====July 15, 2013
====N'thu, Sienna, Teyaschianniarina, W'rin
====Sienna and W'rin come to Weyrleader and 'second with Kehemath's discoveries.

Who N'thu, Sienna, Teyaschianniarina, W'rin
What Sienna and W'rin come to Weyrleader and 'second with Kehemath's discoveries.
When There is 1 turn 8 months and 27 days until the 12th pass.
Where Council Chambers, Igen Weyr



Council Chambers
However disheveled the corridor outside might lie, THIS room - the sole dominion of the Weyr's upper elite - is always sparkling, ever swept, ever dusted, its walls scrubbed free of the grime of ages. A certain spartan grandeur fills the Council Chamber, with its foreboding stonework and heavy wooden door. A round table fills the bulk of the space, an ancient creation of fire-hardened wood, carved with the three dune'd symbol of Igen Weyr. Chairs surround: hard-backed things (with thin cushions) for the most part, but two grandiose chairs, on opposite sides of the table, that seat Weyrwoman and Weyrleader. The walls are lined with elegant old tapestries, depicting scenes of ancient Igen glories.

Policy-making is three things, generally: 1) important, 2) either incredibly boring or fascinating depending on what kind of policy it is, 3) tiring. Right now, surrounded by a pile of hides, the Weyrleader looks minorly worn down and very interested in the massive mug of tea that is in front of him and appears to have gone cold. They got carried away. The Weyrsecond's seat also has a lot of files in front of it, and Teyaschianniarina's writing implement is abandoned temporarily — the Weyrsecond has stepped out, probably to get some missing item they needed to reference for whatever was being worked on. N'thu is still there, though his eyes are glazed over slightly, and he makes a bit of a face as he discovers once again that leaving tea sitting in front of you for an hour and a half does not make it stay hot.

Sienna approaches the administration area with W'rin in tow, lifting a hand to rap knuckles against the door. "Weyrleader N'thu?" she asks, peeking in with a little smile and then a smart salute. "If I - we - may have a moment of your time?" A brief hesitation before she adds, "Privately?"

(there was a 'sir' in there somewhere.)

W'rin is dutifully following behind Sienna, why he is here he has no idea. Except that she asked him to keep something safe, and then asked him to tag along. His hand is still over his check, covering the inner pocket which holds said item. For all he knows it is a list of baby names. Women? Am I right? But something about being asked to bring it with him to see the weyrleader makes him think it is probably more than that. Brows furrowed thoughtfully as his heavy booted steps bring him into the chambers, a formal salute is executed. But he is otherwise silent.


Setting the tea down again (at least this time he will hopefully remember to drink it sooner and it won't turn into sludge before he gets to it), N'thu looks up and gives Sienna — and then W'rin entering behind her — a pair of smiles. "Greenrider. Wingleader. Of course. Though that depends on how privately, as the Weyrsecond should be back in here in a couple of moments but other than her, you can be assured I am not expecting anyone else." His conversations are somewhat known to be private unless otherwise specified, so there's no concern of anyone else entering the council chambers. Generally, no one else ever does; the workaholics are left to their working. "Would you like some — well, all right, the tea's cold. If you like cold tea, you're welcome to help yourselves?" He tried.

Sienna considers for a moment, before she shakes her head. "It's fine if the Weyrsecond hears this, if that is what you think is best." Once they're inside though, she closes the door, assuming Teya will just come back in when she returns. Moving forward, she lowers herself carefully into a chair, her belly juuuust beginning to round. "I'm fine, sir, but thank you for the offer. I'm here to speak with you about Br'er. And…something I discovered in his weyr."

"No thank, Weyrleader." W'rin says, dropping heavily into his normal chair during meetings. But then the woman sits, and speaks and as what her words mean slowly start to seep into W'rin's brain which takes a minute because of all the wing formations and other work things that clog up most of the working portion of the man's brain, his eyes start to widen and the redness so indicitive of his anger starts to color his face. But this isn't his office. N'thu gets a rather horrified glance, do you see what happens when you take the man off his wing? The whole place goes crazy. His hand is placed over the pocket again, just what has he been roped into unknowingly. And then his brow creases, another thought visibly crossing his mind and flickers a glance at Sienna. He may remain silent, but that may be worse than his screaming.

That horrified glance is completely returned, though it's very quick — N'thu is either sympathizing or looking for sympathy or just somehow generally trying to relate to his mentor-bro type. (He is not a member of the Order of Silent Bronzeriders, though he can probably understand both K'ane and W'rin just fine.) He also looks a little bit greener than he had previously; the dark tan of his skin blanching and twisting slightly as he starts to feel just mildly ill over the entire thing. "Of course you are," the Weyrleader mutters, displeased, though he looks up with another soft smile to try to make it clear that his annoyance is not at all with Sienna. "Seems to be the order of the month, at least, wanting to speak to me about Br'er. Finding something in his weyr is new, though. Please do continue."

Sienna glances at W'rin, and a brief flicker of guilt crosses her features before she straightens her shoulders and looks back at N'thu. "Kehemath and I visited his weyr a few days after the hatching, because she caught a very…unusual scent on his ledge. If you didn't know, sir, my green is /exceptional/ at scents, much like a bloodhound canine. And she scented Olfashointh, and two unknown people on the ledge. Judging from the…strength of the scent, we both believed that they were there during the hatching. But B'rand's scent was /not/ there."

The guilty look only causes W'rin's jaw to set tightly and he turns his chair to face N'thu, as his arms cross over his chest. Though, he does not in agreement with the statement that her dragon is good with smells. "How sure can you be it was during the hatching?" His brows pull together deeper, as he flickers his glance back to the weyrleader.

"Impressive," says N'thu of Kehemath's skills; he doesn't seem to doubt it, and even has a guess: "I'm willing to believe she can narrow it down to at least the day of the hatching, if not precisely during, though if there are further ways to determine time based on smell I'd love the elaboration as well." He seems to be as impressed looking as he speaks, though also a bit concerned overall, brows furrowed. This just gets weirder and weirder, doesn't it? He couldn't have had a quiet, short tenure as Weyrleader. No, it had to start out weird and complicated, get weirder, and involve murder and conspiracy. "I've got no idea why Olfashionth would be there without his rider, unless he was visiting Inlayraith —"

Sienna hesitates at W'rin's question, not because she doesn't want to answer it, but because it's difficult to verbalize. "It's like…if you think of papers stacked in a layer. The one on top, the newest, is the freshest in your mind, while the one on the bottom is the oldest, and faded. The…scent profile Kehemath figured out was that Inlayraith's scent was the largest, of course, but most faded. She has not been there in a while. So hers is the bottom scent. Then, most recent, was Ryglinath and Elicheritath. Assuming they were there /after/ the ransacking occurred. Then, in the middle, there is Olfashointh's scent. So after Inlayraith, but before Ryglinath." She uses hand gestures as well, as she tries to explain it. "So pinpointing it as during the hatching is difficult, but it's within that time frame. And she didn't scent any other dragons, and the two scents that were mingled with Olfashointh's were also the strongest scents inside. So…it seems as if Olfashointh went there without his rider - carrying two people - whose scents were very strong within, among the wreckage."

OOC: Sienna says "*papers stacked in a pile"

W'rin nods, not that he's done being angry, but he's good at compartamentalizing, he seems willing to set aside the anger for the information. For now. "Were the rider's scents on anything? I mean, could you tell if they were the ones who did the ransacking?"

N'thu's mouth opens. N'thu's mouth closes. N'thu holds up a finger. "Yes, my question exactly. First question, anyway. Second, I can confirm that Elicheritath and Ryglinath weren't there until after reports of ransacking, so that would certainly back up the timeline." He presses his lips together, expression drawn, for a moment. "And could Kehemath identify these people if she saw them later?" Does dragon scenting stand up in the Weyr Council?

Sienna nods, "Yes, the two unknown scents - she didn't recognize them - were very strong in the weyr. Over everything else. And she wouldn't know them if she /saw/ them, sir, but if she /smelled/ them she would know immediately. Even if she smelled something that was theirs - clothing, or a place they had been - she would know." And there is no denying the pride in Sienna's voice for her lifemate's unique ability. "I also think one was left handed and the other right handed, if you look at how the slash marks progress through the weyr." Then she clears her throat, reaching into an inner pocket and pulling out the love note. "I found this as well. I believe it came out of the white chair that's in there. Ah. It seems Br'er was…on intimate terms with Weyrlingmaster Q'ila."

Everything makes sense to W'rin up until that last statement, okay, he was totally on Sienna's side, but that seems a far fetched claim. Being between the two weyrleader and greenrider he plucks the note hastily from the woman, positive the woman is reading too much into it, "Come now that isn't -" But his small eyes get even wider, and a fist covers his hand with a cough, is that red anger turning to a blush? "I..er.." He coughs, that's risque even for the man who's babymama is sitting next to him, and he simply hands the note toward N'thu. "She's right."

There is a rap on the now-closed door, but it's followed quickly by the Weyrsecond herself: the nod to propriety sincere, though the reason for her haste in not waiting to be called back in - she WAS the last person in conference with the Weyrleader, after all - is obvious. Whatever it was she left to go look for she has brought it back in spades, or at least in a large volume, bound, as well as several loose stacks of records atop it. There is also a spinner-web stuck in her hair (it has already been hastily swept away at least once, but is stubborn), and some dust-smudges on her pants, and apparently she's caught just enough of Sienna's statement for her eyebrows to both be hii-iigh as she says, "Sir?" and glances from Sienna to W'rin to her seat at the table, then back to N'thu. She wiggles her elbow. It's like a salute. A hands-full salute.

The Weyrleader's eyebrow had stopped its climb — the scenting dragon was not something that made him question anything, and the explanation of what the greenrider saw makes perfect sense to him. It's that last part that is doing a number on him, and back up goes the eyebrow. Considering Q'ila was the one to accuse Br'er in the first place (though not the first one)? What is N'thu supposed to make of that? He extends his hand to take the note, looking up to Teya with a quick nod, smile, head-jerk back to where she was sitting. "It seems the saga of Br'er's crime and High Reaches' Q'ila just got a bit — stranger. Sienna's Kehemath has found some interesting evidence, let's say. That involved trespassing, but we'll worry about that later." Otherwise he knows his Weyrsecond well enough to know she would want to handle the Legal Matter immediately.

Sienna pushes carefully to her feet to give the Weyrsecond a salute, before she lowers herself just as carefully back into her chair. "I did offer to help," she says, glancing at Teya and then back to N'thu. She was told to go back to the party, but. She offered! Spreading her hands, she clears her throat and shrugs. "I don't know the whole story, nor am I asking or expecting to be told the whole story. We also found something else. Another thing I have here, and the last is up in my weyr but I could fetch it if you wished. An old Reaches riding jacket. Large. Sewn in, under the lining and hidden was this." And she pulls out another paper, this one yelowed with age. Spreading it carefully on the table, she nudges it forward. "I don't make any sense of it," the mass of numbers and letters, "but…it was so clearly /hidden/..maybe that was what they were looking for? Or maybe it was just a lover's quarrel…" Faranth only knows. It's not really Sienna's job to puzzle out. Just delivering her ill-begotten evidence. "I have a theory that the jacket belonged to Q'ila, but without Kehemath ever having met him, there's no way for us to know unless she can smell something that we know belongs to him. Or himself, but…most people don't take kindly to her sniffing them." She speaks from experience.

As Teya enters W'rin stands, a salute given to the woman, though there is no warmth in his gaze, and he settles himself back in his seat. "Weyrsecond." Is offered as he settles in to listen to Sienna's story. "I still don't understand why Q'ila would have done it. I mean, if it was a lovers spat Br'er is in jail for murder, you don't get much more victory than that." His arms cross back over his chest, the big man looks at the jumble of numbers as they slide by him on the table. That is what he has a copy of his in his jacket. Sighing heavily he shrugs, "So we take something. Or force him to stand there while she sniffs him." Is W'rin offering to hold the man down?

Teyaschianniarina divests herself of her cargo with due haste, so that she can return salutes where they are due, but her attention is on Sienna and the evidence that she's presenting. Rather than taking her seat she annexes the space between N'thu's chair and her own, so that she may more easily read the documents just handed over. "I think that's a trespass that can be forgiven," is murmured, half to N'thu and half to Sienna, "considering - wait," she chews on her bottom lip, then ventures, "Would the letter - the one brownrider Zetya presented, accusing Br'er - would that still have enough of Weyrlingmaster Q'ila's scent on it?"

N'thu, having looked equally thoughtful, shoots Teya a quick more personal smile — if a bit of a beleaguered one. Because this entire thing is completely tiring. "I was thinking about that. You're on better terms with her, personally; suppose we can convince her to allow it to be sniffed?" It's a bit of a strange request, but an important one. "It likely won't do, but we can hope. Otherwise — well, we can't really just go ask if we can borrow their Weyrlingmaster so a dragon can smell him. That might come off unusually, considering how much he's done for us recently —" Which, of course, has another unhappy-suspicious face pinned on N'thu. Can they even trust their Weyrlingmaster, now? "It seems a little ridiculous to frame someone because of a lovers' quarrel. On the other hand, if he did frame him then who — and why — oh, I hope that's not it." Brain, going before mouth. Way too fast. "I suppose it's possible, if a little conspiracy theory, that O'oc was killed so High Reaches could put their own Weyrlingmaster staff in Igen's barracks, as that is exactly what happened, but the whole thing seems so farfetched and ridiculous. Who would do that? And then implicate — what, his own boyfriend? And what on Pern is with the weird code?"

Sienna glances at W'rin, brows lifting. "Except he's at High Reaches. So unless he comes here…that's a bit far for me to send Kehemath on her own. Even a piece of clothing would suffice. His scent was not…terribly recent, but it wasn't /old/ either. We're just not positive that it's his. It's…on that bottom layer. Around the same age as Inlayraith's. There is a scent that was common in the weyr, but…again, we're not sure whose it is. We think it's Q'ila's, but…" Without having a confirmed 'this is what he smells like', it's guess work. "Was he here around the time Br'er was put in the brig?" Glancing at Teya, the greenrider looks a bit relieved that she's being forgiven, and then tilts her head. "For her to make a positive match - and honestly, I think this is something that we should be /sure/ of, it would have to be something we /know/ is Q'ila's, and was recently near him. Even a piece of clothing from his laundry bag… Papers that have been passed from person to person can pick up a lot of scents, and it can be hard to sort them all out. Like listening to five songs at the same time." Then she looks back at the numbers and letters, shaking her head. "I don't know. It seems important. Hidden in that jacket, and older…but. Coordinates? I don't know."

W'rin pauses, his fingers drumming in thoughtful agitation, "How long has Br'er been in the brig? If they were lovers - they must have met some place. Could his sent still be on his sheets? Dirty clothes?" It is a disgusting proposal but perhaps, the wingleader has been to busy to really count the days since the greenrider was through in prison. Frowning thoughtful he glances at N'thu, "Or, I could go ask to visit his weyrling pratices. Say I'm looking for ideas for Sandblast…" And he leaves off the very evident part where he takes something of the weyrlingmaster's discreetly. Surely, he hasn't done that before, and surely the weyrleader doesn't know anything about it. "It's not like I don't have the reputation to back up actually wanting to better myself. And it would be more of a ego boost for the man, than a hey we think you ransacked a weyr and had man framed, let our dragons sniff you. Faranth knows he's a prideful man."


"On better terms with her personally," is repeated, but oh! it is strained, on a par with the weariness laced through the Weyrsecond's slightly too-tight smile. With Sienna's dismissal of the letter as a good reference source Teya's expression eases, and she pulls a folded parchment - clean, this one - from her inside pocket, then reaches for her abandoned stylus. "May I?" she asks N'thu, eyebrows engaged and waiting for his okay before she starts transcribing that old, old, piece of hide and its mysterious bounty of letters and numbers. "I still don't," she admits quietly, just a hair frustratedly, "know enough about inter-weyr politics of now to know if that's anything but wild speculation, but it-" she doesn't go so far as to say that it makes sense, but it's there in her expression as she looks up from her writing, to N'thu and W'rin and Sienna all in turn. It's there, and she wishes that it weren't. W'rin's suggestion, though: that earns a considered warming of her expression, a slow nod, but since N'thu's right there, and she has writing to do, she doesn't respond out loud. Just looks like hey, man, that's a pretty baller idea.

Writing is something N'thu always expects of Teya, and he seems a bit amused when she still clarifies it's okay after months of it — but that doesn't stop him from nodding, once and even twice, before chewing at his own lip in minor distaste. For the entire concept of killing one Weyrlingmaster in order to put in another. To — what, take over the Weyr? "High Reaches has sent people to Igen before. Ri'enn and Br'er," both friends of his! or so he had always thought, "Impressed at High Reaches. I just don't know why they would want —" A sigh, and then he's considering W'rin. His favorite Wingleader, regardless of which wing he's leading at the time, gets a curious, slightly impish smile. "You would play spy? I would not stop you." He can't officially order someone to steal something, of course, but they're not talking about that.

Sienna looks over at W'rin in…is that surprise? She also looks impressed. "That would be ideal, since we can't go to High Reaches ourselves…" Hand on the belly. Not yet, but soon! But this doesn't seem like something that should wait. Glancing around at the leadership, she nods slightly. "I think that's all the information I have to give, but if we can be of any more help…"

"Yes, yes they did." W'rin's words come out slowly as he mulls over the sudden connection that both Ri'enn and Br'er were from Reaches. "And now your weyrleader." His glance suddenly jumps to N'thu, "And then so Ri'enn is gone, and then Br'er kills a man? And suddenly we have all new people from High Reaches -" The man's giant fist comes smacking down on the table, it isn't the first time this table has felt his weight, say every wingleader meeting ever, and it holds steady, "Fucking assholes, it makes perfect sense." At least whatever the man is running through his head. A lopsided grin is given to N'thu, "I would certainly never consider asking such a thing, weyrleader." Read as, 'I'd do whatever Igen Weyr needs me to do. "And don't you agree that it would be a good idea for me to go to Reaches and speak with the weyrlingmaster. Certainly no weyr would be better quailfied to help me with Sandblast." Sarcasm drips, he awaits only the order, time to go and dismissal, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. As angry as he gets sometimes at him, he and N'thu really do speak a similar language, just with different accents.

Teyaschianniarina is still transcribing: her handwriting is neat and precise, even at speed, though she checks back with the original hide often rather than risk committing an error. "I think," she answers Sienna, while N'thu and W'rin have their moment, "that your services will be required again - or rather, the services of your lifemate. Once," oh, she was listening, "W'rin has sought counsel from the esteemed Q'ila." She manages to school her expression enough to keep her own grin from surfacing as she looks from Wingleader back to Weyrleader, but she has to duck her head and studiously apply herself to her transcription, after a moment.

As Teyaschianniarina speaks of Q'ila's great esteem, N'thu gives a long, slow nod: yes, this is now the plan, and yes, he is also keeping from grinning broadly at everyone involved. However, his expression does remain neutral, businesslike, for as long as it must. "I concur," he tells Sienna, and then his attention belongs solely to W'rin. "You are very right, there. As soon as you choose, feel free to request the highly-regarded Weyrlingmaster's advice," and some of his stuff, "though I do hope that time of your choosing is relatively soon." Like tomorrow. "If that's all, you two are welcome to be off; if you've got anything else to add, do please feel free to add it." He sips his cold tea. He remembered.

Sienna looks confused, but she doesn't speak up, she just watches W'rin. And if anyone glances at her, there just /might/ be a little shimmer of affection and pride in her expression for the Wingleader and her babydaddy. Pushing to her feet then, she gives both N'thu and Teya sharp salutes. "I will bring the jacket later, if you wish, otherwise it's in my weyr." And she'll leave the originals here as well - the letter and the code. Then she'll turn towards the door, but wait for W'rin.

W'rin shakes his head, words are used only when necessary, doing is better. Rising from his seat a salute is given to both N'thu and Teya, "Weyrleader." The man gets a slight curl of lips, he has been forgiven any slight. "Weyrsecond." His voice coolly formal, rigid; she has not. Turning he makes his way out, a gentle, if not firm hand placed on the small of Sienna's back as he escorts her out. He has a trip to prepare for, and they have some talking to do. Probably angry loud talking.

"Wingleader," it is not the same rigid formality, no, but it is cleanly neutral professionalism in Teya's voice, and her salute. "Greenrider Sienna." Apparently the reason she was writing so MUCH is made clear when she returns the original code-hide to N'thu, and one copy; there is a second, which she folds up and tucks back into her jacket. As the other riders clear the council chambers, her repressed grin fades into a far more pensive expression. "This is certainly … something. I don't know which is easier to believe - that Br'er is possibly a murderer," and oh, something twists in her expression over the words, the same way it has every other time this has come up, "or that there's some … conspiracy whose surface we've only just touched." Her expression doesn't seem any more settled over this possibility, either.

N'thu has final salutes for the Whirlwinds (or, the Sandblast and the Mirage, technically, but they are still a pair of Whirlies) as they depart, and nods, without words. He will, eventually, file the Official Original and keep the Official Copy of that letter on his person, in order to further inquire with any bright minds he might come across. It is a sigh that comes out of his mouth once they're alone and he's leaned back in his chair, and, "Honestly? I'm not sure. Br'er is someone I have long considered a friend," and so he obviously does not like the idea of him being a murderer either, "and I can't really imagine that he would actually kill anyone. But the idea of High Reaches trying to, I don't know, take over our weyrling program and recruit our riders for — something? And that they would do that by killing someone —" Evidently, neither are good options. N'thu does not look like a happy camper at all, here. This just gets better and better.

"I haven't been to see him," Teya says abruptly, guiltily, "I mean - to see him, I've been to see him, but not to - speak. I haven't actually spoken to him since before Inlayraith's flight," which Ryglinath actually participated in, much to her eternal surprise and discomfiture. "And I would have said I'd take any evidence that he wasn't responsible, and gladly, but this?" She makes a noise. It's a tired noise, a frustrated noise, and one that turns into a slight sound of disgust as a swipe of her hand through her hair finally pulls that spinner-web free. "W'rin still hasn't forgiven me," isn't entirely on-subject, but it's close to it.

"He understands," N'thu says, as regards W'rin. That doesn't mean he forgives her; that doesn't mean he forgives N'thu, either, but at least he understands. "He knows it's what's best for the Weyr. And clearly that matters a lot to him, considering what he's volunteered to do." Which doesn't stop his expression from being sympathetic, compassionate. "Hard times for everyone right now, though, I know. I don't want to believe any guilt of Br'er. I should go talk to him myself. I've helped the wing bathe Inlayraith a few times, and Itzquintlith checks in on her — that was actually the first flight of hers for a while he didn't participate in," which N'thu appreciates, but of course Itzquintlith's only reason was that he was on the sands. The I-dragons have a relative fondness for each other. "The whole thing just —" Again, with the cutting off his voice. The hand gesture of frustration and unequipped vocabulary. "I don't think this is what either of us wanted in our early-life tenure of leadership. Twentysomethings running a Weyr might be absurd on its face, but fate doesn't like giving us an easy time of it."

"Ryglinath does, too," at least he's a little more up-front about it than his rider, who has picked up the habit of LURKING. She tucks away her copy of the code, and reaches for the records she brought in, earlier. "This whole thing is just - more than either of us was even imagining we'd face. At least," here she grins again, but it's a drawn one, "anyone else would still be having these same problems. I - think."

"I — saying I hope so is not actually what I wanted to say," N'thu is actually shaking his head at himself. "Because I wouldn't ever hope that. But every time I'm about to say I don't think it's personal, it comes back to me what W'rin pointed out. That this stuff started after I became Weyrleader. I don't actually think it's personal in that it's me, but it might be personal in that it's not Ri'enn. Why did he come here from 'Reaches? All the time we've been wingmates, friends, I never asked." A shrug. A sip of incredibly cold tea. "It's starting to freak me out a bit. Not knowing who to trust."

"After you became Weyrleader, after I became Weyrsecond -," Teya brings herself into it only because they weren't one and the same, though they happened relatively close to each other. "I don't know. I haven't spoken to him outside of drills since," here her expression grows faintly sheepish, "the meeting in the Council Chambers immediately post goldflights. I don't know Ri'enn well, but Br'er?" Her expression twists, then falls. "I don't know. It's getting to me, too. The not knowing. You'd think I'd be more prepared for this," given her history as a guard, "but I wasn't. It's a relief knowing you weren't, either."

"You probably were to some extent more than me — you at least have legal experience. At all. I'd never actually arrested anyone before, which is why I had you do it," N'thu confesses. That, and he's giving Oldtime Guards credit for what they had accomplished: M'yck and Sh'z, for instance, are way better than most of Igen's Guard. Funny that as a member of Parhelion he'd never before made an arrest, but the most guardly thing N'thu ever got to do was tell people to stop making scenes in public. They ignored him. Now they listen. "Br'er may be a scheming sort, he may have morality that isn't completely focused on the betterment of the entire world all the time, but I don't think I could ever call him a bad man." Sigh. Again. "Considering my family, you'd think I would be experienced with conspiracy theory." She probably knows about his family.

"Thanks for that," and here, in private, Teya feels comfortable enough to let the fact that her words are more than a little sarcastic show. "It wasn't my most ridiculous arrest, or my worst, but it was - fairly high up there. I know you didn't feel any better about it," she'll admit that, at least, "but that was a little horrific." Under the table there is a solid thump as the heel of her boot impacts the ground, then again. It repeats, slowly, but stops once she's gone from thinking to speaking again. "No. I … wouldn't either." Mention of family picks up her mood again, if the cast of her grin is any indication. "Given your family, I'm surprised conspiracy theories weren't the first place your mind jumped." Yeah, she knows about his family.

Laughter, then, from N'thu; he is also willing to admit in private that, well, "If I had not been one of the proud Tlatoani," the least proud of the proud Tlatoani, "I might've taken longer to get there. Similar with you and the guarding. It's so absurd it makes sense in context. Though, honestly, welcome to Igen, Weyr of the Absurd Failures. It's always been a little — different, here, but this has been an extreme recently." Lest Teya think it is always quite this bad, though he's pretty confident she doesn't. "I can guarantee, though, that my family has nothing to do with this one. They'd have warned me first," comes with a hollow laugh, and then he gives his empty mug a dirty look. "Really need to get more tea. I think we'll be here a while."

"So I've managed to gather," Teya admits, though her expression is both beleaguered and fond, when it comes to the Weyr of Absurd Failures. "Well," comes on a laugh of her own, "your family has my gratitude for that. Some advance notice would have been wonderful, though, so maybe I do wish it was them." Her expression clearly counters this: she really doesn't. But forewarning might have been … nice. "I'll get the tea," she announces, and just as suddenly pushes the large volume she returned with into his space. "You start with this." At least there will be fewer cobwebs this time. As she stands to go, she pats her pocket just once - yes, copied hide still secure - before she gathers up his mug, her own, and departs.

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