8.29.1.25 - No Regrets? (JP Cremsden/Margana)


Nutmeg
 

OoC: Set almost immediately after the events of ‘After A Most Peculiar Night’. Date correction to 8.29.1.25.


Margana woke slightly to feel Cremsden get out of bed, yet there was still a warm body beside her. Turns ago this wouldn’t have been unusual, but now--ah, yes. That’s right. Snuggling a little deeper into the covers, she fell back asleep.


When Dytha got out of bed, she was sad, but didn’t feel that way for long, as now she went into a deeper sleep with no bodies to distract her. This allowed her to gradually awaken to voices murmuring from the other room. By now, the events of the previous night had slowly seeped into her wakening brain, and a warm glow crept through her body. Yes, last night was wonderful, and while Cremsden had been a little hesitant, it seemed that Dytha had thrown herself fully into the experience. But, this was the first time for both of them in this situation. She was happy they were talking--the timbre of their voices didn’t indicate agitation.


She could have gotten up then, but decided that maybe they would prefer to work this out themselves. So, she took advantage of that and dozed until Cremsden came in to wake her.


“Good morning, sweetheart.” And if there wasn’t actually a need to ensure Margana was up and awake and out of bed quickly Cremsden was usually gentle about waking her. He sat down on the bed on her side, looking down at her. “Bad news is it’s time to get up. Good news is the kettle’s hot.”


Margana stretched, and wrapped her arms around Cremsden’s neck, bringing his head down for a quick kiss. “Fantastic. I could go for some...ugh, we still don’t have klah, do we? Well, some tea.”  She scootched up to a sitting position and studied him, looking for signs of discomfort or regret. 


Sure, she didn’t want to make a habit of it. But she had enjoyed watching Dytha become more...animated. And that was a Good Thing to see.  


“So,” she said. “How are the two of you doing?”


“Awake and managing not to blush too much.” Cremsden grinned at her and no, that didn't sound like someone who was on the verge of panic. It wasn't as though the times where he had been mentally chewing on something before had been particularly subtle.


The kiss got her tugged gently onto his lap, clearly still in an affectionate mood even after last night. “Sleep well?”


“Mmmm. Yas,” she said, snuggling into him. “Very well.” She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You surprised me last night. If I didn’t know better, I would think you’d done this before.” Though, he had lived at Fort. but he was a Healer, and probably didn’t get into the things Fortians did.


He laughed quietly. “You didn’t get to see how I just forgot to speak when I woke up to find Dytha wearing my shirt,” he admitted. “Though she probably just stopped me burning the weyr down. I really need to make sure I’m properly awake before I try setting a kettle to boil.” The kiss to her forehead might well have been another to her mouth had he not been aware that she really did have to get to work eventually. His smile had a tease in it though. “Less made of spun glass than I used to be?” No, that comment from the night before hadn’t been forgotten, though he didn’t seem to be taking it too much to heart.


She giggled. “Yes, less made of spun glass.” She studied him a moment. “I know this isn’t the kind of thing you go out looking for. Neither do I, actually. But.” She bit her lip. “How’s Dytha doing? She seemed more--” What was she trying to say?. “More more, if that makes sense. I think she’s been craving something, and found a piece here. I’d like to keep that going.” Shards, now she sounded like a sexual deviant.


“That didn’t come out right. Um...she reminds me of--” a puppy. No, that wasn’t it. Try again. “There are people who just like to have contact with other people. Not necessarily sexual, more of a safety, or assurance, thing. Like, on days we can have a lie in, you and I just like to lay together. I think she’s like that, only more so. She may not even know it.


“Though, I do love our alone-time together.” Like now. She knew she had to go to work, but just laying here with Cremsden felt so nice.


“Would you like that?” Cremsden’s eyebrows raised slightly and his voice was serious. It took knowing him to see the smile twitching around the corners of his mouth, and the look of utter amusement in his eyes. A sense too in that look that if it weren’t for work and Arden and all the responsibilities that came with adulthood he might be very happily tumbling his weyrmate back into the sheets right now.


“..If I didn’t know better, my love, I would wonder if you had carefully left us together just long enough for us to come to that conclusion all on our lonesome.” Laughter in the accusation, no resentment in it at all.


“We-ell,” Margana said, winking. “But I did sleep, too! I swear, the murmuring of your voices was like a lullaby. Made me sleep better.” 


Reluctantly she moved herself away from her weyrmate and got out of bed. Not that it would do anything for Cremsden, since she had a habit of sleeping in the nude. Which she knew she’d need to rethink as Arden got older, but now, with a weyrguest, no matter if said weyrguest had seen more of her than most denizens of the Weyr, it just wasn’t polite.


“I’m glad we did this. And I’m glad it didn’t traumatize you.” Mainly because she was afraid the knowledge of what she knew in the bedroom would make him look at her differently, and not in a good way. 


“Oh, I’m terribly traumatised. Absolutely. My complexion may never turn to a normal colour again.” He was openly laughing at her now, left absurdly cheerful by the night before. He moved  to the wardrobe as though her moving was the signal that they should be getting dressed and more than his dressing gown would be appropriate. “No, really, we spent ten minutes washing up and trying to avoid each other’s eyes before I plucked up the courage to admit that my shirt was..really not covering an awful lot on her. After that, obviously, it was mostly tea and giggling.”


Margana laughed. “Somehow, ‘tea and giggling’ almost sounds naughtier than what went on last night.” She was also a little dismayed she hadn’t seen Dytha in his shirt--maybe tonight, or later this sevenday. They wouldn’t be able to make a nightly thing of this, but she knew that this also wasn’t a one-time thing. It also wasn’t something she’d do with just anyone. Why Dytha? 


{{Why not?}} Zlorenth said from the ledge, where he was curled up with Ponth.


Yes. Why not?


“I like seeing you happy,” she said. She knew it wasn’t because Dytha made him happier. It was just the ambience in the weyr.


“I’m very happy,” Cremsden assured her, picking through shirts until he found one he liked. “You know, I was a bit worried that you’d mind having her to stay, that we’d all end up on top of each other--” it was Cremsden, so that line was delivered entirely without any intended euphemism. “--but we’re doing all right, aren’t we?”


“We are. Quite all right,” Margana said, holding back a giggle. “I--it’s nice having her here. Last night was nice. It was different, and I don’t feel for her what I feel for you, but it’s like, she belongs with us. Hard to explain.” She pulled out her own shirt, noting that her pants were at the other end of the room. Going and picking them up, she donned them and looked at Crem, love shining out of her eyes. “For now, she belongs here. But separate. We still have us. We’ll always have us.”



= End =