Turn 19 turnover
Who: Cirse, Hattie, Jaeyi, Kwei, T'rev, W'ton, NPCs
Where: Fort gather grounds
When: Turnover afternoon
What: People dance, drink, try to pass fake marks.
"Nice way to spend some time with the old man, hmn?" Even with that term, 'old man,' there's no small amount of lash-fluttering for the mere thought of certain charming (if really old!) harpers. Jaeyi clips the line of thought with a knit to her brows, attending instead the rest of what T'rev's on about, which-- in the middle of dancing-- is even trickier to follow than the usual Stuff She Doesn't Get (tm). "What do you mean, folks like you or Kai? All hillbilly teasing aside, you're not exactly an illiterate wretch, are you?"
Kwei is up on the stage playing gitar with some of the other harpers, the small gaggle of adoring fans hanging around the stage watching the Harper, or possibly one of the others, who knows with the giggling girls of today. It's not all that long before the faster song starts to come to and end and that means it's time for the slow dance. Kwei can be seen switching out instruments for his beloved harp, the journeyman taking up centre stage to sing while the apprentice readies himself to play.
"Yeah. It's nice for him to pass things on, nice for me to learn. Just ... good all around," T'rev agrees as that dance tune plays out. Jaeyi frowns, T'rev listens, then nods. "I was, pretty much," the bronzerider says, untroubled. "I could read but I had trouble with the fancy words, the longer ones and I didn't write so well neither. The Journeyman at Telgar set me right though." On the dance floor when the faster tune ends, T'rev pauses and nods towards a side table. "Get you that drink, so you can listen to Kwei proper-like?"
Just fringing on guilty, Jaeyi asks, "Should I quit teasing you about being a bumpkin? Seeing as it's apparently really, like, true?" Without further ado, without much time for him to properly answer that, she starts wending her way off the dance floor and toward one of the benches surrounding it, surrounding the dais, weaving neatly through the crowd with a brightening grin at the gaggle of doe-eyed girls ready to descend on the Harpers as they take turns exiting the stage. "Something warm. But not strong. I'll wait here." Run-along-now.
Accompanying Jaeyi off the floor, T'rev laughs again. "You can tease all you like. Don't offend me none /because/ it's true," the bronzerider informs with a little roll of shoulders. He keeps a hold of one of her hands, bends to kiss it with a semblance of a polite bow. "Be right back with that," he promises before leaving her to join in the ogling.
Wandering around is pretty much the order for the day. W'ton's spent his time going from booth to booth to booth looking over pretty much everything for sale. He's got a bag slung over one shoulder that already has purchases in it. A new belt, a pair of gloves, a couple of small pieces of jewelry. He may not have a lot of marks, but what he has he seems to be making stretch as far as he can. Aside from a stop to eat something he's been moving non-stop since he got here. After all he missed most of the gather season. If he's left with this one real shot he's not going to miss out. Right now he's visiting another weaver, such a shock, and looking over blankets with a keen eye.
It's the little Fortian Harpers turn to shine as he runs his fingers across the strings as he gazes out into the crowd waiting for the Journeyman's signal to start playing. Catching sight of a dark haired beauty in the crowd of fans he smiles and blows a kiss in her direction, figuring it's safe with al the girls down there. On the mark of the journeyman, Kwei starts to play the slower song, the journeyman coming in a after a few bars to sing the enchanting love song. 'The Lady of Boll.' Couples gather on the dance floor to dance nice and close to wind down this particular set while others start to wander off or gather round to watch the apprentice play and the Journeyman sing.
After a few hours of making the rounds, herself, visiting dignitaries and possibly air-kissing a hopefully clean baby cheek or two, Cirse has offloaded her own few purchases (whether or not they involved the actual handing over of marks) and now she must have a great interest in blankets. Or, perhaps it's only in one of the blanket-shoppers, at whom the woman has been looking for the past few minutes once a gesture of her hand has told the salesclerk no, not now. Then, a few steps later, she's at his shoulder. "W'ton." She's not wearing the bells today, for warning.
Jaeyi leans on her hand a moment to watch T'rev go tearing off on an errand for her, few things being more gratifying in life, then settles back to chase away the first brave lad that offers to keep her company with a politely firm, "Thank you. No." Just pulling her shawl around against the chill-- whose bright idea was it to have one of the biggest Gathers of the Turn at the dead of winter?-- she turns her attention to the playing. As promised, she looks duly enamored of the musicians in general if not one in particular. Girls and harpers; there's just no way around it.
After several hours of Fort's youngest goldrider being dragged back into the role of elder sister and therefore guide, parent and plaything all in one, Hattie has finally been released from the dance square by her youngest siblings, leaving her to wander freely. Glancing from one booth to the next with quite a focused expression, she would appear to be a woman on a mission, that is until the next song starts and she casts a look back over her shoulder. Not really her kind of song, so she moves on ahead and pauses beside a booth with a number of ridiculously shiny things for sale. Not her kind of thing either, but at least she manages to be polite to the poor soul who starts extolling the virtues of some of the more gaudy pieces.
Gone the space of ten minutes or so, T'rev waits in line for the drinks. Once at the head of the line, he opts for spiced cider for both of them, the non-hard kind and carefully makes his way back towards the dance square, mindful not to get jostled too much, because both of those mugs are /steaming/ hot. "Didn't figure you for the shinies type," he drawls to Hattie as he starts to pass by, recognizes her and slows. "Happy turnover, Hattie."
"No, no," W'ton's telling the shopkeeper with a sunny grin. "That one in the back. In the dark red. Aha. Yes, that's the one." It's in the back being one of the nicer blankets and therefore possibly more expensive than he might seen worth. But, he is dressed well at least so the blanket is being fetched when a woman's voice turns his head. "Ah, weyrwoman," he says to Cirse in a warm voice. "Here I was thinking my night could not get any better and I have clearly been lying to myself."
With the love song coming to a close, both Journeyman and Kwei stand and step forward to take a bow towards the crowd before turning away with a wave to allow the next set of Harpers onto stage to take up the music again. The little Harper spends a few moments to get his instruments packed away, his last stint of the night thankfully before he heads for the stairs down to ground level.
Which means, of course, that the three-apples-high harper will get bombarded by the equivalent of fangirls, the ones that have been prowling around for some time now. Presumably, the journeyman's either too impressive a species or too deft at untangling himself to suffer to quite the same extent. But there's two eager girls waiting to proclaim how much they loved that song, how talented they think Kwei is, and what's he doing for the rest of the night? Less apt to pounce, but certainly happy to watch other people do so, Jaeyi stays safely occupying her bench and chasing people away from it.
There's her 'yes, I'm so terribly interested, do continue' act gone and Hattie just shoots T'rev a /look/ that she gives up and turns into a cheeky smile for him and a toned-down version turned to the gentleman so sure of making a sale. She quietly excuses herself and takes a couple of steps towards the Wingleader. "You ruined it and you rescued me from being irritated at the same time, so I should be thankful," she murmurs low. "So, Happy Turnover," the weyrling says more brightly. "Horizon chasing tonight, or just going to stick around here?"
Dark eyes move back towards the shopkeeper and the blanket W'ton points out, before affixing themselves once again upon the weyrling. "Yes," Cirse says without other preliminaries. "W'ton, you and I are going to have a talk. However, it will not be tonight. One imagines this will not ruin your evening. Be prepared, and remember to check the selvages."
While the blanket is being gathered up carefully to be sure it's not dragged while be carried to a potential buyer W'ton is free to listen to what the weyrwoman says. "I look forward, as ever, to speaking with you, weyrwoman," he says with a sunny grin. "And I am at your service, of course. Did you come here alone? Because if so consider my request of a dance. I've left room in my schedule." He is definitely shameless or at least irrepressible. Thankfully Cirse is spared more 'charm' by the arrival of the weaver with the red blanket who makes a show of studying the weyrlings fingers for dirt before she'll allow him to touch the product.
Three apples high and making his way into a crowd of people who are unfortunately mostly taller than he is and that makes it harder for Kwei to makes his way towards the person he had arranged to meet up with and had spotted from the stage. The two girls who accost him are furnished with his ever so charming smile as he dips an extravagant bow to them. "Why thank you so much Ladies, I am truly honoured that you thought so much of my playing." He offers his hand out to them in order to kiss both of their hands. "I'm afraid I have someone to meet tonight." He apologises, his tone and manner all sweet as he dashes any hopes they may have had.
Grinning, T'rev lifts one of the mugs in toast to the goldrider. "Live t'serve," he notes cheerily enough. "And thanks. Already did my horizon-chasin', this is the last stop." He nods towards Jaeyi's bench where the baker sits speaking to Kwei. "Jaeyi came with, had a good time at Nerat. And you, any fine plans for this evenin'?"
"No, I did not come here alone." Cirse does smile, but even at the best of times it can be difficult to tell just how literal she's being... given that she rode here on Peirith. "If you make your request when the time comes, I will most likely consider it. Good evening, W'ton. Weaver," and she has an polite nod and smile for the woman that becomes appreciably warmer upon her consideration of the weyrling's hands. Without further niceties, she turns and reenters the crowd, her destination the dance square's surrounds.
Jaeyi could go and rescue him. It would be chivalrous of her. But she looks pretty where she is and pressing through a bunch of people to collect one small harper is not quite reason enough to ruin that. She will, at a convenient parting of people, send a curl of her fingers off to find Kwei and splash a little extra metaphorical ice-water on the hopes and dreams of starry-eyed girls. One of them starts to pout, but the music will pick up again and there will be other harpers to glom onto before the night's over. "Let's go get our place back before someone steals it!" says one to the other, dragging off to where they can best see the stage.
Hattie snorts and clearly thinks better of nudging or swatting at T'rev, considering the mugs. She leans a little and peers over towards Jaeyi and Kwei sit and simply nods. "Know the Harper. Not the girl," she thinks aloud. "Anyway, good to know you're having fun. Hopefully not leaving a trail of destruction in your wake," she teases. An overdramatic sigh to follow and, though she feigns long-suffering, the smile won't be banished. "Aside from being pulled around like a ragdoll by my siblings? I should probably go find that bronzerider of mine," she jokes.
"I shall see you later then, ma'am," W'ton tells Cirse with a grin. Then there's the business at hand and his, clean enough to pass inspection, hands are studying the blanket carefully. A quiet conversation begins about the way it was made, how big it is, when it was made, and all the stuff that goes on before any serious bargaining can begin.
It's with a grateful smile that Kwei escapes the fan girls to their own devices and heads over towards the baker and her Bench. He flashes her a charming smile on arrival and dips an elegant bow to her as if he'd never met her before. "Such a radiant light, her beauty shining out of the crowd like a beacon." He offers out his hand. "How nice to see you, may I join you and bath in the simple pleasures of your company?" He asks her, a big grin on his face, he's probably been practising that for weeks.
"Ain't met Jae?" T'rev's brows hike on upwards. "Baker's apprentice," he's happy enough to explain. "We're --" and there the words fail briefly, then he laughs, shrugs, opts for: "seein' each other, so no, no destruction." He winces with sympathy though at her description regarding her family. "Glad that's over for you then. Ain't no fun gettin' pulled too hard nowhere." A look around for W'ton is brief and unsuccessful. "Good luck with catchin' him up. Maybe see you later for a spin 'round the floor?" T'rev invites with a nod in that direction. He waits on her answer before starting to step away back towards his presumed date.
With pragmatism that totally fails to match the florid speech, Jaeyi offers, "I would like to be there when you rehearse these lines. Just once. In front of a mirror, is it?" She sets her fingers ever-so-prettily on his offered hand, the other one patting the bench next to her in precisely the way she failed to pat it for everyone else that thought to impose on her domain. "You may sit. And I'm sorry there wasn't any window-shopping, though at least I got to see you perform, hmn?" With ample cheer for her good fortune.
Hattie smirks. "You're almost cute when you're flustered," she decides. "I'll let you get back to... seeing her." She steps back a few paces and goes to turn away and conduct her search, a wave and, "Of course, if you can keep up with me!" called back over her shoulder to T'rev. Across the way she goes, once again focused on the booths and what's being sold, drifting more towards the clothing side of things than the shiny and frivolous.
It takes a little while to get to where Cirse is going, particularly if she's taking some care not to be rude about it, and it will take a little while longer if this next possible meeting proves to be a delay. "Flint," she says once she has not only spotted the wingleader but decided to actually cross down the line of traffic to intercept the man, and done so. It takes getting a better look at his face and his haircut and his nice if partly flying-disarranged clothes for her to further decide, "You look... clean."
Kwei grins and lifts her fingers to his lips for a light kiss before he follows motion of the other hand and sits himself down on the bench with a grin. "Just in my head I'm afraid, after that I have to let my natural charm and intuition figure out the best thing to compliment you on or compare you to at the time." He keeps a hold of her hand if she doesn't remove it of course and settles his own hand, palm up on his leg as he glances around. "That's okay, I ended up taking part in the concert up at the Hall this afternoon, playing for all the Lords and Ladies." He tells her with a bit of a dramatic sigh for the event, even if he did enjoy it immensely. "Did you get everything ordered that you need?" He asks her, back to more practical business.
The general beginnings of bargaining have settled into the hard part where prices fly back and forth across the blanket. Finally the two come to a mutually agreeable price and W'ton counts out the marks. On the counter, not on the blanket. When the last one is set down he unslings the bag over his shoulder like he's going to be making room in it for the blanket.
Laughing, T'rev shakes his head. "Ain't flustered, just not sure what to call not-exclusive-but-more-than-just-sex-and-not-committed," the bronzerider says a little bluntly, lifts a mug again in Hattie's direction as she turns to head off. "You bet. I'll do my best!" T'rev calls after Hattie, starts to amble Jaeyi-and-Kwei-ward again only to find himself face to face with Fort's /other/ goldrider. "Evenin', Weyrwoman," he says taking a breath and does a little half-bow thing with his head, still mindful of the mugs he's got in a hand apiece, which are themselves, still steaming. "Happy turnover t'you. Mostly clean. Been dancin' a while. Enjoyin' the gather? And may I say that you look lovely this evenin'? I like the color." A nod to her gown.
The marks handed by W'ton are snatched up almost the second his hands leave them, a common enough occurrence at these events though what follows is not as common. "What the...." The stallkeeper runs her hand over one of the marks, face growing redder as she examines it, "You little sneak!" One rather wrinkled hand shoots out, fingers fastening round W'ton's wrist before she shrieks out a word nobody likes to hear, let alone at a gather. "Thief!"
Only at the last moment of being distracted by and wandering past a booth offering pretty much nothing but ribbons and ribbons and ribbons (and Elaruth does love her rider to wear ribbons) does Hattie spy W'ton at the next one over. "You're so predictable," she breathes out, maybe not even loud enough for him to hear. She traipses over the few steps and jumps to a stop beside him, setting white skirts swaying and probably scuffing her ankle-boots at the same time. Not incredibly ladylike, either. But then that stallkeeper shrieks and all she can do is blurt out, "What?"
"Reaaalllly?" drawls Jaeyi at the mention of Lords-and-Ladies. So easily enthralled, the lowborn masses. "I'd like to have an invitation to that party. How was it? And don't say stuffy. I'd rather go on believing it was elegant and delightful." She does not reclaim her hand, which likely goes without saying, but makes a face to have to answer, "No. This is the first time I've sat down in hours, so it may just have to wait for the spring thaw, because I'm not going back--" A look over her shoulder, toward the stalls, too far to get an idea what's just unfolded for W'ton. "--over there any time soon."
Hands stop the unfastening of the bag and W'ton stares at the weaver like she's just sprouted another head. "What? What in Faranth's name are you going on about?" His hand jerks, but he doesn't try to pull it from the woman's grip. Standing still he just stares and when Hattie's voice comes along he turns to look at her with a touch of anxiety to his gaze. "I have no idea." The blanket sits there in all its soft red glory and it looks like he's not going to be touching it for awhile. "That's the exact amount we agreed upon, madam," he says very politely.
Cirse returns a slight nod for the tip of his head, and with an eye for the apparently unspilled mugs observes, "Still mostly clean," despite his maneuver. A smile is lurking there, somewhere. "I am, and you may." Someone's unhappy, out there from whence she'd come? Surely not so unusual at a Gather, particularly when they're distant enough to not disturb her concentration, though others nearby might find it more noteworthy. "Had our apprentice yet played, by the time you left the floor? I'm afraid I was detained."
Kwei nods his head as he settles himself into the bench. "I twas okay, from the stage you can't see all that much to be honest, they're all sitting out arrayed in front of you." He tells her, his free hand waving an arc in front of them as if painting a picture for her to go alongside his words. "Mostly it's a sea faces and immaculate hairstyles, with fancy pins and clasps to hold it all together." His hand motioning all the time, trying to frame people that pass by in front of them in his descriptions. "Though some of them need to find better tailors, some of the dresses were awful and not really all that flattering, yours is much better. I do like your hair done up like that, it opens up your smile and that lovely sparkle you have in your eyes." He smiles, finishing it off with a, "Very Radiant."
"You think I'm blind?" The weaver's other hand, the one not clutching onto W'ton for dear life, waves his payment at him. "Worthless!" She screeches another "Thief!" which gets a few of the other stallholders perking up, moving over, and in some cases looming. "You check them marks. You check 'em!" This directed at one of the other stallholders, "He tried to slip me a fake 'n!"
Cirse's smile may lurk, T'rev's blossoms bright. "Great t'hear that and compliments on the choice," the wingleader continues. The holler over yonder draws T'rev's focus for a moment, then his gaze returns to the Weyrwoman. "He was playin' yep, looks like he's takin' a break just now," the bronzerider explains with a nod towards Jaeyi and Kwei.
"Thank you. Though it's had to be repinned a half-dozen times," with something accusing in her tone, though Jaeyi goes on to sit up a little straighter to receive the compliments, a posture that can only be called preening. "You, of course, look spandy as ever." Just a quick reach to thumb-and-finger the shoulder of his tunic, then to smooth it back the way it was before, unharmed. "No Vani?" A look traipses around the immediate vicinity, which has yet to be impacted by any claims of thievery, everyone over here too busy dancing or flirting or both.
"I think no such such, madam," W'ton says clearly as he seems to be doing his best to stay calm. "And I assure you I've no idea what you are talking about. Those marks there are good as far as my knowledge of them. I have no reason to try to slip you a fake one." He looks at the gathering vendors, perhaps trying to find one he's dealt with already to get their assurance he paid them fair, but he doesn't seem to spy a known face. Other than Hattie, of course, whom he looks at again briefly.
"Why would he give you a fake here in broad daylight?" Hattie - probably unwisely - demands. "How stupid do you have to be to hand over a fake knowingly?" This is asked of nobody but the air itself, the goldrider looking rather desperately up at W'ton. "If it's fake, what in Faranth's name are you doing with it?" she asks him, trying to keep her voice just low enough for the surrounding, looming merchants to miss a few words. She draws herself up and tries to make herself just that bit taller than she is when she address the stallkeeper. "He clearly isn't going anywhere, so might you consider unhanding him?"
"Very kind, Flint." Cirse turns just enough to follow where he's looking, more or less, or estimate. In any case, "Yes. With another of our apprentices, I see," only by then the dark eyes have found T'rev again. "Perhaps you will escort me." Even with hands already full.
There's some movement along the stall aisles, looks like the cry of thief got spread and a couple of Hold guards are coming to investigate.
"Be delighted to," T'rev replies promptly to the Weyrwoman and tucks out an elbow for Cirse to take. "Where to, Weyrwoman? Apprentices, or ..." brows lift, questioningly. The steam rising off of both mugs is starting to thin a little, slow down, indicating cooling.
Kwei is appreciative of the preening, the compliment is genuine and well intentioned. "As always." He explains, "It's nice, though you don't have any of your curls hanging down to play with." He adds with a smile, watching her face while she fiddles with his collar. "I have to make a good impression in front of all those Lords and Ladies, but more importantly so I can look presentable for my more adoring fans." He obviously includes her in that by the way he smiles at her. "Vani couldn't get the night off, too many people were coming here and wanting to leave their brats back at the weyr, so she's got a double shift tonight and into the morning. She was over briefly this morning, had to head home a bit after lunchtime." He tells her, twisting slightly so he can see her better. "So what have you been up to all day that this is the first you've had a seat, I assume a dance is out of the question?" He asks her.
"I ain't letting him go till I gets paid! Ain't nothin' wrong wi' my eyes. I knows a fake when I sees 'n." The weaver all but snarls at Hattie, then screeches out another "Thief!" just for good measure. Another stallholder, smith by appearance, snatches up the marks from where the weaver slams them onto the table, turning one in particular over and over before nodding, "Thats not a proper beastcraft mark. It's a good try, but no way it's right."
"Do you get the impression," asks a distracted Jaeyi. And it must be quite a distraction if she's actually turning toward the stalls in the middle of receiving her compliments, eyes tracking a few people who've caught wind of some to-do over yonder. "That something might be going on over there?" Twisting, she peers at what, from this distance, looks to be little more than a crowd doing what a crowd does best: swelling in one general direction for purposes that most of them don't understand. It won't have her getting up just yet, but it does leave her with a thoughtful frown even while answering, "Only out of the immediate question, little harper, maybe in a few minutes?"
Cirse says readily, "Towards the apprentices, I think. Unless you intended to bring those mugs somewhere else. I fear your wine, or is it cider? may be cooling." She glances over her shoulder then, and then it twitches, more a minor tic than anything more protracted.
"Cider," T'rev answers readily, "and thank you, yes, Jaeyi did ask for something warm, so, much obliged to be able to drop this off." The bronzerider waits until his elbow is taken, then steps off at a pace suitable for skirts, to angle around the dance square further to meet up with apprentices both.
Spying the guards on the way W'ton rethinks the idea of freeing his hand from the weaver's hold. Nope. Going to stay right here so as to not look like he's trying to get away. Quietly to Hattie he says, "Hattie, for the love of...I /don't/ know. I've been buying stuff all day. I don't have any of my original marks left. The change is all from other purchases except that one mark piece." Not the fake at least. He peers at the mark in question, or tries to, but with his hand held he can't check out what the other vendor is doing. "I've been buying things all day here and have not had one complaint."
"Thief? Where thief?" Yes, that would be a big and burly guard approaching with lowered brows and suspicious face to regard the little group by the weaver's stall. "This one? The weyrling?" he queries of the weaver. "His marks, is that it?" The other guard has taken up a position slightly behind the weyrlings to prevent any sudden moves or escapes, though he's a younger fellow, not as developed and looks distinctly nervous.
Kwei glances back over his shoulder between them to better see the commotion, he doesn't get up there's no point at his height unless he could get to the front of it all. "I'm sure if we need to know about it someone will start shouting. At least they're moving in the other direction." He states quietly before turning back with a smile. "That's good to hear, you did promise me a dance." He claims as he settles himself back to get comfy, his eyes flickering up to the harpers on the stage who likely have a better view of what's going on, but there's no clues coming from that direction so he brings his attention back to his friend.
Luckily for the cider, Cirse does not particularly lean on T'rev's elbow, it being more a formal show than anything substantial. As they approach the other pair, though perhaps before they're completely in earshot, "How thoughtful of you, to make certain the apprentice enjoys her Gather."
Hattie's still peering up at W'ton as she thinks and still for all that thinking, all she comes up with is, "Look, if he can give you the marks and you can keep the so-called fake so nobody else gets their hands on it, will you let it go? Isn't it obvious he doesn't know what you're talking about?" she questions of anyone who'll listen. "We're not going anywhere, he's not trying to escape," she protests, a little edgy, maybe worried about what their other halves might be thinking of all this.
Jaeyi's, "/Hopefully/," comes on the heels of someone bustling to find out what the fuss is all about, bumping the bench in his progress; behold, mob mentality. "We don't wind up trampled before someone thinks to, like, warn us." She's just managed to spot the bearer of two mugs and his turquoise-bedecked companion, lifts a perfectly perfect smile to greet the return of one and the arrival of the other, and tacks on in an undertone that will likely be lost beneath the shift of the crowd; "Actually, I promised to sit in your lap and let you compliment me all night, but I think that might have to wait."
The smith's "Where did you get this?" is almost drowned out by the weaver's, "He done it! He tried t'slip me a fake 'n! And he was all for runnin' if I hadn't grabbed his wrist." A slight embellishment, but she's upset poor dear and moves around the booth a little so she can get a better look at the guards. "You show 'im. You show 'im!" This is directed at the smith who immediately hands the marks over to the guard. "I still want paid! He's got my blanket! You make him pay proper before you take them away." Somehow Hattie has achieved accomplice status.
Poker face on. T'rev flashes Cirse a smile and bobs his head. "Do try t'make sure Jaeyi has a good time," he says /quite/ deadpan, could be totally serious. "We're good friends." Understatement of the turn, just as they near the other pair. "Beg pardon, Weyrwoman," T'rev says as he gently frees his elbow and extends one of the mugs towards the baker's apprentice. "Kwei, happy turnover, nice t'see you. Sounded real good up there. Jae, here's your drink, it's still warm but probably won't be burnin' your tongue any time soon, which might be a good thing."
The guards listen to the weaver, listen to Hattie and the larger of the two is looking pretty thunder-faced when nervous nellie there at the back clears his throat. "Sir -- she's a goldrider sir, don't think she'd be lying, sir." More throat-clearing and big-and-burly squints more. "Huh, you're right." He eyes Hattie thoughtfully for a moment, then jerks a thumb at W'ton. "You willin' to vouch for him? And even so, pour out all your marks, both of you right here," he thumps the counter-top. "You got more on you we might have to talk. If it's the only one ..." and he looks around the Gather suspiciously, "we got a bigger problem, maybe."
W'ton's pouch is emptied out. It is pretty anemic by now what with the all day spending spree. "I have never-" the weyrling starts but stops. Not going to argue. Going to be quiet and just look innocent. Although he's having trouble not looking at the weaver with something between anger and annoyance in his eyes.
Kwei grins at that statement, "I distinctly remember dancing was to be done as well, so I could see your new dress properly." He tells her though when he sees that Cirse is walking towards them with T'rev he murmurs a quiet. "You may need to make do with my wonderful greeting for a bit as well." He flashes the baker a smile as he gets to his feet and bows to Cirse and T'rev, mainly Cirse. "Good day to you Weyrwoman, T'rev, how nice of you to honour us with your presence." He gives it his best shot with his charming smile and all, despite the remembrance that she didn't seem particularly impressed by it last time.
"I was starting to wonder if you'd been arrested, what with the guards swarming all of the sudden." Jaeyi, after a chiding frown at T'rev for the delay, with a warm drink, turns her nose into the remnants of steam appreciatively, takes a drink, sighs as if fortified, as if all is forgiven. It's only afterward, giving Kwei time to do-the-honors for Cirse that she offers a more subdued greeting along the lines of; "Happy Turnover, Cirse. Weyrwoman." Title.
"Yes," Hattie snaps, then she's fumbling for marks not spent yet and setting them down ridiculously carefully as if to prove a point. "See?" she demands, before anyone's seen, well, anything probably. It's easier to look defiant than angry or worried, so it's the first of those she goes for, glaring up at guards and merchants, what remains of her calm mostly gone.
The burly guard waits until the marks are poured out and starts to go through them. "No other ones in here," he pronounces and scoops all but a replacement for the fake into the pouch, hands it back to W'ton and the replacement to the weaver. Likewise, Hattie's are scooped and stowed and handed back. "There's your good mark, ma'am. Now I suggest you go through your till n' check all." He looks over towards nervous man and flicks his fingers a little. "Don't think they're aimin' to run Shayon. Go get Garrist n' pass word down, whole Gather's t'be checked, every stall. Unnerstood?" Then he turns back towards the pair of weyrlings and the weaver. "You two whippersnappers, you stick close, hear? You're weyrlings right? Word'll be sent up t'Weyr. You, try to remember whatall you did today n' where you bought n' spent." Jabbing a finger at W'ton. "Thank you kindly for your cooperation." This more politely to Hattie, though he's shooting her 'tude a look of askance.
Dragon> From his spot farther off, sprawled on a patch of snowy field, Dasarth quietly marches in. While the bronze doesn't say anything he makes himself at home in her mind to provide a distraction or comfort or annoyance. However she wants it. (Dasarth to Elaruth)
"She wasn't here at the time." The smith stands up for Hattie, even if the weaver is still babbling on about them both needing to be arrested. Like it or not the weaver has to drop W'ton's wrist, though takes a moment to spit at his feet just in case he had forgotten she was angry. Marks are scooped up, scowling the whole time and muttering about... pretty much everyone involved, including the guards. Word begins to spread among the stalls as people drift away, the fun over and no arrests happening for now.
"Sorry Jae, bumped into Hattie n' Cirse here, had t'pay my respects," T'rev says simply. Good manners. Important. Once Jaeyi's all set with her mug, the bronzerider takes a healthy pair of swigs from his own. Well, he /has/ been working up quite the sweat on the dancefloor all evening so far. It's while he's drinking that the gaggle of girls who were ogling the harpers, now decide to crowd-ogle instead and hurry by, knocking his elbow. After all that careful transport across dangers untold, yada yada, to get the drinks here without spilling, T'rev winds up splashed from chin to chest. Good thing 'steaming hot' doesn't apply anymore. "Ah sh--," the bronzerider cuts off there and clears his throat. "Kwei, hope t'hear you play again tonight, Cirse, Jaeyi, please excuse me ladies, seems I'm in need of gettin' me a spare shirt." Beat. Eyeing the Gather stalls all around. "Or a new one, come to think of it." He finishes off the contents of his mug and with a polite bow, steps away to go ... deal with the mess, though he's eyeing that other stall curiously again on the way.
Dragon> To Dasarth, Elaruth is up on the fireheights, gone absolutely still and tense. The water in the marshes sits brackish and stale, the reeds dead and dry as though someone's walked on through and torched them, stray bits of broken plant floating on the water's surface. As close to fury as she's ever been pushed, she welcomes Dasarth's presence and settles just as quietly.
If not particularly impressed as such, Cirse at least maintains a look that is not just polite but pleasant for the apprentices "Happy Turnover," she seconds. "Kwei, after the festivities are concluded, I would like you to..." but then T'rev gets himself splashed, and once she's drawn her skirt away from the potential mess, her mouth actually twitches. "No longer mostly clean. Go on, Flint," she wishes after the wingleader. Afterwards, "After the festivities have finished, Kwei, I would like you to send me a report with anything you might have heard, or overheard, around here about Fort Sea. I prefer trivial and exhaustive to a summary, though you may note any trends. Jaeyi, if you should hear such, please pass it along to him for the list." Imagine, not expecting her to write up one of her own!
Kwei bobs his head to T'rev as he heads off, leaving him with the two lovely ladies and a bench with a spare seat on it that he's not occupying because he's too polite to sit down again while the weyrwoman is still there. There's a bit of a wince at her request. "Yes Ma'am, I'm sure I can listen out for anything concerning my home." His tone suddenly going very formal. "There doesn't appear to be too many problems emerging at the moment, but if anything turns bad later it may be what sets the spark to other things." He glances towards Jaeyi as he straightens himself up and adds in an attempt to change the subject, "I have the last of those songs you requested finished off, one of the weaving songs I may need to borrow Kaida to perform for you with her, it's a knitting song and she's particularly good at it."
There ought to be pity or sympathy or disappointment to greet the mess T'rev's made of himself, but Jaeyi winds up grinning, though she attempts to hide the fact in her drink. There's every possibility that, in watching the bronzerider disappear into the crowd, she completely stopped listening to Cirse's instructions, for now she turns very round eyes back to the woman when her name comes in to play. But it would take a bigger fool than she is to say anything other than, "Oh, absolutely. Happy to help." She kind of quick-catches Kwei's eyes in there, conveying a mute "huh?"
"Yes, that is why you are particularly well-suited," is what Cirse has for Kwei. "As for the songs, they seem an instructive way to begin the new Turn. Do bring Kaida, if she is not required for other duties at the time." What she has for Jaeyi is a, "Wonderful," bright enough that she might have missed the apprentice's switch in attention, or perhaps it's because of that. "Then, if there is nothing else, I will wish you both a good rest of the Gather, and a good new Turn likewise."
Slowly but surely ripples of gossip fan out around the gather grounds, aided by the increased presence of guards checking over the stalls. Fake marks! Fort riders! Whisper whisper whisper. Eventually a cry goes up from one of the booths, a leatherworker this time who has found a fake mark in his takings but has no convenient weyrlings to blame it on.
Kwei nods his head and listens attentively. "I will do Weyrwoman." He replies, turning the charm back up again to hide his distaste for this latest task. "May the new turn bring you joy." It sounds like a proper farewell under the circumstances. He does wait a few moments to allow her to leave before he flops back next to Jaeyi.
Slowly the annoyance fades as W'ton turns away from the weaver. After she's done her spitting thing. Shaking his head he collects his blanket and then offers his arm to Hattie. "Why don't we go somewhere else. Where the people are a bit more...civilized?" Then he does look at the weaver and shakes his head. "Lucky for you this blanket is fine enough I'm not changing my mind after your treatment of me. I'll be telling my friends." And the guards? He has nothing to say to them. He just waits for Hattie's arm so he can leave the whole mess.
Yes, everyone else puts a nice spin on it, but Jaeyi just falls back on, "Thanks, same to you." She holds that perfect little smile in place, still a little phased by whatever she's supposed to do that she managed to miss finding out about-- not quite as phased by the idea of /asking/ what that was, but natural charm usually works where cognition fails.
Cirse only smiles in her turn, then more literally turns, proceeding along the edge of the floor and leaving all those things to do (or to get out of) for the future. With Kwei waiting only that minimally long, she'll spot that flopping with a backward glance, but she keeps walking, and a time or two in the course of the evening she'll even be seen dancing... efficiently, neither inspiredly nor inspiringly, but dancing all the same.
"Civilized sounds good," Hattie murmurs, eyeing a number of the guards quite darkly, but that look gets aimed at W'ton as he continues on. If she could get away with it subtly, there'd be stepping on toes or the kicking of shins, but she can't, so she doesn't and just falls silent after that. "I assure you that it's a bit late to be making a run for it, don't you think?" she points out to the burly guard. "We won't be going all that far." Reaching out, she takes W'ton's arm and stares at the floor, lest glares be directed somewhere they shouldn't and provoke more trouble.
"You see if anyone sells you anythin' here again. Thief." The weaver spits after W'ton again, utterly unconvinced of his innocence. She glares after him for a time, checking her takings before slowly but surely packing up her booth, muttering about thieves and no-good bronzeirders as she does. Perhaps unsurprisngly one of the guards stays nearby, keeping an eye on the weaver as much as keeping an eye on the gather.
Kwei sidles over to Jaeyi once he's comfy on the bench. "Sooo my oh so talented baker. Have you recovered enough for that dance, or has information gathering and reporting back to me got you too overwhelmed to manage?" He asks her with a faint smile, probably looking more worried about it than she will be.
Probably looking more worried? No, definitely. Jaeyi's worried just far enough to ask, "What information am I meant to be gathering? Something about Fort Seahold?" Sounds a little far-fetched to her, brows knitting while she watches Cirse slip into the crowd. She finishes enough of her drink to keep it from having been a waste of T'rev's hard-earned marks, sets the mug on the end of the bench next to her, and offers a hand to the harper. "You can clarify while we dance, how's that?"
Once they're far enough away from the trouble W'ton grins at Hattie and nudges her with his hip. "That's the last time I buy something for us," he tells her with a mock-scowl. "Here I thought a nice blanket to keep us warm would be a good thing." Shaking his head slowly he lets out a sigh. "Shells, I can't even remember everything I've bought. I mean the stuff I have in my bag, sure, but there's been food and warm cider...what a waste." Looking around he lowers his voice to ask, "Elaruth ok? What should we do now?"
Kwei sighs and it's with a bit of frown that he nods his head. "Yeah any gossip you hear about Fort Sea hold, you've to pass on to me and I've to report it all to Cirse." Hence the reason for his worry. She offers her hand to him though and he takes it. "Okay, lets dance our cares away?" He replies with a smile as he leads her off to the dance floor, looking for an opportunity to squeeze in, it's a fast one that's' playing at the moment and he drops his hand to the small of her back and, other hand in hers as he whisks her off.
The look Hattie shoots the bronzerider is somewhat pained, just as she nudges W'ton back and tries a smile. "Don't say that, now I feel awful," she pretends to protest. "We could start at one end of the Gather and go through it all? Or start wherever you did?" the goldrider suggests, evidently going into organization mode. She hangs her head for a few seconds, her fingers pressing the bridge of her nose. "She was... angry. Really, properly, angry. That was new. But... calmer now. Dasarth?" Feet slow and stop as she turns round to eye the rest of the booths. "I have to buy something, as much as that's not something that sounds fun right now. But I should. I said I would."
"Well, if you want to buy me something to make up for my pain," W'ton says in a wheedling tone accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's just wander and see what we see. No set path or anything. We'll just take our chances. I did see some nice buttons farther back." It's not clothes, right? Just accessories for clothes. There's points for that, right? He stops when she does and takes the opportunity to kiss the top of her head. "Dasarth was fine, but I was doing my best to stay calm. Last thing we needed was him roaring in to make a point. Asked him to check on her. Hope you're not upset. He wasn't real bothered though. Sure of our importance and superiority and all." Chuckling for that he shakes his head. "Finally that comes in handy, yea?"
"Gosh, lucky you." Jaeyi's derision lands thickly on that remark. "And your home hold, no less." She takes a moment to fuss with the drape of her shawl before she steps into the dance, hand-to-shoulder, a quick warning; "I'm not as good at this as I make it look like." Not that she's going to step on Kwei's toes, but maybe no fancy steps?
While one guard follows Hattie and W'ton at a semi-discreet distance, the other begin a search of the gather grounds. Another two merchants are soon grumbling about fakes, and one Hold resident nearly gets in a fight when he discovers that the last of his gather money is worthless. The guards move on, checking, questioning, but no explaination appears to be forthcoming.
Kwei smirks right back at her comment about the Hold. "Wonderful." He mutters before they're off and away, he does keep it relatively easy, it's a basic waltz hold just faster with all the spins in there that doesn't leave much breath for talking as they whirl and spin their way around until the song comes to and end. He remains holding onto her, it wasn't a full dance after all. "If the next one is a slow one do you want to stay?" He asks her, still with plenty of energy left. "Or shall we retreat so you can sit in my lap and listen to me commenting on all your good points for the rest of the night, or at least until you get bored of it?"
"Finally that comes in handy, yes," Hattie agrees, fighting the laughter that accompanies her words. "Not upset. She really was... pissed." Which isn't really a word for Elaruth at all, so the little queen must have been damn well furious. She nudges W'ton again, this time with her elbow. "I have to buy something for me with a mark I was given. You can have something for your pain out of /my/ marks... if you're good," she teases. "Come on, lead on to the buttons, then. And when we're done shopping, we can dance and then see if they'll actually let us go home!"
Jaeyi, with a slight twist of her lips; "Is Su okay about all that, by the way? I heard B'kaiv was involved, which at least explains the special present they left for Mecaith's ledge. Though not /why/ he'd do it." The memory is a nose-twitch, the nose-twitch is the beginning of a light smile. "If it's a slow one, I'll stay, and then we can go and sit and talk about how lovely I am. Or window-shop!" That last is a sudden memory of what she hasn't yet accomplished today.
"If they don't let us go home we'll be causing another scene because I'm going to," W'ton lowers his head to her ear and whispers something likely very naughty. With an innocent expression he changes their direction a bit to take them by the buttons. "There were some sets. Different shapes and metals. I was particularly impressed by a set of flowers all done in gold." And onward he goes to lead her to lots of buttons along with anything else that catches his eye. He's distracted by shiny things like she's not. At least on the dance floor they're going to be safe from that. Despite the ruckus he's still happy to be shopping and will be sure to show her everything he found when they return home.
Kwei nods his head with a smile as he keeps his arm wrapped around her waist while he waits for the band to announce and it's a fast one. "Looks like we're off to window shop." He tells her at the announcement, steering off the dancefloor before things get started and they can't escape. Once free he shifts to tuck the shawl round her shoulders and starts towards the stalls with her. "It's been such a lovely night so far and now I get to walk along with you on my arm, while you look at pretty things." He's grinning a touch too much.
"In your dreams will we /ever/ cause a scene like that!" Hattie pretends to be thoroughly shocked and appalled, yet the sly smile gives her away, as always. "Flowers?" she might be heard to exclaim, with affected exasperation, as they head off for more shopping. "People just aren't going to believe you're a bronzerider if you keep talking like this, you know..." Then there's shopping and dancing to be done before they make their way home. She might not like the overly shiny and Elaruth might want that mark spent on ribbons, but there's a compromise reached somewhere involving a pendant shaped like a ribbon twisted about on a breeze. Predictably accented with a very faint blue. And thankfully the scene-making is kept private.
Where: Fort gather grounds
When: Turnover afternoon
What: People dance, drink, try to pass fake marks.
"Nice way to spend some time with the old man, hmn?" Even with that term, 'old man,' there's no small amount of lash-fluttering for the mere thought of certain charming (if really old!) harpers. Jaeyi clips the line of thought with a knit to her brows, attending instead the rest of what T'rev's on about, which-- in the middle of dancing-- is even trickier to follow than the usual Stuff She Doesn't Get (tm). "What do you mean, folks like you or Kai? All hillbilly teasing aside, you're not exactly an illiterate wretch, are you?"
Kwei is up on the stage playing gitar with some of the other harpers, the small gaggle of adoring fans hanging around the stage watching the Harper, or possibly one of the others, who knows with the giggling girls of today. It's not all that long before the faster song starts to come to and end and that means it's time for the slow dance. Kwei can be seen switching out instruments for his beloved harp, the journeyman taking up centre stage to sing while the apprentice readies himself to play.
"Yeah. It's nice for him to pass things on, nice for me to learn. Just ... good all around," T'rev agrees as that dance tune plays out. Jaeyi frowns, T'rev listens, then nods. "I was, pretty much," the bronzerider says, untroubled. "I could read but I had trouble with the fancy words, the longer ones and I didn't write so well neither. The Journeyman at Telgar set me right though." On the dance floor when the faster tune ends, T'rev pauses and nods towards a side table. "Get you that drink, so you can listen to Kwei proper-like?"
Just fringing on guilty, Jaeyi asks, "Should I quit teasing you about being a bumpkin? Seeing as it's apparently really, like, true?" Without further ado, without much time for him to properly answer that, she starts wending her way off the dance floor and toward one of the benches surrounding it, surrounding the dais, weaving neatly through the crowd with a brightening grin at the gaggle of doe-eyed girls ready to descend on the Harpers as they take turns exiting the stage. "Something warm. But not strong. I'll wait here." Run-along-now.
Accompanying Jaeyi off the floor, T'rev laughs again. "You can tease all you like. Don't offend me none /because/ it's true," the bronzerider informs with a little roll of shoulders. He keeps a hold of one of her hands, bends to kiss it with a semblance of a polite bow. "Be right back with that," he promises before leaving her to join in the ogling.
Wandering around is pretty much the order for the day. W'ton's spent his time going from booth to booth to booth looking over pretty much everything for sale. He's got a bag slung over one shoulder that already has purchases in it. A new belt, a pair of gloves, a couple of small pieces of jewelry. He may not have a lot of marks, but what he has he seems to be making stretch as far as he can. Aside from a stop to eat something he's been moving non-stop since he got here. After all he missed most of the gather season. If he's left with this one real shot he's not going to miss out. Right now he's visiting another weaver, such a shock, and looking over blankets with a keen eye.
It's the little Fortian Harpers turn to shine as he runs his fingers across the strings as he gazes out into the crowd waiting for the Journeyman's signal to start playing. Catching sight of a dark haired beauty in the crowd of fans he smiles and blows a kiss in her direction, figuring it's safe with al the girls down there. On the mark of the journeyman, Kwei starts to play the slower song, the journeyman coming in a after a few bars to sing the enchanting love song. 'The Lady of Boll.' Couples gather on the dance floor to dance nice and close to wind down this particular set while others start to wander off or gather round to watch the apprentice play and the Journeyman sing.
After a few hours of making the rounds, herself, visiting dignitaries and possibly air-kissing a hopefully clean baby cheek or two, Cirse has offloaded her own few purchases (whether or not they involved the actual handing over of marks) and now she must have a great interest in blankets. Or, perhaps it's only in one of the blanket-shoppers, at whom the woman has been looking for the past few minutes once a gesture of her hand has told the salesclerk no, not now. Then, a few steps later, she's at his shoulder. "W'ton." She's not wearing the bells today, for warning.
Jaeyi leans on her hand a moment to watch T'rev go tearing off on an errand for her, few things being more gratifying in life, then settles back to chase away the first brave lad that offers to keep her company with a politely firm, "Thank you. No." Just pulling her shawl around against the chill-- whose bright idea was it to have one of the biggest Gathers of the Turn at the dead of winter?-- she turns her attention to the playing. As promised, she looks duly enamored of the musicians in general if not one in particular. Girls and harpers; there's just no way around it.
After several hours of Fort's youngest goldrider being dragged back into the role of elder sister and therefore guide, parent and plaything all in one, Hattie has finally been released from the dance square by her youngest siblings, leaving her to wander freely. Glancing from one booth to the next with quite a focused expression, she would appear to be a woman on a mission, that is until the next song starts and she casts a look back over her shoulder. Not really her kind of song, so she moves on ahead and pauses beside a booth with a number of ridiculously shiny things for sale. Not her kind of thing either, but at least she manages to be polite to the poor soul who starts extolling the virtues of some of the more gaudy pieces.
Gone the space of ten minutes or so, T'rev waits in line for the drinks. Once at the head of the line, he opts for spiced cider for both of them, the non-hard kind and carefully makes his way back towards the dance square, mindful not to get jostled too much, because both of those mugs are /steaming/ hot. "Didn't figure you for the shinies type," he drawls to Hattie as he starts to pass by, recognizes her and slows. "Happy turnover, Hattie."
"No, no," W'ton's telling the shopkeeper with a sunny grin. "That one in the back. In the dark red. Aha. Yes, that's the one." It's in the back being one of the nicer blankets and therefore possibly more expensive than he might seen worth. But, he is dressed well at least so the blanket is being fetched when a woman's voice turns his head. "Ah, weyrwoman," he says to Cirse in a warm voice. "Here I was thinking my night could not get any better and I have clearly been lying to myself."
With the love song coming to a close, both Journeyman and Kwei stand and step forward to take a bow towards the crowd before turning away with a wave to allow the next set of Harpers onto stage to take up the music again. The little Harper spends a few moments to get his instruments packed away, his last stint of the night thankfully before he heads for the stairs down to ground level.
Which means, of course, that the three-apples-high harper will get bombarded by the equivalent of fangirls, the ones that have been prowling around for some time now. Presumably, the journeyman's either too impressive a species or too deft at untangling himself to suffer to quite the same extent. But there's two eager girls waiting to proclaim how much they loved that song, how talented they think Kwei is, and what's he doing for the rest of the night? Less apt to pounce, but certainly happy to watch other people do so, Jaeyi stays safely occupying her bench and chasing people away from it.
There's her 'yes, I'm so terribly interested, do continue' act gone and Hattie just shoots T'rev a /look/ that she gives up and turns into a cheeky smile for him and a toned-down version turned to the gentleman so sure of making a sale. She quietly excuses herself and takes a couple of steps towards the Wingleader. "You ruined it and you rescued me from being irritated at the same time, so I should be thankful," she murmurs low. "So, Happy Turnover," the weyrling says more brightly. "Horizon chasing tonight, or just going to stick around here?"
Dark eyes move back towards the shopkeeper and the blanket W'ton points out, before affixing themselves once again upon the weyrling. "Yes," Cirse says without other preliminaries. "W'ton, you and I are going to have a talk. However, it will not be tonight. One imagines this will not ruin your evening. Be prepared, and remember to check the selvages."
While the blanket is being gathered up carefully to be sure it's not dragged while be carried to a potential buyer W'ton is free to listen to what the weyrwoman says. "I look forward, as ever, to speaking with you, weyrwoman," he says with a sunny grin. "And I am at your service, of course. Did you come here alone? Because if so consider my request of a dance. I've left room in my schedule." He is definitely shameless or at least irrepressible. Thankfully Cirse is spared more 'charm' by the arrival of the weaver with the red blanket who makes a show of studying the weyrlings fingers for dirt before she'll allow him to touch the product.
Three apples high and making his way into a crowd of people who are unfortunately mostly taller than he is and that makes it harder for Kwei to makes his way towards the person he had arranged to meet up with and had spotted from the stage. The two girls who accost him are furnished with his ever so charming smile as he dips an extravagant bow to them. "Why thank you so much Ladies, I am truly honoured that you thought so much of my playing." He offers his hand out to them in order to kiss both of their hands. "I'm afraid I have someone to meet tonight." He apologises, his tone and manner all sweet as he dashes any hopes they may have had.
Grinning, T'rev lifts one of the mugs in toast to the goldrider. "Live t'serve," he notes cheerily enough. "And thanks. Already did my horizon-chasin', this is the last stop." He nods towards Jaeyi's bench where the baker sits speaking to Kwei. "Jaeyi came with, had a good time at Nerat. And you, any fine plans for this evenin'?"
"No, I did not come here alone." Cirse does smile, but even at the best of times it can be difficult to tell just how literal she's being... given that she rode here on Peirith. "If you make your request when the time comes, I will most likely consider it. Good evening, W'ton. Weaver," and she has an polite nod and smile for the woman that becomes appreciably warmer upon her consideration of the weyrling's hands. Without further niceties, she turns and reenters the crowd, her destination the dance square's surrounds.
Jaeyi could go and rescue him. It would be chivalrous of her. But she looks pretty where she is and pressing through a bunch of people to collect one small harper is not quite reason enough to ruin that. She will, at a convenient parting of people, send a curl of her fingers off to find Kwei and splash a little extra metaphorical ice-water on the hopes and dreams of starry-eyed girls. One of them starts to pout, but the music will pick up again and there will be other harpers to glom onto before the night's over. "Let's go get our place back before someone steals it!" says one to the other, dragging off to where they can best see the stage.
Hattie snorts and clearly thinks better of nudging or swatting at T'rev, considering the mugs. She leans a little and peers over towards Jaeyi and Kwei sit and simply nods. "Know the Harper. Not the girl," she thinks aloud. "Anyway, good to know you're having fun. Hopefully not leaving a trail of destruction in your wake," she teases. An overdramatic sigh to follow and, though she feigns long-suffering, the smile won't be banished. "Aside from being pulled around like a ragdoll by my siblings? I should probably go find that bronzerider of mine," she jokes.
"I shall see you later then, ma'am," W'ton tells Cirse with a grin. Then there's the business at hand and his, clean enough to pass inspection, hands are studying the blanket carefully. A quiet conversation begins about the way it was made, how big it is, when it was made, and all the stuff that goes on before any serious bargaining can begin.
It's with a grateful smile that Kwei escapes the fan girls to their own devices and heads over towards the baker and her Bench. He flashes her a charming smile on arrival and dips an elegant bow to her as if he'd never met her before. "Such a radiant light, her beauty shining out of the crowd like a beacon." He offers out his hand. "How nice to see you, may I join you and bath in the simple pleasures of your company?" He asks her, a big grin on his face, he's probably been practising that for weeks.
"Ain't met Jae?" T'rev's brows hike on upwards. "Baker's apprentice," he's happy enough to explain. "We're --" and there the words fail briefly, then he laughs, shrugs, opts for: "seein' each other, so no, no destruction." He winces with sympathy though at her description regarding her family. "Glad that's over for you then. Ain't no fun gettin' pulled too hard nowhere." A look around for W'ton is brief and unsuccessful. "Good luck with catchin' him up. Maybe see you later for a spin 'round the floor?" T'rev invites with a nod in that direction. He waits on her answer before starting to step away back towards his presumed date.
With pragmatism that totally fails to match the florid speech, Jaeyi offers, "I would like to be there when you rehearse these lines. Just once. In front of a mirror, is it?" She sets her fingers ever-so-prettily on his offered hand, the other one patting the bench next to her in precisely the way she failed to pat it for everyone else that thought to impose on her domain. "You may sit. And I'm sorry there wasn't any window-shopping, though at least I got to see you perform, hmn?" With ample cheer for her good fortune.
Hattie smirks. "You're almost cute when you're flustered," she decides. "I'll let you get back to... seeing her." She steps back a few paces and goes to turn away and conduct her search, a wave and, "Of course, if you can keep up with me!" called back over her shoulder to T'rev. Across the way she goes, once again focused on the booths and what's being sold, drifting more towards the clothing side of things than the shiny and frivolous.
It takes a little while to get to where Cirse is going, particularly if she's taking some care not to be rude about it, and it will take a little while longer if this next possible meeting proves to be a delay. "Flint," she says once she has not only spotted the wingleader but decided to actually cross down the line of traffic to intercept the man, and done so. It takes getting a better look at his face and his haircut and his nice if partly flying-disarranged clothes for her to further decide, "You look... clean."
Kwei grins and lifts her fingers to his lips for a light kiss before he follows motion of the other hand and sits himself down on the bench with a grin. "Just in my head I'm afraid, after that I have to let my natural charm and intuition figure out the best thing to compliment you on or compare you to at the time." He keeps a hold of her hand if she doesn't remove it of course and settles his own hand, palm up on his leg as he glances around. "That's okay, I ended up taking part in the concert up at the Hall this afternoon, playing for all the Lords and Ladies." He tells her with a bit of a dramatic sigh for the event, even if he did enjoy it immensely. "Did you get everything ordered that you need?" He asks her, back to more practical business.
The general beginnings of bargaining have settled into the hard part where prices fly back and forth across the blanket. Finally the two come to a mutually agreeable price and W'ton counts out the marks. On the counter, not on the blanket. When the last one is set down he unslings the bag over his shoulder like he's going to be making room in it for the blanket.
Laughing, T'rev shakes his head. "Ain't flustered, just not sure what to call not-exclusive-but-more-than-just-sex-and-not-committed," the bronzerider says a little bluntly, lifts a mug again in Hattie's direction as she turns to head off. "You bet. I'll do my best!" T'rev calls after Hattie, starts to amble Jaeyi-and-Kwei-ward again only to find himself face to face with Fort's /other/ goldrider. "Evenin', Weyrwoman," he says taking a breath and does a little half-bow thing with his head, still mindful of the mugs he's got in a hand apiece, which are themselves, still steaming. "Happy turnover t'you. Mostly clean. Been dancin' a while. Enjoyin' the gather? And may I say that you look lovely this evenin'? I like the color." A nod to her gown.
The marks handed by W'ton are snatched up almost the second his hands leave them, a common enough occurrence at these events though what follows is not as common. "What the...." The stallkeeper runs her hand over one of the marks, face growing redder as she examines it, "You little sneak!" One rather wrinkled hand shoots out, fingers fastening round W'ton's wrist before she shrieks out a word nobody likes to hear, let alone at a gather. "Thief!"
Only at the last moment of being distracted by and wandering past a booth offering pretty much nothing but ribbons and ribbons and ribbons (and Elaruth does love her rider to wear ribbons) does Hattie spy W'ton at the next one over. "You're so predictable," she breathes out, maybe not even loud enough for him to hear. She traipses over the few steps and jumps to a stop beside him, setting white skirts swaying and probably scuffing her ankle-boots at the same time. Not incredibly ladylike, either. But then that stallkeeper shrieks and all she can do is blurt out, "What?"
"Reaaalllly?" drawls Jaeyi at the mention of Lords-and-Ladies. So easily enthralled, the lowborn masses. "I'd like to have an invitation to that party. How was it? And don't say stuffy. I'd rather go on believing it was elegant and delightful." She does not reclaim her hand, which likely goes without saying, but makes a face to have to answer, "No. This is the first time I've sat down in hours, so it may just have to wait for the spring thaw, because I'm not going back--" A look over her shoulder, toward the stalls, too far to get an idea what's just unfolded for W'ton. "--over there any time soon."
Hands stop the unfastening of the bag and W'ton stares at the weaver like she's just sprouted another head. "What? What in Faranth's name are you going on about?" His hand jerks, but he doesn't try to pull it from the woman's grip. Standing still he just stares and when Hattie's voice comes along he turns to look at her with a touch of anxiety to his gaze. "I have no idea." The blanket sits there in all its soft red glory and it looks like he's not going to be touching it for awhile. "That's the exact amount we agreed upon, madam," he says very politely.
Cirse returns a slight nod for the tip of his head, and with an eye for the apparently unspilled mugs observes, "Still mostly clean," despite his maneuver. A smile is lurking there, somewhere. "I am, and you may." Someone's unhappy, out there from whence she'd come? Surely not so unusual at a Gather, particularly when they're distant enough to not disturb her concentration, though others nearby might find it more noteworthy. "Had our apprentice yet played, by the time you left the floor? I'm afraid I was detained."
Kwei nods his head as he settles himself into the bench. "I twas okay, from the stage you can't see all that much to be honest, they're all sitting out arrayed in front of you." He tells her, his free hand waving an arc in front of them as if painting a picture for her to go alongside his words. "Mostly it's a sea faces and immaculate hairstyles, with fancy pins and clasps to hold it all together." His hand motioning all the time, trying to frame people that pass by in front of them in his descriptions. "Though some of them need to find better tailors, some of the dresses were awful and not really all that flattering, yours is much better. I do like your hair done up like that, it opens up your smile and that lovely sparkle you have in your eyes." He smiles, finishing it off with a, "Very Radiant."
"You think I'm blind?" The weaver's other hand, the one not clutching onto W'ton for dear life, waves his payment at him. "Worthless!" She screeches another "Thief!" which gets a few of the other stallholders perking up, moving over, and in some cases looming. "You check them marks. You check 'em!" This directed at one of the other stallholders, "He tried to slip me a fake 'n!"
Cirse's smile may lurk, T'rev's blossoms bright. "Great t'hear that and compliments on the choice," the wingleader continues. The holler over yonder draws T'rev's focus for a moment, then his gaze returns to the Weyrwoman. "He was playin' yep, looks like he's takin' a break just now," the bronzerider explains with a nod towards Jaeyi and Kwei.
"Thank you. Though it's had to be repinned a half-dozen times," with something accusing in her tone, though Jaeyi goes on to sit up a little straighter to receive the compliments, a posture that can only be called preening. "You, of course, look spandy as ever." Just a quick reach to thumb-and-finger the shoulder of his tunic, then to smooth it back the way it was before, unharmed. "No Vani?" A look traipses around the immediate vicinity, which has yet to be impacted by any claims of thievery, everyone over here too busy dancing or flirting or both.
"I think no such such, madam," W'ton says clearly as he seems to be doing his best to stay calm. "And I assure you I've no idea what you are talking about. Those marks there are good as far as my knowledge of them. I have no reason to try to slip you a fake one." He looks at the gathering vendors, perhaps trying to find one he's dealt with already to get their assurance he paid them fair, but he doesn't seem to spy a known face. Other than Hattie, of course, whom he looks at again briefly.
"Why would he give you a fake here in broad daylight?" Hattie - probably unwisely - demands. "How stupid do you have to be to hand over a fake knowingly?" This is asked of nobody but the air itself, the goldrider looking rather desperately up at W'ton. "If it's fake, what in Faranth's name are you doing with it?" she asks him, trying to keep her voice just low enough for the surrounding, looming merchants to miss a few words. She draws herself up and tries to make herself just that bit taller than she is when she address the stallkeeper. "He clearly isn't going anywhere, so might you consider unhanding him?"
"Very kind, Flint." Cirse turns just enough to follow where he's looking, more or less, or estimate. In any case, "Yes. With another of our apprentices, I see," only by then the dark eyes have found T'rev again. "Perhaps you will escort me." Even with hands already full.
There's some movement along the stall aisles, looks like the cry of thief got spread and a couple of Hold guards are coming to investigate.
"Be delighted to," T'rev replies promptly to the Weyrwoman and tucks out an elbow for Cirse to take. "Where to, Weyrwoman? Apprentices, or ..." brows lift, questioningly. The steam rising off of both mugs is starting to thin a little, slow down, indicating cooling.
Kwei is appreciative of the preening, the compliment is genuine and well intentioned. "As always." He explains, "It's nice, though you don't have any of your curls hanging down to play with." He adds with a smile, watching her face while she fiddles with his collar. "I have to make a good impression in front of all those Lords and Ladies, but more importantly so I can look presentable for my more adoring fans." He obviously includes her in that by the way he smiles at her. "Vani couldn't get the night off, too many people were coming here and wanting to leave their brats back at the weyr, so she's got a double shift tonight and into the morning. She was over briefly this morning, had to head home a bit after lunchtime." He tells her, twisting slightly so he can see her better. "So what have you been up to all day that this is the first you've had a seat, I assume a dance is out of the question?" He asks her.
"I ain't letting him go till I gets paid! Ain't nothin' wrong wi' my eyes. I knows a fake when I sees 'n." The weaver all but snarls at Hattie, then screeches out another "Thief!" just for good measure. Another stallholder, smith by appearance, snatches up the marks from where the weaver slams them onto the table, turning one in particular over and over before nodding, "Thats not a proper beastcraft mark. It's a good try, but no way it's right."
"Do you get the impression," asks a distracted Jaeyi. And it must be quite a distraction if she's actually turning toward the stalls in the middle of receiving her compliments, eyes tracking a few people who've caught wind of some to-do over yonder. "That something might be going on over there?" Twisting, she peers at what, from this distance, looks to be little more than a crowd doing what a crowd does best: swelling in one general direction for purposes that most of them don't understand. It won't have her getting up just yet, but it does leave her with a thoughtful frown even while answering, "Only out of the immediate question, little harper, maybe in a few minutes?"
Cirse says readily, "Towards the apprentices, I think. Unless you intended to bring those mugs somewhere else. I fear your wine, or is it cider? may be cooling." She glances over her shoulder then, and then it twitches, more a minor tic than anything more protracted.
"Cider," T'rev answers readily, "and thank you, yes, Jaeyi did ask for something warm, so, much obliged to be able to drop this off." The bronzerider waits until his elbow is taken, then steps off at a pace suitable for skirts, to angle around the dance square further to meet up with apprentices both.
Spying the guards on the way W'ton rethinks the idea of freeing his hand from the weaver's hold. Nope. Going to stay right here so as to not look like he's trying to get away. Quietly to Hattie he says, "Hattie, for the love of...I /don't/ know. I've been buying stuff all day. I don't have any of my original marks left. The change is all from other purchases except that one mark piece." Not the fake at least. He peers at the mark in question, or tries to, but with his hand held he can't check out what the other vendor is doing. "I've been buying things all day here and have not had one complaint."
"Thief? Where thief?" Yes, that would be a big and burly guard approaching with lowered brows and suspicious face to regard the little group by the weaver's stall. "This one? The weyrling?" he queries of the weaver. "His marks, is that it?" The other guard has taken up a position slightly behind the weyrlings to prevent any sudden moves or escapes, though he's a younger fellow, not as developed and looks distinctly nervous.
Kwei glances back over his shoulder between them to better see the commotion, he doesn't get up there's no point at his height unless he could get to the front of it all. "I'm sure if we need to know about it someone will start shouting. At least they're moving in the other direction." He states quietly before turning back with a smile. "That's good to hear, you did promise me a dance." He claims as he settles himself back to get comfy, his eyes flickering up to the harpers on the stage who likely have a better view of what's going on, but there's no clues coming from that direction so he brings his attention back to his friend.
Luckily for the cider, Cirse does not particularly lean on T'rev's elbow, it being more a formal show than anything substantial. As they approach the other pair, though perhaps before they're completely in earshot, "How thoughtful of you, to make certain the apprentice enjoys her Gather."
Hattie's still peering up at W'ton as she thinks and still for all that thinking, all she comes up with is, "Look, if he can give you the marks and you can keep the so-called fake so nobody else gets their hands on it, will you let it go? Isn't it obvious he doesn't know what you're talking about?" she questions of anyone who'll listen. "We're not going anywhere, he's not trying to escape," she protests, a little edgy, maybe worried about what their other halves might be thinking of all this.
Jaeyi's, "/Hopefully/," comes on the heels of someone bustling to find out what the fuss is all about, bumping the bench in his progress; behold, mob mentality. "We don't wind up trampled before someone thinks to, like, warn us." She's just managed to spot the bearer of two mugs and his turquoise-bedecked companion, lifts a perfectly perfect smile to greet the return of one and the arrival of the other, and tacks on in an undertone that will likely be lost beneath the shift of the crowd; "Actually, I promised to sit in your lap and let you compliment me all night, but I think that might have to wait."
The smith's "Where did you get this?" is almost drowned out by the weaver's, "He done it! He tried t'slip me a fake 'n! And he was all for runnin' if I hadn't grabbed his wrist." A slight embellishment, but she's upset poor dear and moves around the booth a little so she can get a better look at the guards. "You show 'im. You show 'im!" This is directed at the smith who immediately hands the marks over to the guard. "I still want paid! He's got my blanket! You make him pay proper before you take them away." Somehow Hattie has achieved accomplice status.
Poker face on. T'rev flashes Cirse a smile and bobs his head. "Do try t'make sure Jaeyi has a good time," he says /quite/ deadpan, could be totally serious. "We're good friends." Understatement of the turn, just as they near the other pair. "Beg pardon, Weyrwoman," T'rev says as he gently frees his elbow and extends one of the mugs towards the baker's apprentice. "Kwei, happy turnover, nice t'see you. Sounded real good up there. Jae, here's your drink, it's still warm but probably won't be burnin' your tongue any time soon, which might be a good thing."
The guards listen to the weaver, listen to Hattie and the larger of the two is looking pretty thunder-faced when nervous nellie there at the back clears his throat. "Sir -- she's a goldrider sir, don't think she'd be lying, sir." More throat-clearing and big-and-burly squints more. "Huh, you're right." He eyes Hattie thoughtfully for a moment, then jerks a thumb at W'ton. "You willin' to vouch for him? And even so, pour out all your marks, both of you right here," he thumps the counter-top. "You got more on you we might have to talk. If it's the only one ..." and he looks around the Gather suspiciously, "we got a bigger problem, maybe."
W'ton's pouch is emptied out. It is pretty anemic by now what with the all day spending spree. "I have never-" the weyrling starts but stops. Not going to argue. Going to be quiet and just look innocent. Although he's having trouble not looking at the weaver with something between anger and annoyance in his eyes.
Kwei grins at that statement, "I distinctly remember dancing was to be done as well, so I could see your new dress properly." He tells her though when he sees that Cirse is walking towards them with T'rev he murmurs a quiet. "You may need to make do with my wonderful greeting for a bit as well." He flashes the baker a smile as he gets to his feet and bows to Cirse and T'rev, mainly Cirse. "Good day to you Weyrwoman, T'rev, how nice of you to honour us with your presence." He gives it his best shot with his charming smile and all, despite the remembrance that she didn't seem particularly impressed by it last time.
"I was starting to wonder if you'd been arrested, what with the guards swarming all of the sudden." Jaeyi, after a chiding frown at T'rev for the delay, with a warm drink, turns her nose into the remnants of steam appreciatively, takes a drink, sighs as if fortified, as if all is forgiven. It's only afterward, giving Kwei time to do-the-honors for Cirse that she offers a more subdued greeting along the lines of; "Happy Turnover, Cirse. Weyrwoman." Title.
"Yes," Hattie snaps, then she's fumbling for marks not spent yet and setting them down ridiculously carefully as if to prove a point. "See?" she demands, before anyone's seen, well, anything probably. It's easier to look defiant than angry or worried, so it's the first of those she goes for, glaring up at guards and merchants, what remains of her calm mostly gone.
The burly guard waits until the marks are poured out and starts to go through them. "No other ones in here," he pronounces and scoops all but a replacement for the fake into the pouch, hands it back to W'ton and the replacement to the weaver. Likewise, Hattie's are scooped and stowed and handed back. "There's your good mark, ma'am. Now I suggest you go through your till n' check all." He looks over towards nervous man and flicks his fingers a little. "Don't think they're aimin' to run Shayon. Go get Garrist n' pass word down, whole Gather's t'be checked, every stall. Unnerstood?" Then he turns back towards the pair of weyrlings and the weaver. "You two whippersnappers, you stick close, hear? You're weyrlings right? Word'll be sent up t'Weyr. You, try to remember whatall you did today n' where you bought n' spent." Jabbing a finger at W'ton. "Thank you kindly for your cooperation." This more politely to Hattie, though he's shooting her 'tude a look of askance.
Dragon> From his spot farther off, sprawled on a patch of snowy field, Dasarth quietly marches in. While the bronze doesn't say anything he makes himself at home in her mind to provide a distraction or comfort or annoyance. However she wants it. (Dasarth to Elaruth)
"She wasn't here at the time." The smith stands up for Hattie, even if the weaver is still babbling on about them both needing to be arrested. Like it or not the weaver has to drop W'ton's wrist, though takes a moment to spit at his feet just in case he had forgotten she was angry. Marks are scooped up, scowling the whole time and muttering about... pretty much everyone involved, including the guards. Word begins to spread among the stalls as people drift away, the fun over and no arrests happening for now.
"Sorry Jae, bumped into Hattie n' Cirse here, had t'pay my respects," T'rev says simply. Good manners. Important. Once Jaeyi's all set with her mug, the bronzerider takes a healthy pair of swigs from his own. Well, he /has/ been working up quite the sweat on the dancefloor all evening so far. It's while he's drinking that the gaggle of girls who were ogling the harpers, now decide to crowd-ogle instead and hurry by, knocking his elbow. After all that careful transport across dangers untold, yada yada, to get the drinks here without spilling, T'rev winds up splashed from chin to chest. Good thing 'steaming hot' doesn't apply anymore. "Ah sh--," the bronzerider cuts off there and clears his throat. "Kwei, hope t'hear you play again tonight, Cirse, Jaeyi, please excuse me ladies, seems I'm in need of gettin' me a spare shirt." Beat. Eyeing the Gather stalls all around. "Or a new one, come to think of it." He finishes off the contents of his mug and with a polite bow, steps away to go ... deal with the mess, though he's eyeing that other stall curiously again on the way.
Dragon> To Dasarth, Elaruth is up on the fireheights, gone absolutely still and tense. The water in the marshes sits brackish and stale, the reeds dead and dry as though someone's walked on through and torched them, stray bits of broken plant floating on the water's surface. As close to fury as she's ever been pushed, she welcomes Dasarth's presence and settles just as quietly.
If not particularly impressed as such, Cirse at least maintains a look that is not just polite but pleasant for the apprentices "Happy Turnover," she seconds. "Kwei, after the festivities are concluded, I would like you to..." but then T'rev gets himself splashed, and once she's drawn her skirt away from the potential mess, her mouth actually twitches. "No longer mostly clean. Go on, Flint," she wishes after the wingleader. Afterwards, "After the festivities have finished, Kwei, I would like you to send me a report with anything you might have heard, or overheard, around here about Fort Sea. I prefer trivial and exhaustive to a summary, though you may note any trends. Jaeyi, if you should hear such, please pass it along to him for the list." Imagine, not expecting her to write up one of her own!
Kwei bobs his head to T'rev as he heads off, leaving him with the two lovely ladies and a bench with a spare seat on it that he's not occupying because he's too polite to sit down again while the weyrwoman is still there. There's a bit of a wince at her request. "Yes Ma'am, I'm sure I can listen out for anything concerning my home." His tone suddenly going very formal. "There doesn't appear to be too many problems emerging at the moment, but if anything turns bad later it may be what sets the spark to other things." He glances towards Jaeyi as he straightens himself up and adds in an attempt to change the subject, "I have the last of those songs you requested finished off, one of the weaving songs I may need to borrow Kaida to perform for you with her, it's a knitting song and she's particularly good at it."
There ought to be pity or sympathy or disappointment to greet the mess T'rev's made of himself, but Jaeyi winds up grinning, though she attempts to hide the fact in her drink. There's every possibility that, in watching the bronzerider disappear into the crowd, she completely stopped listening to Cirse's instructions, for now she turns very round eyes back to the woman when her name comes in to play. But it would take a bigger fool than she is to say anything other than, "Oh, absolutely. Happy to help." She kind of quick-catches Kwei's eyes in there, conveying a mute "huh?"
"Yes, that is why you are particularly well-suited," is what Cirse has for Kwei. "As for the songs, they seem an instructive way to begin the new Turn. Do bring Kaida, if she is not required for other duties at the time." What she has for Jaeyi is a, "Wonderful," bright enough that she might have missed the apprentice's switch in attention, or perhaps it's because of that. "Then, if there is nothing else, I will wish you both a good rest of the Gather, and a good new Turn likewise."
Slowly but surely ripples of gossip fan out around the gather grounds, aided by the increased presence of guards checking over the stalls. Fake marks! Fort riders! Whisper whisper whisper. Eventually a cry goes up from one of the booths, a leatherworker this time who has found a fake mark in his takings but has no convenient weyrlings to blame it on.
Kwei nods his head and listens attentively. "I will do Weyrwoman." He replies, turning the charm back up again to hide his distaste for this latest task. "May the new turn bring you joy." It sounds like a proper farewell under the circumstances. He does wait a few moments to allow her to leave before he flops back next to Jaeyi.
Slowly the annoyance fades as W'ton turns away from the weaver. After she's done her spitting thing. Shaking his head he collects his blanket and then offers his arm to Hattie. "Why don't we go somewhere else. Where the people are a bit more...civilized?" Then he does look at the weaver and shakes his head. "Lucky for you this blanket is fine enough I'm not changing my mind after your treatment of me. I'll be telling my friends." And the guards? He has nothing to say to them. He just waits for Hattie's arm so he can leave the whole mess.
Yes, everyone else puts a nice spin on it, but Jaeyi just falls back on, "Thanks, same to you." She holds that perfect little smile in place, still a little phased by whatever she's supposed to do that she managed to miss finding out about-- not quite as phased by the idea of /asking/ what that was, but natural charm usually works where cognition fails.
Cirse only smiles in her turn, then more literally turns, proceeding along the edge of the floor and leaving all those things to do (or to get out of) for the future. With Kwei waiting only that minimally long, she'll spot that flopping with a backward glance, but she keeps walking, and a time or two in the course of the evening she'll even be seen dancing... efficiently, neither inspiredly nor inspiringly, but dancing all the same.
"Civilized sounds good," Hattie murmurs, eyeing a number of the guards quite darkly, but that look gets aimed at W'ton as he continues on. If she could get away with it subtly, there'd be stepping on toes or the kicking of shins, but she can't, so she doesn't and just falls silent after that. "I assure you that it's a bit late to be making a run for it, don't you think?" she points out to the burly guard. "We won't be going all that far." Reaching out, she takes W'ton's arm and stares at the floor, lest glares be directed somewhere they shouldn't and provoke more trouble.
"You see if anyone sells you anythin' here again. Thief." The weaver spits after W'ton again, utterly unconvinced of his innocence. She glares after him for a time, checking her takings before slowly but surely packing up her booth, muttering about thieves and no-good bronzeirders as she does. Perhaps unsurprisngly one of the guards stays nearby, keeping an eye on the weaver as much as keeping an eye on the gather.
Kwei sidles over to Jaeyi once he's comfy on the bench. "Sooo my oh so talented baker. Have you recovered enough for that dance, or has information gathering and reporting back to me got you too overwhelmed to manage?" He asks her with a faint smile, probably looking more worried about it than she will be.
Probably looking more worried? No, definitely. Jaeyi's worried just far enough to ask, "What information am I meant to be gathering? Something about Fort Seahold?" Sounds a little far-fetched to her, brows knitting while she watches Cirse slip into the crowd. She finishes enough of her drink to keep it from having been a waste of T'rev's hard-earned marks, sets the mug on the end of the bench next to her, and offers a hand to the harper. "You can clarify while we dance, how's that?"
Once they're far enough away from the trouble W'ton grins at Hattie and nudges her with his hip. "That's the last time I buy something for us," he tells her with a mock-scowl. "Here I thought a nice blanket to keep us warm would be a good thing." Shaking his head slowly he lets out a sigh. "Shells, I can't even remember everything I've bought. I mean the stuff I have in my bag, sure, but there's been food and warm cider...what a waste." Looking around he lowers his voice to ask, "Elaruth ok? What should we do now?"
Kwei sighs and it's with a bit of frown that he nods his head. "Yeah any gossip you hear about Fort Sea hold, you've to pass on to me and I've to report it all to Cirse." Hence the reason for his worry. She offers her hand to him though and he takes it. "Okay, lets dance our cares away?" He replies with a smile as he leads her off to the dance floor, looking for an opportunity to squeeze in, it's a fast one that's' playing at the moment and he drops his hand to the small of her back and, other hand in hers as he whisks her off.
The look Hattie shoots the bronzerider is somewhat pained, just as she nudges W'ton back and tries a smile. "Don't say that, now I feel awful," she pretends to protest. "We could start at one end of the Gather and go through it all? Or start wherever you did?" the goldrider suggests, evidently going into organization mode. She hangs her head for a few seconds, her fingers pressing the bridge of her nose. "She was... angry. Really, properly, angry. That was new. But... calmer now. Dasarth?" Feet slow and stop as she turns round to eye the rest of the booths. "I have to buy something, as much as that's not something that sounds fun right now. But I should. I said I would."
"Well, if you want to buy me something to make up for my pain," W'ton says in a wheedling tone accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's just wander and see what we see. No set path or anything. We'll just take our chances. I did see some nice buttons farther back." It's not clothes, right? Just accessories for clothes. There's points for that, right? He stops when she does and takes the opportunity to kiss the top of her head. "Dasarth was fine, but I was doing my best to stay calm. Last thing we needed was him roaring in to make a point. Asked him to check on her. Hope you're not upset. He wasn't real bothered though. Sure of our importance and superiority and all." Chuckling for that he shakes his head. "Finally that comes in handy, yea?"
"Gosh, lucky you." Jaeyi's derision lands thickly on that remark. "And your home hold, no less." She takes a moment to fuss with the drape of her shawl before she steps into the dance, hand-to-shoulder, a quick warning; "I'm not as good at this as I make it look like." Not that she's going to step on Kwei's toes, but maybe no fancy steps?
While one guard follows Hattie and W'ton at a semi-discreet distance, the other begin a search of the gather grounds. Another two merchants are soon grumbling about fakes, and one Hold resident nearly gets in a fight when he discovers that the last of his gather money is worthless. The guards move on, checking, questioning, but no explaination appears to be forthcoming.
Kwei smirks right back at her comment about the Hold. "Wonderful." He mutters before they're off and away, he does keep it relatively easy, it's a basic waltz hold just faster with all the spins in there that doesn't leave much breath for talking as they whirl and spin their way around until the song comes to and end. He remains holding onto her, it wasn't a full dance after all. "If the next one is a slow one do you want to stay?" He asks her, still with plenty of energy left. "Or shall we retreat so you can sit in my lap and listen to me commenting on all your good points for the rest of the night, or at least until you get bored of it?"
"Finally that comes in handy, yes," Hattie agrees, fighting the laughter that accompanies her words. "Not upset. She really was... pissed." Which isn't really a word for Elaruth at all, so the little queen must have been damn well furious. She nudges W'ton again, this time with her elbow. "I have to buy something for me with a mark I was given. You can have something for your pain out of /my/ marks... if you're good," she teases. "Come on, lead on to the buttons, then. And when we're done shopping, we can dance and then see if they'll actually let us go home!"
Jaeyi, with a slight twist of her lips; "Is Su okay about all that, by the way? I heard B'kaiv was involved, which at least explains the special present they left for Mecaith's ledge. Though not /why/ he'd do it." The memory is a nose-twitch, the nose-twitch is the beginning of a light smile. "If it's a slow one, I'll stay, and then we can go and sit and talk about how lovely I am. Or window-shop!" That last is a sudden memory of what she hasn't yet accomplished today.
"If they don't let us go home we'll be causing another scene because I'm going to," W'ton lowers his head to her ear and whispers something likely very naughty. With an innocent expression he changes their direction a bit to take them by the buttons. "There were some sets. Different shapes and metals. I was particularly impressed by a set of flowers all done in gold." And onward he goes to lead her to lots of buttons along with anything else that catches his eye. He's distracted by shiny things like she's not. At least on the dance floor they're going to be safe from that. Despite the ruckus he's still happy to be shopping and will be sure to show her everything he found when they return home.
Kwei nods his head with a smile as he keeps his arm wrapped around her waist while he waits for the band to announce and it's a fast one. "Looks like we're off to window shop." He tells her at the announcement, steering off the dancefloor before things get started and they can't escape. Once free he shifts to tuck the shawl round her shoulders and starts towards the stalls with her. "It's been such a lovely night so far and now I get to walk along with you on my arm, while you look at pretty things." He's grinning a touch too much.
"In your dreams will we /ever/ cause a scene like that!" Hattie pretends to be thoroughly shocked and appalled, yet the sly smile gives her away, as always. "Flowers?" she might be heard to exclaim, with affected exasperation, as they head off for more shopping. "People just aren't going to believe you're a bronzerider if you keep talking like this, you know..." Then there's shopping and dancing to be done before they make their way home. She might not like the overly shiny and Elaruth might want that mark spent on ribbons, but there's a compromise reached somewhere involving a pendant shaped like a ribbon twisted about on a breeze. Predictably accented with a very faint blue. And thankfully the scene-making is kept private.