Life is Seldom Fair
IC Date: Day 12, Month 10, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Players: Kale, R'hal, Vanya
Location: Baths
Synopsis: After a day of going through more of the storage caverns, Vanya heads into the baths where she meets Kale, a young cook, and then R'hal comes in. They discuss all kinds of things, including speculation on why the queens haven't risen.
Baths,
Afternoon
The bathing cavern is divided into a number of large pools, each spacious enough for ten to fifteen people. There is one cold-water pool with the remainder being given over to water warm enough to fill the air with swirling clouds of steam. Each pool has been tiled in blue and white and boasts benches along the sides to allow people to sit and soak. Alcoves in the walls have been hollowed out to provide places to store clean, dry towels and various other bathing paraphernalia.
The corners of the room have been decorated with potted ferns, brought here from Ista Island. They are pampered and fussed over by the staff who keep the baths clean and stocked. The plants provide a cheerful splash of color in an otherwise pale and steamy cavern.
It's the middle of the day and while the bathing caverns are quite empty there is one person here and he is White... that's literally what Kale is. Covered in flour, Kale seems ready to be baked. "Yeesh." The young man says before he moves to the edge of the water. He cups water in his hands and splashes his face. It makes him look that quite worse.
Mid-day or not, Vanya has been rummaging about in the storage caverns, continuing her work with the Acting Senior Weyrwoman on the inventorying of supplies. So, she's a bit "white," as well, only it's dust in her case. She moves into the baths, clean clothes over her arm, and a basket in her hand with small bottles of various colored liquids. Used to the co-ed facilities now, she no longer even seems bothered getting undressed and into the water. "Afternoon," she remarks to the young man there, towel wrapped around her torso as she steps down into the soothing hot water. "You look like you got caught in a flour explosion. Everything all right in the kitchen?"
A soft laugh comes from Kale's throat as he finishes undressing and he flaps the clothing out before he slides down into the water. "Yeah, had to flour and entire wherry. That was not fun." He grumbles softly before he dips down into the water and he splashes some more water into his face. "And you?"
"Inventorying the storage caverns," she replies, grinning at the young man. "I'm Vanya, by the way," she adds by way of introduction. "Assistant to Weyrwoman Sinopa, though I'm also a Journeyman Healer." She ducks into the water after removing the towel, moving to the side and setting down her basket. "I assume you're a cook, then? Do you know Essdara?" she inquires, selecting a small bottle filled with a creamy, pinkish colored liquid that smells a bit floral when she opens it. Her hair is quickly unbraided, falling around her shoulders almost to the middle of her back.
"I know Essdara." Kale's cheeks are a soft red as he replies to the young woman, his eyes above her form. It gives him a sort of dreamy expression. "I'm Kale, and ah.. well you might know my father. He's a Healer as well. The stuffy one." He eyerolls, before wriggling his nose slightly. "Floral scent. I can't just make it out what kind."
"Oh, well, there are severl stuffy healers around," Vanya says, smiling as she moves into deeper water and dunks her head to wet her hair. "This? It's a blend of several ingredients, actually," she tells the young man. "I'm an herbalist, and I make up several kinds of lotions using herbs and flowers. This one has a lavender scent, mostly, but there're a few other things in it, as well." She works the shampoo into a thick lather, scrubbing at her scalp. "I also have some with mint as a base, which really makes the scalp tingle." She works at her hair, humming softly. "I haven't seen Dara in a few days. I take it everyone's getting things ready for the Star Social?"
"I guess. I haven't seen her for a few days either. I have been busy." Kale says before he nods, hming. "There are four different scents in it." He chuckles before he rubs his nose slightly. "And still the scent of flour and dust in the air, which makes it harder to pick out." He shurgs. "I'm not, don't have anyone to go with."
Vanya nods. "Neither do I, but I'll probably still go," she says. "Always fun to watch the dancing and enjoy the food and drinks. I actually meant folks in the kitchen were probably already working on the food," she explains. "Dara'll be around. I'm sure she's got something delicious planned for the social. She usually does. I just hope she gets dragged out of the kitchen to attend. She needs a bit of fun, now and then."
"I know that I'll be cooking at least for a bit." Kale offers. "Dara's a good cook, like I am. She's got a good nose for it." He laughs softly before he hms. "Is there anything over there I can use? I think I forgot to bring anything." He murmurs sheepishly. "I'll pay for it, or cook you something good."
Vanya pauses in washing her hair. "Well, there's a bar of lanolin soap in the basket, if you'd like," she offers. "Most men don't care for the flora scent of the shampoo, but you're welcome to use some, if you like." She grins at the offer of payment. "No, don't worry about it, Kale. All that stuff is easy to make, and the ingredients aren't expensive. Help yourself. It's a lot nicer than sweetsand." She ducks underwater to rinse her hair, and then moves over to the basket for a handful of the same liquid, starting a second wash. "However, I do admit a partiality to that fruit cobbler they served last night at dinner. If you ever go to make more of it, well, I wouldn't mind a second helping." There's a grin on her face as she makes that suggestion.
"If you need some help, let me know." Kale almost squeeks as that comes out, but he steadies on and reaches into the basket and takes the soap before he inhales the scent. "Smells good, here lets do my hair first." He reaches up and undoes his own runner tail, the mop of wavy curls bounces around his head. He reaches out for the shampoo and he dunks himself into the water. Scrubbing his head slowly he grins. "I made it last night."
"Well, it was delicious, Kale," Vanya assures him, rinsing a second time. "The soap's good for your skin, but it's harder to make than the liquids. It needs time to set, and getting the right consistency is difficult." She picks up another bottle, opening it. This one smells more like mint, but with just a touch of citrus to it. "I use this to condition my hair after washing. Feel free to try it and let me know what you think. It's something new I'm trying." She proceeds to work this oilier mixture into her hair, running her fingers through it to get it all through the thick strands. "You know, the odd thing is, I can make all kinds of these things, but I'm hopeless in a kitchen. They banned me from the kitchen in Healer Hall when I was an apprentice." This makes her laugh as she dunks her head.
A soft laugh comes to Kale's throat. "My father would of wished you into my form then. He wanted a healer's son. Not a cook." He turns back towards Vanya and smiles at her before he wriggles his nose slightly. "Wait." He moves over to her side, blushing a bit more deeply now. "Try this." He opens another one of the flora scents, a softer more sublte one. "Add some of this." He grins. "Trust me." He is standing up fully now, the water covering him still, but his height is un-mistakable. "You'll smell so good men will try to eat your hair."
Vanya looks at the young man, but allows him to do what it is he's wanting to without question. Vanya's a tall girl, but she still has to look up at Kale. "My, you're a lot taller than I thought," she says, smiling at the cook. "That must come in handy for reaching those higher shelves. Lucky you. I have to use a step-stool even though I'm taller than many folks." She sniffs, and tilts her head to the side. "That is interesting. No wonder you're a good cook, if you have that acute a sense of smell." But, it's the remark about his father that seems to fade her smile a bit. "Yes, well, my father was a healer, and my mother wanted one of her children to follow in his footsteps. My older brother went to Weaver Hall, so it got left up to me. I wanted to be a harper, but ..." She shrugs. "I found my niche, so it was all good."
A soft blush comes to the young man's cheeks as he looks down at Vanya and he grins at her. "Oh, well thanks." He blushes before he nods at her. "Well, can you sing?" He asks the young woman as he begins to soap up his own body. "If you sing for me, I'll scrub your back." He grins, "It's a fair trade."
"Not very well," Vanya admits, smiling and reaching for a cloth in her basket. "And, that's all right, about scrubbing my back. I don't really have time to indulge in such pleasures right now. I'm due at a meeting with Sinopa shortly, and I don't dare be too late. But, I'll take you up on it another time, certainly." The smile she offers is friendly enough, but not overly so. She's been the source of enough gossip lately, after all. No need to give the rumor mill more material. "Pass the soap when you're finished, please?"
"Of course." Kale offers as he tosses the soap towards Vanya in an underhanded sort of a pitch. "Perhaps. May not be in the mood for song." A wink comes. "You didn't think I'd just soap your back for free did you? Got enough work to do." A soft laugh comes to his face to show that he's not chiding. "Riders.. always demanding. I understand they protect us, but." He sighs and shrugs. "Could be more forgiving."
"Oh, Sinopa is /very/ easy to work with, actually," Vanya is quick to say after catching the soap. She lathers the cloth and begins scrubbing her arms and neck, sinking into the water to one of the ledges along the side. "She and I have been slowly but surely working our way through the inventories, making sure the ledgers and lists all match. It's just a big job, and has been ignored for a while now. But, we're almost done, thankfully. Then we get to find out what else was ignored and tackle that." The girl continues to wash, silent for a few. "I have an adequate voice, but mostly I just sing for my own entertainment. Without training, it doesn't sound like much."
"Don't doubt yourself." Kale says, scrubbing some more before he drops down into the water and he sighs once again. "Ah well." He murmurs gently before he looks over at Vanya once again, grinning at her. "Because you don't know until you try in public." He offers, chuckling once more.
"Oh, I know well enough I don't sound nearly as good singing as trained harpers," Vanya assures the young man in the pool with her. She's sitting down on one of the underwater ledges, mostly covered by hot, steaming water, her hair wet after being washed. At the moment, they're both scrubbing away, apparently discussing singing or harpers or something of the like. The baths are pretty steamy, but there's the faint aroma of lavender and some other scent in the air that seems to come from the pool where the two people bathe. "So, as a singer, I make a good healer, to coin a phrase. Did you always want to be a cook?"
"As a cook, I make a good cook. It's really all that I've wanted to do. I could of done Weaving, but that's not really manly." He chuckles to himself before he pours water on his face. "So yes, I would say that I always did."
R'hal walks briskly in, escaping the wind outside, but slows as soon as he enters the warmth of the baths. He's dressed in flying gear, but carrying a bundle of other clothes to change into as well as the usual bathing paraphernalia. He offers a matter of fact "Evening!" to the people in the nearest pool, then snags up a towel from the communal supply and finds a free, dry spot to leave his clothes and starts undressing.
Vanya peers through the misty steam, and offers a polite, "Evening, sir," to the rider who enters. It's hard to tell who it is with the heavy haze, but the voice sounds familiar. "Still windy and cold outside?" she asks the man, a faintly sour note in her voice at the thought of cold weather. "I swear, if it gets much colder, I'm going to sleep over in the hatching sands where it's warm."
"Hello." Kale waves his hand through the steam towards the person that enters and he sinks down up to his chin into the water. He sighs softly as the heat soaks into his body. "Probably is. I can't stand going outside. I'm so used to the heat of the kitchens."
R'hal replies over his shoulder as he removes the last of his clothing. "I'm afraid it does, journeyman. And yes, it's still windy." He's not apparently embarrassed about stripping off, and he's soon immersed in hot water. "Who's that? Kale, isn't it?" He peers through the steam. "What's for dinner tonight, d'you know?"
"R'hal?" Her voice is a question, but the vague shape of the man is enough to confirm the identity. "Ah, please, it's just Vanya, all right? I don't stand on formality, unless you prefer me to call you Wingsecond instead of your name all the time." She gives a soft laugh after speaking, rinsing off the lather and sliding down until she's neck deep in the water. "My duty to your Yanith, sir," she adds.
"Floured Wherry strips." Kale offers, looking balefully towards the area of his clothing. "They should be pretty good." He offers, shrugging a bit as Vanya answers his own question. "Duties to yours." He offers, splooshing back into the water once again.
R'hal chuckles as he tells Vanya, "In that case, leave out the 'sir,' too." He bends his knees to the point where he's covered up to his neck, and stretches his arms out under the water so that they just break the surface. "Warmth. That's good. How are you both, anyway?"
"I'm fine, you?" Kale asks as he gets up out of the bath to begin drying himself off. "I certainly hope you like the food tongiht. IT was hard enough to cook." He grumbles softly. "Doing all of that. I looked like a floured wherry."
"Warm, yes," Vanya agrees, answering R'hal's question. "All right, no 'sir,' then," she adds, nodding as she leans back and rests her head on the rim of the pool, closing her eyes. "I assume everything's going well then. No riders complaining of any unusual back pains or the like? Cold weather can bring on joint distress quickly," she warns. "If you hear of anything, do let the healers know. Or, encourage your riders to soak in here as much as possible. That should ease any problems." She sighs. "Shards, I can't wait until this leave is over. I just hate not being able to do anything." Her voice is grumbly and sour. "I'm as bad as some of the injured riders. I want to be back there working /now/."
R'hal sounds curious as he glances towards Kale. "Floured? Do you flour them before or after you cook them? It sounds filling, anyway - just the thing for a cold night." He smiles towards the healer. "Oh, we're dreadful patients, I'm sure. If we can't fly, most of us don't know what to do with ourselves."
"Flour before cooking, and then you cook them and then well yeah.. They're filling. They're annoying." Kale grumbles a bit more before he shrugs and looks at Vanya before he shrugs. "It's not my choice, Vanya. I told you that my father was one of the stuffy ones. No way he's going to speak for anyone 'cept himself."
"Tell me about it," Vanya says, nodding toward R'hal's assessment. "I threatened to use a whip on some of them to make them rest until they were ready to fly again," she adds. "They didn't seem to realize they have to heal /all/ the way before it's safe to fly again. Though I like helping Sinopa, I want to be back doing what I came here to do." She quiets for a moment, letting Kale discuss cooking for a bit while she soaks away the cold. "It's all right, Kale," she tells the young man. "I don't expect anyone to speak up for me, though several folks have offered. The three months will be over soon enough."
R'hal frowns, puzzled, at Kale. "Your father?" He stands and reaches to the edge of the pool for soapsand, but waits before starting to lather himself, instead glancing towards Vanya again. "So how long have you got to go?" The sand is moistened and he starts to rub at his arms.
"He's a journeyman healer." Kale says, shruging as he moves to beat out his clothing. "That's why I mentioned that he wouldn't speak on Vanya's behalf." He offers, shaking his pants out some more before sliding them on.
"About two months or so," Vanya replies, sighing softly. "I'm filling the time constructively, at least. I've been studying dragon healing with R'zel, and the help of a few books and hides I checked out of the records room. It's been interesting, at least, and there are enough similarities in muscular and skeletal structure that I think I understand it well enough." She is quiet again, then adds, "As well as helping Sinopa, of course. She is rather concerned about how things have slipped to the wayside in the weyr, and is doing her best to get things set to rights. It's not been easy."
"Yes, well," R'hal says dryly. "We've had rather a lot of distractions. It'll be good to see things getting back to normal, that's for sure." He ducks his head beneath the water and then starts soaping his hair.
Kale smiles a bit as he looks towards the others. "Well, I hope that you can get back as soon as possible, Vanya." The young man says as he pulls his shirt over his head. "But for now, I'll see you around." He waves to R'hal as well. "Take care."
"Take care, Kale," Vanya calls, lifting a hand and lazily waving it in the cook's direction. "Give Dara my best when you see her, please? And I'll look forward to dinner. Nice to have met you." Once this has been said, she turns her attention to R'hal. "Distractions? I'd say murder and people getting hurt more than simple distractions, but that's just me. Sinopa's doing her best to get things back on track, but without either of the queens rising, there's not a lot she can do but strive for normalcy. It's just not right, the golds not rising. She's pretty worried about it, but not for the reasons everyone seems to think."
"Clear skies," R'hal calls after the departing cook, then turns his attention to the healer, frowning. "Why, then? I mean, everyone knows they ought to be rising frequently at this stage in the Pass. Having large clutches, too. We need those dragons. I'd expect her to be worried about it. Shells, /I'm/ worried about it."
"Well, near as I can figure, something inhibiting the queens from rising," Vanya remarks. "Sinopa and I have been going over records, and this isn't normal behavior. All the queens should have been rising regularly since before the Pass began. Older records from the last pass indicates this was routine until the later part of the Pass when they began to taper off." Her own expression is concerned. "We've toyed with several theories, including the presence of other queens, not High Reaches' queens here. Golds who have left High Reaches rise within a month or so. It's /got/ to be the fact there are just too many queens in the same place at the same time."
"/What?/" R'hal is clearly astonished, and lets his hand drop back into the water with a splash. "So, they're regulating themselves like we're told they can do when a Weyr is over-full? Only, it's not, and you're thinking it's because of the Caucus golds who don't belong to us at all? How many does it take?"
Vanya shakes her head. "That's only one theory, R'hal," she says quietly. "And a theory from someone who isn't a dragon healer, either. Just speculation based on human physiology. I mean, whenever you have a large number of women in one place, their cycles tend to ... well, correlate for some reason. No one's ever been able to quite explain it medically. There /shouldn't/ be a reason for it, but it happens all the time." She shrugs. "I don't know how many queens a weyr is supposed to have, but look at it this way. All the golds in the caucus were born someplace else, and they're of different ages. And, we have an older queen here, Lexine's Vasyath. What if they're all adjusting to /her/ cycle? -- which is slower now, because she's older?" Another shrug. "I can't find much in the books that deals with mating flights, other than they're supposed to be happening more often than they are."
"Women....correlate?" That seems to be a new one on R'hal. "Do they all kind of slip into line with each other, or do they all follow one, though? I mean, why would they follow one rather than another, if so? With more younger ones, wouldn't there be more chance they'd follow one of those, if it were like that?"
"I don't know," Vanya says, shrugging. "Like I said, no one's been able to medically explain it, but it happens, especially when they're in very close proximity. If I knew more about dragons, well, I'd be able to explain it better, but I'm just scratching the surface of what I suspect is a very deep subject." She takes a breath, letting it out slowly. "And, that's only one possibility. There are other factors to look at, too. We all know Citalth has risen before, mated and produced a clutch. So, obviously, have some of the other queens, only they do so at their home weyrs. Tialith is unproven, at this point, but I've no reason to believe she's not capable of rising. She may just be too young, still."
"Well, what is she? Three Turns? That's possible. Cause for doubt if she leaves it much longer, maybe..." R'hal sounds uncertain. He's standing with soap in his hair, the lather making the hair stand up in small spikes. "Let's hope it's soon." He ducks his head to rinse it.
"Yes, lets hope one of the two queens rises soon. The weyr is losing riders to 'fall, and there's not really any coming up to take their place. I wish I knew more about dragon physiology, but I don't. I only know something has to happen and soon, or the weyr's going to be hurting. There's this group of weyrlings, and then no others, and no eggs on the sands. It's a cause for concern, all right." She pauses, shifting a little in the water. "And then there's the wonder of which bronze will fly whichever queen rises. That's an even bigger debate in the lower caverns these days."
"Well, yes. That's a matter of interest to the riders, too - even if we don't ride bronzes. Whoever wins the Senior flight is Weyrleader, and someone in that post who doesn't know what he's about..." R'hal shakes his head. "But, I don't suppose it'll come to that."
"Indeed. It's a matter of concern for everyone, R'hal," Vanya says simply. "I think most of the bronze riders here are capable of doing the job, with maybe one exception -- and that's only because he's so young. D'ven, R'vain are both older, capable riders. Of the the rest -- well, I don't know them all that well, so I don't know what to say." She pauses, then looks over at the brownrider. "Who would you like to see as the Weyrleaders? I'm sure you have an opinion, and you know the riders a lot better than I do."
R'hal chuckles a little but refuses to be drawn. "Well now, I think I'll leave that one to the dragons to decide. Though, someone who still wants me as his second would be nice. As you say, there are several who could do a good job." He continues washing, getting on with the job a little more briskly now.
Vanya nods, then sits up. "Well, I can't blame you for not wanting to speculate, but I'm torn. I like Sinopa, and I think she could be a good weyrwoman. I know a few of the bronzeriders, but my choice would have been -- wouldn't have been suitable, I guess." She scoots forward now, then stands up, reaching for her towel. "I should really get going. I was supposed to meet with Sinopa over dinner, and I'm probably late. Not that we set a specific time, but I don't like to keep people waiting." She steps onto the ledge, wrapping the towel around her torso, then makes her way to the steps. "I'd imagine anyone who would turn experience away for popularity wouldn't make a good 'leader. They'd be foolish to not want you as a 'second, especially since you appear to be good at what you do. I'm surprised you weren't offered a wing of your own, considering that Br'ce was given one, and he rides brown."
R'hal shrugs. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. 1A is the Weyrleader's wing. When we fly Fall, the Weyrleader doesn't usually lead the wing - that's left up to his 'second, most of the time. So, they tend to want a good one. I suppose I should be flattered." He doesn't actually sound terribly flattered.
Vanya slips from the pool, gathering up her basket and moving over to the benches. She collects a second towel and wraps it turban style around her wet hair, then begins drying off. "I didn't know that," she admits. "I thought the weyrleader would lead his own wing, but I guess it makes sense. You're still the wingsecond, though, right? Even if J'cor's Karth can't fly anymore? They haven't taken you from the position, so you must be doing something right." She sits down on the bench, drying her legs with another towel.
R'hal nods, but doesn't speak until he's climbed out of the pool himself and wrapped himself decently in a towel. "That's right. I was wingsecond under G'thon, and then they brought Ch'dais in as Flight Leader when G'thon lost his dragon, and when J'cor took over he kept Ch'dais in the wing as junior 'second - except of course he's now Flight Leader /again/, with Karth out of action." Just a hint of annoyance there, maybe?
Vanya looks up and regards the rider with a knitted brow. "Instead of leaving you in the position?" she asks, her tone curious. "I'm a little surprised. It would be more logical to use the rider who has the more experience. Well, at least in my opinion, and admittedly, I don't know all that much about how things work with the wings." She carefully averts her eyes as R'hal leaves the water, not looking his way again until she's certain he's wearing a towel. "I'd have thought J'cor would have wanted the most experienced 'second to assist him, especially since he's not from here. Or, does it always have to be a bronzerider leading the weyrleader's wing?"
R'hal purses his lips before answering. "Well, normally it would be the Weyrleader. If a Weyrleader's out of action for a bit, because of an injury, say, then usually his second would step up, and the junior second would lead the wing in Fall - or another bronze or brownrider if there's only the one second. But with G'thon, it wasn't exactly a short temporary absence, was it? He wasn't coming back. So..." Another one of those tense, not entirely dismissive shrugs. "They wouldn't want a brownrider leading Falls for that length of time, I guess. And the same applies now. It's not a problem."
There is still a hint of concern on Vanya's forehead as she absorbs the information. "I see," she finally says, but she doesn't seem satisfied with that explanation. "So you've been wingsecond for that long," she adds, apparently considering something. "Seems to me you've had ample time to prove yourself." A shrug. "But, then, I have to ask why they wouldn't want a brownrider leading the wing --" She stops. Then, "Oh. Well, yes, there's a difference between other wings and the weyrleader's wing. Still, I'd have thought they'd have offered you your own wing by now." She shrugs. "Life is seldom fair in these things, I guess."
R'hal lifts a hand and makes that palm-down jiggling motion that suggests some doubt in the matter. "Well..., I suppose it's not that clear cut. Some people would say it's more of an honour to be the Weyrleader's second, so..." He towels his hair vigorously. From under the thick cloth come the words, "I could do without the politics, sometimes."
"Couldn't we all?" Vanya echoes that sentiment. "I grew up watching politics in the hold, and I detest them," she follows. "Still, they rear their ugly head, and you can't always avoid them, no matter how hard you try. A leadership should be based on ability, not popularity, but that's just my opinion." And then she stands, carefully dropping a clean under-chemise over her head. "I'd better be careful. Talk like that's sent more than one innocent person into exile."
R'hal lowers the towel from his hair and stands looking thoughtful, his forehead wrinkling. He says carefully, "That's perhaps easier to see from where you are, in the crafts, where advancement's got more to do with ability - at least in theory. For dragonriders, the dragons have their own built in hierarchy, and it's hard to get round that. That's why it's hard for good brownriders to become wingleaders - especially of the wings with mostly larger dragons. We make the assumption that bronzes do choose the most able people, of course. For a brownrider to dispute that - well, it would sound a bit like sour grapes, wouldn't it?"
There's a moment when it looks like Vanya would say something, but she hesitates a moment before saying, "You're right, of course, but it's not always ability in the crafts, either. There are good healers, for example, who for whatever reason will never be masters." She sighs. "There's no perfect system, R'hal. No perfect way of decision making. I'd like to see master someday, but I doubt I will." There's another moment of silence, then, "At least as a dragonrider, you have a respect that many of us will never see, and that's for one main reason -- you're a man."
R'hal can't really argue with that. He nods. "It's not perfect, no. Though, I think we men probably have the best of it in most walks of life; not just in the Weyr. And that's not got much to do with ability. Some of the women with greens are sharding fine riders, and they must have something going for them that a lot of men don't have, or they wouldn't have impressed. But they're still never going to hold rank."
"That's certainly true," Vanya agrees. "And, it's sad, in a way. There are female masters, certainly, but in those crafts which are traditionally meant for women, or considered 'women's work'. Like healing, weaving. You probably will never see a woman be master of the mining craft or something like that." She slips her dress over her head, adjusting it. "And, I don't suspect things will change any time soon. Not without more people being called Instigators for even thinking of such heresy."
R'hal shrugs. "I'm not sure why a woman would want to go in for mining, really, but...." Not such a liberated male after all, it seems. He runs a hand through his hair, then starts rubbing the rest of himself dry.
Now dressed except for shoes and stockings, Vanya sits there and reflects a moment. "I'm not certain, either, but she should be allowed to, if she wants to. That's my only thought on that. No one should be held back because of their gender, only their lack of ability." She sets about putting on her stockings, then her shoes. Once she's completely dressed, she rolls her soiled clothes up and puts them in her basket. "I hope someday you get a wing, R'hal. Everyone deserves a chance to do what they want to in life. I'd like to see that happen for you." She offers the rider a smile, picking up the basket. "I'm going to go try to find a warm place and get dinner. See you later, perhaps."
It takes a moment for R'hal to work out how to react to that. "Well, that's nice of you, but I'm doing all right in the meantime. Clear skies, Vanya." He waits for the healer to move away before continuing to dry himself.
"Clear skies, R'hal. My best to Yanith," Vanya calls over her shoulder, then disappears out into the lower caverns.
Players: Kale, R'hal, Vanya
Location: Baths
Synopsis: After a day of going through more of the storage caverns, Vanya heads into the baths where she meets Kale, a young cook, and then R'hal comes in. They discuss all kinds of things, including speculation on why the queens haven't risen.
Baths,
Afternoon
The bathing cavern is divided into a number of large pools, each spacious enough for ten to fifteen people. There is one cold-water pool with the remainder being given over to water warm enough to fill the air with swirling clouds of steam. Each pool has been tiled in blue and white and boasts benches along the sides to allow people to sit and soak. Alcoves in the walls have been hollowed out to provide places to store clean, dry towels and various other bathing paraphernalia.
The corners of the room have been decorated with potted ferns, brought here from Ista Island. They are pampered and fussed over by the staff who keep the baths clean and stocked. The plants provide a cheerful splash of color in an otherwise pale and steamy cavern.
It's the middle of the day and while the bathing caverns are quite empty there is one person here and he is White... that's literally what Kale is. Covered in flour, Kale seems ready to be baked. "Yeesh." The young man says before he moves to the edge of the water. He cups water in his hands and splashes his face. It makes him look that quite worse.
Mid-day or not, Vanya has been rummaging about in the storage caverns, continuing her work with the Acting Senior Weyrwoman on the inventorying of supplies. So, she's a bit "white," as well, only it's dust in her case. She moves into the baths, clean clothes over her arm, and a basket in her hand with small bottles of various colored liquids. Used to the co-ed facilities now, she no longer even seems bothered getting undressed and into the water. "Afternoon," she remarks to the young man there, towel wrapped around her torso as she steps down into the soothing hot water. "You look like you got caught in a flour explosion. Everything all right in the kitchen?"
A soft laugh comes from Kale's throat as he finishes undressing and he flaps the clothing out before he slides down into the water. "Yeah, had to flour and entire wherry. That was not fun." He grumbles softly before he dips down into the water and he splashes some more water into his face. "And you?"
"Inventorying the storage caverns," she replies, grinning at the young man. "I'm Vanya, by the way," she adds by way of introduction. "Assistant to Weyrwoman Sinopa, though I'm also a Journeyman Healer." She ducks into the water after removing the towel, moving to the side and setting down her basket. "I assume you're a cook, then? Do you know Essdara?" she inquires, selecting a small bottle filled with a creamy, pinkish colored liquid that smells a bit floral when she opens it. Her hair is quickly unbraided, falling around her shoulders almost to the middle of her back.
"I know Essdara." Kale's cheeks are a soft red as he replies to the young woman, his eyes above her form. It gives him a sort of dreamy expression. "I'm Kale, and ah.. well you might know my father. He's a Healer as well. The stuffy one." He eyerolls, before wriggling his nose slightly. "Floral scent. I can't just make it out what kind."
"Oh, well, there are severl stuffy healers around," Vanya says, smiling as she moves into deeper water and dunks her head to wet her hair. "This? It's a blend of several ingredients, actually," she tells the young man. "I'm an herbalist, and I make up several kinds of lotions using herbs and flowers. This one has a lavender scent, mostly, but there're a few other things in it, as well." She works the shampoo into a thick lather, scrubbing at her scalp. "I also have some with mint as a base, which really makes the scalp tingle." She works at her hair, humming softly. "I haven't seen Dara in a few days. I take it everyone's getting things ready for the Star Social?"
"I guess. I haven't seen her for a few days either. I have been busy." Kale says before he nods, hming. "There are four different scents in it." He chuckles before he rubs his nose slightly. "And still the scent of flour and dust in the air, which makes it harder to pick out." He shurgs. "I'm not, don't have anyone to go with."
Vanya nods. "Neither do I, but I'll probably still go," she says. "Always fun to watch the dancing and enjoy the food and drinks. I actually meant folks in the kitchen were probably already working on the food," she explains. "Dara'll be around. I'm sure she's got something delicious planned for the social. She usually does. I just hope she gets dragged out of the kitchen to attend. She needs a bit of fun, now and then."
"I know that I'll be cooking at least for a bit." Kale offers. "Dara's a good cook, like I am. She's got a good nose for it." He laughs softly before he hms. "Is there anything over there I can use? I think I forgot to bring anything." He murmurs sheepishly. "I'll pay for it, or cook you something good."
Vanya pauses in washing her hair. "Well, there's a bar of lanolin soap in the basket, if you'd like," she offers. "Most men don't care for the flora scent of the shampoo, but you're welcome to use some, if you like." She grins at the offer of payment. "No, don't worry about it, Kale. All that stuff is easy to make, and the ingredients aren't expensive. Help yourself. It's a lot nicer than sweetsand." She ducks underwater to rinse her hair, and then moves over to the basket for a handful of the same liquid, starting a second wash. "However, I do admit a partiality to that fruit cobbler they served last night at dinner. If you ever go to make more of it, well, I wouldn't mind a second helping." There's a grin on her face as she makes that suggestion.
"If you need some help, let me know." Kale almost squeeks as that comes out, but he steadies on and reaches into the basket and takes the soap before he inhales the scent. "Smells good, here lets do my hair first." He reaches up and undoes his own runner tail, the mop of wavy curls bounces around his head. He reaches out for the shampoo and he dunks himself into the water. Scrubbing his head slowly he grins. "I made it last night."
"Well, it was delicious, Kale," Vanya assures him, rinsing a second time. "The soap's good for your skin, but it's harder to make than the liquids. It needs time to set, and getting the right consistency is difficult." She picks up another bottle, opening it. This one smells more like mint, but with just a touch of citrus to it. "I use this to condition my hair after washing. Feel free to try it and let me know what you think. It's something new I'm trying." She proceeds to work this oilier mixture into her hair, running her fingers through it to get it all through the thick strands. "You know, the odd thing is, I can make all kinds of these things, but I'm hopeless in a kitchen. They banned me from the kitchen in Healer Hall when I was an apprentice." This makes her laugh as she dunks her head.
A soft laugh comes to Kale's throat. "My father would of wished you into my form then. He wanted a healer's son. Not a cook." He turns back towards Vanya and smiles at her before he wriggles his nose slightly. "Wait." He moves over to her side, blushing a bit more deeply now. "Try this." He opens another one of the flora scents, a softer more sublte one. "Add some of this." He grins. "Trust me." He is standing up fully now, the water covering him still, but his height is un-mistakable. "You'll smell so good men will try to eat your hair."
Vanya looks at the young man, but allows him to do what it is he's wanting to without question. Vanya's a tall girl, but she still has to look up at Kale. "My, you're a lot taller than I thought," she says, smiling at the cook. "That must come in handy for reaching those higher shelves. Lucky you. I have to use a step-stool even though I'm taller than many folks." She sniffs, and tilts her head to the side. "That is interesting. No wonder you're a good cook, if you have that acute a sense of smell." But, it's the remark about his father that seems to fade her smile a bit. "Yes, well, my father was a healer, and my mother wanted one of her children to follow in his footsteps. My older brother went to Weaver Hall, so it got left up to me. I wanted to be a harper, but ..." She shrugs. "I found my niche, so it was all good."
A soft blush comes to the young man's cheeks as he looks down at Vanya and he grins at her. "Oh, well thanks." He blushes before he nods at her. "Well, can you sing?" He asks the young woman as he begins to soap up his own body. "If you sing for me, I'll scrub your back." He grins, "It's a fair trade."
"Not very well," Vanya admits, smiling and reaching for a cloth in her basket. "And, that's all right, about scrubbing my back. I don't really have time to indulge in such pleasures right now. I'm due at a meeting with Sinopa shortly, and I don't dare be too late. But, I'll take you up on it another time, certainly." The smile she offers is friendly enough, but not overly so. She's been the source of enough gossip lately, after all. No need to give the rumor mill more material. "Pass the soap when you're finished, please?"
"Of course." Kale offers as he tosses the soap towards Vanya in an underhanded sort of a pitch. "Perhaps. May not be in the mood for song." A wink comes. "You didn't think I'd just soap your back for free did you? Got enough work to do." A soft laugh comes to his face to show that he's not chiding. "Riders.. always demanding. I understand they protect us, but." He sighs and shrugs. "Could be more forgiving."
"Oh, Sinopa is /very/ easy to work with, actually," Vanya is quick to say after catching the soap. She lathers the cloth and begins scrubbing her arms and neck, sinking into the water to one of the ledges along the side. "She and I have been slowly but surely working our way through the inventories, making sure the ledgers and lists all match. It's just a big job, and has been ignored for a while now. But, we're almost done, thankfully. Then we get to find out what else was ignored and tackle that." The girl continues to wash, silent for a few. "I have an adequate voice, but mostly I just sing for my own entertainment. Without training, it doesn't sound like much."
"Don't doubt yourself." Kale says, scrubbing some more before he drops down into the water and he sighs once again. "Ah well." He murmurs gently before he looks over at Vanya once again, grinning at her. "Because you don't know until you try in public." He offers, chuckling once more.
"Oh, I know well enough I don't sound nearly as good singing as trained harpers," Vanya assures the young man in the pool with her. She's sitting down on one of the underwater ledges, mostly covered by hot, steaming water, her hair wet after being washed. At the moment, they're both scrubbing away, apparently discussing singing or harpers or something of the like. The baths are pretty steamy, but there's the faint aroma of lavender and some other scent in the air that seems to come from the pool where the two people bathe. "So, as a singer, I make a good healer, to coin a phrase. Did you always want to be a cook?"
"As a cook, I make a good cook. It's really all that I've wanted to do. I could of done Weaving, but that's not really manly." He chuckles to himself before he pours water on his face. "So yes, I would say that I always did."
R'hal walks briskly in, escaping the wind outside, but slows as soon as he enters the warmth of the baths. He's dressed in flying gear, but carrying a bundle of other clothes to change into as well as the usual bathing paraphernalia. He offers a matter of fact "Evening!" to the people in the nearest pool, then snags up a towel from the communal supply and finds a free, dry spot to leave his clothes and starts undressing.
Vanya peers through the misty steam, and offers a polite, "Evening, sir," to the rider who enters. It's hard to tell who it is with the heavy haze, but the voice sounds familiar. "Still windy and cold outside?" she asks the man, a faintly sour note in her voice at the thought of cold weather. "I swear, if it gets much colder, I'm going to sleep over in the hatching sands where it's warm."
"Hello." Kale waves his hand through the steam towards the person that enters and he sinks down up to his chin into the water. He sighs softly as the heat soaks into his body. "Probably is. I can't stand going outside. I'm so used to the heat of the kitchens."
R'hal replies over his shoulder as he removes the last of his clothing. "I'm afraid it does, journeyman. And yes, it's still windy." He's not apparently embarrassed about stripping off, and he's soon immersed in hot water. "Who's that? Kale, isn't it?" He peers through the steam. "What's for dinner tonight, d'you know?"
"R'hal?" Her voice is a question, but the vague shape of the man is enough to confirm the identity. "Ah, please, it's just Vanya, all right? I don't stand on formality, unless you prefer me to call you Wingsecond instead of your name all the time." She gives a soft laugh after speaking, rinsing off the lather and sliding down until she's neck deep in the water. "My duty to your Yanith, sir," she adds.
"Floured Wherry strips." Kale offers, looking balefully towards the area of his clothing. "They should be pretty good." He offers, shrugging a bit as Vanya answers his own question. "Duties to yours." He offers, splooshing back into the water once again.
R'hal chuckles as he tells Vanya, "In that case, leave out the 'sir,' too." He bends his knees to the point where he's covered up to his neck, and stretches his arms out under the water so that they just break the surface. "Warmth. That's good. How are you both, anyway?"
"I'm fine, you?" Kale asks as he gets up out of the bath to begin drying himself off. "I certainly hope you like the food tongiht. IT was hard enough to cook." He grumbles softly. "Doing all of that. I looked like a floured wherry."
"Warm, yes," Vanya agrees, answering R'hal's question. "All right, no 'sir,' then," she adds, nodding as she leans back and rests her head on the rim of the pool, closing her eyes. "I assume everything's going well then. No riders complaining of any unusual back pains or the like? Cold weather can bring on joint distress quickly," she warns. "If you hear of anything, do let the healers know. Or, encourage your riders to soak in here as much as possible. That should ease any problems." She sighs. "Shards, I can't wait until this leave is over. I just hate not being able to do anything." Her voice is grumbly and sour. "I'm as bad as some of the injured riders. I want to be back there working /now/."
R'hal sounds curious as he glances towards Kale. "Floured? Do you flour them before or after you cook them? It sounds filling, anyway - just the thing for a cold night." He smiles towards the healer. "Oh, we're dreadful patients, I'm sure. If we can't fly, most of us don't know what to do with ourselves."
"Flour before cooking, and then you cook them and then well yeah.. They're filling. They're annoying." Kale grumbles a bit more before he shrugs and looks at Vanya before he shrugs. "It's not my choice, Vanya. I told you that my father was one of the stuffy ones. No way he's going to speak for anyone 'cept himself."
"Tell me about it," Vanya says, nodding toward R'hal's assessment. "I threatened to use a whip on some of them to make them rest until they were ready to fly again," she adds. "They didn't seem to realize they have to heal /all/ the way before it's safe to fly again. Though I like helping Sinopa, I want to be back doing what I came here to do." She quiets for a moment, letting Kale discuss cooking for a bit while she soaks away the cold. "It's all right, Kale," she tells the young man. "I don't expect anyone to speak up for me, though several folks have offered. The three months will be over soon enough."
R'hal frowns, puzzled, at Kale. "Your father?" He stands and reaches to the edge of the pool for soapsand, but waits before starting to lather himself, instead glancing towards Vanya again. "So how long have you got to go?" The sand is moistened and he starts to rub at his arms.
"He's a journeyman healer." Kale says, shruging as he moves to beat out his clothing. "That's why I mentioned that he wouldn't speak on Vanya's behalf." He offers, shaking his pants out some more before sliding them on.
"About two months or so," Vanya replies, sighing softly. "I'm filling the time constructively, at least. I've been studying dragon healing with R'zel, and the help of a few books and hides I checked out of the records room. It's been interesting, at least, and there are enough similarities in muscular and skeletal structure that I think I understand it well enough." She is quiet again, then adds, "As well as helping Sinopa, of course. She is rather concerned about how things have slipped to the wayside in the weyr, and is doing her best to get things set to rights. It's not been easy."
"Yes, well," R'hal says dryly. "We've had rather a lot of distractions. It'll be good to see things getting back to normal, that's for sure." He ducks his head beneath the water and then starts soaping his hair.
Kale smiles a bit as he looks towards the others. "Well, I hope that you can get back as soon as possible, Vanya." The young man says as he pulls his shirt over his head. "But for now, I'll see you around." He waves to R'hal as well. "Take care."
"Take care, Kale," Vanya calls, lifting a hand and lazily waving it in the cook's direction. "Give Dara my best when you see her, please? And I'll look forward to dinner. Nice to have met you." Once this has been said, she turns her attention to R'hal. "Distractions? I'd say murder and people getting hurt more than simple distractions, but that's just me. Sinopa's doing her best to get things back on track, but without either of the queens rising, there's not a lot she can do but strive for normalcy. It's just not right, the golds not rising. She's pretty worried about it, but not for the reasons everyone seems to think."
"Clear skies," R'hal calls after the departing cook, then turns his attention to the healer, frowning. "Why, then? I mean, everyone knows they ought to be rising frequently at this stage in the Pass. Having large clutches, too. We need those dragons. I'd expect her to be worried about it. Shells, /I'm/ worried about it."
"Well, near as I can figure, something inhibiting the queens from rising," Vanya remarks. "Sinopa and I have been going over records, and this isn't normal behavior. All the queens should have been rising regularly since before the Pass began. Older records from the last pass indicates this was routine until the later part of the Pass when they began to taper off." Her own expression is concerned. "We've toyed with several theories, including the presence of other queens, not High Reaches' queens here. Golds who have left High Reaches rise within a month or so. It's /got/ to be the fact there are just too many queens in the same place at the same time."
"/What?/" R'hal is clearly astonished, and lets his hand drop back into the water with a splash. "So, they're regulating themselves like we're told they can do when a Weyr is over-full? Only, it's not, and you're thinking it's because of the Caucus golds who don't belong to us at all? How many does it take?"
Vanya shakes her head. "That's only one theory, R'hal," she says quietly. "And a theory from someone who isn't a dragon healer, either. Just speculation based on human physiology. I mean, whenever you have a large number of women in one place, their cycles tend to ... well, correlate for some reason. No one's ever been able to quite explain it medically. There /shouldn't/ be a reason for it, but it happens all the time." She shrugs. "I don't know how many queens a weyr is supposed to have, but look at it this way. All the golds in the caucus were born someplace else, and they're of different ages. And, we have an older queen here, Lexine's Vasyath. What if they're all adjusting to /her/ cycle? -- which is slower now, because she's older?" Another shrug. "I can't find much in the books that deals with mating flights, other than they're supposed to be happening more often than they are."
"Women....correlate?" That seems to be a new one on R'hal. "Do they all kind of slip into line with each other, or do they all follow one, though? I mean, why would they follow one rather than another, if so? With more younger ones, wouldn't there be more chance they'd follow one of those, if it were like that?"
"I don't know," Vanya says, shrugging. "Like I said, no one's been able to medically explain it, but it happens, especially when they're in very close proximity. If I knew more about dragons, well, I'd be able to explain it better, but I'm just scratching the surface of what I suspect is a very deep subject." She takes a breath, letting it out slowly. "And, that's only one possibility. There are other factors to look at, too. We all know Citalth has risen before, mated and produced a clutch. So, obviously, have some of the other queens, only they do so at their home weyrs. Tialith is unproven, at this point, but I've no reason to believe she's not capable of rising. She may just be too young, still."
"Well, what is she? Three Turns? That's possible. Cause for doubt if she leaves it much longer, maybe..." R'hal sounds uncertain. He's standing with soap in his hair, the lather making the hair stand up in small spikes. "Let's hope it's soon." He ducks his head to rinse it.
"Yes, lets hope one of the two queens rises soon. The weyr is losing riders to 'fall, and there's not really any coming up to take their place. I wish I knew more about dragon physiology, but I don't. I only know something has to happen and soon, or the weyr's going to be hurting. There's this group of weyrlings, and then no others, and no eggs on the sands. It's a cause for concern, all right." She pauses, shifting a little in the water. "And then there's the wonder of which bronze will fly whichever queen rises. That's an even bigger debate in the lower caverns these days."
"Well, yes. That's a matter of interest to the riders, too - even if we don't ride bronzes. Whoever wins the Senior flight is Weyrleader, and someone in that post who doesn't know what he's about..." R'hal shakes his head. "But, I don't suppose it'll come to that."
"Indeed. It's a matter of concern for everyone, R'hal," Vanya says simply. "I think most of the bronze riders here are capable of doing the job, with maybe one exception -- and that's only because he's so young. D'ven, R'vain are both older, capable riders. Of the the rest -- well, I don't know them all that well, so I don't know what to say." She pauses, then looks over at the brownrider. "Who would you like to see as the Weyrleaders? I'm sure you have an opinion, and you know the riders a lot better than I do."
R'hal chuckles a little but refuses to be drawn. "Well now, I think I'll leave that one to the dragons to decide. Though, someone who still wants me as his second would be nice. As you say, there are several who could do a good job." He continues washing, getting on with the job a little more briskly now.
Vanya nods, then sits up. "Well, I can't blame you for not wanting to speculate, but I'm torn. I like Sinopa, and I think she could be a good weyrwoman. I know a few of the bronzeriders, but my choice would have been -- wouldn't have been suitable, I guess." She scoots forward now, then stands up, reaching for her towel. "I should really get going. I was supposed to meet with Sinopa over dinner, and I'm probably late. Not that we set a specific time, but I don't like to keep people waiting." She steps onto the ledge, wrapping the towel around her torso, then makes her way to the steps. "I'd imagine anyone who would turn experience away for popularity wouldn't make a good 'leader. They'd be foolish to not want you as a 'second, especially since you appear to be good at what you do. I'm surprised you weren't offered a wing of your own, considering that Br'ce was given one, and he rides brown."
R'hal shrugs. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. 1A is the Weyrleader's wing. When we fly Fall, the Weyrleader doesn't usually lead the wing - that's left up to his 'second, most of the time. So, they tend to want a good one. I suppose I should be flattered." He doesn't actually sound terribly flattered.
Vanya slips from the pool, gathering up her basket and moving over to the benches. She collects a second towel and wraps it turban style around her wet hair, then begins drying off. "I didn't know that," she admits. "I thought the weyrleader would lead his own wing, but I guess it makes sense. You're still the wingsecond, though, right? Even if J'cor's Karth can't fly anymore? They haven't taken you from the position, so you must be doing something right." She sits down on the bench, drying her legs with another towel.
R'hal nods, but doesn't speak until he's climbed out of the pool himself and wrapped himself decently in a towel. "That's right. I was wingsecond under G'thon, and then they brought Ch'dais in as Flight Leader when G'thon lost his dragon, and when J'cor took over he kept Ch'dais in the wing as junior 'second - except of course he's now Flight Leader /again/, with Karth out of action." Just a hint of annoyance there, maybe?
Vanya looks up and regards the rider with a knitted brow. "Instead of leaving you in the position?" she asks, her tone curious. "I'm a little surprised. It would be more logical to use the rider who has the more experience. Well, at least in my opinion, and admittedly, I don't know all that much about how things work with the wings." She carefully averts her eyes as R'hal leaves the water, not looking his way again until she's certain he's wearing a towel. "I'd have thought J'cor would have wanted the most experienced 'second to assist him, especially since he's not from here. Or, does it always have to be a bronzerider leading the weyrleader's wing?"
R'hal purses his lips before answering. "Well, normally it would be the Weyrleader. If a Weyrleader's out of action for a bit, because of an injury, say, then usually his second would step up, and the junior second would lead the wing in Fall - or another bronze or brownrider if there's only the one second. But with G'thon, it wasn't exactly a short temporary absence, was it? He wasn't coming back. So..." Another one of those tense, not entirely dismissive shrugs. "They wouldn't want a brownrider leading Falls for that length of time, I guess. And the same applies now. It's not a problem."
There is still a hint of concern on Vanya's forehead as she absorbs the information. "I see," she finally says, but she doesn't seem satisfied with that explanation. "So you've been wingsecond for that long," she adds, apparently considering something. "Seems to me you've had ample time to prove yourself." A shrug. "But, then, I have to ask why they wouldn't want a brownrider leading the wing --" She stops. Then, "Oh. Well, yes, there's a difference between other wings and the weyrleader's wing. Still, I'd have thought they'd have offered you your own wing by now." She shrugs. "Life is seldom fair in these things, I guess."
R'hal lifts a hand and makes that palm-down jiggling motion that suggests some doubt in the matter. "Well..., I suppose it's not that clear cut. Some people would say it's more of an honour to be the Weyrleader's second, so..." He towels his hair vigorously. From under the thick cloth come the words, "I could do without the politics, sometimes."
"Couldn't we all?" Vanya echoes that sentiment. "I grew up watching politics in the hold, and I detest them," she follows. "Still, they rear their ugly head, and you can't always avoid them, no matter how hard you try. A leadership should be based on ability, not popularity, but that's just my opinion." And then she stands, carefully dropping a clean under-chemise over her head. "I'd better be careful. Talk like that's sent more than one innocent person into exile."
R'hal lowers the towel from his hair and stands looking thoughtful, his forehead wrinkling. He says carefully, "That's perhaps easier to see from where you are, in the crafts, where advancement's got more to do with ability - at least in theory. For dragonriders, the dragons have their own built in hierarchy, and it's hard to get round that. That's why it's hard for good brownriders to become wingleaders - especially of the wings with mostly larger dragons. We make the assumption that bronzes do choose the most able people, of course. For a brownrider to dispute that - well, it would sound a bit like sour grapes, wouldn't it?"
There's a moment when it looks like Vanya would say something, but she hesitates a moment before saying, "You're right, of course, but it's not always ability in the crafts, either. There are good healers, for example, who for whatever reason will never be masters." She sighs. "There's no perfect system, R'hal. No perfect way of decision making. I'd like to see master someday, but I doubt I will." There's another moment of silence, then, "At least as a dragonrider, you have a respect that many of us will never see, and that's for one main reason -- you're a man."
R'hal can't really argue with that. He nods. "It's not perfect, no. Though, I think we men probably have the best of it in most walks of life; not just in the Weyr. And that's not got much to do with ability. Some of the women with greens are sharding fine riders, and they must have something going for them that a lot of men don't have, or they wouldn't have impressed. But they're still never going to hold rank."
"That's certainly true," Vanya agrees. "And, it's sad, in a way. There are female masters, certainly, but in those crafts which are traditionally meant for women, or considered 'women's work'. Like healing, weaving. You probably will never see a woman be master of the mining craft or something like that." She slips her dress over her head, adjusting it. "And, I don't suspect things will change any time soon. Not without more people being called Instigators for even thinking of such heresy."
R'hal shrugs. "I'm not sure why a woman would want to go in for mining, really, but...." Not such a liberated male after all, it seems. He runs a hand through his hair, then starts rubbing the rest of himself dry.
Now dressed except for shoes and stockings, Vanya sits there and reflects a moment. "I'm not certain, either, but she should be allowed to, if she wants to. That's my only thought on that. No one should be held back because of their gender, only their lack of ability." She sets about putting on her stockings, then her shoes. Once she's completely dressed, she rolls her soiled clothes up and puts them in her basket. "I hope someday you get a wing, R'hal. Everyone deserves a chance to do what they want to in life. I'd like to see that happen for you." She offers the rider a smile, picking up the basket. "I'm going to go try to find a warm place and get dinner. See you later, perhaps."
It takes a moment for R'hal to work out how to react to that. "Well, that's nice of you, but I'm doing all right in the meantime. Clear skies, Vanya." He waits for the healer to move away before continuing to dry himself.
"Clear skies, R'hal. My best to Yanith," Vanya calls over her shoulder, then disappears out into the lower caverns.