Logs:Changing Fate
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| RL Date: 13 March, 2013 |
| Who: Devaki, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, High Reaches Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Devaki and Azaylia take a walk around the bowl and talk. Mostly about Hana. |
| Where: Empty Junior Queen's Weyr/Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Braeden/Mentions, Hana/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions |
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| Empty Junior Queen's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Turns of inclement weather and use have smoothed out niches here and there for a current occupant and perhaps a companion, on this slightly downward impressed ledge. It's otherwise unremarkable: large, of course, and low to the ground, though not so low as to provide ground access from here. Being so low, the view is not especially spectacular, though it does make an excellent point from which to keep a steady eye on goings on in the bowl, from the living caverns entrance to the north, and as far as glimpses of glimmering blue on the horizon from the weyr lake. A short tunnel and a shorter set of stairs leading up from the ledge reveal a weyr that, despite being obviously unused at present, has been well maintained, much of the furniture in it still in good shape. Unusually, there are no separate chambers in this Weyrwoman's weyr, the bedroom and bath only made distinct by two walls that rise three-quarters to the ceiling. In the main area, the hearth sits near the tunnel from the ledge, decorated with a square pattern of ruddy bricks along the floor, which rise into a decorative arch above, the mantel stretching from one end to the other. While hardly new, a comfortable looking olivine couch sits in front of the hearth, on a patch of floor that was probably once covered in a rug of some kind. Towards the opposite end of the room sits a round, stone table with a set of cushioned chairs; next to this is a utilitarian bookshelf, currently empty. To the east is a tunnel that leads down towards the Weyrleaders' Complex. The bedroom section of the weyr contains a full-sized bed, void of anything other than a simple mattress, and a wardrobe. Finely polished wood has been used for both, though they are simple and unornamented, with only their delicately built curves to really indicate their quality. Just across from the bedroom, behind the other three-quarter wall, is a small, elevated stone bath that is built into the walls. Ancient plumbing makes sure there will be hot water when needed and though no vanity exists, a single built-in shelf is carved out just above the tub. Hung on the half-finished wall is a slightly warped mirror. For now, dustcovers protect most of the furniture, and the glow-lamps remain unfilled, clear signs that it has been some time since the last occupant. The previous day, Issedi invited Azaylia over for a lovely afternoon tea, during which the Lady expressed delight about being at the Weyr, but also excitement to be returning home after the Hatching(s). There might have been some brief talk about Devaki's work on the road being almost finished, and near the end, a casual remark about her husband having enjoyed tea with the Weyrwoman the other day, and that he'd expressed a sentiment to meet with her the next evening on some matter of business. The ladies having left for their evening constitutional around the Weyr's inner caverns, Devaki's by himself -- not even Vinien tonight. The hearth burns merrily, casting warmth across the cavernous space; Devaki's standing by the hearthside, hands folded behind his back. Whether mere coincidence or out of a need to look her best for the visiting Lord, Azaylia is freshly scrubbed and carries a subtle earthy scent with her. In the same dress as before, it's a testament to just how her wardrobe differs from Lady Issedi's. "Devaki." She greets gently, not meaning to startle. The weyrwoman lingers at the entrance just long enough to be polite before easy strides bring her further inside. There's a quick look around, eyes aimed mostly at the floor as she obviously expects to see a blond boy scooting around. She'll come to a stop some distance from the hearth, not wanting to crowd the man. No sign (noise?) of Vinien, but then maybe he's hiding? "Azaylia," Devaki returns in kind, turning from the hearth, smiling in welcome -- pausing briefly as his gaze flickers over her outfit, before he strides over to welcome her in, closing the distant between them. "I'm glad you could come. Did you want to take a turn around the bowl, or is it too cold out already?" Smiles beget smiles, and Azaylia's is warm and welcoming as she helps to banish the distance with a few more steps. "It looks like it might rain soon," Which means the temperature has risen just enough to keep even more snow at bay. "If we don't go too far I'm sure we'll be fine." Hands self consciously smooth over her skirt after his quick inspection, "Issedi mentioned something about business?" She turns, half-cocked towards the bowl, waiting to see if Devaki might change his mind about that walk. Devaki doesn't seem about to change his mind, though he does pause to pick up his coat, folding it over his arm, before he offers the other to Azaylia. "Yes," he acknowledges, with a shift of shoulders, "But first -- I'd much rather hear you talk. Tell me about the eggs -- are they due to hatch soon? How is your dragon faring?" Azaylia shouldn't look so surprised when Devaki offers his arm, only a moment of hesitation until she accepts with a gracious nod. "You would?" Not that the weyrwoman needs much encouragement when it comes to either topic. "Soon." She confirms, "I just don't know how soon. It seems like Hraedhyth is getting even more protective each day." Which means that the galleries tend to be off limits even more than usual as of late. "Other than that, she's fine. We're both excited. It's our first clutch." From the way she tells it, the goldrider might as well have clutched half of those eggs herself. Quiet voice carries some of that excitement even now, as well as pride. There's a sidelong look, and a grin from Devaki. "Why wouldn't I be? You were so good with Vinien the other day, it's only fair I return the favor." Not that he's suggesting he cradle any eggs anytime soon, mind. In fact, she'd probably be hard pressed to remember anytime at which he's gone to view the eggs in person. He's silent for a moment as he leads the way down the ledge, stepping carefully to avoid any chance of slipping. "My lady wife is very much looking forward to it, too. She hasn't had the pleasure before. And I believe there's two or three of ours in your barracks; Lord Braeden has written he plans to come, barring unforeseen circumstances." Azaylia has enough of a mind to curb some of that enthusiasm, eyes falling to watch their steady steps. "I'm glad that this is her first hatching. It's special, what with two queens on the sands." Considering it's an Interval. The chill of the air doesn't seem to bother her even without a cloak, seasonal dress and leggings providing enough warmth for now. "It's going to be a wonderful feast. I hope you'll enjoy it?" He's spoken of his wife and the Lord Holder, but it's obvious the goldrider is curious about her present company. "Are you looking forward to going home, afterward?" Devaki doesn't much seem to mind the enthusiasm, glancing at her sidelong as they walk. "Home is where the heart is," the exile Lord says, with a grimace at the patness of it, "So the Harpers say. But yes, I'll be glad to be getting home. Not to say that I don't appreciate the hospitality -- we do -- but there's something to be said for sleeping in your own bed." Three steps pass before he adds in a slightly lower voice -- not that there's anyone near enough to hear, "I have a favor to ask of you." "I understand." As much as Azaylia is capable. High Reaches Weyr is her home after all, and it doesn't take much to see that her heart is firmly nestled within. "A favor?" Head lifts as brown eyes search his face, light voice but a murmur, "What can I do for you?" It's an offer as well as a question, genuinely curious as to what he might have in mind. Slowing, then finally stopping, Devaki gently unhooks Azaylia's hand from his arm -- only so that he can shake out the coat draped over his arm, moving to settle it around her shoulders. Only once that's done does he continue: "It's for Hana, actually. Her parents -- well, they have lofty ideals, given how well she's fared with my lady wife. They've a mind to find her a match with a cousin of Lady Yuliye's, and while I'd be the first to encourage a Holder to do their duty, Hana is not Blooded." A pause, briefly, while he collects his thoughts. "You and she seem to have gotten on well. I was hoping perhaps you'd be willing to take her on as an assistant, or... do weyrwoman have ladies in waiting?" The islander isn't sure, to judge by the slight shift of shoulders, and he doesn't linger on that point, anyway. "It would be hard for her parents to argue with such an illustrious posting, and it would give her the time she... needs, away from their eyes." He fixes on her eyes, measuring her reaction, as he adds, "I'd look on it as a... personal favor." Any objections Azaylia might have for stealing his coat are silenced once it's on, her words dissolving into meek gratitude. "Thank you." Strong fingers grasp at the material, pulling it tighter as Devaki speaks. As he pauses, "She's told me a bit about that. I didn't know that they were still trying." The word is stressed, pinned down by something vaguely protective. When the Lord seems to make in personal, her jaw takes on a thoughtful tilt while the weyrwoman's gaze remains steady. She's careful not to offend with the question that follows, "Is this what Hana wants? Or..?" What he thinks is best for the woman. Despite her best efforts, she realizes how that must sound, "I'm sorry. I don't know if weyrwomen have ladies in waiting, but I'm sure I could do something for her." "They are particularly... determined," Devaki tries for neutral, but can't quite manage it, sympathy audible there for Hana's situation. It's when she asks if it's what Hana wants that he goes rigid at what's implied with the question, expression flickering to something politely distant as his gaze shifts somewhere over her shoulder. "It's what she wants," he says, levelly, "Though you're welcome to ask her, if you don't believe me." A beat only, then he adds stiffly, "I appreciate it, weyrwoman." Azaylia's eyes close in a slow wince, lips thinning for a moment. "I'm sorry." She apologizes again, embarrassment only just beginning to fade. "It's not that I don't believe you, De-- Lord Devaki." There's a moment where she tries to find his gaze once more, leaving the man's distant stare when she's unable to. "I like Hana. I just wanted to make sure that if I helped, it wouldn't accidentally hurt her." With a soft nod she muses out loud, "I can take her on as my... assistant? Something with hair and clothing. Maybe light, easy errands." The weyrwoman doesn't sound exactly comfortable with any of that, but she's willing. For Hana. "And I want the same thing," Devaki says, after a pause. "I only want the best for my people -- that's my duty, as a Blood. I'd have thought you -- of all people -- might understand that." Blue eyes finally move back to settle on Azaylia expression, as if trying to determine just whether there's understanding there. Finally, a nod for Azaylia's latter comment, "She would welcome that. Isse, though--" a brief grimace. "I'd hope you'd be willing to keep counsel on this for the time being. My lady wife is similarly fond of Hana, but is less likely to be pleased at this arrangement. I'm planning to tell her as late as possible, preferably after we leave." Azaylia looks to be properly chastised, even if that isn't his intent. Her lips part to possibly apologize a third time when a not-so distant consciousness decides that enough is enough. "I do understand." Less so about needing to lie to Issedi, and judging from her torn expression it doesn't sit well with her. It'll take a moment for her to adjust, "She... can always find another lady in waiting." One who isn't looking for a way to escape unwarranted responsibilities. With a slow exhale, "Alright. I can do this. I will." It's a promise. Devaki seems far more mollified by her understanding than by her apologies, if the release of tension from his shoulders is anything to judge by -- not to mention the warmer cast to his demeanor and the grin that follows. "She'll understand," the exile Lord assures the goldrider. "Though I'm sure she'll angst about finding the perfect replacement afterward." After a beat, he lifts a hand and offers it palm-upwards to her, as if to seal the promise. "Thank you," he says, with genuine sentiment, "Azaylia." "If I find any talented girls in the lower caverns who might be interested..." Azaylia offers, and it will take some time for that guilt to fade. Her palm rests atop his, fingers giving a firm squeeze, "You're welcome, Devaki." And though he's not the Lord Holder, "Weyr and Hold shouldn't be strangers when it comes to working together." It seems the weyrwoman does have her own beliefs as far as cooperative leadership goes. "You aren't too cold, are you? I don't want you getting sick." Issedi needs to stop throwing her voice. "And have to train them from scratch? Thank you, but -- it's probably best to search amongst the Holders. Different sensibilities, you understand," Devaki explains, without apology. His fingers clasp over hers, however, warm, and accompanied by a smile that's just as warm. "There are certainly benefits such an arrangement," he allows, still loosely holding her hand, moving to tuck it into the curve of his arm, prompted by her question to start moving again, though not particularly fast. "I grew up on the Island. We hadn't the luxury of things like coats and furs. Or shoes," he adds, with a laugh. "I remember it was winter when they first brought us here -- I couldn't wear shoes. They felt too -- strange. I used to get lots of looks. All of us did," he amends, after a moment, expression becoming thoughtful. The "Oh." that leaves Azaylia is one of surprise rather than insult, seeing sense enough in his words not to argue. As if she ever would. On Devaki's arm once again, the goldrider keeps to the unhurried pace he sets, "I forget. Not that you're from the Island, but that some aren't always sunny and warm like Ista." It's enough to ease the concern she has for his health. "I arrived on almost the same day as you all, though I was just a transfer from Beastcraft. I remember thinking the Islanders," Exiles at the time. "Were so different. It caused a few misunderstandings." Not terribly unlike their most recent one. The interest she shows in his accounts from the Island is born of more than manners, careful not to let curiosity overstep any boundaries. "More rock than beach," Devaki says, of his Island, and yet there's an odd note of wistfulness that probably sneaks out without intention. "But it was home." She surprises him, then, earning a sharp look from the blond man, "I don't... remember you," he says, with a note of apology. "But the whole thing was... overwhelming. For... both sides, I imagine," the concession is offered, though there's perhaps reluctance about it all the same, like an old wound he's loathe to prod at. It's with an understanding smile and a small shake of her head that Azaylia says, "What is there to remember? I was an Apprentice. One out of... a lot." There's no attempt to remind him of any past conflicts, so it's safe to assume that there were none between Devaki and herself. Sensing that reluctance, the goldrider does her best to steer the conversation towards easier topics during their walk. Devaki, too, seems keen to stay on easy topics through the rest of their walk, inquiring on some of the candidates and their prospects, on suggestions of a Turnday present for Issedi, and any other number of comfortable topics. When he finally escorts Azaylia to her weyr, he lingers long enough to collect his coat, bid her a warm farewell, and continue to his own. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Changing Fate"Hana (Hana (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 14 Mar 2013 14:39:37 GMT.
/cracks knuckles.
So much work.
The question is... Zay - or one of those promising weyrbrats just to mess with my family.....
Brieli (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 14 Mar 2013 20:36:28 GMT.
Hana! Burn the dress, I'll pay you!!
Hana (Hana (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 15 Mar 2013 16:03:38 GMT.
There are plans... oh yes... there will be plans... but are they your plans... hm. I shall have to think about this while I gather up all my dots.
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