Logs:TGBB: Weyrwomen Edition
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| RL Date: 7 March, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Brieli |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The two goldriders talk about the brawl among other things. It's awkward. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hana/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Vienne/Mentions |
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| Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr Ringing the southwestern side of the hatching sands are ample tiers of carved stone benches, the lowest of which is some six feet off the ground -- just high enough to separate wayward hatchlings from unwary viewers, and vice versa. A metal railing on the outside helps prevent anyone from falling off; it also extends up the stairs that lead the way higher into the galleries. While most of the area is open seating, ropes section off some of the closer tiers when dignitaries are expected; those areas even feature cushions in the Weyr's blue and black. The higher one climbs, the more apparent the immense scale of the entire cavern becomes. The dragon-sized entrance on the ground is dwarfed by the expansive golden sands that glitter in the light. Everything on them is easily visible from the galleries, whether that's a clutch of eggs and a broody queen, or simply its emptiness and the handful of darker tunnels that lead to more private areas than the bowl. Wherever one sits or looks, however, one thing is constant: the overwhelming, suffocating heat. If anyone's taking bets on how long it takes Azaylia to appear at her queen's side, there would be quite a bit of money lost. Word of the brawl has spread far and wide throughout the Weyr along with K'del's accusations, riders and dragons reacting accordingly. Those who are fearful or who are angered seek out both queens, leaving Hraedhyth with no patience to have anyone in the galleries at this time. It's even longer before Azaylia finally appears, concerned eyes turned onto the sands where her gold is nudging her eggs this way and that. Cover. Uncover. It's with a mother's touch that she does this, gentle, though distracted by the rest of the Weyr. Azaylia stays up in the galleries rather than interrupt the warrior queen, leaning against the nearest rail, arms lightly crossed atop it. Iesaryth had no patience for any presence save Hraedyth's on the sands from the beginning of the altercation; once it's quelled by fire and water, rhythm of drums and tides both, the other queen settles to merely watch hers. There's only really room for one of them to move about, and the tawny warrior seems better off for her meditative nudging, as much as she is for observing. Though her presence is borne in the galleries as well, Brieli's step is light, her hands clasped at her back as she comes up the steps and into the heat. She'd rather not disturb either of the queens, nor Azaylia just yet - though eventually she does have to start making her way down to the railing, tall and quiet. Sooner rather than later, Azaylia's slumping forward with legs stretched out behind her, cheek propped up by a hand. Half lidded eyes follows Hraedhyth's progress, the gold not aiming to disturb too much sand, using stocky neck to reach her brood. It's when she's tasting the air above one that Brieli arrives, earning the queen's vicious focus for half a second. Recognition has her turning back to the eggs, back to being bothered, just not by the Acting Weyrwoman. Azaylia keeps to herself, and it's not until the other goldrider approaches that she quietly asks, "How bad was it?" Quiet, resigned tone has enough of a lilt to be a question. The goldrider knows the more martially-vigilant of the pair of queens to pause long enough to allow Hraedhyth's visual recognition, even though Iesaryth has likely warned her; it's best for the warrior to feel all is safe - if not undisturbed - especially now. And apparently, bad enough that Brieli, when she comes alongside Azaylia, doesn't prove to have her hands held behind her back, but she's holding something instead: there's a small thermos for the other weyrwoman, along with a little bag of cookies. "Hot chocolate from the Snowasis," she notes. So maybe a little nip in there, not that she might not need one. She leans on the railing, not so much watching the sands as just - looking off into the distance. "It was ugly. Quick." To the thermos and cookies, Azaylia looks on with only polite interest, as if unaware that either are for her. When she does realize, "Thank you." Brieli's hands are freed, "I just finished having tea with Issedi." It explains much. Like what kept her from Hraedhyth during, and why she's distractedly tucking the goodies into the crook of her arm. "Other than Arekoth and Cadejoth, it doesn't seem like any dragons are out for blood." Simply said, slow and thoughtful, "But," She still has to ask, "Any serious injuries?" There might be beasts who might not be so quick to project their fretting. Under her breath, Brieli curses. Perhaps she'd forgotten their esteemed guests, for a moment or two. "Not at all. I hope... all of that didn't bother her." Though out of everything that could, a brawl in the living cavern seems low on a Holder's list of concerns. "I'm glad you were with her. And no... only those two. No serious injuries, as far as I could tell, though I think Vienne might have hurt her ankle, somehow. We can have a full report by the end of the day." She shifts to lean back on the railing now, glancing to Azaylia, fine brows brought together slowly. "Are you all right? I heard... what K'del said. That you found something. I... I'm sorry." Soft swearing has Azaylia's brow pinching, looking over at the other woman with faint concern that isn't free of something wary. She figures it out at Brieli's next question, expression smoothing, "Oh. No. She probably had no idea what was happening. We were in my weyr when it happened." And from the sound of it, if Lady Issedi hears about the brawl (as she undoubtedly will) it isn't from this goldrider. "Vienne?" Only vaguely familiar with the bluerider, and she still can't imagine her in a brawl. Brown eyes that have wandered back towards both golds give a blink, and another, before she's tilting her head at Brieli. "Sorry?" Not unreceptive, just confused. "I only found the necklace. It's them I feel bad for." Do bronze and brownrider really need to be named? The other goldrider isn't surprised to see something wary there in her counterpart's expression, but Brieli is almost relieved herself, but; "If she weren't at tea with you, though, who knows. I'm glad you've been able to spend time with her. I think she... I wonder how many women her age she has to spend time with." It's a digression though, more to the point, "It's good for her to have friends here as well." As for the bluerider, "I think she was trying to get H'kon out... too many people, it just sort of... happened." There's a wrinkle of her nose, then she pauses. Gently, "Well. It must not have been the easiest conversation, Azaylia. It's a lot for them, yes - but it's not easy to bring that sort of news either." "There's Hana." Sweet as the lady-in-waiting may be, she might not be terribly close to Issedi. It's just a thought, one Azaylia lets slip away as she listens to the Weyrwoman explain how Vienne got involved. A flicker of something pensive, until, "Good thing she didn't get hurt worse." Sentiment is genuine, lips thinning in a sympathetic flinch. Looking towards the younger woman, her hand creeps towards the crook of her arm, blindly feeling for the thermos. Silence is steady, more so while she takess a sip to test, generous swallow soon following at the drinkable temperature. After, "I'm fine." Is easier than, "Is there anything you need me to do? I wasn't there." So she can't write anything about the ordeal. "It doesn't seem a very friendly thing, being a lady-in-waiting. And I can't imagine what either of them think of all the... fighting." Brieli seems torn, unsure whether to complain, or be grateful if it wasn't worse than it actually was. Her thumb ghosts to her mouth for a moment, and she chews on the nail there meditatively, able to stop, put it away when Azaylia actually takes a drink from the thermos. Hands shoved in jacket pockets, "It is a good thing." A pause. Awkwardly, "She mentioned that, even if someone wants you to stay away from them for awhile, there's usually something of a time limit on that. I also read somewhere when you have a problem with someone you like, you get them a present. So." It's sort of a joke. But there's cake and thermos and cookies, and her expression, which knows none of that makes any of it better. With a shake of her head, "You do what you're doing. But if there's anything you need or want to do..." A pause. "Like the hatching feast. I'm sure you've ideas. I just want people to enjoy it." Hands look to close the thermos, ceasing in their attempts so Azaylia can take in another, fortefying mouthful. "Issedi will probably say, when she hears about it. She likes to talk." Information is offered freely, careful expression shifting with a fond, faint curl to her lips. It doesn't last, lips evening out into polite lines, even as brows shift inwards for a subtle pinch. The hot chocolate doesn't stand a chance, tipped down her throat far too evenly for one to call it chugging, but... she ends up blinking in effort as the heat accumulates into something somewhat uncomfortable. Afterwards, "You're talking about me." Still careful and self concious enough to sort-of ask. Business is an easier topic, has been for a while now, "I don't have anything special in mind for the feast. I'll help with the arrangements." As is her duty. Slipping a hand into her jacket - where her flask is - Brieli looks up to the ledges above, the skies, then thinks better of it for the moment. With a glance to Azaylia, that faint, fond expression, "Let's not let that get around, if we can. I'm sure some people would like her to talk about all sorts of things." Shifting back into her lean, not drinking, not chewing on her ragged thumbnail, the goldrider is a little ill at ease, despite the fact that her offering has been accepted. Drained. After a blink, "Yes." Silent for a moment, dark gaze uncertain, "I didn't want to make things worse." As for the feast, a shrug. It really doesn't matter that much to the younger woman unless it matters to Azaylia. There's a nod of understanding, and Azaylia doesn't seem too concerned about certain Holders spreading gossip. The empty thermos is closed with a wrench at the end to ensure it's sealed, lips rolling against each other, pressing tight for a moment. It passes, "Okay." She accepts Brieli's words with another soft nod. Arms slowly cross to rest on the rail once more, looking out to Hraedhyth who isn't still, but has finished tending to her eggs. Muscles twitch at random beneath tawny hide, head lifted to keep watch, possibly still distracted by an errant draconic inquiry. Brieli seemed more concerned with what people might try to wrest from certain Holders, were they to hear of her penchant for chat, but it's difficult to clarify afterward. She watches Azaylia - the soft nod, the slow movements - for a long moment, dark gaze level and even. She doesn't need to look to see what the warrior queen is doing; Iesaryth is still, by contrast, but watching. The goldrider considers her words for a long moment before, "It'll blow over. Unfortunate timing." The anniversary of that death, soon followed by the one taken in retaliation. There's a slow sigh before, with difficulty, lowly, "I'm sorry I hurt you, Azaylia." And because two apologies might be the limit for any of her conversations, she pushes off the railing to start away. Azaylia glances towards the Weyrwoman, offering her attention when being spoken to. "Let's hope." Not that she sounds it herself, looking almost as distracted as Hraedhyth when she mulls over the possibilities. The apology catches her off guard, eyes flicking to find Brieli's dark gaze only to see the other goldrider beginning to leave. Arms visibly twitch, nearest to the retreating women nearly unsheathed before the limbs squeeze tight once again. "I'm sorry too." Nothing careful or schooled this time, apology both genuine and yet... unapologetic in itself. Resolved. She pauses, she half-turns. "I'll let you know if anyone's hurt at dinner, so you don't worry. Or you can visit." There's the faintest smile there before Brieli's climbing the steps again, calling behind her, "Thank you for your help. Both of you." And she's back out into the sleet and snow, hopefully not stepping in vomit along the way, thx. Azaylia is there to catch the look back, watching with an open stare that reveals so much as to be little. Certainly curious. Perhaps unnerved. "You're welcome." Is perfectly polite, perhaps painfully so. Once there's some distance, she takes in a deep breath, letting it out as she drops down onto a bench. It takes a shake to remind her that the thermos is empty, legs found if only so she can leave in search of something stronger. |
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