Logs:In It Together
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 25 January, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Brieli |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The day after both queen have risen, the Weyrwomen of High Reaches have a lot to talk about. Some solutions come easier than others. |
| Where: Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 11, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Tiriana/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. After a morning full of Iesaryth's inquisitive touch, Hraedhyth has more to offer than too-warm comments regarding her Szadath. The afterglow's flames have finally dimmed, blunt drums carried on over to the next ledge, « Now she is ready. » A flash of the council chambers, an room both queens and their riders are far too familiar with by now. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) It's not quite 'done-yet-done-yet-done-yet' but Iesaryth is the more business-minded of the two queens, and certainly her rider is influencing her - if Hraedhyth has managed to tear herself away from her Szadath, she might have noticed Iesaryth come home alone in the late evening of the night before, only with company in the early morning. Weird. But the younger gold's waters are calm and clear, sunlight shining on the waves; she's content. « She will be there. » Yes, her rider is familiar with the council chambers. It's a good thing Iesaryth isn't about sharing, but she's amused. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Even now, despite Hraedhyth's returning to her senses, she won't release Szadath from her clutches unless absolutely necessary. Iesaryth is content? Wonderful! Even as the weyr quivers with discontent beneath their joined influences, the warrior queen deems this day a good one. Azaylia is already there by the time Brieli arrives, completely lost in her own thoughts. She's pacing in no particular pattern, carried in circles by the anxious speed in her legs. Azaylia's lips are rapidly moving, not entirely silent as Brieli might catch her own name and other snippets that are paired with firm gestures from her wringing hands. Even now, the Weyr still is unsettled and undecided, which is the issue - whatever clicks into place once a senior is decided still has not, nor is there a bronze to help swing that pendulum. Not that some people didn't try like hell, though. Brieli might be thinking of just that when she strides into the council room, looking as if she's been up and about for hours, clipboard under her arm. She's even more perfectly put-together than usual, and is a calm, marked contrast to the pacing, hand-wringing Azaylia. There's a pause and a long look at the head chair before, "Stop worrying. Things are exactly the same as they were yesterday. We're still running everything, just like before." Because what good was B'sil, really? Her tone is somewhere between sharp and comforting, both shove to the shoulder and pat on the back. It's the shove that brings Azaylia back, taking a moment to actually hear Brieli's words. "N-no." A weak murmur, "I have something to say." The same something she's been mustering up the courage to manage while hiding behind paperwork. "Brieli." Firm for her gentle voice, hands make that same pointed motion. "You were right." When? What feels like ages ago. "I wasn't able to control my queen, and that's why dragons got hurt. People got hurt. I know this is all my fault but I want you to know that I'm not going to just sit and cry about it. Szadath caught Hraedhyth. Taikrin is... she's set on being Weyrleader." These are the facts. She can deal with them, really. "I'm not going to let you or the Weyr down again." Even if she looks awfully pale by the end of her practiced words. Brieli was right? Brieli is always right. That doesn't surprise her, but the reasons for being right apparently do; fine brows arch, and she might even color a little in memory of that discussion. It's no fun kicking a puppy till it bites back... then cries. Setting down her clipboard slowly, frowning at it, "Azaylia... neither queen was caught by a bronze, so I think we both may bear some responsibility there. And I know you don't have the easier of dragons to control. But. I'm glad it wasn't worse. Maybe... you had to see it. Don't kill yourself over it. Just learn from it and move on." But she's decided it's a good time for a drink - if it's after noon, usually it's a good time for Bri. "H'kon doesn't want to do anything but go to Council, so at least Taikrin has some ambition. I told him we won't go to council, Azaylia. I won't have us... I won't let us be leashed because someone who won a flight thinks they know better." She won't - it's intense, determined. Fuck that guy. Azaylia could go for a drink, something to put tension back into those trembling legs. She gives a nod at Brieli's words, swallowing once and taking her chances with a few steps towards the table. Once there, she can splay her fingers on the supportive wood, "I just wanted to make it clear that we're both in this." That the other goldrider knows that. "It wouldn't have been so bad if R'hin-- H'kon wants to what?" Sulky mutter is interrupted by a whisper that quickly turns horrified. Correction, terrified. "We won't." Hraedhyth's bliss threatens to blossom into something far more nasty at that spike of fear. For now, it's just that: a threat. It might inspire some subtltey in those with dissenting opinions. "I can't believe he'd do that." She really can't, voice weak. It recovers with a much more quiet intensity, "I'm not-- we're not Tiriana. We'll take care of the weyr, just like we have been." When Brieli returns to the table, it's with two glasses with generous portions of straight liquor. Neither of them are much for wine, and there's nothing to make things all fruity for Azaylia - but it's not really a time for anything but neat booze. Setting the other goldrider's glass beside her rather than handing it to her - the trembling - "We're in it together. We have to be. Otherwise it's all about them, and why should it be? Besides - weyrwomen murdered, assaulted, eggs stolen... who can we really trust but one another now?" There's a sip from her glass as dark eyes widen a touch at the Monacoan bronzerider's name, but there's really no time for that. She can likely figure it out. Reluctantly, "I don't think he intends to do it to move against us, only because he completely lacks imagination." So disappointing. "We won't. Not again. I don't care what's happening. I don't want anyone to have that kind of power. And I know it upsets Hraedhyth." Indeed, Iesaryth is already soothing the other queen. Not to worry. They have plans. Brieli is so kind to remind Hraedhyth that, strong as she and her mate are, their not-even-formed eggs could be in danger. But Iesaryth! But..! Tension crackling within those flames, her otherwise casual influence on the Weyr weighs slightly heavy. She is here. Iesaryth has returned to them and all is well. GOT IT!? Azaylia closes her eyes and delicately touches her temple, rubbing away her dragon's temper with the help of the younger gold. "We're different." It's more of a plea than a statement, "We have to be. None of that can happen." For their sake, for everyone's. Azaylia takes a gulp of the strong stuff, fully body convulsion short enough for her to continue, "H'kon can't go to the Council on his own." She's not about to back him up, so, "It'll be like before the flights. But..." Another gulp, wheezing, "What about Taikrin? She wants to be the Weyrleader." Iesaryth is all calm blue ocean... she actually is that, eternal breaking waves, their roar now muted and soothing. She'll extend it over the Weyr in Hraedhyth's momentary panic. Yes, she's here. Everything is fine. Eggs are just a thought right now. Chill out. Going to be fun times, these clutches. With another sip of her drink, Brieli notes grimly, "We can't give them any reasons to let it happen. We have to maintain control, not let it get into anyone else's hands." Instead of taking a chair, she slides up onto the table, long legs dangling, leaning on her free hand. Tilting her head, dark curls spilling to one side, she asks, "Does she want to be the Weyrleader, or does she think she's the Weyrleader?" There's a difference, in her mind. Glass tilted to keep a continuous stream of burning sliding down her throat, Azaylia points with a free hand at Brieli's question: the second one! A cough to confirm, "She says she is. That Hraedhyth is older, rose first, had her flight actually over 'Reaches..." The whole list of 'reasons' comes out in a single, hushed breath. "I told her it didn't matter if Iesaryth was somewhere else. They happened at the same time." A very bright, sunshiny detail that is almost overlooked . Brown eyes are curious when they look to her friend, lip worried by teeth until she blurts, "Did you mean to take H'kon?" From the Weyr, of course. She tries again, "Did you... You knew about Iesaryth?" The gold who is soothing Hraedhyth's sudden burn, tawny dragon reluctantly returning to a more settled state. As if she'd anticipated that argument - interesting, but Brieli's always so quick and prepared, isn't she? - "If that's true, K'del and Iolene were never Weyrleaders. Both queens at the Weyr were older. That means our Weyrleaders were I'kris and Lujayn. Shall I point that out to her?" She glances to Azaylia sidelong, arching fine brows innocently. But she takes a bigger slug of her drink for that, nearly done, and sets it aside for now. Thoughtfully, "They did happen at the same time. But..." Her expression is calculating, dark eyes narrowed - she has an idea - but the other goldrider's question distraction surprises her so much that she reacts genuinely; she gives Azaylia an 'are you insane' look, exclaiming, "No! Faranth - no." There's a shudder, which is a little odd too, before she shakes her head. "I just thought Hraedhyth would be soon, and I wasn't feeling right... I wanted some time. It wasn't meant to happen that way. I think..." Her gaze shifts over to the other goldrider again, perhaps anxiously. "I think because she and Hraedhyth were talking, and I was asleep again, and N'rov and Vhaeryth were making sure I was okay..." A pause, then defensively, "No one else had." Mention of Iolene and I'kris has that glass finally drained, hovering above lips until the last harsh drop is past them. "I wouldn't." Which means Brieli would, and might. Azaylia gives the other weyrwoman's denial a gentle nod, tired expression not revealing much except that she's thinking. Just making sure. "No, you're right. Even if one might have upset the other into rising, it was good that you weren't here." Has she seen the dragon infirmary, lately? Mention of N'rov, of his dragon have her giving Brieli a look that isn't anything without the faint turn of her head. Inquisitive? Polite suspicion? It's tossed aside as she speaks up, voice somewhat scratchy from the liquor, "I would have! We did. I mean, Hraedhyth did, and we were stuck here once she started to glow..." She reaches out to give Brieli's hand a soft pat. Yeah, Brieli is going to pick up her glass again, finish the last of it. "Just noting that all of this isn't as clearcut as it might seem. Or we might want it to be. And I think it was good I wasn't. I mean, I think we could have left, like with Rielsath, but... I don't know. We'll have to keep a closer eye - hopefully they rise in different times." Next time. The glance from Azaylia doesn't find the goldrider particularly anxious or sketchy, but she does give a faintly apologetic shrug. Would Vhaeryth miss Iesaryth's flight? Unlikely. Reassuringly, "I know she - you did. I just meant... everyone else was busy watching you." She doesn't sound bitter, just blunt. "We'll know what to look for." Next time. Azaylia is not be overly suspicious of her friend where others might be, pulling her hand back with a gentle sigh. "I'm sorry Vhaeryth didn't win." Even if it could have made things messier, even if he is foreign. Though that fact has never bothered her as much as it does Hraedhyth. As for being watched, her brows pinch together as eyes close to recall, "I gave them enough of a reason. I'm surprised I didn't have a line of riders leading up to my weyr." Realizing what she has said, "Before the flight, I mean." With an hoist that's a little clumsy, she joins her friend on the table with no fear of long skirt hiking up. The leggings have returned! "Taikrin." She reminds. "We could tell her no, but I'm afraid... We want to keep things together." Like Brieli said. Messier, or not. At least Vhaeryth is bronze. That thought seems to be on Brieli's mind as she glances down the table, at the big chair. "I would have liked that," she admits, though it's no real admission. "She wanted that. They're... Well. I think he'll catch her, some day." There's a silence as she looks down at her glass, now empty, before she adds quietly, wistfully, "He would have been here, every morning." And that's enough what-might-have-been for her. Time for a refill, back to business. As she slides down to get the bottle, quirking a smile, "It's not as if you could help it. And Taikrin. Well. If H'kon wants to give up and ask someone else to decide his fate, why not give the wings to someone who wants to step up? At least there's a choice, isn't there?" Shaking her head, she comes back to top off the glasses. Azaylia remains quiet, mindful of what her friend is admitting. Not that any of it comes as much of a surprise. "He will." If she can promise such things, she is now. "That would have been nice." A gentle agreement to go with the rare, wistful side Brieli's sharing. The question, it might be rhetorical, gets an answer, "Because the wings probably won't listen to her?" All too thoughtful, "...maybe Glacier." Thinking about it makes her head spin. Or it could be the empty glass next to her, the one she pushes forward once Brieli's grabbed the bottle. "If women were never meant to be Weyrleader, why let browns chase? They catch juniors..." She isn't even going to utter the opinion that even male brownriders can't run a Weyr. She falls back atop the table, legs hanging off at the knees, "I thought the dragons knew best?" Hands go to her eyes, pressing as if to slow her racing thoughts. "Some day." That seems to have a few levels of meaning to it, as Brieli pours out somewhat less stiff drinks than last time. Bottle set aside carefully, glass raised to tilt Azaylia's way in silent toast to that thought, she asks, "Can't we make them?" Maybe not Brieli and Azaylia themselves, but you know. The queens they're attached to, which are good for somewhat more than just flying to mate and laying eggs. "We made the ledge-sitters go back to work. We can do the same thing. The irony, if K'del refuses to fly under her..." She has to laugh before taking a drink, hopping back up on the table again to cross her legs. "Perhaps no browns should have been chasing. But too late now. And Azaylia, haven't you learned?" With a sideways smirk, "The dragons only know best when it's convenient for them to do so. The rest of the time, the men decide things. Like they're trying to do now." This time, Azaylia's silence has nothing pleasant to it. The air about her is tainted by fear, a sentiment that has Hraedhyth's drums speeding up. She keeps on her back, ignoring her refilled glass to whisper, "Iolene was killed just for talking." A swallow, "If we did that, we'd be... doing." The sound of her name has palms lifting, expression somewhat lost as her gaze settles on Brieli. "That's not..." Does it need to be said? Fair. "If a dragon catches a queen, he catches a queen. It doesn't matter between brown and bronze. It shouldn't." Traditional views that border on the fanatic, depending on who you ask. Now she sits up, bringing her glass closer and holding it. Just in case she needs a sip. Brieli just stares at Azaylia for a long moment before taking a drink, putting a hand to her head, dark curls falling in front of her face, obscuring her pained expression. "Azaylia." Patient. "You need to decide whether you care about fair, or tradition, or the difference between talking and doing. You just had about three different opinions in less than a minute." Swinging her legs as she considers, "Life isn't fair. But fair, in your opinion, is the dragon that catches a queen leads the wings. So. We'd be doing what was fair, yes? But most will disagree. Tradition is the bronze dragon that catches leads the wings. We don't have that. And as you said, why should we have to? But that is what the Council will likely want." A pause. "Iolene was killed for a lot of reasons. She didn't talk to people about what they wanted, but that was only part of it. We can't be forever afraid to act because of it." Azaylia slugs back that drink all too suddenly, rarely used strength making that glass slam heavily back onto the table. "I know." Liquor burns her voice into a low growl that's whisked away on another breath. "I know. I just keep thinking. About Taikrin. About the Weyr. I don't want to hurt anyone." Her voice trembles along with her lip, the rest of her staying remarkably still as she closes her eyes. An exhale carries final words, "Taikrin can take charge of the wings. It'll keep her..." Happy? Busy? "We can handle the rest of the Weyr. H'kon. This doesn't have to get... we can make it okay. Things just need to calm down." Her eyes are misty when they open and finally look over at Brieli. Not lost, just miserable. Hraedhyth rumbles, confident enough for both she and her rider, « Queens protect the Weyr. » "You won't hurt anyone. There's been flights like that before. And the other riders didn't help, from what I hear. Just-- try not to worry too much. Doubt will eat at you." Brieli looks down into her glass before shifting her attention Azaylia's way, with a flicker of surprise... then she's pleased. "That's what I was thinking. Someone has to anyway. We... we can make it clear it's not forever. Maybe we'll even say we fucked it up. Sometimes people like that. As much as I'd hate it." Wrinkling her nose, she's moved enough by the other goldrider's misery to lean over and pat her hand, squeeze it. It's not a hug, but a warm gesture for the reserved young woman. "Azaylia. It is okay. No one died. There'll be eggs. We kept it together after Io died. This is nothing." Tentatively, "Maybe you need some sleep?" Iesaryth shares Hraedhyth's confidence, with the whisper of ocean's breeze. « They will be fine. There are always ideas. We can always do something. » With a hard swallow, "Feelings. Trust. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to turn into--" Whoever she has in mind, the thought it too unbearable and Azaylia rapidly shakes her head. Back to business, "It is temporary. Weyrleader's are supposed to be." A spasm of her lips that doesn't make it into an actual smile. "Weyrwomen are the ones who have to keep working together, no matter who catches who." Brieli's squeeze has her giving a jolt, startled squeak kept behind closed lips. "No one is going to die." Her fears are all too obvious, hand turning so that she can return the comforting pressure. "Eggs are good." Never mind the whole new slew of worries that crop up, considering Fort's misfortune. Hraedhyth's drums echo with her rider's turmoil, not confused enough by them to rampage, but she's clearly unsettled. « We will lead our pack. » That's something to do, growl meant to soothe Azaylia as well as answer the other gold. Sliding off the table, her hand leaves Brieli's, "Sorry. I didn't get much sleep, you're right." Gee I wonder why. With a wide, sudden grin, "Exactly." Brieli will be pleased for both of them. She likes the sound of what Azaylia's saying. Because, seriously. Fuck that guy. The squeak has her blinking, dark eyes going wide, agreeing, as seriously, "No one is going to die." She's not afraid, but she is determined on that point. As for the drums, the anxiety about the eggs that Iesaryth can pick up and only try to soothe, she says for both dragon and rider, "We'll make sure nothing happens." And the other gold is in quiet agreement. Dropping off the table as well, taking the bottle with her, "Go get some rest. We'll figure out more later. Though do consider if you want to stay in Glacier? We'll need to sort the queen's wing somehow." Azaylia is tired. Tired and resigned, words reluctant but certain once she gets them out, "I think it would be easier if I transferred to Aurora." She looks at the ground, arms crossing to hug herself. "Hraedhyth's not going to be any good in a fighting wing while she's eggheavy, anyway." Sure. That's one excuse. Or perhaps the goldrider is desperate to fix a problem that has an easy enough solution. Whether she likes it or not. "It might help." Dark eyes shift upwards, stopping first at the bottle and then Brieli's face. "Brieli? ...Thank you. The Weyr really would be lost without you." Hraedhyth remains concerned, but she has no fight to give against Iesaryth's attempts to soothe. The queen knows everything is going to be alright, she just wishes her lifemate could accept that. With a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, Azaylia's retreat is a slow one... a guarantee that despite what they've decided, she's still thinking. For now, Brieli just leaves it at; "All right." There's more to say, but she won't say it at the moment - and there's Azaylia's gratitude distracting her. It gives her an odd expression; she's a flash of anger and sadness and regret of all things, but she just nods and turns away to finish her glass, take the bottle back to the sideboard. "It owns me," she says - presumably. It's hard to hear, could be lost in the other goldrider's retreat. It's not till she's alone that she turns to ask the empty room, "But who's going to lead it?" A heavy sigh, and then she's tracing her friend's path outside and to her own bed. |
Comments
Ainslee (Castandcrew) left a comment on Sat, 26 Jan 2013 02:15:28 GMT.
< Man, this log was full of pure WIN. Three chicks leading a weyr is pretty much a wet dream for Ainslee, just sayin'.
H'kon? Pfffft. Because, seriously. Fuck that guy.
Can't wait to see how this all ends up. xD
Leave A Comment