Igraine, A'lira


BACKSCENED: A'lira and Igraine catch up and share some news, some happy, some worrisome. Happens concurrently with Sword Swallowing and Romance


-- On Pern --
It is 5:12 PM where you are.
It is sunset of the twenty-eighth day of the fourth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the eighty-eighth day of Spring and 77 degrees. It is bright and sunny. The only evidence of the overnight storm is in the lingering mud puddles.
In Southern:
It is the eighty-eighth day of Autumn and 94 degrees. The recent rains have left everything wet and muddy, but Rukbat shines brightly overhead.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the eighty-eighth day of Autumn and 21 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Telgar Steppe; Zingari Encampment; Healer's Yurt

OOC Date 27 Feb 2018 07:00


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“I think that's best, all things considered.”


Telgar Steppe; Zingari Encampment; Healer's Tent

The savannah home of desert runners and hardy herder-folk, Telgar's steppe-lands along the northern bend of the Western Road are dry and wind-swept. No trees grow here, save around the scant rivers and lakes that dot and thread the terrain. Summers here are quite hot, and the winters are deep, with many a morning finding the low shrubs and grasses gilded in thick, silvery frost. The flatness here might drive a mountain-dweller insane, were it not for the rolling hills that break the monotony of the view every now and again. Navigation must be done relying on sun, stars, sense, and scant landmark alone, for there are no mountains or valleys to take a bearing by for leagues.

It is the eighty-eighth day of Spring and 77 degrees. It is bright and sunny. The only evidence of the overnight storm is in the lingering mud puddles.

Ah, the place where it all began: the very yurt where a then-unsure young rider first sought escape from heartache, and an end to confusion and weariness in the arms of an escort. And in the intervening turns between then and now, found a relationship worth keeping. A'lira pauses in the entrance, just looking around, seeing in it many, many things — not the least of which a good place to tell Igraine his news. "Oh, wife of mine… come here, kitten, I have news for you."

Igraine hadn't expected A'lira until the rodeo a few days hence, but the sound of his voice sends her heart to singing. She'd been weighing out herbs when he approached, she spins now, to look at her mate in the entrance to the healer's yurt. "A'lira!" She moves quickly to the door of the yurt, and his news be damned, because she's getting a kiss out of him first. She stands on her toes and pulls herself up by his neck to place a searing kiss on his lips. They've only been gone a seven or so, but it's a seven too damn long.

A'lira's arms wrap around her waist, holding her slender body to his and returning that kiss with all the hunger of a man denied sustenance forever. He's missed his weyrmate entirely too much over the past seven; she's the best thing about coming home. When finally he comes up for air, he whispers against her lips, "Ah, kitten, that is worth Kyp almost strainin' his wings getting me here." And no complaint from that brown, either — he'd put the speed on all on his own, wanting to get his rider out to his mate with every evidence of anticipation; there are always brave Trader children willing to come out to him and keep him company for a bit, scratching and talking to him about their young lives. Once more, A'lira will kiss his bride (is it odd that he still considers her that, though they've been married awhile by now?) again, on the neck. "I love you, my kitten."

Igraine would melt into a puddle on her own floor if not for the strength of A'lira's embrace. She loves it when he kisses her like that. "I love you too A'lira." She smiles up at him, her love at him shining unabashedly in her eyes. She laughs at his assertion that a kiss is worth near injury to his dragon, because she knows he's being hyperbolic. "Well I certainly hope Kyp is alright, come in, what is this news?" She pulls at A'lira, tugging him into the yurt and shutting the door, wanting some privacy with her mate.

"Oh, he's fine; some kids're makin' much of him as we speak." Of course he's being hyperbolic; the brown may not be the largest of his clutch, but he is among the strongest, now that he's past that awkward stage where lifting all that muscle (both his own and his rider's) had caused A'lira no end of worry. Turns of straight flight to tire out the yearling had grown even more stamina into the brown. Besides, :between: is a wonderful thing! Willingly, A'lira's drawn into the yurt, well satisfied with the drawing shut of the door. "This news is…" He draws a rather complicated knot from his pocket and hands it over: the intricate thing indicates his promotion to dragonhealer — and wingsecond. "Good news, wife… they're going to work my ass off." He chuckles.

Igraine chuckles. "I bet he is fine. Those kids will keep him busy for some time if it's the same group that accosted him last time." Igraine inspects the knot A'lira produces with a look of pride on her face and a swell in her heart. "You make me so proud husband, good for you, it's about time you get something for all your hard work." Igraine puts on a somewhat fake pout. "The only complaint I'll make to that is seeing you even less. We should have a drink to celebrate!" She moves further into the yurt for whiskey and glasses. As she does, she passes a bundle she'd been putting together for the still room in their weyr. "Mm! I am glad you came, I have some things to add to our herbal reserves at home."

A'lira laughs softly. "They are. He likes them because they're not afraid of him — sometimes his appearance can frighten." The dragon's rather… bulldog-like, despite his sweet, cuddly nature; how often has A'lira had to calm Holders who swear the dragon's eyeing them up for a light snack just on the basis of his hellhoundish appearance? When Igraine pouts at him, he reaches out and brushes his thumb over that full lower lip, cupping her cheek tenderly. "Oh, I know, it, kitten." That part, he himself is none too thrilled about, but it's the price one pays for proving oneself a responsible citizen, and all. The prospect of a little celebration now, though, has him grinning playfully. "I think that's the best plan." Playfully, he draws her tight against him, enjoying the feel of her against his body and burying his face in her hair. "Remind me to take it in the morning, then." Apparently, tonight is for being a young and carefree lad, not being a Responsible Adult.

Igraine chuckles. "I will remind you, because it's got the next month's supply of herb, ginger and tea in there." And now she can be done adulting for the time being. SHe wraps her arms around A'lira, savoring the feel of his warm body against hers, of his arms around her. She's really been missing him, this is the longest they've been apart since they mated. After a moment she sighs and lets out a light giggle. "I somehow don't think that we'll get much of a drink standing thusly my love." She tickles up his sides and tries to wriggle out of his grasp to get the drinks.

Wait, what? She mentioned drinks? A'lira's been too busy snuggling his lady to think about such mundane things as drinks. Reluctantly, he lets his wife go, grinning unabashedly at her. "I can't help it — I hate being separated from you, you know." Looks like certain men have gotten a little spoiled by the availability of the woman he loves so deeply. "Seriously, though, kitten — that you've been so supportive is… thanks. Don't think I don't know how much you've supported this."

Igraine shakes her head lightly, grinning at A'lira. Silly, silly, lovable man. "I know." She says in response to his first. "I hate being away from you too, but we knew it would happen if we were both to continue our work." If they can't handle this, what would happen when the Zingari went on pilgrimage across the continent next turn? Best to get the worst of their separation anxiety over with now. She beams at A'lira when he thanks her for being so supportive of his busy schedule. "Well, it would hardly be fair would it? Me expecting you to support my dreams and goals and not doing the same for you my love. I couldn't even dream of it, you're goals are important too." (fix'd)

Goal one: chasing his woman around the yurt for a couple days, clothing optional? A'lira winds a bit of her hair around his finger, admiring the silky texture — and her beautiful face while he's at it. "Mmm. This makes us a good team." He tilts his head, studying her with gentle dark eyes. "So, what've you got on the boil out here?" Hopefully nothing to do with making holes in people, or having them ingest things that… well. He's not going to think about it; Igraine's done with that, for the most part.

Igraine laughs lightly at A'lira's question, giving him a playful wink. "I think the only thing boiling here today is Klah and Curry." She smiles and finally manages to get the whiskey and a couple of tumblers, which she pours a healthy finger or two of whiskey into. She lifts a glass to A'lira and grins. "To you and all your future endeavors husband, may you find luck in them!" She hands him the tumbler and picks hers up to clink the glasses before tossing the red liquid back and pouring another.

"And to you, my wife, who will always keep me from losing my mind." A'lira clinks his glass against Igraine's before taking a sip of his whiskey. "Ha, good to know. So, talk to me of mundane things; like… Milosh and that girl of his. Echo. What are they doing, there?" He can't help but notice that the man seems to be attached at the hip to the herder girl, unwilling to be parted from her for even a moment if he can possibly help it.

Igraine laughs. "Do you mean what aren't they doing? I barely see Milosh anymore. He seems to be behaving himself though." Oh yes. Igraine knows about his meltdowns…or at least the ones that were the subject of gossip fodder. "I'm wondering if he's met her parents yet, she's of the Kheeriin. I remember her parents from when I was growing up, some relative of Tallel's, aunt or an uncle maybe?" Igraine sips at her second round of whiskey, looking thoughtful. "What is happening at the Weyr? We haven't got the updates from the ones we left behind yet." Because there is ALWAYS a Zingari guard or spy in Igen somewhere.

Appearing in public much is probably one of the things they aren't doing. A'lira has yet to hear of any meltdowns — but then, how likely is that, all things considered? The brownrider is rarely outside his weyr in his scant downtime. "Mmm… meeting the parents can be difficult." Although, having met Igraine's — he's glad he seems to have passed muster with them. Folding himself down onto the low couch, he rubs thoughtfully at his chin. "Y'know… I really don't know. If I'm not doin' PT, or somethin' with the wing, I'm in the Yard or dead asleep. Only other thing I really keep half an eye on are the Candidates. They seem to be doin' all right."

Igraine grins. "Aye, A couple of our own even got snagged this go 'round." Daenerys, and his sisters, which make them Zingari by extension. "Willimina was joking about the weyr stealing her best and brightest, starting with S'ayde and ending with this lot." Igraine chuckles. "My my how time flies when you're busy." Igraine shakes her head and finishes her whiskey. "I'm starving, have you had a meal yet love?"

"Huh. Well… Willimina should stop pickin' the dragonbait as Traders, then." A'lira isn't seriously suggesting that, not really; it wouldn't likely work, anyway! Wait, did Igraine mention food somewhere in there? A'lira, is hungry — "Mmm… only if I can start with you." To show he's actually kidding (unless she agrees to it, in which case he's totally not.), he winks at her playfully. "I'd never say no to a Zingari meal. Your cooks are the best."

Igraine laughs and shakes her head. As if any of that could be helped. “Only one adopted member has been searched so far.” A’lira’s suggestion that he break his fast with Igraine is met with a heated, and sultry look. Igraine is never one to turn down a sporadic tryst with her husband, she hasn't yet, and she likely never will. “Hmm. As long as we don't bring the yurt walls down, this isn't our Weyr after all.” And there's far less stone to dampen the noise.

“True, true…” A’lira will concede the point, as there's no argument to it. It's just their luck that Daenerys has such a strong line of dragonriders in his blood to offer up to the Weyr. “So how's that girl doing? Reveka. She okay?” He takes a moment to savor the brew he's come to love so much. He's fortunate in being able to stock some in his weyr, where many can't, along with some of the teas the Zingari produce. Igraine's sultry look is met with one of his own, and a little smile. “Perhaps we should start with food, lover. I get the feeling we will need the energy later…”

Igraine nods. “Physically she's alright, and the sickness has slowed some, but I worry a little over her emotional state. The poor girl seems so torn on what to do about things. I don't envy her position.” Igraine shakes her head and sighs. “Those are some hard decisions at such a young age, it's a shame she has to make them at all.” Igraine is quite glad now, that she's always been so careful about her dalliances and affairs, she's not so sure she could take having to make the same decisions as Reveka is having to make now. “Either way, I'm trying to help her as best I can, poor thing has enough to worry over.”

“It can't be easy.” A’lira considers quietly, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully. Having to carry a child amid familial disapproval is hardly the best way to begin a new stage in life, beleaguered by the stares and judgement flung like flaming bags of poop. “Especially if she isn't sure what she wants to do, constantly having to defend against others’ expectations is like torture. If she needs a place to just get the hell away for awhile, I'll take her wherever she needs to go. I'm sure she could use a break.”

Igraine nods, “Aye, I don’t imagine it is easy, and she’s definitely unsure, poor thing.” She moves outside, heading for the cook fires and the meal previously mentioned. “She can’t really be ::betweening:: anywhere right now, and I’m nervous about the trip back to the weyr as is, for both Willimina and Reveka. I don’t like women traveling this late in their pregnancies, but there’s no choice in the matter sometimes.” Reaching the cook fires, Igraine grabs a bowl of curry and some mulled redfruit cider and waits for A’lira to do the same.

“It never is.” A’lira will follow Igraine on out, and gather up a good meal for himself. One never appreciates the variety of life until it disappears, however briefly. “Mmm. No, but we could fly straight…” And then he shakes his head. “Well. Not if the very idea would only make her even more uncomfortable.” And it might; riding a dragon is a tough business, and many a woman’s lost a child a-dragonback, due to its rigors. “Either way, you’ll send for me if you need to.”

Igraine nods. “Aye, I will… Do you think, maybe, we should have her move into the weyr with us? She can’t perform now, and she seems miserable on the grounds.” Igraine looks expectantly at her husband. “We do have the extra bed in the main room, and we nearly never sleep there.” Sleep at the home weyr usually happened in the private room A’lira and Igraine have hidden in their warren. “And I’d have an easier time keeping an eye on her there.”

“I think that's best, all things considered.” A’lira muses, then grins at her. “There's no reason why not, actually. I think the idea of not having to face her family right now would be better for both her mental state and her child's health. Last thing she needs is a miscarriage right now. And if she's always stressed, she could.” Having seen the mental and emotional stress of losing a child puts on a woman, A’lira can barely contain a shudder. “Yes, I think you'd better have her move there, as a medical precaution. The less she has to deal with, the better. And it might be good for her… I know of a couple of young, un-mated pregnant girls at home; it might do her good to be among those who are also carrying a first child.” Those fortunates, however, are not facing opposition, but an army of support.

“Aye, I’ll speak with her about it then.” And now that that seems settled, Igraine will move on to finish her dinner and spend some time with her weyrmate, since they get so little of it these days. And when they return to her shift in the Healer’s yurt, well, they find it empty, so Igraine takes advantage of that too. It will be several hours before either Healer or Rider emerge from the yurt again.

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