Post by Alsivor on Jul 3, 2008 23:57:42 GMT -8
(Set the night after "Father" and prior to "Departure")
Another night of music and laughter, of Caminar meeting and speaking and trading tales with each other, the lyrical rise and fall of Noestacan everywhere. And among them buying and dancing and eating, the Weyrfolk.
Tonight though, Aleda had no eyes for riders. She had put on the flame-colored gown and she strode through the aisles of wagons to find Arno and Menar, whichever one presented himself first and then the other. It didn't matter to her.
She rounded another wagon and spotted one of her quarries and sighed softly, drew back a moment to straighten her skirts, pat at her hair and paste on a smile. He was speaking quietly with his father and two other men, faces intent. Arno was a slight man, not particularly tall and very much /Caminar/ with dark hair held back in a tail at the nape of his neck, dark skin, dark eyes that flashed with contained humor when he spoke. Well. He had that going for him at least, that humor.
Aleda started moving again and glided right up to the group. "Good evening, good sirs," she said boldly, "will you indulge me by parting company with Arno here? I have promised him a drink tonight." This was news to said Arno and his brows lifted a little but the next moment, his head inclined and he spoke softly: "Aleda." And that was it. Oh he wasn't making this any easier.
She moved to take his arm, pretending to drape herself a little and now he took the hint. "Please excuse me. I will not be long."
Great. Just great. How was she supposed to impress upon her father that she was playing the marriage game if the men didn't play back?
Silence. Arno did not speak as they walked a little ways away to get a drink of wine-laced juice from a seller and drew up to the fire to sit on a felled log, to sip from their cups. Still Arno said nothing, just looked at her now and then from beneath his brows and drank.
Aleda fille the silence with idle chatter about the herbs she had collected and my wasn't it a nice night and wasn't it interesting having the Gather in the Weyr?
And Arno still said nothing until she ran out of patter and took a long drink, looking glumly across the fire.
"I'll be going back to my conversation now," Arno announced, putting his empty bark-cup down. "Thank you for sharing a cup with me, Aleda." She arched an eyebrow at him and regarded him for a long moment then waved a hand. "Oh don't mention it, it was a very -- pleasant moment."
Arno smiled then and looked at her for a long moment longer. "Perhaps someday, you will let me get a word in edgewise," he noted further, bowed and retreated and she stared after him. Well. If that didn't just cap it off. No matter. Next!
Pushing to her feet, she went of in search of the other young man from her father's list. Menar was not as easy to find and when she did, he was sitting alone on the edge of one of the fires, already drinking. She sat down with her as yet un-empty cup beside him and he looked up at her. "Oh ... Aleda ... what, what are you doing here?"
No more promising than the last one and Menar was tall, gangly and looked nowhere near his age. "My father said you wanted to share a cup with me, so here I am," she continued doggedly, flashing the charm a little. "Ah. He did? Well, yes, he is right. I believe that we would get along well, build a good strong caravan together."
And the sales pitch went on. And on. And on. And on. Aleda felt her eyes closing from extreme boredom. All he did was talk about himself and his abilities and what he brought to a wagon train. Oh the things she endured for her darling Pappa. Draining the last of her drink she turned and smiled at Menar when he took a pause for breath, leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much for that very enlightening description, Menar. I see one of my patients waving to me." And she made a point of waving out into the dark where some people lurked. "I must go check in with her. Good night!"
She left her empty cup with him and escaped into the coolness between wagons, leaned against one and tipped her head back, suddenly breathing hard, feeling the bars of an invisible wagon-shaped cage closing in around her. How could her father want this for her? To be married to a silent, teasing man or to one who would not stop talking and was so focused on himself? Neither of them even so much as sent a prickle along the back of her hand, let alone her spine.
Not like Th'ane. Or even Telgar's pretty boy Weyrleader. She wanted a little of that at least in a mate. If she was to give up her freedom, she wanted it to be for something. Worth it. Aleda pushed away from the side of the wagon and walked back to her own. She changed her clothes and collected her satchel. She slipped out into the night and drifted away from music and lights.
Out in the dark outside the Weyr she found the solace of the woods, the wind blowing through the tops of the trees and focused on finding the plants she wanted. When she had a decent quantitiy, she steered her steps to that clearing and climbed the rock, waiting for Th'ane to come.
Another night of music and laughter, of Caminar meeting and speaking and trading tales with each other, the lyrical rise and fall of Noestacan everywhere. And among them buying and dancing and eating, the Weyrfolk.
Tonight though, Aleda had no eyes for riders. She had put on the flame-colored gown and she strode through the aisles of wagons to find Arno and Menar, whichever one presented himself first and then the other. It didn't matter to her.
She rounded another wagon and spotted one of her quarries and sighed softly, drew back a moment to straighten her skirts, pat at her hair and paste on a smile. He was speaking quietly with his father and two other men, faces intent. Arno was a slight man, not particularly tall and very much /Caminar/ with dark hair held back in a tail at the nape of his neck, dark skin, dark eyes that flashed with contained humor when he spoke. Well. He had that going for him at least, that humor.
Aleda started moving again and glided right up to the group. "Good evening, good sirs," she said boldly, "will you indulge me by parting company with Arno here? I have promised him a drink tonight." This was news to said Arno and his brows lifted a little but the next moment, his head inclined and he spoke softly: "Aleda." And that was it. Oh he wasn't making this any easier.
She moved to take his arm, pretending to drape herself a little and now he took the hint. "Please excuse me. I will not be long."
Great. Just great. How was she supposed to impress upon her father that she was playing the marriage game if the men didn't play back?
Silence. Arno did not speak as they walked a little ways away to get a drink of wine-laced juice from a seller and drew up to the fire to sit on a felled log, to sip from their cups. Still Arno said nothing, just looked at her now and then from beneath his brows and drank.
Aleda fille the silence with idle chatter about the herbs she had collected and my wasn't it a nice night and wasn't it interesting having the Gather in the Weyr?
And Arno still said nothing until she ran out of patter and took a long drink, looking glumly across the fire.
"I'll be going back to my conversation now," Arno announced, putting his empty bark-cup down. "Thank you for sharing a cup with me, Aleda." She arched an eyebrow at him and regarded him for a long moment then waved a hand. "Oh don't mention it, it was a very -- pleasant moment."
Arno smiled then and looked at her for a long moment longer. "Perhaps someday, you will let me get a word in edgewise," he noted further, bowed and retreated and she stared after him. Well. If that didn't just cap it off. No matter. Next!
Pushing to her feet, she went of in search of the other young man from her father's list. Menar was not as easy to find and when she did, he was sitting alone on the edge of one of the fires, already drinking. She sat down with her as yet un-empty cup beside him and he looked up at her. "Oh ... Aleda ... what, what are you doing here?"
No more promising than the last one and Menar was tall, gangly and looked nowhere near his age. "My father said you wanted to share a cup with me, so here I am," she continued doggedly, flashing the charm a little. "Ah. He did? Well, yes, he is right. I believe that we would get along well, build a good strong caravan together."
And the sales pitch went on. And on. And on. And on. Aleda felt her eyes closing from extreme boredom. All he did was talk about himself and his abilities and what he brought to a wagon train. Oh the things she endured for her darling Pappa. Draining the last of her drink she turned and smiled at Menar when he took a pause for breath, leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much for that very enlightening description, Menar. I see one of my patients waving to me." And she made a point of waving out into the dark where some people lurked. "I must go check in with her. Good night!"
She left her empty cup with him and escaped into the coolness between wagons, leaned against one and tipped her head back, suddenly breathing hard, feeling the bars of an invisible wagon-shaped cage closing in around her. How could her father want this for her? To be married to a silent, teasing man or to one who would not stop talking and was so focused on himself? Neither of them even so much as sent a prickle along the back of her hand, let alone her spine.
Not like Th'ane. Or even Telgar's pretty boy Weyrleader. She wanted a little of that at least in a mate. If she was to give up her freedom, she wanted it to be for something. Worth it. Aleda pushed away from the side of the wagon and walked back to her own. She changed her clothes and collected her satchel. She slipped out into the night and drifted away from music and lights.
Out in the dark outside the Weyr she found the solace of the woods, the wind blowing through the tops of the trees and focused on finding the plants she wanted. When she had a decent quantitiy, she steered her steps to that clearing and climbed the rock, waiting for Th'ane to come.
