Logs:A Fresh Start
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| RL Date: 9 October, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The Acting Weyrleader and Senior Weyrwoman discuss issues after Z'ian's incident-- both the Weyr's and their own. There's progress! |
| Where: Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 12, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Ienevi/Mentions, Rone/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backscened because our lives are hectic at the moment. x3 |
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| Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort -- meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest. Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever hidework requires particularly frequent attention. A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind.
The days following Z'ian's accident have been a blur and a struggle to keep the Senior queen's inferno from raging on unchecked. Caught between Hraedhyth's upset and her own tears, Azaylia is exhausted-- but not willing to let that put a halt in her duties. Hair pinned prettily, dress freshly laundered, there's only so much that can be done to combat the sag in her red eyes. "I... no. I can, but I won't." Admitting that she was at least aware of the option, but gave it no more thought than that. In her usual seat, the Weyrwoman is watching him with a tired, but amiable enough gaze. "Z'ian knew what he was doing." At least now, she's able to mention him without tears. K'del's sympathy is so obvious, so intense, but he doesn't word it, this time. "He was a good Weyrleader," he says instead, moving back to the table and setting down a drink in front of Azaylia, and then one in front of his own seat. "We're the poorer for his absence." That, too, seems a genuine response, serious and heartfelt. "Lord Aughan is looking in to what happened, as much as he can. Not sure what he was doing, out there on the border, but... if it was intentional, if it was deliberate, we'll find out." Azaylia takes a cleansing sip, drink burning through her otherwise tight throat at the possibility of it not being an accident. With a dark husk that has little to do with her drink, "We'd better." A subtle hint that Hraedhyth is not the only one who would demand vengeance-- if applicable. It takes some effort, but the Weyrwoman turns away from such uncertainties for what is and can be done, "Of course, you have our support. Cadejoth only needs to ask." It dawns on her then, face alight only to darken as she realizes, "I never even asked if you want this." Her struggle with propriety ends, folding her hands atop the table as she looks towards K'del, "Don't feel like you have to, just because Z'ian..." The echo of his own words dies as her thoughts are swept away by hypotheticals. If not K'del, then who? Across the table, K'del displays no visible reaction to that first remark of Azaylia's, though that second train of thought makes him smile in a thin, serious kind of way. "I have always been at High Reaches' service," he tells her, the answer of a practiced politician and spoken as smoothly, though he's giving no indication that his personal feelings might be different. "Doesn't mean it doesn't complicate things for me, but - I'm here. Until her next flight, I'm at your service - yours, and High Reaches'." His lifted glass is not quite a toast, but it's as much as he's going to offer because, "Guess I'll spend some time getting my head around what's changed in the past three turns. Is there anything outstanding? Anything I should know about?" "I'm serious, K'del." Azaylia's voice remains gentle, genuine, and yet touched by a hint of command. "If it's going to make things too complicated for you-- I'd understand." It's not an attempt to chase the bronzerider off, but his one last chance at freedom. Especially when she points out, "He might catch her, next flight." Hardly a prediction, just that it's not impossible. Provided he's in it for the long haul, the Weyrwoman lets loose a drawn out, airy sigh. Where to begin? She'll touch upon the refugees, and Devaki's agreement to help share the burden of housing and feeding the incoming Nabolese. It reminds of her of more... recent requests. "Ienevi, the woman who claims her baby is Ustelan's heir? She wants... protection. Well, she wants to speak to us-- me? About it." Which obviously doesn't thrill her.. "I don't... like it. I don't want to put our riders in danger for someone who could be a liar." Despite how it sounds, she hasn't completely made up her mind. Dark eyes watch K'del with open curiosity, "What do you think?" The short, sharp, firm shake of K'del's head is all the answer he gives to that; that, and his determined expression. "If he does," he says, of his dragon's catching ability, "he does. And if not... I'll step back again." The end - at least as far as he's concerned. He listens intently to everything the Weyrwoman has to say, making notes on a page in front of him but otherwise holding his tongue. Her last remarks have him hesitating. "Ienavi always struck me as a capable women," he muses, clearly thinking out loud, even once he has begun to put words to thoughts. "Not the friendliest of people, but capable. Do I think it is in her own interest to have a son who is Ustelan's heir? Yes. Does that mean... shells, I don't know. Is Rone any better?" By his expression, and by the way he spits out that name, he doesn't think so. "I'd listen to what she has to say, at least. You can do that, quietly - she's at Healer Hall, isn't she? Just visit there, and do it quietly." Along with the polite mask she wears, Azaylia's lips purse ever so faintly at K'del's curt reply. The hint of displeasure quickly fades, looking back down at her half-empty drink to slowly spin the glass. "At least Rone isn't building an alliance with Aishani." What should so obviously be a joke falls somewhat flat as she adds, "...yet." The rest of the harsh burn is thrown down her throat, its decent causing her back to stiffen-- pulling her out of bitter suspicion. As unlike the Weyrwoman as such emotions seem, it's all too fitting in her exhausted state. "I could do that. Might as well. It'd be rude not to." Since it's a request and all. Overwhelmed, but not unhelpful, "Just in case I'm missing anything, I'll send you my reports for the past month or so." Not copies-- she trusts him that much. K'del has noticed, must have noticed, that displeasure; he chooses, it seems, to ignore it. Her comment about Rone and Aishani, however, he can't ignore: "I'd say that isn't funny, but since Aishani is so obviously already in Ienavi's camp - or at least working with her - I'm not sure it's relevant." There's a quiet amount of force to that statement, not quite chiding nor disapproving, but nonetheless clearly taking no part in it. "I'd appreciate that," he says of the reports. "I'd like to get my head around everything, as best I can. Stepping back, though... Aishani. I want her back on board." "I'll do what I can." A quiet murmur, and it seems as though Azaylia has had similar thoughts, if only far less optimistic regarding the outcome. After, she settles into staring into the bottom of her now-still glass. K'del pauses, glass half-way to his mouth. Azaylia's reaction obviously bothers him, leaving him with a breath sucked in through his teeth - an obvious hesitation following. "Do you want me to talk to her?" he wonders. "Or do you want to talk strategies? Don't imagine it would be as simple as simply telling her to come back to work, but... there's ways. I'm sure there's ways. And I don't want you to feel..." He fails to come up with an appropriate word, and trails off. Then: "Azaylia." The longer Azaylia stares, still as stone, the easier it is to see her throat tightening, swallowing faster and faster. Blinking quickly, she lets out a quivering exhale, "I'm the Weyrwoman." It's her duty. "She's not going to get special treatment. I've been trying it her way, and she's too much of a burden." She doesn't look up, half-lidded gaze hidden by heavy lashes, "You don't have to like me, or your duties, K'del..." A sharp inhale, "But don't treat me like I'm a child." Her strength quickly fades, the last coming out as a whimper, "Please." "What?" K'del's genuinely taken aback by that, more surprised than frustrated, though perhaps that will come. "What gave you the impression I didn't like you? Or this job? What ever gave you that impression?" He drops his gaze from her towards his drink, downing a large swallow all in one go. "I'm not treating you like a child. I'm just offering suggestions, shells. But then, I've no idea what it's been like for you. This is all new, for me; I'm just stepping in. Why don't you... I don't know, tell me how it's felt. What it's been like. How you feel." K'del's surprise has Azaylia's gaze snapping up to his face, only to duck her head back down, watery brown eyes hidden once more. "I feel like..." It's difficult to put into words, silence persisting until she can manage with a steady voice. "I feel like... you're only doing this because you have to. That's good, in a way." But in another it isn't, or else she wouldn't be upset. "Z'ian. It was so nice. It was right. He trusted me, and I was beginning-- It wasn't awkward." Like this, presumably. Elbows on the table, her fingers interlace to help shield her face as she admits, "I was happy when he picked you. I thought it'd be like... but it's still awful." When she peeks through her fingers, it's with another mumble, "You're so... hard." The way K'del looks at his drink, it's as though he'd very much like to down all of it, and probably a refill or two as well, in lieu of answering Azaylia-- or perhaps anything at all. Instead, he sets down the glass, pressing both hands to the table, speaking very quietly. "I've always wanted the job, Azaylia. I tried to convince myself I didn't, that I was relieved, but-- you've no idea how difficult it was. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I don't trust you or... or any of it. Not trying to. This is hard for me; you were different, three turns ago," when they last really had to work together at all. "Everything was. But I'm trying. But it feels... like you've already decided I don't trust you, want to tell you what to do, think I know best, and it doesn't matter what I do or say otherwise. Can we start again? Please?" Several more swallows follow K'del's words, and Azaylia does her best to pull herself back together with quick not-sniffles. Quietly, "You don't have to trust me. Not completely. That wouldn't be fair." Hinted at by her earlier words of only just beginning to trust Z'ian, even after nine months. "I just miss... I learned that..." The Weyrwoman's apology is a bit clumsy, and she tries again, "I'm sorry." All inclusive and genuine. There's no smile paired with the subtle hope, "I'd... like that. To start again. I-- Weyrleading is so much nicer with a... a friend." K'del does smile, but oh, it's a thin and pained kind of thing. "Is it? Guess I'd like to find that out." It's certainly true that he and Tiriana were never friends, but does that mean Iolene doesn't count? "Seems like it would be, though. If you can... play for the same team, as it were." His nod is slow, and very careful, seemingly designed to reassure himself as much as Azaylia. "So... where should we start? Or how. Shells, I don't know." Azaylia's lips are still, though there's a weak sort of smile to her eyes, "Alright." Not quite a promise, but she'll try. His question has her arms crossing atop the table, hugging herself some as she considers it. "I..." Hm. Carefully, "Well. I'd want you to know that... that I'm still glad Z'ian chose you. And that I know you'll do your best. And I want to... help. If you need me. Not just with... leadership." A glimpse of the uncertain young woman she used to be, and still is at times. "You can depend on me. And Hraedhyth." Whether or not K'del is sure of what Azaylia means, with regards to helping, he treats her words with absolute seriousness. "And the same is also true," he tells her. "We'll do our best for you, and for High Reaches. And if you need me for anything..." Another nod punctuates it: he'll be there. "You're the Weyrwoman. I'll offer suggestions, if I have ideas, but... you're not obligated to do what I say, and... won't try and force you to agree with me. We're a team, okay?" Now, Azaylia manages a weak smile, "Okay. This... this is good." The grip on her arms loosens some, not needing to hold herself together so tightly. "And you're the Weyrleader, Acting or not. I'll listen." With a soft nod, "A team. Partners." A lesson she's had the chance to learn these past several months. "I'll talk to Ienevi. And Aishani. You can, too. If you'd like. I don't... think it's going to go over well. But I'll try." Speaking of the latter, obviously. "Good." K'del's-- not pleased, not in the actively happy sense, but he's approving, at least, serious gaze softening just slightly. Of Aishani he says, "Think the important thing is to... do it smartly. Not that I'm saying you wouldn't, naturally. But. What's the carrot? What's the stick? You can tell her I'm threatening to have her transferred, if you like." "I wouldn't wish her on another Weyr..." Azaylia murmurs, and yet, "I don't see what else there is to do if she doesn't start contributing." Despite earlier suspicions, and the quite obvious sore spot, there's nothing bitter about her words. Clearly, she won't allow K'del to weild the stick alone. "And if Ienevi sounds reasonable... do you think it's a good idea? Putting our riders at risk?" Never mind the backlash, whatever there may be, at the Weyr's support of the once-and-maybe-still Lady. "You could also give her the option of flying with one of the fighting wings. Not that I think she'd take it, which would be the point, I guess. Otherwise... well, we can have Giorda's staff pack up all of her things and take them back to stores, since, as a non-contributing member of the Weyr, she clearly shouldn't receive anything. Still, I'd rather avoid something that public, I think." K'del's tone is neutral, but there's something a little self-satisfied about the idea of doing such a thing, nonetheless. Of Ienavi, he's less sure, hesitating for a long time before answering. "Seems like the Weyr would benefit from having the matter sorted. It'd depend how strong her case is - whether she can prove it. What she can do for us. The situation with Rone is bad, plain and simple. If she can bring peace... it may be worth it. I don't know." The breathless laugh that follows is far from malicious, though Azaylia is amused by the thought of the younger gold pair regularly preforming drills. As for the repossession of store goods in use, "That's a bit... harsh. But it would be fitting." The Weyrwoman doesn't sound eager about any of it, even subtly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Her lips purse some, "I'd also like proof." Of Ienevi's claims. "So far, proof is that there isn't any that she is lying." Which isn't terribly comforting, judging by the faint twist to her lips. Reluctantly, "A chance at peace is better than what Rone promises." Just enough to sway her in the Lady's favor. Barely. "I'd rather not be harsh," owns K'del. "Rather have a working relationship with her, even if we'll never get along on a personal and social level. Rather give her the option to come back-- just offer her the knot again, maybe, before we involve any big dramatics." He reaches for his glass again, studying what remains of the tawny liquid before he adds, "Mm. I hope so. If she can get the other Holds on side and sort it all out... she'd be in our debt, then. Which could be useful. But it's risky. Talk to her; see what you think of her, afterwards. Winter makes it more difficult for Rone to do more anyway, I guess, without Weyr support." This time Azaylia isn't on the verge of tears when she says, "I'll do what I can." No doubt she'd rather try her best than have things continue as they are. It's a lot to think about, some of which distracts the goldrider into silence. Finally, "It is risky." Which doesn't change her mind on any of it, but it bears repeating. Slow to stand, "Would you like another drink?" Her glass is already in hand, halted only by her manners. "You can keep asking questions, and maybe tell me a little about what you have planned for the Wings? I like to hear about it." Even if she doesn't really have a say in how the Weyrleader handles them. K'del's nod is short, but firm. "We'll see what we can do. If needs be, I'll ask one of the other Weyrwomen to drop in as if to interview her or something." It makes him crack a smile, but it's hard to tell if he's serious about that idea, either. "I'd love one. The wings-- mm. Well, as you know, it's not my intention to kick F'manis out of his position, and I don't think I want to take Boreal on, either. Instead--" And on it goes. Progress has been made! |
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