Logs:Transfer of Protection and Responsibility
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| RL Date: 19 August, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Hattie |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Hattie confronts Dee about her apology letter to Erinta for the missing goods. They have a relatively frank discussion. |
| Where: Council Room, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 8, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ebeny/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, Nasci/Mentions, Szarit/Mentions |
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>---< Council Room, Fort Weyr(#839RJs$) >------------------------------------<
The Weyr's meeting space is a long, oval space with a large stone table
placed in the middle. There's seating enough for twelve around the table:
plenty of room to welcome most of the Weyrleaders and a good portion of
the Lord Holders from the north, though additional seating might be needed
if a Pern-wide meeting were to be held here.
A sideboard stands ready to serve, regardless of the occasion and is kept
well-stocked with carafes of wine, water and several fine liquors. Fresh
flowers, appropriate to the season are changed out regularly in the vase
atop the sideboard. Tapestries depicting Fort's illustrious history from
founding, to Moreta's role in the Plague to Lessa's arrival to bring the
Weyrs forward in time bedeck the walls, leavening the omnipresence of
cool, gray stone. Well-lit, the chamber boasts glows in niches around the
room, as well as oil lamps hanging from the ceiling. For much of the day now, Elaruth has been draped across her ledge, soaking up the summer sunshine and decidedly not dozing, given the brightness of her gaze. She's watchful, even of the message runner that emerges from the council room and goes darting down the steps, headed for the weyrling complex in search of Dee. Whether the message is delivered as the Weyrwoman would have it, the request is the same: to attend a meeting in the council room. And that's where the goldrider waits, behind the usual stacks of hidework, the cradle at the back of the room a new - and hopefully temporary - addition. There are no wails of an unhappy infant filling the room, at least. These sort of summons are not unfamiliar. The fact that Dee sometimes needs to forgo certain parts of the usual training to witness key meetings or attend other learning opportunities or interrupt her studies in order to do so has only served to keep her more apart from the weyrlings. As she's wont to do, she answers the summons promptly with notebook and pencil in hand. She slips in to the council room, pausing at the doorway to salute crisply before moving toward the seat she habitually chooses which keeps her more observer than participant in meetings. A minute or more passes, during which there's only a silent nod of acknowledgement from Hattie, who continues to fill in data along a row on the hide before her, and it must soon become apparent that none of the usual staff are filing in to occupy any of the empty seats at the table. Eventually, Hattie looks up again and settles back in her chair, a measured stare fixed on Dee for moment after moment. Then, she slowly reaches for something beneath one of the heaps of hides on the table and all too carefully lays it out where the weyrling might see that her own handwriting forms the text. "Would you like to explain to me what this is about?" she asks, low-voiced. Dee's hazel eyes set on Hattie's progress and the otherwise empty room. She doesn't wait long before sliding out of her chair to help herself to a glass of water and fetch one to put in front of the older goldrider. The note on the table has her hesitating there near Hattie. There's no surprise in her expression for the hand that wrote the note, just a slight dip to her brows and a tenseness to her lips as she considers it in silence. "You don't know?" It's asked simply before she slips into the seat beside Hattie, leaving her notebook abandoned down the way. Hattie waits out Dee's silence without doing anything more to press her than continue to watch her, what thanks she has for the glass of water just as silent as her initial acknowledgement of her. "I can make several inferences and half a dozen assumptions, and I can question the Headwoman and any number of other people my inferences suggest I should," she replies, matter of fact. "However, depending on personal ethics, loyalties, or lack thereof, second-hand information from these people could lead to the wrong conclusions and a poor time for the both of us." She shrugs one shoulder. "So, I ask the source." Dee regards the letter somberly once Hattie has begun to speak. She draws a slow breath and then lets it out. "Weyrwoman Lilah discovered I had made mistakes during my candidacy. Things that-- well, it complicates everything." She glances toward the bowl where Taeliyth is watching the ongoing activity of the day. "She made decisions that protected us." The burn of a blush of shame is on her cheeks, unmistakable for what it is given her expression. "Do you want to know more?" It's really a question with layers. How much transparency does the Weyrwoman wish? "She isn't here now," Hattie says tightly, her clipped voice a shield for too many things. "And now I'm the one entrusted with your protection. If I don't know exactly what it is I am to defend you for, I can hardly be expected to make a good job of it. Nor can I be expected to trust you." She reaches to gather the note back up again, her glance towards the door one that accompanies her burying it back beneath one of those piles of hidework. "I've afforded you the respect of asking you. If you'd rather, I can go and get those half-truths from sources that may or may not have any investment in your future or wellbeing." Dee's eyes lift to Hattie's and there's a tremble in her voice when she says, "It can all die with her." She'd like to believe as much anyway. It's one last opportunity, one more silent question to be very sure. That she will tell the Weyrwoman is there in the implied offer. The glare that Hattie shoots the weyrling goldrider is one that has completely escaped her control, her glassy gaze too close to the borders of both upset and fury to be defined as solely either one. Once she's reined herself back in, she declares, "While you live, it will not die. I promise you that." Dee's eyes slip closed a moment as the girl steels herself. Her shoulders square toward the older woman as her eyes open and quietly, she explains, "One of the candidates came from the Hold that had the landslides. She thought they were going to starve over the winter, that the Hold and the Weyr weren't lending material aid. So we stole from the stores to give them enough to weather the winter, only it didn't work out and wasn't necessary in the end. We screwed up in just about every way we could have and Taeliyth came out of her egg to claim me, already angry I'd stolen from our home." That much isn't strictly linked to what she's confessing, but perhaps offers clarity into the long difficult relationship rider-dragon that has only begun to seem 'easier' since Lilah's vanishing. Her jaw tightens as she adds bitterly and with cooled temper, "Lilah sent one of us to the mines." Given moments to process, Hattie eventually states, "Good." Nothing more, until she adds, "I'd say Taeliyth has every right to her anger. And I'm glad that she seems to have more respect for her home than you do. Or did." She won't look at Dee as she speaks, moving from staring to completely averting her gaze. "Firstly, unless you've personally seen them working in the mines, you've no proof that anyone was actually sent there," she says slowly and a little too clearly to be entirely pleasant. "Secondly, you stole from the people it will soon be your job to look after. I hope you learn exactly what that means as soon as possible. You will beggar yourself and this Weyr if you take from your own and take all at their word." Only then, with her own sense of bitterness, does she conclude, "You cannot be stupid. You knew to strike when I was weak." "It had nothing to do with you, ma'am," Dee's response is calm. Taeliyth's frame in the bowl is frozen, her eyes directed toward the Council Chambers. "I realize that these revelations are new to you and I won't try to stop you from saying or doing whatever it is you need to do, but I've had five months to consider the error of my ways and how to set it to rights. There is no setting it to rights, there's only doing better. I've had five months of nightmares and criticism from my lifemate," the girl lifts her eyes as if to stress that. "I would say she's provided me with an excellent education on what you've just expressed already." Without a pause she asks bluntly, "Are you going to send us away from our home? Eliyaveith promised Taeliyth she wouldn't be sent away, but she's not here," a fact that sees Dee's jaw tightened in the silence that ensues. "You deceived me and mine and stole from my home. Think again. Think what you will say when you have a bigger knot on your shoulder." Hattie still refuses to actually look right at Dee, choosing instead to focus on the wall behind her, or the table. "Your nightmares and the rest is of your own making. I'm afraid you'll find no sympathy from me for the way in which you've chosen to behave and the consequences that have followed." She pretends to study the columns and rows of numbers before her if only to give herself somewhere to direct her gaze. "...As you've pointed out, Eliyaveith isn't here. I don't know the truth of what you say. Your actions decide your fate, just like any other goldrider in training. You continue to betray us and I've no reason to keep you around. No Weyr needs a burden like that. If you work hard and answer the demands made of your training - do better - then maybe we don't have a problem. I won't go easy on you. There's too much you need to learn too quickly and too well." "I'm not asking for your sympathy." The word is said as though it tastes foul. "I'm just telling you that your 'state' wasn't a factor in our planning." Dee's expression is grim, but it looks like she has no more tears to shed for all of this. Her expression is still tight, her eyes still on the Weyrwoman when she articulates clearly, "You don't have to believe me, but I was only ever trying to help. And I was wrong. I am more sorry than I can ever say. I wasn't Taeliyth's lifemate then. I am now and that makes Fort what you say. My home, my place, and I've let it down. I can't say I won't again, but if it happens, because I am fallible," obviously, "I won't mean to. I trust you and Taeliyth to teach me what I need to know for that not to happen." Hattie takes a deep breath and holds it, but all she has for that time spent silent is a measured, "You've missed the point," that may be infinitely more gentle than what she might have launched into. Not that she elaborates any further, statement delivered with a touch of finality. "If you continue only ever trying to help, you will drag down everything and everyone you hold dear. I'm not telling you this to be cruel; I'm telling you this because you will be in a position to be very helpful to a lot of people, and those people are highly unlikely to care what getting what they want costs you." Only now does she look back to her with an abrupt change of subject. "If what I hear is correct, Fort Sea is holding a Gather tomorrow for some turnday or another. If you and the Weyrlingmaster are of the opinion that Taeliyth can spare you, we'll go. People need to see you. And you need to learn in the real world." Dee is silent in the face of the Weyrwoman's words, but her expression is thoughtful. Perhaps it can be counted as a plus that the teen isn't so headstrong as to let the advice go unheard even if heeding it is another matter entirely. Her expression shifts to surprise when Hattie mentions the gather. Her mouth opens and then closes, as if whatever words she was searching for simply weren't found. She gives a confused look toward the bowl. "I can go if Weyrlingmaster Ebeny approves," which means she's speaking for Taeliyth at least, "but--" the word was there before it was spoken. Blushing, Dee looks down at her hands and then to Hattie, "I don't have anything to wear except--" she makes a gesture toward her work clothes. Hattie barely pauses before reaching for a small rectangle of scrap hide, upon which she scrawls a message no longer than two sentences, then signs. "Take this to Erinta, then visit the seamstresses," she says, offering over the piece of hide. "If they're not able to locate - and alter if need be - something suitable, then I've a weaver we can contact, but let's start with what might be here for the borrowing and adopting." She looks Dee up and down. "You're a little too tall for anything of mine," she utters wryly. What more she might say is interrupted by the baby, who has been good so far, but the unmistakable cry of an unhappy infant pierces the air at an unsettling pitch that immediately draws Hattie's attention. "If you'll excuse me..." "Yes, ma'am," is simple acquiescence as Dee accepts the note. She glances to the note and then back to the woman who wrote it. She manages a small smile, though it doesn't reach her eyes for the matter of her height. She nods, of course to what Hattie needs to do, rising from her own chair to take her glass and move down the table to retrieve her lonely notebook from where it had been abandoned. |
Comments
Aleudre (19:39, 19 August 2015 (PDT)) said...
Too bad E'dre doesn't have time to create a master piece for Dee ;) - really great scene ladies.
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