Warning: Language, Suggestive Material

Fort Weyr - Th'ero and Velokraeth's Weyr

This weyr is opulent, it almost looks like some of the ground weyrs. It is quite large, easily fitting two large dargons. The slight lip on the wallow allows for large blankets to be draped over it without sliding downward. The floor stone is smooth, having been wore down over the turns by many dragon and human feet. Towards the back of the dragon area there is a wall with a double door wide opening leading into the living area. On either side of the living area there are two smaller rooms. Towards the back there is an entrance to the washroom on the left and an open area for the kitchenette on the right.
The living area is quite large to match the dragon's area. There is plush carpeting covering most of the weyr, except for the dragon, kitchen and washroom areas which are tiled. The furniture left behind is in quite good condition. There is a sofa and a klah table in the center of the room, and couple of bookcases. Towards the back where the kitchenette is there is a rectangular dining table with four chairs. The spare room to the left has only a desk in it and a book shelf.
The kitchenette is well cared for. There are ample cabinets and counter space about made with good stone, though they are worn a bit by age. There is a stove and oven, ice box and a deep sink. The bedroom is of a slightly more modest size. The bed looks to be roughly a queen size, and there is a dresser with a mirror over it off to the right hand side of the entrance. Some of the area is consumed by a walk-in closet in the back right corner. The washroom is quite large and clearly designed for two people. There is a large basin tub with a small stand up shower next to it. The toilet has been partitioned off to the left corner, leaving space for a large vanity across most of the back wall of the washroom. It has a light colored stone countertop with two sinks carved out and a very large mirror on the wall behind. There is plenty of cabinet space underneath.

The sun has begun to set now and the news has already been confirmed. First the rumors of Neyuni's sudden step down from her position and foisting her knot on Fort's youngest goldrider had just been claimed as true. Then some noticed that the Weyr's other golds, Zuhth among them, where gone. Dtirae was nowhere to be found and neither was Th'ero. Some folks claim the young goldrider had holed up in one of the offices and that the Weyrleader had gone to visit her as the morning wore on. What was said, it's uncertain. What folks DO know is Zuvaleyuth was suddenly glowing and descending on the feeding grounds. The bowls became a flurry of chaos then as several bronzes and a few daring browns rushed in to claim prime blooding spots among the grounds. The rest is typical of any flight and in the end there is only one victor. Word filters quickly, starting with the riders and working its way down. Velokraeth caught, confirming Th'ero as Weyrleader again. Something most folk are claiming was predictable and as the day draws on, the Weyr slowly regains some sense of order.

But another upset is to come. The bowls echo with a surprised and outraged cry from Velokraeth and then several folk witness Zuvaleyuth and her rider taking to flight. That has the gossip mills going and all the stronger for Th'ero's continued and noted absence. Some say there was a strange request put in for something to be delivered to the ground weyr. Moments later, Velokraeth is aloft as well with the Weyrleader mounted and both vanish Between. Hours pass before they pair return and the pale bronze takes a steep dive towards his ledge. With it being the dinner hour, few are around to witness it, but Velokraeth looks as miserable as his rider and Th'ero storms into his weyr, not even bothering to check to see if it's vacant and empty as he bursts through the doors and then loudly slams it shut. Aside from his obvious anger, the Weyrleader looks no different. Same riding gear, same knot and his hair plastered to his skull and soaking wet. Wet? Oh surely he didn't Between wet.

The waiting is the hardest part. Word reached Western after the conclusion of the flight and Kimmila and Varmiroth made their way quickly to Fort…only to find Th'ero and Velokraeth gone. With the blue's limited reach, there's nothing to do but wait. And wait. Candlemarks pass and Varmiroth meanders off to do one thing or another, leaving Velokraeth's ledge empty until the bronze returns. When Th'ero bangs into his weyr Kimmila is standing by the hearth, in which she's lit a fire. Her head lifts sharply and she turns to stare at her lover and partner. A brow lifts at the sight of him, but for the moment she holds her tongue.

Even in the blackness of his anger, Th'ero picks up on the fact that his hearth has a fire lit and that the figure standing by it is Kimmila. For a moment, he can only stand there rigidly and tense as he stares at her, gloved hands clenched at his sides. His jaw works for a moment, as the Weyrleader chews over his thoughts that are now in turmoil and once he would have just stalked by her for her lack of response and gone to brood and sulk, which would lead to them arguing over it. This time though, he just explodes. "Fucking chased after her across Pern and /nothing/. NOTHING." He yells as he tears his gloves from his hands. His jacket follows then, chucked with enough force to make a resounding thud against the couch. Then he's pacing. "Never been so humiliated in my life!" Th'ero rants on, words clipped as his teeth clench and anger rules him completely. "Insults me and treats it like some game! What did she expect? Moment it clicks and she's gone." He gestures with a rough spreading of his hands, sarcasm lacing his voice. "Damn foolish girl! Now I have to cover for her absence before the whole Weyr figures out I've lost the Senior Weyrwoman." The Weyrleader regains some control then as he scrubs at his face with his hands and gives a heavy and frustrated exhale. Then he remembers Kimmila and if he hasn't completely scared the bluerider away, he closes in on her. Which might do the trick, considering his mood. It's unreadable. If she doesn't recoil from him, it'll become clear that all he's going to do is… embrace her? Tight. And she'll feel just how tense he is and upset. He's shaking. And he's cold, despite his heated temper.

Kimmila stands still, her eyes following him as he storms around. She doesn't say anything, letting him rant, though her brows slowly rise with each of his facts. Her own jaw clenches, anger simmering below the surface, and below her own frustration and awkwardness at knowing that he had passionate flight sex with said foolish girl not too long ago. When he comes closer she doesn't flinch or move away, standing solidly and waiting to see what he's going to do. And when he embraces her, her arms lift to wrap around him in return, holding him just as tightly. Then even more tightly, a hand lifting to touch his wet hair. "You're freezing," she murmurs, frowning as she turns to put his back towards the hearth fire.

The flight itself and its aftermath are far from Th'ero's mind at the moment and thankfully Kimmila doesn't recoil from him or spurn him. When she returns the embrace and even tightens her hold, it gives the bronzerider something else other then his seething anger to focus on. Just enough of a foothold that he can calm down enough to not resume his pacing or start throwing things. When she touches his hair, she'll only confirm that it's wet, but strangely a few strands seem stiff. He doesn't even seem to notice she's moved him so that his back is to the fire, but if he did it would be welcomed and thanked. Instead the Weyrleader is silent and his shaking is mild but constant. "Had to bathe." He explains once he can focus. "Didn't get a chance. Once I could, I took Velokraeth and tried to piece together where Dtirae and Zuvaleyuth could have gone." Th'ero explains, his voice still low and edge with anger and frustration. "No sharding luck and I had to be subtle about it, less I and all of Fort become the laughing stock of the other Weyrs." His hold on her tightens considerably then… almost too tight. "Velokraeth insisted I calm down. So I bathed in a cold lake." And then Betweened back to Fort before he should and that much can be pieced together now.

Kimmila frowns, but it's hidden as she briefly rests her face against his chest. "Stay here," she says, slipping away from him. "Warm up." And off she goes to the bathing chamber. Thank Faranth he has his own private one, as she starts to draw him a luke warm bath. From the bathing chamber she calls, "Did you talk to the other goldriders?

Kimmila won't slip away so easily at first, as Th'ero seems determined to keep his hold on her. He even begins to follow her, until she tells him to stay and warm up. So he stays by the fire, trying not to let his shaking show too visibly by crossing his arms tightly over his chest. The Weyrleader's mood darkens swiftly with the bluerider gone and there's a lull of silence before he answers her, "Which? Neyuni and Elara? They were gone from Fort. They know what has happened but not where she could be." Th'ero's frustration is apparent enough in his tone but a few more curses follow all the same. Most are directed to Dtirae, others to himself and then the situation. "This is such a sharding mess!" he exclaims loudly, jaw clenching again as his anger surges as his thoughts continue to race and pull him through steep highs and lows. "If she hadn't played that game of hers! I should have grabbed her. I would have been able to chase her down! Instead I'm left with /this/."

Kimmila's voice drifts forth once more. "But surely they could find Zuvaleyuth. I remember Wiyaneth calling a brown back from Southern when he'd gone off in a huffy little snit with his brat of a rider." There's another pause. "It's going to be okay, Th'ero. People probably expect Dtirae to have a little freak-out. It's natural. She'll come back, or Elara will pick up the reins again. It'll be okay." Pause. "What game?"

Th'ero hadn't thought of that. His anger drains from his face for a moment to be replaced by a blank and disbelieving look. Good thing Kimmila isn't there, as his scowl returns with a new fierceness and the Weyrleader looks ready to /break/ something his temper is so swift and strong. "Damn it!" he curses, but it's barely above a terse whisper. So his silence should be answer enough for the bluerider. Speaking of which, Th'ero grows impatient above everything else and stiffly he makes his way towards the bathing room. He doesn't enter though and instead leans heavily against the wall just outside the archway leading in. "It's not fair that Elara has to pick up /anything/. Dtirae needs to accept it." The Weyrleader is finding it very hard to find any sympathy for the girl, even though he knows what it's like. He went through it once and now it looks like he gets to enjoy another round of it. So he stands there, features still contorted into a furious scowl as he bores a hole into the ground with his stare. Kimmila's question earns an angry snort. "She decided to put on my pants. On purpose. While insulting me with her teasing. So I got mad and told her to take it seriously, since she was Senior. Then she bolted." Is it the truth? That remains to be seen.

"She…put on your pants? Did she trip on the hem when she bolted?" It's impossible to tell if Kimmila is angry or sarcastic, her voice is so flat and dry. "Come on in here," she then says, with the lukewarm bath all set up, ready to slowly coax warmth back into his body. "And no, of course it's not fair but you know Elara would love it," she says, and this time there's a smirk and some wry amusement. "Dtirae will accept it.

"If she did, I would have caught her and pinned her down before she could get away." Th'ero is definitely just pure anger and when Kimmila calls him in, he slides from the wall and stalks inside. He eyes the lukewarm bath she's drawn with a long look and his scowl eases back into a heavy frown. "I've already had a bath." He mutters, now eyeing her and his arms cross all the more tightly across his chest. The Weyrleader makes no movement towards the bath or to undress, just standing there awkwardly and simmering in his temper and broody mood. "Would she?" Th'ero asks, some curiosity in his tone regarding Elara and shortly lived as Kimmila's smirk and wry comment has him scowling again and snorting, "You don't know the girl." He remarks bitterly. Clearly neither does he. "So until she does I'm to just leave her to… where ever on Pern she's fled to?"

Kimmila eyes him back, but decides that a more gentle touch is needed, as she walks towards him. "I know, but you need to get warm," she says, reaching up to softly rest her hands on his chest and gazing up at him. "Please?" How often does she say that? "Yes, she would," she confirms with a nod. "Why don't you have Velo tell Wiyaneth to find her? I'm sure she could. And while they go fetch her, you can warm up. Then you can deal with her." Any other emotions the bluerider is feeling are locked away tightly, not even showing in her eyes as she gazes up at him.

Th'ero follows Kimmila's movements in silence and when she reaches up to softly rest her hands on his chest, he doesn't flinch or move away. It won't be until she says the rare word of 'please' that his shoulders loose a small margin of their tension and drop, followed by his arms uncrossing and slipping around the bluerider instead. "Fine." He murmurs, giving her a look that says that he's really only submitting to please her. "Velokraeth is not in a mood to be sociable, but I will pass it on." The Weyrleader's eyes grow distant and unfocused for a few seconds and then with a blink, he's back. "It's done. He'll let me know when he finishes bespeaking Wiyaneth." He explains in a low murmur, lips still drawn down in a thin line. Releasing his hold on her, he begins to slowly undress, tension still clearly defined in his posture and the continued shakiness of his hands make him fumble. There's an awkward silence then, as Th'ero begins to slowly regain a level head and likely senses or assumes Kimmila is withholding her feelings. So of course he goes a nudges it. "I'm sorry, Wingmate." He says in such a gruff whisper he pretty much mangles the words.

Kimmila slides her arms around him in turn, nodding her silent thanks before she steps away so he can undress. Rather than stand there and watch him fumble, she moves around the bathing chambers half shielding glows, dimming the light until it's calm. Filling a kettle with water, she slips out of the chamber to go put it on the hearth to warm. When she returns, she looks to see if he's in the water yet. "It's fine," she says, dismissing his attempt to poke at her feelings. For the moment. Her focus is on him right now, especially getting him warm before he gets hypothermia. Stupid man.

"No, it's not. I'm not stupid, Kimmila." Th'ero points out bluntly and obviously insisting on prodding her further. He is a stupid man when he's in his temper. Stupid and stubborn and irrational to name but a few and the Weyrleader doesn't question her when she dims the light. His only questioning glance is when she leaves with the kettle. By the time she's returned though, he's in the water and sitting with his back turned to the door and pressed straight against the bath's stone wall.

Kimmila walks up behind him and crouches down, leaning forward to dip her hands into the water. Lifting them, she starts to rub the back of his neck and his shoulders with her warmed palms. Quiet for a moment, she then sighs and leans forward to kiss his shoulder. "It's a Flight, Wingmate," she murmurs, as if that's explanation enough. And maybe it is. "It is what it is, and it's over." Her hands tighten briefly on his shoulders. That he's hers again, goes unspoken as she dips her hand into the water again and dribbles it over his head, running her fingers through his hair to warm up his scalp.

Th'ero doesn't move from where he's chosen to sit, even when Kimmila crouches down behind him and begins to dip her hands into the water and rub the back of his neck and shoulders. He's tense for some time under her touch until with a heavy sigh, his shoulders at least begin to relax. It may be enough of an explanation, but he remains suspicious enough that he turns his head to glance up at her from over his shoulder. "It's over." He confirms, as his eyes slide away and back to staring straight ahead and into the water. Then they close when she begins to run her fingers through his hair but his frown remains. "I would have been back sooner if I hadn't had to chase Dtirae." Th'ero mutters.

Kimmila nods, even though he can't see. "I know. I'm sure Wiyaneth will find her," she soothes, her confidence unwavering in her mother's dragon. "It's going to turn out fine, Wingmate. Either she'll come back or she won't. Either way it'll be resolved." She pauses, dipping her hands into the water again to continue massaging his scalp. "What did Dtirae say? Afterwards? Why did she run?"

"Velokraeth told me she was already looking for her." Th'ero murmurs gruffly and Kimmila's soothing and her confidence rubs off a little on him. He bristles for a moment when she suggests that Dtirae may not come back, but it doesn't last. That's the thing about his anger. It burns hot and then dies down once his stubbornness and limits are reached. And now he's just tired and frustrated with the warmth of the bath leeching the cold from his body. Finally, his posture relaxes enough that his shoulders dip under the water's surface and he slouches a bit against the side of the bath. "I'd prefer it if she came back on her own. And if she doesn't… then I'll go and /drag/ her back if I have to." Th'ero snorts and smirks, eyes still closed as he leans back into Kimmila's touch. "Before Zuvaleyuth rose, I was speaking with Dtirae in the Headwoman's office. She wasn't handling Neyuni's step down from Senior well. She was eyeing the knot like it was some poisonous threat. I convinced her that it'd be temporary, that we needed someone to take the mantle for now. That I couldn't do it alone. After the flight… she was going too far with her teasing. So I threw the fact that she'd have to behave like a Senior now because she /was/ Senior. Then she just started cursing everything and myself included and throwing insults and… fled. I can't remember her exact words."

Kimmila snorts softly but other than that she's quiet as she listens. When he's finished, she retains her silence, dribbling more water over his head. "Be right back," she says, pushing to her feet and going to the main room. When she returns, she's carrying the kettle with a heating pad, and she slowly pours the hot water into the bath down near Th'ero's feet. It warms the overall bath temperature a few degrees. Filling the kettle again, she returns it to the hearth and then crouches behind Th'ero again. "Who did you think would rise next?" she asks with a frown. "All that's left is Zuvaleyuth and Wiyaneth, and Wiyaneth hasn't risen for turns." She shakes her head firmly. "That girl is too volatile to be Senior. Would've been better if Wiyaneth /had/ risen."

Velokraeth senses that Wiyaneth's thoughts reach out towards the bronze's with the chill of a full blown winter storm, despite the sun dappling of the fields of her mind. « I am Senior until Zuvaleyuth and her rider return. » There is a finality to the elder queen's voice that brings with it the twenty turns that she /was/ Senior, and the authority that went with that position.

Th'ero only grunts softly to affirm that he's heard her and seems content to remain where he is and await her return. Kimmila will probably note he's barely moved and only does when she comes back with the kettle. His head lifts slightly and his eyes open to follow her movements. The hot water is met with a slightly muffled hiss, but not in discomfort. Now that he's not blinded by his emotions, he's welcoming the warmth. So by the time she's settled behind him again, Th'ero is calmer and relaxed and almost normal again. "I knew it would be Zuvaleyuth. I pointed it out to her before. I was no fool and not in denial. Zuhth hasn't risen since the last clutch and I know it has been turns since Wiyaneth has as well. Logically, it goes to the youngest. And she did not prove me wrong." There's a bitter smile to that and then he's turning enough that his side now presses against the bath and he's glancing up at Kimmila with a long and narrowed look. "Perhaps. What's done is done but we /do/ need the girl back regardless." Th'ero pauses then and his lips twitch into a ghost of a twisted smile. "And perhaps we would have been better off. Elara certainly has the experience. But I could do without the awkwardness." And if Kimmila clues into what he subtly hints at as "awkwardness", perhaps Th'ero does deserve to be smacked upside the head for it.

Kimmila resumes running fingers through his hair, keeping his scalp warm without dunking him under the surface. Then she snorts. "Would've been better for Fort," she says, but there's a twisted smirk as she meets his gaze that betrays she knows exactly what awkwardness he's talking about.

Wiyaneth senses that Velokraeth's mind roils in protest, dark wine reds as deep and thick as blood, searing hot and sharp like the acrid sent of vinegar mixed with spices. «As you wish, my queen.» The bronze replies coolly, not bothering to mask his frustrations and the sarcasm in his tone from the elder queen. His respect is there but in his already foul mood he does not welcome her enforcement of authority over him and the finality of her tone.

Velokraeth senses that Wiyaneth's mind calms somewhat at his roiling protest, the snow turning to a soft rain even though storm clouds still roil on the horizon, thunder echoing. « It is the only way. She will not come now and Fort must have a Senior.»

"Perhaps," Th'ero reaffirms and doesn't flinch from the twisted smirk or the gaze Kimmila gives him. He looses the twisted smile though and is about to resettle himself back into the water with his back to her. Instead, the tension returns so swiftly it's visible in the way his shoulders straighten and pull back and the Weyrleader's head tilts to the side subtly at something unheard. Then he's lifting himself out of the water with his hands, one knee bracing his weight on the side of the bath and one arm reaching out for Kimmila, not seeming to care if he soaks the bluerider's clothing as he aims to grab her. "Wiyaneth has assumed Seniority. She just had Velokraeth accept it." There's a grimace then as he's likely getting backlash from his link to his bronze. And Th'ero looks ready to undo all of Kimmila's work on calming him as he goes to move from the bath and to where he discarded his clothing. His temper threatens to return too and it would probably not be wise for him to go storming Elara's weyr. But that seems to be his thoughts on the matter, unless he's stopped.

Wiyaneth senses that Velokraeth's mind calms as well, though tinged with the same dark and sinister colors. The acrid scent is dulled and replaced only with the sharpness of heat and spices. «And what, pray tell, do you mean by saying she will not come? Is that the truth of the matter or do you toy with me?» There's a pause then and silence, the link dropped to the faintest of touches. When he returns, his voice is cool and firm. «If this is the truth, then it would appear you will be Fort's Senior.» And if he could smirk, he would at this point. « For now.»

Kimmila's frown deepens and turns to worry when he stiffens, assuming the worse sort of news. But what he actually says has her blinking in utter surprise, mouth working but no sounds come out. She reaches to steady him when he grabs her. "Wait. What? Wait."

Velokraeth senses that Wiyaneth's answer comes along with a rumble of thunder, issues working themselves out in the back of her mind, lightning flashing back and forth between her and her rider. « I found her. Her mind, at least, and said she needed to return. She said no. She said they would return, but did not say when. » There is anger and distain in the older gold's voice for the absence of the younger one. « Fort can not be without a Senior. Thus, it falls to me and mine, and I told Zuvaleyuth as much. » There is a pause and a snort. « I do not lie, Velokraeth. »

Th'ero is out of the water and standing at his full height by the time Kimmila's grip registers and he pauses long enough to turn his attention towards her and her request for him to wait. So he waits, standing there and dripping on her and on the stone floor. "Its all Velokraeth will tell me. He keeps shutting me out when I try to ask more from him. All I know is Wiyaneth upset him by claiming her authority. And I've no idea what could have prompted her to do so." But the Weyrleader doesn't seem in such a rush to go storming out now and his arm still retains it's hold on the bluerider as his frown deepens and his eyes take on a distracted and confused look.

Kimmila just stands there, looking up at him, a baffled look on her face. "Wiyaneth is Senior?" is all she can manage, shaking her head. There's a long moment of silence, and then she shakes her head firmly. "You need to get back in the water or dry off, one or the other." Again, her focus hones in on keeping him warm and out of harm's way.

Outside, Elara hastens up the stairs from her ledge to the Weyrleader's, and despite her hurry she takes the time to make sure each step is carefully placed and free of ice and snow before she takes on the next one. Stepping up onto Velokraeth's ledge, the Senior (??) Weyrwoman looks at the bronze. "I need to see Th'ero, please," she says, giving the dragon a look that's all apology. Apology for her stupid gold, it seems. "May I?" And, respectfully, she waits for an answer or an indication, tugging her scarf tighter around her neck.

Wiyaneth senses that Velokraeth's mind ripples with dry and sarcastic humor, the dark wine reds disturbed as his voice speaks in a honeyed tone that is anything but sweet. «She is young and the young tend to be foolish and prone to fits of irrational decisions. If she said she will return, she will return.» He doesn't shy from the anger and distain in the older gold's voice, but his mild calms and stills and his voice takes on a sharper edge. «One can never be too careful.» he drawls and asks in a softer tone, «/When/ she returns then, you will submit Seniority to her?» Doesn't seem a question the bronze would ask. It's likely echoed from his rider.

Velokraeth senses that Wiyaneth bristles at his question, insulted by the implications that she's out for some sort of power grab. « When she returns, I will, but I will be watching her. Fort can not tolerate a Senior who runs away from her duty.»

"Not in truth. Like Dtirae was acting Senior. Now Wiyaneth has claimed it until Zuvaleyuth returns." Th'ero explains and can only assume from what snippets Velokraeth gives him. The Weyrleader doesn't break the silence, with his thoughts pulled in so many directions he's thoroughly distracted. It's a blessing, of sorts, since it keeps his frustrations at bay and his temper held in firm control. At Kimmila's suggestions, he only makes a guttural noise and begins to dry off. He's half way to dressing himself when the reason becomes clear. "Elara has arrived." Then he's shrugging his tunic back on over his head and smoothing back his hair. Just as he turns to step out into the main living area, he reaches for Kimmila's wrist and while his grip is firm, it's gentle enough for her to pull away if she chooses. "Coming?" he asks softly. Outside, Velokraeth lifts his mishappened head up from his crossed and stunted forearms as Elara makes her careful progress up to the ledge. His eyes whirl with a mixture of yellow and red at first, but when she greets him with her request and for her silent apology, they shimmer to more of a welcoming blue-green tinged as he chuffs. There seems to be no ill feelings towards the acting Senior and lowering his head, he points with his blunted muzzle towards the hidden alcove and the narrow hallway that twists it's way inside. She may proceed inside.

Kimmila grimaces slightly, not really wanting to see her mother. But what choice does she have? She twists her wrist out of his grasp, but only so she can hold his hand properly and not be tugged around. "Of course," is her quiet reply as she walks into the living room with him, dropping his hand so she can go poke at the fire. Poke, poke, distraction!

Elara inclines her head in thanks to Velokraeth and walks up to the doors, rapping on them lightly with a gloved hand.

Wiyaneth senses that Velokraeth seems smug by Wiyaneth's bristling in response to his words, as if he had suspected as much to occur. «To that I do agree, my dear.» he replies smoothly, the dark wine reds gradually switching to the rich transparent gold hues of a crisp and cool white that lies gently on the tongue and warmly in the mind. «She does need to be watched. And, perhaps…» And he draws it out with a small pause. «…A mentor?» A mother. A guiding and gentle hand and he suggests them all, verbal and by image or emotion alone.

Wiyaneth projects to Velokraeth . o O (Damn right she does.)

Th'ero walks out with Kimmila into the main living room, holding her hand until she pulls away to tend to the fire. His gaze lingers on her for a moment and his frustration flares for a heartbeat. He wants nothing but to be left alone, with her of course. Instead his chance at peace is being disrupted, though not entirely by blame on Elara. When she knocks on the door, the Weyrleader promptly opens it and gestures for her to come inside. "Can I get anything for you?" he murmurs a little too stiffly, skipping the formalities of greetings. Th'ero is impatient to get this over with but not enough to be rude and simply skip straight to the point and throw the situation right in the older weyrwoman's face.

Wiyaneth senses that Velokraeth snorts sharply, but his words take on an amused tone. «My, my. No need to be so uncouth.» he chides.

Kimmila pokes at the fire. POKE.

Elara steps quickly inside so Th'ero can close the door behind her, shaking her head and pushing some greying hair away from her face. "No, thank you," she says, almost as stiffly as him. Eyes glance to her daughter, but since Kimmila has her back to her, Elara shifts her attention back to the Weyrleader. "Wiyaneth has claimed Senior until Zuvaleyuth returns. I apologize for that, though in the end I'm not sure it's necessarily a bad thing. But the way she went about it was extremely rude, and I'm sorry for her behavior. I'm here to ask if you would like us to be Acting Senior until they return, or if you would rather we don't." She pauses, and then spreads her hands. "I guess, Weyrleader, I'm asking what you wish from us." Down below, on her own ledge, Wiyaneth's tail lashes and the older gold rumbles a rather loud protest to the bowl. Elara's eyes narrow, and the protest is cut off sharply, the pale queen retreating inside her weyr.

Velokraeth senses that Wiyaneth snorts. « It is difficult to teach students who are not present and do not wish to learn. But I will, as always, be here should she ask it of me. I only want what is in Fort's best interest, and those two need some guidance in order to be good leaders. »

Th'ero nods briskly and then steps aside so that Elara can enter without him looming over her. He doesn't glance to where Kimmila continues to poke needlessly at the fire but he knows the bluerider is there… and listening. "So Velokraeth has informed me," The Weyrleader replies in a cool and level tone, his frown deepening as he listens carefully to the weyrwoman's apology. That has whatever shreds of his annoyance and anger disappearing and with a heavy exhale and he shakes his head and meeting Elara's gaze. "No offence was taken. But you are right, it does make sense and I apologize that I hadn't come to you sooner. If you have no objections, I'd appreciate it if you took an acting Senior position for now. It will keep the Weyr calm. I don't doubt word is spreading already. So that is what I wish, weyrwoman." And his shoulders drop a little, as some of the pressure and stress is lifted from them.

Wiyaneth senses that Velokraeth snorts back. «There is truth in what you say.» He admits grudgingly. «Youth are also prideful. You may have to extend the offer in order for it to be accepted and not the other way around.»

Elara nods. Taking the apologetic and humble approach almost always helps diffuse a touchy situation. Not that it's not genuine, but it's also slightly calculated on her part. "Then that's what we'll do," she says with a nod. She glances at her daughter again, and then back to the Weyrleader. "I'd best get down to the Caverns, then, and get to work." Or at least let herself be seen and answer the questions that are no doubt on everyone's lips.

Wiyaneth projects to Velokraeth . o O (We shall see how she is when she returns. Until then, I have work to do.)

Calculated or genuine, it works and Th'ero is backing down and calming down. Which is important. There's a grimace when Elara mentions getting to work and perhaps some sympathy flashes in his eyes. There is a definitely unspoken thanks in there. "Understood. I'm sure it will help dispel any malevolent rumors." The Weyrleader then begins to move back towards the door, preparing to open it for the weyrwoman when she is ready to leave. "Hopefully things will calm soon enough and straighten out. We've had enough excitement for this month, I think." He murmurs lowly before they part ways.

Elara doesn't look like she needs the sympathy. She's clearly rather excited to be going back to work. "Happy to help," she says brightly. And she is, as she waves to the pair of them and toddles out once more, down the stairs to the caverns to do what she does best.

Th'ero lets the door slowly close with a resounding click after Elara has left. Then he takes a deep and steadying breath, letting the silence stretch, only to be broken by a half exhaled, "Damn it." Remembering that Kimmila is still hovering by the fire, he turns and strides over to her until he's directly behind her. Provided the bluerider doesn't move, he lifts his hands to brush some of her hair away as he leans down to kiss the exposed skin. Then his arms slip around her and he holds her tight and firm. His sudden affection might be surprising or it may not and he risks being so forwards before sensing her mood.

Kimmila leans forward to set the poker down, and once she's free of weapons she leans back into his touch with a soft exhale. "That went well," she murmurs, tilting her head forward and shivering a bit at his neck kiss. Two weaknesses in one! Her own hands lift to rest on his arms, and she takes a deep breath.

Luck must be favoring Th'ero then when Kimmila doesn't spurn his touch. He kisses her one last time and then nuzzles into her neck, "Did you expect it to go poorly?" he asks as he draws her close to him, bracing his legs to support both of them with her back against his front and the fire warming them both.

Kimmila shakes her head. "No," she murmurs. "My mother has always been able to navigate difficult and touchy situations with ease and grace. I got none of that." Amusement is in her tone, and a low chuckle comes with it before she's mmmming softly at his nuzzle. "Are you feeling better?"

Th'ero chuckles dryly after another long, drawn out silence as he goes over the brief meeting in his head. It's only then the Weyrleader realizes just how deftly Elara handled the situation and himself included. "That she does. Her experience is invaluable." Which is probably why he was only too eager to accept her offer. Kimmila's question is met only with a few well-placed nips to her neck and then he's pulling his head back, letting his hands roam gently over the front of her body instead. "Not entirely," Th'ero admits truthfully and his mouth draws to a grim line. "But I've got myself under control, at least." And he almost sounds ashamed there for a moment, as his voice drops to a quieter tone.

Kimmila leans back against him and lifts her chin, resting her head on his shoulder as her hands drop, giving him free reign of her body as she moans softly. It's like a 'submissive switch' with her. But her brain hasn't deserted her yet at least. "You had every right to be angry," she murmurs. "But I could've throttled you for betweening wet like that. During winter no less. You're lucky you didn't catch hypothermia." Frown.

Th'ero seems to be within control of his senses and his mind as well, though it slips a little when Kimmila moans softly. That just has him lavishing more attention on her, firm and insistent while his hands take advantage of her free reign and explore the whole of her within his reach. "Not that angry. I should have better control then that." Aparently, he's supposed to be made of stone and ice in other words. Her threats and the frown have him smiling vaguely at her worry. "It was foolish of me. Trust me, Velokraeth won't let me forget for the next few days." And Th'ero won't remind the pale bronze when he forgets. Unless, of course, he falls ill and then it will be impossible to hide the truth. "I wasn't thinking straight. All I know is that I had to get back. Fort shouldn't have /both/ Leaders gone so soon after a flight."

Kimmila shivers against his touch, her body relaxing fully against him as her knees go a little weak. "Cut yourself some slack," she murmurs, "you had a rough day. First the flight stress, then sex with Dei, then dealing with Dei…" She snorts. Clearly she's not the official Senior's biggest fan. "The weyr wouldn't fall apart without you both gone for an afternoon. Elara's here, and the Weyrsecond…Wingleaders, other bronzeriders… It'd have been fine." All this is delivered in a low, drawling tone, with the occasional hitch in breathing when he touches a particularly sensitive area.

Th'ero will brace her weight when her knees go weak, hands going still to pull her close and tight against him before they resume. He grimaces when Kimmila tells him to ease off beating himself up so much over the aftermath and he shakes his head. "Aye, it is a lot to deal with." He growls, "But it's still inexcusable. If I'm to be a Weyrleader again, I can't keep flying off the handle at every insult or tough situation thrown my way." There's a sigh when the truth over the Weyr managing itself sinks in and Th'ero grudgingly agrees. "I know. Or I know now." He murmurs and then falls silent in favor of turning his attentions back to her.
Kimmila shrugs her shoulders. "It takes time," she murmurs, her hands reaching back to lightly graze against his sides. "I think you're doing well. And I'm glad you're Fort's Weyrleader again." There's a slight pause, and her next question is asked just a *tad* fast, as if she's rushing through it just a bit. "Was it good with Dei? Do you remember flight sex at all? Did you linger afterwards?"

Th'ero flushes red across his cheeks, just a faint amount of color that could, perhaps, be blamed on the heat radiating off the fire or from their closeness. "I'm glad and I am… pleased as well." He admits, both to her acceptance to his position and his own personal feelings on the matter. Then his hold on her almost spasms as his body tenses behind her and the peaceful mood is gone in a flash. Awkwardness eases in, made all the worse when the Weyrleader turns her around to so that they're face to face. Th'ero's features are a mask of disbelief, embarrassment and a hint of hurt, that she'd even ask those questions now, curious or not. "I don't remember flights, Wingmate." He replies in a firm and gruff voice as his eyes meet hers and there's no denying the truth then. The bronzerider is not lying. "It's all hazy or just… not there. And I do not linger. I do not want to linger." Th'ero makes a frustrated noise in his throat then, as the awkwardness makes it near to impossible for him to explain himself properly.

Kimmila is turned, her pleasured mood slipping away. It's not like she didn't expect it too though, as she lets her hands hang limply by her sides. "Oh," she says, looking down at their shoes as she clears her throat. "So it's like…just waking up next to someone? Must be a bit of a…a rude awakening…"

"Kimmila," Th'ero's voice takes on an authorative edge, commanding and firm. "Look at me." Clearly, he does not like her looking away. Not during a conversation like this. It will only make the awkwardness worse, but the bronzerider doesn't seem to care for once. "Yes, it is. It's uncomfortable and awkward and generally not wholly enjoyable. Maybe if both riders are not partnered and have some sort of friendship, perhaps not then and even then I'm doubtful." He tells her, speaking slowly and hesitantly at times as he tries to focus his mind on this topic and keep his temper in check. "Which is why the aftermath can end poorly. As it did with this flight. It didn't have to, but it did."

Kimmila slowly lifts her gaze to meet his, shifting uncomfortably. But she /did/ ask! She nods once, and then her head tilts slightly. "Did I make you angry?" she asks, brows furrowing as she frowns a little bit.

Th'ero can only give Kimmila a puzzled look, never having had her behave this way with him or from what he can remember. So her question throws him off and he can only blink at her with a blank look on her face. "I was never angry with you, Kimmila." He says in a gentler tone and the awkwardness eases with the drop of the tension from his posture. "I just… wasn't expecting you to question me like that. I never find it easy to discuss. It's hard to explain." Then to make things better or simply confuse her further, he shifts enough so that he can draw her up against him, his hold on her tightens with a hand on her back and another coming up to caress the curve of her face and tilt it gently to meet him as he leans down to kiss her. It's a lingering kiss, gentle and loving but no less passionate.

Kimmila shakes her head. "Of course it's not easy, but…I just…I'm so unfamiliar with it all and it irritates me." Or more than that, but 'irritate' is the word she's going with. "I guess I don't need to know every detail…" she murmurs, trailing off and then stepping eagerly into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising to his kiss. Hers starts off gentle and loving, but then flares into something more demanding and almost possessive.

Her response is exactly what Th'ero needs and when it flares into something more demanding and possessive, the bronzerider matches it and deepens it. His grip on her tightens until his fingers dig through the fabric of her clothing and he's practically scooping her up into his arms as he dips her backwards by the weight of his body alone. Maybe he's suggesting something? Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss and immediately nips at her throat, if it's exposed enough to him to do so. "Trust me, Kimmila. You don't want to know the details. You don't want to be experienced in it. I count myself lucky when Velokraeth looses."

Kimmila is dipped! For the first time ever. She squeaks a bit and holds on to him tightly as she bends backwards. It's not that she doesn't trust him, it's just a surprise! She hisses softly at the nip and nods, meeting his gaze. "Okay," she says softly, before leaning in for another kiss, and this time it's gentle and loving.

Th'ero may not have meant to go with the dip and is likely just as surprised with the outcome. But rather then awkwardly backtrack it, he's just going with it. Kimmila's reaction reassures him too and he meets her for another gentle and loving kiss. Then he's straightening again, the odd mushy romantic gesture done and replaced by something a little rougher. Now he takes her off her feet again, but only to lift her up so her legs can wrap around his waist. The bronzerider keeps the kiss going, even if it breaks he simply resumes it without missing a beat and then begins to slowly carry her off towards the back of his weyr. There he'll find the peace and comfort he needs from her and for the next few hours the Weyrleader is blissfully unaware of the events beyond the stone walls of his private quarters.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.