A Weyrwoman Without a Dragon
Who: Carobet, Milani
What: A fifty-minute hour. Millie has a lot to think about.
Where: Mindhealer's Office, High Reaches Weyr
When: It is a spring morning, 10:30 of day 28, month 4, turn 19 of Interval 10.
It's been a while since Milani has stepped through Carobet's door, but with some distance at least from events earlier in the month now, the headwoman left discreet word with the mindhealer that she'd be able to meet today, her first real rest-day since everything went pear-shaped. So there she is, quietly moving through the infirmary, with a polite nod and a smile for the healer on duty near the front. Twinned raps at Carobet's door announce her arrival.
"Come in," Carobet calls at the sound. She's seated in an armchair, her posture rather straight, Milani's file on a table at her side. The Headwoman is likely familiar with the stately air to this room by now: dark wood and leather, armchairs, a desk, and (most of all) the classic Mindhealer's chaise, although whether Milani choses that or a proper chair is up to her.
The door is swung open and Milani peeks around it, casts Carobet a faint smile. "Hello, Carobet," she greets simply and steps on through, shuts the door behind her. Familiar too would be the headwoman kicking off her shoes and curling up on that chaise, chin propped atop her folded arms. "Some month, huh?"
Carobet smiles back. "Good morning, Milani. You could say that again." She pulls out a stylus and some paper as the Headwoman makes herself comfortable. "We have plenty to talk about today, that's for sure. But where you'd like to start is up to you. I'm curious to know, though, how you feel you are coping with everything. Well, I hope?"
Milani makes a little sympathetic face and nods about the way the month has been. She blows out a long breath hthough at that question and is quiet for a moment or two. "I guess, mostly," she finally says slowly. "I mean, I wasn't actually close to the Weyrwoman, so it's not -- well it's not as big of a thing for me as some other people. But there's ... lots of other reasons why it's been hard for me. She fidgets a little with the cuff of her shirt. "Mostly, I've been trying to you know, have a brave face, get the job done, because shells, someone has to, you know? N'thei's come all to bits, Tiriana -- well you know how she is. F'rint is good and steady at least, but ..." she trails off and purses her lips faintly. "I'm glad for my friends, definitely."
Carobet nods encouragingly as Milani talks, leaving a long silence after she's done in case she has anything else to add. "Getting the job done," she repeats. "Tell me more about that. Has it been harder than usual? Do you feel that people are expecting you do to more? Is the responsibility heavier?" A cock of her head, listening intently.
The headwoman seems lost in thought for a moment, then her gaze focuses back on Carobet and she nods slowly. "I feel like I'm filling in for /Satiet/," she says on an exhale. "Even though Lu's good at doing things."
The headwoman seems lost in thought for a moment, then her gaze focuses back on Carobet and she nods slowly. "I feel like I'm filling in for /Satiet/," she says on an exhale. "Even though Lu's good at doing things." Her fingers drum atop the chaise back restlessly and she fidgets some more, shifts in her seat. "I mean, Tiriana's trying, she is, but -- shells, some days it seems like she didn't spend the last however long learning anything from the Weyrwoman."
Carobet smiles, quipping, "Feeling like a Weyrwoman without a dragon?" She lets silence linger in the air for a moment in case Milani wants to respond to that, and then asks, "If you could change anything right now, what would be different? In terms of your position, or... recent events."
That quip draws a pained look from Milani and she lifts one hand to half-cover her face. "Um ... well, yes," she admits look faintly embarrassed by the admission. "Which feels like ... oh I don't know, it's uppity or something." Her chin drops back down to the surface of the top of the chaise and she regards Carobet for a minute. "More time. For Tiriana to be ready. For everyone to be ready." She pauses and sighs, swallows a sudden lump in her throat. "More time for A'son to have been here before it all went crazy."
Carobet has been scribbling this whole time, jotting down notes on Milani's words and nodding here and there. "You've said it yourself, you're doing her job. You have the respect of the Weyr. It sounds like you're being awfully hard on yourself." Again, she leaves a long beat, then says, "More time... well, we both know that isn't possible. But is there anything you can do that might help change things-- for instance, make Tiriana take on more of her responsibility?" And another beat. "What makes things so different with A'son now?"
Milani pokes at the leather top of the chaise for a moment. "I'm still figuring out how to get her to do the things she should, in the way that she should," the headwoman says slowly. "It's just not an easy relationship, hers and mine. But yes, it has to shift over. I mean, it's not my /place/ you know?" Troubled blue-green eyes lift up to the healer's face, linger there for a moment. Further mention of the bronzerider brings a quiet sigh. "I can't even really say that he broke up with me, because we weren't together, but he came to see me and told me he loves me but that he doesn't think we should be together right now."
Concern flickers over Carobet's eyes, and for a moment there's a clear tension between Carobet-the-friend and Catobet-the-healer; one would like to go give a hug, but the other stays solidly put. "And how does that make you feel?" she asks; the standby Mindhealer question that can be applied when all else fails.
Silence for a bit on the Milani end of things. "Hurt. Confused. A little angry. I had to let it go though, you know? To get through the last few weeks and well, I still really don't -- well I can't /focus/ on it," she says with a little exasperated sigh.
Carobet nods, scribbling down some more. She eyes the hourglass on the table beside her, which has emptied its top half some moments before. "You need to give yourself time to grieve, Milani. Delegate some of your responsibilities. Take time for yourself." She sets the file aside, and stands from her chair. "Can you try and do that, before the next time we meet? I hope we can do so, sooner than later."
"It's bad timing," Milani murmurs by way of answer and pushes upright to stand, fishes for her shoes. "I'll try. I've been staying with a friend nights, so I won't be alone," she notes. "And another brought me over cupcakes. But I'll try to take some more time to think things through. It's just when I let it all back in, I'm not sure what to think about first, you know?"
"Good, good," Carobet says to all of this. "Perhaps you should try writing your thoughts down," the healer suggests. "Sometimes the process of writing helps you sort them all out. And that way, you can revisit them again later. I'm sure you have access to paper, or even a journal?"
"I have one actually," Milani says with a little laugh, hiking the back of her shoe up higher on her heel. "Is that something you want me to share with you?" she asks though, head tilted to the side.
Carobet joins in Milani's laughter, saying, "Well then! It's up to you-- it may be helpful. Especially if you find you've captured your feelings well already, and they're difficult to put into words again. But I'll never ask you to share something you don't feel comfortable with."
Milani nods a couple of times and takes a deep breath. "I'll think about it," she says with one of those brave smiles on her face. "Thanks for your time, Carobet," as she steps for the door. "Next seven then? I should be able to meet regularly now."
Carobet smiles back reassuringly. "Definitely. Same time? I'll hold this time open for you. It was good to see you again, Millie. Take care of yourself."
Milani bobs her head once. "Yes, this should be my regular rest-day going forward, provided things don't pile up," the headwoman affirms. "You too," she tells the healer sincerely and lets herself, closing the door quietly behind her.
What: A fifty-minute hour. Millie has a lot to think about.
Where: Mindhealer's Office, High Reaches Weyr
When: It is a spring morning, 10:30 of day 28, month 4, turn 19 of Interval 10.
It's been a while since Milani has stepped through Carobet's door, but with some distance at least from events earlier in the month now, the headwoman left discreet word with the mindhealer that she'd be able to meet today, her first real rest-day since everything went pear-shaped. So there she is, quietly moving through the infirmary, with a polite nod and a smile for the healer on duty near the front. Twinned raps at Carobet's door announce her arrival.
"Come in," Carobet calls at the sound. She's seated in an armchair, her posture rather straight, Milani's file on a table at her side. The Headwoman is likely familiar with the stately air to this room by now: dark wood and leather, armchairs, a desk, and (most of all) the classic Mindhealer's chaise, although whether Milani choses that or a proper chair is up to her.
The door is swung open and Milani peeks around it, casts Carobet a faint smile. "Hello, Carobet," she greets simply and steps on through, shuts the door behind her. Familiar too would be the headwoman kicking off her shoes and curling up on that chaise, chin propped atop her folded arms. "Some month, huh?"
Carobet smiles back. "Good morning, Milani. You could say that again." She pulls out a stylus and some paper as the Headwoman makes herself comfortable. "We have plenty to talk about today, that's for sure. But where you'd like to start is up to you. I'm curious to know, though, how you feel you are coping with everything. Well, I hope?"
Milani makes a little sympathetic face and nods about the way the month has been. She blows out a long breath hthough at that question and is quiet for a moment or two. "I guess, mostly," she finally says slowly. "I mean, I wasn't actually close to the Weyrwoman, so it's not -- well it's not as big of a thing for me as some other people. But there's ... lots of other reasons why it's been hard for me. She fidgets a little with the cuff of her shirt. "Mostly, I've been trying to you know, have a brave face, get the job done, because shells, someone has to, you know? N'thei's come all to bits, Tiriana -- well you know how she is. F'rint is good and steady at least, but ..." she trails off and purses her lips faintly. "I'm glad for my friends, definitely."
Carobet nods encouragingly as Milani talks, leaving a long silence after she's done in case she has anything else to add. "Getting the job done," she repeats. "Tell me more about that. Has it been harder than usual? Do you feel that people are expecting you do to more? Is the responsibility heavier?" A cock of her head, listening intently.
The headwoman seems lost in thought for a moment, then her gaze focuses back on Carobet and she nods slowly. "I feel like I'm filling in for /Satiet/," she says on an exhale. "Even though Lu's good at doing things."
The headwoman seems lost in thought for a moment, then her gaze focuses back on Carobet and she nods slowly. "I feel like I'm filling in for /Satiet/," she says on an exhale. "Even though Lu's good at doing things." Her fingers drum atop the chaise back restlessly and she fidgets some more, shifts in her seat. "I mean, Tiriana's trying, she is, but -- shells, some days it seems like she didn't spend the last however long learning anything from the Weyrwoman."
Carobet smiles, quipping, "Feeling like a Weyrwoman without a dragon?" She lets silence linger in the air for a moment in case Milani wants to respond to that, and then asks, "If you could change anything right now, what would be different? In terms of your position, or... recent events."
That quip draws a pained look from Milani and she lifts one hand to half-cover her face. "Um ... well, yes," she admits look faintly embarrassed by the admission. "Which feels like ... oh I don't know, it's uppity or something." Her chin drops back down to the surface of the top of the chaise and she regards Carobet for a minute. "More time. For Tiriana to be ready. For everyone to be ready." She pauses and sighs, swallows a sudden lump in her throat. "More time for A'son to have been here before it all went crazy."
Carobet has been scribbling this whole time, jotting down notes on Milani's words and nodding here and there. "You've said it yourself, you're doing her job. You have the respect of the Weyr. It sounds like you're being awfully hard on yourself." Again, she leaves a long beat, then says, "More time... well, we both know that isn't possible. But is there anything you can do that might help change things-- for instance, make Tiriana take on more of her responsibility?" And another beat. "What makes things so different with A'son now?"
Milani pokes at the leather top of the chaise for a moment. "I'm still figuring out how to get her to do the things she should, in the way that she should," the headwoman says slowly. "It's just not an easy relationship, hers and mine. But yes, it has to shift over. I mean, it's not my /place/ you know?" Troubled blue-green eyes lift up to the healer's face, linger there for a moment. Further mention of the bronzerider brings a quiet sigh. "I can't even really say that he broke up with me, because we weren't together, but he came to see me and told me he loves me but that he doesn't think we should be together right now."
Concern flickers over Carobet's eyes, and for a moment there's a clear tension between Carobet-the-friend and Catobet-the-healer; one would like to go give a hug, but the other stays solidly put. "And how does that make you feel?" she asks; the standby Mindhealer question that can be applied when all else fails.
Silence for a bit on the Milani end of things. "Hurt. Confused. A little angry. I had to let it go though, you know? To get through the last few weeks and well, I still really don't -- well I can't /focus/ on it," she says with a little exasperated sigh.
Carobet nods, scribbling down some more. She eyes the hourglass on the table beside her, which has emptied its top half some moments before. "You need to give yourself time to grieve, Milani. Delegate some of your responsibilities. Take time for yourself." She sets the file aside, and stands from her chair. "Can you try and do that, before the next time we meet? I hope we can do so, sooner than later."
"It's bad timing," Milani murmurs by way of answer and pushes upright to stand, fishes for her shoes. "I'll try. I've been staying with a friend nights, so I won't be alone," she notes. "And another brought me over cupcakes. But I'll try to take some more time to think things through. It's just when I let it all back in, I'm not sure what to think about first, you know?"
"Good, good," Carobet says to all of this. "Perhaps you should try writing your thoughts down," the healer suggests. "Sometimes the process of writing helps you sort them all out. And that way, you can revisit them again later. I'm sure you have access to paper, or even a journal?"
"I have one actually," Milani says with a little laugh, hiking the back of her shoe up higher on her heel. "Is that something you want me to share with you?" she asks though, head tilted to the side.
Carobet joins in Milani's laughter, saying, "Well then! It's up to you-- it may be helpful. Especially if you find you've captured your feelings well already, and they're difficult to put into words again. But I'll never ask you to share something you don't feel comfortable with."
Milani nods a couple of times and takes a deep breath. "I'll think about it," she says with one of those brave smiles on her face. "Thanks for your time, Carobet," as she steps for the door. "Next seven then? I should be able to meet regularly now."
Carobet smiles back reassuringly. "Definitely. Same time? I'll hold this time open for you. It was good to see you again, Millie. Take care of yourself."
Milani bobs her head once. "Yes, this should be my regular rest-day going forward, provided things don't pile up," the headwoman affirms. "You too," she tells the healer sincerely and lets herself, closing the door quietly behind her.