K'mra's up and about, sauntering into the weyr at some ungodly pre-dawn hour. Careful to be quiet, she peers -- "R'il?" she calls softly.  "You awake?"

R'il paces in front of his table, fifteen steps in one direction, a turn, and then fifteen more steps.  Turning towards the sound of his weyrmate's voice, his eyes betray the fact that he hasn't slept this night, even though today is his day off.  "Kym...," he grees, voice low and ragged.

Surprise accounts for K'mra's hesitation, but she recovers quickly, shuffle-striding over.  "I wasn't expecting you to be up," she remarks.  "Is something the matter?"  By the look of him, something is -- she doesn't pry, however, simply seating herself as she awaits an explanation.

R'il is dying to hear some good news.  "Well, what did you come here for this morning?" he asks, trying to lighten his tone and even smile a bit.

K'mra offers only a slight shrug as she replies, "I wasn't about to stay in that weyr with Yelena all day - did you expect me to?"  Briefly, she sports a smile. "Besides, it's your day off.  And I /hate/ waking late."  Workaholic, she -- even her early rising schedule remained, despite her pregnancy.

R'il winces at the mention of Yelena's name.  "Funny that you should mention her," he begins, even though there isn't any mirth in his voice.  Stepping over, he offers, "Would you like to sit, Kym?  Would you like some juice?"

"I already am," the brownrider responds amusedly.  "And no, I'm fine -- thanks for the offer, anyhow."  Brows quirk -- she /saw/ that flinch of R'il's, and, concerned, queries, "What's happened, now?  Has she been trying to sneak out of the weyr when I specifically told her she's restricted to Igen?"

R'il nods slightly, more than a little distracted.  "Well, yes, but that's not why I mentioned her...well, it is, sorta."  He trails off, unsure what to do. So he begins with, "Do you remember that argument we have a couple of months ago?  And I left your weyr..."

"Of course," K'mra replies, leaning forward slightly in her chair.  "You stormed out - I don't even remember what we were fighting about, though."  Blame it on her hormones.  She does, for all her unaccountable behavior.  "What happened?  What's Yelena have to do with that night?"

R'il wells, and tries to continue.  "Well, I got drunk.  Very drunk.  And all I know is that I woke up naked, and with some scratches.  But I figured that I had gone...to relieve myself in some bushes and fell."

K'mra stays silent a moment or two; finally she manages a simple: "Oh."  Head nods, and she encourages, "Go on - so what happened?"

R'il shrugs.  "Nothing that I remember.  At all."  Again, he begins to pace, nervous, tired, and unsure.  "But..well, Yelena says she's pregnant, and that it's mine, and she knows how my scar curls over my hip, and how my belt was thrown in the corner...," he babbles.  Turning to face her, voice growing firmer and more earnest, he stresses, "I was so drunk, I still don't remember it at all...and now all she wants to do is throw hysterics, and go ::between::, but I can't let her do that, can I?"  He slumps into a chair, and his head bows into his hands.  "K'mra, I'm so sorry...."

"She's what -- you did /what?/"  Stunned, K'mra only stares at her weyrmate for several shocked moments -- time drags on, and she finally spits out, "And you said that /I/ was unfaithful!  That /I/ wasn't honest!"  Brownrider sinks back into her chair, paling.  "And when you -- when you'd gone out and gotten Yelena - of all people, /Yelena/ - sharding pregnant!"

R'il flushes.  "I didn't mean to!  I never seduced her!  By her own admission, she just used me when I was too drunk to do anything...I just.."  Looking up, he notes, "I was never as angry at you as you were as you at yourself, or me for sleeping with someone that I had to because of a flight!"

K'mra continues on, regardless of R'il's protests. "I don't care what she does with that child.  If she wants to go between, let her.  Crackdust -- it's her decision.  Not yours.  Not anyone else's."  She doesn't mean it, really, but says so nonetheless.  The woman subsides, at last, sullenly inspecting her fingernails.  "She's a Candidate, you know.  Candidates can not be pregnant."

R'il frowns.  "I know that.  I plan to report her today.  But..K'rma, shardit, it's my child too.  I can't let her do that, just because it's convenient."  Why doesn't she understand?  Getting to his feet again, he adds hotly, "I want her to have the child just like I wanted you to have it...I wasn't raised to throw away my responsibilities for my actions when they didn't work out perfectly, regardless of whether I was drunk at the time or not."

"And so what do you plan on doing, then?" K'mra snaps.  "How are you sharding going to keep her from going between?  Once she's no longer a Candidate, you won't have any control over her actions.  And I /refuse/ to keep her in my weyr for nine months."  Indeed, she plans on kicking her out as soon as possible. " And besides - what'd you do, if she /did/ decide to keep the child, on a whim?"

R'il straightens himself.  "I would take the child, and raise it, like I should," he replies.  "Like I intend to with our child...And I intend to make sure she doesn't corrupt the child so that it'll turn out like she has."
 
K'mra laughs - a short, bitter laugh.  "So, you were just planning on raising that child -- you'd just /assumed/ that you'd be raising that child along with ours?  You'd made this decision - and you hadn't even talked me, first!" She bites at her lower lip, nearly drawing blood as she mulls; her final words are forceful.  "A relationship, R'il, isn't just one person, in case you hadn't noticed.  We're in this together, and how are we supposed to share the same weyr when you're off impregnating bratty Holders and then bringing home their children - without consulting me, first?"

R'il frowns.  "I didn't do this on purpose.  And nothing's been decided, K'mra.  /Nothing/."  Turning away from her, he notes bitterly, "She's probably going to kill it.  And maybe I thought you wouldn't mind because you haven't even really moved in with me...half your time or more is spent in your weyr."

"You act like it is," K'mra remarks.  Head comes up at his comment upon the weyr situation, and she retorts, "I /thought/ you wouldn't like to be kept awake half the night with me unable to get to sleep, unable to get comfortable.  It was a courtesy to you - I /know/ that you've early sweeps, often enough.  It wasn't a permanent situation -- and besides!  We'd decided to 'take it slowly,' I thought.  If you'd just let me know..." Helplessly, she flings up hands.  "Maybe I just shouldn't bother; maybe we need some time apart."

R'il frowns again.  "I wanted you to be with me, and I knew it meant being up in the middle of the night, and hard work.  But you just want me to go.  That's all you ever wanted, wasn't it, Kym?  Me gone?  Well, fine.  If that's what you want, I'll go."  Grabbing his flight jacket, he stalks towards the ledge.

K'mra flings parting words, crying out, "It /wasn't/!  It isn't - but maybe it is, if this is how you're going to be."  Violently propelling herself from her seat, she furiously begins to grab at nearby belongings - her belongings. "Don't you /bother/ to leave.  I'll leave.  I'll get out of your precious weyr - your /life./  Don't expect me coming back, ever."

Too late.  Ysaeth has lifted off, and flown away, his rider in search of wine and oblivion.