Logs:Reports to Tevrane
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| RL Date: 9 May, 2014 |
| Who: H'kon, Tevrane |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Tevrane requests a report from Alpine; H'kon obliges. |
| Where: Lord Holder's Apartment, Nabol Hold |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Ienavi/Mentions, Y'rel/Mentions |
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| Lord Holder's Apartment, Nabol Hold Lavish and enormous, Lord Nabol's suite is the largest and most grand in the Hold, with a spectacular view out over the nearby grounds. The heavy doors open into a large, if comfortable, living area, filled with several leather couches and matching chairs, spaced around the marble fireplace. Most of the walls are decorated with an elaborate mural, though a tapestry version of Nabol's brown and white badge hangs proudly above the fireplace. Underfoot, elaborately woven carpets patterned in brown and white hide stone floors from view. A door on the far wall leads directly into the Lord's bedchamber, a large room that is nonetheless dominated by the enormous canopied bed that sits in the middle of it, not to mention the slightly risque frescoes laid out upon the walls. Two more doors lead off from here, one to the private bathing chamber with sunken marble bathtub, the other directly to the Lady Holder's suite. The Lord's personal office, and the adjoining private records room are also accessible from the main room, more formally decorated using dark wood panelling and stained glass lamps. It's been a busy turn for Nabol - and for the Lady Tevrane in particular, understandably. She's never overt with her favouritism, though perhaps Alpine riders may have noticed how their wing-patch seems to gain them the occasional boon. This seven, however, it was a formal request for attendance that was delivered: would Alpine be so kind as to send a representative to update her on some matters, knowing the area as they do? On arrival, H'kon will be shown up to the Lady's own living area. It's not much changed since her father's time (though she's probably had those frescoes in the bedroom covered up, not that that matters at this present moment). Tevrane herself sits in one of the chairs, dressed simply but formally in a dark blue dress, her hands clasped to her lap. There's a certain formality to the council chambers at the Weyr; H'kon, Alpine's chosen representative, would be much more at ease were he shown into an equivalent at the hold. He's stiff-backed and formal, nodding to his escort, and giving him no more mind. He waits at the entryway where he was left, greeting the woman with a slightly projected, "Lady Nabol," and a deep nod, the only break in a stance that remains, otherwise, at full attention. "Wingsecond," answers the Lady, lifting her chin to regard H'kon levelly. She's more than ten turns his senior; a plain woman, less imperious than some of her counterparts but still appropriately formal. "Come and sit. I can order tea, if you would like? Or something stronger - in the cabinet, there, if that's your preference." H'kon's escort, having done his duty, closes the door behind him, leaving the lady and the brownrider quite alone. H'kon lifts his head, faintly, in acknowledgement, and makes his way cautiously forward. His boots have already been scraped on a stiff rug outside; he leaves no overt trace as he moves through the room. "As you see fit," comes as he hesitates to sit, lest he be sent to that cabinet. Tevrane raises her eyebrows, making no attempt to hide her amusement, subtle though it is. "I wonder if you would have a preference were I someone else," she says, with a smile. "Or if we were located somewhere else? If you would like something, please, help yourself to it. Otherwise..." She gestures towards the other chairs, giving a relatively diffident shrug. "I certainly don't mind." "My purpose here is your summons," is said as graciously as is possible for that brownrider, a tight, strained smile coming with the comment, as if it could soften it. It probably can't. But the Lady Tevrane ought to know him well enough to at least be accustomed to this sort. And H'kon does indeed sit, the only remaining delay the time it takes him to pull his riding jacket from his back and drape it over the chair instead. "Y'rel offers his regrets. He would have represented his wing, were he not detained elsewhere." It may be suggested that Tevrane rather enjoys H'kon, in that 'you are SO WEIRD' kind of way. Certainly, her smile continues to hold some amusement. "Of course he would have," she agrees, in lieu of continuing what is clearly a conversation going nowhere at all. "In any case, I rather imagine you'll do just as well, if not better, for my purposes. I want to know your impressions of my outer territories. Is there anything I ought to know?" If there's any sort of comment he might have had on the topic of his wingleader, the only bit that gets to external expression is a bit of a pull that, for a moment, deepens one of the lines at the corner of his left eye. "Hm," comes with a nod; H'kon has been prepared enough by that absentee bronzerider to have come prepared by visits around the area the day before. Leaning forward, just faintly, "I might ask, first, if there were any particulars you were wondering after?" Tevrane's expression is surprisingly neutral as she considers the brownrider, now, though her teeth rest thoughtfully upon the dry skin of her lower lip, chewing idly. "It's been a little over a turn since we began our rebuilding process," she answers, calmly. "You'll note that things have changed, a little." Nabol certainly seems rather less the haven of ostentatiousness and indulgence it once was for its Bloods; rebuilding is far more important than that. "Our tithes are solid. You can reassure your Weyr of that. But you and your riders spend more time with my people, the ones who live beyond my easy reach. I'm interested to know your thoughts. How are they faring? Are they happy? Productive? Is there anything I ought to be mindful of?" "Hm," is an affirmative. He has noticed. Has watched. "I will," is as much a promise as it is an act of committing as much to memory. "Productive, certainly." H'kon's stance has not changed. He may not even have blinked, and his eyes have certainly not strayed from the Lady Holder as she speaks. "That much can be measured." There. Now he blinks. "Work at least gives people a task. For those displaced after the camps," those who have remained, those who, perhaps, H'kon and those riders he trusts more than others will watch more closely, "it is some other purpose to which they might turn their attentions." "And over the winter? When the fields are covered in snow, and the days are short?" Tevrane's question is bald, and asks for no sugar-coating in answer. "There's every suggestion this could be a long winter. A cold one." "It will be a difficult winter. As was the last." Of course, Lady Tevrane could've asked with flowers and lollipops and rainbows, and H'kon wouldn't have thought to sugar-coat. "Whether those families who have enlisted outside labour will be able to maintain them, I do not know. What support Nabol," the faintest nod, remembered deference, "may give them when there is no rebuilding to be done will determine much, I should think. But if there were longterm promises made already, to the labourers, I've not heard of them." "I've not heard of anyone being cast out, now that the harvest is in," ventures Tevrane, furrows appearing in her brow. "But perhaps I wouldn't. I know what people are like. What they can be like, in any case." It's a subtle correction, clearly made for her own benefit, and not H'kon's. She fixes her gaze more firmly upon him. "I will support my people. I have done so, and I'm certainly not going to stop now. We don't need unrest." "None who were meant to be there on a permanent basis, so far as I am aware." Carefully, "Some have moved on. I'd not expected resettlement to be a permanent solution on all fronts." H'kon falls quiet a moment, his jaw working, his hands squeezing at his knees, where each one rests. "Is the support you provide them now sustainable?" Drawing back, dipping his head, the wingsecond adds, "If I may ask." And waits there, for all he'd had the sound a moment before of going on. Tevrane is silent for a moment, visibly studying the brownrider. Then, abruptly, she sighs. "To a greater or lesser extent," is her answer, which obviously doesn't please her; she wrinkles her nose, shaking her head. "Maybe. There's no point people staying where they are, when there's no work for them. It's a difficult question. You were going to say something else." H'kon nods, offering promptly, "Only that. There must be practicality in these matters as well. And people will move as they always do, when they have no land of their own." The brownrider finally relaxes now, enough that his back touches his jacket once more, against the back of that chair. "At least once your outlying regions have reestablished themselves, you might see greater support from them. And the Weyr is not unaware of the efforts put into collecting a tithe, in the meantime." It's almost an offer of assistance, albeit veiled. Gracelessly, Tevrane props one elbow up upon her skirt-covered knee, resting her chin upon her knuckles. "Mm," she says. "The Weyr's support and understanding is, as always, appreciated. I've made it clear to my people that the Weyr will not be refused on Search, when you next have a clutch on the sands, should you choose to Search beyond your own caverns." Now, however, she straightens. "Ienavi seeks to marry her son to Edeline's daughter. It's my intention to have Devaki's daughter for my grandson. That unites all your holds. Wingsecond-- tell your Weyrleaders to tread carefully. I owe you: you have my support. But the others... you don't want them working as a bloc against you. It's a bad business, that much intermarrying, but I'd be putting myself in a worse position if I didn't take part." H'kon acknowledges that promise in return with a nod, another of those, "Hm"s. All that talk of marriage, however, brings a frown, and once again, H'kon sits forward. "Indeed," has the slightest ruffle of feathers beneath his tone. The rider says nothing more on the topic, nor at all, for some time, although the working of his jaw suggests the working of his mind as well. What he does finally put forward to break the silence is, "Was there anything else, Lady Tevrane?" Tevrane rather looks as though she'd really like to open H'kon's head and peer inside; she seems to find the working of his jaw fascinating. "Of course," she says, "my grandson's the oldest of that generation, and he's only six. Still." Alas, despite her fascination she seems aware enough that she's unlikely to get a glimpse into the inner workings of the brownrider's head; such a shame. She shakes her head: "That's all. I'd appreciate hearing anything you and your riders have to report, though. Eyes and ears on the ground. I appreciate your time." Not this time, although H'kon does seem to like the Lady Holder well enough. Enough that, along with that final nod, he'll accord her, "In the skies, as well," with just the hints of a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It's with this that he stands, bowing his head (different than a nod, because of the spelling) to issue a farewell of, "Until the next, Lady Nabol." "And in the skies, too," agrees Tevrane, and she laughs, genuinely and only a little horsey. "Until then, Wingsecond. I'm sure Destin is hovering around outside ready to lead you out, in case you decide to steal what's left of the silver or something." Is that a roll of her eyes? Why yes, yes it is. And certainly, the man in question is standing just outside, looking rather as though he's been at attention - ready to leap to his lady's defence! - all this time. As it should be. H'kon must surely approve. |
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