Logs:Knot Or Noose?
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2013 |
| Who: Leova, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Leova and Madilla talk through the latest developments the morning Aishani's knot is found in the caverns. |
| Where: Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 1, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Anvori/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, I'daur/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
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| Kitchen, High Reaches Weyr
The remaining wall space is taken up by passageways and extra seating: swinging doors that lead variously to the main living cavern, the inner caverns and the storage rooms, a counter-height pass-through for food service to the Snowasis, and a series of nooks equipped with tables and benches for quick, out-of-the-way meals any time of day.
That alcove may be empty and the one after that occupied, but that second alcove's occupied by a Glacier wingrider, not that she's wearing her knot today. "Madilla," Leova calls in a muted voice. The riding jacket next to her is oversized even by her standards, an old one, battered. That jacket's a familiar one, though not as familiar as the rusty-haired greenrider; Madilla's steps, which had intended to carry her towards the alcove, adjust automatically. "Leova," she says, on approach, her plate slid onto the table, her body slid into the alcove across from the other woman a moment later. "Good morning," the greenrider says, wishes. A little while later, "Was supposed to be Anvori's day off." She's still got some food on her plate, but the thin layer of gravy's been there long enough that it's hardened, holding the thin lines her fork tines scrape through it. She adds another now, just one line with just one tine, shallow curves. It's not a good morning, and Madilla's mouth twists in acknowledgement of it, though she doesn't repeat the greeting; perhaps it simply goes without saying. "Oh," she says, something like a sigh. "And now... I didn't expect any of this." Her face is drawn, and though she picks up her fork, it hovers over her food rather than digging in to it. "Who did?" It comes out tiredly. The greenrider holds the fork upright, the tines wedged within the solified gravy, the handle barely balanced between two of her forefingers. She isn't letting it fall over. She looks at Madilla, now. "Don't know what to think. Must be more than just... that." That very public proclamation. "It must be," agrees Madilla, quietly, turning her own fork over in her hands, shifting it from one hand to the other. "There must be. I know things haven't been going terribly well, with the tithes," and she winces even for mention of that, her eyes a little wide and unhappy, "but... I didn't think... I'm so tired of all this instability, Leova." The greenrider's slow nod carries all of her agreement. "It can't be much longer," she says. "Less than a Turn. Two at the most. Or less than that: only one goldrider left, after all." The way she says it, there's a taste in her mouth like klah gone bad. Turns go faster than they used to, now, but even so, Madilla's expression suggests, without her needing to say it outright, that another turn - or two - is far longer than she'd like. "What if Iesaryth rises first?" she wonders, abruptly. "Does that not count, now that she's... one gets the impression she's giving it all up, not just the 'acting' bit." That makes Leova's expression turn further. "I don't," she begins again. "I don't know. How do you get that already, one knot hung up like that? Did she put it there, did someone else find her knot and move it like a joke? Did she do the others too? If Iesaryth," but she stops, setting the fork aside. "That's what people in the caverns are saying. Alieva told me she tried to drop something in with Aishani this morning, and was directed to Azaylia. But--" But the point is that no one knows, yet, and Madilla is obviously uncertain about it. "Those nooses were frightful. I like to think she wouldn't have done that. Or this. I've never liked that she lied, and... I wish I knew. I hope Azaylia steps up, very publicly. At least that will make people feel like we have leadership." "Did Azaylia take it?" Leova questions right away. "Didn't like it either. The lying. But. Think she was trying, this last while, to do right by the place. Can't know everything, wish she hadn't turned even that third back. But. Reckon that if she'd meant to screw it over, we'd be minus everyone's tithe by now, minus half the wingleaders and worse." Those dark-shadowed eyes stay with the healer, her friend. "Let's say she did mean to come in to screw things up, even. Lied about something that important, who she was, what that meant. For her family. A woman sets out to do one thing, can't she have a change of heart?" Madilla has an answer for that first question, given the way her mouth opens, and it involves a shake of her head - but it isn't necessarily a 'no, Azaylia didn't take it'. She's distracted from that answer, though, by the rest of what the greenrider has to say; it has her sitting back in her chair, her fiddling coming to a halt, her gaze resting squarely on the other woman. "She can," she says, abruptly firm. "And I think she must have. It's a difficult job, and I do think she did the best she could." The greenrider nods. Once. "A woman like that. Can she never be believed again?" She doesn't speak of trust. "I'm--" Madilla pauses. "I can understand why it will be difficult. For some people to believe her, to trust her motivations, to... acknowledge that she has done some good things, genuinely good things. Like the crafter representative, even if H'kon isn't so sure of the goodness of that. I am." "Where is H'kon ever so sure of goodness?" Leova says rather wryly, but with less of that containment of before. Madilla can smile at that, at least: amused, and not exactly inclined to disagree. "I wonder," she says, "who Azaylia will make Acting Weyrleader. That must also be up for grabs now, I think? More changes." "If she thought she had 'friends' before, just wait." There's regret in those amber eyes. "Could speculate." But Leova's looking at Madilla: does she even want her to? "It's not a position I'd want to be in. Though," it's Madilla's turn to look rueful. "I'm very glad not to be a weyrwoman at all. Go on - what do you think?" "Good thing you're not likely to, then." Leova says it with some amusement, even. "Not either of us. Her shoes? Would think of what I wanted it to be. /Wouldn't/ pick a bronzerider for Acting, or even brown, say something right there. Not so many choices as would make sense, but I'd make it work." Madilla grins in response, even: a very good thing. The grin doesn't last, though that's mostly because she's taken to looking thoughtful, nodding once in answer to Leova's speculations. "Someone who can't be Weyrleader," she sums up. "After the flight." "Right. Her, though?" Leova eyes her mug. Shrugs. Drinks from it anyway. "You know Glacier was shadowing the pair of them, after the last one. Saw her up close. Reckon she might go with someone she can think knows what he's talking about. Someone as who'll tell her what to do. Someone other people seem to 'like.' Different from Taikrin, too, the way he goes about what he does." Again that one-shouldered shrug. "Might be, that works best for her." "That seems sensible, in this situation," says Madilla, sounding thoughtful. "Someone experienced, to counteract all the impressions of youth and inexperience. But," she adjusts her fork in her hand again, as if she's only just remembered she's still holding it. "I suppose we'll have to see what she thinks to do. Who she thinks to turn to. I imagine it's easier, having it taken out of your hands, in a flight." "It's not as though there won't be volunteers, even with the place a mess." Leova glances at Madilla's fork, then back at the other woman. "Vrianth, most times. Definitely. A weyrwoman, for the Weyr? Can't imagine so. But maybe." Madilla's mouth draws together. "Well," she says, clarifying, a moment later, "Maybe not easier. I imagine there's plenty of dread, and especially after last time. But there's that sense of... you can't control it, not completely. So you need to let go, and hope for the best. If that is better." She's probably thinking better of that idea, now. "'The dragons know.'" Leova looks at the table, looks beyond the table. Quietly, "Like to think they do, you know. Don't mean chance don't play a role. Or people, perverting it. Like, too, to think there's more than one right way. Picking someone with a lot of ties, picking someone independent, if people try to make it work." She gives Madilla a half-smile. "Locking all the wingleaders up until they choose. Somehow. Or starve." Given the look on Madilla's face, she can think of several flights that might have gone differently, had there not been intervention; her nod is slow and careful, as a result, the visible follow-on from her considered thoughts. "At least then you'd have the support of the Wingleaders," she supposes. "But you're right: there's always more than one right way. The important thing is to not dither about it too long, though I'm scarcely the best person to talk about that." "Do have recent experience," Leova points out for Madilla's qualifications, wryly. "And. Dithering. Going to put your breakfast out of its misery, or am I going to have to get you lunch?" Madilla makes a face, both for her qualifications, and for her breakfast, which she seems to have forgotten again. "Did you eat enough?" she counters. "Do I need to get them to fix you up something fresh?" She does put her fork into action now, finally, scooping up some of her steadily cooling breakfast to put it into her mouth. "Ate enough," the greenrider says, narrowing her eyes at the healer. "There's just less room than there used to be. Now. I'll sit and watch you, and shut up so you can't blame me for distracting you." Madilla, very grown up and responsible Weyrhealer and mother of two, sticks out her tongue. "You can't blame me for keeping an eye on you," she says, cheerfully enough, as she digs her fork in again. "We have to eat while there are still supplies in the storerooms, after all." That makes Leova smile, at first, but then she can only push her plate away. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Knot Or Noose?"Aishani (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 25 Jun 2013 16:31:39 GMT.
I really enjoyed this. I love their sense of perspective. It's always interesting.
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