Logs:Inter-Weyr Relations
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| RL Date: 3 February, 2012 |
| Who: Ali, K'del, N'muir |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr, Southern Boll Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: N'muir and Ali come to High Reaches to talk about K'del's actions. The meeting does... not go well. |
| Where: Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 12, Turn 27 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, Jivrain/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort -- meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest. Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever hidework requires particularly frequent attention. A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind.
Cadejoth's reply is as effervescently delighted as ever-- he rattles his chains at both of the visiting dragons, though visible, too, is that fine mesh that he uses, just subtly, to remind them that this is /his/ weyr, and they stay with his permission. Surely they know where the council chambers are; Cadejoth does not deign to point them out. Inside, K'del stands, looking as though he's recently shrugged into his formal jacket and run a comb through his hair; he's alone, and his expression is-- neutral? Difficult to read. Ali, by contrast, doesn't appear quite so sober as N'muir -- perhaps due, in part, to Isyath's pleasure at being away from Fort for the first time in some while. Not moments after she touches down, Isyath's in the skies, albeit with not quite the same grace as she's normally allowed. "Fort's duties to High Reaches and her queens," the junior greets K'del, with a little curtsy and -- perhaps noticed, the faintest of smiles -- that fades fairly quickly under the gravity of the two men's expressions. And then she's looking at N'muir, clearly taking her cue from Fort's Weyrleader. It's a good thing Ali gives the greetings as it doesn't look like N'muir is going to until he is well and reminded of them. The Fortian bronzerider just stares forward at K'del, warm brown eyes keeping guarded his emotions but for the obvious discontent that can't be kept from the set of his jaw or the arches of his brows. He gives the smallest inclinations of his head, dark curls hardly disturbed about his shoulders. "Fort duties," he echoes quietly in her wake lest the words need to be said twice to be politically polite. "How were you hoping this would go?" he questions, dodging any other light conversation that might normally have accompanied such a visit. "And High Reaches' to Fort's, of course. Cadejoth tells me that Isyath is looking lovely; I hope the clutch is a good one." It's possible that there's an apology in K'del's glance to Ali - for the flight? For this whole situation? For something else? If so, it doesn't linger: no, K'del is smoothly indicating the table, and the liquor cabinet behind it. "Shall we sit? Would either of you like a drink? Or something softer-- klah? Juice? If you'd given us warning of your visit," his tone is almost chiding, "My Weyrwoman would also be in attendance. Unfortunately, she has duties elsewhere." It's not really an answer to N'muir's question: perhaps that's even deliberate. They might, however, have noticed that despite his apparently calm exterior, there's sweat on the young Weyrleader's brow. There's a slight press of lips from Ali at N'muir's abruptness, though she takes her time to seat herself, presumably in the hopes that the two Weyrleaders will follow suit, and indeed, after the look at her own Weyrleader she briefly touches hand to the chair arm on her left as if in subtle invitation. "Thank you, sir," the dark-haired junior smiles to K'del, pleased as ever by any mention of Isyath, regardless of the situation. "She's still several sevens from clutching, but we're hopeful." Of a gold? Or a big clutch? She doesn't clarify, and instead folds hands in her lap. "Some juice, if you wouldn't mind." N'muir sinks eyes into Ali but he does follow suit and fold himself into the chair she indicates, occupying it with an energy that is purposeful and not comforted by K'del's offers of drinks. Ali may well tame him yet. Maybe. Maybe not. "Warning? Like the warning you gave us when you decided to involve yourself with another Weyr's Hold? Or the warning you gave us when you sent your dragonriders to our Weyr to intervene in something that was of no business of Reaches'?" N'muir cants his head to one side. "I got the impression that you were into /surprises/, since you seemed so keen to give us so many." Ali's request for juice does, at least, give K'del reason to be facing the other way as N'muir talks, which may be for the best: if they could see his expression, they'd know he's aiming daggers at the wall. As he turns back, however, he's managed to compose himself again, to set Ali's glass in front of her before he takes a seat opposite the Fortian pair. "Under-- As I understand it," he says, carefully, "Boll can hardly be called 'your' Hold at present, given the fact that your Weyrwoman withdrew your weyr from the area, /four months ago/. Is it so impossible to understand that he might look elsewhere?" Ali's not exactly comfortable with conflict, and N'muir's tone draws her gaze with a slight tightening of expression -- the goldrider not exactly an expert at concealing her warning look. There's a grateful smile from the Fortian junior as K'del passes her her juice; she takes a brief sip before setting it down on the table. "I think what Weyrleader N'muir is trying to say," she finally interjects, with a low voice, "Is that your... assistance... isn't helping us to resolve our problem. I'm sure you understand... with Tillek, and Telgar?" N'muir shoots a firm look at K'del. "Is that what happened? Boll approached /you/ and asked for your services?" he asks. "And you didn't think it at all necessary to check with the Weyr it's beholden to? Had you spoken with Fort Weyr you'd have found out we /didn't/ withdraw from the Hold and I'd met with Lord Boll numerous times since that Gather." When Ali steps into the conversation, he maintains that hard look across the table at the other man and leaves her gentler voice to add political tenderness where its so obviously needed. "Really?" K'del's tone is impassive, except that hints of frustration are now increasingly obvious around the edges, and in his expression, too. "In my experience, threatening and arresting the men of a Hold you're attempting to repair relations with does absolute /wonders/," however, is said drying. "Look. Do understand your situation; I do. Got difficult lords of my own to deal with. And sure, I'd rather things were all good between you and Boll. But they aren't, and you keep inflaming the situation, as far as I can see. Why shouldn't Boll look elsewhere, when they're dealing with this? If you want them back, you need to make them /need/ you. Can't just take them for granted, or react emotionally over everything. And until you're trying to do that, I have my own weyr to look out for." Ali's pale features are highlighted with a splash of color to her cheeks as K'del brings up the incident with the Boll tithe train. She has no comeback for that, and indeed, the way her gaze drops and her fingers fold tightly together suggests that on /that/ particular assessment she may well agree with the High Reaches Weyrleader... not that she'd ever dare voice it aloud. N'muir's mouth opens in disbelief for one short-lived moment before it's closed. "K'del, I don't understand why you would do this!" he exclaims. "Fort has /never/ tried to take anything from you; when you've had trouble we've left you to handle your own the way you saw fit - we /respected/ whatever decisions you chose for your own area. What gives you the right to take Boll from us - regardless of whatever condition our relationship is in with them?" He leans forward in his chair. "You are not the Weyrleader of /Pern/," he mutters darkly. "What happens when another Weyr gets it in their mind to take /your/ Holds from you? And all of Pern ignites into a bitter war over Holds from coast to coast? We are all in need. You don't know the violence that you've just invited into what should have been a peaceful Interval. We can't turn against each other like this. You have to see reason and pull your riders out of Boll." "I?" K'del has disbelief of his own. "What /I/ have done? You say that, when your Weyrwoman said such provocative things to Lord Boll? When your /spy/, who had been caught and kicked out, returned to attend Lord Jivrain's party? When you threatened and imprisoned Lord Jivrain's men, your people turning against them? What /I/ have done?" He counts off on his fingers as he speaks; he's obviously well informed. Once he's done, presses his hand tightly onto the table. "Repair your relations with Boll, Fort, and I will withdraw from my agreement with them. We aren't stealing your hold; we aren't occupying it. My riders are providing services as required, no more and no less. Prove to Boll that they need you, and we will be gone." His gaze shifts, regarding Ali for a moment, but whatever he thinks of her reaction, he makes no remark on it. The mention of violence turns Ali's gaze towards N'muir with a widening of eyes, startled and afraid, suddenly. She reaches out and touches a hand to his wrist, lightly. "No one said anything about war. It's just-- we just need time to /fix/ it," she says, gaze shifting back to K'del. The wince that she gives at the list the High Reaches Weyrleader provides indicates just how aware she is of how big a task it is. "If you could just... give us a couple of sevens, maybe. Just tell the Lord you're stretched for resources, briefly--?" she suggests, though there's a tentativeness to the words. At K'del's words, N'muir is infused with a vicious heat that engulfs him and snaps him straight up in his chair. "If I could have stopped her I would have," he admits in a mutter. "You cannot step beyond your boundaries and assume to know everything about your neighbors," is warned. "It is none of your business how we conduct things with our beholden. We would never remark on what you do with yours. We were /holding/ the guards until we had found out what had happened to the rest of the tithe that was reported to have been sent from Boll. Or did you not hear that? That Boll reported crates sent, and the crates were half empty? Wouldn't you suspect thieves? Wouldn't you want to be able to tell your weyrfolk that you did all that you could to investigate why they would have to suffer?" It's just as well that Ali pipes up as he falls silent and leans back in his chair, eyes staring off into the distance with frustration flaring. K'del's remark is very quiet, "And yet, your young weyrwoman here seems disquieted by mention of that very same incident, as though she finds it-- distasteful, Ali? Discomforting? No, Fort, I don't know all of what goes on within your borders, and no, it's not my place to judge - but it's frankly laughable for you to lecture /me/ in this situation." His expression softens a little as he considers Ali's request, but his head shakes. "Wish I could, but no. Believe me, I do want this sorted out, but you've had /four months/, and all I've seen is more mess. Come back to me, show me that you've a plan to fix relations, that you've sorted out your internal issues, and I'll withdraw." Is that sympathy? One Weyrleader to another, understanding the difficulties of strong Weyrwoman. "Shells, I'll even help you, if I can. But until then? High Reaches has agreed to provide services to Boll." Calling out Ali's reaction, even if it was blindly obvious to everyone in the room, probably doesn't do K'del any favors: the Fortian junior goes pale, shaking her head sharply. "I think we're done here, sir," she finally voices, a little unevenly, letting her hand drop from N'muir's wrist, standing. "Issy would like to return to Fort." It's a lie of convenience, of course: both Weyrleader's dragons can see the Fortian queen circling the skies, can hear her contentment. "Come back to you?" N'muir echoes, face snarling with the insult of K'del's words. He stands to his feet, chair yelping in surprise at his rough movement. "You've insulted Fort Weyr too many times, K'del; you have gone too far. You /will/ regret this." It's not a threat but a dreary warning. "We all will." N'muir then inclines his head in as brief a farewell as manners permit before turning for the exit. Cadejoth, for all his unnecessary reminders at their arrival, is given a half-cheerful bugle from Bijedth as he waits for N'muir to mount and strap his gloomy self into place. K'del has nothing more to say, not even to Ali-- though perhaps his expression holds yet another apology; it's hard to say. He stands, waiting until both riders have departed his council chambers before his expression breaks: it's a good thing he doesn't thump the table as hard as he'd probably like, else another broken hand might be the order of the day. |
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