Night Terror
Location: East Weyr
Time: Wee hours of Day 19, Month 9, Turn 2
Players: Roa, Ashwin, Tialith
Scene: Roa gets nightmares. Ashwin scares her more when she wakes up.
He's only had a few nights to sleep with her, and he's restless still - he wakes frequently, lifting his head and blinking into the darkness in an attempt to work out where he is, why the bed is so soft, perhaps why he cannot hear the ocean, the trees, or other men snoring softly. Then, each time, he'll work it out, smile softly, and wrap an arm around her, sinking down into the pillows once more. His last waking was an hour ago, and just now he's on his side, one hand out to rest on her hip, breathing deep and slow.
She usually sleeps more deeply. She knows where she is, if the experience of having him with her remains new, so although her physical presence may be a reminder for him, she is rarely awake to ease him back to sleep. She is pliant in the night, her body loose and relaxed in a way it never is when she's awake. Not even after lovemaking. Tonight, she's on her side, half curled, and the first sign that something is different is only a slow tightening and tensing of muscles.
Even asleep, he's alert to that. It takes him nearly half a minute to come awake, but - without knowing why - at the end of that time Ashwin blinks into consciousness. He frowns faintly, fingers splaying across her even as he lifts his head. A watcher might say he was checking the identity of his partner, as much as his surroundings. His response time is growing shorter, though, and he settles his head back down, fingers curling around to the front of her hip to give one of the tugs that are usually so effective in bringing her in to loll against him.
This time, however, the tug has opposite the desired effect and she twists forward and away with a sharp gasp, her body jerking into a tight ball and shaking. There is a faint sound, a soft and distressed 'mmh' that makes it past her lips. Even her bad dreams are mostly discreet.
Ashwin doesn't respond immediately, or quickly. He takes his time in propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at her in the very faint light that's available in the weyr, frowning his concern. One calloused hand goes out so he can run a finger down her spine, then back up, curving it around her shoulder to hold her gently. He leans down to press a kiss to her arm, beside where his hand rests.
There's more twisting at the touches, those gentle attempts to soothe, and her breath is coming in small and frantic gasps. The agitation increases and the tightening of her muscles has turned her into a tiny, curled mass of tension. Each touch has her wrenching away and recurling up tight, her face shoved into her knees. The final sign that all is not right is that on her side of the weyr, Tialith has slowly opened a single eye that whirls at a slightly increased speed and is a blue several shades lighter than normal.
Tialith's eye provides a little extra light, and Ashwin's head turns slowly so he can look at the queen - if he does not know what the difference in shade means, he can at least register it. There's concern in his expression, but his reaction is slow. By nature and by training, he takes his time to assess a problem, with no trace of panic. A decision has been made now, though, and his hand closes more firmly over her shoulder, to shake. "Roa." Then louder, "Roa, wake up."
"nnnh..." a faint noise from her, and at first his voice seems to exacerbate the problem. She coils tighter, shakes harder, but then, suddenly, it stops. For a beat, Roa is still, and then she is pushing herself up into a sit, her back to Ashwin, one hand coming up to cover her eyes as she catches her breath. The tension of her muscles in sleep results in a residual sort of trembling now. The queen's eye lids again and that single sign of wakefulness disappears.
Ashwin pushes up so that he sits as well, shifting across so he can fit his front to her back, one hand bracing him up, the other curving around to rest on her stomach. The advantage of their relative sizes - he can lean in to rest his chin on her shoulder easily, tilt his head sideways to press a kiss to her temple. "It's nothing, you're safe." The words are a hoarse, sleepy murmur. "Tialith's here. I'm here."
Roa leans back against him with a slow, shuddering sigh, and one hand, the one that was over her eyes, reaches back, fumbling to touch his cheek. It's dark and she's turned away so she ends up sort of missing, hand splaying over his nose, chin, and mouth, but she twists around carefully to press her forehead against his shoulder, and her hand corrects itself. "You okay?" Her own voice is a bit hoarse and she clears her throat after the question.
He kisses her fingers as they brush his mouth, more comfortable with displays like this when the darkness shelters him. His arm loosens to let her turn, gathering her in against him. "I'm fine," he murmurs, breath warm by her ear. "Say it out loud, get the idea outside of your head before you go back to sleep."
"Won't help," she murmurs against his skin. "I will if you want me to, but it won't help." Roa's hand slides from his cheek to his shoulder, curling there and squeezing as her other hand does the same to his other shoulder. "Just tell me again that you're all right."
"I'm here," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to her temple. "I'm all right." As though he'd prove his point with his strength, he tenses his arms, muscle shifting under her arms where she holds her shoulders. Then, a faint smile in his voice, "I'll prove I'm all right, if you like. Chase your dream away."
A tiny laugh meets that last. "Well now I -know- you're all right," she chides, and her hand shifts on his right shoulder so she can poke him with her index finger. She inches closer, if that's possible, to just wrap her arms around him and squeeze. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "This happens regularly. Sorry."
Ashwin makes an inarticulate grumbling noise at that poke, but he obliges immediately, shifting so he can lift that hand that's bracing himself against the bed, and wrap both around her, squeezing briefly in return. "That mean I get to be here to see it regularly?"
"You doubted?" Roa lifts her head and turns to settle a kiss on his cheek. Or wherever her lips contact first, really. In the darkness, aim is imprecise. "You're always welcome." There's a small pause and now a faint smile can be heard in her own tone. "You can even put your boots in the wardrobe, if you like."
Perhaps it's not a conversation he'd usually willingly have - and even now, she draws hesitation, and he swallows - but in the darkness comes anonymity, and tonight he's seeking to comfort her. "That's a large sort of an invitation." Then, the sound of a smile in his own voice. "Or perhaps you're just neat."
She leans forward, hands pressing onto his shoulders, her fingers guiding him onto his back. Truthfully, Roa hasn't the bulk to pull such a move off without his assistance, so perhaps she simply trusts that if she indicates, he'll comply. It's not until he's lying down and she's leaning over him, her hair tickling his arms and chest, her breath fanning softly against his lips, that she replies in a whisper. "Perhaps both."
He eases back obligingly, his arms unwrapping from around her, fingers trailing over her shoulders and down her arms. Then he lifts his hands to fold them behind his head, looking up to the faint silhouette she makes in the dark. Perhaps his smile will be visible, or audible in his murmur. "Look at me here." The words are soft. "Weyrwoman's weyr. How did this happen?"
She pauses to nip lightly, once, at his lower lip once he finishes speaking. Her answer is soft and simple. "You blush. Remember?"
"How could I forget?" His voice is wry, tone more relaxed than it has been since he returned. Briefly, his arms tense, as though he's preparing to drag them out from behind his head, but they remain. "I went to see my Ma the other day."
"Mmmm." Roa's head lowers so she can kiss her way along the side of his throat with a quick detour to nibble at his earlobe. Her hands, still curled around his shoulders, loosen now so fingers can trail down his chest. "That where you went?" The interest is mild, her thoughts only halfway on the conversation.
Ashwin nearly loses interest in the conversation as well at this point, eyes closing for a moment as he exhales slowly at her attentions. "That's where I went," he confirms, distracted. Nevertheless, he presses on. "Told her I had a girl." Which is more than he was confirming to Roa at the time.
Her lips still, briefly, for just a moment at this news. "Oh?" But then they resume, kisses languidly peppering his collar bone. Her fingers trail up his sides and then curl so blunted nails graze gently against his skin as she drags them down again.
"Mmmm," Ashwin confirms, silent for a moment. He draws in one of his slow, steadying breaths through his nose, locating the words with which to continue. "We bring our girls home, where I grew up. She's expecting you." He's responding to her touch, and if his hands stay still, one leg reaches up to pull her in against him.
Aaaand...she freezes. For a moment, Roa goes completely still, lips on his skin, hand on his side. Then her head tips and it's her forehead pressing against his chest. "Oh. Ash." The tone is one somebody might use if they came upon a five-turn-old standing besides a broken vase and looking woeful. A sort of 'I-know-you-didn't-mean-it-but-I-really-wish-you-hadn't' tone.
She's stopped. His eyes open, and he lifts his head from his hands for a moment so he can glance down at where she's leaning on his chest. "That's a problem?" Faint surprise in his voice, still no more than a murmur.
"What could I possibly say to your Ma?" Roa’s fingers squeeze his sides lightly, and her forehead remains pressed against his chest. "Hi, pleased to meet you, I'm the girl. From a weyr, so my morals are all screwy. Oh, and I'm a rider so I'll be cheating on him regularly and also, even if we ever wanted to, there's no possibility of us getting married, so we'll be a constant affront to your holder sensibilities. Oh, and also, I'm a weyrwoman which means I outrank him, and oh, right, my father's the man who terrorized Pern for several turns a ways back. How are you ma'am?"
Silence, for a little, and then Ashwin murmurs a reply, head still lifted slightly so he can watch her where she's slumped over his chest. "Well, we could leave your father out of it, for now," he murmurs. Sounding, if anything, amused. "The rest of it, I think we'll be fine."
There is a small and unhappy groan, her breath blowing warm against his skin. "She'll hate me," Roa whispers, head shaking slowly from side to side. "Can't I squirm out of this? Weyr duties or...something? I could break my leg again?" She sounds a mite hopeful at that last.
"Squirm up here," Ashwin instructs her, amusement now definitely audible in his own whisper. "You're not breaking anything. If you don't want to go a second time, I'll catch another lift next time."
Another small groan and then the sound of sheets moving as Roa complies. Sort of. Since her interpretation of 'squirming up here' is settling herself fully on top of him, chest against chest, legs on legs, arms propping her up enough that she can peer down at the shape he makes in the dark. "I visit your Ma," she agrees a touch unhappily, "and you start parking your boots in the wardrobe. Deal?"
No complaint from Ashwin, who hooks a leg around her to keep her in place. "Deal," he agrees simply. Perhaps he didn't expect it to be this easy. Perhaps he's not considering what he's agreeing to.
A soft sigh and then a slow and lazy kiss. The sort that lets her explore his lips and mouth, taste him at her leisure. So, it's rather a long while before she murmurs, "When's this happening, then?"
All of this is a definite improvement on her nightmare, so Ashwin prolongs the kiss, lifting his head briefly to chase after her when she finally withdraws. His smile is in his voice as one hand finally unfolds from behind his head, coming up to trail down her back slowly. "We'll go tomorrow. Less time for you to fret." And that's the day he promised. Sshh.
"To-" Roa can't even finish the word, she's so shocked. It might be argued that she's simply exchanged one nightmare for another. "I'm getting even," she promises with a slight shifting of her hips against his. "I am so very very getting even with you." When her lips find his this time, there is something a bit harsher there. More forceful. She's learned from him, after all.
"Really?" Ashwin's courting danger, employing that teasing tone, the threat of laughter in his quiet voice. "Now there's something to look forward to." His hips press up into hers, ever optimistic, and his hand tightens on her as she leans down for that kiss.
Time: Wee hours of Day 19, Month 9, Turn 2
Players: Roa, Ashwin, Tialith
Scene: Roa gets nightmares. Ashwin scares her more when she wakes up.
He's only had a few nights to sleep with her, and he's restless still - he wakes frequently, lifting his head and blinking into the darkness in an attempt to work out where he is, why the bed is so soft, perhaps why he cannot hear the ocean, the trees, or other men snoring softly. Then, each time, he'll work it out, smile softly, and wrap an arm around her, sinking down into the pillows once more. His last waking was an hour ago, and just now he's on his side, one hand out to rest on her hip, breathing deep and slow.
She usually sleeps more deeply. She knows where she is, if the experience of having him with her remains new, so although her physical presence may be a reminder for him, she is rarely awake to ease him back to sleep. She is pliant in the night, her body loose and relaxed in a way it never is when she's awake. Not even after lovemaking. Tonight, she's on her side, half curled, and the first sign that something is different is only a slow tightening and tensing of muscles.
Even asleep, he's alert to that. It takes him nearly half a minute to come awake, but - without knowing why - at the end of that time Ashwin blinks into consciousness. He frowns faintly, fingers splaying across her even as he lifts his head. A watcher might say he was checking the identity of his partner, as much as his surroundings. His response time is growing shorter, though, and he settles his head back down, fingers curling around to the front of her hip to give one of the tugs that are usually so effective in bringing her in to loll against him.
This time, however, the tug has opposite the desired effect and she twists forward and away with a sharp gasp, her body jerking into a tight ball and shaking. There is a faint sound, a soft and distressed 'mmh' that makes it past her lips. Even her bad dreams are mostly discreet.
Ashwin doesn't respond immediately, or quickly. He takes his time in propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at her in the very faint light that's available in the weyr, frowning his concern. One calloused hand goes out so he can run a finger down her spine, then back up, curving it around her shoulder to hold her gently. He leans down to press a kiss to her arm, beside where his hand rests.
There's more twisting at the touches, those gentle attempts to soothe, and her breath is coming in small and frantic gasps. The agitation increases and the tightening of her muscles has turned her into a tiny, curled mass of tension. Each touch has her wrenching away and recurling up tight, her face shoved into her knees. The final sign that all is not right is that on her side of the weyr, Tialith has slowly opened a single eye that whirls at a slightly increased speed and is a blue several shades lighter than normal.
Tialith's eye provides a little extra light, and Ashwin's head turns slowly so he can look at the queen - if he does not know what the difference in shade means, he can at least register it. There's concern in his expression, but his reaction is slow. By nature and by training, he takes his time to assess a problem, with no trace of panic. A decision has been made now, though, and his hand closes more firmly over her shoulder, to shake. "Roa." Then louder, "Roa, wake up."
"nnnh..." a faint noise from her, and at first his voice seems to exacerbate the problem. She coils tighter, shakes harder, but then, suddenly, it stops. For a beat, Roa is still, and then she is pushing herself up into a sit, her back to Ashwin, one hand coming up to cover her eyes as she catches her breath. The tension of her muscles in sleep results in a residual sort of trembling now. The queen's eye lids again and that single sign of wakefulness disappears.
Ashwin pushes up so that he sits as well, shifting across so he can fit his front to her back, one hand bracing him up, the other curving around to rest on her stomach. The advantage of their relative sizes - he can lean in to rest his chin on her shoulder easily, tilt his head sideways to press a kiss to her temple. "It's nothing, you're safe." The words are a hoarse, sleepy murmur. "Tialith's here. I'm here."
Roa leans back against him with a slow, shuddering sigh, and one hand, the one that was over her eyes, reaches back, fumbling to touch his cheek. It's dark and she's turned away so she ends up sort of missing, hand splaying over his nose, chin, and mouth, but she twists around carefully to press her forehead against his shoulder, and her hand corrects itself. "You okay?" Her own voice is a bit hoarse and she clears her throat after the question.
He kisses her fingers as they brush his mouth, more comfortable with displays like this when the darkness shelters him. His arm loosens to let her turn, gathering her in against him. "I'm fine," he murmurs, breath warm by her ear. "Say it out loud, get the idea outside of your head before you go back to sleep."
"Won't help," she murmurs against his skin. "I will if you want me to, but it won't help." Roa's hand slides from his cheek to his shoulder, curling there and squeezing as her other hand does the same to his other shoulder. "Just tell me again that you're all right."
"I'm here," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to her temple. "I'm all right." As though he'd prove his point with his strength, he tenses his arms, muscle shifting under her arms where she holds her shoulders. Then, a faint smile in his voice, "I'll prove I'm all right, if you like. Chase your dream away."
A tiny laugh meets that last. "Well now I -know- you're all right," she chides, and her hand shifts on his right shoulder so she can poke him with her index finger. She inches closer, if that's possible, to just wrap her arms around him and squeeze. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "This happens regularly. Sorry."
Ashwin makes an inarticulate grumbling noise at that poke, but he obliges immediately, shifting so he can lift that hand that's bracing himself against the bed, and wrap both around her, squeezing briefly in return. "That mean I get to be here to see it regularly?"
"You doubted?" Roa lifts her head and turns to settle a kiss on his cheek. Or wherever her lips contact first, really. In the darkness, aim is imprecise. "You're always welcome." There's a small pause and now a faint smile can be heard in her own tone. "You can even put your boots in the wardrobe, if you like."
Perhaps it's not a conversation he'd usually willingly have - and even now, she draws hesitation, and he swallows - but in the darkness comes anonymity, and tonight he's seeking to comfort her. "That's a large sort of an invitation." Then, the sound of a smile in his own voice. "Or perhaps you're just neat."
She leans forward, hands pressing onto his shoulders, her fingers guiding him onto his back. Truthfully, Roa hasn't the bulk to pull such a move off without his assistance, so perhaps she simply trusts that if she indicates, he'll comply. It's not until he's lying down and she's leaning over him, her hair tickling his arms and chest, her breath fanning softly against his lips, that she replies in a whisper. "Perhaps both."
He eases back obligingly, his arms unwrapping from around her, fingers trailing over her shoulders and down her arms. Then he lifts his hands to fold them behind his head, looking up to the faint silhouette she makes in the dark. Perhaps his smile will be visible, or audible in his murmur. "Look at me here." The words are soft. "Weyrwoman's weyr. How did this happen?"
She pauses to nip lightly, once, at his lower lip once he finishes speaking. Her answer is soft and simple. "You blush. Remember?"
"How could I forget?" His voice is wry, tone more relaxed than it has been since he returned. Briefly, his arms tense, as though he's preparing to drag them out from behind his head, but they remain. "I went to see my Ma the other day."
"Mmmm." Roa's head lowers so she can kiss her way along the side of his throat with a quick detour to nibble at his earlobe. Her hands, still curled around his shoulders, loosen now so fingers can trail down his chest. "That where you went?" The interest is mild, her thoughts only halfway on the conversation.
Ashwin nearly loses interest in the conversation as well at this point, eyes closing for a moment as he exhales slowly at her attentions. "That's where I went," he confirms, distracted. Nevertheless, he presses on. "Told her I had a girl." Which is more than he was confirming to Roa at the time.
Her lips still, briefly, for just a moment at this news. "Oh?" But then they resume, kisses languidly peppering his collar bone. Her fingers trail up his sides and then curl so blunted nails graze gently against his skin as she drags them down again.
"Mmmm," Ashwin confirms, silent for a moment. He draws in one of his slow, steadying breaths through his nose, locating the words with which to continue. "We bring our girls home, where I grew up. She's expecting you." He's responding to her touch, and if his hands stay still, one leg reaches up to pull her in against him.
Aaaand...she freezes. For a moment, Roa goes completely still, lips on his skin, hand on his side. Then her head tips and it's her forehead pressing against his chest. "Oh. Ash." The tone is one somebody might use if they came upon a five-turn-old standing besides a broken vase and looking woeful. A sort of 'I-know-you-didn't-mean-it-but-I-really-wish-you-hadn't' tone.
She's stopped. His eyes open, and he lifts his head from his hands for a moment so he can glance down at where she's leaning on his chest. "That's a problem?" Faint surprise in his voice, still no more than a murmur.
"What could I possibly say to your Ma?" Roa’s fingers squeeze his sides lightly, and her forehead remains pressed against his chest. "Hi, pleased to meet you, I'm the girl. From a weyr, so my morals are all screwy. Oh, and I'm a rider so I'll be cheating on him regularly and also, even if we ever wanted to, there's no possibility of us getting married, so we'll be a constant affront to your holder sensibilities. Oh, and also, I'm a weyrwoman which means I outrank him, and oh, right, my father's the man who terrorized Pern for several turns a ways back. How are you ma'am?"
Silence, for a little, and then Ashwin murmurs a reply, head still lifted slightly so he can watch her where she's slumped over his chest. "Well, we could leave your father out of it, for now," he murmurs. Sounding, if anything, amused. "The rest of it, I think we'll be fine."
There is a small and unhappy groan, her breath blowing warm against his skin. "She'll hate me," Roa whispers, head shaking slowly from side to side. "Can't I squirm out of this? Weyr duties or...something? I could break my leg again?" She sounds a mite hopeful at that last.
"Squirm up here," Ashwin instructs her, amusement now definitely audible in his own whisper. "You're not breaking anything. If you don't want to go a second time, I'll catch another lift next time."
Another small groan and then the sound of sheets moving as Roa complies. Sort of. Since her interpretation of 'squirming up here' is settling herself fully on top of him, chest against chest, legs on legs, arms propping her up enough that she can peer down at the shape he makes in the dark. "I visit your Ma," she agrees a touch unhappily, "and you start parking your boots in the wardrobe. Deal?"
No complaint from Ashwin, who hooks a leg around her to keep her in place. "Deal," he agrees simply. Perhaps he didn't expect it to be this easy. Perhaps he's not considering what he's agreeing to.
A soft sigh and then a slow and lazy kiss. The sort that lets her explore his lips and mouth, taste him at her leisure. So, it's rather a long while before she murmurs, "When's this happening, then?"
All of this is a definite improvement on her nightmare, so Ashwin prolongs the kiss, lifting his head briefly to chase after her when she finally withdraws. His smile is in his voice as one hand finally unfolds from behind his head, coming up to trail down her back slowly. "We'll go tomorrow. Less time for you to fret." And that's the day he promised. Sshh.
"To-" Roa can't even finish the word, she's so shocked. It might be argued that she's simply exchanged one nightmare for another. "I'm getting even," she promises with a slight shifting of her hips against his. "I am so very very getting even with you." When her lips find his this time, there is something a bit harsher there. More forceful. She's learned from him, after all.
"Really?" Ashwin's courting danger, employing that teasing tone, the threat of laughter in his quiet voice. "Now there's something to look forward to." His hips press up into hers, ever optimistic, and his hand tightens on her as she leans down for that kiss.