Logs:Being In Charge Sucks
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| RL Date: 7 May, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Irianke |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh sits in on her first meeting and it ends with two goldriders crying in private. |
| Where: Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 9, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Giorda/Mentions |
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| They start small with a meeting where Farideh is asked to sit, make observations, but not speak. Not yet at least. Irianke sits at the head of the council table with a hesitant Giorda at her side and the handful of assistants the Headwoman manages. The agenda is set and written on a chalkboard behind the acting Weyrwoman and each woman presents brief reports of their particular field, be it stores management, the kitchens, the drudges, the laundry etc... "At the end of this month, we'll be rotate duties. I expect each of you to assist each other during this transition." A smile does little to take the pointedness of her look towards one particular assistant. Then the meeting is over and Irianke motions for Farideh to stay with a look and a more direct order through Niahvth to Roszadyth. In the mean time, while everyone else shuffles out, the goldrider makes a few notes on her own notepad. Being told to sit and listen, to sit and be still isn't unusual for Farideh, or at least it might be in recent turns, but it's much the same expectation she grew up on; children are seen and not heard. She is diligent in those aspects, remaining an impassive figure at the table, lending an ear to the words of the headwomen. Emotion only flickers on the rare occasion, and none of it pointed towards the other goldrider or her declarations. It's only when the other women are leaving that her rigidly erect posture deflates some, and she flicks nervous glances towards Irianke, even while she's otherwise occupied by note taking. Her expectation that the Acting Weyrwoman will initiate when to speak next, or at all, is perhaps a shade too obvious. "And so begins your life as a glorified secretary." Irianke sets her pen down and stretches. "It seems all too familiar, doesn't it?" Sympathy is bright in her blue eyes, the look she gives Farideh quite unlike the one granted that devious assistant. "Any strong opinions?" About life? About the job? About the meeting? About... people? All of the less-than-covert glances she'd been giving Irianke all this time are for naught, because when it comes time to look the older woman in the eyes, Farideh can't. She grimaces and looks down, her right hand rubbing her left forearm. "Somewhat-- at least we haven't gone around to the weyrs, changing out the linens and decrying the dcor, or planning the seating arrangement for some sinful soiree--" She sighs, and tries on a reluctant smile, finally lifting her gaze to Irianke. "Nothing strong. Strong as that. I'm not sure wha-- what are you trying to accomplish?" "In what way?" Business Irianke is a far cry from cozied up on the couch with a bottle of wine. Business Irianke has an astute gleam in her eye in her study of Farideh. "What are you unsure of, weyrling?" Color flourishes in the apples of her cheeks, and her mouth works silently before she catches her lip between her teeth and pauses, presumably to gather her rapidly tumbling thoughts. "With-- everything? With-- this? Are you just trying to make the Weyr more-- just-- effective? They say, in the lower caverns, that you're changing things." Why?" Farideh is still, at heart, an inquisitive woman-child. Irianke looks down at her notes for a long time so the room is silent. So silent. Sound resumes with a tap of her fingers against the table and a sigh that brings her face back to training on Farideh's. "Giorda is not an effective Headwoman. Her support staff pays lip service but a few of them know precisely how to push her buttons and make her malleable to what they'd like. Would you keep someone like that in charge?" Silence isn't terrible; silence is certainly better than yelling. "No," Farideh is emphatic. "They should be effective and efficient at their job, and bluntness is preferred to someone afraid of the repercussions. But--" She hesitates, briefly. "I don't want to talk out of turn. It's different for me, even if it's kind of familiar. Do you want High Reaches to be better? To be like Igen? Or are you--" Another hesitation, and she spreads her hands, plaintively. "My uncle was about results, profit, and quality. My father appreciated value and reputation. My mother wanted to leave people wanting more-- of us, of it. Is this just-- to get by? For looks? I don't know what to--" Learning new things is hard, apparently. "Holders," Irianke sounds like she wants to rub the bridge between her eyes, but doesn't. It's complicated and as such she stops and goes on a different track. "High Reaches will never be Igen." This does not necessarily sound like a bad thing. "There's too much spirit that can't be crushed and too much will to survive I am left wondering is because of the hardy temperatures people have to survive up here." The goldrider hesitates and pushes her chair back to stand. "Are you worried what I might do in my two turns before one of our golds rise?" "No," answers multiple questions, and is decidedly strong. "High Reaches won't ever be Igen. No matter how many Igen golds it has, nor Igen weyrwomen." Farideh smashes her hands together, putting them between her knees; maybe to keep them from fidgeting in anxious energy. "I'm not worried. I just want to understand. Is what we do for the betterment of the Weyr? The people? For the Holds? For show? What is it? Why is it?" She seems genuinely in need of an answer, and wears an apprehensive expression as she waits for Irianke's explanation, if there comes one. "Everyone has their motivations. Even you, even me." A smile breaks free of Irianke's somber work expression, livening her striking face and finally relaxing the tension of business from her shoulders. "Is this how you drove your mother crazy?" It would be easy to take offense at Irianke's mirth at her innocent questioning, but Farideh simply sighs and scrunches up her nose at mention of her mother. "No. I wouldn't wear the dresses she wanted me to. I didn't make nice with the right people. I disappeared during important dinners and parties. I stepped on Lord Xanemin's toes once." Her lips quirk at the end, fleetingly. "I like your questions. I may not answer them all, Farideh, but it doesn't mean I haven't thought about each of them." Irianke's smile deepens at the scrunched nose and the other things the goldriding weyrling says. "Do you want the frank answer or the political one?" is asked with the knowing gleam that she suspects she knows which Farideh will pick. There is no hesitation in her answer. "Be frank with me, please," Farideh says. "No bullshit." Irianke promises, arms crossed over her chest and one leg swinging idly forward. "I do it because thems the breaks when you Impress gold. And I gave far too much up even before I realized I was giving it up to do it poorly." The acting Weyrwoman's face is impassive now, the smile having disappeared and she looks to the side rather than at Farideh. "It might not be the popular opinion, but High Reaches, Igen, every Weyr thinks they're special. Unique. Like little snowflakes. I love my job and my dragon. Everything else is just accessories. "So," Farideh draws out the vowel, "you do it because it's what you're supposed to do?" She's wearing a frown, her forehead creased until there's even fine lines between her thin eyebrows. "Just like that?" "Yes." That's the simple answer. Irianke holds out her hands and shrugs. "I am motivated by making sure I do my job well. And we stay at the Weyr because dragons are social creatures. Does it shock you that there's little else to it? Would you like to change that?" That the question is turned around and presented to her, in a different way, gives the short-haired brunette no small surprise. With the frown still in place, she remains quiet for a brief space, and is obviously thinking of what to say next. When she does, it's with less surety. "I think so? I'm not sure. If it can be accomplished. High Reaches is--" Farideh looks sadly to the doorway, then back to Irianke. "Not Igen, but it's my home, and it's my friends' home, and it will be the home of many more people like me and you, forever, and shouldn't I want it to be the best place it can be? For me, for them, for now, for future? More than just complacent that it is the way it is. Shouldn't I?" A flinch happens before the goldrider can squelch it at the word complacent and her expression tightens visibly. "Is it enough?" Irianke asks. "Friends change. Lovers change. People change. Home even changes," says the woman displaced. "Duty remains the same, forever, always. Your dragon remains the same, yours. Is it more or less to be driven by loyalty rather than duty?" "I don't know if it is. I don't think I have enough time or experience behind me to know, but I can't help--" Farideh sighs and eases back in her chair. "Home is where Roszadyth is, I know. We go where-- we're sent. Tomorrow, you and K'del could send me to Telgar, if you wanted, and what could I do? I don't think that would change my feelings. I would still want the best for the people here, and I would try-- I want to try, while I'm here, to make it the place where--" It's hard to maneuver the words, and her expression reflects the internal battle for clarity. "Where they can be safe and happy. I'm coming to the terms that I won't, can't be, ever, except in Roszadyth, but that doesn't mean they can't be." Thoughtful, she glances to Irianke. "Is that silly?" "And the people of Telgar? Would you put them in harms way for your loyalty to the people of High Reaches?" Irianke looks at Farideh, truly just looks at her. "If a situation where Telgar and High Reaches were in a fight for the same Hold," cause that hasn't already happened, "Would you, as Telgar's Weyrwoman, give in because your friends live at High Reaches?" The acting Weyrwoman's arms unfold and her leg stops swinging, she stands and looks past Farideh. "If it were that easy. I'd like a paper on your thoughts on the subject, when we next meet in two sevens. What truly defines what a leader of a Weyr should be and what are the three most important qualities you'd expect in a Weyrwoman and in a Weyrleader." The younger goldrider's face screws up with indecision, regret, and something more challenging to decipher. "No. I don't think--" Except Farideh doesn't get to finish that sentence, that thought pattern, as she follows Irianke's rise and then subsequent assignment-making while standing. "What? Wh-- but--" All those refutations die on her tongue, and instead it's her turn to stare, with her face pale and her eyes wide; she wasn't expecting that of all things. "Fine," is more wearied, less defiant, though it has a hint of insolence. "Farideh." It's just a name. Her name. But Irianke's mellifluous voice wraps it in a verbal hug and chide and gentled remonstrations all at once. She's talented that way. "If you need a quiet place to work, you can use my outer weyr during the day." It may be just a name, but it's got the same effect as Irianke slapping her would. Her face is strained, her posture rigid; even then, she nods deferentially to the goldrider. "Thank you. I'll-- I should-- do you need me to do anything else?" Farideh lifts her gaze from where it had sunk to the tabletop, barely containing the roiling emotion in her eyes. And in that moment, Irianke might understand her former mentor all the better, the stricken look that might claim her face otherwise held back by sheer resolve. She nods, allowing Farideh's departure, wordless now. Gathering up what little remains of her pride and dignity, Farideh scrapes back her chair, offering another nod and a tight smile to Irianke. She takes no time in leaving, moving quickly from the council room to whatever lies outside; by sheer force of will, she doesn't break down until she's well away from the auspicious room and its legacy. |
Comments
Alida (04:09, 8 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
Poor Farideh... it's now that she truly starts realizing the 'trap' that sweet, innocent Roszadyth is for her. ;)
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