Welcome Home! (Sleet riders, Adventurers, All!)

[anhydrous]

Althesia’s eyes wandered as she nursed her water, occasionally shooting a futile glance in the direction in which J’rad had disappeared. So far he was still gone, presumably talking with his wingleader. She sighed, meandering towards a familiar face. Wasn’t that the Healer they had spoken to?

She was edging past a group of riders who were roaring with laughter when the woman, Rivaly, if her memory served her, promptly vanished. She had only glanced away for a minuet as one of the men stepped into her path accidentally, offering a smile and an apology that were hardly memorable. Althesia returned the smile with a wave of her hand, inwardly seething. She had an objective and now it was gone. Urgh. Just when it seemed that she might find a remedy for looking out of place.

Instead she found a bare patch of floor, an out-of-the way place to observe and wait. Surely her bronzer would return soon, right? But of course, not before Althesia saw what might have been the most pregnant woman she had ever laid eyes on. Just the sight made Althesia cringe, the remembrance of her own condition still too transient to become a permanent curse. The woman could hardly walk, each step registering quite plainly on her face.

The Harper followed her path into the weyr with unshielded morbid curiosity, watching in horror as other women were instinctively called to flutter around her tremendously convex form. Fresh dismay was born from these observations, her rest of her water thrown down her throat as if it could purge the images from her brain. She had so much to look forward to.

[Omnia Munda]

Surely Althesia's bronzer would return to her in time - but in the time it was taking, she was found instead by a different bronzer entirely. J'fel's gaze caught upon her, then slid away, but his mouth curved a wicked and daring smirk: that the harper was without escort had not been lost on the young man.

The pregnant woman was between him and Althesia, and he permitted the gaggle of girls around her to act as his excuse for approaching the harper. He insinuated himself and the drink he was by now holding between the women, murmuring greetings and flattery, but for all of his charm J'fel's presence thinned the number by half. Some ladies knew better. Pretending charmed offense, the weyrleader excused himself from the impromptu baby-chatter he'd disrupted, and moved on, directly to Althesia.

"It's a pleasure to see you here," he said, and without hesitation put out his palm: clearly, he expected her fingers to appear upon it. "It must be a relief to take a little rest from your work."

Were some of those words oddly emphasized, relief and work as though they meant other things entirely? J'fel's gaze steadied itself a moment on the harper's face, then descended. His looking was unabashed, and it seemed to leave a near-tangible trail over her figure before lifting again. Behind him, several feet off, one of the women he'd disrupted before tittered nervously and moved off to find a new group to attach herself to. "Your glass is empty," noted J'fel, voice threatening smoke, eyes alight with merry darkness. "Can I get you a drink?"

[anhydrous]

Realizing that her expression had been allowed to roam unchecked, Althesia pressed her lips together and wiped the dismay from her face. That was growing more difficult by the minuet, mostly because the weyrleader was approaching. She turned away inconspicuously, catching sight of him in her peripheral vision and feigning delight. “J’fel,” she greeted with a quarter turn to face him, elbow bent just so as to offer a bit of poise.

While Althesia had never really been one for pleasantries, she surrendered her massacred fingertips with a polite smile. “The pleasure is mine,” she said fondly, beginning the dance of words that seemed to flow so freely between them. Lightly her hand rested across his palm, in accordance to his wishes, the woman knowing that it would be best to get such an exchange out of the way before J’rad returned.

With a halfhearted attempt to feign confusion, Althesia ignored the particular stresses of J’fel’s words. “A relief,” she echoed in confirmation, “And while that underpainting isn’t very impressive, it means that we’re finally getting somewhere.” The canvas had been stored away between sessions, but J’fel had been looking in on her progress often. She assumed it wasn’t actually to look at the painting, but who knew? Either way, Althesia was quite used to the curious glances that her work received in the early stages. Few understood oil paints, and even fewer were actually interested in learning.

It had taken little thought to mark J’fel as a man who was far too distracted with the painter to notice the intricacies of paint layering, but she never attempted to dumb down her process when asked of it. They had spoken about it briefly, the conversation always turning in a different direction rather quickly.

She assumed that this would be no different, that thought confirmed as his eyes began to wander. She caught his eye with a bemused smile, curious to see if disappointment would register at the lack of visible cleavage. He hadn’t seemed to notice, that, or he was as good at hiding his emotions as the Harper was. Anxieties swirled below Althesia’s pleasantly apathetic exterior, eyes still light with the atmosphere of the party.

The offer of a drink was much harder to pass off. “I probably shouldn’t,” she ventured, carefully cool. “After all, the dragons are scheduled to sit for me tomorrow morning.” This, actually, was a reasonable excuse. She doubted it would fly, seeing as how she had never refused a drink before, but that could hardly be helped. She met his eyes with little sense of reserve, her chest warming on its own accord. Try as she might to fight off the thought, her mind kept returning to the sweet sensation of the weyrleader’s skin on hers. Such dangerous thoughts.

[Invisible]

“Indeed,” G’tet answered with a wide grin for Emeni and Rivaly. “Anything at all. Can I fetch you a drink then, healer? Beer, wine, something stronger? Don’t tell me you don’t drink I believe I will just cry.” His face scrunched up into an overly done bawl baby expression before he broke it with a laugh. “You realize, ladies, that you’re going to make the more manly riders think something is wrong with them. Poor little greenrider me surrounded by attractive women.” He finishes off his beer and sets it on the empty table nearby that screams to be used for just that.

He doesn’t go to get another although perhaps he might if Rivaly asks for a drink. G’tet does give Emeni’s bottle a pointed look. “And you, Emeni? Or do we need to watch what you drink? I don’t want your father accusing me of getting his baby girl drunk.” Another wink and then he glances towards the entrance to the bowl as a smile grows. “Ah. And Genet says hello, Emeni. And I told you she’d be jealous she didn’t get to come.”

[blueaid]

Rivaly watched Masha with tolerant amusement, familiar enough not to question the busybody nature of the woman. She shared that same amusement with her daughter once the woman went gallivanting off, and answered the apology with a blithe, "Don't be. I was just people-watching." Which is what she was apt to go back to doing, even being absorbed into the society between G'tet and Emeni.

"Please, don't let me interrupt your talk about whatever. I'm happy to..." Stand around quietly and creep people out with her presence? She at least had the polite presence of mind to add, "It's nice to meet you both. Emeni and... G'tet, yes?" A hand offered out to whichever one wasn't so preoccupied with beer that they couldn't handshake.

[Omnia Munda]

The obedience of her fingers pleased him, and to express his pleasure J'fel bent to press lips to their overworked tips.

"I have no desire to hurry you," he reminded her after that, straightening and releasing her hand into her own care once more. Indeed, he knew little about painting in oils - aside from that it was the most expensive, most complicated, and most time-consuming option producing the product most able to withstand the ravages of time. For a grand-scale work to be hung somewhere prominent in the Weyr, it was perfect. It was perfect, also, for retaining Althesia for as long as possible - though her company had been less varied in its purposes since then. The harper worked, J'fel reflected, too much.

This reflection did not make him more inclined to let Althesia off the hook where drinks were concerned. "Come now," he purred, "the dragons have never minded if you must postpone or delay a sitting. And just a drink or two with me is hardly likely to hinder your work, is it?" J'fel tilted down his head and tipped up his deep-as-oceans gaze, sparkling and alive. "You know what a great drinker I am," he added, drily, with a lift of his own barely-touched glass. She, most likely, understood by now how little of a drinker the weyrleader was. Harmless, obviously.

[dragon]

J'rad held his place as S'lyn held eye contact. Perhaps J'rad did cross the line. Well, ok, he did. But it probably wasn't the first time and it likely wasn't the last. The truth was, as much as S'lyn and J'rad had their similiarities, there were many more differences and the two of them clashing or rubbing the other the wrong way, wasn't surprising. However, such confrontations as this one didn't hold long. Proven by S'lyn's wave of hand and request that he introduce Althesia to him once new arrivals started to slow. J'rad nodded in agreement. Tight with words he may be, J'rad was unusually rushed as he turned on his heels back to the woman who made her place in his weyr.

J'rad was slow to make his way through the weyr. There were so many guests trickling in, certainly more than the usual nights with his wing. J'rad wouldn't push his way past people as was his habit. No, he'd been improving on that as well. He wasn't nearly the heartless brute he was before. There were changes, some more subtle than others. As he inched and squeezed his way through some of the more heavily populated areas of S'lyn's weyr, J'rad saw that his haste was not misplaced. Apparently J'fel saw his window of opportunity and seized it when the older bronzerider had left to talk with S'lyn.

There was no other reaction beyond an unusual speed in his step as he had slid his way this far. J'rad's face was emotionless, replaced by the scowl he knew S'lyn would rather him not have. He slowed his pace to casual as he made his way over to his woman. Emphasis on this thought. Was J'rad becoming possesive? Surely he thought of Althesia beyond simply an object he owned. However, he recalled the arguement and what had happened. It wasn't unusual for J'rad to feel something in the pit of his stomach, some sort of aggitation that this boy weyrleader was hovering over Althesia like she were some piece of meat. Could he trust Althesia? He certainly had felt like he could after their little talk that included Rivalry, who's presence was not lost on him as he had made his way through the crowd. But now he was a bit unsure of that.

As he concluded his approach, he caught the tail end of J'fel's words. "I'm certain she does", J'rad said dry and emotionless to the weyrleader as he looked to Althesia. There was something implied in that tone that couldn't be missed, however. Ah, but he had a way out of this that was already provided to him. He didn't care for J'fel's presence here, nor did he care for any confrontation and if Althesia wanted a way out of this, he had it. "S'lyn wishes me to introduce you", J'rad spoke to her, now ignoring the other bronzerider's presence. The words were as emotionless as before and offered nothing beyond simple fact.

Now he would wait. Wait for Althesia's response. If she wished to, they would meet with S'lyn at this moment. Whether or not new arrivals had slowed would be of no thought to J'rad.

[anhydrous]

The weyrleader’s charms might not have been enough to woo Althesia’s mind, but her body was perfectly captivated by them. Heat gathered like a knot in her stomach, the brush of his lips against her hand intoxicating. She smashed the thoughts ruthlessly, sure to keep her expression pleasant as she imagined herself brutally extinguishing the fire in her employer’s perfectly sparkling eyes.

J’fel’s way with words was remarkable, effortlessly brushing aside everything in his path with delicate subtlety. It was nearly impossible to politely decline anything from him, a feat which the Harper found herself forced to tackle as gracefully as possible.

With as much charm as she could muster, Althesia let a warm smile lace her second rejection. “I really shouldn’t,” she stressed, realizing that this new habit could give her away much quicker than any outward changes would. J’fel might not be a drinker, but Althesia undoubtedly made up for it. A glass of something was always sitting close to her easel while she painted, often times the glass in one hand and her brush in the other.

J’rad’s sudden presence was met with carefully concealed gratitude. His introduction had been callous, but for once Althesia did not bother to soothe over the rudeness. She simply smiled apologetically, then allowed her eyes to roam up to meet her bronzer’s. With that one glimpse the memories of J’fel’s skin rubbing deliciously against hers were effectively sedated, her pulse slowing from the ridiculous speed it had taken up while alone with the weyrleader.

She offered no explanation as to why J’rad would desire her presence, simply letting one of her hands slip silently into his. “S’lyn?” She questioned needlessly, “Our host?” She sought to marry the request with a sense of urgency and duty, also evident in the slight surprise on her face. “We should not keep him waiting, then.” Her words were clipped, suddenly busy instead of casual.

With a pleasantly polite smile, Althesia excused herself. “Thank you for the company, Weyrleader,” she said graciously, the careful glint in her eye expressing the grave apology that was due for her request to cut the exchange short. You’d think she’d been given lessons in the art of conversation! Oh wait... Harper. Yeah.

[Slim]

"Nice to meet you, too," Emeni answered the healer with a bright smile. "And you're not interrupting, so go ahead and say what pops to mind. I sure won't mind. And hi to Genet, too," she added for G'tet, but she glanced back at the bowl looking puzzled. Well, whatever he and Genet were up to, maybe she was better off not knowing about it.

Emeni cradled her beer close to her chest, miming defensive outrage. "I may be little, but I can hold my liquor." Just to prove it, she finished off her beer as well and plunked it on the table next to the greenrider's empty. "It's just that my Pop's kind of old-fashioned, thinks drinking beer's not real ladylike. Wine'd be okay, but I don't feel like it tonight, ya know?" She shrugged, then turned on her grin again. It was like her good cheer could be controlled by a lightswitch, flicking on and off at need. "So another beer for me, please."

[Invisible]

Having just freed his hand G’tet was able to take Rivaly’s hand and give it a squeeze if not a shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Rivaly,” he tells the healer with a grin. “There’s no reason to go running off at all. We’re happy for the company.” As for Emeni the greenrider resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle her hair instead giving her a shallow little bow. “Ah, my deepest apologies, miss. You are a fierce drinker I am sure!” A wink after his words followed by a half step back. “A beer then for you. Rivaly? You must drink something. Wine or beer for you? I shall fetch and carry for your lovely ladies as much as you might need me to this evening. It is the least I can do.”

[blueaid]

Further evidence proving that Rivaly was doomed for a life of wallflowering: she answered the beer offer with a quick, sure shake of her head. "Thank you, G'tet, but I don't indulge." In anthing. Ever.

Her eyes tracked Emeni's beer though, watched it lift and drain, let it twitch a smile. "Both of your parents seem meddlesome then, in their own ways, Emeni. Or have I read the situation wrong?" And she highly doubted she could possibly have done that!

[Slim]

Emeni winked back at the greenrider, telling him, "You bet your butt I am." She shot Rivaly a quizzical look when the offer of beer was refused, but was willing to accept the healer's eccentricities with a shrug. Healers were weird, she knew that.

"Ah, you pegged it," she told Rivaly, rolling her eyes at the thought of her meddlesome parents. "They mean well, but they could make ya crazy. Like I said, real old-fashioned stuff. Smile nice, drink only wine (and only a little), wear skirts - and you know I do, just not all the time." She tugged the loose pants she was wearing now. For all her complaints about her parents, though, it seemed that some of their influence had gotten to her: Emeni had dressed up nicely for the occasion, but she'd chosen modest clothes that covered her skin from neck to ankle.

Explaining her defiant choice of the pants, Emeni added, "See, I don't like riding dragons in a skirt. You do your best to make sure your panties don't wind up touching 'em, but what if? You know? Chadath may not mind, but I do." She stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose at the gross-ness of the thought.

[Invisible]

The look G’tet gave Rivaly needed no training to recognize. She was clearly nuts, but he was far too polite to say that to a woman so he just smiled at her and turned to Emeni. “I’ll be right back then. Feel free to talk about how great I am while I am gone.” He winked at his wingleader’s daughter and headed for where the refreshments were. The swagger in his steps was overdone, comically so, and he laughed when one of his wingmates pointed it out over the beer bottles laid out.

[Omnia Munda]

"As the lady likes," replied J'fel. His words were gentle enough: if Althesia chose not to imbibe, he'd hardly force a drink upon her. But his eyes threatened trouble for another time, sparkling with a pleasurable suspicion from above the rim of his own glass as he tipped it up to drink.

He was only just lowering the glass when J'rad appeared. That appearance earned the weyrleader's nearly fond roll of eyes, as though the other bronzerider had a habit for untimely interruptions and J'fel had long since learned tolerance of it - though certainly none of this was true. "Of course," he said, drily. "Take her to meet S'lyn."

Trade a young weyrleader for an old one, thought J'fel, sidestepping to let the couple-apparent leave him for the party's host. As they went, one thick dark brow popped upward, inspired by a different thought.

Whatever it was, the weyrleader kept it to himself. He and the rest of his drink wandered off to talk with two of his mates who'd arrived since.

[dragon]

J'rad simply looked at Althesia as she questioned, then answered herself. Ah, but such words were more than enough of an answer to some of the questions bouncing around in J'rad's mind. She played well, but she wanted the escape he provided. If the man could ever smile, he likely would have. But he didn't. One would wonder if he could smile. Though, admittingly, the time, place, and situation didn't make such a smile an option.

The slip of Althesia's hand into his was welcome, such delicate and warm hands compared to the cold and tough of his own. He didn't dwell on this or show outwardly, turning to the boy weyrleader as he seemed to command him to do what he just said he would. "I will", emotionless, gruff, but one might think he was obeying an order, others may think it humor if the situation were known. Whatever it was, they stood out as simple words, a fact and testiment that he'd take her to S'lyn. J'rad wasn't one for pleasantries either so the two left as the weyrleader made his way off as well, two separate destinations.

Once they were lost in a crowd of people, J'rad glanced curiously at Althesia. There was no words, but J'rad's looks and expressions usually spoke volumes. J'rad was interested in Althesia's reactions and ready acceptance to leave. In some manner, she'd earned more of his trust. That previous doubt that he had before trickled away. Perhaps this was J'rad's version of happy. He was certainly pleased, and that curious look showed it.