Logs:Not At Knifepoint
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 28 August, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, Hattie |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aishani checks in on Hattie. It's agreed that something needs to be done about the standing of goldriders in Interval society. |
| Where: Sunning Spot, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 8, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions, Onkya/Mentions |
 |
| Though she's 'officially' back on duty, 'unofficially', Fort's Weyrwoman seems to be being given more leeway with regards to getting things done to time of late, which might be one reason why, despite being absent from the caverns for an hour or more now, nobody has reached out to Elaruth to request her rider's presence in one meeting or another. For many, recent events have formed something of an elephant in the room as concerns keeping company with Hattie, and so she has that to thank for the fact that Elaruth has secured that prime sunning ledge of Fort's and managed to keep it to themselves. The wings of the senior queen are half-unfurled to catch the light, her rider securely curled against a forearm, Hattie's feet free of fur-lined boots and her jacket abandoned to one side. Once things had settled somewhat at Fort, post-liberation of Southern Boll and Fort's goldriders from it, Iesaryth had returned to the skies above the Weyr for her usual visits -- albeit with immediate identification to the dragons in charge and Isyath besides. Her usual interest in the traffic of the Weyr seems to have a certain caution now, even today, when the Reachian queen appears to glide down into the bowl. Aside from the bubbly wash of her presence, she doesn't disturb Elaruth; she can find the queen with her own eyes, and instead of winging towards the usual ledge, she aims for the spot by the star stones, careful not to shadow over gold or rider. It would be a lie to say that Hattie doesn't tense at the sight of another queen in Fort's skies. In that split-second of nameless something, she must become all the more glad for Iesaryth's manners and Elaruth's sensitivity, for they mean she doesn't have to track the Reachian gold's path and attempt to identify her by some physical element or another. Knowing about Iesaryth's visits is one thing; seeing her in the skies is quite another, as irrational as it may seem, even to her. Automatically, Elaruth draws her wings in closer as she becomes aware of Iesaryth's direction, creating more room for both landing and settling, while Hattie sits up and doesn't lounge quite so much. Surely, Aishani must be aware of the concern of seeing even another dragon in Fort's skies, perhaps why identification is so swift and a bit more broad than before; neither she nor Iesaryth would like to bring more worry to the Weyr. When the larger queen lands, her air is apologetic as she settles and tries to draw herself in, wrapping tail tightly around her, wings folded. From atop the dragon, her rider calls, "Don't be formal on my account." As if formality is simply sitting up. Once she's dismounted, the goldrider pulls off her jacket to discard on the stone -- she's wearing a belt knife now. "I just wanted to see how you were. We can even dispense with the duties, if you'd rather." Elaruth is quite the opposite to her rider in the best of social situations. Not the sort to truly consider other queens a threat (unless, of course, there are eggs in the equation), and with memories of just over a fortnight ago beginning to fade, she's welcoming of Iesaryth in as much as acknowledging her with a calm, steady gaze and wordless sense of 'my ledge is your ledge'. At least this ledge. "I-" Hattie begins to answer, her head tipped back to seek out Aishani, only for words to be stolen away from her at the sight of that belt knife. Her mouth closes and her focus absents itself somewhere else for a moment, but then she's back and she offers a simple, "Please," in agreement. Easygoing, Iesaryth's only concern is not taking up too much of Elaruth's space, since it is her Weyr and her spot, but given there's space enough for more than a few dragons, she's probably being over-cautious. Her gaze is bright and blue and likewise calm, but she will watch the skies even if they're not hers, natural curiosity mixed with caution all the same. There's a moment where Aishani blinks at Hattie's stolen words and distraction; her gaze flickers to her hip then over to the Weyrwoman before she moves to sit next to her, not yet looking at her feet. There's a beat before, "I've carried something for some time, just concealed. I thought being obvious wasn't a bad idea." A little shrug, before an offer to change the subject. "How are your children?" "I usually have something in my boot, out-Weyr," Hattie replies, matter of fact, but there's a hint of disbelief rounded on herself as she adds, "I don't know why I didn't, that day. I suppose I didn't think-" Either literally didn't think or didn't expect what happened. She doesn't linger long on thinking that through now, when there's nothing she can do about it, and moves to adopt the offered subject with the smallest of smiles. "I'm told Gethin sat on Elaruth's ledge for a whole night and wouldn't budge. Lucky for him that it's summer," she shares, voice leaning towards wry. "Nimarie and Nehmet don't seem worse for wear, but... they're young." Small mercies. Tilting her head, she eyes Aishani sidelong before asking, "Are things at the Reaches... as you would have them?" Ruefully, wryly, "It figures." That she didn't that day or didn't think, or expect. Aishani shakes her head a little. "It's always that way, it seems. Iolene... well. Fighting likely wouldn't have helped any." Her jaw tightens, sets as she remembers that, and looks up towards the ledges, lips pursing. But she doesn't say much else, not right yet. Flashing her own faint smile, "I imagine he might not have lasted long in winter. I'm sure they're all glad to have you safer at home." She won't say safe. The question has her arching fine brows before giving it due consideration. "It's not a simple thing to step back," she admits. "But I have things to occupy my time. And she's due for a flight sooner than later, still." "I broke D'lak's nose," Hattie says seemingly out of nowhere, as if it's some small consolation for her lapse. "But even if I could have thrown all of them off... there was Ali. I couldn't leave her." Those words are unhampered by sentiment or emotion; said as one would say that the sky is blue. Factual. "I hope I don't ever have to explain it to them." To her children. Master of the short statement that she is, of late. She glances down at her knees, then lifts her gaze back to the sky, thoughtful, or so she would have it appear. "Have you- Are you considering... trying to sway her? If she's the sort to permit herself to be." "They were also dragonriders, which I imagine might have stayed your hand at that point." By her tone, Aishani doesn't seem to think it's much of a reason now. Still slightly tensed for all that she'd seem relaxed enough from afar, legs crossed up under her, she'll chance a look down at Hattie's feet before quietly, "After our Weyrwoman and your eggs and this... I want to go to the Council. I want something done. We're being assaulted and killed and no one seems to care." Glancing up to see the other goldrider looking skyward, she has a little laugh. "It wouldn't be the first time. I'd like things to work out, but..." A shrug. Who knows. Did Hattie think of that at the time? She confirms nothing aloud, her silence and the thin line of her lips suggesting maybe not. It's also in silence that she processes Aishani's desire to go to the Council, her gaze focusing on the distant line of the rim of the opposite wall of the bowl. "I used to think that being a goldrider would allow a person to be entirely selfish and dictatorial if they chose. To make people miserable, if they wished it. And now..." She pauses, her attention drifting down to her knees and from there to heavily-bandaged feet that look more like a feline's padded paws in their cloth-wrapped fluffiness. "I don't think I'm that Weyrwoman, but maybe that's the goldrider that people need to see and have if we're not to be hurt." Considering that, their role, so to speak, Aishani first glances over her shoulder to Iesaryth before following Hattie's gaze, as if it might help her think. "Being a goldrider, a Weyrwoman, certainly gives one the power to do those things, to be those things. I think when you're dictatorial and make unpopular decisions, people see it as selfish and making people miserable anyway, even if there are reasons for it. And..." There's another look toward those bandages, then up to Hattie herself again. "Strength was why I wanted to stand for Reaches, to ensure none would see us as a target. I am unsure that much would change a determined mind, however. I don't know how it's come to this." "I don't know what measures could be put in place to protect us," Hattie has to admit, the very idea that she doesn't know drawing an uncomfortable flex of her shoulders. "I know I can fight. I made sure of that, since I was a weyrling. It didn't-" She takes a moment, biting down hard on the inside of her lip. "That I fought made it worse," she states, stare gone blank. "I don't think I could tolerate being guarded day and night, but short of making sure that we are seen as all-powerful and untouchable... I have no idea what we can do, unless we are to start making threats of our own." "If you'd killed one of them, the whole thing might have fallen apart. But if they were up to doing that-" Aishani lifts her chin towards Hattie's bandages, "I think they would have found an excuse. And perhaps an offensive..." She trails off, then forges ahead. "Is the best plan. We had to allow our murderer to slink off and do the honorable thing because of politics. There's no politics to stop anyone from putting-" The younger goldrider stops, lest she sound too into the idea. Letting out a breath, "Someone murdered a Harper at Nabol. I believe in change, but not at knifepoint." "...If it had been just me... I think I would have risked more," Hattie confesses in a murmur. "There came a point where I couldn't," wouldn't, "risk anything I did being taken out on Ali or the Blood. Maybe I should have been selfish." Grimly, she amends, "Maybe we should be selfish." She shakes her head a little, slow sigh escaping her. "N'muir told me as much, once. The Weyrs are ours; we are the ultimate authority, if we'd only prove it." A low, humourless bark of something that's not quite laughter follows on the heels of those words. "We don't even have each other's backs. Those goldriders turned against Tiriana. I fully expect the Council to tell me in no uncertain terms that I brought this on myself." She frowns. "That Harper... a known someone or is the crime unsolved?" With a faint smile, "That might be to your credit. I don't know... I might have risked the Blood, but maybe not Azaylia. It's hard to say how we'll react till we're there... but it hasn't made me any more easy. I don't envy the chasers when Iesaryth does go up. I don't know how many knives I might be carrying." Aishani's grin shades a bit rueful. Hopefully she won't send any wounded riders back Fortwards. Sighing a touch, "I'd probably agree with your Weyrleader on that. Our Holders are playing little games with tithes, and by allowing it, who knows what they'll do this harvest, plus Nabol's in contention, so taking tithe could be a political misstep, depending on how it's done and who does the giving." And though Shani's certainly no fan of Tiriana, she still wrinkles her nose and has to admit, "That might have been the start of this. If we didn't have each other's backs before, perhaps now is the time. And really." Frowning, "Did Iolene? Are they all right with their own clutches at risk? I wonder." As for the Harper, "There's suspicions, but the crime is otherwise unsolved." Hattie's burble of laughter doesn't contain much genuine mirth, but she cracks another tiny, sharp smile. "If anyone thinks to make any unsolicited physical contact, I'd say a few little cuts would serve as a good reminder for the future." Little cuts. It's difficult to tell whether she's joking or not. "...They're walking all over us," she mutters as that smile ebbs, gaze tipping back up to the sky. "We don't have a common enemy to fight, so we're turning on each other and no-one is sure who the 'authority' is." She shoots another sidelong look at Aishani, considering. "Some Weyrwomen are ruled by their Weyrleaders, even at Council. If we were to... invite," safer word that 'summon' or 'call', "a meeting of goldriders..." The thought is only half-formed, or so it seems. "Without a Harper note taker." Without making another Harper a target. Shuddering lightly, "That's the worst of it, I think. It was only N'rov before," For whatever reason, ahem. "So I haven't... if there's a lot of them..." Aishani has a disgusted look about her as she tells Hattie, "I don't want them too close." Until they must be. Offering over her own smile, a dark one, "I said to someone the other day, life is cheap in an Interval, it seems. Precious only when we could lose it at any moment. Sad, really." But rather than dwell on that, she'll grasp on action, noting, "Azaylia and I had talked about... something similar before. After everything with Monaco, I think it might have been difficult -- but Oriane wouldn't miss out, I don't think." "Most of them know how to behave," Hattie says slowly. "...The best you can really hope for is... calm. The more agitated people become, the more likely things are to get messy. If you're calm... they tend to be as well. Not that I'm suggesting it's easy." Nor does she appear absolutely thrilled at the thought of flights herself. "Onyka of Ista has been itching to lecture me in person about the behaviour of certain people in the Weyr's employment, so I expect that she would jump at the opportunity if only for that purpose." She can't quite fight the urge to roll her eyes. "If Azaylia would amenable... And I would have to speak with Ali. It wouldn't be something I would be willing to order anyone to attend, especially if half the point is us making our own decisions." Grimacing, "I'll hope for the best, but flights at High Reaches seem to involve a lot of punching." Aishani does roll her eyes at that, resigned but still annoyed by it. Men. And some women. There's a smirk for the idea of being lectured, and she nods, allowing, "I'm sure there's reasons like that, and just not wanting to be left out besides. I've never gotten anywhere with Ista, but... who knows." Thoughtful, "I'll see about Azaylia. It might be even something to just... ensure the lot of them can't get rid of any one of us that easily again. Not if it leads to this chaos." "Even if we could just put together some kind of common protocol for the Sands so that we can't stand back and accuse each other of being paranoid or call a Weyr's security into question..." Hattie supposes, twitching one shoulder in a half-shrug. "That sort of thing. There are things common to every goldrider's life and work that we don't ever talk about or help each other with. We're all too busy expecting our Holds or each other to stab us in the back." She flinches at that phrasing, inadvertently hitting a little too close to home. Moving swiftly on: "It couldn't be something we let everybody know about. We would just make targets of ourselves." "Things some of us had to learn on our own or elsewhere, just because of circumstance. Yes." Aishani has a faintly sad smile, but she's nodding agreeably, even with that particular wording. "Our Holds, one of the Crafts... And targets of ourselves, or the bronzeriders might get nervous, think we're going to do away with them. Not-" She has to grin, amused. "That I haven't thought of it before." Or she hasn't tried, just a little bit. "Or maybe they'd believe it if we said we were talking about baking and babies and dresses?" She's skeptical. "I think we should just tell them that we're going to compare notes on how they are behind closed doors," Hattie deadpans, though she's not able to contemplate having a conversation of such a nature with anyone without cringing slightly. "Make them all sit and brood and stare at each other over a pint of ale in our absence." However petty it might be. "Or say we're running seminars about the politics behind baking. Is it polite to turn up to a Holder function with a cake or are you inadvertently implying that they shorted their tithe by the wrong choice of icing?" Aishani has an unladylike snort for that, smirking. "I've notes on what to do in the event of comparing notes. So at least it'd be a lie that's come up in the past. And yes, does a lack of buttercream mean that they're not good enough for using butter on? Its these sorts of diplomatic issues to which we must devote our time." She affects a tragic expression, so put upon, for Hattie. "Speaking of time, I should likely spend some of mine being sympathetic to one particular bronzerider- will you be able to get up on Elaruth all right?" Getting down is a bit easier, sometimes. Hattie mirrors a smirk back at Aishani, genuine amusement sparking to life in dark eyes. "Really? It's nice to know that they worry about these things." She'll cling to the lighter side of things while she can, though enquiry after her managing to get back into straps and subsequently back down to the ground prompts a quick look up her lifemate, who may be small for a queen, yet is no petite little green. "I..." Admitting to the prospect of any trouble must seem like a mortifying idea, given her hesitation. "I've numbweed and more bandages. If it's too much, I'll numb myself from the knees down." Still clinging, there. "I'll speak to Ali about... a potential baking seminar." As she pushes up to her feet, "Probably something about wingleaders. I don't know." Aishani's still smirking as she waves it off, but suggests easily, "If it's too much, perhaps call your Weyrleader. He ought to be useful for something, after all." It's probably the least N'muir can do, and he's less embarrassing to call for help. She's sympathetic though, as she adds, picking up her jacket, "I hope you're truly on your feet again, and that Ali's no worse for the ordeal." Her expression seems to suggest it's unlikely... but she can hope. "I'll speak with Azaylia as well, perhaps Monaco if I'm there. We'll let you know what we here." Her wave is closer to a salute before she climbs up on Iesaryth again, who has a companionable rumble for Elaruth before taking off for the ledges high above. |
Leave A Comment