Day 4 | Night | Pillow Talk

[Laila Bridger]

Laila had ended up getting the room- Hadrian had a lot of stuff to arrange that she neither understood nor needed to be seen understanding, and anyway... she knew what was wanted here.

It was a quiet, out of the way place catering to travelers from elsewhere on Caladan, and the room honestly had a very nice view of the sea. It also had nobody in adjoining rooms to complain about noise.

So she'd drawn the curtains and been waiting for him when he'd shown up.

They'd done their best to make up for lost time, needless to say. True, they had a big day tomorrow, but... having seen how easily they might lose each other in the course of some random happenstance, tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

Now Laila lay nestled up to Hadrian, wishing that they could just stay like this, but knowing that the universe wasn't ever going to be that kind.

[Hadrian Martikova]

"It's not fair." He griped, moving to sit up. "I can't sleep."

As he moved he left her space to continue snuggling. All the while tracing small circles on her skin absently.

"This is the happiest, most comfortable I've felt in... years. Never mind the jungle expedition. And I..." His voice trailed off. He wasn't even sure if she was still awake. The sweet-nothing phase of aftercare had ended some time ago.

[Laila Bridger]

"Yeah?"

Wide awake, not a sleepy murmur.
She propped herself up on one elbow, fixing her blue-green gaze on his face, her expression a curious blend of contented and serious.

"Thought it was just me. It's... you're not my first tumble, so I know it's not just afterglow. Might not have the spontaneity of making out at the festival or the storybook feel we had by the waterfall, but..."

Laila's eyes closed and she smiled, looking very much her age- not even into her mid-20s.

"Sorry. You were saying?"

[Hadrian Martikova]

A contented sigh.

"I want to sleep, wake up and go again, get some room service, go three more times before lunch. And not be bothered with responsibilities until I've been off my feet for a solid twelve hours." A soft groan. "It's not fair."

He moved a hand to caress her cheek, "But you're right, I should be grateful for the time we've got."

[Laila Bridger]

"Only twelve hours? Tsk."

She snuggled in closer and giggled.

"Workaholic."

She let that linger for a bit.

"I don't want to sleep, because that means tomorrow gets here faster. So."

She propped herself up again.

"Bern said to torture you about that time you wanted to be a beekeeper when you were twelve. Didn't tell me the story, but..."

[Hadrian Martikova]

"Did he...? I'm going to punch him."

He shook his head in irritation, as a smirk formed.

"I'm afraid that's need to know Bridger. Highly confidential. Strictest of confidence for all parties."

[Laila Bridger]

"Well. In the spirit of openness..."

She stretched and wrapped a leg around his midsection.

"... pretty sure that's the reaction he's going for. But I suppose I'll just have to speculate. Endlessly. Let my imagination run wild."

She paused.

"But I could tell you one of mine. It's... I've got nobody else left to tell on me about the dumb stuff I did when I was younger. But you should probably know just what you're getting into."

[Hadrian Martikova]

He smiled, sensually tracing his hand along her silhouette. "Fine, in the interest of keeping the exchange even... I guess I can tell you. It's just a really old, and really dumb rivalry."

There's an eye roll before he starts.

"So when I was a kid I was sweet on the neighbor girl. I think she was a year older than me? Maybe two years?" A shrug. "Anyways, the neighbors were beekeepers. They leased out their hives all over the place, made good money from the different farms. I made up the excuse that I wanted to learn the trade so I could go and spend time with her. This was fine for a couple of days, no bee stings. Then all it took was one." He gestured with his free hand. "Poof, blew up like a balloon. Allergic reaction, panic, no longer allowed to 'play' around the beehives, and I was way too embarrassed to see her again anyways."

He smirked, "Then Bern and her began dating a year later, bastard."

[Laila Bridger]

"Well. Clearly, I'm on the side of Bern and the bees on this one... I mean, what if things had worked out between you and this bee-keeping girl? I can't have that!"

Her tone was grimly sober. The way she nuzzled at his throat a bit less-so.

"I suppose if we're talking about bygone crushes, I need to talk about Laundry Day."

She sighed.

"So, believe it or not, I wasn't always this refined and ladylike. So I'm fifteen or so, and there's going to be a dance. No festival or anything, just a bunch of the local families having a shindig. It was pretty common on Elacca- someone mentions it's gonna be a nice weekend and someone else mentions they have some berries for making a pie, and... you get the idea."

A pause.

"And of course, I hear that Gunnar Sutter is gonna be there. And fifteen year old Laila, she thinks Gunnar's the one. The guy. He was about a year older than me, had this wispy blonde beard we all thought was dashing. And, this is where laundry enters into it, he really seems to like the color blue."

She propped herself up to look into Hadrian's face with the solemnity of a judge.

"I own nothing blue. But that's okay, I have a plan. See, I have this white dress- and it's stayed white because I never wear the damn thing. Anyhow. I just need some blue dye, and I'm sure to catch Gunnar's discerning eye. So I enlist my sister Ianya- she's twelve at the time, and she can shimmy into the shed a lot easier than I can. 'Cause I know Dad uses this blue dye for marking trees..."

She paused to kiss him for a moment.

"So Ianya gets me this stuff, and it's a powder, and that's fine. I just mix it in with the soap when I wash this dress. And it looks great- dark, vibrant blue, really striking. This it, I'm gonna snag Gunnar at the dance, it's all coming up Laila."

She rolled her eyes.

"So this dye? Yeah, uh... I'm actually at the dance before I notice. It's... slowly eating away at the fabric. Turns out this dye, to help it stick on trees in the fog? It's mildly corrosive to plant fibers."

Beat.

"Like cotton. So. I don't know these details. I just know that all of a sudden it's getting awfully drafty at this dance..."

[Hadrian Martikova]

"Heh, there was never any chance of that. Beekeeper girl, or Porschia rather, was a bit of a.... well, bullet dodged to say the least."

He laughs, then listens. After the kiss he continues to listen. Then another laugh for good measure.

"And... how bad did it get?"

[Laila Bridger]

"I realize that something's wrong, that this damn dress is starting to get about as durable as cobweb- I can feel the seam on the left sleeve letting go when I reach out for a mug of cider. I'm still trying to play it calm, looking for a dignified way out..."

She shook her head.

"Damn sleeve just falls off while I'm trying to sort of ease toward the door. And at that point, I'm doing the math. The other sleeve, the sides of the bodice, the back of the damn skirt, the way the skirt attaches, it's all starting to let go."

She rested her chin on her hand, blushing but not looking away from him.

"So I run like hell. I tear across the dance floor right as the musicians are finishing their warm-ups, I bolt right past where Gunnar- who hadn't even looked at me because goddamn Theresa Boone has shown up in this green silk number with fogwood accessories- is standing. I made it out the door, my skirt didn't."

She shook her head, still a brilliant crimson.

"Ran all the way home in my skivvies and my good shoes. Luckily, almost everybody was at the dance, so the only one to see the whole picture was Gus Travis, who, uh, was enough of a gentleman to bring the gauzy scraps I left in my trail over to the house the next day."

[Hadrian Martikova]

"Uh huh, gentleman, riiiight... somehow, I feel as if we're still not done with this tale."

[Laila Bridger]

"I was in hiding. Contemplating changing my name and joining the Spacing Guild, never coming back, you know, the usual stuff. So Gus- who's a year younger than I am, and a little... slow- not stupid, you know, just... slow. Anyhow. Mom answers the door- and let me tell you, having both of my parents visibly biting back laughter at my social disaster was not helpful. So Mom answers the door while I lurk just upstairs, listening in. And Gus goes, 'I think this is Laila's dress, thought she might want it back.' And Mom goes, 'I think you should just keep it.'"

Laila took a deep breath.

"And Gus goes, 'oh no Mrs Bridger, blue's not my color.'"

A pause.

"You ever hear one of your parents laughing so hard they can't stand? 'Cause I have."

[Hadrian Martikova]

"Hahahha," he cupped his mouth and laughed quietly for a moment. Then once he'd recovered, "Alright, alright, your story is actually kinda cute."

A soft caress followed by a kiss.

"God... I'm trying to remember a story from my childhood. The embarrassing ones are the hardest to recall since, ya know, you've blanked them out."

Nuzzle, nuzzle, peck.

"Hmmm, truth is all I can remember is fencing and competing with Bern, babysitting my younger siblings as I got older. And for a little while in between being King delinquent in the area." He absently shifted his weight to a more comfortable position. "So how did you go from this adorable, jealous teenager, to a soldier?"

[Laila Bridger]

"King delinquent, huh? Sounds like a story there..."

She nestled her head back against his shoulder.

"So. As for how the girl who wanted Gunnar Sutter so bad she dabbled in questionable chemistry ended up killing people on Grumman... it's all down to some noble-born asshole and his no-doubt sweaty-palmed dreams. And that crazy bitch Auntie."

She sighed.

"Praz Vidal had the idea of an all-female sort of... guard unit. Figured it'd cut a bit of flash with visiting VIPs. I don't think he really cared if we were all that effective, but he recruited from Elaccan girls who had the right combination of looks and physical fitness. Wanted a bunch of pretty dolls in uniform around the ducal residence. Probably figured we'd make a fun diversion. And also put his visitors at ease. Being good little subjects, we were all honored to be picked, of course. A job for the Duke and snazzy uniforms? Sounds great if you're an empty-headed kid."

A slight shifting of position.

"Auntie's the one who decided we'd be real soldiers. She was a hatchet-faced woman somewhere between... I dunno, forty and forty thousand. And as I now know, she was a renegade or failed or just plain loopy Bene Gesserit. Which makes a kind of sense, who else would see a bunch of teenaged girls picked mostly for aesthetics and go, 'I'm going to make fighters out of every single one of you'?"

There was a slight tension in her body.

"If she'd been a better teacher than a drill sergeant, I might not be in the fix I am now."

[Hadrian Martikova]

He grinned while recalling the antics he got up to as a kid. But needless to say those memories took a back seat for the time being. He listened for a time unsurprised. They had slightly talked about some of it. But then the part about a renegade Bene Gesserit got his attention.

"No kidding," his eyes were wide as saucers, "you were actually trained by a Bene Gesserit? Aren't they master manipulators or something? I've always heard them referred to as witches?"

[Laila Bridger]

"I... doubt the Sisterhood would be happy to claim her, but... yeah. Some things that happened with the visions- and earlier today? She was one of theirs at some point."

She swallowed.

How was he going to take this?

"And... in a way, somehow, so am I. Kind of."

Is this the part where he recoils, runs off or throws me out?

[Hadrian Martikova]

"Visions?" He sat up more. "You mean the shared hallucination thing? You touched on it but didn't really go into detail."

He tilted his head slightly. Trying to wrap his pragmatic mind around the more esoteric language.

"You're... kind of a Bene Gesserit? Is that how it works? What, do they use subliminal conditioning on you or something?"

[Laila Bridger]

"I don't think there's much precedence for us. Kiran and I."

So far, so good?

"We... in the infirmary this morning, Kiran started reciting an oath, and... I knew it too. I recited it too. But I have no idea how it got there- Auntie absolutely never said anything like it, and it's... there are things in my mind. Phrases, aphorisms, that I have no business knowing. And... we were contacted this evening."

She looked him in the eyes.

"Please don't ask me by whom. I... think it might be dangerous for you to know.. Suffice it to say, she was there to... feel us out. I... don't think we impressed her much, but I think the jury is still out. But she didn't seem to have expected us. I think we caught her as off-guard as she did us."

[Hadrian Martikova]

"Wait, hold on. Kiran was... also... trained by Bene Gesserit? You're not.. are you saying they're actively manipulating the Muadh?"

The idea of those witches messing with the innocent Muadh made his body tense slightly. But he waited for an explanation before jumping to conclusions.

"I'm really confused here. But just clarify one thing first, are you... one of them? Or do you intend on being one of them?" A pause, "It... it's not, I won't... I mean." He really didn't know how to respond, this was not something he'd expected.