The Measure of an Apology

Writers: Heather, Miriah
Date Posted: 11th March 2014

Characters: D'hol, Jeyme
Description: Jeyme tells D'hol she's pregnant.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 6, day 24 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Cyradis, N'vanik

D'hol

Jeyme

Even after talking to Cyradis it had taken Jeyme a full day to work up
her courage to talk to D'hol about the pregnancy. As had become a
habit ever since Panitath's flight, Jeyme went to sleep each night on
the couch, and woke up each morning in the bed. Courtesy of a cold,
but caring weyrmate who moved her each night. When she sat up she
found D'hol coming out of the bathing pool.

"D'hol, can we talk?" She said, her voice still a soft murmur from
her sleep. Her eyes looked at the smooth planes of his back as he took
clothes from the wardrobe.

The bath had helped his aching back. The couch did little to help him
sleep, nor was it overly comfortable. He doubted that he had had a
full night's sleep in a sevenday. And he hated sleeping on the damned
thing, but every time he looked at Jeyme, the anger and hurt of her harsh
words came crashing back. He couldn't help but think that when she had
returned from her flight, he had been supportive. He hadn't liked the
fact that he had lost to his main rival, but had kept her best
interests in mind. But when he had needed her support the most, when
he had needed the understanding and comfort of his weyrmate, she had
been so involved in her own jealousy that she had flung vicious
daggers at an already open wound.

So when her voice came, soft and sleepy, he stiffened and turned away.
He wasn't ready to talk to her. Not yet. He shoved his pants on over
his legs and pulled his tunic over his head before pulling on his
boots.

Jeyme knew that was a solid 'no' and she turned her face to hide her
trembling lips and the fresh wash of hot tears that pressed against
her eyes. Her courage dashed, the greenrider crawled from the bed,
blindly grabbed out some clothes and retreated to the bathing pool.

As she disappeared, D'hol sighed softly and sat, rubbing his hand
through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

She had held her breath until the door of the bathing pool was shut,
because she knew that once she exhaled the tears would come. Shards
but she hoped some of this weepiness was due to the pregnancy. It just
wasn't like her and she hated the vulnerable way it made her feel.
Knowing that she could do little to stop them, she let the tears flow
freely as she lowered herself down into the hot water and rubbed her
hands over her face.

The water of the bathing chamber only served to echo her soft cries
into the other room. His jaw tightened at the sound and he gave a
muttered curse as he rose. He could not stand to hear that sound, even
as angry as he was. He opened the bathing chamber door. "Jeyme, We
c..." His brow furrowed as a call from Yumath sounded. Apparently
there was a problem with a recently transferred greenrider in his wing
that needed his immediate attention. He pinched the bridge of his nose
again and his words were clipped. "We can speak this evening. I have
to go."

"Okay." The word came out in a mixture of surprise and confusion as
she watched him go. She hadn't expected him to follow her into the
bathing pool, he had made sure to give her a wide berth and plenty of
privacy for the past few days. For a moment she had thought that he
was going to say they could talk then, but she knew he probably had
Wing business to take care of, he was a busy man, after all.

With D'hol gone Jeyme took her time in the bathing pool, her brain
swirling with thoughts. By the time she was dried off and fully
clothed she had come to the conclusion that she was going to have to
leave her weyrmate a note. She wanted to tell D'hol face-to-face, but
she was afraid that by the time evening came she would be a coward and
not tell him. Deciding that the note would force the issue to the
surface, she pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote a three letter
note:

"I'm pregnant. ~Jeyme"

Laying the note on his pillow, Jeyme stared at it for a long moment
before turning and leaving. She had wing drills with her new Wing.

-----

The emergency in the morning had turned out to be little more than a
worried greenrider over a chipped talon. D'hol had bawled the rider
out, perhaps more harshly than deserved and had continued on his day
with cold, hard efficiency.

By the time he got back to their weyr, he was tense and tired. Jeyme
wasn't there yet, so he yanked off his boots, threw them under the
table and then noticed the note. Frowning, he picked it up and read it.
His eyes widened. Pregnant? His brows snapped down as something came to
him at once. If she was pregnant, there could be three possible
fathers; he knew her cycles as well as she did. His hand crinkled the
paper.

Jeyme was so tired by the time she finally came home. It had been hard
to keep her mind focused on drills when all she could imagine was the
look on D'hol's face when he found the note. The cold shoulder he'd
been giving her had been horrible, and she wondered if it would only
intensify once he found out that she might be carrying N'vanik's baby.
A part of her hoped that she would beat D'hol back to the weyr so she
could throw the letter away and maybe work up her courage to tell him
some other time.

She pushed open the door to the weyr and stepped inside cautiously.

He was sitting on the couch as she came in, the note still crinkled in
his hand. Leaning back against the couch, he spun one of her knitting
needles in the fingers of his other hand. As the door opened, he looked
up and the needle stopped its twirling. His voice was quiet. "How far
along?"

Beyond closing the door she didn't move further into the weyr, "A few
sevendays," her voice was soft, "the healer confirmed it yesterday."

His lips pursed and he replied, his voice remaining mild. "So, me,
N'vanik or S'avn." He didn't rise from the couch, but the needle began
flipping back and forth in his fingers again. "Do they already know?"

Jeyme stared at D'hol for a long moment, "You really think the night I
left here I ran to S'avn's weyr and hopped into his bed with him?" Why
would he even think the bluerider was a possibility as the baby's
father?

He finally turned to look at her, his face carefully neutral. "That's
what you suspected of me, did you not? You were wearing his clothes and
you certainly didn't deny sleeping in his bed." He shook his head and
looked back at the needle. "I don't blame you for it, and didn't then.
And N'vanik couldn't be helped. It was a flight. It happens. But you
didn't answer my question. Do they already know?"

She wouldn't answer his main question until she was finished with the
S'avn topic, "D'hol, I didn't think I had anything to deny. I wore his
clothes because all of mine were back here. He slept on the couch
_every_ night I was there. As crazy jealous as I am over you, do you
really think I'd sleep with the first person I saw?"

She sighed, still standing by the door, her arms crossed over her
chest now, "I'm sure you don't believe me, but whatever, I didn't have
sex with S'avn. If you want to think it, fine. The answer to your
other question is no, N'vanik does not know, you are my weyrmate so of
course I would tell you before him." Jeyme decided to omit the part where
she had talked to Cyradis.

He looked at the needle rapidly flipping in his fingers as he listened
to her, then how eyes drew back to her, studying her expression. "You
didn't think you had anything to deny. " He tilted his head to the
side. "And yet, you were so upset when I went to talk to Cyradis, that
I had to soothe you and reassure you that nothing had happened." He
waved his hand, brushing it aside. "No matter."

He took a deep breath and put the knitting needle down. "Do you want
this child?"

"Me and S'avn don't have a past, either." She muttered under her
breath and then immediately wished she could take it back. Cyradis had told her
that responding to D'hol with anger never worked out well. Jeyme loved
D'hol insanely, and yet he got under her skin faster than anyone she
knew.

Jeyme leaned back against the door, "What kind of question is that?
Didn't I want the last one?"

He heard her and his eyes narrowed as he rose to his feet. "That is
enough. I gave you my word that nothing would happen between Cyradis
and I. That I would choose you. I have a past with her, yes. I have
feelings for her which I have never denied and I have always been open
and honest about. She has a weyrmate. I have a weyrmate. It is over.
Done."

His teeth gritted. "I am very aware that you wanted the last one. I was
there. But I alone was the father. Now answer the damned question! Do
you want it?"

She flinched when he stood, her eyes sliding shut to block out his
image. Shards, did he know how intimidating he was? Or how hard this
had been?

"Yes." She gritted back.

He immediately relaxed, and took a deep breath. Running a hand over his
face he moved to the table and poured two cups of water. Taking one, he
brought it to her pressing it into her hands. His voice was softer,
restrained. "Alright then. Sit down...please." He took a drink of his
water, walked back to the table and leaned against it. "If you want the
child, then I'll claim it. Fully."

Her eyes flew open when the cup of water was pressed into her hands.
She didn't think she could drink it past the knot in her throat but
she took a sip anyway, "Even if it's N'vanik's?" Jeyme crossed behind
the couch and pulled out a chair at the table, which she sank into
gratefully- her knees felt weak as water.

His eyes narrowed. "If I claim the child, it is mine. I will be the
father. I don't care who might put that child in your belly, N'vanik or
myself. But by the First Egg, I will not share our child. "

Jeyme felt like she was on cracking ice. She didn't know which way to
turn without falling into trouble, "So... You don't want me to tell
N'vanik that... that it might be his?" Or was she suppose to tell
N'vanik that he might have gotten her pregnant but that D'hol had
claimed the child? Maybe D'hol didn't want her to tell N'vanik
anything at all, but that felt inherently wrong to the holdbred
greenrider.

His lip pursed as he looked at Jeyme, tapping his fingers against his
glass. "Tell him what you like. But..." He put his glass down and
leveled an even stare at her. "N'vanik will have no part in this child,
Jeyme. This is ours. Yours and mine. I do not want him included."

She blinked back at him for a second, "Okay," she said slowly, "so if
N'vanik insists.... You'll talk to him at that point?" Jeyme would tell N'vanik
up front the situation, but if the Weyrleader chose to try and be
apart of the baby's life anyway... What could she do? It felt a little
unfair, she admitted. A part of Jeyme wanted to bring up how D'hol had
felt when he'd learned that Keiyla was his, but at this point, she was
just glad to have him talking to her, so she wisely remained silent on
that issue.

He nodded shortly. "But if he brings it up to you, I want you to back
my decision, Jeyme. I don't care if he knows. Tell him anything your
conscience demands. But for once, Jeyme, I want your support. If I
can't get it anywhere else, I want it on this."

Her jaw tightened a bit. For once he wanted her support? So just
because she didn't support his efforts to get into Cyradis's bed she
didn't support him? Jeyme's ire rose hot in her veins, but only showed
in the thinning of her lips as she pursed them together. Sometimes you
had to pick and choose your battles, and Jeyme was trying to learn how
to pick the right ones.

"Fine." She agreed. It's not as if she didn't _want_ D'hol to act like
the baby's father, she did, and she sincerely hoped that it was his.
When she had been building up her courage to tell D'hol she was
pregnant she had never guessed that he would be so... Possessive over
it. He'd told her before that he expected her to be a greenrider, he
knew she would have other men, as long as she came home to him at
night. The need to have ownership of the baby, therefore, surprised her a bit.

He nodded at her agreement and put his glass down. He ran a hand
through his hair, stretched and winced at the pull on his back. He
settled back in his leaning position and rolled his head from side to
side to relieve the tension. " When do you see the healers next?"

"Not for another fortnight." Jeyme was being seen again so soon
because of her previous miscarriage. She had carried that baby for
such a short time that the healers wanted to keep a close eye on her.
Which inevitably meant that she would have to take it very easy. She
relaxed a little in her chair, glad that some of the tension was gone.

He nodded and pushed himself away from the table. "Then you'll need to
inform Cyradis as soon as possible to let her be aware of the
situation. She'll be careful about you not betweening."

D'hol walked to the wardrobe and began digging through it.

"Yeah, she knows." Jeyme said before taking a drink of her water.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her. One brow
arched. His voice was smooth. "So much for telling your weyrmate
first." He shrugged. "At least she knows then." He pulled out his
pants. "Gave you advice?"

"I just said I told you before N'vanik." Jeyme pointed out, "And yes,
she did. I didn't know what to do. She helped." At least she had given
Jeyme the courage to tell D'hol, and the advice she had given had been
sound as well, even if Jeyme had a hard time following it.

"She does manage to do that." He turned back to the wardrobe and pulled
out another set of light trousers. He was noncommittal otherwise and
walked quietly to the bathing chamber.

"D'hol, wait." Jeyme left the table and walked after him. She had
thought a lot about the apology that she knew she needed to make.
Surprisingly Jeyme found that her pride might be as large as D'hol's,
and the words didn't come easy, "I'm sorry about what I said. It
wasn't fair and you didn't deserve it."

He stopped and turned to face her, his expression neutral. His brows
quirked upwards. "No, I didn't. " He looked at her for a long moment
and when he spoke, his voice was soft. "You hurt me. Maybe not
physically, like my mistake with you. You didn't leave bruises that can
be kissed away. I needed you, Jeyme. And not because of Cyradis. If it
was just because of her, I would have gone to a moth. I wanted my
weyrmate." His lips thinned slightly. "He got you and then stole the
Weyrleader knots too. My pride was wounded and you stuck your knife
into it. Tell me how a simple apology is supposed to make me feel
better."

Another fresh wave of tears sparkled in her eyes but she kept them
from spilling down her cheeks at least, "I don't know," her voice was
a whisper as she held out her hands, "an apology is all I've got." She hung her
head for a moment, studying the pattern of the rug beneath her feet,
"I would do anything to make you feel better."

He watched her, seeing the unshed tears and looked down at her offered
hands. His jaw worked from side to side. "No, you can be my weyrmate,
Jeyme. We're supposed to be partners. I've given when you have asked of
me and been there when you needed me. I think I deserve the same
consideration."

Jeyme withdrew her hands and wrapped her arms around her midsection
instead, "I know, I'm trying. I'll do better, I promise."

He sighed and shook his head, dropping his clothes in order to cup her
cheeks in his hands. "Stop, Jeyme." He brushed her cheeks with his
thumbs. "I love you. I'm not happy with you right now, but I do love
you. Just remember that I do have feelings too, okay?"

"I know." She said again, losing her battle with the unshed tears as
she buried her face into the front of D'hol's shoulder.

He sighed and finally enfolded her into his embrace, one arm around her
back and the other hand stroking her hair. D'hol kissed the top of her
head gently and let her cry against his shoulder.

Last updated on the March 13th 2014

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The Measure of an Apology