Mud and politics and subtle manipulation.
Who: Diya, Issa, J'lor, Miniyal
Where: A very wet island.
When: Late morning, early afternoon (island time) on day 24, month 1, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
What: Issa makes good on her deal with Miniyal and takes her to see Diya. Miniyal has other reasons for wanting to go that she makes clear while there.
Note: There is more to this. Stay tuned for the Diya and Min talk. And the Diya and Issa talk. And quite possible the Issa and J'lor talk. One never knows! But I give what we have for now and will add links to what comes later for the full day picture.
1/15/2007
On the exiles' island, it is 11:43 on day 24, month 1, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
Departing from the snow-filled skies over High Reaches after the dinner hours have waned, Oshisyth and her passengers blink into between over the tropical tableau of tiny islands when the morning is just dragging into noon. Though that distinction might be hard to make, seeing as heavy clouds block out both mainland and ocean skies and prevent one from noting the position of the sun. Apart from the sight, the temperature marks this location as wholly different, the air weighted with the sticky humidity of the rainy season, though no raindrops can be felt at the moment. The initial descent is swift, Oshsisyth pulling in her electric green wings and directing their swoop to one of the smaller islands bisected with a thin ribbon of water. >>We are back.<< Oshisyth's cheerful voice beams into being suddenly in the minds of two dragons only, shadowed swirls of cloudy grey tempered by a light, feathered touch. >>And we have brought someone.<< This part is a warning, issued to both of them though there is a more tentative feel when the image of Miniyal is presented to Nenuith. >>We are headed to the same place. Join us?<< Oshisyth tapers off her steep angle as they near the island, flying low over treetops until they reach a field filled with tall grass and new patches of mud, the sound of rushing water reaching their ears. Issa dismounts with a jump, her boots quickly sucked into the sludge, and turns to wait for Miniyal, ready to lend an assisting hand should it be necessary.
Miniyal doesn't need assistance or at least will not take it. She scrambles down, graceless as ever, but does so without tripping up on her skirt or dropping the case she carries in her hand. Her writing case, Issa would have been told. Because it is her way of slipping away from her room without questions being asked. The implication being then that a certain caucus instructor does not know where she has come today. There has certainly been no indication she would have told Gans. Yet. . .Well, tomorrow is another day. So, she looks down at the ground first and lets out a sigh. Mud. Then she studies her surroundings curiously. The sky, the trees, the field they stand in. All of it is noted and remembered just in case it might come in handy another time. It's not something she thinks of doing, she just spends time learning her surroundings. Finally she looks back to Issa and offers the other woman a faint smile. "Thank you again. And people complain about the weather at home." Shaking her head she lets out a sigh and peers around once more as if not willing or able to continue looking towards Issa.
After lunch means weyrlings busy with chores, and weyrlings busy with chores means a Weyrlingmaster with a bit of spare time on his hands. J'lor was spending it on the beach, sketching formations into the sand that included significantly more dragons than the original thirty. Vellath dozes nearby, wings fanned out to bask in sunlight that isn't there. But at the summons, his eyes open and his head lifts. His rider tips his chin up as well, a faint smile flicking over his mouth. "Well," he murmurs, "so she is. But who do you suppose..." The bluerider pushes to his feet and scrambles aboard his lifemate. Vellath takes a running leap and wings bear him upwards, along the line of the island's shore and then veering to the little islet where such clandestine meetings have sevrral times now taken place.
Warmth fills Nenuith's response, echoed down that rich alto that models itself on her rider's voice. >> Welcome back, << she says, some of the green's good cheer reflected. She lifts herself up from her wallowing off the island's shores, shadowing her words with the images she sees. She crawls out of the water and shakes herself as Diya, already soaked, wanders out to meet her. >> We are coming, << Nenuith explains then, and cuts the contact. The island's visitors have a few minutes to get acquainted with the place before gold wings heave into sight. The queen flies low, cuts a quick turn overhead, and lands neatly a few paces from her daughter. Her rider slides from her back still dripping ocean water, but with a collected smile on her face all the same.
Issa has prepared for this weather, a fact proven when she strips her thick riding jacket to reveal surprisingly light clothes beneath, a springlike tunic incongruous with her winter pants. "It's not usually this... wet," the greenrider explains, lifting her jacket above the droplet-tipped grass in order to tuck it in against her straps. "Least when I've been here." There's a little wrinkle that forms between her brows for that comment, unexplained. And then, alerted by Oshisyth's raising chirrup and perhaps a more mental cue, Issa turns her eyes to the sky to watch the other dragons land. She spares only a quick and businesslike nod for J'lor before turning to her former weyrwoman and mentor. "We don't have much time," she comments with a sly little smile spared for Diya alone once she reaches an easy conversational distance, "but we could have given you the time to dry a bit."
Having seen Diya in the past, spoken with her, known her, worked for her, she is not the focus of Miniyal's attention. That honor is reserved for J'lor and it comes with it a slight tightening of her fingers on the handle of her writing case. Also, she does not have any lingering worry about him. Not the way she does with the former weyrwoman and it is with that in her eyes that she turns to look at Diya. Indirectly as she does not seem willing to meet the older woman's eyes. "Diya," is offered softly. "It is good to see you again." Yes, isn't it just. Then she turns back to J'lor and nods once. "J'lor. It is nice to meet you. I've read quite a bit about you. I suppose I am a bit disappointed you've no fangs or the like. . .yet another historical myth proven wrong." If she is teasing it is hard to tell. She might be, but she sounds so serious.
Vellath settles into the mud with a squelch and a softer version of the same noise is echoed when his rider slides down his neck. Flecks of mud splatter the lower portions of his pants on contact and while there is a faint wrinkling of his nose, there's no other comment about the muck as the bluerider makes his way over to Issa and her passenger. The courteous nod the greenrider gives is returned with a small one of his own, and then his attention shifts to Miniyal, and one dark brow arches upwards in an expression that Roa often wears. "Have you?" His voice is low and warm. "They say my eyes glow in the dark as well, but I suppose, at is it light, you will have to decide for yourself the truth of that one. Well met..." and then he pauses and waits for the woman to complete his statement with her name.
Water has soaked Diya's curls into straight lines, giving her face an even longer look than usual. Her smile lifts sadness out of it, but she does seem older than she ought. "What dry? This weather doesn't let me dry." She lifts a hand to gesture vaguely at the sky, looming clouds and dripping trees wrapped up in one smooth motion. She draws near the two visitors, picking her way carefully through the unpleasant mud in her feet, and greets Issa first with a hand that comes down to her shoulder and draws her in for a swift hug. For Miniyal, she restrains the familiarity, placing a hand gently on the young woman's shoulder when her name is spoken. It gives a gentle squeeze. "Miniyal," she says, a greeting and an answer for J'lor at the same time. She reclaims her hand to brush wet hair back behind her ears.
Issa lets out a short little laugh for Diya as she steps into that hug easily, the sound more delight at seeing the rogue goldrider again rather than simple amusement for the weather joke. Soon after, her expression smoothes down from cheer, her smile dimmed to a more polite level as the greetings and introductions proceed. "I've come mostly for Miniyal's agenda, this time," she notes to J'lor once Diya has provided the name for the bluerider, a glance stolen at the newcomer as if a prompt. She continues, however. "As well as to bring news from the mainland. Of course. Though I'm sure she can enlighten you just as well as I can." This time there's no significant glance to Miniyal, just a quick nod to J'lor before she crosses her arms across her chest and settles back to let her passenger take the floor.
"I need to know if you are mad at me." A selfish reason then for taking this risk. For asking another to take this risk. But Miniyal states this firmly and with a brief meeting of Diya's eyes. One that didn't even come close to happening when the older woman touched her shoulder. "Because you left and I did not have a chance to. . .to make sure you knew what had happened." For whatever reason this has become important to Miniyal it seems. Not enough that she cannot cast a glance towards J'lor again and very nearly smile. "That's not nearly as interesting as fangs and claws. I suppose if those two are not true I shall have to accept the eyes as lie as well." There is a pause, barely noticeable. Then she nods once more. "And I've a private message for you, sir." Assumptions may be made by the group in general for she does not explain further. News from the mainland she does not offer yet. Their time may be limited, but she will not rush into things. . .for once. For now.
"Miniyal." The bluerider's smile is far less absent, and it spreads until white teeth are showing. Arms moving out to his sides, he offers Miniyal is sort of courtly bow for her deductions on glowing eyes and fangs and the like. "I shall endeavor to find some other way to intrigue you then, my dear." He straightens, intrest flashing in his dark gaze as he looks from Miniyal to Issa to Diya and around again. "News, as you well know, is something we lack here." Which is, perhaps, one of the mainlanders' cues to start spilling.
Diya's brows arch upwards. Paused at first by Miniyal's bold words, her smile comes back in a shadow. "The short answer is no, I am not. The long answer, may have to wait a moment." Pulling her smile higher, she shares it around the circle, pausing longest on Issa. "News from the mainland," she prompts gently. She turns her head up to Nenuith, to find the queen shuffling around in search of a firm, dry spot to stand where she won't undo all the good her wallowing has done her. "I hear you have a new Weyrwoman." She turns away from her dragon, folding her long arms over her chest while she waits for confirmation.
All that Miniyal says seems to put a little more strain on the smile that remains firm on Issa's face, her pale eyes intent on her while she speaks. But while J'lor's hinting prompt doesn't have the power to distract her from watching the nonrider, Diya's repetition pulls her away from it. "Right," she says, alternating her gaze between the islanders again, "We do. Tialith flew, Ruvoth caught. Roa and R'vain are our new Weyrleaders. I haven't had a chance to poke around for harder information, yet, but the change doesn't seem to have affected the decision set by the Weyr Council to leave the islands untouched for now." Her eyes sneak back to her fellow mainlander, a check, perhaps, to see if her sneaking has provided her with something to add on that subject.
The short answer doesn't release the tension in Miniyal's shoulders. It does not lessen the worry in her eyes. If she feels that her own concerns are being pushed aside for that which is deemed more important she keeps it to herself. The only thing she does is glance away from everyone and look out once more on the island they stand on. This allows her to quite miss Issa's glance. Yep. However, she did not come here to play the wallflower and so she pulls her attention back towards those present. "If any other decision has been made I am not aware of it." Why it might be expected she, of all people, would know anything. . .well, there's a mystery. "I might have heard otherwise by now if that were so, but my avenues of information are not so good outside the weyr as in." Well, Diya knows she is sneaky somewhat so nothing given away there. Poor J'lor is allowed to infer what he will.
Poor J'lor again lifts one eyebrow, though this is at the statement of leadership. "R'vain?" he murmurs quietly. "That could be..." but what it 'could be' is not shared. Rather he glances again to Miniyal and then, more specifically, to the case she carries. The next question is directed to Issa. "Did she send you here? Or do you come on your own?"
Watchful blue eyes follow Miniyal while Issa speaks, taking advantage of the distraction worry gives her to analyze her features. "I would be more reassured if we knew the Council planned something." She moves back to the conversation, an active spark lighting her eyes. "It's never been an efficient group, but I don't trust this doing nothing." Both Miniyal and Issa get treated to a lingering pause with brows raised, pointedly it seems, but without explanation. In the next instant she waves off the impression with an easy sweep of her hand. She has already absorbed the news about R'vain and Roa, but the news did not shake her. For now, she leaves it with the nod she gave and the bluerider's musings.
For Miniyal's addition, Issa merely nods, slow and smooth before turning back to the other two. She uncrosses her arms and gives the front of her tunic a little shake to battle the sticking humidity when her attention falls on J'lor. "Mmm," she hums through closed lips, her cynical-sounding commentary on exactly what R'vain could be. "No. No, she's still under the impression that I've sworn off coming here." The statement is mischief-free, delivered matter-of-factly instead. And while it's being delivered just so, her gaze has switched to Diya, quietly absorbing the goldrider's reaction to the new developments. "As would I," she agrees softly then sets in to shaking her head. "But, if they do have plans, they've kept them secret; I wasn't able to learn anything of their decisions except the restrictions put on mainland travel."
Miniyal sees the glance to her case and offers a faint smile and nod of her head to J'lor. "Ah, right. In order to appear as if I was not planning something I shouldn't I was required to bring along my writing case. It is the best way for me to slip away from Gans without arousing suspicion." There is the briefest of pauses, an almost glance to Diya, when she realises that she mentioned the former weyrleader. J'lor is not expected to make the connection, most likely, between the nickname and the former leader of High Reaches. But Diya might and so she gets that covert glance and if there is a nervous twisting of her ring as she shifts her case from one hand to the other, well, nothing to worry about, folks. "If the council plans to act they do not plan to do so officially with all in attendance as neither Roa or R'vain have been seen doing more than what one might expect two newly to authority to do. Neither have they received any visitors that would indicate correspondence is going on. Or if they have it is a better kept secret than I can discover." Another pause here and she tips her head to one side, thoughtful. "There is no reason for Roa to know we have come here. If anything it would be a disadvantage to her at this juncture. Until it can be determined how well Tialith will keep secrets from Ruvoth. . .well. It's best if she not know everything that is going on. R'vain is not to be trusted to keep his mouth shut." Just a wee touch of bitterness in her tone. A tiny, wee, barely noticeable bit.
The bluerider looks again between Issa and Miniyal, a faint frown drawing down his brows and causing a crease to appear between them. There is a faint and distracted nod as Miniyal explaisn about her case and her Gans, but no suggestion that the name means anything more than a presumed lover or husband or somesuch. Still, after all of that talk of Weyr Councils and plotting and secrets, all he can think to ask is, "Neither of you approve of him, then?"
Diya's watchful gaze returns to Miniyal swiftly when she names Gans. Even in a nickname, she recognizes him. She leaves her curiosity unguarded, a thin smile pushing at her lips while her eyebrows lift in silent query, yet seems reserved somehow. Otherwise, she restrains her response to tiny nods offered at appropriate intervals, some of them passing for encouragement and others for acceptance of the information given. "No, perhaps he is not," she contributes quietly, rounding off Miniyal's statement with her own words. Bereft of bitterness, still, one could say there's a dry note in them.
"I don't," Issa confirms quickly for J'lor, with a fleeting increase in her smile. "But Roa has faith in him. And it looks as if she's taking control." For mention of Gans, the greenrider spares not a blink of an eye; that is strictly Miniyal's mess. And she is busy dealing with a mess of her own, shifting her feet in the muck to what is perceived to be a drier spot. Behind her, her dragon also shifts, Oshisyth's talons digging deeper into the mud where she stands while her rider extricates herself. The green's head is wrapped around toward her dam, but her sparking green eyes are focused on the gathering of people as they speak.
"I wouldn't say that exactly." Miniyal, honest to a fault. So when asked directly she must answer without lie. "Well, I would not say that for myself. I just. . .he has yet to prove himself to be trustworthy or anything more than he appears. But I believe he was the best choice. He is what the weyr needs right now. . .which is a horrid thing to say about us I suppose. However, it could have been worse." Her words of faint praise, so very faint, are grudgingly given. "Roa needs someone with experience to. . .temper her enthusiasms." It is not, perhaps, as politic a statement as she should have given. Certainly Gans would likely cringe at it at least inwardly as it reveals more than it tempts to be revealed. There is no attempt to look at Diya again. Not since she has slipped up. She would be, it seems, in no hurry to make known her relationship with that man. Not to anyone here. Which also means she doesn't quite look at Issa either since she is the other one here who might give up her secret.
"He was...I never had the opportunity to sit down with the man, but some of his ideals were admirable. He was wild. Reckless. I am, just a little bit, surprised that he's still alive. And I suppose, if she believes in him...perhaps that is something?" But he seems to be asking, rather than stating a fact. Then Issa's words get his attention. "She's taking control? What do you mean? Do you suppose...I mean do you think..." But the bluerider doesn't quite dare. Rather, his hands push into his pockets and he settles into a thoughtful silence as he examines the mud squelching up between his toes.
The mud seems to be a distraction for everyone just now. Diya passes a glance to the bluerider next to her, but the squelching sound brings her interest downwards. Crooking a small smile for the indulgence, the goldrider lifts her own feet and lets the bottoms of them brush cool wet mud on her shins. She has that luxury, here, of not remaining proper all the time. "They work together, or they struggle to control each other?" she asks. Her leg drops down into the mud again, but none of the little splashes from her movement get near the two Reachian visitors. Diya has that much caution for their sakes.
One of Issa's thin eyebrows arch upward and she repeats, "Do I think?" with a lurking sense of amusement to accompny the prompt. But it's with that same small smile she continues to elaborate. "I mean that I have noticed his decisions being influenced by her already. And, soon as it is," here she offers a slight nod to Diya, "I haven't seen the same influence of him in her actions." Her pale gaze slides sideways to Miniyal when she adds, the pronouns lightly stressed, "I would say right now that the control is at least a bit unbalanced in her favor."
It is so very hard for Miniyal to not speak out every thought. So /very/ hard. So she must be forgiven sometimes when one slips through. "She believes too easily." Oh, look. The sky. How interesting it is when she tilts her head so she might gaze up at it and not pay attention to anything else. Nope. There is no socially, physically awkward young woman here who brought this whole meeting about. The writing case switches hands once more. Once more in the process she touches the ring she wears. The mud is a non-issue for her it seems. The fact it finds ways to cling to the hem of her skirt every time she moves doesn't seem to register. If she has not planned on mud in her cover story, whatever it might be, she will simply do so before returning home. Miniyal: facilitator of meetings, if not active participant right now. Even Issa's look earns no response. None.
The island's Weyrlingmaster tips his head down, biting his inner cheek to fight away the smile that wants to peek through at Issa's statements that it is Roa that seems to be leading. "How can you tell?" he asks after clearing his throat. "What decisions have been made that leads you to think such?" For Miniyal's comment, she gets the attention of J'lor's klah-dark eyes, but if some might be put out by her assessment, the bluerider only grins for the moment it takes to force his facial muscles back into a thoughtful and neutal expression. Small mud bubbles rise and pop as his toes curl into the ooze more deeply.
The sparkle of amusement comes more readily to Diya's eyes now that she's become reacquainted with Miniyal's frank nature, and it lies in wait for the young woman's return once she's had enough of noticing pretty skies. Diya keeps her head tipped towards Issa and J'lor, visibly tuning her ears to their conversation without interfering in it.
Issa has learned well from her mentor, adapting Diya's habit to her own uses; though her face is tucked down, directed at the mud seeping over the soles of her boots, her eyes peek up to watch J'lor's face and that stifled smile. "Only a few things, so far," she answers, finally turning her face to follow her gaze, "but they're noticeable. He goes along with her attempts to connect to the caverns people of the weyr. He's convinced our new traditionalist Weyrlingmaster to consider taking on greenriding assistants." She shoots a glance toward Diya for that, marked by a lopsided quirking of her lips, the look significant even with its fleeting nature. "Which I somehow doubt was cooked up in R'vain's head." Her voice loosens to allow for a wry twist in her tone, suggesting that it's a sound hunch, if only just a hunch.
The mud is not fought anymore than she might fight anything else and so Miniyal sinks down into it without thought. Surely she notices, but there is no attempt to free herself from it. There is no use as it will just win again. A losing battle so best to give in right away and move on. When her attention does drift back to those she stands with in the mud her gaze rests first on Diya. From there it travels although eventually it rests on the sky once more. Watching it as if she doesn't trust it. "He's feeling her out. Finding out what she thinks is important so he knows what leverage he'll have later. I assume she is doing the same. Whether either is aware enough to realise the other does it. . .That I cannot say. It's only a matter of time until they are not getting along. The interesting thing to observe will be how long it takes them to overcome that first hurdle." Interesting, yes, that's the right word. She considers a moment and then shrugs her shoulders. "I would not be so sure of what was his and what was hers. He is. . .not quite what he always appears." Again with grudgingly given near praise for the weyrleader.
Well, drat. J'lor had just managed to look solemn and introspective when Issa began listing the things the new weyrwoman was concocting and he, too, must again study his toes as the smile takes over. "I, ah, I see," he attempts to say gruffly, but it mostly just comes out tickled. Miniyal's words have the needed effect, however, the grin dimming as the happenings are painted in a different light. He lifts his gaze, studies her, and nods once. The last few lines, the almost-suggestion has the bluerider's head canting to the side. But, there is only another small nod.
Diya's eyes swing back to Issa when she mentions greenriding assistants, the idea queried as soon as it's spoken with a small sideways tilt of her head. A smile of her own greets that lopsided one and brings her head back to an even keel. She sneaks a hand out to Issa's elbow for an encouraging squeeze, though it's short-lived as the smile that conveyed the tidbit. Diya already has arms crossed again when Miniyal assesses the situation, but she watches the bluerider for most of the young woman's words. "R'vain has often been surprising, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse." She draws her deep blue gaze back to Miniyal as she speaks, moving with slow grace despite the mud on her legs and water still dripping from her hair. "You know their habits well," she remarks, with the start of a new smile quivering on her lips.
Miniyal's speaking again? Issa turns to pay attention to her contribution, arms crossing tightly about her midsection again while she listens. "Maybe my observations are mistaken, then," she concedes quickly, smile kept light though her tone firms subtly to undercut it. "But, at the very least, they are working together. For now, as Miniyal says." And that transfers the spotlight back to Miniyal herself, Issa's eyes focusing on the woman as she nods faintly along with Diya's comments.
"I worked for Roa for a time." Miniyal allows this to be known with a shrug of her shoulders. "Although she finds my methods. . .not to her liking so I no longer do." There is no shrug for this, she has already shrugged after all. Instead she switches her case to her other hand again. "And I've lived at the weyr all my life. It is hard not to know R'vain and to figure out enough about him. One just has to pay attention and they learn plenty about everyone. However, I did not say you were mistaken, Issa. I merely said you might want to consider all the evidence before you conclude anything." She looks at no one as she speaks, that might give something away. Instead she studies her case as if it might give away what she should or should not say.
"Did you?" These words come from the bluerider and on Miniyal's confession of working for Roa. "What did..." but he stops, drags his attention away and over to Issa. "How much time can you manage, before you must return?"
There goes the smile, arching straight up Diya's features. The following revelation, that Miniyal has already stopped working for Roa, brings another pause over that smile. It returns gentled, but it returns. She flicks a glance to J'lor, briefly inclining her head when he interrupts himself. "A while longer, I would hope." Her eyes begin with Issa and move on to Miniyal. "For longer answers." The pause at her assistants now rolls on to complete the circle, returning to the bluerider with an uplifted smile.
"Miniyal's managing our alibi," Issa answers J'lor's question without separating her gaze from Miniyal. But there's a reason for that intentness, because she then asks of the woman, "How much time does it give us, do you think?"
"I did." Answer to J'lor first and it is ended with a more quiet, "It's not my place to say." As if it were not her fired, but Miniyal won't discuss her termination. Instead she inclines her head a fraction to Diya. "At least one longer would be appreciated, ma'am. Considering the lengths I have gone to in order to try to get it." And now, Issa. She certainly has had to talk a lot. Well, so be it. She shifts her position some, feet still firmly held by the mud so she doesn't move very much. "I must be back sometime around supper or shortly thereafter. Otherwise he might not believe the reason for my absence from him today."
"Very well," J'lor agrees quietly, either to Miniyal's place to say or to her time restrictions. "Then perhaps, if you and Diya wish to converse? And then, when you have said what you both wish to say, if you might be willing to share with me this message you've brought, Miniyal? I admit that you have my curiosity."
Diya inclines her head in return to Miniyal. "At least one," she agrees. Humor weaves through her voice, but it's dry. Her arms drop down, leaving her hands to dangle easily at her sides. It would seem she's ready to walk, if necessary, though she makes no move yet. Her blue eyes flick between Miniyal and J'lor, waiting for that exchange to finish.
Issa takes a single, squishing step backward while she waits, physically pulling herself out of the decision if her downcast eyes and lightly pursed lips didn't speak loud enough. Miniyal wanted to come and initiate this meeting. And now she's here. Have at it.
Miniyal nearly smiles at J'lor, but it's just a slight twitch of her lips that doesn't quite make it into anything but that. "I am sure Diya and Issa will appreciate the chance to catch up as well so I hope they will not mind when I lay your curiosity to rest." Then her attention shifts towards Diya and she doesn't even nearly smile. Instead she glances away from the woman almost as quickly as she looks towards her. However, if everyone else seems amenable to it she will gesture vaguely and inform the former weyrwoman, "I shall follow you, ma'am." In the mud which she now begins to free her feet from. The hand not holding her case gathers up the hem of her skirt so she might spare it some of the splattering it will likely receive. It seems her statement regarding the greenrider and her mentor is the only recognition she will receive right now.
"One can only hope," J'lor murmurs. But it seems that he is the one to be left alone with Issa just now and so he glances towards that dark-haired woman with a single upraised brow. So. Well then. Hum.
Mud and grass. Grass and mud. There is not so much to study, but after a bit of chatter with Issa, that is what J'lor has been observing. The advantage to being a dragonrider is that one has a mudless perch that travels with. It is on Vellath's bent leg that the bluerider sits, hands on his knees, muddy feet dangling a foot above the gook.
Whatever the result of her talk with Diya, there is no indication on Miniyal's face. If it went poorly no one here gets to know and she'll leave it to the man awaiting her back at the weyr to help her settle things in her own mind. There is also, of course, no give away if things went well. Instead she returns with a neutral expression and waits until Issa is on her own walk or what have you with Diya before she speaks. Her first words as she comes to a stop near where J'lor has found freedom from mud are simple. "I don't trust them."
The bluerider looks up as Miniyal returns, his attention on her even as he struggles to keep that from being obvious. As she arrives, he scoots to the left and holds one hand down in invitation for her to join him on his living perch. "There are so very many 'thems' in this world, Miniyal, that I fear you shall have to clarify your statement."
A shake of her head at the hand, she seems content to stand in the mud. "Diya. . .Issa. I don't trust them. Diya has always had her own agenda. But I suppose you don't need to be told that." Miniyal pauses here and looks off where the other two went. "And Issa her own as well as what she does for Diya. Which is why I have to ask you what I must without them present. But I should be honest with you first. . .so you can decide if you wish to give me some trust in this issue. I would not have you make a decision without all the information."
"I suppose she does," J'lor agrees quietly. "I cannot imagine she came here for the rainstorms," he chuckles. "But in some ways Diya is tied to us now, and that is not nothing. Nor is it everything but...it is what I have to be hopeful about. Issa...you know her better than I and whatever it is she intends, she risks much by coming here. I believe, that for now, her plans and mine coincide. And as you have risked the same, I extend to you the same trust." His lips twitch. "But you cannot give a boy a wrapped box and then ask him to promise things before he opens it. He'll make himself believe whatever you like so he can get his present."
"It's your choice, of course, whom you trust." Miniyal is resigned to this and perhaps came expecting just that. "However, I would appreciate it if you would not speak to Diya about what I will tell you. Because I am not sure it is wise yet." The case switches hands, for an unneeded prop she pays it a lot of attention. "I have an association which might or might not determine how much you wish to believe me. Not that it has any bearing on what I say other than it is through this association that I am able to do some of what I do. You know High Reaches former weyrleader G'thon." It is not a question. Nor does she explain further other than to glance down not at the case in her hand, but at the ring on her finger that she has played with now and again since she arrived here. The question of risk is left uncommented on. It seems she feels no need to do so.
"Yes," is J'lor's soft reply, his head ducking downward, chin tipping towards his chest. But his dark eyes slip to that ring. "I see," he says quietly. She shifts his weight, the top of one foot rubbing against the bottom of the other and sending drying chips of mud flaking back to the ground. The only other thing he adds is, "I will not tell Diya."
Her head nods then and Miniyal glances upwards at the sky briefly before she looks back at the bluerider. "Then it is your choice with that knowledge on if you wish to extend trust to me. If you do not then I have merely had a chance to get away for the day and leave Issa wondering what my real reason might have been for coming here. It will do her good." All of that out of the way she lets out a quiet sigh. "Your rider who was held at Telgar. Will she come forward and register a complaint to Harper do you think?"
"Harper?" That, more than anything else catches J'lor off guard and his question is a stuttered laugh. "Is Harper interested in defending wronged criminals now?" he asks a touch bitterly.
"Harper is aware of what has happened. And the Masterharper has given me options on how to proceed. The first is for the rider in question to make complaint. He requires a victim before he will move forward. The other option. . .makes what happened less the focus of the investigation." Biting her lip, Miniyal lets out another little sigh. "Considering your actions with Aivey and giving E'sere a place to hide I think you should not be so picky on where your help comes from. Past issues with Harper, I recommend, be laid to rest for now. However, if you do not care to assist with your daughter's effort to remove S'lien from power I will not waste any more of your time, sir."
His brows draw downward and his hand comes up, palm covering his mouth and fingers rubbing against his jaw, up and down, as he listens. "I had my reasons," J'lor says simply in regards to E'sere and Aivey, and then his hand falls into his lap. "I could speak with her. I know she has no interest in returning to the mainland, and I am sure you can imagine why. I would not send her alone, and I would need some sort of assurance that what happened to her before could not happen again. I would see..." Stop. Blink. "She..." he clears his throat, the hand that was at his jaw splaying wide across his knee. "I'll speak to Cassiel, but it has to be her decision."
She is not crafty enough to have planned that mention when she did. Nope, not Miniyal. That would imply she has been learning about emotional manipulation and blackmail. Which she finds terribly wrong and would never do. She's so innocent. "I might know a place we might all meet without there being risk. However, with Tialith due to clutch. . .I shall have to find someone. . .Issa might do. I will need to think on it. If the place I have in mind does not work. . .Well, I shall come up with another. I am not sure how to arrange such a message however to know if she is willing." Shaking her head she pushes wisps of hair away from her face where they escaped the braid she chose today to confine her hair. "If she will not there is another way. But her testimony would help. You should know, as well, should things go completely wrong I do /not/ work for your daughter anymore. Are we clear on that? I am here of my own accord."
"Yes, I, you said that before," J'lor murmurs as he studies the girl in the mud. "Perhaps Issa can come again or we'll...I'll find a way to get word to you, when I know what she's willing to do. That you are tied to...Gans...may make things more difficult. But he is not...I am sorry. I heard of his loss. Thank you for trying to arrange this, Miniyal. And for helping her." Pause. "Of your own accord."
"He does not know what I do. Not entirely. But the arrangement between us does not allow for me to keep everything from him. And it is through his friendship with those I might not otherwise be able to reach that I do some of what I can." She does smile then, when speaking about her lover although it fades away when the condolences are given. Miniyal lets out a quiet sigh and a nod of her head. "He is not the man he was before." Talk about understatement. "However, I do trust him. Your daughter does not trust me. Something else I suppose you should be aware of."
This one is easy. And, if his own smile suggests anything, painful. "She does not trust me, either," J'lor replies very quietly. "I am willing to extend what she does not."
Miniyal nods her head once. "I imagine she has good reason not to trust me. I'm not very trustworthy in some areas. But once I have given my word I keep it and I do not lie, sir." Why doesn't his daughter trust her? Well, for reasons like this. He is considered for several silent moments before she nods once more. "It is hard to do what I do and earn trust I suppose. I am useful to certain people because of what I can do and yet those same people find it cause to distrust me." Carefully, so nothing falls out into the mud she opens her case and withdraws a small set of hides, loosely bound together. Once the case is closed once more she holds them out after stepping close enough to make it easy to reach.
He listens, but offers nothing for hearing all of those words save for his dark-eyed interest aand silent attention. It is not until after Miniyal quiets that he speaks. "It's just J'lor. No 'sir'." The bluerider extends one hand, curling it around the bound hides and gently drawing them closer so that he might peer down at this offering.
"I'm sorry. J'lor, then." Miniyal will call him what he wishes and be unbothered by it. The hides are a detailed, if not invasively so, history of Roa at High Reaches. From before she had even met Miniyal. Not that she would have trouble finding things out after the fact. Covering anything of import and any little notes that she, devoted daughter, would feel a father should know. "I would appreciate it, J'lor, if she never finds out about this. I imagine she would try to lecture me again and I've rather had enough of that." Her tone is calm and neutral as she states this although she finds herself staring at the sky once more.
His eyes widen and there's a sort of strangled and choked noise that the bluerider makes as he skims over the first hide and then flips through the rest. "This is...you do have talents don't you, my dear," he murmurs very quietly. "I won't tell. I don't think she'd speak with me long enough that I could, even if I wished it. I...you offer me so much and I find I would like to ask you for one thing more. Would you forgive me the imposition?"
The trick to acquiring people who owe you favors is that sometimes you have to give them a lot in the beginning. Eventually it will even out and then down the line you are in a position to get what you want. Miniyal has learned this through trial and error and so she merely inclines her head a fraction of an inch and smiles lightly. "I offer only what I feel is right, sir. For all I feel that the methods your group used were. . .incorrect, I do not agree with the treatment you received." Torture, exile, turned into history's villains. She could mean any or all of that. "I make no promises I can or will do what you ask. But I would not stop you from asking."
"They were incorrect," J'lor agrees. "I would undo it if I could. I would change many things, if I could." It's a bit like selling drugs, isn't it. The first one, the best one, is free. But J'lor is rather oblivious to either form of 'negotiation' and so he simply says, "Thank you. I...presume if you worked for Roa then you know Ashwin? And I thought, perhaps, if you knew Ashwin, you might have met Lorna? And so I wondered if you knew, perhaps, how she was adjusting?"
"If we had more time I would enjoy speaking on that with you. Where you went wrong and what you would do different. It would make an interesting addition to the records at the weyr. Perhaps another day." Miniyal dismisses her desire for his history with a shrug, but she wants it and it shows in her eyes and somewhat in her voice. History addict. No, knowledge addict. "I have met Lorna. We have spoken some although I do not see her often. I believe she is adjusting well. It was rough at the beginning, but I imagine it would be in any such situation. However, she has managed to not draw undue attention to herself." And if anyone would know it' be the sneaky one.
He draws a slow breath in through his nose and nods, once. "Thank you," J'lor says, his warm tenor rolling low. "I had hoped for something like that. And if there is time, if you do come back, we shall speak on anything you like."
"Roa and Ashwin will take good care of her, sir. Excuse me, J'lor." Miniyal grins and waves her free hand a bit, dismissing her error. "I would appreciate that. To hear what you say. It would be. . ." She trains off here and then smiles again although it's slightly more sly than it has been since they arrived. "It would help you, I think. To show people you are not what you used to be. Even in light of some of what you have done. It might make what will come next easier." And it would give her what she wanted. Such a coup too, in certain circles, if she were able to get this interview. Shaking her head she sighs once more. "Well, someday. One way or another. Would you like me to tell her anything? When I speak to her next. She is already usually upset with me so I've nothing to fear in that regard by passing something along."
"I am not sure I ever was what people claim I used to be," J'lor notes as he, too, glances skywards. "I am not sure, now, that I am any better than they think I am. You seem to be a seeker of truth, so I ask that you understand that. I don't know what I am, but I will answer your questions, when you have them." He studies Miniyal a moment, considerng this opportunity. "Just...that I love her. I've thought about her every day for eleven turns. I'm proud of her. And if you see Lorna, if you might just tell her that I'm so sorry." His head ducks down for that one. "And tell Ashwin...just that I was glad to know him. It was an honor. And not to let Jensen carry so much. And that..." the small smile turns sheepish, "is far more than you offered to do."
"I will inform them all of your words. Don't worry, J'lor. I am quite used to carrying messages. I've spent most of my life doing just that for one person or another. It is another talent I have." Miniyal wrinkles her nose for a moment and then she smiles. "I think if she hated you she would not be so upset. . .I imagine she just needs to work things out in her head." Roa she means, although she does not specify so he might take it how he will. "Seeking the truth usually gets me in trouble, but it's hard to resist." Perhaps she would say something else, but a noise behind her causes her head to turn and when she sees Diya and Issa reappear she shrugs. "I think our time is up. Thank you again, J'lor. I cannot offer true assurances, I think. Not and be honest. But I give you my word on these things: S'lien will pay for what he did. I will do everything I can to insure Cassiel is safe should she come forward no matter the cost to me. And. . ." Another pause and she reaches out to lay her hand on his arm briefly. "I will do what I can to get Roa past what stops her from showing you how she cares." She'll say nothing else until the others arrive although if he wishes his own farewell before then he has a few moments more.
The bluerider's own fingers lift to curl around the hand Miniyal settles on his arm. "I'd like to speak with her one day. Just a chance. Just that. Thank you, Miniyal. Keep yourself safe. Your Gans is lucky to have found you." His hand moves away and then he watches as Miniyal returns to her transport. He scrambles aboard his own dragon, moving from forearm to neckridge. He lifts his hand in awave before Vellath takes to the sky again, coasting back to the main beach.
Where: A very wet island.
When: Late morning, early afternoon (island time) on day 24, month 1, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
What: Issa makes good on her deal with Miniyal and takes her to see Diya. Miniyal has other reasons for wanting to go that she makes clear while there.
Note: There is more to this. Stay tuned for the Diya and Min talk. And the Diya and Issa talk. And quite possible the Issa and J'lor talk. One never knows! But I give what we have for now and will add links to what comes later for the full day picture.
1/15/2007
On the exiles' island, it is 11:43 on day 24, month 1, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
Departing from the snow-filled skies over High Reaches after the dinner hours have waned, Oshisyth and her passengers blink into between over the tropical tableau of tiny islands when the morning is just dragging into noon. Though that distinction might be hard to make, seeing as heavy clouds block out both mainland and ocean skies and prevent one from noting the position of the sun. Apart from the sight, the temperature marks this location as wholly different, the air weighted with the sticky humidity of the rainy season, though no raindrops can be felt at the moment. The initial descent is swift, Oshsisyth pulling in her electric green wings and directing their swoop to one of the smaller islands bisected with a thin ribbon of water. >>We are back.<< Oshisyth's cheerful voice beams into being suddenly in the minds of two dragons only, shadowed swirls of cloudy grey tempered by a light, feathered touch. >>And we have brought someone.<< This part is a warning, issued to both of them though there is a more tentative feel when the image of Miniyal is presented to Nenuith. >>We are headed to the same place. Join us?<< Oshisyth tapers off her steep angle as they near the island, flying low over treetops until they reach a field filled with tall grass and new patches of mud, the sound of rushing water reaching their ears. Issa dismounts with a jump, her boots quickly sucked into the sludge, and turns to wait for Miniyal, ready to lend an assisting hand should it be necessary.
Miniyal doesn't need assistance or at least will not take it. She scrambles down, graceless as ever, but does so without tripping up on her skirt or dropping the case she carries in her hand. Her writing case, Issa would have been told. Because it is her way of slipping away from her room without questions being asked. The implication being then that a certain caucus instructor does not know where she has come today. There has certainly been no indication she would have told Gans. Yet. . .Well, tomorrow is another day. So, she looks down at the ground first and lets out a sigh. Mud. Then she studies her surroundings curiously. The sky, the trees, the field they stand in. All of it is noted and remembered just in case it might come in handy another time. It's not something she thinks of doing, she just spends time learning her surroundings. Finally she looks back to Issa and offers the other woman a faint smile. "Thank you again. And people complain about the weather at home." Shaking her head she lets out a sigh and peers around once more as if not willing or able to continue looking towards Issa.
After lunch means weyrlings busy with chores, and weyrlings busy with chores means a Weyrlingmaster with a bit of spare time on his hands. J'lor was spending it on the beach, sketching formations into the sand that included significantly more dragons than the original thirty. Vellath dozes nearby, wings fanned out to bask in sunlight that isn't there. But at the summons, his eyes open and his head lifts. His rider tips his chin up as well, a faint smile flicking over his mouth. "Well," he murmurs, "so she is. But who do you suppose..." The bluerider pushes to his feet and scrambles aboard his lifemate. Vellath takes a running leap and wings bear him upwards, along the line of the island's shore and then veering to the little islet where such clandestine meetings have sevrral times now taken place.
Warmth fills Nenuith's response, echoed down that rich alto that models itself on her rider's voice. >> Welcome back, << she says, some of the green's good cheer reflected. She lifts herself up from her wallowing off the island's shores, shadowing her words with the images she sees. She crawls out of the water and shakes herself as Diya, already soaked, wanders out to meet her. >> We are coming, << Nenuith explains then, and cuts the contact. The island's visitors have a few minutes to get acquainted with the place before gold wings heave into sight. The queen flies low, cuts a quick turn overhead, and lands neatly a few paces from her daughter. Her rider slides from her back still dripping ocean water, but with a collected smile on her face all the same.
Issa has prepared for this weather, a fact proven when she strips her thick riding jacket to reveal surprisingly light clothes beneath, a springlike tunic incongruous with her winter pants. "It's not usually this... wet," the greenrider explains, lifting her jacket above the droplet-tipped grass in order to tuck it in against her straps. "Least when I've been here." There's a little wrinkle that forms between her brows for that comment, unexplained. And then, alerted by Oshisyth's raising chirrup and perhaps a more mental cue, Issa turns her eyes to the sky to watch the other dragons land. She spares only a quick and businesslike nod for J'lor before turning to her former weyrwoman and mentor. "We don't have much time," she comments with a sly little smile spared for Diya alone once she reaches an easy conversational distance, "but we could have given you the time to dry a bit."
Having seen Diya in the past, spoken with her, known her, worked for her, she is not the focus of Miniyal's attention. That honor is reserved for J'lor and it comes with it a slight tightening of her fingers on the handle of her writing case. Also, she does not have any lingering worry about him. Not the way she does with the former weyrwoman and it is with that in her eyes that she turns to look at Diya. Indirectly as she does not seem willing to meet the older woman's eyes. "Diya," is offered softly. "It is good to see you again." Yes, isn't it just. Then she turns back to J'lor and nods once. "J'lor. It is nice to meet you. I've read quite a bit about you. I suppose I am a bit disappointed you've no fangs or the like. . .yet another historical myth proven wrong." If she is teasing it is hard to tell. She might be, but she sounds so serious.
Vellath settles into the mud with a squelch and a softer version of the same noise is echoed when his rider slides down his neck. Flecks of mud splatter the lower portions of his pants on contact and while there is a faint wrinkling of his nose, there's no other comment about the muck as the bluerider makes his way over to Issa and her passenger. The courteous nod the greenrider gives is returned with a small one of his own, and then his attention shifts to Miniyal, and one dark brow arches upwards in an expression that Roa often wears. "Have you?" His voice is low and warm. "They say my eyes glow in the dark as well, but I suppose, at is it light, you will have to decide for yourself the truth of that one. Well met..." and then he pauses and waits for the woman to complete his statement with her name.
Water has soaked Diya's curls into straight lines, giving her face an even longer look than usual. Her smile lifts sadness out of it, but she does seem older than she ought. "What dry? This weather doesn't let me dry." She lifts a hand to gesture vaguely at the sky, looming clouds and dripping trees wrapped up in one smooth motion. She draws near the two visitors, picking her way carefully through the unpleasant mud in her feet, and greets Issa first with a hand that comes down to her shoulder and draws her in for a swift hug. For Miniyal, she restrains the familiarity, placing a hand gently on the young woman's shoulder when her name is spoken. It gives a gentle squeeze. "Miniyal," she says, a greeting and an answer for J'lor at the same time. She reclaims her hand to brush wet hair back behind her ears.
Issa lets out a short little laugh for Diya as she steps into that hug easily, the sound more delight at seeing the rogue goldrider again rather than simple amusement for the weather joke. Soon after, her expression smoothes down from cheer, her smile dimmed to a more polite level as the greetings and introductions proceed. "I've come mostly for Miniyal's agenda, this time," she notes to J'lor once Diya has provided the name for the bluerider, a glance stolen at the newcomer as if a prompt. She continues, however. "As well as to bring news from the mainland. Of course. Though I'm sure she can enlighten you just as well as I can." This time there's no significant glance to Miniyal, just a quick nod to J'lor before she crosses her arms across her chest and settles back to let her passenger take the floor.
"I need to know if you are mad at me." A selfish reason then for taking this risk. For asking another to take this risk. But Miniyal states this firmly and with a brief meeting of Diya's eyes. One that didn't even come close to happening when the older woman touched her shoulder. "Because you left and I did not have a chance to. . .to make sure you knew what had happened." For whatever reason this has become important to Miniyal it seems. Not enough that she cannot cast a glance towards J'lor again and very nearly smile. "That's not nearly as interesting as fangs and claws. I suppose if those two are not true I shall have to accept the eyes as lie as well." There is a pause, barely noticeable. Then she nods once more. "And I've a private message for you, sir." Assumptions may be made by the group in general for she does not explain further. News from the mainland she does not offer yet. Their time may be limited, but she will not rush into things. . .for once. For now.
"Miniyal." The bluerider's smile is far less absent, and it spreads until white teeth are showing. Arms moving out to his sides, he offers Miniyal is sort of courtly bow for her deductions on glowing eyes and fangs and the like. "I shall endeavor to find some other way to intrigue you then, my dear." He straightens, intrest flashing in his dark gaze as he looks from Miniyal to Issa to Diya and around again. "News, as you well know, is something we lack here." Which is, perhaps, one of the mainlanders' cues to start spilling.
Diya's brows arch upwards. Paused at first by Miniyal's bold words, her smile comes back in a shadow. "The short answer is no, I am not. The long answer, may have to wait a moment." Pulling her smile higher, she shares it around the circle, pausing longest on Issa. "News from the mainland," she prompts gently. She turns her head up to Nenuith, to find the queen shuffling around in search of a firm, dry spot to stand where she won't undo all the good her wallowing has done her. "I hear you have a new Weyrwoman." She turns away from her dragon, folding her long arms over her chest while she waits for confirmation.
All that Miniyal says seems to put a little more strain on the smile that remains firm on Issa's face, her pale eyes intent on her while she speaks. But while J'lor's hinting prompt doesn't have the power to distract her from watching the nonrider, Diya's repetition pulls her away from it. "Right," she says, alternating her gaze between the islanders again, "We do. Tialith flew, Ruvoth caught. Roa and R'vain are our new Weyrleaders. I haven't had a chance to poke around for harder information, yet, but the change doesn't seem to have affected the decision set by the Weyr Council to leave the islands untouched for now." Her eyes sneak back to her fellow mainlander, a check, perhaps, to see if her sneaking has provided her with something to add on that subject.
The short answer doesn't release the tension in Miniyal's shoulders. It does not lessen the worry in her eyes. If she feels that her own concerns are being pushed aside for that which is deemed more important she keeps it to herself. The only thing she does is glance away from everyone and look out once more on the island they stand on. This allows her to quite miss Issa's glance. Yep. However, she did not come here to play the wallflower and so she pulls her attention back towards those present. "If any other decision has been made I am not aware of it." Why it might be expected she, of all people, would know anything. . .well, there's a mystery. "I might have heard otherwise by now if that were so, but my avenues of information are not so good outside the weyr as in." Well, Diya knows she is sneaky somewhat so nothing given away there. Poor J'lor is allowed to infer what he will.
Poor J'lor again lifts one eyebrow, though this is at the statement of leadership. "R'vain?" he murmurs quietly. "That could be..." but what it 'could be' is not shared. Rather he glances again to Miniyal and then, more specifically, to the case she carries. The next question is directed to Issa. "Did she send you here? Or do you come on your own?"
Watchful blue eyes follow Miniyal while Issa speaks, taking advantage of the distraction worry gives her to analyze her features. "I would be more reassured if we knew the Council planned something." She moves back to the conversation, an active spark lighting her eyes. "It's never been an efficient group, but I don't trust this doing nothing." Both Miniyal and Issa get treated to a lingering pause with brows raised, pointedly it seems, but without explanation. In the next instant she waves off the impression with an easy sweep of her hand. She has already absorbed the news about R'vain and Roa, but the news did not shake her. For now, she leaves it with the nod she gave and the bluerider's musings.
For Miniyal's addition, Issa merely nods, slow and smooth before turning back to the other two. She uncrosses her arms and gives the front of her tunic a little shake to battle the sticking humidity when her attention falls on J'lor. "Mmm," she hums through closed lips, her cynical-sounding commentary on exactly what R'vain could be. "No. No, she's still under the impression that I've sworn off coming here." The statement is mischief-free, delivered matter-of-factly instead. And while it's being delivered just so, her gaze has switched to Diya, quietly absorbing the goldrider's reaction to the new developments. "As would I," she agrees softly then sets in to shaking her head. "But, if they do have plans, they've kept them secret; I wasn't able to learn anything of their decisions except the restrictions put on mainland travel."
Miniyal sees the glance to her case and offers a faint smile and nod of her head to J'lor. "Ah, right. In order to appear as if I was not planning something I shouldn't I was required to bring along my writing case. It is the best way for me to slip away from Gans without arousing suspicion." There is the briefest of pauses, an almost glance to Diya, when she realises that she mentioned the former weyrleader. J'lor is not expected to make the connection, most likely, between the nickname and the former leader of High Reaches. But Diya might and so she gets that covert glance and if there is a nervous twisting of her ring as she shifts her case from one hand to the other, well, nothing to worry about, folks. "If the council plans to act they do not plan to do so officially with all in attendance as neither Roa or R'vain have been seen doing more than what one might expect two newly to authority to do. Neither have they received any visitors that would indicate correspondence is going on. Or if they have it is a better kept secret than I can discover." Another pause here and she tips her head to one side, thoughtful. "There is no reason for Roa to know we have come here. If anything it would be a disadvantage to her at this juncture. Until it can be determined how well Tialith will keep secrets from Ruvoth. . .well. It's best if she not know everything that is going on. R'vain is not to be trusted to keep his mouth shut." Just a wee touch of bitterness in her tone. A tiny, wee, barely noticeable bit.
The bluerider looks again between Issa and Miniyal, a faint frown drawing down his brows and causing a crease to appear between them. There is a faint and distracted nod as Miniyal explaisn about her case and her Gans, but no suggestion that the name means anything more than a presumed lover or husband or somesuch. Still, after all of that talk of Weyr Councils and plotting and secrets, all he can think to ask is, "Neither of you approve of him, then?"
Diya's watchful gaze returns to Miniyal swiftly when she names Gans. Even in a nickname, she recognizes him. She leaves her curiosity unguarded, a thin smile pushing at her lips while her eyebrows lift in silent query, yet seems reserved somehow. Otherwise, she restrains her response to tiny nods offered at appropriate intervals, some of them passing for encouragement and others for acceptance of the information given. "No, perhaps he is not," she contributes quietly, rounding off Miniyal's statement with her own words. Bereft of bitterness, still, one could say there's a dry note in them.
"I don't," Issa confirms quickly for J'lor, with a fleeting increase in her smile. "But Roa has faith in him. And it looks as if she's taking control." For mention of Gans, the greenrider spares not a blink of an eye; that is strictly Miniyal's mess. And she is busy dealing with a mess of her own, shifting her feet in the muck to what is perceived to be a drier spot. Behind her, her dragon also shifts, Oshisyth's talons digging deeper into the mud where she stands while her rider extricates herself. The green's head is wrapped around toward her dam, but her sparking green eyes are focused on the gathering of people as they speak.
"I wouldn't say that exactly." Miniyal, honest to a fault. So when asked directly she must answer without lie. "Well, I would not say that for myself. I just. . .he has yet to prove himself to be trustworthy or anything more than he appears. But I believe he was the best choice. He is what the weyr needs right now. . .which is a horrid thing to say about us I suppose. However, it could have been worse." Her words of faint praise, so very faint, are grudgingly given. "Roa needs someone with experience to. . .temper her enthusiasms." It is not, perhaps, as politic a statement as she should have given. Certainly Gans would likely cringe at it at least inwardly as it reveals more than it tempts to be revealed. There is no attempt to look at Diya again. Not since she has slipped up. She would be, it seems, in no hurry to make known her relationship with that man. Not to anyone here. Which also means she doesn't quite look at Issa either since she is the other one here who might give up her secret.
"He was...I never had the opportunity to sit down with the man, but some of his ideals were admirable. He was wild. Reckless. I am, just a little bit, surprised that he's still alive. And I suppose, if she believes in him...perhaps that is something?" But he seems to be asking, rather than stating a fact. Then Issa's words get his attention. "She's taking control? What do you mean? Do you suppose...I mean do you think..." But the bluerider doesn't quite dare. Rather, his hands push into his pockets and he settles into a thoughtful silence as he examines the mud squelching up between his toes.
The mud seems to be a distraction for everyone just now. Diya passes a glance to the bluerider next to her, but the squelching sound brings her interest downwards. Crooking a small smile for the indulgence, the goldrider lifts her own feet and lets the bottoms of them brush cool wet mud on her shins. She has that luxury, here, of not remaining proper all the time. "They work together, or they struggle to control each other?" she asks. Her leg drops down into the mud again, but none of the little splashes from her movement get near the two Reachian visitors. Diya has that much caution for their sakes.
One of Issa's thin eyebrows arch upward and she repeats, "Do I think?" with a lurking sense of amusement to accompny the prompt. But it's with that same small smile she continues to elaborate. "I mean that I have noticed his decisions being influenced by her already. And, soon as it is," here she offers a slight nod to Diya, "I haven't seen the same influence of him in her actions." Her pale gaze slides sideways to Miniyal when she adds, the pronouns lightly stressed, "I would say right now that the control is at least a bit unbalanced in her favor."
It is so very hard for Miniyal to not speak out every thought. So /very/ hard. So she must be forgiven sometimes when one slips through. "She believes too easily." Oh, look. The sky. How interesting it is when she tilts her head so she might gaze up at it and not pay attention to anything else. Nope. There is no socially, physically awkward young woman here who brought this whole meeting about. The writing case switches hands once more. Once more in the process she touches the ring she wears. The mud is a non-issue for her it seems. The fact it finds ways to cling to the hem of her skirt every time she moves doesn't seem to register. If she has not planned on mud in her cover story, whatever it might be, she will simply do so before returning home. Miniyal: facilitator of meetings, if not active participant right now. Even Issa's look earns no response. None.
The island's Weyrlingmaster tips his head down, biting his inner cheek to fight away the smile that wants to peek through at Issa's statements that it is Roa that seems to be leading. "How can you tell?" he asks after clearing his throat. "What decisions have been made that leads you to think such?" For Miniyal's comment, she gets the attention of J'lor's klah-dark eyes, but if some might be put out by her assessment, the bluerider only grins for the moment it takes to force his facial muscles back into a thoughtful and neutal expression. Small mud bubbles rise and pop as his toes curl into the ooze more deeply.
The sparkle of amusement comes more readily to Diya's eyes now that she's become reacquainted with Miniyal's frank nature, and it lies in wait for the young woman's return once she's had enough of noticing pretty skies. Diya keeps her head tipped towards Issa and J'lor, visibly tuning her ears to their conversation without interfering in it.
Issa has learned well from her mentor, adapting Diya's habit to her own uses; though her face is tucked down, directed at the mud seeping over the soles of her boots, her eyes peek up to watch J'lor's face and that stifled smile. "Only a few things, so far," she answers, finally turning her face to follow her gaze, "but they're noticeable. He goes along with her attempts to connect to the caverns people of the weyr. He's convinced our new traditionalist Weyrlingmaster to consider taking on greenriding assistants." She shoots a glance toward Diya for that, marked by a lopsided quirking of her lips, the look significant even with its fleeting nature. "Which I somehow doubt was cooked up in R'vain's head." Her voice loosens to allow for a wry twist in her tone, suggesting that it's a sound hunch, if only just a hunch.
The mud is not fought anymore than she might fight anything else and so Miniyal sinks down into it without thought. Surely she notices, but there is no attempt to free herself from it. There is no use as it will just win again. A losing battle so best to give in right away and move on. When her attention does drift back to those she stands with in the mud her gaze rests first on Diya. From there it travels although eventually it rests on the sky once more. Watching it as if she doesn't trust it. "He's feeling her out. Finding out what she thinks is important so he knows what leverage he'll have later. I assume she is doing the same. Whether either is aware enough to realise the other does it. . .That I cannot say. It's only a matter of time until they are not getting along. The interesting thing to observe will be how long it takes them to overcome that first hurdle." Interesting, yes, that's the right word. She considers a moment and then shrugs her shoulders. "I would not be so sure of what was his and what was hers. He is. . .not quite what he always appears." Again with grudgingly given near praise for the weyrleader.
Well, drat. J'lor had just managed to look solemn and introspective when Issa began listing the things the new weyrwoman was concocting and he, too, must again study his toes as the smile takes over. "I, ah, I see," he attempts to say gruffly, but it mostly just comes out tickled. Miniyal's words have the needed effect, however, the grin dimming as the happenings are painted in a different light. He lifts his gaze, studies her, and nods once. The last few lines, the almost-suggestion has the bluerider's head canting to the side. But, there is only another small nod.
Diya's eyes swing back to Issa when she mentions greenriding assistants, the idea queried as soon as it's spoken with a small sideways tilt of her head. A smile of her own greets that lopsided one and brings her head back to an even keel. She sneaks a hand out to Issa's elbow for an encouraging squeeze, though it's short-lived as the smile that conveyed the tidbit. Diya already has arms crossed again when Miniyal assesses the situation, but she watches the bluerider for most of the young woman's words. "R'vain has often been surprising, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse." She draws her deep blue gaze back to Miniyal as she speaks, moving with slow grace despite the mud on her legs and water still dripping from her hair. "You know their habits well," she remarks, with the start of a new smile quivering on her lips.
Miniyal's speaking again? Issa turns to pay attention to her contribution, arms crossing tightly about her midsection again while she listens. "Maybe my observations are mistaken, then," she concedes quickly, smile kept light though her tone firms subtly to undercut it. "But, at the very least, they are working together. For now, as Miniyal says." And that transfers the spotlight back to Miniyal herself, Issa's eyes focusing on the woman as she nods faintly along with Diya's comments.
"I worked for Roa for a time." Miniyal allows this to be known with a shrug of her shoulders. "Although she finds my methods. . .not to her liking so I no longer do." There is no shrug for this, she has already shrugged after all. Instead she switches her case to her other hand again. "And I've lived at the weyr all my life. It is hard not to know R'vain and to figure out enough about him. One just has to pay attention and they learn plenty about everyone. However, I did not say you were mistaken, Issa. I merely said you might want to consider all the evidence before you conclude anything." She looks at no one as she speaks, that might give something away. Instead she studies her case as if it might give away what she should or should not say.
"Did you?" These words come from the bluerider and on Miniyal's confession of working for Roa. "What did..." but he stops, drags his attention away and over to Issa. "How much time can you manage, before you must return?"
There goes the smile, arching straight up Diya's features. The following revelation, that Miniyal has already stopped working for Roa, brings another pause over that smile. It returns gentled, but it returns. She flicks a glance to J'lor, briefly inclining her head when he interrupts himself. "A while longer, I would hope." Her eyes begin with Issa and move on to Miniyal. "For longer answers." The pause at her assistants now rolls on to complete the circle, returning to the bluerider with an uplifted smile.
"Miniyal's managing our alibi," Issa answers J'lor's question without separating her gaze from Miniyal. But there's a reason for that intentness, because she then asks of the woman, "How much time does it give us, do you think?"
"I did." Answer to J'lor first and it is ended with a more quiet, "It's not my place to say." As if it were not her fired, but Miniyal won't discuss her termination. Instead she inclines her head a fraction to Diya. "At least one longer would be appreciated, ma'am. Considering the lengths I have gone to in order to try to get it." And now, Issa. She certainly has had to talk a lot. Well, so be it. She shifts her position some, feet still firmly held by the mud so she doesn't move very much. "I must be back sometime around supper or shortly thereafter. Otherwise he might not believe the reason for my absence from him today."
"Very well," J'lor agrees quietly, either to Miniyal's place to say or to her time restrictions. "Then perhaps, if you and Diya wish to converse? And then, when you have said what you both wish to say, if you might be willing to share with me this message you've brought, Miniyal? I admit that you have my curiosity."
Diya inclines her head in return to Miniyal. "At least one," she agrees. Humor weaves through her voice, but it's dry. Her arms drop down, leaving her hands to dangle easily at her sides. It would seem she's ready to walk, if necessary, though she makes no move yet. Her blue eyes flick between Miniyal and J'lor, waiting for that exchange to finish.
Issa takes a single, squishing step backward while she waits, physically pulling herself out of the decision if her downcast eyes and lightly pursed lips didn't speak loud enough. Miniyal wanted to come and initiate this meeting. And now she's here. Have at it.
Miniyal nearly smiles at J'lor, but it's just a slight twitch of her lips that doesn't quite make it into anything but that. "I am sure Diya and Issa will appreciate the chance to catch up as well so I hope they will not mind when I lay your curiosity to rest." Then her attention shifts towards Diya and she doesn't even nearly smile. Instead she glances away from the woman almost as quickly as she looks towards her. However, if everyone else seems amenable to it she will gesture vaguely and inform the former weyrwoman, "I shall follow you, ma'am." In the mud which she now begins to free her feet from. The hand not holding her case gathers up the hem of her skirt so she might spare it some of the splattering it will likely receive. It seems her statement regarding the greenrider and her mentor is the only recognition she will receive right now.
"One can only hope," J'lor murmurs. But it seems that he is the one to be left alone with Issa just now and so he glances towards that dark-haired woman with a single upraised brow. So. Well then. Hum.
Mud and grass. Grass and mud. There is not so much to study, but after a bit of chatter with Issa, that is what J'lor has been observing. The advantage to being a dragonrider is that one has a mudless perch that travels with. It is on Vellath's bent leg that the bluerider sits, hands on his knees, muddy feet dangling a foot above the gook.
Whatever the result of her talk with Diya, there is no indication on Miniyal's face. If it went poorly no one here gets to know and she'll leave it to the man awaiting her back at the weyr to help her settle things in her own mind. There is also, of course, no give away if things went well. Instead she returns with a neutral expression and waits until Issa is on her own walk or what have you with Diya before she speaks. Her first words as she comes to a stop near where J'lor has found freedom from mud are simple. "I don't trust them."
The bluerider looks up as Miniyal returns, his attention on her even as he struggles to keep that from being obvious. As she arrives, he scoots to the left and holds one hand down in invitation for her to join him on his living perch. "There are so very many 'thems' in this world, Miniyal, that I fear you shall have to clarify your statement."
A shake of her head at the hand, she seems content to stand in the mud. "Diya. . .Issa. I don't trust them. Diya has always had her own agenda. But I suppose you don't need to be told that." Miniyal pauses here and looks off where the other two went. "And Issa her own as well as what she does for Diya. Which is why I have to ask you what I must without them present. But I should be honest with you first. . .so you can decide if you wish to give me some trust in this issue. I would not have you make a decision without all the information."
"I suppose she does," J'lor agrees quietly. "I cannot imagine she came here for the rainstorms," he chuckles. "But in some ways Diya is tied to us now, and that is not nothing. Nor is it everything but...it is what I have to be hopeful about. Issa...you know her better than I and whatever it is she intends, she risks much by coming here. I believe, that for now, her plans and mine coincide. And as you have risked the same, I extend to you the same trust." His lips twitch. "But you cannot give a boy a wrapped box and then ask him to promise things before he opens it. He'll make himself believe whatever you like so he can get his present."
"It's your choice, of course, whom you trust." Miniyal is resigned to this and perhaps came expecting just that. "However, I would appreciate it if you would not speak to Diya about what I will tell you. Because I am not sure it is wise yet." The case switches hands, for an unneeded prop she pays it a lot of attention. "I have an association which might or might not determine how much you wish to believe me. Not that it has any bearing on what I say other than it is through this association that I am able to do some of what I do. You know High Reaches former weyrleader G'thon." It is not a question. Nor does she explain further other than to glance down not at the case in her hand, but at the ring on her finger that she has played with now and again since she arrived here. The question of risk is left uncommented on. It seems she feels no need to do so.
"Yes," is J'lor's soft reply, his head ducking downward, chin tipping towards his chest. But his dark eyes slip to that ring. "I see," he says quietly. She shifts his weight, the top of one foot rubbing against the bottom of the other and sending drying chips of mud flaking back to the ground. The only other thing he adds is, "I will not tell Diya."
Her head nods then and Miniyal glances upwards at the sky briefly before she looks back at the bluerider. "Then it is your choice with that knowledge on if you wish to extend trust to me. If you do not then I have merely had a chance to get away for the day and leave Issa wondering what my real reason might have been for coming here. It will do her good." All of that out of the way she lets out a quiet sigh. "Your rider who was held at Telgar. Will she come forward and register a complaint to Harper do you think?"
"Harper?" That, more than anything else catches J'lor off guard and his question is a stuttered laugh. "Is Harper interested in defending wronged criminals now?" he asks a touch bitterly.
"Harper is aware of what has happened. And the Masterharper has given me options on how to proceed. The first is for the rider in question to make complaint. He requires a victim before he will move forward. The other option. . .makes what happened less the focus of the investigation." Biting her lip, Miniyal lets out another little sigh. "Considering your actions with Aivey and giving E'sere a place to hide I think you should not be so picky on where your help comes from. Past issues with Harper, I recommend, be laid to rest for now. However, if you do not care to assist with your daughter's effort to remove S'lien from power I will not waste any more of your time, sir."
His brows draw downward and his hand comes up, palm covering his mouth and fingers rubbing against his jaw, up and down, as he listens. "I had my reasons," J'lor says simply in regards to E'sere and Aivey, and then his hand falls into his lap. "I could speak with her. I know she has no interest in returning to the mainland, and I am sure you can imagine why. I would not send her alone, and I would need some sort of assurance that what happened to her before could not happen again. I would see..." Stop. Blink. "She..." he clears his throat, the hand that was at his jaw splaying wide across his knee. "I'll speak to Cassiel, but it has to be her decision."
She is not crafty enough to have planned that mention when she did. Nope, not Miniyal. That would imply she has been learning about emotional manipulation and blackmail. Which she finds terribly wrong and would never do. She's so innocent. "I might know a place we might all meet without there being risk. However, with Tialith due to clutch. . .I shall have to find someone. . .Issa might do. I will need to think on it. If the place I have in mind does not work. . .Well, I shall come up with another. I am not sure how to arrange such a message however to know if she is willing." Shaking her head she pushes wisps of hair away from her face where they escaped the braid she chose today to confine her hair. "If she will not there is another way. But her testimony would help. You should know, as well, should things go completely wrong I do /not/ work for your daughter anymore. Are we clear on that? I am here of my own accord."
"Yes, I, you said that before," J'lor murmurs as he studies the girl in the mud. "Perhaps Issa can come again or we'll...I'll find a way to get word to you, when I know what she's willing to do. That you are tied to...Gans...may make things more difficult. But he is not...I am sorry. I heard of his loss. Thank you for trying to arrange this, Miniyal. And for helping her." Pause. "Of your own accord."
"He does not know what I do. Not entirely. But the arrangement between us does not allow for me to keep everything from him. And it is through his friendship with those I might not otherwise be able to reach that I do some of what I can." She does smile then, when speaking about her lover although it fades away when the condolences are given. Miniyal lets out a quiet sigh and a nod of her head. "He is not the man he was before." Talk about understatement. "However, I do trust him. Your daughter does not trust me. Something else I suppose you should be aware of."
This one is easy. And, if his own smile suggests anything, painful. "She does not trust me, either," J'lor replies very quietly. "I am willing to extend what she does not."
Miniyal nods her head once. "I imagine she has good reason not to trust me. I'm not very trustworthy in some areas. But once I have given my word I keep it and I do not lie, sir." Why doesn't his daughter trust her? Well, for reasons like this. He is considered for several silent moments before she nods once more. "It is hard to do what I do and earn trust I suppose. I am useful to certain people because of what I can do and yet those same people find it cause to distrust me." Carefully, so nothing falls out into the mud she opens her case and withdraws a small set of hides, loosely bound together. Once the case is closed once more she holds them out after stepping close enough to make it easy to reach.
He listens, but offers nothing for hearing all of those words save for his dark-eyed interest aand silent attention. It is not until after Miniyal quiets that he speaks. "It's just J'lor. No 'sir'." The bluerider extends one hand, curling it around the bound hides and gently drawing them closer so that he might peer down at this offering.
"I'm sorry. J'lor, then." Miniyal will call him what he wishes and be unbothered by it. The hides are a detailed, if not invasively so, history of Roa at High Reaches. From before she had even met Miniyal. Not that she would have trouble finding things out after the fact. Covering anything of import and any little notes that she, devoted daughter, would feel a father should know. "I would appreciate it, J'lor, if she never finds out about this. I imagine she would try to lecture me again and I've rather had enough of that." Her tone is calm and neutral as she states this although she finds herself staring at the sky once more.
His eyes widen and there's a sort of strangled and choked noise that the bluerider makes as he skims over the first hide and then flips through the rest. "This is...you do have talents don't you, my dear," he murmurs very quietly. "I won't tell. I don't think she'd speak with me long enough that I could, even if I wished it. I...you offer me so much and I find I would like to ask you for one thing more. Would you forgive me the imposition?"
The trick to acquiring people who owe you favors is that sometimes you have to give them a lot in the beginning. Eventually it will even out and then down the line you are in a position to get what you want. Miniyal has learned this through trial and error and so she merely inclines her head a fraction of an inch and smiles lightly. "I offer only what I feel is right, sir. For all I feel that the methods your group used were. . .incorrect, I do not agree with the treatment you received." Torture, exile, turned into history's villains. She could mean any or all of that. "I make no promises I can or will do what you ask. But I would not stop you from asking."
"They were incorrect," J'lor agrees. "I would undo it if I could. I would change many things, if I could." It's a bit like selling drugs, isn't it. The first one, the best one, is free. But J'lor is rather oblivious to either form of 'negotiation' and so he simply says, "Thank you. I...presume if you worked for Roa then you know Ashwin? And I thought, perhaps, if you knew Ashwin, you might have met Lorna? And so I wondered if you knew, perhaps, how she was adjusting?"
"If we had more time I would enjoy speaking on that with you. Where you went wrong and what you would do different. It would make an interesting addition to the records at the weyr. Perhaps another day." Miniyal dismisses her desire for his history with a shrug, but she wants it and it shows in her eyes and somewhat in her voice. History addict. No, knowledge addict. "I have met Lorna. We have spoken some although I do not see her often. I believe she is adjusting well. It was rough at the beginning, but I imagine it would be in any such situation. However, she has managed to not draw undue attention to herself." And if anyone would know it' be the sneaky one.
He draws a slow breath in through his nose and nods, once. "Thank you," J'lor says, his warm tenor rolling low. "I had hoped for something like that. And if there is time, if you do come back, we shall speak on anything you like."
"Roa and Ashwin will take good care of her, sir. Excuse me, J'lor." Miniyal grins and waves her free hand a bit, dismissing her error. "I would appreciate that. To hear what you say. It would be. . ." She trains off here and then smiles again although it's slightly more sly than it has been since they arrived. "It would help you, I think. To show people you are not what you used to be. Even in light of some of what you have done. It might make what will come next easier." And it would give her what she wanted. Such a coup too, in certain circles, if she were able to get this interview. Shaking her head she sighs once more. "Well, someday. One way or another. Would you like me to tell her anything? When I speak to her next. She is already usually upset with me so I've nothing to fear in that regard by passing something along."
"I am not sure I ever was what people claim I used to be," J'lor notes as he, too, glances skywards. "I am not sure, now, that I am any better than they think I am. You seem to be a seeker of truth, so I ask that you understand that. I don't know what I am, but I will answer your questions, when you have them." He studies Miniyal a moment, considerng this opportunity. "Just...that I love her. I've thought about her every day for eleven turns. I'm proud of her. And if you see Lorna, if you might just tell her that I'm so sorry." His head ducks down for that one. "And tell Ashwin...just that I was glad to know him. It was an honor. And not to let Jensen carry so much. And that..." the small smile turns sheepish, "is far more than you offered to do."
"I will inform them all of your words. Don't worry, J'lor. I am quite used to carrying messages. I've spent most of my life doing just that for one person or another. It is another talent I have." Miniyal wrinkles her nose for a moment and then she smiles. "I think if she hated you she would not be so upset. . .I imagine she just needs to work things out in her head." Roa she means, although she does not specify so he might take it how he will. "Seeking the truth usually gets me in trouble, but it's hard to resist." Perhaps she would say something else, but a noise behind her causes her head to turn and when she sees Diya and Issa reappear she shrugs. "I think our time is up. Thank you again, J'lor. I cannot offer true assurances, I think. Not and be honest. But I give you my word on these things: S'lien will pay for what he did. I will do everything I can to insure Cassiel is safe should she come forward no matter the cost to me. And. . ." Another pause and she reaches out to lay her hand on his arm briefly. "I will do what I can to get Roa past what stops her from showing you how she cares." She'll say nothing else until the others arrive although if he wishes his own farewell before then he has a few moments more.
The bluerider's own fingers lift to curl around the hand Miniyal settles on his arm. "I'd like to speak with her one day. Just a chance. Just that. Thank you, Miniyal. Keep yourself safe. Your Gans is lucky to have found you." His hand moves away and then he watches as Miniyal returns to her transport. He scrambles aboard his own dragon, moving from forearm to neckridge. He lifts his hand in awave before Vellath takes to the sky again, coasting back to the main beach.