Logs:Civil
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| RL Date: 26 March, 2014 |
| Who: Aishani, H'kon |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A weyrwoman and a brownrider are not rude to each other. |
| Where: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 5, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Madilla/Mentions |
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| Records Room, High Reaches Weyr No rainfall today, but it's not precisely fabulous weather either this afternoon, so the records room has its usual assortment of scribes, harpers and staff working away quietly. Aishani is unsurprisingly amongst them, one of the usual suspects, as it were. She has a table towards the back today to herself, where she's set up with the usual hide work, yes - piles of it off to the side - but also a few maps spread out that she's currently taking notes on, dark curls draped over one shoulder like a curtain. It's the wrong map, the one H'kon has found. The right area, certainly, but the wrong details. More checking on that shelf brings another wrong one. And one that is so wrong it's not even close to being right. It makes his eyebrows pull together, communing in their shared annoyed disappointment at his inability to carry on his task. It makes him go to one of the usual records keepers there, has him murmuring a question. And all this... brings the eyes beneath those fearsome brows to Aishani. His feet are soon to follow, his face resigned to a look of grim determination. Shani's map... maps, rather - are all of Crom, including the one H'kon would like, presumably. It's not the brows she senses glowering down on her, but the footsteps coming near that she hears - at least, seemingly by the arch of her own fine brows. The goldrider doesn't look up until she's finished writing her last note, then does so with a cool polite expression that doesn't change for the brownrider. "H'kon," she greets. "What can I do for you?" Other than drop dead. "Weyrwoman," H'kon answers, the usual formality no colder than just that: usual. The gaze that he'd kept strictly trained off and to the side, well away from her note, is shifted carefully to meet that polite expression. A quick nod is all he uses to declare his intentions to get to the point, and leave her be. That, and then the actual getting: "I need only know how long you mean to be with the maps." He doesn't bother indicating them, nor even looking at them. Maybe she's supposed to know. "All of the maps?" Aishani gestures over the spread of them with a flick of her hand, then flipping her notebook closed after. "Mm. I'm not sure, so if you're desperate to look at them, you might as well go ahead." She sighs tragically, such sacrifices she must make for the good of the Weyr. The notebook is placed on her chair after she stands to start rolling them up; her striped dress is short enough to give H'kon and anyone watching a good look at almost all of her legs while she does it, not that he appreciates it. "I hope Arekoth is well." That's debatable too, but at least she's civil. "I've a great deal I mean to accomplish in this day." Words spoken tensely, but certainly not a sign of desperation. The very idea must be what's making him frown. Now. As Aishani stands, the brownrider distracts his gaze once more, focused up and away on nothing in particular, hands clasping behind his back, waiting. "He is." It is, apparently, not a violation of that waiting stance for H'kon to give a quick nod. "Our regards to Iesaryth." That part, at least, is probably genuine. If the brownrider won't look, lots of other guys will. Though it really doesn't take very long for Aishani to gather and roll the maps and slide them back into their case. As she does though, she has to ask, "Oh? What are your plans for the day?" She straightens, holding the map case as if she might withhold it until H'kon gives her a satisfactory answer, but then.... eventually... holds it out anyway. "I'll pass them on. Do say hello to Madilla for me as well. I know she's awfully busy these days." She grins a little, amused by something. H'kon looks back toward Aishani only once that first map she's had is safely encased. And then, even as she finishes, his hands stay firmly behind his back. "Wing business." 'None of your concern,' is voiced only in that slight undercurrent in his tone. "Care for my lifemate. What might be expected." His jaw tenses up when she speaks the Weyrhealer's - his Weyrhealer's - name. "I will do so." The undercurrent is barely kept under, this time. And only after he's answered, only then does he reach for those maps she's holding out, with a nod of acknowledgement. "Ahhh. Wing business." Aishani nods as if enlightened, noting, "There seems to be a lot of secret 'wing business' going on lately." She gives up the maps without a tug of war, and if her grin widens a bit at H'kon's jaw tensing, well. That would be because she's not a very nice person sometimes, and she finds all this awfully entertaining. "Thank you," she replies politely, even so. "I appreciate that. I know how it is to have family concerns outweigh others." A pause. "If you finish with those before the end of the day, let me know?" She's already packing her things up though, moving on to something else after. "It is no secret, Weyrwoman. Just a matter of sweeps. A matter to fall beneath the Weyrleader, or acting Weyrleader's, jurisdiction, but not secret." Those maps are tucked securely under his arm. "She has not misperformed any of her duties to the Weyr on account of family. Nor shrunk from them. I should hope you would be careful not to misspeak." That element of his tone is rising. He takes a breath, forces it back down, and it is more controlled when he states, flatly, "I will. By Arekoth, if necessary." "Mm, well. You might be the only one." Then arching one fine brow, "Social. Social concerns." Aishani looks at H'kon for a moment, then just shakes her head. "So quick to take offense. The Weyrhealer is the only person I trust for certain things." And that says something, whatever the brownrider might think of the goldrider. She affects her tragic sigh again, gathering up her notes into her arms. So sad. So maligned. It's hard to be her, really. "If you're working in here, do take the table." He had an answer; it's bitten back, squished between his molars as he tenses and relaxes his jaw muscles once more. "Indeed." To secret meetings. To social concerns. To Madilla? "The Weyrhealer has earned the trust that so many place in her." There's no sympathy in those eyebrows, or anywhere else, for all those sighs, all that difficulty she so clearly experiences. H'kon stands straight, and watches her, only. "I've set out my own workspace already." Maybe that was the goodbye? He certainly wouldn't dare dismiss a weyrwoman. Not even Aishani. With a smirk, "Of course you have." Aishani gives a little wave with a wiggle of her fingers, and leaves H'kon to stew in his own irritation, walking off to the council chambers and presumably to her weyr. Is that laughter? Maybe it was the wind. |
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