Difference between revisions of "Logs:Foreign Favor"

>---< Lilah's Sanitized Watercolor Weyr, Fort Weyr >-------------------------<

                                                                            
  The whole of this weyr seems strangely sanitized and impersonal, with     
  walls painted white and cleaned often if the subtle shine is any          
  indication. The first room is vaguely triangular in shape, with the       
  generous dragon's wallow carved into a deep curve towards the right. The  
  rest of it appears to have been left as a reception room, a white-washed, 
  stone table centered between the wallow and the far-left wall with its    
  surface kept clear of any knickknacks and four varnished, wooden chairs of
  simple taste each claiming a side. On the left wall runs a long, brass    
  shelf, upon which sits a small collection of bound books and a large      
  fantastical watercolor depicting a scene that could never exist anywhere  
  in Pern. Hooks under the shelf hold flight gear and even a flamethrower,  
  still leaving space for more.                                             
                                                                            
  A wide, doorless entryway at the northmost point of the triangle leads    
  through to the rider's private quarters - an oval-shaped room a third of  
  the size of the last. Within, the hearth is small, but finely-decorated   
  with ceramic, white tiles, with a woven brass safety screen protecting the
  room from embers. The double bed lies in the left-hand portion of the     
  room, made up with crisp, white linens and a down comforter covered with  
  soft, white fabric embroidered with raised white vines. A white, wool     
  blanket lies folded neatly at the bottom of the bed. In the middle of the 
  far wall, another unprotected archway heralds the existence of another    
  room: a small bathing room, complete with pool, basin and shelves, which  
  hold a container of soapsand and a stack of towels.

It's not the first time K'zin has had to get creative to go around an unhelpful lifemate. Unfortunately, the bronzerider is of very little brain and imagination. Who knows what lingering near Eliyaveith's ledge will look like to other people? Rasavyth is so disinterested by whatever it is K'zin is up to that he's fallen asleep in the bowl, head tucked along his chest, all his lids shut. "I should've brought flowers or something," the young man says to himself (since his dragon is clearly not listening). His waiting stance is awkward, hands in jacket pockets and riding helmet still on to help guard against the chill and rain.

Eliyaveith is in residence in the hatching cavern, seeking their warmth to get away from the colder parts of the Weyr, but the heat of her mind lies like a blanket over her territory. She does not disturb the foreign bronze, shying away from him this time in contrast to her last encounter. Whether she is aware of K'zin's lingering or not, it is some middling time between half of an hour and an hour before she returns to her weyr, crossing from the entrance to the records room towards that low ledge that she has been assigned since weyrlinghood. She notices K'zin with a flick of dark eyes, but she doesn't stop to greet him.

Well, that's alright, since K'zin seems to have taken it into his head to cross to address her. "Excuse me, Weyrwoman Lilah?" At least it's a respectful enough greeting, even if he's already blushing when he adds, "High Reaches duties, ma'am. Would you have a few minutes to spare?" Given that he's all wet and has clearly been waiting to see her? He doesn't even look like he's going to point that out, but it's all there to be seen. Thank goodness riding leathers are fairly weather resistant.

"I figured if it were important, you would follow me whether I said anything or not," is Lilah's not-quite answer to that question, an expectant lift of her brows as she shoots a look over her shoulder to the bronzerider without stopping. Her path is clear; it is her weyr and the cover it provides from the weather, and the waiting warmth inside. "Eliyaveith says that your dragon is welcome to join her in the hatching cavern, but she didn't want to disturb him."

K'zin glances in Rasavyth's direction before following the goldrider but hesitating once he's just inside. He's drippy, after all, and he doesn't want to track any mud or water about the place. He does shift his helmet off his head and hold it in both hands in front of him, probably a respectful gesture. "I think it's better for me if he stays asleep. We don't exactly agree on what I'm doing, but Dragonhealer Leova recommended it." He shifts a little where he stands, boots making a squelch noise that stills him. "I was hoping I could ask for your help." There's a pause and then just a little wince as he adds, "Since you're Tela's friend." Trading on your girlfriend's friendships is probably poor form no matter how important it is.

There is enough interest sparked in dark eyes by the mention of a dragonhealer and disagreement between dragon and rider, but the weyrwoman shows little of it. Indeed, Lilah presses that discomfort he so clearly shows by shrugging off her jacket and hanging it neatly on a hook, before wandering to the back of the weyr and her private quarters where some helpful drudge has lit the fire in this weather. "I don't have any tea or klah, but I do have wine or whiskey," she offers, still talking backwards to the bronzerider. "What does this type of favor call for?"

"Neither, thank you kindly." K'zin politely refuses the refreshment. Perhaps he doesn't plan on wetting her doorstep for too long. "Information that I probably wouldn't be given myself. And really, not even the information itself so much as your read on it. So, I guess it's really more time and a little effort that I'm asking for." He seems a little surprised to find it to be so, as if he hadn't considered it that way before.

Lilah makes a small noise in answer, but she casts a look expectantly to K'zin, gesturing for him to follow her into the prisine bedroom beyond. Even if he only lingers in that door as well. A bottle is taken from the hearth of her private fire, even as she invites, "What information are you looking for that I can find?" A pause, before she questions pointedly, "Birth records?"

"Sort of," K'zin's cheeks renew their color under his natural dusky tone. He's hesitant to make his way into the weyr, and actually is delayed because he takes off his boots before coming, his woolen socks sufficing. At least they have no holes, even if it's hardly a 'professional' look. He doesn't explain about taking of his boots, at least. That would make it (more) awkward. "I'm just looking to find out if any of Rasavyth's offspring had any unusual problems that developed later. Or at hatching, I guess, since I wasn't here for that. And then, that's sort of another thing," so it's really two favors, "I'm trying to piece together what happened over the first four months or so that we were grounded in Telgar, both with us in Telgar, and at least what happened with the hatching that we missed. Dragonhealer Leova," he shifts nervously where he stands some paces inside the door trying not to drip on anything important, "though perhaps making a visual recreation of events would help Ras to stop obsessing about all the things he has trouble remembering." There's a brief pause before he adds, "I thought it couldn't hurt to try. Doing nothing is..." Awful. The word is written on his face but he gives up before getting it out.

As Lilah pours her glass and sets aside the whiskey, she turns back to watch K'zin and his socked feet with reserved thoughtfulness as she sips slowly. Her answer is slow to come, but it is lightly even in the face of all that that she offers, "It seems his daughter, at least, is ready to rise soon. There are rumors from Southern that Aedrielth is proddy or glowing or something of that nature. The other weyrlings--." She pauses, studying him for a moment. "Nothing jumps to mind. But, we had our own classes and our own focus. But I think I would have heard something. We were only a month ahead of his offspring."

K'zin sucks in a breath at the words 'ready to rise' in connection to Rasavyth's golden daughter. His expression is troubled for a moment, but then he shoves the lump that isn't visible in his throat down and his face clears. The effort is obvious. "Aedrielth has seemed in good health, that you know of? The healers have never noted any... abnormalities? She's not..." He tries to think how to put it. "Having trouble?" He fails and his face shows he knows it. "Would you... be willing to check in with your dragonhealers? Just to be sure? I'd be... I'd owe you." Whatever that's worth.

"I will look into her at Southern," promises Lilah at that, though her brows curve upwards curiously, perhaps a bit sharply for the talk of a queen having trouble. "And I will have Eliyaveith check the dragons that are still here. For anything, but she has also felt Rasavyth's-- mind. Perhaps if there is something there, she would recognize it." Though, the way she watches him over the rim of her glass holds a question, expectant as she takes a slow sip.

The bronzerider's breath comes roughly again. His expression is more indecision and then it clears. "If... you want more of the story," K'zin starts slowly, "I'd better take off my jacket and ask for a glass of whiskey." It's that kind of story. But he's not forcing her to take him up on it, judging by the way he doesn't move. It's an invitation.

"There are hooks in the other room," Lilah invites at that, a hint of a smile brief on her lips for that indecision, for that opening that he leaves. But the goldrider turns away to gather the requested glass, pouring a generous amount of whiskey into the glass she procures for K'zin.

The younger man considers the foreign goldrider thoughtfully. "Maybe... this isn't the moment. I don't want to keep you from your day." K'zin takes a step back. "I'll tell you what," beat, "I'm going to ask you to come see me, once you've had a chance to check on some things, when you have some time, and we'll have a drink and talk about things. I'll show you the pages I've compiled about what's happened so far." He makes the offer and it seems genuine. "How does that sound?" Fair? He's going for fair. "And maybe by then you'll have asked me to call you Lilah, Weyrwoman." Since divulging one's secrets is generally done to people with whom one is on a name-to-name basis.

Lilah's lips twist, and she offers even as she sets aside the glass, "Perhaps one day, bronzerider." But, she follows it up with repeating her promise firmly of, "I will find what I can for you. If there is anything to report, you will know of it." That, it seems, will do as a farewell, since she turns away to start stripping out of her own boots. And if he lingers? Well, she seems to intend to strip out of the rest of her damp clothes as well.

No, no, lingering is for bronzeriders without girlfriends. K'zin's exit has a simple, "Thank you, ma'am," and then a pause in the outer weyr to put his boots back on and square away the laces before he's moving out i