Logs:Marked Advice
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| RL Date: 18 July, 2015 |
| Who: Lilah, R'hin, Rosney |
| Involves: Vintner Hall |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lilah runs into R'hin at the Winecraft gather, and R'hin has advice for the acting Weyrwoman. |
| Where: Vintner Hall, Benden Area |
| When: Day 17, Month 4, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, E'dre/Mentions |
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In an area situated a short runner ride from Benden Hold is a chateau-style building with sprawling acres of grape trees and vines. While this is the main building, there are many vintner sub-fields and buildings situated throughout the area. The main hall is made up of separate wings for the masters, journeymen, and apprentices on the second and third floors. Several lecture halls and workrooms make up the first floor, while a large tasting room claims the entryway to the Hall. The day has been a mixture of overcast and light rain, but not even the early spring weather is enough to dissuade many from attending Vintner's first gather of the spring. After all, there's new pressings in the offer, and many are spending their time within the mixture of tents, tasting new wines and ordering their favorites. R'hin, unsurprisingly, is in one of the tents, in low conversation with a familiar figure. Rosney, now a Journeyman, has grown taller and now looks more confident. Although to appearances it looks like they're in the midst of a tasting, with bottles arrayed on the table between them, there's not much actual tasting going on for the moment. Apprentices circle the tent, providing samples to those visiting, and taking orders as requested. It is Fort's Acting Weyrwoman that is the next to duck into this tent on her rounds of the gather, no one accompanying the woman into the tent or perhaps even the gather itself for all that she's been seen lately making calls to Holds accompanied by a certain Benden rider. But tonight, she could be any other dragonrider, perhaps, since she's only clad in the dark leathers she has made into a habit, sans knot as well. An apprentice is there quickly, attentively, and Lilah takes one of the small glasses with a smile already softening her lips. "Thank you," is offered to the young woman, even as her gaze catches on the familiar figure. (Not Rosney.) And inextricably, she is drawn towards their conversation, though she doesn't interrupt. "He hasn't visited the Holds much recently, so some people say. Hard to tell if that's a bad thing or well thought of, though," the tail end of Rosney's words can perhaps be discerned as the Fortian nears, though her approach doesn't go entirely unnoticed. There's a flicker of familiar, pale gaze, and then R'hin's gesturing towards a bottle, the Journeyman smoothly filling a small amount for tasting. After a generous amount of time inspecting and imbibing, the Savannah Wingleader nods his head. "Good. Three of these, I think, and a couple for our friend." A beat, and then he points to a bottle of white, "For the lady." Rosney's glance flickers up towards Lilah, and then he's pouring out a small sample, holding it out for her, while R'hin leans back in his chair, watching. "Thank you," is repeated for the Journeyman in much the same tone as for the apprentice, yet the soft hint of a smile has disappeared from Lilah's lips as she slides a look to R'hin as well. The sample is lifted for a quick drink, before it's set back down on the table to leave her with only the one she was greeted with when she entered, a red and untouched. She questions of Rosney, as an opening for an explanation, perhaps, "A Benden vintage?" "No, actually," Rosney replies, with a sudden smile. "It has a Benden ancestry, but these grapes were grown down South, so they have a slightly earthier taste. Most can't tell the difference." R'hin, for his part, flickers gaze past his companions, examining the other occupants of the tent, an old habit. "Is it? I should pass, then. I really need to find a nice Benden vintage to keep on hand for one of my wingleaders," replies Lilah lightly, conversationally to the Journeyman as her gaze slides back to him to focus on the younger man. She does add, politely, "It was nice, though." "It's cheaper," Rosney replies, with a grin, "And, convincing enough. But, if you're after a nice one," where nice seems to translate to expensive, "Ought to try old Master Ebbert's. His is the one with the queue outside. But I'd be quick, otherwise it'll all be snapped up." "I might have to try, at least, to get a bottle." The Weyrwoman's smile touches her lips again, though it is more political than anything else. She repeats again, simply, "Thank you." Her gaze slides towards R'hin again, briefly, lingering there even if he does not meet it. Finally, she greets almost as a question, "Wingleader." "You might be better served buying a bottle off someone who has already bought one. You know, paying for the privilege of not having to line up," Rosney suggests, only half jokingly. His gaze flickers past the goldrider, and he clears his throat. "Excuse me," he takes one of the bottles and steps away from the pair, towards the well-dressed man standing just in the entrance. R'hin's reply of, "Weyrwoman," has a slightly sardonic twist to it, his gaze tracking Rosney's departure. "You realize that is futile, now," he adds, with a vague gesture in her direction. "Do you know someone who has bought one?" is only half-joking in turn, but then Rosney is excusing himself and Lilah's attention focuses again on R'hin. There is the faintest wrinkle of her nose for the gesture, for the words. "Don't remind me," is a dry counter, fingers lifting almost self-consciously to where the heavier, more intricate knot should sit on her shoulder. "You don't happen to have a bottle, do you?" R'hin's glancing after Rosney, as if interested in who he might be talking to, but soon enough turns his attention to the Fortian, gesturing to a seat in apparent invitation. "If I did, I wouldn't sell it to you, only to have you waste it on another. That would be the real crime." "Not even to bribe one of my wingleaders?" challenges Lilah with a hint of humor, glancing to the seat at the invitation before she folds herself into it gracefully. She finally lifts the other glass to her lips, sipping it slowly as she should. With a cluck of his tongue, R'hin shakes his head, as if disappointed, "You oughn't bribe your Wingleaders. Your Wingleaders ought to bribe you." With a shake of his finger, "You are the one in control. If you don't establish that now, they're going to be walking all over you for the rest of your..." he waves his hand, vaguely. "Am I?" questions Lilah to R'hin's statement, a murmur as she studies the bronzerider. But she finishes that wine and sets it down slowly before she adds, still lowly, "I don't feel in control. I feel less in control." "You are," R'hin repeats, firmly. "You just have to make them see that. First," with a lift of hand, "You have to believe it, since you clearly do not." "It would help if any of them believed it," Lilah replies, though there is a hint of dismissal to her words. "Though, at least, I'm not dealing with it alone. E'dre may have it worse, being only a brownrider." Straightening, the Wingleader's expression hardens, as pale blue eyes seek out hers. "Lilah," R'hin pauses, his voice low and yet intense. "You have Hattie, and N'muir, still there. You are now their Weyrwoman. One, two, three demonstrations of you giving them some order and them obeying it -- it doesn't matter what it is, have N'muir fly to Boll on your command, or Hattie ordered to bed -- will quell doubt. They don't believe because you don't believe, because nothing has changed. For everyone, you are just a figurehead, a stand in, until you prove otherwise." A twist of Lilah's lips meet R'hin's response, and she questions wryly, "You are suggesting I send Hattie to bed without supper to solve their doubt?" A pause, before she adds in a more genuine question, a more genuine worry, "And what if she disobeyed? What then?" "A figure of speech. You can send supper with her, if that makes you feel better," R'hin notes, wryly. "She's been Weyrwoman long enough to know why you'd do it. It might not be easy for her, but if people see her adjusting, then they'll be forced to follow suit. If she disobeys..." the Wingleader spreads his hands. "Then either she can't let go, or she means to claim back her knot. Either way, it's better off for you to know if that's the case now rather than later, don't you think?" "Do I pick some reason randomly? Wait and watch until she steps a toe out of line?" And now, Lilah's questions are more thoughtful as R'hin's suggestion seems to sink deeper into the goldrider's consideration. "She might understand, but I doubt she'd like it. She won't ever consider herself as--." She doesn't finish that, instead lifting her fingers in a light flick. "It doesn't have to be real. You could arrange with her to stage something. It's about the show, not the actual infraction." R'hin's brows flicker upwards at the latter, lips twitching, hand splaying as if to say, see? "You need to get your own house in order before you look at others." Lilah tips her chin in a soft nod for R'hin's suggestion, accepting, and even continuing with a simple, "I will have to see if she is willing. If not-- Well." The firm tone may imply the rest, even as she considers the man across from her. R'hin's, "Good," seems more for the firm tone at the end than anything else. And then he's pushing to his feet, taking a beat there for a moment as he gaze flickers around the tent, to Rosney, still talking with the well-dressed man, and the various apprentices moving around. "Are you leaving already?" Lilah questions as R'hin stands, regardless of how long he has been at the gather. Her gaze rises with him, but she does not. "Places to be, people to see," R'hin replies, all-too-easily, all intensity leeched from his voice. "As I'm sure you do." He takes two steps past, sways, and pauses for a moment like that was his intention all along, letting out a sharp breath, as he adds: "Everything you do is political now, whether you want it to be or not." Lilah does not answer that in words, only the tip of her chin upwards and the curve of brows in a challenge. And then the expectant silence that follows as she watches him, waiting. R'hin stands there, for longer than is ordinary, gaze not on her so much as the others in the tent, as if distracted by them. Then, finally, he's moving for the exit, though he pauses to catch Rosney's ear for a brief moment, clapping the Journeyman on the back before he leaves. It is not surprise that registers on Lilah's expression for the lack of an answer, but a moment's regret as her dark gaze follows after him rather than being spared for anyone in the tent. As soon as he starts to move away, she does offer a simple, "Fort's duties, Wingleader." As ever, there's no parting farewell from the Reachian bronzerider, and certainly not to the official-like farewell she bids him. Later, maybe, if she's outside, she'll catch sight of him not amongst the color and allure of the tents, but by Leiventh's side, hunched in the cold, seemingly waiting. For what isn't clear, since they're gone some time later. |
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