Reveka is having second thoughts, but the worries that hold her back are still valid


-- On Pern --
It is 6:03 AM where you are.
It is sunrise of the twenty-fifth day of the fourth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the eighty-fifth day of Spring and 70 degrees. Despite being clear, dry and sunny over the weyr proper, a thunderstorm drenches the outer reaches of Igen's desert.
In Southern:
It is the eighty-fifth day of Autumn and 86 degrees. It is partly cloudy and everything is wet still from the recent rains.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the eighty-fifth day of Autumn and 14 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


The Telgar Steppe, Zingari Encampment, Haeyleri Clan

OOC Date 25 Feb 2018 07:00




The Telgar Steppe

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’s morning in the Telgar Steppe, mild and crisp because Rukbat has barely risen from his bed. The Kheeriin encampment is quiet, as well as the Haeyleri/Armida. The clans had arrived late a couple of nights before and had settled in quickly and quietly. Now, with dawn on the horizon, things begin to shift and move, the early risers and shift workers rising from their beds. The smells of breakfast begin to float through the air as the camp cooks get to going.

It’s the smell of breakfast that rouses Reveka, and it seems it’s to be one of the mornings she’s actually allowed to have an appetite, because breakfast smells delicious. She slips from bed to grab a robe and sneak out to the cook fires before the guards are up and she runs the risk of running into her father. That has been a source of tension with Reveka. Even though Willimina and Igraine have both spoken to her parents, neither of them will acknowledge her existence. At least get siblings have come around to talking to her, none of them understanding why Reveka is being shunned, all too young to understand the forces at work here saving her brother Illid, who is just two turns her junior and grew up with much the same set of rules as Reveka, he too, refuses to talk to her.

She returns shortly with her hot, delicious smelling breakfast and moves to drop a bowl of scraps on the table for her ‘lizard fair. In the sleeping mass of firelizards, there's an extra green body. What is this now? Reveka sets her breakfast aside and lifts the foreign green lizard from the pile of now waking firelizards and realizes it's Serah, Daen’s little green, or one of them. “Serah, what are you doing here lovely?” The yawning green stretches out a leg to deliver her message, creeling a heating and her hunger. Reveka takes the message and lets Serah eat with the others. Breakfast forgotten, she moves to her bed to sit and open the missive. Her mahogany colored eyes mist over as she reads the letter, her heart aching for Daenerys and all the should have, could have, would haves, and swelling at the idea that he cherishes her at least. But does he love her?

He wants to be here with her, instead of waiting on the sands. He offered to marry her… why hadn't she accepted? Had she been to hasty in telling him no? She'd avoided him like the plague the last couple of sevens in Igen, after their chat, she couldn't bare to see him when she knew she might take back everything she's said, she's needed conviction to see this through, and she would have none if she saw Daen those first few days after telling him if their child to be.

I'm Pregnant.

Those two words have the most insane power to change quite literally everything, both for good and bad. How those two little words had shaken up and tossed her life around. And each day that goes by is harder and harder to deal with alone, to deal with knowing that this baby she loves with all her heart already, will be ripped from her arms the moment he or she is born, to live with Igraine and A’lira because she's too young and unstable to raise it on her own, knowing that it could spell disaster for all three of them if Daen came home and things didn't work out between them. So many what ifs and should have beens and could have beens.

And here Daen is again, writing and saying there may be another way.


It's agonizing to ponder on.

But what if Daen came home? What if he impresses?

Are either of those things suddenly going to change Daen's mind about marriage/mating? Or Reveka's for that matter?

If he came home and asked you to marry him again, you know you’d say yes. She chides herself softly and shakes her head.

Then why did I run away and say no the first time?

Because she knows that's the right thing to do. Because she doesn't want to trap Daenerys with a marriage he doesn't want, with a child that was an accident in conceiving. Because neither of them are ready…

Because Daenerys has a chance to impress…

Rev's making excuses, because a plan is already set on motion… They've decided already. Well, she did anyhow. She regrets not giving Daenerys more of a chance to have a say, but she's been determined in her path, in her choices.

Would he be this heartsick if there weren't a baby involved? Would she?

Reveka knows her own answer immediately, she would be, because she loves him and she's still unsure if he loves her back the same way, and it's that uncertainty that holds her back from begging Daenerys to come home, from screaming yes to his marriage proposal and singing it from the heights. She doesn't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage, sex can't be everything, and the child can't be the only reason they are together.

Reveka sighs, all appetite lost now, breakfast, forgotten, and moves to find a stylus a scrap of hide big enough to write on. She agonizes over the wording, it has to be just right. The letter ends up being lengthy, and worry and she opts for honesty over honor and what's best. Then sealing it shut, she attaches it to. Serah's leg and sends the green off, with a full belly no less. Then she sits. And waits, and possibly despairs a bit.

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