Who

Kyriatis, Alyna

What

Alyna comes across Kyriatis after she has done a bad thing for a good reason.

When

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

Where

Nighthearth, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 05 Apr 2018 04:00

 

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Nighthearth

A comfortable nook, this natural extension of the living room is cozily attired with overstuffed chairs and a couple of well-worn loveseats. All have been covered in various shades of green, giving the very incongruous appeal of a miniature forest hidden away inside… a grove of man-made proportion. Fish stews and spicy white-wherry chili are often kept hot on the minor hearths east and west of the main, for those whose hours defy when meals are kept. Ornate, the largest hearth towers high, rich with carving and utilitarian in fashion: it holds court by providing the weyr with rich klah, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon wafting.


It's still very, very early— early enough that the nighthearth is deserted with the exception of one pyjama-wearing gardener whose long-cold klah sits abandoned beside her as she crouches in front of a low table. Kyriatis' brow furrows into a frown, her teeth resting sharply upon her lower lip as, painstakingly, she adds a piece of hide to a carefully constructed pattern upon the table in front of her. Sucking in a sharp breath through the gap in her teeth, she swallows, hard.

Bleary eyed but dressed, Alyna slips into the Nighthearth with a stretch and a yawn, a string of popping sounds can be heard as her joints re-align themselves. Afterwards with a shake of her limbs she wanders towards the klah here, breathing in the bracing aroma with a happy sigh as she pours herself a mug, taking it black. When she takes her first sip and begins to feel like a person again, she can start to take in those small details around her. When her ice blue eyes land on a familiar young gardner, intent at her task, she can't help but wander over to look over her shoulder, "Morning. What has you so focused this early in the day Kyria?"

Kyriatis squeals in surprise at the sound of Alyna's voice, so intent upon her task that she's otherwise failed to notice the arrival of anyone else. Glancing around, her eyes are big and— frightened? The scraps of hide on the table have formed most of what looks like a letter, painstakingly put back into together after having been cut to pieces. "I… think I may have done a bad thing, but maybe it's a good thing, in the end, because I think I found something?" And lucky Alyna gets to be the designated adult here!

Should Alyna looks more closely at the letter…

It begins, 'Dearest Mother.' The first few paragraphs describe ordinary goings on in the life of the writer - there's mention of her duties at Southern Boll Hold, where she seems to assist the Steward. There's also mention of her continued sadness at the various losses that she and her family have suffered - her own miscarriage, the deaths of S'vian, Linetta and Linetta's boys - but she's coping; she's had help from her husband and friends at Boll, and has taken advantage of a mindhealer's services. She expresses hope that 'dear little Nettie and her father' will be able to stay at the Weyr. Apparently some extended visits have been suggested: she regrets that she can't come to stay at Southern at present, and she'd rather her mother didn't visit Boll right now as her children need a normal routine at present.

In the final paragraph, the handwriting shows less confidence, and there are one or two scrapings-out and corrections. She expresses some concern about her mother after reading the last letter, and urges her - apparently not for the first time - to seek out whatever help can be found at Southern - surely a Weyr has a good mindhealer? It's signed, 'Your loving daughter, Vinsae'.

Alyna jumps herself a little bit at the girl's squeal, she wasn't being particularly quiet so she had assumed she had been noticed. This causes her klah to slosh in it's mug and spill over the sides a little bit, but Alyna has the sense to push it away from her so that it doesn't end up on her clothes. With a cluck of irritation, she is about to say something, but upon seeing the girl's frightened expression, she softens as she listens to her. "Found something? Let me have a look." And with that she leans over the hide that is being pieced back together. Her lips move slightly as she reads what she can, her eyes growing wider until she reaches the bottom with a gasp. "Where did you find this? And why is it all cut up?" Alyna's tone is gentle, but there is some urgency to it as well.

"Imayhavebrokenintolaeiva'sroomandgonethroughherthings," is blurted out all one breath, no spaces between words to speak of. Kyriatis' expression is horribly, horribly guilty, but her eyes are also wide and wild with enthusiasm and adrenaline. "It was in the trash! I found it and I brought it here and I think Ginger and I were right, she really is crazy with grief and killing everyone!" Now she sounds almost hysterical.

Alyna's eyes grow rounder as she tries to follow Kyriatis' rapid fire explanation. When the young girl's words actually register, her mouth forms a small 'o' and she looks from girl to the letter and then back again. When she notices the girl's almost hysterical tone, she sweeps the area to make sure they are alone before she pulls a small flask out from her back pocket. "One sip should settle you, just one. It's strong." gotta love that moonshine of Th'res'. "Don't worry about getting into touble, I'll vouch for you." She returns her attention then to the letter which she re-reads more thoroughly.

'One sip' is definitely all Kyriatis needs (or wants, for that matter): it's enough to make her choke and splutter cough, and go positively red in the face, but at least she doesn't seem quite so inclined towards hysteria, afterwards. She swallows, and then she blows a long breath out, giving the reconstructed letter a doleful glance. "You will? Um. Thank you. I know I shouldn't have, but… I'm right, aren't I? It's proof that she was mentally unstable, after everything that happened to her family. And that means she probably did poison everyone." She chews on her lip. "What should we do?"

Alyna winces sympathetically at the girl's coughing, "Sorry, it would have been better with whiskey, but it's all I had on hand." she takes the flask back and stows it in her back pocket before nodding along with Kyriatis' words. "Of course. You weren't doing it for mischief, any one will see that. But maybe next time you get an idea that might help, tell someone instead of taking it on yourself." She will give the girl a stern look at that, because she is the only adult in the vicinity. "And you're right, it is proof that maybe Laeivia was unstable, but it is not proof that she poisoned people." Although in Alyna's mind the evidence is surely stacking up against the missing Headwoman. "As to what we should do…" this makes the greenrider pause as she tries to think, eyes scanning ove the letter again as she ponders what the next steps should be.

Were Kyriatis standing up, she'd probably be scuffing her toe right now; metaphorically, she certainly is anyway, given the way her gaze ducks down towards the floor, and her shoulders hunch in. On the other hand, she doesn't exactly make any promises, either. "Normally," she says, answering the greenrider's last comment instead, "I would take a problem I had to the headwoman herself, because she's ultimately my boss' boss' boss or something, right? And I don't think my boss would be terribly useful. But maybe your boss, or your boss' boss? I mean… the Weyrleaders should know, right?" The very prospect of this seems to make the teen nervous.

"Ok, I can see that making sense to you." Alyna conceeds at the girl's explanation. "Like I said, considering the circumstances, I'm sure you're not in trouble." Although that's really not up to the greenrider so basically what she is offering is empty platitudes, although she certianly sounds convincing. Another long sigh as she nods at the girl's last. "Yes, I most certainly have to take this to my boss, uh, Wingleader I mean. There's a chain of command to follow." Alyna is hesitant though, the last time she brought evidence to weyrleadership, her efforts were rebuffed most unpleasantly although her own temper was frayed due to her dragon's prodiness. But then the fact that R'zel is now in charge of their wing, and he's her direct superior, makes it much clearer as to who she should bring this to. Standing up, her ice blue eyes scan the room for an idea on how to transport the pieces of the letter, she doesn't want to lose all the girl's hard work putting it together.

Kyriatis opens her mouth, closes it again, and then, abruptly: "You could get your dragon to call him or her here. And I could… leave. Or, um, I guess you could try and stack them in order? And then you could just say that you found it here and no one would need to know that I was involved." She looks up at the green rider, all big eyes and pleading expression. "Just in case I would be in trouble." See?! Perfect solution!

"He's very busy, he's probably already at drills which is where I should be," Alyna sighs heavily as she considers the girl's words, giving her a disaproving look when she expresses not wanting to get into trouble for her involvement. "Kyria, that's putting me in a bit of a spot. I'd have to lie, to my Wingleader, and if I say I found it here, the fact that it was really found in Laeiva's room could be important and then it wouldn't be known." She scrubs at her face with her hand as she sighs heavily, "I will do my hardest to keep your name out of it if I can ok?" that's about all that the greenrider is willing to promise at this point as she looks lost in thought for a moment before it looks like she has an idea. "I think I know how to do this." And then her eyes unfocus briefly.

Kyriatis wilts under that disapproval, but squares her shoulders following it, giving a little unhappy bob of a nod in acknowledgement. Her tongue sneaks out of her mouth to moisten her lips, her expression one of near-resignation until Alyna's final words, which brighten her expression rather considerably: she looks positively hopeful, waiting on tenterhooks for the greenrider to finish.

It takes several moments, but soon enough Alyna's little queen, Jem, pops in from between and between her claws she is carrying a rolled up piece of hide. When the greenrider holds her hand out to the firelizard, the little gold drops the roll in her hand obediently before flittering up to perch on her humanpet's shoulder where Alyna rewards her with scritches under her chin. Settling down onto her knees next to the low table, Alyna unrolls the blank hide next to the torn letter, thankful that this piece is margianlly better. "Ok, so we're going to move it over piece by piece onto this hide. Then when I roll it up tightly, I hope it is going to keep all the pieces in their proper places." Because this is what you have to resort to when Pern has no sticky tape.

If Kyriatis is disappointed that this is a solution for transporting the evidence, and not for avoiding any mention of her part in it (and she clearly is), at least the young gardener has the grace not to grouse about it, instead giving a sharp nod of understanding. "Felt and pins might be a more permanent solution," she suggests, as she leans forward to gently collect the first piece and migrate it across. "But this will keep it all together for now, I think. I hope." She pauses, glancing sidelong at the rider. "Thank you," she says, quiet and genuine. "Alyna. I mean it."

"Felt and pin would definitely be useful, but Jem knows how to bring me hides and I'd have to go looking for the others, and I'd rather not be any later to drills than I'm already going to be. I will remember that if there's time later though." Alyna gives the girl a warm smile to try and counteract the gardner's disspointment. "Don't look so glum, I don't think people are going to be that bothered with how this evidence comes to light, just that we now have it and that's something we didn't have before." She'll even reach out and give the girl's shoulder a comforting squeeze if she'll allow it. "No need to thank me girl." But her warm smile is accepting of the thanks as she helps to migrate the pieces over with her.

"I'm sorry I'm making you late," is blurted out, not that Kyriatis pauses to give Alyna time to respond to it, though that squeeze draws a briefly brilliant smile. "I think I just don't want to be the girl who breaks into places and snoops in people's things. I don't want people to think I would do that to them, if I suspected something!" Piece by piece, the letter is transferred across.

"R'zel will definitely understand me being late when he sees what I'm bringing him." Alyna reassures the girl her deft fingers plucking and replacing the pieces with mounting rapidity as she gets into a groove. "I don't think that's going to be a problem if this is the first and last time you do it. People should understand this was a one-time thing with extenuating circumstances." she pauses and looks pointedly at the girl then, her face serious, "At least that is what I will be telling them and you don't want to make a liar of me do you?" her tone may be firm, but this is Alyna, so there is a smirk playing on her lips.

Kyriatis sets down her final piece of the letter, and promptly puts that hand to her heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die," she swears, devolving back into her not-so-distant childhood with enough emphasis for it to seem both determined and genuine. "No lies. I should never have suggested you lie. I just…" She swallows, and then gives a sharp nod. "I know R'zel. I mean, I've met him. He seems ok. Trustworthy. So it'll be fine. Just… I think I really would die if the Weyrleaders knew my name."

Alyna smiles endearingly at Kyriatis when she repeats the swear of children everywhere, one this certain greenrider used herself many occasions, both when she meant it and didn't, but that's not something she's going to admit to right now. "Good." is the only response she will give as it looks like they have finished their task. "R'zel is a great Wingleader actually, I don't expect any problems with him." At the girl's last, she just chuckles, "You know they are just people like anyone else right? But I promised I will do my best to keep your name out of it and I intend to do that." She says with a firm nod of her head as she very carefully starts to rolls the hide up while keeping all the pieces in place, making sure it's tight enough that nothing is going to slip out.

"I know you did, and it's not that I don't believe you…" Sort of. Kyriatis looks a little confused, as if she's not entirely sure what she's trying to say here, or how she feels. Perhaps she's just nervous. Her gaze drops, watching the rolling of the hide with some satisfaction— of that, at least, she can be sure. "I should… get dressed," she admits, then, as if she's only just now remembered her attire. "Before work. And you should take that to R'zel, before you're too late." And yet… "Will you tell me how it goes?"

Alyna reaches into her pocket and pulls out a long piece of leather thong, usually used to tie up or back her blond hair as needed, and, with a flick of her beltknife, cuts it into three lengths. She ties one around the middle but also one on each end, tightening them to prevent any of the pieces falling out. When she is satisfied with her work, she pockets the hide and pushes herself up from her kneeling position with the help of the edge of the low table. "I understand, I'd tell you not to worry, but that rarely helps." She gives the other girl another reassuring squeeze, "Of course, I'll tell you how it goes. You just get to work and try to have a good day ok?" the greenrider drops her a friendly wink and another warm smile before she offers her a little wave and heads out into the bustle of the living Caverns, tying up her riding jacket in anticipation of going out into the drizzling winter weather.

Kyriatis smiles, nodding in response to Alyna's reassurance. It doesn't linger past the greenrider's departure, though: once she's alone in the nighthearth again, her expression sours, turning miserable. What a mess!

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