Logs:Your Responsibility
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| RL Date: 26 January, 2014 |
| Who: Ali, Hattie |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The day after Isyath's flight, weyrwomen discuss some political outcomes of said flight, as well as some other home politics. |
| Where: Records Room, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 11, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: N'muir/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, E'ten/Mentions, R'oan/Mentions, E'dre/Mentions, Jenilynn/Mentions |
| By late afternoon, things have largely returned to normal for Ali- Isyath once more circles high in the skies above Fort Weyr, enjoying the afternoon thermals- the lack of her heated presence probably a relief for many. Her rider is settled in the records room, sitting at a table surrounded by hides. This isn't unusual; what /is/ is that she's sent all the records keepers away, asking them to take a break for the afternoon. It's peaceful, quiet, and there's a fresh pot of tea to hand. It's perhaps unfortunate that the lack of distraction doesn't mean the junior's actually working- she's sitting there staring into space, one finger absently marking her place against the hide. Hattie has kept a low profile since her return to the Weyr, sticking exclusively to the hatching cavern or the Weyrleaders' complex, and for once relying on the service of drudges, that she could exploit every day if she chose to. Most of the day has been spent in her weyr or in the council room, making people come to her instead of visiting them, and only as the afternoon threatens to draw to a conclusion does the door from Weyrleaders' complex to records finally open and reveal Hattie at the top of the stairs. Silence follows, and no immediate progress down the steps, but then light footsteps can be heard and the Weyrwoman finally descends the stairs. It takes a while- about until Hattie's nearing the bottom of the stairs, before Ali becomes aware of the steps, twisting her head in that direction. There's an odd kind of relief in her expression, as if maybe she thought it might be someone else (though who else it could be- other than N'muir- is well...) "Weyrwoman," she begins, as is her habit, straightening and reaching for the pot. "Will you have some tea with me?" a pause, then, "Elaruth is fine?" Not that she couldn't ask Isyath, except the junior queen's in too exuberant a mood for her to want to interrupt, it seems. At the bottom of the stairs, Hattie freezes, though given a moment to realise that Ali is quite possibly the only other person in the room, she takes a deep breath and forges a path in her direction, towards her table. There's no answer to her question supplied until she's drawn nearer and given what she can see of Ali a looking over, her focus intense, and no effort made to hide her study. Then, she answers the invitation by drawing out a chair, and the question with, "Tired," on the breath of a sigh. Barely a second's silence follows before she's asking (demanding), "You? Isyath?" The longer pause before the answer visibly increases Ali's tension, and so it's with a long exhale of breath that she finishes pouring the tea, setting the first closer to Hattie and the second near herself. "Issy's happy," she replies, readily enough, a mix of fondness and relief in her voice. The other question requires a slightly longer pause. "I- I'm not sure. K'zin is one of K'del's riders, and-" she presses her lips together, darting a sidelong glance: she's aware K'del's not Hattie's favorite subject, but she can't help it. "I miss Iska. /Physically/, I'm- fine. But-" Hattie's answer to that first issue isn't a terribly helpful one, but, given a moment to think, it might well be all she can say that doesn't stab at either of those riders. Yet. "You called an open flight," she murmurs, giving a slow and careful shrug of one shoulder in a quiet gesture of helplessness. Only then does she seem to notice the tea, calling her to backtrack to softly-spoken thanks, though she doesn't move to lift the cup just yet. "I thought your intention was to send her to her father when Isyath had clutched, not before?" She frowns at that, though it's a flash of thing, there and gone. "It- it felt like the best move, politically." Of course, now that she has to deal with the consequences, Ali's feelings on the matter may well be more practical than fanciful, judging by the twist of her lips. Reaching for her own cup, she cradles it, staring down into its depths. "It- it was. But I was so- I didn't feel it was right to have her near me, when I was proddy. And the- the flight." The very idea makes her flush. "It'll- let me get used to the idea, let me focus on Issy." Except that doesn't seem exceptionally likely. "/Politically/, I would have been happy to close all flights to 'Reachian and Telgari dragons," Hattie says flatly, though she's not particularly unkind about it, just honest. She considers the tabletop for a few, distant moments, then looks up again, even if she can't quite look Ali in the eye, her focus somewhere around one of her shoulders. "I used to send Gethin and the girls away whenever she glowed, when they were little," she admits. "I don't think anyone understood /why/. But it's your decision, and she's only a few seconds away, really." There's something of relief in Ali's expression when she hears Hattie admit to sending her children away, too. "Yes- and, it's only for a short time," she says, more in reassurance of herself than perhaps anyone else. She takes a tentative sip of her tea, then quietly, "K'zin offered to help out, when Issy clutches. I'd like that to happen." She hesitates, gaze flicking up, "I'm not sure how it will work- with Elaruth and Issy both likely to be on the sands for some part of it. But- we'll make it work." It sounds like a statement, except for the slight lilt at the end turning it into a question. "As long as his bronze doesn't upset Elaruth," Hattie states, as she finally lifts her tea to take a tentative sip. "Or Bijedth." She swallows hard, which has nothing to do with the tea, and, as she sets it down, there's a tremor in her hands that makes it clatter a little as she relinquishes it. "I don't really want anything to do with him," she confesses, trying to inject a complete lack of feeling into her tone. "I can't make any promises about how Elaruth will feel about having his bronze in close proximity. He's not part of the Weyr and she'll have babies to protect; she's easy enough to upset when there's nobody but her and Bijedth. I don't even know how she'll feel about Isyath. The ledges are one thing, but..." The tremor in the other goldrider's hand surprises her, and Ali leans forward to press her fingers against Hattie's. "Did- did something happen?" she wonders. "I know he chased Elaruth, but-?" With a slow exhale, "Maybe- maybe Isyath will be less- maybe she'll find it easier with Elaruth there." Except that's wistful rather than hopeful. "Worst case-" a hesitation, then a tentative smile, "You could send us to Boll, we can camp out on the beach- Issy will enjoy the fish. Make Lady Jenilynn's husband come and bring me fruity drinks." Except it's /Boll/ and that smile doesn't linger overly long. Hattie starts to shake her head, then changes her mind, her fingers flexing beneath Ali's, unbidden. "...It wasn't... something I'd care to repeat," she eventually admits. "The Telgari was the main culprit. I know I struck your 'Reachian," no, she's not going to name him, "and he reached for me and I was... afraid. I don't remember him actually doing anything, but I still don't-" Want much to do with him. "Did he hurt you?" she asks, with a sudden return of focus. As far as the joke goes, she tries to play along, though it's a rather poor effort. "I'd rather send you to Nerat or Southern. If she's in love with one of our bronzeriders, maybe her husband would fall for you." "He's not /mine/," Ali says, quick to declaim ownership of Isyath's mate's rider. "But he- he struck he as young. Harmless, mostly." She chews her lip, as if considering that, but Hattie's question snaps her gaze back, surprised enough to quickly blurt: "/No/! No. It was- he was fine. I think he was just- inexperienced. I mean- this is only his dragon's second time catching." Her fingers squeeze against Hattie's for a moment before she pulls back, a flicker of a smile evident. "If that'd stop him jostling people against us, /that/ wouldn't be so bad. Then again, /Southern/ wouldn't be so bad. As long as it was only temporary- I'm not a fan of the constant humidity, and I think I'd become far too fond of those fruity drinks. It'd turn your junior into a Southern lush." The very notion of that has her smiling at the absurdity of it all. "He demonstrated no regret for letting his bronze chase Elaruth, nor did he appear to make any effort to stop him. Frankly, I think he only apologised because his leadership likely made him." All said quietly, Hattie's gaze lingering on the edge of the table. "I just..." The right words escape her. "If he's here, then he's your responsibility. I'll leave him alone as long as he doesn't step out of line; I just don't want to play at being friends with him. Maybe he'll turn out to be harmless, but I don't like what I've seen of him." She reaches for her tea again, to lift the cup and take a long drink. "As long as you're okay and no-one mistreats you or Isyath, then... that's that." As much as that joke is still a /joke/, something pained crosses Hattie's expression. "I don't want to send you away," she murmurs. "He's... young." It's not an apology on his behalf, so much as an attempted explanation on Ali's part. With a slow exhale, she nods, accepting: "He'll be my responsibility. Thank you. I- really do need someone to help, with Issy. You know what she's like." The grimace suggests that the dark haired woman's not looking forward to /that/ part. "I- don't want to either," she admits. "So- we'll make it work." Somehow. "I suggest that you clear it with N'muir," is Hattie's (almost) final word on that particular issue, her tone enough to make it plain that 'suggest' means 'must'. "Technically, he wouldn't fall under our jurisdiction, but N'muir's. We can house him and deal with him so far as the Sands go, but the rest is the Weyrleader's call." Taking a deep breath, she nods in answer to her junior's declaration of what they'll do about the other, potentially more problematic, matter, and attempts to forge ahead. "If you can let me know who chased, I can get the flight records updated. If you /know/, that is." That makes Ali wince, noticeably. "We didn't- the Weyrleader and I had a bit of a fight the last time we spoke," she admits, fingers lifting from her cup and pressing together, a sign of her anxiousness. "He's so protective of Hematite to the exclusion of the rest of the Weyr, and I just wanted to-" the frustrated noise she makes fades pretty quickly, when she remembers that she's talking to N'muir's weyrmate. "I'll- talk to him," she agrees, with gaze fixed on her cup. "I- I'll try. I remember N'rov, and E'ten-" a smile, that falters as she adds, "R'oan. Others." For whatever reason(s), that news doesn't appear to strike Hattie as a surprise, especially as Ali continues with her explanation as to /why/. "I know," she says, with no sign at all of her having taken offense on his behalf. "I've run into that same problem on more than one occasion, though I wouldn't say it's to the exclusion of the rest of the Weyr. Trust me, E'dre would be minus the ability to father children by now if I had my way." The faint smile she offers up is truly half a grimace. "But I imagine he's defended us both to that extent on more than one occasion, though I'm not saying he's /right/." That last name on her fellow goldrider's list makes her take in an audible, sharp breath, but she presses her lips together and nods, acknowledging what she can with, "Okay." The mention of E'dre earns a wry sort of smile from Ali, though it doesn't linger, perhaps since she stays on the topic of the Weyrleader: "He- he wasn't happy about Dice, either," she says, slowly, as if unsure how to proceed with that, a hand reaching up to tug through her hair. And while she looks uncertain, the other goldrider's reaction makes her frown. It's clear she wants to ask, but- politeness stays her tongue, now. "At least we'll have eggs, soon. I'm hoping I can make the Southern camping trip before Issy clutches." "Probably because I haven't told him. About any of it." The /why/ being a major component. "So, chances are that he won't be best pleased with you or me by the time he finds out what's been going on." As resigned to that as Hattie seems, she must believe that it's inevitable, now. She doesn't settle after that mention of R'oan, and though there's still a good half a cup of tea there in-front of her, she can't sit still, and so rather than sit and fidget, she begins to get to her feet. "Speaking of eggs, I should go and check on Elaruth. She's a little worn out." Carefully, she tucks her chair back beneath the table. "If you could let me have a list of those names by tomorrow?" "I- I told him it's funding the Weyr. Since Boll." But not the /why/ of it, to judge by Ali's downcast, shamed expression. Even if Hattie believes it inevitable, perhaps her junior doesn't, or at least doesn't want to. Her gaze only flickers up as Hattie makes her excuses: "Of course, Weyrwoman. If you need anything-" she lets the sentence remain unfinished, the lack of qualifier pointed. "Double standards. If he can shield Hematite, I've every right to have shielded you." Even if Hattie doesn't look terribly /happy/ about it. She gives a single nod, then moves from the table, out through the Records to the door that leads to the bowl, so that she might head straight through the Sands that Elaruth has taken to sleeping on during the day. Only time will tell if that shielding will become past tense. |
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