Honey, I'm Home!
Location: East Weyr
Time: Evening on Day 16, Month 11, Turn 2
Players: Ashwin, D'ven, Roa
Scene: D'ven comes to see Roa, but talks to Ashwin instead (because Roa is talking to R'vain). Roa comes home expecting Ashwin, but talks to D'ven instead. Then Roa and Ashwin talk to each other, and Roa wishes they hadn't, instead.
The technical owner of the weyr is nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that it's coming on to quite late in the evening. Neither Tialith nor Roa are in evidence, but Ashwin is. He's not long home himself, to judge by the fact that his boots and jacket are still strewn across the weyr in his wake. He's made it as far as the weyrwoman's desk, and he's busy peering into a jug that's been abandoned there.
There's the sound of a dragon landing on the ledge, rather large by the sound of things. Perhaps this is Roa. Except for all the ways in which it isn't. From outside, a man's voice floats in. "Honey, I'm home!" D'ven calls out jokingly, clearly in a good mood. He walks in, shaking his head slightly. "Wait till you hear what I..." That's when he sees Ashwin, and trails off. Well, this is awkward.
Ashwin lifts his head briefly, and his features shift, a small, private smile showing briefly. Then D'ven's voice - absolutely not Roa's - rings out, and the smile is gone. So the guard is standing, waiting, when the other man arrives, wearing his usual deadpan expression as a greeting. "Sit down." He speaks quietly, without a twitch of a smile. "Relax, tell me all about your day." A beat. "Darling."
D'ven stays exactly where he is for the moment. "Teraneth just spoke to Tialith...I thought...Roa was expecting me." Wait, that's not a helpful thing to say either. There's a pause, then the bronzerider gets things together. "How about I turn around, go back outside. Then I come back in, and I say 'Hello, is Roa at home?' and you say 'No, I'm afraid not' and I say 'Sorry for disturbing you, please tell her I called'. And then I leave again. Quietly."
Ashwin considers that for a long moment, one hand coming up to scratch along his jawline, where a beard so recently was. Then he tilts his head first left, then right, as though to indicate he's so-so about this proposition. "You're leaving, when there's..." He pauses, tipping another glance sideways, down towards the jug. "Cold klah on offer? She could be back any hour, you know."
"Mostly, I was leaving because I've made a complete hash of meeting you and that was the exact thing I didn't want to do for all sorts of reasons." D'ven replies with a wry smile. "But if you're offering cold klah, I couldn't possibly walk out." He comes further in then, watching the other man thoughtfully.
The man's frank, you've got to give him that. Apparently Ashwin does, for there's a brief, fleeting quirk that might have been something distantly related to a smile. "A man of taste," he murmurs, although the jug is abandoned. "I think we've got something more palatable, actually." He makes no offer of absolution, although he does step away, further back into the weyr, presumably in search of said drink.
D'ven does in fact smile, though it's brief and small. "I'd really appreciate that." There's a glance around at the chairs. "Do you mind if I sit down?" There's a pause. "Besides the obvious, I hope you're well?"
"Please, make yourself..." There's a brief pause before Ashwin presses on, as though he's not unaware of the humour, or the irony in the words that will come next. It would be handy if he gave some indication as to which. "At home," he concludes.
"Thank you." D'ven murmurs, taking a seat and letting out a deep breath. He's just not going to approach the many things held in those words, since Ashwin is giving no sign of how he sees them. The bronzerider starts to say something, then stops. It's probably fairer to let Ashwin set the pace of things.
Ashwin is comfortable with silence, that much is clear. He finds his bottle, he finds a pair of glasses, and walks over quietly to set the pair of them down. There's no sign he feels the weight of any hostly duty try and make conversation. He fills both glasses, stoppers the bottle, and sets it down, all in silence.
D'ven watches as the glasses are filled. "Thanks." He murmurs, letting the silence drift on for a little while longer. "Don't thing I've seen you around, before." He finally offers. "I'm D'ven, bronze Teraneth's." Then he waits, to see if this will go anywhere.
"I was away for a time," Ashwin replies, nudging D'ven's glass closer, then lifting his own. "I know that much, though. Bit hard to get around the place without hearing your name just now, sir." He studies his drink, although he does not lift it to his lips. Instead he looks up, pale eyes fixing on the other man's face. "Ashwin." No title to go with the name - he lacks one, just now.
"Yeah, so I understand. About the hearing my name bit, I mean." D'ven replies, taking up his own glass. "Never thought I'd get sick of people talking about me, but I'm getting there." His eyes meet Ashwin's, and he nods. "Pleasure to meet you, Ashwin." He seems to genuinely mean it, too. There's a pause, then a soft "Heard your name before, too."
Smart man'd probably prefer to hear about other people," Ashwin agrees, continuing his study of the bronzerider's face. "Already knows enough about himself, most likely. And what he doesn't know, he won't learn from hearing folks take bets." He drops his gaze to his glass then, and pauses to drink. "Can't say my name's worth mentioning, sir."
"Please don't call me sir." D'ven smiled wryly, shaking his head. "I may have turns of sir ahead of me. This...doesn't seem like one of those situations where I should be sir." There's a thoughtful pause. "To be honest, all I really want to hear about is it being settled and things moving toward getting better. And I wouldn't say that, about your name I mean."
"As you like, sir," Ashwin murmurs in reply, without a flicker of recognition that he's directly disobeying a request. "Whole weyr's looking forward to settling into something that'll last," he agrees, looking past D'ven for a moment as though to weigh up the bronze dragon who waits on the ledge. As to his own name, no comment.
D'ven smiles slightly at the apparently refusal of his request. "Just wish the waiting would be over." He murmurs, more to himself than Ashwin. "What do you think? About it all, I mean."
"Not for me to say one way or the other," Ashwin replies. He knows, maybe, that this won't be considered enough, for he continues unprompted to add his own quiet opinion to his companion's. "Just wish the waiting would be over," he agrees, borrowing the other man's words.
"Not for you to say." D'ven murmurs, repeating the words to himself thoughtfully, before nodding as he gets the opinion he's looking for. Then there's a lapse into silence, as he studies his companion and their drinks.
"I'm a holder. I didn't grow up knowing about weyrs," Ashwin elaborates into the silence, after a time. "We came here last time there was a leadership change, to try and keep peace. Safe to say we don't know what it looks like when it goes right."
D'ven sighs, though he seems grateful for the elaboration. "The problem is, most people don't. Even those who grow up in one." He muses, peering into his drink. "If it goes right...well, you don't see all the stuff going on behind the scenes unless you're involved with it. So it's just...well, I guess it looks much the same as anywhere else that is going right. Everything that's supposed to get done is done, and most of the people are happy most of the time."
Ashwin is quiet for some time, mulling this theory over. Then he nods slowly, abandoning his study of his drink to resume his study of his visitor, who presumably yields more information. "Then that's how we'll know when it's done," he replies quietly. "Most of the people happy most of the time."
"Then what?" D'ven asks thoughtfully. "I'm guessing you, at least, aren't just planning to go home with the satisfaction of a job well done."
Ah. Good question. So says Ashwin's long pause, and the slow breath he sucks in through his nose. "No, not back to Tillek." He's dropped the 'sir', at least temporarily, although D'ven's name has not made an appearance to compensate. "I'm Reaches, now."
D'ven doesn't attempt to hide the smile that plays across his face at that answer. "Glad to hear it." He replies, peering into his drink for a moment. Then his gaze returns to Ashwin, one of the fingers of his free hand tapping gently against his leg as he considers his next question.
Just look where Ashwin's living - he's used to twenty questions. So he's quiet, lifting his glass for a mouthful of the stuff. He swallows quickly, although without the wince the rough, uncultured drink might merit. "Sometimes easier to see, coming in from outside," he murmurs, a nod indicating that he is aware the bronzerider shares this experience. "Sometimes just harder to tell."
"You mentioned Tillek earlier." D'ven comments, the other's words having enabled him to pick up a new thread. "I'm curious, did you grow up there, or..." There's a thoughtful pause. "What I think I'm getting at, is is this your first time as an outsider, or?"
There's a pause then, and a sharp flicker of Ashwin's gaze, albeit brief. D'ven is assessed for that question, measured, although the guard's eyes settle almost immediately. "No," he replies, after that consideration. "Moved from Reaches Hold to Tillek when I was young."
D'ven nods thoughtfully. There seems to be some sort of exchange going on from his point of view, and he offers up his part without prompting. "This is my fourth place since I left the one I came into this world at."
"Well," Ashwin replies, fairly promptly, given the pauses so far. "There's marks going down says it'll be the last for a while." And what Ashwin thinks of that, he does not say, as blank as ever.
"So I've heard." D'ven remarks with a wry twist of his lips. It's not entirely clear what he thinks of it, either. "Tell you, it puts a whole new perspective on things. Given my job, could be the last one ever." There's a pause as he thinks about that, then apparently decides he won't go down that road. "Been to Tillek." He volunteers after a moment. "Nice place."
"Could be," Ashwin agrees. Don't the two of them just make a fine cheer squad for D'ven's chances? Any more collective enthusiasm and the place would catch fire. "Good place to grow up," he agrees. "Plenty coming and going to watch."
"Yeah, there's...plenty of fine things to watch there." D'ven agrees, a smile playing across his lips for a moment before he returns to more serious contemplation. There's a sip of his drink, he too not making any sort of face.
One brow lifts, which for Ashwin qualifies as a major change in expression. "You've been down to watch more than the ships," he volunteers, the words more a statement than a guess.
D'ven laughs softly. "Absolutely, totally, guilty as charged." He admits without any trace of embarrassment. "Though, I do like looking at the ships too. You know, it's a rare thing that I've never done and would like to, but I've never been on a ship. Never sailed. One of these days, maybe."
"I can't say I recommend it," Ashwin replies blandly, studying his drink. "I'll build them any day, but sailing them I'll leave to other men. World goes up and down in a disconcerting way."
"Still, they're....very graceful. Sleek." D'ven muses with a half-shrug. "I might, if in a suitably soppy mood, go as far to say beautiful. You know how to build them, then?" That apparently has attracted his interest.
Now that draws a glimmer of a smile from Ashwin, a quick flash of good humour. "Wouldn't go saying 'beautiful' to any sailors you might meet on your next visit," he offers by way of advice. "Ship's like a woman. Costs a fortune to dress her up, she's always wrecking her clothes, behaving contrary and there's no guarantee you'll get a thing out of her." A beat, and then he goes on. "I built for a couple of turns, yes."
D'ven smiles at the comparison. "A still is very like a woman too. For much the same reasons." He laughs softly. "But, both of them...you can trust them. They ain't ever going to walk away from you. Always gonna be there for you. I come home, and she's always right where I left her tickin' away." There's fondness in his voice, before he shakes his head and pulls himself back out of the depths. "Must have been interesting work."
"Unless she sinks," Ashwin replies philosophically. "Or blows up." The respective fates of the ship and the still, presumably. "It was work. Shifted along to join the guard, which suited me better."
"Yeah. But there's no malice in her when she does that. She never means no harm. Never wants to hurt you." D'ven smiles slightly, before nodding at the talk of work. "I might have ended up in the guard eventually if things hadn't worked out the way they did. Well, scratch that. With my reputation, I doubt it."
She doesn't use the ledge, which is a shame. If she was with Tialith, and landing on the ledge, Roa might have a clue to whoall was chatting in her weyr. But she comes up the steps and through the little tunnel. The door opens and the dark-haired weyrwoman steps inside to find...blink. She stills in the doorway, one brow hitching upwards at the sight of Ashwin standing and D'ven seated and the two seemingly conversing. It is Ashwin she looks to first, offering a nod and just the barest hint of a smile. Eyes soften, corners crinkle. Then it's gone and she's looking over at D'ven. "This is where you went? Tialith said you were going to visit. I assumed she'd..." Her brows draw down, sudden and sharp. "She didn't tell Teraneth where I was?"
Ashwin nods slowly. "Can't say I'm sure about the ship," he murmurs quietly. "Seemed to take a real delight in my suffering." His drink is nearly gone, and this seems to surprise him, for he's frowning slightly when he looks up to Roa's entrance. There's a brief softening of his expression, an echo of the small smile with which he greeted the sound of Teraneth's landing, and he lifts his chin to beckon her over.
"No, she didn't." D'ven replies, mustering a smile to greet Roa and standing slowly. It just seems the thing to do. "I guess she figured we knew, and I figured since she'd said it was ok you were in. Long story short, I'm lucky I don't have the black eye I probably richly deserve." He then glances between the two of them. "There was some stuff I wanted to talk to you about, but it can wait till morning. Would you two like me to get outta ya home now?"
She's beginning to move towards the pair even before the little chinjerk, but that small gesture has Roa's shoulders relaxing. It's not so much that they were tense before, save that when one compares how they -were- held to how they -are- held, some element of wariness has been dropped. At D'ven's explanation, Roa only shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "She's playing games is what she's doing. I'm not too happy about that. And what did you do to warrant a black eye?" She glances between the rider and the guard then, happy to get an answer from either one. A bit belatedly, "I assume introductions have been made? Don't go running off on my account."
"Did nothing at all," Ashwin replies quietly, no doubt in contradiction to the explanation the other man would offer. There's no marked change in him now that the owner of the weyr has arrived, although the small softening of his expression that greeted her is still in place. "No call to go. I was going to wash anyway. Been training."
"Well, if you're sure." D'ven replies, easing back into his seat. "Oh, I was my usual self Roa. Came down here in a good mood, said something stupid. You know me." Strangely, he doesn't elaborate, perhaps out of respect for Ashwin's choice of explanation.
Her head tilting a bit to the side, Roa has that quizzical expression on her face again. One brow arches upwards, eyes moving between the two men. "Go wash, then," she offers as her attention settles on Ashwin, "Clean clothes are hanging in the bathroom. They ought to be dry by now." D'ven is given another glance. "I am imagining a number of scenarios, each one more horrifying than the last. It would be a kindness to enlighten me with the truth and put my mind at ease."
There's a pause before Ashwin departs, and one might almost think for a moment that his eyes are harboring a smile that's not reaching his mouth. "Not sure it'd ease," he murmurs, reaching out as he passes the queenrider to squeeze her shoulder, and trail one hand across her back as he departs. His words drift back over his shoulder as he disappears through towards the bath. "Might get jealous." And then the door shuts.
"Now Roa, whatever made you think I was a kind man?" D'ven laughs, before relenting. "I called out 'Honey, I'm home'. And then when I saw who was waiting for me, said something about you expecting me." There's a slight shake of his head. Oddly, Ashwin's response goes unmentioned. Growing serious, the bronzerider looks over at Roa. "Went to Ista, a few nights ago."
The touch and the tease are both accepted, and despite the fact that the only thing done to reciprocate is to slightly shift her hand so her fingertips brush Ashwin's knuckles as they trail away, it is clear that for the little exchange, her attention is wholly on the unranked Lieutenant. The last jibe, called over his shoulder, has Roa staring at the ground and struggling to bite back a smile. Then, once he's gone and D'ven is speaking, her focus moves and settles on the bronzerider. This time she -does- laugh. "Oh Faranth, you didn't," but there is only amusement in her voice. Until..."Ista?" She moves over to the bed to sit, mirth exchanged for a sudden focus. "Really." She watches him, waiting for the rest.
D'ven grins, shaking his head at himself. "I did, you know." He replies, returning once again to seriousness. "Yes, Ista." He confirms with a nod. "Know a girl there. Wanted to get away for a bit. Anyway, stuff happened to come up. Turns out that was the first they'd heard of any greenrider. None of theirs had been injured." There's a pause. "Heard a few opinions of S'lien from closer to home, also. Thought you might want to hear."
If the news that the dragon at Telgar was no Ista green is in any way unexpected, Roa's expression does not show it. She only leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and nodding once. At the mention of S'lien, however...there's that tiny flicker or surprise. "Do tell," she encourages.
"Apparently E'sere used to tell someone he was close to that S'lien was cruel and vicious. A bully, who took every chance he had to lord it over him and humiliate him. I'm not sure I'd automatically trust things from that man's mouth, but.." D'ven pauses thoughtfully. "G'thon, who I do trust said he had an enjoyably professional relationship with the man's predecessor. But he couldn't have such a thing with S'lien. Suggested he was cut from the same cloth as I'zul. Called him...what was it...dangerous."
"All of that, hmm?" Roa's hands have laced together and she lifts them to serve as a little shelf on which to rest her chin. "That's quite a description for just one man. I can't say as I knew him particularly well myself. On the other hand, I can't say any of that surprises me at all."
D'ven nods. "All of that." There's a half-shrug. "I'm....well, I'm really not sure about all of this, Roa." He holds his hands up in a fending gesture. "I know, I understand, why we can't just go to J'cor. I'm not going to run off and do anything stupid. But...it feels wrong, Roa."
"Then go to J'cor," is Roa's soft and simple answer. "You heard the rumor. You've been to Ista. You've pieced together enough to have an alternate theory. See J'cor, and tell him. Okay?"
"That's what you want me to do?" D'ven looks up, seeming surprised, as his hands slowly drop. "You said last time that the word of S'lien against a long gone greenrider or a goldrider who was probably just bitter about being transferred, that would quash everything. What makes you think my word can stand?" There's a pause. "I intend to do it, I'm just checking you really think it's the right thing to do." Because apparently that matters.
There's only so long a man can take in the shower before he's just finding excuses to be somewhere else, and Ashwin's reached his limit. Steam wafts out as the door opens, the man's hair damp, the promised clean clothes discovered and donned. Still, a few moments more are allowed for private conversation, for he doesn't move to join the pair again immediately, but rather walks over to collect his jacket where it was initially dropped, to hang it beside Roa's.
"Because you're unrelated. You're not from Telgar. You're not a greenrider. You run with a group that's known to be staunchly traditional, so it's not likely you'll be thought to sympathize with this rumored instigator captive. You're a rider at Reaches, and you're concerned. The rumor did it's job." Roa's lips lift in a tiny smile. "Take the candle, D'ven. Start a fire." Her eyes flick over as the door opens and steam and Ashwin waft out, but her posture remains the same and there's no particular indication she means for the discussion to end.
"And I can genuinely say people have come to me with concerns about this, because at least one person, besides you of course, has." D'ven blinks for a moment. "You knew all along this would happen. You meant for me to do this." There's a slight shake of his head. "And here I thought being partners meant we didn't play one another." Her tiny smiles gets an answering one, however, so he's clearly not really annoyed. "Fine. Just remember you get to bandage my wounds if I burn myself." And then Ashwin has arrived, and the bronzerider seems to have finished.
Ashwin gives no sign that he registers that the conversation has stopped. The jacket is snagged, and he turns to pad back and retrieve his boots where they were discarded. He pauses in stooping for them, and then looks up, gaze blank and voice even. "Might go down to the kitchens, see about something small to eat," he offers quietly.
"I knew," Roa murmurs, looking back to D'ven. "And I'm sorry about that," although she doesn't sound it. "It had to be true enough to pass muster. Whoever went to J'cor had to mean what they'd say. I trust you to do it right, but that meant..." one hand lifts and she shrugs. "You sent me off on a roundabout journey not so long ago. So, perhaps this is fair payment. We both got what we wanted in the end. That doesn't always mean we went the right way to get there. In this case, I think I did." Her eyes slide over to Ashwin and she says, simply, "If you're hungry. No other reason, excepting that, that you need to leave."
D'ven's lips twist in amusement. "I did, you're right. Though, I think I went the right way about that too. We'll call it equal, then. Just don't do it again." There's something gentle in his chiding, that says he knows she will and doesn't really mind. He too turns to look over Ashwin, nodding agreement with the woman. "No need for you to go unless you want to."
Ashwin is still for a moment, studying the pair. Then he breathes in through his nose, long and slow, and stands, stomping his way into his boots. "Reckon I am." He was blank before, but polite. Now something's closed off, behind those pale blue eyes. He stoops to tie off rough knots, enough only to keep his boots from coming off entirely. Then he offers the visiting bronzerider a polite nod, and turns to depart.
A tiny smirk at the bronzerider's chastisement. "Well," Roa murmurs, "You know me." And then another glance towards Ashwin and something in what he's doing has that faint smile vanishing and her hands lowering to clasp in her lap. "I, um...maybe we'd better call it a night, D'ven."
D'ven follows Roa's gaze. "Yeah, maybe we'd better." He agrees, sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere. "I've got to, go...work to do. Need to think about what exactly I'm going to say to J'cor." Even as he's standing, and heading towards the ledge, the bronzerider can't resist a quip. "He's going to hate me. Every time I turn up in his office, I've got trouble for him. Usually involving criminals. He's gonna start calling me Harper Hixon if I'm not careful." There's a shake of his head, and then he's out onto the ledge. How fast can a man mount a dragon and get airborne? Time to find out.
Roa stands to watch D'ven leave, going to far as to walk to the opening that leads out to the ledge. Her brows shoot high and she blinks at that quip. "You read Harper Hixon mysteries?" But her hand lifts in a wave to send the bronzerider off, so perhaps she doesn't really expect an answer.
There is no answer, no acknowledgment of her wave. Merely a sudden flurry of movement as a rather distracted D'ven urges his bronze back to their ledge as fast as Teraneth's wings can carry them.
Is there a socially correct amount of time to absent oneself, in a situation such as this? If so, Ashwin hasn't read the etiquette book, nor had the benefit of the Caucus class, so he chooses a quarter of an hour as being about right. He's silent when he returns, easing the door shut behind him, although that might just be because his mouth's full, presumably of some of the bread roll he's holding.
And just like that, their roles have been reversed. It's Ashwin returning from somewhere and Roa lying on the bed, hands behind her head, blinking up at the ceiling. Her head turns at the sound of the door opening and she offers the usual greeting. "Hey." Tialith is still absent.
His boots, for the first time in a very long time, lack the complicated network of knots that drive her up the wall. This means he can kick them off with relative ease, and he does so, walking around in silence to his side of the bed, setting the last of his snack down on the table so he can begin unbuttoning his shirt. "Hey." It's not an inviting greeting.
Roa only watches as he moves, but she remains in the same position. The toes on one foot curl tightly against the sole and then relax again. "I messed something up," she deduces. "But I don't know how. What happened?"
Ashwin sniffs inelegantly, getting his shirt unbuttoned enough to haul it over his head, and this he does. "I'm not a Caucus class," he replies in a mutter. "You don't need to pick me apart afterwards to see what happened."
"You're annoyed," Roa offers reasonably. Or, at least, calmly. Her other foot repeats the gesture, toes clenching into a 'fist' and releasing. "I made you annoyed. I'd like to know how so I don't do it again."
"You're going to do it again, it's fine." Ashwin undresses quietly then, and it's only a minute before he's climbing into bed beside her, to flop on his back so that they lie parallel. He stares up, as though the ceiling has something to offer. "Let it lie."
"It's not fine," she mutters softly, but then Roa is pushing up into a sit and inching off the bed to head to the wardrobe. Her sleeping clothes of a tank top and light, baggy, cotton trousers are pulled down. She peels out of her daily garb and tugs the new clothes on. Socks are kicked off and she skitters back to bed to pull frigid feet under the covers. She looses her bun into a long braid, but doesn't bother to unwind her hair any further.
Ashwin, fairly unsurprisingly, lifts his head the inch or two required to track her with his eyes, and keeps her in his sight as she undresses, then dons her pajamas. As she climbs back into bed, he sucks a long, slow breath in through his nose, then shifts to fold a hand behind his head. "Warm your feet up." His customary invitation lacks something, tonight.
The weyrwoman sinks further under the covers, pulling them up to her shoulders. This, it seems, is her plan for warming her feet, because she doesn't move any closer to the other person in the bed. "You're doing a pretty dismal job of convincing me I don't need to poke, Ash." Her head lifts a bit and her shoulders twist so she can peer over at him.
"Just told you there's no need," Ashwin replies, comfortably settled now and staring up at the ceiling. "Or there's no want, if you like it that way better. You don't have to fix it all."
"I want. You don't." But that's rather obvious, so Roa quiets again. Her fingers tap lightly on the covers as she lowers back onto her other side. She positions herself so she can watch him stare upwards. "This is important. If things turn out a certain way, he's going to be around a lot. I don't want that to mean nights of you staring at the ceiling."
"Well, there's something to look forward to," Ashwin mutters, testy at best. Which is, within a certain frame of reference, an improvement on blank. "There's no talking around this, you should let it lie. I trust you, all right?"
She pushes up onto one elbow so she looks down at him as well as over. "Ash," and now her own voice is a touch irritated, "if Tia goes up first, someone is going to be around a lot. I want it to be D'ven. Who would you rather?" Her head cants to the side. "Not my place to say," she offers his answer for him. "So you'll glower at the ceiling instead."
"I'll tell you what's my place to say," Ashwin retorts, eyes firmly on the ceiling. "I'll say that I'd rather it if he didn't think it was /his/ place to come bounding in here as though he's the one who's your mate. I'd /rather/ he didn't tell me I'm welcome to stay in my own home."
"He didn't mean it like that. I thought you were trying to be polite. I didn't realize you were leaving because you wanted to. He offered to let you stay because you offered to leave. You invited yourself out. It was a question. We each answered. I'll be more careful, next time." Roa blinks slowly, inhaling a deep breath. "And I won't have him come here any more. But that means I go there. Frankly, that looks worse to those who are watching."
No answer to that, although he matches her breath in. "There was a reason I didn't want to talk about this," he replies, very quiet indeed.
"There's a reason I did," Roa counters. "Let's hear yours, first."
Ashwin's first reply is an inarticulate groan of protest, his free hand coming up to scrub at his face. "Fuck, you always get your way on this." The words are only half audible through that hand, perhaps as intended. "I was leaving because I wasn't in the mood to watch you gaze into each other's eyes, right? I really don't care what the reason is."
There is a moment of silence before Roa speaks. "You want to know why I gaze into his eyes, Ash? You want to know why we're such good friends?" Just a gentle emphasis on that last word. "Hmm?"
"No, I do not." Ashwin's retort is prompt, dark. "That's what you're failing to understand here. What I want is for you not to gaze into his eyes at all. I don't want your list of reasons. We both know it's an argument I'll lose."
"It's because," as if he'd actually wanted to know, "when he and Aida and I brought our suspicions about E'sere to J'cor, he's the one that pegged Aivey. I don't know that we would have caught her, else. She was the key to bringing you and Jensen home. Trial by fire." Perhaps Roa's arm aches because she flops down, rolling onto her back. "Can't help but see a friend in him, after that. That is, you know, all I see. I've always been friends with boys. It's just never mattered before."
"Then remind me to thank him some day for the debt I owe him," Ashwin replies, voice quieting, returning to his more usual, reserved murmur. "I'll ask him if he's worked out a way to have you take any heed at all of what he wants."
There's a very faint smile. "He hasn't. In fact, I've probably done worse to his head than I do to yours. Sort of sad, isn't it, when you're the lucky one?" Roa's quiet for a while before noting, "If Tia goes first...truth is, whoever catches, it's going to be more than just a business relationship. It has to be. This place is a mess, and it's going to take a lot to fix it. I'm going to form a relationship if I'm the one doing it alongside some Weyrleader. It won't change what we have, but it will be a friendship. Or something along those lines. You probably didn't want to hear that."
Ashwin is quiet for quite some time then, eyes slowly closing. He does speak eventually. Rather with the air of a man summoning great patience. "You think," he murmurs, "that I, of all men, have no understanding of unusual friendships? That is not the problem."
It takes a moment. She turns her head to peer over at Ashwin with her brows faintly furrowed. But then...oh!...the glows brighten and understanding comes. "A fair point," Roa concedes with a soft chuckle. "Tell me the problem, again then. I still don't understand."
"The problem," Ashwin offers quietly - suddenly devoid of his irritation, and his displeasure, "is that something has happened to give that man cause to think that he has something he doesn't. If you say a word in reply about the difference between a weyr and a hold, I swear I will walk out and find another place to sleep."
"Then I'll talk with him," Roa says softly, "and make sure he understands what he does and doesn't have." The blankets are tugged up to her neck and she rolls onto her side again, her back to Ashwin. It is perhaps a touch unusual that the queen's side remains vacant still.
"I would not mind so much if the rest of the world understood as well," Ashwin replies, just as quiet. It is a rare exception that he does not roll after her as she turns away. "I told you it wasn't a conversation worth having."
"I know," Roa says softly. "They've said those things about me for a long time. But it was just me, then. I got used to ignoring them, and I didn't think...I'll be more careful. I'm sorry. I know it's awful for you."
Ashwin shakes his head, eyes shut. "Roa, there's not a thing you can do about it. You don't understand, and you won't, and I can't complain. I knew it before I came in." He exhales slowly, shifting until he's more comfortable. "Give me your feet and go to sleep."
"Oh," is Roa's very soft reply. "It's all right. They're warm now." Her feet.
Ashwin smiles, just for an instant, but there's no humour in it. "Then just sleep."
There's the whisper of sheets as she shifts, legs curling up against her chest, chin resting on her knees. There are no further words, so perhaps Roa has done just as Ashwin suggests.
Time: Evening on Day 16, Month 11, Turn 2
Players: Ashwin, D'ven, Roa
Scene: D'ven comes to see Roa, but talks to Ashwin instead (because Roa is talking to R'vain). Roa comes home expecting Ashwin, but talks to D'ven instead. Then Roa and Ashwin talk to each other, and Roa wishes they hadn't, instead.
The technical owner of the weyr is nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that it's coming on to quite late in the evening. Neither Tialith nor Roa are in evidence, but Ashwin is. He's not long home himself, to judge by the fact that his boots and jacket are still strewn across the weyr in his wake. He's made it as far as the weyrwoman's desk, and he's busy peering into a jug that's been abandoned there.
There's the sound of a dragon landing on the ledge, rather large by the sound of things. Perhaps this is Roa. Except for all the ways in which it isn't. From outside, a man's voice floats in. "Honey, I'm home!" D'ven calls out jokingly, clearly in a good mood. He walks in, shaking his head slightly. "Wait till you hear what I..." That's when he sees Ashwin, and trails off. Well, this is awkward.
Ashwin lifts his head briefly, and his features shift, a small, private smile showing briefly. Then D'ven's voice - absolutely not Roa's - rings out, and the smile is gone. So the guard is standing, waiting, when the other man arrives, wearing his usual deadpan expression as a greeting. "Sit down." He speaks quietly, without a twitch of a smile. "Relax, tell me all about your day." A beat. "Darling."
D'ven stays exactly where he is for the moment. "Teraneth just spoke to Tialith...I thought...Roa was expecting me." Wait, that's not a helpful thing to say either. There's a pause, then the bronzerider gets things together. "How about I turn around, go back outside. Then I come back in, and I say 'Hello, is Roa at home?' and you say 'No, I'm afraid not' and I say 'Sorry for disturbing you, please tell her I called'. And then I leave again. Quietly."
Ashwin considers that for a long moment, one hand coming up to scratch along his jawline, where a beard so recently was. Then he tilts his head first left, then right, as though to indicate he's so-so about this proposition. "You're leaving, when there's..." He pauses, tipping another glance sideways, down towards the jug. "Cold klah on offer? She could be back any hour, you know."
"Mostly, I was leaving because I've made a complete hash of meeting you and that was the exact thing I didn't want to do for all sorts of reasons." D'ven replies with a wry smile. "But if you're offering cold klah, I couldn't possibly walk out." He comes further in then, watching the other man thoughtfully.
The man's frank, you've got to give him that. Apparently Ashwin does, for there's a brief, fleeting quirk that might have been something distantly related to a smile. "A man of taste," he murmurs, although the jug is abandoned. "I think we've got something more palatable, actually." He makes no offer of absolution, although he does step away, further back into the weyr, presumably in search of said drink.
D'ven does in fact smile, though it's brief and small. "I'd really appreciate that." There's a glance around at the chairs. "Do you mind if I sit down?" There's a pause. "Besides the obvious, I hope you're well?"
"Please, make yourself..." There's a brief pause before Ashwin presses on, as though he's not unaware of the humour, or the irony in the words that will come next. It would be handy if he gave some indication as to which. "At home," he concludes.
"Thank you." D'ven murmurs, taking a seat and letting out a deep breath. He's just not going to approach the many things held in those words, since Ashwin is giving no sign of how he sees them. The bronzerider starts to say something, then stops. It's probably fairer to let Ashwin set the pace of things.
Ashwin is comfortable with silence, that much is clear. He finds his bottle, he finds a pair of glasses, and walks over quietly to set the pair of them down. There's no sign he feels the weight of any hostly duty try and make conversation. He fills both glasses, stoppers the bottle, and sets it down, all in silence.
D'ven watches as the glasses are filled. "Thanks." He murmurs, letting the silence drift on for a little while longer. "Don't thing I've seen you around, before." He finally offers. "I'm D'ven, bronze Teraneth's." Then he waits, to see if this will go anywhere.
"I was away for a time," Ashwin replies, nudging D'ven's glass closer, then lifting his own. "I know that much, though. Bit hard to get around the place without hearing your name just now, sir." He studies his drink, although he does not lift it to his lips. Instead he looks up, pale eyes fixing on the other man's face. "Ashwin." No title to go with the name - he lacks one, just now.
"Yeah, so I understand. About the hearing my name bit, I mean." D'ven replies, taking up his own glass. "Never thought I'd get sick of people talking about me, but I'm getting there." His eyes meet Ashwin's, and he nods. "Pleasure to meet you, Ashwin." He seems to genuinely mean it, too. There's a pause, then a soft "Heard your name before, too."
Smart man'd probably prefer to hear about other people," Ashwin agrees, continuing his study of the bronzerider's face. "Already knows enough about himself, most likely. And what he doesn't know, he won't learn from hearing folks take bets." He drops his gaze to his glass then, and pauses to drink. "Can't say my name's worth mentioning, sir."
"Please don't call me sir." D'ven smiled wryly, shaking his head. "I may have turns of sir ahead of me. This...doesn't seem like one of those situations where I should be sir." There's a thoughtful pause. "To be honest, all I really want to hear about is it being settled and things moving toward getting better. And I wouldn't say that, about your name I mean."
"As you like, sir," Ashwin murmurs in reply, without a flicker of recognition that he's directly disobeying a request. "Whole weyr's looking forward to settling into something that'll last," he agrees, looking past D'ven for a moment as though to weigh up the bronze dragon who waits on the ledge. As to his own name, no comment.
D'ven smiles slightly at the apparently refusal of his request. "Just wish the waiting would be over." He murmurs, more to himself than Ashwin. "What do you think? About it all, I mean."
"Not for me to say one way or the other," Ashwin replies. He knows, maybe, that this won't be considered enough, for he continues unprompted to add his own quiet opinion to his companion's. "Just wish the waiting would be over," he agrees, borrowing the other man's words.
"Not for you to say." D'ven murmurs, repeating the words to himself thoughtfully, before nodding as he gets the opinion he's looking for. Then there's a lapse into silence, as he studies his companion and their drinks.
"I'm a holder. I didn't grow up knowing about weyrs," Ashwin elaborates into the silence, after a time. "We came here last time there was a leadership change, to try and keep peace. Safe to say we don't know what it looks like when it goes right."
D'ven sighs, though he seems grateful for the elaboration. "The problem is, most people don't. Even those who grow up in one." He muses, peering into his drink. "If it goes right...well, you don't see all the stuff going on behind the scenes unless you're involved with it. So it's just...well, I guess it looks much the same as anywhere else that is going right. Everything that's supposed to get done is done, and most of the people are happy most of the time."
Ashwin is quiet for some time, mulling this theory over. Then he nods slowly, abandoning his study of his drink to resume his study of his visitor, who presumably yields more information. "Then that's how we'll know when it's done," he replies quietly. "Most of the people happy most of the time."
"Then what?" D'ven asks thoughtfully. "I'm guessing you, at least, aren't just planning to go home with the satisfaction of a job well done."
Ah. Good question. So says Ashwin's long pause, and the slow breath he sucks in through his nose. "No, not back to Tillek." He's dropped the 'sir', at least temporarily, although D'ven's name has not made an appearance to compensate. "I'm Reaches, now."
D'ven doesn't attempt to hide the smile that plays across his face at that answer. "Glad to hear it." He replies, peering into his drink for a moment. Then his gaze returns to Ashwin, one of the fingers of his free hand tapping gently against his leg as he considers his next question.
Just look where Ashwin's living - he's used to twenty questions. So he's quiet, lifting his glass for a mouthful of the stuff. He swallows quickly, although without the wince the rough, uncultured drink might merit. "Sometimes easier to see, coming in from outside," he murmurs, a nod indicating that he is aware the bronzerider shares this experience. "Sometimes just harder to tell."
"You mentioned Tillek earlier." D'ven comments, the other's words having enabled him to pick up a new thread. "I'm curious, did you grow up there, or..." There's a thoughtful pause. "What I think I'm getting at, is is this your first time as an outsider, or?"
There's a pause then, and a sharp flicker of Ashwin's gaze, albeit brief. D'ven is assessed for that question, measured, although the guard's eyes settle almost immediately. "No," he replies, after that consideration. "Moved from Reaches Hold to Tillek when I was young."
D'ven nods thoughtfully. There seems to be some sort of exchange going on from his point of view, and he offers up his part without prompting. "This is my fourth place since I left the one I came into this world at."
"Well," Ashwin replies, fairly promptly, given the pauses so far. "There's marks going down says it'll be the last for a while." And what Ashwin thinks of that, he does not say, as blank as ever.
"So I've heard." D'ven remarks with a wry twist of his lips. It's not entirely clear what he thinks of it, either. "Tell you, it puts a whole new perspective on things. Given my job, could be the last one ever." There's a pause as he thinks about that, then apparently decides he won't go down that road. "Been to Tillek." He volunteers after a moment. "Nice place."
"Could be," Ashwin agrees. Don't the two of them just make a fine cheer squad for D'ven's chances? Any more collective enthusiasm and the place would catch fire. "Good place to grow up," he agrees. "Plenty coming and going to watch."
"Yeah, there's...plenty of fine things to watch there." D'ven agrees, a smile playing across his lips for a moment before he returns to more serious contemplation. There's a sip of his drink, he too not making any sort of face.
One brow lifts, which for Ashwin qualifies as a major change in expression. "You've been down to watch more than the ships," he volunteers, the words more a statement than a guess.
D'ven laughs softly. "Absolutely, totally, guilty as charged." He admits without any trace of embarrassment. "Though, I do like looking at the ships too. You know, it's a rare thing that I've never done and would like to, but I've never been on a ship. Never sailed. One of these days, maybe."
"I can't say I recommend it," Ashwin replies blandly, studying his drink. "I'll build them any day, but sailing them I'll leave to other men. World goes up and down in a disconcerting way."
"Still, they're....very graceful. Sleek." D'ven muses with a half-shrug. "I might, if in a suitably soppy mood, go as far to say beautiful. You know how to build them, then?" That apparently has attracted his interest.
Now that draws a glimmer of a smile from Ashwin, a quick flash of good humour. "Wouldn't go saying 'beautiful' to any sailors you might meet on your next visit," he offers by way of advice. "Ship's like a woman. Costs a fortune to dress her up, she's always wrecking her clothes, behaving contrary and there's no guarantee you'll get a thing out of her." A beat, and then he goes on. "I built for a couple of turns, yes."
D'ven smiles at the comparison. "A still is very like a woman too. For much the same reasons." He laughs softly. "But, both of them...you can trust them. They ain't ever going to walk away from you. Always gonna be there for you. I come home, and she's always right where I left her tickin' away." There's fondness in his voice, before he shakes his head and pulls himself back out of the depths. "Must have been interesting work."
"Unless she sinks," Ashwin replies philosophically. "Or blows up." The respective fates of the ship and the still, presumably. "It was work. Shifted along to join the guard, which suited me better."
"Yeah. But there's no malice in her when she does that. She never means no harm. Never wants to hurt you." D'ven smiles slightly, before nodding at the talk of work. "I might have ended up in the guard eventually if things hadn't worked out the way they did. Well, scratch that. With my reputation, I doubt it."
She doesn't use the ledge, which is a shame. If she was with Tialith, and landing on the ledge, Roa might have a clue to whoall was chatting in her weyr. But she comes up the steps and through the little tunnel. The door opens and the dark-haired weyrwoman steps inside to find...blink. She stills in the doorway, one brow hitching upwards at the sight of Ashwin standing and D'ven seated and the two seemingly conversing. It is Ashwin she looks to first, offering a nod and just the barest hint of a smile. Eyes soften, corners crinkle. Then it's gone and she's looking over at D'ven. "This is where you went? Tialith said you were going to visit. I assumed she'd..." Her brows draw down, sudden and sharp. "She didn't tell Teraneth where I was?"
Ashwin nods slowly. "Can't say I'm sure about the ship," he murmurs quietly. "Seemed to take a real delight in my suffering." His drink is nearly gone, and this seems to surprise him, for he's frowning slightly when he looks up to Roa's entrance. There's a brief softening of his expression, an echo of the small smile with which he greeted the sound of Teraneth's landing, and he lifts his chin to beckon her over.
"No, she didn't." D'ven replies, mustering a smile to greet Roa and standing slowly. It just seems the thing to do. "I guess she figured we knew, and I figured since she'd said it was ok you were in. Long story short, I'm lucky I don't have the black eye I probably richly deserve." He then glances between the two of them. "There was some stuff I wanted to talk to you about, but it can wait till morning. Would you two like me to get outta ya home now?"
She's beginning to move towards the pair even before the little chinjerk, but that small gesture has Roa's shoulders relaxing. It's not so much that they were tense before, save that when one compares how they -were- held to how they -are- held, some element of wariness has been dropped. At D'ven's explanation, Roa only shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "She's playing games is what she's doing. I'm not too happy about that. And what did you do to warrant a black eye?" She glances between the rider and the guard then, happy to get an answer from either one. A bit belatedly, "I assume introductions have been made? Don't go running off on my account."
"Did nothing at all," Ashwin replies quietly, no doubt in contradiction to the explanation the other man would offer. There's no marked change in him now that the owner of the weyr has arrived, although the small softening of his expression that greeted her is still in place. "No call to go. I was going to wash anyway. Been training."
"Well, if you're sure." D'ven replies, easing back into his seat. "Oh, I was my usual self Roa. Came down here in a good mood, said something stupid. You know me." Strangely, he doesn't elaborate, perhaps out of respect for Ashwin's choice of explanation.
Her head tilting a bit to the side, Roa has that quizzical expression on her face again. One brow arches upwards, eyes moving between the two men. "Go wash, then," she offers as her attention settles on Ashwin, "Clean clothes are hanging in the bathroom. They ought to be dry by now." D'ven is given another glance. "I am imagining a number of scenarios, each one more horrifying than the last. It would be a kindness to enlighten me with the truth and put my mind at ease."
There's a pause before Ashwin departs, and one might almost think for a moment that his eyes are harboring a smile that's not reaching his mouth. "Not sure it'd ease," he murmurs, reaching out as he passes the queenrider to squeeze her shoulder, and trail one hand across her back as he departs. His words drift back over his shoulder as he disappears through towards the bath. "Might get jealous." And then the door shuts.
"Now Roa, whatever made you think I was a kind man?" D'ven laughs, before relenting. "I called out 'Honey, I'm home'. And then when I saw who was waiting for me, said something about you expecting me." There's a slight shake of his head. Oddly, Ashwin's response goes unmentioned. Growing serious, the bronzerider looks over at Roa. "Went to Ista, a few nights ago."
The touch and the tease are both accepted, and despite the fact that the only thing done to reciprocate is to slightly shift her hand so her fingertips brush Ashwin's knuckles as they trail away, it is clear that for the little exchange, her attention is wholly on the unranked Lieutenant. The last jibe, called over his shoulder, has Roa staring at the ground and struggling to bite back a smile. Then, once he's gone and D'ven is speaking, her focus moves and settles on the bronzerider. This time she -does- laugh. "Oh Faranth, you didn't," but there is only amusement in her voice. Until..."Ista?" She moves over to the bed to sit, mirth exchanged for a sudden focus. "Really." She watches him, waiting for the rest.
D'ven grins, shaking his head at himself. "I did, you know." He replies, returning once again to seriousness. "Yes, Ista." He confirms with a nod. "Know a girl there. Wanted to get away for a bit. Anyway, stuff happened to come up. Turns out that was the first they'd heard of any greenrider. None of theirs had been injured." There's a pause. "Heard a few opinions of S'lien from closer to home, also. Thought you might want to hear."
If the news that the dragon at Telgar was no Ista green is in any way unexpected, Roa's expression does not show it. She only leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and nodding once. At the mention of S'lien, however...there's that tiny flicker or surprise. "Do tell," she encourages.
"Apparently E'sere used to tell someone he was close to that S'lien was cruel and vicious. A bully, who took every chance he had to lord it over him and humiliate him. I'm not sure I'd automatically trust things from that man's mouth, but.." D'ven pauses thoughtfully. "G'thon, who I do trust said he had an enjoyably professional relationship with the man's predecessor. But he couldn't have such a thing with S'lien. Suggested he was cut from the same cloth as I'zul. Called him...what was it...dangerous."
"All of that, hmm?" Roa's hands have laced together and she lifts them to serve as a little shelf on which to rest her chin. "That's quite a description for just one man. I can't say as I knew him particularly well myself. On the other hand, I can't say any of that surprises me at all."
D'ven nods. "All of that." There's a half-shrug. "I'm....well, I'm really not sure about all of this, Roa." He holds his hands up in a fending gesture. "I know, I understand, why we can't just go to J'cor. I'm not going to run off and do anything stupid. But...it feels wrong, Roa."
"Then go to J'cor," is Roa's soft and simple answer. "You heard the rumor. You've been to Ista. You've pieced together enough to have an alternate theory. See J'cor, and tell him. Okay?"
"That's what you want me to do?" D'ven looks up, seeming surprised, as his hands slowly drop. "You said last time that the word of S'lien against a long gone greenrider or a goldrider who was probably just bitter about being transferred, that would quash everything. What makes you think my word can stand?" There's a pause. "I intend to do it, I'm just checking you really think it's the right thing to do." Because apparently that matters.
There's only so long a man can take in the shower before he's just finding excuses to be somewhere else, and Ashwin's reached his limit. Steam wafts out as the door opens, the man's hair damp, the promised clean clothes discovered and donned. Still, a few moments more are allowed for private conversation, for he doesn't move to join the pair again immediately, but rather walks over to collect his jacket where it was initially dropped, to hang it beside Roa's.
"Because you're unrelated. You're not from Telgar. You're not a greenrider. You run with a group that's known to be staunchly traditional, so it's not likely you'll be thought to sympathize with this rumored instigator captive. You're a rider at Reaches, and you're concerned. The rumor did it's job." Roa's lips lift in a tiny smile. "Take the candle, D'ven. Start a fire." Her eyes flick over as the door opens and steam and Ashwin waft out, but her posture remains the same and there's no particular indication she means for the discussion to end.
"And I can genuinely say people have come to me with concerns about this, because at least one person, besides you of course, has." D'ven blinks for a moment. "You knew all along this would happen. You meant for me to do this." There's a slight shake of his head. "And here I thought being partners meant we didn't play one another." Her tiny smiles gets an answering one, however, so he's clearly not really annoyed. "Fine. Just remember you get to bandage my wounds if I burn myself." And then Ashwin has arrived, and the bronzerider seems to have finished.
Ashwin gives no sign that he registers that the conversation has stopped. The jacket is snagged, and he turns to pad back and retrieve his boots where they were discarded. He pauses in stooping for them, and then looks up, gaze blank and voice even. "Might go down to the kitchens, see about something small to eat," he offers quietly.
"I knew," Roa murmurs, looking back to D'ven. "And I'm sorry about that," although she doesn't sound it. "It had to be true enough to pass muster. Whoever went to J'cor had to mean what they'd say. I trust you to do it right, but that meant..." one hand lifts and she shrugs. "You sent me off on a roundabout journey not so long ago. So, perhaps this is fair payment. We both got what we wanted in the end. That doesn't always mean we went the right way to get there. In this case, I think I did." Her eyes slide over to Ashwin and she says, simply, "If you're hungry. No other reason, excepting that, that you need to leave."
D'ven's lips twist in amusement. "I did, you're right. Though, I think I went the right way about that too. We'll call it equal, then. Just don't do it again." There's something gentle in his chiding, that says he knows she will and doesn't really mind. He too turns to look over Ashwin, nodding agreement with the woman. "No need for you to go unless you want to."
Ashwin is still for a moment, studying the pair. Then he breathes in through his nose, long and slow, and stands, stomping his way into his boots. "Reckon I am." He was blank before, but polite. Now something's closed off, behind those pale blue eyes. He stoops to tie off rough knots, enough only to keep his boots from coming off entirely. Then he offers the visiting bronzerider a polite nod, and turns to depart.
A tiny smirk at the bronzerider's chastisement. "Well," Roa murmurs, "You know me." And then another glance towards Ashwin and something in what he's doing has that faint smile vanishing and her hands lowering to clasp in her lap. "I, um...maybe we'd better call it a night, D'ven."
D'ven follows Roa's gaze. "Yeah, maybe we'd better." He agrees, sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere. "I've got to, go...work to do. Need to think about what exactly I'm going to say to J'cor." Even as he's standing, and heading towards the ledge, the bronzerider can't resist a quip. "He's going to hate me. Every time I turn up in his office, I've got trouble for him. Usually involving criminals. He's gonna start calling me Harper Hixon if I'm not careful." There's a shake of his head, and then he's out onto the ledge. How fast can a man mount a dragon and get airborne? Time to find out.
Roa stands to watch D'ven leave, going to far as to walk to the opening that leads out to the ledge. Her brows shoot high and she blinks at that quip. "You read Harper Hixon mysteries?" But her hand lifts in a wave to send the bronzerider off, so perhaps she doesn't really expect an answer.
There is no answer, no acknowledgment of her wave. Merely a sudden flurry of movement as a rather distracted D'ven urges his bronze back to their ledge as fast as Teraneth's wings can carry them.
Is there a socially correct amount of time to absent oneself, in a situation such as this? If so, Ashwin hasn't read the etiquette book, nor had the benefit of the Caucus class, so he chooses a quarter of an hour as being about right. He's silent when he returns, easing the door shut behind him, although that might just be because his mouth's full, presumably of some of the bread roll he's holding.
And just like that, their roles have been reversed. It's Ashwin returning from somewhere and Roa lying on the bed, hands behind her head, blinking up at the ceiling. Her head turns at the sound of the door opening and she offers the usual greeting. "Hey." Tialith is still absent.
His boots, for the first time in a very long time, lack the complicated network of knots that drive her up the wall. This means he can kick them off with relative ease, and he does so, walking around in silence to his side of the bed, setting the last of his snack down on the table so he can begin unbuttoning his shirt. "Hey." It's not an inviting greeting.
Roa only watches as he moves, but she remains in the same position. The toes on one foot curl tightly against the sole and then relax again. "I messed something up," she deduces. "But I don't know how. What happened?"
Ashwin sniffs inelegantly, getting his shirt unbuttoned enough to haul it over his head, and this he does. "I'm not a Caucus class," he replies in a mutter. "You don't need to pick me apart afterwards to see what happened."
"You're annoyed," Roa offers reasonably. Or, at least, calmly. Her other foot repeats the gesture, toes clenching into a 'fist' and releasing. "I made you annoyed. I'd like to know how so I don't do it again."
"You're going to do it again, it's fine." Ashwin undresses quietly then, and it's only a minute before he's climbing into bed beside her, to flop on his back so that they lie parallel. He stares up, as though the ceiling has something to offer. "Let it lie."
"It's not fine," she mutters softly, but then Roa is pushing up into a sit and inching off the bed to head to the wardrobe. Her sleeping clothes of a tank top and light, baggy, cotton trousers are pulled down. She peels out of her daily garb and tugs the new clothes on. Socks are kicked off and she skitters back to bed to pull frigid feet under the covers. She looses her bun into a long braid, but doesn't bother to unwind her hair any further.
Ashwin, fairly unsurprisingly, lifts his head the inch or two required to track her with his eyes, and keeps her in his sight as she undresses, then dons her pajamas. As she climbs back into bed, he sucks a long, slow breath in through his nose, then shifts to fold a hand behind his head. "Warm your feet up." His customary invitation lacks something, tonight.
The weyrwoman sinks further under the covers, pulling them up to her shoulders. This, it seems, is her plan for warming her feet, because she doesn't move any closer to the other person in the bed. "You're doing a pretty dismal job of convincing me I don't need to poke, Ash." Her head lifts a bit and her shoulders twist so she can peer over at him.
"Just told you there's no need," Ashwin replies, comfortably settled now and staring up at the ceiling. "Or there's no want, if you like it that way better. You don't have to fix it all."
"I want. You don't." But that's rather obvious, so Roa quiets again. Her fingers tap lightly on the covers as she lowers back onto her other side. She positions herself so she can watch him stare upwards. "This is important. If things turn out a certain way, he's going to be around a lot. I don't want that to mean nights of you staring at the ceiling."
"Well, there's something to look forward to," Ashwin mutters, testy at best. Which is, within a certain frame of reference, an improvement on blank. "There's no talking around this, you should let it lie. I trust you, all right?"
She pushes up onto one elbow so she looks down at him as well as over. "Ash," and now her own voice is a touch irritated, "if Tia goes up first, someone is going to be around a lot. I want it to be D'ven. Who would you rather?" Her head cants to the side. "Not my place to say," she offers his answer for him. "So you'll glower at the ceiling instead."
"I'll tell you what's my place to say," Ashwin retorts, eyes firmly on the ceiling. "I'll say that I'd rather it if he didn't think it was /his/ place to come bounding in here as though he's the one who's your mate. I'd /rather/ he didn't tell me I'm welcome to stay in my own home."
"He didn't mean it like that. I thought you were trying to be polite. I didn't realize you were leaving because you wanted to. He offered to let you stay because you offered to leave. You invited yourself out. It was a question. We each answered. I'll be more careful, next time." Roa blinks slowly, inhaling a deep breath. "And I won't have him come here any more. But that means I go there. Frankly, that looks worse to those who are watching."
No answer to that, although he matches her breath in. "There was a reason I didn't want to talk about this," he replies, very quiet indeed.
"There's a reason I did," Roa counters. "Let's hear yours, first."
Ashwin's first reply is an inarticulate groan of protest, his free hand coming up to scrub at his face. "Fuck, you always get your way on this." The words are only half audible through that hand, perhaps as intended. "I was leaving because I wasn't in the mood to watch you gaze into each other's eyes, right? I really don't care what the reason is."
There is a moment of silence before Roa speaks. "You want to know why I gaze into his eyes, Ash? You want to know why we're such good friends?" Just a gentle emphasis on that last word. "Hmm?"
"No, I do not." Ashwin's retort is prompt, dark. "That's what you're failing to understand here. What I want is for you not to gaze into his eyes at all. I don't want your list of reasons. We both know it's an argument I'll lose."
"It's because," as if he'd actually wanted to know, "when he and Aida and I brought our suspicions about E'sere to J'cor, he's the one that pegged Aivey. I don't know that we would have caught her, else. She was the key to bringing you and Jensen home. Trial by fire." Perhaps Roa's arm aches because she flops down, rolling onto her back. "Can't help but see a friend in him, after that. That is, you know, all I see. I've always been friends with boys. It's just never mattered before."
"Then remind me to thank him some day for the debt I owe him," Ashwin replies, voice quieting, returning to his more usual, reserved murmur. "I'll ask him if he's worked out a way to have you take any heed at all of what he wants."
There's a very faint smile. "He hasn't. In fact, I've probably done worse to his head than I do to yours. Sort of sad, isn't it, when you're the lucky one?" Roa's quiet for a while before noting, "If Tia goes first...truth is, whoever catches, it's going to be more than just a business relationship. It has to be. This place is a mess, and it's going to take a lot to fix it. I'm going to form a relationship if I'm the one doing it alongside some Weyrleader. It won't change what we have, but it will be a friendship. Or something along those lines. You probably didn't want to hear that."
Ashwin is quiet for quite some time then, eyes slowly closing. He does speak eventually. Rather with the air of a man summoning great patience. "You think," he murmurs, "that I, of all men, have no understanding of unusual friendships? That is not the problem."
It takes a moment. She turns her head to peer over at Ashwin with her brows faintly furrowed. But then...oh!...the glows brighten and understanding comes. "A fair point," Roa concedes with a soft chuckle. "Tell me the problem, again then. I still don't understand."
"The problem," Ashwin offers quietly - suddenly devoid of his irritation, and his displeasure, "is that something has happened to give that man cause to think that he has something he doesn't. If you say a word in reply about the difference between a weyr and a hold, I swear I will walk out and find another place to sleep."
"Then I'll talk with him," Roa says softly, "and make sure he understands what he does and doesn't have." The blankets are tugged up to her neck and she rolls onto her side again, her back to Ashwin. It is perhaps a touch unusual that the queen's side remains vacant still.
"I would not mind so much if the rest of the world understood as well," Ashwin replies, just as quiet. It is a rare exception that he does not roll after her as she turns away. "I told you it wasn't a conversation worth having."
"I know," Roa says softly. "They've said those things about me for a long time. But it was just me, then. I got used to ignoring them, and I didn't think...I'll be more careful. I'm sorry. I know it's awful for you."
Ashwin shakes his head, eyes shut. "Roa, there's not a thing you can do about it. You don't understand, and you won't, and I can't complain. I knew it before I came in." He exhales slowly, shifting until he's more comfortable. "Give me your feet and go to sleep."
"Oh," is Roa's very soft reply. "It's all right. They're warm now." Her feet.
Ashwin smiles, just for an instant, but there's no humour in it. "Then just sleep."
There's the whisper of sheets as she shifts, legs curling up against her chest, chin resting on her knees. There are no further words, so perhaps Roa has done just as Ashwin suggests.