Logs:Deep Truths
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| RL Date: 2 September, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, Vienne |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aishani and Vienne catch up on recent events on a rainy afternoon. |
| Where: Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 9, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jo/Mentions, Ienavi/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Minor edits made for retcon on 09/03. |
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| There's only so long that summer can last at High Reaches before it's wet and cold and muddy again, and though it's one of the first wet and cold and muddy days, people aren't acting like it. The nighthearth is still something of a haven from dripping coats and muddy boots, usually taken care of by the time one reaches it, and there's not a lot of people occupying it besides. There's a couple of older women chatting quietly over their knitting, a young crafter scribbling notes, Aishani at the table picking over what looks like a late lunch from the kitchens, watching the fire. Vienne comes in as her usual doll of a self, a little messier today: her a-line coat damp at the shoulders, her boots still a bit muddy despite some obvious effort to scrape them off along the way, her hat doing little to keep the chilled pink from her cheeks and plenty to leave her hair full of flyaways when she pulls it off. There's a book protected under her arm, or mostly so, and her eyes skim the hearthside area, likely for a good place to curl up and read, but instead what she finds is Aishani, and a smile comes to her face as she moves to join her table, pulling out the opposite chair and setting her book down. "What deep truths does the fire have for you today?" After a moment or two, Aishani glances over to Vienne, though surely she's noticed her by now; "That I should have asked for more cheese." That's dryly amused, but as she glances down to her plate, there is in fact more bread than cheese left. What a tragedy. "Though I imagine I was probably pushing it a bit as is. Reading anything interesting? I'd comment on the weather, but..." A grimace, an eloquent little shrug. It's terrible, why belabor the point. Vienne's smile quirks aside, "How disappointing," she tsks, her tone almost as droll as Aishani's. "I'll just put my back to it. I don't need truths like that." And so she does, primly tucking herself into the seat so the hearth can warm and dry the back of her coat, the damp curls of hair about her shoulders. She tucks her hat into her pocket. "It's light. A little Holder-style romance. The big dashing bronzerider, the naive but feisty young hold girl, the unwanted marriage. All of that. I'm not sure it's interesting, but... It's relaxing." 'Unlike the weather' goes unspoken, but maybe it's their in the odd little expression she wears, the tip of her head and the hand that tries to fix what the hat has done to her hair. "How have things... been?" Long time no see, and all that. "Maybe it's just off, or too workman a fire for any interesting truths. Perhaps the forge, or the craft complex fire, the hearths at the Halls." Aishani tries to think of more oracle-fires, but gives up in favor of her hard-won cheese. Not so hard-won that she won't nudge the plate Vienne's way with a questioning arch of brows. After her bite, "I suppose it's nice to read something light now and then. And... I suppose unwanted marriages are so common that it's escapist to imagine a way out of them." Sad, says the purse of her lips. As for how things have been, she tweaks her own curls, a little less glossy than usual for the humidity, then allows, "Busy, which isn't terrible. A bit... concerned about certain situations. And Iesaryth seems to be taking her time, which is fine but... disconcerting in same ways. How about you? Beyond your romance reading?" "I've seen many a person in deep congress with that fire." Vienne doesn't even take a quick glance back at the flames, she just smile across at Aishani as she settles back in her chair to make herself comfortable. But the dip of the goldrider's expression wipes the casual amusement from Vienne's face. "Concerned?" Perhaps she doesn't really know, or perhaps she can just think of too many potentially concerning things to pick just one. "I doubt there's any need to be worried about her. Dragons always do seem to live by some current we can never quite understand. She's hardly overdue, in the grand scheme of things." But she'll flash a smile meant to be encouraging anyway, one that fades at the end. "Not well, really. I've been with an old friend who is... passing." There's a sideways dip of her head. It is what it is. "Perhaps we'll need to take a poll then. See if anyone's gotten more than regrets over lunch out of it." Aishani's not too concerned though, just seems content enough to be warmed and have both food and company. "Ah, there's a few worrisome rumors about Nabol's succession floating around, and the fact that they haven't gotten on with it. There was also a bit of nasty business Fort way." She glances Vienne's way, curious to see what the bluerider knows before she'll fill in the blanks. With a faint smile, "I don't worry so much as worry that it will be sprung upon me inconveniently. I suppose it's never actually convenient." Even that trace fades from her expression as she offers sincerely, "I'm sorry for that. Though glad you could spend the time." There's a twitch of interest on Vienne's brow, but at least not the confusion that would suggest she has no clue at all what Aishani's talking about. Just, sparse clues, perhaps. As for her friend, "It's strange. I suppose, in some ways, you just don't know don't know when life will spring itself on you, and who will be there to share it with." Or, in her case, death. But perhaps it can be taken to apply to the gold's mysterious cycles as well. Who needs a fire! Finally, now that the warmth is soaking in, the bluerider starts to unbutton her jacket. "What's the latest news?" Picking at some more cheese, "I suppose that's true enough. It all seems a bit random sometimes." Aishani could be talking about either topic, or both as well, giving a little grimace for that lack of control. How dare life not shift at the goldrider's command! As for the latest news, "There's been rumors of some of the contenders for heir at Nabol gathering forces, which isn't all that good. Jo was saying there's some sentiment around the Weyr that we ought to be involved beyond ensuring we get our tithe. And... it doesn't seem it's gotten here yet, but--" She drops her tone slightly to add beyond the hearing of the others by the hearth, "The missing Lady Nabol is at Healer Hall." "Last I'd heard, it seemed rather... simple, no? The oldest son stepping up to fill his late father's knot?" But Vienne purses her lips together, her eyes going left, the right, admitting she might not have any idea what she's talking about. "Or maybe that was just the last book," slips out with a nod toward the volume on the table and a sheepish bit of a smile. "It's good that the Lady turned up. It was disconcerting that something might have happened to her. That would certainly have added a twist to things." Not a funny or entertaining twist, but a twist worth of a more serious frown. "I think I need some klah. You?" She shifts in her seat, ready to stand though not with any sign that she intends to leave the conversation. "There's a bit of debate about that. The eldest son is... elderly. And there's a fair number of possible heirs, including the one Lady Ienavi's about to give birth to. She'd... She is worried something might happen to her." There's more Aishani would say, but if Vienne needs some klah now, she'll wait. "Please. If you don't mind. Black is fine." She's more fidgeted with her bread than eaten it in the meantime, tearing it into little pieces, waiting for the other woman to complete her mission and sit down before continuing the conversation. "Something happened to their posted Harper. He was killed. I'm... beginning to wonder if a wing posted there might not be the worst idea." Vienne's face scrunches up in disbelief. "Who would make a fetus the heir?" But the answers will have to wait until she's back, and she does make quick work of slapping some cups of klah together, returning to the table with freshly filled mugs and daintily dropping back into her seat. With a jerk of her weight, she attempt to pull the chair in closer. "Something happened to the Harper posted at Nabol? 'Something'? What does the Lady say about things?" Interested as she is, she hurries a sip of klah only to burn her tongue, which of course merits a face at the mug. Dryly, "Maybe the late Lord Nabol liked his child-to-be more than any of his children that were living." Aishani can imagine that at this point, by her tone. With a nod and grin of thanks for the mug, she draws it closer to warm her hands, even though she's likely not all that chilled. "The Lady says," she tells Vienne, glancing across the table significantly, "That he was murdered before he was able to pass on certain documents and information. There's no body found yet, as far as I know. She was understandably concerned, so... 'disappeared'." With help, apparently. "I don't like the idea of people just killing inconvenient Harpers." "And he liked the idea of a steward taking care of the Hold for the forseeable future? Seems silly to bother keeping it in the family if he feels so strongly that his family isn't worthy." Still, as Vienne listens, there's a touch of distance coming to her gaze, sending it far far away without going anywhere at all. Murder, documents, whatever else her musing little mind has to mull over. But her attention comes back to the present with a straightening of her shoulders. "No, I should say not. Hopefully he's no more dead than the Lady herself has turned out to be." She tries to sip away the bad taste left in her mouth. "Mm. Unless it's some way to leave it to the Lady, but... can you do that? To be honest, some of the intricacies of this are a bit beyond me. I wasn't really taught much about how it all works when I was young." Why would Aishani be, really. And though she doesn't ask Vienne what she's thinking, the former Harper's thoughts are clearly of interest, her sharp gaze on the other woman's expression. After chancing a sip from her mug, she knocks the wood of the tabletop, nodding. "He might be in hiding as well." She's hopeful, at least. "The Lord at Boll's passed away too, apparently. I wonder why the Conclave has said nothing when they're dropping like flies." "Maybe it's a conspiracy," Vienne supposes with a bounce of her eyebrows that takes any seriousness out of her comment. "Really, though, I'm just wondering who has the most to gain, to lose. What the simplest explanation could be. I'm not sure it's really the Weyr's place to interfere with the transference of a Hold, but... the missing Harper is concerning. I haven't been to the Hall much lately," she admits with a purse of lips. "Perhaps I should check in." Amused, "I usually think that. If certain parties take advantage, it'll definitely seem like it." Aishani doesn't seem to really slot Nabol into the conspiracy column though, shaking her head. "No, I wouldn't like to see us properly involved, though I've heard there's some interest. I think a few dragons might give pause to anyone thinking of bloodshed, if they're recruiting guard-types. Though, for what it's worth," and by her expression, it might not be much, "No one else has died." Yet. "I never think it's a bad idea to check in. You'd certainly hear more than most of us might." "Or a few dragons might encourage the need for gaurds. But perhaps that's just... too many turns of watching the trouble with Tillek and High Reaches and Holders who are given toward a certain... penchant to escalate?" Vienne teeters her head, eyes swept innocently upward. "Is Boll's seat a point of contention also or do they have a smoother transition ahead of them?" The flash of a smile, though, might mean she doesn't actually need an answer for that one. Instead, she's curious, fingers idly scratching behind her ear as she cants her head. "What does your gut tell you? About Nabol?" Ruefully, "Fair enough. It's difficult to say. What might make one person think twice might just make another person... nervous. And it seems like someone's already quick to... problem-solve there." Looking down into her klah now, perhaps for answers that the fire isn't giving, Aishani notes, "It seems it should be simpler there, but it's not really our problem." It's Fort's, for better or worse. Looking up, she considers for a few moments before, "Definitely that there's nothing to be gained by being involved. I'm not sure who should get what, but I'd rather not see anyone die over it. Anyone else." Vienne has a slow, thoughtful nod as Aishani runs through her instincts on the matter, twisting her cup back and forth between her fingers. "I'm not sure I'd assume there's nothing to be gained -- a little more unity might not be the worse thing that ever happened -- but I agree that it's hardly something the Weyr should step in. But the harper does sound like another matter and I'm getting the sense that it's not something Nabol is taking seriously. Whether that means that there's no reason to believe foul play, or that foul play goes rather high up the chain..." But she shakes her head. "Conspiracy," she says with eyes widening and an apologetic smile. "I really just... I don't know enough about it, I suppose. Perhaps the Conclave will settle it and it will all be... dealt with in time." She gives her back a little stretch and reaches for her book. A few downcast blinks might make it seem like it's all beyond her, at least under her present circumstances. With a faint, sad smile for the harper in question, Aishani agrees, "I don't think finding him... or ensuring his safety, at least, is very high on their list of priorities. I suppose it might not be right now, but I might be concerned, were I posted there." Shrugging after she takes a sip, "I suppose there's only one story versus the other, much like the issue of succession. And yes, but as I said. I'm likely to think someone planning something nefarious." Flashing a brief smile, she notes after, "I hope someone does." Reaching for her jacket with the hand not wrapped around her mug, "I think I'll go see if the rain has let up at all, though I somehow doubt it. And let you get back to something less... grim." The book, presumably. "You're probably right," Vienne admits. "It's unpleasant to consider, but... It does sound like someone has been, as you said, quick to problem-solve." And that does have the little bluerider frowning. "If I have a chance, I'll see if I can learn anything. I doubt I can be much help but..." She shrugs her thin shoulders in the fit of her coat and smiles a bit more shyly toward Aishani, and perhaps a bit grateful both for the information and the break from it, given the recent stresses she's been under. "I'll let you know how it goes," she says, tipping the book up from the table. "But I have a feeling he'll get the girl and they'll all live happily ever after." Which sounds like a very nice contrast, even if it's a work of fiction. "You've always been a great help in the past," Aishani points out as she rises, throwing her jacket over one shoulder. "And I think that's what we all hope for more or less. Otherwise, we wouldn't be reading the books. I'll see you soon, Vienne." And though the goldrider might not seem like much of a fiction reader, maybe that's what she's off to do -- if she can brave the driving rain of fun time autumn. |
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