Logs:Deal or No Deal
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| RL Date: 30 May, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Another meeting between weyrleaders results in discussion about hatchings, flights, deals, and wayward goldriding weyrlings. |
| Where: Empty Weyrwoman's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 12, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aughan/Mentions, Devaki/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Tevrane/Mentions |
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| Weekly cleanings keeps the dust at bay from the Weyrwoman's weyr. A bottle of brandy and one glass sits on the table by the couches, its sister glass held in Irianke's hand. First to arrive, the acting Weyrwoman cradles the glass to her cheek as the page turner she reads through quickly has her smiling periodically. With no fire in the hearth, someone's thoughtfully left a pile of furs on either of the chairs in the weyr. She is under one of them. Cadejoth's not been at Southern, today, nor anywhere else, but he's still later than anticipated in his arrival, wind-chapped cheeks and messy hair-- not to mention the fact that Cadejoth's only just landed upon his ledge-- suggesting a late-night head-clearing flight. "Sorry," he says, genuinely apologetic as he shakes snow off of his boots and onto the mat by the door, keeping his coat on against the chilly air. "We needed the air." "Did you?" Irianke looks up from her book long enough to take in the wind-chapped cheeks and mussed hair. It is closed and placed on the empty couch next to her and both hands move to cradle her glass. A moment later, the goldrider asks with a solemnly quiet, "Fort?" "Fort," allows K'del after a moment's pause, acknowledging the incident with solemnity and perhaps the faintest hint of something else. Is he unsure? Sorrowful? Something. He crosses towards the goldrider, sitting down in the other chair, though he promptly leans forward for glass and brandy both. "I'm glad I wasn't there, but it makes me feel ill to know some of our weyrlings were." The day's end smudged ring of kohl about Irianke's eyes lifts, aware of that something else but unable to pinpoint it precisely. She ventures, "You're... melancholy," in a tone somewhere between a question and a statement. "Afraid?" This is a little more uncertain. The rest of K'del's concerns she leaes Niahvth to reassure with a touch to the Weyrleader's dragon and a subdued, « I am looking after them should they... » even the queen's brightness falters and her mental touch trails off. Cadejoth's reply comes with the rattle of chains, and a hint, too, of the chain mesh of his thoughts: all the Weyr, all connected, all protected. He's relieved; he's also sure. Their dragons are safe. His rider busies himself with his glass, gaze dropped towards it rather than focusing on the woman across from him. "Afraid? No. Not afraid. Unsettled, perhaps." His eyes lift. "It raises... it just makes you think, I suppose. How these things happen. Why." "It happens," says Irianke, voice quiet still in spite of her pragmatism, "When dragons lack choices and cannot find a suitable mind to matches theirs." The woman curls her feet tighter beneath her furs, the thought, however practical, not meshing well with emotions. A deep breath is taken in and then is unheard in its slower, controlled exhale. "Do we know why Fort limited their Search to within their caverns?" "Mm," says K'del, acknowledging pragmatism without letting go of his own emotions. He stares at his drink, then sips at it, before commenting on the rest; as he does, his gaze lifts again. "No," he admits. "I've no idea. We've not sent out Search wings, officially, in turns, but it's not generally a matter of prohibiting the way they did." What she is about to say starts with an, "I-" but doesn't get much further than that. Irianke leans forward, her elbows balanced on her cross-legged, beneath the fur, knees. "We're thirty-seven turns into the Interval with a random series of Falls that have kept the Holds on their toes just a few turns ago. It's a problem I've thought of since," the goldrider's gaze flicks out the door and then back to K'del, apology laden in them, "Our esteemed Weyrlingmaster tried to stop people from Searching or accepting Search. It is, however, true. We cannot count on relying on our coverage area to be eternally grateful until the next Pass arrives. Memories are short." K'del's wince for mention of Quinlys is, at least, only momentary. He draws his foot up to rest atop the opposite knee, leaning backwards as he considers Irianke's words; his nod is the only immediate reply. "We've been strategic, in the past," he says. "Avoiding areas where... where relations have been less than ideal. On one hand, you'd think holder children Impressing ought to build relations, but... it doesn't, not always. But can we sustain ourselves with only the weyrbred? Fort seems to imply 'no.'" "And our relations now?" Irianke avoids the question of sustainability of the lower caverns for the moment. "Is there anything I should know of Searching within our coverage areas?" "Neutral, for the most part," is K'del's prompt answer; that's easy. "I'd be careful about taking too many from Tillek or High Reaches, but it's not at the point where I'd actively avoid altogether. Tevrane has been happy to receive us. Aughan..." A shrug. "As long as we don't take Bloods, even minor Bloods, or too many from any one place, I don't see it as a significant problem at the moment." "Children somewhere will always dream of riding dragons," remarks Irianke, between sips of her brandy. "Whether a dragonrider rides officially or not, there will always be those who seek a better life and hope it is at a Weyr." World's worst conscription plan ever. "We should begin limiting our gold flights." It's just tossed out there, the weyrwoman looking only at K'del as she speaks, watchful and waiting. K'del acknowledges that with a hint of ruefulness that acknowledges his own past. It's that last comment, thrown out like that, that has him straightening his posture. "Browns only?" Beat. "That's what Nimae does, isn't it." "She tries. It doesn't always work," acknowledges Irianke. "But beyond that, we encourage our golds and greens to try and fly as long and high as possible. I believe we should speak with the weyrlingmasters and teach a different line for the time being. So much of flights are out of our immediate control, and so much is the instinct of..." A beast? A dragon? Someone not quite human? "Instinct. But we could try and train our goldriders to not fly as high? Not fly as long?" "Let them eat instead of blood?" It's the semi-logical next step, though K'del's obviously uncertain about it; his cheeks have turned slightly pink, and it has nothing to do with the brandy in his hand, or the wind and snow outside. Irianke purses her lips, setting her drink down on the table and clasping her hands together instead. "Eating could be dangerous. Dragons still need some height from the ground not to plummet to their doom." Cause SCIENCE!, apparently. "Is there no way to encourage people to aim for quicker catches other than eating?" K'del allows that with a nod; he's certainly not interested in putting dragons at risk. "Encourage an enterprising brown or two to between up to her and catch," is not really serious, though there's a note of wryness, there. "I suppose it's a matter of educating the riders, as much as we can. If a goldrider can convince her queen to blood and not eat, there's a chance she can hold on enough to convince her not to fly high... and it's in the best interests of the males to get in quick." "It is not a perfect solution and while I am proud of Niahvth's most recent clutch," Irianke manages a small, crooked smile for K'del, "I do not think the Weyr should have a repeat of those numbers for a while." If only such things could be controlled. "I also, briefly, thought of ways to encourage people having more children, if they can, but I hit walls in any actual way it would be feasible." "No," K'del agrees. "We don't need a full complement of dragons. If anything, we should be cutting the wings down... altering what we do altogether." Beat. "Pay them. Some kind of bonus for every child produced. Or... no, I don't know. Believe me when I say I've done my best." It's his turn for a crooked smile. "Not with me." But that's surely a tease, despite Irianke's proclivities. There is that moment of awkward silence, that turns out to be faux when she winks and sits back with a broader smile on her face. "K'del, have you thought further on what will happen when either Niahvth or Roszadyth rises for you?" K'del splutters, managing-- barely-- to avoid spitting brandy everywhere. Irianke's wink stops the flush spreading across the bronzerider's face, but it doesn't put him at ease; not given what she follows it up with. "You know where I stand, Irianke. Cadejoth will chase to retain the Weyrleadership. If he doesn't win, a possibility I'm well aware of, I'll consider my options." "If he doesn't win, I would understand if you transferred, though it would be a great loss for High Reaches." Irianke says all this, remnants of that smile still somewhat present in her expression, as if it's taken hold and forgotten it's there. Her voice is less pleased, somber really. "If he wins, well, it may not be up to me to say anything since we might not be waking up next to each other afterwards." She reaches for the bottle, topping off her glass before sitting back. "If Niahvth rises first and you relinquish your relationship, I will close the flight to only Cadejoth." Blue eyes study Irianke as she speaks, giving no obvious reaction to words until that last statement: the one that sets his cheeks pale, his eyes wide. "No," he says, voice strained but certain. There's tension in how he sits now, but not anger. "On two counts, no. I won't leave Ali and my children; not for a deal like that, not for anything. I respect you, Irianke, but no. We'll win in flight, in the open and without deals, or not at all." It's an answer she expected, given the held breath suddenly exhaled. His answer is acknowledged with a nod; a rueful, resigned nod. "I had to at least offer." Irianke still just holds her full glass. "If Niahvth rises in leadership, it would be better if Cadejoth won. For the Weyr's stability with a Weyrwoman not everyone trusts just yet. And selfishly, for my leadership." The aforementioned not everyone trusts yet bit. "I've enjoyed working with you the last few months and I've enjoyed... this." This. Late night meetings. Chat sessions. Sharing. "Don't hold my secret dreams against me?" "I have too," is K'del's response, quiet, and with a return of his smile, the corners of his mouth turning up. "You're-- I've worked with a lot of weyrwomen, by now, and this is the first time it has truly felt the way I always imagined it should work. Give and take. So," He lifts his glass towards her. "We'll keep at it. And what will come will come. And-- if Niahvth rises first, whatever the outcome, you'll continue to have my support, such as it is. Frankly, I'm not sure if we should chase, should it be Roszadyth. This Weyr doesn't need another set of leaders at odds." "Farideh's at odds with you to that degree?" Is this news to Irianke? K'del makes a face, taking a sip from his drink before answering. "Farideh hates my guts," he says. "She believes I'm dishonouring the Weyr by having a relationship with a foreign weyrwoman-- which she's allowed to think, of course, even if I disagree-- and that I hate all holders. And... I don't even know what else. She says I don't listen, but she also seems to have no interest in hearing what I have to say." He makes a face. "Just feels like I've been turned into a bad guy in her head, and nothing will change that opinion." "I'll speak with her." Irianke says immediately, a certain thinness to the set of her lips appearing. She takes a long sip of her brandy, rubbing the excess off her lips with the back of her hand. A little, not amused, laugh emerges. "I'll speak with her, but first, do you actually hate all holders?" K'del's expression doesn't ease, despite Irianke's words, though he does answer with a sharp nod that suggests gratitude. It's that last question that draws his eyebrows up. "No," he says. "Shells, no. I was one. Not Blood, maybe, but still: a holder. I'm cautious of the Lords and Ladies in this area, based on past experience, but... in a way, that's out of respect. We all follow our own interests; that's as it should be." "She's always been a child who wore her heart on her sleeve and jumped to conclusions, but..." Irianke considers K'del with her gray-blue eyes a moment, sipping her drink all throughout. "Her opinions on you are fascinating. She's known no other Weyrleaders other than you or K'yan in her life. Perhaps it's about time she meets others. I hope to, once she's betweening, send her around Pern to meet other young weyrwomen. Maybe her head will balance more from seeing other Weyrleaders in action than me just speaking to her." K'del acknowledges that descriptor of Farideh with a nod, though it's the rest that has him sucking in a breath and then, finally, nodding again. "Good idea," he says. "She needs to get a glimpse of the rest of the world. See... I don't know. Everything. Do believe that she'll grow up. And... it's not that I think she and I need to be best friends. But we do need to be able to work together, even if it's just for the next turn or two." "I won't speak with her first then." The goldrider reneges on that promise. "It's better for her to see and then we'll speak on it after she brings it up first, if she ever does. And if it does not fix the solution well, then I'll have to speak with her about something." Cause telling someone how they should feel about others is always a great leadership tactic. Irianke finishes her drink and stands. "I wanted to speak with you about wing matters, but it's been an emotional day and I've already thrown far more serious topics than we usually go over. Later this week?" A solemn nod-- one that gets broken into by a quick smile partway through-- answers Irianke's words. "Agreed," he says. "With luck... she's young. Still a teenager. We'll just have to give her time. The wings can wait, certainly." He, too, rises, though his drink is not yet finished; perhaps it's simply a matter of politeness. "Later this week, certainly. Sleep well, Irianke." The furs are draped over the couch's back and she reaches for her book. "Good night, K'del." Irianke's hand grazes his shoulder in a pat filled with camaraderie, her steps paused for that one moment, before she continues on out into the cold. |
Comments
Kaleidoscope (00:44, 8 June 2015 (EDT)) said...
I loved this scene! The ripple effect of the green at Fort and how it prompts reflection into HRW's own recent history and practices, how that rolls into future practices (especially enjoyed how Nimae does things and spit-balling what could be and should be done with gold flights). Then the deal! I held my breath even though I've heard K'del tell a story where everyone ended as productive members of society and know how he rolls. Farideh and K'del's relationship (and K'del's with WW in general) and Irianke's role there was also fun! Really, the flow and progression of this scene was delightful to read. <3
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