Logs:First Choices
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| RL Date: 19 April, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Following the hatching, Irianke has things to say. |
| Where: K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 7, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Devaki/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Tevrane/Mentions |
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| Cadejoth's on his ledge, so K'del is here; Isyath and Ali were here, earlier, with the children, but they've gone home, now-- Isyath never spends the night. Inside, the glows are lit, but the weyrleader himself is not in evidence: just a path of stray clothing scattered about the couch, not all of it male, and two empty wineglasses. There's the sound of water running from the other room; maybe he's bathing, again. Or peeing. Fully aware of the Southern Weyrwoman's presence, Irianke waits a few hours until after they've left before crossing from her weyr to the Weyrleader's. When her light rap against the stone wall is met with no response, she ventures in, swiftly scanning eyes noting the littered clothing and empty wineglasses. The water, too, is noticed, and the goldrider opts to stand there and wait while Niahvth speaks with Cadejoth: « Irianke awaits a word, » with just a glimpse of just where Irianke is, standing next to a bra. « He'll be out presently, » answers Cadejoth, promptly, with a rattle that suggests mirth; perhaps he's aware of the scene in front of Niahvth's rider. So must K'del be, because he's hasty in making his exit from the bathroom, shirtless and shoeless but at least wearing pants. "Irianke," he says, hastily leaning down to gather up some of the clothes in a way that doesn't suggest embarrassment for what it implies so much as for the state of the place. (That bra? The first thing to go.) "Congratulations on the clutch." A smile hovers on Irianke's mouth for the alacrity of K'del's appearance and response to not only the mess, but the immediate mess by her foot. "They all hatched and matched with no undue drama, so yes, thank you for the congratulations. I saw your family was here all together visiting on this occasion. I hope the Southern Weyrwoman is well, as well as your children." "She's very well," says K'del in answer, gathering up that bundle of clothes and hastily stowing them somewhere less obvious. The rest of the mess will, it seems, have to stay where it is; now, both hands clasp behind his back. "As are the children. We had a good visit. She asked me to pass on her congratulations, as well. Are you relieved, to have it all finished with?" "Relieved?" As if the thought had never occurred to her, a mystified look of wide blue eyes finds K'del. "Is that generally how you feel after a hatching? Relieved?" Irianke stays standing there, though one hand has found a fringe of beads that line her dress to play with. "I--" begins K'del, who then stops. And shrugs. "Some goldriders are. Isyath's always happiest once she doesn't have to sit and watch the eggs all the time, so Ali-- well. Guess the answer is 'no,' then, huh?" His hands, behind his back, clench just a little tighter, than his expression is easy enough. Perhaps his state of relative undress helps. Irianke considers this and then laughs. "Oh, Niahvth doesn't mind being sands bound, though it is difficult to get her out of the skies for the first day, night, seven. But it's not a chore for either of us but a welcome break. A mini vacation from daily life. Though this one," the goldrider's voice trails off and her expression grows somber. K'del's expression darkens in response, his nod so shallow as to be almost imperceptible. "Wish i could say 'oh, High Reaches isn't usually like this' but it seems we've had a few bad turns, of late." Apparently aware of the understatement, he glances away. "Don't know Farideh well, but-- she's in good hands. Know you'll do your best to train her up right." "It is known," says Irianke, simply, as if one facet of High Reaches Weyr's global reputation has not disappointed. "I hope to shield her from the awareness that she will likely be High Reaches Weyr's next Weyrwoman. I can only hope to do what I can to train her before my term here ends." Making a face, K'del says, "It's a shitty thing, being thrown into leadership like that. That young. That... inexperienced. But as long as she's not unprepared." A pause, during which time he seems to be considering the rest of Irianke's words. "I hope you can shield her. It's likely she's feeling pressure enough, as it is. Thank you. You won't... consider staying, even as a junior? To support her?" Irianke's eyes cast down to where the bra once was, her toe outlining the shape of it idly. Or else it's just random circles which is more likely. "It will ultimately depend on what Farideh would like. It is not an easy thing leading a Weyr with your mentor and acting Weyrwoman of two turns still present. I would understand if she'd rather send me elsewhere." The self-deprecating shrug doesn't falter those idle circles. "And frankly," she looks up, and as she does so those circles stop and her eyes speak a whole other story that accompanies her words, "I don't think I can stomach being a junior to an untried leader." K'del's gaze falls towards that circling foot, watching it rather than Irianke as she speaks. It doesn't mean he can disguise his flinch when she makes her final words, eyes finally lifting to look at her again. "No," he agrees. "It was difficult, I think, for people to follow me, when I was still around." In the 'in between turns,' presumably. "Difficult for me, too, to watch. You think there's no chance of Niahvth rising first." "Would that be a better solution?" asks Irianke. For him? For the Weyr? For her? "I don't know." K'del seems genuine, in that. "Except it seems like... swapping an experienced weyrwoman for an inexperienced one doesn't seem likely to help anyway. In two turns, you'll no longer be the newcomer, to many." Irianke considers this and looks past K'del to where his ledge might be. Where Cadejoth is. "Niahvth could rise first. It's hard to tell with maiden flights, but I've tracked most of the ones at High Reaches, and many seem to go earlier than the norm. Then again," a brief smile cracks the solemn veneer, "I would have to be deaf not to hear the gossip of how High Reaches no longer has Reachian blooded queens so perhaps Roszadyth will not fall within the Reachian norm." K'del's own smile is even briefer. "Roszadyth may not have High Reachian blood, but she's a High Reachian queen," he says; his opinion on this is sure. "You're right, of course. We need to move ahead with the assumption that she will rise first, and... if it is otherwise, well, then so be it." "Do you wish to remain as Weyrleader?" Irianke asks, her eyes drifting to where all the clothes once were and the two wine glasses, still there and empty. K'del's head turns so that he can follow Irianke's gaze, at least towards the wine glasses. If he follows the natural extension of thought, it doesn't show in his expression. "I love my job," is what he says, quietly and simply. "And I feel a sense of duty. I'll serve as Weyrleader as long as Cadejoth continues to catch." "K'del," Irianke looks to the man, the normally warm face absolutely devoid of such warmth. In fact, there's mute apology in her eyes for what she's about to say, but no warmth. Her voice is matter-of-fact. "I respect you and think you have been the glue that keeps the Weyr together all these turns, so know I say this from a place of respect. But should Niahvth rise first, you would not be my first choice as Weyrleader and it would not be a personally driven decision." K'del doesn't wince, at least. His chin lifts, and his expression tightens-- stony, really-- but he doesn't wince. He meets Irianke's gaze squarely. He says nothing. If he's taken deep, personal offense, if he's guessed her reasons; it's not written in that so-careful expression. "If you bet against Niahvth, I will not take it personally. I just felt... you should know. I don't want to work with you for the next two turns without you at least knowing, if not understanding, my thoughts on the issue." Irianke's palms lie flat against her dress and her feet have stopped their random fidgeting. "It would be as dishonest as me giving you an impossible ultimatum, one both of us know I cannot enforce." Yet. "I appreciate your honesty," says K'del, although those words are so careful it's difficult to truly determine whether he means them. "I'm not sure I've been the first choice of any of the Weyrwomen I've served with-- Iolene, perhaps." It's a belated consideration; it comes with a shrug. "I don't-- can't-- agree with you. But mostly... mostly, I just hope that, whomever it is who rises, whomever it is who catches, they're the best for High Reaches. High Reaches is my first priority." He seems, now, belatedly, rather more aware of his shirtlessness, though he otherwise doesn't move. "Is it?" Irianke sounds and looks dubious at that. "Your heart is in one place that isn't always here. Much as mine strays to my son at Igen, though he'd say I have no rights to call him that other than my name imprinted into his as is the Weyr way." "If High Reaches were not my priority, I would have transferred long ago," says K'del, simply. "Ali and I have always known and accepted the way things are. The way they must be. Even when I was not Weyrleader, I stayed. Despite her. I love my family, and I hate to be apart from them, but this Weyr..." He shakes his head. "It would still be an impossible choice, if your Weyrwoman," which she is not, "Told you to choose. And it is not something I wish to ask of anyone." So instead, Irianke opts for the non-choice, the option that means she doesn't have to make someone choose. "In any case, it is an unlikely scenario. Niahvth rises every two and a half turns on the nose, and by all accounts, she will rise just after Roszadyth does." K'del's nod, this time, is slow and careful. Not happy; not approving. Aware, perhaps, but not much more. Solemnly, and quietly, he says, "And Roszadyth, untried as she will be-- it's difficult to predict. I don't expect to hold my knot, Irianke. Not sure I've ever expected to do so. But as long as Cadejoth catches, I will do my duty, and gladly." "Will you still work with me in the upcoming turns? I still value and would like your direction in what areas you feel the Weyr could use my skills best." Irianke's words change the subject but only slightly. Her words have been said and well, what else could go wrong? It says something, perhaps, of how far K'del has come since the boy-Weyrleader he once was, that he's able to accept that change of subject and acknowledge it with his short nod. "Until such time as one of High Reaches' queens rises," he says, simply. "Here I stay. We'll need to commence formal visits, as a start." "I'd like to start with Nabol." The most recently broken one. "And then Crom. Tillek. And High Reaches Hold." Irianke's posture relaxes, a more affable set to them as one part of her life gets compartmentalized back into its neat box and another opens. "Is that agreeable?" K'del scratches, idly, at the skim just above his hip. "Yes," he answers, without pause. "That's agreeable. I think you'll like Tevrane; she's very... upfront." "Do you have time tonight?" Asked as if Irianke only just realizes post-hatching might not be everyone's idea of when to start an all night study session. That question, abruptly, makes K'del laugh, gaze sweeping around the detritus still present in the room, not to mention his shirtless state. "Can I go find a clean shirt to put on, first? We might as well." He's sober, not to mention alone. Irianke's grey-blue eyes drop to take in shirtless K'del and for the first time, a smile of the delighted variety rises. "H'vier did say I should go find someone else to spread my legs for," she murmurs, the voice far too amused to be insulted. "I don't think he had this quite in mind. If you don't mind then, please go find a shirt, and I'd like to start with High Reaches Hold first and pick your brain." K'del makes a choking sound, as if he'd truly rather not know anything about what H'vier says, but he manages to avoid making actual comment except for, "No, I suspect not. I'll get that shirt, then-- feel free to help yourself to a drink while you wait," he adds, gesturing towards the bottles on the mantle. "And then my brain is at your disposal." "A clean glass?" is what Irianke calls out as she does make her way to one of the bottles. "Never mind!" Never mind she's still in her hatching best. Her hair is pulled back, that's all that matters. "On the--" But there's that 'never mind' and so K'del stops his answer, focusing his attention, instead, on finding that shirt (but not shoes; that's going too far for a man who is, after all, comfortably at home). When he comes back, he's decent again, padding across the floor comfortably, as if he weren't just-short-of-furious only a few minutes before. Go figure. Irianke is already on the once clothing-littered couch, seated a little too comfortably for what the activity the shed clothing implied, with a pillow tucked at her waist, that helps with what modesty is needed for that dress of hers. "Shall we start then?" The two used wine glasses are on the cabinet, refreshed with two glasses of whisky. "Tell me everything you know about the current leadership at High Reaches Hold and I'll ask questions as needed." She's also found paper and pen while waiting. Was he gone that long? In any case, it's about to be a very long night. "Indeed," agrees K'del. No time like the present, after all! He takes a seat in one of the chairs, pressing one hand to each armrest, fingers drumming upon the fabric. Clearly, he was gone long enough. "You'll know, of course, that Devaki is one of the exiles-- the ones sent off to an island back in the last Interval, and forgotten about. Rescued by us, but not, at least in Devaki's case, gratefully." And so it begins. |
Comments
Roz (09:28, 20 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
Farideh's face right now:
WHY MOM AND DAD WHY.
Alida (00:02, 21 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
Hahahahahaha! (at Farideh)
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