Fort Weyr - Dtirae's Weyr

The curtain that blocks the outside ledge from the rest of the weyr is no simple curtain: it is made from animal pelts, carefully woven together to create a door that is not quite a door, but it battles the heat and cold in the various seasons to provide the weyr with a certain warmth. And, that is only the beginning. The weyr can most simply be described as: tribal or wild. Pelts of various animals, likely all kills from the Weyrwoman, line the walls. Amongst the many kinds is one particularly large feline, male to be exact, and largest among all of the other pelts with the color being a bright golden. It rest beside the large wooden desk settled off in the corner. The desk is lined almost constantly with paperwork, likely the place the Weyrwoman retreats to when things are far from quiet in the offices. The rest of the living area is quite cozy: a hearth is settled on the opposite side with a pelt on the floor before it. A small table and two chairs are a little towards the center of the room, both quite quaint and dainty looking: out of place for this very tribal setting.
Another curtain blocks the way into another section of the weyr. This section is the sleeping area and, bathing cavern combined. The bath that occupies the weyr is large, roomy enough for two but, from the looks of it: it has barely been touched in Turns. Across from the bathing area is where the bed is settled. Pelts also cover the bedding, providing blankets as they have been specially tailored to cater to that purpose. Of course, there are more pelts lining the wall of the whole area. However, the other details are softer and a little more welcoming. Shelves beside the bathtub provide various goods, such as soapsand and towels. Bookshelves are near the bed, and soft non-animal rugs, line the floor to provide a warmer surface to place one's feet on in the mornings. A wardrobe is also settled in the room, placed in the middle between both the sleeping area and the bathing area.


Normally, Dtirae would be up at dawn and on her way about her regular duties. But, a broken leg doesn't normally work well with that plan. And then there's the fact that she departed well before Kouzevelth's flight, before returning when word of the results reached Zuvaleyuth. That paired with her broken leg has the Weyrwoman settled in her weyr, lights on so that she can read. On the bed is where she's settled, working on reports with a very bored expression firmly settled on her face. It's far from pretty, that expression. As for Zuvaleyuth? She's settled at the ledge, allowing guests to enter without complaint or preventing entrance.

D'ani makes his way up those stairs with a laden tray, bows respectfully to Zuvaleyuth and enters with a call, "Rae?" Because well, manners! Not that he expects she's sleeping at this time of the day but he doesn't want to startle her. Though with a tattle-tale dragon, that would be a challenge. "I bring brunch!" He ducks through the pelt-curtain and looks around the furry weyr for her, directing his first glance towards that desk, which is where he's expecting to find her.

Zuvaleyuth gives a very pleasant greeting, rumbling with a sort of delight? Hard to tell. Dtirae's glancing upward at D'ani's call of her nickname, but certainly not getting off the bed. She's far to comfortable to go and greet him. "You may enter." She calls back, the expression of bordem fading in favor of a grin. As he looks to the desk, she chuckles softly and shifts on the bed to clear up some space for the plate… And her boyfriend. "The desk was boring, I moved to the bed."

So that desk chair is empty. That registers just about the same time Dtirae's voice comes from the direction of her bed. "I see," he says with a lop-sided smile tugging at his mouth. "Don't get up," he adds, almost out of habit because that leg is still mending. Duh, D'ani, she had to get up on Zuvaleyuth to get her out of the Weyr! As soon as the thought flashes through his mind his face sobers. "We can't have you bored, can we? You do dangerous things when you're bored. Like go fishing with a madman." He sets the tray down on her bed, leans to give her cheek a kiss. The tray, incidentally has two mugs and a steaming pot of klah on it, some pastries, cheese, finger sandwiches, a bowl of berries and some fancy confections. Two long-stemmed glasses and a corked bottle with plates, silverware and napkins. Loaded. Did he mention this is a champagne brunch?

She won't go telling D'ani she's been getting up a whole bunch already, simply smiling in response to the statement. Though, maybe she looks a touch too amused. "Nope. A bored Weyrwoman is a dangerous Weyrwoman. Though, I have to say fishing with a madman has been one of my better decisions." She notes fondly as he kisses her cheek, said cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. Incidently, she looks far more content than bored now. Paperwork is almost entirely tossed aside as her attention is shifting to the tray, a look over it is given before her gaze settles back on D'ani. "You spoil me." Not that Dtirae is complaining any. She's smiling like a fool, after all.

D'ani will go about collecting those papers into a pile - a haphazard one at that. It'll help her alleviate boredom later when she has to re-sort them. These are set off somewhere, her bed stand if she has one, a table if not. Or the floor. Anywhere out of the way. His boots are shed and he's settling himself in the space cleared, carefully so the tray doesn't spill it's contents in her bed. She may be getting brunch, but does she get a champagne brunch? And he's missed breakfast, so if she's not hungry, he'll be happy to devour it. "Someone has to," he murmurs with a half-smirk, lifting the bottle with a questioning look. Bubbly or klah?

Dtirae will likely fuss at him later for runing the order of her papers (not that it was organized in the first place!) and then go about sorting it. She'll keep the tray steady as he settles before she goes and settles in closer to him, stretching out her non-damaged leg and watching him with a curious gaze. At least, she'll watch him for a moment before picking at a few things to pop into her mouth without much regard as to what they are. "Lucky you. And, lucky me. I think I have captured the most handsome bronzerider in the Weyr." A grin forms and she nods to the bubbly. "How are you doing, D? Big D?" Is she seeking a new nickname? Or, is she hinting at something? So hard to tell.

D'ani will shush Dtirae from her fussing, removing those papers from her reach if she persists and chiding her with a moch-stern, "It's your Breaktime, Miss Weyrwoman. No working off the clock." When she does settle in against him, he's half-reclined, propped up by one elbow. He pops the cork and slowly pours a glass. It's offered to her first, then he pours one for himself. All the while he's under that stare of hers and aware of it. He sips eyes on her, but doesn't speak until he lowers it. "That's quite the compliment, there Lady. Thank you." His look turns quizzical at the nickname, or whatever it is. "D? Big D? What now?" If she's hinting, he's totally missing it. He answers her after a beat. "I'm…at a loss. How're you?"

"I never get off the clock." But, for D'ani? Maybe. She makes herself comfortable against him and takes the glass that he offers to her, taking a sip and then examining the glass after a moment before tilting her gaze back at him. Dtirae chuckles softly, "well, I certainly think it is true. But, I'm also horridly bias." A grin, "you call me Rae and your name is already shortened. Big D sounds… Intimidating." But, she's also laughing as she says this. Not so intimidating, really. "Why are you at a loss, dear D'ani? And, I'm doing quite well. I have my boyfriend spoiling me."

D'ani snorts regarding the clock. She knows what he thinks about that. He shakes his head, long-suffering at her explanation. "So Big D is a nickname, eh?" Dryly, "Hate to break it to you, but I'm hardly intimidating." Yeah, yeah, he hears her laughing! Might as well admit it, right? His second sip, smirk curled around the edges of his glass, drains it and the flute is set down on the tray. Still smirking, he leans forward feigning a sexy-voice while muttering in her ear, "My buddies at the beastcraft hall called me Rider, Ma'am." Then he ruins it by chuckling. That fades though, after her question. "Flight." He says quietly. "Dremkoth is ecstatic. My best friend isn't mad I wound up with his girl. And she doesn't… care either way." He shrugs. "It's just weird." Probably not to weyrfolk, but to him? Yes, yes it is!

She knows indeed! But, she is a workaholic that only hates work when she's injured. Surprising. Dtirae laughs softly and shifts to face him, giving a teasing smile. "Well, it might not be just your nickname." But, she's still laughing even as she says this, leaning in to meet him when he leans in to her. Louder laughter follows his statement before she leans in to brush a kiss on his cheek. "Rider is sort of boring, unless I draw it out like 'ride 'er'." Beam. But, all teasing fades as he answers and there's a brief glance down at her damaged leg in which she glares before moving to slip an arm around him. "Well, I know all about the flight happening, darling. Congratulations and all that," she pauses to lift her opposite hand to place it gingerly upon his cheek. "It might be weird, but, these things happen. The best you can do is just pretend it didn't happen, or just understand that it doesn't mean anything. I mean, as much as I l— like you, I really doubt Dremkoth will ever catch Zuvaleyuth. But, that doesn't mean anything."

D'ani's browns eyes crinkle around the edges, smiling as he watches Dtirae amuse herself with nicknames. "Draw it out all you'd like to," he drawls. He curls an arm about her shoulders and settles her more comfortably against him, helping her adjust as she turns and slips her arm around his waist. He knows she's aware of the flight and who won; that's not worrying him. Under her fingers his cheek is smooth, having none of the stubble left after his trip to the bathing caverns. "I know," he says of it not meaning anything. That's the part that's weird to him. "With a stranger, that might work, pretending. Though I've never been one to lie to myself. Could ignore it, I suppose." He draws a deep breath,lets it out, his chest expanding then contracting under her arm. "I can still feel - remember? - the emotions from it and they get mixed up with my own…feelings… or past feelings for her." Like he said, it's weird for him. Of Zuvaleyuth, he snorts. How can she know? But all he says is, "Th'ero is welcome to Weyrleader." His own thoughts on the human side of that flight? He'll leave unsaid.

"Are you sure you want me calling you Rideeer?" Dtirae teases gently before grinning. As he settles her against him in a more comfortable position, the grin settles into something a little more fondly. Finger gently stroke his cheek, gingerly playing along the smooth skin. "Well, lying to yourself isn't ever good." She muses softly, considering him with a thoughtful gaze. Her hand shifts to gently smooth his brows. "You'll get used to the emotions from it, learn to sort them out after." There's a pause and, while unintentional, a frown gently works onto her own brows. "Did you fall for Inri in the past and that's what's bothering you?" She gives an idle nod about Th'ero, not bringing it up further. "I don't think I'll be very good at working this through with you. I want to help, but… I grew up in the Weyr, learned to sort out lust and emotions really early on. I also don't find it strange waking up next to a stranger or.. Well, someone I'm close to."

D'ani has a sense of humor. He is also very male and as such, he has a male ego. He knows the implication of that particular nickname, drawn out like that. "If you'd like," he says with another smile, that is tugged into a slight frown as he listens. "Hmm," he answers the affirmative to her question, a dip of his chin to form a bare nod. He's matter-of-fact, "Liked her back when we were first Candidates, got to be good friends during Weyrlinghood. She never felt the same though, I guess. Don't think she even noticed. And Ezra was- still is nuts about 'er." His shoulders roll in a slow shrug. He's not glum or hurt or pining. Just sorting through. He chuckles after she mentions being weyrbred and unable to help him. "Sometimes things just have to sort themselves out on their own, Rae. It's fine."

"I'll have to whip it out sometime, then." Dtirae grins widely and one can only hope that she doesn't use it in a situation that will make things awkward. But, knowing her? She definitely might. She observes him quietly as he answers, curious but certainly not prodding for more. Her hand drops away from his face and settling elsewhere before she shrugs. "I can see why you'd like her. And Ezra…" Eyes close and there's a nod of understanding. "I know, but, it doesn't mean I don't want to help when you're feeling troubled. I'll leave it be." And slowly, she extracts herself from him before filling her glass again. She sips quietly at her, her gaze briefly drifting towards the pelt curtain and focusing there, gaze distant.

You watch, it'll probably happen in a meeting with some aged and proper Holders and Crafters who don't get double-entendres. He'll be smirking, the Weyrwoman - and maybe Kimmila - will be snickering and the rest will be wondering if they're even sane. D'ani chuckles, amused. "You do that." About Inri, he hmms a mild agreement with her. Sure, the junior is a likable person. She and Dtirae seem to work together alright, at least from what he's seen. He drops a kiss to the top of her head when she says she wants to help. "I know you do. And I appreciate it, but I'm not troubled," he says with a smile in his voice. He's just… like he said, at a loss. It's weird, he'll figure it out. He tilts his head down to peer at her as she begins her withdrawal, dipping his head to note that distant focus to the curtain. Silent for a few minutes, when she doesn't turn to look back, he prods, "Something wrong?" With the Weyr, he means. He's assuming she's talking to Zuvaleyuth.

Those poor Holders and Crafters, they should be counting their blessings that no such meeting will be happening any time soon, at least none with Dtirae really involved. It's hard to focus on a meeting when you've got a damaged Weyrwoman who gets bored easily. "Oh, I will." Dtirae grins in response. The kiss to her head brings a very faint smile before she's nodding. She continues to sip her champange while the distant look remains in place, his question only being heard moments later. She considers him, then shakes her head. "Nothing is wrong with the Weyr." She promises before taking another sip from her drink, gaze still elsewhere before she's fetching more of the finger foods. Into her mouth it goes, and silence continues while a thoughtful frown slowly works its way into her features.

D'ani's brown eyes continue their perplexed study of Dtirae while he tries to discern her mood change. "Is your leg hurting? Do you need something more for the pain?" C'mon, D'ani, think! He'll hit on one of the right questions if he keeps asking them. "Are you tired? Do you want me to go so you can rest?" Or think. She looks like she's thinking.

"My leg?" Dtirae does, snap back into reality, there. "Oh, no. It isn't bothering me." That doesn't mean she's not feeling pain. She just ignores it, most of the time. "I'm not tired. I've slept a lot." As for his last question, she considers him for a long moment before she asks softly. "Do you want to go?"

D'ani is glad her leg is okay. It shows in the way the pinch between his brows eases and his mouth relaxes. His eyes remain on hers, with confusion predominant in them, mostly because he's got the vaaaague feeling that last question is one he shouldn't have asked. "No?" Should he want to go? Maybe she thinks he should want to go? But he doesn't, so he answers her slowly with a very careful, "I….asked you first?"

Dtirae is watching him closely, her eyes searching his face as if looking for something he isn't saying. His uncertain response has her gaze briefly dropping away, before quickly being righted and meeting his gaze once more. "If you want to go, then you may go… But, I don't want you to leave…" A soft sigh and she tilts her gaze away to consider her glass.

D'ani's face is an open book, nothing but honest bewilderment to be seen there. He does not play games. He's not prepared for nonverbal exchanges like this and he's lost. "I don't want to leave," he repeats evenly, eyes still on her are so puzzled. He pulls his elbow out from under himself, flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling. Obviously something is wrong, he can feel it radiating from her but he can't for the life of him figure out what it is. He did ask her and she'd said nothing was. Oh, wait. With the Weyr, she'd said. Which leaves her. Doh. So he turns his head towards her and asks quietly, "What's wrong, Rae?"

"Then, stay." It is almost a command, but not quite. Afterall, he's said he doesn't want to leave. And she certainly won't make him leave. The rest of her chamange is finished and she adjusts on the bed to be a little more comfortable, broken leg adjusted accordingly. She remains quiet, thoughtful, entirely distant until his question. She frowns in consideration, before heaving a steady sigh. "I'm not sure." Dtirae glances over at him, "it's just a strange feeling…"

Like a good canine, D'ani stays, makes himself comfortable by lacing his fingers behind his head, patient as she finishes her champagne, not pressing for more when she falls silent. Hey, he's got no problem just hanging out in companionable silence. The ceiling is explored until her sigh pulls his gaze back to her. She's not sure. Welp, that makes two of them. Best stick to open-ended questions, D'ani. Because specific ones will ge t him precise factual answers like, "There is nothing wrong with the wine," and "No, I am not queasy." So he goes with a wary concern, "What feeling might that be, Rae?"

Dtirae's fingers begin to trace idle patterns onto the bed, quiet and thoughtful as she watches the path her fingers take. The silence that lingers between them isn't as disturbing as the lack of understanding that she has for her own feelings. So, when he asks his question, she peeks over at him briefly. "I… Feel upset. Though, it's more of unease than upset. My stomach hurts a bit, but, not anything from food or illness. Just… A heavy feeling."

"You seemed alright a few minutes ago," D'ani observes after considering this for a few beats. "Do you know what you're feeling uneasy about?" She seemed fine to him when he came in too. And since he was the only one in here talking with her when she got frowny, even though he genuinely doesn't think it could possibly have been, he asks, "Was it something I said?" Y'know, just throwing that out there in the game of twenty questions. Uh, uh, uh… think man! "C'mere?" He lifts an arm intending to draw her close to his side. Girls. Sometimes they just need a hug.

"True." Dtirae agrees, considering. As for what she's feeling uneasy about? She doesn't say, merely considering the question with a long silence. His next question has her looking towards him, and then assessing the previous conversation. No comment comes, again. He lifts his arms and she settles easily into him, hiding her face against him and keeping commentary entirely to herself. She's stubborn, today.

Okay, so… D'ani is… out of questions to ask. He's clueless. His arm settles around Dtirae snugly drawing her to his side and he allows her retreat into silence. He's one baffled fella right now, but he's also a tired one. The flight - and the exertions of that - not to mention Dremkoth's emotions raging in his head and body throughout it - have left him exhausted. While she's being stubborn or hiding or figuring out her uneasiness, he… falls asleep. Right there where her paperwork had been, with his arm around the troubled Weyrwoman. Is… he in trouble?