Bad Habits
Day 10, month 12, turn 20 of Interval 10: Fort Weyr Records Room
Jiella meets T'rev again, manages to explain why she was acting like an idiot at the Fort Gather. She makes a much better impression this time.
Records Room, Fort Weyr(#773RJs$)
Dual entrances provide access to the Weyr's Records Room: the great doors that open out onto a short tunnel to the Bowl and a twisting set of stairs that descends from the Weyrleaders' Complex. Within the room itself rows of stone shelving are carved out of the walls and supplemented by free-standing shelving of dark, polished wood arranged in neat, well-lit aisles. Bright tapestries depicting scenes from around the Fort region decorate the walls, each with a glow basket in a sconce immediately above to provide light by which to see the details and to leaven the gloom that would otherwise permeate the chamber. Underfoot, a richly woven carpet in shades of pale cream to rich klah brown evoke in abstract, the colors of the Weyr, while a subtle patterning at its center replicates the fortification that is Fort's hallmark symbol. Even without seeing the contents of those shelves, one would know the purpose of the room, given the perpetual aroma of hides, scrolls, paper, books and ink.
A few small alcoves have been carved out of the stone and filled with desks and chairs, providing relatively quiet places for those using the records room to work without being disturbed. Immediately before the doors that lead out to the Bowl, several long tables are arranged to provide larger, communal workspaces. Scribes can find writing implements, ink, paper, and other tools of the trade in a couple of discreetly located cabinets behind the duty desk. This cabinet and the outer doors are typically kept locked when no recordskeeper is on duty.
There's hundreds of options to keep candidates busy on any given day, but even given that, there's opportunities to get away with more idle activities. Even so, Jiella is really not one amongst the candidate group that people would expect to find in the records room - but here she is, paging idly through some recent Weyr history, apparently oblivious to any stares she might draw by her rather obvious blonde-and-curvy presence. Just in case anyone mistakes her for totally studious, she twirls a lock of hair idly around one finger.
It's the later part of the afternoon when T'rev comes in from the cold, cheeks pink and there's faint traces of oil gleaming around his nails though it's slowly absorbing into his skin, speaking of recent dragon-care. The Weyrleader in fact, seems intent on /not/ stopping near Jiella, leaving a table between him and her when he spots her, though given she's in the history section and that's also his aim ... he'd be hard pressed to manage it, even with quiet footsteps.
There's every indication that Jiella's been in her spot for awhile, a few other books stacked next to her - and up close, her lips aren't even moving! Who could've guessed? The blonde doesn't really look like she's lying in wait or anything either, given neither new entrances nor quick pass-bys raise brown eyes from her current occupation. But sneaking is something she'll twig to immediately - sucks to be T'rev. The girl glances up and over a table to the Weyrleader - and shockingly, limits herself to one hell of a smile and a polite, "Afternoon, sir." No throwing herself over the table, or giggling, just that and back to what she's doing. Well. Mostly.
Pause. Because it's polite you now, to greet a candidate and Fort Sea's daughter. T'rev turns a half turn and smiles back at the young lady. "Jiella, how nice to see you." And his gaze flickers over to her book. "History of Fort?" he questions maybe a faint trace of surprise on his face and he steps nearer. It's almost sad how much of a surefire draw history is for T'rev.
If Jiella were the observant sort, or just bright enough to keep her ears open, that interest in history /might/ be something she'd pick up. But she's not - or maybe not until recently? It is a bit of a change. Though she'd been looking at the book again, some little attention would have to be paid to T'rev for her to glance up as he turns - but he's cute, she's nineteen - pretty standard. "Right," she says, a little entertained, grinning. "You almost sound like you mean it. And yes, but pretty recent, I guess? I picked the newest looking covers - I know /nothing/ about this place."
"Well, have to admit, you're a very lovely looking young lady," T'rev says cheerily which is absolutely the truth. But. History! "Really? Is that -- something you'd like to know more about," the Weyrleader asks curiously, scanning the covers that she's pulled aside. "And yeah, this is all the last Pass and forward. Lookin' to start from now and go back in time?" Serious question as his eyes lift to her face. Probably still a little surprised, but his questions are honestly posed.
Airily, "I try." Jiella might be flip, but she's probably not lying about that. With another of her brilliant smiles, she spins the book that she's looking through T'rev's way and pushes it towards the end of the table. Resting elbow on table and chin in hand, she shrugs. "It helps, doesn't it? I mean, knowing who's here and all. And sort of - how things have gone. All useful stuff, though I will admit - not a big reader." For back in time, "Maybe? Mostly just trying to get the lay of the land, I guess?"
"Right, political understanding and all that, how we all fit together here," T'rev says casually as he peruses that page which actually has a few paragraphs about Cirse and R'uen and ... two sentences about him which seems to amuse him to no end. "Hey look, I'm goin' down in history," he jokes and looks back up at her with a warmer grin than he's shared with her ever before. "Want to go over some of this? Or you know, more current events even?" If there's any distrust or suspicion in him, he's doing an admirable of not showing it at all.
"Something like that," Jiella agrees, gaze flickering from T'rev to the book and back. With a mirror of that grin, "Didn't think of that yet? It sort of goes with the job, doesn't it? My name's been in all kinds of books - but not for /doing/ much. But I don't like to do much to begin with, so." A little shrug, totally unbothered by the admission - but all too pleased at the offer of some help. "That'd be nice. I mean, if you don't mind. I mean - I know I kind of gave you a hard time before... sorry about that." And she does look a little sorry, too. "It was kind of a bet."
"Well I figured it'd happen at some point, but ... it's still kind of funny to really see your name in print," T'rev says and traces out the letters on the page, looks up at the blonde with anothehr grin. "Isn't much better than sitting back and watching the world go by sometimes," he says carefully though his manner doesn't really betray that care. One hand sweeps through his hair and his brow lifts at that admission. "Really? A bet? And sure, I don't mind. Was comin' in to look at a few things myself. I just like history," he adds. "And um -- well, it made tha Gather ... interesting?"
"I guess maybe it would be. If you weren't really expecting it." Jiella doesn't really get it, but she does a good job of trying to, at least. "And I like sleeping in, but that's me." With a wrinkle of her nose, sighing, "Not like I get to do a lot of that now." Even though there's precious beauty sleep to mourn, the girl does have a story to tell, which she's more than happy to do. "Virelle bet me I couldn't manage to act like that for the whole gather, and - well. It was a matter of honour, and a really nice pair of shoes. Anyway, /I/ won." She gives a superior smirk before asking, "What were you going to look for?"
"Yeah, pretty much didn't, though I knew Mecaith was into Peirith," T'rev says with a little twitch of one shoulder and he grins over at Jiella. "Yeahhh, candidacy, all about getting all of y'all ready for taking care of baby dragons who don't keep anything like regular hours at first," he explains then listens attentively to her little story about the gather. "Well, I sure hope you won," the Weyrleader says with amiable good humor and laughs a little, though quietly and reaches over to draw a chair out for the blonde, "because that was really da-- very convincing." Conversationally: "Stuff from the last Pass."
Straightening, Jiella asks, "Well, so far as I heard, that's not totally unusual? Like, bronzes into golds? Or do you mean more than other queens?" She's got at lot of questions, at least - unless she's like some teenagers that phrase everything as a question. Flicking blonde hair back over her shoulders, "I had to win, like I said. Matter of honour." If T'rev's going to pull out a chair, she'll certainly take it, with a bright grin, obviously taking convincing as a compliment. "Thanks. And what kind of stuff? I'm just mostly trying to figure out who all these people are." A general gesture, for the room, the Weyr, likely.
"Mecaith -- is not really what you'd call typical," T'rev says with a little smirk as he tucks her chair in, then flops down into the one beside her and draws the books forward again. "There are four dragons he's ever been close to drawn to that way. His clutchmate Arenith was the first. Vrianth, a green at the Reaches was the second. Peirith ... and Elaruth," he says quietly. "No golds have ever ah -- quite done it for him before those two." Her hair might be blond but, a little flip like that he's still susceptible to. "Mostly just how things were," T'rev says. "I mean, it was an interesting Pass what with the old timers comin' forward and all. And what they expected from everyone over what riders from the 9th Pass did." He listens though, nods a few times and smiles at her brightly. "Well ... you know me, right and you got to meet Cirse at the meet and greet ... right?"
Tilting her head to one side, curious; "Huh. That's interesting, that it took awhile." Jiella is a little bemused at atypical bronze dragons, but she gives a shrug, noting, "I guess it worked out okay that way, though. I mean, maybe it wouldn't have been the right time otherwise. Timing is sort of important." Glancing from T'rev to the book, starting to thoughtfully twist a blonde lock around her finger again, "I think that might be a bit heavy for me, the whole Pass and coming forward thing. And yes, you and Cirse. And I know Hattie." Obviously.
"I pulled him out a bunch. Of other flights," T'rev relates. "Until I felt ... ready. For this." A little tilt of his head towards his knot. "Because yeah, timing. Very important. I would've su-- been really bad at this job when I was younger," he says and props an elbow up on the table, eyes on the young woman, with a little flick of his gaze to that finger-twirl. Not. Immune. "Yeah. You're kind of sort of related now. At least through the whole match-making thing. I'm surprised your father let you stand, actually."
Jiella's still a little confused, especially after T'rev mentions pulling Mecaith /out/ of flights; she glances over, light brows arching. "Really? I mean - you're still pretty young /now/, so I don't figure you could have screwed it up too badly beforehand. Like, you seem to be doing a decent job, to the point of putting up with airheaded holder's daughters." She grins, then catching to the glance towards her finger, her hair - a little embarrassed, she quickly untwirls it, leaving a loose corkscrew. "Bad habit. And she's an in-law, but I don't figure we'd see each other a lot otherwise. As for my father... Well, I was a little surprised too, but there's a lot of us girls around the same age, all unmarried. Maybe he figures it couldn't hurt, who knows."
"I'm twenty-four," T'rev says with a little nod. "Which is ... a damn sight better I think than being in this at seventeen or even twenty like K'del or An'dren, though K'del's doing a pretty good job. Seems like he knows how to ask for help and I figure that's the most important thing if you've got no experience," the Weyrleader notes. "Remains to be seen though if I'm screwin' up or not," T'rev says candidly and grins. "Well y'know, I'm glad it turns out you're /not/ really an airhead, though regardless, you're a pretty good dancer." And if she knows anything about him at all, that's a very good compliment from the Weyrleader who loves to dance. His fingers start to reach out towards that curl to tuck it back and then his head ducks, a low chuckle sounding from between his chin and the table. "Bad habit," he echoes Jiella with a lopsided grin and sets his hand back down. "Yeah, you'd think he'd have married off Ealla first instead of Eidee."
"Sounds like a lot of work, really. So I guess, better to have time to do nothing /then/ take the job rather than just falling into it right off?" Jiella is a big fan of doing nothing, apparently - as pretty much everything about her would suggest. To the matter of T'rev's screwing up, "I guess it's one of those things where you don't know you've done it till there's a bunch of fires to put out at once? Seems like nothing's burning down right now. And thank you for both compliments - I like to dance more than I like being really stupid, though." The girl flicks a glance to his hand at the abortive motion, very still - then just tucks that lock back behind her ear on her own with a slight smile. "Not that bad a habit, but I guess it doesn't look good? And... yeah." Expression darkening only a little, "You'd think, but no. I don't even try to figure out why, stopped bothering a long time ago."
"Yep, a lot of going around meeting with people, plus arranging the wings and so on," T'rev explains a little about the Weyrleader's role. "I've been a wingsecond and then a wingleader from right out of weyrlinghood though so ... never ntohing," he notes and folds both of his hand together with an expressive: 'I'm going to be a good boy!' look on his face. "Well ... we'll see," he says carefully. "Could be some fires to put out." He regards her for a moment, through the hair-tucking and more importantly that darkening of expression. "Might be something you could help with actually," T'rev puts that thought out there casually. "You know, briding the gap between hold and Weyr. Us and -- your father."
With a laugh, "So, it was okay to just be a wingsecond and wingleader really young, but not Weyrleader." Jiella seems amused by that, grinning again - a grin that widens at T'rev's hand-folding and attempts at propriety. "I guess maybe you had more bad habits before? There's probably a limit that you need to be under." For the vague statement, she has a curious glance; the suggestion that comes next, however, just leaves her thoughtful. "It's a possibility. And I mean, it's even a possibility that's why he let me come here." After a moment, she shakes the thought off, then blinks over towards him. "It's almost dinner, isn't it? I promised a few of the others I'd meet them... You don't mind, do you? Maybe - you can sort of get me up to date later?"
"Yeah because when you're a 'second, you look to your wingleader see, they're training you up," T'rev explains. "And then when you're a wingleader there's the Weyrleader between you and the world out there. When you're Weyrleader it's just you and the Weyrwoman and everyone's lookin' to you for the answers. You're responsible for the people under you, the people in the Weyr and your screw ups can affect all of them, just like whatever a Lord or Holder does affects all of his people," T'rev says very sincerely. Breath in, breath out and a nod. "I've learned limits in the past few turns," he notes with another one of those little grins. "At any rate, yeah, maybe so. And if you've got folks waitin' on you, please, best be going. Though if you'd like, I'd be happy to walk you over. Should grab a bite myself before I get into serious readin' or I might forget to eat."
That's a whole lot of responsibility for Jiella to take in, a young woman who is most likely very much used to ordering people around without worrying about the consequences. It's a good thing she didn't talk about buying her way out of chores again. With light brows furrowed, "Huh. That makes sense, I suppose." She's not about to commit to it yet. T'rev's comment about limits has her curious, as she notes, "I wouldn't have ever guessed you had to learn them, from the gather." Maybe not from /now/, but hey. And predictably, the idea of being walked over is well received - beaming, "Even better. Then you can read, and I can come bother you about this stuff later."
"Cold turkey for candidacy and weyrlinghood and then by choice, for months!" T'rev says with a big wide-eyed look that's clearly an exaggerated tease, but then he just smiles at her and reaches over to flip the book closed. "I'll put this aside then. For when you'd like to take a look. I've got a reserve shelf just over there," a nod towards where he keeps things checked out for reading just behind the recordkeeper-on-duty's desk. "Can find this when you come back and we can talk it through another time," the Weyrleader promises. He catches up the volume to go stow it, comes back to offer Jiella his arm, tucks his scarf around his neck a little bit more against late autumn's chill. He puts on a little bit of a hoity toity 'harper' voice then: "Shall we?"
With a grin, "I'm impressed." Seeming a little touched for the gesture - the shelf /behind/ the desk, thankyouverymuch - Jiella offers, "Thanks. That's nice of you - I mean, I might not wind up sticking around, but never hurts to know a little about a place." As T'rev takes the book away, she pushes out of her chair and prepares herself for the outdoors as well - and is more than pleased to take the offered arm. "Lead on," she says - and is equally entertaining all the way to the living cavern, where she regretfully splits off to find the other candidates she's supposed to be meeting. Always leave 'em wanting more.
Jiella meets T'rev again, manages to explain why she was acting like an idiot at the Fort Gather. She makes a much better impression this time.
Records Room, Fort Weyr(#773RJs$)
Dual entrances provide access to the Weyr's Records Room: the great doors that open out onto a short tunnel to the Bowl and a twisting set of stairs that descends from the Weyrleaders' Complex. Within the room itself rows of stone shelving are carved out of the walls and supplemented by free-standing shelving of dark, polished wood arranged in neat, well-lit aisles. Bright tapestries depicting scenes from around the Fort region decorate the walls, each with a glow basket in a sconce immediately above to provide light by which to see the details and to leaven the gloom that would otherwise permeate the chamber. Underfoot, a richly woven carpet in shades of pale cream to rich klah brown evoke in abstract, the colors of the Weyr, while a subtle patterning at its center replicates the fortification that is Fort's hallmark symbol. Even without seeing the contents of those shelves, one would know the purpose of the room, given the perpetual aroma of hides, scrolls, paper, books and ink.
A few small alcoves have been carved out of the stone and filled with desks and chairs, providing relatively quiet places for those using the records room to work without being disturbed. Immediately before the doors that lead out to the Bowl, several long tables are arranged to provide larger, communal workspaces. Scribes can find writing implements, ink, paper, and other tools of the trade in a couple of discreetly located cabinets behind the duty desk. This cabinet and the outer doors are typically kept locked when no recordskeeper is on duty.
There's hundreds of options to keep candidates busy on any given day, but even given that, there's opportunities to get away with more idle activities. Even so, Jiella is really not one amongst the candidate group that people would expect to find in the records room - but here she is, paging idly through some recent Weyr history, apparently oblivious to any stares she might draw by her rather obvious blonde-and-curvy presence. Just in case anyone mistakes her for totally studious, she twirls a lock of hair idly around one finger.
It's the later part of the afternoon when T'rev comes in from the cold, cheeks pink and there's faint traces of oil gleaming around his nails though it's slowly absorbing into his skin, speaking of recent dragon-care. The Weyrleader in fact, seems intent on /not/ stopping near Jiella, leaving a table between him and her when he spots her, though given she's in the history section and that's also his aim ... he'd be hard pressed to manage it, even with quiet footsteps.
There's every indication that Jiella's been in her spot for awhile, a few other books stacked next to her - and up close, her lips aren't even moving! Who could've guessed? The blonde doesn't really look like she's lying in wait or anything either, given neither new entrances nor quick pass-bys raise brown eyes from her current occupation. But sneaking is something she'll twig to immediately - sucks to be T'rev. The girl glances up and over a table to the Weyrleader - and shockingly, limits herself to one hell of a smile and a polite, "Afternoon, sir." No throwing herself over the table, or giggling, just that and back to what she's doing. Well. Mostly.
Pause. Because it's polite you now, to greet a candidate and Fort Sea's daughter. T'rev turns a half turn and smiles back at the young lady. "Jiella, how nice to see you." And his gaze flickers over to her book. "History of Fort?" he questions maybe a faint trace of surprise on his face and he steps nearer. It's almost sad how much of a surefire draw history is for T'rev.
If Jiella were the observant sort, or just bright enough to keep her ears open, that interest in history /might/ be something she'd pick up. But she's not - or maybe not until recently? It is a bit of a change. Though she'd been looking at the book again, some little attention would have to be paid to T'rev for her to glance up as he turns - but he's cute, she's nineteen - pretty standard. "Right," she says, a little entertained, grinning. "You almost sound like you mean it. And yes, but pretty recent, I guess? I picked the newest looking covers - I know /nothing/ about this place."
"Well, have to admit, you're a very lovely looking young lady," T'rev says cheerily which is absolutely the truth. But. History! "Really? Is that -- something you'd like to know more about," the Weyrleader asks curiously, scanning the covers that she's pulled aside. "And yeah, this is all the last Pass and forward. Lookin' to start from now and go back in time?" Serious question as his eyes lift to her face. Probably still a little surprised, but his questions are honestly posed.
Airily, "I try." Jiella might be flip, but she's probably not lying about that. With another of her brilliant smiles, she spins the book that she's looking through T'rev's way and pushes it towards the end of the table. Resting elbow on table and chin in hand, she shrugs. "It helps, doesn't it? I mean, knowing who's here and all. And sort of - how things have gone. All useful stuff, though I will admit - not a big reader." For back in time, "Maybe? Mostly just trying to get the lay of the land, I guess?"
"Right, political understanding and all that, how we all fit together here," T'rev says casually as he peruses that page which actually has a few paragraphs about Cirse and R'uen and ... two sentences about him which seems to amuse him to no end. "Hey look, I'm goin' down in history," he jokes and looks back up at her with a warmer grin than he's shared with her ever before. "Want to go over some of this? Or you know, more current events even?" If there's any distrust or suspicion in him, he's doing an admirable of not showing it at all.
"Something like that," Jiella agrees, gaze flickering from T'rev to the book and back. With a mirror of that grin, "Didn't think of that yet? It sort of goes with the job, doesn't it? My name's been in all kinds of books - but not for /doing/ much. But I don't like to do much to begin with, so." A little shrug, totally unbothered by the admission - but all too pleased at the offer of some help. "That'd be nice. I mean, if you don't mind. I mean - I know I kind of gave you a hard time before... sorry about that." And she does look a little sorry, too. "It was kind of a bet."
"Well I figured it'd happen at some point, but ... it's still kind of funny to really see your name in print," T'rev says and traces out the letters on the page, looks up at the blonde with anothehr grin. "Isn't much better than sitting back and watching the world go by sometimes," he says carefully though his manner doesn't really betray that care. One hand sweeps through his hair and his brow lifts at that admission. "Really? A bet? And sure, I don't mind. Was comin' in to look at a few things myself. I just like history," he adds. "And um -- well, it made tha Gather ... interesting?"
"I guess maybe it would be. If you weren't really expecting it." Jiella doesn't really get it, but she does a good job of trying to, at least. "And I like sleeping in, but that's me." With a wrinkle of her nose, sighing, "Not like I get to do a lot of that now." Even though there's precious beauty sleep to mourn, the girl does have a story to tell, which she's more than happy to do. "Virelle bet me I couldn't manage to act like that for the whole gather, and - well. It was a matter of honour, and a really nice pair of shoes. Anyway, /I/ won." She gives a superior smirk before asking, "What were you going to look for?"
"Yeah, pretty much didn't, though I knew Mecaith was into Peirith," T'rev says with a little twitch of one shoulder and he grins over at Jiella. "Yeahhh, candidacy, all about getting all of y'all ready for taking care of baby dragons who don't keep anything like regular hours at first," he explains then listens attentively to her little story about the gather. "Well, I sure hope you won," the Weyrleader says with amiable good humor and laughs a little, though quietly and reaches over to draw a chair out for the blonde, "because that was really da-- very convincing." Conversationally: "Stuff from the last Pass."
Straightening, Jiella asks, "Well, so far as I heard, that's not totally unusual? Like, bronzes into golds? Or do you mean more than other queens?" She's got at lot of questions, at least - unless she's like some teenagers that phrase everything as a question. Flicking blonde hair back over her shoulders, "I had to win, like I said. Matter of honour." If T'rev's going to pull out a chair, she'll certainly take it, with a bright grin, obviously taking convincing as a compliment. "Thanks. And what kind of stuff? I'm just mostly trying to figure out who all these people are." A general gesture, for the room, the Weyr, likely.
"Mecaith -- is not really what you'd call typical," T'rev says with a little smirk as he tucks her chair in, then flops down into the one beside her and draws the books forward again. "There are four dragons he's ever been close to drawn to that way. His clutchmate Arenith was the first. Vrianth, a green at the Reaches was the second. Peirith ... and Elaruth," he says quietly. "No golds have ever ah -- quite done it for him before those two." Her hair might be blond but, a little flip like that he's still susceptible to. "Mostly just how things were," T'rev says. "I mean, it was an interesting Pass what with the old timers comin' forward and all. And what they expected from everyone over what riders from the 9th Pass did." He listens though, nods a few times and smiles at her brightly. "Well ... you know me, right and you got to meet Cirse at the meet and greet ... right?"
Tilting her head to one side, curious; "Huh. That's interesting, that it took awhile." Jiella is a little bemused at atypical bronze dragons, but she gives a shrug, noting, "I guess it worked out okay that way, though. I mean, maybe it wouldn't have been the right time otherwise. Timing is sort of important." Glancing from T'rev to the book, starting to thoughtfully twist a blonde lock around her finger again, "I think that might be a bit heavy for me, the whole Pass and coming forward thing. And yes, you and Cirse. And I know Hattie." Obviously.
"I pulled him out a bunch. Of other flights," T'rev relates. "Until I felt ... ready. For this." A little tilt of his head towards his knot. "Because yeah, timing. Very important. I would've su-- been really bad at this job when I was younger," he says and props an elbow up on the table, eyes on the young woman, with a little flick of his gaze to that finger-twirl. Not. Immune. "Yeah. You're kind of sort of related now. At least through the whole match-making thing. I'm surprised your father let you stand, actually."
Jiella's still a little confused, especially after T'rev mentions pulling Mecaith /out/ of flights; she glances over, light brows arching. "Really? I mean - you're still pretty young /now/, so I don't figure you could have screwed it up too badly beforehand. Like, you seem to be doing a decent job, to the point of putting up with airheaded holder's daughters." She grins, then catching to the glance towards her finger, her hair - a little embarrassed, she quickly untwirls it, leaving a loose corkscrew. "Bad habit. And she's an in-law, but I don't figure we'd see each other a lot otherwise. As for my father... Well, I was a little surprised too, but there's a lot of us girls around the same age, all unmarried. Maybe he figures it couldn't hurt, who knows."
"I'm twenty-four," T'rev says with a little nod. "Which is ... a damn sight better I think than being in this at seventeen or even twenty like K'del or An'dren, though K'del's doing a pretty good job. Seems like he knows how to ask for help and I figure that's the most important thing if you've got no experience," the Weyrleader notes. "Remains to be seen though if I'm screwin' up or not," T'rev says candidly and grins. "Well y'know, I'm glad it turns out you're /not/ really an airhead, though regardless, you're a pretty good dancer." And if she knows anything about him at all, that's a very good compliment from the Weyrleader who loves to dance. His fingers start to reach out towards that curl to tuck it back and then his head ducks, a low chuckle sounding from between his chin and the table. "Bad habit," he echoes Jiella with a lopsided grin and sets his hand back down. "Yeah, you'd think he'd have married off Ealla first instead of Eidee."
"Sounds like a lot of work, really. So I guess, better to have time to do nothing /then/ take the job rather than just falling into it right off?" Jiella is a big fan of doing nothing, apparently - as pretty much everything about her would suggest. To the matter of T'rev's screwing up, "I guess it's one of those things where you don't know you've done it till there's a bunch of fires to put out at once? Seems like nothing's burning down right now. And thank you for both compliments - I like to dance more than I like being really stupid, though." The girl flicks a glance to his hand at the abortive motion, very still - then just tucks that lock back behind her ear on her own with a slight smile. "Not that bad a habit, but I guess it doesn't look good? And... yeah." Expression darkening only a little, "You'd think, but no. I don't even try to figure out why, stopped bothering a long time ago."
"Yep, a lot of going around meeting with people, plus arranging the wings and so on," T'rev explains a little about the Weyrleader's role. "I've been a wingsecond and then a wingleader from right out of weyrlinghood though so ... never ntohing," he notes and folds both of his hand together with an expressive: 'I'm going to be a good boy!' look on his face. "Well ... we'll see," he says carefully. "Could be some fires to put out." He regards her for a moment, through the hair-tucking and more importantly that darkening of expression. "Might be something you could help with actually," T'rev puts that thought out there casually. "You know, briding the gap between hold and Weyr. Us and -- your father."
With a laugh, "So, it was okay to just be a wingsecond and wingleader really young, but not Weyrleader." Jiella seems amused by that, grinning again - a grin that widens at T'rev's hand-folding and attempts at propriety. "I guess maybe you had more bad habits before? There's probably a limit that you need to be under." For the vague statement, she has a curious glance; the suggestion that comes next, however, just leaves her thoughtful. "It's a possibility. And I mean, it's even a possibility that's why he let me come here." After a moment, she shakes the thought off, then blinks over towards him. "It's almost dinner, isn't it? I promised a few of the others I'd meet them... You don't mind, do you? Maybe - you can sort of get me up to date later?"
"Yeah because when you're a 'second, you look to your wingleader see, they're training you up," T'rev explains. "And then when you're a wingleader there's the Weyrleader between you and the world out there. When you're Weyrleader it's just you and the Weyrwoman and everyone's lookin' to you for the answers. You're responsible for the people under you, the people in the Weyr and your screw ups can affect all of them, just like whatever a Lord or Holder does affects all of his people," T'rev says very sincerely. Breath in, breath out and a nod. "I've learned limits in the past few turns," he notes with another one of those little grins. "At any rate, yeah, maybe so. And if you've got folks waitin' on you, please, best be going. Though if you'd like, I'd be happy to walk you over. Should grab a bite myself before I get into serious readin' or I might forget to eat."
That's a whole lot of responsibility for Jiella to take in, a young woman who is most likely very much used to ordering people around without worrying about the consequences. It's a good thing she didn't talk about buying her way out of chores again. With light brows furrowed, "Huh. That makes sense, I suppose." She's not about to commit to it yet. T'rev's comment about limits has her curious, as she notes, "I wouldn't have ever guessed you had to learn them, from the gather." Maybe not from /now/, but hey. And predictably, the idea of being walked over is well received - beaming, "Even better. Then you can read, and I can come bother you about this stuff later."
"Cold turkey for candidacy and weyrlinghood and then by choice, for months!" T'rev says with a big wide-eyed look that's clearly an exaggerated tease, but then he just smiles at her and reaches over to flip the book closed. "I'll put this aside then. For when you'd like to take a look. I've got a reserve shelf just over there," a nod towards where he keeps things checked out for reading just behind the recordkeeper-on-duty's desk. "Can find this when you come back and we can talk it through another time," the Weyrleader promises. He catches up the volume to go stow it, comes back to offer Jiella his arm, tucks his scarf around his neck a little bit more against late autumn's chill. He puts on a little bit of a hoity toity 'harper' voice then: "Shall we?"
With a grin, "I'm impressed." Seeming a little touched for the gesture - the shelf /behind/ the desk, thankyouverymuch - Jiella offers, "Thanks. That's nice of you - I mean, I might not wind up sticking around, but never hurts to know a little about a place." As T'rev takes the book away, she pushes out of her chair and prepares herself for the outdoors as well - and is more than pleased to take the offered arm. "Lead on," she says - and is equally entertaining all the way to the living cavern, where she regretfully splits off to find the other candidates she's supposed to be meeting. Always leave 'em wanting more.