Spellbinding -- {Varric / Ember}

Despite being new, this dining hall is very similar to the one back at old Atricis, giving a familiarity to the new Weyr. It is one large, central cavern carved out from the side of the cliff with many tables of varying sizes and seat numbers. The kitchens are attached, and there is a set of stairs leading down into the lower caverns.
User avatar
Fawkes
Junior Admin
Posts: 955
Joined: Tue Mar 17, 2015 1:03 am
Title: The Majestic Birb
Pronouns: She/Her, or Birb
Contact:

Wed May 09, 2018 3:58 am

{continuation fuzzytimed to about a sevenday before Lennoth's Hatching}


The idea had nagged at her, festered in the back of her mind, and grew into plots and schemes to find those cracks and loopholes in the predetermined plan in her life. As Heir, she would take over as Matriarch to the family when Mother retired, but she knew that was still several more Turns down the road, plenty of time for Daela to train as a dragonrider, to strengthen her mind, body and soul and return to Walled with a dragon of her own, not to be a Legionnaire, but a Harper, proud and strong to be one. Wouldn't the name of a dragonrider add even more prestige to the family line? She could still dance and write music, she could still marry and produce heirs, she could still do all the things Mother wanted her too, with the added bonus of having a lifemate to call her own and the wings to escape upon whenever she wanted.

It was an idea that persisted, ate at her until the very foundations began to crumble and as the time went on without any word from their parents, Daela was growing more and more anxious. She spoke with Darrow a few more times about it, though it truly came down to a battle between her heart and her mind, and she wasn't really sure which was going to win.

After a season had nearly passed, they finally received a letter from their parents, Arla merely stating they'd arrived in Amaryllis for resupply and by the time the runner reached them, they could very well be half way home. It was relief to at least hear from their parents, though she'd sent Cadence once or twice to check on them, they hadn't written. It was good to see her mothers' handwriting and she tucked the letter away to save in her trunk of things she'd been packing. With their parents within reach of Walled, and time to settle whatever disputes were happening, Daela figured she had a solid four months before Mother came calling, and in that time she wasn't going to squander the opportunity of a lifetime.

Her heart would be the one that eventually won out though when she'd peaked into the Hatching Caverns and saw the clutch of eggs with the golden mother curled up protectively around them. For the briefest moment, Daela had wondered if her dragon was in those eggs and she knew this feeling would never go away until she gave into it. So, her resolve had finally given way to desires and she'd approached the Candidatemaster that afternoon, before she changed her mind again. Her mind kept her in check though, tightening the reins of responsibility and vowing to only Stand for the next three Hatchings, and no more. She could at least say she tried, and be able to step back with a clear conscience. She would have allowed herself to indulge in those fantasies and when the three Hatchings passed her by, she would return back to the routines of her craft and practice. At least, that's how she viewed it in her mind.

And so, she'd packed up her things, the candidatemaster telling her she was allowed to bring a trunk and a personal bag or two, but they required the rooms to stay neat and orderly, and they would provide much of what she would need. Daela assured Bellatrix this wouldn't be an issue, as she only had what she'd brought with her on the family tour, though she did secretly pine for the wardrobe she'd left behind at Home. The young woman hadn't really unpacked in the first place, so it was easy enough to put everything back in the trunk and sling the pack over her shoulder. Dae popped her head out of the door and looked up and down the hallway, hoping to find someone who might be able to help her with the trunk.

A kind man named Grend was walking by and when asked, he smiled and dipped his head to the lady, said he had a few spare minutes and would be honored to assist her. Daela felt the hint of a blush on her cheeks, though she did try very hard not to pry into his feelings and instead just smiled sweetly and led him to the trunk. Together, they moved through the Lower Caverns and out into the Yard, Grend asking her how it felt to be moving into the Candidate Barracks. It was a hard question for her to answer though, and instead of answering right away, she reached up to stroke against Cadence's feathers for a moment of peace. Instead of giving him some heartfelt truth about the confusion in her heart and mind, she just smiled at him once more and told him she was rather excited. They made small talk as they walked and when they reached the barracks, Grend set down the trunk long enough to open the door for her.

"Here you go. Home, sweet home." The weyrfolk said with a grin at the pretty girl and then hefted her trunk just inside the doorway and settled it down beside her. "Good luck lass." He bade and gave her polite dip of his head, though he lingered for a rather poignant moment, as if waiting for something.

"Thank you Grend." Daela replied softly, and then turned away from him and glanced around the room. The man gave her an incredulous look, and the a soft snort before he turned and ducked back out the door, having anticipated some kind of reward for his favor, though Daela was more accustomed to people just doing things for free. That's what servants and drudges were for, wasn't it? Perhaps Grend wasn't a drudge, but he did the work of one, so he needn't be compensated for it. Or, perhaps, she was a bit too overwhelmed and enthralled by the idea that she was actually standing there, inside the Barracks with a wide eyed look as the weight of it began to sink in upon her.

What had she done?

"What are you doing here Daela?" The young woman whispered to herself and closed her eyes, reaching up to rub a hand against the side of her face, only to feel Cadence rubbing against her knuckles, and a soft trill escaped the flitter. Daelas' eyes fluttered open once more, intending to look toward the fancy, but what they revealed was far more alluring.

A young man had apparently been on one of the couches when she'd entered and she hadn't seen him, but now he was standing, moving, turning toward her and.... that face. It was him, the handsome stranger that had caused the first stirrings of her heart, of this brave new world the Weyr had to offer. He had haunted her dreams, promised her sweet nothings, sent shivers up her spine with just a thought, and now he was here...he was a candidate.... Her cheeks seemed to feel an instant rush of warmth and words failed her and only rosy cheeks greeted him.
This Intoxication Thrills Me,
I Only Pray It Doesn't Kill Me

Safryn ~* *~ Kitiara ~* *~ V'an ~* *~ Ay'li ~* *~ Elysia ~* *~ Kent ~* *~ Isolde ~* *~ Omri'vis ~* *~ Daela
ImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImage
Weyrwoman || Wingsecond || Weyrling Asst. || Wingleader || Wingthird || Wingrider || Weyr Guard || Strikeleader || Candidate

If You Want Something You've Never Had,
You Must Be Willing To Do Something You've Never Done.

#332500/#C1A00C | #8AA259 | #A8482A | #B69064 | #667A8C | #155710 | #969696 | #181D68
~ Character Tracker ~ | * Marks Tracker *
User avatar
Ember
Moderator
Posts: 1289
Joined: Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:50 am
Title: Plot Enabler
Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them
Age: 35

Wed May 30, 2018 10:57 pm

Maybe he wasn't meant to hear her, because it had been said in such a soft little voice that he couldn't be certain if he'd even heard someone in the first place. But he'd heard a voice, certain it was her's, and there'd been a name attached to it. He looked at her with an ever growing smile, and as he stepped forward, Vare couldn't help but wonder if he should speak it. It felt almost like something he shouldn't voice. A secret thing that he shouldn't share. She was supposed to give it to him, that was the unspoken rule between them, wasn't it? She would speak that part of her when she felt ready to do so, and not a moment sooner? Still, it felt... wicked, and beautiful, the idea of saying it to her, and the more he thought about it, the wider his expression grew, and he couldn't help but admit that he wanted to, so much so that he let the name weigh heavily upon his tongue.

"So," he said, stopping just short of reaching her. "my dancer, the one that owns my heart, has a name." Still, it remained settled, unspoken, her own. He stopped just short of her and tipped his head, his heart hammering in his chest, beating like mad for her, with his blood, both of those things rushing, howling in their speed because of her presence, because he could have sworn he smelled sunshine and flowers coming off of her as he stood near her. Would her hair smell the same? Would it feel like silk beneath his fingers? "Do I speak it, Dancer of my Heart? Do I give my heart even more reason to cry for you at night? Do I give name to the visions I have at night when I try to sleep, visions that wake me, tell me that what I desire the most is just out of reach?"
Dirce L'van D'kellen D'ante V'ric Na'vi K'rios J'on
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Fali'vas Koda'vis Melangell Cataren Sianca Feraliss Yaranavexa Rathiran
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Compendium | NPC Archive | Wanted Connections | Marks Tracker | Emporium


[ Threads Wanted ]

“It's better to write something, anything, than to starve the monster. The monster must feed. And it will feed on your soul if not your words. Its appetite is insatiable. Write to save yourself from the monster.”
― Don Roff ―
User avatar
Fawkes
Junior Admin
Posts: 955
Joined: Tue Mar 17, 2015 1:03 am
Title: The Majestic Birb
Pronouns: She/Her, or Birb
Contact:

Sat Jun 02, 2018 10:36 pm

As he approached, she could feel her heart fluttering within the confines of her chest and could practically hear the blood rushing through her ears...or was that coming from him? Did it really matter? His mere presence, just a step away made her whole body seem to vibrate and she felt more alive than she ever had when she saw the way he looked upon her. Daela could sense that the feelings coming from him were genuine, and that both startled her and invigorated her all at once. They were but strangers to each other to have such an impact, yet it was rather delightful to have someone desire and need you in such a way.

For the young woman, this was all new territory and she wasn't entirely sure what to do, how to act when someone whispers such things in your ears and she was prone to just slip into those fuzzy feelings that made her weak in the knees. Daela liked to think she was better than that though, had more sense than to fall helplessly in love with the first man who said she was beautiful. Yet here he was, standing just within reach and she swore she could smell the hint of spice and earth wafting from him, and that tussle of hair that just begged to be ruffled. And then there were his eyes, soulful eyes the color of the sky that called to her, made her want to fly away with him, to forget that she was a candidate, an Heir, and give into him. Sweet goddess, if he kept on like that she would almost be begging to hear him say her name from those sinful lips and wondered what it would be to like to kiss such--- No Daela. Stop it.

But why?

Because you should know better.


If he wasn't standing so close, she would have huffed at herself for such a petty answer, though it carried the weight she needed to be reminded of and got a firmer hold of herself. Looking back into those soulful eyes wasn't easy, nor could she hide the soft blush that warmed her cheeks yet she stood her ground and pulled her shoulders back for a better posture. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage then, kind sir." The young woman said, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "A true gentlemen would even the odds when vying for a woman's favor, wouldn't you think?" Daela responded, allowing a little of that impish streak to shine through the cracks of her mask. In echo of the lady's desire, the unique fancy flit upon her shoulder gave a reprimanding warble at the young man, and it caused the girls' grin to widen even further at the back up.
This Intoxication Thrills Me,
I Only Pray It Doesn't Kill Me

Safryn ~* *~ Kitiara ~* *~ V'an ~* *~ Ay'li ~* *~ Elysia ~* *~ Kent ~* *~ Isolde ~* *~ Omri'vis ~* *~ Daela
ImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImage
Weyrwoman || Wingsecond || Weyrling Asst. || Wingleader || Wingthird || Wingrider || Weyr Guard || Strikeleader || Candidate

If You Want Something You've Never Had,
You Must Be Willing To Do Something You've Never Done.

#332500/#C1A00C | #8AA259 | #A8482A | #B69064 | #667A8C | #155710 | #969696 | #181D68
~ Character Tracker ~ | * Marks Tracker *
User avatar
Ember
Moderator
Posts: 1289
Joined: Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:50 am
Title: Plot Enabler
Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them
Age: 35

Wed Jul 04, 2018 5:15 am

He did have her at a disadvantage, didn't he? And there was a part of him, a very tiny part of him that he was ashamed of, that wanted to keep it that way. He had, after all, been made to keep after her, to be stopped from knowing her named whenever he had encountered her. Could he really be blamed for not wanting to give her his own name in kind? But that would be cruel of him, and really, he had hers, and it was beautiful, and he'd had the chance to know her as the Dance of his Heart. What better name could there be for someone as wonderful as her than that?

So when he reached her, he did what any gentleman would - he took her hand, cupped it between both of his own, and bowed over it in order to kiss the back of it gently. "Fellow candidate and Journeyman Miner Varric at your service, my dearest Dancer of my Heart." He greeted her, thinking it the most proper of introductions to her. When he straightened, he was reluctant to let go of her hand, but only the most uncouth of men would hold on, so he gently let go an took a step back, still feeling the tingle of her skin on his lips, still smelling the softness of her perfume tickling his nose. "Have you joined our ranks here in the barracks then? Would you like some tips on candidacy, then?"
Dirce L'van D'kellen D'ante V'ric Na'vi K'rios J'on
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Fali'vas Koda'vis Melangell Cataren Sianca Feraliss Yaranavexa Rathiran
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Compendium | NPC Archive | Wanted Connections | Marks Tracker | Emporium


[ Threads Wanted ]

“It's better to write something, anything, than to starve the monster. The monster must feed. And it will feed on your soul if not your words. Its appetite is insatiable. Write to save yourself from the monster.”
― Don Roff ―
Post Reply
cron