Won't You Look At Me?

Writers: Dana, Eimi
Date Posted: 23rd November 2005

Characters: Ailyn, Firon
Description: Firon and Ailyn both have bad days...
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 8, day 23 of Turn 3

Ailyn

Ailyn glared at her husband as he wandered into the bedroom. "Firon. Can you tell me what _this_ is?" She held up the wet towel she had found just _laying_ there, carelessly disregarded, on the bathingroom floor.

"Well hello wife. Yes, it was a hard long day at work," Firon said sarcastically as he buttoned up his shirt.

Her eyes narrowed even more. "Firon. _How_ many sharding times do I have to _tell_ you to hang this _up_?" She shook the towel, and small droplets of water fell onto the rug beneath their feet. Really! Would it never get through to him? She had to remind him _every single time_...

"For Faranth's safe, Ailyn, can't you even wait until I'm _dressed_ before you start in on me?" he gumbled as he pulled his trousers on. "I was going to pick it up."

"No you weren't! You never do. _I'm_ always the one who picks up your sharding clothes and your sharding towel - and if you think you're going to just get away with dropping your shirt on the floor right in front of me, you'd better think twice!" she growled, pointing to the tunic that hung precariously from his fingertips.

"_Fine_," he growled as he threw it on the bed. "And I _was_ going to have it picked up before you got home! And was I going to say one word about the fact that I came home and not only my wife was missing, but there was no supper for me either? No! But you just can't wait to jump all over _my_ back when you've had a bad day."

"Oh, so you want your _dinner_ now, do you? Fine then! I'll just go to the sharding kitchen and cook your sharding food to curb your sharding appetite!" Ailyn flung the towel in his general direction and it landed in a heap by his feet. She turned on her heel and stalked from their room to the kitchen, where soon the harsh sounds of metal and wood clanging against stone could be heard.

He stormed out of their room, boots in hand. "Don't put yourself out on my account. I can go down to the kitches easily enough. At least I know _there_ there will be food waiting for me when I come!" Firon slammed his body down on the sofa and began yanking on his socks.

"Fine! Get out then!" she yelled, slamming the wooden spoon on the counter so hard it cracked. Then she came at him. "You know, I always thought you were different than most of the sharding men who call themselves husbands out there! But no. You're like the rest: always wanting the woman to have her domestic duties done for the sharding day right when they get in the sharding door!"

"I came and had time for a long soak in the pool, and you _still_ weren't home!" he shouted as he pulled on his boot. "No note. No snack. Nothing to say where you had gone or when you'd be back! Shards, Ailyn! Just how hard is it to leave a note that says 'If your hungry go to the kitchens', huh! Were your domestic duties so sharding pressing that you couldn't even leave me a loaf of _bread_ to nibble on?!"

"Oh you sharding arse!" She came around to plant herself in front of him, her hands jammed on her hips, her eyes fierce as she glared down at him and his sharding boots. "As a matter of fact, Firon, _yes_, the 'domestic' duties were pressing! Not that you sharding care, though! You're more concerned about your sharding belly than what reasons your wife had for being out so sharding _late_!" Her voice cracked then, and she bit her lower lip. Hard.

Damn it. She hadn't wanted to say anything! She looked away quickly before he could see her expression and moved back towards the kitchen. "Just go get your sharding supper, Firon."

"All right, fine!" he yelled as he stood up and threw his arms open in frustration. "Fine, tell me what deeply important things you were doing while I was dealing with surly old masters, and walking bottles back and forth between the Hall and the Hold, or bent over hide work for four sharding candlemarks. Come on, Ailyn. Give me your sharding good reason."

"I was at the sharding Infirmary!" Damn.

"Well, what happened? Did you burn yourself on the stove making my dinner? Is that why you're so sharding mad at me and my dinner?"

Tears welled in her eyes suddenly, and, frustrated, she blinked them back.
Her back was to him as she braced her hands on the counter, her nails digging into the grooves. "I thought I was pregnant with _your_ child. Turns out I was wrong."

Firon stood staring at her back for a good minute, his anger seeping out of him as quickly as it had arisen. **Shards, I _am_ an ass...** He sighed and walked to her, laying his hands on her shoulder. "It will come, Ailyn."

At his touch, she felt something inside her stiffen, but felt another part of her ease. She was silent for a long moment, neither relaxing back into his touch nor pushing him away. "I've...been so careful, Firon. I know we want to wait til after you get your masters knots. But when I thought that there was a chance..." She shook her head, unable to continue.

"Just because it didn't happen this time, Ailyn, it doesn't mean it won't happen," he said quietly, understanding her disappointment.

A silence enveloped them before she brushed her cheek against the back of his hand and whispered, "I'm sorry I got cross with you."

"I'm sorry I left that stupid towel on the floor," he whispered, feeling even more like an ass than ever. "Won't you look at me, Ailyn?"

Slowly she turned around and lifted her eyes to his.

He took her face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. "I love you, Ailyn. I love you so much."

Her hands went to his wrists, lightly holding them, her fingers caressing.
"I love you too," Ailyn murmured softly before turning her head so her lips could brush against his palm.

He kissed her softly and pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her as both apology and comfort.

She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his familiar, clean scent before finally breaking the easy quiet. "It's stupid, the way we fight sometimes. I know I say this everytime, Firon...but let's not do it again." A small smile curved her lips as she tilted her face up to his.

"I hate fighting with you, Ailyn," he whispered as he wipe a stray tear away. "I'll tell you what. I'll go down to the kitchen and I'll get us _both_ some dinner and we can curl up in front of the fire."

"Okay, love," she murmured softly, brushing her cheek against his chest.

"Okay." He pulled back and kissed her softly once more before heading for the door to fetch their evening meal.

Last updated on the November 23rd 2005

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Won't You Look At Me?