Logs:Tracking Down Tayte
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| RL Date: 25 August, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Mikaelen |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del tracks down Tayte's father in his search for her. Only, visiting family didn't apparently mean dear ol' Mom and Dad. |
| Where: Kitchens, Bitra Hold |
| When: Day 15, Month 8, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tayte/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated and played by gdocs. Mikaelen by Tayte. |
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| It's that time of the afternoon where there's a lull in activity in the kitchens of any place with a sizable populace to feed: the time just after clean-up is well and truly finished from lunch and before the bulk of the dinner preparations go into swing. It's a narrow window, but it might almost be called peaceful. There are things happening here and there in the large space, small tasks still being attended to, because a kitchen is never truly still, but it does provide refuge for those in between tasks or seeking a few moments of relative serenity. Mikaelen's stroll comes with a slight limp, but one he manages well enough that the wineglasses on the tray he carries aren't in any danger. Warm and pleasant words are exchanged with the young woman dealing with dish intake as he hands off the soiled things to her and she nods him toward one of the hearths. It takes him a few more moments to fetch the meal that's been set aside for him from where it was being kept warm and make it to the tables that are used for both prep and for the occasional meal for those not dining with the masses. He settles himself on a stool and digs into the meal, his manner quiet and reserved. Even in his silence, there's a quiet warmth to him, an elegant but humble bearing, and an identifiable gentility and grace to his look and movements. He's unassuming, despite his average height and solid but slender build. Unassuming, but hungry. It's taken quite some work to get to this point, though it's also fair to say that K'del's earliest attempts at information gathering were rather thwarted by emotional distractions. The bronzerider is dressed tidily but not formally, today, his standard riding leathers well-maintained but not showy. It's a short time after Mikaelen begins his meal that he gets interrupted, K'del's directions having finally led him here. He approaches, standing at the opposite side of the table, and hesitates - then, carefully, he clears his throat. "Sir?" Mikaelen's blue-grey eyes pull from his plate to the voice, though he's not exactly expecting to be addressed in this way, in this place. Upon realizing the address was, yes, to him, and that it comes from a rider - bronzerider, even - the wine steward is starting to struggle up from the seat on his bench. "Bitra's duties to High Reaches, Wingsecond." There are certain positions in a Hold where being familiar with all manner of knots is helpful. This stately gentleman enjoys one such. He starts with the polite greeting. One of K'del's hands is instantly lifted in an attempt to forestall Mikaelen's movement: sit, sit, it's fine, the gesture seems to imply, though the bronzerider doesn't follow it up with a verbal invitation. "And High Reaches' to Bitra. Don't mean to interrupt your meal, sir... it's just that you were pointed out to me, and I hoped you could give me a moment of your time." K'del's hands are tucked behind his back, now, and that means Mikaelen won't be able to see how nervously his fingers are twisting around each other. Perhaps he anticipated the hand, or is simply that grateful for the gesture that Mikaelen's response of sinking back to the bench is immediate. The man's expression doesn't change much from the one of composure it wore when offering his greeting. "Always glad to be of assistance, bronzerider. How can I help you? Looking to put an end to the much debated topic of which Bitran vintage is the best?" There's a touch of levity in that comment, an easiness which might seem familiar. He make gesture to the bench across from him, silently making invitation to the bronzerider that he could join him. "If you're hungry, I'm sure the kitchens would be glad to fix you a plate." He adds graciously. It's easy to see why Mikaelen's been a wine steward so long; the right temperament and manners. "My family makes Tillek wine-- well, grows the grapes, anyway. We could have a good argument over the merits of both regions, if you like," offers K'del, genially, having shaken his head to refuse the offer of food. He does sit, though, straight-backed, with his hands pressed to the table in front of him. He's not wholly at ease, despite his words. "Actually, sir, it's your daughter I'm here to ask after. You are Tayte's father, aren't you?" "Mm, Tillek. There's a kind of wine where you can taste the region in the vintage." Whatever that means, and whether it's complimentary or not is rather difficult to discern, but the wine steward doesn't seem anything less than conversationally polite in saying so. The bronzerider's next words, however, give him pause. Mikaelen's brows lift slightly and he glances to the man's knot and badge once more as though to simply reinforce what he observed moments ago. A slight incline of his head would seem to confirm that he is Tayte's father, yes. "You're from the Weyr she's posted at." He observes, not a question. There's tension in his form now, "Is she alright?" Because surely one of the plausible reasons a 'Reaches rider would be here about his daughter is that she is not. "Sharp," says K'del, which is probably in relation to the Tillekian vintages, not that he clarifies one way or another. Mikaelen's response to his question, though, takes most of his attention - he inhales, carefully, and then exhales again. "To be honest, was rather hoping you'd be able to tell me. She... left a note to say she was going to visit family," he's careful to avoid mention of Yvalia, clearly abruptly aware that if Tayte has not come here, it's certainly not his business to give them that piece of news. "I've been trying to track her down, since. Imagine that means she's not here." Mikaelen would probably like his expression to be more guarded than it is in the first moments after K'del speaks. Briefly on his age-lined face, there can be seen the aching worry of parent for child, the worry that includes the heartache of long separation. "We haven't seen Tayte since before she was posted Ista over five turns ago." That that pains him is obvious in his tone. "I'd love nothing more than to say she's visiting us..." But apparently he can't. There's a slight frown on his face now, "Perhaps you ought to start at the beginning." Because he might yet be of help, but first things first, "The beginning is probably who you are and why you're looking for her." Now his look has become more even. Protective parenting instincts help act as an anchor for reigning in shows of emotion. K'del, with children of his own, even if they're still closer to home, recognises that expression; it's obvious that it makes his heart hurt, too. He swallows, hesitating before answering as though there's some internal thought process going on - a deliberation. "My name is K'del," he says, and though there's something in his expression and tone that expects the name to mean something - it certainly does to most people around Pern - he doesn't dwell on it. "Tayte's my friend. Went away for a few days, and came back to a note from her, saying she needed to go away for a while, visit family. Know she hasn't been in contact with you in some time; guess I'd hoped she'd changed her mind on that." So K'del recognizes one fatherly look. Does he recognize the next that's leveled at him? It's the one K'del will one day give the boy coming to court one of his daughters when he doesn't completely buy it. It's subtle, but stern. "And you think my Tayte might be in trouble?" Because she'll always be his little girl. There's a hard swallow before, "She knows she can always come home." The hard swallow is probably that it's more likely that Mikaelen and Estarra long for her to come home. At least more frequently than not once in the last five turns. That is not a look K'del has yet had to employ, unsurprisingly, but perhaps he's at least a little aware of what it entails; he flushes, faintly, but otherwise holds his ground. "Not in trouble, as such, it's just..." He exhales. "Not worried about her physical well-being, I should say. But I care about her, and she was... upset, when I last talked to her." It's obvious that he doesn't like admitting that to her father, but he's trying to be honest, here. "She thinks you wouldn't approve of her." Mikaelen's look is intent as he listens to K'del's words. Behind the beard that so suits his face, his expression is largely unreadable beyond thoughtful and then deliberating once the bronzerider has finished. If he lets K'del wait an uncomfortable amount of time before he speaks, it's because he's assessing what's he's being told and not because he wants K'del to feel more uncomfortable than he does already. "Let me make sure I understand." He starts at long last, and his tone has a hushed quality to it that builds to a certain strength if not volume as he paraphrases with his own spin, "You came here hoping to find my daughter, because she left the Weyr leaving you a note that says she's visiting family, and you want to find her because the last time you talked with her, she was upset. And you're telling me that my first child thinks I wouldn't approve of her. But you're looking for her here." He lets what that sounds like to him sink in as his arms slowly draw into a cross over his chest. "So, K'del," Not sir or bronzerider, just K'del, because he's the Father here, "Did you hurt my little girl?" He's not angry, his tone is as even as ever, in fact, perhaps unnervingly so, but his look is bordering on severe. Put that way, it really does leave K'del looking miserable, his gaze lowering towards the table, making him look rather more like a guilty schoolboy than perhaps he ought. Finally, when Mikaelen directs that question to him, he opens his mouth. "Won't lie to you, Sir." He will keep up that protocol. "I did. Didn't mean to, and I regret that my actions hurt her, with all my heart, but... yes, I hurt her." He doesn't look up - just waits, stock still. K'del's contriteness seems to pacify Mikaelen. He shifts. His arms don't drop, nor does his expression become less intense, but at least that's not the end of the conversation. "So, tell me, why I should help you find my daughter?" Because if Tayte wanted him to know where she was, she would have been more specific than 'visiting family', wouldn't she? But in asking, Mikaelen's offering K'del the chance to convince him. K'del swallows, thickly. If he's relieved, he doesn't show it, except in the way he finally lifts his chin so that those pale blue eyes can study the older man. "Because I love her. Not... not in the romantic sense. I'm not in love with her. But I care about her, sir. She's one of the best friends I've ever had, and I'm concerned about her. Maybe she doesn't want to see me, and I guess that's her choice. Just want to know that she's safe, that she's being looked after, that... that she's going to be okay." He's speaking truthfully, unless he's a very good liar. That there's something he hasn't mentioned... well, it's not wholly hidden, but nor has he drawn attention to it. Mikaelen studies K'del with his impassive expression, arms still folded across his chest. Maybe if K'del thinks about what he said in part A of his explanation and what he's given now as part B, he could see how the evidence doesn't clear him as a potential stalker or abusive ex-boyfriend. Or something. "Well." He starts finally after yet another long silence. "I appreciate you bringing it to my attention that she might not be safe, and I'll certainly be finding an answer to that question, but I can't see my way to telling you where she is or might be if I find that information." Certainly, there's something about his knowing look that says he has a much better idea than K'del about where to look next. "But," His tone is relenting with it's hard edge, "When I find out that she is safe," Because Faranth help whatever or whomever might have made her unsafe, "I'll send you word that she is." So that's something, anyway. A firm, determined shake of the head answers Mikaelen. "Sir, I don't expect you tell me where she is. Which isn't to say that I wouldn't like to know, but... you don't know me, and you have no reason to trust me, or my intentions. Not sure there's anything I could tell you that would change that, either." The headshaking has stopped, and now, sucking in a deep breath, he nods. "Do appreciate it, though. Anything you can pass on. She may not be happy with me getting you involved, sir, but... family is important." "It is." Mikaelen agrees. And there's an opportunity there that he won't miss taking: "So perhaps you would tell me why Tayte thinks we wouldn't approve of her?" There's an element in his expression that suggests he's torn between disbelief and believing and being pained by the belief. It's a question that K'del must have anticipated, and yet it still leaves him without an easy answer - his hesitation is obvious, a solid force behind the stiffness of his shoulders and his expression. "She thinks you won't approve of some of her life choices," he says, finally. "But I don't know that it's my place to tell you about them. Only... she's a good woman, sir. A good person. And I think it's as much about her own insecurities as it is about you. Think she's afraid of disappointing you, most of all. But you shouldn't be disappointed in her." Mikaelen's face doesn't reveal whether he thinks it's possible that he and Estarra would disapprove of some of Tayte's life choices. One might think with her mother being the card dealer that that's where Tayte gets her poker face, but apparently Mikaelen has a pretty good one of his own. He simply nods to K'del after another moment of silence. "I will send you word that she is safe." And there's some amount of confidence in that, so perhaps that word won't be long in coming. He must think, at least, that he knows exactly where to look for Tayte. K'del exhales, with some... relief? Yes, it does seem to be relief. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. I... do hope that you and Tayte can... that is... I'm sorry. Shouldn't interfere. I'll leave you to your meal; sorry for the interruption." A ghost of something likely as unexpected as K'del's relief slips onto Mikaelen's face: amusement. "You're too young to have raised a child to adulthood." He states, lips torn between even and their desire to curl into a small smile. "If you do, you'll learn there are times when others should interfere. Even if there are consequences enough to go around for that interference." Some anecdote likely comes to mind, because that smile does find its way to his lips finally, and he ducks his head to hide the tender expression with a biteful of his meal. "Still got that ahead of me," allows K'del, as much as he surely doesn't think Mikaelen expects an answer. "Thank you, sir." If nothing else, it leaves him with something to think about... something else. As if he didn't have enough on his mind already! |
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