Logs:Run
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| RL Date: 5 July, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Leova |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: At her private dragonhealing lessons, Farideh cracks and Leova intervenes. |
| Where: Dragon Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 3, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions |
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| There's been time. Time to collect information. Time for sit-ins with a mix of usually much older students, for passing over documentation to learn in depth and write assessments, but not the same individual consult as before. Today, though, the infirmary's been cleared and the table set out, and only Leova awaits her. The dragonhealer's clipped all the sun-rust out of her hair, leaving sleek auburn waves about that steady amber gaze. Unfailingly, after all of that information-collecting and collaboration lesson-learning, Farideh shows up for her private lessons with Leova. She has a short stack of hides with her, which she unceremoniously places on the table before taking her seat across from the greenrider; now, unlike the first, there's less uncertainty, and more sureness, that's come from time and growth, and of course, lessons. "Leova," she breathes, with a tentative smile. "Far-i-deh," Leova gives her back with warm humor, spacing out the syllables but quick on the last: ready, well ready, to begin. She reaches out with her scarred hand to accept the hides, the work, the time. Once she's slid them closer to her, though, she doesn't even look. "Is there anything pressing?" By the weyrling's definition, even. "If not... do summarize." Farideh's fingers link on the table top and she watches Leova, who doesn't even look at all the hard work she put into those hides! "I wanted to-- I want to, have you help us, focus on gold influence. Irianke and Niahvth have been, but it's-- very important, and I don't know that we're rea-- that we're getting it right, that it's not strong enough." And then, a sunny smile. "Everything?" Looking is for later. The dragonhealer's nod is slow, straightforward, an intangible gleam in those amber eyes... and a one-sided curve finding her mouth for 'strong'. Still, "Let's say," Leova says. Her hands don't even steeple, though the amusement in her smoky voice implies they should. "Everything. If you like. But then you'll be summarizing all session, Farideh, and you won't have time for influence at all." "Scratch everything, then. I really need to focus on influence now. We need to focus on influence. Is it because Roszadyth is so-- nice? Does it have to do with aggression or just-- her focus? My focus?" Farideh spreads her hands plaintively, and then reknits them, her brows knitting at the same time with a similar purpose. "I need help. With this." Leova's posture doesn't change. She's still sitting there, at the table, the collected hidework under her care. But the girl's everything meets with a single shake of her head, and at the end she concludes with a simple, "No." "No?" Farideh's posture deflates; her shoulders fall, her mouth sags into a frown, and her face simply looks long. "Why?" "Brevity is acceptable." The greenrider considers the girl. "Encouraged, to a point. Omissions are not. So." Her smile hasn't returned, only expectation. "How your dragon picks up on others' moods, and how they pick up on hers. What troubles her, inside and outside the two of you." A drawn out sigh falls from Farideh's lips as she sits back, suddenly all dramatic recently-teenaged behavior. "I've seen her up upset, now. Roszadyth is kind, and she doesn't want to bother anyone else, not if they don't want her to, but she-- she can tell. She does, pick up on their moods, though she doesn't like to intrude." She pauses, staring at Leova. "And her moods, are usually pleasant, and others-- they like to see her happy, too. I think-- well, they try to reassure her, I guess, because they can feel it too, if she is, troubled. Not often, but she's been upset recently. Now that we-- go places, now that we can fly and between, she's always worried about me. If I'm safe, if anyone is hurting me, but that's not unusual? I think she worries a lot about doing what's-- best for me, for the Weyr, for the other weyrlings. But she's always reassuring me, all the time, that everything will be fine." Leova eases up as Farideh starts in, listening closely without a great deal of reaction, though she meets that stare with a half-smile and waits out any of the more obscure parts until they appear to clear up. "Just upset over that, over you?" she checks. "Seems, hm. Not so usual if it reaches that level of worry." Only, more empathetically now, "Do you worry? So often. That things won't be fine." Of all the questions Leova could have asked, did ask, it's apparent from the shock she displays that Farideh is not expecting that particular line of questioning. "Me? Am I-- I'm always worried about-- everything. It's not some small responsibility," she says, quietly. "Do you think I'm-- am I the one that's doing it? Am I making her worried from my worries?" "Might worry you'd worry, do I say yes," Leova says dryly. "But. Farideh. Weyrlings: know it seems like a big deal even now, but this is where you've got... maybe not free rein to screw up, but if you're going to, it's the safest time and place to do it. Here. Don't have to lock yourself in so soon." "Leova," Farideh says, through another sigh. "I've been grounded twice. I can't even do-- and be-- now. It's over and all I've ever do from now is worry. I just-- I don't want to fail. I don't want Roszadyth to think ill of me and I don't want her to feel--" She gives her head a shake. "I just want to learn. I need to, how to do-- this." "So you've been grounded twice." Leova's got a one-shouldered shrug for that. "Beat most weyrlings, but you haven't screwed things up with any Lords Holder, have you? So you're still behind." It's wry, not dismissive. "Understand taking it seriously. Understand worrying, even. We all did. Sometimes wanted to toss that silver thread right back. Question: what helps that worry? Wearing yourself out working out, say? Copying hides 'til your eyes cross? Something else?" "Not yet, but Lord Devaki and I, already, aren't on the steadiest of terms--" Farideh frowns, and looks down briefly. "I don't know? Before-- before I came here, back at home-- home before High Reaches-- I would always find a way out. I would run until I couldn't, anymore, or I would slip down to the docks and watch the traders, the sailors, or I'd fall into the sea. I can't do any of that here. I can't even run without--" She sucks in a breath. "I haven't found anything here yet. Nothing, yet." "Without," Leova hesitates. "Her worrying?" "No, not without-- her worrying," Farideh replies, even quieter. "What do I do?" "If you tell me 'without," Leova says, and she says it gently. "I can give you a better answer than just, 'fly somewhere where you can run your heart out.'" "I don't-- I don't know, Leova," is frustrated to the point of actual tears, which she tries to inconspicuously hide by blinking rapidly; of course that never works. Her throat works as Farideh tries to get ahold of her emotions, with her hands in her lap. "I just don't know. Aren't you supposed to-- I just-- I'm sorry. I don't know what to say." "Tell you what to do?" That's gentle too. "'S all right, Farideh." Leova looks at her a moment, then leaves the table. When she returns, it's with a soft clean cloth, though Farideh will have to suffer the thin bandage's old stains if she wishes to blow her nose or wipe her face. "Going to be just fine. You know Madilla, aye? Master Madilla." To her. "It's--" Farideh draws herself up, straight, with all of the dignity she can muster, and says nothing, until Leova comes back with the cloth. She takes it, but only to wind around her fingers. "I've heard of it. I might have seen her in passing, but I've never-- met, Master Madilla. Why? Do you think there's something wrong with me? Do I need to be examined?" is a touch hysteric. Leova doesn't swear. She just doesn't. Mildly, "Master Madilla is possibly the kindest person on this planet. Going to refer you to talk to her. Reckon she'll help you with all the worry you've got going, Farideh. That'll ease up a lot of things." "Do you really--" Farideh eases out another breath. "If you think it will help me, Leova, then I will do it. If talking to Master Madilla will help with-- everything-- than, I have to try." And then she goes quiet, eyes overly bright and lips pressed tight. "I really do." There's all seriousness in it, and quiet assurance. There's also Leova's just as quiet smile as she gets to her feet and, given such a person as Farideh, moves to escort the girl over. "She may not be in the Weyr this moment, but we'll find out when." If there's red tape at all, it can fall like a carpet before their feet. |
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