Distant Hearts

Writers: Heather, Miriah
Date Posted: 4th March 2014

Characters: D'hol, Jeyme
Description: D'hol gives Jeyme the cold shoulder and Jeyme realizes that she may have caused irreparable damage to their relationship.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 6, day 13 of Turn 7
Notes: Follows "Everything Is Coming Undone"

D'hol

Jeyme

D'hol entered their weyr quietly. It was later than he normally
returned, but instead of eating with Jeyme, he'd eaten in the Dining
Cavern. He said nothing as he came in, removed his boots and placed
them under the table and out of the way. He moved with a stiffness,
his jaw tight as pulled off his shirt and placed it in the dirty
hamper.

Jeyme had finally gotten tired of waiting for D'hol to come home so
she had went straight to the kitchens and grabbed something easy to
take back to the weyr and eat. Tonight her knitting needles sat
unused, instead she had a book her in hands, "Hey."

He walked away from her. The argument from the night before still
rankled him and his pride had been deeply wounded by her jab. He said
nothing, but stopped to pick up a towel to walk to the bathing
chamber.

Jeyme's jaw clenched at the outright snub. It was going to be like
that, was it? She snapped her book shut but said nothing. The impulse
to leave struck her but she remained seated. She was not going to be
one of those people that ran every time the relationship got tough.

"Fine." She said to the silence before picking her book up again. If
he wanted to play the silent game then they would.

He didn't expect her to follow, but half expected her to be gone when
he returned. After his bath he walked back into the main room, wrapped
in a towel. He walked to the wardrobe, dug through it to find his thin
linen sleeping pants and shucking the towel in the hamper, pulled them
on, his back always stiffly presented to his weyrmate. He laid down,
not looking at his charts as was his habit, nor picking up one of the
many books he had stacked neatly on a shelf. He simply laid down and
rolled to his side.

Although Jeyme's eyes never left the book she was holding, she knew
every move D'hol made. **He's really not going to talk to me!** She
thought to herself incredulously. Did he really not think he deserved
some of her ire after coming home and making her a surrogate-Cyradis
after his botched mating flight?

**He can be stubborn. So can I.** Jeyme put down her book and walked
over to the bed. Snatching her pillow up she took it back over to the
couch and tossed it down. Stripping out of her clothes she pulled on
the tunic of D'hol's that she slept in and then shuttered the glows.
Pulling the blanket from the back of the the chair she curled up under
it on the couch.

His back remained facing her. He hadn't moved when she got the pillow,
nor had he made comment when she laid down on the couch. If she wanted
to sleep on the damned thing, he'd let her. He'd spent enough time on
it himself before he swallowed his pride for her. He took a low
breath, adjusted his own pillow and covered himself with the sheet.

The words that N'vanik had spoken to her after the mating flight came
echoing back in Jeyme's mind, **"D'hol is a lucky man."** Tears
dampened the pillow beneath her face. She remembered her response,
**"I wish someone would tell him that."** She turned her face into her
pillow, stifling any sniffles or watery breaths that came out.

--

When Jeyme woke the next morning she was momentarily disoriented. She
was lying in the bed with a firm warm body behind her. **Faranth! Did
I actually leave the weyr and seek out N'vanik?** She thought in full blown
panic for a moment until she looked down at the arms that were wrapped
around her midsection. No, no, those definitely belonged to D'hol.
Relief lapped over her like cool water. Had she gotten up and left the
couch last night? Or had he come and taken her to bed?

D'hol didn't wake, but shifted in his sleep with a grunting murmur. His
arms tugged her warmth closer and in his sleep, his hands caressed the
warmth of her abdomen with callused fingers.

Jeyme sighed contentedly. It felt so good to be held by D'hol. In
sleep all traces of the cold exterior he had brandished at her earlier
faded. Maybe he wasn't mad at her anymore? Or maybe a good night's
sleep would erase some of the harshness from the day before.

As was often his habit in his sleep, he stroked her skin, one arm
curling upwards so his hand could cup her breast while he tugged her
firmly against him. It was a possessive, yet often tender gesture, and
he murmured her name in his sleep.

She hummed a soft sound of pleasure, nearly like a feline being
stroked as she sank back against her weyrmate. Why couldn't they be
like this all the time? Or when he was awake, even? Jeyme loved D'hol,
she really did, and she knew that she had really dug low when she'd
thrown the barb about him running down to have N'vanik's "seconds"
but... shard it, she had just been so hurt already by his rough
treatment of her, and then to have the thought that while he'd had her
pressed against a while he'd probably been thinking of Cyradis the
whole time. She clenched her eyes shut to drive away the thoughts.

D'hol must have been having a pleasant dream, because the sleepy rumble
in his chest and the way his hand began to gently massage her skin were
in no way cold or distant. His eyes remained closed, but his head
lowered to brush a soft kiss against Jeyme's neck.

The familiar stirrings of longing came over Jeyme, and she rolled over
in D'hol's arms. She needed the memories of the other night replaced
with something better, something gentle and loving, the way he was
being right then. Hooking a long leg over D'hol's waist, she drew
their hips together as she kissed him.

D'hol's eyes fluttered as he came into semi-consciousness, but the feel
and scent of the soft form of his weyrmate and her responses dominated
his brain. He returned the kiss eagerly and rolled her to her back,
hands stroking and encouraging a further response.

All of the thoughts that had been plaguing her melted away as she
returned D'hol's attention, touch for touch, and kiss for kiss. She
slid her legs around his, her hands sliding across the smooth expanse
of his back. In the darkness all of the troubles that bombarded their
relationship were gone.

He was gentle and tender, even half asleep. He murmured his love for
her as he finished and his sweat sheened brow dropped to rest on her
shoulder as he took deep steady breaths to calm the beats of his heart.

But slowly, as if realization was sinking in, he lifted his head to
stare down at Jeyme. At first there was open love, but it slowly
changed to anger and surprisingly enough, a great deal of hurt in his
gaze. His expression closed off, cooling as he pulled away from her and
climbed off the bed.

Jeyme watched the emotions that crossed D'hol's face as they came down
from their euphoric high. It had been so perfect, but now it was
crumbling away again. "D'hol." She called after him as she sat up, her
voice asking him to stay.

His back was to her and as he reached for a towel to head once again to
the bathing chamber he did pause. His hand clenched and his profile
revealed a twitching jaw. He looked over his shoulder at her and his
voice was soft, distant. "At least I didn't get anyone's leavings this
time. After all, that's what I deserve.... right?" He turned his face
away from her and a walked to the bathing chamber.

It was like a slap in the face, but what made it worse was that she
felt as if she deserved it.

Last updated on the March 4th 2014

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Distant Hearts