Ain't Love A Kick In The Head?

Writers: Heather, Miriah
Date Posted: 6th February 2014

Characters: D'hol, Saibra
Description: Saibra, like any true friend, gives D'hol a kick in the ass over his behavior with Jeyme.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 5, day 13 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: K'deren, Cyradis

D'hol

Saibra

He had to get another bottle. D'hol looked at the empty flask in his
hand and blearily rose to his feet. He stumbled to his cabinet, opened
it and rummaged. Shaffit, he knew that there was one back here....He
grimaced as he dug and paused as his hand fell on a small bottle.
Ha...He pulled it out and frowned as he eyed it. It wasn't the best
drink in the world, made by a junior journeyman, but it would work. He
careened back to his couch and plopped down, staring at the unfinished
scarf on the arm of the couch. His shoulders slumped.

He hadn't been able to sleep in their bed. After all those turns of
sleeping by himself, now he couldn't bear the thought of waking up
without her short hair in his nose, or the feeling of her strong, but
soft arms laying over his chest. He held his head in his hands, bottle
neck dangling from his fingers. Why hadn't she come back?

"D'hol?" Saibra stepped into the man's weyr, having knocked on the
door but received no answer. Seeing the man on the couch she crossed
her arms over her chest. He looked pathetic, which was more than she
had expected. Saibra remembered one of the first conversations they'd
had about Jeyme. D'hol had insisted that he wanted _no_ weyrmate and
that Jeyme would only be living with him as the mother of his child.
Saibra had been surprised then when D'hol had taken the young woman as
his weyrmate after the miscarriage. Still, Saibra had noticed that
when she saw Jeyme and D'hol together the man treated the young
greenrider with a certain aloofness. To be so upset, to be driven to
drinking, the man must have loved the girl more than Saibra thought.

The voice, familiar rocked him out of his stupor and he lifted his
head, eyes unfocused until his gaze landed on a lean pair of legs and
slid upwards to see Saibra. His brow furrowed. "What do you want and
why the feck are you here?" He glowered and lifted the bottle to his
lips. The sip burned his throat and he grimaced. Shards, but the stuff
was as bad as he thought it would be, but as long as it did its job,
he didn't care.

In one fell swoop Saibra swiped the bottle from D'hol's hand and
tossed it into the trash, her blue eyes flashing, "Drunk or not you
will watch how you talk to me." She cocked an eyebrow, "To answer the
question I came to see how you were doing ... and I would say my
answer to that is not very well." Seeing D'hol this way made Saibra
immediately think of her deceased weyrmate, K'fel. K'fel and D'hol
shared many of the same characteristics- arrogance, stubbornness, an
inability to properly show emotions. It reminded Saibra of how K'fel
had driven her to frustration and cursing on many different occasions
despite her eventual love for the man.

"Hey! That's my last bottle!" He rose, stomped over the trash and
yanked it out, glaring at Saibra. "This is my bloody weyr, woman, and
I can speak how I damned well please." He pointed a finger at her, his
glower spoiled by a hiccup and a rough swallow. His red rimmed eyes
blinked rapidly as he made his way to the couch, moving a little more
carefully before he sat back down. He stuck the bottle firmly under
his leg, but his eye fell on that damnable scarf again and his scowl
faltered. "Sweet Faranth, Saibra, just go away."

Saibra wasn't easily swayed, and instead remained where she was, arms
still folded over her chest, "I am afraid I cannot do that. But why
don't you tell me what happened and I'll see if I can't make my visit
shorter?" She sat down in the chair across from D'hol.

"I would think that's shaffing well obvious." D'hol snapped, then
lowered his head to his hands again. He did not want to sober up...if
he did, then reality would become far too clear; the buzz of alcohol
made the past few days events easier to deal with. "My weyrmate's gone.
Shaffing left because I refused to lie to her. " He swallowed and
reached blindly for the bottle, but inebriated fingers couldn't latch
on to it. "I grabbed her..." His voice softened. "Shards, I didn't mean
to hurt her...I think I did..."

He scrubbed a hand over his face and found the bottle, pulling it out
to stare at her. "I thought she'd come back after she calmed down. She
didn't." D'hol opened the bottle and stopped, staring at Saibra. "Don't
touch it."

Saibra rolled her eyes, propping her chin in her hand as she watched
the man, "What did you refuse to lie to her about?" She asked, hoping
to get to the route of the situation.

He took a swig, grimaced and shuddered from the taste, and put the cap
back onto the bottle. He would have to get more spirits soon if this
was what he was reduced to drinking. He looked at Saibra and huffed
softly. "Not that it's any of your concern, but the girl fancies
herself in love with me. She asked if I loved her and was bloody well
honest about it. I don't feel the same way she does." He returned to
stare at the bottle. "Should have lied my ass off, I guess." he turned
to look at the goldrider with a glower."Why do you care?"

Ignoring the man's question, Saibra's brow furrowed as she asked a
question of her own, "You don't love her, huh?" She fixed D'hol with a
piercing stare, "Then why are you in your weyr drinking yourself into
oblivion? You are a good looking man, a Wingleader no less, you could
have another woman in here right now. You miss Jeyme," she looked at
the neatly made bed and then to the couch where he had obviously been
sleeping, "that's obvious. Why be so upset about someone leaving when
you don't love them anyway?"

His next words were a snarl. " I told her I care about her! I told
her! " He took another pull on the bottle, his eyes following her gaze
to the bed and then to the couch. He rose, swayed for a moment and then
steadied himself and looked down at his bottle. "Am not in love with
her. Hearts already taken. But I gave her what I could." He scowled and
in a sudden fit of temper threw the bottle against the wall, smashing
it.

His eyes narrowed into slits. "Yeah, I could. You're here, aren't you?"

Saibra didn't so much as flinch as the bottle dissolved into a burst
of glittering glass shards. She didn't move from her seat when he
fixed her with his gaze, no, she held the same piercing stare, "I _am_
here, and it would be the worst mistake of your life to follow through
on that next thought, D'hol." She stood, putting them at eye level, "I
think you are so mad because you have realized that you _do_ love
Jeyme. Either that or you are just sad you lost your pet. Because if
you don't love her then that's all she is to you. The heart is a very
large place, D'hol, I have a hard time believing that it is solely
occupied by a single person. If you don't love her, fine, but don't
hide behind the outdated fling that you had with the Weyrwoman Turns
ago."

D'hol's response was an immediate snap. "Jeyme was never a pet,
especially not mine. She's better than that."

He stood toe to toe with Saibra, his teeth bared. "And you don't know
anything, especially about Cyradis and I. I loved that woman. I still
love her and will always love her." His jaw clenched and he took a step
back and whirled, stumbling before catching himself on a wall.

He swallowed roughly, taking deep breaths as he closed his eyes
tightly. His fist lifted as he pounded it against the wall once, then
again. "I can't.."

"Then let's do it like this," Saibra's voice was softer now, "let's
say there was no K'deren, and let's say Cyradis _did_ want to be with
you. Who are you going to choose? Jeyme or Cyradis?"

He leaned his head against the wall and shook his head. He didn't
answer.

"You don't need to answer me out loud because I already know the
answer. You choose Cyradis." Saibra glanced down at the half finished
scarf that had seemed to enrage D'hol, "If she is the only person you
can love then there is no way for you to choose anyone else. You were
right before, D'hol, Jeyme is not a pet, she's far better than that,
too good for you even. She deserves someone who _will_ choose her.
There are others who would gladly put her first. Perhaps even young
S'avn. She's staying at his weyr."

"I don't know, shaffit! I don't know!"He pounded at the wall
viciously. "I can't..I can't just choose. I lo.."

His head flew up and there was no mistaking the wild jealousy that
engulfed his expression. "What is she doing with that twit? " His teeth
bared as he pushed away from the wall and immediately started looking
for his boots. "I'll kill him. He better not have touched her. Where
the bloody blazes are my boots!?"

Saibra held up a hand, "Calm down and use what little brain you have
left for a moment. You are not going to go and harass that poor boy
for helping his friend when she needed him." She shook her head, "What
a situation you have put yourself in, D'hol. Cyradis cannot love you
because she loves K'deren. You cannot love Jeyme because you love
Cyradis." Saibra rolled her eyes. **Dragonriders.**

The goldrider turned and took a step toward the door, "Perhaps this is
kinder for Jeyme," she looked back at D'hol, "you can't love her, or
won't. Maybe S'avn can, maybe he does," she shrugged, "maybe he will.
Jeyme deserves more than this D'hol," she gestured towards him, "and
if you can't give her what she deserves then leave her alone. I am
sure she's heartbroken right now but in time she'll move on."

D'hol stared at her, dumbfounded shock on his face. His inebriated
brain processed her words slowly and it took an effort. For a moment,
the proud man looked utterly vulnerable and uncertain; it was an
expression very few saw on his face. "I can't leave her alone...I..I
miss her.." He looked around his weyr. "It's empy without her. I..I
want her to come home. I need her to come home. She..." He moved
slowly to the couch and sat, his mind numbing..."she...makes all of
this better...every day. " His throat worked as he struggled to get
the words out, blinking rapidly. "I..I don't want any of this without
her."

Saibra came around behind the couch and placed a hand on D'hol's
shoulder, "That sounds like love to me, D'hol. I guess you will have
to decide how badly you want her here."

He stared forward blankly, as though her words had been a metaphorical
punch in the gut that had stunned him. He never considered his feelings
about Jeyme to be any sort of "love". They weren't the fiery
passionate want or the painful longing like he equated with Cyradis.
It was a quieter, calmer emotion that had gradually grown on him. But
the gut-wrenching sense of loss that he felt...that was the same, he
realized. The very same. He had drank himself into a stupor when
Cyradis had made her choice; it had taken the close threadscore on his
neck to snap him out of his downward spiral.

He slowly looked up at Saibra, hazel eyes shadowed. "I want her back."

The goldrider smiled, "Good. Now what are you going to do about it?"

Last updated on the February 25th 2014

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Ain't Love A Kick In The Head?