Logs:What The Sea Brings
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| RL Date: 5 September, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Devaki, Ilicaeth, Haibroth |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Devaki has a favor to ask of Alida on behalf of his cousin. The bluerider's accommodating. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 19, Month 9, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Nidra/Mentions, Issedi/Mentions |
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| It's mid-morning when Haibroth stretches out with a rush of air to greet Ilicaeth: « The Lord wishes to see you this afternoon. » The brown dragon's not particularly bothered either way whether the response is positive or negative, though as always the watch dragon seems eager to spend some time with another dragon, a sense of anticipation in his thoughts. Good thing it's mid-morning, since Alida's busy with Ilicaeth conducting Wing exercises. The blue's mentally facile enough to divert enough of his concentration from work mid-air to note in clipped, quick baritone to Haibroth, « We'll be there mid-afternoon. Got stuff ta do after drills. » Though he's distacted in contact, his touch quickly gone from the brown's mind, the watchdragon can also feel the blue's sandy gust of mica-infused sand: He's looking forward to yakking it up, sharing information, too. And, when said mid-afternoon hour is reached, it finds the Glacier pair popping out from Between and spiralling down to the Hold's courtyard, ALida climbing, then sliding her way down from her lifemate and striding into the ancient Hold in search of Devaki. Ilicaeth powers himself up to the 'heights, settling companionably close to Haibroth, and immediately lapsing into genial chatter. « Good! The sun will be at the perfect angle by mid-afternoon, » Haibroth reports, with no small amount of gratification at the acceptance. And indeed, when the pair arrive, the mid-afternoon sun is streaming across the fireheights, making for the perfect sunning spot while they catch up, the older brown interested in the latest goings-on. Inside the Hold, the hearths are already being stoked in preparation for the chill of the evening, and most -- while they take note of Alida's presence -- quickly look away when they spot her knot. Not all, however: an older man strides up expectantly towards the rider. "Bluerider Alida?" there's a lilting note like it's a query, and yet barely without waiting for her to respond positively: "Kiatan, the new Steward. Lord Devaki told me to expect you. This way, if you would," he gestures, but it seems he's either well trained, or word has been passed on from said Lord, as he seems unbothered by leading the way, leaving Alida to choose whether to keep pace with him or hang back. Catching the last of the nice sun before a typical 'Reachian winter from hell is awesome, and Ilicaeth supplies Haibroth with what he craves of news and such, the blue even adding in a story here and there, if the brown is agreeable. Of course, the blue also wants to be caught up on what Haibroth and the brown's rider hear and see all through the Hold, as well, and he deftly winds such inquiries in between his own answers. His rider - now inside and taking keen note of the sights, scents, sounds of the Hold - finds herself smirking and head-shaking internally as most avoid really looking at her, though her incisive greens meet directly enough with Kiatan's gaze when he hales her. A bob of her braided, pale head gives him silent affirmative, the woman then murmuring in her mile a second alto, "Well-met, Steward Kiatan. Thank you..." before she follows him about a pair of paces to the rear. As always, her senses remain keen and active, feeding her details about whatever's noticed along the way towards where Devaki might be holed up. There's talk of ships, of course -- the Hold's first since the end of the Pass already having its maiden voyage. Haibroth can't remember what they called it, but it was something to do with the sea and very nice, and just about everyone's had a bit of a ride in it -- even P'ken (though there's perhaps a faint hint of jealousy here from the brown). The journey down the corridor is relatively uneventful; Kiatan's nodding and greeting everyone he passes by name, and his accent places him as High Reaches' bred. He stops in front of a plain door with a single, sharp rap, opening it up, then tipping his head towards Alida and gesturing inside. The room beyond is relatively plain, for an office -- there's no fancy trappings or tapestries, though there is a hearthside, already burning, and a balcony -- the doors of which are currently open, allowing a fresh breeze into the room. Devaki's seated behind the plain desk, reviewing hides with a distinct sort of frown, glancing up as the door opens and immediately standing. "Alida," he greets, with a smile as he walks around the desk. "I'm honored you came." « They oughtta' build one ship big enough ta hold at least one mid-sized dragon... » Ilicaeth chuckles to his 'host,' sending the brown an image of his Hold-bound self splayed out along the deck of something that looks like a combination of a pirate and a cargo ship borrowed and mixed from his rider's mind. As they trade talk and such, the blue asks about the state of the people in the Hold, and just about everything else - in general or detailed - he can think of. As for his rider, *she's* observing, of course, noting the path they're taking, the looks and words exchanged, how others react to the sight of her as she too nods towards a face or two along the way. Doesn't hurt to be affable...for once. With the Steward's head tip comes her own polite return nod, booted feet then stepping her smartly inside the room, where greens instantly take in what's literally behind the (likely) closing door to her aft. Greens flick back towards the Lord when he uses her name, a near-automatic salute offered with respect for his rank even as her gaze assesses him, his surroundings. His words of 'honored' bring a slow creep of a half-smirk half-smile to her lips, the woman then moving nearer to the desk and murmuring, "I think yer the only one ta say those words in my life, aside from Ilicaeth." The hint of dark humor and honesty in her alto might silent speak of her belief the Devaki's going a little overboard. Haibroth's a little less interested in the people, but he dutifully relays tidbits here and there -- nothing exceptionally interesting, though some speculation on just whom Lord Devaki will support in the Nabol stakes (the upshot of which is pretty much everything from 'his own son', to 'his wife cares more than he does'). The brown is much more interested in the thought of a boat to carry them around. « Maybe I'll have mine suggest that. » Surely that will go down well? There's a faint nod for Kiatan -- the Steward shutting the door after Alida and departing silently at Devaki's indication. "Why, and here I thought we parted on such good terms. I won't lie, I do want something from you, but it's a favor that I'll owe you. Do you want to hear it?" He leans against the desk, watching Alida with a tip of head, like he's not overly bothered either way. Yes; human stuff *is* much less interesting, but, since they're lifemated to humans... The blue's rasping sands give a shrug. Must keep their humans happy with *some* things. Cranky creatures. There's a soft rumble of internal laughter kept away from Haibroth at the thought of his asking P'ken for that boat, but he lets it drift over to his rider, who perhaps unexpectedly gives a secretive smirk for such, then shifting it over to a quick bit of a real chortle at the Lord's next words. "You don't play the wounded party too well..." is riposted back with a decent mix of lightly mocking humor, the woman slowly meandering around his 'office' while he speaks. A small shrug finds her soon looking back towards him, then noting casually, "Why not. Though, I gotta say...tongues're gonna start waggin' if we keep meetin' so openly like this." Pause. "People'll say we're in love." Smirk. The Lord's eyes follow Alida's path while she explores, chuckling. "Well, I figured you'd see right through me, regardless." It's the latter that earns an even bigger smile from Devaki. "Would you prefer we sneak around? That will earn far more rumors -- though honestly, what's said about me at the Weyr would mean it would damage your reputation far more than mine." He gestures towards one of the chairs to indicate she can seat herself, although he continues to lounge against the edge of the desk. "Nidra, she's my cousin -- well," his eyes go skyward as he corrects himself, "Technically, a second cousin once-removed. She's expressed a wish to Impress a dragon, and while I... I don't necessarily agree, she's a determined young lady, and I respect that." A flicker of a smile, and a spread of his hands, "What can I say, I'm a sucker for a strong-willed woman. I understand that you aren't Searching outside of the Hold for Hraedhyth's clutch, but I was hoping perhaps you might be willing to assist." A moment's hesitation, before he admits, "Honestly? I'm hoping -- expecting the girl won't Impress and she'll come home in a few months. She's sharp, and I think she'd do wonderfully learning the ropes of being a guard at a smaller hold like River Bend or Pars. But she's a teenager," he says, with a what can you do expression. A small wink for Devaki is given for his words of her seeing through him, the woman then rolling her eyes and sighing at word of sneaking. "Reputations're made 'n broken in heartbeats...such a sad state uv affairs." Is she toying with words, playing around? Hard to know, since the woman's moving on upon quiet feet back towards the door. It might look as if she's about to rudely leave when she suddenly yanks the thing open, but it's only to look about for a moment, then return her attention back inside after gently, firmly re-closing the door. Back towards that proffered chair she moves, settling it to face said door before her rear is applied to it. Listening to the man with an attentive, easy expression, the bluie finally leans back a little into her seat - nodding at word of Hrae's clutch being off-limits - then smiling a little at word of this relative being a handful. Sounds familiar. After a little thought, "There was a *very* specific order given by the Weyrleaders to not touch anyone with a half-ounce uv Blood in 'em. Hold/Weyr relations're already rather strained, after all..." Cue a smirky little grin for the Lord, since he of all people would know. Still... "She'd have ta leave behind any hint uv being Blood, uv course...openly. There'd have ta be plausible deniability, no matter what." Because, after Turns of taking the heat for shit of her own making and NOT, the blonde's not going down for anybody, anymore. "She ever think uv' runnin' away from home, joinin' the Weyr after 'er family thumped on 'er too much?" There's a curiosity in Devaki's gaze as he tracks Alida's pacing towards the door, brows flickering upwards in surprise -- and a moment later, a grin. No one's hovering on the other side of the door, and he tries to mute his smile when she turns back, but it lingers in his gaze all the same. At her initial words, there's a frown -- obviously that news is new, though perhaps not particularly surprising -- before the frown fades to be replaced by a smile at her suggestion. "Oh, Nidra'd be happy to shake off her Blood. She'd never settle herself to be married off -- she reminds me of Kiami, that way," and there's something reminiscent and abruptly sad in his tone, before he shakes his head. "Nidra's family wouldn't--" but then he gets it, and his head tips. "If you think that's the best way--" though he's not exactly pleased with the story of her family, even if it is a story. After a long exhale: "I really appreciate this, Alida." Her own lips are touched by a ghostly hint of the smile which greets her within Devaki's eyes, but it soon fades. She has her reasons. Again, the woman's listening to her host, her head inclining slightly, brows lifting a little at his word of this perhaps sad tale of Kiami, if he wishes to share. "It'd *have* ta be that way, under these circumstances. Either that, or she waits fer Iesaryth's clutch and maybe fer non-Weyr Search restrictions ta' lift." Pause, think. "Or ya' could send 'er ta another area, let 'er take 'er chances at another Weyr." A rub of her brow, and then a soft inhale-exhale couplet are followed by the bluerider's low, "I hope this turns out ta be all fer her personal good... no political strings attached. She *sounds* like a decent sort...for what tiny bit I know uv 'er." Unspoken: there's some empathy for this might-be Guard girl. As for the 'plan': "How about this: she's from some small Trader family from the South, an' she escaped from a rough life...saved up just enough marks over the Turns ta' jump a shady ship ta' Tillek. She spent time after that travelin' on 'er own ta' the Weyr." "My sister," is all he says, of Alida's silent inquiry on the topic of Kiami. Devaki's tone suggests that more sharing on that subject is rather unlikely. Tugging a hand through his hair, Devaki acknowledges the blueriders works with a nod, albeit grudging. "A bad home life it is, then." As for political strings, her query makes him straighten, striding a few steps closer, before rocking back on his heels. "If it were my choice, I'd keep her as far from the Weyr as possible," with a undertone of heat that can't be anything but genuine. "The Weyr has rarely done well by my people. But regardless of my feelings, I respect hers." There's an agreeable nod for her plan, the Lord circling past the couch back towards the window. "Perhaps you can come by in a few days to pick up a message -- I can have her ready to go with you. Does that suit?" A deeper dip of the blonde's head is given in respect for that unspoken sad tale of the man's sister, then noting to him in subdued fashion, "Most people're not gonna dig too deeply inta' emotional trauma, is why I suggested that. She's gotta stick to 'er story, an' makin' it as general as possible'll divert enough inquiries." She hopes. She knew he'd likely take her words badly, and so the rider doesn't stir from her chair, though her eyes tighten just a little, a subtle thrum of readiness thrumming through her frame. Listening to Devaki with a poker face, the woman bobs her head yet again, then murmuring, "No disrespect was meant. I hope ya'd understand my...disgust with excess politics." Given so much of them ruled her life at Pars. As for respecting his cousin's feelings, "Good." Too many didn't respect *hers*. "I think I c'n do that. Have 'er dress the part well: kinda' ragged, somewhat dirty, little extras besides an old, serviceable knife, a few supplies, an' 'er wits." Think. "She can't keep up a change uv' accent at this point, so there's *that* ta' consider." Ponder. "Maybe 'er parents moved South from this area." Brow-scrunch. "Shit; I'm no miracle worker. She's gonna have ta keep a cooler head about 'er. Anyway, have 'er take off out uv the Hold, 'n walk the road inta cover. Make sure Haibroth 'n company - everybody - doesn't notice more than a dusty non-entity leavin'." She's looking at Devaki's form as he peers out the window. "We'll pick 'er up when she's a solid pair uv hours walk beyond the Hold. I c'n have my flit watch over 'er, keep me informed until we grab 'er. I'll set 'er down far enough outside the Weyr ta make it look legit that she climbed the road on 'er lonesome." At this point, she rises from the chair, slowly rolling her shoulders. "She's gonna have some hard hours ahead uv' 'er, so she'd better be ready." Still, if the girl's hardy enough, wants this bad enough, it'll be worth it. Leaning against the open door to the balcony, Devaki nods an acknowledgement of her comment about respect -- any disgruntlement certainly doesn't linger. "I'll make sure she's prepared and ready, and I'll work with her over the next few days to bed down her story." When she speaks of hard hours, the former exile gives her a look over his shoulder, one of wryness and certainty: "My people were thrown onto an island of rocks and left to starve, yet we survived. I think Nidra can manage a few hours of hard walking." It's pride speaking: belief in his family, in his people, and their capabilities. There's a moment of silence, in what seems to be acceptance of her plan, and then he says, abruptly, "Issedi doesn't like that I spend so much time in this office. She thinks I should use the fancy one across the hall. But I like that I can see the ocean from here. Sometimes -- your past just lingers with you no matter how hard you try to escape it. Sometimes, too... there are lessons to be learnt, even from the bad experiences we've endured." "Very good..." the once-and-always guard notes with subdued certainty to Devaki's first words, his previous nod met with a hint of her own. It's critical to make things very clear, even outside of combat, she's found. For the wryness from the Lord, Alida gives another ghost-smirk-grin, and a laconic, "So I figured. It's the next generation that'll get softer. It's almost inevitable... with *anyone*." Word of fancy offices and home have her too looking out through that window from where she stands, green gaze noting the rather mellow sea, given the fine day outside. "Yeah..." is noted in subdued tones that express complete understanding with the man's observation. "An' sometimes the bad shit lessons keep us alive...keep our feet grounded when the rest wants ta flitter off." Her words bring up some recent, unhappy thoughts, which she tries to banish with more concentration upon that distant, crashing sea. "I never paid any attention ta' it before," the bluie murmurs before turning away. "But the sea c'n bring some good things...not only storms." Low bootsteps tread across stone and perhaps rugs, the woman then stopping before the door, and noting over her shoulder, "Have a decent rest uv yer day. Hope ya don't mind if i grab somethin' from yer kitchen before I leave: I missed my late lunch." Her words of the sea draw forth a smile and something distinctly warmer in the former Islander's voice: "She can, indeed. Blessings and destruction both," a faint kind of chuckle escapes Devaki's throat. When he hears footsteps retreating, Devaki turns, framed by the light of the afternoon, obscuring his features a little. "When you want your favor returned, come and see me, Alida. So long as it doesn't hurt my people or my Hold, I'll fulfill it to the best of my abilities." A beat: "And thank you." "I will..." the woman murmurs. "Dunno when." Shrug. "As long as none uv' our people get hurt." Unspoken again: her folk are likely at the Weyr, now." "Yer welcome." There's no need, or perhaps even room for titles here and now, the personal mission dealt with with a personal touch. Honestly, it's how the woman prefers it. Soon enough, there's a click of that door, signaling the bluerider's closing of it behind her, her departure leaving the man to his thoughts, and the task ahead of him. |
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