[Log] What Must Be Done
Who: R'uen, Teris, Tiriana
When: Day 27, Month 9, Turn 21
Where: Tiriana and R'uen's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
What: Teris goes too far in the War on K'del.
The day's work is winding down, and it's time to start gathering all the papers in and make sure everything is ready to start all over again in the morning. Tiriana sits at her desk, a glass of something alcoholic in front of her while she fiddles with numbers and puts the finishing touches on one last column of end-of-month inventory sheets.
When Teris arrives, there's her usual one knock and then entering rather than waiting around for permission. "Here are those copies. I already dropped one off for Giorda. She seems to be holding up pretty well." Idle chatter isn't entirely part of Teris' MO but, hey, people can do new things sometimes. She puts the rest of her folder down to sort through, again, but this time wordlessly.
"Mm," Tiriana grunts first in Teris' direction: acknowledge of papers, not of the knocking; she's certainly long since stopped even the pretense of giving permission on that one. Now, it takes her a moment to actually notice Teris and look up at her. "She is, isn't she." It's not a question, though the next is: "Do you think we could get away with keeping her full-time?"
"I was wondering the same thing," Teris admits after a pause for thought. "Seems like once they start having babies, they don't like to take a break." Which is very likely not true, but Teris seems to think it is. And she's obviously not talking about Giorda there. "Look better if it was the Headwoman's idea, no doubt," she says offhandedly as she moves to file what's ready to be.
"Yeah." Tiriana is thoughtful, too: just hear those gears grinding. "You want a drink?" is not exactly related to the current topic, but she lifts her glass anyway before peering about for where she left the bottle. It's on the end table, so that's where she heads now, abandoning everything on her desk for the comfort of flopping down onto the couch instead. "There's glasses in the cabinet. --So you mean, like... if she decided to quit--no, no, to /retire/--to... spend more time with the family. Or something."
While Teris doesn't tend to drink very much in general, a glass with the Weyrwoman must sound harmless enough because she makes some affirmative sound and goes to fetch herself a glass. The filing is abandoned long enough to put the glass to use. "It could happen. I know her own family is... interesting. But I don't know if she plans to foster the girl or," she makes a gesture with her hand, "what."
Tiriana, pouring a glass for Teris, pulls her legs up under her and remarks, oh-so-innocent, "You could find out." Except, a beat later, "Not that she'd ever believe either one of us was asking in good faith. We don't do that." A shrug follows--what can you do?--and then she takes a sip of her refreshed glass. "It's... weird," she decides in the end. "I don't like it."
"Me?" Teris asks somewhat doubtfully after a nod of thanks for the pouring. She sniffs at the glass before taking a sip. "I'm not sure me asking about that sort of thing would be the best idea. I could talk to... K'ndro, perhaps." The blonde might not quite know what exactly is weird but she nods in agreement anyway like a good minion. Or something.
"Oh, oh! That's good," says Tiriana, gesturing with her glass-hand. "He could do it, I bet. And he's not real bright, either, so he wouldn't see us coming. Or, you coming, or whatever." Beat. "What about K'del, is he...?" A shrug finishes that question; she sure as hell doesn't know what he is, on this issue or likely any other.
There's little warning before R'uen's arrival, just the scuff of boots a second before he appears. And that appearance is one of dishevelment from some good healthy exhertion. His dark hair finds itself in haphazard arrangement, there's an easy brightness to his eye, a flush in his cheeks, and his shirt is splotched with damp patches. It takes a moment and a hitch in his step before his gaze skims over both women and he realizes, ah-hah, they have a visitor. He breaks into a cheeky, teasing grin, "Even the dullest of men would see you coming." And with a nod, and more of that smile he adds, "Evening, Teris," and heads for the water pitcher.
Gaze wandering off slightly back toward where she hasn't quite finished filing, Teris muses, "I don't think my encouraging anything between K'del and Milani would be very appreciated at the moment. I think I might have, ah, struck a nerve with the Weyrleader on that note." Her gaze lifts when R'uen appears and she watches him for a moment, hesitating before she says anything else. But then she does. "Evening." A beat returns her gaze to the goldrider, "Anyway, I'm not sure K'del would do her much good. He's doubting whether or not he can have children at all as it is."
"What'd you do to him?" Tiriana wonders, brows lifting in surprise. That train of thought's put on hold a moment then, as she leans around to eye R'uen and his mussed look suspiciously. "Where have you been? You're disgusting," she demands first of all, with narrowed eyes. K'del's fertility, though, is even more interesting, and Tiriana's gaze pulls sharply back to Teris. "What, like he even /wants/ kids? Or does he just want to pretend he's a real man now or something?" she scoffs.
R'uen just gives Tiriana a wink for an answer, though when he passes by the two women on his way to the water there is a certain, shall we say, manly aroma, a mingling of autumn air and sweat, coming from him. Surely to some, it would be disgusting. He doesn't seem at all self-conscious about it though. Instead he goes about his business, pouring a glass of water and emptying it down his throat before preparing to repeat. It's then that he glances back at the women with a curious arc to his brow and a deeply amused grin still pulling at his lips. Then another glass of water goes down the hatch.
"Just said some things," Teris says as she takes another sip and glances in R'uen's direction again. She, of course, says nothing to the state of him considering she doesn't really have to. "He seems to. I mean, he seemed troubled by the fact that he's yet to knowingly have any. Though if he could with her," this thought doesn't sound entirely amazing to Teris, "I'm sure he'd be absolutely thrilled." And distracted.
"You stink," Tiriana points out the obvious. "Go take a bath or something; we're trying to... you know. Plot." Might as well come out and say it. She makes a face at R'uen anyway before wiggling down further in the couch. "You can sit down, y'know," she adds to Teris a beat later. "And Faranth. What the hell is it with people and babies? It's so stupid. He's a kid, he oughta be glad the brat's not his."
Did R'uen just make a little face? Why, yes he might have. Or maybe the water is backing up on him. Who knows. When he turns properly toward the girls again, there's nothing but that easy, affable expression. He slings a chair out from the table to set it behind where Teris stands, echoing the Werywoman's invitation. "Might as well sit," he murmurs to her, close by her shoulder. "Or take the couch," is added with a tip of his head toward the space next to Tiriana. Apparently aware of how 'disgusting' he might be, he does them both a favor and takes his own seat in the leather chair to the side rather than inflict is sweaty perfume on them. "Trying to get rid of me?" he asks his weyrmate, already starting to tsk woefully and shake his head. "No faith in my plotting skills."
Teris glances at Tiriana, the space on the cough, then Tiriana again before the chair ala R'uen but finally she settles on the couch, one leg crossing over the other in her properly tense fashion. "I can't really imagine actually wanting to have them," she admits before taking another sip. She's on a roll tonight already. "Anyway, I told him he ought not be spending so much time with Milani. Especially now that she has some other bronzerider's child. It just seems... kind of sad." That's not exactly sympathy in her voice, though.
Tiriana gives R'uen a withering look. "Girls plot. Guys... just punch things and then get over it," says the queen of punching things. "And anyway, you don't even care, do you? About Milani and K'del and their not-love-child or whatever. --I can't, either," she tacks on very quickly to Teris' statement, without looking to R'uen. "Why would he even stick around? I mean, it's pathetic and dumb and it's not like you don't /know/ exactly what she is and what's going on. Why would you want that?" It even sounds like a genuine sort of question now, confusion in her voice.
"The one punching things is usually you," R'uen points out with a glance toward Tiriana. "Or throwing things, at least." The turns the glass in his hand with a contemplative touch. "Besides, I haven't heard the aim of the plot yet." Eyebrows go up as he looks between the girls, waiting to see if that information will be volunteered, or perhaps if they even know it themselves.
"Do you want children?" Teris turns her head to look at R'uen curiously if a little doubtfully. She's obviously asking him and not Tiriana for a reason. "I don't really understand why he's wanting to continue their 'relationship'." Audible air quotes there. "It's not like there aren't plenty of women in the Weyr." Which makes her frown for just a moment and glance Tiriana-wards. "That's actually what I told him. That it was pathetic. He didn't really like that. And I may have told him that him being with other woman made me jealous." Those last words are spoken a little more quickly, running into each other uncharacteristically.
"No, he--/what/?" Tiriana's answering for R'uen is cut short by Teris' latter confession, the rider's eyes widening. "You /what/? Are you serious? Tell me you're not serious. I mean, you aren't really--Faranth, what kind of double-agent /are/ you?"
There's little doubt in R'uen's returned grin, that amusement deepening the corners of his smile. "Doesn't sound likely, does it? Considering how uninterested Ti seems to be." He jerks his chin toward the goldrider, smirking happily. "So K'del. Is -he- the jealous sort or the sort to claim otherwise?" And as Tiriana sputters, Rev drinks his water. "Seems you've shocked her," he grins over at Teris, bouncing his brows at her and seeming perfectly delighted by the Weyrwoman's reaction. He also pulls his shirt from his chest to get a little air against his skin. Still sweaty, after all.
That's going to need another drink. And the one she takes isn't exactly delicate. Teris shoots the bronzerider a quick look then lifts up a pacifying hand for Tiriana. "Calm down. I just wanted-- I didn't want him to just never talk to me again. And it seemed to work." So there.
Tiriana makes a rude gesture R'uen's way for his part in mocking her, though most of her attention is still locked on Teris. "But you didn't /really/ mean it, did you? You didn't. How could anybody really be jealous of him, let alone /you/?" she counters. A beat later, she's also recovering enough to throw one of the pillows on the couch at R'uen's head. "And don't you start on the damn kid thing again, either," she warns for good measure.
R'uen sheilds his water and lets the pillow bounce off his face, no worse for wear. "I didn't start anything. She brought it up." However, the reference to Teris does have his attention closing in on her, her and that not-delicate sip she took of her drink. "You did mean it, didn't you," he hazards of Teris's proclaimed jealousy.
"Of course I didn't /really/ mean it." Teris looks between the both of them with a defensive furrow between her thin eyebrows. "Not like that," she adds with a shake of her head and then she's pushing herself to her feet and downing the rest of her glass like a professional. She starts moving to set it down on the table so she can finish up the rest of her filing. "You said you wanted me to do what I needed to," she reminds the Weyrwoman neutrally without looking back that way.
"Oh, fuck it all," Tiriana says, and she downs most of what's left of her own drink then. "You did mean it. I didn't mean fall for him? How could you. R'uen!" As though somehow it must be his fault; she glowers at him. "Tell her this is dumb. There are better ones, and I know it's not like you can get a man anyway, but you still don't have to settle for the horniest, most desperate one out there even if I, um. Yeah." Her own part in this is not completely forgetten, at least: it's what leads to the prompt refilling of said glass.
R'uen gives an attentive look to Tiriana, and then to Teris, like he might obey the command, only then the goldrider falters in her brief tirade and he's distracted from the task at hand. "Even if you what?" he asks her. Finally something other than easy curiosity is breaking across his features, expression turning more serious and bewildered and he glances between the girls.
"It's not like that," Teris says as she works on finishing up what needs to be finished on her part so she'll have no other reason to linger. "I haven't /fallen/ for him or anyone else. I just... don't do that. At all." The change in tone on the bronzerider's part has her falling silent but not in any fashion that could be considered demure. It's a tense silence. But at least it lets her finish what she's doing.
"Put her up to it, okay?" Tiriana snaps off an answer to R'uen. Nevermind her freshened glass; it's set down noisily on the end table. "I mean, maybe you could--I don't know, fix whatever the fuck's wrong with him, if anybody could. But he's not worth the trouble anyway, especially when he's on his way out. Iovniath's got to go up eventually, right? And then no more K'del, at all, ever."
Oh, well, it all makes more sense to R'uen now. Doesn't trouble always start with her? "Ah," he says, letting his glance slip over to the silent and busy Teris as she hurries through her filing. "Well, I..." he starts. However, his two marks don't get any farther than that. With some silence of his own, Rev gets up from his seat and heads back over to the water pitcher.
"Oh, no. With your luck, Tiriana, I'm sure your next Weyrleader will be someone like W'chek. At least K'del is easier to..." Teris waves a hand without actually finishing that thought. It's likely she can't quite think of the word. "So I can leave him alone now? Are we done here? I don't think there's anything else that can't wait until morning."
"Yeah, I'd have to hire your brother if I wanted /him/ seduced," Tiriana spits back at Teris then. "Fine. Go. That will be all," is her curt dismissal of the assistant. She's already rising to turn toward the back room, meeting concluded and even R'uen apparently ignored just now.
R'uen has moved to stand by that water pitcher, only the refill hasn't actually happened. Instead he decides to drain the last mouthful from his glass and waft his shirt a bit more while giving Teris and Tiriana privacy to exchange their hard worse behind his back. As the Werywoman moves to leave, he glances over at her assistant, his mouth hitched in something that could hardly be mistaken for a smile and yet shows a bit of sympathy just the same.
There's a muffled grumble of frustration from Teris under her breath as she makes her way out of the weyr and off to deal with the rest of her own evening. By herself. She doesn't, at least, go slamming any doors. She has more self-control than that.
Teris leaves, and Tiriana huffs, and then after some moments of that, she's edging toward R'uen. "What the fuck, Rev?" she complains.
R'uen turns around, back to the table, hands now free of the glass as Tiriana approaches. "What the fuck about what?" he wonders guilelessly. "And what have you and Teris been up to?" He doesn't take his eyes of her, even as he jerks his chin in the direct in which her assistant has just departed. He's cooled down now, so the smell hanging about him is less steamy and none the better for it.
Tiriana rubs her face, shoulders lifting as she leans against the table next to him. "Nothing. I don't know. I thought we could... you know. Get the scoop on K'del, screw with him, if we could figure out what the hell he's doing. Like the Crom thing, and all that. Damage control. Except--" A hand gestures after Teris. "Nothing ever fucking works right around here. Does she really--?"
"You tell me. What exactly did you put her up to?" R'uen asks, one eyebrow lifting, softening the suspicion in his eyes. "If you want to know what he's up to, can't you ask him?" Okay, so maybe he's doubting that even as the words come out. Some solutions are far too simple. "What did you ask her to do?"
"Hell no. Like that would work," scoffs Tiriana. "He'd see that coming and he'd screw with me just to do it. He hates me. I hate him. Therefore, I need her. And--" Well. That last point makes her look a little guilty, head ducking before she shrugs again. "Whatever it took?"
"Whatever it took to find out what he's up to?" Rev lifts a hand to scratch along his scruffy jawline. "And so what has she found out?"
"Not... so much. Yet!" Tiriana is quick to add the qualifier to that. "But... something. Surely. There just hasn't been any dirt worth digging up lately, and anyway, it takes time. Not like she's very... people-y, either. Think she's about as obvious as me, and if he didn't think with his dick he'd see that."
"So, in order to get to him, she's probably sleeping with him?" R'uen steps away from the table, simultaneously peeling the wet and now chilled shirt from his skin. He takes a moment to roll his shoulders around, loosening cooled muscles. "Tell me, who brought up Milani and him, was that her or was that you?"
"Well. Not... yet?" Tiriana hazards a guess. "I don't know. She could say no, you know." Defensive, she curls her arms over her chest and scowls. "That? That was all her. I don't even want to talk about them. It's all so--so--." She doesn't even have a word, just vague growls of disapproval.
"It sounds like she meant it." He throws the shirt over his shoulder and bends forward to unlace his boots, something he probably should have done when he came in. "Just... Makes me wonder wny she told you about it. Just being honest? Was she looking for a rise?" Rhetorical questions. Straightening, he reaches for her hand and let his eyes meet Tiriana's again.
"Hell if I know," is Tiriana's retort, somewhere between waspish and pathetic. "Forget it. It doesn't matter. She'll do her job; she always does. And if she doesn't--" That can be dealt with. As can other things, such as the half-forgotten issue of R'uen's stench. "Go get a bath already, for Faranth's sake."
"Come have a soak with me." His hand is still waiting for hers, ready to tug her along. "Relax a bit while you figure out what you want to do next. Maybe inspiration will strike. Or maybe not. Come anyway." With a grin he tacks on, "I promise the smell will get better."
"Can't get worse," Tiriana notes, wrinkling her nose just a bit. Still, she's all for letting him have her hand and drag her along, thorny issues of other people's relationships forgotten for now.