Logs:Maybe Always
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| RL Date: 3 August, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh and K'del bond over cake and mutual hatred. |
| Where: Weyrleader Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 6, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Gorgeous~ |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, M'kris/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, Mirinda/Mentions |
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| Warm(er) weather and cloudless skies have drawn Farideh out of her hidey-hole weyr, away from the endless mounds of paperwork, wing shadowing, and weyrfolk with problems, to enjoy it, on the weyrleaders' low ledge. She's even got a quilt spread out, and an assortment of things to keep her busy: wine, cake, and books! It's hard to want for more, except maybe enjoyable company; today she's sitting by herself, while Roszadyth is basking in the lake, thumbing idly through the time-worn pages of one of those books, unbothered by the full sunshine already reddening her cheeks and forearms; sunshine is preferable to winter, anyway. Taiga's dragons have been in the air, today, performing an aerial display that F'manis has got to be pleased with. Now, Cadejoth glides back towards his ledge, generating only a light breeze in the process-- hopefully not enough to bother Farideh in her repose. It's not long after that K'del's tread on the stairs because audible, the blond-haired Weyrleader appearing himself a few moments later. "Farideh," he greets, polite but not more than passingly so; he'll carry on. It's fine. They don't need to talk. Cadejoth's arrival interests the weyrling enough to glance up from her absent skimming, and she watches the stair landing expectantly, until the weyrleader appears. "K'del," is more than a transient address, her eyes following his movements as she continues on with, "I've got this wine from Benden. I was told it's straight from Lord Dorbin's personal collection." Even if he doesn't look at her or stop his procession to his weyr, she holds up the bottle, to inspect in the sunlight. "You should try it-- and this cake too, it's a recipe from Nerat, Aleigha told me." And finally: "I want to talk to you." Okay. So... maybe they do need to talk? K'del's expression shows a brief flurry of emotions before settling on something cautious, but not unpleasant. His hands draw towards his pockets, then fall away to his sides, but after a moment, he steps closer to the young goldrider. "All right," he says, carefully, moistening his lips in a way that speaks more to hesitation than anything gross or sinister, promise. "What's up?" The bottle gets lowered with a hint of disappointment (look at my cool things, K'del). "Can you sit? Do you have a moment? I'm sure you're busy, but this needs-- attention." Farideh could be talking about the cake, but her tone is too serious for that; hopefully. K'del's mouth opens. It closes again. He sits, then, without another word, and says, "The wine looks good. The cake, too. I've some time." 'Attention' is probably not doing much for his wariness over this, but... the lack of hostility is something, at least. Blue eyes study the goldrider. He waits. "Have some," Farideh says, as she nudges the plate closer to the bronzerider. "I want to know-- what exactly did you-- or one of the past weyrwomen?-- do to Monaco's Weyrleader that he hates us so much?" It's plainly spoken, and her hazel eyes settle on K'del, expectant, as she waits for an answer, her hands clasped in her lap. K'del reaches for the cake, but falters, partway, in obvious response to Farideh's question. It takes him a moment to recover, breath sucked in through teeth. Then, he takes his piece of cake, letting it rest upon his knee as he considers the question at hand. "M'kris hates R'hin," he says. "There's bad blood there. But he hates High Reaches, too, because of what happened with Iolene. It was his son who-- he's a hard man, M'kris. Opinionated. Inflexible." "I can understand him getting mad at R'hin. He's not my favorite person either, but--" Farideh's nose scrunches up as she gives the weyrleader's statements some thought. "He's mad at us because his son killed our Weyrwoman? That-- that doesn't make any sense. Are you sure you didn't sleep with his girlfriend? Spit in his klah?" She sounds almost hopeful that isn't something serious. "I was there-- the other day. I met him." "The son did it-- allegedly-- to impress his father." K'del's words are blunt, and yet there's also a note of wryness there. He breaks off a piece of his cake, crumbs spilling over his knee, and turns his gaze back upon Farideh. "Nothing. I--" He hesitates, now. There's something uncomfortable in the way he looks at Farideh. "He was a bastard to you, wasn't he." "What a charming family they are," Farideh replies, without amusement. "I'm lucky he let me leave-- something about killing one of his goldriders-- which is just the opposite-- and he said he might show up for Roszadyth's flight-- they might-- " Her eyes cut to the side, then back, as she sits up a little straighter. "I'm not scared. I just-- don't know what he's going to do or why. He's awfully bad at politics." K'del's silence hovers between them for long seconds, his brow wrinkling, his expression-- not surprised, as such, but wary, and certainly unhappy. "Aishani," he supposes. "That was back when relations were positive between us. Before I'kris. Before R'hin." But more importantly: "He doesn't want to be good at politics. He wants to... throw his weight around. Be the big man. But I promise, I'll make sure you're protected, if he did show up." "It's not like we killed her. It was a storm. That's hardly--" Farideh stops talking and chews on her lip, letting some of her anxiety show, but only for a moment. "Oriane lets him? Everyone lets him? Certainly, there's something someone can do so he's not so-- so--" She makes a waving gesture with her hand, then sighs. "Should I tell Irianke? I know she has a lot to think about already. It's bad enough people think we're going to try to pull in Igen riders to compete, but if Monaco actually shows up for whichever one-- both." "She lets him. She knows... well," K'del lets his mouth twist. "She knows she can't stop him from being an ass, so she lets him play the idiot; for anything important, people go directly to her, I think. There's not much she can do. He's won twice, now. Of course, Oriane is getting older... it may be that Mirinda steps up sooner rather than later." Blue eyes continue to study Farideh, his teeth pressing hard upon his lower lip before he says, "Tell her. I don't think they'll try and steal the flight-- either flight-- but it's better to be prepared than not. I'll make sure our riders are on the look out for any potential issues, just quietly. "It might be the best for the Weyr, if that were to happen, though-- if his son is willing to kill for him, I hesitate to think of what his daughter would." Farideh presses her lips together, displeasure evident all over her face. "Thank you-- that, helps, sort of." She pauses and shrugs, carelessly. "I knew-- I know that goldriders get the short stick sometimes. Traded for wings, or eggs, or--" Their own situation. "But I didn't think anyone would be like that. Openly, unapologetically brazen. What if he had made me stay? He could have. I wasn't with anyone. I wasn't-- and Roszadyth isn't-- ugh." "No, he couldn't have." K'del is quiet, now, but that doesn't mean his words are without vehemence; on the contrary, he's as sure as anything, firm and solid and determined. "Had he tried anything, Roszadyth would have called for help, and help would have arrived. It's true that Weyrs don't interfere in the affairs of others, in general, but-- I would not hesitate to call council. Truthfully, Farideh," he adds, now a little gentler in tone, "My guess is that he wanted to scare you. To dominate and intimidate. I don't think he's stupid enough to try more than that. But... I'd still recommend staying away from Monaco." Those assurances take time to sink in, but in the end, Farideh looks placated. "I got that-- he doesn't want us there. He's--" She shakes her head and makes a face that encompasses all her bad feelings for M'kris. "Thank you, K'del," is kind of awkward, and genuine. "There's not a handbook anywhere on how to deal with this sort of thing. It's good to know that-- just, thank you, I appreciate you--" Her words fade off, but once the realization of what she's said hits her, she hurries to add: "I mean I appreciate you talking to me." It's probably a good thing that this topic is such a serious one; it would, otherwise, be so easy for K'del to do a victory dance, or rub this in: IN YOUR FACE, FARIDEH. Instead, his reply is a simple nod. "Any time," is what he tells her, as he begins climbing back to his feet, cake picked up carefully before he does so. "'long as I'm in this job, it's part of my job. If you ever do need a rescue, just call." Now, though, it might be time for him to leave before this positive interaction turns sour. "As long as you're in this job," Farideh repeats quite cryptically, but since he's leaving instead of partaking of her sunshine-loving tea-party picnic, she waves him off with the one hand before turning back to her books, and cake, and wine. Until the next time. "And maybe always," is equally cryptic, thrown over K'del's shoulder as he makes for his weyr (and the less-sweaty and less-smelly clean clothes that no doubt await within.) |
Comments
Squishy (19:42, 3 August 2015 (PDT)) said...
Bahahaha the In your face....
That aside, I love this interaction between them.
Alida (02:38, 4 August 2015 (PDT)) said...
I WANNA BE IN THE RESCUE PARTY! :D
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