Western Weyr - Rhysanna's Weyr
This is one of the more extravagant weyrs at Western, fit for a gold and her rider as they preside over the weyr. The stone has been smoothly cut and polished to a shine in places. The wallow is extra large size, big enough for two queens, with a smooth rounded lip to separate it from the rest of the stone. In it are several thick, rich blankets of regal blue and purple. The perfect sitting and sleeping room for a queen.
The living area of the weyr opens up into a large open-floor type of space. The front part is a living area covered in a plush green carpet. An L-shaped couch corners the area, with a love seat on one side and a pair of arm chairs on the other. All are made of soft leather. In the center is square klah table with a glass center. Shelves have been carved into the walls, and a closet is built into one side near the entrance. Behind the sitting area is an eating area. It's got a nicely carved table and four padded chairs at it. The kitchen area is against the back wall. Wood cabinets that have been lightly stained and stone countertops make up most of it, with essential appliances like a refrigerator, stove and klah maker. There is a small washroom off in the back corner on the right.
Off the wings of the main area are two bedrooms. The right bedroom is smaller, meant for a guest room or an office. In it is a desk and a day bed, and a couple of bookshelves. The master bedroom is off to the left. It's been fully furnished with a full armoire, a vanity with a stool and mirror, a dresser, a king size canopy bed with two nightstands on either side, a trunk for the foot of the bed and even a small desk and chair in one corner. All the furniture looks to be new. The master bedroom has a full bath, including a tub and stall shower connected to Western's hot springs and a full vanity with two sinks.
It may have been her own decision, but watching Zi'on go, that first afternoon, is hard. In retrospect, the kisses were probably a bad idea.
In retrospect, the whole thing may have been a bad idea.
It's important, though. She's promised her dragon this, though she's never had any intention of it being otherwise. This is their new home, this set of stone caverns, and she wants to make it theirs before they share it with anyone else. She can feel Tavehtiath's satisfaction; it pulses inside her, pale and white and perfect, somehow warm despite the chill of it. She's glad for her queen's sake that they can move out of the barracks, now— she's glad for her own, too, though she suspects she will take longer to get used to it than Tavehtiath will.
Tavehtiath likes the quiet of it; she likes having a place that is hers, a place where no one else may be unless she deigns to allow them. Rhysa suspects her dragon would be happier, in a way, if their weyr were further from everything - remote and isolated. But only in a way: this is, after all, a weyr fit for a queen, and that is precisely what Tavehtiath is.
Rhysa, though… she feels small and insignificant as she wanders through the weyr, her feet bare upon the cool stone, the soft green carpet. She's never spent so much as a single night in a room without someone else. As a little girl, she shared a room with her mother; later, she moved into the dorms, sharing a room with a number of other girls, and from there to the candidate dorms, and then the weyrling barracks.
Still, she's determined. For the first time in her life, she has space of her own, and she's just going to have to get used to it. She moves her things in from the barracks, such as they are. She takes a bath (this, certainly, is one luxury she is delighted to have). Later, she takes her diary and sits out on the ledge, alongside Tavehtiath. We could both sleep out here tonight, she suggests to the queen.
« Don't be ridiculous about this, Rhysanna. You have a perfectly good bed to sleep in, and I have a perfectly good wallow. You are the rider of a Western queen. » In Tavehtiath's mind, that says it all, really.
Rhysa, however, is still less certain.
She can see Suldith's ledge, from here. Part of her is tempted to give up on this, and go there, instead. Out into the corridor, down a few doors… She doesn't need Tavehtiath to tell her that that is a bad idea, though; she knows it is. It would be easy… and it would solve nothing.
The sun sets. In time, Tavehtiath moves indoors, ready to curl up and sleep for the tonight. Rhysanna stays outside for a few minutes more, but it's dark, and it's not like she's managing to write in her diary anyway. Inside, though, everything is quiet.
Rhysa can't even remember the last time she was in a room on her own for any amount of time, before today. And now… all of this is hers, and she's expected to occupy it and… and what? She runs her fingers off one surface after another, trying to feel some kind of connection to it.
You just need to make it yours, she tells herself. Personalize it.
But that's easier said than done.
She climbs into bed. She sprawls. She curls up. There's so much space it's almost ridiculous. So much space, and so little Rhysa.
She thinks again of Zi'on's bed; of crawling in beside the bronzerider and curling up against him. He said…
But that's not the point, she reminds herself. Not the point and not allowed.
Finally, she grabs up a pillow, and crawls in next to Tavehtiath. The queen has been sleeping, and is still sleeping - more or less - but Rhysa can feel the sigh in her thoughts, the silent 'Oh, Rhysanna.' But she doesn't send Rhysa away.
Rhysa sleeps.
Give it time.