Tensions Eased

Writers: Heather, Miriah
Date Posted: 15th January 2016

Characters: Jeyme, D'hol
Description: Jeyme and D'hol calm each other
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 3, day 10 of Turn 8
Notes: Note: Occurs after "Tensions Bite"
Mentioned; N'vanik, K'deren, Cyradis, Kielya

Jeyme

D'hol

Jeyme hummed as she worked tidying the weyr, picking up dirty clothes,
and draping them over her arm as she went. For the moment she was
actually grateful that Dheymin was with his foster mother so that she
had a chance to clean up in peace.

Tossing the clothes in the hamper, she turned and straightened the
blanket that hung over the back of the sofa, and then snatched up her
knitting supplies and tossed them in the basket under the end-table.

**Maybe I can wear something fun for D'hol tonight.** The thought
occurred to her as she looked up at the wardrobe, picturing the lacy
things that she had tucked away in one of her drawers. She wanted them
to get back on even footing again, which they had not been on since
N'vanik's visit to their weyr.

Coming in, D'hol closed the door behind him much harder than
necessary. His face was taut and his eyes hard as he kicked off his
boots, immediately going to the wardrobe for a change of comfortable
clothes. He said nothing of the tidier weyr, his focus solely on
changing his clothes.

Jeyme flinched at the unexpected slamming of the door. "Bad day?" she
asked as she leaned against the couch and crossed her arms over her
chest. **When isn't it a bad day anymore?**

He nearly ripped of his shirt, wadding it up and throwing it into the
hamper. His entire body was tense and his normally neat hair was
mussed. "Yes."

There was a moment's hesitation before she drew closer to him, "Do you
want to talk about it?"

His hands were on the buckle of his trousers, his movements jerky as
he remembered the argument between he and N'vanik. "No." His voice was
sharp, furious. "I do not."

Well that was plain enough. There was no missing the anger behind his
tone, only she wasn't quite sure what that anger was directed towards.
Not that it mattered, no matter who D'hol was angry at she was the one
who took the brunt of his bad mood at home. "Can I do anything?"

D'hol's hand gripped his belt and then slowly lifted his eyes to hers.
"Yes, but nothing you'll actually do."

Jeyme's eyebrows lifted. What was that suppose to mean?

"Excuse me?"

He stripped the belt and snorted. "Nothing." He tossed the belt to the
side and turned away, running his hand over his face, tension in his
shoulders.

Jeyme crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I'd like to know what your
sarcastic comment was suppose to mean."

He was silent for a moment, tension building and muscles tightening
before he bit out his next words. "I'm sure you would."

"So are you going to tell me? Or are you going to act like a pouty
child?" she said between gritted teeth.

He turned back to her sharply, his eyes angered. "What?"

"You heard me! You've been sulking around this place ever since
Panitath's flight acting like a sullen brat!" There, she'd said it.

His eyes immediately flared hotter and he turned to face her
completely taking a step closer. "Sullen brat?" His voice was almost a
growl. "I have not been bloody well sulking."

She waved a hand in his general direction. "Then what do you call this?"

"Being pissed the bloody fecking blazes off, that's what!" His
shoulders were tight. "You want to know what you can do? Keep N'vanik
away from our son and away from you. That's what! But you won't, now
will you? Because it's your bloody fecking choice and all the while
he's putting his hands on you, complaining that you deserve fecking
better and hopes you'll find someone else. Like him!" He tilted head,
his face flushed as his fists clenched. "Is that what he's been
telling you?"

Jeyme blinked. Was he... Jealous? "What does it matter what N'vanik
thinks or says?"

"It matters to you, now doesn't it?"

"Not particularly, it matters to me more to be empathetic to someone
in a tough situation. How would you feel if K'deren was antagonistic
of you seeing Kieyla? And don't tell me you have never been alone with
Cyradis and your daughter, because that would be a lie. How is it any
different than what N'vanik is doing?" Jeyme demanded.

D'hol's eyes glittered angrily. "I don't go and see them in their
weyr. I see Kielya elsewhere." But that wasn't the point, and he
didn't like the comparison at all; it hit a little too close to home.

"Don't expect me to believe that you have _never_ been in Cyradis's
weyr with just her and Kieyla." It bothered Jeyme that D'hol was being
so hypocritical. "I don't complain about you going, nor do I throw
tantrums or pout when you do. I would like the same treatment in
return."

He couldn't deny it and his expression showed it. Instead, his teeth
gritted out his answer. "Fine."

Jeyme came close enough to him to run her fingers down the front of
his shirt. "I love you, D'hol."

He was still stiff with anger when she approached and his breathing
was harsh as he tried to keep his temper under control. His hands
caught hers and pressed them against his chest tightly, then glanced
down at them before looking back at her face. "Do you?"

"Who else has stood by your side like I have? Defended you to others?"
She looked up into his eyes. "From the moment I've met you I've bent
over backwards to try and please you for fear that you might leave. I
am not going to do that any more. I love you, you can choose whether
to believe me or not, I've done nothing to break your trust."

That made him pause and for a long time he just looked at her, saying
nothing. She was right, in many respects and he was forced to admit
it, at least to himself. His hands released hers, then quickly wound
in her hair, pulling her to him as he bent to press his mouth to hers.
"Mine." He didn't stop there, instead, he reached to pick her up,
hands cupping her bottom to lift her to him. It wasn't a gentle kiss,
but it was a possessive, hungry thing that deepened almost
immediately.

Her body responded immediately, hot desire spiking through the pit of
her stomach, arms wrapping around his neck and legs twining about his
waist.

D'hol blindly made his way to the bed, laying her down and almost
immediately began scrabbling at her clothes. If a few ripped, he
didn't notice, so intent on having her and making sure that she was
his that he wasn't paying attention.

Fingers that once gently slid down the front of his shirt now tore at
the buttons in a fervor and passion that matched his own. As much as
she wanted to be claimed by him she also wanted to stake her own hold
on the bronze rider.

******

D'hol fell back on to his side, breathing hard in an attempt to catch
his breath. He tugged Jeyme to his side, pillowing her head on his
shoulder as a deep, rumbling sigh issued from his chest. His back
stung and there was probably a bite mark or two on his shoulder, but
the minor hurts weren't as important. Instead, a smug, satisfied smile
made his lips lift.

There was a reason why make-up sex received such high praise. Cuddling
into his side, Jeyme's chest rose against him as she panted to catch
her breath. The muscles in her thighs still trembled from use, but it
was the most satisfying feeling at that moment. It felt as if the dark
cloud between them had dispersed finally.

His hand stroked her back as he reclined on the pillows and for a
while, he said nothing, just soaking in the after effects of sharing
the furs with her. Finally he murmured, "I love you too, you
irritating female."

Last updated on the January 20th 2016

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Tensions Eased