Logs:Reporting In
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| RL Date: 21 June, 2014 |
| Who: K'del, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and R'hin catch up. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 1, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Devaki/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Tevrane/Mentions |
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| Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr A rustic and unadorned vestibule leads in from hewn spiral steps to a refitted ledge, enclosed by limestone pillars. Sturdy wooden framework captures elongated glass panes, tilted to absorb the most light during the day. The wash of heat from within, lush and humid, persists even into the dead of winter; the air is heady with the scent of fresh-turned soil and various flora. Long, deep troughs of soil line the inner stone wall, planted with an assortment of broad, leafy tropicals - practical and decorative alike. Fruit and vegetable baskets hang from rafters, optimizing space, tempting in reach with a perpetually ripening harvest. A series of stone shelving is devoted to flourishing, aromatic herbs and new green shoots; even the softest touch releases a burst of savory scent from tender leaves. Amidst the greenery, a handful of wooden benches have been scattered, making this a temptingly warm and secluded spot to sit. Shuttered vents serve to regulate humidity and heat given off from a small hot spring recessed into an alcove at the back; a secondary pool with cooler waters siphons off to provide a constant, fresh supply for irrigation. A small potting station nearby is cluttered with watering cans and gardening tools of various uses, with a wooden bin for composting materials tucked underneath. The weather outside is freezing, driving rain making venturing outside a determined or needful decision rather than an optional one. Inside the greenhouse, however, it's still humid, but a hot humid more reminiscent of Monaco. Perhaps that's why R'hin's here, and why Leiventh informed Cadejoth not-very-casually of that fact. The Savannah Wingleader's hair is dark and wet against his forehead, but he's found comfortable bench to lounge on while he waits. The Greenhouse is not often one of K'del's haunts, and perhaps that's obvious in the way he sniffs so curiously at the air as he enters, closing the door behind him. "Well," he says, blue eyes seeking R'hin out through the greenery. "Guess you've found the one place in High Reaches - except the baths, I guess - that'll remind anyone of Monaco." He shucks off his jacket, meandering down through the rows of plants to join the other bronzerider on his bench. R'hin's chuckling under his breath, pale eyes tracking K'del's approach. "The baths are far too packed tonight. And besides, it gets... distracting." In perhaps a good way, the sudden smile suggests. "How is Cadejoth?" It's the polite question to ask, and while he's interested in the answer, the cold touches of Leiventh's thoughts to Cadejoth since the flight suggests he's been keeping a close track. "'Distracting,'" repeats K'del, smirkily amused. He dumps his jacket onto the ground near his feet, managing to avoid it landing upon any plants, but otherwise not seeming to much care where it ends up. "They'll let him start moving the wing again, soon. Short practice flights in a bit, working into more sustained stuff. It's good; you know what he's been like." The whole Weyr knows what Cadejoth has been like. "I'll be glad to have my own transport back, even ignoring the rest." "Mmhmm." R'hin's grin is brief, making a bit of a face as K'del speaks of them. "It's like going back to weyrlinghood all over again. Sometimes, I wonder what it'd be like, now. But then I remember what it was like and get over that quickly. It's different for the dragons, I guess. They forget," a fact of which he sounds envious. A beat. "He has always loved to fly," his sympathy for Cadejoth's current state is obviously genuine, and he's silent for a moment. "How is it with... you and Azaylia?" It's an inevitable question, really, the Wingleader's interest rather keen. K'del makes a face of his own - a grimace. "Exactly," he agrees. "Weyrlinghood was bad enough the first time around. And now... I've places I need to go to, not just want." Of Cadejoth, specifically, he says nothing more - just a sigh, as one hand runs through his damp, dripping hair. "She doesn't trust me. It makes me want to hit something. We were friends, once, and now... how can you honestly have a good working relationship, if one person doesn't trust the other?" When the Weyrleader says that -- need -- R'hin tips his head silently, thoughtfully -- though he doesn't inquire, since Weyr rumor probably sufficiently fills that answer. "If you ever need to go somewhere a bit more... off the record, you have only to ask myself, or one of my wing. Discretion is our life blood, after all," a tiny smile, though it flickers and fades just as quick as it appeared. The older bronzerider pushes up from the bench, taking a couple of steps away, crouching down to touch one of the tiny, growing plants. "Such things can be nurtured again, given time. There is a quicker way, but -- I don't think you'd like it." A nod is the only answer K'del gives to that offer, as if by accepting in words he puts it 'on the record,' even here, where surely there's no one to overhear them. His fingers clasp the bench on either side of his legs; he leans forward, but doesn't move to follow the other bronzerider. "Time. Well, hopefully we've got time. It's-- what's the other way?" He sounds... suspicious. With dirt trailing through his fingers, R'hin stands to look back at K'del, as if taking a moment to evaluate his potential reaction. Then, with a dark chuckle and a dismissive shake of head: "Forget I even suggested it. Besides, I almost think you like taking the hard road. The noble road." It's intended as a compliment, but the Savannah rider's tone is light. "By the book K'del, that's what they should call me," answers the younger bronzerider, with only the faintest note of self-deprecating humour. "You're probably right: I don't need to know, especially if I'm not going to like it as an idea. Guess I just have to prove to Azaylia that I can be trusted. It's... not as though I've had easy relationships with my previous Weyrwomen, right? And we've managed thus far." "That's not nearly catchy enough," R'hin counters. "Straight-laced K'del? Admirable conduct K'del? They could call you ACK for short." His light tones are deliberate, but the other bronzerider's probably known him long enough to see something stir in the sudden burst of movement and the glint of pale eyes. "Managed wouldn't be the term I'd choose. Survived, maybe. I'd say you run on a platform of 'no more murders in the Weyr', and you might just win everyone over." ACK. K'del's brows raise, but he doesn't comment any further on that; perhaps he's too busy watching the other bronzerider so very carefully. "As platforms go, that one's got merit. Not that I planned for murders in the first place, of course. One hopes we can avoid more. Survived, though. Guess you're right there. I'd like to do better than that, this time." His fingers drum idly upon the solid surface of the bench. "No one ever does," R'hin acknowledges, tightly. "And a stable leadership will help with doing better, but more than that--" he pauses a moment. "Think about when you were just Taiga's wingsecond, and the things that frustrated you, that you couldn't do, the things you wanted to change. This is a chance to make your mark, you and Azaylia. Do things differently. Savannah shouldn't be the only wing you experiment trying new things with -- there are plenty of other... opportunities." K'del's expression sets into something far more serious, not to mention thoughtful, as R'hin continues. His fingers stop drumming, and go back to gripping to the bench, instead. For a time, he's silent. "I've wondered, sometimes," he mentions, "of the benefits of building closer relationships between wings and different areas. Alpine's built a relationship with Nabol, now. Would it serve us all to build that further? Not just rotate wings through constantly." "Perhaps, but," R'hin tips his head, and there's a shifting of his shoulders, a note of caution in his voice, "It works both ways too. Glacier formed a relationship with High Reaches Hold at one point, I heard. It might get to the point where people start to wonder if the tail wags the dog, when relationships get too close. Holders should never get to the point of thinking a wing belongs to them." K'del acknowledges that caution with a bob of his head, allowing, "There's that. I'd forgotten about Glacier. Rather not end up in a situation where my wings may be more loyal to the Holds than to me." It leaves him with food for thought, and a few moments of silence before he adds, "What kind of things would you consider pursuing?" "Perhaps you can find a balance. Assign a few wings who rotate through a single hold, so they don't spend their focus entirely there?" R'hin muses aloud, his gaze and attention seemingly fixed on one of the plants nearer the bench, with a frown. "A wing of talkers. Diplomats and liaisons with outside Weyrs. I think Boreal was heading in that direction?" He tips his head, as if wanting confirmation. "Form up wings of those with solid crafting skills, lighten up their sweeps and watch duties to do their craft -- but that one you have to keep under your hat, or risk the wrath of the craft. You could ship the wares out through trading families to the north and west. I can think of two or three trading families who'd be willing at the right price." One nod, and then several more, answer R'hin's suggestions. "Snowdrift did some, too, but they've always been more focused on search and rescue; they should probably stick to that primarily, and let someone else take on the diplomacy. The crafters... mm, that's always something I've liked the concept of. We could do it quietly." He's straightening, now, clearly pleased with these possibilities. "Got to make more use of the skills people have. And develop new ones, in some cases." "Or search for particular skills," R'hin says, lightly, though the emphasis is rather pointed. "Some skills can be taught within the wing -- that's something we do in Savannah. Others are inherent, and inherently useful. If you find the Weyr needs certain skills, well... stacking the deck a little can't hurt. At the end of the day, the dragons decide." His pale eyes are resting on K'del, taking close account of his reaction to that suggestion. K'del's gaze lifts, focusing rather more intently upon the other bronzerider as this suggestion gets made. It's difficult to discern exactly what he thinks of the suggestion - and indeed, whether he considers it dishonest or simply a practical way of getting something done. Ultimately, however, he gives a short little nod. "Have to do such a thing quietly, of course," he murmurs. "Some would call it dishonest." And Admirable Conduct K'del or no... well. "Of course," R'hin agrees, blandly, though there's a dark chuckle to follow soon enough: "We've come along way from dragons stealing maidens from their holds. People dragons have never shown interest in can ask to stand. But no one can force an impression." Not yet anyway. "Are you going to search from the Holds?" he asks, keenly interested -- enough so that he rocks forward a little on his feet. A snort answers the idea of stealing maidens from their holds; K'del shakes his head, half rueful and half amused. "Nabol's encouraged us to do so. Suspect it's one part gratitude and one part... helping to get rid of some of their excess. Still. It'd be rude not to take them up on the offer. The others; well, not officially. Not formally. Can't imagine the clutch'll be big enough that we need to." "Searching from Nabol and not the other Holds would be..." R'hin hesitates, selecting the word carefully, "...pointed. Or is that the point?" he wonders. "Lady Tevrane of Nabol has opened her doors to searchriders from High Reaches Weyr, and thus, although policy in recent turns has been to avoid Searching outside the Weyr," begins K'del, in a formal tone that suggests he's doing it for emphasis, "the Weyr has chosen to accept her offer. Yes." The 'yes' is more normally spoken. "That's the point." R'hin makes a noise in the back of his throat, like disagreement, though he's silent for moments longer. "Searching from Nabol, and a wing of their own. Lady Tevrane's done well for herself," he says, blandly. "Most of the other Holds," K'del points out, mildly, his gaze turned away now, and focused upon a rain-washed glass wall, "Have preferred us not to Search there, in recent turns." "And yet having candidates of the hold might well help feed back what a glorious leadership pair you and Azaylia will make." Yes, R'hin's laying it on thick -- and he's doing it deliberately to prove a point. "It doesn't sound like it's Nabol's relationship that needs fixing. Tillek and their missing ships; Crom and their still-to-come heir, and High Reaches and their..." he pauses. "Did you know the island you rescued all those exiles from is... repopulated?" It's a point well-made, and acknowledged by a slow nod, but any verbal answer K'del might have had for it is rather forestalled by that last remark. "What?" "Over two score of people. Maybe more -- there's caves there, so I hear." R'hin's rubbing his chin as he talks, "A dock and an ocean going ship, which is undoubtedly how they are sustaining themselves. My wing's tracking the ship back from the islands. It's all but certain to dock at High Reaches Hold in the next few days. We'll confirm it then -- Telavi made notes." The Wingleader's own expression is rather neutral, his interest as much in K'del's reaction as anything. K'del's reaction is slow in coming, except for how thoughtful and intense he looks. Finally, he turns his gaze back on to R'hin. "Should've seen it coming," he muses. "Given... Devaki. He always did seem to want his people to be resettled out there. It's interesting, though, finding out so long after it must've happened. We never thought to sweep so far out; why would we?" But clearly they should have. "You'll continue to keep an eye on it, I assume? I'd like to know if they seek to expand." With a slight press of lips, R'hin admits, "You can't infiltrate a community where everyone knows everyone else, and is related by blood. The only way we can keep an eye on them is by far, or..." a little smile, "Well, the ship is docking soon. I assume it will go back eventually. But, I'd say there's not much to worry about. There's only so many rocky islands they can expand to out there." K'del accepts this with a nod, and with a sigh that whistles through his teeth. "Good point," he allows. "Not the kind of terrain I'd be interested in claiming too much of; my vines are just about enough. Still not sure I like the idea of anyone potentially building an empire. Still. If it keeps them happy, who am I to argue?" "If a Lord wants to rule over worthless lands, there's no harm in that if he expects nothing from the Weyr in return. That he hasn't told you means you'd be within your rights to dump more exiles there at some point. Perhaps even on purpose, if you were concerned," R'hin suggests with an obviously sly sort of grin. "Or if you just wanted to rile them up a bit. I could see Bristia, E'nest and myself as exiles. Maybe not Telavi, though you'd have to tie her up to keep her out of it, I suspect." And now he's laughing, either at the image of it all, or knowing he's totally right about the greenrider. Probably both, because R'hin. The slyness of that grin has the corners of K'del's mouth twitching; it advances in to full-blown laughter as the other bronzerider continues. "Shells," he says, around his own laughter. "Now there's a mental image and a half. You and your little games." Clearly, he wouldn't have it any other way, of course. "We'll have to keep that one in our book of tricks, see how things go. Telavi's working out for you, seems like?" "Except for Quinlys stealing her back. Temporarily," R'hin's emphasis is rather pointed. "Nita's doing well, too. I'm warning you now -- I plan to shamelessly ply you with alcohol until you agree to at least one of my choices of the next clutch." At least he's honest about it. "That'll put Telavi in an ideal position to scope out possible talent for you," K'del points out, mildly, though he otherwise seems inclined not to take sides on this turf-war of talent. "Your honesty is appreciated. We'll see how we go, but I can't see why you shouldn't have someone, if it works out that way. If there's someone suited for you. We'll see." "Huh. I hadn't thought of that," R'hin admits, in an innocuous and unlikely fashion. It's followed soon enough by a rough laugh, and a spread of hands, as if in silent apology. He's quick to agree, though, "If there's someone. E'nest's blue has a keen sense for good candidates; I'm sure he'll be pressing to join the search wings." K'del's expression indicates quite plainly that he doesn't believe it for a moment-- though he lets it go, smiling again. "No doubt we'll be glad to have him. Not so often people get to ride Search, these days. Cadejoth's never been much good at it; bronzes so often aren't, of course." Now, with a sigh, he rises to his feet, stretching out his shoulders. "You'll let me know if anything else comes up, of course." "Leiventh's never been interested in search either," R'hin says, "Which is probably for the best, all things considered. Kidnapping maidens is much worse when it's a Weyrleader," he suggests, reaching to clap K'del lightly on the shoulder when he stands. With a quick grin: "Of course, Weyrleader." He says that with such relish, too. "Pity," says K'del, after a moment's pause. "Always fancied I'd be quite good and kidnapping maidens. Well. Once upon a time, anyway." To the other bronzerider, he grins, acknowledging him with a quick tip of his head. The relish? Well, that's hardly surprising; nor is the way K'del strides, so comfortable and composed, out of the greenhouse and down the stairs, jacket shrugged back on as he goes. |
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