Logs:Following (And Questioning) Orders
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| RL Date: 2 May, 2015 |
| Who: K'del, Yesia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and Cadejoth come across Yesia and Aeaeth. It goes surprisingly well. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 9, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
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| It's a lovely day, to be sure, certainly one too lovely to be spent indoors. At least, that's how Yesia sees it, and Aeaeth is always obliging. The dragon is in the water as high as she can get, her head floating disjointedly above the gently waving water, her wings keeping her balanced within it and not too far from the shore. Now and then, she turns her gaze to Yesia with delighted little croons, taking the weyrling's attention from her studies, if that's what the books and hides in her lap are. It's one such moment, with Yesia smiling fondly out at her lifemate, laughing quietly. "You can't make it to that rock. You'll get stuck." "If she gets stuck," comes a voice, warmly friendly and with the lazy ease of country Tillek still strung amidst the syllables, "We'll help her out again." The 'we' is manifest in tall, blonde-haired K'del and the pale, bone-bronze dragon swooping in from above, the latter apparently disinclined to land just yet. "Afternoon, weyrling. Fine day to be out-of-doors." That sounds like a victory to Aeaeth, who lifts her head and warbles her greeting to Cadejoth and K'del as they land, and a pointed glance between her rider and the intended rock, several meters off the shoreline. Yesia, briefly, back to see whose arrived, and doesn't quite stop her eyeroll at having to stop everything due to K'del's arrival, but she does it anyways. Her, "Good afternoon, Weyrleader," is polite, and she even seems to consider getting up, though that requires her to move a lot of things off her lap. She hesitates, considering the moist ground beside her, a place to put those things, even as she says, "It's very nice out, yes. Please don't tell her she'll be rescued; I don't want to get yelled at." This, even as Aeaeth swims smoothly further out, under the guise of getting out of Cadejoth's way if he wants to land near them. To Cadejoth, Aeaeth is sweet soprano tones that blossom like flowers into the bright spring colors she prefers to dress her words in: daffodil yellows and tulip blues and vivid green. « Would you really help me? » is the innocent question, easily fished out, and easily tossed back, her melodies affirming, « Not that I would get stuck. I am a very good swimmer, but she does not believe me. » To Aeaeth, Cadejoth's reply is far less pretty: the rattle of bones and chains, metal clinking against metal, and a wriggly, delighted energy that emphasises each lazy wingbeat he takes. « Of course I would, » he promises, hovering on the edge of affronted at the very idea. « You're part of my pack. I would always assist one of mine. I bet you're a good swimmer. They just worry. » "I don't even know," Yesia admits, looking grateful to not have to move her things. "Because, sometimes, I think Quinlys - erm. Weyrlingmaster Quinlys, does all these things just because she can. I don't think she needs a reason. Aeaeth, please." Her aside is a cut look to her dragon, who in the water has changed her guise from getting out of the way to making steady, smooth progress to the rock she wants. A squint at Cadejoth, and then back at K'del again. "She'd probably be displeased to have involved you, if Aeaeth got stuck." Ribbons of color recoil slightly from that harsh rattle, like a snake darting back into a hole, but they don't disappear. « Then I am going to try, » Aeaeth says eventually, decisively, and there is nothing to cover up that declaration, no vibrancy or misleading tinkle of chimes. « It is the perfect sunning rock. » (To Cadejoth from Aeaeth) K'del's mouth twitches, ever so faintly, at that description of the weyrlingmaster. "Sometimes," he says, levelly enough, "I'm not convinced you're wrong. But she's never lost a weyrling, and on the whole, she turns out good riders; that's why she's the weyrlingmaster. But," and here, his mouth widens into a broader smile, "She'll not argue with me on it. And anyway, that green of yours seems to be doing just fine." For now. To Aeaeth, Cadejoth, hastily, tones down his chains, those bones; perhaps they're better in muted format, more joyous and less creepy? « Good, » he approves. « Trying is important. And soon you will be too large for it, and then it will go unused altogether, and that would be tragic. » Yesia is certainly vindicated in that, if the smugness of her expression is any indication. But she ventures, not sounding convinced, "That's...comforting. I suppose. But it's not you I'm worried about. Well, yeah. She's always the one telling us about our places. You're the weyrleader, who is stupid enough to argue with you?" There is a squaring of shoulders for the compliment about Aeaeth, who is indeed doing very fine. Her undulating movements are natural, her paws drawn in and her tail propelling her forward almost exclusively. She gives the rock a once around, a wide loop to make sure it's as satisfactory up close as it appeared to be from the shore, and her decision is good, it seems, because she climbs atop it. It's a lot less graceful than her swimming. "She's not wrong in that," points out K'del, after a moment, his expression thoughtful as he studies the weyrling. "You're a weyrling; she's your weyrlingmaster. I'm her boss, and also yours. But actually, it's nice to know there are some people willing to argue with me... she gives in, in the end, because she knows her fate is in my hands. We make it work." He misses Aeaeth's ascent to the rock, glancing back up only after she's made it. "Oh, look. Well done, Aeaeth!" Out they come, Aeaeth's rainbow segments, tentatively examining his gentler rattling, poking at those chains cautiously and then with more confidence. Silence breaks with pretty vocalizations on higher range, all very carefully trying to harmonize with his own muted noises. Her contributions jitters when she's climbing aboard, and then all at once there are bells of all ranges for her triumph, rolling out golden whorls in their wake. « Ha! I did it! It is mine. » (To Cadejoth from Aeaeth) There are all kinds of chains, here: big, thick, solid ones, and tiny delicate ones, too. Most delicate of all is the finest of silvery meshes that, in the bronze's mental landscape, spreads out from dragon to dragon, connecting everyone; his pack. « You did! » he enthuses, all delight, as he soars upwards again, trumpeting his approval. « All yours. As long as you defend it. » (To Aeaeth from Cadejoth) "Wouldn't you rather be right and not questioned?" Yesia wants to know, with nothing particularly nice to say about Quinlys these days. As the arbiter of her least favorite activities, the bluerider is the trigger for her snooty little frowns and the turn up of her nose; it's probably better that she doesn't say anything about her own feelings. Her consideration, then, is of Aeaeth, who's sides are working like a bellows from her work. The corner of her mouth twitches as she watches the dragon scramble for purchase. Aeaeth gives a baby-bugle from the rock before flopping down tiredly. "When you open yourself to be questioned," Yesia is saying, words undermining the smile on her face and open look of pride for that little green, "you get people like...some of the other weyrlings." Not me. "Always second guessing everything and causing problems." "It's true that second-guessing your weyrlingmaster is probably not an ideal situation," muses K'del, who now has to try and explain himself... easier said than done. "You're all still learning. Quinlys, for all her faults, is determined to turn you all into good dragonriders, and that's important. Later, she'll be keeping you safe: flaming and between are nothing to scoff about, especially at first." The difference, then? "And... no, I don't want to be questioned over my leadership decisions, not by just anyone. I'm the Weyrleader, and I have to make those decisions. The difference is... ultimately, about trust and mutual respect." He shoves his hands into his pockets, rolling his shoulders back. "I'm willing to consider other viewpoints, from people who've earned my trust and respect, but ultimately, we all need to know when to back down and simply do what we're ordered to; we're dragonriders, that's what we signed up for." To Cadejoth, Aeaeth is, apparently, too tired to think about defending it just yet. There is the impression of being submerged, strange muffled silence, bubbles floating, light refracting - and then burning lungs. On the rock, her teeth bare slightly in silent threat to nobody at all, and then nothing. « Nobody will take it, » she assures. To Aeaeth, Cadejoth's chains, this time, seem to encourage the sense of a lullaby; rest, little green. Rest. « Nobody, » he agrees. « I wouldn't let them, and neither would you. » "Someone should tell that to - to Edyis and Farideh and some of the others. They aren't more experienced than any of us," and Yesia's grousing now, as if she's maybe forgotten her own place and who is keeping her company right now, "but they always have something to say about things. I mean - I ask questions too, but not like they do." She is quiet for a moment. "What makes you respect someone, then? How do they know they can question your orders?" It's probably not terribly professional, but although K'del's expression shows little change for Edyis, it certainly darkens at mention of Farideh. "You're all weyrlings; you should all be asking questions in order to find things out, not in order to challenge authority. Not now." And the rest? "It takes time. You have to get a feel for a person-- feel out their stance on a position, and whether you think they're willing to consider other options. Do it respectfully. You can't storm into the council chambers and demand answers from me, for example, but you can ask. It's a matter of building up trust, I think. If you seem unwilling to listen to what I have to say, why should I listen to what you have to say?" Yesia is testing waters, that much is clear. She's watching his face very carefully, no longer distracted by Aeaeth as the little green succumbs to slumber in the sun. All the better to turn her full attention to K'del, to note his responses at her name dropping, and her mouth curves into a small, pleased smile at his reaction, something she can file away for later, no doubt. For now? Pending a small 'hmm' of consideration for his answer, she'll allow, "You seem like a good weyrleader. I think some people are just...contrary, and that's all there is. And sometimes, completely innocent people get caught in the crossfire when they have legitimate questions about why something has to be done, and then they get extra laps for it for being insubordinate, all because someone with a gold dragon had to ask a dumb question just before you did. Or any other color," is added quickly. Can't leave out anyone. K'del's answer is even: "Certainly try to be a good Weyrleader." His pale blue eyes study Yesia, now, considering her words with all due seriousness... and perhaps the faintest hint of amusement. Surely not! "Things like that happen," is what he does say, finally. "Sometimes, you need to pick your moments. And your method of delivery. Learn to be mindful of what's going on around you. But, most of all," and he's smiling, now, "do what you're told. The weyrlingmasters aren't, generally, doing things for no reason. They want you to succeed. In return, you owe it to them to trust their experience." Yesia meets his smile with a disarming one of her own, patting at her shoulder for her hair - which is gone now - and then moving up, up, until she can twine her fingers in the curls that remain and twist one thoughtfully around two fingers. "Okay," she says, utterly passive about agreeing, which for anyone else would be a warning sign. In three, two, one, "Are you sure they do, though? I heard that the weyrlingmaster didn't even want people to stand for this clutch. I'm glad I didn't know until I got here - Aeaeth was waiting - but. Are we really expected to believe that she wants the best for us, after that? It's not that I mind," she stresses, "it's just that I worry, and I want to know why but sometimes the answer is just 'because they say so.'" K'del does not know Yesia well enough-- or her reputation, which might also help-- to be aware of what to expect; his nod is even enough, his expression easy enough, that he seems to be taking her comments at face value. Having said that? "The weyrlingmaster had concerns about the arrangement that was made with Igen," he explains, carefully. "She wanted to make sure that everyone went into Standing aware of what it implied-- what it could mean for them. The thing is... part of being a dragonrider does mean doing what you're told to, because the explanation isn't always something you need to know, or even should know. We don't advocate blind loyalty, but arguing with a weyrlingmaster during class isn't likely to get you far. If you're that unsure, seek them out after class and ask, then." "Mmmm," again, thoughtful acknowledgement. "That's not what everyone makes it sound like. Not that I'm doubting you," she's quick to assure. "If we don't need to know, or we shouldn't, and we just obey, we're following blindly. Farideh already thinks she can do that, telling people what they should do when she's not even a weyrwoman yet." A wrinkling of her small nose for that. "Not that she wasn't like that before." Yesia huffs softly, leaning forward to put her elbows on her knees and look out at the water, at sunning Aeaeth and past her. "I don't know why going to Igen would be so bad." Despite his own feelings on the subject of Farideh, K'del doesn't comment on the other weyrling. Instead, he digs his hands further into his pockets, turning his gaze out and up towards his dragon, who is still circling above the lake, keeping an eye out on the tiny green below. "For some people, going to Igen would be-- banishment, I suppose. It's not even that it's Igen so much as that it isn't High Reaches. It's not having the choice." "I might go," Yesia admits, watching Aeaeth stir slightly, rolling over on her rock just enough that she's very precariously balanced on it, and might slip off at any moment. The weyrling makes a face at that movement, staring at her until the dragon settles again. Her tail flicks in the water, and Yesia exhales a breath she didn't realize she was holding. It takes her a moment to find her thoughts again. "Nobody really likes me here, anyways. It's not my home, but I can't take a dragon to Crom." Above Cadejoth circles lower; he's seen, too. But Aeaeth is safe-- his spirals resume, even wingbeats carrying him in lazy circuits. K'del is silent, waiting until after Yesia has finished her thoughts to come up with any of his own. "It's an option that is open to you," he says, calmly. "If you so choose. You have a little while longer to consider it. Igen's-- different. But I imagine it could become home, if you chose to make it so." Yesia shrugs, agreeing, "Yes, there is. I still have a lot of time either way, even if I do decide to go. It might be good. Aeaeth is an Igen dragon, right?" It's rhetorical, maybe, because she moves on, readjusting on the ground, all the better to shift her papers and books in her lap. "I hope I'm not keeping you from something, sir." K'del, however, does not move on: "Aeaeth is a High Reaches dragon." His pause is brief before he adds, "Albeit one who carries with her the bloodlines of Igen and Ista. It might be good. A new start." His hands are drawn from his pockets, now, one lifting to run through his short-cropped curls. "Nothing especially," he promises. "But if I'm distracting you from your studies, don't let me keep you." "Just barely, she is," Yesia murmurs at her lap, maybe too low to be heard. "Igen can't be worse than what will happen if Roszadyth rises before Niahvth," Yesia asserts. "I was already told she'd send me to Monaco, if that happens. She's..." The girl bites her tongue at once, instead saying, "I've got maths," and gesturing vaguely at her book and hides, giving him an apologetic smile. "I should probably do it. Thank you, for talking to me. And can you thank Cadejoth, for watching her? I think she'll be able to get back, when she wakes up." "Farideh has a lot to learn," says K'del, by way of answer. "But she will learn." Whatever his personal feelings on the goldriding weyrling; whatever Yesia's. Hastily, after that: "Yes, yes, of course. Good luck with it-- and you're welcome. Cadejoth was glad to; he likes the little ones." But he doesn't wait for a reply; he turns to leave, to wander back off in the direction he came from, his dragon winging-- lazily-- after him. |
Comments
Roz (22:56, 2 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
I should make one for Yesia too. Both of Farideh's favorite people in one scene! But it was a good one! Loved reading it! :D
Edyis (00:34, 3 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
The skeletor is my favorite. Yesia. Oh Yesia. This was a fun read.
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