Who

Xanthee, Daenerys

What

Daenerys finally tells Xanthee he's become a Trader.

None

When

It is evening of the thirteenth day of the fifth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

In Igen:

It is the forty-third day of Spring and 84 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.

Where

Caravan Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 03 Nov 2017 05:00

 

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Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.


Meandering in from the direction of the Bazaar, Xanthee is wearing a simple shift dress in dark green that falls to her knees, cinched in at her waist with a narrow leather belt, matching brown leather sandals on her feet. The tip of her thigh holster is just visible when the hem of her skirt is visible. She doesn't seem to have a purpose in the area, she seems to be merely walking around aimlessly, kind of lost in her thoughts as her gaze travels over the caravans gathered here and those traders that are wandering about the grounds.

There's activity over at one particular yurt: new black material's being measured properly to fit its structure. Daenerys is among the men working, his shirt left by the wayside as he finalizes the last bit of material to its place and stands up, pushing his hair out of his face with a sigh of satisfaction. It's the beginning of his new life, one of freedom from the Craftbound path he'd been on. Perhaps he'll learn new things about himself, perhaps he'll soon become bored with it and find yet another path to walk along — or perhaps not. For now, though, it's enough that he's beginning this path.

When her gaze falls on that particular yurt where a familiar face is working, Xanthee cocks her head to one side quizzically, and strides forward. "What is all this then?" she asks as she comes up to where the men are working and sidles up to Daenerys. Her green eyes search his face for the meaning all this as she waits anxiously for his reply, wrapping her arms around herself as if that gesture could hold her together in case she doesn't like what he has to say.

Oh, wait, what's this? She appears like magic, out of nowhere. Daenerys turns his head, and then his eyes widen. "Ah, hey, there, baby girl." He runs his hand through his hair, eyes shifting as his former compatriots melt away, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation. Once he's certain he's going to have some 'splainin' to do, all on his own, he'll just out with it: "I'm a Trader." He shrugs, awkward. He doesn't like that scrunched up look of hers.

"Don't you 'baby girl' me! When exactly were you going to let me know that you were going to run away with the Traders?" Xanthee replies, her eyes flashing with worry, as she looks him up and down. Kicking at the dusty ground with her toes, her gaze trails down so that she doesn't have to look Daen in the eye. She is thrown here. Definitely wasn't expecting this while taking a stroll after her shift at the Tea Room, enjoying the spring weather. "What brought this on anyway?" she asks, a little less harshly as she flicks her gaze back up at him. "

Crap, he's in for it then, really in for it. "When you decided to show yourself where I could tell you." Daenerys replies gently, settling himself down on the steps of his yurt, cradling one knee in his arms and studying the girl with concerned dark eyes. "It's been awhile coming — I just couldn't stand being in the craft anymore. Too restricting. You understand, right?" He reaches out a hand, wanting to invite her down onto the seat with him. "Come on, baby girl, it's not like I'll never be back."

With a deep sigh, Xanthee sinks down onto the step next to Daen tucking her knees up and smoothing her skirt over them, giving her time to gather her thoughs on what he just said. "I do understand, I really do. Do you know how many times I thought about running away with the Traders after the first time I failed to impress? It was a lot." Lifting her gaze to meet his eyes, she offers a small smile. "I had a feeling you weren't happy craftbound." Craning her head, she looks up at the yurt in progress. "Can't say I won't miss you when your gone, just make sure you always come back, ok? I might be able to bear it then." she says, pleading with those large emerald orbs of hers to do this one thing for her.

"Yeah, I buy that." Daenerys agrees softly, understanding her need to just get away. He twists his hair into a thick, shining rope over his shoulder, smiling a little at her. "You noticed, huh." He hadn't been hiding it, precisely; merely biding his time until he could find an escape. He's not entirely proof against those pleading eyes of hers, and glances away briefly. "Yeah, I'll be back. Gotta check on you, keep you out of trouble. You are gonna stay out of trouble, aren't you?"

Xanthee giggles mirthfully, and tosses her ebony tresses over her shoulder, mischief flashing in her eyes, "Trouble? Me? Not likely. Long days at the Tea Room, working out on my restdays. Won't be much time for trouble." The impish smile dancing on her lips seems to imply otherwise though. "So which caravan did you join? Are you going to trade in your leather goods?" she asks curiously, now that all the unpleasant surprise it out of the way.

"Yeah, I don't believe you. Maybe I ought to drag you along, just to make sure." Daenerys laughs, then winks at her. "Nah, your Malosim would have a word to say about that. He was looking for you at the Zingari celebration. That's the caravan I signed up with. And yeah, I'm gonna trade my leather goods. I can't call 'em Tanner-made, of course." He shrugs this off, amused. "But I know folk'll know they're Journeyman quality, so I don't care. Tanners aren't the only ones who can make quality goods."

A blush blooms on the apples of Xanthee's cheeks as Daen mentions Malosim. "He was? Really?" she replies, trying to sound uninterested and failing miserably at the same time. "The Zingari huh? They are a good group. Lots of pretty and rather flexible young ladies in that family." she says with a saucy wink in his direction. "I'm sure you will do very well indeed. I wish I could go, but I think right now, Igen is where I need to be, just a feeling I have." which has absolutely nothing to do with the aforementioned young man of course. "Do you know when you are leaving next?"

"He was. Looked real disappointed you weren't here." Daenerys eyes her sidelong, grinning at her attempt to be nonchalant. She's so busted. "Oh, and don't I just know it." Daenerys grins for the flexibility of the young ladies; he's managed to get really intimately acquainted with one or two in his time here. "Yeah, I know. But at least I know you'll be all right here, won't you." And she'll have time to get to know that Malosim fellow better; Daenerys actually likes the man, for the time being. "I actually don't. Might be awhile, though. I'll make sure I let you know, though. Deal?"

"You'd better. And I'm going to expect you to keep in touch too. I want to hear about what you are up to." Xanthee says in a tone of voice that will not entertain any argument. Just then, her bronze Grymm pops into the air in front of her, a little note tied to his leg. Holding out her arm for him to land, she take the note and sighs heavily while rolling her eyes. "There's a new girl at the Tea Room and she is getting hammered right now and needs help." A server's work never ends apparently. Getting to her feet, she looks down at him and smiles, "You mean a lot to me. Be careful out there." She says, her voice strangely mature as she nods once as if to say no more of that. "I'll catch you later." she says before turning and walking purposefully back towards the Bazaar.

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