moment to do so before Tialith launches herself upwards, into the air, and between.
....................................................................
Landing in the bowl is a silent affair, and Jensen's temporary farewells are quiet as well, the Captain slipping off to see about a place to sleep. Ashwin's shivering as his feet hit the ground, and he steps back to allow the others to dismount, fingers already curling around the hilts of his knives as he looks out into the darkness around them.
The shock of between is one she's felt before, and though you never quite get used to it, the tensing of her frame and the faint gasp is perhaps not quite so pronounced as it might be otherwise. It's the way Lorna stiffens when they emerge from between and the cold lingers that is so telling, the shiver as she pulls Roa's riding jacket around her. She's blank now, the sheer enormity of it all resulting in all but an entire shutdown as she slides down after Ashwin, one hand against Tialith to steady herself as she lands.
Roa swings down last and she, at least, is dressed correctly for the climate, save that her big, fluffy coat has been handed off to Lorna. Once free of passengers, Tialith alights to her ledge and slinks inside and...well, that may come a surprise to Ashwin. That Tialith -has- a ledge. Roa looks over at the shivering guard and then at the glazed over girl. Back and forth. "Your cousin," she says simply. "From Ista. That's where you were hiding. She's lost her family. She's come here to stay with you for a while. We've got to get somewhere warm."
Ashwin nods, giving himself a shake, and abruptly his shivering ceases. "Got that, Lorna?" His question is gentle, one hand again going out to rest on her shoulder. "It's a few hours until dawn, here. I'm going to find you somewhere safe to sleep, and you're going to stay there until I come and get you for breakfast, got it?" He glances across at Roa, pauses as his gaze follows Tialith, then returns his attention to the islander with a blink. "I'm going to stick right by you, I promise. My word on it."
Her shivering might well be from shock just as much as cold. Lorna blinks, looks up at Ashwin. "N-no. What?" Then, something sinking in, she clutches at his arm. "I don't know where it is. Is-Ista. Someone will ask me and I don't know."
Roa studies Lorna for a long moment, and then she says, softly, "Aida." Then a bit louder, "Lorrie. We're going to take you to a friend of mine and Ashwin's. She'll tell you all about Ista. She has spiced tea and her own room. All right?"
"Aida, yes." Aida has her own room? Ashwin registers that with a brief flicker, but his hand tightens on Lorna's shoulder. "You can trust Aida. Nobody's going to ask you anything before I come and get you. I'll come by early, before breakfast, and we'll eat together and work it out." So very many words for Ashwin, and in the wake of them he's silent for a moment, swallowing. "Not alone, Lorna. Like I told you."
"Spiced--" Lorna's not absorbing the right pieces of these statements. Spiced tea. But they're moving her along, swept up in the urgency of leaving the island, and she just nods numbly. "Aida." Pause. "Aida, okay." She doesn't react to Ashwin's last statement, no room for it right now. Her eyes are, instead, roving the darkness and the vastness beyond that is the bowl walls, the spires of High Reaches that are dark shapes against the sky. No reaction, just silent observation, numb acceptance.
"Come on, then," Roa murmurs and she's leading them out of the bowl and into the living cavern. At three in the morning, it's quite empty as she makes her way through the corridors that lead to the residents' rooms and over to a particular door with a particular plaque that has a particular name. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock.
Ashwin follows in silence, one arm around Lorna's shoulders. He's got his head down, jaw squared. Reverting to type, after only five minutes on the ground.
There is knocking. On the door. When she is trying to sleep. What? It takes a long time -- and it is a /long/ time -- of knocking for her to finally stir, but eventually, yes. She does stir, and she's stumbling and more than half asleep when the door is hauled open and she peers out blearily. What? Ruffled, rumpled, and generally barely, barely there.
Lorna, too, is silent. Bare feet, with sand still clinging to them, must be freezing against the bowl floor and the stone as they move inside. She glances over her shoulder as they move through, the enormity of the living cavern something that penetrates the shock, but then they're going down a corridor and there's a door and then -- Aida. Lorna just stares, numbly.
Well, look who's outside the door. A very short weyrwoman looking like she could be a whole lot happier. And behind her a very tanned and bleach-blonde Ashwin with his arm around a similarly colored and sunburnt girl of around sixteen turns who's wrapped up in a riding jacket. "Um. So. You remember how you once said you'd do any favor for me?" This, and a sheepish smile, are Roa's wee-hour greeting to the Headmaster's Assistant.
Behind Roa, Ashwin lifts his head, his free hand coming up to scratch at the stubble along his jaw. His lips twitch for a moment to something that's a ghost of a smile, but that, combined with a quick lift of his chin, is all he's got by way of greeting for Aida. Which means it's just like old times.
Stare. Really, that's what Aida does. First, at Roa, and then she sees Ashwin and so she stares at him. It's a blank look, devoid of any and all comprehension. See Aida. See Aida's brain break right in half and slide out her ears, crawl away from her and back into bed. Du-r. Lorna, she gets stared at in turn, just in case she might feel left out, and then /finally/ the almost-sleeping young woman scrambles back from the door, pulling it wide open so they can come in. "Favor?" Confused, still sleepy, but as agreeable as she can make it. "Yeah, anything? Hi? Am I still asleep?" At least words are coming now.
It seems staring is the order of the evening, because Lorna has no problem staring right back at Aida with uncanny intensity, almost desperate for something to look at that's not an enormous living cavern or a bowl so big it could hold her entire home's population several times over.
"No," comes the soft promise from the diminutive Reachian. "You're awake. They're home. Ashwin's here and Jensen's probably asleep by now. They're here. They, ah, brought someone with them." Roa tips her head towards the girl. The stranger. "This is Lorna. She needs a place to stay. I was thinking maybe here. With you. She, uhm." There's a bit of throat clearing. "She's from the island. Because that's where they've been." Then Roa stands a bit straighter. "Ashwin's cousin, you see. From Ista. Where he's been keeping hidden. She's come to stay with him for now." It is quite clear, however that 'the island' and 'Ista' are not the same place.
Ashwin moves, steering Lorna in via that arm around her shoulders, and giving her a squeeze before she's released. "My cousin," he confirms, deadpan. "I'm going to be back for her before breakfast. Early. In a few hours. Lorna," and he ducks his head, switching his attention. "You stay here. The room catches on fire, you stay here until I come get you. Just a few hours. Try and sleep, will you?" His tone is gentler for the girl, but firm enough. Then he's stepping to Roa's side, and - he has changed while he was gone - crooking Aida a grin that differentiates him from the man who fled this place in the night. "You missed me." It's very nearly a tease for Aida. "We'll do those questions you love in the morning."
"I am absolutely not awake," Aida mumbles, shaking her head as she disagrees. "May not be dreaming, but I am not awake." Her head turns so she can blink at Ashwin again, then she squints, as if really making sure she's seeing him for real. He's talking. And...grinning. What? There's more blinking, and she just shakes her head and looks to Lorna. "I have tea," she says, as if this had something to do with anything. "It'll help you sleep. I'm Aida. Um. There's the bed. I'll get you a nightgown. I think some of my clothes can be made to fit you with...help. Easy." She squints at the girl, then looks back to Roa and Ashwin. "I did," she agrees. "She'll be fine here."
"Cousin," Lorna echoes, in a soft voice, the first words she's spoken since coming inside. Pale eyes find Ashwin's face as he moves away, but she doesn't say anything to forestall him. Her panicked clinging is quite over now, and she straightens a little bit as the man steps to Roa's side. She just nods in response, the gesture enough of a promise for the moment that she will stay put. Aida's a lot faster to react than she, sleep-muddled though the woman is, and Lorna turns to blink at her, slowly.
There is a glance at Ashwin when that smile appears. That tease. Different indeed. But then Aida is speaking, and perhaps a little bit of tension leaves Roa as Aida agrees to play hostess. Certainly her eyes close for a moment and the slow exhalation suggests some strain now gone. "Thank you," she says to Aida, and then her gaze flicks to Lorna. "We'll see you in the morning. Ashwin will come for breakfast. I'll find you for lunch. Rest, much as you can. First nights in a new place are shells." She turns now, to slip out the door and let the two roomies settle in.
Ashwin pauses just a moment longer, pale blue eyes lingering first on Aida, and then on Lorna. It is to the latter that he speaks. "Just a few hours," he promises. Then he's turning to slip out after Roa. And for a moment, as he exits, it might seem as though he's reaching for the weyrwoman's hand.