| Characters | Ky'zai, Ligeia |
| Synopsis | Ky'zai seeks Ligeia out post-hatching for a farewell (for now.) |
| Out-of-Character Date | October 1, 2022 |
Igen Weyr - Living Caverns
Second only to the Hatching Sands in size -- although its walls are not so nearly circular -- the living cavern is filled with numerous rectangular tables, almost too many to count. The Weyrleaders have the table farthest from the kitchen and hearths at one end of the cavern. The hearths are kept as low-burning as possible during the day when folk come inside to escape the heat outside. They burn brighter at night to keep away the deserts chill. No matter hte level of flame, there is always a stew pot that hangs for nibblers at a good temperature. Favored drinks, particularly iced klah and juice, are kept on ice and interspersed at various food tables scattered about, along with baskets of rolls and fruit. There are, of course, scheduled mealtimes, and at certain points of the day the available fare slides into the menu for the nearest meal, be it breakfast, lunch, dinner, or late-night snackings, but the staff has long since acknowledged that people will sit to talk and nibble here at all hours. In the cooler parts of the evening in particular, the cavern hosts games of chess, checkers, dragonpoker, and others. Several degrees are knocked off thanks to the Technician Craft's cooling system.
The Hatching feast is in full swing, and people from around Pern are helping celebrate the addition of eleven new Weyrlings to Igen's ranks - including a queen. There is, as to be expected, a Xanaduvian contingent. What might not be expected except by one person is that contingent includes one Weyrling amongst the dignitaries, his brown-threaded knot pitiful compared to those of his sister and father. Not that he's paying those two any mind - Kys is too busy searching the newly arriving Weyrlings for one familiar face.
How many of the weyrlings will make it to the feast? As many as can come, provided they're not lulled back to slumber through a combination of relief and exhaustion. For Ligeia, neither of those have had a chance to sink in; Verzhuqueth slumbers and, even now, she gets the feeling that the well-fed and well-oiled queen will not be much for sleeping come the 'morrow. She has no fancy knot of her own, though; she's still got her candidate's knot, paired well with the first clean outfit she was able to pull together. No finery here, just a serviceable blouse and trousers and boots. She's managed to tame her hair into a braid, but just barely; it pulls to a side, off-kilter courtesty of her haste. And after she's found her own family ties, she's forced to break with the motley quartet - two goldriders and a bronzerider among them - in search of someone else.
He sees her, and his face lights up for one moment before he forces himself to tone it down. Ahem. Taking a deep breath, Ky'zai adopts his healer's mask - that quiet mien that every good healer adopts that he not upset his patient unduly. Pleasant eyes, pleasant smile, utterly bland and unassuming - this is what greets Ligeia as he slips through the crowd to intercept her as she leaves the knot of her own family. "Ligeia," he calls, his voice pitched low but made to carry through the perpetual hum of the crowd. He won't assume she's looking for him - but he's going to let her know he's there.
Somehow, she has the poor fortune to look in every wrong direction - and gets a bit spun 'round in the process in the sea of well-wishers. Ligeia's jaw aches already from all the smiling, but a desperate searching sweep of eyes finally, finally snags on a brown knot. Fortunately, the knot is attached to just the person she's looking for and never mind that he's trying to tone things down; his greeting somehow makes her smiel all the wider. "Ky'zai! There you are!" Whisper-yelling at its finest. Did he ever doubt she was looking for him? Let the outflung arms in search of a hug quell those concerns for once and for all.
O no. A hug. Ky'zai would side-step, but there's no time, and his own feet betray him by propelling him into those waiting arms. Let's be perfectly fair: this is exactly where he wants to be - and exactly where he should not be. But it's too late to cry over clasped arms, and he wraps his own around her, giving her a snug, if brief, hug, before gently disengaging himself and stepping back. He can't help it; he places his hands on her shoulders, ostensibly to get a good look at her. Sure. Right. "Well, well, Impression certainly agrees with you. Weyrling Ligeia," he murmurs, and he can't quite hide the distressed affection in his voice. "Congratulations."
It's a hug that she'd happily drown herself in for a while if she were able - but Ky'zai's the more level-headed of the two in the moment and when he disengages and pulls back, it puts a mote of confusion in her eye. Too dazzled for it to translate to hurt, Ligeia's smile still falters some. Her hands flounder before lifting to rest on his hands on her shoulders. "I- yes, I guess it does," has she stopped smiling? probably not. "Verzhuqueth. That's her name. She's just- she's-" for once, she struggles with words and looks helplessly at Ky'zai. "Is this what it was like for you?" Revelation dawns in fits and spurts, happiness just starting to slide into the gravity well of realization.
"Yes." A single word of affirmation. "Ligeia, I…" Ky'zai trails off with a frown. "Nothing has changed," he finally says, his voice dropping low as his hand slides down her arm to cup her elbow, leading her off to a semi-private location. He's not stupid enough to try and get some private time with a newly Impressed Weyrling - especially not the goldrider of the lot - but he does manage to tuck them off in an abandoned corner. "Nothing has changed," he repeats, and thumps his chest with his fingertips. "But for a while, everything will change. It did for me, and it will for you. And right now, your focus has to be her. Verzhuqueth," he repeats, stumbling a bit over the name. Then again, he'd never expect her to say Chay's name out of the gate. "Do you understand?"
Confusion blossoms all the more, even as he guides her off to a side to somewhere secluded - or as secluded as one can get. The corner is sufficient, with plenty of movement past them to ensure precious few are going to get a good look at what's going on. Words stick to her tongue at first and all she can do is listen, with a faint crease forming between her eyebrows. Some words are swallowed whole. Others are chewed over. In the end, she reaches to press her palm against his chest - not to push, but for contact. Fingers splay, while her gaze locks on his and her lower lip is sucked in for her to chew on. "I know," she breathes. "I know. I know- it's- it's just a little while. Right? You'll visit still? Not- I mean. Not right now," and maybe she's done the math to figure out that maybe he didn't come on his own, "but- later."
It's slight, but it's genuine, the first smile Ky'zai has allowed to curve his lips since the moment the queen had enfolded Ligeia in her wings. "Wild whers couldn't keep me away," he assures her. "Regardless of anything else, we will always be friends. But." He lets it hang, as they have all this time, never actually putting to words any definition of their relationship. And for now, he's content to let that simmer; Weyrlings, the both of them. Now is not the time. "I will visit - though not until you and she have bonded properly," he adds, with a rueful twist of his lips. "By the time Chay can *between*, I'm sure you'll be ready. But know I'll think of you, when I've a moment to spare for thought."
That's a point of pondering that even she'll leave alone; friends is fine. Friends can be explained to a queen that already bears the hallmarks of a creature that will be jealous and fierce in equal measure. They have plenty of time later to figure out the rest, whatever it may be. Ligeia's in no rush, not now, and her hand lingers at his chest, fingers curled to scritch a little in a show of (hopefully) safe affection. "You'd better," she replies with a smile that's watery at the edges. "I'll send you letters when I can. And I'll think of you when I can't." A quick wetting of her lips follows, a cautious look darted away, then back to him. "I miss you a lot, though. Both of you." Even if she knows precious little of Chay - even if she's gotten his name down (finally.)
Eyebrows arch upwards. "I didn't think of letters," Ky'zai muses, reaching up to cup the hand on his chest and squeeze it lightly. "If you send them, I will read them and respond in kind - though I doubt they'll be as good as yours," he adds with a faint smirk. "You've entered a door to a whole new world," he murmurs, gazing down into her eyes and trying to ignore the faint tug of panic at the base of his breast. "There's no telling what is waiting for you - or what you'll be when you come through the other side. But know, I'll be waiting there for you." That's it; that's the closest he'll come. Except, "I miss you too, Ligeia," he sighs. "Something fierce. It's so damn good to see you again." He can't quite stop himself from brushing his fingers against her cheek, but in the next instant he drops his hand away - reluctantly.
"I didn't either," is a sheepish admission from someone who's usually pretty good about the whole writing thing. "But I guess- it was just because it was easy to get a ride back and forth." Only for time to pass, as it does, and procrastination allowed to take root. Now? Not so much. Ligeia looks up at him, eyes shining a little too-bright all over again. "I'm sure I'll like your letters better, because they'd be from you." And that's the important bit in her eyes. A breath cautiously taken still manages to hitch. "You just went through that door before I did, that's all. So you'd better wait," she tries to look stern and fails miserably, "or I'll chase you down." Threat? Promise? Both. And anything else on her tongue falls away at the touch, a touch that has her face tilting into the contact with a faint, faint sound. She has no such restraint - though one impulse is quickly converted into another hug, short but fierce and adamant. "I'm so glad to see you again, too."
He might say more. He might say too much. But there are eyes on him - compassionate, perhaps, though few would ever accuse many in his circle of family and friends of such a pedantic emotion. Seeing the impatient wave over her head, he sighs, wrapping his arms about her in a tight, brief hug. And maybe, just maybe, bending enough to press a light kiss to the top of her head. Maybe. It might have just been the wind. "I look forward to hearing all about your life as a Weyrling," he murmurs, stepping back and shoving his hands in the pockets of his riding jacket to prevent himself from touching her again. "And Chay hopes to hear from your lady; he says he'll keep an ear out." There's a resigned amusement at the edges of his voice; apparently his dragon has thoughts. He should go. He knows it. If he doesn't, someone will crash this little tete-a-tete. And yet, it's so hard to say goodbye - even when it's just 'see you later'. "Congratulations," he whispers again. "I'm so happy for you." And then he's off, pushing gently past her and towards the other Xanadu riders, waiting with lessening patience for him to be done.
It's just as well, in the end, for a break in the crowds reveals her familial connections on the search for her again. Ligeia will be ever grateful for the hug and the errant breeze that ghosts across her hair - and, more, for the chance to just be with Ky'zai for just a few moments before her life is truly tilted on its axis. "You'd better tell me all your stories, too," she replies, for he surely has a wealth of them stored up. He pulls back and her arms go around herself instead, as if to seal in those last vestiges of closeness. Her mouth twitches to a side. "I'm sure he will, once she figures out she can reach that far." Which- well. That remains to be seen. "Thank you. Thank you. I'm so happy for you and Chay, too." Always was. Always will be. But while she wants to grasp for that tether of familiarity one last time, she's quickly drawn up into her family cell again, a cluster that's grown incrementally. And so it will be until exhaustion or Verzhuqueth comes calling and she's forced to retreat to her new life in earnest.
