Difference between revisions of "Logs:An Apprenticeship Resumed"

Harper Classroom, High Reaches Weyr

A thick door provides some soundproofing against the escape of sour notes and the chanting of Harper Ballads that are common in this room. Chalkdust from the blackboard lingers in the air, motes of the stuff catching the light from many glows clustered in a hanging basket in the middle of the ceiling as well as tucked into sconces around the walls.

Just inside the door, cubicles line one wall, each labeled with a child's name and containing various bits of lesson equipment: slates, chalk, scrap hide and paper, pens, ink and pots of glue. Long benches span the room, providing seating for at least fifty children between the ages of seven and fourteen; a tall wood screen stands folded near the middle of one wall, ready to divide the room into groups of older and younger students for more age-targeted study. Storage shelves along the back wall hold musical instruments for learning, mostly small hand drums and single bore pipes plus two rather battered xylophones.

Having instant access to information on who comes and goes from the Weyr is both good and bad. Good, because it means keeping track of people is easy. Bad, because it makes it really easy to stalk people. Case in point: The moment Emme hears through Rhazekth that Kharven has returned from his trip to the Harper Hall, she's rushing herself through an after-search-and-rescue drill bath. And literally shows up at the entrance to the classroom with damp hair, a boot half-untied, and her hastily thrown on t-shirt inside out. At least she got the pants right?

Class is not in session, but a meeting /is/: all of the weyr's posted Journeyman perched on child-sized desks or leaning gingerly against chalk-dust covered walls. Kharven's the senior harper, but this is really a group of equals, and they're conversing in earnest when Emme arrives. Her footsteps, however, put an end to that: all of them turn, one and one and one, in what could very well be an intimidating mass-movement. Kharven, at least, is composed enough to rise from his leaning point and say, calmly, "Emmeline. I should have known."

Intimidation. Psssht. Since when has anyone known Emme to have -any- shame at all when it comes to Harper-related things. "Well, hello... everyone." Her somewhat impish smile completely belies the fact that it's ALL FAKE. Really, she'd like to throw herself at Kharven and shake him by the lapels until he gives her the dirt. However. "Are my footsteps that distinctive?" Innocent.

"No," says Kharven, though he's looking amused; so too are a couple of the other harpers. "But you're not unexpected. Do you mind?" That last question seems aimed at the others, whose murmurs evidently give him all the answer he needs, since a moment later he's stepping away from the wall and towards the door. "We'll finish this shortly," he promises his colleagues, before indicating the corridor with a tip of his head, for Emme.

"You could at least pretend." Emme protests, exasperation in her voice. And that's despite the fact that -she- barged in on a meeting! "Though I suppose being predictable has it's advantages." And to further amuse the rest of the Journey-crew, she flashes them all another charming smile and wave before stepping out into the hall as directed.

Kharven's reply is blithe: "I'll try and remember that for next time, then." The other harpers watch them go, but Kharven doesn't say anything until they're out in the corridor and he's closed the door behind them. "I had intended to send for you in the morning; clearly, that was poor thinking on my part. You riders - nothing gets past you."

There is almost certainly another blithe reply on the tip of Emme's tongue. Really. The dangerously mischeivous glint in her eyes quite clearly says so! But, she bites it back. "CLearly." she agrees with his assessment, lips twitching in amusement for a second. "Are you kidding? Rhazekth's been monitoring every last arrival since the moment you left. Patience is obviously not one of my virtues." Duh. "Wellllll, what did they -say-?"

Mock serious, but still unquestionably amused: "So I see." Is Kharven dragging it out deliberately? He certainly seems perfectly comfortable positioning himself up against the wall, and glancing idly down the corridor at a group of children who immediately run away when they see their teacher. "They thought your song showed promise," he tells her, finally.

Alright then. Emme is going to lean against the opposing wall, arms folded across her chest. One of the children giggles before running away - she sees that the rider is deliberately mimicing the teacher. There is, at least, a flicker of surprise there in her face. "The song? Really? That was pretty low on my list of convincing qualities I thought. I mean, I pretty much threatened to harass... nevermind. You don't need to know that. So, it shows promise? I assume that means they're going to re-write it."

"I don't know that they intend to do anything in particular with it," answers Kharven, shaking his head. "But they were pleased to see that you were-- practicing? That may not even be the word." He levels his gaze on the brownrider, and finally, a low smile twists itself into place. "They're willing to put you on probation. Your ability to continue with your apprenticeship will hinge on your winter exams, which gives you a few months to prove yourself. Your... your behaviour, your reputation, things you say, they will also probably count." In other words: be careful what you threaten to do?

Her initial squeak of victory is understandably dampened by the rest of what Kharven says, and Emme's brow furrows slightly. "What does that mean exactly? My behavior, my reputation... they do realize there are some things that being a rider entails that I have no control over." she prompts. "So what, does this mean I'm going to have people spying on me or something?" Absolutely puzzled, but cautiously optimistic?

His answer is bland. "It means if you start agitating publically for exile rights, they may have second thoughts." It doesn't seem from his tone to imply that he agrees with them: he's just laying out the facts. "They know you're a rider, and they understand that; they won't require you to follow usual apprentice rules. They'll expect you to attend classes at the Hall as well as here. They just want to make it clear that if you're going to represent the Harper Hall, the expect a certain... they'll just be keeping an eye on you."

Understanding dawns, of course. And it winds up accompanied by a bitter scowl. "Exiles -do- have rights. The same as every other person born on Pern. That shouldn't be a difficult concept for the Harper Hall to understand. That wasn't even why I wanted to... or what I wrote... oh forget it." Emme's lips thin into a smile more like the slightly cynical one she sported when they first arrived here. "Thank you. For the news, and for speaking on my behalf. I appreciate it." She leans up then to try and give him a kiss on the cheek. "Now maybe they have something to complain about. That, and the fact that I'm going to go have a drink now. And it won't be juice." Hmph.

Kharven's expression twists at Emme's remarks, but he holds his tongue until after that kiss-- which at least makes him smile. "It's not so bad as all that, Emme." Emme! It's an improvement. "It's not that they don't see your people as having rights. It's that they're concerned about any attempts to-- get retribution. It's complicated. They don't want to be seen to be harbouring an agitator. It's going to be fine. Come and see me in the next couple of days, and we'll work out a schedule that fits in with your rider work." A short pause, and then: "And congratulations, Apprentice."