K'dir ambles in from the southwest bowl.
Sylviath lumbers in from the southwest bowl.
Ilesyn is drenched, rain dripping down her face, her neck, no doubt down her back beneath her sodden clothing, as well. Still, she's wandering, if somewhat aimlessly, staring out over the lake in apparent deep though.
K'dir wanders by with his dragon, who insists she needs a drink of water. The rider is in a warm coat, hood over his head, which he clasps sloser about his face with one hand. A few tendrils of his dark hair curl persistantly out from around the hood.
Ilesyn isn't wearing a coat - instead, she seems to be luxuriating in the rain. It doesn't quite fit her persona, to dance, or run around, or twirl about, so she doesn't do it; she merely wanders this way and that, as if drawing a random path across the ground. K'dir isn't noticed - not yet.
K'dir comes walking towards the lake with a purpose, though he doesn't look like he's real bent on it. SYlviath, instead, is nearly prancng as she heads toward the lake, stepping into it to lower her lovely head to dip her face in it and get a nice drink of water. K'dir waits patiently, looking around, so see if anyone is watching. He stays quiet for a moment, just watching her. She walks as if she's lost, or not paying much attention to her surroundings. "Ilesyn? Is everything all right?" He calls out.
Ilesyn half-turns, and then, after a pause, swings around all the way - perhaps it isn't a full spin, but it's a half, and she looks happy, lifting her arms as if to greet the rain. "I love rain," she says, somewhat more bouyant than usual - as if she's less intent upon analysing all, and understanding all. "It's just wet. That's all there is to it. No intent, besides bringing rain."
K'dir gives a little smile, glad to see you happy. He looks over at Sylviath, who is content in strolling in the shallows of the frigid lake, keeping her feet cool. The young rider walks over towards Ilesyn. "I like it, too," he says in a soft voice. "I like the calming sound it makes at night. I like to fall asleep with that sound."
"Can't hear it very well down in the caverns. I don't like that." admits Ilesyn, taking several steps closer to meet you. "Reminds me of my childhood, though, sleeping in the wagons when it rained. I liked to watch it, just falling downwards."
K'dir says "You've never seen it fall upwards, have you?"
Ilesyn's lips twist into a wry smile, somewhat amused. She pulls a piece of fuzzy hair - her hair always goes fuzzy, bouffy, in the rain - away from her face. "Not yet!"
K'dir says "You think," in a bit of a drawl, "that if we stood in one place long enough, it would?" He tries looking up at the sky, blinking. THen he turns around with his back bending a little more backwards, so he can look at the sky upside down. He says that way for a just a few moments before he says, "The rain is falling up my nose!"
"It should. I like things to be unpredictable, sometimes. Just sometimes, though." It would be out of character for Ilesyn to say otherwise-- order, predictability; that's what makes her who she is, what makes her tick. A laugh escapes, as she attempts to echo K'dir's movements, further laughter as the rain trickles down towards her eyes. "Like backwards tears."
K'dir lets out a long, near silent sigh. "I should think backwards tears would hurt.
Ilesyn draws herself back up to an upright position, turning her gaze. "Flooding your eyes, you mean? Mm," she agrees, watching the grey-blue ripples of the lake, the whole world those two colours in endless monotony - grey, blue; blue, grey.
K'dir says "No..." his voice still soft, sort of sad. "I mean, tears going back into your eyes. They should sting even worse, like...like all the pain that we try to get rid of when we cry comes back into you, to hurt you even more."
"That's an awful image." Ilesyn's neither clincal, nor emotional - detatched, mostly, her words all but floating in mid-air, just hovering. "Pain is bad enough felt once."
K'dir watches his beloved dragon, walk in a stately manner thorough the light rain and the shallow water, glistening all over like a gem half hidden in the dark. " I now," he says.
Ilesyn's eyes, too, rest upon Sylviath - a break in the monotony of the landscape, a light in the bleakness. "What is it that hurts you?"
K'dir shakes his head. "I don't know. Some headaches...restless nights. I've been thinking about things." His eyes rest on Sylviath as if she were all the light in the world to him.
No doubt she is. Ilesyn nods, just once, the rain dripping down her face in long rivulets - like tear tracks, though they stem from her forehead, and from her cheeks, not her eyes. "I'm sorry." That's genuine. "Anything you want to talk about?"
K'dir says simply, "My father's not well."
Ilesyn goes silent, and does not shift her gaze to watch K'dir - nonetheless, there's no doubt of her attention, even hidden behind fuzzy clumps of hair, the angle of her body. "Do the healers think he's going to get better?"
K'dir does not nod, but he answers honestly, his voice steady, almost monotone, words spoken clearly. "He hasn't seen any healers. Mother is taking care of hi. My uncle says it is probably just a bad cold. He was here this morning, early, to bring in some mail and the latest kill for the dinner table. He had a couple letters for me. One was from my mother, the other from my eldest brother."
Ilesyn's expression turns worried. "He should see a healer. Your mother may be skilled, I don't know, but a healer will be best for him." She finally turns, shifting not just her face, but her whole body, her feet squelching in the mud. "You're worried. You should /bring/ a healer to him, if only to ease your own mind."
K'dir looks down at the ground and nods. "I woud like to. Mother says it is just a cold, from being out in the rain for days while hunting. But my brother..." he swallows, his face turning a little pale, "He says that it is...." Then he shakes his head. "He was always full of accusations. Doesn't matter what he says."
"What does your brother say?" It isn't so much a push, as a gentle touch - as if a comforting hand on the shoulder, though Ilesyn does not move.
K'dir says "That it's my fault that, if he dies, he dies landless. This is my older brother who stands to inherit everything."
Ilesyn swallows, adrift. She's not got a quick response to that - nor can she continue to watch K'dir; her gaze shifts, once more, out over the lake. "You shouldn't listen to him. That won't help, I know. You shouldn't blame yourself, for anything."
K'dir shrugs. "I know. But he didn't need to be so...hurtful. I'm worried about my father. He's worried about dirt." He watches Sylviath as she swishes her tail through the water, turning around to return back. "And I'm the bad son. Gofigure."
"Some people like to take their frustration out on people. Perhaps your brother doesn't know how to deal with his worry, so he's disgusing it." Ilesyn pauses. Her voice is very soft, and not just in volume - it's distant, and it isn't hard. Just... soft.
K'dir steps slowly towards the Mindhealer, and puts his arms around her. He hugs. "Sometimes I feel lonely. I start to think too much then."
Ilesyn does not start, though her expression registers the briefest flash of surprise, before she's wrapped her own arms about K'dir in response. "Sometimes we all feel lonely. If you feel lonely, you should talk to someone."
K'dir says "I'm talking to you."
"Yes," agrees Ilesyn, nodding her head slowly. "You are. And I want you to always do that - if you need to. I'll always listen."
K'dir says softly, "I know. "He shivers.
Ilesyn nods her head, smiling - slightly. "Good." Then: "You're cold. We should go in. You might get sick."
Sylviath comes out of the water, her stately, careful pace quickened slightly. She walks over to her rider to offer a nuzzle.
K'dir gives you a tighter hug, almost as if he were scared.
Ilesyn doesn't hesitate - not even for a moment - before she squeezes tighter still. "It's all right," she whispers, just more than a breath.
K'dir says, with a quaver and a teary sounding voice. "I didn't do anything wrong!" he's insistant, not loud.
"No," agrees Ilesyn, soothingly - as if she were speaking to a small child, though it's with instinct rather than practice; something about K'dir brings out a side that very few others see. "You didn't. Not a thing."
K'dir says "I'm happy with Sylviath. I /love/ her. She loves /me/. My uncle says that it was meant to be, that I shouldn't worry. But I do. I didn't mean to hurt my father. I'll think of some other way to get him more land. But I don't want it to just go to my brother. He'll gat land from his wife. More land, I mean. He can have it!" he insists, his tone more persistant. Then it softens. "I just want my father to get better."
Ilesyn's voice, again, is soft. "That's what matters. That you love, and are loved. That you care for your family. Your father /will/ get better. I can't promise that, but--" She goes quiet, another squeeze coming from her grasp. "I believe it."
K'dir shivers in your arms. But he nods, releases you, and reaches out to stroke his dragon's lowered muzzle. She makes a soft purring sound to him, more vibration in her thraot than voice.
Ilesyn takes a step back, feet squishing in puddles again, to leave room - space that isn't just physical - for both of you.
K'dir goes into the steam room.
You enter the steam room.
K'dir looks about the room they ducked into to try and dry off a bit. He lets go of the heavy coat from around the throat,
Ilesyn's dampness has made her shiver, just slightly - stepping into the warm, she lifts her arms up, exhilerating in it.
K'dir pulls off his coat and stands over by the door to give it a good shake. It's fairly wet. "I'm sorry," he says. "I just didn't feel like going back to the Living Cavern just yet. It's so crowdedin there...and I don't want to end up as gossip fodder."
"That's okay." Ilesyn doesn't say 'I can understand that'; she merely nods, taking a step further into the room, pushing her hair down in some attempt to keep it from going everywhere.
"I, uh...think I have a comb in my pocket. You want me to comb out your hair for you?" You take a look at his hair...not frizzed, but the dark curls, black with damp, are tighter than usual.
Ilesyn hesitates. "That would be good," she admits. There's a half smile, toothy as always. "Thanks."
K'dir finds the comb, pulls it out, and checks it to make sure there isn't any hair or pocket lint in it. He takes his finges and wipes it, just in case. THen he reaches out and little by little, working from the ends first, combs at the MindHealer's hair.
Ilesyn drops to her knees, to make it easier for K'dir to get to all of her hair - not that she has a lot of it, but the rain certainly has made a mess of it. She's silent, though there's a smile - regardless of whether or not it can be seen - upon her face.
K'dir pursues his task with calmness and care, working methodicaly as he combs. "You're all wet," he says. "You'd better be careful that you don't get sick, Ilesyn. That wouldn not be good."
"I don't get sick very easily," Ilesyn promises, straining not to move her head as the comb hits tangles. "I'll be careful, though. No more rain walking, I suppose."
K'dir says "Not until after the Hatching. That shouldn't be too long off, from what I hear tell." He takes a handfull of hair, and concentrates on just the tangles in the ends, trying to not pull."
Ilesyn's lips pull into a smile. "First time it rains, after the hatching, I am going to walk in the rain until I'm too cold to move. I'll celebrate my freedom, even if I will be dealing with the weyrlings."
K'dir asks, "But, if you get sick then, you won't be allowed into the barracks, Ilesyn."
"I'll be /living/ in the barracks. Well - in what is usually the weyrlingmaster's weyr." Ilesyn assents, though - nodding, but only for a moment, before she stops, to allow the combing process to go on. "That's true, though. Well - eventually. I'll do it."
K'dir smiles, lips not parted, just turning up slightly at the coners. He finishes off the last wisp of hair to brng it back into order with the rest of it. "Maybe I'll join you," he offers.
Ilesyn draws herself back up to her feet, turning. "Thank you." There's a smile there, too. "That would be nice. I'd enjoy that."
K'dir smiles at you, then places the comb back in his pocket.
Ilesyn is still smiling - she hasn't stopped. "Warm in here. Yet-- so damp, as well. It seems such a contrast. There's a word for it. Not sure what it is, though."
K'dir says "A paradox? Oxi...darn, what was that...? Oximoron?"
"That's it," agrees Ilesyn, quickly. "That last one. Opposites, put together."
K'dir nods. "I read that in a scroll," he grins. "I've learned a lot since coming here. Since Impressing, really. THough Sanriel started teaching me things before I even got that far."
"It's good to learn things," agrees Ilesyn, dropping to a seat upon one of the benches. "Sanriel's a good teacher, I believe, too."
K'dir nods, sitting down and pulling up his boots...somewhat muddy. He hugs his knees. "She is a real gentlewoman. She has manners as well as talent."
Ilesyn pauses, as she stretches out along the bench, still wet, although no longer shivering. "Sometimes she does. I'm afraid I seem to rub her the wrong way, sometimes."
K'dir gives a little chuckle. "/You/ rub people the wron way sometimes, Ilesyn. But I think that's because you tell people what they should hear, not just what they /want/ to hear." He tilts his head to the side and looks at you. "Could be a little that most people seem to be a little wary of. You think that's because most people are afraid of honesty?"
"I know." Ilesyn can't fail to admit it - she knows it perfectly well, and accepts it. "I think you're right. I don't coat the bad things in sweetener; it just doesn't seem to be the right thing to do. People don't like to hear someone else point out the ways in which they're not perfect."
K'dir says "I don't think it's so much the ways that they are not perfect, but their faults. Or mistakes. But if they can have them pointed out to them, and they have the strength to admit them, then they can take the next step and try to figure out how to correct the faults or mistakes."
Ilesyn hesitates a moment, apparently deep in thought, before she finally nods. "That's true," she agrees. "I'm not sure, though. Some people like to project themselves as perfect, and pretend that they don't have faults. It depends upon the person."
K'dir says, "I have faults."
Ilesyn nods. "Of course you do. We all do."
K'dir says "But it's the faults that others see in me that make me mad. Some people seem to think that there's something wrong with me because I Impressed a green dragon. That really irks me all to shards."
Again, Ilesyn goes silent, musing for as much as a minute before she can say anything at all. "People can be cruel. They can be blind, and prejudiced, and downright nasty - and they don't realise how much they can hurt. There isn't anything wrong with you, and you know it. Which is what really matters."
K'dir bites his lower lip and nods. After a moment he asks, "Do you think that...Uhm...that things hurt more from people who we know and look up to, or feel that we are supposed to love?"
"Yes." Ilesyn doesn't need to pause, before saying this - not for a moment. "When we respect someone, we feel as though they should respect who we are, too. It hurts, to not have that reciprocated."
K'dir says softly. "I see. That helps...some."
Ilesyn hesitates. "Does it? I-- er, I'm glad it does. I can't see how it really helps at all. Mostly just a statement."
K'dir says "But it explains why what my brother told me would hurt so much. It's him, not me, but I still get the hurt."
"Ah," says Ilesyn, nodding her head carefully. "I see. Yes."
K'dir gives a sleepy yawn. "I'm sorry," he says. "I think I'd better take Sylviath up. She's satisfied with the rain now, and I'm getting sleepy. I'm glad I got to talk with you again, Ilesyn. It means a lot to me that you'd talk to me."
"Don't be sorry," says Ilesyn, quickly. "I should dry myself, and get to bed, too. Chores. In the morning." If her face contorts with displeasure, it's only for a moment. "I'm glad you talked to me. I always will - whenever you want me to."
K'dir says "You want to wear my coat over to your room?"
Ilesyn shakes her head, quickly. "I couldn't deprive you. It isn't far. I'll run."
K'dir gets up and slips into his still damp coat. "All right, then. Have a good night." He steps over to give yo ua little hug, and even a little kiss on your cheek. He heads out the door, but pauses to turn and give you a little shy smile and a wave before he heads back out into the peacefully pattering rain.
K'dir comes out of the steam room.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 04:52 PM