[Log] Usurpation
Who: E'sere, L'dor
When: Day 11, Month 7, Turn 375
Where: Bowl, Benden Weyr; Council Room, Benden Weyr
What: E'sere makes a bid for B'net's old wing.
It's still quite early in Benden's morning, but this part of the Bowl is not lacking in activity. There's a knot of riders, with and without dragons, gathered round a blue and the man standing by him. That's L'dor, for once wearing his leathers and his wingsecond's knot, and raising his voice to quiet the alarmed wingriders. "I don't know any more than you do, but getting agitated isn't going to help. If B'net and Hafizth had died, the watchdragon would have keened. And you know as well as I do what possibilities that leaves. Now if you'll let me through to go and find S'dric, we may find out what's happening." Even more firmly, he finishes, "And we'll drill this afternoon as planned. You can't stop fighting because a wingleader drops out." With that, he barges through the crowd and strides towards the Council Room.
E'sere is only one of those waiting, but far less obviously. He and Morelenth are a little ways off from the grouping, the bronzerider checking over his dragon's straps idly. When L'dor heads off, though, he thumps Morelenth's shoulder with one hand and then slides down himself, heading at a slow pace in pursuit of the bluerider toward the Council Room.
Once free of the wingriders, L'dor heads into the Council Room. Despite what he told his wingmates, he doesn't in fact show any sign of surprise at finding it devoid of S'dric or any of the other usual occupants. He leans against the wall close to the door and lets his eyes lose focus, perhaps, now that he has a little peace, making the arrangements for the meeting he needs.
E'sere knocks lightly at the doorway as he pauses there, frowning slightly as he sees L'dor slouch by it. "L'dor?" he asks quietly. "Everything all right? I don't want to disturb you if you... Well. I understand if you need a break for a bit."
L'dor turns his head sharply as whatever he's saying to Banyth is interrupted. "E'sere. That's all right. I was just going to try and see S'dric - find out if he knows what's happened to B'net. Though," he adds resignedly, "if he'd been going off on Weyr business, I'd have thought he'd at least have warned me."
"Ah. Yes," agrees E'sere delicately as he steps inside. "I actually wanted to speak to you about the same thing, if you don't mind. I had intended to ask if you knew anything about the situation, but, well. I suppose the wingleaders S'dric and B'net didn't tell you, whatever they had planned, unfortunately. The wing seems to be in quite the uproar, though--I'm sorry you're stuck dealing with the aftermath of this."
L'dor shrugs, lips pursing for a moment, but straightens, so that he's no longer leaning against the wall. "It goes with the job. We'll carry on as normal until S'dric tells us otherwise. And if S'dric sent B'net off some- somewhere, he might have told him not to tell anyone, I suppose."
"Goes with the job?" asks E'sere, head cocked. "Not being told these things? ... I suppose it's a byproduct of the secrecy of the mission, if that's the case, though--rather like the whole /betweening/ through times issue, yes?" He frowns still, thoughtful. "But the carrying on--that's really what I wished to speak with you about."
L'dor shakes his head, grinning faintly. "Not that - though we do need a bit of that, it's true. Dealing with the Wing, is all I meant. But - well, yes. Betweening through times would be my guess - and all the guys out there will be guessing the same thing. Question is, when's he gone and is he coming back? Anyway, you wanted to talk about something?"
"I can't imagine why we would need to send someone else time-traveling again," remarks E'sere, with a faint, resigned shrug. "But I wasn't made privy to that information any more than you, it would seem. But--oh, yes. I did. I wanted to let you know, that in the interim, while the wingleader B'net isn't with us, I will be taking his place."
L'dor frowns sharply at that. "You will? Then you do know what's going on? What did S'dric tell you?" He's peering intently at the bronzerider, and there's a slight tilt to his head that betokens puzzlement.
"No, no," E'sere shakes his head wryly. "He didn't. He mentioned, the morning after Feliath's flight, installing me into a position as a wingleader--your wing's, obviously--but he never said anything further on it before the wingleader B'net's disappearance. I have to admit, it makes me mildly worried of how this transition will go, even with the wingleader S'dric's support, and even knowing it's only intended to be an interim position until your wingleader's return."
"He said it was to be interim?" L'dor is still frowning and sounds a little sceptical. Then he shakes his head. "I don't get this at all. There's no reason for B'net to go back now. I need to talk to S'dric about this. If you'll excuse me, bronzerider...." He turns slightly, making those movements that indicate that he's planning on leaving.
"I intend it to be interim," corrects E'sere, with a shake of his head. "The wing needs a wingleader, but I don't want to cost a perfectly good one his position, whether or not this is a planned absence. I am, mostly, concerned it will look a little... convenient, on my part--a wingleader disappearing just as my Morelenth wins Feliath's flight, and letting me step into his spot. That's why I wanted to speak to you first, and try to make this transition easier, and to make sure you, and the wing, understand where I stand on the situation."
L'dor halts as E'sere speaks again, and listens carefully. "You don't know, then? So, have I got this straight? S'dric mentioned the possibility of your leading a wing. You assumed he meant B'net's - or did he say so?" He apparently answers his own question as he goes straight on, "You assumed he meant B'net's, because, let's face it, he's not likely to give up his own, but he said no more about it until B'net disappeared. And he's said nothing about it since. So, you're assuming that B'net's disappearance is temporary, and planned, and that that's what S'dric meant?" He takes a deep breath and though he's now sounding thoroughly bemused, there's a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he enquires, "All this assuming - wouldn't it be simpler just to ask him?"
"He said so, and, well. Yes," E'sere agrees with the latter assumption, wryly. And then, on the latter question, he looks surprised, brows arching. "I didn't think it worth the trouble, considering it all seems very self-explanatory to me, yes?"
L'dor considers for a moment. "Actually, no. But then, perhaps I'm thinking more about what B'net would do than what S'dric would do - known him a long time, after all. Look, I need to know what's happened to B'net. And, don't take offence, but - you're a wingleader at Reaches: you wouldn't expect /your/ wingsecond to hand your wing over to a visitor from another Weyr without hearing it from proper authority." He winds up firmly, "I'm going to talk to S'dric. After that, we can deal with the... handover, if that's what it is."
"Of course," agrees E'sere, with a nod to that. "Go speak to him yourself, then, and I'll see you in the afternoon for the wing's usual drills."
"See you later," L'dor agrees matter-of-factly, though he's not specific about the time. He finally makes his getaway, heading out into the now much emptier Bowl and making his way towards Banyth.