Logs:Right and Wrong Decisions
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| RL Date: 9 November, 2015 |
| Who: Dahlia, K'del |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Dee comes to visit K'del at High Reaches. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 3, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Aughan/Mentions, C'lar/Mentions, Cirse/Mentions, E'dre/Mentions, Elise/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Iska/Mentions, Jenilynn/Mentions, Kyouri/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions, X'vin/Mentions |
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| The nice thing about dragons is that they make it easy to extend invitations; Cadejoth's was a casual one, suggesting that perhaps, one day, Taeliyth and her rider might like to come visit-- that High Reaches is always open to them. It's taken some time for that to actually turn into anything, but today, this afternoon, K'del has cleared his schedule and found a private-but-not-too-private table in the Snowasis at which to entertain his guest. He's not been here for long, given the still-full state of his beer, and though he keeps half an eye out on the entrance from the bowl, he's largely lost in thought. It's obvious from the way Dee's hazel eyes are so big as she blushingly enters Snowasis that this is her first trip to the bar, to High Reaches at all, even. There's a shyness with the way that she moves through the afternoon patrons, the color in her cheek darkening when some moves aside from her in deference to the knot on her well worn, clearly hand-me-down riding leathers. She has a smile that blooms from uncertainty to an awkward pleasure at greeting the Weyrleader with a wave that's altogether too eager to be a proper and stately greeting between two leaders of any sort. "Hi," is equally informal a greeting as she arrives at the end of his table. "Nice place you have here," carries her good humor but also her genuine compliment. "Dee," greets K'del, rising from his seat in order to acknowledge the Fortian goldrider. "Or should it be Dahlia, now? Let me call the server, get you something to drink." That she's not being traditionally formal doesn't seem to bother him, at least not in this context: his smile is cheerfully warm, and so are his words. Dahlia's easy shrug out of the slightly too large jacket covers any awkwardness. "Well, Dee if we're friends, Dahlia if we're talking business, or I guess just Dahlia if that's too complicated." It's not that she thinks it's too complicated for him, just that identity is complicated and she seems, from the slight duck of her head as she moves to sit across from him, to still be getting comfortable with her own. "It's Dahlia at home now, mostly. For most people." She seems lighter, without the jacket and its reminder pinned to the shoulder, her sweater too baggy to do anything for her form, but of a blue color that compliments her eyes. "Thank you," for the server, who will get her drink order quickly when she comes. "How are things?" she asks of the bronzerider on the heels of the server's departure. K'del hesitates a moment and then seems to decide: "Dee. Since today is not formal in any way." Both hands wrap around his beer, though rather than drawing it towards his mouth for a sip, he studies the woman opposite him. "Things are... good. Solid. I've my daughter visiting, which is nice, though she misses her mom. How... are things for you? And Fort? Hear there's been some illness down at Boll." His words are-- mostly-- light, but there's something in his expression that suggests he's probing, too. Dahlia's expression is sympathetic for K'del's daughter, a sympathy that might have found voice were it not for Boll. The teen's expression grows immediately grim. She meets his gaze for some moments, nodding her head slowly. "Lady Jenilynn has preemptively quarantined the ill to the infirmary there. I'm given to understand the body was burned at sea." She takes a slow breath. "Hopefully the autopsy has taught the healers something. Those that haven't taken ill." She looks down to the table, shaking her head. "You could've asked me about that after I had my drink," is quietly chiding, trying to lighten the mood, but the effort is flimsy. K'del makes a face, apologetic, but it's clear that he's interested in hearing these details from the horse's mouth (as it were); sorry-not-sorry. "I'll do better next time," he promises, if distractedly. "Let's hope it stays contained, then. I'm sure the healers know what they're doing, and Jenilynn has made the right decision." His nod is, if not authoritative, certainly firm. Dahlia's glance up is too serious still to inspire much optimism. Still, she agrees, "Let's hope. I've seen what a little sickness in plants can do to a crop." She looks away, toward the bar, where is that drink? It'll surely come sometime. "It's-- probably nothing. A bad flu." She tries to sound resolute. "Someone told me that sometimes those come with the change of seasons." It'd be nice to believe that someone, whoever it was. From all the distance of High Reaches, it's probably easier for K'del to be calm about this; for him to be less concerned. Dahlia's reaction, however, has sobered him further, and his nod, this time, is very slow and very careful. "Let's hope," he agrees. "For everyone's sakes. Aside from that... how is everything, Dee? Since you graduated." Dahlia lets her eyes wander a moment before she speaks into the silence that settles. It's not that she's telling deep, dark secrets, it's just that there are things one says to a friend and things one says in front of strangers. Finding no one obviously trying to overhear them, she lets her arms fold on the table and her shoulders rise and fall in a little shrug. "Difficult," she tells him honestly. "More than I imagined, and now I have so much more I can imagine. Imagine if this sickness weren't just a flu, if the Weyr needed to give aide, and if Taeliyth were to rise before that would happen. I'm not even sure that Hattie would know what to do-- would anyone? Even the healers? If it were something serious?" She reaches a hand to scrub across her face. "I'm eighteen. Eighteen, and they're expecting me to somehow be ready for all that responsibility. Even with help-- the enormity of it-- I don't know how you did it," she tells him candidly. "I'm not sure I can." There's no surprise in K'del's expression; he acknowledges it, instead, with a low, careful nod, and a look that contains nothing more than absolute and genuine empathy. "I'm sorry," is very, very quiet. "It sucks. Wish I... had some kind of help to offer. Wish Lilah..." He could wish a lot of things, and he stops himself, leaning backwards against the booth wall behind him to exhale, heavily. "It will get easier, but I know that's no comfort, now. Can tell you that no one feels ready for it, but... that doesn't help either, does it? Is there anything I can do?" "Me too," answer the trail of Lilah, quietly. Dee lingers on it only a moment, shaking her head. "Not all the wishing in the world can solve the problems it has. Or I have, for that matter." She manages a wry smile for K'del. "You're doing it. Listening, without judgment. I don't feel like I can go to Hattie and tell her I don't feel ready because she's done her duty for so long and doesn't want to anymore, E'dre thinks. I know--" She starts and then swallows as the server arrives. She takes the drink and flashes a grateful smile to the woman, waiting for her to walk away before she says quietly, "I know there are other options, but I think if I can't do it, for Fort, for Taeliyth, that Fort won't want an option other than Hattie. Unless it would be for Elise or Ali but they've Southern to manage and Aedrielth only just rose not long ago, and-- I mean, who else? Are there others of the Fortian line that might-- do it? If I can't?" Her voice has grown smaller and smaller because... isn't this sort of treason? Dee does look awfully guilty for thinking it this far through. By the look on K'del's face, he'd prefer there were something more concrete he could do, but there's not, and even he knows that. He's silent, as Dee speaks; silent and reflective and thoughtful and sad, though obviously for the situation and not Dahlia herself. "I doubt Cirse would come back," he says, finally, making a face. "And I'm not sure if there is anyone else. Hattie... whether she wants the job or not, she'll help as much as she can. Can't imagine anything less, regardless of anything." Dahlia listens, but also drinks. Her free hand rises to rub across her face again, then tuck a dark lock behind her ear. "Then it'll have to be me. That's what I figured, but I needed to ask. I know Hattie will help. I know her experience will be invaluable to me, but I'm--" She sighs, "I'm terrified. Taeliyth wants to be sure of us, for me, but even she can't be sure. She's-- shells, she's only a turn old." And a little more, but not much. "What if I hurt things with my inexperience, K'del? What if I make all the wrong decisions and let everyone down?" K'del hesitates. Finally, "Guess I made a lot of bad decisions when I was first Weyrleader." As much as he hates to admit it. "Let Tiriana execute criminals-- that one gave me nightmares. Made deals that didn't work out; made us look bad. Mistakes happen. Hattie makes mistakes, and don't you forget that. The point is... you learn through those mistakes, at least if you're smart about them." Dahlia's eyes only get bigger as K'del talks. Executing criminals, Hattie making mistakes. She drinks again, but manages not to make it absurdly deep. "So when I make a mistake, you'll give me a drink, listen to me whine for a little bit and then tell me to put on my big girl pants and deal with the fall out?" She infers the treatment she might get from the bronzerider with raised brows. K'del pauses only for a beat or so. "Yes," he says, then. "And you'll hate it, and I'll feel bad because shells knows I like to dwell on past mistakes and berate myself over them, but... then you get back up and try again. And you convince other people that you don't care what they think about you, and that you are doing the absolute best you can. Which is true. The latter part, anyway. You'll end up making decisions that other people hate, and sometimes that won't even mean it was the wrong decision. It sucks." It's his turn to drink. Dahlia's exhale is heavy. "Sounds like you have experience," the tone is gently teasing though the words acknowledge the truth of what he says. "Any particular not wrong decisions that are keeping you up lately? Or is this just the wisdom of experience speaking." She glances down, "It can't be the drink yet, unless you started well ahead of me..." Her eyes turn to K'del, questioning, but not seriously. "Promise this is my first," says K'del, with a wry smile that falls short of being an actual grin. "Mostly it's just... speaking from experience. I mean... shells, I don't know. There was a situation with Lord Crom not that long ago, and..." But he breaks off. Perhaps there are things best not commented on in detail. "With luck, if you do end up as senior, you'll have an experienced Weyrleader who can help, too. That's important." Dee's interest in whatever transpired with Lord Crom is polite. She's clearly not pumping K'del for information. She just nods, letting him break off and not tell as he seems inclined to do. With luck, her weyrleader will be someone who will be able to teach her when to press for more. "That would be nice. It's hard to know what would make for a good weyrleader, even, with so little basis for comparison. I've promised to try to warn N'rov so he can be out of the Weyr," this is given quietly, "because he doesn't want it, and I don't want him to get stuck, sinceshe likes Vhaeryth." K'del manages, though it's difficult, not to make a face at mention of N'rov; Dee should be proud of him! Instead, he gives a little nod. "It's... a difficult one. Impressing bronze doesn't mean you're necessarily going to be a good leader, and doesn't mean you're... well. Even being a wingleader isn't the same. It's difficult to train and prepare for it. But there's bound to be a number of well-qualified bronzeriders at Fort; I'm sure it'll be fine. With luck, Taeliyth will take her time with the whole rising thing, too." Dee might be proud of him, if she had any idea. As is, she has an oblivious, small smile on her lips. "Yes... that... would be nice. Given the track record of her dam and granddam, however," the young goldrider lifts her glass, "I'm not terribly optimistic." She looks to K'del, almost apologetic, "I'm honestly not sure there's anyone in Fort who's got the experience to balance out my inexperience. The ideal would be an ex-weyrleader who was good at what he did when he did it. I can't imagine being ok with N'muir because of Hattie and it all just being so awkward. "You might think on weyrleaders you've worked with in the past who aren't weyrleaders anymore and pass me some names to me, bronzeriders I might introduce myself to." She doesn't even sound awkward about asking this much. K'del opens his mouth to reply, and then pauses, making a face. "I'll give it some thought," he promises. "Not sure how many possibilities there are-- but even wingleaders who've had some exposure to area politics could work. People with long-term experience and..." He stops, pressing his lips together carefully. "Maybe it's just that you need someone confident. Someone who believes he can do it, whether or not he's done it before." "I can think of someone who fits that description," Dee answers slowly, but she doesn't look entirely pleased about it. "Have you ever noticed that some people who are very good at politics often stop seeming like real people? I'm not sure I could trust him, and if I can't, I can't imagine other people should either." "That," allows K'del, after a moment's pause. "Is an interesting point. It's... hm. After a while, people start looking fake; like everything is politics and nothing is real. It's finding the balance that's important: confident enough to fake it until they make it, but not so confident that they..." That they end up like that. He exhales again, turning his mostly-empty glass upon the table. "The truth is, though, it's not even as if you can control who catches Taeliyth. Even if you found someone you thought would work well." Because that's comforting. "I know," Dee sighs softly. "Even in the beginning when the bronzeriders would come around thinking they could just put their name in the hat, so to speak, Taeliyth was amused but never gave me any illusions that my wants would have anything to do with her decision in the moment." She takes a drink and then mutters, "Dragons." K'del's lips press together again. "And even that relies on whether she ends up having a say in it; Iovniath certainly didn't, the first time Cadejoth caught her. Flights are... things happen that you may not have expected. Look at Monaco: I'm sure no one anticipated the one non-Monacoan bronze there to catch Torith. Ultimately... everyone just has to do the best they can. That's all anyone can ask." Suddenly, Dee is laughing. Laughing, and then trying to smother her laughter under her hands, tearing up and then waving her hands in the air as though air fanned toward her might help her gain control of herself again. Between the laughter she manages, "Sorry," and "Taeliyth," who must have said something very funny indeed in response to K'del's words. K'del peers at the goldrider, but then he's grinning. Maybe he doesn't know what Taeliyth has been saying, but at least Dee is smiling! Instead, he picks up his drink, taking another long sip. And, "Don't be sorry. Good to see you smiling. Is she enjoying her visit to High Reaches?" Dahlia helps herself to more of her drink, this helping to settle her mirth further before answering lightly, "Well, she's predisposed to like Fort best, perhaps even in her very bones, but she likes the spires and thinks there's a lot of good places to watch what happens. She finds your weyrlings peculiar. Miniature dragons. Maybe after she's clutched some of her own she'll grasp that idea better." Still, Dee is smiling and brightly. "My belated congratulations on Cadejoth's latest," and probably condolences too, only they just started smiling again, so she sticks with that. "I wanted to come for the hatchings, only-- I'm never sure if it's alright to visit places, even for festive occasions." "You should have come," says K'del, firmly. "I was there for your hatching, if you remember?" But he's pleased by the congratulations, and by the rest, and adds: "Anyway, she should like Fort best. Cadejoth certainly likes High Reaches best. His clutch have just started catching their own meals, and I admit, we've gone to watch more than once; it's fun. When we've the time, anyway." "Only barely, but yes," Dee says of remembering, "It was all pretty overwhelming. I'll come to the next one. In-- well, a couple turns I guess." That makes her laugh for some reason too, perhaps just because she's already now in a better mood. "Is the feeding dragons one of the top sights to see in High Reaches or are there other places I should see before I go? I knew a crafter once who said your craft complex was something impressive." Probably more so in turns past, when it still had that 'new craft complex' smell. K'del's nod acknowledges that first remark: if course it was overwhelming. Of the rest, he can only grin. "Probably that one is arguable. The craft complex is interesting, definitely, though we've nothing farmcraft-y in there, I'm afraid. The view from up the bowl is spectacular-- the spindles and all. Guess I'm biased; I like all of my Weyr. Do you want a tour? I can spare a little longer." "As long as you're sure I wouldn't be keeping you from something important," Dee returns with a big smile. "Maybe your daughter would like to join us? How old is she?" K'del, pleased. He finishes the last of his drink, promising, "I've the time. Iska's six. Coming here to stay with me was her turnday present-- she wanted time with just me, not that it's ever that simple. Come on, we can go pick her up and then I'll show you around. She'll love it." Fun times for all! |
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