A Turning Point?

Legal stuff: This is not fanfic, but a record of roleplay done with permission from Anne McCaffrey.

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Log file from Kariel

Igen Weyr -- Cold Stores (used as the wine celler for this scene)
Contents:
K'dris
Obvious exits:
Stairs

K'dris is /trying/ to be quiet, and surrupticious, and all that sneaky stuff. He's just not very good at it, really. I mean, he's left the door leading from the cold stores to the wine cellar open -- which is a dead give away, given that the door's always locked. In the cellar itself, the Weyrleader (quite dusty, by now) is trying to reach some skins near the back of the shelves.

Kariel moves towards him, her sandaled feet not making a sound on the stone floor. "Whatcha doin', Weyrleader?" she asks suddenly, her voice very loud in the otherwise silent cellar. Not to mention she's right behind him before she says it.

Oh, /no/. Don't do that. Sneak up on a Weyrleader who's precariously perched at best, near a shelf of wines. He starts, whirling -- looking awfully guilty, too -- and grabs at the shelf for balance, causing two of the skins nearest the front to topple. "Um. Oh -- yes. Those are the ones I was after. Really."

Kariel muffles a giggles behind her hand. "You look like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, Ked," she teases.

K'dris flushes, and straightens, "I'm allowed in here, aren't I?" Of course, he didn't have a key before -- but now with Matty gone.. "I was actually looking for you," he says, possibly to change the subject, hazel gaze flickering to the skins and crouching to heft them both.

Kariel ohs? "Well, you found me. And a little something else, it seems." She grins. "Or rather, I found you. I take it, then, if you were looking for me you have something on your mind?"

K'dris concentrates a moment on the 'skins, frowning as he brushes away dust to peer at the Turn date. Setting one back on the shelf, the other he keeps casually in hand. "No! Well, I mean, yes, but not like /that/ -- I mean, I don't just want to talk to you when I have something on my mind. I actually wanted to ah.. thank you.. for /letting/ me do just that. So -- here." Free hand digs in his pouch, to offer carefully wrapped bottle -- which, when opened, will prove to be flowery-smelling perfume.

Kariel carefully unwraps the package, her puzzled look fading into a soft smile when she sees what's in it. "Perfume?" she asks, lifting the bottle to sniff it. "This wouldn't be the same stuff a certain Benden rider you told me about sent you, would it?" her words are teasing, but her smile is still soft, and is her gaze when she looks up at you. Impulsively, she stretches up onto her toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you...No one has ever given me perfume before."

Guilty as charged? K'dris looks momentarily sheepish, before admitting, "I visited Carialla today, and she said it was all right as a personal use -- to give it to someone. She said it would have been cheating to give it to Matty, regardless, so--" he gestures towards the perfume. "She said I owed you for being a friend and being there to listen after.. after everything with Mataya. I hope you don't mind that I didn't get it myself. If I had, it'd probably have ended up smelling like wet wherry feathers, or something!"

Kariel laughs, cradling the bottle against her chest. "It wouldn't matter to me if it did. It's the thought that counts," she assures him. "I'm happy to listen, though, even if I don't get gifts for it. Actually, speaking of Mataya, I /did/ want to talk to you. How..." She hesitates, as if reconsidering, then asks anyway. "How are you taking things, really?"

K'dris lets out his breath faintly, looking relieved. "I was a bit worried -- Cari didn't seem to think it'd matter either. She /was/ being awfully generous, though -- I guess she hasn't yet got the garish tapestry I sent her, or I doubt she'd had been as kind," he adds with wry grin, keeping tone light. "Oh, fine, fine. You know. It's a bit odd, really. I keeping finding myself thinking 'I should tell Matty this' or 'I should show Matty that' -- before I realize she's all the way over at Telgar."

Kariel grins. "Now you'll just have to get used to 'I should tell Kit this' and 'I should show Kit that', she teases, and reaches for his hand. "I'm glad you're ok, though. I was worried that you wouldn't take Knetseth winning again well, since you seemed so happy about the prospect of not being Weyrleader any more." She smiles faintly. "Faranth, I just worry about you, period, Weyrleader."

"I suppose," a little doubtfully, K'dris agrees. "Oh -- that. Well, I was a little surprised, I must admit. Gave me quite a shock to wake up in Kitaeli's weyr," he grins wryly, "First thing I thought was 'Matty will kill me'." Shoulder lifts, resolute, "But it's hard to be upset, when Knetseth sees it so stoically. It's still his -- his and Chasith's, now -- Weyr. He seems to feel it's right, so it's hard not to feel much the same." Especially since the bronzerider's been relying so much on his dragon of late. "You should have seen the pair of them, perched up on the Rim!" He takes her hand, patting it comfortingly, as if she's the one that needs reassurance. "You shouldn't, Headwoman. Knetseth's looking after me -- and now Kit too, I suppose." Again, that absent slip in the Weyrwoman's nickname, familiar yet otherwise trying to keep things slightly formal.

Kariel's eyelashes sweep down, hiding whatever expression is there. "I suppose they could do it better than I could, anyway," she says, her tone light.

K'dris' brow furrows, a little confused. "I didn't mean it like that, of course -- it's more their job. Like it's mine, now, to worry about the Weyrwoman. Not that I think I need to -- she and Chasith are taking well to the job."

Kariel glances back up, but her expression is still unreadable. "I meant it like that. I know you can handle your job, Weyrleader - you've been doing it a while, right?" She shrugs. "It's other stuff I worry about."

"Other stuff?" K'dris is nothing if not baffled.

Kariel shakes her head. "I'm not expressing myself well. Let's just put it that I don't worry about K'dris, the Weyrleader; I worry about Ked, the man."

"I'm afraid," Ked grins wryly, "That we're one and the same. And we're /both/ doing well. Really. And Carialla's been just great -- it was kind of a comfort to be with her, after all this time. And you /know/ Knetseth would fuss if anything were wrong." All such assurances are smoothly put forward, even as the bronzerider proffers skin of wine. "Care for a glass, perhaps?"

Kariel glances at the 'skin, and nods slightly. "Yeah...but first, do you promise not to be offended if I try something?"

K'dris begins peering about for glasses, glancing over his shoulder at Kariel. "Depends if you think I /would/ be offended," he responds with lopsided grin. "But -- go ahead. This wine's been waiting for eleven Turns, so another few minutes can't hurt."

Kariel seems to hesitate. "Um, ok, but could you just stay still a moment?" She takes a deep breath, then gets up enough courage to kiss him - but not on the cheek this time.

"Sure," K'dris answers, a little puzzledly. Okay, so the puzzlement fades soon enough -- to be replaced by surprise. "Oh--!" Is his response, at least, his response /after/ he pulls back slightly, and only after a few moments have gone by. "Um." The normally verbose bronzerider seems to have been struck quite, quite speechless by this turn of events.

Kariel steps back, and turns away, though not before a glimpse of her blushing cheeks could be caught, if one was paying attention. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have...I just wanted to..." She trails off, shruging helplessly.

K'dris clears his throat, half croaks, and tries again. "No, no-- it's uh.. quite all right. Really. Um." Gaze flickers about, avoiding looking at Kariel -- and he's blushing almost as much as /she/ is. Ah -- there. The wine's safe to concentrate on, and the Weyrleader finds a couple of glasses, pouring. "Here," he offers the first glass to Kari, adding with a wry grin, "Well, I certainly wasn't um -- offended -- by that. Flattered, rather." He looks about to add something else, but instead reaches for his own glass.

Kariel turns back around slowly and accepts the glass, though she doesn't look up. "Still, I shouldn't have," she whispers, blinking a few times at his chest. "But shardit, how could I help it?" The question seems to be rhetorical.

K'dris takes a quick gulp of the wine, before sipping a little more slowly. It's a good Turn, after all. No need to waste it. "It's all right, Kari, really. You were just trying to comfort me. And I really do appreciate it," Ked must have missed that second comment.

Kariel shakes her head, and says something quiet into her wine, which sounds alot like "That wasn't why."

K'dris continues, as if he didn't hear Kariel's statement -- quite possible, considering she said it so softly. "I mean, it'd be unfair of me to.. you know.. do anything like that with you. I know you're only trying to be a friend."

Kariel just continues shaking her head, though whether she's rejecting his words or the whole situation is debatable. She tightens her grip on the glass in one hand, and the perfume bottle in the other, clutching them to her. Probably a good thing, too, or else she'd probably drop both.

K'dris shuffles a little closer, half extending a hand as if to steady you. "You all right, Kari? You look a little pale. Do you need to sit down? Maybe we should go somewhere warmer. It's always so chill down here."

Kariel mouth works, but no sound comes out. Finally, she just nods, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. At least the tears aren't as visible, that way.

"Maybe I should get a healer," the bronzerider adds, sounding concerned at the lack of response other than nod. "Here-- lean on me?"

Kariel shakes her head again, rejecting the offer of a healer, but does lean against him. And only then does she start sobbing in earnest.

K'dris is utterly surprised by this turn of events. I mean, sure, he's had people cry on him before, but he never seems to know what to do -- and settles for patting Kariel somewhat awkwardly with free arm encirling behind her, offering soothing "there there" type sounds, without really knowing /why/ she's crying.

Kariel sobs for several good, long minutes before she regains some semblence of control, and pulls away. "I" sniff "Messed up your shirt..." she mumbles, looking forlornly at the large wet spot on his shoulder. Anything to avoid looking him in the eye.

"It'll dry," K'dris assures her with a smile, "I'm more worried about /you/ -- I don't understand. One minute you were fine, and the next.." he trails off, a little helplessly. "Are you /sure/ you don't want to see a healer? I could ask Lisi -- she's the best."

Kariel looks around for a shelf to put her things down on. Once she has them safely on a flat surface, she sinks slowly to the floor, Shaking her head. "I'm fine. Honest. I just..." She trails off yet again, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

K'dris doesn't look too convinced, frowning worriedly at her for several moments. He retrieves her wine glass, and refills it, before crouching down beside her. "Here, have some more wine. Wouldn't want it to go to waste, would you? After all the trouble I went to to get it," tone is light, and the bronzerider grimaces down at dusty shirt. "I think it needs a good wash anyway. But it's worth it. This one's a good pressing, wouldn't you say?"

Kariel nods, sniffles, and takes a few gulps of the wine. She doesn't even give herself time to taste it. Finally, when she seems to have complete control again, she sets the glass down on the floor beside her and looks up at him. "Don't you want to know why?" she murmurs.

"I am curious," K'dris admits, with impish grin, "But -- I figure if you want to tell me, you'll tell me. Otherwise -- I'm happy to be substitute hankerchief and wine pourer until you feel better."

Kariel nods, but pretty much seems to ignore his words. "I had to find out if there was any reason for the way I've been feeling lately. If there was a spark, or if I'd just convinced myself I felt something because it's been so sharding long, and you were there, or if I actually..." she trails off and looks away again, the blush once more creeping up her cheeks.

K'dris tilts head slightly to one side, keeping gaze steady on Kariel. "You actually.. what?" He prompts, not at all getting the drift.

Kariel finishes quietly. "Felt something. For you. Other than friendship."

"For--" K'dris begins to repeat the words, before they sink in. "Oh." The word is more a chance to think, to consider this with something other than mute surprise. "And?"

Kariel looks back at you, and shrugs. "No matter what I felt, it probably wasn't worth making a fool of myself."

"Come, now," K'dris' tone is soft, "You could never be that, Kari." He continues to regard her for several moments, before leaning forward to press lips gently against hers, lingering there a moment before he quietly watches again. Waiting, thinking: who knows?

Kariel's blush probably says it all, but at least she keeps her eyes on his this time. "I, um, I mean, did you...?"

K'dris' silence continues a few moments, eyes fading briefly, that distinctive look about riders when they speak to their mates. It lasts for only a second, longer. But long enough. "This isn't fair to you, Kari. I'm sorry. It's-- too soon. I still love Mataya; I always will. It could just be that I'm feeling lonely -- it isn't fair," he repeats, lifting hand to brush gently at your cheek, apologetic, the one to avoid your gaze now.

Kariel nods, and picks up her wine. "I should go," she murmurs, rising slowly to her feet. She takes the perfume bottle from the shelf where she had put it, and turns towards the door.

"Kari--" K'dris doesn't rise from the floor to follow, perhaps hoping that she'll pause at least long enough to hear his words. "You wanted to know if I felt something -- I did. Knetseth noticed it."

Kariel falters, then turns. "Ked? Does this have to change things?" she asks, sounding very, very young all of a sudden.

"No." Then: "Yes. It probably will." Ked's indecisiveness is noticible. He remains on the floor, sliding from crouch to sit, absently toying with the wine skin. "I hope you like the perfume." It's an absent not-quite-dissmisal; certainly not intentional. He's distracted, gazing distantly.

Kariel's grip tightens on said bottle. "I...Thank you," she whispers, then turns and bolts out the door.

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