Who

Threvobek, Veresch

What

Rev sort of apologizes for past traditionalist behavior and comes out ahead after Veresch enlists him as "muscle".

When

It is the fortieth day of Winter and 40 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.

Where

Standing Stones, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 



Standing Stones

It is perhaps a pity that the Standing Stones lie in quiet isolation, half-forgotten in the Weyr's easternmost corner. Or perhaps it is inevitable: the grandiose beauty of these red rocks is ill-suited to Igen's coarse grit, and maybe only their loneliness allows them to survive unmarred. Whatever the reason, it cannot be denied that the Standing Stones, a lonely jumble of ancient boulders, have a glory about them. The tumbled field of pillars and arches has been shaped by eons of wind and water into strange shapes, twisted and rutted. The going is treacherous: only the Weyr's half-feral herd of caprines navigates the terrain with any ease. To the northwest, the lakeshore glimmers; to the east, rough-carved steps lead towards another ancient pile of rocks - though the Star Stones are less haphazardly placed than their Standing cousins.


It's a hybrid of luck and purpose that bore Threvobek here to this landscape. He was looking for Veresch and after asking the right person it was learned this place was a favorite for the Weyrwoman's young aide-de-camp. And in addition Ulmaren agreed that checking on the caprines would be valuable in case any had recently given birth. So scaling an assorted manner of rocks is the stablehand, eyes peeled for both girl and goat.

It's indeed a favourite of Veresch's. The height and relative isolation normally sort her mood well enough, serving for sulks and thoughts and the like. Today, however, finds her snuggled into a thick, way-too-large jacket, tucked in between the rocks. Ironically, he finds both his queries at once; there's a highly pregnant one close enough to her that the girl is stroking the doe's head whilst the pregnant belly bulks large in the thin sunlight. It's almost a restful scene, and Veresch's expression is thoughtful today.

A warm winter day and vigorous activity caused Rev to rebuke all but a thick tunic for this venture. He just so happens to blend into the surroundings, not being able to afford or desire clothes of color. Three yearlings bonded in age escape to a higher parapet of rock and watch the stablehand's every move, curiously distrusting. Identifying them politely, "Do, Re, Mi, how are you." Rev comes upon the mismatched pair from the bottom up, seeing the crown of Veresch's head lead into her crouched form and the nearby caprine. "Too bad the things I'm looking for weren't always docilely side-by-side." Legs bolster him forward and he advances on their same even ground, breathing steadily. That's a tricky climb. "You come here often, or so I heard."

Veresch's breathing is terribly even, a hint that she's been here for some time already. Another hint is that she's in one of the best sunny spots, and she looks calm. Her eyes roll up to peer sideways at him, and a small smile curves into being on her mouth. It's a pretty picture… until she opens her mouth at least. "If you want docile, go and chase some cotholder girl, yeah?" she suggests, expression prim. "You're not going to find that in the Weyr. Still, you've found me." Another scritch to the doe's ears. "This yours? She likes the sun as much as my 'lizards do." Her feet shift a little aside to give him a sunny butt-perch as well. "How're things, Rev?"

Threvobek pans a gaze out to the vista as Veresch lights into him, but the sight is always impressive and there is no sign of rancor from him unlike their last meeting. "Times do change." These words act to bridge their differences with neither having to acquiesce their polar points of view. "Not mine per se, but I was there when she was born and now she's having ilk of her own— twins more'n likely, maybe a triple." He hasn't settled yet, taking up a spot in front of Veresch and doing the Captain Morgan stance on a jut of red stone. Rev's head turns and he looks determined. "I want you to excuse my behavior that last night, I really didn't want to see any harm visit you." Enough so that he trailed Veresch until she was out of the bazaar.

There's a blink from Veresch. Rev has not struck her as the kind to apologise easily, or even care about them — it makes the impact doubly as big, thus the uncomprehending stare for a few. A smile blooms on her lips then, wide and happy, and she nods her head in acceptance of the apology. "That's nice of you, thank you! I was a bit of a brat too. It's just… growing up isn't easy recently." He's young enough that just maybe he'll understand if she explains that, unlike her parents that she loves, but doesn't understand too well. "Apology accepted." She reaches out to twitch at the closest leg's hem, tugging it. "Come on and sit down, ok? I have to strain my neck if you loom that tall. I have an idea."

Veresch's shock is cause for personal celebration because Threvobek isn't sure he'll be a witness to that state very often. He also grins very widely at having gotten the girl's, ahem, goat. "What, astonished? Good. I wish you could have seen that face just now." Still crowing, he visually checks the caprine, idly feels her ear for temperature. The doe flicks the base of that ear and shifts. Back to sunbathing. "I'll give you that," he sits in a hurry, giving the impression of falling but his posture is too precise for that. Raising the back of one leg a painful stone is swiped from the dirt. "You parents must be wondering what to do with you." Again, the neutral pitch. "What's your idea?" Color him intrigued.

One step forward, two steps back. At least the verbal tapdance that is conversation between these two will never be dull. "Funny man. I've not depended on my parents for what to do since last Turn. So far, I'm still doing alright." Well, somewhat alright. She pauses whilst he sits. "I went to the Reika caravan the other day, and had to walk through the Zingari one to get there, and something strange happened that made me think of you. I know the area like the back of my hand, but all of a sudden it just seemed strange and everyone had the face of a stranger, and I almost panicked and ran away. A guy helped me, but…" She takes a deep, deep breath, staring far over the bowl. "I need someone to work with me for a little. You're athletic enough, and my father trusts you, and I'll have someone to go outside the Weyr with. A…" She tries on the word 'partner' in her mind, then devils that notion. "A sidekick."

Threvobek doesn't quite have the luxury of space to stretch one of his legs out so it's drawn up and supporting his corresponding arm. He looks at his own fingernails then the rest of the hand still dirty from the morning's work and the climb. Not dull indeed, Rev's mentally staggers with Veresch's 'emancipation' and as he listens he's lifting his eyes to the sky for some sense of steadiness, that it hasn't turned green on a whim and will remain predictably constant. The wind takes his hair when the decision's made to face Veresch. "You mean a chaperon." Faranth take him. Rev lightly guffaws but at least now she's making some sense. "I accept so long as I can get away from the stables. I think I can work on Ulmaren though." Pulling on one ear— this is somewhat exciting. "Where're we headed?"

For a moment Veresch forgets she's trying to be a very dignified sixteen years, and sticks out her tongue at him. "I don't need a chaperon," she insists. "I mean, it's not like you have to protect my virtue. I can do that myself." These Oldtimer women! "But I'd like someone to be there whilst I get my nerve back up, and it's not like you do anything exciting at the stables really." So she can totally steal him away, right? "We can practice in the Weyr at least until I know where — have you ever really snuck around the Bazaar at night? For my training I used to pretend that I was a boy over at the Wher." That would be the scummiest gambling hall slash companionship joint in the back alleys of the bazaar, where it might be blood instead of urine you step over in the alley. "I can't pretend to do that anymore, really." Not with a voice that remains soprano even as she shoots up, delicate skin despite dirt, and breasts deciding to show up at least.

"Sweet Faranth flaming, what am I getting myself into?" Threvobek bemoans to his ambivalent friend the sky. He cuts back to Veresch strongly, "I know I don't exactly hold Igen in my hands at the stables, but— as a boy? The Wher?" The teen winces, shutting his eyes tight and pinching whatever skin he can find on his brow. "If you, or the Weyrwoman for that matter, need information that badly why isn't there a man to do the dangerous stuff?" If he's a party to this madness may as well cut to the chase. "A guard?" Realizing the fact of the matter, "a capable guard?"

Veresch suppresses the desire to smack him. It's not going too well, from the twitch of her jaw. "No man, and I'm pretty sure no guard - capable or not - would have been able to pretend to be a boy, Rev. I don't know if you've noticed, but you men have ludicrously wide shoulders mostly, and muscles, and most Igen males run to tall. None of you could pretend to be a scabby, dirty orphan boy." She reaches out to poke at his closest shoulder as if to prove her point. Poke, poke. Sharp little finger. "Besides, better than a young girl, which would have been nothing but bait in a place like that. I don't do it anymore, like I said." Pause. "But you'll help, right? Man like you, I figure you're good with a cudgel when you have to be, and distressingly more intelligent than you like to pretend."

"C'mon, tell me you don't act like this too." Rev beseeches the caprine among them. Her response is silence and a trickle of pee. Rev is not deterred! "Not a boy, I mean a man can go to these places," watch his hand move and form finger-legs, "and feed results to you without you needing to be there. You and Weyrwoman Sadaiya can clink glasses under drudges with fans." Shoulder flinches from the pokes. It's all worked out! "Unless you like dressing in rags as a boy in which case," expression bald, "kissing marriage good-bye is yer least concern." Threvobek draws his free leg up to match the angle of the other. "My friend Segany is a guard and taught me a few things one way or the other," mostly how to be inept and how to kill with one blow, less of the more effective in-between approaches. "I'll swear on Jivayath and help you but you have to hear what I tell you." Now listening is an entirely different matter.

There's another nose-wrinkle from the girl. "I am not suited to being as barefoot and pregnant as the doe, thank you very much," she says haughtily, but there's a rill of good humour there, a trace of understanding. "I know. I wouldn't do it these days anymore, I can't do it anymore. I mean, look at me. I need someone…" She swallows, looks away. "I need someone to get over the fear with, someone that won't shiv me in the ribs whilst I'm thinking a row of pretty purple wagons are giant worms about to creep over me." One hand flutters as she moves her feet out of the trickle of urine's path. "I'm hearing, okay? I'm hearing. This is difficult for me too, having to grow up in a society where most men see women as… I don't know. Portable broodmares to be put on a shelf, I suppose." She pinches her eyes shut. "I'm trying."

If it were up to a majority of nowtimers the female/male status quo would remain as unequal as it was. These sentiments are Threvobek's birthright but now that oldtimers and their ideals are here to stay he must decide if his sentiments remain fixed or flex. "Then we understand each other. Somewhat. I'm not such a bad guy you know, you'll see." He leans closer, smiles without teeth, and sits back to frame the goat in his eyes, culminating a time she'll inevitably freshen. "If you're gonna be up here a while, mind keeping an eye on her? I'll check on her before sundown."

Veresch nods solemnly, as if that first by him is a promise; indeed, she takes it as such, and does not seek to spoil it. Her smile is more relaxed (a bit of teeth), and she nods to his request. "I'll watch out for her, if the apprentices are busy. She looks like she's ready to pop any moment, so I'll get word to you if you need to come more quickly, okay?" One hand lifts, then falls in greeting. "Bye, Rev. Thanks for listening. I appreciate it."

Threvobek scrambles to his feet without his knee colliding with a knob of red rock. "Hey, if you're up here often we just as well might give you a cane and call you a herder." He's starting down the slope now. "In case you ever want to take it easy!" There's teeth to him now but he doesn't stay in view very long. Mi claims ground the stablehand just trod, bleating to his mother below.

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