==== June 16, 2013
==== A'lory, Sara
==== A long walk on the lake shore is just what budding love needs.

Who A'lory, Sara
What A long walk on the lake shore is just what budding love needs.
When It is afternoon. It is 3:51 PM where you are. There is 1 turn 11 months and 24 days until the 12th pass.
Where Lake



The crystalline focus of the westward stretch of Igen's activity chases frequent, colorful sunsets that sprawl over sparkling azure waters, throwing back Rukbat's brilliance in breathtaking pyrotechnic displays. Clean, crisp waters run still and deep, providing a transparent view of Weyr Lake's aquatic residents and their rocky home below with startling clarity, right down to the tiniest pebble. The glasslike qualities grow murky, however, near southern shores and the inevitability of runoff from the pens and their occupants. To the north, streams flow in a controlled rush downwards into the dark depths of the water caverns, the constant babble echoing through the neighboring ruins of Igen's abandoned complexes, disturbing naught but the tunnelsnakes that call that area 'home'.
It is Winter and 37 degrees. It is cloudy.

Crouched just out of reach of the sluggish morning tide, one lone slim man is reflecting on the strange turn of events in the night — had she really kissed him? The thrill of it has left A'lory stunned — and unsure — of what, precisely, to do next: obviously, all his plans are laid to waste in the blink of an eye and the meeting of lips in the dank and dirty Stores. Sara. She'd wanted to kiss /him/ all this time. Dressed for warmth, he has no interest in the chill off the lake; indeed, he's tossing small stones found on the beach into the water.

Sara dressed in what looks like on-loan cold weather clothing picks her way across the lake shore, setting her feet carefully to avoid getting water on her shoes that look not at all ready for the cold air they're being subjected to. Her face, partially hidden by an old hat and her hair shows some signs of a sleepless night. Slowly though, she makes her way towards the man on the shore, "A'lory?" Her voice is hesitant. She is almost competently sure the day before was not a dream- the dust stains on her dress being indication enough of that. But a night is a long time, and Sara's logical mind is having a sore argument with her heart over what should have happened.

A'lory turns atthe sound of her step, squinting a little — wait, is he getting old? No way — as a stray curl drops against his eye. Pushing it away with a sniff of annoyance for its intrusion, he pushes himself upright and faces her, all wrapped up like a small bear against the winter. "Sara." His own voice is low, though no less hesitant. What a night! "How fare you, little one?"

Sara stops a few paces away, carefully out of arms reach, and examines the bronze rider before her. The hesitency in his voice seems to confirm her worst fears that last night was simply hasty action and today would bring reality back to the fore. "Well enough, bronze rider, a bit cold today to be here by the lake." The weather was a safe topic wasn't it?

Oh, well played, says the wry twist of A'lory's mouth, the brief upward cant of his eyebrows; he might even be laughing at her, though in that comradely way one does when one is feeling the same sort of sudden shyness. "Keeps me from getting too excited." Tucking his hands into the pockets of his riding jacket, he rocks back and forth, still watching her with that lazy amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Helps me think clearly." Perhaps it's best not to ask precisely what his thoughts are, though — those led to dangerous actions the night before. Instead of broaching that subject, he tilts his head at her, asking in all innocence — genuine innocence — "Are you warm enough?"

Oh the confusion the Harper is feeling! Talk of the weather and clothing will do just the trick to cover it up. She manages a smile to match his own, "I've heard that cold will do that," Sara manages to say, her mind telling her to just be cool. This is A'lory after all. Then to answer his question, she looks down at her illclad feet, "A little cold, I seem to have packed," who is she kidding? She didn't pack at all! "poorly."

A'lory, being A'lory, generally isn't buying her attempts to stay cool — even if the weather is all too willing to help with that! He's just going to take one small step forward, here, and offer her his hand. "Hm. One up on me, then, since I didn't pack at all. Except for the chimes." Those, he simply could not do without. Meanwhile, the nervous energy flooding his skinny body is causing him to fidget a little, wanting to get close enough to her to touch — to /confirm/ — the things that went on. A man of fact, you see, requires proof. "It's funny," he begins, gently, "how shy we have become." He can still feel the impression of those stolen kisses. Or is that Eisheth being… 'helpful'… again.

Mention of her chimes manages to shake Sara lose, and a real smile takes to her lips. "You brought them!" With all of her other work left back in the time, Sara is happy to know something made it though, and even more pleased that he had brought them. Her hands unclench, just a bit, and she take a single step forward, closing the distance to be close enough to touch. She doesn't touch the shy comment with a ten foot pole however, she doesn't know how! Inwardly some sharp words are being expressed by her harper self about a lack of witty retort.

"Of course I did." A'lory grins at her, taking one of her hands and pulling her close enough that he can tuck it into his pocket. "Those hands are not replaceable, and need to be protected from the cold. Is my harper lacking words? Surely not." Or at least, it's the excuse he's going to use to keep a hold of her. Beneath the gaiety, there is a creeping certainty, a gleeful, masculine enjoyment in her shyness with him. With his free hand, he strokes her cheek, slow and thoughtful. "You wouldn't stay out of my head last night."

You paged Nell with: Sara pages, ""no" category="log" tags="K'vvan +2013" perPage="250" order="created_at" prependLine="||~ Title||~ OOC Date||~ Cast||~ Summary||"]] <— make sure that where it says your character name, there is a space after it before the +2013"

Sara allows her self to be pulled close, her uncertinty evaporating in such close proximity to him. "You, my dear bronze, are bad for my reputation. What is a harper without words?" His hand on her face is being quite distracting, and she reaches up with her free hand to capture it. Of course, that brings it in close enough proximity that she cannot help but kiss his hand also. "Oh? How strange, you seemed to be all that mine would focus on."

"We can't have that… " My, that's distracting; distracting enough that A'lory just stands there looking quite the fool and caring not one bit. Inded, he is starting to /enjoy/ being foolish every now and then. After a moment to gather himself, he curls his fingers lightly around hers and smiles — a brief and tender smile. "Good; then we're even." All is fair, and all that jazz, right? Right! "I think I like the way this is going."

Sara laughs, and the last of the uncertinty leaves her expression. He wasn't about to take back what had been said the night before. Every dire sinareo her mind had conjured dissolves.

Sara laughs, and the last of the uncertinty leaves her expression. He wasn't about to take back what had been said the night before. Every dire scene her mind had conjured dissolves. "You know, I think this might just be fun." It isn't all that often that something so simple renders another person so speechless.

And miss the opportunity to tuck one pretty harper into the curve of his arm for a hug? Never! "Fun." A'lory tries for stern disapproval, but only manages to laugh at his own inability to act tough around her for very long. "Well, maybe a little bit… " He gathers her hand to his chest, the other long arm snaking 'round her waist. "So, Sara… what did you have in mind for /fun/?" So far, A'lory has nothing — prepared for a far longer chase, the man is simoly at a loss: what /dies/ he do when the lady has decided she likes him as he is?

Sara takes the last quarter step reqired for her to be firmly against him, and draws her hand out of his pocket, "Well…." Sara lets it draw out for a moment, "we could do this," and she applies action to word and goes to kiss him like the night before.

A'lory doesn't object; instead, he kisses her right back, pulling her hand up to rest on the nape of his neck and letting his own rest on her hips. Suddenly, the winter chill around them is gone, replaced by warmth. Sara apparently packs quite a punch.

All thought might just cease the for a moment, to be replaced instead by simple enjoyment of the moment. But the cold is not going away, and the heat of the moment covers for it only up to a point. Sara's feet are the first to point out that they are not clad well and she really ought to pay attention to them and move a bit before they fall off. Directing a thought to her feet that they ought to keep their opinions to themselves Sara pulls out of the kiss very, very slowly.

All good things come to an end. Reluctantly A'lory eases his grip on her and lets her breathe

All the while, the gentle approval of his dragon bolsters his courage. For all his awkward courtship, he is at heart a holdbred man, unused to chasing women with shady intentions. "Sara… " He sighs, soft and happy and flushed. "You know I'm serious, yes?"

Sara looks up at, dare she say it? her dragon rider, "Are you?" Sara has to make sure, she's now lived in the weyr for a while.

"I don't play those kinds of games, my Harper." A'lory whispers against her neck, setting a kiss on her shoulder. "I much prefer the stability of a single lover." Barring those pesky flights; even A'lory cannot escape that aspect of being a rider.

Another thought occurs to the harper, and she pulls back just slightly so she can look fully into the rider's eyes. "Is Eisheth alright with this?" Heaven forbid if she offends the dragon, she may not fully understand the bond they chair, but she wants to respect it. Some of her prior worry has crept back into Sara's eyes.

"Him?" A'lory laughs. "He would dance a jig if he could." Indeed, there is all manner of happy crooning going on, and not all of it is due to eggs on the Sands. "Don't worry, himself is well pleased with this." There is a long pause while A'lory gets a pleased earful from the dark bronze to relay. "He would assure you that you are welcome in his weyr any time you wish to come."

"Good." It was the final thread that had to be set in stone. Other then all the other ones that come from the fact that he's a rider and she's not, but they'll come to those when they come to them. Her feet are starting to complain again about the cold and lack-of-moving around. They fidget just a bit.

"Come on," A'lory says softly, tugging her hand gently. "We can do this somewhere warm, yes?" Where they go is up to Sara — all he cares for is to see her cared for. "Maybe we should visit the bazaar and get you some clothes." So sayeth the man who has a bare four sets of identical leathers.

Sara lets herself be tugged and begins walking back towards the weyr, her feet rather happy to be moving again and some warmth back into them. "I think I got use to the warmth of Ista- I wouldn't have given this a second thought back in High Reaches."

A'lory nods slowly. "I miss that island. Spent my life there. How long were you posted to the Reaches?" Warm and moving is good.

Sara could get use to walking hand in hand with a person as special as A'lory. "I was born and grew up there till I went to Harper, was stationed there for a year again after I made journeyman." Is there a happy smile there for good memories? "Came back when the Master I studied under took a turn for the worse."

"Ah," A'lory encourages, taking care to match his stride to hers; what a strange feeling, to have a.partner after Turns of running lone. He likes it. "And your specialty is instruments." A flash of an idea hits him then, echoed across the subtle spaces between him and his. "Do you want to make more"

"Instrumet repair and construction, in specific," Sara looks up at A'lory a little puzzled, "That's what I was doing in the stores, seeing if I could find some materials to work with." She doesn't mention her troubles with the now-time harper on that particular score. It was something she wasn't /quite/ ready to share with him yet, wanting to share the happytimes only for right now.

Oh, but A'lory is conniving that way. He gives Sara quite the sunny smile — the one Sadaiya might opine means mischief is afoot — and offers, slyly, "What if… I managed to get you materiel and someplace to shape it? Away from that pesky male who won't let you practice your craft?" His brows arch. "Will that suit?" Ulterior motives, of course: his curiosity is eating at him regarding instrument making.

But see, Sara knows that smile. She's seen that smile before, okay, she likes that smile, mischief is fun, but… "How would you get it?" Is she looking suspicious at him? Yes! She is, here's a cocked upright eyebrow there for him.

It's rather his trademark, that smile. "Oh, a trade here and there," A'lory explains breezily, tangling his fingers with hers. "I would enjoy giving you an opportunity to continue your Craft."

Sara stops walking and tuggs on A'lory's hand, "/trade/? What would you have to trade?"

"Oh /do/stop worrying," A'lory kisses her fingers, laughing down at her. "There's still a need for help in digging out. People are willing to offer things for that."

Sara forgets, Sara /likes/ to worry. It's an art she has perfected over time. But, she lets him kiss her fingertips and with only a sideway glance continues to walk. "You don't need to do that… Sadaiya said she knows a Smith who might help me get some work." Besdies, it's been a long time since she worked with the Smiths, it would be fun.

A'lory knows; and still he wants to be helpful. "She probably does." Perhaps she's seen through his blalant attempt to get her alone in his weyr so he can watch her fondle wood.

Impulsivly, she kisses his cheek then settles back into her walk. "Why did we not do this before?" Well, maybe because their world was busying being destroyed?

"Too busy pretending not to like each other?" And trying to save the world. A'lory has an ever deepening urge to do a mischievious thing — and acts on it. "Spend the night with me. Just… just because we can."

Sara is silent for a few long moments. She has to process that for a bit. A long bit. Longer then a long bit. Then she squeezes his hand and smiles. "I've never seen your weyr before." That /might/ just be a yes.

"That /has/ to be rectified." Good thing A'lory's just cleaned the place out and all; its warm and comfortabe confines might actually look nice for a visitor. "C'mon. You'll love it.

Sara picks up her pace, a bit. A warm be, weyr might just be the right place to be right now. It was a perfect moment.

The flaking, honeycombed edges of once monumental limestone rocks have been sent over sideways by the toll of four hundred Turns' ill effects and put to use for writing spaces and seating. Bone white with salty scaling, smaller chips off the old block lie in a carefully scattered arrangement, lining a path along the subtly labyrinthine grooves of the stone floor, guiding one's feet between the minimal, shabby-chic trappings of a man's life tucked into convenient crevices; hidden deep in the smallest end of that dark place is a low limestone shelf, heaped with lush bedding and furs to ward against the inexplicable mountain chill that creeps in from some unknown source to touch the spine with madness. Looming larger still, a monolith of halite and limestone dominates the larger space, worn smooth for a dragon's sleeping space.
On the ledge, you see a bronze dragon.
On the perch are Loki, Cagn, and Kuma.
You see Muted Wind Chime here.
A'lory is here.
Obvious exits:

And… the pair cuddles and falls asleep. What? It was after midnight for both of us!

Add a New Comment