Awkward Morning Afters and Realizations

Xanadu Weyr - Guest Weyr
Rustic and simple, this one-roomed cottage sits at the edge of the forest near the feeding grounds. The decor is spartan with a wide, comfortable bed and a couch, table and chairs and small kitchenette. Kept stocked with food and drink, the bed freshened with sheets and coverlets after each use by the weyrstaff, it's nothing more than a place to give riders participating in mating flights a bit of privacy when they need it.

Everything hurts. Everything. Rukbat is rising slowly over the horizon, bleeding light and color back into a world once cloaked by darkness and a spattering of stars, and Risali's burrowed under covers on a bed indistinguishable from her own in rest. She's pressed against the warmth of a body bigger than hers, a soft noise escaping pliant lips as she presses closer to that heat and fingers stretch to catch under ribs, one thigh shifting up to trap L'kan's hips beneath as she nuzzles her face into a shoulder, a chest, an arm. There's a soft murmur of something indistinguishable as protesting muscles persist into awareness, reminding Risali that something about this entire setup isn't right, and that's not a body (or the masculine scent thereof) that she's used to waking up next to. She stills, her every muscle going taut as mental awareness catches up with physical ailments, a flicker of memory giving her glimpses of why she's in this bed and a face that's not at all familiar enough to say she knows the man it belongs to — and just like that, the goldrider is shifting to sit up straight with alarming haste, gathering covers as she goes to press against her body in a futile venture for long-lost modesty (and perhaps a modicum of dignity). She's all wild black hair, hanging over her shoulders in loose curls that stick up at odd angles, grey eyes wide to take in the stranger in an even stranger bed amid lips parted in the soft 'o' of surprise. And maybe her eyes are trailing to places they shouldn't be going as she delineates L'kan, and then gathers up a pillow to SLAM OVER HER FACE. FARANTH.

L'kan may have been dozing but as Risali begins to move he becomes awake, parts of him very much so. He may be many years out of teenagehood there are some things that remain predictable regardless of age, especially in the presence of a hot naked woman. As she nuzzles he moves to gather her close, happy to play along right up until that moment where she jerks away. He at least has the decency to remain in a prone position, even if his eyes never leave the sight of her body and, let's face it, she did just steal the sheets for her modesty which really does nothing for her. "And just like that a heart is broken. So sad." The sigh the accompanies the statement is long and dramatic, overly so, the sort of acting that would get you kicked out of the harpers in a heartbeat. "You could have at least told me your name before you crushed me under your beautiful heel. For the record, I'm not into crushing so that wasn't actually a suggestion."

One, two, three, and Risali's pulling the pillow away from her face slowly, eyes rolling towards the ceiling as lips invoke long-dead Queens in a bid for some kind of answer, or help (OR PATIENCE) as to what she should do next. Slowly, oh so slowly, those grey eyes lower back to L'kan and his lack of teenage boyhood, lips parting as if she means to say something and then clamping firmly shut as a strangled kind of noise escapes her throat because she's looking and she can't stop looking and suddenly that pillow that was just against her face is being PRESSED AGAINST THINGS THAT MAKE L'KAN DISTINCTLY MALE. It takes a second too long for Risali to realize that she's no longer covering herself in this bid to make L'kan's manliness go away, and it's that realization that has the goldrider relinquishing her hold on that pillow, jerking those covers back up and over her body as she leans away from him. GOOD JOB, L'KAN. You've succeeded in what many have attempted and failed to succeed at: you've made Risali speechless. "Does that ever actually work for you?" Risali inquires, perhaps a touch of hysteria laced through her tone instead of the scalding dismissal that she intended to have in her voice. She just slept with this man, and she doesn't remember much more than glimpses of it, but her body remembers, and every movement hurts, and this isn't happening. "Faranth." It's a strangled plea going nowhere, geared towards the cosmos as Risali shifts to face away from L'kan and tries to keep herself from committing murder or running screaming. "This… is my first time with a stranger. I'm not… is there a protocol?" Don't mind the panic in her voice. "Do we exchange names, and pleasantries, and have breakfast? Do I maim you? Do you walk out of my life forever?" What happens next?

L'kan is fine with her looking, definitely fine, in fact the look on his face could almost be described as smug. But then she moves and his immediate reaction to being suddenly covered is to open his mouth and start making a comment about how that technically counts as a kiss. Luckily for Risa he does have some sense of decency about him (or is distracted by the fact that suddenly SHE'S naked again and WOOHOO) and the comment dies pretty much before it's voiced past the word "You". Luckily for Luka she asks a question that he /can/ reply to with a wink and that 'you' he already started. Lucky, huh? "You weren't complaining about it working earli… ooooh you mean the compliments." He would never win any awards for acting, though when he adds, "It's hard not to be a bit cliche when your bed partner is this beautiful." he manages to make it sound sincere this time. It's still a line, but a sincere one. Ish. When she starts to get flistered he finally gets it, slowly rolling over onto his stomach and looking up at her with an expression that clearly asks 'better?' "Names are a good start. Breakfast alawys a good option. A joint bath, an even better option. Never the maiming, not a good look on anyone. I'm Luka. L'kan if you feel like being formal, but that usually requires more clothing."

It happens again. L'kan speaks and Risali's lips part in a bid for words only to clamp closed as the bronzerider continues, stealing any lingering vocabulary right out from between her ears. The goldrider honest-to-Faranth blushes, looking every bit the deer caught in headlights as L'kan rolls onto his stomach and Risali struggles to remember that she is a dragonrider, and while she might be slightly violent in nature, she's not capable of murder. But then L'kan keeps talking (because he's answering her ridiculous question), and Risali's mouth opens, closes, opens again, and finally she's speaking breathy words of, "Definitely the maiming." AND THERE SHE GOES. It doesn't matter that L'kan is now in a position to make this entire endeavor that much more difficult, Risali is gathering up one of those stray pillows, abandoning her sheets in the same way she abandons the person she was before this flight, and she climbs on the bronzerider's back in a quick movement and PRESSES THE PILLOW AGAINST HIS FACE. What's a little bit of smothering between victims of flightlust, RIGHT? But L'kan is bigger, and probably stronger, and Risali isn't putting that much pressure into the application of pillows to faces because she's half playing (but only half, the serious part just wants him to shut up). "Shhh, just accept it. It will probably hurt a lot less than what I'm going to do to you if you keep talking." RIGHT? That is another note of hysteria, as Risali takes the momentary distraction to allow grey eyes to flicker around the room an in attempt to locate wayward clothing. Faranth, GET HER OUT OF HERE.

The good thinking about lying on your stomach is that you can be… um… mounted by naked goldriders. The not so good is that pillows can become weapons… right up until you turn your head so that you're facing the matress, though that particular option is quickly re-evaluated and in a split second Luka's head turns to the other side which is, as yet, pillowless. His muttered "whathafu?" is probably best left mostly unintelligible, but is quickly followed by a rather spectacular effort at throwing her off his back simply by way of scooting his knees up under himself and then bucking - him pony, her rider, all very weird when you get down to it. "You know I usually keep this sort of thing for the second date." This time the joke seems… flat. Less of a tease, more just spoken for something to say that might smooth things over a little. because of course it's been so successful so far.

BUCK NO MORE! There's an indignant (and undignified) sound that escapes the goldrider as L'kan throws her off of him in that spectacular feat of what is happening right now. Risali would like to pretend her landing is graceful (and to a degree, it is), but she falls forward, catches herself on arms already thrown out to brace, slips into a controlled roll, and falls right off of the mattress. There's a thud to accompany the sound of breath leaving a body on a sharp exhale, one leg coming up on that surprising flailing of limbs as her body makes an impromptu meeting with the ground, and Risali scrambles to her feet. She's reaching for that blanket, jerking it over her body and looking every bit the wild feline she's been accused of embodying on more than one occasion. There's anger in the set of her jaw and the inward pull of her brows - anger that gets swallowed down in an uncharacteristic show of restraint as Risali bites down on her bottom lip and turns away from L'kan. She's found an article of clothing, and it's hers now. A shirt! One that she pulls on and realizes only too late that it's too big to be her tunic. BUT LOOK AT HER NOT CARING. L'kan SHARED HER BODY AND HER BED, he can share his shirt. "You are…" A moment as lips tremble with the effort to settle on the right word, grey eyes straying again just to make sure that Risali feels ALL THAT EMBARASSMENT PARAMOUNT, and Risali finally breathes out, "Insane." And good looking. NO SHUT UP INSIDE VOICE, WE ARE NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION. At least the shirt falls far enough down for Risali to comfortably abandon sheets as she goes on the hunt for more clothes (though she does ball up the sheets to chuck with gusto at L'kan's PRECIOUS FACE, because he probably deserves it (he doesn't, not even a little bit)). "Absolutely insane." These pants look like L'kan's, and so those are tossed at him as well, just as she finds her own and does an awkward hop-hop-hop crash into the wall in order to get them on her legs. And then she seems to realize that she's being a terror and she slows her movements, pausing before she looks up with a grimace that speaks to an incoming apology. "I'm sorry. I… this is new for me, and I'm…" A helpless gesture that has her pants slipping down again, a motion that she's quick to still with her hands again. "Can we start with breakfast, Luka? I'm Risali, but most people call me Risa." HOW'S THAT FOR CIVIL?

L'kan moves surprisingly quickly for a big guy, the thud of her landing spurring him into action with a rather loud, "Crap, are you okay?" that is full of nothing but genuine concern, right up until the second the sheet smacks him in his beautiful (not really) face. "I'm insane? Look Lady you're the one that went all… what do you even call that move. Smother maiming? Smaiming?" The righteous indignation can only last so long, especially as he gets to watch her as she hops about trying to get dressed and there might just be a bit of a lascivious grin appearing there because… well… naked angry woman. No longer naked angry woman. Sad. A hint of disappointment might just be visible for a second, but it's quickly tidied away. He doesn't make any effort to dress though, not yet, though the sheet does make a rather suitable lap drape. "Risa? Beautiful name for a beautiful, if slightly scary, woman. And your lifemate is?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." It comes out almost as if Risali is trying to defend herself against L'kan (which is not the case), but all of that ire and indignation seems to melt away when L'kan goes and invents new words. Smaiming? Really? Risali's biting down on her bottom lip to hide her responding smile, a huff of laughter that she can't quite keep at bay escaping her as she fumbles around to get her clothes on the rest of the way even if her gaze drops despite the evident disappointment she saw before she decided it was best not to SEE AT ALL. She's NOT BLUSHING, YOU ARE. Still, she gets the ties of her pants done with the kind of precision that says she probably wears pants all the time (SHE DOES, RIDICULOUS OBSERVATION), and then she stills to look at L'kan again. Lips part, Risali almost says something scathing, and then tries to stick with diplomatic instead. "Ah - Leirith. Her name is Leirith." A beat, and then, "I hope you didn't have any important plans, because I'm pretty sure that Leirith is going to sit on your lifemate…" A pause, to indicate that the bronze winner's name should be given, "until their eggs hatch." One, two, three, and Risali breathes out an unsure sounding, "So… welcome to Xanadu? And your temporary home? At least we broke in the bed, so no worries there." SHE'S TRYING FOR HUMOR. It's a good sign. And then an exhale as grey eyes finally lift to settle on L'kan's face again. "Where is home for you, Luka? I feel like I've seen you before, but…"

"Ah now there's the smile I remember from before." Luka's grin goes from kinda letchy to genuinely amused all in a moment, "If I promise to behave, though I will admit it'll be… hard." Yes, there's emphasis on the 'h', just a little. "Will you at least come and sit down? I'll even keep my hands where you can see them." he never specifies where that would be, but he does make a show of placing them firmly on his knees so… hopefully that's where he meant. "His name's Elenth, and I'd almost pay to see her actually sit on him. He's… well let's just say he's not the snuggly type. I have to make up for him, it's such a hardship. Forced to be snuggly. Can you imagine?" There's that overexaggerated acting again, his own attempt at humour, and he pats the bed beside him once again suggesting she sit. "There's no rush to get home though, which is Half moon since you asked. View here's much prettier than my weyr back home, and my wingleader definitely does not compare."

And just like that, the smile flees to be replaced with an almost-scowl before hesitation and trepidation change the goldrider's expression to something else entirely. Those grey eyes focus on those hands, and some of that confidence Risali usually carries with her like a second skin returns. "I will break them, you know," Risali tells him. "If you try to touch me." And up to his face her attention goes, the smile that comes friendly enough despite the very real hint of a very real threat under the surface. But Risali does move, returning to the bed and the naked bronzerider there, settling beside L'kan without actually touching him (oowoo, benefits of being smol!) while pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, cheek to her knees. "Elenth. It's a good name." A brief smile, fleeting as Risali rolls her eyes and reaches for the pillow to smack L'kan with. It's good natured this time at least, no hint of smaiming on the horizon. "Faranth, shut up." And maybe there is a hint of laughter in Risali's voice, even as she continues with, "You probably won't have to pay to see her do it. She's constantly using Garouth and Zekath as pillows and she's awfully cuddly. She's bombastic, and loud, and she doesn't take rejection very well at all. As in… she pretends she didn't hear it." KIND OF LIKE SOMEBODY ELSE. Don't mind that look she STABS L'KAN'S DIRECTION. "It will be interesting to see how the two of them get through this." Another smack with that pillow, and then Risali is exhaling, "I'm from Half Moon Bay as well. I moved here when I was young, and now it's home. Which wing are you in?"

L'kan's hands lift momentarily, fingers waggling in the air briefly before once again clamping onto his knees. "Never touched a lady without permission, don't intend to start now." For all his hideously obvious flierting apparently he does have some morals. Who knew! "He's a good dragon, though don't ever tell him I said that." The sentence gets cut off by the smack with the pillow, followed quickly by another outburst of laughter. "What?" All innocence, and amused looks. "This is going to be… interesting. He's pretty… well he's… oh you'll find out. I have a feeling I'm going to get the blame for this, but then that's nothing unusual." Oh woe is he, all sad eyes and everything. Pity him! "Ah, you're a Mooner, that explains a lot. I promise I'm nothing like my mother." There's no real time to consider his intentions behind that comment as he quickly adds, "Archipelago wingsecond at your command, Lady. Please, do command me." The horrible flirting immediately turns up several notches. Distraction technique?

To be fair, Elenth isn't the only one intent on blaming exactly everything that could go wrong on L'kan. So is Risali as she makes a face, moving muscles that protest the slightest shift of her body and have Risali interrupting with a soft exhale of air and a half-accusational, "Faranth. What did you do to me last night?" EVERYTHING HURTS. Of course, this isn't her first flight, and that first flight left her body just as disinterested in movement, but listen. Her first flight was with somebody she knew - and knew well. "Interesting is one word for what it will be. An exercise in politics and self-control is another." As in I Will Not Stab L'kan, I Will Not Stab L'kan, I Will Not Stab L'kan. Risali leans sideways to shoulder bump the bronzer beside her, brows drawing up as he calls her a mooner, and she's quick enough to ask, "What's that supposed to mean?" And then they're onto his occupation and Risali's face is going blank. It's hard to tell if it's because he's telling her to command him, or if it's because she knows Archipelago's Wingleader. PILLOW WHACK. That's his answer about commanding him. "So you know J'en," she says, a hint of humor and something else in her voice. "He's a good looking man, nothing wrong with him." And then she's shifting, tilting her head just so as she breathes out, "What did you mean? About your mother?"

L'kan tries to not laugh, honestly he does, "Nothing you didn't seem to enjoy? There was this one position where…." He begins to roll towards her, but stops quickly, the threat of a demonstration clearly only a threat and a joking one at that. "Maybe later. Once you tell me about this self-control thing. Something you always have a problem with or do I just bring out your wicked side?" Or the hitting side. THWAP. Pillow to the face again. "Hard to not know J'en. We Impressed together. He's… well he's J'en. Fairly certain if he didn't exist we'd have to hire a Harper to invent him." As for the other thing… oh look over there, a squirrel! "I suppose I should be thanking you for hitting me with something soft, it could be far worse." Distraction attempted!

L'kan rolls towards her, Risali's eyes go wide, and the goldrider is immediately shifting away with the object of fluffy-L'kan-beating-goodness between them. "Don't you dare," Risali hisses at him, flushed and trying hard to keep herself from running away because that just wouldn't be polite. Or something. Grey eyes roll up when it becomes apparent that L'kan isn't actually trying to seduce her into a round two (that they will be able to remember this time), and Risali's biting down on her bottom lip again when laughter threatens once more. "If you go and speak to Monaco Bay Weyr's weyrleader, I'm sure he'll assure you that it's a childish lack of person skills on my part." So yeah, more pillows to the faces, and then they're on the topic of J'en - one Risali hears out with a quiet smile - and then skirting around what ever it is that L'kan meant about his mother. Risali stares at him for one, two, three moments, pushing at the borders of, 'Awkward,' and 'Is this really happening?' before she drops her gaze and looks away. Lucky for L'kan, it's not in Risali's nature to pry, and so she allows those sleeping dogs to lie. For the rest of forever, if necessary. "You like it," Risali breathes about the abuse, lips quirking up again into a smile that's… gone again as she brings a hand over her mouth and turns grey eyes onto L'kan, wide with some kind of realization that speaks to shock. There's very real fear in her expression, fear that doesn't diminish even as she lowers her hand and tries for words, but only manages a breathy squeak of, "Faranth. I…" Another breath. "I'm so sorry. I just realized that I…" Give her another moment as she struggles with her words. "Herbs. I didn't…" Panic? We're moving onto panic now. "I didn't take my herbs." SHOULD SHE BE BETWEENING? But she's not. She's sitting there, staring at L'kan, and not moving.

L'kan snorts slightly, "Clearly the man doesn't know class when he comes across it, after all a childish person would never hit another with a pillow, they'd stick their tongue out and run away or something. The hitting? Much more personal. It's almost like flirting. You are flirting with me aren't you, just admit it, it's fine." There's a momentary look of relief when certain topics are ignored, though the legend that is Taira would be well known by Half Moon residents of a certain age so not too difficult to find out shoud she ever get really curious. Somewhere the word 'herbs' fires a synapse, but it's slow to actually dawn on Luka exactly what she might be meaning here and while he may still be smiling there's a look of confusion, nay bemusement, that goes with it. "It'll be fine I'm…." There it is! Realisation dawns. "I mean… I'm sure it'll be fine. They… build up or something don't they? Covered for a few days? Do you want to borrow Elenth, yours can't… can she?"

And Risali laughs, mischief in grey eyes as she breathes out, "I don't think he appreciated me calling him a hypocrite." But she doesn't elaborate on that drama; instead, she stares at L'kan, and smacks him with the pillow again, because, "You wish, pretty boy." And then… and then they are having those kinds of realizations, and those kind of conversations, and Risali is shaking her head because no, and no, and yes, but no. "No. I… this entire time I've been proddy, I haven't taken them." Another shake. "No. No, Leirith can do it, I just…" An exhale and Risali is getting out of the bed, turning away from L'kan as fingers find her hair to twist in strands, and then come across her chest. One, two, three. "I… you're not the only person that I've slept with since I stopped. I can't…" Do that to them? She doesn't finish the sentence, she turns back to face the bronzerider as teeth worry at her bottom lip. "I… If…" And those eyes close. "I won't ask you for anything, but I can't do it." And there's an edge of anger in her tone - not at L'kan, but at herself. "I should probably get cleaned up. And you…" Those grey eyes come up. Guilt? Resignation? "You should probably get dressed."

L'kan takes a moment to try to wrap his head around things - how quickly things go from fun and flirty to reality. "You won't have to ask. If you are, then you won't need to ask. Not ever. Takes two, right? And I… yeah. Dressed." Way to kill the mood Risa! His trousers… well she'd thrown those at him earlier so they're easy enough to find, and he even has the decency to stay under that flap of sheet to pull them on. "You… um… You know what, keep the shirt. I don't mind. Call it a memento." because that'll stop him thinking of other potential mementos he may have left behind. "I should… probably head back to Half Moon at some point, pack a few things, he's going to want to be around when he can. Not all the time, not till things are a bit further along but we'll be back a lot. If… that's okay with you?"

The smile Risali gives L'kan is quiet, and muted, and says that maybe she's hanging onto her emotions by a thread. Her eyes are bright with wet that threatens to spill, and she nods instead of answering because she doesn't trust her voice. "Thank you," she finally manages when they're onto shirts, and then Risali is stepping back. "I suspect if you don't come here, Leirith will come hunt down Elenth." It's a poor attempt at humor, especially since those tears are starting to fall in tandem with lips that force a smile despite their inability to be still. "Clear skies, Luka." And there she goes, RUNNING AWAY BECAUSE SHE'S A COWARD. Also because she doesn't want him to see her crying. Also because she probably has somebody else she needs to tell about her mistake, and figure out just what it is that she's going to do about it.

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