A Cure for the Wild Animal (Althesia)

[dragon]

J'rad made it back to his weyr in record time. For some reason he felt more hurried than normal. Was he so ready to meet with this harper woman again? Arcaith certainly hoped so. J'rad had taken special care to prepare his weyr. His dress was nicer than his usual wear, wearing finer trousers that he swore he'd wear for nicer occassions. The shirt itself was white, with a bit of flare at the end of each sleeve, the collar was nicely tucked the shirt was buttoned just right, all but the last. He only left it unbuttoned because it felt as though it were choking him, he wasn't going to for go comfort for vanity. The belt of his trouser was made of newer hide, a recent buy and unlike all his worn, older ones. Even his short, unmanagable black hair seemed to keep in line for him, giving him a nice trim. And with his recent bath, he was as clean as ever.

The place itself was thoroughly cleaned and looked in prime condition, unlike how it normally did with clothes and things scattered about here and there. He had help in setting up a table for a meal, for dinner. Candles were lit, and the dining ware was just right. He was promised that the food would be on its way shortly, which satisfied the hardened man. He liked promptness and speed. Hopefully, it didn't lose it's quality though. The drinks were something he had himself, saving it for a special occassion. Though J'rad assured himself over and over that this wasn't one and the preparations were simply a formality and that he'd hate to look poorly.

As the food made it's way in, J'rad stopped one of the workers. She was a younger female, younger than Althesia anyway. He tasked her with finding the young harper artist and gave a thorough description as well as the woman's name. The girl simply giggled and went about her way to find the woman. J'rad simply rolled his eyes at such a reaction and sat in his chair, placing the bottle infront of him, waiting for his guest.

The man sat elegantly as such a bold beast could in the chair and pondered on just how this would turn out. He certainly didn't have any attraction for this woman, or so he was convinced. So he was confident the actual intent behind this all wouldn't turn to something else. But J'rad did know one thing. By doing this, he agreed to talk to this woman on a personal level that he had done with no other, save Arcaith perhaps. He also knew that in such a circumstance, his attitude would need atleast a slight change if he wanted to hold some amount of conversation with her and keep her around. The might bronzerider stroked his chin as he leaned back in the chair as it creeked ever so slightly.

Speaking of the man's mount, Arcaith was doing just as J'rad had predicted. The beast was lazily curled up on it's ledge, lathargic and unwilling to open himself to the world around him. Not even this would be enough for Arcaith to stay awake and intrigued. As far as the dragon was concerned, he'd done his part and now it was J'rad's turn. His rider seemed to be on the right track, so why disturb him? He needed to learn on his own anyway. The bronze wouldn't be disturbed, leaving J'rad on his own.

[anhydrous]

While following a giggling kitchen aid was not really the best time to think, Althesia had managed to force her emotions into some semblance of order on her walk from the lower caverns up to J’rad’s weyr . She would make this bronzerider her friend, and nothing more. Faranth only knew how badly she needed someone to speak honestly with, and he seemed to crave such talk. Why else would he have so readily invited her into his own, very private, quarters?

That decision had been so much easier to be confident in when J’rad wasn’t in the general vicinity. Now that she stood in his threshold, the permanent little wrinkle between his eyebrows was so strangely endearing. The careful way his weyr had been prepared was also quite endearing, even though she kept such thoughts from being apparent in her expression. She almost felt guilty that she hadn’t spent more time on her own appearance, but only slightly.

If J’rad expected Althesia to enter his weyr dressed appropriately, then he had another thing coming entirely. The harper wore what she always wore, a full skirt and a blouse that was designed to showcase her none-too-subtle chest. The difference lay in the tentative way she caught his eye, each step forward nervous and unsure. Her natural indifference had been compromised by this difficult-to-place bronzerider.

Wardrobe aside, she had done the tiniest bit to clean herself up. Her wild hair was twisted back into an elegant nautilus bun and held in place with a well-worn paintbrush. The only other hint of elegance was a simple silver pendant around her neck, the teardrop shape gleaming subtly in the candlelight. “What are we eating?” She asked by way of greeting, her terse words still lingering uncertainly by the door.

[dragon]

The man, lost in his own thoughts, didn't notice when the woman entered. He looked something like a stone sculpture, his posture and expression giving away that he was too lost in thought, of course it also didn't hurt that his features were so rough and hard to begin with. When she spoke up, it was made very clear he hadn't noticed her entrance. He removed the hand that his chin rested on to look up at her. He almost wanted to grimace and recoil back to somewhere else. The woman was certainly confident in her appearance, allowing her chest to hang out in such a way. He, of course, didn't care to stare. A simple glance over her could give away her dress and the amount of skin showing. He decided to wave off any complaint he had and instead spread out one arm to point to a chair before him.

"It is meat, roasted and finely seasoned and cut. There are sweet rolls and fruit to compliment", with the short, but precise answer spoken, J'rad poured the cool liquid from the bottle he kept on the table into the glass before him. He set the bottle down, not thinking to ask to pour hers. If he changed, it wasn't a complete turn around. But the bronzerider was trying, more so than he ever did. Not yet ready to prepare his own plate, he waited for Althesia to sit so the meal could begin.

[anhydrous]

His distaste at her wardrobe choice was dismissed, or more probably, missed entirely, as Althesia left her post by the door to approach the table. She settled into the offered chair, mindful enough to tuck her leg up under her in a way that wouldn’t hike up her skirts and reveal anything to the uninterested bronzerider. Eyes wandering over the meal, “Lovely,” was her curt reply. It failed to be seen if she were trying to mock or impress her bronzer with her new shortened vocabulary, although tone wouldn’t readily suggest either.

Noticing that J’rad had failed to do so, Althesia poured herself a glass and took about dishing herself a plate of fruit. The meat was passed by for now, a few wayward berries that had strayed too far from their companions finding their way quite suddenly into her mouth. She didn’t dare look too intently at her own dinner companion, but regarded him carefully in order to not bring forth his seemingly endless supply of reprimands.

“What personal things are we going to talk about?” She questioned innocently, truly innocently, no hidden meaning wound around the simple query. “I wouldn't mind sharing things about myself if you cared to hear them," and this she doubted, "But you already know more about me than I know about you.” While ranks and titles could easily be gleaned from shoulder knots, she was of course referencing the fact that he had denied her the knowledge of his name.

[dragon]

J'rad looked up to meet her square in the eyes. "My name is J'rad", he spoke, words holding the sharp tone the rider rarely with held. "Is that enough fact? Or should I throw in my rank and wing?", these questions were surprisingly less intense, less sharp. Perhaps he was struggling to show some kindness to her. It would certainly be unexplored territory for the bronzerider.

Since she was seated, he went about placing the roasted meat on his plate and added a sweet roll. He first took a bite of the meat, making sure it was just right. It was enough for J'rad to not mutter any complaints. "You may talk of yourself if you want. But you're free to ask about me", the tone certainly betrayed his words, as if he didn't want to say such a thing. But J'rad was no such man. If he didn't want to say it, he wouldn't. "But do, eventually, get to the point of the conversation where I need this "cure" of yours", this irritable sounding request was made the obvious highlight of their evening together, as if his sole purpose for having her here was to find out just what she meant behind those words and just what she meant to do. She seemed surprisingly honest when she said such a thing and it's what managed to catch the bronzerider's eye, surely she'd be satisfied now to have his attention. He took the glass in hand to take a sip of the cool wine he had poured himself. An odd characteristic, perhaps, was that J'rad took the sip slowly to enjoy the flavor. It was an astonishing act of elegance that would surprise anyone who found themselves able to watch such an event.

[anhydrous]

Around a mouthful of fruit, the harper managed to utter, “Oh hush,” in response to her bronzer’s attempt to soften his words. It was almost like he had tried to make a joke… cute, but not very effective. At least he seemed to be trying.

Between berries and other tastefully ripe delicacies, it became clear that J’rad had only one thought on his mind. Her mention of a cure had perplexed him, and he cared little of what she had to say unless he could discover what exactly she had meant. For a moment she considered leading him on all night but then never actually telling him, but it eventually occurred to her that wasn’t exactly the best way to make friends.

“Assuming you remain as amiable as you have been,” which was a joke, and was signaled by the soft curling of her lips, “I could easily reveal such a cure and just why exactly you need it by the end of the night.” It wasn’t a dare or a suggestion, just a simple state of fact. Before she could discern such thing, first she would need some answers. And some wine. The more, the better.

Taking a long sip of the aforementioned drink, Althesia let the alcohol warm her stomach. The harper hadn’t truly appreciated the drink as J’rad had so clearly done, but hers matched the satisfied expression on his face. Some derived the pleasure from the intricacies, while others relished in the simplicity.

“My only real requirement is that you answer my questions honestly,” she said from behind the glass, setting it on the tabletop with the slightest of uncertain glances. “Which I trust you will do?”

[dragon]

J'rad simply raised an eyebrow at just how she drank the wine. By comparison, J'rad would seem the more sophisticated one. To her question, he gave her a glare that spoke volumes. It practically screamed at her that honesty was the only way he ever intended to answer a question. But he did back such a glare with words just as blunt as the rider's personality, "I do not hide behind words or imply any hidden meanings when I speak. You should be sure enough to know that if I answer, it is in straightforward honesty". Though the words did seem to imply the not so hidden meaning that she should have known he would answer honestly but it was her that he was not so sure about.

Taking a bite of the sweetroll on his plate, J'rad decided that it was satisfactory as well and placed it back on his plate as he swallowed. He then cast her a look that seemed to examine her. Not outwardly, as her chest may have warrented, but to her being. But perhaps a glimmer in his expression that not even J'rad expected to reveal would catch the harper's eye. It certainly wasn't lust, J'rad didn't seem to fall to such a thing or not easily anyway. Was it some greater feeling that he had yet to understand himself? Or was it simply the curiousity he knew he held for this woman. Whatever it was, it flickered only for a moment.

Not willing to prolong any silence or be patient about the particular conversation they would hold, J'rad spoke up. "Now what is it that you would ask me to answer so honestly to?", he questioned her as he leaned forward with some sort of mock interest that perhaps wasn't so mock as it was J'rad wanting it to show as mock. "Would you have me relate my whole history? Speak emotion to you?", J'rad couldn't help but question further in a tone that was both sarcastic and annoyed, as much as J'rad tried to hold back the latter. Boy do old habits die hard.

[anhydrous]

Althesia ignored the tone in which she had been answered, as well as most of J’rad’s sarcastic questions. Curtly she placed a sweetroll on her plate and tore off a manageable bite. “The answering part was what I was hoping to stress, J’rad,” she reprimanded placidly, “not the honesty.” With that the bread disappeared into her mouth, causing an awkward break in the conversation as she chewed.

She was glad to hear that he was determined to answer honestly, but doubted if his vengeful pride would let him actually consider something other than what he thought to be true before spitting an answer that hid his deepest thoughts. More often than not, people had the uncanny ability to bury themselves so deeply in denial that they choked on it and died.

The harper cleared her throat with a sip of wine, not exactly sure that she wasn’t hefting her own spade loaded with defiance at that very moment.

“While they might sound it,” she warned, already pulling loose another bite of sweetroll, “These are not easy questions. They require depth of thought to answer completely. True, those replies might be phrased in the simple terms of yes and no, but each of those words speaks volumes of your answer. Do not think in black and white, and only explain yourself as thoroughly as you deem it necessary.” The second bite was lost to the world as it disappeared past Althesia’s lush lips, another swirl of wine chasing the bit of pastry.

After a moment of considerate silence, the harper began her round of questions. “Do you love Arcaith?” She queried tenderly, hoping that the dragonrider would not think her rude for asking such a thing. It was not meant to offend, nor was she trying to push the boundaries of what was acceptable by asking of his mount. It was a valid question with an answer that held a valid point, but the slightest hint of womanly softness accompanied it none-the-less.

Perhaps it was Althesia’s mothering instinct to use such a tone when inquiring about something that might strike a nerve, although the thought of the girl with a mothering instinct would bring a scoff to anyone’s lips.

[dragon]

J'rad was silent throughout most of her words, deciding to listen and eat. He first decided to get the sweetroll out of the way, focusing on one thing at a time which attributed to his way of thinking. J'rad was smart, but he could be narrow minded or not realizing to think outside the box. The sweetroll was gone by the time she asked her first question, the haste being that he wished to get to the meat before it cooled. He took a sip of wine as the question hit him, as though someone punched him in the gut. Love. What a sickening thing to think of and talk about with a woman, despite the focus being on Arcaith.

However, he quickly composed himself and placed the glass back in the exact same spot when he was done with his sip. "Of course I do. There is no deeper love than that between dragonrider and dragon. It's called a bond for a reason. The love, the connection, is so great that one cannot survive without the other", J'rad explained to her, his gruff tone remaining, as well as the honesty, but the irritation and sharpness lacking.

Arcaith stirred only momentarily and in ample time to hear his bonded's words. He was so pleased to hear this. J'rad didn't say such things, though the beast knew that he was J'rad's only love. Satisfied, Arcaith was back to napping again.

[anhydrous]

The harper offered no expression that would betray the way she felt about J’rad’s answer, she simply nodded and took another sip of her wine. It mattered little what she thought of his replies, only what she could glean from them. She appreciated that the sharpness had faded from his voice, and offered a pleasant smile to reward him.

His first answer had come quickly, but she had expected that. Althesia had begun with a query that wouldn’t take much true thought, and certainly no soul searching. Dragonriders wore their love for their mounts right out on their sleeves in the knots that they so proudly displayed, each doting on their winged beasts in their own particular way.

It was from J’rad’s knots that Althesia gleaned her second question, eyes darting to his shoulder ever so briefly before she tipped back and emptied her wine glass. “Are you proud of your rank?” She led, this time leaving the soft tone where it belonged, unuttered.

Placing the emptied glass on the table, Althesia momentarily considered pouring herself more wine. After a bit of thought she decided that wouldn't be polite, especially considering the fondness with which her host had savored his first drink. With a furrowed brow she took a small portion of meat instead, delicately transferring the spiced roast to her mouth on the point of her fork while she awaited J’rad’s next answer.

[dragon]

J'rad was mid-chew of yet another piece of roast when the next question came. It was of his rank. He swallowed the meat after chewing thoroughly and looked over to the knots he wore, some a more recent addition than others. "I suppose. It satisfies me. I'm in a position to give order and fit restraint where necessary. It's more that I have a duty to fill than I am proud of it", the man replied, dutiful sounding as ever. J'rad wasn't so much proud as he was willing to fulfill any position that was given to him in his own way. He certainly didn't complain of his position and he readily accepted it, but he didn't place any arrogance in the title as others would. Throwing one's rank around in such a way was distasteful to him and didn't serve a respectable purpose.

Another piece of the roast was cut and placed in his mouth, chewing just as deligently as the last time. Swallowing, he picked up his glass and took another sip, noticing how empty it was becoming. He leaned back in his chair and swished the remaining liquid around idley in the glass but ever so careful as not to spill it and the position of the glass remaining carefully tucked between his fingers.

[anhydrous]

Again Althesia seemed to make little of what her companion had said, voice growing ever-so-slightly heated as she immediately spoke her next question. “And what of Telgar? Your Weyr? Does it satisfy you?”

It failed to be seen if she meant the new leadership or something else entirely, leaving the question quite open for interpretation. She was trying to stretch J’rad’s boundaries, each question building to encompass more of his life than the one previous to it.

If this harper’s mind was wound in a strange way, nothing could demonstrate that fact more readily than the way she played such games with her fellow humans. What these questions really had to do with her cure was nothing. There was only one question that mattered, but she would save that one for last. It was the kind of query that required some foreplay, not simply one that you could blurt and expect an honest, thought-felt answer from.

Noticing that J’rad’s glass had now been emptied as well, Althesia took it upon herself to refill her own and then motion for her bronzer to put his own so she could fill his. A bit assuming, perhaps, but she poured perfectly. Not a drop was spilled to be wasted by soaking into the tablecloth, and not even one infinitesimal trace ran slyly down the neck of the bottle. She knew how to handle her alcohol.

[dragon]

"They weyr is satisfactory enough in that I'm not bothered to transfer or leave", said J'rad pointedly but honest, meaning the structure itself and the home he grew accustom to wasn't yet compromised enough so that he would consider leaving it, he had spent too much time here to leave so readily and be forced to adapt. The young man took the last sip of his wine, taking care to savor the very last drop before allowing the glass to part his lips. However, once he noticed Althesia motion to him so that she could fill the glass again, J'rad didn't hesitate to oblige her. It would take more than a couple glasses of wine to get J'rad to feel the affects that alcohol often brought, so he was bold and unflinching, ready to taste the wine yet again. Satisfied with the amount she poured, he withdrew and pressed it back to his lips, as if to reassure himself he had a glass of wine. Placing the glass down yet again, J'rad cut the last few bits of his roast into pieces and took one such piece of the last handful left into his mouth to chew and swallow. Perhaps he would have some fruit or another sweetroll to eat after he was done with what was left of the roast.

He couldn't help but wonder, however, how many more questions this woman had up her sleeve. For some reason he wanted her to stay and wanted there to be conversation, but he couldn't place his finger on the exact reason. So right now, he was not complaining about the amount of questions she shot him with, whether it was some game to her or not.

[anhydrous]

Pleased that J’rad had let her pour for him, Althesia made very sure not to spill any of his precious drink while she obligingly filled his glass. “Mmm,” she replied through a long drink of wine, not really in agreement or satisfaction, but some odd mix of interest and indifference. “So you sound pleased with your life,” she assumed drolly, none of the answers marking him as a man with a reason to be unhappy.

Cupping one hand up around the bowl of her glass, the stem protruding uselessly from her grip, she shifted to allow her other leg to join its brother up in the seat of the chair. “Therein lays the problem,” Althesia alluded vaguely. Raising the glass to her mouth, she let her eyes wander over the rim to catch at her bronzer’s stern features. She had only one question left, which meant that her stay would probably soon be through. There was regret in her careful stare, as if she were loathe to continue on to the point that might end their conversation. It couldn’t be helped.

Taking one last steadying drink of wine, the harper let loose her final question. “So, J’rad,” she said fondly, as if using his name could put an emphasis on her words, “Are you happy?” That was it. That was her ultimate question, one that she expected to be carefully considered. One answer would lend the bronzerider a cure, the other, a pointed laugh and all-too-polite departure by the intriguing young artist.

[dragon]

J'rad raised an eyebrow at her suggestion. Pleased with his life? J'rad didn't even know if he could make that assumption about himself. But she seemed to think this a problem, perhaps because it contradicted the bronzerider's mood and reactions. He chewed the last remnants of the roast, the last piece placed carefully in his mouth and chewed long enough to enjoy. After swallowing, he took a sip of his wine and then slowly removed the glass from his lips, placing the glass in his line of view of her as he held it ever so idley and elagantly.

But her question came as a shock to him. It was so to the point, so simple, yet so hard to answer. But he promised her honesty and she asked for detail. He paused, pondering deeply on the question. It wasn't something really asked to him, so it was not a response easily made, especially to give such an intimate answer. "No", he said finally. "I'm not. And there are many different reasons that give to this answer, past and present", he stated. She asked for a detailed, honest answer but not his background. She'd have to dig deeper than that one question because it wasn't necessary to go any farther to answer her.