Who

Ryott and Wrayth, Amani and Zymuraith

What

Ryott and Wrayth make the trek to the leadership courtyard…only to find there's no rest for the wicked.

When

It is noon of the sixteenth day of the eighth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Leadership Courtyard, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 29 Mar 2019 06:00

 

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"It matters how truth is presented. Especially as a goldrider."


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Leadership Courtyard

Nigh palatial, this gorgeous sweep of cultivated bowl: a courtyard proper, a fountain bubbles in the middle of a grove of orange-trees, next to a stone bench that has weathered many a turn. Rare metal stands out at the sweep of steps upwards to the landings of queens'-weyrs and other administrative personnel; handrails to prevent… mishaps, and sparse doors of spiraled cast-iron to lock out any vagrants.


With that winter rain letting up briefly, a weyrling pair has managed to wander a little further than they probably should. Straddling the stone bench in her green jacket and black pants, Ryott's whole expression is deeply thoughtful as she stares up at the entrances to those leadership weyrs, with mix of awe and more than a bit of apprehension. For her part Wrayth has her fore claws hooked over the side of the fountain and is sticking her tongue out to catch the water as it cascades out, splashing and making a general ruckus. Surely her bonded is aware of the behavior, she keeps flicking her gold sidelong glances, but she leaves her to her own devices for the moment. Probably because there's no one around to yell at her for not correcting the queenling. With a heavy sigh, Ryott lifts her hands and starts to gently rub at her temples to ease a lingering headache she swears she's had since Hatching Day.

It isn't that there's no one around, just that whomever is around isn't much for yelling at the moment. Zymuraith, who has been taking care to keep her considerable mental influence tamped down with so many baby dragons present, save in times of need, is watching her golden daughter from a favored ledge. It's big enough that it obscures her from the ground when she wishes, though she watches over the edge with a slitted eye, her chiaroscuro markings helping her to blend in to the damp stone in silence. Amani is made aware of Ryott and Wrayth's presence in this way and starts quietly down the steps as Zymuraith lifts her head slightly. « That might be the wiser place to splash, yes, » she intones speculatively, though there is the faintest hint of a tease present as well. The faint smirk to Amani's lips echoes it as she descends the steps into the courtyard proper. "You must have a lot of confidence that she won't fall asleep on you halfway back, coming here."

Briefly stopping what she's doing to look up at her dam, Wrayth snorts in her direction. « I already got the puddles. » she intones, and indeed, the queen's hide is dulled by faintly muddy streaks in places, mostly washed away in the rain, but there will surely be a bath in the young queen's future. When she notices movement from a particular ledge, Ryott snaps herself back to reality and has enough presence of mind to snap off a salute to Amani sitting up a little straighter out of her slouch. "You think it was my idea to come all this way?" she scoffs derisively before tossing a look back at Wrayth who now ducks her rose-masked face under a jet of water, gargling loudly.

« And time will be wasted later dealing with that. Though not as much as there might be otherwise, » Zymuraith answers, rising slowly and beginning to slink down the nearby ledges until she's on the ground. Meanwhile, Amani returns the salute…but then comes to stop at the end of the bench, a brow arched as she crosses her arms. "You get one warning before I end up doing what I need to the next time you sass, Ryott. Please don't make me go there," she informs the weyrling evenly before glancing over at Wrayth. "I know very well these things usually aren't the human half's idea. But you need to be able to flex the mental muscle to stop her. Here's an easier one." She jerks her chin toward the fountain. "Stop her from doing that for now."

"What? It wasn't sass, it was the truth!" Ryott can't help but get a bit defensive as she shoots a defiant look briefly back up at Amani before her better senses kick in and she manages to look at least contrite. "Sorry," she mumbles under her breath as she averts her gaze and swings around so that she's no longer straddling the bench but sitting properly and facing the fountain and her lifemate at Amani's last. With a heavy sigh accompanied by an unconvinced shrug of her shoulders, she narrows her eyes and reaches out towards that now familiar red glow that is Wrayth. Come on, let's show 'em we aren't complete fuck-ups, Wrayth. Leave the fountain for a bit. Nothing. Wrayth…please. I'm really not in the mood to get yelled at right now cause you won't listen to me. She exerts some pressure, hissing and pressing her fingers back to one temple as it seems to exacerbate her headache. There's a flutter of the gold's pyrite veined wings, a stubborn shake of the goldling's head, and a long moment where Ryott holds her breath, hopefully. Looking over her shoulder, Wrayth at least takes her head out of the water to give her bonded a sharp look, that's something, right?

Amani's expression remains neutral, though there is a nostalgic sympathy in her eyes. She keeps her silence until it's apparent that Ryott has managed to exert some control over her lifemate. "It matters how truth is presented," she tells the goldling. "Especially as a goldrider. There's nothing wrong with being up-front, but there's a bit of an art to it. There's even a way to burn someone with it without them realizing what you've done until later, when needed. But all that fun will come later." She sits down to Ryott's left, leaving the girl plenty of space but relaxing into her own. "The headaches should lessen the more you do that," she assures Ryott. "She'll just keep testing you, and you have to keep your grip tight. But they never choose someone who isn't strong enough. Even if you feel far from it."

"Oh…I know a thing or two about different ways of presenting the truth," Ryott replies, a mild offense to the curve of her dark brows as she tilts her head to one side and gives the senior Weyrwoman a sidelong glance. For her part, Wryath loses interest in the fountain and instead slinks around the bench until she can rest her very wet head in Ryott's lap, looking up at her bonded with those subtly mismatched eyes. With a resigned sigh, the teen lifts her fingers to gently scritch along the queen's eyeridges, which earns her a soft whuffle of satiation in return. "I sure hope so. She's not at all what I imagined…" she drawls, almost to herself more than to Amani. The older woman's last words are given consideration before she turns her dark gaze back on her, narrowing and subtly searching. "I don't know what you've been told, but I'm just fine. I'm no wilting flower ready to break. You could ask Javid if you don't believe me." There's a challenge there, and maybe opening up a little more than she should, but he did say to trust Amani in his last letter, so if this goes wrong, she can always blame him.

"What makes you think I've been told anything about you, Ryott of the Zingari?" Amani counters coolly, no stranger to challenges from most quarters at this point. "Other than what you used to be and what clan you came to the Haeyleri from. I'm perfectly capable of making my own judgments about people, considering I had no one else to advise me on them most of my life." Now the Weyrwoman levels a quiet, evenly appraising glance upon Ryott. "That first, brief time I met you, I knew you weren't some delicate flower. That notion and Zingari women generally don't seem to mix, even when some of their men would prefer it," she notes with a rueful smirk. "But being strong doesn't mean there's an absence of flaws. I know you know that. Getting defensive and guarded when someone just wants to help, for one." Her smirk is knowing this time, her gaze flickering downward momentarily. "I know it well myself. From another life."

"I figured you'd be getting reports of our progress is all," Ryott replies as she turns her gaze back down onto Wrayth's head in her lap. The dragonet's eyes are whirling blue-green as she moves her scritches around the base of those curled and pointed headknobs. Her gaze darkens a bit as Amani reveals as much as she knows, sighing heavily with a shake of her head. "Even in the Zingari, I never fit though," she admits absently, not looking at the Weyrwoman as if that makes the confession any easier. At the older woman's last, she just chuckles coldly, "Oh-ho… so you know me now do you? Because you've learned a bit about me? I won't deny my flaws, but do me the courtesy of not pretending anything is done to help me, as opposed to making me a perfect little Weyrwoman like Ulrika. I know I wasn't what anyone wanted to see on gold ok, it's a shock to me too, alright? But I'll do it…my way."

"And you think you know exactly how things are, with me, Ulrika, and anyone else, do you?" Amani counters, a hint of sparks snapping in her gaze despite her tone remaining even. "You make a lot of assumptions, Ryott. Jump to conclusions…why? To see how much of a rise you can get out of someone? I know nothing of you and assume nothing, though you remind me of me in the Underground quite a bit." She turns to face Ryott, bending her knee to rest her near leg up on the bench. "Ulrika isn't going to be perfect. She's going to be a combination of what she was, what she learns to be, and what Theidith helps her become, and that will have its advantages and disadvantages. It'll work the same way for you, and give you a whole different set of pros and cons. And it doesn't matter which idiots didn't want to see you on gold. Wrayth chose you, and that's all that matters. She chose you for being exactly who you are. Now…" A dark brow arches high, accompanying a slight tilt of her head. "What exactly do you think 'your way' is going to be, especially considering that question I had you think on?"

Sulking at the dressing down she receives from Amani, although she would never admit to it, Ryott stares into Wrayth's eyes as if those whirling facets hold the answer that would end the unsettled feeling she's had ever since Wrayth first flooded her mind with her crimson light. The Weyrwoman is probably right in one respect, she can make assumptions, but that is mainly because people tend to be predictable, she's learned that from all the time she's spent observing them in her training. The talk of Ulrika has her shoulders hiking up a bit defensively, but again she bites her tongue. It isn't until Amani's last that Ryott actually clears her throat to reply, "I think I figured out what you wanted us to say. That we are not our own, we're representatives of the Weyr by the sheer fact that we ride gold, we need to put the needs of many before our own. Be a proper example for the masses as well." There's a resigned sigh, as she once more shakes her head, still not lifting her gaze from Wrayth.

"What I wanted you to say?" Amani shakes her head a little bit. "What I want you to say is what's on your mind. If that's what you think, it's a good answer. And mostly right. It's not just that you're representatives of the Weyr, it's that…" She pauses, lips pressing together as she considers the order of her words. "When I say you're not just your own, I mean that the Weyr will help you become what it needs you to be, too. If you let it. And what it needs you to be may not be clear for some time, so being adaptable is key. Does that make sense?"

"I'm nothing if not adaptable," Ryott starts with a bit off a scoff and a mild display of teenage arrogance, but it burns off relatively quickly. "It makes sense. I'm not intentionally trying to be difficult. But this, all of this, it's…..a lot. I know people are trying to help me, but it feels…" she struggles for the word as she rolls her eyes upwards with a sigh, "Suffocating. Like I can't breathe most of the time and I don't even know my own mind anymore. I'm listening, I'm learning, I'm taking advice, but I need people to back off too, and let me, let us, figure ourselves out right now." Her tone is surprisingly even, her deadpan back in full force, but there's something steady too there, conviction in her words as well as a plea. With a shift of her dark gaze to Amani, she studies the woman's face for a long moment while waiting on her reply, while on her lap, Wrayth's lids begin to droop noticeably before she snaps them open again.

It takes a good deal of willpower for Amani to not heave a long-suffering sigh in the wake of Ryott's first, but she manages to refrain, especially when the arrogance does dissipate so quickly. She nods in the wake of the goldling's words, holding her gaze steadily in turn once Ryott's eyes find hers. "I understand. And I'll do what I can to remind people that the space is needed, especially the weyrlingstaff. Though they can only stay backed off for so long. Everyone else, though… They need to worry about themselves. It's easy for us to fall under everyone's scrutiny just because of the color of our lifemates," she states with a certain weariness. "But there's plenty of that to come later. This time is too important to be having to juggle it already." Her attention flicks to Wrayth, a knowing smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. "You'd best get her back home before having to carry her, I think."

"You're telling me! I'm not used to the spotlight, the shadows are much more familiar," Ryott replies wistfully, her desire for anonymity irrevocably denied…for the moment at least. But she can't get ahead of herself. Patience is going to be key. Then Amani is pointing out her fading queenling and she sighs heavily, "Yeah, cause she's getting too big for that real quick…" Gently taking the wedge-shaped head in her hands, Ryott practices touching the gold's mind with hers, her gaze getting that vague look briefly, C'mon. No sleeping here. Let's get you back to your couch. It could be that Wrayth is actually too sleepy to protest, because the lanky dragonet pulls herself to her feet and looks ready to go. With a grunt, Ryott pushes herself off the bench, "Thanks Ma'am. I appreciate it. Clear skies to you and yours." And once she's sure she's dismissed, the pair makes their way off to hopefully make the Barracks just in time.

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