Who

Pash, Amani

What

Robust and lively conversation at the High Table.

Unrequited Flirting?

When

It is 3:19 PM where you are.
It is afternoon of the tenth day of the third month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Southern:
It is the tenth day of Autumn and 101 degrees. It is partly cloudy and everything is wet still from the recent rains.

Where

Living Caverns, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 08 Oct 2018 07:00

 

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Living Caverns

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in a naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophobia. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about, candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next to the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the Weyr's youngest. The rich blue of the Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


It might officially be autumn, but Southern is still getting out of the sweltering phase. Sitting in out on the garden terrace in the shade while snacking would be nice, but with the passing of the most recent storm, the rain is unpredictable. So here sits Amani, clad in a crinkled cotton skirt dyed deep crimson, a sleeveless white top with just enough fabric in play at her shoulder to hold her knot, and a Zingari-made sash of indigo silk bearing a star-like spray of tiny gold beads. Her long, dark hair is partially caught back, yet still manages to fall partly forward of her shoulder. The young Senior's attention is currently split between a plate of fruit, a glass of iced klah, and a small sheaf of hides that she's frowning mildly at as she leans forward in her seat at the high table, propped on folded arms as she reads.

Stately clothes that a holder's son might wear are far far to the wayside for most of the year. So wearing linen shorts that tussle about his knees as he walks and a linen sleevless shirt of darkest blue, with what seems to be bleached stripes going diagonally from a shoulder down towards a hip. His time is spent away from crew and minders. A single night's uncertainty about your life makes people clingy, and Pash has found it almost exhausting. So he is beginning to do much the same as Amani, to tuck himself at the high table with crisp redfruit, unsliced for the moment. His leather pack lifts and plops obnoxious onto a chair beside him.

The dragging of that chair jolts Amani out of her reading, her head lifting abruptly and klah-dark eyes blinking to focus on the man who's decided to help himself to a seat at the table of the Weyrleadership and distinguished guests. She doesn't take offense, but she wonders at the audacity of it…unless it's something else. Before she opens her mouth, she finds herself studying him, a spark of familiarity nagging at the back of her mind, but she's coming up short. The Weyrwoman straightens further, a dark brow arched in curiosity and a corner of her mouth quirked upward in bemusement as she gives a little tilt of her head. "Not that I mind sharing the table," she says after a soft clearing of her throat, "but…who are you, and where are you from? Not here, I'm assuming."

Distinguished guest here, eyeballing down the stem of his redfruit, pondering slicing or devouring and goes towards the easier method of munching. Which is exactly what is going on, a big huge chomp just as Amani begins to talk to him. Big green eyes over vibrant red fruit is what happens when he finds her. And eyes smile more than his mouth does as he finishes and begins chewing. He holds the redfruit as if to make a point..but…no. He is still chewing. Then he goes to open his mouth to speak. "I'm surprised nobody is bustling up here to share the table with you." Which doesn't answer her question, not yet. That was mangled by mouth half full. Then he finishes. "I'm Pash."

Those eyes catch Amani off guard for a moment when they find her, though she recovers after a second with a little shake of her head. "Pash. Island River's son; of course. I thought you seemed familiar. My apologies." She's seen him before on visits, she's sure, but face to face conversation hasn't happened until now. "Though," she can't help but let a bit of cheek come through, a smirk curving full lips further, "your etiquette is a little lacking." She eyes his pack pointedly before bringing her gaze back to his face. "I wasn't aware you were visiting us, else I would have attended to you when you arrived." As for being alone at the table… "Most people don't want to get within throwing distance of me when I'm carrying hidework."

"You aren't the first to speak thusly. And won't be the last. This time I get to use the excuse of shaking my fist at the gaping maw of death than for a lack of courtesy." Another chomp and his eyes head towards that same pack. Its a very nice pack, brand new looking even. "Oh, you would have had to fight through healers who wanted to ensure that I needed nothing more than a good meal for recovery. The same healers who tell me I cannot ride a dragon home to meet my ship." The man looks too much a herdbeast chewing a mouthful of feed at the moment. Eyebrows lift and he wags the remaining core at her."Ordinarily I'd blame your beauty for disarming me and rendering me tactless. But I wasn't quick enough for that today."

Pash's first earns a look from Amani that's both bemused and surprised. His next, however, has a thread of annoyance weaving along the edges of her expression. "I'm going to have to have a word with Master Varden, obviously. How long have you been here? How were you hurt?" Something seems rather out of order here, and she isn't pleased with it in the least! And so it will remain until she gets all the details. Then he's turning on the charm and it throws her again, being something that's not been aimed at her from a holder's quarter as of yet. Her brow arches again, her lips pursing to thin out the smile still curving her lips. Still, she blushes; that's something that will likely never change, no matter how hard she tries to control it. "Mmm. That might work on me a bit better if your cheeks weren't so full," she informs him, trying to keep her tone flat but not quite avoiding a limning of amusement.

"I fell over board during that squall the other night and washed up down by the wildlings camp. Eidou tribe? Something?" Oh, her mouth moves and words speak but not quite what she means is it? Well. Probably what she means. "I was totally specifically that I was at my most handsome with my mouth full…" Pash's head cants over slow and his chewing slows to a thoughtful pace. "Or maybe she said I was at my most handsome with my mouth shut…" That seems all the more likely.

Now that story sends Amani's eyes widening. "The Erdou. Did they bring you here?" It seems to matter a great deal to the younger goldrider for some reason. "And your ship? Was it lost? No; you said you were to meet it again…" Her amusement is of a sharper sort after Pash's last, and she sits back, studying him again. "'Handsome' lies in more than an arresting pair of eyes and well-formed mouth, occupied or not, holder Pash," she opines before her brows furl slightly. "Does Island River know what happened to you?"

"You have a well trained guard here, it was the first thing the guardsmen at the entrance did. They sent word via firelizard to Island River straight-away." The core remaining of Pash's apple is settled lightly upon the table. Not abandoned, just resting. A few good bites or two there. This repose isn't likely to be relaxing with the way Amani is questioning him so closely. "Farrah of the Erdou was the one who woke me upon the beach, gave me water and food before I prevailed upon her to walk me this day, instead of the next. She left straight away. My jokes of about her ransoming me were not amusing."

"Good," Amani states firmly to Pash's first. "Now I only have to get on them and the Healers for not letting me know right away." Or maybe she'll take the time to let her annoyance simmer down and question them first before snapping at them. "Ah. I've heard the name, from her cousin," she says of the wildling who found him. "Many of the Erdou still won't venture to close to the Weyr proper, so I'm glad she was willing to bring you this far." Even baby steps are progress. There's a dry chuckle for the holder's last. "Trust them to be stoic. Anyway." She rises then, bringing her plate of fruit along and switching to the chair at his right arm instead. "So," she goes on, setting the plate between them in offer, "what sort of wounds did you come away with that have the Healers saying a flight is out of the question?"

"Devana? I believe it was? The cousin. She is bedding down with a rider and its apparently caused quite a stir. At least with the Flower of Erdou. Ahem. Farrah." Enough context provided definitely has her slotted as the young senior weyrwoman. But Pash is too tired too smooze, even if his wit and casual flirtation is winning out for the moment. "It was quite a struggle to get her within sight of the Weyr's entrance." Oh. She is closer now. He'll stiffen and straighten up, turning now to face towards Amani as she settles near him. "The healers worry since I spent the entire night in the ocean, about having caught something and it not catching up yet. They believe going Between might aggravate it. I couldn't press upon a rider to fly me the entire way…"

"And tact is in short supply as well, I see." Amani tilts her head to her hand rubbing at he temple. His "slip" with regard to Farrah is something she has to prevent herself from rolling her eyes about. The man is a cad, and pretty enough to get away with it. A shame, she catches herself thinking, and huffs the thought away as she, too straightens with Pash's turning to face her. The mention of what the Healers believe does earn an eye-roll. "I've never heard of ::between:: aggravating illness," she scoffs. "Then again, I'm not a Healer." She's dubious even so. "It might be a welcome flight, and Zymuraith and I would offer it to you were it not for current circumstances." There's apology in her expression before she asks, "Do you have a room? Or have you just come from the infirmary?"

A cad, certainly. Perhaps he had been caught up in being rescued? No. Eyes went open and immediate flirtation. "I had only a small ration given to me at birth, and I'm afraid I've done run through it already." This close, its easy to tell that the sun has well and truly baked him. He will peel soon, if he is lucky. Blister if he is unlikely. Tan if he is too lucky. "I would take your offer, but then I'd be there and you'd be here. And I don't think thats what you want." Cocky smug smirk is crawling over his face now and his words hang there for a moment before he leans in closer, as if to whisper words of wisdom. "I've discussed with my crew, the ship took minor damage and will be repaired tomorrow, and then on its way here to get me the day after."

"I'd advise learning to use it more efficiently then," Amani suggests seriously, though there's a subtle mischief in her eyes. "Especially as heir to a hold. If a girl from a seedy desert wallow can learn it, surely it's possible for a man of Blood." She can indeed see what the sun has wrought upon his skin, but his next words prevent her from looking too closely. "You don't know me well enough to guess what I want, holder Pash," she replies with a dangerous silkiness to her voice. When he leans closer, she doesn't move, determined to stand her ground in close quarters with a scoundrel such as he. "And if you're cleared for flight before your ship arrives?"

"Teach me then, Weyrwoman." Pash's light brown eyebrows lift and he does not retreat. Not quite yet. His reputation as a man to be avoided with too free of a tongue hasn't been firmly established and entrenched. Not yet. "I don't know you well enough? You were oh so willing to entertain the thought of my hands upon your waist for the long flight to Island River." Those eyebrows waggle, green eyes for her gleaming brown. Danger just enflames him and his teeth dig into his lower lip. But he does ease away. Just a touch. "I will abide by whatever you decide, if I am cleared to fly. This is your Weyr."

"Lesson one - don't risk a diplomatic incident by so freely airing what might not be wise to just blurt in the open," Amani is quick to counter Pash's first, dark eyes locked to his unwaveringly. He's second earns a smile that could cut stone, though the mischief in her gaze increases. "I said nothing about you sitting behind me for such a flight," she points out, her gaze getting distracted down to his bitten lip for a split second before returning to his. "My Weyr," she echoes, "but your ship we're expecting in our docks. You are Southern's guest until then, but if you are cleared and tire of your room before then, you need only say so and you'll have your flight back. Don't make me regret the courtesy." Isn't she already? She, too, eases back a bit, and pushes the previously offered plate of fruit his way. "Fill your mouth, holder Pash. What makes you most handsome does seem to be of utmost importance, after all." She rises again and moves around him to take up her hides, which is clearly going to take a few minutes.

"So you'd want your hands upon me then. I'm used to such inclinations." But oh. That smile worries him, his eyebrows furl like sails under bad weather into each other. "I think I'll wait for my ship if your Gold will be carrying me in her clutches the entire way…" Pash doesn't take to fruit yet, or looking away from her. She is dangerous, isn't she? How like a weyrwoman. But she stands to get her hides and he pops a bit of citrus into his mouth and closes his eyes at its sour sweetness. Mm. That is good. "Would you speak to me of your interactions with the Erdou? Should I worry?"

Amani anticipated that Pash's next would be something along that line. But he picks up on her insinuation, and that smile breaks into a mirthful grin. "Ahh, you catch on quickly!" She might be pleased to know that he's entertaining thoughts of her being dangerous. But then he's asking about the Erdou in earnest, and her hide-gathering slows as she turns her gaze to him again. "A serious question?" she can't help but tease, and then she's giving the matter due consideration. "Mmmm…" Turning, she leans back against the table at his left, arms folding beneath the swell of her chest. "The Erdou are…one of the more neutral clans toward the Weyr, though they're still largely suspicious of us," she explains. "Some of them will come to trade at the boardwalk now and then, and Devana is working to establish a better rapport between her people and us. Save any smart remarks on that, please." With a sigh, she reaches up to push back the hair that's strayed over her shoulder again. "They believe the Weyr will keep expanding outward into wildling territory, which of course isn't true. We can't for the dragons' sake. My concern is that they, and other clans, will start to turn more attention toward the holds, since you can expand. Some worry would be healthy, but communication with them is key. Talking rather than taking. There's so much jungle, and boundaries are invisible, but the know it better than any of us and know when those boundaries are breached."

"Oh, don't speak such lies. No one will believe if you tell someone I had a serious question. I would suffer for it." More fruit plucked and chewed as she is quick to speak to him of these things. And he is leaning towards her once more, a quick eye for the hides just to ascertain their nature. No need to read them. They're boring anyways. "The holds are doing their best to intrude. Island River has been established, and a few others. But nothing serious. There is some wariness about Black Rock Hold…but there are plenty of third and fourth sons anxious to find land and holds of their own." His pack is tugged at, and his own collection of hides is pulled from a tube, and laid open. An untraced map drawn from eye rather than any other method. Minute differences but not enough to be worthless. "Have you started sending parties to treat with them? I'd rather much sit and discuss the range of their traveling and use of the land than discover it as he set piles for new buildings."

"Wariness is always best with Black Rock," Amani remarks almost flatly. No, nothing interesting about her hides…or at least nothing pertinent to a holder. "It's all serious to the wildlings because they weren't asked before people started staking claims. It's the biggest reason why the conflict with the Weyr happened some Turns ago, long before I came down here and Impressed." He pulls out that map and it piques her interest, enough that she slips into the chair beside him again to peer at it. "We're constantly treating with them. Trying to assure them of our intentions. It's been going on since before I became a rider, but after I Impressed I knew I wanted to be working with them. Fostering understanding. The place I came from went through something with Igen Weyr that was similar to what the wildlings experienced when dragonriders came south, so I feel like I have a bit of common ground to work from." And with some, it's fortunately worked to her advantage. "If you and other holders want to sit down with the clans, I'm certainly happy to mediate those meetings."

Wariness is apparent on his face as well, especially as Amani settles in beside him once more. Black Rock gets a glance from him upon the map, its jagged outline stern. Because much has been heard about this hold. Island River is much clearly definited, and fingertip points and drags down the river a ways. "Our holdings only go out so far and we haven't encountered any wildlings in the region yet. We may have lucked out, or they may be hiding from us." A long wistful sigh as fingertip glides further down the river towards where only dragon eyes have truly seen. If at all. "I can only speak for myself, not even my entire hold. But I could gather enough to treat with them. To bring small gifts and open an exchange. If they are willing."

Fortunately, when it comes to matters dealing with the people under Southern's protection, there's no need to be wary of Amani…not that Pash knows that, of course. Her eyes follow his finger down the river, and she sits back, nodding thoughtfully. "It could be a bit of both," she muses. At his last, she looks up at Pash again, genuinely curious now. "What do your parents think of dealing with the wildlings? Are they of the same mind as you, or…do you have conflicting views?"

He doesn't know, not nearly enough. Maybe his presence just so carefully out of reach of true responsibility has kept him from having to pay closer attention. But the river has his eye, even as it squiggles out into nothingness along with everything else. The unknown. "I am fairly certain my mother believes that with a bit of education and coddling, she could double her holds numbers of 'converted wildlings'. My father is surprisingly tightlipped about the matter." He'll turn towards her now, narrowing his gaze at her as if she just tricked him. "Anything more you wish to know about my parents while you have me off guard?" Not too accusatory, more teasing. Sass.

Amani is also looking at the blankness that is Pash's uncharted territory, certain of spots she could fill in according to what she's seen from the air astride Zymuraith…and all that she can't. The unknown. But Pash is answering now, and her attention returns to him in full. It takes all her strength not to scoff at his mother's opinion, truly. "Your mother is playing with fire," she notes, and seems unsurprised at what he says of his father. Dark brows arch high with his narrowed gaze and teasing accusation, and she smirks again. "Glad to know I can return the favor," she says to his last. "Honestly, dealing with holders can be just as dangerous as dealing with wildlings, for me. You won't give me any insight that you don't wish to give, Pash. But it seems a fair trade at the moment, don't you think?" She lets that hang for a moment before going on. "So would you be bringing up the idea of treating with the wildlings to your parents, or is this something you mean to do on your own?"

Pash has left plenty of room for such filling in. Southern Weyr at the top of the hide and no northern continent in sight. "My mother has that way about her. I think she sets herself to the most difficult of positions just to challenge my father and force him to really consider his voiced opinions." What nice things to say about your parents. Dangerous? Moi? "I'm dangerous? I'm just a young man who don't know any better. Out to see the world, make his mark before he forced to bed down and wed some poor woman who gets stuck with him."

"That's quite the dynamic to live with," Amani states with rueful wryness over the matter of Pash's parents. His last earns a soft chuckle. "You're dangerous in a way, though not the same sort of dangerous as the longer established holders I've dealt with so far. There's so many forms 'dangerous' can take." The last half of his words garners a rather visceral reaction from the goldrider, mention of being "forced" to wed still absolutely distasteful in light of her own past. "So run," she states, a quiet and intense passion snapping in her dark eyes with her assertions. "See the world. Make your mark. And don't stop. If you don't wish to marry, don't. Be who you want to be on your own terms and hang what anyone else thinks. Why should you have to be forced into a pairing?"

"Its prompted many interesting dinner table conversations. You speak your opinions carefully in my family. Because as soon as you do, you just might be forced to defend them." Pash takes only one more bite of fruit before he decides he is done with it as well. The hide starts to roll as he talks. Then Amani has her own opinions. "I've my own ship now. I can sail it where I will, for the most part." The force of the words has him taking her in again anew. His nose scrunching with his smile for her. "I almost find it funny. That some woman may end up stuck with me, dealing with my ways. I am not in for as much as my older brother. His match will be careful and delicately planned." The rolled hide is pressed carefully into his brand new pack. "You will be a very interesting friend, weyrwoman."

While Amani certainly appreciates the truer answer, she still can't stomach it, and shakes her head slowly. "If that's supposed to be a rule, there are an awful lot of holders throughout history who've dodged it." Or so she gathered from her history lessons during weyrlinghood. "I think the number of things that are certain in this world can be counted on one hand, for holders, Weyrfolk - all of us." His last earns another cheeky arch of a brow. "No one is more entertaining than my dragon, I assure you. But you'll apparently try to be."

"Well, I wouldn't mind meeting the queen of the entire Southern Continent, beauty of the sky, errant wonder that keeps us under her watchful gaze." His eyebrows lift and he stands at the same time as they lift. To pull pack upon his shoulder. "Too much maybe?" Is her dragon vain enough to listen to nice words about her? The man seems drawn and thin today. Not that she has much to compare it to, only brief glances and noticing at visitings. "A few days here might be nice. As long as people can stop noticing me, hm?"

"Zymuraith isn't vain, but she's not going to turn up her nose at praise," Amani replies amusedly. "Unless she thinks it's insincere." The goldrider suddenly finds herself looking up at Pash and rises as well, taking a half step back to help the fact. It does afford her the chance to scrutinize him a bit more closely, and being no stranger to tiredness herself can recognize it easily enough in the man. "As I said, you're Southern's guest. And if you don't want to be noticed, spend a day in bed. You do seem as though you could probably use it."

"A day in bed? The last time I spent a day in bed it was not due to sickness…" But perhaps thats the line that Pash toes, and his cheeks goes crimson. Except not there the glowing red of sunburn. No. She can't spot that hint of embarrassment. When a man lets his tongue walk dance and cavort freely, sometimes it shames him. In unexpected ways. "I believe your weyr has the healers best suited to tending towards affliction of being too free of the sun?" Fingertips flutter towards his face. "I'll stay a day, or three. Or five. When one's face is their best asset, its better to keep it in good hands, hm?"

Again, Amani flushes a bit as well, though not to the extent Pash does. Her expression is one of nonchalance, save for the subtle press of her lips. It's quite possible their minds went two different directions with his words, but they'll never know! "They know what they're about when it comes to that sort of thing, yes," she says of the Healers. "And while your face may be an asset, I'm not so sure it's your best one." She turns and finishes gathering her hides then, tucking them under her arm. "Ardstelle will see to you if you need anything while you're here. But I'm easy enough to reach," she tells him, and steps back from the table. "Good day, holder Pash."

"That is my intention. Besides, I am sure the crew is putting together some sort of award or trophy. 'The Only Man Blown Overboard'. Or, 'Most Likely To Fall Over in a Breeze.' So they need the time." Pash shakes his head slowly at just the thought of what horrid things his crew is going to do to him. "I'll send for you tomorrow. I hope you have a rider or two who has seen more that I can add to this map." The pack is settled in place and the Weyrwoman gets a quick smile. "Good day, Weyrwoman Amani."

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