Who

Amani, R'zel

What

After Zymuraith's flight, R'zel and Amani talk. Secrets are told, and possibilities raised.

When

It is late afternoon of the nineteenth day of the second month of the nineteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Weyrwoman's Office, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 25 Jan 2020 00:00

 

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"Oh."


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Weyrwoman's Office

Understated elegance has come to play here: a large desk dwarfs the occupant usually found sitting behind it, the deep grain of the wood a cherry-mahogany reminiscent of the heavy furniture that fills the Weyrwoman's weyr. Stacks of hides fill the surface to create a space of ordered disorder. Arranged around the desk are large chairs with thick cushions of deep jewel tones: sapphire, emerald, ruby. They are large enough to fit the tallest, brawniest of riders and weyrfolk. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with a variety of ledgers and other official-looking documents. To note, a shelf or two artfully hidden behind the bulk of the desk holds well-beloved spines of volumes that hold content of a more personal nature. Frivolous reading. A plant brings forest-hued cheer into the otherwise dark and heavy room, as does the sideboard where a variety of finger-treats are set out, offered to those who have business here.


It's a fortunate thing when those directly involved in a flight manage to wind up somewhere comfortable in the throes of the catch. The Weyrwoman's office is at least private, if not really comfortable for such times as this. The chairs are big and cushioned but still not ideal. It needs a couch. Amani makes a mental note of that, when she's able. The floor, despite them having dragged a few chair cushions with them, is far too harsh a place to come to rest. Shifting slightly highlights the fact that she's still tangled up with R'zel, something she pauses to consider before uttering a soft groan as a bit of stiffness makes itself known. She gently touches his shoulder, testing how coherent the bronzerider is at the moment.

R'zel grunts a little, then screws up his eyes before opening them. Left to himself, he'd have slept a little longer, but now he's realising that this is not a comfortable location at all, not least because he finds himself lying in a gap between cushions. He stares stupidly at his view of the underside of Amani's desk for a few seconds before speaking, though all he manages at first is, "Oh." Still entangled with the goldrider, and with more than a little stiffness in his own muscles, he's slow to move, but shifts position slightly so that he's not so awkwardly placed. He closes his eyes for a second, opening them to say, "I think they're still asleep. Verokanth is, anyway."

Whatever else may be going on in Amani's head in the wake of this flight, she can't help uttering a soft laugh at the first thing R'zel says. His shifting helps a bit, but not enough for her to move freely herself. "So is she," is her confirmation about her own lifemate. "After the way she decided to go about things this time, I'm willing to bet they stay that way for a while." She gives the bronzerider's arm a squeeze in a silent request to let her up. "So. I seem to recall you saying I'd saved you from hidework earlier," she notes ironically, smirking a bit. "Ready to take that back, Weyrleader?"

R'zel gives a resigned chuckle - or was it more of a groan? - at her form of address, but he does reclaim his tangled limbs and shift sideways to let Amani up. "I spoke too soon, didn't I?" Becoming aware of his state of undress, he starts to scan the floor for clothing, and when he speaks again, he sounds much more awake. "At least, after handling my share of the work along with the other wingleaders, I've a fair idea what's about to hit me." He reaches for a corner of fabric that's just visible under the desk. Underpants, for the win!

One thing that's nice about summer clothing is that there isn't much to reclaim - for Amani, at least. Once she's free of R'zel, it's a quick matter to find and don her sundress. R'zel's trousers are close by, and she hands them off to him before going in search of her sandals. "Yes, that should definitely work in your favor," she says of his experience as a wingleader. One sandal is located and plucked up, the other making itself known just a little ways away. "You might have an easier time adjusting. Settling on the edge of on of the big chairs, she starts slipping her footwear back on, glancing sidelong at the bronzerider. "I'm guessing this'll be your first time at it?"

"Thank you." R'zel is relieved and grateful at the return of his trousers, and soon retrieves his shoes and what's left of his shirt, though some of its buttons may never be seen again. "Yes, my first time. I've been wingleader of Ocelot for almost six turns." Like Amani, he takes to one of the armchairs to secure his footwear. The shirt is just going to have to hang open for now. "I'll miss them, too. It's going to be strange, flying with a different Wing. Do you get used to Weyrleaders coming and going?"

Amani notes R'zel's missing buttons and winces slightly. "Sorry about that." She doesn't remember doing it, but she knows she's the likely culprit. With both of her sandals on, she sits back a moment, brow furrowing subtly in thought before she shakes herself out of it and looks around, dark gaze landing on the sideboard. "You could keep your wing. If I remember rightly, it hasn't always been Jaguar," she says, and then mulls over his last question for a bit. "Well…I've only dealt with a few, mind. And I was asleep for most of M'kel. I think it's more that I'm used to people coming and going. You get used to adjusting, because nothing is ever permanent. Weyrleader least of all, it seems sometimes." Judging by her expression, being used to people coming and going doesn't mean it's comfortable. She gives a little jerk of her chin to the sideboard. "One good thing about ending up here is the food and drink that's always around." Easy access to a pick-me-up, at least!

R'zel stands immediately and heads for the sideboard. "What may I get you?" He locates a couple of small plates and some glasses. "Jaguar's been the Weyrleader's Wing for as long as I've been here: I'd rather assumed there was thought to be some advantage to it being a mid-level wing." He sounds a little surprised, as if what Amani said is news. "Closer to both the other levels, perhaps - or having a little extra time to keep an eye on things than you get in upper-level Fall. Though I believe, in times gone by, there were Weyrs where any wing the Weyrleader led became the Weyrleader's Wing when the leadership changed. And Igen certainly has an upper level wing as Weyrleader's Wing now. And of course, not every Weyr has flown with three distinct tiers anyway."

"There is," Amani says to R'zel's assessment of Jaguar, giving R'zel a little smile as she watches him navigate the sideboard. "I was just saying it's an option. You're the Weyrleader; you could change it if you felt like it. But you're looking at it from a tactical vantage rather than a place of attachment, and I think that's a good thing." She flips a hand toward the sideboard. "Just water and a pastry'll do, thank you." Another pause, and she considers the bronzerider anew in the wake of his words, giving a slow little nod. "I'll think you'll do fine. And considering we've gotten along fine…I'm eager to see how well we do for Southern together." With a smirk, she adds, "I'm sure everyone is excited to have a proper Weyrleader again. Especially a local one."

R'zel has to laugh at that last qualifier. "I think most of us would consider almost anyone an improvement on M'kel. I've no illusions that I'm absolutely the best man for the job, but at least I have the evidence that we could have done worse!" He's also not particularly likely to be drummed out of the Weyr by the combined willpower of Southern's queens. He hopes! More seriously, "I shall have to do some thinking about the Weyrleader's Wing. Igen did change theirs, to give their weyrleader the top-down view, I believe. One could argue the toss about where lightweight and heavyweight wings should be placed, as well." So far, R'zel's constant search for better tactics has been confined to Ocelot. It may be about to hit the Weyr at large! But perhaps not just yet. "But none of that should be sprung on people without a lot of preparation."

Amani can only nod to R'zel's first, chuckling in turn. "Because everyone can agree on what 'best' is," she returns sardonically, and finally gets up from the chair, stretching a bit. "You're already putting more thought into things than I think many would, so I'm sure you'll make the right decision. And you're right about not springing things on people. I'm not worried about you not communicating what you're thinking, either, which should make things run smoothly. At least where you and I are concerned." Her gaze drops a bit, and she shakes her head, frustration momentarily marring her expression. "Ryott is getting a little better at it, but she still thinks it's clever to do her own thing when it suits her. She certainly hasn't been listening to me on some counts lately. But with Ulrika gone…she's going to have to sink or swim."

While they've been talking, R'zel has poured water into two glasses and selected pastries to put onto two plates, though he's added a stout finger of cheese to the one he's chosen for himself. Now he brings a plate and glass to offer to Amani. "Ryott's a strange one. I hardly know her, but I suspect not many people do. Have there been problems? And I'm sorry Ulrika's left us, even if it is only supposed to be a loan. She's a good weyrwoman, and Verokanth was very proud of Theidith, though he seems to have forgotten her now that she's left. And we could all do with a bit of continuity, I think."

Amani accepts the plate and glass gratefully and immediately bites into the pastry, listening and nodding along with R'zel. "Continuity would be nice. Not that I helped with that much some months ago." Months that are now well behind them, but the memory still irks her. "Problems…in a sense. I told her not to go off doing her own investigations. She does them anyway. One of the guards nearly arrested her before she clued him in, and she's been spotted a time or two by…other sources. Under other circumstances, I wouldn't care. But she's a weyrwoman. The weight of that isn't something she's come to terms with yet." As far as Amani can surmise, anyway. As for Ulrika, she sighs heavily. "Verokanth was right to be proud. Ulrika…needs to come back as soon as she can." But there's nothing to be done about it except wait. The Weyrwoman nearly polishes off her pastry with her next bite, preoccupied as one thought leads to another.

R'zel collects his own plate and glass, and sits down again. "Arrested? Oh dear!" There's a twinkle of amusement in R'zel's eyes at the picture that creates. "Though, you'd hope our guards would recognise our goldriders: there aren't exactly a lot of you. What kind of investigations?" He frowns. "Is she taking risks? Going into dangerous situations? She needs to think of her dragon, if she is." Savoury before sweet: he demolishes the cheese in a series of neat bites. "I don't know what she did before she Impressed, but she won't have had more than basic self-defence classes as a weyrling. And, ah, what other sources would those be?"

"She apparently takes pains to make sure she's not recognizable," Amani explains when R'zel comments on the guards not recognizing Ryott. "Luckily, our guards question before getting aggressive. If she were to run into a pirate…" He can probably do the math on possibilities there. "So yes, I'd say she's taking risks. And I'm willing to bet Wrayth encourages it." Dragon and rider seem well-suited to one another in that regard. When R'zel asks after other sources, Amani hesitates, filling the silence by finishing off her pastry. "As Weyrleader, you should know," she says after taking a sip of water, and settles her gaze upon his. "The Zingari have spies. We've contracted with them to help in the investigations; they have some capabilities that the Harpers don't. Ryott is their main point of contact with us, specifically for this. I'll let you guess what she may or may not have done before, based on that."

R'zel's eyebrows rise. "She has training? Interesting. And an interesting choice to contract with the Zingari. So their spies have capabilities that the harpers don't?" He looks at Amani for a few moments, clearly curious about that point. "Would I be right to assume that the Zingari have spies primarily to protect their own interests as traders? And… you were also Zingari, weren't you? I was a harper, but far too junior to have any contact with their undercover work." Is the Weyrwoman also of the spy persuasion? R'zel doesn't go there. Instead, "Are we aware of any harper involvement in this?"

Amani just nods in answer to R'zel's first few questions. "Yes. But I can't really elaborate on them. Mostly because I don't know all of them." Quite frankly, she's not sure she wants to know all that the Zingari spies are capable of. "Don't let on to Ryott that you know all this unless you need to." Another nod to the question of her being Zingari. "I am, though I was adopted in. I was a guard; I'd only just learned the spies even existed before getting Searched. You have it right, though, from what little their Spymaster has let me in on surrounding their origins. Harper involvement…" She sips her water, thinking again. "I suspect there may be some, but mostly dealing with the trader's side of things, not looking into the pirates specifically. I need to talk more with them."

R'zel nods at that. "If we find we need to know, and if the Weyrharper appears not to know, I suggest you speak to the Masterharper, or ask me to. His lips describe a quirky grin as he realises something. "Oh, wonderful: I'm going to have to make duty visits, aren't I? Crafts, Weyrs, the main Holds of our area…" He picks up his pastry, as if to fortify himself for the task to come! "Anyway, visiting the Masterharper is no problem: I've known him since I was six. What about the Seacraft? Pirates are certainly of interest to them."

"I'd say go visit whomever you need to in the Harpers. Once you're completely caught up on what's been going on, of course," Amani says, and laughs at R'zel's mention of "duty" visits. "All the time. Not to an obnoxious degree, but still. It'll get to feeling that way." There's a vigorous nod for the matter of the Seacraft. "They're always on the watch, along with the dolphins, but even more so once we let them know what's going on. These are a sneakier brand of pirate than everyone is used to, though, I think. There hasn't been much from the Seacraft's end to report." Which seems odd, but so it goes. "Anyway." She looks a bit sheepish for a moment, unconsciously fiddling with the ring on her left hand. "I…really ought to check in back home. If there's nothing else you need for right now," she qualifies quickly.

"Well, I'll have some explaining to do to my mother if I'm not at the Hall within the next few days," R'zel chuckles. "But right now, my top priority is getting my head round things. And finding a bigger desk, for all those lovely hides. And, I'm going to have to move, aren't I! It makes me glad I don't have much to pack!" He's practically rolling his eyes at that last thought, but his mind's still on the multitude of things to be done. "And, more seriously, I need to find a Weyrsecond as soon as I can. I don't want to rush and make the wrong choice, but I also don't want to risk leaving things the way they've been again. He stands and takes his plate and glass back to the side-table, where no doubt one of the support staff will collect them for washing up in due course. Then he turns to Amani, hesitates, smiles, and simply says, "Thank you. Perhaps we can talk again tomorrow? I may know which way up I am by then."

Amani laughs softly again over the matter of R'zel having to move, nodding apologetically. "There's a bigger desk with your name on it fairly close to where you're moving, fortunately," she informs the bronzerider. "And plenty of people to draft to help you move if you need it." She puts her plate and glass with his. "I don't think there's really much of a risk of that kind of mess coming up again," she opines, and then faces him once more. "Thank you," she counters, though doesn't specify what for, exactly. Not being a boor in the wake of the flight? Not that she could ever picture that from R'zel. "We'll be talking every day for a good while, R'zel, not to worry," she assures him, and somewhat awkwardly reaches out to give his arm a little squeeze. "I'll see you in the morning." And with that, she'll make for the door that happens to connect quite handily to the courtyard, her weyr waiting just a short walk beyond.

R'zel starts to move in the direction of that larger desk, but then his shirt flaps. He thinks better of it and, with his weyr out of reach for now, heads for the stores instead. From there, decently clad again, he climbs the stairs to the Star Stones in search of air and somewhere to think, and maybe a sunset to watch.

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