It hadn't been long since they'd moved out of the barracks, yet Daela had wasted no time in turning her modest apartment into her own private sanctuary. For Turns she'd shared her space with someone else, family in the caravan, candidates and weyrlings in the barracks, and now she finally had a place where she could feel herself think once more. When she'd first moved in, the young woman had only a trunk or two of belongings, and yet now given the room to spread out, Daela had perhaps gotten a little carried away.
Everywhere you looked, there was a flare of color with flowers in vases or paintings on the walls, or quirky trinkets upon a shelf that each held a memory, or the accents of her southern heritage with the smells and fabrics. While she'd been provided with the basics, Daela had already made a few improvements since she'd arrived as well. There was a tall bookcase in the living room that had been completely filled with anything she could get her hands on, and in the bedroom there was a large armoire that allowed her to expand upon her wardrobe and daily attire. The curtains had been changed, almost immediately, into something with a bit more color and the intricate patterns so often seen in the garb of the southern dance, a piece of her heart always on display in every room. Daela had worked hard to make this apartment feel more like ... Home.
Since she'd left Walled, this was the first place she could call Home, and whenever she stepped through that door, she felt like she belonged. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time, and it was ... freeing. There was nothing waiting for her in Walled anymore, her mother had barely spoken to her since her Impression, so there was no home to go back to. It had been the hardest letter of her life to write her mother and lie about her candidacy and tell her Israfeth had chosen her from the Stands, and she'd worried for days what the response would be. Mother hadn't failed either, 'disappointed' and 'ruined' were used frequently when describing her reaction and what it would do for their family name. Daela had tried to argue that having a dragonrider and dayhandler in the bloodline would only strengthen the name, yet Mother hadn't even deemed the argument valid enough for a response.
There was no reason to hold herself back anymore then, to keep herself reserved for this other life that had been so meticulously planned for her by her Mother. Israfeth was her life now, Atricis was her home now, where her brother was, where her sister was, where she'd be until the end. Little by little, that refined mask of manners and poise had begun to slip away, and the true Daela underneath began to peek out. Her witty tongue had spoken up more often with a quip and a laugh, or she would volunteer in class when no one else seemed to step up first, and she'd even begun to let down her guard a little and make a few friends of her classmates, maybe even attempt to flirt with one or two of them...
Much of this change though, she knew attributed to Isra's influence and the change that Impression had brought over her, allowing her to feel like a whole new person, lead a whole different life. Daela had been fairly quiet and demure before the chimera had come along with that domineering attitude, and some of that bravado has certainly been rubbing off on the young woman. The rosy diamond dragon was the sort to take charge when no one else will, and encourage everyone else to rise to the challenge with her. It was awfully hard to say No when Israfeth got something in her mind and Daela learned to accept she was just along for the ride, wherever it may lead.
The chimera had roused her early enough with a message that someone was approaching the apartment and she'd best make herself presentable. Daela jolted out of bed and quickly threw a robe over her nightdress and cinched it tightly around her waist, making sure nothing immodest could be seen. There was a knock at the door moments later and the young woman answered it with a confused look on her face. "Can I help you?" She asked, quirking a brow at the laborer standing there.
"Yes ma'am, a request was made for a new desk at this apartment. Just came to take a few measurements, make sure we got one of the right size in storage for ya." The young man said, a smith by the knots on his shoulder if the nature of his business hadn't given it away either.
Initially, she'd cringed a little at the use of the word ma'am, but she knew he was just doing his job, and the rest of his words began to sink in. "Pardon, a new desk?" She started, and then felt Isra rumbling with satisfaction in the back of her mind. "And where did this request come from?" Daela added quickly as understanding took root in her drowsy mind.
The smith took a piece of paper from his chest pocket and unfolded it with a deft hand and gave it a glance. "Uh, a rider by name of V'ric looks like." He said, folding the paper and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Where will you be wanting the desk miss? The young man continued, not skipping a beat and just wanting to do his job and get back to the shop.
Daela's heart had skipped beat when she heard the name, not having expected the brownrider to have a hand in this when Israfeth seemed so smugly content. As the smith seemed to step toward her to enter the apartment, the chimerarider took a step back and allowed him in, gesturing toward the blank wall under the window where she'd been planning to put a desk for a few sevendays now. But, how did he? ..... You told him, didn't you? Dae thought, turning back to the open doorway and her brows furrowed slightly as if she could glare at the impish dragon outside.
The draconic voice seemed to chuckle into her mind. Outside, the rosy chimera shifted to better catch the morning rays of Rukbat and the diamonds along her hide glittered with their own radiance. Israfeth continued, her tone still confident and pleased. The dragon finished with a rumble of mirth as she settled her forepaws primly in front of her.
Daela had stood there dazed for a moment before she seemed to come back to herself and remember there was a smithy in her apartment. She left the door open for now and moved into the room, watching the young man as he measured the height of the window from the floor, and it's width and everything he needed to make sure the desk would fill the appropriate amount of space. I would not, I was going to get one.... eventually. It was the last piece this place needed... and what if I don't like it? How am I supposed to turn it down? ...You're a brat, you know that? Going behind my back, and using him of all people... you just had to, didn't you? The woman silently reprimanded the dragon, while smiling softly at the worker as he moved to the door to measure it as well and make sure the desk can get through.
Israfeth replied, the few words making an impact and quieting the young woman's mind rather succinctly. There was another soft rumble from the chimera, smug and content with herself while lounging in the mornings' light. Daela barely heard the young man when he said he had what he needed and would back soon with the desk, yet she smiled and thanked him all the same, closing the door behind him with a soft sigh as she leaned against it. They had done this together on purpose, hadn't they? Now, any time she looked at the desk, used the desk to compose her music or even lean against it in a moment of need, she would always be reminded of him. Now, there would always be a piece of him inside her private sanctuary, though it seemed rather fitting since he was rarely far from her thoughts anyways...
Fine, you can tell him when it arrives. Daela said as a matter of factly as she pushed away from the door. Israfeth had won this round, there was no denying that and now that she was up and awake, it was time to get dressed and ready for the day, especially if she was to have even more company soon.
The call came about a candlemark later, when the strapping young smiths had arrived carrying a wooden desk between them. The rosy chimera enticed her clutch sibling, reaching out to the brown who had chosen the one who'd managed to wrap himself around her riders' heart.