Logs:Of Placing Trust
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| RL Date: 8 October, 2006 |
| Who: M'wen, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 5, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 17:09 on day 26, month 5, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring afternoon. You stride into the storerooms. Central Storerooms(#17755RJM) Though certain of the Weyr's supplies are stored at the places where they are used, most are kept here, in the central storage complex. A series of caverns grouped around a central corridor, the complex is cut on the grand scale necessary to hold all the items a full and active Weyr needs. You're currently in the main corridor, wide and tall enough to admit a laden wagon. The walls are lined with heavy wooden doors, their wide spacing evidence of the size of the rooms behind them. Each of the doors features a posted inventory and map of its room's contents, and there are small piles of returned items beside several, waiting until someone has the time to reshelve them properly. There is a set of hardwood shelves available on a space of wall between two of the doors where people can place items when they are not sure which storeroom they belong in. Scanning the door signs, you note cold stores, dry food stores, rooms for textiles and furnishings, the records room, and the supply closet. To the south, the corridor opens out to the lower caverns. There is nobody here with you. (Places code and +views (see '+view information'!) are implemented here.) Obvious exits: Lower Caverns M'wen strides in from the lower caverns. M'wen has arrived. It's nearing dinner time, the scent of tonight's food already drifting out throughout the Weyr and drawing diners into the living caverns. It should be no surprise that R'hin's nowhere near there, as apt as he is to avoid the larger crowds. The Weyrleader is, instead, ensconced in the records room, a glowbasket casting light across the table on which are spread a number of piles of hides. Sleeves rolled up, the scruffy-haired rider's bending over the table, muttering under his breath, looking rather tired. Taking advantage of the emptiness of the storage rooms, M'wen strides in, glancing in rooms in a seemingly random pattern. Seeing them empty, or just not who he's looking for, the brownrider continues on towards the end of the corridor. Looking in the Records room as he had every other, a familiar person greets his vision, enticing a comment. "R'hin." It's not a question, just a statement. R'hin glances up briefly, sees who it is, and beckons M'wen inside. "Shut the door," he says, voice low, but the brownrider knows him well enough to detect the thread of anger in quiet voice, and the tense lines of his body as he straightens, tossing one of the hides back onto the table in abrupt disgust. M'wen silently complies, seeing now isn't the time to make a flippant remark. The door shuts closed quietly as he walks deliberately over to the bronzerider. Leaning on the edge of the table he regards the Weyrleader with a searching gaze, not looking to break the silence, willing the bronzerider to explain. He doesn't need any encouragement on that score; as if picking up a conversation in the middle of something, R'hin says: "I'm looking for records of old training tactics post-pass. Surely I can't be the only one that... did you know that one of Igen's assistant weyrlingmaster makes their weyrlings write essays as punishment?" The segue is abrupt, half spoken through gritted teeth, "-Essays-, M'wen. I can't think of anything that's a biggest waste of time, resources, and potential!" He's very close to roaring by this point, obviously worked up, and just the reason he asked for the door to be closed. "It's like they're purposely figuring out the best way to crush the spirit and individuality of all new riders. It kills me, wise man. It really does." He's visibly agitated, turning away from the table to pace the very short space between the table and the first shelf of records. "You just answered your own question didn't you?" M'wen replies, a level voice to not incite more anger in the Weyrleader. "No one else thinks of this because they -do- crush the spirit and individuality of riders, making those individuals who attempt such heretical endevours to be put in the scorn of the others." He glances to the hides scattered across the table, trying to read what it says, but failing from the size of the writing. "Maybe he assumed essays to be able to enhance the mind, making the weyrlings more intelligent, thus being more able to lead and judge situations? It does seem illogical, but writing doesn't convey intentions, and sometimes, they may be a bit obscure, but it's meant for the best." He has retained the level voice the whole time, only raising it to express a stress on a point, trying to settle R'hin's agitation. There's a sharp exhale of breath from R'hin, followed by dark chuckle, throwing a glance over his shoulder at M'wen. "You're a very difficult person to argue with, you know that?" The words are intended as compliment, his agitation far less, but still tense as he paces back to the table. The hides just look like the standard report of Weyrlingmasters past on the progress of their weyrling classes. "She. Maybe," he concedes, grudgingly, "The way she was treating the weyrling dragons like they were canines to be trained was..." he trails off as his voice rises in pitch again, trying to catch himself. "Nevermind. Igen is not my problem. High Reaches is." His hand waves over the scattering of hides. "All useless. Nothing about techniques. A lot is riding on our new Weyrlingmaster." M'wen gives a wry grin, taking the comment in stride. "That's why you talk with me isn't it?" The brownrider absently shuffles a few of the hides nearest him around to view them, but doesn't actually seem to take any of the information in. "Igen isn't so different then here, so we should assume there will be those here that have the same ideals and thought processes as her, no reason to not be prepared." He lets out a low chuckle, "Speaking of the new weyrlingmaster, I had the pleasure of meeting him not to long ago." "If there are essays, they could at least be on how to improve the Weyr in the Interval." R'hin's tone is bland, so it's difficult to tell if he's being facetious or not. With a tired sigh, he rubs at his eyes, sinking down into one of the chairs and gesturing vaguely for M'wen to follow suit. The other's words lift his head in sudden attentiveness, "You did? What did you think?" "Well you didn't tell me what they were on, so it makes it hard to judge." M'wen replies with a faint air of jest. Sitting down in the offered chair, he stretches slightly, before turning his gaze to the Weyrleader. "Well, we insulted each other, he was suspicious of my intentions, we hurled mindless threats at one another and we talked about you. So in other words, I think he'd be perfect." The brownrider adds the last part with a chuckle steady gaze on R'hin to gauge the reaction, "Though I think I may have gone a bit to far in comparing him to Melata." "-She- didn't tell me what they were on, but pointless does seem to be the watchword of weyrling training." R'hin notes, wry. His brow furrows throughout M'wen's words, leaning abruptly back in his seat, surprise and alarm flickering across his features. "You -insulted- him? And... Faranth, you compared him to Melata?" A beat, before a hearty chuckle follows, the Weyrleader amused. "M'wen, I fear you're growing more and more like me every day." Though the words have an air of facetiousness to them, there's a sharpness of pale eyes that suggests concern. "I'm glad you think he's perfect, though. It eases my mind." "It was more friendly banter then anything..." M'wen pauses briefly, "At least I hope he saw it as that." He can't help but grin, while letting out a small bark of a laugh. "This is the second time in too short of a time that I've been told that I'd be sent to do watch duty for a small cothold." Giving a brief sigh, M'wen's face grows more serious, "He can understand the now of things as opposed to the past, and this is exactly what we want in one to train the next generation, showing them that outdated traditions will do nothing but continue a never ending spiral of events." The brownrider mentions nothing of the comparison between the two, though whether or not personal, it can't be told. "Well think of it like this," R'hin says with a grin, "You can spend your time at the small cothold thinking up ways to change things for the better. Give it time, my friend, and the only one who'll be able to order you to such bland, pointless punishments will be me - and you know how I feel about that sort of thing." A glint of eyes as lips curl upwards. A slow exhale follows, a hint of relief at M'wen's judgement of their new Weyrlingmaster. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Thank you." M'wen raises an eyebrow at R'hin's comment, clearly thinking the remark through his head, but not willing to comment on it. "The truth is, I doubt that either of them would actually do it, I'daur especially. Though I have had watch duty at the weyr three times since I've joined Melata's wing." He adds the statistic with almost a proud air about him, though a wry grin suggests little interest in watch duty at a cothold. "Oh, trust me. Melata would do it. She's just that spiteful," R'hin concludes. "I don't think she's said a word to me that hasn't involved her turning her nose up while she's doing it. Actually, it's somewhat entertaining," the bronzerider concludes, fingers tapping against his lip in contemplation. "Have you-- have you spoken to the lady of the spires since the flight?" There's an odd note to his tone. Concern, maybe. M'wen hmms softly, looking to be considering the Weyrleaders words. "This is true indeed, I'm surprised I haven't all ready, but maybe my 'connections' scare her off from making me go off to some far away cot hold." he laughs at the word connections, a merry glint in his eye. "That I have, though only once, she seemed...distant, though that could have had as much to do with the setting." "She's probably waiting to do it in front of a crowd. That seems to be her usual manner of discipline," one which R'hin clearly disapproves. A slight frown follows at M'wen's words, fingers steepling together as the bronzerider's head tips. "The setting?" he prompts, obviously looking for further information. "I heard," a curl of lips, "You had quite the altercation with our itinerant, too. You never mentioned!" he accuses. M'wen nods, a regretful expression on his face as he runs a hand through his hair with a pained look on his face. "Well at least you probably won't forget me there, I'd be sure to teach the folk there about drowning puppies and the deeds of the 'Reaches Weyrleader." The pained expression fades to one of humour, the remark most definately facetious. "The setting? Well we were enjoying an evening under the stars on the star stones," the expression of humour still much in evidence. "It seemed unimportant at the time, you do not need to know of everytime I stand up for you." A pleased chortle comes from R'hin as he rolls up some of the hides, pushing up from the table to begin reshelving them. "One day, I'd like to disguise myself and hear exactly what everyone's saying about me." A beat, as he glances over his shoulder, though he lets the topic of the youngest weyrwoman slide. "I don't need to know, but-- thank you." Pale eyes wait settle on M'wen, waiting to catch his gaze before he nods, then resumes reshelving. "So, Telgar also has a Weyrleader just out of weyrlinghood. I went to see him. He seems... he has potential," he concludes. "I'd like to go see Fort's Weyrleader, too. If I can manage it without being lynched." M'wen can't help but let a low chuckle escape him, "It was much more mundane then I made it sound, no need to feel threathened." The remark seems to be directed at R'hins dismissal of the topic of the weyrwoman. "It seems to be know that we're in league, and I haven't been told any of the gossip either, so that seems to be one of the only courses of action to follow." He gazes to the Weyrleader, eyes glazed over in thought, "You should develop ties with the other Weyrleaders, despite your assurance that this is for the 'Reaches only, it will benefit us all." "I always feel threatened by the lady of the spires." R'hin's back is turned as he slides away another hide, so it's a little more difficult than usual to tell if he's being honest or not. A curve of lips follows as he paces back to the table. "In league with me, huh? How does that feel?" the slight pause that follows might indicate the question has more weight than the casual manner in which it was delivered would suggest. He nods, briefly, agreement. "Telgar is at least open to communication. From what I've heard of Igen's acting Weyrleader, he'd be less so. Fort... I'm not sure it's worth it, but I'll still try." Ista goes unmentioned entirely. "Benden's too closed off, but I'll try to speak to their Weyrleader, anyway." Not being able to tell the seriousness of the remark, M'wen asks, "You feel threathened by -Satiet-?" He stresses the weyrwomans name, though for what reason, it's unknown. "In all truth, I'm probably saving alot of the weyr plenty of grief. You have changed so much since we first argued as candidates, and I'd like to think I helped in that." He pauses briefly, his tone modest. Nodding softly at the list, "And what about Ista? Or have you decided to let them stick to their Isolationist policies?" "I'd be doing her a disservice if I underestimated her by not," R'hin answers, sober, serious. "She can... she's very talented in getting what she wants. Which is well and good for now, since her desires and my vision coincide. I worry about what will happen when the two don't." Arms fold across his chest, gaze somewhat distant as he considers, before M'wen's remark of himself earns a low chuckle. "You've helped more than you realize, wise man." A beat, before he exhales. "Ista. I don't know. I suppose I should at least see how amenable the Weyrleader is. I don't know that much about him, except that he sired a clutch with Josilina before she was Weyrwoman. Maybe you could ask around a little, and I'll do the same?" "I'd be lying to say that Satiet isn't manipulative, though I have yet avoided becoming anyone's pawn." M'wen replies, expression calm, though with a serious note not there before. "I just wish we didn't have to think of others who are -helping- us as future obstacles..." He considers the proposal before replying, "I'll see what I can do, we never know where an Ally may spring up." A low chuckle precedes R'hin's dry comment, "Well, in the future, -she- will be Weyrwoman. And, with any luck, I'll once more fall into obscurity. I'll be able to help more, then." Running a hand through his hair, lips curve, "Precisely. The itinerant mentioned some of the Fort weyrlings had... interests not dissimilar to my own. It might be worth speaking to some of them. Maybe we'll even find our future Weyrleader-diplomat for Satiet." "Well, if we go back to the random winner of flights, finding a Weyrleader will achieve nothing as he has as much chance as any other rider to catch Teonath. I also assume Satiet would probably not appreciate us trying to set up a rider to catch her." M'wen replies, a wry look on his face. "So, Bayan has his uses after all then eh?" M'wen can't help but let out a low laugh. "The Weyr -needs- a diplomat. Even Josilina understands that. And, according to her, the Weyrleader is who the Weyr needs." R'hin's shoulders shift. "If my elevation isn't evidence enough... E'tyn becoming Weyrleader of Telgar certainly supports the need for change, to retire to the old guard." A slight exhale of brief, half laughter, "It doesn't matter whether she appreciates it or not - she's already made it clear she doesn't." So it seems the topic is not a first between the Weyrleader and Satiet. A twitch of lips follow, "In some ways. Though I suspect it was his brother's influence that lead to the imparting of information as anything. I haven't seen him since I became Weyrleader. Do you think he's avoiding me?" the last asked with amusement in his voice. "Yes, but whatever it is you say lets a dragon win a flight for the good of the weyr, how do we know that setting up what we think is a good rider with Satiet is for the good of the weyr?" M'wen asks, a faint glimmer visible in his eyes. "And if Satiet -doesn't- want to get set with a Weyrleader, what reason does she have to follow your plan if you've shown nothing but aims for personal gain?" His somber expression is lifted slightly at the mention of Bayan adding only, "What do you think?" "I can always count on you to show the glaring flaw in my plan," R'hin remarks darkly, exhaling and rubbing at his eyes. "I don't know, M'wen. But I do know we've yet to find the diplomats we need. Josilina says that's the job of the Weyrleaders and Weyrseconds, but I disagree. We need people out there--" his hand flings out to indicate the area outside the Weyr, "--that's where the battle will be won and lost." A beat, then, "What do I think? I think he'd never admit it if he was. Kamer implied he was furious." There's a slight tensing afterwards, as he remembers that's one particular meeting he hasn't mentioned. "But, you'd know better than me what Bayan thought." "Even the best laid plans have problems and only sheer luck can pull use through to success." M'wen replies, an almost sad tone to his voice. "Many out there-" He as well gestures in a general sense outside the weyr, "-probably have never even seen a dragonrider, let alone a Weyrleader or Weyrsecond. As long as we have no support from the normal people of pern, your plan will never succeed, and we'll never get the support -unless- your plan succeeds." He pauses, looking to want to say more, but holding his tounge. "Exactly. Yes!" R'hin agrees wholeheartedly, pleased as ever with the agreement, pushing up again to pace the small space of the room. "We did the tour of Pern, M'wen - why not do a tour of our coverage area, too? Go to some of the smaller holds and cotholds. Get opinions from the mouth's of those who we're trying to win over?" Wry, "Assuming you have time between your oh-so-important duties to your Wingleader." He frowns a little at M'wen's, though enthusiasm doesn't dim by much as pale eyes settle on the brownrider. "You were going to say something. I'm the last person you need to hold your tongue around." "Yeah, maybe we can make the holders drop some of their ideas about dragonriders so that they -won't- be opposed to tithing until our self sufficiency becomes complete...If it does that is." M'wen says with barely contained excitment. "Oh don't worry about her, I'll just make sure not to be in the same room with her if there's a crowd." He gives a long, contemplative gaze at R'hin, choosing his words carefully, "I said I'd help do whatever needs doing to make this work but, I don't know if it will, I have my doubts. My biggest one is with Satiet at the moment, and if you think about it, you'll see..." An appreciative chuckle bespeaks R'hin's amusement at the comment about Melata, eyes shining with excitement matched by his companions. He sobers fairly quickly, however, smile fading at the brownrider's words, stopping by his chair, hands resting against the back as he considers. "It's a leap of faith, wise man. The lady of the spires will be in charge, and we have to believe she'll do what's best for the Weyr. -I- believe she'll do what's best for the Weyr, because I know she's ambitious. She wants High Reaches to be the most progressive, most affluent, the -best-. I believe in her. I have to." "But who's using who? You seem to think of her as nothing by a playing piece in a game, just arbitrarily assuming who you'd think would make a good Weyrleader for her, even when she doesn't want to go along with it." M'wen takes a breth before continuing, "And then Satiet, she-is- ambitious, and could just be using you to gain her own power, making you HER playing piece. I...don't know if we can trust, but I truly wish we can." He gazes at R'hin with a frown, a sad tilt to his eyes. "That... I do not know," R'hin grimaces, exhaling. "I think we're using each other, which seems about right. As long as we both get what we want..." he trails off, hands spreading helplessly. Pale eyes are even, guarded. "I've already placed my trust her," he says, simply. "If this was a sure thing, we wouldn't have any sleepless nights. Heroes," he smiles, a little, "Do what needs to be done, regardless of the cost. We have to trust, or what else would we do?" "I wish with all my heart that I could," M'wen sighs, the pained expression returning, "but we already have so man variables that can go wrong, nad adding the human element makes it harder and harder to assume." He rubs his left eye, running the same hand through his hair, "Are we heroes?" There's a hint of disappointment in pale eyes, but R'hin nods slowly, accepting. "We all have our roles to play," is all he says. As to the latter, he offers a tired smile, "That depends on whether we succeed or not. Heroes," again he smiles, briefly, as if quoting someone else, "Are rarely thought of well in their lifetime." "And what should happen if we fail?" M'wen asks, expression guarded, but with a silent pleading for an answer. "Things are diferent now, every dragon rider is expected to aim to be a good follower until they can achieve leadership, find a weyrmate, settle down, follow the beaten path. We are chopping haphazardly through the jungle of the unknown hoping to end up at the oasis instead of into the jaws of some unnamed beast." "Cothold watching for a lifetime?" R'hin guesses, wryly. "And you have it wrong. You say we. There's a reason it pains me when I hear you behave like me. You need just enough distance for deniability. You, Satiet, Maja, you will all be free and clear, if things don't work out for the best." A curve of lips, "On the bright side, no dragonrider has been exiled, except being sent to Southern, and I can handle the warm weather." Despite light tones, there's a tenseness to his body that bespeaks seriousness. "When I say we, I mean we. I've commited myself to you, and that's the way its going to stay, though I'll try my best to keep you from falling." M'wen replies, a slight vehemence to his voice. "I don't care what happens to me anymore, I've come to terms with this the second I became a dragonrider, and this won't change. But I do care about the others, Satiet, Tavrie, Maja, all of them still have long futures achieving great things, but if we fail it won't happen. Us being exiled? That is no problem, but the fact that the weyr would revert to the way it was before, making sure individuality and creative are stomped flat whenever they rear their ugly head." He closes his eye's holding in his emotion on the subject, "This is what I hope to prevent, and I refuse to let the blame slide to you and go away free from everything but guilt." R'hin's fingers tightening around the chair's back, a faint creak of wood and whitening of knuckles testimony to the sudden pressure. "But who's to keep -you- from falling?" he retorts, just as vehement. Pale eyes are still guarded, but there's a slight wavering, a hint of relief, of gratitude, of apology. "I don't want this for you. The blame -should- lie with me. That's how I planned it. -You- have nothing to be guilty for. You've done nothing wrong." A beat, lips pulled back into a grimace, "Except, for some reason, putting your trust in me." "I have those who keep me from falling, do not worry about that." M'wen responds, a faint look of gratitude at R'hin's reaction. "Yes, the blame -should- lie with you, but that's not the way I am. It may just end up you've been using me this entire time, but I trust you, for whatever reason, and won't let you go down without a fight!" He cletches his jaw in determination, a brief pause before, "Your worried that your past will catch up with you? Put it behind you, you're a different person now, as long as you believe that you are." A slow exhale and a loosening of fingers, R'hin's voice quiet, honest: "I'm not using you. If I was, it wouldn't matter to me what happened to you... and your opinion wouldn't matter... but it does, on both counts." Silence, as he watches M'wen for a short while, surprised by the other's vehemence, bolstered by it, too. "I'm worried about many things. My... past, too. For good or ill, I'm tied to this Weyr. And it to me, for now." "I didn't think you were, but anything is possible these days, and something I hope to avoid is being used as a pawn in a twisted game...Which happens to be one of the reasons I'm wary of Satiet." M'wen untenses, the strong words now said. "Don't fall bad on old way's R'hin, you -are- tied to the weyr, and that would be the worst thing possible to do." "Satiet can only use you if she can twist you around her finger. If you're wary of her, you're probably safe." R'hin pauses, eyes glittering as if some thought's come to him abruptly. "I will see what I can do about it, though." Hands slide along the back of the chair, then drop to his sides. "I know, more than anyone. Why do you think I told you not to let me near Bitra?" A slow breath, gaze distant for a beat. "I'm needed in the council chambers. M'wen... we won't fail. We can't." It's as if he believes by sheer strength of will he can make it so. He turns towards the door, then pauses before opening it, quietly: "Thank you." |
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