Logs:Positive Outcomes?
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 20 January, 2016 |
| Who: Farideh, Jocelyn, Tevrane |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Nabol Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: High Reaches' weyrwomen meet with Lady Nabol concerning the tithes. |
| Where: Nabol Hold |
| When: Day 16, Month 11, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Gelstad/Mentions |
| Storyteller: K'del/ST |
   |
| "It will do," Farideh sighs at her fellow goldrider, after her initial assessment -- complete with a full spin -- of her attire and appearance for the meeting with Lady Tevrane. "It is, after all, just a meeting," she murmurs, whether to alleviate her own anxiety of the weyrling's is unclear. They leave directly from the weyrleaders' complex, and ascend into the Hold's courtyard in the midst of a gentle downpour. Once they've made it within the doors, and Farideh has handed her cloak to an oh-so-helpful member of the lady's staff, she turns away from the mirror she had been admiring herself in to address Jocelyn one last time before they meet the lady: "Remember your posture. Smile. Don't speak unless directly spoken to. We'll be fine," with the last spoken on a gentle arm squeeze, and then they're being led to the lady in question. Jocelyn, who is coiffed to within an inch of her life in what's probably a first for her, lifts an eyebrow for Farideh's assurance; "Just a meeting, " she echoes dryly before they leave, awkwardly gathering up her skirts to mount and depart. Heeled boots make it harder to dash through the rain for Nabol's doors, but she manages, and likewise surrenders her own cloak to the staff member who meets them in the entry. She spares a glance for the mirror from behind Farideh, one hand reaching up to pat self-consciously at the simple chignon that her hair has been wrestled into before she nods for each of the other goldrider's points, chin lifting. "We'll be fine, " she repeats - and then they're off. It's much too late to worry now. Unlike Edeline, who likes to play power games with her guests and leave them to wait, Tevrane has no time for such foolishness; her guests are led directly into a simple meeting room, and there is the lady herself, sitting at a small round table. Tevrane's not one to over-dress, favouring divided skirts and blouses rather than fine gowns, her hair pinned up simply. Now, as her guests arrive, her chin lifts to acknowledge them, though she doesn't stand. "Weyrwomen. Do come in." The walk to the meeting room is taken in silence, though Farideh is wont to admire any vase, painting, or otherwise that they pass with keen eyes. It's when they finally see the lady that her mouth curves into a genuine smile and she inclines her head in deference to Lady Nabol. "Lady Tevrane, good afternoon," she greets the older woman. "It's lovely to see you again. I hope we find you well." Stepping closer to the table and gesturing, with one gloved hand, to the redheaded goldrider, she says, "I don't think you've met Jocelyn yet." Beat. "And of course, our Weyrleader sends his best regards, and regrets that he couldn't be present." Because if this ship is sinking, K'del is going down with them! It's the first time that Jocelyn's been addressed as 'weyrwoman'; if it surprises her, she manages to hide it well, arranging her features into something relatively pleasant and even. Her eyes, though? They're sharp as they study Tevrane, taking in the lady's manner of dress, the way she sits - the way she stays sitting. A side-glance shoots toward Farideh, observing her greeting; she stays a careful two-steps behind, only taking a stride closer when her colleague motions toward her. "Lady Tevrane, " she says politely with a dip of her chin, alto crisp. "Oh? He didn't send the pair of you deliberately?" Tevrane's smile encourages no bullshit, though whether that's what she really wants... it's hard to tell. "Good to meet you," she adds to Jocelyn. "I'm sure this is considered good practice for you, or something along those lines. You'll sit? I'm sure someone can fetch you a drink or something if you'd like." She waves an airy hand towards the man who stands by the door, one part guard and one part attendant. Farideh's smile freezes in place at the lady's frankness, but soon smooths out as she catches herself and moves to take a seat. "Deliberate in the sense that we wanted to make a good showing, with our Weyrwoman being indisposed. Jocelyn has not had much actual practice with this type of meeting, and I've got more to learn in the way decision-making," she divulges, sitting and spreading her dark blue skirts in a pleasing manner. "I'm fine, but thank you, Lady Tevrane." It's to Jocelyn that her eyes lift next; there's no intent, just expectation for the other woman to take a seat. The corners of Jocelyn's mouth twitch faintly down before her lips stretch into a slow, steady smile for Lady Nabol. "I appreciate being permitted the opportunity, " she responds, tone deliberately light. As she takes a seat next to Farideh, careful to smooth her eggshell and navy-trimmed skirts: "I'd enjoy a glass of water, if it isn't a trouble." A gloved hand lifts to smooth unnecessarily at the collar of her dress's jacket before rejoining its mate in her lap, where they'll remain under the table until her drink arrives. Tevrane seems, frankly, amused. "Now you're implying that your Weyrleader wouldn't make a good showing, is that it? No--" She lifts a hand. "Don't answer that. I'll choose to take nothing from it, and focus, instead, upon why we're actually here." The nod of her head towards the man at the door sends him off, presumably to fetch Jocelyn's water, though Tevrane says nothing verbally. Instead, she folds her hands upon the table and says, "So. Perhaps you'll explain to me, in detail, why you delivered Gelstad's tithes." That Farideh's lips quirk faintly at the lady holder's words could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. "Yes, Lady Tevrane. We were assisting his holding with repairs and harvesting, as we have been doing in the coverage area where needed. It has never been a problem before now, but when we were finishing up-- Holder Gelstad came to me and he seemed nervous. He told me he wanted us to take his tithes. He told me that if we didn't talk them, that he would burn them. I thought it wise to take them back to the Weyr and deliver them to you later, else the madman decided to burn them altogether." She clasps her hands in her lap, gaze steady on Tevrane. "He seemed unnecessarily upset." Another side-glance darts from Jocelyn to Farideh, the hint of a frown tugging at her features. Whether it's for what could be implied about their weyrleader - or simply an expression indicative of concentration - is anyone's guess. While her gaze lingers on the other goldrider during her explanation, however, that furrow in her brow briefly deepens before she smooths it away. She takes in a breath, releases it, works to school the set of her mouth away from that thin line it's in as she swallows. For now, at least, she's still mindful of most of her instructions, turning her attention back to Tevrane to better observe her reaction, her response. "Nervous? Why did he want you to take the tithes?" Tevrane doesn't let the intensity of her gaze be interrupted by the return of her man, who deposits a glass of water with Jocelyn; she doesn't seem to notice him. "You call him a madman. Why?" Her attention slides from Farideh towards Jocelyn, something in her expression challenging the redhead to say something-- perhaps she's noticed that furrow, that expression. "Holder Gelstad avowed that during the plague your priorities lied in saving yourself and your family, while your Hold and minor Holds suffered without aid. That you continue to ignore their plights. As he put, "she will feel loss as we have". In so many words. And he implied that many of the Holds under your protection felt the same," Farideh answers, quite bluntly, and again her gaze does not waver from the other woman; not even for Jocelyn's staring and furrowing. "Anyone who threatens to burn all of our livelihoods-- sacrificing allegiance with both Hold and Weyr-- has obviously taken leave of his senses. A sincere, "Thank you, " passes from Jocelyn to the attendant as he returns with her water. She brings the glass to her mouth for a careful sip just in time for that question and Farideh's subsequent answer. If she almost chokes on her swallow, eyebrows shooting upward, she at least gets it resolved quickly and sets her drink back down a safe distance from the edge of the table - or her elbow. "Lady Tevrane, " she interjects calmly on the tail end of Farideh's words while looking at the holder, unable to keep silent any longer, "Gelstad's expression of discontent could be indicative of a bigger problem than some grumbling for self-righteous retribution among your people. I heard his daughter tell one of my fellow weyrlings that he feels the 'big holds' are 'middle men, ' if you'll forgive the term, in a transaction for care from the Weyr." Apologetic distaste colors her tone for that idea. Frankly, "That may be nothing more than a dramatic embellishment by a young woman hoping to create sensation, but if it isn't - you've a right to know how they feel, where the wind could blow when addressing it." Instructions? What instructions? Tevrane's lip press together, quietly indicative of her mood, though she's not frosty the way Edeline can be. "I see," is what she says, at the end of it, rapping her knuckles upon the wood of the table as she leans back in her chair. "So you've come here to tell me that my holders don't like me very much. How very delightful." From the moment that the weyrling opens her mouth, Farideh's expression gets a little frosty and stiff, despite the smile that is perpetually pinned to her face. Her fingers in her lap squeeze so tight that the knuckles turn white. And when Tevrane replies, she takes a deep breath before carrying on, "I apologize, Lady Tevrane. We did not mean to insult you at all. Indeed, we may have overstepped our boundaries. We simply meant to confer with you and share what we knew about the incident and the general atmosphere of our dealings with Holder Gelstad." She, notably, does not acknowledge Jocelyn at all. In for a quarter-mark, in for a full; Jocelyn doesn't appear to expect Farideh's acknowledgment, not when she's leaning forward the smallest bit. Earnestly, "Someone once told me that the hardest part of being a leader is making and living with those decisions that you think are best in the long run. They won't be favorably received across the board, but if you've done the best you could do with what knowledge was available to you, someone will be able to look back turns from now and say that you did what you felt was necessary for the longevity of your people as a whole. Forgive us, " forgive me, "for overstepping, but I think we're all well aware that we have a symbiotic relationship. It's in everyone's best interest for all of the facts to be known. No one leader can make a good, a just decision if they don't have enough information to understand what their people see as truth - regardless if it truly is or isn't." There's no affected artifice in the weyrling's words or manner, nothing at all to indicate that her spiel is anything but genuine. Her regard remains steady. Tevrane's mood does not improve as Farideh speaks... and then, abruptly, as Jocelyn opens her mouth the Lady turns her head to regard her, evenly. At the end? She laughs. "I like you," she says. "No nonsense where you come from, is there? All right. Let's say I do have a little bit of a public relations issue. Are you able to tell me where? We are, as you say, in a symbiotic relationships. You have transport; I do not." And while Tevrane's mood improves, Farideh's does nothing of the sort. It's another politely neutral smile that she pins in place as she lets the other two women continue talking without further apology from herself; since the lady holder seems so interested in what the weyrling has to say. As surprised by Tevrane's reaction as anything, Jocelyn releases a breath she might not have been aware of holding since she finished speaking; a genuine smile flashes briefly over her countenance before her expression sharpens for what follows. Briskly, she names one or two other minor holdings not far from Gelstad's, perhaps other places where weyrlings volunteered, one hand curling about her water glass afterward. "That's mostly extrapolation from little comments, " she admits of these places, "and some of them second-hand. Beyond those - " Gray eyes flick to Farideh - no help there? - back to Tevrane. "As you say, Lady Tevrane, we have the transportation. In an ideal scenario, how might we best be of help?" Tevrane is no doubt aware of Farideh's mood, but seems disinclined to pay much attention to her-- clearly, Jocelyn is a more sympathetic (more helpful?) target, at least for the moment. "Bah. Virigel? Of course he'd be one of them. Right. This is what you can do for me: get me more information. Send out damned spies if you need to; I don't much mind. I want as much information as you can get me over the winter, while they can't travel. As you say," and now, she does glance back at Farideh, even going so far as to smile, "We need each other. Recalcitrant holders do you no good, especially when you need candidates in another turn or two." The whole thing goes by without so much as a peep from Farideh, and when Tevrane finally turns to her, smile and all, to comment about candidates, there's the tiniest narrowing of her eyes. "You're right of course, Lady Tevrane. We have to think about the future. We need each other as much today as we do tomorrow. We'll aid you in whatever way we can," she avers, politely. "I'll speak to K'del about recruiting our riders in information gathering at your holds and across your coverage." Apparently content to pass the lead back off to Farideh as the holder's mood seems improved enough for resuming pleasantries, Jocelyn glances briefly back over at the other goldrider, taking another sip from her glass before folding her hands neatly atop the table space in front of her. Her expression? Polite agreement with her fellow weyrwoman, complete with a small nod in the appropriate places. Oh, excellent. A positive outcome! Tevrane is, quite plainly, pleased. "Good," she says, with a sharp nod of her own. "I'll look forward to hearing from you. Is there anything else, or shall I get back to preparations for the gather. You are invited, of course." Positive is relative only, as Farideh's smile continues to be perfunctorily polite. "That is all, Lady Tevrane. Thank you for your time, and I--" She rises from her seated position, hands still clasped together, and without looking at the other goldrider, invites: "I am afraid I have other obligations for the day, but Jocelyn has no such duties and I do not doubt, would love to attend. It was lovely seeing you again, Lady Tevrane." And with another reverential nod of her head, she moves towards the exit. High Reaches is still welcome at Nabol's Gather: That's good! Jocelyn will be the only one of its queenriders in attendance: That's - not exactly as good, judging by the awkward way the redhead clears her throat as she, taking her cue from Farideh, also gets to her feet. Still, her, "I'd be honored to attend, " is a genuine expression, as is the nod she gives to the older woman. "I enjoyed meeting you, Lady Tevrane. I'll look forward to seeing you during the festivities. Good afternoon." There's no other recourse save to follow in the other rider's wake, posture straight and stride, even. There's no further reply from Tevrane before the goldriders leave. Still, it's pretty plain that she is well satisfied indeed... regardless of the state of her holds. |
Comments
Farideh (20:03, 20 January 2016 (PST)) said...
- notsorry
Squishy (19:51, 24 January 2016 (PST)) said...
Were doomed.
Leave A Comment