February 21, 2004
R'hyn rescues Kella from a storm, and accidentally causes her to get a crush on him.

Previous Next

Rain falls down from the black sky; the night is lit only by the flashes of lightning, and one wavering glow. A dazed figure runs out of the jungle and tumbles onto the beach, sprawling in the sand. The glow falls from the girl's hand, and rolls towards the water where the waves bat at it.

R'hyn must be excused for not noticing at once that he's no longer alone. There aren't many people who'll brave the beach on such a night, yet here he is - soaked to the skin, settled out in the open upon the sand with a sodden towel beneath him, watching, with an almost reverence, the dramatic beauty of the storm overhead. Nonetheless, the rolling glow does, eventually, attract his attention, and the man turns his head. "Who's there?"

"K-k-kella!" comes the chattered reply; the girl answers automatically, and she rises to her feet and stumbles after the glow. A flash of lightning illuminates the man, and she freezes, biting at her lips. "S-sorry to have disturbed," she manages, pushing back her rain-matted hair and brushing sand from her soaked night-dress as well.

"Not my beach," insists R'hyn at once, lunging to his feet and taking a few steps forward. "Goodness. What are you doing out here?" Nevermind that he's just as wet as she. He ineffectually offers his wet towel towards her, then hesitates. "Not much good, there. Er..."

"My brother. He... he snuck out to look for firelizard eggs, or at least that's what I heard. I came to look for him before mother woke and blamed me. But I couldn't find him, and the storm broke and... well, here I am." She pauses her tale to look at the towel. "It's alright. But thank you anyway."

R'hyn lowers his arm again, holding the towel somewhat apologetically. "I haven't see him," he admits, glancing around the darkened beach. "Nor heard him, but I suspect I wouldn't have noticed you, either, if it weren't for the glow. Er, are you sure he hasn't gone back already? Inside? I don't think your mother would, um, be happy with your coming down with a fever or something, if he was never out in the first place."

"I doubt she'd much care, as long as her son was safe," murmurs Kella with a shrug. Then she shakes herself, and manages a smile. "It's awfully kind of you to be so considerate, and rude of me to grumble. I hope you'll excuse me." She wraps her arms around herself, chilled, but her eyes are lifted towards the flashing sky.

R'hyn, with brows raised, looks surprised. "I'm sure that's not true," he insists, somewhat more sharply than intended. "No--no, not at all. Er, can I help, at all? I mean..." he blushes - visible only for a moment through a flash of lighting, should she be looking in her direction. "I could try. Something. Maybe."

"Make time go back seventeen Turns and make sure my mother goes back to her hold that night?" asks the girl cryptically. Then she sighs. "I am sorry. I've spent the last while lost in the underbrush scared to death for my brother and feeling sorry for myself. I know it's not helpful." She takes a step closer to the man, and then flushes herself. "I just want to be warm."

R'hyn's expression takes on a more confused note, though he doesn't query the girl, and, wringing out his towel, suggests, "Why don't I lead you back to the weyr, then, and we'll get you dry? You can check and see if your brother is still gone, and if he is, we'll see if we can't get some people on it. All right?"

"I..." Kella regards the man closely, then bows her head. "I've disturbed you so much already sir, and... and you were watching the storm... I can find my way back, really..." Her voice trails off uncertainly, and she sighs. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"It's getting late," says R'hyn, shrugging his shoulders, "And /my/ mother would be horrified to see me this wet for no good reason. I honestly don't mind. Er," he pauses, then adds, "I'm R'hyn. No need to call me sir, and if you are babbling, I'm hardly the person to blame... I do it, too."

"I hope he isn't out in this," murmurs Kella, shivering again. "My brother. Rogan." She pauses and takes another step closer, stumbling in the sand. She looks down at her bare feet and frowns. "I should have had the sense to put some proper clothes on. If I take a fever it will be my own fault." despite the sternness in her tone, she does manage a smile. "Thank you, R'hyn."

R'hyn pulls off his sweater, moving to wrap it about Kella's shoulders - if she'll let him. It's wet, but still warm enough to make some kind of difference. "So do I," agrees the rider, with a shake of his head. "You're welcome. Er-- Kella, was it?" he offers his hand, adding, "Come on."

"Yes si-- R'hyn. Kella," the girl murmurs, and she lets him put his sweater around her shoulders. She slips her hand into his, wrapping her cold fingers around his. "I work mostly in the kitchens. And sometimes help with the wounded dragons. I haven't found a proper craft or job just yet."

"Cold hands," remarks R'hyn, quietly, "But not surprising." He listens, his head tilted to the side, as he hurriedly leads her up the path - back towards the weyr. "Kitchen work is a proper job. Lots of people do it their entire life. You're not an official dragonhealer, then? That's a proper job, too."

The girl stumbles along beside him, only half watching where she is going. "I don't want to work in the kitchens all my life," she says quietly. "Though I am good with bread. Not an official dragonhealer, but that's.... what I would choose, if I could. At least then... I could be with the dragons, you know." She pauses, then looks up with a shy smile.

R'hyn, with a somewhat surprised expression, wonders, "Then why haven't you officially done so? You'd probably still have to work in the kitchens, at least some of the time, but you'd be getting closer to having some kind of... you know, focus, or something." He matches the smile - his is equally shy, and somewhat bashful for his long string of words. "Careful-- there's a root, there."

"I'm sixteen Turns, only just, and my mother wouldn't allow it. I think if it were up to her, I'd never see a dragon." Kella shrinks closer to the rider, catching her foot on the root but at least not stumbling. "It isn't that I mind terribly working in the kitchen... it's just I feel..." She looks up at him. "Dragons choose who they will. But I can love them and help them all the same, can't I?"

R'hyn's brows raise. "At sixteen, you're an adult. You can do whatever you like," he comments. He turns, to watch Kella curiously. "Ah. Dreams. Of course you can. You can always move into the dorms, and, you know, do as you like, you know."

"I haven't been sixteen very long," muses Kella. "Though I wouldn't mind living in the dorms. Most of my free time I have... I look after my brothers and sister. But when I can I sneak away and watch the real healers in the infirmary. And I've done sketches..." She pauses, then coughs. "You really think it would be a good idea? If my mother doesn't kill me tonight, that is?"

R'hyn makes a sound of disgust, shaking his head. "Kella... you're an adult from the moment you start taking on adult jobs - fourteen, usually. You shouldn't have to do all that kind of thing, not unless you want to." Flushing, he adds, "I'm probably preaching heresy, or something. /I/'d do it." He hesitates. "Well. I hope I would."

"They aren't bad children, most of the time," Kella murmurs. "Just spoiled. Mother wanted them, you see. And they have a proper father." Kella snorts, then looks up with a smile. "I will do it, then. And maybe if I'm acceptable to the dragonhealers I won't have to listen to people yelling about my lumpy gravy." She gives a mournful sigh. "If my gravy were any lumpier, it would be wherry eggs."

"Sounds like an awkward situation," yells R'hyn, over the sound of the rain - and a boom of thunder. He winces, and ducks into a quicker pace, verging on a run as he makes for the weyr buildings, hurrying Kella along with him. "Good! -- Oh. Er. You don't make gravy often, do you?"

"No!" Kella calls back, tripping on the hem of her nightdress as he starts to run, going down on her knees and leaping up again to follow. "I...' she pants, "make... bread. Most always!... It's what I'm good at. I... made the round... brown loaves... yesterday. With the berries and nuts..."

R'hyn, panting, frowns. "Bread? Oh! Oh -- I /like/ that stuff. You're good at it. Ever thought of the Bake Craft?" He comes to a halt, the rain rushing down on him, then grimaces: "Your nightgown is not much good for this, is it? Er-- I'd carry you, but... Not far now, though."

Kella blushes visibly as the rider speaks of carrying her, and she doesn't dare look up at him. "If the dragonhealers don't want me, I suppose I will," answers the girl. "Think of the Bake Craft, that is. And no, the nightgown isn't much good... and ruined by now anyway. Bare feet are just as bad, though." She shakes her head, sending water everywhere.

"The laundry can often do wonders," R'hyn assures Kella, with a brief, nervous smile. "True. Try... er, try and be a little more sensible next time, mm?" He picks up the pace again, making for another dash across the weyr bowl. "Arisvath has forwarded a message on. We're to go straight to the infirmary, where there are towels waiting."

"My mother works in the laundry," Kella murmurs. Then she stops, her brow furrowing in dismay. "You woke your dragon for me? Oh... oh dear, I didn't mean to cause such trouble. But... the infirmary? I... I need to check on my brother..."

"He was awake," R'hyn promises. "No, no, don't fret. Just towels, and a hearth to warm in front of, without messing up Ismaye's caverns. You can check on your brother right away, once you're dry."

Kella stares at R'hyn silently for a moment, then lowers her head and giggles. It is a shy, stifled sound, and she quells it almost immediately. She pads beside him, shivering, her breath still panting. "Thank you," she finally manages.

The warmth of the infirmary is immediately a relief; R'hyn releases a deep breath, and a long sigh of relief, as he accepts a towel instantly offered by one of the Infirmary aides, ready and waiting. "You're welcome," he murmurs - a little belatedly - to Kella, with a hesitant smile.

"And thanks to... to Arisvath too," murmurs Kella, taking the towel offered her and wrapping it around herself. In the light, she looks more bedraggled than ever, muddy and bruised and scratched, and with her nightgown stained and torn. "Even if he was awake, it is still kind of him. And I shall bake you your very own loaf tomorrow." She pauses, coughing, and then shrugs. "I mean, if that isn't presuming too much."

R'hyn turns around, modestly, stripping off his wet shirt, though he keeps his pants on. Towel wrapped more tightly about his upper body, he smiles. "Arisvath says you're quite welcome. -- No, not at all. I'd like that." He bows his head, quietly, then stifles a sneeze. "Do keep me up to date with what you decide to do, mm?"

"I will," answers the girl, a bit breathless. She watches him with wide eyes, and then of a sudden makes an odd sound in the back of her throat and turns around. She tugs off the sweater, and holds it out to him, keeping her eyes tightly closed. "I... ermm... here, R'hyn."

"Oh," says the rider, almost surprised. "Thanks." He accepts the jumper, holds it hesitantly, then drops it on top of his shirt. "Have to try and get those dried out, I guess." The Infirmary Aide hands him a mug of something hot - tea, it looks like - and offers similar to Kella.

"I... I could wash and dry it for you," offers Kella, her voice softer now, shy again. "I mean, well... I suppose you would have been wet through even without me. Sopping wet." She takes the tea and sips it, then sets down the cup so she can turn and tug off her nightgown. "I hope your dragon gives you a thorough scolding." This last is a bit muffled, as she tugs the sodden gown off over her head.

R'hyn repositions his hands upon his towel, and shakes his head. "No need, really. I'll just send them off to the laundry - they probably needed doing, anyway. Really, it's okay." He keeps his eyes carefully averted, even while she's turned away, then laughs. "Oh, he will. My mother'd be worse, if she heard, but I should be all right on that count. Dix'll tell me I should've just gone to her place, and watched from there."

Despite herself, Kella laughs, as she wraps towels around herself. "You can turn back, now. I'm covered, at least." She turns to face him; two towels have been deftly draped and tied about her. "Good for him, then. I know my mother will scold me, but not about getting wet. It'll either be for letting my brother out... or for ruining my gown. Not for getting wet. And she'll birth a watch-wher if she finds out I've been with you."

"Not allowed to be anywhere with a man? Even if he /is/ supposed to be respectable?" R'hyn shakes his head: "If she does find out, I'll swear to her black and blue that I in no way, er, you know. I think I have a reasonably good reputation... I mean, I hope." He turns back, flushing shyly.

"A man, maybe. A man who is a dragonrider? No. They exist to seduce young, innocent girls." Kella says this with a straight face, but she lifts up her chin, and her eyes glint. "That's what she tells me and that's what she thinks of you all... and me." She shrugs. "So I wouldn't worry about swearing anything to her, R'hyn. You won't change her mind."

R'hyn hmphs, with mock disgust. "Well - that's most discouraging." He grins, good naturedly, warming his hands in front of the hearth, now that he's set his tea down. "Sounds like you and your mother would do better away from each other."

"How do you think she ended up with me in the first place?" Kella asks, shaking her head. She seats herself on the floor beside the hearth, still shivering. "And I would like to be away from her... but..." She pauses, then shrugs. "I don't know." Then she adds in a softer voice, "And no one's ever tried to seduce me either." She sighs.

"Ah," says R'hyn, calmly. "Do you know who your father is, or will she not tell you?" He follows suit, sitting down with his legs crossed. "Give it time. You'll figure out how to get your independence. At worst, you could Apprentice and move to the Hold, or something. -- No? Well... er, most of us try and /not/ seduce people, and all. It's an awful reputation to have."

"She won't tell me. I don't suppose I'll ever know. I just know he was a dragonrider." She glances over at R'hyn, and gives him another shy smile. "Who would want to seduce me anyway? I'm graceful as a new-hatched wherry, and have my siblings hanging on me as often than not. But..." She pauses, glancing down and rubbing the edge of her towel against a cut on her foot. "I don't want to move to a hold. I'm weyrbred. And holds... don't have dragons.'

R'hyn merely nods, sympathetically. "I know who mine is, but we've not talked more than once or twice, and it's not a... you know, relationship. At all." Reaching up to rub some of the water from his hair, the rider shrugs. "It'll happen. I didn't have a relationship until I was in my twenties." He flushes at that, turning his head away. "Ah. Well. You'll find something, I'm sure."

"I don't mean you to think I..." Kella flushes, and looks down. "It was all much simpler when men were either as desirable as tunnel snakes or huge, unapproachable creatures. I know I'm babbling, and I'm sorry. You're terribly kind, though. It means a lot." She sighs, and bites at her lip. "I watch you, you riders, when you fly off to fight Thread. So many of you... could be my father. So many of your dragons... could be the one my father rides. I don't know who he is... so... I love the lot of you and I won't leave. Not while there is something useful I can do here."

"No, no, no," insists R'hyn, encouragingly. "It's all right, really. I can understand how you feel, really." He keeps his voice low, and smiles, hesitantly. "I'm sure your father would love you, if he knew who you were."

Kella glances at his face, and her lips quirk. "You don't know quite what to make of me, do you? Or at least, begging your pardon, you seem not to. And I always thought bronzeriders... Arisvath /is/ a bronze, isn't he? ...were confident about everything."

R'hyn bursts into immediate, embarrassed laughter. "No," he admits, finally. "I, er-- I'm not, um, one of the confident ones. Hence why I made such a poor leader." Shaking his head, he adds, "I'm trying, though."

"I'm sorry!" cries Kella, though she laughs as well. "I told you I babble! But... it's just... well... you seem almost as shy as I feel... and I never..." She straightens herself, stifling a cough. "Your dragon believes in you, doesn't he? And now, I believe in you too. So... that's two. A good start for a leader."

R'hyn blinks once, and then again. "No, no, I don't mind. I'm... yeah, I'm pretty shy." Smiling ruefully, he adds, "You'd never pick me for former harper, former Weyrleader and Wingleader, or bronzerider, would you?" He picks up his tea again - mug refilled - and adds, "Well, I guess so. Erm. Thank you. Really, though, I'd far rather just be... a wingrider. Just me."

"I don't know if I'd pick you for any of those," admits Kella. "But I'd pick you for a friend, if it means anything." She smiles warmly, looking directly at him, the shyness fading for the moment. "You could have treated me like a silly girl or a nuisance. Many would. You didn't. It means a lot to me."

R'hyn grins broadly, "And yet, here I am," he murmurs. Dipping his head, he adds, "Thank you. I-- well, I don't see the point of treating anyone like either of those things. So, you know, you're more than welcome."

"I'd like to hear you sing, though. Harper I could maybe imagine. The rest... well, your dragon chose you, so I guess he'll have to explain." She grins, then looks down. "Anyway... I... I should go find my brother." Her voice becomes reluctant, and she winces as she draws her feet under her.

"I was a boy soprano," R'hyn admits. "I still sing, but not as well as I did, then. Oh--" he breaks off, and flushes. "I should not have kept you. Yes, do go check on your brother. If you have any problems, please-- I'd be happy to help."

"No... no, really, you haven't kept me." Kella rises to her feet, then takes a few limping steps. "I'd really much rather stay and talk. I mean... well... ermm.. that doesn't sound right, does it? I..." She sighs, shaking her head. "You've been so nice and talking has been wonderful and I could stay for hours more if I wouldn't bore you to death. But... I have to be responsible..."

"Then," says R'hyn, rising to his feet. "We'll take the time to talk again, soon. When you don't need to be as responsible - even if you have to have your siblings with you. My daughter is nearly three - I'm sure they'd play well together."

Kella says, "I'm... keeping you from your weyrmate too? I'm sorry!" Flushing again, Kella looks away, chewing at her lip. "I... I...' She starts to walk away, then stumbles. "I suppose I should bandage them up before I go find him. I know I walked through a thornbush, at least."

"No, no," says R'hyn - for the third time in the evening. "I'm not weyrmated. I just have a daughter." He flushes red, then adds, "Oh, dear... Er, good luck?"

"Ooohhh..." Kella falls silent a moment, seeming to struggle. 'I'm sorry. I don't seem to know quite what to say to you. You're kind, you're thoughtful... you're..." she squawks something that might be the word 'cute'. "And I'm sixteen and... well... umm... about as naive as my mother thinks I am. To me... you seem well... rather grand and dashing. I almost hoped you would have carried me." She pauses again, an expression of near-horror on her face. "Maybe I /am/ feverish."

R'hyn turns brightly scarlet. "That's, um... flattering." Squeak. He doesn't seem to know what to say more than that.

For a long moment Kella chews at her lip, staring at him. "I'm sorry!" she cries out at last, then turns to dash towards the exit, forgetting her feet for the time being.

R'hyn hesitates, then sighs. "Well..." The Infirmary Aide smirks at him, and he flushes.

One last look Kella gives the dragonrider before vanishing into the tunnels of the living quarters, sobbing. All she leaves behind are a faint patterning of blood from one foot, and the bedraggled remains of her nightgown on the floor of the infirmary.

Previous Next