January 5, 2004
R'hyn and Cardixa reach an understanding, of sorts.

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The beach is much quieter at night - particularly if you walk around the island far enough so that you're out of the way of both Holds and Weyr. R'hyn is sitting high upon a mound of sand mostly formed by the way the tide is moving, his elbows leaning upon his knees, chin in his hands. Arisvath, half-submerged in the waves, is watching him silently, eyes whirling blue-green.

A rush of wings and the sound of a heavy object shifting in the sand is all there is to announce Cardixa's arrival. Slipping from Viasseth's shoulders, she lingers a moment to caress the lowered head, her forehead pressing against the dragon's huge, soft cheek. He snuffles softly, blowing sand, and she looks up and over to R'hyn. Her hand slips from Viasseth as she moves away towards the bronzerider, plodding quietly; Viasseth turns his gaze from her to Arisvath, conveying something silent through eyes of swirling blue.

Dragon> Arisvath senses that Viasseth is the dark rippling waves of a moonlit sea, briny and full of warm breezes. << We knew you would be here. >>

R'hyn has taken his boots off - they're wedged into the sand beside him, his feet dug into the gritty, dark warmth. He doesn't seem, at first, to notice the arrival of Cardixa and Viasseth, even though Arisvath's head is lifted, lapping water muting his quiet rumble. "What's that--" R'hyn speaks vaguely, more to himself, it seems, than to anyone else. Then: "Oh!" He turns, quietly. "Cardixa."

Dragon> Viasseth senses that Arisvath is warm, too - fluffy and cuddly, but deep in layers of something indescribable. << And here we are. Fate brings us together once more. >>

Cardixa comes to a halt next to and slightly in front of him, her hands tucked halfway into her pockets. She's gearless and jacketless in the warm night, outfitted simply in a tunic and slacks. Oddly, she's already barefoot. "Hey." A glance out to sea, and Arisvath. "Can I sit?"

R'hyn's nod is as much of as answer as he seems likely to offer, though the right corner of his mouth does quirk into a half smile. "I missed the sunset," he remarks, conversationally, "which is a shame, because it can be pretty beautiful. The night, though-- it's special in and of itself. Liquid midnight in the water."

There comes the sound of Viasseth falling to a reclined position, his wings and limbs shifting into a more comfortable position. He hums a reply to Arisvath, his tail making circles in the sand, at the same moment Cardixa lowers herself to the ground. Her feet dig into the sand as she slides her legs out in front of her, and her arms out behind, toes and fingers momentarily a-wiggle. "I don't remember if I saw the sunset or not," she confesses quietly, her gaze on some patch of air a few feet in front of her face. "But-- yes." What he said.

"I guess that's one of the things I really miss about having a ledge," continues R'hyn, lazily, one of his feet sliding further down through the sand. "I can't sit up there with just me and Arisvath and the whole world spread out in front of me." He stops, head turning to face Cardixa properly. "I don't even know why I said all that." Arisvath's head is once more dunked down; the bronze, though large, restrains himself from looming through the shallows, instead apparently content to settle as still as possible.

Cardixa squints, her lips pursing together in a thin line before opening-- and closing again. She makes a noise of indistinguishable significance, dismissive and pensive at once. She breathes deeply, tipping her head back as her eyes turn towards Belior. "Well," she begins, exhaling and very pointedly not looking over, "I have a ledge."

R'hyn, the hesitant. R'hyn, the not-so-brave. He turns his head, focusing away from Cardixa. "I suppose you do, too," he says, finally, failing to pick up the potential hooks from this statement. His hands are drawn away from his chin and dropped to the sand beside him.

Cardixa knows him well enough by now to discern when further elaboration is required. Still unwilling to voice her thoughts outright, she clears her throat and says more emphatically, "And you could, you know, use it. If you wanted to."

Beat. "Oh. Thank you. I'd like that. So long as you don't mind me hanging around, and all. I mean... really." R'hyn appears to be trying to look at her at of the corner of his eyes, without making it too obvious - and is failing terribly.

Cardixa looks a bit frustrated, her meaning still not conveyed as she would have liked-- and although she looks as though she'd like to explain further, her shoulders droop a bit, and she decides to let it go. "No, I don't mind." A long pause follows, her gaze dropping adroitly from the sky to her lap. "Where are we, R'hyn?" she asks suddenly.

R'hyn is either unwilling to assume anything - or very, very dense. He glances up in surprise, at her questioning, blinking. "On the be-- oh. Wait. I see. I'm such an idiot." His face crinkles, fingers clutching at sand. He's silent for a time, then, finally, releases his sandy handfuls, and admits, "I don't know. And I don't want to... um, assume anything. Because I might be wrong and upset you, and..."

Cardixa glances over, visibly surprised. "Upset me? Upset me how?"

R'hyn, predictably, begins to turn scarlet. "I don't know! Things upset people. Making assumptions. I don't want to feel stupid."

Which he most certainly does now.

Cardixa shorts, instantly dismissive of /that/ notion. "I'm not upset /that/ easily." Her eyes narrow and widen again, watching his face. "Please. Tell me."

Cardixa snorts, too.

"I know," says R'hyn, sighing. "I'm just more used to women who are." He gazes out over the dark ocean, shoulders slumped slightly. "We're-- I guess that's what we have to figure out. I mean, I, um, like you a lot. I want to see more of you. I want-- I mean, I'm guessing you're saying that it's good for you, too, and you want more of... us, I guess, so that's where we-- I really don't know what I'm saying."

Cardixa is suddenly very interested in her knees. "I really like you, too. And I don't want to sound wimpy, here, because I'm not. But I'm-- well, you could say I'm feeling... guilty? I feel like-- I." She fumbles, makes a face. "I haven't forced you into anything, have I?" The words rush out, and she winces. "Because if I have..."

R'hyn frowns, his head turns. "Guilty? What?" Genuine surprise rings out in his voice, which is pitched a little louder than usual in his reaction. "No, you haven't, not at all. Why would you think that?"

Cardixa's fingers clutch at fistfuls of sand, tightening and relaxing automatically. "Well, I have that kind of personality, you know. And that night in the bathing caverns-- I know that you're not... forward. And I am. But I don't want to have led you somewhere you wouldn't have gone willingly. Because that's... that's /not/ who I am." Her shoulders lift almost to her ears, then drop down again. "So I just need to be sure."

R'hyn nods his head - yes, he knows that, but the motion resolves itself into a shaking of his head, as she continues to speak. "I may not be forward, Cardixa," he says, in a low voice, "but if I /don't/ want something, I'm not too shy to actually say so... not these days, anyway." He reaches out to take her hand, if she'll let him, and squeeze it. "I guess we both, uh, need to worry less... and talk more."

Cardixa lets him, of course, though she can't squeeze back. Her smile is wry as her gaze moves up his arm to his face. "I guess so," she concedes. "Just-- tell me if I'm going too fast, doing something you're not comfortable with. Because this-- you--" Ehem. "Well. I think about you a lot, you know."

"I will," promises R'hyn, meeting her gaze with another of those crooked smiles. The usual blush creeps about his cheeks, as, ducking his head slightly, he admits, "Me, too. I mean... think about you, rather than me, because thinking about me is-- I guess you knew what I meant, huh?"

Cardixa chuckles softly, shifting to press her side against his. "I knew what you meant. I'm getting more and more proficient at taking your meaning. Took lots of hard work. Many sleepless nights. You have no idea."

Still holding her hand, R'hyn lifts his arm up around her shoulder. "That's dedication," he remarks, quietly, voice on the edge of muted laughter. "What should I study up about you, aside from deciphering your subtle hints?"

Cardixa's head drops to his shoulder as his arm goes around her, letting her eyes close for a minute or two as she considers. "Mm. Well," she says after a time, "I-- you know, I honestly haven't the faintest idea."

Cardixa's eyes pop open. "I know. I hate lint."

"Lint?" repeats R'hyn, surprised and amused, his shoulder shaking for a moment in quiet mirth. "Lint it is. I'll make sure all my clothes - and my belly-button - are lint free, just for you. And my sheets."

"Yes!" she exclaims, blinking hard, her free hand raising to jab a finger at nothing. "Navel lint. And toe lint. Toe lint is just awful. It's so... linty." Erm.

R'hyn turns his head to kiss, lightly, the top of Cardixa's head. Smiling, he agrees, "It is, indeed, rather linty. I'll protect you from it."

Cardixa whuffs and wiggles at the same time, adjusting her head to fit a little better against his neck. "My big, strong bronzerider. Where ever would I be without you and your valiant lint protection."

R'hyn looks ridiculously pleased at this idea, squeezing her hand again. "You never know. You might be drowning in lint, right this second. What a terrible way to die."

Cardixa feigns horror, cowering against him. "No! Not /drowning/! It's worse than being Threaded, it's... being linted! Save meeee." There's a rude, distinctly draconic sound from somewhere in the background. Peanut gallery.

R'hyn teasingly pats her head with his free hand, promising, "There, there, I will, of course I will. You'll never be threatened by lint again." Arisvath is more placid; he's watching, yes, but with affection more than taunting mirth.

Cardixa lifts her head to peck him on the jaw. "My hero." She draws her legs up and over, until they're bent and turned slightly to one side. Her right arm slips across his stomach, her sandy fingers clutching at his shirt as she wiggles a bit more. "There. Not moving."

"No objections here," says R'hyn, propping himself up with one hand. "I do believe this is one of the most comfortable ways to sit known to man."

Cardixa smirks. "Which?" she inquires lightly. "Sitting as you are, or having a woman attached to you?"

R'hyn's brows raise, ever so slightly. "Which do you think?"

Cardixa smirks more, and makes a sound to clearly indicate she knows which. Inhaling deeply, she turns her face into his shoulder, her muffled voice declaring, "Mmph. Smell good."

"Sweat, oil and soap smell good?" teases R'hyn, lifting his free hand from the ground to run down Cardixa's head, smoothing her hair beneath his fingers. "Or just on me, perhaps. I'm man enough to wear them."

Cardixa hmphs. "Clearly, you don't appreciate how men smell." Although she says it with utter seriousness, she instantly realizes -- with an inaudible, but still highly apparent "d'oh" -- that yes, that's probably true for a variety of reasons. "I mean. You know. Shut up."

R'hyn's expression says that which he doesn't say in words - oh, there's laughter there, if not audible laughter. "I didn't say anything!" he retorts. "Not a single word." More quietly, though not without that mirth, "Yes, I know."

"Not out loud, but I heard you anyway," Cardixa says, still annoyed with herself. "All that time with Viasseth. Soon I'll be reading minds on my own. And then you're all in trouble."

"Not even safe in my own thoughts," mourns R'hyn, tragically. "I don't know if I'll be able to cope with this." Laughter, suddenly, and a glance towards Arisvath. "He says that if I can't say it outloud, I shouldn't be thinking it. Have to be true to myself."

The depth of the summer night settles in, long and dark. Occasional clouds pepper the otherwise clear sky, drifting idly in a light breeze - barely enough to stir even the finest hair. Being summertime, it's humid and uncomfortable. (77F, 25C)

Cardixa faughs. "They wouldn't know. They don't /have/ to say it out loud. Totally different things." Viasseth makes an indignant noise. "Oh, don't make that sound at me. It's true."

R'hyn nods, shortly. "True. And they can say something to one person, and not risk overhearing, or anything. Plus," he adds, lazily, eyes half closed, "they can illustrate what they mean visually, so they're not mistaken. They can't understand, entirely." Arisvath allows for a knowing huff, to R'hyn's rolled eyes.

Cardixa gives a shallow yawn, freeing one hand long enough to rub at her eyes with a few fingers -- quickly, though, as if she doesn't want to be parted from him longer than she has to be. Her arm's back around his waist almost immediately. "Mm. Convenient, that imaging ability. Would save us so much time." She grins wickedly. "It has lots of practical applications, come to think of it."

"Don't think I haven't thought of such things," agrees R'hyn, with that traditional quirked smile. "Arisvath doesn't taunt over such things, but he does get kind of smug, even if he's too sincere to want to make me jealous." Glancing down, he offers, in a low voice, "You look tired. Shall I take you home and tuck you in?"

"I'm not tired," she lies, yawning more hugely. "--Well. A /little/ tired. But getting up requires so much more effort than I'm willing to put forth. I need incentive."

R'hyn smoothes her hair with his fingers again. "Liar," he accuses, then, "that's better. Incentive? What kind of incentive are you thinking of, mmm?"

Cardixa bats feebly at his hand. "Dun do that. Makes me tired...er." Uh oh. Vocabulary's failing. She manages to wake herself up a little more, though. "Well. I'm a busy woman, you know. Wingleadering's hard work. Makes it a lot harder to get up from sitting positions. And since I can thank /you/ for my appointment, I think it's only fair that you compensate me accordingly for making the effort to rouse myself."

"Try the Weyrleadership!" teases R'hyn, though he draws his hand back, smiling. "It was Shiae's fault, more than mine. She was better at things like that." Head tilted to the side, he queries, "Have you something in mind, then, dear?"

Cardixa snorts. "Well, she's not here right now. -- Do /I/ have something in mind? No, see. /You/ have to give /me/ incentive. Saving me from the Evil Lint is close, but not quite enough." She stretches. "'Course, we can stay here all night, if that's what you want."

R'hyn has, for a moment, an expression of disappointment upon his face; he's not getting off that easily. "Well," he says, thinking. "What if I take you home and rub your poor, poor Wingleader's back so you don't age too quickly with stress, and cuddle you until you fall asleep?"

Cardixa considers this. She's fading fast, so she'll take what she can get. "It's a start," she decides. "The cuddle part's nice."

"I just thought you'd be too tired for anything more," adds R'hyn, mildly. "But if you're not... Come on."

Cardixa mmphs. "We'll just see about that."

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