July 25, 2004
Before heading home, R'hyn stops in to see Cardixa.

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Dragon> Viasseth senses that Arisvath sounds slightly grumpy, as though he's been dragged away from Siramyth, and it's cold - and, well, actually, that's probably accurate. << R'hyn wants to know if we could visit? And where your ledge is, here? >>

Dragon> Arisvath senses that Viasseth responds after a few seconds, his own attention divided. << You may. We are *here*. >> He visualizes a ledge in the northeastern sky.

Dragon> Viasseth senses that Arisvath allows, after a moment's pause, a brief response: << Our thanks. >>

You land on Viasseth's ledge.

** For Cardixa, the room is a mess. Boxes are everywhere, drawers filled with neatly folded clothes are half-open, and half of her personal possessions are strewn about wherever there's room for them. She's on her hands and knees on her bed, her back to the ledge, struggling with the sheets-- but at the sound of wingbeats, she growls without turning around, "I'm busy."

** Arisvath circles in for a landing upon the ledge, rumbling a quiet greeting to Viasseth as, carefully, he attempts to take up as little room as possible. R'hyn, once he's dismounted, hesitates. "Shall I come back in a day or two, then?" he wonders, his voice nearly too quiet to carry.

Arisvath crouches low, allowing you to swing your leg over his neckridges, and climb nimbly towards the ground, with the help of his straps.

Cardixa freezes. "--Oh. It's you." Clearly, Viasseth left some crucial information out. The brownrider resumes her bedmaking twice as fiercely. "What do you want."

R'hyn takes a few more steps in, digging his hands into his jacket. "I don't know. To say hi. To... talk, maybe. Whatever. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have come." He glances around the room, then adds, "I could help make the bed, if you liked."

Cardixa's voice is rough as she climbs off the bed, still avoiding his gaze as she walks around to the other side and, dropping to her knees, tugs down on the sheets. "I've got it. Thanks." Viasseth snuffles quietly from his ledge, and his rider pauses again, slumping back on her heels. "--I'm sorry."

"For?" R'hyn hesitates, edging up against the wall nearest the door. He shakes some ice from his boot, then glances at it guiltily, finally turning his gaze away.

"Acting like this," Cardixa says, pulling herself onto the foot of the bed, her socked feet crossing contritely at the ankles. "It's stupid. I should know better."

R'hyn swallows thickly, and then shrugs. "It's okay. You can act how you like - I can probably take or. I'll have to get used to it. Do you want me to leave?"

"No," she says quickly, forcefully. "--Please don't leave."

"I'll stay," he says, nodding. "Um. How are you? How's-- stuff?" Lame. He's struggling.

Cardixa looks at the wall, at her lap, at her hands. "It's okay," she lies.

R'hyn's brows raise - he's unconvinced. "Really?"

"No," she says flatly. Her voice breaks on just that one syllable, and she closes her eyes. "No. It's awful."

R'hyn leans his head back against the cold wall, and lets the silence last for a few moments. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Cardixa sits silently, hesitantly. "I hate it here," she says eventually, decisively. "I hate the cold, I hate the politics. I hate not having my rank, I hate feeling useless and out of the loop." And now it's all coming at once, and she's tripping on herself, and when her eyes open, they're moist and unfocused, her face contorted with anger at The Injustice of It All. "I'm lonely, I'm homesick, I feel alienated and confused and /now/, of /all/ things, *you're* the Weyrleader and that just makes it all ten times worse and I just don't /know/."

R'hyn swallows this, piece by piece, his face slightly ashen - definitely more noticeable by the time she gets to the end. "I'm sorry, for the last," he offers, quietly. "It makes a lot of things a lot more complicated, I know. And--" There aren't really words, so he shuts his mouth again.

"It's not your fault," she says on the end of a whisper. She glowers, sniffs, and scrubs fiercely at her eyes. "--Aggh," she adds, tilting her head back and looking at the ceiling, blinking, blinking, blinking. "I'm sorry."

"No," agrees R'hyn, "But that won't stop me from feeling that way. Have you got a handkerchief somewhere? And don't be sorry - really, don't."

Cardixa sniffs hard. "Agh. Um. Somewhere." She casts a hopeless look around the room. "I don't know where."

R'hyn digs his, out of his pocket, and, cautiously, approaches to offer it. "It's clean."

Cardixa rubs her eyes again before gingerly taking the handkerchief. "Thanks." The sound that issues as she utilizes said handkerchief is not at all pretty.

R'hyn doesn't seem to mind, his hand dropping back into his pocket. He stays where he is, gingerly making sure that he isn't stepping on anything. "Is there anything I can do? I mean-- we're all kind of in this together, now. Istans, in an unfriendly, cold, and downright unpleasant Fort.

Noticing this, Cardixa ventures, "You can sit, if you want." She wipes at her nose again before heaving a ragged, heavy sigh. "I don't know. I don't envy you at all."

R'hyn nods, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "Thanks." Expelling a long breath, he nods. "If there was anything that would make the situation here worse, it was this. It's a peculiar feeling, to be hated by people who don't even know you."

Cardixa nods mutely. Though her head is half-bowed, she turns it and looks askance at him, waiting to see if there's more. She fidgets with the handkerchief.

"So," R'hyn continues, after a while, "I guess what I'm saying is... is that things are all messed up, and I just wish I could do something to help. You, Kiora, everyone. Part of me just wants to leave today and never come back. Want to run away with me?"

Cardixa laughs mirthlessly. "Sure. Let's go right now. We'll go to the Western archipelago somewhere and find a tiny island and everyone else will just have to deal with it."

R'hyn, with only the hint of a smile, nods his head. "Right, that's settled then. Is there-- is there /anything/ good about things, here?"

Cardixa sighs again, rubbing her eyes with one hand, which she lets drag down the side of her face and into her lap with a *whap*. "Well, it's... it's a very /nice/ Weyr," she says lamely. "The facilities are excellent." She looks at him again, almost shyly. "--And you're here now, but I haven't really determined if that's good or bad yet."

"I've heard it gets warmer in the summer, but never too hot. I guess that's a good thing, right?" R'hyn is thinking hard, and busies himself by trying to dig his hands deeper into his pockets, which are hardly deep enough for his hands to begin with. "Ah, I see. How're you going to try and determine that one?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," she admits, distractedly watching his fidgeting. "I guess I-- well, no, I really don't have the faintest idea."

R'hyn finds a hole in his pocket, and wiggles his finger through. "Oh. Well, when you figure it out, I'd quite like to know. Just, you know, for my own piece of mind."

Cardixa looks up for the thousandth time, her eyebrows pushing together. "What do /you/ think?"

"About if it's good or bad that I'm here?" R'hyn takes a moment to think, then declares, "Both. Because I think you need a friend, but I think-- well. Plenty of problems with my being here."

Cardixa looks inexplicably disappointed. "Oh. A friend."

R'hyn's eyebrows raise. "At the very least," he says, quietly.

Cardixa shifts a little. "So you're not-- you and Kiora aren't-- Are you?"

R'hyn says, without missing a beat, "No."

Feeel the relief. "Okay. Okay." Good. Yes. "...I /am/ glad you're here. I feel guilty about that because I know how hard this is going to be, but. I'm glad."

R'hyn looks pleased by this, and actually smiles. "I've missed you," he notes. "It's not as though you've been here that long, but still. Even just seeing you around."

"A month," she says, annoyed now. "A month and I'm still only half unpacked. Pathetic."

"I can't blame you," replies R'hyn. "Unpacking, when you're not even happy to be in a place? Ugh. Though it might make you feel more at home, if you have things more, you know, orderly."

Cardixa whuffs and looks around, running one hand through her hair. "Yeah, maybe. It just requires so much effort." She stretches and then slumps again, and somehow in that process has managed to scoot about an inch or two closer to him. Funny how that works. "--Thanks for coming."

R'hyn nose wrinkling, admits, "I'm not looking forward to having to do my packing and unpacking. I /like/ my current weyr, and the way it's set up." He doesn't seem to notice the movement, though he's turned slightly to face her better. "I'm glad I did."

Cardixa smiles dryly. "Yeah, but *now* you'll get The Big Weyr," she says, affecting awe and cheerfulness. "...with The Big Bed." Hint.

"It's probably a scary bed. You know, huge and towering with carving and stuff," mourns R'hyn. "Horrible to sleep in, alone."

"Miserable," she agrees with a shake of the head. "If /only/ there was someone you could /share/ it with. But who?" She skews her features up into an expression of deep thought, complete with poked-out tongue and squinty eyes.

"Mmm," says R'hyn. "I mean, there's /someone/, but... no, she'd probably just say no." At least he's smiling, now - a real smile, if not effusively cheerful.

Cardixa scoffs. "You mean that washed-up Wingleader from Ista? Pah. Worthless."

R'hyn shakes his head. "No, I meant that witty, attractive Brownrider at Fort. You think she might actually say yes, if I asked?"

Cardixa squints and edges away. "I dunno," she says suspiciously. "How attractive /is/ this brownrider?"

R'hyn gives Cardixa an appraising glance. "Well, /I/ think she's very attractive, personally."

"Really. I think I'll have to inspect this brownrider for myself." Then, very matter-of-factly, Cardixa pulls her collar away from herself and looks down her shirt, thoughtfully hmmming and hawing before looking up with a grunt. "Hmph. I don't think so. Not busty enough. And anyway, she's covered in snot."

R'hyn huhs, head shaking. "You don't know what you're seeing, then." He reaches for her hand, squeezing it, if she'll let him.

Of course she will. She blushes a little, too, though worry clouds her expression, and she plucks at her comforter with her free hand. "In all seriousness... do you want to-- I mean, would your being Weyrleader--" she pauses there, swallowing it-- "interfere?"

R'hyn bites his lip, nodding. "I'd-- I'd like to. I think we could /try/, anyway. My being," he seems reluctant to say the title, and pauses, "might make it harder. Time-wise. But it shouldn't interfere, really." After a pause, he adds, "Er, which wing are you in, though? Because if you're in mine, that might need to change."

"I didn't even think about that," Cardixa admits. "But it was N'wyn's, so-- I guess it's yours now, by default." Whoops.

R'hyn's nose wrinkles. "I never though I'd have to lead a Wing again. I'm cursed, or something. So-- okay, I'll try and figure that out. I hate to uproot you again, though."

Cardixa waves her free hand dismissively. "I haven't had enough time in my current Wing for it to make much of a difference. And we're all bound to get rearranged anyhow." She smirks, then, after a moment's thought. "Funny, how I give up leading a Wing and you pick it up."

"I'll see what I can do, then. I just think it might be too hard, if I were your Wingleader." R'hyn makes a face, and adds, "'Funny' is not quite the word. Though, all right, I get what you mean. Why /did/ you decide to do that? It must be hard to get used to."

Cardixa shrugs. "I felt obligated to, I guess. I figured if it didn't work out, I could always just go back to Ista. And-- I don't know. I guess I didn't expect it would be this hard."

R'hyn remarks, slowly, "I think it's a brave thing to have done. Selfless. It's kind of nice, that so many Istans could get over their animosity to Fort, and leave their homes to go help them. I couldn't do it."

Cardixa snorts. "'Selfless.' I don't know about /that/. I mean, maybe it is, but I don't know about brave. Fighting Thread at Ista, fighting Thread at Fort... it'll kill you just the same." She shrugs and idly fidgets with his fingers. "Wingleaders are replaceable. But they /needed/ us."

"It is brave," insists R'hyn, still holding Cardixa's hand, and, every so often, stroking it with his calloused fingers. "To go to a place where you're not going to be welcome, even though you're needed? Leaving your home always requires braveness, because it means leaving behind all the things you know and love."

"Home's eight seconds away," she points out. "--I mean," she attaches hurriedly, with a smile, "I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But I just consider it part of the job. Everyone else on this planet thinks dragonriders are invincible, special..." 'Magical' and 'superhuman,' sadly, are not in her vocabulary, so she struggles a little to find the words. "But we all know we're not. Most of us didn't even ask for this. We're 'special,' sure, but-- not." She makes a face. "I'm not making any sense tonight."

R'hyn, after a pause, nods. "I think I get you. We're special in some ways, but it doesn't make us any less like anyone else, in the basest sense. We're just like other people. I think," he adds, smiling, "I'm just a homebody. The idea of leaving voluntarily - these days, anyway - feels awful. I think my Mother is going to kill me."

Cardixa nods gratefully. "Yes. That's what I mean. So when you say I'm 'selfless' and 'brave'-- I'm that way because I have to be, and so are you. It's not special. It's just the reality." She smiles and snorts at his latter remark. "I've never lived anywhere else but Ista Island. I know what you mean."

R'hyn, quietly, adds, "I guess we just get used to doing things we don't want to, because we know we need to. Part of adulthood, facing up to our responsibilities. I was homesick the entire time I lived at Southern, but I didn't want to admit to failure at being independent. I hope I can get used to it, this time."

Cardixa gives one of her wan smiles. "We can figure it out and screw it up together. I won't tell anyone you're incompetent." She says this last with a totally straight face.

"My secret is safe, then," laughs R'hyn, lazily. "Good to know you're more or less on my side."

Cardixa kisses him then, suddenly and awkwardly, as though for the first time, and her hand abruptly becomes quite clammy.

R'hyn, for a moment, is surprised - though perhaps he shouldn't have been, but it's a good surprise, anyway - but it's only a short moment, and then he is kissing her, his fingers twining through hers.

Cardixa snort-sighs-- you know the one. The one where all the tension runs out into whatever you happen to be sitting or lying on at the time, and with it comes one hugely noisy sigh right out the nose because the kiss feels too good to break. The other hand sneaks around to his waist, and she curls her fingers around his and squeezes for dear life. Viasseth hums a little in the background.

R'hyn's eyes close contentedly, his own free hand lifted to cradle her neck, fingers tangling themselves in loose hairs. He matches her squeeze, clasping her hand tightly, as though he never wants to let go. Arisvath remains silent, but he has one eye focused, unlidded, upon the entrance to the weyr - and, okay, there's a whuff of contented air there, too.

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