Logs:A Council Of Sorts
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| RL Date: 26 January, 2013 |
| Who: Brieli, H'kon, Taikrin, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two Weyrwomen. Two Weyrleaders. One Weyr. Arguments are had, decisions are made, and Taikrin takes a moment to enjoy herself. |
| Where: Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 11, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: F'rint/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions |
| Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort -- meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest. Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever hidework requires particularly frequent attention. A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind. There's not much time for meetings on the evening post-flight; first Azaylia and Brieli have themselves closeted away in the council chambers, then both weyrwomen went to their weyrs and presumably to bed just after that. The next day, there's duties to be done in the morning and Iesaryth is off for a couple hours in the afternoon - and given Hraedhyth didn't raise the alarm or panic, it's safe to assume the other gold is aware of the trip. It's mid-afternoon when the ocean's breezes shift towards the other gold, the two browns, polite inquiry. Are their riders free? Hers is in the council room. Which Brieli is, in fact, when the others arrive - with a bright scarf knotted about her neck (must be a new thing), and sitting in the big chair at the end of the table like she's been there her whole life. It does look good on her, but... H'kon and Arekoth have been checked out by dragonhealers, drilled with the wing (« I'm totally fine, ») and are, indeed, free - or are so made so by H'kon's insistence - when Iesaryth calls them. Arekoth is all too happy to move in toward that gold once his rider has dismounted; H'kon enters the council chamber promptly, giving Brieli a scowly-eyed nod, and hesitating at the table. He sits himself, only grudgingly, to Brieli's right. Taikrin gets a similar nod. And similarly no words. At some point in the last day, Taikrin's managed to get herself finally back to her weyr and clean herself up. Her hair is freshly cropped, and her leathers are either new or immaculately well-kept. Either way, it's a more dragonrider-formal than the brownrider usually sports. Her pace is slow, her manner casual as she pushes into the council chamber from the records room, but her hair has that tousled look like she's been running her hands through it, and there's a flush in her cheeks. "Evening, Brieli. H'kon." No matter who has flown who, despite decisions reached between weyrwomen and Hraedhyth's confident thumping over the weyr: hidework waits for no woman. An excuse, many claim, for the one goldrider that stays behind that morning. Hraedhyth is the only confirmation that Azaylia is still here, scarce as she has been. The warrior gold pulls her attention away from the Weyr, from Szadath, to answer her sister just as Azaylia is rushing into the council chambers. The rest of the weyrfolk might not have seen much of her, but here she is in all her fidgeting glory. There's a hesitant pause for where Brieli is seated, no mention of it as she walks forward to stand near the corner of that big chair. Crossing long legs, Brieli just eyes H'kon in return, dark gaze flinty as he sits. There's a long, silent moment before she turns to Taikrin and tells her, "I don't even know why he's here. He's not interested in anything but letting the other Weyrs make our decisions for us. And we all know how well that's worked out so far." Apparently, there's no sense in pleasantries, in waiting around to discuss matters. "We," she flickers a look up to Azaylia, seeming reassured for her position. "Will not go to council. There's an attempt to destabilize the weyrwomen, and it's happening throughout the Weyrs. We won't allow it." Ocean's waves lap on the beach, soft murmur of the tide soothing and quiet. Iesaryth is happy; she has company now, her rider is less worried, her connection with the Fortian bronze Hraedhyth so dislikes is not severed entirely. She reaches out for hers now, tentative - is the other queen's well? So quiet. « It will be all right. We will be fine. » One day, one of them will rise first. But for now, can they not do as they have done? (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) To Iesaryth, Hraedhyths fire rushes not to claim her, but to welcome the gold back into their shared territories. The gold is well. Her rider? A growl slips through steady drums, « She fears. She is... many. » Whatever that means, the queen risks confusion should she try to delve beyond what is on the surface. Nobody wants that, not when she's mostly calm. « I know. » It is their duty, just as it has always been, to take care of their Weyr. Nothing has changed, no matter what everyone seems to think. Even with those bags under his eyes and a general sag to his features - yet another night of not sleeping particularly well - H'kon manages to give a sharp look to Brieli. "A goldrider who would have thrown the leadership to a Fortian is certainly the one to be wary of the influence of other Weyrs." Green eyes move to Taikrin, with whom he's already spoken. On the ledge, Arekoth surely makes a boast of how he could have beaten out ten, twenty bronzes. "Having the Weyr in a limbo did it little favours prior to these flights. Strange, you should want to keep it so." And he's looking back to Brieli by the end. Azaylia only gets a faintly questioning glance thereafter. To Hraedhyth, Iesaryth shares the sunny weather at Fort, the high narrow ledge there to watch the cliffs and sky from. As for the fear; « They will protect each other. We will. » As always. She sends reassurance for the other gold's rider from hers - strength. It will be fine. Something in Taikrin's carefully construct mask of casualness relaxes at Brieli's pronunciation, into very palpable relief. "He'd mentioned that to me, earlier. About letting the Council make all of our decisions. Can't say as I agree, after what they did to Tiriana and didn't do to I'kris." She settles more easily into her chair one down from Brieli's left and looks from Azaylia to Brieli; she's steadfastly not looking at H'kon. "My interest here's in protecting the Weyrwomen-- this ain't news to either one of you, yeah? What's done is done. Reckon Iesaryth would've had more chasers if Hraedhyth hadn't gone up here, but it is what it is. The wings'll fall in line with a strong show of leadership if we're quick, so how do you want to play this?" Azaylia has an openly curious look for Taikrin and her leathers. The expression noticably shifts when landing on H'kon, fear sparking a stare that schools the rest of her emotions. Belatedly, "Evening." For those in the room. Standing near Brieli's right grows uncomfortable with Arekoth's rider sitting there, stiff steps taking her to the other weyrwoman's left. On the way, Brieli and H'kon's mention of council has her gripping the chair for support. "No." It's an intense whisper, quickly followed by a swallow as she looks down at the table. "I'm not being- No. No council." She doesn't mean to look half-hidden behind Brieli's chair, but there it is with both riders sitting at the sides. "What happened, happened." Very astute. "The Weyr has handled worse..." Worse than? "Taikrin, if you have any interest in the Wings..." Ah. Worse than that. To Iesaryth, Hraedhyth is a direct tether to her rider's emotions. « Council. » Snarling that dreaded word, the one that has her flames fanning in protective waves. « We are our own council. » One of queens. The reasssurance is shared, is received, but is it felt? The pounding beat doesn't falter, but it does soften as the warrior shares in a crackling whisper, « She hurts. » Not from battle, not in her body. Without even looking back at the brownrider she's ignoring, "That's not what happened. He'd been coming by to check in on me, as I was sick, or thought I was. No one else bothered." Brieli pauses, her hard expression softening a touch as she tells Taikrin, "Though I know Szadath was keeping tabs on her. Hraedhyth too. I think that's how it happened the way it did." More generally, though she does seem to be addressing H'kon's point, "Allowing others to make our decisions won't provide certainty, it'll just make us look weak. The only thing that will help is a proper Senior flight. And we... didn't manage that." She glances back to Azaylia again, half-hidden as she is, and offers a slender hand. It's okay! Really! "She's right, we've handled worse, and we've run the Weyr well since Iolene passed. We can continue to do so. And if H'kon..." Now she looks at him, derisive. "Doesn't want the wings... well. As Azaylia said..." A council of queens. Iesaryth likes this. Perhaps they should speak to the others Iesaryth sends her water flowing out to, speak to them about protecting their riders, each other. « I do not understand asking others to decide our fates. » She is intelligent enough to weigh these things, to consider options. And she is sympathetic to the fiery queen; she knows what that is like. « Can we help? » She would not pry, but... (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) H'kon's distrust is not so well hidden when he looks back to Brieli. The frustration that borders on anger, either. "How strange, to then have been caught so by surprise. Perhaps it was because you were so ill." He manages a more schooled expression as he makes a clear visual inspection of that goldrider now. Another look to Azaylia, and then, a hard look to Taikrin. And H'kon shakes his head. "I will not leave the wings to Taikrin," is quiet, but at least strong enough. And maybe a bit fatalistic. H'kon has got to gripping the edge of the table, somewhere in all this. The female brownrider is given a significant look, not a look of confrontation. We need to talk. "I will not see my Weyr destroyed by more uncertainty and faction than already it had after Iolene's death." Dispassionate. To Iesaryth, Hraedhyth approves of the thought as well. Is that not what makes a Weyr? A bronze or brown, as she burns with pride for her mate (has Iesaryth seen his battle scars? Those are for her), while pleasant is not necessary. Males do not take care of the weyr, do not lay eggs and protect it/them. That is their duty, as Queens. « No. » It's the truth, blunt as her next words, « She fears betrayal. » From who? Hraedhyth is no Iesaryth when it comes to keeping secrets, but even she does not completely divulge her rider's thoughts. Though Taikrin doesn't do more than twitch a smile at first Azaylia then Brieli, Szadath not only wraps himself tighter around Hraedhyth but also begins to purr his self-satisfaction. "I'll do it, and happy to. Been a while, but I was trained for it. For leadership." When she finally brings herself to looking at H'kon, her body stiffens but her smile widens toothily. "What are you going to do about it? Szadath's a proven sire already, as good as any bronze-- Hraedhyth ain't his first gold. You gonna back us and help us put this Weyr back together, or are you gonna go running off to the Council so they can try to come in and kill more of our goldriders? Only person I see in this room into destroying and chaos is you." Azaylia stares at Brieli's hand at first, as if she doesn't know what to do with it. Before it's too awkward, she slides hers into the offered palm and takes a squeeze for strength. Another, for H'kon's accusation that has the older goldrider giving him more of that stare. "He's her..." With something more protective, "He's hers. Do you think Vhaeryth was going to miss Iesaryth's flight? Hraedhyth could sense it." Yes, because it's the dragons fault. H'kon's determination has her giving a startled glance down to Brieli, clearly taken by surprise. That doesn't sound like disinterest. Taikrin's words are also far from soothing, hand slipping free so that she can cross her arms, eyes closed. "Either we work together, or we don't work at all." Bold words, though they tremble when spoken. "Brieli and I don't need either of you." It hurts to say, and she doesn't try to hide that fact. Brieli is not so patient with H'kon at this point either. Sharply, "You've been happy enough to ask me to get things done since Iolene's death and K'del's abandoning the Weyr. I make one mistake, and I'm suspect? You. Don't. Get. To. Decide. You step up or you get out of the way. And we both know what you decided to do." Turning to the ladies, confidentially, "I think he's just still mad because his dragon caught, but he... didn't." Wince. So sad. Something has her frowning Azaylia's way, suddenly concerned - and though she's listening to Taikrin, her attention is on the other goldrider, squeezing her hand in return, watching. With a faint smile for hers, the determination gets a blink... but that last, oh. That gets a brilliant smile. Doesn't hurt her at all. Bronzes and browns come and go, though Iesaryth quite likes Arekoth; he's clever enough to entertain on her ledge and spend time with, though neither rider seems to enjoy it all that much. She's not quite as proud as Hraedhyth, but there's a sparkle to her waves - she's pleased. Things are well. But it is their duty and no one else's. As for betrayal, « As does mine. » There's a pearl from the depths, though - one of her rare secrets: her rider trusts Hraedhyth's as she does Vhaeryth's only. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) H'kon is too tired for this. Taikrin gets a sharp jabbing point of his index finger through the air. "You do not represent the right way simply because you say so." Words fast, pointed, but not yelled. "I am tired of your rhetoric, and your refusal to acknowledge the discontent that has already come from Szadath's win. You must not turn a blind eye to this if it is truly the Weyr you care for." Brieli, next. Same finger. "If you were not suspect, perhaps you would have been more forthcoming with your mistake." And to Azaylia, because she's left, because he doesn't want to smack her, because she brought him soup. "The Weyr will always need some type of Weyrleader. If we cannot resolve this, then it must be two, at least for the time." And, finally, sitting back and taking a breath, "At any rate some sort of announcement ought to be made promptly." Maybe he's tired of his own rhetoric, too. "Neither do you!" Taikrin shoots back at H'kon, coming partially out of her chair as she does so. "You ain't got the monopoly on the pulse of the Weyr. This ain't the first or second brown win we've ever had." She turns to Azaylia and Brieli, and insists, rapid-fire and flushed, "You don't need us, but a strong rider in charge of the fighting wings can make life a flaming lot easier for all of us. You both have plenty on your hands. Put us in charge of them, give Szadath the backing of the queens, and we'll bring the bronzes in line. They're the ones causing the grumbling. Put the bronzes back in their plce, the rest of the Weyr will fall into place behind you. I can do this for you." If talk of one brown grows tiring, Hraedhyth is all too eager to give her thoughts on Arekoth. « You did well. » Honesty carried in those rhythmic strikes, « He is clever. Strong. » Perhaps not as strong as her mate, but « Your pups will be strong. » The queen has an eye for treasures, coveting the truth of that pearl if not the actual sphere. « In this, they are together. » Both fear as well as tense happenings within their Weyr. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) There's no reason to watch her, the way Azaylia's face tenses and twists, brows furrowed and lips thinning. Eyes shift beneath their lids, squeezed shut against Brieli's words even if the sharp tone isn't directed at her. H'kon's revealed misfortune, despite winning the flight, has her suddenly looking over with wide, wet eyes. He has her attention, when he decides to point fingers. Taikrin snatches it back, listening with eyes that don't mean to get even wider at the older woman's passionate demands. "All I want..." Spoken so quietly, compared to the raised voices, "Is peace for my home. For our Weyr. And I don't think there's anything that can bring that." A glance for H'kon, for his talk of outside influence. "If you both had the Wings' best interest in mind, maybe that might help. If you could stop arguing." She looks to Brieli, uncertain. A little lost. "I want to do what's best for the Weyr." Unfortunately, nobody seems to know what that is. Including her. Quietly, in response to the brownrider's accusation, but more to the women - well, the other queenrider, let's be honest - Brieli admits, "I didn't want him to get into any trouble. He has enough issues with his Weyrleader." Looking every inch the contrite young woman in love. Who could blame her? Besides, the Fortian didn't catch anyway. Does it really matter? And despite her taking the big chair, despite her need to control this meeting, she first shifts her attention to Azaylia after Taikrin's plea. Is it the 'I' or the 'We'? Something has her looking to her counterpart for cues, this time. And she listens. There's a shift to her expression, to her posture as she does, and her jaw sets briefly. But. "We can't do what's best for the Weyr, we do what we can. As before. Azaylia and I will continue as we have. Hraedhyth and Iesaryth already are, so..." Might as well. "If you can share the wings, then so be it. We'll have to deal with K'del - the irony is ridiculous - and I'm given to understand that this might not cause rebellion if we give the weyrfolk a sense of a voice in things. But that can come..." A sigh. "Later." "I do not relinquish my claim." Eyes on Taikrin, this comes nice and quiet, now H'kon's had (what is becoming his daily) blow-up. A look to Azaylia, this one more pensive, for being called to task on arguing. It could be what keeps him from returning to gnaw on that same old bone. Brieli, he ignores almost entirely now, but for a nod. "Two weyrleaders, then." It's on the second word he thinks to raise his voice, make it sound, perhaps, more commanding. Certainly more official. "Two weyrwoman as well," is more of a musing. And he falls to looking at his fingers grasping the edge of the table, brow furrowed. « It would be nice to see each other fly. I flew fast and far. » Iesaryth didn't start any fights or anything, but it's not really in her nature. She just likes to prove how awesome she is. There's faint edges of irritation to the memory, from her rider for some reason, but she enjoyed the chase, that it was a chase. As for the rest, « They need to spend less time worrying. » She images black sand beaches and a lively bar, sunlight on water. Before they cannot leave home, they will go. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) It's not what Taikrin wants to hear. She sits back into her chair, breathing a little hard, and searches Azaylia's face. "I do have their interests at heart, because I have yours. " She includes Brieli in her gaze, then, amending, "Both of you. I always have. You got to know that." Doing her best to salvage the situation, she attempts to modulate herself into reasonableness. She mostly just looks a little constipated. "Share the wings. We can do that." For now. She's not looking at H'kon again. "As the Weyrwomen command." Azaylia looks to Brieli, perhaps with some apology for whatever she feels she's done wrong this meeting. "I know." They, she, can't do anything right at the moment. It's maddening. Two Weyrleaders. No, not right at all, judging from how sick the standing goldrider looks right now. Even more ill when K'del's name is brought up. At Taikrin's insistence, Azaylia finds her eyes and gives a slow nod, "I know you mean that." But is it true? She's not doubting the brownrider, tone gentle if only because of how weak it is, "I- We know." Another glance for Brieli. We, not I. Together. "You two will share the wings. Starting with the ones you're in now. I... I think it might be best if you checked with one of us, before making any big decisions." With a gentle sigh, resigned, "We want to make this as easy for the weyrfolk as possible." It's certainly her attempt, at least. Rolling her eyes, Brieli adjusts her scarf and collar as H'kon speaks. "If we must. And there have been two weyrwomen for months, have you not been paying attention?" She has to shoot a look of disbelief Azaylia's way like, has everyone totally lost their minds? For Taikrin, she only has a little shrug of apology; the purse of her lips and subtle flicker of fingers towards the standing goldrider is the best explanation she can give. Though the amendment might bring a slight smirk, "I know." Can't fake guarding with your life. "We do." Azaylia's addition has her nodding, and she slides from her chair and to her feet to end things - maybe partially due to someone looking so sick. "It would be best," she agrees firmly. "We'll discuss the rest later. But those bronzes... sooner than later. We can't have it." Flying is all well and good but, « I did battle, so high in the sky. » And Szadath, ferocious warrior that he is, fought by her side. Yes, the more the night slips away from draconic memory, the more romanticized the night seems to become. It is the one thing she is soft in, these days. « Agreed. » Contralto is peppered with a growl, one of annoyance. Black sand brings with it a spark of aggitation from her rider, but it's banished and forgotten. « There will be eggs. » Drums roll with, not excitement, but pride. Their riders should drink before either becomes tied down by duty to the sands. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) H'kon, too, gets to his feet, looking almost relieved, which coincides with 'more tired' as his features start to try at relaxation. "K'del and I were wingmates for some time," is an offer. "And I believe we might talk more sympathetically, more productively." He lets that stand on its own, offer or claiming, ambiguous, and busies himself with tugging down his shirt, and rolling his shoulders back and straight. And then, for a moment, looks only faintly nauseous. Since the others are standing, Taikrin joins them with just a hint of reluctance. Her gaze meets Brieli's. Her eyebrows twitch, something vaguely thoughtful passing over her features: understanding? "I'll talk to F'rint. Glacier. They know us, know Azaylia. They'll back us." This, at least, is something she can cling to in confidence. Surely her own wing will be behind her? "And you'll tell us, if you need anything. The Weyrleader serves at the Weyrwoman's pleasure." It sounds like a quote, and she's got a grin like she's quoting something, but there's something in the way she's looking at Brieli that makes it... else. Bright fabric catches Azaylia's eye, glaze flicking to Brieli's neck, away, and then back again. She doesn't flush, exactly, but some of that bronze hue returns awfully fast while stepping away and giving her fellow Weyrwoman room to stand. "No!" A sharp whimper for what H'kon is suggesting. Deep embarrassment has her looking away, "I mean. Okay. Yes. I want to talk to him, too..." But there's no reason the brownrider and bronzerider can't have a discussion. Or if there is, she's not going to say. "Glacier." She murmurs with a nod, only somewhat as confident as Taikrin in this. The quote has her making an attempt to smile, small though successful, "Thank you." To the female brownrider, the male earning a quick glance before she's already fleeing the room with purposeful, long strides. Anything that her 'weyrleader' and apparently, hated enemy, volunteers to do seems to be suspect to Brieli; she narrows dark eyes at H'kon, folding her arms and staring as if that might help her figure out what he's trying to do. "Maybe," she says, vague for ambiguous. Taikrin gets a nod and a flash of a grin; she's got the message, even though she just says lightly, "That's what they all say." Azaylia's whimper has her blink, looking over the other goldrider's way, startled - and as the woman flees the room, she shrugs to the others and shakes her head, and starts off into the records room. "Do let me know if you need something." That sarcasm is for H'kon, probably. H'kon just looks at Brieli. He's still ignoring Taikrin, and does his best not to be taken aback by Azaylia's quick departure. And then, he, too, is turning and heading for the ledge, and the waiting Arekoth. Whatever they have to do must be urgent; the brown doesn't even dally with Iesaryth too long. "So they say," Taikrin offers back to Brieli with a hint of her usual crooked grin. Though she looks after where Azaylia has fled, she doesn't immediately follow-- though Szadath is sure to offer his solid bulk as reassurance. Instead, once she's sure she's alone, Taikrin takes the moment to slowly, reverently lower herself into the Weyrleader's chair. In the days after the two goldflights, there's obviously a lot of talk, and rumors of talks - discussions between the two weyrwomen, the two 'weyrleaders', various groupings of riders and weyrfolk that are upset, disturbed, consternated or bemused by the situation High Reaches have found themselves in. It's not till two days later, on the afternoon of day 20 of month 11, that the principals all meet up in the Council Chambers. They spend about an hour in the room, and each are seen to leave differently and all /alive/ most importantly; Azaylia looks sick, H'kon tired, Taikrin and Brieli more or less as usual. Official word is that little has changed in terms of how things are run. Azaylia and Brieli will continue to share their duties with both queens seemingly willing to share the Weyr, despite their flights. With B'sil no longer even Acting Weyrleader, the Weyrwomen have appointed Taikrin and H'kon the duty of 'evaluating the status of the wings'. Unofficially, it's rumored that the goldriders both flat our refused to consult the Weyr Council on the matter, and that Brieli was accused of some sort of attempt to 'fix' Iesaryth's flight. So does that mean there's two Weyrleaders? Still Acting Weyrwomen? And what about those who are as likely to resist being 'evaluated' by brownriders as led by brownriders? If one were to look to either goldrider, they would find both determined in acting as if nothing is wrong as they go about their duties. Is it a ploy? Denial on their part? Apathy? True, the Weyr might not be falling down around them, but nothing is as settled as everyone might like. |
Comments
K'del (K'del) left a comment on Sat, 26 Jan 2013 20:55:40 GMT.
< 'Deal with me.'
Deal with me, my arse. I'll deal with you. So there.
Jo (Jolie) left a comment on Sat, 26 Jan 2013 21:06:18 GMT.
<
Love this scene. The tension! All these different personalities colliding...
Leova (Varied) left a comment on Sat, 26 Jan 2013 21:40:54 GMT.
< Taikrin sits in the Big Chair. <3
I vote that Taikrin and H'kon move into the WL's weyr together. With a dorm fridge and beer. Roomies!
Zian (Zian) left a comment on Sun, 27 Jan 2013 02:59:46 GMT.
<
<3 H'kon
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