Supplies (esp. for Th'ane)

[Alsivor]

(Set before the Hatching)

Aleda moved through the unfamiliar warren of caverns a little hesitantly. She stopped at each intersection first to check where she was. They'd been here long enough that it wasn't completely a mystery anymore, but it was easy to get turned around without external landmarks if you didn't know the shapes of the tunnels well.

She was out of small bandage cloth, irritatingly enough, because a lot of the Caminar children seemed to be bumping their elbows and knees a lot more than usual during this Gather and many of them turned up every day to get their bumps, bruises and scrapes cleaned up and bandaged. She'd asked around of the other sabedoria and they too were starting to run low and it woudl be a little while before they were out on the road to actually trade for anything new. So here she was trying to figure out where the Storage rooms in the Weyr were and whether or not she'd be able to trade something for a few spools of gauze.

Aha! This was the right turning. Aleda put on one of her nicest smiles and swung on around the doorway into the Stores. There was a person on duty at a desk area in the front and the woman fixed her with a tight, suspicious look. Aleda greeted her politely: "Good day, I am a healer and looking for some small supplies, nothing big of course, just a little bandaging." The worker pursed her lips and scanned Aleda from head to toe again, tapped her writing implement against her clipboard. Finally she cleared her throat and pointed a little sharply towards a particular set of shelves. "You might look there, but you will need to check with me first before taking anything out of here. The Weyr needs its supplies." There was a coolness in the woman's voice that Aleda only answered with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, very generous of you."

She turned to walk down that row of shelves, rolling her eyes. Generous. Not really. But it helped to smooth the way a little to pretend so. The shelves caught her attention next and she couldn't help but whistle lowly at how well-supplied the Weyr was, how neat and tidy most of the shelves were. One finger trailed along the edge of one holding vials and jars of oitments and creams. She made most of her own concotions, trading for others along the way on the road, but she had to rely mostly on her own ability to make things. It was never certain what they'd be able to trade for in what quantities here and there around the route her father's caravan followed. Thankfully because he was a clothier, textiles weren't usually difficult to come by, but she didn't really see herself binding up wounds with his fine sisals and heavy velvets.

Salves, salves and more salves down this aisle. Maybe the worker in the front was off by one. Of course most of these /did/ seem to be healing supplies as well. Calmly Aleda continued on, gawking like a country bumpkin at all of the items the storage room contained.

[Tabula Rasa]

They ache, Th'ane.

The bicolored bronze stretched his wings and then pressed them against his sides, ducking his head down so that his fine new straps might be removed. "What do you mean they ache?" he rider grumbled, even as his hands reached to oblige. "You just need to break them in a little. Anyways, how is it that a hide that can withstand between can't tolerate a set of fresh straps?"

Sideraveth snorted and gave his long body a great shake, as if to rid the feel of the straps from his skin. Do you wish me to be uncomfortable?

Pale eyes leveled on the dragon and gave him a long and measured look. "Don't start."

I'll fly poorly, if I'm not comfortable. I could become distracted during training.

"Oh, don't you threaten me, you great lizard," Th'ane muttered, arms crossing over his chest. "What's gotten into you, you've never fussed about straps before."

Please fix it for me, was Sideraveth's demure reply as he settled on his ledge and rested his head on his paws. Muttering still, Th'ane turned away from his plaintive beast and made for his weyr's exit. One of the advantages of being a wingleader: his pick of a ground-level room.

He'd try the stores. They had rows and rows of creams; surely one of them would be good for working into leather and softening it. And if not, they'd stick to the old straps for a few days more and try them on again once the bronze had forgotten about his current complaint.

The woman that guarded the storage caverns was all warm smiles as the rider approached. Th'ane's returning grin was soft and sheepish. After five turns, it still took him by surprise, sometimes. That a person he hardly knew might look at him and be pleased that he was there. His irritation with Sideraveth lightened considerably. Maybe, if there wasn't a cream, he could line the straps with fleece of kidskin.

"Hello, wingleader," the woman chirped, "what can I do for you today?"

"I just wanted to look through the salves, if that's all right."

"Of course, sir. They're located just down there." She set her clipboard down to gesture to a particular row of shelves. "Take whatever you need."

"My thanks." Th'ane offered another small smile before ducking down the gestured row and halting. It wasn't the sheer number of jars though, certainly, trying to poke through all of them and figure out what each one was would be a considerable undertaking. It was, instead, the Caminar woman that stood in the middle of the aisle, staring up at the bounty of supplies with a sort of startled awe. He knew her. Five turns since he'd seen her last, and she had grown and changed, but still. He knew her.

He stepped closer, footfalls nearly silent until he stood by Aleda's side and turned to stare up at the shelves with her. "I felt the same way," he noted quietly, "the first time I came down here."

[Alsivor]

Aleda stood on tiptoe to look up at on of the higher shelves, hand resting gently on its edge. Glass gleamed prettily blue there, the bottles all with matching stoppers. So much glass. Such /wealth/ all in one room.

She didn't hear the footsteps until the man was right next to her and she snatched her hand back instinctively, though her shoulders drew back and her chin tilted up a little as if to clearly state that somehow she belonged there. "Did you really? It's very impressive ..."

Though she didn't recognize him by voice alone, something about the timbre brought her gaze up sharply to his face. Since she'd last seen him, he'd learned to speak differently, to mask his Caminar accent and his voice was deeper, richer than she remembered. Older though he was and bearded, she knew his face and her eyes widened, sparked with sudden delight as she took him in.

"Teimo!" she exclaimed softly, that same delight ringing in her voice and she reached for him instinctively, hand to shoulder first, then towards his face though he was so very, very tall and it was not as easy as it had once been. "So this is where you've been," she murmured next, eyes warm on his. "I've wondered, all this time."

[Tabula Rasa]

He smiled softly and far more easily than he used to, and even obliged by ducking down a little so the sabedoria might better be able to inspect him. It allowed him to study her right back. "Th'ane," he corrected her gently. The nickname that was a boon once was a liability, in this place. To be called something in Noestacan was to be marked as outside the realm of normal. "It's Th'ane, now. You look well. How is your family?"

[Alsivor]

Laughing a little, Aleda dared to rest gentle fingers on the rider's face. "Thane." She repeated, missing the contraction, not knowing it was there in the first place. Then her eyes drifted out to his knot and back. "Oh ... I see!" Her hand shifted to trace looped cords, the thread of bronze in between them, the extra flourish the indicated his rank. "Fancy," she teased him gently and then leaned toward him slightly. "Does this mean that I can't hug you, bronzerider?"

Her eyes sought his out again and her smile flashed once more. "I'm glad you think so." A hint of the old, teasing girl turning up in the cant of her head and the slight sway that made her skirts swish. "My family is very well, prospering even. We might have to split the caravan soon enough, with my brother's family growing so." She paused for a moment, looking him over again. "I'm glad to find you here, Tei-- Th'ane. I thought the worst after a little while. It's good to know you're not only alive, but that you've done so well." Another brief touch of her fingers to his knot followed, then they returned to his face, tracing matured lines that were once so boyish.

"I finished my training two turns ago. I travel with my family again as their sabedoria. I argue with my father weekly about husbands." A rich ripple of laughter followed and her mouth quirked to the side. "I'm still resisting with everything that I am."

[Tabula Rasa]

"Not as fancy as some," Th'ane mused, glancing down at his own knot, though his smile was soft and pleased for the praise. "I don't think I read anything saying bronzeriders can't be hugged." At least, not in storage caverns where no one's likely to see. The rider's arms opened, offering to enfold the smaller woman in them. He smelled of leather and oil and the faint spice of dragonhide.

"I'm sorry I didn't send word," he murmured, "but I just... anyhow, here we both are. It's good to see you, Aleda." Her name came out strangely on his tongue as he kept his old accent away from even that word. "And good to hear," his tone twisted and became bemused and wry, "you're still you. In all of your travels, you've come across nobody worthy of your hand. I'm not surprised."

[Alsivor]

Of course, she couldn't just settle for a simple hug either. Aleda stepped into welcoming arms and slipped her own up around his neck. Even with the unfamiliar disparity in height, her hands still found the familiar path up into his hair and she tipped her head into his shoulder where it used to fit so well.

"I know. How could you anyway? People would talk. Make waves." Her voice was kept low now as she leaned against him just a fraction more than she ought to. "I know, Tei-- Th'ane. I know." Her chin lifted a little, bringing her eyes up into view. "Yes. Here we are and it is very good to see you too, because I missed you. And I did worry and I'm happy I don't have to worry anymore."

She considered his last for a moment, flashing back to that last knock down drag out fight, her father insisting that he was starting to broker an arrangement with a young man only a few turns older than herself from a family that usually traveled the eastern part of the Caminar routes. Not worthy was what she'd told him. Not ready, maybe never was what she knew deep down inside. "No one who can keep up with me," she finally spoke aloud with a quiet chuckle. "If I'm to marry at all, I want someone who won't try to put me into the usual box. Someone I can talk to about -- well about everything. A partner. Not a master. Too many men are all about being the master."

[Tabula Rasa]

He was quiet as he held her, listening to her soft words and reaching a hand up to lightly touch her hair. Slowly he straightened and looked down at her again, still smiling as if faintly bemused. "You sound like the Weyr girls," he mused. "You might like it here." Curiosity illuminated his light eyes as he considered. "What do you think of Telgar so far?"

[Alsivor]

Aleda's smile widened as his hand lifted, but she stepped back a little, setting some proper distance between them again, though not much, arms falling loosely into a fold across her mid-section. The bemusement and his words, hiked her brows upward and she couldn't help but laugh. "Plantado? Me? No. How could I live without the wind in my face and the road under my feet?" she said as if this were simply obvious and her head tilted slightly to the side. "And what would a Weyr do with a sabedoria? My work is with our people, Tei-- Th'ane."

She considered him in turn and tipped a look over her shoulder towards where the caverns-worker sat, busily tallying up columns on some sheet.

"The same suspicions as any other plantado place. The same looks. But at least a little more willingness to listen and so far no one has been hurt." She paused, dark eyes roaming his face. "Which is more than I can say for the road these days." And her throat tightened a little. "I treated a boy from my father's caravan ... who was caught and beaten. I don't know if his hands will ever work again." Her eyes closed briefly, squeezed tight then re-opened. "It is not a bad place and the dragons are interesting. Tell me ... what is it like, being one with a dragon?"

[Tabula Rasa]

"I'll take you flying," Th'ane promised softly, "and you'll feel the wind in your face, then. You can go to any road you like on a dragon's back. Imagine the number of caravans you could reach, then. The miles you could cover. What you could do here is what you've always done. Teach. Learn. And no father to try and marry you off." He paused to smile just faintly. "There's a clutch on the sands, you know. There's a gold egg." He didn't ask any further, brows lifted only a little in silent offering.

But, they drew down sharply enough at the rest of her words and he remembered, suddenly, what he had come for. The bronzer's gaze returned to the shelves of salves, and he plucked down a jar and opened it, sniffing at the contents within before setting it back. "It must be hard for them," he said, drawing down another jar, "to be so maligned based purely on rumor and appearance." The second cream was sniffed and set back.

"It's wonderful, being a rider. It's a constant ally. A means to go anywhere. It's freedom."

[Alsivor]

"Flying ..." Aleda echoed slowly voice infused with a sense of wonder and sudden exictement. "Now that, would be well worth trying." Her eyes lit up, smile returning, deepening to underscore he delight at the idea. She listened to the more serious part of what he was saying and inclined her head slightly. "Though one would miss out on the little things, no?" she inquired, eyes right on his. "Would I really be able to do those things here, Teimo?" She slipped up on his name this time as deep affection tinged her words and her hand moved to rest lightly on his forearm. The silent offer brought her brows up in turn. "Yes. I had heard. That's very good for the Weyr, isn't it?" But her head shakes back and forth denying the offer. "Every sabedoria is precious. I cannot take this away from my family." She paused, looking down at her dark hand on his sleeve then peeked up at him again. "Even if the idea of escaping marriage is ... tempting."

The sharp downward draw of his brows pulled her hand back a little, though not full off of his arm until he stepped away. Her arms folded across her chest and shoulders tipped upward again. "It is no different from any other time. Just worse. And ... well, the idea of /Caminar/ taking plantado is just ... ridiculous. Even if my own wish would be for both not to hate each other so much."

She watched him silently as he continued to check the creams. "Is it? You're truly, free?" Aleda's voice was low, regret and a hint of longing winding around each other in her tone.

[Tabula Rasa]

"They'd send you away themselves, trying to get you matched and married. Or are they only looking for men whose spines are so like limp noodles that they'd never consider starting a caravan of their own with their new bride?" Th'ane shrugged peering among the jars before giving up with a shake of his head and crossing his arms. "You could still reach them. You know their route. You just wouldn't be under their thumb any longer."

"The Caminar made their own bed," he adds with a small snort. "They've been making it for centuries. Now let them lie in it for a time. They're safe enough here." His voice went carefully bland so that his own opinion about having them at the Weyr was, save for the giveaway that sudden absence of emotion, kept to himself.

"Freedom," he says, smiling slightly, "is relative. I'm more free surrounded by stone at night than I ever was on the open road. The caravans build their walls out of rules and traditions, and those are all the more stifling."

[Alsivor]

"My father, much as I love him, thinks only of bloodlines when looking at matches for me, not the personality of the man with the blood in his veins. In that, he is a fool, because I will fight him on every choice unless /I/ feel it is a good match." A pause followed and warm, humor-filled smile crossed her face. "For me." She sighed softly and paced away a few steps, came back. "My family is large and the caravan grows. They need a sabedoria far more than a start up train of a wagon or two. But ... yes, you're right, most of the boys and men my father has looked at for me would not sit still for long under his thumb." She paused again and looked down towards the lower shelves, hunkered down so her skirts pooled around her on the floor, scarlet and amber layered over rich green. "Aha. Bandaging," she murmured almost to herself and reached into the box for two small spools of gauze.

Straightening, Aleda looked up at Th'ane again and held up the gauze. "I have been running out of it because we have not been safe." Her eyes took in his face, a flash of something almost but not quite angry in them. "Have I made my bed that way then too? Would you have me lying in it? I am /Caminar/ and so are you, even if your blood crosses two different worlds. Is it a perfect life? No. I see the flaws too, you know I do. But how could I take away six turns of the best training from one of the wisest sabedoria in the caravans? Yes. I know the routes. But could I really serve the famillies as you say? Could I?" Her head bowed after a moment and she swallowed hard. "You know how it is."

Aleda's gaze lifted back up to Th'ane's face slowly, dark eyes seeking pale and her fingers drifted towards his hair. "You never came back, though you know the routes as well as I."

[Tabula Rasa]

"No, I wouldn't," Th'ane replied tightly. "I think you know exactly whose bed I'd have you in." One hand moved, as if it would curl around her arm or touch her hair again, but the bronzerider remembered himself and carefully lowered it again.

"I am not Caminar," and Th'ane's tone dropped even softer for concern that he would be somehow overheard even uttering the words, "I've never been Caminar. I was a dog to be kicked or chased off, and you had a weakness for wounded things."

He drew in a slow breath and let it out again. "I know exactly how it is," the man agreed softly, "and that's why I never looked back."

[Alsivor]

Something complex moved behind Aleda's eyes and where he remembered himself, she did not. Her hand found his hair, brushed through it. "I'd like that," she murmured softly for that first statement, regardless of the tightness in his voice. Her hand stilled though as he went on.

"You would deny this part of yourself? Even the good parts?" And briefly anger flashed across her face and her chin lifted at that quiet statement. "I had a weakness for /you/." Aleda's hand pulled away and she stood there looking up at him, sparks and softness trading places on her face. Ultimately, the softness won and her chin dropped, knowing what he said was true and her hand snuck towards him again, seeking his fingers.