Difference between revisions of "Logs:In Partnership"

Storerooms, High Reaches Weyr

Massive in scale, the Weyr's main storage passage connects to the kitchen on one end and the outbound tunnel on the other. Large enough to admit a wagon laden with goods, the tunnel easily permits the unloading and organization of supplies into the various storerooms.

Branching off from this corridor are multiple caverns, the nearer two being 'open' stores from which residents can readily help themselves, while the deeper stores are kept locked up tight with a posted sign and inventory hung on a hook outside of each. An alcove next to the public stores serves as a catch-all area for reshelving items whose destination is uncertain; two sets of stone shelving and several bins hold these items neatly until a stores assistant has a moment to deal with them.

Though the storage caverns vary in size, shape, and the smoothness of their walls, all belong to the same system: whitewashed walls, swept floors, and most importantly, neatly labeled and inventoried shelves providing ample space to stow all the supplies a busy Weyr needs. Though there's no direct internal lighting, a glowbasket may be brought in from the niche outside each cavern, the better to ward off pests and the inky dark of deep caves.

In the time since H'vier brought Rhey and his 'family' to the Weyr, the boy has been difficult to track down (if H'vier has even tried). Then, abruptly, a note was delivered to the bronzerider with a meeting place (a far corner of the storerooms) and a time (not long before the storerooms are locked up for the evening). It's that time, now, and the storerooms are predictably dark and quiet-- but there's Rhey, sitting on top of a box of old toys, his knees drawn up towards his chin.

No doubt H'vier has tried to track down the young man and been annoyed by his inability to do so. This probably doesn't put him in the best of moods when he gets a note. But he shows up and doesn't look prone to violence, so that's something. "Was starting to think you'd bailed on me," is his quiet greeting as he approaches their meeting place.

"I didn't have anything to report," answers Rhey, not so much blithe as utterly unrepentant. "These things take time." It goes without saying that he does have something to report, now - but he doesn't come out with it immediately. Instead, studying the bronzerider, he says, "You've got an interesting place, here."

The snort that the bronzerider gives makes it clear enough he's not sure he believes Rhey. But since there's not actually much he can do about it, he doesn't linger on that implication. "What do you mean interesting? It's a Weyr, same as any other. Maybe not so nice as others, actually. But they all do the same thing." Crossing his arms across his chest, H'vier eyes the boy as well as can be done in the lacking light. "What've you got for me, then?"

Rhey drops his knees down, letting his legs swing: his feet don't touch the floor. "Never been to any other Weyr; I wouldn't know," he says, easily. "Let's call it an eye-opening experience, for now. A hopefully temporary one." Pressing one hand to each thigh, he says, "I've had word from Al: he's in place. They've had their first snowfalls, so they're... consolidating, he thinks. Lots of guard duty. Lots of intimidation. Most of the Bloods seem to be in hiding. Effectively, Rone's running the show."

H'vier studies Rhey for a few long moments, absorbing information that already has the wheels turning in that thick head of his. "That's all?" is the first thing he says, not particularly grateful of this actually probably useful information. "Tell your brother to get closer. I want to know everything Rone is doing. In detail." He looks about to say more, expression serious, maybe dangerous, but he stops and instead arches a brow at Rhey.

It may or may not be surprising that Rhey shows no visible reaction to this - except, perhaps, for the faintest upturns of his mouth, like a smile that doesn't quite escape. "You'll have to give him time," he points out. "Would you trust a brand new recruit, just like that? Rone's not a man who trusts easily; and can you blame him? He's doing what he can, listening where he can." That arched brow earns one in return, just short of a challenge.

Looming has always been pretty easy for the big bronzerider and that's about all he can do right now. Either he's smart enough not to raise a hand to the boy or there's a voice in his head telling him he damned well ought to be. Instead H'vier points quite seriously at Rhey. "It would be in your interests to encourage him to get on his good side as fast as possible. I don't care how. He can suck his cock, for all I care. It's you that should be there. You're smarter." The way he says it isn't really a compliment but it's kind of difficult to say something like that and be insulting. "I could still dump you some where for them to find."

Looming is not difficult to do - there's a whole foot of height difference between the two, and despite the fact that Rhey is sitting relatively high up, he's easily overshadowed. Still, he seems undaunted. "If you dump me somewhere for them to find, I'll end up dead, and you'll have no more information than you do now... and no easy way of getting information from Al," he says.

"Dead. I knew you were more brains than brawn but I didn't figure you'd just curl up and die the first chance you got." That or H'vier might be starting to put some of those past cues together a little more properly. If he has any thoughts, though, he doesn't bring them up himself just yet. Resigned, "Do you or your brothers need anything the Weyr hasn't provided?" He did say he'd take care of them. Or he meant to if he didn't.

Rhey's chin lifts, as though he really is about to argue that point - but evidently he thinks better of it, because his answer is far more neutral. "I think they'd appreciate being able to send a letter home... they weren't sure how to do it, and I think they're too scared to ask anyone." He lets that hang for a moment, and then backtracks. "Look. There is something else you should probably know. About Rone."

"Have them write and I'll see that it's delivered." See? Not a horrible asshole all the time. The rest is enough to keep H'vier quiet and listening, arms crossing again while he does his best to be patient and not irritated by all the information he wants that he doesn't have.

Rhey answers that first with a nod, but it's unsurprisingly the rest that he focuses his attention on. "Lord Huelet didn't die of old age, or because he was in poor health." Though he was in his sixties, and did have poor health. "Rone had a large dose of fellis added to his father's tea."

H'vier doesn't say anything for a time after that. If he'd been expecting anything in particular, this certainly wasn't it. Not that the fact itself is very surprising. He has quite a low opinion of Rone. But the source is unexpected. To him, anyway. "How would you know something like that?"

While H'vier takes in this information, Rhey sits very quietly, and very still, watching him. He can't be surprised by the question, when it comes; certainly, it doesn't take him long to come up with an answer for it. "I may have seen something I shouldn't have." He's quite calm about it, too.

"And he knows," H'vier guesses to the best of his ability. "Is he looking for you, then? That's why you wanted to come here. I'm sure the Weyrleader would be happy to know something like that." He says it in a contrary way that suggests maybe that wouldn't be the case. Never mind that H'vier is making a lot of assumptions. That's kind of what he does.

Rhey neither confirms nor denies that guess, or any of the rest of it, though it certainly is a reasonable one. He swallows, squaring his jaw, and says, instead, "Would he?" He's not convinced. Legs swinging again, the boy adds: "I don't suppose it matters, really. It's not proof of anything - not coming from one teenage boy."

Again H'vier is pensively silent for a few moments. When he speaks, his crossed arms loosen and the bronzerider may not relax, exactly, but there's some easing somewhere that lets him say, "I don't need proof that he killed Lord Huelet to want his head myself. The Weyr," more like H'vier personally, "won't tolerate his disrespect. I will make him pay. Tell me now if your balls haven't dropped far enough to be of use to me, kid. I won't tolerate disrespect from you any better than from him."

Rhey's answer, again, is prompt: "Good." And then: "I have no interest in disrespecting you or anyone else. I do expect a certain amount of respect in return, however. I am, after all, helping you out. In a way, we're all helping each other." His balls, well, he'll leave them out of it. "I want Rone gone. I'll do what I need to."

That earns a small smile, if it can be seen through his short beard in the low light. "Indeed," is H'vier's response. "I assume you'll just send me another note when you've got more to give me?" Judging from his voice, this isn't his favorite thing. But as Rhey said, the boy is helping him, so he doesn't complain. Anymore.

"Do you have an easier way of doing it?" says Rhey, easily. He seems amused by the tone of H'vier's voice - he even smiles. "Because I can't think of one. If you need to contact me, well, that's more difficult."

"You're in a Weyr now, kid. You ought to learn not to underestimate dragons." If there's a chill where there wasn't before, maybe it's Reisoth or maybe it's just an odd draft. It's winter now, after all. These things are to be expected. "I'm sure we'll find each other if we need to. Until then, enjoy your stay in High Reaches, Rhey." The bronzerider gives the boy a non-standard salute before turning to head back the way that he'd come.

Not much seems to discompose Rhey, who has a self-assurance well beyond his presumably few turns.. but that has him freezing, and it's enough that he has no answer for H'vier, and can simply stare after him into the gloom. Well.