Logs:A Tempting Offer Accepted
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| RL Date: 19 January, 2015 |
| Who: Devaki, Wulfan |
| Involves: High Reaches Hold, Igen Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Devaki gets a moment with Wulfan under the guise of visiting Yuliye and Joremy's child. |
| Where: Igen Hold |
| When: Day 26, Month 10, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Issedi/Mentions, Braeden/Mentions, Yuliye/Mentions, Joremy/Mentions, Daroda/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Wulfan played by Rose. |
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| Coming into Igen, there's been a marked relaxation of guards, at least compared to what rumor says there are. Life seeming to have picked up the pieces of chaos and reshaped them back into some semblance of normal. Most people seem to be going about their business and when they speak of 'Lord Igen', it's clear many of the smallfolk refer to Joremy in an optimistic way. It's not that the baby is ugly, it's just it's hard to tell when he looks so sickly. There are mutterings that the child won't last the turn, but Yuliye seems utterly exhausted and besotted at the same time. For someone who's lived a life that didn't seem to have space for small humans, she's taken to motherhood in that same fatigue-wearied, joyful way that lends a luminence to her aura. Joremy, however, is tense and speaks brief words, however warm, to the visiting Reachian party. Conversation is mostly kept to small talk as any venture into politics has Yuliye's expression turning forbiddingly sharp. The new Lord's apartments aren't so far from the old Lord's apartments, and it's on their guided way out that Wulfan's door open, almost as if he'd been watching and waiting, and a smile forces its way to crease the former Lord's face. "Devaki, my old friend." Apology shapes Wulfan's face as he casts a look to Braeden, "If it won't trouble you, I'd love to catch up with a face I don't see often enough. Mater," a brief acknowledgement of the assistant steward that guides the trio, "Can find some refreshments for you, sir?" The High Reaches continent is rather smaller than one might expect -- Lord Devaki, of course, his brother in law Braeden, his ever-present Guard Captain Raum, and a young woman known to be an assistant to Lady Issedi. The High Reaches Lord gives apologies for his Lady, "She always struggles in her first trimester. She dearly wishes she could be here," is said with a genuine sentiment; his expression when he regards the child is a mixture of sympathy and stoicness. He seems to have no interest in politics, and though polite and easy with Joremy, does not refer to him as Lord, nor Yuliye as his Lady. The fact that Devaki's steps slow, and his eyes swing towards the old Lord's apartments even before the door opens suggests his interest. The response from the High Reaches Lord is genuine, a pleasure at seeing Wulfan striking in the way he smiles warmly, reaching a hand out to clasp the older man's. Devaki, too, looks to Braeden, as the ex-Lord (the High Reachian one, not the Igen one!) nods his head in assent. "If you want to talk..." there's a humor in Braeden's voice, and a gesture for Mater to lead the way for himself and the young woman with him. Raum lingers, but seems content to linger in the corridor. In spite of the lack of guards by Wulfan's door, the man seems to lack any desire to leave his quarters. The inner Hold's sanctum is surprisingly unrestricted, given givens. The door pulls open further, revealing a well-lit chamber, with windows that are opened. Daroda is nowhere to be found, and Wulfan is quick to explain the lack of wife with, "She's," or not so quick as the man hesiates before continuing, "She's managing the Hold while Yuliye is in her laying in period. Come in. Drink?" He's already moving towards the small cabinet with its dwindling supply of liquor and pours out two drinks: one into a glass already there and another into a new one. There's a last exchange of glances between Devaki and his Captain, before he follows Wulfan inside. "That's... kind of her." Given the situation, he seems to imply. When offered a drink, he nods, taking a moment to take a turn around the room before he selects a seat, watching Wulfan all the while -- taking in the older man's demeanor with the measured air of a man once trained by a mindhealer. He's been drinking a lot. That much is clear. And a scan of the room will reveal no inadequacies other than the unreplenished liquor bottles. Drudges must come in to clean daily as the receiving room is free of dust, polished furniture, and all the cleanliness trappings accorded to Wulfan's once rank. The doors to the bedroom are cracked open, and a peek reveals that it, too, is cleaned. "What can I say, old friend, my wife is as charitable as Joremy's new paramour pretends to be." The bitter words of an ousted man. "How is your wife?" That earns a genuine smile from Devaki, "Pregnant. Fussy." The wave of his hand suggests that's nothing new. "Hoping for another boy. But," he leans forward, gaze fixed on Wulfan, voice earnest: "I'm sure you're not too interested in that. Tell me what's been going on. Tell me how I can help." Wulfan leans himself against the wall, bending his frame in such a way that his natural gaze falls in line with the glass. He turns it, watching the amber liquid climbs up the sides of his drink and falls in thin trails. "We've never been able to conceive. So, in a way, I am interested. Just," he heaves a sigh, a rueful twist to his mouth. "Oh how the mighty fall." A single gulp claims the contents of his drink and he sets the glass down on the nearby surface with enough force to be loud, but not to shatter. "You don't really want to know how you can help. I fear you'd be disappointed in me, Dev. With your eyes that seem to see everything and yet I'm glad you can't actually seem to see too deeply. Let's have another." Another! Devaki's expression seems to say that's it, exhaling a low breath and setting aside his glass on the table in front of him. "Seems to me," he says, casually, "That you didn't want to keep it badly enough. Bastards can be legitimized, and wives can... find someone else for a night or two." That he keeps his voice light is deliberate, and the latter makes his brows rise. "Maybe. Maybe not." He exhales. "Come to High Reaches. Issedi would love Daroda's company, and this," he gestures to the room, allowing a hint of heat to creep in, "Is not helping you." "We'll be in Katz Field soon." Wait, what? Wulfan looks at Devaki with glassy eyes that clear. He's not so far in his drinks that he can't understand. It just takes him a few moments longer. "Would Joremy allow it? Daroda... she would love to escape Igen, for a little while. Sometimes, I'm amazed she's stayed. I thought... I was sure she'd leave when the dust had settled. Though," rueful, he reaches to pour out another glass and raises it to Dev, "The dust hasn't completely settled yet. All that's left is a confirmation and then we'll see if she stays." "Allow," Devaki echoes that almost precisely, except with a timbre of dryness to it. "I'll make it known on the way out to all and sundry that Issedi has asked for you both you support her in her difficult pregnancy. Even if he does send you to Katz, a dragon can retrieve you." A beat, "Both of you, if Daroda will..." a sense of uncertainty, like for once he's not sure where the older man's wife might settle. He finally reaches for the glass, again, and this time takes a drink, pushing to his feet. "Well then. When you're ready, either way, let us know. We'll send one of the Weyr's riders to bring you, old friend." "If it weren't for that harpy," Wulfan, clearly not bitter at all, sips this second glass slower. "Joremy would never have gotten it into his head that any of this would be possible. We'll accept your invitation. Katz Field be damned. It can wait until we're ready to come back." The older man slants a look to Devaki, an incautious, scrutinizing look. "Do you ever wish you hadn't aspired towards the Holdership?" That Devaki exhales on the ex-Lord of Igen's answer suggests there was some weight to the offer, and relief at his friend's acceptance. There's not even a beat before he answers, certainly: "Never." He takes a gulp -- two, three, draining the glass, his voice rough with the alcohol as he says, "Nothing is set in stone yet, my friend." It's the question he's wanted to ask since the start. That he's admirably not asked until now. "How will you vote?" Wulfan looks at the glass. A student of humans and human reactions will find Wulfan's face a gold mine of conflict. There's a twitch to his nose, a split-second squint to his eyes, and a press of his lips that is there and then not, among a myriad of other small reactions. "I still get a vote. I think. I've resigned, he's taken over, but until it's confirmed, my voice is the one at the Conclave." There is no small amount of smug satisfaction there, a smarminess that has probably not ingratiated him to his Hold in general. "But I refuse to seem petty in all this. I would- will vote to confirm." "You signed the papers." Devaki says, in that matter-of-fact-tone. The ones abdicating his position. Blue eyes have noted that conflict, and it's perhaps that that prompts him to ask: "Will you tell me why?" "Would you really want to know?" The blonde man shakes his head and sets the unfinished glass down. "It doesn't matter at any rate. I've resigned and Joremy will be Lord. Cendon and Tristen will make sure of that." Wulfan stalks his way to the window and looks out it. "If you don't want to rescind your offer, we'll be ready to leave after the confirmation. Pray it's soon, Dev, for this nightmare to be over." There's an impatient gesture from Devaki -- of course he would want to know -- and yet he doesn't press the ex Igen Lord. His gaze narrows at Wulfan's mention of Bitra and Ista, and there's silence as Wulfan moves to the window, and High Reaches Lord considers his back for a time. Footsteps are near-soundless on the carpet, and his hand comes up to press on the man's shoulder. "I won't rescind it." Again, matter-of-factly, and softer, he adds, "Make sure you tell Daroda that Issedi could use her help. You'll be in my thoughts, my friend." And he retreats, walking towards the door. Wulfan doesn't follow Devaki to the door. His gaze fixes on the courtyard below. "My wife will be happy to see Issedi again. Thank you, Dev." No questions asked, wishy-washy passive-aggressions and all. "Thank you. I will see you when next the Conclave meets." "And I'll be happy to see you again," Devaki replies, without hesitation. "Until then, Fanny." There's laughter in the High Reaches Lord's voice as he uses that nickname. The door opens and shuts just as softly behind him, leaving the ex-Lord Holder to his contemplation. |
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