Denial Not Just A River In Africa



Date: 2010.11.19 - backdated
Location: EW - Headwoman's Quarters
Synopsis: Denial, such a convenient tool of the heavily guarded.
Rating: PG13
Logger: Indira

It didn’t happen. Except that weariness from a distinct lack of sleep was telling her otherwise. I’m not going to think about it. Except that, here she was doing just that – thinking about it. Crap!

These the thoughts that assailed Eastern’s Headwoman as she bid the brownrider farewell, thanking him for the transport and then steering Savod ahead of her towards his new accommodations in the recently finished dorms. A nod given here and there to those that greeted and a carefully constructed and polite smile without words attached to those, that enquired after her short absence, asking if she’d enjoyed the break, using the excuse of having a pile of work to get back to when someone pressed for a more satisfying reply.

Relief was hers when she finally crossed the threshold of her office and slung the carrysack into a corner. Immediately she had the junior she’d put in charge while she was away, come in for a debriefing to get herself up to speed with happenings in her absence. One of which appeared to be an upcoming wedding at Southern Hold between a certain tanner and the Weyr’s journeywoman healer, as had been relayed through the draconic grapevine of gossip. A small smile attached itself to her mouth but she made no comment, focussing instead on the one minor mishap where the younger junior headwoman had accidentally assigned a single bluerider a weyr intended for a rider with a family. Saira had otherwise seemed to have managed to stay on top of things.

The rest of the day, mercifully so, was busy and barely gave her time to catch her breath, let alone think. She stopped by the dorms after the evening meal to check on Savod, after which she headed down the storage corridor, returning with a bundle of strangely assorted things in her arms. Once back in her private quarters, she set them out on her bed: a finely crafted and beautifully embroidered coverlet for a double bed, a pair of metal goblets with engraved vines wrapping about their stems and last but not least, a basket containing all manner of items a newly married couple might find delight in sharing including scented candles, oils and an array of confectionaries carefully wrapped in gauze fabric and tied together with a silk ribbon.

Satisfied with the items she’d chosen, Indira rose and headed back to her office to write out the missive affording the new couple larger quarters more fitting for two to share and perhaps begin a family in, than the currently smaller room that Cheusia had been assigned.

That having been done she stood from her desk, dark eyes landing on the carrysack she’d discarded in the corner earlier in the day. Scooping it up, she headed back into her room and dropped it on her bed. Folding the sheet of paper and using the coverlet as a means of wrapping, the goblets, and basket of smaller items were nestled neatly in its centre; the outer edges closed about them and held together with another long length of ribbon, the sheet of paper with the room assignment, tucked in under it. The bundle was then lifted and carefully set on the chaise lounge standing opposite the big bed in her room, awaiting their return from Southern Hold. Although put together by herself, with the woman deriving pleasure from doing such things, it was intended as a gift from the Weyr.

This having been her last task assigned herself for the day, Indira uttered a long and wearied sigh as hands lifted to the back of her head pulling pins from the severe bun she kept her hair in when working. Fingers drew through the tousled tresses as they came free and she rolled her head from side to side, stretching out the kinks in her neck. All that was left to do now was take a nice long hot soak down in the bathing caverns and then fall into bed for a much needed night of sleep.

Reaching for the carrysack she undid the buckles and upended it, shaking the contents out onto the bed. Sorting through them as she searched for her personal bathing effects, she suddenly went still and blinked as eyes landed on a shirt that wasn’t hers and was of decidedly masculine design. Swallowing slowly Indira reached out a hand toward it and took it up, something inside of her lurching. Without thinking she held it to her face, inhaling deeply of his scent as eyes slid shut and for the briefest of seconds she was transported back to the shabby tavern. Suddenly she realized what she was doing and quickly dropped it back onto her bed as if the innocent piece of clothing had bitten her, eyeing it with the same sense of wariness that one would a tunnelsnake about to strike. “No,” fear and panic embedded into the word whispered out onto the quiet air. “No,” spoken again, stronger this time as reaching for the shirt once more, her features set into a determined line, she folded it neatly and then moved over to the chest of drawers standing nearby. Pulling a drawer open, the piece of clothing was set right at its back and then firmly closed. She had no idea how it had gotten in amongst her things, but one thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to let it get to her.

What had happened in Telgar, was going to stay…in Telgar. A lack of judgment. A momentary break in control. Or so she was going to keep telling herself until that tiny crack in her armour sealed back up again.

Closing Credits Music: Evanescence - Lose Control

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