The Crom Hold Trade Fair: Temper, temper. Part two.
RL Date: 11/10/07
IC Date: 2/31/14
The issue of something to drink is addressed first, as a serving girl passes their way. Halting her with a gesture of his free hand, X'ndar takes up a glass and hands it over to Haisen, then another for himself which is left on the tray until he's fished a mark out. Trading mark for glass, and amusement for the flutter of lashes coming from the serving girl, the Telgari Weyrlingmaster steers them through the crowd and in the direction of the Telgari contingent. Now he takes the time to make response to the dark haired woman, "Breeches a' warmer goin' between then a dress, darlin'." hoping to still her anxiety over her attire. One or two are taken note of and afforded a grin in response.
A'zan flips his fingers dismissively before returning them to the wineglass. "Well enough. I miss home occasionally when I'm running laps or tossing firestone in the snow, but Kevruth makes up for it all." The way it's rattled off lends it the sound of an often repeated sentiment, and he lifts the glass to his lips again at the end. "Seems to me that it's a lack of communication more than a case of fault. If the Weyrleaders were more approachable perhaps..." he trails off with a shrug. He didn't specify /which/ Weyrleaders, but being from Crom and considering it's not Gay punching Reachian residents... well. T'rev's uh oh has his eyes lifting to Gay and E'tyn and both brows jump, the line of his lip thinning and a muscle bunching in his jaw. "No, not good at all."
Wyaeth> I bespoke Teonath with << Must not've gone well, heh. >> E'tyn, imagined with Gay at his side amid a revelry of traders and riders from the Reaches and Telgar, somehow made small, viewed through a strange mingled double-vision of Wyaeth's and N'thei's. << You want him punched in the back of the head? >>
Pulled back by both bronzerider and the wineglass he's holding, Gay - in the time-honoured tradition of many, many couples - takes it out E'tyn momentarily, snapping, "Oh, now it's okay." Even so, she takes the wine from him and sips at it, staring around at the crowd balefully - about as far from her usual relaxed and laid-back demeanor as she can get. However, once the goldrider notices the reactions, she at least has the grace to look a little less angry at the world in general. Running her free hands through her curls, she gives E'tyn a barely apologetic look before beginning to spot the weyrlings in the crowd. Oops.
Talien makes the softest of choking noises and hastily presses the back of her wine-glass holding hand to her mouth until it passes. Having been mid-drink during said fit, her reply sounds strained. "Svodriyth? You're an a-" Aborting the comment of her own decision, Talien tries on a smile. "I'll take that as a compliment and thank you for the both of us. And Svodriyth says to say if Jaireth ever wants lessons, he's more than willing to help." There's no comment of his clothes and even less of one on hers - just the simple tugging of her cap further down over her face, the move likely done to hide the smile that follows. Granted it rather quickly falters as Talien needlessly squints at B'yan, her expression questioning.
Taking the glass gratefully from the Telgar weyrlingmaster and downing the majority in a few swallows, "Between's brutal," Haisen lets X'ndar know - and didn't she mention earlier that she used to ride Between -all- the time? Nah. "M'fine, been through worse." She manages to say that with the blandest of tones, and with one hand she sets to making her raggedy cloak look more 'presentable' - when in actuality it's making her stick out like a sore thumb. Moving her hand back to his arm since looking more presentable just wasn't happening tonite, "Thanks for takin' me," she states his way low, dark eyes sweeping through the crowd before landing on him with one of her 'decent' smiles.
N'thei stands like he'll even give up his chair for Amerie, slides around the arm of it and stops very close to the girl's ear where his voice drops below the thrum of a crowd. He mutters to Amerie, "... told... we're..." He places his hands on the back of the chair he vacated, drums his long fingers across it save where they cling to his wineskin, head lowered to indicate a seat for the girl. "How about the weather?" he asks abruptly, all smiles to T'rev and A'zan, abruptly /done/ with talk of coal and blame.
Amerie senses "N'thei stands like he'll even give up his chair for Amerie, slides around the arm of it and stops very close to the girl's ear where his voice drops below the thrum of a crowd. "Teonath told us, we're getting Telgar's leftovers." He places his hands on the back of the chair he vacated, drums his long fingers across it save where they cling to his wineskin, head lowered to indicate a seat for the girl. "How about the weather?" he asks abruptly, all smiles to T'rev and A'zan, abruptly /done/ with talk of coal and blame."
Oops, indeed, Telgar's Weyrleader uncomfortably aware of the attention paid them and their previously stormy path through the fair grounds. E'tyn withstands the snapping well enough, and though his expression hardens visibly, he lets the drink be taken from him. "Better?" Continuing his taciturn vein, his inquiry is followed by a lift of his bushy brows though his gaze flicks side to side, taking in faces about him. A'zan, T'rev, Reaches' riders and then back to Gay.
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Teonath considers the image, a touch distracted and through her consciousness, Leiventh's telltale anger, kept under the confines of a senior queen's command, leaks. << No. Satiet says no. >> Not by her desire, but her riders.
T'rev clears his throat and makes a face that he quickly schools back into the nice little cheery look he was sporting earlier and tosses off a jaunty salute towards the Weyrleaders and raises his voice a little. "Sir, ma'am, g'eve." His eyes slip towards N'thei and his shoulders lift into a loose roll. "Shardin' cold is what. Here, there, everywhere." He gestures around loosely with one hand. "Well. Y'know, 'cept down south far enough where it don't get cold atall." Weather. The stand by topic of polite conversation. Yeah baby.
Taking the offered seat slowly, Amerie eyes the Telgari Weyrleaders with a fine brow arched. "Not good is an understatement," she notes to T'rev lowly - and tilts her head towards N'thei's with some interest. With a purse of her lips, she drops into the seat, giving A'zan a questioning glance. This is the side you come down on? Though she'll talk about something, anything else. "That sounds like a rote answer," she points out lightly.
Wyaeth> Teonath senses that Wyaeth, an adrenaline-junky paired with a foul-tempered rider, << No? N'thei's pretty sure he could lay him out in one blow, prolly a couple these weyrlings they got rattling around too, if it comes to that. >> He doesn't question Teonath's rule directly, but juuuust to make sure. << Nothin' wounds pride like seeing the Weyrleader cold-clocked. But okay. >>
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Teonath takes the time to reflect on Wyaeth's words, the quickened thoughts swirling in a cloud of desert dust. It culminates into a calmed touch that remarks in all nonchalance, << She did not say anything of weyrlings. >> Just of the Weyrleader, not that Teonath's asked again.
He's a gentleman at heart, and so its that, that has the Weyrlingmaster extricate his arm from Haisen's grasp, hand her his glass and shrug out of his flight jacket. A hand going indication of handing over her ragged coat, "Jacket's warmer." he offers by way of explanation, with a light curl of lips. Her words on between, simply draw a rough chuckle and the last is met with a smile, "Figured ya be goin' a mite stir crazy too." E'tyn and Gay catch the corner of his eye and X'ndar turns fractionally in that direction, their seemingly ruffled state afforded longer study. In a low tone to the woman with him, "Looks ta be this shindig's got more'n one trick runnin'."
Wyaeth> Teonath senses that Wyaeth's tone swats at flies; << Too little by themselves. Shells, too little put together. >>
"No." Gay's answer is nearly petulant; she's gone into a thoughtful, moody reverie - in the way that people do when they consider all the ways to kick the crap out of someone they really despise. Eventually, the presence of the weyrlings, and now X'ndar and Haisen sink in, the redheaded weyrwoman downs her glass of wine, tosses it back on a passing server's tray, and with a bounce of her curls; "Let's get outta here. Not doin' any good here."
With Talien choking on her own words, B'yan takes it upon himself to try and pat her back - as if that would help. "You really shouldn't hold back, you know," he drawls in a helpful manner, keeping the easy smile on his face. "As for Jaireth, well you know. He'd rather get lost Between before he takes up anything Svodriyth's offering." From afar, it looks almost as though the two of them were talking amiably over how well the weather has been holding up. Holding the glass up in examination, and passing a look over at the questioning look Talien sends his way, "Sometime, I'm taking you to the weavehall," he sends wryly. "Put that up there with me owing you that trip to the bar. When you're not babysitting the weyrlingmaster, that is."
A'zan inclines his head toward T'rev in agreement and echoes, "Damn cold indeed. Though a bit warmer at Telgar than 'Reaches I'm certain." There's that ghost of a smile again, whispering around his lips but then gone again. To Amerie he simply nods, confimring, "It is. Did you expect me to bare my soul?" Amused, the smile lights for a beat before sneaking away again, leaving him with neutrality mixed with concern as he looks over at the Weyrleader pair. He salutes them though they're a bit away, then glances at his companions and says, "Excuse me." Rising he heads toward E'tyn and Gay exchanging a mark-bit for a pair of small glasses of iced fruit brandy, a Crom speciality on his way. If he can catch them before they make good on Gay's suggestion he joins them with a grim nod and offers a glance to each.
glance=glass
Shanlee drifts back out of wherever she'd gone off too, a strange set to the fine features. Successfully grabbing up a wineskin from a vendor, a sidelong glance going to one of the 'Reachian bronzerider's in particular, the Weyrsecond melts back into the crowd again.
N'thei possesses enough good sense not to look at the Telgar leaders, not with the expression he wears while pouring out his third glass tonight; "I'd like to snap that boy's neck." His eyes raise from the pouring to chase A'zan off, and he tells this information to Amerie and T'rev in a flatly informative tone. "Never been to the southern continent myself, though I've made it as far as Boll a time or three. Heard they get a lot of rain along the coast there though." Like he can pick up the thread of conversation again with a smile and a guzzle.
A'zan does catch up with the pair before they depart, E'tyn's slowness beleaguering Gay's need for a hasty departure. What passes for stony for the Telgar Weyrleader would be like a cute puppy deciding to be upset, and it's much too hard for him to continue in this vein in light of his weyrmate's state of mind. "Promise," he notes under his breath, "Next time we find a dark closet with him in it, you can throw the first punch and my manly pride," a pause lingers to emphasis his attempts at restoring some humor, "Won't suffer for it as long as I get in the second. A'zan," the tenor lifts in acknowledgement, failing at amiable, but hauling itself onto that tiny ledge of neutral.
Drawing away from where the harpers have been performing, Giremi a little flush-faced makes his way along the aisles of stalls in search of a drink. Man on a mission, he doesn't immediately notice those around him and it's quick enough that he finds a drink-seller, opting for something chilled and light, rather than some of the heavier things available. Head above most of the crowd with bright hair up top, he's hard to miss and he spots a telltale head of apricot curls and starts to steer a course for the Telgar Weyrleaders.
Haisen eyes the jacket being offered with her usual suspicion, then with a sigh she shrug out of the coat and hands it gingerly over to him. Treating the raggedy thing like a fine bottle of wine, "Don' rip it," she warns X'ndar with a mock stare as she shrugs on his jacket quickly. "It's expensive." Just don't ask her how much. Once dressed, she affords a look over to the Telgar Weyrleaders that catch his eyes with interest to his remark. "What, like trouble or somethin'?" she returns to him, watching them, then those near intently.
It takes Talien a moment to shrug off what had her looking to B'yan, and by the way she reacts afterwards it's not likely to have been fully shaken off. "Poor sport. You should work on that. The both of you." Talien helpfully suggests, moments before draining the last of her wine from her glass. Upending it and dangling it from between her fingers, "'course if I accept that offer, me'n Svodriyth are gonna look like fools. Besides, he said I looked good." Beat. "Plus you're all well and good with /saying/ you'll do something, not so much with the doing."
It's not long after the Telgar Weyrleaders depart the Hold proper that Satiet appears without R'hin, high color on her cheeks and a snap in her pale eyes. Holding her ice blue skirts closely about her with one hand, the other rifles through her loose raven curls as she stands just outside the Hold doors, keen gaze moving rapidly midst the crowds to try and pinpoint a few necessary faces.
T'rev swallows his wine wrong at N'thei's remark and he starts coughing. "It's kind of a scrawny neck, sir. Probably wouldn't take much doin'. But worth it?" His hand waggles again, an echo of his earlier move. "Ain't been down Southern way m'self yet, still learnin' everything up here. But like I said, I'm from Nerat and I'm told the weather's similar enough. Warm. Humid. Air y'can feel when you wake up in the morning."
With a quirk of her lips for the answer, Amerie tells A'zan, "I can try." That fades quickly enough as the weyrling excuses himself to head over to the Telgari Weyrleaders. With a disapproving cast to her features, her gaze follows him before turning back to N'thei, bemused. "Which one?" Disparagingly, "I don't like the heat."
"They ain't gonna bite." X'ndar returns with a pointed look to the feline pelts lining his jacket, an odd inflection to his baritone. Haisen's coat is taken from her with exaggerated care and laid over one arm, skepticism showing in his eyes at the item's worth, "Ya mean the trinkets ya got inside are." If he feels the cold, he's not about to show it, wide shoulders roll under his shirt "Not sure. Been kept busy with weyrlin's an' all." Another glance toward his Weyrleader's before offering the dark haired woman his arm and looking to be starting in the direction of said weyrlings and their bronzeriding counterpart of the Reaches.
Gay looks up at A'zan with some little gratitude, taking the glass and downing it with a practiced hand. "Thanks," she tells him with a too-bright smile, cheeks flushed. At E'tyn's aside, she twitches - literally stiffens her willowy frame, telling the Weyrleader shakily, "Don't need a closet. Need a /knife/." At least she says that quietly enough for few to hear - though the commotion of Satiet's exit makes her pause, giving the younger of the men an apologetic glance. "Better that it not come to blows," she says tightly, turning on her heel and stalking off to Liabeth and Niereth - and apparently expecting E'tyn to follow.
N'thei answers gruffly to Amerie, "Pick one." How his face finds a smile when his voice sounds murderous is a practiced trick, and he picks one up flawlessly for the remnants of his conversation. "I never cared much for humidity myself. Or bugs. They've got some wicked critters that crawl around the jungles, I hear-tell." His fingers make like they'd insect their way up the girl's arm. Even in a crowd this thick, even halfway across Crom, his eyes ken to Satiet's entrance, tranquil gray squinted.
A'zan shakes his head at the bright brittle smile and even E'tyn's attempt at a friendly note. "The brandy is good and I'm not going to drink it," he offers to the Weyrleader in a low note. "If you don't want it, take the second for her, mmm?" With a glance over his shoulder at the ruckus at the entrance and the Weyrwoman causing it his eyes narrow. "Should I gather the Weyrlings and tell them to head back then?"
Edlyn heads back towards the table she had vacated not too long ago. This time, the green weyrling bares another tray of wine and cheese. She sets it down on the table and then flops - yes, /flops/ - into her chair. "My father caught me after all. Dunno /how/ I got roped into it, but here I am... back for good this time." She looks around the table and then smiles at T'rev. "At least I brought more goodies for us, huh?"
"Told you I've forgotten," B'yan is quick to quip as he swallows down some of the wine. "Jaireth will, eventually. Whatever. More wine?" Somehow, the wingsecond managed to procure himself a bottle, and trying to raise up her empty glass for a refill. "You'll look like fools if I -don't- offer my expertise," he drawls to the offer, sending the bluerider a thin look. "And what does a dragon know anyway? He's the one trying to foist you off on abandoned places and calling it 'surviving'." He's probably not even telling it right, not that he's going to correct it at this point. At her last, he turns to face her and places a hand on her shoulder firmly. "I'll stop by and we'll go," he states more evenly now. "I have something I need to take care of first, but if you don't mind that...." he trails, watching her face for any sign of doubt in his promises.
"Tons of bugs," T'rev supplies amiably, not giving any sort of reply to N'thei's presumably intended violence towards himself as well. "And here's the vintner's daughter back. Hey Ed." He's shooting another look off towards the Weyrleaders as Gay stalks off. "What'd you bring? Goodies sound ... really good right about now." His gaze skips back over to follow N'thei's to Satiet and he squints for a moment. "Is that your Weyrwoman, sir?"
"Yer coat's not bad," Haisen offers the weyrlingmaster as she fastens it closed against the weather. At the skepticism she catches in X'ndar's eyes, "It /is/ expensive," she repeats alittle more soberly now with a look. "Well, it doesn't look it now, but it is. Hasn't failed me yet." Nevermind the fact that it looks like it's already on its last leg. She takes his arm then and lets him steer her towards the weyrlings, nodding to his answer and casting another curious look towards the Weyrleaders. "Maybe Crom got somethin' to do with it?" she asks aloud, brow lifting as she walks.
"Enjoy the fair," opines E'tyn, watching with concern as Gay moves away. "I'll take it for her." The suggestion from the bronze weyrling quickens the light in the Weyrleader's eyes, how well he knows her. "Better that it not come to blows," he repeats Gay's statement, a look for A'zan which then drifts quickly to the other weyrlings and Telgar riders milling about. Be good, says those eyes, before he's off to follow after Gay.
"Svodriyth...." Talien, trailing off from her otherwise uncertain statement, shakes her head and forces a lighthearted smile. "Nah, it's alright. I know you're busy. 'sides, Svodriyth's still in one of those moods... he'll ruin it, I'm sure." The trip, presumably. Having one hand on her cane, the other on her refilled glass, Talien can't quite convey her sincerity in any other way other than the smile and tip of her head, "Honest, I don't mind."
"I know where to hide the bodies," Amerie tells N'thei all helpfully, slim fingers pulling a flask from the inside of her coat. Unusually charitable, she offers it to the large bronzerider first, rolling her eyes for his immediate attention. However, she suppresses any urges she has to comment, merely answering T'rev with a light, almost mocking, "Yes." Her dark gaze slips to Edlyn momentarily and she offers a nod.
Charis walks through into the fair area with ease, being from Crom originally. She looks about, searching the faces, shoulders a bit tense, hands gripped at her side. After a few moments the rider makes her way over to the tables and fills a glass with wine, drinking it down in one motion before filling it up again.
Giremi does not manage to make it through the crowd to the Weyrleaders in time to catch them and instead he stands there looking just a trifle perplexed and troubled, eyes lifting up to the Hold proper, head shaking back and forth slightly. His lips purse and he steps out of the flow of traffic leaning against a stall post, drink set aside to scribble something on a bit of hide. A moment later, a brown firelizard winks out of Between and after cruising the general area, hones in on the tall harper and makes for his shoulder, chittering. A tidbit from Remi's pocket is fed to the lizard then he ties the note to the brown's leg and sends him off again.
N'thei hasn't noticed Edlyn yet, totally but briefly distracted. The good-natured bronzerider that started the evening has grown steadily less entertaining till he's reached the point where he fraction-of-a-smile answers Amerie's clever comment. "Yes. --You know, before it was out of necessity." He plops his half-drained wineskin on the arm of the chair beside the girl and takes the flask instead, someone's asking for a hangover. "I think now it's just going to be out of spite." He looks down with a wicked smile, just then to realize there's someone new here. He shows his teeth around the mouth of the flask, maybe it's a smile?
"Make sure to let my mother know where to find mine," notes T'rev with the barest hint of sarcasm in his voice, the cheer he's been using until now finally disrupted and he tops his wine up again, perhaps unwisely. "Edlyn, meet N'thei, bronze Wyaeth's of the High Reaches, Amerie, likewise. Y'all, this Edlyn, green Arenith's, my clutchmate and provider of many of the fine beverages at this here table this evenin'."
The air is thick with tension and Edlyn is not too far behind to picking up on it. Her shoulders stiffen as she sits more firmly in her chair, polite nod returned to Amerie. "Yes, I brought more wine for us to enjoy. It's white, with some crisp grapes and cheese." The green weyrling flicks her hands at the tray then leans forward to snag herself another glass and a piece of cheese. Her attention shifts and focuses on T'rev as introductions are made. Eyes flicker at the other bronzerider and she presses her lips together in a thin line before she sips from her glass. "Nice to meet you all, of course. Hope you enjoy the wine."
Having almost reached the table where A'zan, T'rev and Edlyn are ensconced, X'ndar hefts an amused glance down to Haisen, "Ya can say it. Its damn fine an' ya wish it was yours." Pulling her hand in closer to his side a low chuckles spills, "So can I wear it then?" the arm where her tatty old coat is slung lifts in indication, "Ya need a new one." The Telgari Weyrleaders leaving right as they arrive has that thoughtful look following them for a breathspan and then back to those in sight "Evenin' weyrlin's, enjoyin' the freedom?" to the unfamiliar that are seated there "Telgar's duties ta High Reaches."
Now drinkless, A'zan simply nods after the departing Weyrleaders and then his eyes snap up to the fireheights where his lifemate lounges. Concern and anger war across his features, though as usual the shifts are slight - brows and lips twitching for a beat, but as the Weyrleading pair disappears he brings that blankness carefully back to his face. Slipping his hands into his pockets and aiming for nonchalance he turns back to the crowd, but his stone grey eyes can't help but flicker to Satiet at least for a moment. Icy eyes matched by the pale blue of her gown, raven hair contrasting, not to mention the reputation and the way the air nearly crackles around her, a glance at least is warranted. Scrutiny narrows his pale gaze for that beat and if it should meet hers, he offers a neat salute that is brief as propriety will allow.
Satiet does not seek long, nor does she stay still for much longer as cool, distant eyes train onto B'yan with Talien close by, but fail in their attempts to place another. Long gather skirts grant the illusion of an effortlessly graceful glide as the daintily clad woman makes her way further into the crowd. Sharpish chin lifted, a supercilious glance passed onto a cluster of Cromese standing by the baker's tent, High Reaches' Weyrwoman makes a striking path through groups of people until she reaches N'thei, and by virtue of drawing up on the distinctively wall-like man, Amerie and T'rev. With A'zan not too far, the noticeable salute garners a glance to his shoulder, thin brows climbing in askance, and while her gaze remains on A'zan for a long moment, the lean of her body and words are for N'thei's ears, "Have you seen Shanlee?"
Giremi spots another familiar figure in the crowd as he completes sending his message and it doesn't take the Harper long to figure out the body language between the Weyrlingmaster and the traveler. His eyes settle on the two for a moment, then pushing away from that pole, the harper heads back the way he came, face as carefully blank as nearby A'zan's.
Amerie gives N'thei a somewhat disapproving look, though it's all surface gloss - something about her eyes is amused, bright. Languidly, she turns her palm up to take the flask back when he's done, noting idly, "That doesn't help anything. And of course." She turns to T'rev to offer what could only be termed as a killer smile. "I can oblige. Well met, Edlyn. I haven't had the wine, but..." Her words trail off as Satiet approaches, quiet now.
Shanlee's just stepping out of the shadows, hood of cape being lowered as she does so, and wineskin in firm grip. Over one arm there's a drape of green fabric that shimmers and shifts under the light of glows. Likely, she'd been off somewhere striking deals with traders if the satisfied pull to her mouth is anything to go by. Or perhaps it were something else entirely as her gaze finds and settles on Satiet over the crowd between them.
Charis turns with the glass of wine in her hands, sipping quietly, scanning the area for familiar faces. She watches Satiet make her way across and over to where N'thei, Amerie and T'rev are gathered. A brow is arched slightly taking in the demeanor of her Weyrwoman, studying the situation with an amused expression.
Amerie's killer smile is returned in kind. "Thanks. 'Preciate it. She'd be heartbroke to find me with m'neck snapped." At Satiet's approach, T'rev's gaze centers on the Weyrwoman, with N'thei's confirmation, he eyes the woman curiously and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Shells. Tiriana was right," he murmurs and then shuts the hell up as the woman gets right up to the table. He rises politely and snaps off a salute to echo A'zan's before dropping back into his seat and reclaiming his flagon of wine. Wine. Wine /good/.
Haisen and X'ndar's approach is met with a grateful smile from Edlyn. "Evening, sir, Haisen. Would either of you like to try some of my father's wine? It's some of the best here -- er, well, I mean, you should like it." A faint blush rises to her cheeks as she lifts the tray and holds it out to the pair. It remains there even as Satiet comes upon the table. The Weyrwoman's knot is noticed first and then the green weyrling extends the offer, "If you would like a glass, ma'am, please help yourself." T'rev is given a sidelong look, though Ed does not comment.
N'thei greets X'ndar with a polite-enough, "Sir, Reaches duties." He tipples from the flask one last time then places it smartly on Amerie's palm, breathes out in her direction just to thank her for the drink. "I haven't," he answers to Satiet promptly, only turns enough that he can land his eyes on her in proximity. "But I'd certainly like to find her. There's a little bast-- young fellow I'd like to introduce her to in a dark cavern just to see him get shredded. I'll have a look around." Height alone like to make it easier for him to find the diminutive Shanlee in this mess of people.
Wyaeth> I bespoke Kaylith with << N'thei says for Shanlee to c'mere. Satiet wants her. >>
When ice meets stone, A'zan's brows mirror Satiet's slipping ever so slightly upward. It's a Weyrling's duty to salute a Weyrwoman is it not? He watches her lean in to the looming man that sits with his fellows, holding that gaze levelly for as long as she offers it. It is only when she turns her attention to other things that he ambles over, affecting nonchalance as he settles behind Edlyn, resting long-fingered hands on the back of his chair. He just misses N'thei's words but he comes right on the heels of them. "I promised the Weyrwoman I'd buy her a drink, and seeing as how she was hurrying off thought I'd catch her," he offers wryly as an excuse for his absence. He salutes X'ndar, nodding to the Reachians he has already met and offering, "Duties to High Reaches, Teonath, and the rest of her queens," softly towards Satiet.
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Kaylith 's splashes reproof into her return for that summons << Mine is aware, but will wait until Teonath's is less occupied. >>
Satiet slants Edlyn a quick look, the ma'am drawing her attention far more than the offer of wine. She states in droll simplicity, "I don't drink," then dismisses the Telgar weyrling by virtue of her attention drawn back to N'thei. Perhaps it was his height she was banking on, her reason for seeking this particular rider out when looking for another, rather than highly useful dragon communication, or for the reaction her presence might garner, all slight of frame and frigidly pretty. "If you find her or others," a glance casts about, lashes flickering as they find Charis, "Spread the word. By virtue of Telgar's never ending charity, we've tithes to move." A beat passes, almost as if she might ignore A'zan's greetings, before she advises curtly, without a glance, "Don't offer duties unmeant, weyrling."
"Reaches duties," Amerie echoes generally and quietly. With the barest grimace for booze-breath over there, the girl takes the flask back in hand. After a sip of her own, she leans back in her seat, waiting for orders, by the glances she gives the slight goldrider now and again. Lowly, to A'zan - noting his interest in Satiet with a sharp glance - she notes, "Gentlemanly of you."
Wyaeth> Kaylith senses that Wyaeth's immune to reproof, just as much as he is social niceties; ain't you figured that out yet?
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Kaylith is unconcerned by the brashness of the bronze, her flow of mind strong and unyielding << Mine awaits yours and the others at the place of temporary storage. >> The image provided earlier by Teonath given up once again.
T'rev takes what's probably meant as a steadying drink, then pushes the flagon aside, looking up at A'zan with a nod and echoes A'zan's polite greeting to the Weyrwoman just before she issues her remark about them being unmeant. His brows hike upwards just a little and opens his mouth to say something, then perhaps prudently, shuts his mouth firmly again, then his gaze lingers on the slight Reachian. He shoots Edlyn a quick look and reaches over to steal a cluster of grapes from the girl's tray with a warm smile for the weyrling greenrider, then settles back in his chair, taking it all in.
N'thei's had three glasses of wine and two shots of whatever's in Amerie's flask; diplomacy is going to have to find another host. "If you ask me, we ought to tell Telgar to stick its charity where the sun don't shine. We can look after our own." In the middle of that proclamation, he takes a moment to give A'zan a look, not to be confused with warning, this look is downright threat. "Shanlee's with the so-called tithe. Think I'll join her. Amerie, you're taken care of back to the Reaches?"
Edlyn opts not to respond to the refusal of her offer of wine. Instead, her attention is diverted to A'zan as he seats himself nearby. A smile, if strained, is offered his way. "Hey, A'zan. Didn't see you most of the day. Hope you've been enjoying our outing?" She sets the tray back down on the table and reaches to grab her own glass of wine. This is sipped delicately as she simply watches those gathered around her. N'thei's remarks lift the girl's brows upwards, though she does not comment.
A'zan absorbs the curt words with a quirk of his mouth, a faint smirk that is almost admiring. He bends at the waist in a slight bow, spreading his hands to his sides as if allowing her the truth in his words. "Duties simply to you and yours then, Weyrwoman. Regardless of circumstances that at least I mean unfettered." He turns his attention to Amerie with that grin lingering, deepening if anything. "I'm nothing if not polite, though gentlemanly might be stretching it." Really, polite isn't exactly par for A'zan's course either, but the amusement in his eyes likely speaks to that. "Besides, as your lovely Weyrwoman just said, us Telgari folk are charitable. Neverendingly so even." This with another little wave of fingers toward Satiet. It happens to bring his eyes up to N'thei in time to be caught up in that pointedly threatening look. He meets it, face falling back to stonily neutral, one brow quirking upward. Oh, really?
... the truth in her words...
Charis continues to look around, eyes narrowing slightly, a smile creeping to her lips with a look of recognition when her gaze settles on Edlyn. The bluerider makes her way through the crowd, nodding and excusing herself as she pushes through to come up beside the young woman. She leans a little closer to her, speaking quietly, "I do believe dat your father wanted ya ta know dat there seem ta be some trays of wine missin" She grins at Edlyn, taking a small step away, waiting to see if she recognizes her.
The approach of the High Reaches Weyrwoman grabs his attention as much as it does that of the others near him. X'ndar slants a long and somewhat appreciative look over the raven haired goldrider, "Evenin' Ma'am." a respectful dip of head given. N'thei's return greeting met with an acknowledging shift of eyes, but it's A'zan that garners his full attention for now, a brow lifting for the bronze weyrling's demeanor. His weyrlings are his concern and therefore the brownrider stays right out of whatever is going on between the Reachians. Edlyn gains a grin, "Never so no ta free wine Edlyn." hand holding out his glass toward the weyrling greenrider, quite sure that Haisen is free to do the same, he cants a look her way, then adds in support of A'zan, "Telgar is always willin' ta offer hospitality." his looks hardening now onto N'thei.
Amerie gives a nod to N'thei, with a touch of a smile for his words; "I can find my way home." Sipping from the flask again, the tall girl flicks her dark gaze from the Reachian bronzerider to A'zan. As lightly, though mockingly, she sing-songs to the now-Telgari, "Polite is an improvement." Lower voiced, much more sincere - at least, as much as the dark girl is like to get, "Don't do it. It's not worth you going home broken." By her expression, she's completely serious. Hiding bodies indeed.
In the light of failing pride, it's funny just how straighter Satiet's spine sits and how far back her shoulders pull. The finishing grace to the image that is Reaches' senior queenrider is the slight draw up of her chin as pale eyes follow the lines of N'thei's height. Charity. Such a defeat; so much so that her pale eyes fail to drop to seek out any faces or gazes of the gathered Telgari and stay fixed, neck crink and all, up at the tall bronzerider's face. Coldly, "You. Shall do no such thing. Good night." Tellingly, should one care to notice, Leiventh is no longer a figure in the landscape of dragons in the distance; his departure as unnoted as his rider's exit from the Hold. It's only when she's about to leave that the sweeping lines of departure her slight frame follows deigns to drop to find the cluster of Telgar weyrlings, in particular A'zan. Then, she's off, disappearing into a crowd that, more often than not, parts for her.
Edlyn latches onto the distraction that is offered by the bluerider's approach and the information that is shared. "Is that so? Well, I worked his stall most of the day... so you can just tell him...," and now she catches herself in speaking further. Her brows flick downwards as she appraises Charis. Features that fell into contemplation are smoothed over as a smile - warm, even - is offered. "Charis! I didn't recognize you at first. Shells, it's been turns. Did you go and find my father? Hope he did right by you, today. Best wine out this year." The words spill from the green weyrling in a rush, tension smoothed over suddenly by the appearance of an old friend.
The threatening look and words from N'thei, bring out a line of tension in T'rev's jaw, but A'zan's cool words draw out a look of respect and admiration from the younger of the bronze weyrlings from Telgar. "Don't think that's happenin'," he notes conversationally to Amerie, with a ghost of his formerly cheery smile and he breaks a grape off the cluster he got from Edlyn and pops it into his mouth. Brown eyes track the Reaches' Weyrwoman away as she departs and he sits there for a moment, thoughtful, then seems to come back to earth and eyes the exchange between Charis and Edlyn. "Who's this Ed?"
There's an impatient air now about Shanlee, one can almost see her boot tapping it out. Well sense it more then see it. Satiet's abrupt departure from where she'd been draws the Weyrsecond onto a path designed to intercept the Weyrwoman.
N'thei repeats importantly, "If you ask me. Which no one did." Satisfied that he got to shoot his mouth off anyway, he raises a brow right back at A'zan, his head nodding along with Amerie's assessment. "Clear skies, gents, ladies." Wineskin collected, his priorities are still in tact while he strides off through the ever-dwindling crowd toward the far line of tents. For entirely different reasons than those given to Satiet, people just tend to stay out of his way, gee-go-figure. Overhead, Wyaeth glides off the fireheights and beats him to the destination, lands with his usual heavy thud.
Charis tries very hard to not let the grin broaden on her lips before clearing her throat, "I don't believe dat I got a salute Weyrling? I've earned dat respect don't ya think?" she says, tone teasing fully. She moves closer and offers the weyrling a hug, "Its 'as been several turns since a saw ya last." When she pulls back she looks the weyrling over, "And ya weren't grown up neither." The young woman smiles at those with the seeming friend she's greeted, "And your father did treat me right. Excellent wine and I didn't run into my da yet, which is good."
A'zan's eyes flicker up to where Kevruth sits, then back down to the form of Satiet departing. The show of pride overcompensating for what lies beneath draws his brows together, and his farewell nod to her is for once without any underlying jab. He watches the crowd part and flow back together for the span of two breaths, but then Amerie's words draw his eyes back downward. "Don't do /what/ Assistant Headwoman? I've been unerringly appropriate, saluting and everything." His tone is wry, some amusement lingering even in the face of the blatant threat from the man who could so easily knock him into next Pass. Abruptly, out of place, there's a blink and his eyes go distant, followed by a frown. "Well. It seems Kevruth is hungry and as I would hate to put undue stress on Crom's hospitality, I think we will be off as well. You all enjoy your evening." He takes advantage of the path hewn by the looming bronzerider, but treks off to one side to await Kevruth at the edge of the crowd.
X'ndar's left tracking after the goldrider too, another glance down to his now silent companion and the Weyrlingmaster decides on a course of action. With a nod to those at the table, his words are to the weyrlings in particular, "Iffen ya have need o' me, just give Val a call." Without further comment, the brownrider steps off to one side and steers himself and Haisen through the crowd, heading toward a quieter area, hopefully less wrought with tension.
Satiet, in no mood to be intercepted, is also not in any mood to actually notice an impending interception until it's too late. Just beyond the main crowd, but still close enough to garner curious looks from traders and milling public alike, she remarks to Shanlee, "I've been looking for you." The coldness wrought by proximity to Telgar fades, releasing the pent tension of her slim shoulders and smoothing the overly proud lines etched into her features. A hand fidgets, playing in the folds of her dress, a testament to the crumbling facade within. "You've heard?"
"Mm." That's Amerie's only response for N'thei, A'zan - all bronzeriders, apparently. As people begin to make their apologies and head out, the show over, the tall girl caps her flask, and takes this excellent opportunity to disappear off into the Hold proper.
IC Date: 2/31/14
The issue of something to drink is addressed first, as a serving girl passes their way. Halting her with a gesture of his free hand, X'ndar takes up a glass and hands it over to Haisen, then another for himself which is left on the tray until he's fished a mark out. Trading mark for glass, and amusement for the flutter of lashes coming from the serving girl, the Telgari Weyrlingmaster steers them through the crowd and in the direction of the Telgari contingent. Now he takes the time to make response to the dark haired woman, "Breeches a' warmer goin' between then a dress, darlin'." hoping to still her anxiety over her attire. One or two are taken note of and afforded a grin in response.
A'zan flips his fingers dismissively before returning them to the wineglass. "Well enough. I miss home occasionally when I'm running laps or tossing firestone in the snow, but Kevruth makes up for it all." The way it's rattled off lends it the sound of an often repeated sentiment, and he lifts the glass to his lips again at the end. "Seems to me that it's a lack of communication more than a case of fault. If the Weyrleaders were more approachable perhaps..." he trails off with a shrug. He didn't specify /which/ Weyrleaders, but being from Crom and considering it's not Gay punching Reachian residents... well. T'rev's uh oh has his eyes lifting to Gay and E'tyn and both brows jump, the line of his lip thinning and a muscle bunching in his jaw. "No, not good at all."
Wyaeth> I bespoke Teonath with << Must not've gone well, heh. >> E'tyn, imagined with Gay at his side amid a revelry of traders and riders from the Reaches and Telgar, somehow made small, viewed through a strange mingled double-vision of Wyaeth's and N'thei's. << You want him punched in the back of the head? >>
Pulled back by both bronzerider and the wineglass he's holding, Gay - in the time-honoured tradition of many, many couples - takes it out E'tyn momentarily, snapping, "Oh, now it's okay." Even so, she takes the wine from him and sips at it, staring around at the crowd balefully - about as far from her usual relaxed and laid-back demeanor as she can get. However, once the goldrider notices the reactions, she at least has the grace to look a little less angry at the world in general. Running her free hands through her curls, she gives E'tyn a barely apologetic look before beginning to spot the weyrlings in the crowd. Oops.
Talien makes the softest of choking noises and hastily presses the back of her wine-glass holding hand to her mouth until it passes. Having been mid-drink during said fit, her reply sounds strained. "Svodriyth? You're an a-" Aborting the comment of her own decision, Talien tries on a smile. "I'll take that as a compliment and thank you for the both of us. And Svodriyth says to say if Jaireth ever wants lessons, he's more than willing to help." There's no comment of his clothes and even less of one on hers - just the simple tugging of her cap further down over her face, the move likely done to hide the smile that follows. Granted it rather quickly falters as Talien needlessly squints at B'yan, her expression questioning.
Taking the glass gratefully from the Telgar weyrlingmaster and downing the majority in a few swallows, "Between's brutal," Haisen lets X'ndar know - and didn't she mention earlier that she used to ride Between -all- the time? Nah. "M'fine, been through worse." She manages to say that with the blandest of tones, and with one hand she sets to making her raggedy cloak look more 'presentable' - when in actuality it's making her stick out like a sore thumb. Moving her hand back to his arm since looking more presentable just wasn't happening tonite, "Thanks for takin' me," she states his way low, dark eyes sweeping through the crowd before landing on him with one of her 'decent' smiles.
N'thei stands like he'll even give up his chair for Amerie, slides around the arm of it and stops very close to the girl's ear where his voice drops below the thrum of a crowd. He mutters to Amerie, "... told... we're..." He places his hands on the back of the chair he vacated, drums his long fingers across it save where they cling to his wineskin, head lowered to indicate a seat for the girl. "How about the weather?" he asks abruptly, all smiles to T'rev and A'zan, abruptly /done/ with talk of coal and blame.
Amerie senses "N'thei stands like he'll even give up his chair for Amerie, slides around the arm of it and stops very close to the girl's ear where his voice drops below the thrum of a crowd. "Teonath told us, we're getting Telgar's leftovers." He places his hands on the back of the chair he vacated, drums his long fingers across it save where they cling to his wineskin, head lowered to indicate a seat for the girl. "How about the weather?" he asks abruptly, all smiles to T'rev and A'zan, abruptly /done/ with talk of coal and blame."
Oops, indeed, Telgar's Weyrleader uncomfortably aware of the attention paid them and their previously stormy path through the fair grounds. E'tyn withstands the snapping well enough, and though his expression hardens visibly, he lets the drink be taken from him. "Better?" Continuing his taciturn vein, his inquiry is followed by a lift of his bushy brows though his gaze flicks side to side, taking in faces about him. A'zan, T'rev, Reaches' riders and then back to Gay.
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Teonath considers the image, a touch distracted and through her consciousness, Leiventh's telltale anger, kept under the confines of a senior queen's command, leaks. << No. Satiet says no. >> Not by her desire, but her riders.
T'rev clears his throat and makes a face that he quickly schools back into the nice little cheery look he was sporting earlier and tosses off a jaunty salute towards the Weyrleaders and raises his voice a little. "Sir, ma'am, g'eve." His eyes slip towards N'thei and his shoulders lift into a loose roll. "Shardin' cold is what. Here, there, everywhere." He gestures around loosely with one hand. "Well. Y'know, 'cept down south far enough where it don't get cold atall." Weather. The stand by topic of polite conversation. Yeah baby.
Taking the offered seat slowly, Amerie eyes the Telgari Weyrleaders with a fine brow arched. "Not good is an understatement," she notes to T'rev lowly - and tilts her head towards N'thei's with some interest. With a purse of her lips, she drops into the seat, giving A'zan a questioning glance. This is the side you come down on? Though she'll talk about something, anything else. "That sounds like a rote answer," she points out lightly.
Wyaeth> Teonath senses that Wyaeth, an adrenaline-junky paired with a foul-tempered rider, << No? N'thei's pretty sure he could lay him out in one blow, prolly a couple these weyrlings they got rattling around too, if it comes to that. >> He doesn't question Teonath's rule directly, but juuuust to make sure. << Nothin' wounds pride like seeing the Weyrleader cold-clocked. But okay. >>
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Teonath takes the time to reflect on Wyaeth's words, the quickened thoughts swirling in a cloud of desert dust. It culminates into a calmed touch that remarks in all nonchalance, << She did not say anything of weyrlings. >> Just of the Weyrleader, not that Teonath's asked again.
He's a gentleman at heart, and so its that, that has the Weyrlingmaster extricate his arm from Haisen's grasp, hand her his glass and shrug out of his flight jacket. A hand going indication of handing over her ragged coat, "Jacket's warmer." he offers by way of explanation, with a light curl of lips. Her words on between, simply draw a rough chuckle and the last is met with a smile, "Figured ya be goin' a mite stir crazy too." E'tyn and Gay catch the corner of his eye and X'ndar turns fractionally in that direction, their seemingly ruffled state afforded longer study. In a low tone to the woman with him, "Looks ta be this shindig's got more'n one trick runnin'."
Wyaeth> Teonath senses that Wyaeth's tone swats at flies; << Too little by themselves. Shells, too little put together. >>
"No." Gay's answer is nearly petulant; she's gone into a thoughtful, moody reverie - in the way that people do when they consider all the ways to kick the crap out of someone they really despise. Eventually, the presence of the weyrlings, and now X'ndar and Haisen sink in, the redheaded weyrwoman downs her glass of wine, tosses it back on a passing server's tray, and with a bounce of her curls; "Let's get outta here. Not doin' any good here."
With Talien choking on her own words, B'yan takes it upon himself to try and pat her back - as if that would help. "You really shouldn't hold back, you know," he drawls in a helpful manner, keeping the easy smile on his face. "As for Jaireth, well you know. He'd rather get lost Between before he takes up anything Svodriyth's offering." From afar, it looks almost as though the two of them were talking amiably over how well the weather has been holding up. Holding the glass up in examination, and passing a look over at the questioning look Talien sends his way, "Sometime, I'm taking you to the weavehall," he sends wryly. "Put that up there with me owing you that trip to the bar. When you're not babysitting the weyrlingmaster, that is."
A'zan inclines his head toward T'rev in agreement and echoes, "Damn cold indeed. Though a bit warmer at Telgar than 'Reaches I'm certain." There's that ghost of a smile again, whispering around his lips but then gone again. To Amerie he simply nods, confimring, "It is. Did you expect me to bare my soul?" Amused, the smile lights for a beat before sneaking away again, leaving him with neutrality mixed with concern as he looks over at the Weyrleader pair. He salutes them though they're a bit away, then glances at his companions and says, "Excuse me." Rising he heads toward E'tyn and Gay exchanging a mark-bit for a pair of small glasses of iced fruit brandy, a Crom speciality on his way. If he can catch them before they make good on Gay's suggestion he joins them with a grim nod and offers a glance to each.
glance=glass
Shanlee drifts back out of wherever she'd gone off too, a strange set to the fine features. Successfully grabbing up a wineskin from a vendor, a sidelong glance going to one of the 'Reachian bronzerider's in particular, the Weyrsecond melts back into the crowd again.
N'thei possesses enough good sense not to look at the Telgar leaders, not with the expression he wears while pouring out his third glass tonight; "I'd like to snap that boy's neck." His eyes raise from the pouring to chase A'zan off, and he tells this information to Amerie and T'rev in a flatly informative tone. "Never been to the southern continent myself, though I've made it as far as Boll a time or three. Heard they get a lot of rain along the coast there though." Like he can pick up the thread of conversation again with a smile and a guzzle.
A'zan does catch up with the pair before they depart, E'tyn's slowness beleaguering Gay's need for a hasty departure. What passes for stony for the Telgar Weyrleader would be like a cute puppy deciding to be upset, and it's much too hard for him to continue in this vein in light of his weyrmate's state of mind. "Promise," he notes under his breath, "Next time we find a dark closet with him in it, you can throw the first punch and my manly pride," a pause lingers to emphasis his attempts at restoring some humor, "Won't suffer for it as long as I get in the second. A'zan," the tenor lifts in acknowledgement, failing at amiable, but hauling itself onto that tiny ledge of neutral.
Drawing away from where the harpers have been performing, Giremi a little flush-faced makes his way along the aisles of stalls in search of a drink. Man on a mission, he doesn't immediately notice those around him and it's quick enough that he finds a drink-seller, opting for something chilled and light, rather than some of the heavier things available. Head above most of the crowd with bright hair up top, he's hard to miss and he spots a telltale head of apricot curls and starts to steer a course for the Telgar Weyrleaders.
Haisen eyes the jacket being offered with her usual suspicion, then with a sigh she shrug out of the coat and hands it gingerly over to him. Treating the raggedy thing like a fine bottle of wine, "Don' rip it," she warns X'ndar with a mock stare as she shrugs on his jacket quickly. "It's expensive." Just don't ask her how much. Once dressed, she affords a look over to the Telgar Weyrleaders that catch his eyes with interest to his remark. "What, like trouble or somethin'?" she returns to him, watching them, then those near intently.
It takes Talien a moment to shrug off what had her looking to B'yan, and by the way she reacts afterwards it's not likely to have been fully shaken off. "Poor sport. You should work on that. The both of you." Talien helpfully suggests, moments before draining the last of her wine from her glass. Upending it and dangling it from between her fingers, "'course if I accept that offer, me'n Svodriyth are gonna look like fools. Besides, he said I looked good." Beat. "Plus you're all well and good with /saying/ you'll do something, not so much with the doing."
It's not long after the Telgar Weyrleaders depart the Hold proper that Satiet appears without R'hin, high color on her cheeks and a snap in her pale eyes. Holding her ice blue skirts closely about her with one hand, the other rifles through her loose raven curls as she stands just outside the Hold doors, keen gaze moving rapidly midst the crowds to try and pinpoint a few necessary faces.
T'rev swallows his wine wrong at N'thei's remark and he starts coughing. "It's kind of a scrawny neck, sir. Probably wouldn't take much doin'. But worth it?" His hand waggles again, an echo of his earlier move. "Ain't been down Southern way m'self yet, still learnin' everything up here. But like I said, I'm from Nerat and I'm told the weather's similar enough. Warm. Humid. Air y'can feel when you wake up in the morning."
With a quirk of her lips for the answer, Amerie tells A'zan, "I can try." That fades quickly enough as the weyrling excuses himself to head over to the Telgari Weyrleaders. With a disapproving cast to her features, her gaze follows him before turning back to N'thei, bemused. "Which one?" Disparagingly, "I don't like the heat."
"They ain't gonna bite." X'ndar returns with a pointed look to the feline pelts lining his jacket, an odd inflection to his baritone. Haisen's coat is taken from her with exaggerated care and laid over one arm, skepticism showing in his eyes at the item's worth, "Ya mean the trinkets ya got inside are." If he feels the cold, he's not about to show it, wide shoulders roll under his shirt "Not sure. Been kept busy with weyrlin's an' all." Another glance toward his Weyrleader's before offering the dark haired woman his arm and looking to be starting in the direction of said weyrlings and their bronzeriding counterpart of the Reaches.
Gay looks up at A'zan with some little gratitude, taking the glass and downing it with a practiced hand. "Thanks," she tells him with a too-bright smile, cheeks flushed. At E'tyn's aside, she twitches - literally stiffens her willowy frame, telling the Weyrleader shakily, "Don't need a closet. Need a /knife/." At least she says that quietly enough for few to hear - though the commotion of Satiet's exit makes her pause, giving the younger of the men an apologetic glance. "Better that it not come to blows," she says tightly, turning on her heel and stalking off to Liabeth and Niereth - and apparently expecting E'tyn to follow.
N'thei answers gruffly to Amerie, "Pick one." How his face finds a smile when his voice sounds murderous is a practiced trick, and he picks one up flawlessly for the remnants of his conversation. "I never cared much for humidity myself. Or bugs. They've got some wicked critters that crawl around the jungles, I hear-tell." His fingers make like they'd insect their way up the girl's arm. Even in a crowd this thick, even halfway across Crom, his eyes ken to Satiet's entrance, tranquil gray squinted.
A'zan shakes his head at the bright brittle smile and even E'tyn's attempt at a friendly note. "The brandy is good and I'm not going to drink it," he offers to the Weyrleader in a low note. "If you don't want it, take the second for her, mmm?" With a glance over his shoulder at the ruckus at the entrance and the Weyrwoman causing it his eyes narrow. "Should I gather the Weyrlings and tell them to head back then?"
Edlyn heads back towards the table she had vacated not too long ago. This time, the green weyrling bares another tray of wine and cheese. She sets it down on the table and then flops - yes, /flops/ - into her chair. "My father caught me after all. Dunno /how/ I got roped into it, but here I am... back for good this time." She looks around the table and then smiles at T'rev. "At least I brought more goodies for us, huh?"
"Told you I've forgotten," B'yan is quick to quip as he swallows down some of the wine. "Jaireth will, eventually. Whatever. More wine?" Somehow, the wingsecond managed to procure himself a bottle, and trying to raise up her empty glass for a refill. "You'll look like fools if I -don't- offer my expertise," he drawls to the offer, sending the bluerider a thin look. "And what does a dragon know anyway? He's the one trying to foist you off on abandoned places and calling it 'surviving'." He's probably not even telling it right, not that he's going to correct it at this point. At her last, he turns to face her and places a hand on her shoulder firmly. "I'll stop by and we'll go," he states more evenly now. "I have something I need to take care of first, but if you don't mind that...." he trails, watching her face for any sign of doubt in his promises.
"Tons of bugs," T'rev supplies amiably, not giving any sort of reply to N'thei's presumably intended violence towards himself as well. "And here's the vintner's daughter back. Hey Ed." He's shooting another look off towards the Weyrleaders as Gay stalks off. "What'd you bring? Goodies sound ... really good right about now." His gaze skips back over to follow N'thei's to Satiet and he squints for a moment. "Is that your Weyrwoman, sir?"
"Yer coat's not bad," Haisen offers the weyrlingmaster as she fastens it closed against the weather. At the skepticism she catches in X'ndar's eyes, "It /is/ expensive," she repeats alittle more soberly now with a look. "Well, it doesn't look it now, but it is. Hasn't failed me yet." Nevermind the fact that it looks like it's already on its last leg. She takes his arm then and lets him steer her towards the weyrlings, nodding to his answer and casting another curious look towards the Weyrleaders. "Maybe Crom got somethin' to do with it?" she asks aloud, brow lifting as she walks.
"Enjoy the fair," opines E'tyn, watching with concern as Gay moves away. "I'll take it for her." The suggestion from the bronze weyrling quickens the light in the Weyrleader's eyes, how well he knows her. "Better that it not come to blows," he repeats Gay's statement, a look for A'zan which then drifts quickly to the other weyrlings and Telgar riders milling about. Be good, says those eyes, before he's off to follow after Gay.
"Svodriyth...." Talien, trailing off from her otherwise uncertain statement, shakes her head and forces a lighthearted smile. "Nah, it's alright. I know you're busy. 'sides, Svodriyth's still in one of those moods... he'll ruin it, I'm sure." The trip, presumably. Having one hand on her cane, the other on her refilled glass, Talien can't quite convey her sincerity in any other way other than the smile and tip of her head, "Honest, I don't mind."
"I know where to hide the bodies," Amerie tells N'thei all helpfully, slim fingers pulling a flask from the inside of her coat. Unusually charitable, she offers it to the large bronzerider first, rolling her eyes for his immediate attention. However, she suppresses any urges she has to comment, merely answering T'rev with a light, almost mocking, "Yes." Her dark gaze slips to Edlyn momentarily and she offers a nod.
Charis walks through into the fair area with ease, being from Crom originally. She looks about, searching the faces, shoulders a bit tense, hands gripped at her side. After a few moments the rider makes her way over to the tables and fills a glass with wine, drinking it down in one motion before filling it up again.
Giremi does not manage to make it through the crowd to the Weyrleaders in time to catch them and instead he stands there looking just a trifle perplexed and troubled, eyes lifting up to the Hold proper, head shaking back and forth slightly. His lips purse and he steps out of the flow of traffic leaning against a stall post, drink set aside to scribble something on a bit of hide. A moment later, a brown firelizard winks out of Between and after cruising the general area, hones in on the tall harper and makes for his shoulder, chittering. A tidbit from Remi's pocket is fed to the lizard then he ties the note to the brown's leg and sends him off again.
N'thei hasn't noticed Edlyn yet, totally but briefly distracted. The good-natured bronzerider that started the evening has grown steadily less entertaining till he's reached the point where he fraction-of-a-smile answers Amerie's clever comment. "Yes. --You know, before it was out of necessity." He plops his half-drained wineskin on the arm of the chair beside the girl and takes the flask instead, someone's asking for a hangover. "I think now it's just going to be out of spite." He looks down with a wicked smile, just then to realize there's someone new here. He shows his teeth around the mouth of the flask, maybe it's a smile?
"Make sure to let my mother know where to find mine," notes T'rev with the barest hint of sarcasm in his voice, the cheer he's been using until now finally disrupted and he tops his wine up again, perhaps unwisely. "Edlyn, meet N'thei, bronze Wyaeth's of the High Reaches, Amerie, likewise. Y'all, this Edlyn, green Arenith's, my clutchmate and provider of many of the fine beverages at this here table this evenin'."
The air is thick with tension and Edlyn is not too far behind to picking up on it. Her shoulders stiffen as she sits more firmly in her chair, polite nod returned to Amerie. "Yes, I brought more wine for us to enjoy. It's white, with some crisp grapes and cheese." The green weyrling flicks her hands at the tray then leans forward to snag herself another glass and a piece of cheese. Her attention shifts and focuses on T'rev as introductions are made. Eyes flicker at the other bronzerider and she presses her lips together in a thin line before she sips from her glass. "Nice to meet you all, of course. Hope you enjoy the wine."
Having almost reached the table where A'zan, T'rev and Edlyn are ensconced, X'ndar hefts an amused glance down to Haisen, "Ya can say it. Its damn fine an' ya wish it was yours." Pulling her hand in closer to his side a low chuckles spills, "So can I wear it then?" the arm where her tatty old coat is slung lifts in indication, "Ya need a new one." The Telgari Weyrleaders leaving right as they arrive has that thoughtful look following them for a breathspan and then back to those in sight "Evenin' weyrlin's, enjoyin' the freedom?" to the unfamiliar that are seated there "Telgar's duties ta High Reaches."
Now drinkless, A'zan simply nods after the departing Weyrleaders and then his eyes snap up to the fireheights where his lifemate lounges. Concern and anger war across his features, though as usual the shifts are slight - brows and lips twitching for a beat, but as the Weyrleading pair disappears he brings that blankness carefully back to his face. Slipping his hands into his pockets and aiming for nonchalance he turns back to the crowd, but his stone grey eyes can't help but flicker to Satiet at least for a moment. Icy eyes matched by the pale blue of her gown, raven hair contrasting, not to mention the reputation and the way the air nearly crackles around her, a glance at least is warranted. Scrutiny narrows his pale gaze for that beat and if it should meet hers, he offers a neat salute that is brief as propriety will allow.
Satiet does not seek long, nor does she stay still for much longer as cool, distant eyes train onto B'yan with Talien close by, but fail in their attempts to place another. Long gather skirts grant the illusion of an effortlessly graceful glide as the daintily clad woman makes her way further into the crowd. Sharpish chin lifted, a supercilious glance passed onto a cluster of Cromese standing by the baker's tent, High Reaches' Weyrwoman makes a striking path through groups of people until she reaches N'thei, and by virtue of drawing up on the distinctively wall-like man, Amerie and T'rev. With A'zan not too far, the noticeable salute garners a glance to his shoulder, thin brows climbing in askance, and while her gaze remains on A'zan for a long moment, the lean of her body and words are for N'thei's ears, "Have you seen Shanlee?"
Giremi spots another familiar figure in the crowd as he completes sending his message and it doesn't take the Harper long to figure out the body language between the Weyrlingmaster and the traveler. His eyes settle on the two for a moment, then pushing away from that pole, the harper heads back the way he came, face as carefully blank as nearby A'zan's.
Amerie gives N'thei a somewhat disapproving look, though it's all surface gloss - something about her eyes is amused, bright. Languidly, she turns her palm up to take the flask back when he's done, noting idly, "That doesn't help anything. And of course." She turns to T'rev to offer what could only be termed as a killer smile. "I can oblige. Well met, Edlyn. I haven't had the wine, but..." Her words trail off as Satiet approaches, quiet now.
Shanlee's just stepping out of the shadows, hood of cape being lowered as she does so, and wineskin in firm grip. Over one arm there's a drape of green fabric that shimmers and shifts under the light of glows. Likely, she'd been off somewhere striking deals with traders if the satisfied pull to her mouth is anything to go by. Or perhaps it were something else entirely as her gaze finds and settles on Satiet over the crowd between them.
Charis turns with the glass of wine in her hands, sipping quietly, scanning the area for familiar faces. She watches Satiet make her way across and over to where N'thei, Amerie and T'rev are gathered. A brow is arched slightly taking in the demeanor of her Weyrwoman, studying the situation with an amused expression.
Amerie's killer smile is returned in kind. "Thanks. 'Preciate it. She'd be heartbroke to find me with m'neck snapped." At Satiet's approach, T'rev's gaze centers on the Weyrwoman, with N'thei's confirmation, he eyes the woman curiously and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Shells. Tiriana was right," he murmurs and then shuts the hell up as the woman gets right up to the table. He rises politely and snaps off a salute to echo A'zan's before dropping back into his seat and reclaiming his flagon of wine. Wine. Wine /good/.
Haisen and X'ndar's approach is met with a grateful smile from Edlyn. "Evening, sir, Haisen. Would either of you like to try some of my father's wine? It's some of the best here -- er, well, I mean, you should like it." A faint blush rises to her cheeks as she lifts the tray and holds it out to the pair. It remains there even as Satiet comes upon the table. The Weyrwoman's knot is noticed first and then the green weyrling extends the offer, "If you would like a glass, ma'am, please help yourself." T'rev is given a sidelong look, though Ed does not comment.
N'thei greets X'ndar with a polite-enough, "Sir, Reaches duties." He tipples from the flask one last time then places it smartly on Amerie's palm, breathes out in her direction just to thank her for the drink. "I haven't," he answers to Satiet promptly, only turns enough that he can land his eyes on her in proximity. "But I'd certainly like to find her. There's a little bast-- young fellow I'd like to introduce her to in a dark cavern just to see him get shredded. I'll have a look around." Height alone like to make it easier for him to find the diminutive Shanlee in this mess of people.
Wyaeth> I bespoke Kaylith with << N'thei says for Shanlee to c'mere. Satiet wants her. >>
When ice meets stone, A'zan's brows mirror Satiet's slipping ever so slightly upward. It's a Weyrling's duty to salute a Weyrwoman is it not? He watches her lean in to the looming man that sits with his fellows, holding that gaze levelly for as long as she offers it. It is only when she turns her attention to other things that he ambles over, affecting nonchalance as he settles behind Edlyn, resting long-fingered hands on the back of his chair. He just misses N'thei's words but he comes right on the heels of them. "I promised the Weyrwoman I'd buy her a drink, and seeing as how she was hurrying off thought I'd catch her," he offers wryly as an excuse for his absence. He salutes X'ndar, nodding to the Reachians he has already met and offering, "Duties to High Reaches, Teonath, and the rest of her queens," softly towards Satiet.
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Kaylith 's splashes reproof into her return for that summons << Mine is aware, but will wait until Teonath's is less occupied. >>
Satiet slants Edlyn a quick look, the ma'am drawing her attention far more than the offer of wine. She states in droll simplicity, "I don't drink," then dismisses the Telgar weyrling by virtue of her attention drawn back to N'thei. Perhaps it was his height she was banking on, her reason for seeking this particular rider out when looking for another, rather than highly useful dragon communication, or for the reaction her presence might garner, all slight of frame and frigidly pretty. "If you find her or others," a glance casts about, lashes flickering as they find Charis, "Spread the word. By virtue of Telgar's never ending charity, we've tithes to move." A beat passes, almost as if she might ignore A'zan's greetings, before she advises curtly, without a glance, "Don't offer duties unmeant, weyrling."
"Reaches duties," Amerie echoes generally and quietly. With the barest grimace for booze-breath over there, the girl takes the flask back in hand. After a sip of her own, she leans back in her seat, waiting for orders, by the glances she gives the slight goldrider now and again. Lowly, to A'zan - noting his interest in Satiet with a sharp glance - she notes, "Gentlemanly of you."
Wyaeth> Kaylith senses that Wyaeth's immune to reproof, just as much as he is social niceties; ain't you figured that out yet?
Dragon> Wyaeth senses that Kaylith is unconcerned by the brashness of the bronze, her flow of mind strong and unyielding << Mine awaits yours and the others at the place of temporary storage. >> The image provided earlier by Teonath given up once again.
T'rev takes what's probably meant as a steadying drink, then pushes the flagon aside, looking up at A'zan with a nod and echoes A'zan's polite greeting to the Weyrwoman just before she issues her remark about them being unmeant. His brows hike upwards just a little and opens his mouth to say something, then perhaps prudently, shuts his mouth firmly again, then his gaze lingers on the slight Reachian. He shoots Edlyn a quick look and reaches over to steal a cluster of grapes from the girl's tray with a warm smile for the weyrling greenrider, then settles back in his chair, taking it all in.
N'thei's had three glasses of wine and two shots of whatever's in Amerie's flask; diplomacy is going to have to find another host. "If you ask me, we ought to tell Telgar to stick its charity where the sun don't shine. We can look after our own." In the middle of that proclamation, he takes a moment to give A'zan a look, not to be confused with warning, this look is downright threat. "Shanlee's with the so-called tithe. Think I'll join her. Amerie, you're taken care of back to the Reaches?"
Edlyn opts not to respond to the refusal of her offer of wine. Instead, her attention is diverted to A'zan as he seats himself nearby. A smile, if strained, is offered his way. "Hey, A'zan. Didn't see you most of the day. Hope you've been enjoying our outing?" She sets the tray back down on the table and reaches to grab her own glass of wine. This is sipped delicately as she simply watches those gathered around her. N'thei's remarks lift the girl's brows upwards, though she does not comment.
A'zan absorbs the curt words with a quirk of his mouth, a faint smirk that is almost admiring. He bends at the waist in a slight bow, spreading his hands to his sides as if allowing her the truth in his words. "Duties simply to you and yours then, Weyrwoman. Regardless of circumstances that at least I mean unfettered." He turns his attention to Amerie with that grin lingering, deepening if anything. "I'm nothing if not polite, though gentlemanly might be stretching it." Really, polite isn't exactly par for A'zan's course either, but the amusement in his eyes likely speaks to that. "Besides, as your lovely Weyrwoman just said, us Telgari folk are charitable. Neverendingly so even." This with another little wave of fingers toward Satiet. It happens to bring his eyes up to N'thei in time to be caught up in that pointedly threatening look. He meets it, face falling back to stonily neutral, one brow quirking upward. Oh, really?
... the truth in her words...
Charis continues to look around, eyes narrowing slightly, a smile creeping to her lips with a look of recognition when her gaze settles on Edlyn. The bluerider makes her way through the crowd, nodding and excusing herself as she pushes through to come up beside the young woman. She leans a little closer to her, speaking quietly, "I do believe dat your father wanted ya ta know dat there seem ta be some trays of wine missin" She grins at Edlyn, taking a small step away, waiting to see if she recognizes her.
The approach of the High Reaches Weyrwoman grabs his attention as much as it does that of the others near him. X'ndar slants a long and somewhat appreciative look over the raven haired goldrider, "Evenin' Ma'am." a respectful dip of head given. N'thei's return greeting met with an acknowledging shift of eyes, but it's A'zan that garners his full attention for now, a brow lifting for the bronze weyrling's demeanor. His weyrlings are his concern and therefore the brownrider stays right out of whatever is going on between the Reachians. Edlyn gains a grin, "Never so no ta free wine Edlyn." hand holding out his glass toward the weyrling greenrider, quite sure that Haisen is free to do the same, he cants a look her way, then adds in support of A'zan, "Telgar is always willin' ta offer hospitality." his looks hardening now onto N'thei.
Amerie gives a nod to N'thei, with a touch of a smile for his words; "I can find my way home." Sipping from the flask again, the tall girl flicks her dark gaze from the Reachian bronzerider to A'zan. As lightly, though mockingly, she sing-songs to the now-Telgari, "Polite is an improvement." Lower voiced, much more sincere - at least, as much as the dark girl is like to get, "Don't do it. It's not worth you going home broken." By her expression, she's completely serious. Hiding bodies indeed.
In the light of failing pride, it's funny just how straighter Satiet's spine sits and how far back her shoulders pull. The finishing grace to the image that is Reaches' senior queenrider is the slight draw up of her chin as pale eyes follow the lines of N'thei's height. Charity. Such a defeat; so much so that her pale eyes fail to drop to seek out any faces or gazes of the gathered Telgari and stay fixed, neck crink and all, up at the tall bronzerider's face. Coldly, "You. Shall do no such thing. Good night." Tellingly, should one care to notice, Leiventh is no longer a figure in the landscape of dragons in the distance; his departure as unnoted as his rider's exit from the Hold. It's only when she's about to leave that the sweeping lines of departure her slight frame follows deigns to drop to find the cluster of Telgar weyrlings, in particular A'zan. Then, she's off, disappearing into a crowd that, more often than not, parts for her.
Edlyn latches onto the distraction that is offered by the bluerider's approach and the information that is shared. "Is that so? Well, I worked his stall most of the day... so you can just tell him...," and now she catches herself in speaking further. Her brows flick downwards as she appraises Charis. Features that fell into contemplation are smoothed over as a smile - warm, even - is offered. "Charis! I didn't recognize you at first. Shells, it's been turns. Did you go and find my father? Hope he did right by you, today. Best wine out this year." The words spill from the green weyrling in a rush, tension smoothed over suddenly by the appearance of an old friend.
The threatening look and words from N'thei, bring out a line of tension in T'rev's jaw, but A'zan's cool words draw out a look of respect and admiration from the younger of the bronze weyrlings from Telgar. "Don't think that's happenin'," he notes conversationally to Amerie, with a ghost of his formerly cheery smile and he breaks a grape off the cluster he got from Edlyn and pops it into his mouth. Brown eyes track the Reaches' Weyrwoman away as she departs and he sits there for a moment, thoughtful, then seems to come back to earth and eyes the exchange between Charis and Edlyn. "Who's this Ed?"
There's an impatient air now about Shanlee, one can almost see her boot tapping it out. Well sense it more then see it. Satiet's abrupt departure from where she'd been draws the Weyrsecond onto a path designed to intercept the Weyrwoman.
N'thei repeats importantly, "If you ask me. Which no one did." Satisfied that he got to shoot his mouth off anyway, he raises a brow right back at A'zan, his head nodding along with Amerie's assessment. "Clear skies, gents, ladies." Wineskin collected, his priorities are still in tact while he strides off through the ever-dwindling crowd toward the far line of tents. For entirely different reasons than those given to Satiet, people just tend to stay out of his way, gee-go-figure. Overhead, Wyaeth glides off the fireheights and beats him to the destination, lands with his usual heavy thud.
Charis tries very hard to not let the grin broaden on her lips before clearing her throat, "I don't believe dat I got a salute Weyrling? I've earned dat respect don't ya think?" she says, tone teasing fully. She moves closer and offers the weyrling a hug, "Its 'as been several turns since a saw ya last." When she pulls back she looks the weyrling over, "And ya weren't grown up neither." The young woman smiles at those with the seeming friend she's greeted, "And your father did treat me right. Excellent wine and I didn't run into my da yet, which is good."
A'zan's eyes flicker up to where Kevruth sits, then back down to the form of Satiet departing. The show of pride overcompensating for what lies beneath draws his brows together, and his farewell nod to her is for once without any underlying jab. He watches the crowd part and flow back together for the span of two breaths, but then Amerie's words draw his eyes back downward. "Don't do /what/ Assistant Headwoman? I've been unerringly appropriate, saluting and everything." His tone is wry, some amusement lingering even in the face of the blatant threat from the man who could so easily knock him into next Pass. Abruptly, out of place, there's a blink and his eyes go distant, followed by a frown. "Well. It seems Kevruth is hungry and as I would hate to put undue stress on Crom's hospitality, I think we will be off as well. You all enjoy your evening." He takes advantage of the path hewn by the looming bronzerider, but treks off to one side to await Kevruth at the edge of the crowd.
X'ndar's left tracking after the goldrider too, another glance down to his now silent companion and the Weyrlingmaster decides on a course of action. With a nod to those at the table, his words are to the weyrlings in particular, "Iffen ya have need o' me, just give Val a call." Without further comment, the brownrider steps off to one side and steers himself and Haisen through the crowd, heading toward a quieter area, hopefully less wrought with tension.
Satiet, in no mood to be intercepted, is also not in any mood to actually notice an impending interception until it's too late. Just beyond the main crowd, but still close enough to garner curious looks from traders and milling public alike, she remarks to Shanlee, "I've been looking for you." The coldness wrought by proximity to Telgar fades, releasing the pent tension of her slim shoulders and smoothing the overly proud lines etched into her features. A hand fidgets, playing in the folds of her dress, a testament to the crumbling facade within. "You've heard?"
"Mm." That's Amerie's only response for N'thei, A'zan - all bronzeriders, apparently. As people begin to make their apologies and head out, the show over, the tall girl caps her flask, and takes this excellent opportunity to disappear off into the Hold proper.