Who He Is
Location: Dragon Baths
Time: Evening on Day 26, Month 10, Turn 2
Players: D'ven, Roa, Tialith, Teraneth
Scene: A meandering conversation eventually leads to a unique challenge.
It's early evening, and the dragon bath's are quiet and mostly empty. The only people currently present are D'ven and his bronze, enjoying the peace and the warmth. Teraneth's eyes are closed, the dragon letting out small contented sounds of pleasure every so often. D'ven is seated on the floor, leaning against a handy bit of rock on the edge of the draconic pool, his own eyes half closed.
It's early enough in the season that the heated pools are more novelty than annoyance to the slender Tialith. She pads into the room and over to the water, slipping in quietly as her rider appears a few beats later. She has her riding coat on, and boots, but removing both those things reveals just a tank top and the half-pants she wears when she's slogging in the water and scrubbing dragon hide. Tialith rumbles a soft greeting to the drowsing bronze, and Roa offers her own quiet, "Evening, D'ven," as she heads over of scrubbing sand and a brush.
Tialith's rumble is answered by a similar one, Teraneth opening his eyes and shifting slightly to ensure he's not in the way. Instead of his eyes slipping closed again, the bronze then settles in to watch the queen receive her bath. "Evening Roa." D'ven murmurs, cracking one eye all the way open. "How are you and Tialith?"
"The same as ever," comes Roa's reply as she slips into the water after her dragon. It could be an idle response, or it could be more than that. She sits on the edge of the pool as Tialith crouches down to let water slide over the top of her. "How are yourself and Teraneth?"
D'ven considers the answer for a moment as he watches Roa. "We...continue." He finally decides with a slight sigh. "Recent events...well, there was a lot of personal responsibility there. I am learning the worst loss is the loss of those you were responsible for."
The brush is hefted and the soapsand is smeared onto it before Roa wades out to begin with one golden shoulder. Then she looks back over her, brows lifting. "Personal responsibility? How so?"
"It's our Wing. Mine as much as it is his. It's how we work." D'ven explains with a simple matter of fact tone. "And we lost three. Over Balen." And it's seemingly put aside for the moment, just like that.
"Oh." It seems for a moment that Roa may not say anything more, but then there is the soft and obligatory, "I'm sorry." Her arms work the brush and Tialith's eyes lid as Roa finds a faintly itchy spot. "It's hard enough when they come into the infirmary, and I can't help them. It must be even worse, when they're up in the skies and you're fighting alongside them."
D'ven nods slowly. "It is. The worst point is that tiny moment before they blink out forever. When you want to go to them, and you know it's just a heartbeat away. And instead you turn away to catch another clump, because you know going will just make things worse and probably cost more lives."
"The bigger picture," Roa murmurs, "over the individual. I think, in some ways, that's what makes leading anything so hard. It's about individual people, but it's about them collectively."
"Yeah." D'ven agrees softly, before shaking his head slightly and shifting topic somewhat lamely. "So...what have you been up to lately?"
"Homework. Hidework. Infirmary duties. Queen's wing. I think I sleep somewhere in there." Roa pauses in her scrubbing to consider. "Sometimes I eat, too."
D'ven nods thoughtfully, falling silent for a short time. "You ever spend any time with R'vain, Roa?" He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Scrubscrubscu-...the brush stops and the little weyrwoman looks over her shoulders, brows lifted. "The Weyrlingmaster?" As opposed to some other R'vain. "We've spoken." She turns back to Tialith, moving a little further down her side. "Why?" asked lightly. Idly.
D'ven shakes his head, his normal playfulness rising up for a moment. "No, my brother R'vain over at Ista." He replies, a smile playing across his lips before he returns to quiet seriousness. "Just curious, really. Wondering what you make of his potential as a Weyrleader. I figure he's a fairly good candidate."
"Well, can't much say, having never been to Ista. I don't expect they'll want an Istan weyrleader however." Roa steps back as Tialith spreads a wing. The scrubbing is more gentle on the sensitive membranes. "He's like you in some ways," she says a bit more solemnly. "The things he enjoys. Drinking. Women. But he's...there's a sharpness to him. A roughness. And he's not political." There is more scrubbing before she adds, softly, "I wouldn't choose him."
"Huh." D'ven makes a small sound of surprise, tilting his head a little more. "Why not?" He asks quietly. "I'd have thought a lot of the skills required for being Weyrlingmaster would have made him a good Weyrleader."
"He isn't," Roa says, still rather soft and a little hard to hear over the scrubbing. "A good weyrlingmaster. Or wasn't, until very recently. He seems to be trying harder with this latest group."
D'ven blinks several times. "Oh." He says, sounding almost disappointed for a moment. "I didn't realise that." He falls silent then, as if unsure where to take the conversation now.
"I've only been here a little over a turn." Tialith dunks her wing, fans it wide, and then lifts it to present her side. "He does try. Is trying. I just...I'm waiting for it to crumble, again. He drinks as a coping mechanism. There is a great deal to cope with, as Weyrleader."
"Yes, I guess there would be." D'ven replies thoughtfully, glancing over a Teraneth for a moment. The bronze doesn't seem to notice his rider's attention, still lazily watching Tialith. "Did you go to the Social?"
"I did, actually." Roa laughs softly. "I won a comb at the raffle. Did you?"
D'ven smiles at the laughter, and shakes his head. "No, I didn't make it along. I meant to, but you know how it is..." There's a half shrug. "Kinda makes me feel old, missing parties."
"Old?" The weyrwoman peers over at the bronzerider, one brow arching. "How old are you, anyhow? You look like you've got plenty of parties left in you. Gathers aren't very hard to find, I'm sure you could enjoy a night of celebration to make up for anything missed." Roa vanishes from sight as she moves too get the back of Tialith's left hind leg.
"You have a point." D'ven allows, dodging the question of his age for the moment. "Though I shouldn't, at the moment. There's a lot to do. Need to tighten everything up in the Wing, so we don't lose anymore. And, well, things might happen at any time."
Roa waits until she's visible on the other side of Tialith before she answers. "You know something I don't, bronzerider?" she chides lightly.
D'ven shakes his head, smiling slightly at the chiding. "Not a thing, weyrwoman." He replies softly. "But I do know popular opinion has it something should have happened by now. And over the turns I've learnt to trust the weyrborn. They get to know these things."
"Maybe," Roa's own reply is rather elusive as well. For a while, she lapses into silence and simply lathered Tialith whose eyes have fully closed.
D'ven too is content to savor the silence, and lets it persist for a long time as he watches Roa work on her queen. Finally he clears his throat and then, silence broken, murmurs "It's nice here. Warm, and peaceful."
"Sometimes," Roa murmurs, her words accompanied with faint splashes and the sounds of the brush, "I like the winter just as an excuse to tuck up someplace warm."
"I'd never looked at it like that before, but it is." D'ven agrees with a soft smile. "And it makes you appreciate the warmth all the more."
"And the summers. I've visited Boll a few times." Roa steps back and Tialith dunks again. "They appreciate what they have, but, I don't know. There's a comfort in the seasons. Summer’s better for the winter."
D'ven ponders this for a moment. "It's the comfort of the familiar. They are a constant. Spring will come, and summer will follow. That is something we know, and we can cling to no matter how harsh and long the winter."
"They makes great metaphors, too," is Roa's solemnly and straight-faced addition to the reasons for the seasons.
D'ven nods, sporting his best poker-face. "Yes, yes they do. Wonderful metaphors. And when spring comes, it will be time to plant the crops. Things that, if nurtured and defended, will grow and in time come to nourish people."
A faint glance over to D'ven, one brow arching. "You should have been a harper." She turns back towards her dragon to rub her flank gently. "Or a novelist," is added idly.
D'ven blinks for a moment, before looking intently at Teraneth. "Whatever makes you say that?" He even manages an airy laugh, shaking his head slightly. Ha ha, isn't that a silly idea.
"I dunno." Roa plops back on the ledge to sit and Tialith sinks down a final time to enjoy a soak. "It just seemed the sort of flowery thing you'd find in a novel for the masses. Things are nurtured and defended. Dashing hero. Lovely heroine. Torrid kisses..." Her eyes twinkle, much as she tries to hide the tease from her voice.
D'ven's eyes threaten to burn a hole in Teraneth's hide, even as his tone remains level and airy. "Oh, you know me Roa. I can never really get torrid kisses out of my mind." There's another laugh, this one slightly more genuine, as he shrugs. "You meet a lot of people in Caucus. I guess one of the Harpers rubbed off on me."
"Must have been quite a girl, then, that Harper," comes Roa's murmur. This one is, indeed, complete with a smirk.
"It was the blue." D'ven muses thoughtfully. "Brought out her eyes. She had such lovely eyes. Though anyone who knows me would never believe it, it was the first thing I noticed about her."
"What's the first thing you usually note about a girl?" asks Roa was a small laugh.
"Her figure, of course." D'ven replies automatically, though avoiding crassness for once. "Usually because I'm not close enough to see details. Sometimes the hair."
The weyrwoman laughs softly and shakes her head. "Of course. Well, seems fair enough. I think we all have aesthetic preferences, even if we won't all admit to them."
D'ven laughs. "I think very few people are willing to admit what their aesthetic preferences are. It's such a personal thing for a lot of people. Though I think everyone has a soft spot for that stereotypical romantic figure, whether that means gently rippling muscles or long flowing locks."
Her eyes flick to him then, brows rising again. "Gently rippling...long flowing...are you sure you don't write passionate love stories?"
There's another blink as D'ven shuts down, defenses rising. Forcing a laugh, he shakes his head. "Positive. I can barely write. They'd be unreadable. And besides, I don't have the time." There's a pause, and he hits upon something. "Ok, fine, I read a book of such things and poetry once when I was a lot younger. Figured it would help me seduce girls, if I could talk like that. Turns out it wasn't necessary, but some of it stuck."
"Well, there's no shame in reading much of anything, the way I see it." One of Roa's legs kicks, sending a small splash upwards. "No shame in writing, either. But sorry, if I said something off. I didn't mean to insult."
D'ven shakes his head. "You didn't insult me, just....it seems such an odd idea. I'm not exactly the romantic type. And as for there being no shame...I guess it depends. I know Br'ce has always caught a lot of teasing from us about being well educated, so I guess it varies."
"How people treat you and whether you have any cause to be ashamed are two different things," Roa notes as she leans back on her hands. "It does seem odd, but you're surprising, D'ven. There's more to you than you like to let on. I don't think I know yet, just how much more." She tips her head down and then to the side to peer at him with a faint smile.
D'ven returns the smile. He can't help it, the head motion is just so endearing. "It's very flattering of you, to say there's more to me than there appears." He replies, before looking thoughtful. "I don't think anyone will ever really know how much more, Teraneth excepted of course. Nobody's been with me all of my life, from start to now. Tiv comes close, though."
"I doubt Tiv knows everything, either. Just more than anybody else." Roa leans back, half-reclining on her elbows, feet swinging idly in the water. "We all have secrets. Things we wouldn't tell. I just think you hide more than most, and some of it unnecessarily."
"Well, I can hardly deny having secrets. As you said, everyone does." D'ven agrees with a slow nod. "But everything I hide, I hide for a reason. And some of those reasons are selfish, but they're mine."
"Whose else's would they be?" Roa says with a soft laugh. But she watches Tialith, and then Teraneth and asks rather a different question. "Did you want to be a rider? How did you end up out of the crafts and on the sands?"
D'ven laughs softly. "It's funny, but I said the same thing about being a rider that I said when the idea of being a Weyrleader was mentioned. I was quite happy where I was, I had my feet under the table, and...but, to answer the whole question. I'd been at Benden Hold for...more than a few turns. The Craft and I had parted ways, and how doesn't matter." He pauses. "But, I was Searched. And I didn't want to. But you see, I did love Benden Hold. The way of life there. Lord Carlin...a man after my own heart. And I was entreated to go. And once I was told that it would be an honor for the Hold, to have more of their residents on the Sands...well, I wanted to give them that. And I was reassured my place would be waiting for me, when I wanted to come home. But, Teraneth found me."
There are small nods from Roa for each step of the story. "The answer is 'no', of course. Because we can't, really. But, excluding the bond, if you could, would you change it? Would you have stayed a holder?"
"No." D'ven answers immediately, but it's not automatic. It's surprisingly heartfelt. "I couldn't. I couldn't turn my back, and walk away...knowing that people were going to be risking their lives for me and I could be up there too...but I chose to change things. I wouldn't be me, if I did that."
A small nod. "I expected green," is Roa's answer to a question unasked. "Just green. Or nothing at all." The very not-green dragon exhales lazy bubbles as she enjoys the heat of the water.
D'ven gives a nod of his own. "I didn't expect to Impress. Partly because I didn't want to, but also because I didn't think dragons chose selfish people. I thought that bronzes were the preserve of the heroes of bedtime stories. I still do to a degree, so I just don't try and understand how I ended up here. Makes my head hurt." There's a wry grin. "People. That's what it's all about, I think. If I were to give you a map of my life, if you like, a scavenger hunt for you to find all these things you want to know...it would be composed of people."
"I suppose mine would too," Roa considers slowly. "With a very big gap in the middle. And trees, in the beginning." She chuckles and shakes her head. "Sorry. That made no sense, but it's still true." She watches her feet, and then Teraneth. "I don't think you're selfish, D'ven. I think you just wish you were."
"I think it's the same thing, really." is D'ven's answer, his eyes drifting to Teraneth also. "After all, my deepest desires are for selfish things. Or selfishness." There's a smile. "As for the trees...well, it doesn't have to make sense to be true. And mine...has gaps, too. Bits that just trail off, or end suddenly."
A large nod of agreement. "Sudden ends. Absolutely sudden ends. Several big ones in mine." Roa's foot kicks again. "Why?" she asks, "the desire for selfishness? Or it just is?"
"Mine too." D'ven agrees softly, apparently feeling some kinship. The question elicits a shove. "I don't really know. I think it's that all the things I enjoy, I tend to enjoy to excess. And if I were selfish, I wouldn't have to ration them. Wouldn't have to deny myself."
"Maybe in the end, all the things anyone enjoys are selfish to a degree. I mean, could it be otherwise?" Roa's head cants to the side as she considers. "Even the unselfish things we want, we want for selfish reasons. I mean, Tia...it's selfless, the way I'd do for her. But it's selfish. I do for her because it feels good. It benefits me. Her well being is my own."
D'ven imitates the headcant as he watches Roa thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. But, if I go too far down that lane...well, I have to admit I'm a good man deep down. And I can't do that, for some reason. I prefer to stick with just being a decent man."
"Why can't you?" She wouldn't be Roa, really, if she didn't poke, poke, poke at such statements.
"Partly because of the responsibility, the things that says about me, that acknowledging it would bring." D'ven replies. "But more realistically...I can say this, because you already know. I know I'm not. That's been proven to me."
"One mistake, made turns ago, does not condemn your whole life to something less," the weyrwoman notes softly.
"You know, I might almost believe that." D'ven replies, his voice barely audible now. "But sometimes I lay awake at night, and I wonder. Some of the exiles were very young...maybe they just made a mistake. Didn't know what they were getting into, or just wanted to rebel. Kids do that. Rebel against their parents. One mistake is enough, if it's a big enough, serious enough, mistake."
The water is very interesting. The way it ripples and bubbles. The way it swirls around and over the dragons that settle in its depths. "Maybe," Roa agrees slowly. "Or, maybe, we make mistakes too. I think about the weyrlings, sometimes. About the age you have to be to impress. About the boys that were kidnapped. Ten turns...so they were all, what. Six? Seven? What mistake did they make?" Her eyes close slowly. "I don't know."
"Do you want to play a game, Roa?" D'ven finally asks very quietly indeed. "I can't promise it will be fun, but it might get you the answers you seem to want. It's something that's been on my mind for a while. That you're so sure it's me you want beside you if you end up in charge, but you don't really know me. It doesn't seem fair. To you, or to the people you...we'd, be responsible for."
Her head turns to regard D'ven in silence. It's a long, quiet moment and she blinks slowly, dark blue eyes watching him. "All right," she says in the end. "Let's play a game."
"Remember I talked about a scavenger hunt?" D'ven asks, his voice sounding very far away, withdrawn and yet very open. "Suppose I give you four names. It's up to you what you do with them, what questions you ask and to whom. But I'll give you four names. And the game is simply this. To see if you can tell me who I am."
Roa nods slowly. "All right. I'm listening." Even her legs have stilled.
D'ven is silent for a moment, before the names come. "Paven." There's a pause, as if saying the name has cost him something. "Dalara." Again, that pause. "Calday." Less of a pause, this time. "And Blatvar." A very long pause.
She watches his mouth when he speaks, her focus almost more intent on that than his actual voice. Carefully she repeats those names, minus the pauses. "Paven. Dalara. Calday. Blatvar." A glance to his face, in general, to make sure she's got it right.
D'ven nods slowly, face emotionless, everything carefully controlled. "I believe this is probably the point where I say good luck."
"Probably so." Roa sits up and then she considers. "I suppose you don't really know me, either."
"No, I guess I don't at that." D'ven agrees, before a wry smile makes its way across that face. "Odd how that never really occurred to me as a problem. Still doesn't. I guess we really are our own worst enemies."
"That's good." She scoots back, drawing her legs out of the water as Tialith rises, letting said water sluice down her sides before she steps out of the bath, pads some feet away (but not enough) and shakes. Roa ducks, lifting an arm to shield her face. "Ack! Tia!"
D'ven laughs at the queen's antics, not attempting to defend himself from the flying water. "I was about due a shower, I reckon."
"When Tialith bathes, so does everyone within a twenty mile radius," notes the weyrwoman solemnly. She stands, shaking her arms, and then her legs. "Paven. Dalara. Calday. Blatvar," she murmurs again, softly, as she moves to regather her coat and boots.
D'ven merely nods to the sound of the murmuring, noting the gathering of clothing. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon." He comments, eyeing Teraneth thoughtfully. "I think we'll be staying here for a little while yet."
"She shakes off the bath, he just opts to absorb it in through the skin. I..." Roa nods, once. "You will. Have a good evening, eh? Be a little selfish."
"Thanks. I'll try." D'ven replies with a wry smile, before his eyes slip back to half-shut.
Tialith gives a final shake as Roa slips on her boots. With a small wave, she heads out, the gold trailing after.
Once they're gone, and the man and his bronze are alone, D'ven cracks open an eye and regards Teraneth thoughtfully. "There, it's done. Now I don't have to worry about it anymore. I just have to worry about what it's going to mean for us, instead."
Time: Evening on Day 26, Month 10, Turn 2
Players: D'ven, Roa, Tialith, Teraneth
Scene: A meandering conversation eventually leads to a unique challenge.
It's early evening, and the dragon bath's are quiet and mostly empty. The only people currently present are D'ven and his bronze, enjoying the peace and the warmth. Teraneth's eyes are closed, the dragon letting out small contented sounds of pleasure every so often. D'ven is seated on the floor, leaning against a handy bit of rock on the edge of the draconic pool, his own eyes half closed.
It's early enough in the season that the heated pools are more novelty than annoyance to the slender Tialith. She pads into the room and over to the water, slipping in quietly as her rider appears a few beats later. She has her riding coat on, and boots, but removing both those things reveals just a tank top and the half-pants she wears when she's slogging in the water and scrubbing dragon hide. Tialith rumbles a soft greeting to the drowsing bronze, and Roa offers her own quiet, "Evening, D'ven," as she heads over of scrubbing sand and a brush.
Tialith's rumble is answered by a similar one, Teraneth opening his eyes and shifting slightly to ensure he's not in the way. Instead of his eyes slipping closed again, the bronze then settles in to watch the queen receive her bath. "Evening Roa." D'ven murmurs, cracking one eye all the way open. "How are you and Tialith?"
"The same as ever," comes Roa's reply as she slips into the water after her dragon. It could be an idle response, or it could be more than that. She sits on the edge of the pool as Tialith crouches down to let water slide over the top of her. "How are yourself and Teraneth?"
D'ven considers the answer for a moment as he watches Roa. "We...continue." He finally decides with a slight sigh. "Recent events...well, there was a lot of personal responsibility there. I am learning the worst loss is the loss of those you were responsible for."
The brush is hefted and the soapsand is smeared onto it before Roa wades out to begin with one golden shoulder. Then she looks back over her, brows lifting. "Personal responsibility? How so?"
"It's our Wing. Mine as much as it is his. It's how we work." D'ven explains with a simple matter of fact tone. "And we lost three. Over Balen." And it's seemingly put aside for the moment, just like that.
"Oh." It seems for a moment that Roa may not say anything more, but then there is the soft and obligatory, "I'm sorry." Her arms work the brush and Tialith's eyes lid as Roa finds a faintly itchy spot. "It's hard enough when they come into the infirmary, and I can't help them. It must be even worse, when they're up in the skies and you're fighting alongside them."
D'ven nods slowly. "It is. The worst point is that tiny moment before they blink out forever. When you want to go to them, and you know it's just a heartbeat away. And instead you turn away to catch another clump, because you know going will just make things worse and probably cost more lives."
"The bigger picture," Roa murmurs, "over the individual. I think, in some ways, that's what makes leading anything so hard. It's about individual people, but it's about them collectively."
"Yeah." D'ven agrees softly, before shaking his head slightly and shifting topic somewhat lamely. "So...what have you been up to lately?"
"Homework. Hidework. Infirmary duties. Queen's wing. I think I sleep somewhere in there." Roa pauses in her scrubbing to consider. "Sometimes I eat, too."
D'ven nods thoughtfully, falling silent for a short time. "You ever spend any time with R'vain, Roa?" He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Scrubscrubscu-...the brush stops and the little weyrwoman looks over her shoulders, brows lifted. "The Weyrlingmaster?" As opposed to some other R'vain. "We've spoken." She turns back to Tialith, moving a little further down her side. "Why?" asked lightly. Idly.
D'ven shakes his head, his normal playfulness rising up for a moment. "No, my brother R'vain over at Ista." He replies, a smile playing across his lips before he returns to quiet seriousness. "Just curious, really. Wondering what you make of his potential as a Weyrleader. I figure he's a fairly good candidate."
"Well, can't much say, having never been to Ista. I don't expect they'll want an Istan weyrleader however." Roa steps back as Tialith spreads a wing. The scrubbing is more gentle on the sensitive membranes. "He's like you in some ways," she says a bit more solemnly. "The things he enjoys. Drinking. Women. But he's...there's a sharpness to him. A roughness. And he's not political." There is more scrubbing before she adds, softly, "I wouldn't choose him."
"Huh." D'ven makes a small sound of surprise, tilting his head a little more. "Why not?" He asks quietly. "I'd have thought a lot of the skills required for being Weyrlingmaster would have made him a good Weyrleader."
"He isn't," Roa says, still rather soft and a little hard to hear over the scrubbing. "A good weyrlingmaster. Or wasn't, until very recently. He seems to be trying harder with this latest group."
D'ven blinks several times. "Oh." He says, sounding almost disappointed for a moment. "I didn't realise that." He falls silent then, as if unsure where to take the conversation now.
"I've only been here a little over a turn." Tialith dunks her wing, fans it wide, and then lifts it to present her side. "He does try. Is trying. I just...I'm waiting for it to crumble, again. He drinks as a coping mechanism. There is a great deal to cope with, as Weyrleader."
"Yes, I guess there would be." D'ven replies thoughtfully, glancing over a Teraneth for a moment. The bronze doesn't seem to notice his rider's attention, still lazily watching Tialith. "Did you go to the Social?"
"I did, actually." Roa laughs softly. "I won a comb at the raffle. Did you?"
D'ven smiles at the laughter, and shakes his head. "No, I didn't make it along. I meant to, but you know how it is..." There's a half shrug. "Kinda makes me feel old, missing parties."
"Old?" The weyrwoman peers over at the bronzerider, one brow arching. "How old are you, anyhow? You look like you've got plenty of parties left in you. Gathers aren't very hard to find, I'm sure you could enjoy a night of celebration to make up for anything missed." Roa vanishes from sight as she moves too get the back of Tialith's left hind leg.
"You have a point." D'ven allows, dodging the question of his age for the moment. "Though I shouldn't, at the moment. There's a lot to do. Need to tighten everything up in the Wing, so we don't lose anymore. And, well, things might happen at any time."
Roa waits until she's visible on the other side of Tialith before she answers. "You know something I don't, bronzerider?" she chides lightly.
D'ven shakes his head, smiling slightly at the chiding. "Not a thing, weyrwoman." He replies softly. "But I do know popular opinion has it something should have happened by now. And over the turns I've learnt to trust the weyrborn. They get to know these things."
"Maybe," Roa's own reply is rather elusive as well. For a while, she lapses into silence and simply lathered Tialith whose eyes have fully closed.
D'ven too is content to savor the silence, and lets it persist for a long time as he watches Roa work on her queen. Finally he clears his throat and then, silence broken, murmurs "It's nice here. Warm, and peaceful."
"Sometimes," Roa murmurs, her words accompanied with faint splashes and the sounds of the brush, "I like the winter just as an excuse to tuck up someplace warm."
"I'd never looked at it like that before, but it is." D'ven agrees with a soft smile. "And it makes you appreciate the warmth all the more."
"And the summers. I've visited Boll a few times." Roa steps back and Tialith dunks again. "They appreciate what they have, but, I don't know. There's a comfort in the seasons. Summer’s better for the winter."
D'ven ponders this for a moment. "It's the comfort of the familiar. They are a constant. Spring will come, and summer will follow. That is something we know, and we can cling to no matter how harsh and long the winter."
"They makes great metaphors, too," is Roa's solemnly and straight-faced addition to the reasons for the seasons.
D'ven nods, sporting his best poker-face. "Yes, yes they do. Wonderful metaphors. And when spring comes, it will be time to plant the crops. Things that, if nurtured and defended, will grow and in time come to nourish people."
A faint glance over to D'ven, one brow arching. "You should have been a harper." She turns back towards her dragon to rub her flank gently. "Or a novelist," is added idly.
D'ven blinks for a moment, before looking intently at Teraneth. "Whatever makes you say that?" He even manages an airy laugh, shaking his head slightly. Ha ha, isn't that a silly idea.
"I dunno." Roa plops back on the ledge to sit and Tialith sinks down a final time to enjoy a soak. "It just seemed the sort of flowery thing you'd find in a novel for the masses. Things are nurtured and defended. Dashing hero. Lovely heroine. Torrid kisses..." Her eyes twinkle, much as she tries to hide the tease from her voice.
D'ven's eyes threaten to burn a hole in Teraneth's hide, even as his tone remains level and airy. "Oh, you know me Roa. I can never really get torrid kisses out of my mind." There's another laugh, this one slightly more genuine, as he shrugs. "You meet a lot of people in Caucus. I guess one of the Harpers rubbed off on me."
"Must have been quite a girl, then, that Harper," comes Roa's murmur. This one is, indeed, complete with a smirk.
"It was the blue." D'ven muses thoughtfully. "Brought out her eyes. She had such lovely eyes. Though anyone who knows me would never believe it, it was the first thing I noticed about her."
"What's the first thing you usually note about a girl?" asks Roa was a small laugh.
"Her figure, of course." D'ven replies automatically, though avoiding crassness for once. "Usually because I'm not close enough to see details. Sometimes the hair."
The weyrwoman laughs softly and shakes her head. "Of course. Well, seems fair enough. I think we all have aesthetic preferences, even if we won't all admit to them."
D'ven laughs. "I think very few people are willing to admit what their aesthetic preferences are. It's such a personal thing for a lot of people. Though I think everyone has a soft spot for that stereotypical romantic figure, whether that means gently rippling muscles or long flowing locks."
Her eyes flick to him then, brows rising again. "Gently rippling...long flowing...are you sure you don't write passionate love stories?"
There's another blink as D'ven shuts down, defenses rising. Forcing a laugh, he shakes his head. "Positive. I can barely write. They'd be unreadable. And besides, I don't have the time." There's a pause, and he hits upon something. "Ok, fine, I read a book of such things and poetry once when I was a lot younger. Figured it would help me seduce girls, if I could talk like that. Turns out it wasn't necessary, but some of it stuck."
"Well, there's no shame in reading much of anything, the way I see it." One of Roa's legs kicks, sending a small splash upwards. "No shame in writing, either. But sorry, if I said something off. I didn't mean to insult."
D'ven shakes his head. "You didn't insult me, just....it seems such an odd idea. I'm not exactly the romantic type. And as for there being no shame...I guess it depends. I know Br'ce has always caught a lot of teasing from us about being well educated, so I guess it varies."
"How people treat you and whether you have any cause to be ashamed are two different things," Roa notes as she leans back on her hands. "It does seem odd, but you're surprising, D'ven. There's more to you than you like to let on. I don't think I know yet, just how much more." She tips her head down and then to the side to peer at him with a faint smile.
D'ven returns the smile. He can't help it, the head motion is just so endearing. "It's very flattering of you, to say there's more to me than there appears." He replies, before looking thoughtful. "I don't think anyone will ever really know how much more, Teraneth excepted of course. Nobody's been with me all of my life, from start to now. Tiv comes close, though."
"I doubt Tiv knows everything, either. Just more than anybody else." Roa leans back, half-reclining on her elbows, feet swinging idly in the water. "We all have secrets. Things we wouldn't tell. I just think you hide more than most, and some of it unnecessarily."
"Well, I can hardly deny having secrets. As you said, everyone does." D'ven agrees with a slow nod. "But everything I hide, I hide for a reason. And some of those reasons are selfish, but they're mine."
"Whose else's would they be?" Roa says with a soft laugh. But she watches Tialith, and then Teraneth and asks rather a different question. "Did you want to be a rider? How did you end up out of the crafts and on the sands?"
D'ven laughs softly. "It's funny, but I said the same thing about being a rider that I said when the idea of being a Weyrleader was mentioned. I was quite happy where I was, I had my feet under the table, and...but, to answer the whole question. I'd been at Benden Hold for...more than a few turns. The Craft and I had parted ways, and how doesn't matter." He pauses. "But, I was Searched. And I didn't want to. But you see, I did love Benden Hold. The way of life there. Lord Carlin...a man after my own heart. And I was entreated to go. And once I was told that it would be an honor for the Hold, to have more of their residents on the Sands...well, I wanted to give them that. And I was reassured my place would be waiting for me, when I wanted to come home. But, Teraneth found me."
There are small nods from Roa for each step of the story. "The answer is 'no', of course. Because we can't, really. But, excluding the bond, if you could, would you change it? Would you have stayed a holder?"
"No." D'ven answers immediately, but it's not automatic. It's surprisingly heartfelt. "I couldn't. I couldn't turn my back, and walk away...knowing that people were going to be risking their lives for me and I could be up there too...but I chose to change things. I wouldn't be me, if I did that."
A small nod. "I expected green," is Roa's answer to a question unasked. "Just green. Or nothing at all." The very not-green dragon exhales lazy bubbles as she enjoys the heat of the water.
D'ven gives a nod of his own. "I didn't expect to Impress. Partly because I didn't want to, but also because I didn't think dragons chose selfish people. I thought that bronzes were the preserve of the heroes of bedtime stories. I still do to a degree, so I just don't try and understand how I ended up here. Makes my head hurt." There's a wry grin. "People. That's what it's all about, I think. If I were to give you a map of my life, if you like, a scavenger hunt for you to find all these things you want to know...it would be composed of people."
"I suppose mine would too," Roa considers slowly. "With a very big gap in the middle. And trees, in the beginning." She chuckles and shakes her head. "Sorry. That made no sense, but it's still true." She watches her feet, and then Teraneth. "I don't think you're selfish, D'ven. I think you just wish you were."
"I think it's the same thing, really." is D'ven's answer, his eyes drifting to Teraneth also. "After all, my deepest desires are for selfish things. Or selfishness." There's a smile. "As for the trees...well, it doesn't have to make sense to be true. And mine...has gaps, too. Bits that just trail off, or end suddenly."
A large nod of agreement. "Sudden ends. Absolutely sudden ends. Several big ones in mine." Roa's foot kicks again. "Why?" she asks, "the desire for selfishness? Or it just is?"
"Mine too." D'ven agrees softly, apparently feeling some kinship. The question elicits a shove. "I don't really know. I think it's that all the things I enjoy, I tend to enjoy to excess. And if I were selfish, I wouldn't have to ration them. Wouldn't have to deny myself."
"Maybe in the end, all the things anyone enjoys are selfish to a degree. I mean, could it be otherwise?" Roa's head cants to the side as she considers. "Even the unselfish things we want, we want for selfish reasons. I mean, Tia...it's selfless, the way I'd do for her. But it's selfish. I do for her because it feels good. It benefits me. Her well being is my own."
D'ven imitates the headcant as he watches Roa thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. But, if I go too far down that lane...well, I have to admit I'm a good man deep down. And I can't do that, for some reason. I prefer to stick with just being a decent man."
"Why can't you?" She wouldn't be Roa, really, if she didn't poke, poke, poke at such statements.
"Partly because of the responsibility, the things that says about me, that acknowledging it would bring." D'ven replies. "But more realistically...I can say this, because you already know. I know I'm not. That's been proven to me."
"One mistake, made turns ago, does not condemn your whole life to something less," the weyrwoman notes softly.
"You know, I might almost believe that." D'ven replies, his voice barely audible now. "But sometimes I lay awake at night, and I wonder. Some of the exiles were very young...maybe they just made a mistake. Didn't know what they were getting into, or just wanted to rebel. Kids do that. Rebel against their parents. One mistake is enough, if it's a big enough, serious enough, mistake."
The water is very interesting. The way it ripples and bubbles. The way it swirls around and over the dragons that settle in its depths. "Maybe," Roa agrees slowly. "Or, maybe, we make mistakes too. I think about the weyrlings, sometimes. About the age you have to be to impress. About the boys that were kidnapped. Ten turns...so they were all, what. Six? Seven? What mistake did they make?" Her eyes close slowly. "I don't know."
"Do you want to play a game, Roa?" D'ven finally asks very quietly indeed. "I can't promise it will be fun, but it might get you the answers you seem to want. It's something that's been on my mind for a while. That you're so sure it's me you want beside you if you end up in charge, but you don't really know me. It doesn't seem fair. To you, or to the people you...we'd, be responsible for."
Her head turns to regard D'ven in silence. It's a long, quiet moment and she blinks slowly, dark blue eyes watching him. "All right," she says in the end. "Let's play a game."
"Remember I talked about a scavenger hunt?" D'ven asks, his voice sounding very far away, withdrawn and yet very open. "Suppose I give you four names. It's up to you what you do with them, what questions you ask and to whom. But I'll give you four names. And the game is simply this. To see if you can tell me who I am."
Roa nods slowly. "All right. I'm listening." Even her legs have stilled.
D'ven is silent for a moment, before the names come. "Paven." There's a pause, as if saying the name has cost him something. "Dalara." Again, that pause. "Calday." Less of a pause, this time. "And Blatvar." A very long pause.
She watches his mouth when he speaks, her focus almost more intent on that than his actual voice. Carefully she repeats those names, minus the pauses. "Paven. Dalara. Calday. Blatvar." A glance to his face, in general, to make sure she's got it right.
D'ven nods slowly, face emotionless, everything carefully controlled. "I believe this is probably the point where I say good luck."
"Probably so." Roa sits up and then she considers. "I suppose you don't really know me, either."
"No, I guess I don't at that." D'ven agrees, before a wry smile makes its way across that face. "Odd how that never really occurred to me as a problem. Still doesn't. I guess we really are our own worst enemies."
"That's good." She scoots back, drawing her legs out of the water as Tialith rises, letting said water sluice down her sides before she steps out of the bath, pads some feet away (but not enough) and shakes. Roa ducks, lifting an arm to shield her face. "Ack! Tia!"
D'ven laughs at the queen's antics, not attempting to defend himself from the flying water. "I was about due a shower, I reckon."
"When Tialith bathes, so does everyone within a twenty mile radius," notes the weyrwoman solemnly. She stands, shaking her arms, and then her legs. "Paven. Dalara. Calday. Blatvar," she murmurs again, softly, as she moves to regather her coat and boots.
D'ven merely nods to the sound of the murmuring, noting the gathering of clothing. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon." He comments, eyeing Teraneth thoughtfully. "I think we'll be staying here for a little while yet."
"She shakes off the bath, he just opts to absorb it in through the skin. I..." Roa nods, once. "You will. Have a good evening, eh? Be a little selfish."
"Thanks. I'll try." D'ven replies with a wry smile, before his eyes slip back to half-shut.
Tialith gives a final shake as Roa slips on her boots. With a small wave, she heads out, the gold trailing after.
Once they're gone, and the man and his bronze are alone, D'ven cracks open an eye and regards Teraneth thoughtfully. "There, it's done. Now I don't have to worry about it anymore. I just have to worry about what it's going to mean for us, instead."