Logs:Working Tea
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| RL Date: 26 March, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Weyrwoman Irianke and her assistant have a typical working "break". Topics range from professional to personal. |
| Where: Irianke and Niahvth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 5, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Miule/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions |
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>---< Irianke and Niahvth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr(#1207RJ) >---------------< This hollowed out bubble cavern is large. Tendrils of steam come from a corner near the lower caverns entrance to the weyr. It's situated near a separated cave that has hanging glass beads obscuring view of it, likely the bed chamber. The outermost room is decorated in bright colors and a lot of interesting pieces of art hung on the walls. A large stone table sits in the entrance from the ledge atop a yellow and teal rug. The furniture is chaise lounges on other sectional carpet pieces and a cabinet of liquor. The glassed-in bookshelf is filled with volumes and volumes of books and scrolls and locked from prying eyes. -----------------------------< Active Players >----------------------------- Irianke F 37 5'7" slender, dark curly hair, stone blue eyes 6s Lycinea F 18 5'5" slender, blonde hair, blue-green eyes 0s ----------------------------------< Exits >--------------------------------- Irianke's busy schedule has taken more leisurely notes since the clutching, the weyrwoman even making time in the middle of the day to sit and have some tea with her assistant. It's a working break however, the subject du jour being that of pregnant female riders and whether they need to be moved into lighter duties into Aurora or not before a preliminary final list is sent up to Azaylia. "What do you think about this one?" asks the goldrider, showing the very top of the healer sheet she's looking at. "First pregnancy, small build, had a terrible first trimester according to the healers. I would think she should be on reduced duties but something about her..." Lycinea continues to put her best foot forward. She's not perfect (not by a long stretch), but what she lacks in instant competence, she makes up for in drive to practice and at least improve if not perfect. The topic of this working break is not her favorite, but she's managed to set aside obvious dislike to try to deal with the task at hand. She leans a little as her hands continue to work their way lightly across the weyrwoman's shoulders in an effort to loosen any tension lingering there from all this stressful decision-making. "Has she requested lighter duty, does it say? Did she in the first trimester?" "No," Irianke responds, her shoulders rolling with Lycinea's hand movements. There's a pause as she catches her breath and relaxes. "A little lower on the right? Right by my shoulder blades. Yes..." But there's work and the goldrider sighs once after which her eyes open again. "No, she didn't. She's also ambitious and I've heard that she wants to become a wingsecond before she's 30. I'd hate to deprive her the option to continue proving herself." Lycinea's fingers shift obligingly toward the spot and work it once it's found, gentling her touch when the older woman directs her attention back to the file. "I think, then, that perhaps it ought to be made clear to her that it's an option if she should want it or if the healers advise her to, but I heard that pregnancy is different at different times for some women? So maybe she feels fine now. Maybe keeping busy in her wing is what she needs to be doing? I hear some people like to be busy," there might be a slight edge of humor in that. They don't know anyone who likes to be busy, do they? Irianke laughs, a gentle sound that's at odds with her public voice. This is her private laugh, the reserved study of emotions that are fare more intimate and shared with few though Lycinea has likely seen it more and more often as time passes by. "Did you manage to find a ride to Ista Hold yet?" The Igen woman reaches up to place a hand on one of Lya's hands, turning to look up at the teenager in the process. "Listened in? Found out anything?" About Lady Miule's weaver, presumably. "I'm going tomorrow," Lycinea answers quickly. "I've asked around the weavers here, too, and they don't seem to know anything more than the ones at the Hall." She purses her lips, disappointment briefly obvious. It's not that Lya cares about the weaver, but she does care that she's disappointing Irianke by not having discovered the weaver's identity yet. "I promise not to... get distracted this time," as she had to confess she did when she went to weaver, her cheeks reddened then as they are now. The smile on Irianke's mouth softens, warmly indulgent for the ruddening of Lya's cheeks. Her hand pats at the girl's hand again, before returning to the sheet in front of hers. "You have sound judgment. I'll speak with her tomorrow before giving the Weyrwoman our final list." That's the last one, and it gets slotted into a small, third stack of follow ups, while two other stacks indicate move and not move. "Come, come, finish your morning snack and tell me about your day yesterday." Lycinea's hands do a final brush across the weyrwoman's shoulders as though to smudge any fingerprints she might've left behind before moving around to settle back into her seat and reach for the tea and accompanying snack. "It was alright," she starts, then hesitates briefly, in the way she habitually does when she doesn't want to tell Irianke something, and as ever, does, "I heard a lot of talk about the dragons that will be sent to Igen. People are upset, mostly. Except that one candidate. The one from Igen. I guess he's excited or something." Irianke's mouth presses down, in that known way. Displeasure. "I've spoken to the Weyrleader about my concerns. People," she adds with reluctance, "Are always entitled to their opinions, but in this case, the misinformation makes me wonder if I should pull a F'rain and have the Weyrwoman, either one at this point, it doesn't matter to me, write down the conditions of my transfer here explicitly to put the rumors to rest. As far as I know," she adds reaching for a wedge of fruit that runs against her lips, "Three to four volunteers will be asked for first among the blues and greens, after which the recommendations of High Reaches leadership will fill out the remaining slots." A moment later, Irianke looks, chewing thoughtfully on her fruit. "Does the idea bother you, Lya?" Lycinea listens, in the open, thoughtful way that is reserved for (perhaps) Irianke alone. She considers while she sips her tea. "The idea doesn't bother me. I suppose the practice might, if someone I liked ended up getting sent by the Weyrleaders if there weren't enough volunteers. I probably wouldn't like being told I had to leave if I didn't want to." She chews her lower lip almost as thoughtfully as Irianke is her fruit. "I think it could've been handled better. With all the misinformation, I mean." "Aye." Irianke agrees, a stray look cast out to the exit to the Weyrleaders' ledges. "It was my faulty assumption the weyrlingmaster team was aware and understood and from there..." The goldrider's Igen accented words trail off. "Dragonmen go where they are required. It is much like crafts and even Holders. What do you think happens to the sons who do not inherit." Let alone the unmentioned, but surely more understood plight of Holder daughters. "If," the goldrider's fogged blue eyes look levelly at her assistant as she poses the question of, "You stood and Impressed a green or blue, would you consider coming with me to Igen? Theoretically." Lycinea sucks in a breath and holds it a moment. "I was sent away from Balen Hold when I was small. I didn't like that. I know that's different, but it's my only point of comparison." She's quiet a moment and then says, "I might've been sent away from here, if you hadn't come." It's an embarrassing confession and she flushes with a deep degree of humility. "I would consider coming to Igen with you, as your assistant, but I'm not sure I'm meant to partner a dragon, weyrwoman." She reaches up to tug on a loose strand of hair. "I get air-sick." Irianke's eyes narrow suddenly, thoughtful. "Air-sick? Any time you get a top a dragon? Fly? Between?" "I can make it from the ground to a person's weyr, usually, now. Now that I've had more practice at it." Lya stares at her tea. "If I haven't eaten before I go on longer trips, I can usually hold off until I'm on the ground. And sometimes it's just coughing." This is, as it happens, also embarrassing, so her coloring deepens to a nice red. What she's learned of Lycinea's personality and those too easily flushed cheeks, Irianke merely nods, rather than say what her eyes speak in their sympathy. Ista won't get canceled, to save the girl her pride, but the number of dragon riding trips does reduce to the ones that are actually important. But now, she doesn't say any of that. "I wouldn't ask you to Stand if the lifestyle seems to be one your body does not seem to want to adapt to. It was merely a thought. I hope people volunteer. It would be ideal if people volunteered." "Oh, I--" Lya starts, sitting up straighter with a sort of urgency. "I don't... mind. I mean. It's not pleasant, but I imagine the dragons who aren't lucky are unhappier than I am. I don't want to just stay here forever and never see any of the world. But I don't want to ride in caravans for days on end with a bunch of strangers either." Her brow furrows, "I'm just not sure about being a lifemate. It seems like the kind of thing that you should be sure of." It's abrupt that she asks with now raised brows, "Were you? Sure? When you Stood." "Absolutely not." Irianke's recollection ignites a low laugh. "I am sure the rider who Searched me did so cause she thought I was pretty. And all I knew was, I didn't want to leave the Weyr just yet. I'm trader born and tired of constantly moving on." The goldrider reaches for some more fruit and chews it down. "Two days later, I was sure I'd have to make my way out to my family and head back on the road with this pleasant dream of what might have been, but instead was found by Niahvth. I was less sure of anything in my life." "I don't blame the rider, if that's why." Lycinea says this offhandedly, focusing more on the rest of what Irianke says. "But you never regretted your decision? Even though you weren't sure? If it had been a different dragon that found you, do you think you might've?" "No. There are no regrets." Irianke says, no, states. "Never any regrets. You just... I don't like waxing poetical about how Impression is or feels, but one you're bonded to your dragon, you are filled in a way you didn't realize you had been empty. Home is where your dragon is. For me, my home is High Reaches now. It's difficult to explain without sounding touched in the head honestly." What Irianke says makes Lycinea catch her breath. Perhaps it's never been explained to her that way, or maybe just never personally for all that she's grown up in the Weyr. "Maybe..." She starts, "Maybe I could come to Igen later and Stand for one of Niahvth's other clutches, later. Maybe." Maybe she's just trying to please Irianke, but more likely, she means it. She's not ready yet, but maybe one day? "Maybe. You would be always welcome where Niahvth is." For that's where Irianke is. "Could you take this stack of paperwork to the Headwoman before lunch? I'm also expecting a package to be delivered here from the vintners. Two crates. I'd appreciate it if you could have someone deliver one of them to the weyrlingmasters' offices and the other to my Weyr." There's a small, genuine smile from Lycinea for the first. Then it's back to business as she sets aside her tea cup on the tray that she will come back for when Irianke's quite finished with it. "Of course, ma'am." She scoops up the stack, "I'll make the arrangements," she assures. Then there's a brief pause in her step toward the door, in which she turns back. "I'm friends with assistant weyrlingmaster Telavi," it's a blurted volunteer of information. "She's the first one to teach me how to braid," which isn't especially relevant, but she adds, "If it might help anything." Surely Irianke will let her know what she might do. "It might." Irianke considers this information for a half-breath. But gives no further instruction in regards to Telavi, other than, "I hope your position with me does not bring discomfort to your friendship." "I'm sure it will be fine." Lycinea says hurriedly, in a way that is definitely not saying something, but she's gone before she can be pressed for any answers about that. |
Comments
Edyis (14:42, 27 March 2015 (EDT)) said...
Aww this was cute.
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