Logs:Children and Healers
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| RL Date: 1 September, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, Madilla |
| Involves: Healer Hall, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Irianke meets with Madilla regarding future plans. |
| Where: Madilla's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Keysi/Mentions |
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| Irianke shows up at the appointed time, conveniently upon her return from vacation. This means Madilla has the first full view of just how the last week has put strain on the goldrider's face, fatigue pulling lines that weren't there a week ago, and an odd tension laden in her shoulders. The knock is soft, reserved even, and the voice from beyond the door is unfailingly polite, if touched with tired. "Healer master?" "Come in," says Madilla from behind the door, though the friendly warmth in her expression dims, shocked and surprised, as she catches that first sight of the weyrwoman. "I--" She straightens, drawing back her shoulders, and gestures towards the empty chair on the other side of her desk. It's a small office, barely worthy of the name, but cozy. "Weyrwoman. Please, come in and sit." "I should have freshened up before I came, but time being what it was, I would rather be on time and travel wearied than clean but late." Excuses, excuses. Irianke tries to shake the tired off her face with a sharp shake of her head and settles into the empty chair, shifting from side to side until she finds an angle that is comfortable. "I'm sorry to ask, but do you have any klah? I seem to have acquired a taste for it while traveling and enjoying my vacation." The words sound hollow even to her and evokes a rueful laugh, mostly at herself. Madilla's green eyes don't seem wholly convinced by Irianke, not her excuses and not the rest. But she rises from her seat, putting a smile in place and allows, "I think I can manage that much, of course. I hope it was an enjoyable vacation. It's always nice, to get away." She busies herself with the water, the klah, keeping her hands from idleness, though much of her attention remains upon the goldrider. Irianke sits, quiet for a moment, her deep gray-blue eyes cloudy with their unfocused attention on a bookend on Madilla's desk. "Hmm?" There was conversation. It's clear she didn't actually digest most of it in that blurried look trying to look more alert that seek out the healer. "Ahh... yes, it was an enjoyable vacation. I met some old friends, slept under the stars in the desert sands like I used to when growing up, swam with shipfish." A true smile curves and the goldrider's brighter expression chases some of those clousd away. "How are you doing, Madilla? Might I call you Madilla? Would you prefer Master Madilla?" "Please do," replies Madilla. "Madilla is fine. I don't hold much to ceremony, where possible. I'm... well. Enjoying having more time at the Weyr rather than less, for the moment." At least that brighter expression she can return in kind, as she adds, "I'm glad to hear it. It sounds lovely. I feel somewhat remiss in not properly introducing myself to you sooner. It's been... a busy time." Irianke shakes her head, a hand lifted to dismiss the apology. "No, it was understandable. You are technically not a Weyr crafter, though you are a resident. It must be odd to straddle both worlds like this. I... could understand, sympathize I think. Being this far from my family has made it easier to live a Weyr life as opposed to being a goldrider under Nimae while a daughter to my father. Anyway...," the goldrider's voice trails off and she looks to the Healer Master expectantly. "It can be complicated," is Madilla's diplomatic response, albeit one made with a smile. The kettle must have been recently boiled, because it is boiling again already; the healer prepares the klah with careful hands, offering one mug to the weyrwoman before resuming her own seat. "You wished to talk speak the birthrate," she concludes. "I believe?" Irianke accepts the mug with eager, finger curled hands and draws it close to her nose to breathe in the scent. "Yes," she says, before taking a sip and sighing a small contented sigh. The placebo effect of klah so close seems to revive some of her spirits and the goldrider's eyes brighten in their regard of Madilla. "I've been studying candidacy numbers throughout Passes and Intervals and the rates of birth in the Weyr as well as general Hold and Craft regard of the Weyrs the further we get into the Pass. We were bought some time with the Comet Pass, but Interval misgivings are inevitable in my mind and I'd like to make sure the Weyr can be self- sufficient when it comes to Impressing our dragons should the need arise." Madilla presses her lips together as she sets her mug down upon the wooden surface of the desk, fingers reaching to twine about each other in lieu of the mug. "The herders," she supposes, after a moment's pause. "And I know our relationships with the Holds haven't always been uniformly possible. Assuming, on average, one clutch per turn, and that not all weyr children will seek Impression, or indeed be suited to it... I imagine it's a matter of making pregnancy as appealing a prospect as it can be, for women." One hand slides away from the other, disappearing beneath the desk, though its fingertips remain just barely visible: unconscious, she has rested it upon her abdomen. Madilla's gesture is not one Irianke misses, her eyes fleeting to those visible finger tips but flying away too quickly to be caught. "Yes, without making their Weyrwoman out to be a hypocrite," adds Irianke, frankly. "I have no plans on getting pregnant again once Niahvth rises." Without elaboration of why, the thin pressed lips and uneven breathing might say more than mere words might. "I was thinking of ways to incentivize having children, but not too many, else we can't feed them all when tithes run short. A larger stipend while pregnant and for the first two turns of the child's life? Would that be offensive?" Madilla, certainly, seems likely to be drawing conclusions of her own, though her expression holds nothing more than serious, intent interest. "I don't think so," is the healer's conclusion, after a moment's consideration. "Not so large as to imply we are paying people to be pregnant, but some kind of acknowledgement towards... their contribution to the Weyr. I might also suggest that there be a mandatory seminar for female weyrlings, towards the end of their weyrlinghood, outlining ways to manage parenthood for those who might eventually be interested in it." She pauses, teeth resting upon her lower lip. Irianke nods, her fingers twitching for something to write upon, until she finally asks, "Might you have some hide and ink to write these notes down? In my haste to come, I forgot my notebook and I'd like to review your thoughts, our thoughts later with the Weyrleader and refine them. Or training for all riders. Being male does not absolve them from being parents, though pregnancy is not an aspect they necessarily have to deal with," remarks Irianke. "Perhaps raise the base pay rate for nannies as well should more people opt to be parents, so no one lacks for child care." From within a drawer, Madilla pulls out a roll of much-used hide and some ink, sliding them across the desk towards the goldrider. She reaches for her klah, then, and allows, "That could also be of use, yes. And encourage more residents to consider being foster parents, reminding riders that they don't need to raise the children themselves, if they're so inclined. We would, I imagine, prefer not to foster children outside the Weyr, where possible." "No," the thought is rejected reflectively by Irianke, spaced from its qualifier by a long sip of klah. "I hope to speak with the harpers about creating a base contract for fostering for within and outside the Weyr that has very specific goals. I'd like to see a small percentage of our children fostered out, so people remember that there are real people who live at the Weyr. Who have a purpose in their lives, even if it might not be now, but for their future generations. To remember, to love and cherish those we love and cherish and be kind to us in the following turns. It was something else I wanted to speak with you, in particular, about, Masterhealer." Madilla's expression turns surprised, and then thoughtful, her brows knitting as she considers this information carefully. It's as she nods, slowly, that she allows, "I can see that benefit, of course." But perhaps more interesting, more surprising, is, "Something else, weyrwoman?" "I do not want the other crafts to follow suit." With the herders presumably. "I would appreciate any insight into how the Healer Hall feels about Weyrs and should that change have any suggestions for how to change craft opinion of the Weyrs. I was wondering how we might continue craft-Weyr relations, in particular, as the turns pass and wondered if the crafts might be open to more than just the accepted idea that dragonriders might dabble in their craft, but continue their studies in full even without rank." Irianke pauses, lips pursed, and a look passes down to the klah. "That was absolutely mangled. I had this pretty speech and it fell out of my head before I could even open my mouth. I hope you understood some of what I am meaning." The corners of Madilla's mouth twist upwards, and she says, "I think I do, yes. As it happens... I would suggest the Healer Hall is one of our better options, as these things go. I've spent the past two turns working to improve relations and communication between my Hall and the Weyrs, and I believe my craft would be very receptive to more formal continuation of studies. One of your recent graduates had intended to pursue that-- Keysi. I wonder if she might still be receptive, even if her initial plans have altered." "Has she?" The news surprises Irianke and the goldrider's dark hair tilts as she visibly thinks and then nods. "Keysi, brown Neianth's. She was a healer, yes, she helped bind my ankle up shortly after I arrived. Do you have any suggestions on how we might formalize this? Would you be our intermediary?" Madilla sets down her mug, the mug she's yet to actually drink from. "I'd be happy to broach the possibility with her," she says. "I understand she flies with Savannah, now, but I don't imagine that would be a barrier to her continued studies. I suppose there would need to be some kind of contract... dragonrider healers wouldn't, I imagine, be part of the normal negotiations, but separate. I can certainly speak to my superiors and hear their thoughts." "Yes. Separate. As they wouldn't be able to aspire towards a craft rank, but their training could help the Weyr in the future should...," Irianke's brief dry smile and look, concedes a future where a Weyrwoman sitting with a Healer master might not be possible. "I have yet to speak with the Weyrleader, but I did think of a craft-specific wing of dragonriders, but don't let that get around. I expect Niahvth to rise soon," shares the goldrider. "So the leadership might change in the next month or so, and it seems too much work to start all over with a new Weyrleader should there be a change so I'm waiting until the leadership situation has finalized before moving forward on any Weyr-side changes." That shared confidence draws an easily-read look to Madilla's face, one of disconcertedness and surprise. "I hadn't expected it so soon," is what she says, after a moment's pause. "But of course, that makes a great deal of sense. I will float the suggestion unofficially and see what comes of it, then. It may take me a few sevens to be in a position to travel to the Healer Hall, in any case." Irianke cannot help the way her gaze strays down to the top of Madilla's abdomen, so fleeting in its look, even more swift in its twinge of envy. Then she's looking up and flashing one of her more trademark smiles, this time imbued with the energy of a mug of caffeine. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Master Madilla. I'm sure I'll enjoy working with you in the future." The goldrider rises, the piece of hide with her scribbled notes in one hand, the mug and quill on the table, and gives the healer a respectful nod. As Irianke rises, so too does Madilla. "Thank you, weyrwoman Irianke. I'm glad to have the opportunity to assist in any way I can." Her head inclines into a nod, matching the other woman's. "Welcome home." The word home stills Irianke, her lower lip hanging at it. "Yes, thank you. It's good to be back home." Her mouth closes, her smile draws up and she exits. |
Comments
H'kon (08:31, 2 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
If only there were taxes, then you could give them tax breaks.
(I could easily make a Canadian politics joke about 'or taxable incentives' here, but I'll just leave it as this parenthetical statement.)
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