Logs:Nice and Polite
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| RL Date: 7 February, 2015 |
| Who: Devaki, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Hold, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lord Holder and Weyrleader have a brief, polite conversation at Lady Issedi's turnday celebrations. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 11, Month 13, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Dilan/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Teris/Mentions |
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| This afternoon's celebrations are in full swing; it's stopped snowing, at least, though the air is cold with a side of what-are-you-doing-outside-are-you-crazy. K'del's youngest children are plainly too little to be out in this, and the older ones - teenagers and pre-teens all - are more inclined to stay away from him where possible... at least once they have a few small-denomination marks in hand. It's left K'del at a loose end, meandering stalls and displays with a mug of cider in hand; visible, but not especially trying to be. Devaki's children are rugged up against the High Reaches cold, are in the keeping of Issedi and Diendra, the nanny already looking rather frazzled, carrying Alani on her hip. They're gathered next to the pies stall, which seems to be taking the attention off mischief and focusing it elsewhere for a time or two, giving their father an opportunity to survey the gatherers circulating today. Thus, when Devaki's gaze lights on K'del, it's with some surprise and a slight tightening of features, all of which are masked beneath polite interest as the former Exile makes his way over to deliberately intercept the Weyrleader. "I hadn't expected..." a beat, a quick smile, that doesn't have a great deal of warmth behind it "...quite so many Weyrfolk to attend." K'del half-turns in order to better face the Lord Holder, his own smile pleasantly bland as he does so. "It's winter; any excuse to get out of the Weyr and have some fun. We'd be glad to return the hospitality at turn's end, if you'd care to visit, then." He pushes his hands more deeply into the pockets of his coat, acknowledging the other man with a forward tip of his head. "My congratulations to your lady wife, of course." With a long pause, Devaki seems to weigh up the offer as he comes to a halt a couple of paces away from the bronzerider, head tipping briefly to one side. "If my lady wife is well enough to travel by then, perhaps we will. She would dearly love to see your Weyrwoman; I'd imagine the writing only goes so far." His expression says, girl stuff, and yet there's a subtext of satisfaction that his lady and his are on friendly terms. His lips twitch at the latter: "Thank you. She's hoping for a boy. I'm just hoping Daroda being here will ease her mind. She frets so often about her pregnancies, even if this is her fifth." Their fifth. "I had," a beat, and a wider smile, "Quite an interesting and enlightening conversation with your newest junior a few days ago. She seems... compelling. I'm sure she'll fit nicely at the Weyr." K'del's nod is one of understanding. "Weyrwoman Ali is due in a couple of months," he puts in, managing not to sound competitive about it. "It always means that some things get put on hold, but-- when it makes her so happy." When it makes him so happy! "Hope she gets that son, then. You met Irianke." It's a little flat, except for that faint note of curiosity and interest. "She's-- certainly an interesting woman. We're lucky to have her. She was eager to attend, I know." "Oh, yes. I'd forgotten you've staked a claim on multiple goldriders," Devaki says, with a lift of gaze skyward, as if it's impossible for him to keep track. "Azaylia, Ali... Iolene. Hm. There was another there doing the rumors, wasn't there? That other dead goldrider?" He snaps his fingers, as if he can't quite remember. "Mm. I'm sure you'll make Irianke feel as... welcome, as your other goldriders." Nearby, over his shoulder, the red-headed Other can probably be seen, the guard Captain not bothering to pretend to be interested in anything other than what his Lord is interested in, and who is interested in his Lord. K'del manages, despite himself, not to react to Devaki; he schools his expression to something placidly neutral and says, only, "I'm a happily weyrmated man, Devaki. Come now; I've no interest in anyone but my weyrmate, no more than you have interest in any other than your lovely wife." His brows arch; unless, of course...? His gaze flicks about, not lingering; yes, he's seen Raum. "Mm," Devaki seems to shrug, as if not overly convinced. "What's that saying that... oh, felines and stripes. Never much understood that, since most felines don't have stripes. Mainlanders," he gives a sharp snort of amusement. He doesn't exactly deny the latter accusation, either, just smiles that polite smile. Raum shifts, briefly, then relaxes: a moment later, a small blonde figure thumps into Devaki's leg, clinging. Esiara beams up at her father with a face that has some sort of berry sauce spread all over it, then belatedly seems to noticed K'del, peering shyly at him. Dropping his hand to the girl's hand, her father says: "Esi, this is K'del. He's a rider. And a Weyrleader." Like the last is an afterthought. The blonde girl beams her smile at K'del, too, and gives him a shy, "Hi." "In that case," says K'del, making his comment regardless of the arrival of Esiara, though he's certainly noticed - and smiled at - her, "I do hope your marriage is one of those rare happily-ever-after situations; wouldn't want you to have to learn how to open yourself to loving again." It's as he finishes that that he begins to squat, putting himself a level much closer to the little girl. "Hello, Esi. Having a good time? How old are you?" Devaki, likewise, isn't deterred from the conversation by the arrival of one of his daughters; his tone is kept casual and light-hearted. "I'm sure I can come to you for pointers, you're the expert." Esiara puffs out her chest at the question. "Nearly four," which probably means three in kid terms; Devaki bends down to pick the girl up and settle her on his hip. "What've you been eating?" The girl squirms and giggles, then says, "Bubblies." She lifts fingers to her mouth, then holds fingers towards K'del. "In many things, Lord Devaki. In many things." K'del draws himself back up to his full height as Esiara gets lifted up - surely a more comfortable position for him - and smiles again at the girl. "I've a little girl's nearly four, too. Not so little now, I guess!" It's a good thing he's used to small children: that her fingers are no doubt sticky doesn't seem to cross his hand as he reaches out to shake her hand; whether or not it's what she intended, it's what he'll allow. "Bet the bubblies were good. Always better on gather days, huh?" Esiara giggles as the Weyrleader takes her hand, afterwards sticking her fingers back into her mouth with an agreeable nod at his words. Devaki's expression tightens marginally, as if overly unimpressed with the interaction. He carefully deposits the girl back on the ground, "Go and find Diendra, Esi." With a grin, the girl skips off back towards her siblings and the harried nanny. While he watches her depart, the Lord observes casually, "The daughter of a Weyrwoman and a Weyrleader, growing up at a Weyr. I'm sure she'll turn out fine." Having waved his farewells to Esiara, K'del extracts a handkerchief from his pocket, calmly wiping his fingers clean again as he considers Devaki's words. "Mm," he agrees, placidly. "I'm sure she will. Your son seems to have, after all, as I understand. Not," he allows, "that his parents are Weyrleaders, but a Lord Holder and Healer Master is certainly nothing to sneeze at." The smile that the Lord offers might have a shade of forcefulness to it, though his tone is easy to match the Weyrleader's. "Dee understands his heritage. And he understands, too, what was taken from his people." Their people. Devaki waves a hand, "He wants to Impress a brown. Perhaps he'll end up your Weyrleader. AFter all, from what I understand, your leaders are chosen on merit of your dragons." "Brownriders," says K'del, easily, "Are rarely Weyrleaders. I do look forward to continued strong relations between our two great homes; should Dilan Impress and rise through the ranks on merit, it will be good to know he has such positive ties with your hold." His smile is a fraction more genuine for that. "Although, on the other hand, your own sister is one of our riders, so... who can know." "And yet... weren't they?" Devaki purses his lips as if in recall. "Taikrin, and H'kon." There's a dismissive twitch of shoulders at K'del's own mention of merit, though whatever he was planning to say is ceased at his mention of Evali, face gone tight for a moment. "Who can know," he says, levelly. "One can only hope another's dragon fucks your Weyrwoman's." Which Weyrwoman, he doesn't exactly specify. K'del's own expression goes cold; as cold as the air around them. "You can hope for whatever you like," he says, in answer. "And so shall I. Good day, Devaki. Please do pass on my best wishes to your wife." If there's a hint of satisfaction in the exile Lord's expression, he keeps it hidden well under polite response: "I will," is given in turn, as much to the former as the latter comment, before he turns to rejoin the rest of his family. |
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Comments
Roz (21:51, 7 February 2015 (EST)) said...
Wow. How old are you two again? Putting the /teenagers/ to shame. <3
Edyis (22:41, 7 February 2015 (EST)) said...
And you two were being so well behaved...
Azaylia (23:24, 7 February 2015 (EST)) said...
Goodness! Lord and Weyrleader got claws, ya'll! <3 Some things never change.
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