Logs:Positive Relationships
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| RL Date: 29 January, 2016 |
| Who: Roszadyth, Farideh, Mirinda, Zaisavyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh comes to call on Mirinda. |
| Where: Mirinda's Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 12, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Dahlia/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Olivya/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, M'kris/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions |
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| Foreign though her presence may be -- and in the rain no less -- it is with warmth and politeness that Roszadyth lets herself known, after coming out of between, to Fort's senior queen. « We have come to pay our respects, » the High Reaches' queen says, leaving it open for the other gold to say yea, nay, or otherwise. Zaisavyth is not a queen who disapproves of visitors-- visitors are merely her due, really, and surely a positive thing. « We are glad to host you, High Reaches, » is the queen's decision, thoughts rich with a dark, fiery ocean, somewhat muted as a result of all that real-world rain. « To us? To our clutch? » Don't tell Taeliyth that she's claimed that, too; in this queen's mind, a clutch belongs to the Weyr, and the Weyr? Well, that's hers. Not being spurned by the other queen, and receiving what she might estimate as a warm welcome, Roszadyth's pleasure comes through in her words; more radiant than ever. « We have come to see you and yours, and we greatly anticipate seeing your clutch as well, » she avows, deferring to the other queen's logic and possessiveness of her junior's clutch. Well and so-- Roszadyth is pleased, and so too is Zaisavyth, for all that her Weyr is not seen to its best advantage in this present weather. « As it should be, » she tells the younger queen, with a ripple of fiery wave. « We shall receive you in our weyr. Will you require directions? An escort? » Remaining sunny and yet demure, Roszadyth declines the invitation of an escort in polite tones, « You are too kind. » She lands on the shared ledge nearby Vhaeryth, and following a brief interlude between the weyrleader and her lifemate, alerts the other queen: « She comes. » It doesn't take long to walk from the ledge to the Weyrwoman's weyr, with N'rov as escort, but he doesn't come for the whole journey; that's for Farideh to weather alone. "Weyrwoman Mirinda," comes with a genuine smile, "I am very, very glad to meet you. I apologize that it's taken this long, but-- things as they are." Farideh's gaze centers on the other woman, her perusal light and curious, her smile never faltering. Zaisavyth's warning (and oh, those eyes do study Farideh as she passes) ensures that Mirinda is in a state of readiness upon Farideh's arrival, rising from her seat near the hearth with one hand resting upon the table, upon which has been laid all the accoutrements for tea. "Weyrwoman Farideh," she says in return, her smile politely gracious but too cautious to be more than that. "Do come in and make yourself at home. I'm glad to host you; I do apologise for the weather. I trust N'rov made you feel welcome." "Oh, of course." Farideh moves further into the weyr, angling her steps for the table where their tea service sits. "I've known N'rov for longer than this. When we met, he'd convinced me he was some type of sea man, can you believe that?" She laughs lightly at the memory, and stops nearby the table. "It is better than snow I suppose-- I always think that I will get over the cold, but it always surprises me when the snow first falls in winter, or sometimes, autumn." After, she pauses, before: "I hope I didn't interrupt anything." Mirinda's laugh is genuine, if quiet. "I can believe it," she admits, gesturing towards the nicely padded seats about the table, though she herself seems inclined to wait until her guest has seated herself before following suit. "He is... he can be full of stories. A good man. Fort's lucky to have him. But no-- to answer your question, you haven't interrupted anything. I'm not sure I'll get used to cold rain, let alone snow. Except that we do what we must, don't we? Will you take tea?" Old habits are hard to shake, and Farideh holds out as long as she can before she realizes the other woman is waiting for her to sit first. When she does, she is quick to divest herself of her rain-dappled jacket and fold it over the arm of the chair. "I have heard that Fort is as lucky to have you as they are him," she says, studying the other woman with a smile. "Yes, we do what we must, but I don't think I can ever enjoy it. And oh-- yes, I would love tea. Thank you." Plainly, Mirinda is relieved when Farideh does finally sit, though she's too polite to make comment before then. "If you've heard that," she says, modestly, as she reaches for the teapot to pour out two servings into fine, delicately painted bone china cups, "Then I am pleased. It can be a difficult mantle to take on at the best times, as I'm sure you know from experience." Her appended, "How is everything going at High Reaches?" doesn't seem to be anything more than genuine interest-- and not nosy probing-- though it can be difficult to tell. "I do believe that's all I've heard, which is a great compliment. I rather thought Fort's weyrfolk were in love with their long time weyrwoman and would mourn her longer." Farideh's mouth sets into a thoughtful line, her eyes fixated on the pour of tea from the pot into the respective cups. "I can't imagine how you must have felt to find yourself moving from Monaco to Fort so suddenly," is her response, fingers lacing. "High Reaches is doing well. Irianke was kind enough to have all her affairs in order before she left, and there is K'del, of course," of course. Mirinda focuses her intention more intently upon the pouring of tea than perhaps it warrants, the fine cup eventually handed across to the other goldrider as she gestures towards the cream and sugar on offer. Her own she drinks plain-- or rather, in the short term, nurses plain, clearly warming her hands with the cup's radiated heat. "It's not a change most of us would ever anticipate," she allows, of her move. "Nor desire, I expect. It's a difficult way to win allegiance. Still." Dark eyes lift to focus upon Farideh. "I'm glad you're managing. And that you've visited. I enjoyed the company of your soon-to-be junior, only a few sevens ago." Farideh receives the cup of tea with a grateful smile and a murmured thank you, before she too is warming her chilled hands against its curved sides; she will eventually put sugar in hers, enough to make it particularly sweet. "There are those who are ambitious and want the position," she replies, "but fortunately, that type of motivation passed me by." It's only a little dry. "Jocelyn?" she asks, lifting her head from her cup. "I wasn't aware that she had made it by for a visit, but I suppose I can only be pleased that you enjoyed the visit and not the opposite," is her answer, with the hint of a smile about her lips. "The ambitious ones-- well, no. I shouldn't say that they're the ones you should be afraid of; we do need people who want the job. But at the same time, it does feel like there's something to be said for doing a job because it is your duty, and not for personal gratification." Mirinda's logic may not be wholly sound, but she seems comfortable with that comment nonetheless. "Do you not expect people to enjoy Jocelyn's visits? It was... for me, it was cathartic. There has been such complicated history between the Weyr of my birth and High Reaches. My family and High Reaches." "Personal gratification-- is that quite the same as wanting to be the top?" is the young goldrider's question, face contemplative. It's something that she does not linger on overmuch, her expression relaxing as she takes a dainty sip of tea. "I want nothing more than for everyone to enjoy visits with all of High Reaches' riders, especially its weyrleaders, even ones still in training. Jocelyn has a way of saying things sometimes though that can-- rub people the wrong way. I'm happy to find out that it was--" She pauses, lips parted, and then presses on, "Cathartic, for you." On the Monacoans' family, well. There's a neutral smile and a polite nod. "Perhaps," Mirinda muses, "Not just personal gratification." But she's happy enough to move on from that, and from the frankly fraught topic of the past, and her family's role within it. Instead, she takes a dainty sip of her own tea and then says, "In any case, it can only be a positive thing to have a capable-seeming junior-- I imagine this period would be more difficult for you, without the extra pair of hands, as little as any of us generally need more than two queens." Tea is the savior of the day, it would seem. Plenty of hidden smiles and unsaid words behind the rims of those prettily painted cups. "It is undeniably useful," Farideh says, donning another one of those polite smiles. "How is your junior doing? I would congratulate her on the good clutching, but I'm afraid we can't stay too long. You'll pass along my felicitations, I hope?" Polite smiles-- and more of them, still, though Mirinda seems somewhat wistful, as though she'd like this conversation to have taken a different turn, perhaps towards something more genuine. "She's doing well," she says, firmly. "And I will, of course. First clutches can be-- well, they're an interesting experience, but hard, or so I found it. Most things get easier with time and it has been a difficult turn, in the end, for Dahlia. For a lot of us." "I found my first to be tedious, and dubtless will find any future ones. Roszadyth is not fussy and she's not-- angry, like some queens can get, but she can get uncharacteristically needy and-- it's just a lot of sitting and waiting and staring and--" Farideh's laugh is genuine, this time. "It has," is soberer, as her tea cup is sat upon her knee, with one hand on the handle to keep it from falling. "How are-- your Holds faring in light of-- everything?" It's a delicate situation, delicate question to ask, even. "It's awful," is blunt and honest, and nonetheless comes with a wry smile. "It was terrible the first time, for me, because Zaisavyth clutched a queen, and we knew it. Terrible this most recent time because... well, she's senior, over Taeliyth, and wants everyone to know it. I'm so glad she's not a frequent riser." Mirinda sets down her cup upon the surface of the table, frowning lightly as she makes her (honest, if not blunt) answer: "Complicatedly. Several short tithes, short by a lot in some cases. Bargaining. It's a strange thing, to have a complete set of brand new Holders... though I acknowledge they would all be new to me, regardless. I expect it may take turns before they're back on their feet." "How very fortunate for you," Farideh replies, and means it. "I do hope that Roszadyth, too, is not a frequent riser. It took forever to get back out and about, and she doesn't-- well, she doesn't want to go flying around places without me and I always feel the same, with her." Clutching, eggs, blah; who needs them. Back to seriousness, she gives Mirinda a sympathetic look, bordering on empathetic but not quite. "At least they are not so old and set in their ways, or jaded towards your leadership. Our own predicament can't be claimed to be perfect by any measure. I wonder how we'll carry on, the farther we get into the Interval. Will we manage? Well, we must, mustn't we." Mirinda's nod acknowledges all of the things Farideh says, though she does admit, "Despite it all, I do enjoy the fact that she has children. They're our legacy-- there's something wonderful in that, even if the rest is..." Unpleasant. Terrible. Awful. The twist of her mouth in response to the rest of the other goldrider's words suggests she has some knowledge of what's been going on at High Reaches, whether or not she knows everything. "We'll have to," she agrees, forehead pinched. "Though I do have to wonder how, sometimes. We'll have had thirty-two new dragons within the space of a turn, too, and... it's easier in the south. There's more space to be self-sustaining. At least, for now, Fort's holds are not hostile." Clutchings, children, legacies-- all that gets a wrinkle of her nose and little else. "Thirty-two is quite a lot, and with a new weyrlingmaster team at that. I don't envy them, I suppose as much as they don't envy us," Farideh says, voice rife with dry amusement. She leans forward then, setting her mostly-finished tea back on the table where the service sits. "I'll keep your good fortune in my thoughts, and hopefully both of our situations will get better. I shouldn't keep you. I'm sure you have plenty to do. I am glad I finally got to meet you." "Olivya--" but Mirinda doesn't finish whatever thought she had on the state of Fort's weyrlingmaster team, or their opinions on goldriders and their burdens. Farideh is, after all, excusing herself, and the Fortian Weyrwoman is too polite not to respond to that, rising fluidly to her feet. "And I will do likewise," is quiet but genuine, with a hint of genuine warmth that backs up her: "I am also glad to have had the opportunity to meet you, Farideh. It was... a pleasure. I'd like it if relations between our two Weyrs could be positive, going forward; I hope you'll reach out, if there are things we can do to assist each other, given our shared borders." Hazel eyes lift to the other weyrwoman in question at the weyrlingmaster's name, and then her attention easily shifts to her leave taking. "It has certainly exceeded my expectations. I had met Hattie in the past. She was hard to like," Farideh notes, too truthfully, as she pushes up from her seat and gets to her feet. "I welcome the change in atmosphere. I hope we can continue to keep up a positive bond between our two areas and-- the same, if you ever have a need or a concern-- I do take our riders misbehaving badly-- please don't hesitate to reach out to us. Roszadyth likes Zaisavyth, anyway," comes wry. "Until we see each other again?" It's with a smile, and a nod, that she turns, making her way back out to the ledge. |
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