Linny, F'dan, Jalebren


During a meeting, Linny and F'dan's little one decides it's ready to join the world…a whole month early.


It is morning of the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month of the second turn of the 12th pass.


Council Chamber, Igen Weyr

OOC Date




Council Chamber

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.

Lord Tirvin of Keroon loves having a captive audience, using up every last second of his allotted time with whoever the Weyr has tossed his way, and those who are unlucky enough to have been chosen are in for the longest candlemark or two of their lives. Unfortunately for those in the council chambers currently, he’s been given two candlemarks, and only a quarter of the way in, he hasn’t stopped talking long enough to let anyone else get a word in edgewise.

Which is fine with Linny, surprisingly. Woken up in the middle of the night with those annoying false labor pains, not only is she exhausted, but she’s still experiencing them every now and then, though luckily they are just a nuisance and not all that painful. When in the midst of one, Lord Tirvin serves as a focusing point, much to his delight to have the complete and total attention of the weyrwoman, who takes measured breaths in and out throughout the duration of it, careful not to make it too obvious, especially with F’dan sitting so close to her and Jalebren watching her like a hawk these days. The goldrider has been good at keeping her pains to herself, something she wants to keep that way, or else that hovering assistant of hers will insist that she leave immediately. The only sign that perhaps she’s not feeling up to par is the fact that her klah and sweetroll are left touched, and Linny seems to be a little too interested in what Lord Tirvin has to say.

Jalebren isn't seated at the grand table, but rather at a smaller one somewhere in the back of the room that's dedicated to the assistants. Currently, he's with a few others and scrawling some notes onto a hide — taking down specific parts of Lord Tirvin's diatribe will save Linny from having to pay close attention to what the man's saying right now. And speaking of, Jay glances up at the weyrwoman and squints slightly, brows narrowing just so as he observes her face. Well, that's interesting. She looks extremely focused on the Holder at the moment. Attention is then drawn back to his notes and he continues to jot a few more things down.

F’dan has been in enough of these meetings now to have perfected the grand art of looking like he’s paying close attention while he’s doing nothing of the sort. You can understand what Lord Tirvin’s getting at if you listen to five percent of his actual words, anyhow; the man packs in the filler like nobody’s business. So while it looks as if F’dan is listening intently, nodding at the right moments and taking notes, he’s actually making a small diagram at the corner of his slate. Little triangles and circles and stars represent Oasis wingriders — not that anyone else could tell — and F’dan thoughtfully draws and erases them, shifting places. Now if he suggested to the Wingleader that he put Nimmarath here then Uth could take up the slack at the back of the wing… The only thing that eventually draws his attention is Linny, who’s looking absolutely fascinated. Faranth. But since she’s not eating… a note is scribbled on the slate before he tilts it subtly towards her, trying to catch her eye. You having that? Since Linny might not want a sweetroll but F’dan always does.

It takes a few moments, but out of the corner of Linny’s eyes, she finally catches sight of F’dan’s scrawled note, and she shakes her head, carefully pushing the pastry over to him on the plate so that it doesn’t make any sort of scraping noise on the table that would catch Lord Tirvin’s attention. They are enough people in the council chambers for him to pander to, but it’s still not good to be the one he notices goofing off. Linny learned this during that infamous meeting with Cha’el, where the image of her naked body got sent around to the whole Weyr accidently. However, the sweetroll only gets about halfway to F’dan before Linny stops and instantly, her hand reaches out to grab his forearm, squeezing tightly as her head bows, face in a tight grimace. That definitely wasn’t a false labor pain; it was most certainly the real thing, and painful. Unfortunately, the sudden movement does grab Lord Tirvin’s attention, and he stops his speech, eyes pinned on the woman, who looks like she’s in the middle of trying to hold back a laughing attack. “Something funny, weyrwoman?” he demands, while poor Linny can only manage a meager shake of her head, lips pressed so tightly together they’re practically white.

Naturally when the Holder poses a question to Linny, Jalebren snaps to attention, blue eyes now pinned on the goldrider. His writing utensil is subconsciously tapped against the parchment on the tabletop and he listens for the moment — no need to get up just yet, although the other assistants around him have now stopped what they're doing to watch Lord Tirvin's reaction. Reaching over for his glass of water, Jay leans back in his chair and takes a sip while waiting for Linny's response.

F’dan was really excited about that sweetroll. It was going to be the best thing that had happened to him in several candlemarks. He can imagine how it would taste, is practically salivating over it — and then Linny’s gripping his arm. He’s almost about to ask her what the shards she’s playing at, but even F’dan is not entirely unobservant. She may look to Tirvin like she’s about to laugh, but F’dan is close enough to see the white line of her pressed lips. His forearm stays where it is and, after a moment, his other hand is brought over to rest on hers. He doesn’t say anything, hoping Tirvin will continue on in his monotone, just tilts his head to give her a ‘you okay?’ look. Not that he’s waiting: the hand that had touched hers stretches behind him for a gesture back at the assistants. Someone had better get over here.

It takes some time, Lord Tirvin waiting none too patiently, but finally, Linny’s head lifts up, and she’s already got her perfected poker face in place, as if nothing ever happened to have everyone’s attention upon her. “Sorry. Baby pains. Please, continue.” A quick flash of a smile to the man who is more than happy to pick up exactly where he left off, and then she’s tilting her head slightly towards F’dan as she retracts that hand that had the death grip on him: not that she expects him to understand the look she’s giving him, what she’s trying to convey, but there’s definitely something going on that’s more than baby pains. A quick mental recheck and…nope, the baby is still a month away from being due, and it’s been over ten Turns since she last had a baby, but that sure did feel like an honest-to-goodness contraction. Even still, labor can be a long process, and if it is in fact labor, surely she can multitask and continue to sit in on the meeting while the baby prepares to come out, right? Linny lifts a hand to wave off Jalebren, considering there’s nothing her poor assistant could do anyway.

There is to be no hand waving when Jalebren is around and the look on Linny's face while her hand was on the Weyrsecond's arm was enough to make his decision for him. Quietly pushing back in his chair, Jay stands up and smoothes the front of his shirt before making his way over to the weyrwoman. Upon arrival, he crouches next to her, settling himself in between she and F'dan. "Linny." he says quietly and very seriously. "Everything okay?" Blue eyes lift up toward the Holder to make sure the questioning isn't a distraction, and when Lord Tirvin conveniently ignores him, Jay returns his attention back to Linny. Still, voice barely above a whisper: "Tell me the truth."

Well this is the worst of all possible timings. F’dan hasn’t been paying close enough attention to dates to know that this is early, but he does know that this is a meeting. Perfect: now he has to somehow make Tirvin feel like he’s the centre of the show and make sure that Linny gets help. Thank Faranth Jalebren decides to follow his gesture rather than Linny’s, and the boy even gets a thin-lipped nod of approval from F’dan as he comes close. “You should take her to the healers,” he murmurs under his breath. “I can get Kadanth to prepare them for you.” Another sharp-eyed look at Linny, trying to work out if this is what he thinks it is. For a man with more than a handful of children F’dan has no idea how this works.

It’s a fact: Linny has no problem smoothly lying to F’dan, but it’s impossible for her to lie to Jalebren, and so a frowning look is flicked between the two of them. “I think I’m having contractions,” she murmurs softly, glancing back over at Lord Tirvin who continues to be caught up in his pompous talking too much to notice the three of them gathered and whispering. “But it’s too early. They might just be false ones.” Despite that last one being a doozy. Linny doesn’t want to cause a scene only to come back later and have to say ‘just kidding!’, especially after she’s had disastrous meetings before with the Keroon Holder. “I’ll let you know if they get worse, but for now, let’s just keep going.” Stubborn to her core and hardworking, Linny refuses to believe she’s actually in active labor with her due date so far away still, and with that decision made, her attention goes back to Lord Tirvin.

When it appears that Linny has made a decision, Jalebren glances over his shoulder at F'dan before gently grabbing hold of the weyrwoman's arm. "Well, why don't we let the healers determine that? C'mon. Stand up." His tone of voice is a bit more demanding this time around. "Kadanth's going to alert them that we're on our way." Perhaps that'll be enough motivation for them to get up and get going — it's worth a shot since she's stubborn as a draybeast. Still crouched beside her, Jay attempts to stand up and bring Linny with him.

Deep breath, people, because F’dan doesn’t do this very often or very willingly. Keeping his face on Tirvin he says out of the corner of his mouth, face impassive, “your assistant’s right, Linny. Healers need to see you.” A glance over to the other dignitaries in the room just to check that they’re not interrupting anyone too much, but thankfully it seems that for now at least Tirvin’s sheer conversational momentum is keeping him going. “W’rin will have kittens if your waters break in the council chambers.” Really, can you imagine? He’d have everyone’s guts for garters.

Linny could fight one of them (let’s just take a moment a wild guess who, shall we?), but she can’t fight both of them when they team up against her, and so she shares a frown between them just to let them know how unhappy she is about this plan before she nods, lips pressed together while her hands go out for Jalebren to assist her in standing. For now, informing the room full of men what’s going on isn’t her main priority, she’ll do that when she’s standing: except that she can’t, because once she’s properly on her feet with her assistant’s help, a powerful contraction hits her, and she buries her face against his chest, hands grabbing at the tunic along his sides, and unfortunately, she doesn’t have the willpower to stay silent. Something about standing is making it feel ten times worse. Though, thankfully, having her face in Jalebren’s chest means that her groans are muffled, but they are loud enough to have grabbed the attention of everyone in the council chambers. Sorry F’dan, you never should have mentioned it, because her water breaking is exactly what happens next, but luckily for her, she’s at least wearing a dress so there’s no mess for her to clean up. Just a little something for the rest of them to have to deal with when she leaves.

All actions seem to blend into one as Jalebren helps Linny to her feet. Even though her face is buried into his chest, the sound of her groaning is enough to capture the attention of everyone in the room. A few heartbeats pass and then… her water breaks. If Jay could see the look on his face right now it would be priceless — but, there's no time to think about it, he needs to act. In one sweeping motion, he lifts Linny into his arms and presses her to him just before whirling around and making an absolute beeline for the entryway. There's a moment's pause as he passes F'dan: "Taking her to the infirmary." he says, voice low and quiet even though everyone's eyes are on him now. With that said, Jalebren keeps a steady pace as he carries Linny out of the council chamber — eyes focused on anything but W'rin and the kittens he might be having.

Oh Faranth. If it wasn’t enough that Linny just buried her face on that assistant of hers — can the kid even grow a beard yet? — in front of Lord Tirvin and the Weyr’s top brass, if it wasn’t enough that her moan of pain just stopped the meeting dead, then there is her water breaking. For a moment F’dan has to fight the urge to slam his face onto the desk, because really, of all the sharding moments. Couldn’t it be when she was in bed or eating or doing whatever it is she does for all the other candlemarks of the day, rather than here? Now?

He keeps it together though, more or less, though the hand that clenches the arm of his chair is white-knuckled and a tic starts at his temple. An apologetic smile is given to Lord Tirvin. “It seems it’s weyrwoman Linny’s time. Her assistant,” the tiniest of pauses here, “will take care of her. Please, continue.” As he settles back another assistant’s eye is caught, ‘drudge’ mouthed as he eyes… that on the floor. For the next few candlemarks F’dan will do a slightly better job of looking interested — largely because with Linny’s labour to think about he doesn’t have the extra mental capacity to deal with those scribbles on his slate.

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