Logs:Contingency Plan
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| RL Date: 26 June, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Irianke |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Irianke and Farideh plot to take K'del out of the running for Weyrleader at High Reaches' next leadership flight. |
| Where: Irianke and Niahvth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Lilah/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, B'ren/Mentions, St'run/Mentions, C'lar/Mentions, N'chi/Mentions |
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| It's as if she'd been waiting for Farideh to traipse up the steps and go home, Irianke's head poking out of her weyr with a false sense of brightness about her smile. "Fancy seeing you here." Fancy, indeed. "Have a moment?" is asked in a way where it's clear Irianke does not particularly care if Farideh does not have a moment, especially since the goldrider ducks back into her own weyr right after asking it. Bundled up against the cold, in layers of dark, austere black, gray, and blue, Farideh's trudging movement up the steps is stilled, by Irianke's surprise greeting. She stops on the topmost step, hesitating, but after exhaling a breath, shuffles her way into the acting Weyrwoman's weyr, all the while rubbing both hands against the arms of her jacket. "Was there something--?" she poses, keeping close to the wall as she follows the other goldrider in. There's a delighted air about Irianke's face, an animation that hasn't been present in months, except when she's out of the Weyr, stripped of the heavy burden management can carry. Inside the weyr, some of the delight becomes more clear as the goldrider's table is laden with dainty little Igen treats, sweets of the spicy nature, and delicate cakes. Real cakes to satisfy the sweet tooth in anyone. "A friend sent me these from," the first moment of a half second of hesitation turns into, "Igen. Come, let's have a spot of tea, something sweet, and chat." The hesitancy remains in the younger girl's face as she walks deeper into the weyr, but when Farideh sees the assortment of Igen treats, her eyes almost bug out of her head. "All of these?" her voice a near squeak. She takes no time hurrying to the table, to hover over the collection of sweets with an eager eye, and unwind the blue scarf from around her neck. "I haven't had anything like this in--" Her next breath is a loud exhale, her eyes lifting from the table to Irianke. "Months." "Months!" confirms Irianke with gusto. Isn't it funny how much luxuries can make someone seem happier? The grin on the acting Weyrwoman's face is glowing and practically splits her face. "Go on, go on," and after the polite urges are made, the once Igen woman reaches down and plucks a cardamom cream puff out of a box and bites into it, allowing the cream to gush out the sides and grins a rather creamy smile at Farideh. Other topics, the many other topics that dance somewhere deep within her gray-blue eyes, will wait until after the younger woman has sampled the wares. It's equally as hard to pick one as it is to imagine how such a buffet of delecacies could be laid out on Irianke's table, but Farideh tries, fingers dancing in the air over the myriad offerings. She chooses a sugar-dusted, berry infused treat first, biting into it until the juices burst against her lips; she barely catches the runoff with her hand, turning a muted laugh and dancing eyes on the other woman. Delighted would be an understatement. It's always a trap. It always is, even if it is a very very pleasant and quite costly trap. The cream puff is finished in a second large bite, after which Iriane picks up one of the berry things Farideh indulged in first, nibbles on the edge to escape the fate of berry juice everywhere and comments, "You've had an eventful few weeks." But is it really a trap if the prey enjoys the snare? Unawares, Farideh busies herself licking the juice off her fingers before they can stain, retaining her delight over the smorgasbord she's been indulged with. "Hm? Oh," she says, flushing prettily, but not looking overtly embarrassed, given her hands are full of pastry. "I've-- I don't know. It's taken this long for me to-- sometimes I--" Her blush deepens, and she looks momentarily chagrined. "I wouldn't, but sometimes I wonder if I would be happier I hadn't-- come here. It's just-- it's hard, that's all," she surmises, reaching for another treat, this one filled with lemon cream. "I'm trying, harder, now." "How about we start with the Fort eventfulness first," advises Irianke, still pleasant, but how could she not be with such a feast before them. Finally, her initial curiosity about the sweets sated, she reaches for a plate and fills it with an assortment of things and takes it to the chaises near her hearth and then begins to brew a pot of tea in some delicate porcelainware. Hazel eyes follow the other goldrider, between delicate bites. "I went to Fort with J'vain. I ended up in the galleries. Weyrwoman Lilah was there. We talked, about the eggs. She's-- set that they'll end up badly, especially the one they think is a gold egg? She has decided it will be deformed. I-- tried to cheer her up about it, but she, got defensive, and then I-- said something things I shouldn't have. K'del was right to ground me," Farideh summarizes, averting her eyes at the end. "Was he?" questions Irianke of Farideh, though not necessarily of K'del's decision itself. "I mean, don't get me wrong. It's refreshing to see the two of you agree on something for once," begins Irianke, a twinkle in her dark blue eyes, "But what exactly did you say, Farideh, that you should not have said?" Hot water, tea leaves, some dried citrus rinds, some sweetener all in a pot and the pot onto the table. Then the goldrider takes a seat, sliding her long legs along the chaise and reclining with a happy sigh as the plate of goodies is brought into the crook of her hip. Somewhere between ogling and picking out pastries, Farideh managed to make it to her knees on the floor, and now, under Irianke's question, she sits back on her heels, picking apart the last bits of her latest acquisition. "Yes," is rueful, her cheeks still ruddy, "I said-- she said-- she implied something was wrong with her dragon, and that bad things always happen and-- I told her no, but that made her mad, so I--" She's clearly embarrassed and hesitant to even say it out loud, to Irianke anyway. "I told her what she wanted to hear. That-- they would be-- like that." Her brow furrows and she stares down, unseeing, at the desserts. "I shouldn't have. I was frustrated and I opened my mouth when I should have smiled instead." Was Irianke expecting more than this? There's a very short astonished silence where the goldrider is staring at Farideh half-expectant, half-something else entirely. Then, an enlightened, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh," finally escapes. "So you first told her the platitudes she did not want and then you went to the entirely opposite end of the spectrum and told her everything she was saying herself back at her. Oh. I see." A chili and chocolate bar is shoved into her mouth to chew on. "Yes," Farideh replies, popping the rest of her last treat in her mouth, and leaning back, bracing her weight with her hands. "I shouldn't have," she repeats, "I knew better, but I didn't care, not then, not when she was--" Shaking her head, she goes quiet, watching Irianke, obviously expecting some kind of censor or rebuke from the older woman. Forced mildness represses the laughter that dances in her eyes. Her mouth is kept busy with the chili and chocolate and her hands work themselves by pouring out two cups of tea. "Is the Fortian junior a sensitive sort?" "I'm not entirely sure. I would say-- the times I've seen her-- yes? Before this last, I was there right after her dragon had clutched, and she got into an argument with the sire's rider in the galleries," Farideh answers slowly, quietly. "Mostly, before that, I've only met her off and on, and we had some pleasant conversations, and others, she's awfully attached to and sensitive about that gambling den they've created." "I've met her once. She was agreable then, but it was only one meeting and we didn't discuss much of anything important or deep. Certainly," remarks Irianke, "Nothing quite so deep and emotional as her dragon's clutch. She's the goldrider whose dragon flew too early, forced some say, and did not produce a clutch?" She knows, that much is clear, but still she asks this of Farideh. "Hmm." A slight nod precedes, "Yes. She's the one, and she's-- convinced, that now, somehow, since that happened, her dragon will never have a reliable clutch." Farideh's lips purse, but she's still watching Irianke, still looking as though she's waiting for the other shoe to drop. "It's unfortunate K'del saw fit to punish you for something that seems, to me, quite trivial. However, how much of that was for Weyr relations and diplomacy, I'm not entirely sure. You and he don't see eye to eye on so many things and I've heard he and Lilah are quite close." This is how rumors get started. Irianke shakes her head, waving it off and says, "I don't plan on undermining K'del's authority by ungrounding you just yet, but I will speak to him tomorrow evening. Have you tried the vanilla cake with the rainbow sprinkles over there? Be a dear and get me one of those tiny little squares. Well, four of them." "It might be trivial now, but I-- need to be careful with what I say. He was right. Now, everything I say, or do, does, reflect back on the Weyr," is sullen, but she snaps back to attention a moment later, frowning at Irianke from across the table of sweets. "Are they? I don't-- I didn't-- oh." Someone's just had a revelation, it would seem. "No, I haven't." But Farideh's at least obedient to Irianke for now, if no one else, and dutifully grabs four of the tiny squares, which she presents to the other goldrider soon thereafter; then she perches on one of the other chaises. Irianke flexes her feet, looking at her bare toes and then down to the sweets on her plate, sweeping that gaze up to finally look at Farideh. "Don't beat yourself up over it. If you were Weyrwoman and said that to a junior, she would have to suck it up and go cry into her pillow. The fact Lilah decided to make it a cross-Weyr incident by weeping to her friend says more about her than about what you said personally. But yes," the goldrider concedes, "How you behave does, in fact, reflect on your Weyr. But not just you. All riders do to a degree." One of those colorful rainbow cakes is lifted and popped into her mouth, a look of pure happy, not just happiness, suffusing her face with color. "I've missed cakes." Farideh wrinkles her nose, but remains pointedly silent on talk of Fort's junior and whom she called a favor in to. "I miss sun," she grouses, flopping back against the chaise, her hand on her stomach, which is likely sufficiently full given the amount of pastries she shoved in her mouth. "And the sand, the heat, the liveliness of Igen. It's not the same here, not even the desserts." Her eyes shift onto Irianke, inquisitive. "How have you been faring with K'del? I suppose he doesn't come stomping into your weyr, yelling and waving his arms around like the place is on fire." "No. But I also don't make most people cry." Irianke replies, the smile hovering about her mouth made all the more charming by a sprinkle caught at corner. "Though, speaking of K'del," the goldrider says, the smile fading and her gaze drifting back to the cakes like this is an unpleasant subject for her, one she'd much rather avoid but cannot. "I'd like to start work with you and Roszadyth in controlling other dragons beyond the little you do in a dragonhealing capacity." "I didn't make Lilah cry," Farideh protests, but the subject change gains a frown and a furrowing of her brow, head semi-lifting from the chaise so she can stare more purposefully at Irianke. "We would enjoy that-- I'm sure you and Niahvth could teach us a lot-- but what does that have to do with-- you're not inviting him along too are you?" She sounds positively stricken by the idea, and completely oblivious to the weyrwoman's real meaning. Skipping over the metaphorical crying bit, Irianke expels breath, tipping her head back into her cushion and looking ot the ceiling. "I think K'del is a very nice person and has done what he could for the Weyr, but dividing his personal life between two areas still does not sit well with me. A fling, sure. Girlfriends, fine. But an entire family that he clearly dotes on. If Niahvth rises first, I will need to trust that Roszadyth is capable of keeping him grounded." Farideh's breath comes out in more of a woosh, as she too lays her head back and ponders the possibilities of those implications. "I understand. It is hard for me to accept-- I understand that he, perhaps, has these feelings, but why can't he-- go there? Be Weyrleader there? He can't be tied to a big rock more than his family-- he can't--" She sighs, turning her head to look at Irianke again. "I wouldn't. Give up my family like that. Not if I could be with them, and--" Then, she's hesitant, picking at the fabric of her shirt. "Do you think we'll be ready by then? What if it's tomorrow? A month from now? A turn?" "He seems honestly torn between duty and family. I chose duty and often wonder what would have happened had I chosen family instead, but never was both an option for me. Niahvth isn't a Reaches gold and Cadejoth may not find it as easy to catch, but if it happens tomorrow, a month from now, a turn, we'll manage. If he becomes Weyrleader again, we'll manage. But nothing, Farideh, nothing outside of this weyr." Warning hangs heavy in Irianke's warm Igen voice. "And if Roszadyth rises first, and it is your desire, we will make sure to keep him grounded." "No, both isn't an option," Farideh agrees, glumly at that. "I wouldn't-- I won't-- it's between us. Roszadyth and I will do what we need to. We will keep Cadejoth from catching as best we can." She's vehement, and gives her chin a little jerk down for emphasis, to match the deeply etched frown she wears. "I don't want him either. Not even if she rises second." Half turning to the side, she studies Irianke. "Do you have any prospects to replace him?" Seemingly unaware of Farideh's glumness with regards to the options afforded a leader, Irianke focuses on the final question. "What do you think of B'ren, St'run, or C'lar?" "B'ren is old," is unsurprising, "I don't think I know who St'run is, but C'lar, isn't he scared of his own shadow? That's what I heard. I don't think that I've-- I've only ever met B'ren, not from-- afar, or anything." Farideh chews on the inside of her lip. "Do you think they'd be better options than K'del?" "He is and his bronze has never chased in a senior flight before. So it's not clear whether Kamornth could outmaneuver Cadejoth. And yes," Irianke allows with a small smile, "He is significantly older." But something of her expression and what she does not say implies she thinks or knows that age ain't nothing but a number. "There's also N'chi, and," a few other bronzeriders are ticked off. "I'd prefer someone very stable in his ties to High Reaches Weyr if we mean to replace K'del. I like the idea of B'ren. Hailstorm is an interesting wing that he manages deftly." "If that's who you think would be best," Farideh says, quietly. "Cadejoth's caught nearly every senior flight since he was shelled, right? I don't know how anyone can beat those odds if they haven't before, if he's not-- grounded." She takes a moment to think, to pluck some more at the string on the front of her shirt. "Does Niahvth usually prefer someone before? Does she-- or does she pick-- how does she pick?" Seemingly self-satisfied with the idea of B'ren, the sentiment lingers in a smug set on Irianke's shapely mouth. She reaches for another cake and munches it idly, while listening to Farideh speak and then looks up, sharply and suddenly a little perplexed. "I... Would you believe that the last time Niahvth rose is the first time I wasn't given orders on who should win our flights?" "Really?" Farideh looks surprised, her mouth forming a small 'o' before she speaks again. "Is that normal? Do you-- are you going to tell me who should win? And how do you-- plan that? I thought, I know, they can have preferences, but even then-- even if they did, it's whomever is the fastest? Strongest?" She presses her lips together, turning to head to stare at the ceiling. "Not precisely who, but," Irianke looks at Farideh levelly. "Junior goldriders at Igen were strongly encouraged towards brown dragons as clutch sires. It helped control the number of clutching golds at the Weyr as well as kept clutches smaller. Igen isn't a very large Weyr, you have to understand and our coverage area isn't as bountiful in as many ways as High Reaches' can be. I..." The acting Weyrwoman pauses and sets down the tart she was about to bite into. "I cannot tell you who should win your flight, particularly if your dragon rises first." Farideh listens respectfully, and when Irianke is finished, tilts her head back towards her. "Would it be better for High Reaches, if a brown won Roszadyth's? Not-- if she rises first, but if she's second." She leans up on one elbow and scoots to vertically again, running one hand through her disheveled hair. "I have experience with these things-- experience with that works the best. I want to do what-- you think works the best, in favor of High Reaches, short of letting Cadejoth catch, of course." "I..." She's thought of it, that much is clear. But Irianke hesitates. "Let's cross that bridge when we get there. Would you like to take some sweets back with you? Perhaps share them with some friends?" It's not direct, her relief, but Farideh definitely seems glad to be switching to a less intense topic. "Are you sure? Your friend got them for you. I don't want to take away any gifts," except she's staring wistfully over at the table piled with sweets. "He sent more than enough to satisfy my sweet tooth and some of the finer cakes will go dry and stale before they can be gotten to. Take some. Share the wealth. Just not all of the cream puffs right there." Irianke adds, gesturing to the cardamom puffs she tried out first. Not the cardamom cream puffs -- Farideh's eyes survey the scene, and then she's on the move, opening her scarf, once forgotten on the floor, to hoarde away sweet treats. "Thank you," she manages to get out between shoving squares and finger cakes in the fabric. "And we're practice, really hard. We'll do it. We can-- for High Reaches." "We'll start tomorrow, an hour each morning after your morning drills." Irianke says, "Before the meeting with the headwomen. Does that work for you?" "Yes. That works out well. I-- thank you," Farideh says, tying up her package of sweets and cakes, with a bright smile for Irianke. "I'll let you-- enjoy?" is filled with laughter. She gives a waggle of her fingers and sets back out, into the cold, but only for the distance it takes to get to her own weyr and warm respite. |
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Comments
K'del (02:02, 27 June 2015 (MDT)) said...
B'REN? You would replace me with B'REN? *SIGH*
Faryn (03:01, 27 June 2015 (MDT)) said...
Oh, dear.
Edyis (23:10, 27 June 2015 (MDT)) said...
I am again reminded how scary Irianke is.
Alida (01:27, 28 June 2015 (MDT)) said...
I can't say that Alida would be the least bit surprised to hear this, if she were a fly on the wall. She tends to see plans/webs/conspiracies more often than not. ;P ;)
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