Difference between revisions of "Logs:A Request"

Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr

Made private by a thick, insulated door that blocks out most of the noise from the barracks beyond, the Weyrlingmaster's Office is a comfortable, quiet alcove. Instead of an imposing desk, much of the room is taken up by a large round table, with five chairs spaced around its edges. Beneath it is a square rug pieced together with twisted rags that stretches from wall to wall, just leaving room for the long bookshelves and filing cabinets. On the back wall, a tapestry of the Weyr's badge is hung, providing both insulation and decoration.

In one corner sits a small green plant, growing strong despite the lack of sunlight in this windowless room. Beside it rests a tea cart, prepped and ready.

An apologetic tendril of warm, smoky purple extends beyond a pastel rainbow background to gently nudge into Isath's thoughts, sorry for intruding but softly requesting the presence of hers. No words accompany the thought, but there is an image of her Heart, standing before the door to the Weyrlingmaster's Office. A final, gentle puff of pink and a fluttering heartbeat acts as a 'please', and then Cailluneth withdraws. (To Isath from Cailluneth)

Withdrawn mentally she may be, but Cailluneth waits just beyond the training cavern while her N'ky hovers in front of the office door, alternating between thrusting his hands into his pockets, and wringing at the fabric of his tunic, between standing up straight and leaning against the wall. The apology in his dragon's tone was for the hour: dinner time for many, including, most likely, most of the weyrlings. Scheduled lessons, lectures and drills for the day are over, and N'ky has none of his own extra classes to attend.

Isath's thoughts are full of the sunshine that has disappeared for the day, now - sunshine she's been lingering in throughout much of the afternoon, soothing aching joints. She's unbothered by Cailluneth's intrusion (which is, indeed, no intrusion at all), and promises silently, without words, that hers will be along soon.

'Soon' is a little relative, though: Meara's slow to arrive, and it's not hard to see why, given how heavily she's using her stick, and how cautious, and pained, each movement is. You wouldn't know it from her face, though: she's got nothing but a smile for N'ky as she finally approaches, inviting him in to the office with a: "Could you get that for me? It's unlocked." If her dinner has been interrupted, there's no sign of that, either.

By the time Meara gets there, N'ky's almost worn a hole through his pockets with all the nervous hands-shoving he's been doing into them. The sight of the approaching Weyrlingmaster brings a look of relief to his face - though it's tempered by guilt as soon as he sees her limp. He quickly recovers and gives the woman a big, warm smile, nodding his head and moving to get the door, stepping in before her to hold it open fully. "I'm s-sorry to call you now, W-Weyrlingmaster, only I... I w-wanted to speak to you. It's... it's not urgent, but, I, um... th-there's something I'd like to..." Ask? Tell? "... s-speak to you about." And his jitteriness suggests it has to be now, while he's got the guts to do it.

"It's fine," says Meara, reassuringly, stepping past him into the office, though she's quick to sit down in the nearest of the chairs, draping her walking stick over her lap so that she can run the smooth wood between her fingers, beneath the table's edge. "We don't tend to eat much, of an evening. I find it gives me bad dreams. What is it you'd like to speak to me about, N'ky? You've got my full attention."

Before taking a seat for himself, N'ky looks over to the tea cart, chewing on his lip anxiously. "Are there c-cookies? Can I get you some cookies?" If there are some and they're wanted, he'll bring them over; if not, he'll sit straight down opposite the greenrider, leaning forward with his hands clasped in his lap. "I've been s-studying, Weyrlingmaster Meara, really hard." On his stutter as well as his classes, given how the former has less prominence in his speech. Or maybe he's just comfortable around her? "I've been reading books and j-journals, and going over everything I can find about being a leader. I'm s-still not ready for it, but... but I'm having trouble with, um..." And this is where he falters, nervously cracking his knuckles. "The... the thing is, I'm s-struggling with C'wlin's... style. I'm doing all I can to keep up with e-everything, but I'm finding it really hard."

There are cookies and though Meara initially hesitates, it largely seems as though she can't resist their lure; smiling, she agrees that she might like one, dinnertime or no. She's got that cookie in her hands when N'ky begins talking, and any intentions she might have had of eating in to it are put aside. "I know you have," says gently, when he's finished. "I've seen - Quinlys commented on it to me, too." Which would be necessary: Meara's been at fewer classes, these past few weeks, though she's obviously making every effort to be available. "Not every leadership style works for every person," she allows, then. "It's important to work out what it is that will work for you - and what won't."

That Meara agrees with him makes N'ky relax, slumping forward slightly in relief. "I've been reading mostly about, um, how leaders deal with people, ma'am, b-because you have to u-understand them before you can lead them. It's like... l-like when we'd herd the ovines, back home. It always w-went easiest once we understood how the flock thought, so we c-could anticipate them, and anticip-pate how the runners would react, and the canines, and then it all w-worked better. Not always perfect, but better." He steeples his fingers, pushing them together until a joint cracks, then quickly drops both hands down to his knees. "I don't th-think he gets that. Or he doesn't get me." Or vice versa. Or both! "S-so I was thinking, i-if I was a full rider, a-and I was in this position, w-would I have the option of requesting a... a wing transfer?"

"Or you and he are simply not communicating properly. Or-- there are plenty of reasons why it simply isn't working between you, and most of them don't have anything to do with either of you doing wrong. Sometimes, it just doesn't click." Meara sets down her cookie, dropping her hand back to the wooden cane still resting in her lap, and answers N'ky's question after a moment's consideration. "You would, certainly. You would have to get the approval of the Wingleader whose wing you wished to transfer into, but it isn't entirely uncommon for riders to move between wings at various times. Would you prefer to be flying with Cirrus, N'ky? Is that what you're requesting?"

N'ky nods along as Meara points out the various reasons for conflict. "I don't think we can u-understand each other." He knits his fingers together again, then nods in his head in response to her question. "I think that might be b-best, Weyrlingmaster Meara. A wing needs to be c-cohesive, and I feel like a s-square peg in a round hole in Flurry. E-every day I feel like I'm letting my wing down, s-some way, and I'd r-rather be a good - no, not good, that's the wrong word. I'd rather be a strong rider. Good doesn't mean the right thing."

After a moment, Meara remarks, "It takes strength to acknowledge when something isn't working, and can't be fixed." She seems serious about that, too. "Aisha is Cirrus' Wingleader, this month. If she's amenable to having you - for the rest of the month only, mind! - then I've no objection to you swapping. It is better, when our wings can actually work together effectively. You'll let me know how you get on with Aisha?"

"Th-thank you, ma'am." N'ky takes that as a compliment, blush colouring his cheeks as he drops his gaze. "I'll go find Aisha now and ask her, and have Cailluneth report back to you, if that's alright, ma'am?" Once again, Meara's calmed him, and N'ky smiles gratefully over at her. "Thank you so much, Weyrlingmaster Meara. I'm s-sorry to have disturbed you during dinner, even though you said it was alright. C-can I ask you though, d-do you think I'm getting better? What else can I do, to make sure I'll be a good wingleader, when it's my turn?"

"It's fine," reiterates Meara, her tone holding an edge of firmness to it: it's fine, leave it alone. "That sounds ideal. Isath will listen out for confirmation, one way or the other." Of his question, she hesitates, considering him with a thoughtful expression lingering upon her features. "It's not an on-off proposition, N'ky - not black or white. It's obvious that you're working hard. Whether that will translate into leadership ability remains to be seen; I honestly can't tell you. I hope so. I can certainly see what you're trying to do."

"I h-hope so too, ma'am. Um... c-can I ask one more question, please, before I go to Aisha?" N'ky pauses a second, then holds up his first two fingers; "Two questions. Um..." A thoughtful little filler, as he gets his wording straight in his head. "I've been thinking a bit, and I th-think I'd like to maybe give d-dragonhealing a try, after I graduate. Can I do that, and, um, c-could I also m-maybe be one of your assistants? A t-trainee assistant. Um... I'd like to learn f-from you. Like a - l-like a mentee. If that would be ok?"

Now, Meara reaches for her cookie again, breaking off a piece of it and bringing it to her mouth to chew on. It gives her time to consider what N'ky is to saying-- to do so without any immediate need to answer. "I can't answer you on dragonhealing, though I would certainly support your interest. I'd encourage you to talk to Leova: she'll be able to answer any questions you might have, and explain the process. Or U'sot, of course," she amends, naming the aging Senior Dragonhealer - a man some turns older than Meara, even." Her smile is encouraging, though. "We don't keep assistants on when there are no clutches in the barracks, but if you're still interested when the next queen rises, come and see us. I can't promise that I will still be in the barracks," and she looks wistful, and abruptly weary, "but we will certainly consider your request. Unofficially, of course, I'm more than happy to mentor you in the meantime."

What's said seems to please N'ky, and he nods at Meara. "I hope you're still here, ma'am." His preference for her over the other staff is pretty clear, after all. "Um, m-maybe when we graduate to Cirrus full-time, I'll see U'sot or Leova. I d-don't think I have time, now." What with everything he's already trying to fit into his days (and nights), and all. "Th-thank you, ma'am Meara. I'll... I'll c-come to you, for, um, m-mentoring... things." Maybe he doesn't know exactly what those things should be? "May I go to find Aisha now, ma'am?"

"No, I suppose you don't," says Meara, of time. She doesn't answer his comment about hoping she'll still be here, though her own uncertainty about the subject is written quite plainly across her face: the prospect of retirement is clearly not an easy one, for one reason or another. "You do that. Later. Eventually. There's no rush, of course. Go - find Aisha, see what can be worked out. Isath will keep an ear out." He's excused. She has a cookie to finish.