Who Leuka, Sephany
What Leuka tells Sephany he was Searched. It doesn't go well.
When Winter - Month 11 of Turn 2714
Where Crafter's Cavern, Fort Weyr


Fort Weyr - Crafter's Cavern
The Crafter's Cavern is quite stunning to behold. A high vaulted ceiling arches overhead, ornately sculpted sconces along the walls, once having held glows, are now fitted with the electric lights, casting a gentle glow over the area. On the walls around the caverns edge hang beautiful old tapestries, which depict various aspects of craft life.
All around the cavern the tapestries extend, representative of every craft. The door next to each leads to the quarters of the WeyrCrafter, while the large area in the center is divided into smaller work spaces, numerous desks and chairs, terminals and sandtables clutter the space.

Leuka is freshly bathed and scrubbed to within an inch of still having skin. He's currently not playing an instrument, there isn't one in sight. Well, there are a couple on a table nearby in various stages of repair, but nothing actually playable. His normal well made clothes are absent right now. He's wearing an old tshirt an equally worn pair of pants, and a pair of flops. He looks a bit out of place considering his typical way of dressing. Leuka's not currently doing much more than people watching from his slanted chair and scribbling in a notebook every so often.

Sephany moves into the cavern with purpose, grey eyes searching the room and those who may be within it until she spots Leuka. There's a brief double-take when she find the Harper in his chair, pale eyebrows lifted as she appraises the state of him. She is a weaver, and an aspiring tailor, so perhaps he can forgive her for the (very brief) look of disapproval for his chosen ensemble, mouth pressed into a thin line as her eyes narrow. It does not last long, and does not stop her from moving to his side with quick and delicate steps. Whether she has been acknowledge or not; even before she's really greeted him, she is dropping herself gracefully into his lap, without regard for sketchbooks and scribblings. "Is it laundry day?" she half teases, fingers pinching at the front of his shirt for emphasis. "Or a prank gone wrong?"

Leuka is people watching so he does see Sephany approaching from a little ways off. Grin comes quickly to the Harper and he seems quite pleased with her manner of non-greeting, as she drops herself down to perch on his lap. Shifting a bit to make a more comfortable 'perch', his arms slip to either side, the little pad absentmindedly tossed to the floor. Hugging her to him, he gives a reluctant nod "Yea, you could say that. Tomorrow wa supposed to be laundry day, then that insane rider showed up. Long story really, REALLY short, she went into Labor and I had to carry her to the infirmary." He gives a mournful sigh for the clothes he had been wearing, "Don't think those stains will be coming out any time soon." he grins though, not seeming very concerned about the clothes right not, more intend on leaning to get a light kiss from the Weaver. "How about you? Feeling alright?" He's pretty sure she's perfectly fine, but doesn't hurt to make sure.

"A pregnant…" Sephany leans back, away from him just enough so that she can get a good look at his face, eyes raking over his expression and studying it for any hint that he may be teasing or playing some sort of joke. "A pregnant dragonrider went to the Harper's playroom… and then went into labor… and you had to take her… to the infirmary?" she questions, sentence strung out, elongated, pausing after every few words as she pieces this together, tone very clearly disbelieving." She does allow the kiss, though it's kept brief because she's still staring at him in clear confusion. And then surprise, for his next question. "Yes. Of course. Why would you ask that? Why wouldn't I be fine?" just a touch more defensive than the question likely warrants.

Leuka sighs and sorta drops his head to Sephany's shoulder a minute. "Okie, Longer version it is. Lifting head back up, he slouches just a little, scooching forward but keeping a firm grip on the weaver so she has a solid perch. "I was throwing s tick for Fizgig out by the lake. And then some blue dragon comes along, and it's a three way tug of war for the stick." He peeks up to make sure she's following so far. "Then that pregnant rider……I'm convinced it's some ploy to steal Fizgig really…she comes along again, and starts asking me questions." He gives a little uncertain shrug, as if still not sure how his answer got the reaction it did. "I was honest, told her I'm sorta good at ticking people off. She seemed very amused at that." Sighing after a moment, he loosens one arm and starts digging into one of his pockets. "Then she pulls this out, and drops to the sand." He lets his fingers open to reveal the white knot to Sephany before sliding them closed gain "I don't think she really meant to give me this, she was in a lot of pain and talking very crazy."

Sephany is doing her level best to follow this crazy story, though her eyebrows are drawing downward little by little as he continues, until there's a full-blown furrow going on. She opens her mouth briefly, as though to ask a question, thinks better of it and simply settles in to hear him out. "Sorta," she agrees, for ticking people off, a little grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. But the expression vanishes the instant his hand is out of his pocket and the white knot is revealed. Their proximity, his hands and arms around her body, would almost guarantee that the Harper becomes aware of the sudden tension that overtakes her frame. Her gaze is laser focused on that knot, one hand reaching out as though to pick it up out of his hand. "But she did," give it to you. It's flat. Resigned. Her next words are a low murmured question, wondering, "What did you say?"

Leuka works to shoves the knot back into his pocket for now. "I said yea, Probably should have at least given it a little more thought, but All of a sudden, there was…that… and it…" He cringes at the memory. Unlike before, this memory he wishes he could forget right now. "She seemed pretty insistent that I take it since she was still holding it out while squirming around on the groud…in labor." He leans his head against Sephany's shoulder, wrapping his arms around her a bit more when he feels her tense a some. "I did the only think I could think of really, grabbed her and took her to the infirmary." He sighs "Then there was a few moments realizing the clothes were a lost cause."

There is nothing to be done for it; that tension-wracked frame does not lesson in the least and nothing being said results in a positive reaction from Sephany for oh, so many reasons. A frown for his answer, a withdrawal of her hand as he moves to shove the knot back into his pocket. There is a sideways glance toward the head on her shoulder, grey eyes slanted to the side as she looks at him as best she can from that angle. A clenching of her jaw, a curling of her hands, the heels of her palms pressed into her thighs as she just sort of… sits there in his lap. She can't seem to figure out which thing to address first; the labor-and-delivery or the white-knot-offer. There are a range of expressions that cross her face; shock, regret, jealousy, resignation, all of which she is banking on him not seeing with his head on her shoulder. And should it lift? Well. By then she's got her expression schooled into something carefully neutral. Eventually, one of those balled-up hands on her thigh lifts, palm pressed to her stomach as she inhales deeply. "So you're a candidate, now."

It doesn't slip by his notice that Sephany has gone quit still and quiet. Nor that her hand slips out of his grasp. Thinking her question over, he lifts his head again, watching the weaver thoughtfully before he finally nods "I suppose I am, At least til I can speak with someone and clear up this misunderstanding." He cracks a little grin, reaching for Sephany's hand again "Think about it, it's gotta be a mistake. Who in their right mind would want me anywhere near the dragon eggs." He nods as if that's exactly it. I'll go check on that rider tomorrow, she'll probably have her wits back and demand I hand it over on the spot." He smiles to the weaver a moment before it fades. "Come on Sephany. Don't close up, talk to me."

"What if it's not?" Sephany's gaze finds him easily enough when his head lifts, unafraid to meet his eyes even if it's not exactly her normal expression that meets him; there is nothing warm or playful about her right now. But she is not getting up. She is not leaving. She is not fighting away from him or refusing to listen. And she consents to allowing her hand to be held, though it is certainly a one-sided sort of grasp. "What if it's not a mistake? What if she had every intention of giving you that knot. Her dragon was there," she points out. "I don't think dragonriders make those kinds of mistakes; even if they're going into labor." Though the thought gives her pause, a slow blink taken as she considers this new idea. "If it's not," she hesitates, dropping her gaze away from him, "and she says that her dragon Searched you… what are you going to say?"

Leuka isn't frowning as Sephany works through her logic over what happen at the lake. He simply nods a bit hesitantly to her points and is back to doing what he's ben doing the last few candlemarks "That's what I was thinking about when you came in. I mean, I've responsibilities already. Lessons, you and practices.." He glances down to her still hand as he starts drumming very lightly. At least she hasn't snatched it back again. He forces his fingers to stop drumming, instead dragging a couple of lazy circles over his wrist. "And there's you." Yes, he said that already, but he thought it deserved mentioning twice. He looks back up, a smile slipping back on his face "Even if I'm not allowed to get you gifts." He tries to lighten the mood a bit. "What do you think I should do."

"*I* am not your responsibility." It comes fast and crisp, on the heels of his statement with a strong emphasis on that first word. There's a brief recoiling, an actual shrinking back from Leuka as Sephany's free hand moves to press against his chest and push herself away. But she does not go so far as to get up. But there is definitely distance between them, the weaver leaning back in such a way that it is likely only his arm around her that keeps her from toppling right off of him and onto the floor. Her expression is guarded, firm, a fierceness in her gaze that dares him to challenger her on that point and yet, promises all sorts of vile things if he seeks to claim her as one of his. Another few deep breaths, meant to steady and ground her, to cool her temper or help sort her thoughts. A moment later and there is a relaxing of her posture; though it is far from relaxed. She is simply no longer bracing against him, no longer actively pushing away from him, and her fingers curl into the shirt beneath the hand that remains pressed against his chest. "There is not me," she says flatly, though her eyes are on her hand and not his face. "I shouldn't be considered in this decision." As for what she would do? Her jaw clenches briefly and for a moment that hardness is back in her expression. "It doesn't matter what I would do. This is your decision. But I will say this," she continues, doing her best to keep her voice neutral. "It is an honor to be asked. To be Searched. Not everyone… is so lucky." A beat. "So do not take it lightly."

Leuka groans and lets his head fall back and stair upwards a few seconds then peers back to Sephany "You're a stubborn woman! That is soo not what I meant, and you know it." He gives her a little time to calm down, not that he think it will help the conversation, but it can't really hurt it at this point either. "And there is, even if you're just too stubborn to admit it." He states rather pointedly but does concede to the rest of what she says. "I will speak with them tomorrow." He watches her another moment and sighs "If it turns out they meant it, Fizgig will need someone to watch him." He leans forward, brushing a couple of light kisses across Sephany's cheek "He's pretty good foot warmer…"

Ohhh but things do not get better; that look on her face just gets darker, more intense, leaning toward offended as he counters her with presumptions about whether or not she knew what he meant. "You just said," and Sephany's voice is that deadly sort of calm that just says DOOM and DANGER and STOP NOW WHILE YOU ARE AHEAD, "Your responsibilities were lessons, me, and practices. How is that not what you meant?" (Don't answer that. Just say sorry). "And there isn't," she insists, and this time there is a genuine attempt to gain her feet, to move away. "You and I… we're not…" but she lets the words fade off, scowling into the distance with a look that could set the curtains ablaze. "Speak clearly," though she knows exactly what he meant by that statement. "Do you mean that you'll accept, if it's an honest offer?"

Leuka snaps his mouth shut when a few unwise things wanna leap right out. When Sephany makes a serious attempt to pull away and getup, he won't stop her. "Sorry, I misspoke." He remains still, no longer trying to stop her from getting up but no helping her either. With a bit of reluctance at her reaction to come, he simply nods and starts people watching again. Better that than watching her run off again "Yea, If they are serious, then I will." After a moment, he leans to take his notebook back up.

Sephany is not running, but she is going to pace; arms crossed around her middle and a rather serious expression on her face. She stalks back and forth, turning at irregular intervals, lost in her thoughts. But she catches his answer; head cant to the side indication enough that she both heard and comprehended his decision. But there are a few more passes taken before she exhales again and slows to a stop, glancing his direction with a much less destructive expression. "I'm glad for you," she says finally, and while she doesn't exactly sound thrilled, she doesn't sound pissed-off either. "I'm sorry… I was a bit… that was rude." It's apologetic. "You just caught me off guard; and you kinda freaked me out," she admits. "But I really am glad for you. And… I will watch Fizgig, if you need someone to…"

Leuka flicks through a few pages in the notebook before smoothing back the one he is currently working on. His gaze flickers up briefly whens he starts pacing, but otherwise he keeps his attention to his work. He does peer up to gauge her reaction when she says she's glad. There doesn't seem to be any sarcasm, but her reaction just makes her words see, forced. He little nod before his gaze drifts back down "No need to apologize. You were simply saying what you meant. I'm the one who should apologize for misspeaking earlier." After a moment he adds "I'll let you know. Hauser may be able to watch him. If he can't then, something will work out." He finally gives up pretending to study his scribbled notes and peers to Sephany with a little nod "I'm sure Fizgig would prefer your company to Hauser and the masses though."

There may be too many conflicting emotions for Sephany to conjure up the appropriate expression, but her sentiment is true enough; she really is glad for Leuka. A nod of her head at his second apology, though she doesn't comment on it. Grey eyes watch him carefully, studying his face before meeting his eyes. Her arms drop from her stomach, hands coming together as she twines and twists her fingers absentmindedly. "Well… whatever you think is best," she says at last, resignation in her tone and wrought across her expression. "I should… I'm going to go," she decides, expression back to carefully neutral as she makes her decision. She hesitates a moment, looking briefly as though she has more to say but it never comes. Instead, there is a lingering look for the Harper-turned-Candidate and then a turn away. She doesn't run; she's not even walking quickly. But her steps do take her purposefully out of the crafter's cavern and silently down the hall, vanishing into the lower caverns.

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