Logs:A Perfectly Polite Parley
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| RL Date: 20 November, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Oriane |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Monaco Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Brieli visits Monaco to raise the issue of Azaylia's conversation with R'hin. |
| Where: Monaco Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 4, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
| Storyteller: K'del/ST |
| The weather at Monaco is no doubt better than the rain and mud that marks spring at High Reaches. That might account for Iesaryth's equitable, calm mood as she appears in the skies off the shores of the jungle Weyr, content to take her time about gliding into shore. The tide slips in politely, for all her presence is a bit sudden and strong - though the sense of her greeting is general, the waves rush for Evielth before any other; hers would speak, as soon as possible, if she doesn't mind? There's an cool current to the waters that might be a warning, but otherwise, it seems like she's just dropping by. If that's possible to do casually at this point. Evielth is not, perhaps, as surprised as it might seem like she ought to be - though the Monacoan queen is not known for being especially prone to showing her hand (as it were). « She is unavoidably detained, at present, » the older queen says in answer. Surely Iesaryth will understand how these things go: how busy a Weyrwoman can be. Unspoken is the implication of 'had you given us advanced warning...', but the point is far from belaboured. After all, this is just a casual visit, is it not? Instead, « Our assistant will come to meet you. » It's to Oriane's private sitting room that she'll be shown, with that assistant - a quiet woman in her mid-thirties by the name of Caidelle - dancing in attendance. Does Brieli need a drink? Something to eat? She should make herself comfortable! Which she waits. While Iesaryth might not be bothered by such things - time at Monaco means time nearer the ocean she so enjoys - she has no such assurance about her Brieli. Perhaps leaving that unspoken is enough. But yes, it's understandable, and of course, given she and hers have been under the weight of such duties themselves. They can hardly get away! But she doesn't belabor that, either. Brieli is likewise polite, but short and brisk, dressed somberly and professionally - and along that vein, she only asks for water from Caidelle. She's pleasant, but she's clearly waiting, pulling an envelope from her jacket to set it on the table. Neither dragon nor rider seem all that shocked at the wait. The dark girl, in fact, smirks briefly at one point. Caidelle produces a pitcher of water - iced water at that - and two glasses, and sets them out upon the table. She must have noticed that envelope, but she's trained, presumably, to be discreet and unquestioning, and makes no mention of it. Having done her duty, she retreats towards the door, but doesn't leave-- not until the door swings open once more, and Oriane (at last!) appears. "Brieli," she says, quietly, and without apology. "This is a surprise. I trust your needs have been attended to." The youngest of the Reaches weyrwomen doesn't seem very young as she waits; she's a woman with patience, at least - no matter the reason she's been left to cool her heels. The ice water meets with appreciation, and she's quick to sip it when the door opens, set the glass down carefully again. "It seems a season for surprises," Brieli tells Oriane, with a smile that seems too sincere for that to be some sort of dig. Rising from the seat she'd claimed, "And yes, Caidelle was quite accommodating. I think I need one of those." "In times like these," opines Oriane, but only after the door has closed behind her assistant, "I find it is difficult to make effective predictions. You look well. Despite - " She pauses, the subtle inclination of her head evidently intended to convey a lot (though of course, Monaco's formal condolences were tendered some time ago). As she crosses the room, aiming to take a seat opposite Brieli, she agrees, "I daresay I could not do without her. A good assistant is a pearl beyond price." As Brieli sits back down, she takes the envelope from the table, pulling out the contents. Nodding, she agrees, "Recent events have certainly been beyond my ability to predict, but I suppose even the best prepared people are surprised now and again. But, even I don't tend to think that badly of others." There's something of a wry smile at Oriane's literal nod to the circumstances. "I'll have to see if one turns up, though there's few pearls in the mountains." That's enough for pleasantries, apparently, as she offers over the report in hand. "I understand you're terribly busy, so I'll get to the point: Whose idea was this?" The report neatly details the circumstances of Azaylia's meeting with R'hin. And Brieli's dark gaze is steady on Monaco's Weyrwoman, expectant. Expectant. Who does she think she is? It rather seems as though Oriane would be perfectly content to sit and discuss pleasantries for hours: she is in no hurry to move on, though nor does she seem bothered by Brieli's abrupt shift. The report is given only a superficial glance, and is then set back down upon the table - abandoned, while Oriane pours herself a glass of water, though once poured she does not reach to drink from it. "Leiventh's rider has our proxy in many matters," she says, quite calm: she's utterly unfazed by Brieli's expectancy. She also has not answered the question. Brieli can wait. She did wait, for all that Oriane now apparently has nothing to do but chat over lighter topics. She does wait, in fact, long enough that the silence might become uncomfortable. Her eyes are calm enough, but flinty and focused. When she moves, she moves quickly, reaching out for her own glass of water, attention flickering there only briefly. "Does he," is a statement more than a question. "I'll just assume everything in there is Monaco official policy and requests, then?" She takes the report away again just then, since it's so unworthy of attention. "You may make any assumptions you choose to, of course," says Oriane, which - once again - does not answer any questions: Oriane, it seems, prefers to keep her hands clean. Or is there more to it than that? "It is in the best interests of both our Weyrs to see this matter dealt with expeditiously. To that end, I am quite sure that you are capable of coming to an arrangement with our chosen proxy. It would be a tragic thing, were relations between us to sour." "Tragic. Interesting choice of words," Brieli notes, as she folds up the notes, tucks them away in the envelope, her glass of water abandoned. "There's already been a tragedy that has soured relations between the two Weyrs. I would call soured relations 'inconvenient', at worst. Tragic is finding the body of a Weyrwoman. Tragic how things will end, I fear." As she slides the envelope back into her jacket pocket, she purses her lips, perhaps considering her next words. Glancing up to Oriane, "We will come to an arrangement by whatever means you choose, but there are things that we will make clear. Neither you, nor your proxy is in any position to demand anything, no matter who you talk to or talk around. You are not the injured party, and any attempt to obtain restitution, no matter the reasons or excuses, will be ignored. I will make my assumptions then as well, as I have little else to go on but your actions." And unspoken, but clear in her gaze and the set of her mouth - I'm not going anywhere. "I won't take up more of your time if you're not seeing to this personally." Oriane shows no reaction - there's certainly no suggestion that she's bothered by Brieli's reaction, or inclined to argue. She's quite calm when she says, "You make your feelings quite clear, of course. As is your right. One cannot help, however, but mourn this dark day, when a Weyr has no right to involvement in the condemnation of their own rider. But perhaps we ought to have abandoned our rider altogether, the moment accusations were laid in his direction. Good day, Iesaryth's rider. It is a pity your queen could not enjoy further hospitality from the Weyr of her birth, but--" Oriane's shoulders shrug, just lightly. "Such, it seems, is the way of things." "You have every right to involvement, abandon or plead his case at will. But I'd like to make sure that this situation isn't taken as an opportunity to overstep," Brieli says as calmly, with the trace of a smile. "I'm sure you understand. And if I were you, I'd mourn the dark day that someone decided it was all right to poison a Weyrleader. I won't say it's your culture that did it, but I'd certainly be watching my back, Weyrwoman." The added emphasis on the title might be due to that connection - or the marked lack of any sort of one on Oriane's part. The last does arch fine brows, but she rises, gathering her jacket, content to leave things there. But for, on her way out, as the door swings closed, "We'll send on some tea. Clear skies." Iesaryth and her rider do not linger, storm clouds drifting over the gold's tides as they fly out. Oriane's brows rise, just slightly, at Brieli's implications - but she makes no further remark, and her expression, otherwise, does not shift. Nor does Evielth have any further remark for Iesaryth: she has no walls built around her, but her concerns are - quite plainly - elsewhere. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Tue, 20 Nov 2012 06:36:59 GMT.
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Rawr! Go Brieli!
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