Logs:Decent
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| RL Date: 9 February, 2013 |
| Who: Brieli, H'kon |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Brieli makes an effort to be decent to H'kon. H'kon makes no efforts in that direction at all. |
| Where: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions |
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| Records Room, High Reaches Weyr Books. Scrolls. Bound hides. Maps. If it's a record pertaining to the Weyr, it's likely to be in this roughly oval room with its floor-to-ceiling cherrywood shelves, its multitude of slots for scrolls, and its wide drawers for materials that shouldn't be rolled up or folded. A scribe is usually on duty at the tall desk up front with its good view of the room, and is able to help visitors find what they're looking for via the big bound index on its rotating stand. Past the desk, several tables stand in neat rows for note-taking, each stocked with glowbaskets, scrap hide, paper and pencils. Additional lighting is provided by a many-armed wrought-iron light fixture, its glows gleaming through luxurious glass containers in fluted shapes instead of baskets. To one side of the room, a gap between two sets of shelves outlines where another set once stood, now replaced by a tapestry-covered aperture. Peeking behind the tapestry reveals another cavern, this one likewise full of shelves, but occupied by only a few boxes of older records and a somewhat musty air of disuse. As well, two narrow but solid doors are locked when the room is unattended and a discreet staircase provides direct access from the Weyrleaders' weyrs. It's getting late, which makes it quiet enough in the records room - the snow had most of the staff clear out early for the caverns, so it's only Brieli - it seems - working alone at one of the tables, for the moment. There's indications of her presence outside, likely quickly-filling tracks from Iesaryth's weyr to the stairs and inside; a little pile of melting snow just inside the entrance. Nothing's hidden or covered up before the goldrider, so it's likely that whatever she's working on? Not all that interesting. H'kon's pause just outside the records room was so that he might review certain notes made for him (though surely there are few who would tell the difference between his hand and his brother's, on paper) in... well, if not relative privacy, since halls do not offer such, at least relatively Brieli-free territory. Oh, he saw those footprints. Arekoth was the one more interested in them, at least buzzing the ledge to see if the gold is there or not. H'kon just took it as warning. Could be why he's tucking that scrap carefully into his jacket as he makes his way into the room. The goldrider and her table get only a cursory sort of glance from under set brows as he moves toward it. Surely his path should lead past. Iesaryth is on her ledge, as usual - though there's no foreign visitors tonight. Apparently some dragons don't feel the need to camp out in the bowl anymore. The brown will get a rumble as he passes, the sea-salt breeze that linger around the Weyr intensifying briefly. Come on by. Her rider might be likewise warned, but Brieli doesn't look too concerned about having her relative privacy invaded. In fact, she'll sit there working, dark head bent over hides, with the barest flicker of a glance H'kon's way. Maybe she's waiting to see what he does. That'd be like her. Arekoth wavers only a moment before banking in for a landing on Iesaryth's ledge. If the brown's visits have been less frequent, when he does get in touch, it certainly hasn't been so cold or distant as his rider has been - is now, even, working very hard at being. Wings are shuffled about, set right, before he makes a few paces in to Iesaryth, hooked snout extended for a greeting touch. H'kon... well. He is very disciplined in keeping that look short, and then giving careful consideration to the records room before setting out for a certain shelf purporting to be the home of certain historical Weyr records. As he passes - just after he passes, of course - Brieli's voice comes from where she's sitting, as calm and cultured as ever. "Are you just ignoring the fact that I exist? It won't really help." H'kon can't get far, or at the very least, her actions will get at him, if not the goldrider herself. She's not looking up yet, but clearly paying attention, as she offers helpfully, "I can tell you where to look, if I know what you're looking for. Or who. The Weyr's history is something of an interest of mine." And people think she doesn't care! "I'm well aware of your existence," is perfectly and entirely true. H'kon even glances back to prove it, before clasping his hands behind his back, an stepping full up to that shelf to begin the perusal of titles. Grudgingly, and only after a moment in which he's probably considering the silent treatment a bit more, "I'm also aware there's a great deal of depth can be missed, if the looking is skipped over. Specifics are one thing." And the rest must be the other. He certainly doesn't elaborate to any precision. "Doesn't it make more sense to start from what you want, and sort out the context from there? If you want to waste your time, though - waste it. It doesn't bother me." Her head is still bowed over her work for the most part; she has to tuck dark curls behind one ear to stop them from getting in her way. Brieli's expression hovers somewhere between faintly amused and entirely resigned. After a beat, "I'm not a terrible person. I'm not a nice person, and I don't have much in the way of patience. But I don't do things simply to make everyone's life difficult." Her tone seems sincere enough, for all she's distracting herself with whatever notes she's making. "I suppose it would depend on the sort of search you're undertaking. Yours is clearly different than mine." There's a sharp look, almost reproachful, sent to the goldrider. H'kon bends a bit at the midsection when he reaches for one of those scrolls. He doesn't quite get to opening it up for even a glance before Brieli speaks, and he freezes. Freezes, waits, thaws only enough to tilt his head to the side, neck tensed throughout. "No. I'm certain your motives revolve around one life in particular." With a roll of her eyes that's visible even while she works, Brieli just shakes her head before, "Just offering. I won't make the same mistake twice." There's a faint smirk as she scratches out something slowly before finally looking up, over to H'kon. Her sharp gaze might note where he is and what he's near, but she mostly regards him levelly, dark brows arched. "Perhaps. But not mine." She doesn't explain. She just goes back to her work. "You think you know me remarkably well for someone who only asked things of me before and only offers suspicion now." H'kon unbends, scroll in hand and still rolled. He lifts his head, though not to look at Brieli. He's looking up, if maybe not really at the thing in whose general direction his eyes are pointed. "Perhaps I do not know you... thoroughly. Perhaps it is enough to know what matters, for your situation and for mine." That almost philosophical look is brought back down, and he sidles a few steps and reaches for another scroll to add to the first. Bemused, perhaps by words and the way he's not really looking at, but around her, Brieli sets down her pencil for what seems like it'll just be a moment - but then she's out of her chair and closing the distance between them - probably as close as H'kon will let her get before backing up, if he does. Her turn to be pointed in her focus, gaze heavy on him. "Do me the favor of looking at me if you're going to dismiss my attempts to be decent. It would be nice if you gave me that little respect." H'kon's posture tenses, but no, he doesn't back away. He does bring the scrolls in a bit closer to himself, most likely without any conscious command to do so. He doesn't look to Brieli until that last word. And then, it's a sharp whip of his head to look (up) to her, squarely. It would be belligerent if he weren't H'kon. "You do not have my respect," is said much in the way that someone might correct a child who has repeatedly insisted that the sky is purple; firm, flat, and with no hint of patience. Still, he looks right on at her. "Do not mistake that in any way." And then he's looking back to the shelf. Brieli is not a child; is not someone who can be wounded easily or seems hurt all that often, but there's a flicker of something that's visible in her gaze when she looks back at H'kon, eyes flinty. With a purse of her lips, "Fine, then. But I have never done anything but try to keep this place going, protect it from outside influence, from Monaco, burning my bridges there for no other reason than to ensure justice was done. I listened to you. I listen to the weyrfolk. I pay attention to what's happening. And you dismiss all of that, because of one thing, one thing you've never even bothered to ask me to explain? Who's the monster here, brownrider? I'm twenty turns old. And I can hold it together. I have. If you're the sort of person who's blind to everything but his delusions and emotions, then..." She shrugs, starts to turn to go. "Be careful with the scrolls." Possessively. "Yes, you are very capable," H'kon agrees all too quickly, all too curtly. The reach for another scroll is pointedly slow and precise. It joins its brethren in his arms. "And I do not dismiss all of that. I'm well aware of it. What I see, Brieli," and he turns to look at her again, gaze hard and quite unforgiving, "is so capable a young woman, whose talents are put to use for the wrong reasons. And that does not demand respect, but caution." "You don't know my reasons. If you knew them, I wonder if you would think them so wrong." Brieli's voice is leaden, even visible in the momentary drop of her shoulders. She doesn't glance back over her shoulder right away but when she does, H'kon's gaze doesn't even make her blink. "Iesaryth should be afforded respect, even if you can't lower yourself to thinking of me as anything but what K'del tells you. Such a leader, H'kon. Inspiring, to run to the man who left us alone." As she starts back to her table, "You see what you want to see." "Do not think I do not consider Iesaryth," sounds almost a warning, though there's no change toward the menacing in his posture. It's that same, not-belligerent look. "And do not think I have forgotten K'del's past decisions." Even if she's leaving, he doesn't lift his voice so that his final words, "But it was not him who told me," should make it to her. He doesn't lower it, either. And finally, words said, he moves further down into the stacks. She's only going to the table; she's only a few steps away before those words give her pause. Turning slightly, Brieli first arches questioning brows - she's definitely curious if he wants to elaborate; but then there's real confusion in her expression. After a blink or two, "Told you...?" Her arms fold, and though it's difficult to tell when she's completely sincere... she's interested. But H'kon doesn't feel like elaborating. He doesn't feel, it seems, like looking at or talking to Brieli any more than he already has. H'kon feels like getting a few more scrolls, like finding a place away from Brieli, like sitting there, like maybe waiting her out before getting into his own reading. How far he'll get into this, however... A few steps closer, ducking her head to try to look up at his expression, dark gaze flickering to the scrolls again, Brieli asks, pointedly, "Who told you what?" She'll come far enough down the row to make sure she's blocking the way out; no running without answers. "I don't even know what you're talking about, H'kon, honestly," she tells him after a beat. "At least tell me that." H'kon manages to get only one more scroll before the goldrider is back, before his exit is blocked. The sigh, when he catches sight of her, is one of dull exasperation. That child with the purple sky is back. He regards her evenly, reaches for another scroll (it might not even be anywhere near the one he needs), and then starts toward her, toward the exit. "You did," is the only thing offered, not quite an answer. The look is expectant, and his step slows, but doesn't stop entirely. But, in the way. Brieli doesn't exactly back down; she stands her ground, though it takes a moment or two for it two dawn on her. Instead of getting angry or even so much as looking irritated, she laughs. It even reaches her eyes, brightening them briefly. "I told a few people. I'm not trying to hide it." She just shakes her head, before backing out of the way - but only one slow step after another. "I just hoped... I didn't want trouble for him." A pause before she'll admit, despite looking at back at him dubiously - he won't believe it, but... "I thought Hraedhyth would go first. I never really wanted him to be Weyrleader. Ask his. I told N'muir as much." And only then will she clear his path. H'kon's brow knits, his lips purse faintly, this time definitely not in some attempted smile. Somewhere between puzzled and troubled, the brownrider does at least turn his shoulders somewhat sideways as he passes past Brieli. It's when he's gone a few paces that he shakes his head. "That is not it." And then it's an attempt at a smooth exit, past a table where the scrolls can be left (a would-have-been-harper's son couldn't dream of getting them wet from the snow, even incidentally) as he moves for the door. He can always come back. She can't be here forever. With a put-upon sigh, Brieli goes off to the table she was working at, starting to stack up her own work - either she's done for the night, or H'kon has pretty much used up any patience or energy she has left. Conversationally, "You know, people will think that your... issues might come from being bitter over how things worked out?" Just saying. Then, as if she's certain she won't get an answer but is compelled to ask anyway, "What is it, then?" It's weary. "Perhaps there will be some." H'kon pauses, reaching a hand back to find the table's edge when he's got sight of Brieli's own preparations. "But there are a good many others who know me." No, no answer is forthcoming. The brownrider simply shifts toward the table he's chosen, and lets his head cant, a mostly unemotional look pinned on the woman "You do not remember," seems not so much revelation as intriguing to the man. Lightly, "I don't think many people know you that well at all." Something about Brieli's tone, her faint smile says that she'll certainly see about that, if it's necessary. All of her hides and papers stacked and slid into a folder, she picks it up and pauses at her own table, arching one fine brow H'kon's way. Frankly, "I try not to remember too much about anything to do with you." It doesn't answer his question either, but it's a fine excuse. With one of her most brilliant smiles for the brownrider, she shrugs, all faux-apology, before she starts for the bowl. No coat, not for that short a trip. And once she's left, H'kon finally sits at his table with his scrolls. But even with Brieli gone, with the records room mostly to himself, it takes some time before he stops simply tracing the edges with his thumb, and actually unrolls one. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 09 Feb 2013 22:35:03 GMT.
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Would anyone like some tension spread on their toast? Could cut it with a friggin' knife, man.
I imagine the next time they talk, Brieli won't even attempt to be pleasant at first. And yeah, H'kon is stubborn as all hell. XD
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