What to do.
Who: Miniyal, Roa, R'vain
Where: Weyrleader's office
When: Midmorning on day 12, month 9, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
What: The future is discussed. The present must be discussed as well. There is even some mention of the past.
5/1/2007
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 11:39 on day 12, month 9, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
The hours between breakfast and lunch is a very likely time to find the weyrleaders in their office plugging away at one thing or another. The cool, autumn morning finds the Weyrwoman sitting at the table, one hand curled around a mug of hot tea that smells of berries, and the other hand holding a stylus which carefuly adds marks to the diagram of a wing formation. Her brows are drawn as she considers, and after a moment of hesitation, she marks down the final dragon and lifts her head with a small sigh.
For whatever reason, R'vain is late coming down the stairs from his weyr this morning. Maybe he's already come and gone and returned from some pre-dawn troublemaking, but there are no witnesses to prove or disprove this possibility present; just Roa with her work, and now her Weyrleader with an empty mug whose handle swings from one carelessly curved finger by his hip. He clomps boot-footed out across the office to the table and the tray where klah awaits him-- him, more than her, now that she's taking tea in the mornings-- and clumps down his mug for a pour. "Morning," he rumbles, looking over at the formation instead of the klah filling the mug.
The hours between breakfast and lunch are taken up with lessons for the weyrlings. Lessons and feeding and all the thrilling things that happen every day. Is it any wonder that a particular weyrling is going crazy? Or that she's found a way to weasel out of the end of those lessons before she has to deal with things she's unable to get out of? If these are a surprise people have not been paying attention. However she got out of the classroom she did so and now she's here. With bribe in hand. Which means she's come looking for someone. Someone she expects to find. Which someone is anyone's guess. Clearly she is hedging her bets. For some she knocks and for others she just walks in. This time she knocks and then just walks in, carefully holding the bribery plate in one hand.
"Morning," the weyrwoman offers to her thumping, clumping co-worker as he sees about getting a mug of klah. The formation, still drying, is nudged a little towards him. "I'd like your opinion, if you have a moment." Then there is a knock, and then after, a weyrling with a tray. Blink. "Morning, Miniyal. Come in." Never mind that she already has.
"Looks like-- " R'vain turns up the klah-pot and sets it down on the tray, and in doing so becomes aware of Miniyal behind him only because Roa greets her. He comes around the table a bit, taking the milk and sweetener with him, so he can face the junior just arrived. "-- a formation," he finishes, dumping half of the contents of the milk-pot into his klah. "Morning, Min'yal. Up t'no good?"
"Me? Never." His words are more interesting and earn the first response. Miniyal shrugs her shoulders. "Was feeling sick. Had to be excused from the end of class. Kitchen's on the way to the infirmary and while I was there I got pressed into service." It's almost a workable excuse. Other than the fact the kitchen is nowhere on the way to the infirmary. "Good news is I'm feeling better now. Anyway, croissants. Some of em plain and some of em with this fruit stuff inside. Corin said to drop them off on my way back to where I'm supposed to be." Eyes rolling she heads for the table and sets the plate near Roa's elbow.
The pastries are peered at and Miniyal gets a glance with a single brow hitched upwards. But, if Roa is aware of the holes in Miniyal's story, she doesn't point them out verbally. "Well, thank Corin for the pastries, please. You want some klah, while you're here?" The weyrwoman easily falls into the role of straight-man. Sass is left to the tall, looming one with the red hair.
Sass, R'vain can provide. He jerks his chin toward the plate of croissants so neatly put down by Roa's elbow and asks, twisting a grin, "Ain't any of those f'me?" After that he dumps sweetener into his cup, then a spoon clinks in. Accessory to his Weyrwoman, he shoves the tray with klah-pot and mugs toward Miniyal's side of the table, then straightens.
Shaking her head, Miniyal shoves her hands into her pockets and meanders a few steps backwards towards the door. "Oh, I'm fine, thank you. Not thirsty. Just, you know, dropping off." Lingering after the drop off, but dropping off. "And, I'll tell her you said thank you. She said she noticed you weren't much on sweet things so made sure to send some that were free of said things." A glance to the weyrleader who gets a roll of her eyes. "Patience and you learn what you want to know before just asking dumb questions." A hand gestures to the plate and then returns to her pockets. "Anyway. Umm. I should get back. But, you know, if you have time sometime? I mean, if I could talk to you. Sometime. No rush."
The weyrwoman steals a quick glance towards R'vain as he nudges the klah pot forward. 'Accessory' is a so much kinder word than 'accomplice'. For his offer of klah, he gets one of the fruit-stuffed pastries held out to him. Then she looks again to the plate and smiles faintly. "Thank her twice, then. I'm free to talk." And then, just bless her fifty times, Roa looks back towards the weyrleader with those brows lifted in question. She's free. Is he?
R'vain overturns a paw to collect the pastry from Roa, pulling back a chair with the other hand. Another grin twisted toward Miniyal-- he barely has to look at Roa to interpret her, so the newer weyrwoman has most of his apparent attention-- and the Weyrleader rumbles, completely unruffled by earlier rebuff or insult, "Presumin' this ain't girl talk, D'ven's rules'n all, y'mind me stayin'?" A bite of the pastry and he looks down, making some show of checking out Roa's wing formation while he slides into the chair.
"I imagine if it were girl talk you'd have as much to offer as anyone else in the weyr. Considering how well you know enough of them here." Another roll of her eyes and Miniyal shrugs her shoulders without pulling her hands from her pockets. D'ven's rules. Phah. Not that she says it. There's just a little frown when the name comes up. Things are always tense between the weyrlingmaster and some of his charges. "Anyway, I'll let you stay." She's so thoughtful. "I just need to know where I stand. That's all. I mean, what you want me to do. Once I'm out of the penal system that is D'ven's idea of training." Pausing she pulls a hand from her pocket and holds it up. "And if we could leave the whole talk of where people think I am going to go that I am not? I don't think I can be away for that long."
The weyrwoman flicks her focus from R'vain to Miniyal and back again as the banter flies. In the end she only bites her bottom lip and tries awfully hard to look solemn. "You did ask waht we -wanted- you to be doing," Roa points out, quiet and reasonable.
Another bite of the fruited croissant later, R'vain bothers to stir his klah. The spoon makes a soft grating sound against the excess of sweetener in the bottom, then falls silent as the stuff dissolves. "Ain't assuming y'going anywhere, Min'yal." Though the Weyrleader grins-- and the grin could be considered almost affectionate, certainly fond in his wolfish way-- he does not look up from his breakfast, not for Miniyal's question nor Roa's tennis-court regards. "Fix it from th'inside, ain't that y'motto?"
"Well, then, that answers that. Thank you for your time. I'll just be going." Shaking her head, Miniyal heads for the door. She gets two or three steps towards it and then stops, shaking her head once more as she turns around. "No. You know what? This is ridiculous. Your both being completely unreasonable. You've got in your head that the end all be off of being anything is wrapped up in- in that. So, what? If I refuse to go what're you going to do? I mean, I may as well know now what my future holds. I deserve that at least. So, am I going to be sent away? Or just tucked into a corner until I die of uselessness?"
"Yes, Miniyal. That's the plan. If you don't do exactly what we want exactly when we want it, we'll force you to do nothing to contribute to the weyr until the day you heave out your very last breath," Roa says with a smirk. "We'll come up with something else if you won't, you already know why I think it's a good place for you to try. What do you -want- to do, after you graduate? What made you go out on the sands in the first place?"
The Weyrleader's brows sail up when Miniyal turns her back. It's not until much later, after some time blowing on and then some time drinking his klah, after Miniyal's done her about-face and challenged them and Roa's done her part to meet that challenge, that R'vain rumbles, catching on, "Y'mean Caucus." Beat. "Think y'ought to. Can't make you. Not what I meant. You ain't got t'go t'be useful. Just think you'd know more 'bout more people and things if y'did."
"You haven't exactly made yourself out to be doing anything else. Let's face it, Roa, my way and your way have never aligned very well. And it's been made pretty damned clear which way you think is not right." Miniyal fiddles a moment with her ring and then shoves her hands into her pockets. Safest and best place for them to be. "I know plenty about people. I haven't exactly been living in a shell, you know. What I know may not be what you think I should know, but it doesn't negate the knowledge I have." She may answer his question, but she doesn't bother to do more than glance at him ever so briefly. Not that she looks at Roa so much either. "You don't need me to make nice with people. All the dumb classes in the world aren't going to keep me from calling an idiot an idiot. I have to smile and pretend someone's not an ass I can do it, but it's never going to be where my strengths lie. And trying to change that is going to seriously fuck up how well you run things."
"There hasn't exactly been opportunity for me to make myself out as doing anything. You're a weyrling in a weyrling program. I'm not going to meddle with that." Roa rests her chin on her palm. "Knowing about people and knowing ways to successfully interact with people are different, and sometimes you struggle with the later. Idiots come in all shapes and sizes, and some of them are in positions where saying so to their face would be detrimental to our own interests. Caucus will, if nothing else, teach you how to call an idiot and idiot without them realizing it. Managing polite conversation with difficult people doesn't need to be your greastest strength for you to improve it. You wouldn't need to learn, if you already excelled at doing so." With a slow blink and a quirk of her brow, Roa asks, "What do you mean it's going to seriously fuck up how well things are run?"
R'vain leans forward. He puts down his pastry, putting up an elbow on the table, propping his chin in the palm of his now-free hand. The other tips the klah-mug back and forth, steam arising from its sloshing surface. "Min'yal," he rumbles, low, and for the first time dashes a glance, significant, over at Roa. Back to their junior, then, with his green eyes-- less keen just now than cautiously sympathetic. "Y'putting words in our mouths, and making veiled threats." A beat. "You asked what we were goin' t'do once you're in th'queens wing. Roa asked you what you /want/ t'do. Y'might consider answering."
The closest she comes to the fidgeting she wants to do is a steady tap tap tap of one finger against her leg inside her pocket. "It's not a threat. It's a fact. Look, I know what-" Frowning she stops to shake her head. "I know what my problems are. I'm not so clueless I'm not aware of the many, many, many potential ways I can mess things up here. Sticking me in a classroom is not going to help this. I'll fuck things up if I'm bored. If it feels like- Like I'm being pushed into being something I'm not. And for the record, sometimes the last thing an idiot needs is someone to be polite about pointing this fact out. And it's better to have someone whose not in charge doing that than someone who is. Maybe I muddle through with people sometimes, I know that's true. But I can fix that."
There is a long look from Weyrwoman to Weyrleader, and then she returns her attention to Miniyal. "Then, as you seem to know very clearly what you do not wish to do, what is it that you -would- like to do?"
R'vain tips up his mug, keeping his head down for a moment as if he could steal a swig of the stuff in a privacy created by the angle. A rumble suits him fine to support what his Weyrwoman's said; to that, he adds in a murmur into his klah, "Ain't pushing, yet. Asking."
Miniyal's expression gets a light puzzled quality to it and she blinks at Roa's words. "It doesn't work like that. I mean, just knowing what you want to do. You can't just. . .just decide. You have to consider all of your options. You have think on each of them and figure out the pros and the cons and whether or not you can do it. You start by eliminating what you don't want to do. Things that don't appeal at all. From there you, you pick up bits and pieces of what you want to do. And, eventually, those sort of- make up what you want to do. But it's not as simple as just waking up and knowing what you want to do. You have to have a plan first. There's no sense wanting to do it if you don't know how you are going to do it. So you plan and you consider and you revise. Eventually you find something you are good at that works within what you are living with. I had a job. I was very good at it. It's all I was ever really good at. And now I can't really do it anymore is all. So I have to plan for something else is all. And it's not so easy." Like this is not all obvious. Really. They're so messed up in the head.
So, there is a long stretch, as Miniyal speaks, where Roa just listens, blinking quietly, watching the Reaches youngest goldrider. "Then start on a plan," she offers, brows lifting a little, "and check in with us along the way so that when you graduate, we're not all arguing over it."
R'vain lifts his head and leans back, letting down the hand that held his chin so that he can swipe up the pastry along the way. He watches Miniyal now-- frankly, openly-- and offers nothing in addition but a close-mouthed grin before opting to eat more of the croissant.
"What do you think I am trying to do?" Miniyal asks Roa with the a hint of exasperation in her tone. "I'm working on a plan. But I can't- I can't do that in a vacuum and that's where you have me living right now. Like there's nothing outside the barracks going on that I need to know about. How am I supposed to be able to do anything if I'm kept in the dark. This was stupid. I shouldn't have even tried." One foot taps on the ground and she sighs. "Look. I just- I need to know what you expect of me /now/ so by the time I have to do it I can have convinced myself I can. I'm sorry. I can't just, just be what I need to be. I have to have time to work on it. If you wait to tell me then I'll just fail."
On this, the weyrwoman yields to the weyrleader. Brows lifted, she turns her attention from Miniyal to him.
"Sure." That's to Miniyal, with a shrug. This is easy. But R'vain gives Roa another quick sideways look before he starts, this one less stern. Maybe sparkling, in fact. Then he turns his eyes to Miniyal again, and though they haven't lost that sparkle, there's something sharper there as well. Confidence. "Expect you t'identify some goals f'yourself and f'th'Weyr. Expect you t'work toward any of 'em you got th'tools and time t'pursue. Expect you t'be ready in about a turn, give'r'take, t'work with a really, /really/ varied team in a cooperative fashion without y'ego-- /your ego/," he emphasizes, with a tone almost rueful and a twitch of eyelid on one side that could be a wink, like he's yes perfectly authorized to talk about ego, "bein' too easily injured. You manage all that, we'll talk assignments with you then. You don't, we'll still find something f'you t'do that ain't an insult. Best I can promise."
"I assure you that while my ego may not be as large as some in this room. . .you know. It makes sense now." Miniyal blinks and then glances from Roa to R'vain. "Of course. He had to wait for a Weyrwoman small enough to be able to fit into the room /with/ his ego. Well, I'm glad that has been cleared up in my mind." Cleared up enough she even smiles for a moment. "But, that's veering off. Sorry. In the meantime, I need to know what's going on around here. It's a little hard to make contact with most of my people right now." Head tipping to the side she focuses on Roa. "That'll serve for your half of our deal. I'm of no use to anyone if I can't be kept up to date. It just means a turn from now I have to play catch up and that's going to be no good to anyone."
The weyrwoman studies Miniyal thoughtfully for a stretch before she draws in a slow breath and puffs it out again. "Really," she murmurs, "I'm not -that- short." If one is, say, a small rodent. With back problems. And an inclination to slouch. "What have you heard so far? You must have heard something, if you think you're missing information."
R'vain, it should be noted, must be in an awfully good mood-- because Miniyal's crack makes him laugh, earnestly, a rumbling series of thunderclaps low beneath Roa's words. "You are too, Weyrwoman. I've danced with you," asides he in a good-natured growl, then turns to Miniyal and puts on some effort to present a serious mein. Just not very /much/ effort. "S'a good place t'start, what Roa says. And save us time, telling y'shit y'a'ready know."
"That's what I'm saying. I haven't heard anything." Miniyal shakes her head and lets out a sigh. "With D'ven breathing down everyone's neck and Peloth doing her best to make sure I'm stuck forever." Another pause as she worries at her lower lip. "Totally unrelated again. Could I- I mean, Teraneth is fine and all, but he can't watch her all the time and I can't and I really don't need a repeat and if maybe you might ask, well, she's got new ideas and she promised to drop it, but if she forgets she promised and remembers what she said. Well, honestly, I'd just be more comfortable if maybe Tialith and Ruvoth might make sure she's not up to anything she shouldn't be is all. But, anyway. I know I am missing things. What I do hear is second and third hand information. I mean, I just think it might set your minds a little at ease to know I was not out there trying to find everything out on my own. My own way. If I know you two will actually tell me what I can't find out myself then I won't feel the need to do things that will just piss you off. Besides, I might be able to help."
"I think what you may have is your hands full, if Peloth's got you that concerned. What did she promise not to do?" The weyrwoman glances over at the weyrleader to very quickly wrinkle her nose at his pronouncement. "Next time, on a hill," she informs him primly, before looking back to Miniyal. "We'll tell you about Five Mines, much as we know, which isn't much, but I'll warn you now, any ideas you may have, be they implemented or no, will not be carried out by you, okay?"
"And I was just getting used t'seeing you in heels," rumbles R'vain back over to Roa, then returns his gaze to Miniyal. "Peloth-- no problem." Tialith and Ruvoth, conscripted with ease. But then a look of sudden understanding flickers across his features, eyes widening, mouth briefly slack. "You weren't-- finding things out. Min'yal, is that what y'note was about?"
Head tilting to one side there are a few more taps of Miniyal's foot before it stops. "I have plenty of time to think on any manner of things. She sleeps more than I do. I've got all the time in the world. She just gets ideas and I think if she keeps it to herself she'll forget the whole idea too and it won't be a problem. It's nothing to be concerned about. I've got it under control. I'm just asking for back up." And if it annoys her to ask as much as might be assumed there's no indication of such in her tone. At R'vain's remark she shifts her focus to him. "How? D'ven has me locked up. That was- Besides, you were the one that said I should be working for the weyr. That means no more clients. Not that I didn't love working for you. But, listen, if they're not doing their job I need to know. Because an example will have to be made of one of them. Once I do that the other three will be more on the ball, I assure you. I can't do the job you need right now. That's what the names were about. It's too risky. And much as I adore helping you I'm not going to lose what little free time I have getting caught being in places I shouldn't be with suspect characters."
All of that means that Roa is now watching R'vain again with a mild look of perplexity on her features. 'Note?' she mouths and then, with a blink and very elevated eyebrows, 'clients?' With a small shakes of her head and a heavy sigh, Roa looks back towards the weyrling. "If you want help, we're best able to assist if we know what sort of trouble to watch out for. I doubt Peloth is going to announce her intentions. She didn't, the last time."
Eheheheh. R'vain grins over at Roa, helpless, and rolls his shoulders, who me? "Got an idea what she's up to," he rumbles at her-- right, put the focus on Peloth's sneakysneaks, not his own. "Ruvoth can handle it. Tialith wouldn't hurt. Queen's a queen." Then he looks on Miniyal, picks up his klah-mug, looks into it, then up at Miniyal again. "Always one or two or ten that get ahead of 'emselves. Queens're bad for it, believe they can do anything. No one t'tell 'em otherwise."
"I handled it. I think. I told her that it was too dangerous. And, she /did/ tell me. Unlike last time. I think we are making progress." Miniyal sounds pretty sure about this. "So, just, if she mentions, umm, flying. Right. I mean, I'm sure nothing would come of it." A pause and then with a sigh, "Unlike last time." And, she is right there with the weyrleader in focusing on the bad queen and not discussing any past sneakiness she may have been involved in with him. So much so she doesn't even look his way, just focuses on Roa until he finishes speaking. Then she spares him a glance. "Right. Translation, she's a brat."
Roa smiles faintly and nods, tucking away whatever questions about Miniyal-sneakiness she has. "Tialith will help if we need her," she agrees with a small shrug. "So, Five Mines. The exiles are there, their lost weyrlings were what caused the dragons here to keen. We're fairly certain all of the exiled dragons are at Five Mines, and it seems very likely the rest of them are there, too. We're not going to cover the area anymore, we're sending a messenger to say so. Who, we don't know yet. Someone without much rank, and probably not a rider." There is another small 'anything else' glance towards the weyrleader.
"Lost weyrlings," R'vain clarifies, when Roa's paused to give him the floor as it were, "jumping between, s'far's we figure. Easy guess. Ain't meant t'be people going there than absolutely must. Maybe you heard that. No traffic." A beat, and he glances at Roa-- but goes on, slower. "Also trying t'make sure we ain't completely bereft of information. Nothing t'do with your guys-- and-- they're fine." A little grin for Miniyal, there.
"Whose gone in unofficially?" Well, that would be the first thought Miniyal would have. "I mean, whose there to gather your intelligence. I'm not asking for names or anything. I'm just wondering how you're handling it. I assume you have someone in there already. The question is it is someone those that came from here who are now there will recognize? If you have to put someone else in the timing is going to be tricky. Too soon before or after the messenger and they are already suspect. Going to be tricky with Diya there. Still, I guess it'd be easier in some ways with riders there now. Set up a meeting point with one of them you can trust. Somewhere not here or there. Surely they can come up with their own way to meet. Of course, the person there has to know who to approach. More people the more chances of being caught. And you can't send them in if you don't have a plan to get them out. Unless they are expendable. I don't really approve of that. Oh. Umm. Sorry. Thinking out loud." Frowning she chews on her lower lip some more and then nods. "Hey, I'm the first to admit my intelligence outside the weyr isn't so great. There's holes in it even here. E'sere and Aivey should have /never/ gotten away with what they did under my nose. I'm plugging those holes as best I can, but nothing will ever be perfect. For some reason there's people out there who don't like me. Go figure."
"There's nobody over there," Roa disagrees quietly. "We're sending a messenger and...lines of necessary contact are being arranged, but we haven't planted anyone. I don't think we intend to do that."
"No-- ," but R'vain's agreement doesn't come quite that quick or that easy. "We're not sending anyone t'take up residence," he clarifies, swift enough. "Diya's a unique concern. Going t'make it look normal, best we can, figure she ain't too unaccustomed t'normal yet t'think that's strange."
"Oh. Umm. No offense or anything, but that was dumb. You had the perfect window of opportunity and you could have arranged to know what was going on." Miniyal shakes her head and looks down at the floor. If only to hide the little thoughts that flicker into her expression that she can't hide any other way. Still, she knows better and raises a hand. "I know, I know. Don't do anything. I won't do anything. But, still. I would have had someone in there already. It's not too late. Just trickier is all. Still, I could come up with a workable plan within a month." Shaking her head she lets out a sigh. "Trusting Diya's dumb too. But, your call. You're the boss. Still, knowing what I know. . .Well, I'd think two or three times before-fuck." Straightening up she rolls her eyes. "I think I've been ratted on. I have to go. Thank you." Which is her way of saying goodbye and so she heads for the door.
For this barrage of a critique, Roa continues to rest her chin in her hands and listen, blinking those slow, calm blinks. There is a faint nod as Miniyal announces her departure, the weyrwoman's gaze already slipping away from her and down onto the wing formation she was working on when Miniyal arrived.
But R'vain nudges back his chair and gets to his feet. It's not a surging motion; there's no violence in it. "Min'yal," he rumbles, his only warning, and comes 'round the table, leaving his cup behind at the last minute on the corner. "Come 'ere and sit down," he adds, a hand behind him flipping a gesture, careless, at a chair. That he pronounces 'sit' and 'down' as separate words is the only real sign that request has turned to command. "I'll handle Teraneth. But you don't come in, drop three bullet points dressed as insults and leave-- " He turns back halfway and glances at Roa, then forward to address Miniyal. "Not unless y'figure on being dismissed."
Letting out a sigh from her place by the door, Miniyal rubs at her forehead. "They were not meant as insults. I was just pointing out tactical errors. I'm sorry. I'm allowed to do that. I may not be allowed to fix them or discuss them with anyone else, but I'm allowed to point out problems and come up with plans to fix them even if I never get to." Turning to look at Roa who has been quiet she gestures with one hand. "That was our deal, right?" Still, she may linger at the door long enough to speak, but she does walk to the nearest chair and sit down, hands folded in her lap. Haha! She doesn't just get to sit there quietly now.
The weyrwoman's head lifts as soon as R'vain stands. She blinks, brow arched in surprise as the weyrleader hauls Miniyal back, and the wing formation is once again nudged away. "That was the deal," Roa agrees, "But R'vain's right to say it's not particularly useful to only half-point out three problems. Nor is it particularly kind of you to couch them in terms that implies the listener's inferiority and, well, dumbness. You could try...honesty doesn't always have to be presented so harshly."
"Thank you," rumbles R'vain as soon as Miniyal's ass hits the chair-- and then he turns to paw back one of his own, beside her. Not /too/ close. In case she considers him toxic. "Unless y'want th'same treatment in response," he adds onto Roa's words, when she's spoken. "Rather not. Don't like cussin' out weyrwomen /that/ much." There's a glance, apologetic, toward Roa. Old thoughts. Then he steps over the chair, puts himself into it, and looks at Roa more than Miniyal in the process of casting his green gaze back and forth between the women. "Opportunity wasted. Wasn't. Sent someone. Before th'exiles ever came."
"You're absolutely right. I'm sorry. I should have found prettier words to point out the error of the action. Or, inaction." Miniyal's shoulders shrug and she looks down at her hands. "You want me to play nice with others you just have to be willing to accept the fact that sometimes I won't play nice with you. I don't expect to not get the same treatment back." Looking up she glances at R'vain and then Roa. "Like we're expected to believe he doesn't like cussing out anyone and everyone he gets a chance to do so to." Like that's the most important thing he's said. Like the rest wasn't even heard. Her only response to that is such a brief little flickering glance of approval towards the weyrleader. Brief little glance before she finds her hands interesting again. Good dog, have a biscuit.
"He did, once. Might've shifted out of that habit," Roa muses, though her gaze is stuck on R'vain even as she speaks to Miniyal. Nobody looks where they ought to in this trio. "I imagine, given time, the urge to cuss at weyrwomen will return," she adds with a ghost of a smile. For that last of the weyrleader's words, Roa's chin comes up and her head tips to the side. "Did we," she queries, quiet and calm. "Who went?"
The poison is stronger than the biscuit. R'vain slumps a little in his chair and turns his gaze entirely away from Miniyal onto Roa, his expression a baleful snitch on whatever he must be feeling about the situation. "Guard's choice," he rumbles, quietly.
"Sure I can't go now?" Clearly being in the middle of a domestic squabble is not where Miniyal wants to be. Especially one she's responsible for.
"Which Guard?" is Roa's next question, and then, for Miniyal, "No. Not yet. I want to hear about Diya."
"Ours," R'vain tells Roa, briefly, then turns on Miniyal, leaning sideways across the table to grab back his klah-mug. "Same here."
Oh, right, Diya. Shaking her head, Miniyal maintains her gaze upon her hands. "I just think any situation she is involved in is made more. . .troublesome. Considering her past actions. Her history does not lend one to the belief that she will not, without warning, screw with the status quo for some perceived benefit to herself. That's all."
R'vain gets another long look from his weyrwoman before she turns away from him to watch Miniyal squarely. " 'If you knew what I know', you said. I'm asking to know just that. So. What else about Diya?"
R'vain, with his eyes on Miniyal, is impressively impassive about any holes being bored into his skull by his Weyrwoman. He's also uncharacteristically silent; Roa's said it all.
"It's not that simple. I can't just go around. . .I don't do that. When I learn something it's confidential." Miniyal looks up and lets her eyes slide from one to the other before she finds a spot that is neither of the other people present to stare at. "I'm just saying, the situation may be tricky as it is, but with her there it's just gotten a whole lot messier. Other exiles aside."
"That's unacceptable," Roa says, her tone light and easy enough that it nearly contradicts the words. "If you expect us to be open with you so that you can discover how to do your job, I expect that same courtesy returned. If you know something about Five Mines or the people there that could affect the choices we make about it, you've just stumbled on a bit of that duty you're expected to do despite your personal values."
"Diya's also, it should be noted, Weyrless. A renegade," adds R'vain in an easy, slow rumble, as if the words might need to be a little more careful than his usual clipped slur. "She's inherently a danger t'High Reaches." He tips down his chin and fixes all the sharp edges of his emerald gaze on that Weyr's newest junior, expectant.
"I'm just saying it's a slope you may not want me to have been sliding down in the future is all." Miniyal lets out another sigh and untangles fingers from each other to lift a hand. "And that was not a threat. I am not- I'm not going to repeat where either of you stand with me because I've made it clear in the past. I'm just saying, some things have always been black and white and it's been that way for a reason." Hand back down she twists at the ring on her finger in silence while she gathers her thoughts. "She turned on them once already is all I am saying. And they were stupid to trust her again. Because she already turned them in for her own gain. She finds a way to do it again I don't put it past her. And she won't come here to do that. She'll go around to someone else. To get what she wants."
"I trust you," and there is a slight emphasis on the middle word as Roa speaks it, "to be able to manage that slope, even with the changes required of it." There is a small nod for the news that Diya was the informant that stopped the exiles. "What is it she wants?"
"Where we stand with you," R'vain rumbles, softly, "changed on th'twenty-second day of th'fifth month." He leans back in the chair he's turned a little toward the table, so he can easily look at and between each of the women there, and tips up a swallow of klah before continuing. "Professionally. Personally, whatever. Secondary now." A flip of his other paw dismisses that. "How close y'figure she was t'them?"
The wisdom of that trust is up for debate, but Miniyal only nods at the words. So, rather than speak on it again she lets it go. "How close? She was one of them. And I can't confirm or deny where she went sometimes. I think she may have been in touch after they were exiled. I have no proof. I think, and it's only my opinion I have no proof, that when it became obvious they were going to be caught she turned on them. Turned them in to look good. To further her own desires. What does she want now? I don't know. She claims to have no personal ambition left. At least that's what she said when I talked to her last. But I worked for her a number of turns and I don't believe that. Issa might know, but I wouldn't trust her to tell the truth when it comes to the former weyrwoman."
There is another small nod for all of that. "Three, four potential factions just from the island, then," Roa mutters with a heavy sigh. "Faranth knows how many at Five Mines total. They'll be lucky if they all manage not to kill one another, at this point."
Emerald eyes narrow to near-slits, the green a wince-inducing contrast behind the cage of ruddy lashes. "Issa," he remarks, and flicks a sidelong glance to Roa. Guilt enough to spare. Back to Miniyal. "If not factions, at least various orders pushing f'slightly separate goals. Don't necessarily know what any of them are; history's too old t'necessarily be much help. You got anything else?"
"Right now? No, sir. But if something else comes to me I will let you both know." Miniyal lets her ring be and stands up again. "If that's all? Might I be excused? Someone needs to eat." See, she doesn't ask for herself. She asks for the one who put them in the situation of having to deal with her. Shuffling her feet she shoves her hands into her pockets and spares a tiny glance for R'vain and then Roa. "I'm real sorry for causing trouble. I'd say it won't happen again, but we know that'd be a lie. Still, sorry for ruining your morning and all. Sir. Ma'am."
There is a small shrug from the weyrwoman. Happened before. Will happen again. "Thank you for telling us. Unless R'vain has anything to add, I'd say you're dismissed." There is another faint smile that hitches the corner of Roa's lips at those words.
"Only that if you get any static from D'ven t'send him t'me," the Weyrleader provides, tipping up his klah mug after-- but he stops before taking a sip and adds, from the rim of the cup with a bit of a grin, "Goin' t'have t'have you up once in a while anyway, figure, few months down th'line. He'll get used to it."
Miniyal's eyes roll and she grins. "Static from D'ven is a way of life. If I weren't making him pull out his hair he'd think I was up to no good. Keep him looking for plain sight trouble and anything else is easier to get away with. Not that I'm up to anything." She waits til she gets to the door before she salutes, not that it's worth noting, how she does it and all, and then she really does leave.
Where: Weyrleader's office
When: Midmorning on day 12, month 9, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
What: The future is discussed. The present must be discussed as well. There is even some mention of the past.
5/1/2007
At High Reaches Weyr, it is 11:39 on day 12, month 9, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
The hours between breakfast and lunch is a very likely time to find the weyrleaders in their office plugging away at one thing or another. The cool, autumn morning finds the Weyrwoman sitting at the table, one hand curled around a mug of hot tea that smells of berries, and the other hand holding a stylus which carefuly adds marks to the diagram of a wing formation. Her brows are drawn as she considers, and after a moment of hesitation, she marks down the final dragon and lifts her head with a small sigh.
For whatever reason, R'vain is late coming down the stairs from his weyr this morning. Maybe he's already come and gone and returned from some pre-dawn troublemaking, but there are no witnesses to prove or disprove this possibility present; just Roa with her work, and now her Weyrleader with an empty mug whose handle swings from one carelessly curved finger by his hip. He clomps boot-footed out across the office to the table and the tray where klah awaits him-- him, more than her, now that she's taking tea in the mornings-- and clumps down his mug for a pour. "Morning," he rumbles, looking over at the formation instead of the klah filling the mug.
The hours between breakfast and lunch are taken up with lessons for the weyrlings. Lessons and feeding and all the thrilling things that happen every day. Is it any wonder that a particular weyrling is going crazy? Or that she's found a way to weasel out of the end of those lessons before she has to deal with things she's unable to get out of? If these are a surprise people have not been paying attention. However she got out of the classroom she did so and now she's here. With bribe in hand. Which means she's come looking for someone. Someone she expects to find. Which someone is anyone's guess. Clearly she is hedging her bets. For some she knocks and for others she just walks in. This time she knocks and then just walks in, carefully holding the bribery plate in one hand.
"Morning," the weyrwoman offers to her thumping, clumping co-worker as he sees about getting a mug of klah. The formation, still drying, is nudged a little towards him. "I'd like your opinion, if you have a moment." Then there is a knock, and then after, a weyrling with a tray. Blink. "Morning, Miniyal. Come in." Never mind that she already has.
"Looks like-- " R'vain turns up the klah-pot and sets it down on the tray, and in doing so becomes aware of Miniyal behind him only because Roa greets her. He comes around the table a bit, taking the milk and sweetener with him, so he can face the junior just arrived. "-- a formation," he finishes, dumping half of the contents of the milk-pot into his klah. "Morning, Min'yal. Up t'no good?"
"Me? Never." His words are more interesting and earn the first response. Miniyal shrugs her shoulders. "Was feeling sick. Had to be excused from the end of class. Kitchen's on the way to the infirmary and while I was there I got pressed into service." It's almost a workable excuse. Other than the fact the kitchen is nowhere on the way to the infirmary. "Good news is I'm feeling better now. Anyway, croissants. Some of em plain and some of em with this fruit stuff inside. Corin said to drop them off on my way back to where I'm supposed to be." Eyes rolling she heads for the table and sets the plate near Roa's elbow.
The pastries are peered at and Miniyal gets a glance with a single brow hitched upwards. But, if Roa is aware of the holes in Miniyal's story, she doesn't point them out verbally. "Well, thank Corin for the pastries, please. You want some klah, while you're here?" The weyrwoman easily falls into the role of straight-man. Sass is left to the tall, looming one with the red hair.
Sass, R'vain can provide. He jerks his chin toward the plate of croissants so neatly put down by Roa's elbow and asks, twisting a grin, "Ain't any of those f'me?" After that he dumps sweetener into his cup, then a spoon clinks in. Accessory to his Weyrwoman, he shoves the tray with klah-pot and mugs toward Miniyal's side of the table, then straightens.
Shaking her head, Miniyal shoves her hands into her pockets and meanders a few steps backwards towards the door. "Oh, I'm fine, thank you. Not thirsty. Just, you know, dropping off." Lingering after the drop off, but dropping off. "And, I'll tell her you said thank you. She said she noticed you weren't much on sweet things so made sure to send some that were free of said things." A glance to the weyrleader who gets a roll of her eyes. "Patience and you learn what you want to know before just asking dumb questions." A hand gestures to the plate and then returns to her pockets. "Anyway. Umm. I should get back. But, you know, if you have time sometime? I mean, if I could talk to you. Sometime. No rush."
The weyrwoman steals a quick glance towards R'vain as he nudges the klah pot forward. 'Accessory' is a so much kinder word than 'accomplice'. For his offer of klah, he gets one of the fruit-stuffed pastries held out to him. Then she looks again to the plate and smiles faintly. "Thank her twice, then. I'm free to talk." And then, just bless her fifty times, Roa looks back towards the weyrleader with those brows lifted in question. She's free. Is he?
R'vain overturns a paw to collect the pastry from Roa, pulling back a chair with the other hand. Another grin twisted toward Miniyal-- he barely has to look at Roa to interpret her, so the newer weyrwoman has most of his apparent attention-- and the Weyrleader rumbles, completely unruffled by earlier rebuff or insult, "Presumin' this ain't girl talk, D'ven's rules'n all, y'mind me stayin'?" A bite of the pastry and he looks down, making some show of checking out Roa's wing formation while he slides into the chair.
"I imagine if it were girl talk you'd have as much to offer as anyone else in the weyr. Considering how well you know enough of them here." Another roll of her eyes and Miniyal shrugs her shoulders without pulling her hands from her pockets. D'ven's rules. Phah. Not that she says it. There's just a little frown when the name comes up. Things are always tense between the weyrlingmaster and some of his charges. "Anyway, I'll let you stay." She's so thoughtful. "I just need to know where I stand. That's all. I mean, what you want me to do. Once I'm out of the penal system that is D'ven's idea of training." Pausing she pulls a hand from her pocket and holds it up. "And if we could leave the whole talk of where people think I am going to go that I am not? I don't think I can be away for that long."
The weyrwoman flicks her focus from R'vain to Miniyal and back again as the banter flies. In the end she only bites her bottom lip and tries awfully hard to look solemn. "You did ask waht we -wanted- you to be doing," Roa points out, quiet and reasonable.
Another bite of the fruited croissant later, R'vain bothers to stir his klah. The spoon makes a soft grating sound against the excess of sweetener in the bottom, then falls silent as the stuff dissolves. "Ain't assuming y'going anywhere, Min'yal." Though the Weyrleader grins-- and the grin could be considered almost affectionate, certainly fond in his wolfish way-- he does not look up from his breakfast, not for Miniyal's question nor Roa's tennis-court regards. "Fix it from th'inside, ain't that y'motto?"
"Well, then, that answers that. Thank you for your time. I'll just be going." Shaking her head, Miniyal heads for the door. She gets two or three steps towards it and then stops, shaking her head once more as she turns around. "No. You know what? This is ridiculous. Your both being completely unreasonable. You've got in your head that the end all be off of being anything is wrapped up in- in that. So, what? If I refuse to go what're you going to do? I mean, I may as well know now what my future holds. I deserve that at least. So, am I going to be sent away? Or just tucked into a corner until I die of uselessness?"
"Yes, Miniyal. That's the plan. If you don't do exactly what we want exactly when we want it, we'll force you to do nothing to contribute to the weyr until the day you heave out your very last breath," Roa says with a smirk. "We'll come up with something else if you won't, you already know why I think it's a good place for you to try. What do you -want- to do, after you graduate? What made you go out on the sands in the first place?"
The Weyrleader's brows sail up when Miniyal turns her back. It's not until much later, after some time blowing on and then some time drinking his klah, after Miniyal's done her about-face and challenged them and Roa's done her part to meet that challenge, that R'vain rumbles, catching on, "Y'mean Caucus." Beat. "Think y'ought to. Can't make you. Not what I meant. You ain't got t'go t'be useful. Just think you'd know more 'bout more people and things if y'did."
"You haven't exactly made yourself out to be doing anything else. Let's face it, Roa, my way and your way have never aligned very well. And it's been made pretty damned clear which way you think is not right." Miniyal fiddles a moment with her ring and then shoves her hands into her pockets. Safest and best place for them to be. "I know plenty about people. I haven't exactly been living in a shell, you know. What I know may not be what you think I should know, but it doesn't negate the knowledge I have." She may answer his question, but she doesn't bother to do more than glance at him ever so briefly. Not that she looks at Roa so much either. "You don't need me to make nice with people. All the dumb classes in the world aren't going to keep me from calling an idiot an idiot. I have to smile and pretend someone's not an ass I can do it, but it's never going to be where my strengths lie. And trying to change that is going to seriously fuck up how well you run things."
"There hasn't exactly been opportunity for me to make myself out as doing anything. You're a weyrling in a weyrling program. I'm not going to meddle with that." Roa rests her chin on her palm. "Knowing about people and knowing ways to successfully interact with people are different, and sometimes you struggle with the later. Idiots come in all shapes and sizes, and some of them are in positions where saying so to their face would be detrimental to our own interests. Caucus will, if nothing else, teach you how to call an idiot and idiot without them realizing it. Managing polite conversation with difficult people doesn't need to be your greastest strength for you to improve it. You wouldn't need to learn, if you already excelled at doing so." With a slow blink and a quirk of her brow, Roa asks, "What do you mean it's going to seriously fuck up how well things are run?"
R'vain leans forward. He puts down his pastry, putting up an elbow on the table, propping his chin in the palm of his now-free hand. The other tips the klah-mug back and forth, steam arising from its sloshing surface. "Min'yal," he rumbles, low, and for the first time dashes a glance, significant, over at Roa. Back to their junior, then, with his green eyes-- less keen just now than cautiously sympathetic. "Y'putting words in our mouths, and making veiled threats." A beat. "You asked what we were goin' t'do once you're in th'queens wing. Roa asked you what you /want/ t'do. Y'might consider answering."
The closest she comes to the fidgeting she wants to do is a steady tap tap tap of one finger against her leg inside her pocket. "It's not a threat. It's a fact. Look, I know what-" Frowning she stops to shake her head. "I know what my problems are. I'm not so clueless I'm not aware of the many, many, many potential ways I can mess things up here. Sticking me in a classroom is not going to help this. I'll fuck things up if I'm bored. If it feels like- Like I'm being pushed into being something I'm not. And for the record, sometimes the last thing an idiot needs is someone to be polite about pointing this fact out. And it's better to have someone whose not in charge doing that than someone who is. Maybe I muddle through with people sometimes, I know that's true. But I can fix that."
There is a long look from Weyrwoman to Weyrleader, and then she returns her attention to Miniyal. "Then, as you seem to know very clearly what you do not wish to do, what is it that you -would- like to do?"
R'vain tips up his mug, keeping his head down for a moment as if he could steal a swig of the stuff in a privacy created by the angle. A rumble suits him fine to support what his Weyrwoman's said; to that, he adds in a murmur into his klah, "Ain't pushing, yet. Asking."
Miniyal's expression gets a light puzzled quality to it and she blinks at Roa's words. "It doesn't work like that. I mean, just knowing what you want to do. You can't just. . .just decide. You have to consider all of your options. You have think on each of them and figure out the pros and the cons and whether or not you can do it. You start by eliminating what you don't want to do. Things that don't appeal at all. From there you, you pick up bits and pieces of what you want to do. And, eventually, those sort of- make up what you want to do. But it's not as simple as just waking up and knowing what you want to do. You have to have a plan first. There's no sense wanting to do it if you don't know how you are going to do it. So you plan and you consider and you revise. Eventually you find something you are good at that works within what you are living with. I had a job. I was very good at it. It's all I was ever really good at. And now I can't really do it anymore is all. So I have to plan for something else is all. And it's not so easy." Like this is not all obvious. Really. They're so messed up in the head.
So, there is a long stretch, as Miniyal speaks, where Roa just listens, blinking quietly, watching the Reaches youngest goldrider. "Then start on a plan," she offers, brows lifting a little, "and check in with us along the way so that when you graduate, we're not all arguing over it."
R'vain lifts his head and leans back, letting down the hand that held his chin so that he can swipe up the pastry along the way. He watches Miniyal now-- frankly, openly-- and offers nothing in addition but a close-mouthed grin before opting to eat more of the croissant.
"What do you think I am trying to do?" Miniyal asks Roa with the a hint of exasperation in her tone. "I'm working on a plan. But I can't- I can't do that in a vacuum and that's where you have me living right now. Like there's nothing outside the barracks going on that I need to know about. How am I supposed to be able to do anything if I'm kept in the dark. This was stupid. I shouldn't have even tried." One foot taps on the ground and she sighs. "Look. I just- I need to know what you expect of me /now/ so by the time I have to do it I can have convinced myself I can. I'm sorry. I can't just, just be what I need to be. I have to have time to work on it. If you wait to tell me then I'll just fail."
On this, the weyrwoman yields to the weyrleader. Brows lifted, she turns her attention from Miniyal to him.
"Sure." That's to Miniyal, with a shrug. This is easy. But R'vain gives Roa another quick sideways look before he starts, this one less stern. Maybe sparkling, in fact. Then he turns his eyes to Miniyal again, and though they haven't lost that sparkle, there's something sharper there as well. Confidence. "Expect you t'identify some goals f'yourself and f'th'Weyr. Expect you t'work toward any of 'em you got th'tools and time t'pursue. Expect you t'be ready in about a turn, give'r'take, t'work with a really, /really/ varied team in a cooperative fashion without y'ego-- /your ego/," he emphasizes, with a tone almost rueful and a twitch of eyelid on one side that could be a wink, like he's yes perfectly authorized to talk about ego, "bein' too easily injured. You manage all that, we'll talk assignments with you then. You don't, we'll still find something f'you t'do that ain't an insult. Best I can promise."
"I assure you that while my ego may not be as large as some in this room. . .you know. It makes sense now." Miniyal blinks and then glances from Roa to R'vain. "Of course. He had to wait for a Weyrwoman small enough to be able to fit into the room /with/ his ego. Well, I'm glad that has been cleared up in my mind." Cleared up enough she even smiles for a moment. "But, that's veering off. Sorry. In the meantime, I need to know what's going on around here. It's a little hard to make contact with most of my people right now." Head tipping to the side she focuses on Roa. "That'll serve for your half of our deal. I'm of no use to anyone if I can't be kept up to date. It just means a turn from now I have to play catch up and that's going to be no good to anyone."
The weyrwoman studies Miniyal thoughtfully for a stretch before she draws in a slow breath and puffs it out again. "Really," she murmurs, "I'm not -that- short." If one is, say, a small rodent. With back problems. And an inclination to slouch. "What have you heard so far? You must have heard something, if you think you're missing information."
R'vain, it should be noted, must be in an awfully good mood-- because Miniyal's crack makes him laugh, earnestly, a rumbling series of thunderclaps low beneath Roa's words. "You are too, Weyrwoman. I've danced with you," asides he in a good-natured growl, then turns to Miniyal and puts on some effort to present a serious mein. Just not very /much/ effort. "S'a good place t'start, what Roa says. And save us time, telling y'shit y'a'ready know."
"That's what I'm saying. I haven't heard anything." Miniyal shakes her head and lets out a sigh. "With D'ven breathing down everyone's neck and Peloth doing her best to make sure I'm stuck forever." Another pause as she worries at her lower lip. "Totally unrelated again. Could I- I mean, Teraneth is fine and all, but he can't watch her all the time and I can't and I really don't need a repeat and if maybe you might ask, well, she's got new ideas and she promised to drop it, but if she forgets she promised and remembers what she said. Well, honestly, I'd just be more comfortable if maybe Tialith and Ruvoth might make sure she's not up to anything she shouldn't be is all. But, anyway. I know I am missing things. What I do hear is second and third hand information. I mean, I just think it might set your minds a little at ease to know I was not out there trying to find everything out on my own. My own way. If I know you two will actually tell me what I can't find out myself then I won't feel the need to do things that will just piss you off. Besides, I might be able to help."
"I think what you may have is your hands full, if Peloth's got you that concerned. What did she promise not to do?" The weyrwoman glances over at the weyrleader to very quickly wrinkle her nose at his pronouncement. "Next time, on a hill," she informs him primly, before looking back to Miniyal. "We'll tell you about Five Mines, much as we know, which isn't much, but I'll warn you now, any ideas you may have, be they implemented or no, will not be carried out by you, okay?"
"And I was just getting used t'seeing you in heels," rumbles R'vain back over to Roa, then returns his gaze to Miniyal. "Peloth-- no problem." Tialith and Ruvoth, conscripted with ease. But then a look of sudden understanding flickers across his features, eyes widening, mouth briefly slack. "You weren't-- finding things out. Min'yal, is that what y'note was about?"
Head tilting to one side there are a few more taps of Miniyal's foot before it stops. "I have plenty of time to think on any manner of things. She sleeps more than I do. I've got all the time in the world. She just gets ideas and I think if she keeps it to herself she'll forget the whole idea too and it won't be a problem. It's nothing to be concerned about. I've got it under control. I'm just asking for back up." And if it annoys her to ask as much as might be assumed there's no indication of such in her tone. At R'vain's remark she shifts her focus to him. "How? D'ven has me locked up. That was- Besides, you were the one that said I should be working for the weyr. That means no more clients. Not that I didn't love working for you. But, listen, if they're not doing their job I need to know. Because an example will have to be made of one of them. Once I do that the other three will be more on the ball, I assure you. I can't do the job you need right now. That's what the names were about. It's too risky. And much as I adore helping you I'm not going to lose what little free time I have getting caught being in places I shouldn't be with suspect characters."
All of that means that Roa is now watching R'vain again with a mild look of perplexity on her features. 'Note?' she mouths and then, with a blink and very elevated eyebrows, 'clients?' With a small shakes of her head and a heavy sigh, Roa looks back towards the weyrling. "If you want help, we're best able to assist if we know what sort of trouble to watch out for. I doubt Peloth is going to announce her intentions. She didn't, the last time."
Eheheheh. R'vain grins over at Roa, helpless, and rolls his shoulders, who me? "Got an idea what she's up to," he rumbles at her-- right, put the focus on Peloth's sneakysneaks, not his own. "Ruvoth can handle it. Tialith wouldn't hurt. Queen's a queen." Then he looks on Miniyal, picks up his klah-mug, looks into it, then up at Miniyal again. "Always one or two or ten that get ahead of 'emselves. Queens're bad for it, believe they can do anything. No one t'tell 'em otherwise."
"I handled it. I think. I told her that it was too dangerous. And, she /did/ tell me. Unlike last time. I think we are making progress." Miniyal sounds pretty sure about this. "So, just, if she mentions, umm, flying. Right. I mean, I'm sure nothing would come of it." A pause and then with a sigh, "Unlike last time." And, she is right there with the weyrleader in focusing on the bad queen and not discussing any past sneakiness she may have been involved in with him. So much so she doesn't even look his way, just focuses on Roa until he finishes speaking. Then she spares him a glance. "Right. Translation, she's a brat."
Roa smiles faintly and nods, tucking away whatever questions about Miniyal-sneakiness she has. "Tialith will help if we need her," she agrees with a small shrug. "So, Five Mines. The exiles are there, their lost weyrlings were what caused the dragons here to keen. We're fairly certain all of the exiled dragons are at Five Mines, and it seems very likely the rest of them are there, too. We're not going to cover the area anymore, we're sending a messenger to say so. Who, we don't know yet. Someone without much rank, and probably not a rider." There is another small 'anything else' glance towards the weyrleader.
"Lost weyrlings," R'vain clarifies, when Roa's paused to give him the floor as it were, "jumping between, s'far's we figure. Easy guess. Ain't meant t'be people going there than absolutely must. Maybe you heard that. No traffic." A beat, and he glances at Roa-- but goes on, slower. "Also trying t'make sure we ain't completely bereft of information. Nothing t'do with your guys-- and-- they're fine." A little grin for Miniyal, there.
"Whose gone in unofficially?" Well, that would be the first thought Miniyal would have. "I mean, whose there to gather your intelligence. I'm not asking for names or anything. I'm just wondering how you're handling it. I assume you have someone in there already. The question is it is someone those that came from here who are now there will recognize? If you have to put someone else in the timing is going to be tricky. Too soon before or after the messenger and they are already suspect. Going to be tricky with Diya there. Still, I guess it'd be easier in some ways with riders there now. Set up a meeting point with one of them you can trust. Somewhere not here or there. Surely they can come up with their own way to meet. Of course, the person there has to know who to approach. More people the more chances of being caught. And you can't send them in if you don't have a plan to get them out. Unless they are expendable. I don't really approve of that. Oh. Umm. Sorry. Thinking out loud." Frowning she chews on her lower lip some more and then nods. "Hey, I'm the first to admit my intelligence outside the weyr isn't so great. There's holes in it even here. E'sere and Aivey should have /never/ gotten away with what they did under my nose. I'm plugging those holes as best I can, but nothing will ever be perfect. For some reason there's people out there who don't like me. Go figure."
"There's nobody over there," Roa disagrees quietly. "We're sending a messenger and...lines of necessary contact are being arranged, but we haven't planted anyone. I don't think we intend to do that."
"No-- ," but R'vain's agreement doesn't come quite that quick or that easy. "We're not sending anyone t'take up residence," he clarifies, swift enough. "Diya's a unique concern. Going t'make it look normal, best we can, figure she ain't too unaccustomed t'normal yet t'think that's strange."
"Oh. Umm. No offense or anything, but that was dumb. You had the perfect window of opportunity and you could have arranged to know what was going on." Miniyal shakes her head and looks down at the floor. If only to hide the little thoughts that flicker into her expression that she can't hide any other way. Still, she knows better and raises a hand. "I know, I know. Don't do anything. I won't do anything. But, still. I would have had someone in there already. It's not too late. Just trickier is all. Still, I could come up with a workable plan within a month." Shaking her head she lets out a sigh. "Trusting Diya's dumb too. But, your call. You're the boss. Still, knowing what I know. . .Well, I'd think two or three times before-fuck." Straightening up she rolls her eyes. "I think I've been ratted on. I have to go. Thank you." Which is her way of saying goodbye and so she heads for the door.
For this barrage of a critique, Roa continues to rest her chin in her hands and listen, blinking those slow, calm blinks. There is a faint nod as Miniyal announces her departure, the weyrwoman's gaze already slipping away from her and down onto the wing formation she was working on when Miniyal arrived.
But R'vain nudges back his chair and gets to his feet. It's not a surging motion; there's no violence in it. "Min'yal," he rumbles, his only warning, and comes 'round the table, leaving his cup behind at the last minute on the corner. "Come 'ere and sit down," he adds, a hand behind him flipping a gesture, careless, at a chair. That he pronounces 'sit' and 'down' as separate words is the only real sign that request has turned to command. "I'll handle Teraneth. But you don't come in, drop three bullet points dressed as insults and leave-- " He turns back halfway and glances at Roa, then forward to address Miniyal. "Not unless y'figure on being dismissed."
Letting out a sigh from her place by the door, Miniyal rubs at her forehead. "They were not meant as insults. I was just pointing out tactical errors. I'm sorry. I'm allowed to do that. I may not be allowed to fix them or discuss them with anyone else, but I'm allowed to point out problems and come up with plans to fix them even if I never get to." Turning to look at Roa who has been quiet she gestures with one hand. "That was our deal, right?" Still, she may linger at the door long enough to speak, but she does walk to the nearest chair and sit down, hands folded in her lap. Haha! She doesn't just get to sit there quietly now.
The weyrwoman's head lifts as soon as R'vain stands. She blinks, brow arched in surprise as the weyrleader hauls Miniyal back, and the wing formation is once again nudged away. "That was the deal," Roa agrees, "But R'vain's right to say it's not particularly useful to only half-point out three problems. Nor is it particularly kind of you to couch them in terms that implies the listener's inferiority and, well, dumbness. You could try...honesty doesn't always have to be presented so harshly."
"Thank you," rumbles R'vain as soon as Miniyal's ass hits the chair-- and then he turns to paw back one of his own, beside her. Not /too/ close. In case she considers him toxic. "Unless y'want th'same treatment in response," he adds onto Roa's words, when she's spoken. "Rather not. Don't like cussin' out weyrwomen /that/ much." There's a glance, apologetic, toward Roa. Old thoughts. Then he steps over the chair, puts himself into it, and looks at Roa more than Miniyal in the process of casting his green gaze back and forth between the women. "Opportunity wasted. Wasn't. Sent someone. Before th'exiles ever came."
"You're absolutely right. I'm sorry. I should have found prettier words to point out the error of the action. Or, inaction." Miniyal's shoulders shrug and she looks down at her hands. "You want me to play nice with others you just have to be willing to accept the fact that sometimes I won't play nice with you. I don't expect to not get the same treatment back." Looking up she glances at R'vain and then Roa. "Like we're expected to believe he doesn't like cussing out anyone and everyone he gets a chance to do so to." Like that's the most important thing he's said. Like the rest wasn't even heard. Her only response to that is such a brief little flickering glance of approval towards the weyrleader. Brief little glance before she finds her hands interesting again. Good dog, have a biscuit.
"He did, once. Might've shifted out of that habit," Roa muses, though her gaze is stuck on R'vain even as she speaks to Miniyal. Nobody looks where they ought to in this trio. "I imagine, given time, the urge to cuss at weyrwomen will return," she adds with a ghost of a smile. For that last of the weyrleader's words, Roa's chin comes up and her head tips to the side. "Did we," she queries, quiet and calm. "Who went?"
The poison is stronger than the biscuit. R'vain slumps a little in his chair and turns his gaze entirely away from Miniyal onto Roa, his expression a baleful snitch on whatever he must be feeling about the situation. "Guard's choice," he rumbles, quietly.
"Sure I can't go now?" Clearly being in the middle of a domestic squabble is not where Miniyal wants to be. Especially one she's responsible for.
"Which Guard?" is Roa's next question, and then, for Miniyal, "No. Not yet. I want to hear about Diya."
"Ours," R'vain tells Roa, briefly, then turns on Miniyal, leaning sideways across the table to grab back his klah-mug. "Same here."
Oh, right, Diya. Shaking her head, Miniyal maintains her gaze upon her hands. "I just think any situation she is involved in is made more. . .troublesome. Considering her past actions. Her history does not lend one to the belief that she will not, without warning, screw with the status quo for some perceived benefit to herself. That's all."
R'vain gets another long look from his weyrwoman before she turns away from him to watch Miniyal squarely. " 'If you knew what I know', you said. I'm asking to know just that. So. What else about Diya?"
R'vain, with his eyes on Miniyal, is impressively impassive about any holes being bored into his skull by his Weyrwoman. He's also uncharacteristically silent; Roa's said it all.
"It's not that simple. I can't just go around. . .I don't do that. When I learn something it's confidential." Miniyal looks up and lets her eyes slide from one to the other before she finds a spot that is neither of the other people present to stare at. "I'm just saying, the situation may be tricky as it is, but with her there it's just gotten a whole lot messier. Other exiles aside."
"That's unacceptable," Roa says, her tone light and easy enough that it nearly contradicts the words. "If you expect us to be open with you so that you can discover how to do your job, I expect that same courtesy returned. If you know something about Five Mines or the people there that could affect the choices we make about it, you've just stumbled on a bit of that duty you're expected to do despite your personal values."
"Diya's also, it should be noted, Weyrless. A renegade," adds R'vain in an easy, slow rumble, as if the words might need to be a little more careful than his usual clipped slur. "She's inherently a danger t'High Reaches." He tips down his chin and fixes all the sharp edges of his emerald gaze on that Weyr's newest junior, expectant.
"I'm just saying it's a slope you may not want me to have been sliding down in the future is all." Miniyal lets out another sigh and untangles fingers from each other to lift a hand. "And that was not a threat. I am not- I'm not going to repeat where either of you stand with me because I've made it clear in the past. I'm just saying, some things have always been black and white and it's been that way for a reason." Hand back down she twists at the ring on her finger in silence while she gathers her thoughts. "She turned on them once already is all I am saying. And they were stupid to trust her again. Because she already turned them in for her own gain. She finds a way to do it again I don't put it past her. And she won't come here to do that. She'll go around to someone else. To get what she wants."
"I trust you," and there is a slight emphasis on the middle word as Roa speaks it, "to be able to manage that slope, even with the changes required of it." There is a small nod for the news that Diya was the informant that stopped the exiles. "What is it she wants?"
"Where we stand with you," R'vain rumbles, softly, "changed on th'twenty-second day of th'fifth month." He leans back in the chair he's turned a little toward the table, so he can easily look at and between each of the women there, and tips up a swallow of klah before continuing. "Professionally. Personally, whatever. Secondary now." A flip of his other paw dismisses that. "How close y'figure she was t'them?"
The wisdom of that trust is up for debate, but Miniyal only nods at the words. So, rather than speak on it again she lets it go. "How close? She was one of them. And I can't confirm or deny where she went sometimes. I think she may have been in touch after they were exiled. I have no proof. I think, and it's only my opinion I have no proof, that when it became obvious they were going to be caught she turned on them. Turned them in to look good. To further her own desires. What does she want now? I don't know. She claims to have no personal ambition left. At least that's what she said when I talked to her last. But I worked for her a number of turns and I don't believe that. Issa might know, but I wouldn't trust her to tell the truth when it comes to the former weyrwoman."
There is another small nod for all of that. "Three, four potential factions just from the island, then," Roa mutters with a heavy sigh. "Faranth knows how many at Five Mines total. They'll be lucky if they all manage not to kill one another, at this point."
Emerald eyes narrow to near-slits, the green a wince-inducing contrast behind the cage of ruddy lashes. "Issa," he remarks, and flicks a sidelong glance to Roa. Guilt enough to spare. Back to Miniyal. "If not factions, at least various orders pushing f'slightly separate goals. Don't necessarily know what any of them are; history's too old t'necessarily be much help. You got anything else?"
"Right now? No, sir. But if something else comes to me I will let you both know." Miniyal lets her ring be and stands up again. "If that's all? Might I be excused? Someone needs to eat." See, she doesn't ask for herself. She asks for the one who put them in the situation of having to deal with her. Shuffling her feet she shoves her hands into her pockets and spares a tiny glance for R'vain and then Roa. "I'm real sorry for causing trouble. I'd say it won't happen again, but we know that'd be a lie. Still, sorry for ruining your morning and all. Sir. Ma'am."
There is a small shrug from the weyrwoman. Happened before. Will happen again. "Thank you for telling us. Unless R'vain has anything to add, I'd say you're dismissed." There is another faint smile that hitches the corner of Roa's lips at those words.
"Only that if you get any static from D'ven t'send him t'me," the Weyrleader provides, tipping up his klah mug after-- but he stops before taking a sip and adds, from the rim of the cup with a bit of a grin, "Goin' t'have t'have you up once in a while anyway, figure, few months down th'line. He'll get used to it."
Miniyal's eyes roll and she grins. "Static from D'ven is a way of life. If I weren't making him pull out his hair he'd think I was up to no good. Keep him looking for plain sight trouble and anything else is easier to get away with. Not that I'm up to anything." She waits til she gets to the door before she salutes, not that it's worth noting, how she does it and all, and then she really does leave.