Necessary Assistance
Location: D'ven and Teraneth's Weyr
Time: Evening on Day 10, Month 4, Turn 3
Players: D'ven and Roa
Scene: The weyrwoman stops by to see how the new weyrlingmaster is settling in (and she goes to bat for a certain greenriding candidate for weyrlingmaster's assistant).
It's mid-evening, and D'ven has found some time to return to his weyr. It's not somewhere the Weyrlingmaster sees much of, anymore, but here he is. He's currently laying on his back, stretched out, on the bed, hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. He isn't even bothered taking his boots off, the whole place seeming a little unfamiliar.
Wingbeats announce an arrival on the ledge, although the dragon that does the winging is a blue currently on elevator duty. There are quiet words exchanged...thanks for the lift and the like, before there's a 'knock' or the best that can be managed on D'ven's curtain.
"Come in." D'ven calls out, not bothering to get up off the bed for a moment. He'll see who it is first, since he's in his own home. And perhaps more importantly, the bed is comfy. It's the kind of bed that whispers 'I've missed you, D'ven'. And in truth, the man has missed the bed too.
Amidst all the whispering between man and bed, a small head peeks in and is followed by the rest of the weyrwoman's slight figure. "Hi. Am I interrupting anything?"
"Not at all." D'ven replies with a smile, getting up off the bed when he sees who his visitor is. "Can I get you anything?" The offer is made as he moves towards the desk and arranges the chairs. "Please, sit down. How have you been doing?"
"Mmm...maybe some klah, if you have it? Days seem to be getting the best of me, lately. I get droopy before I should." Roa pads over to a seat and flops down, assuming the rather unweyrwomanly posture of slouching low and letting her legs stretch out before her. "How have you been? Besides busy, I mean. Does it feel any more like you're actually who they say you are?"
D'ven pours out some klah, offering it over. "I always try and have some on hand, for similar reasons." He admits, sliding into his own seat. "Yes and no, at the same time. Sometimes I worry about ending up as The Weyrlingmaster and nothing else, if I'm not careful. Other times I still walk into that office and expect to see R'vain sitting there. What about you?"
She leans forward, curling her fingers around the mug before slouching again. "Thanks," Roa murmurs for the drink. "I don't know. I miss being treated mostly normally. People keep saluting and nobody lets me just stand in the lunch line anymore. I don't know what they except. It's a tall order to be myself and not disappoint. Which I suppose is the same problem you have, in a way." She takes a sip of the klah. "Tia's already getting bored being tied to the sands. That's a whole other adventure. But, I like feeling like I'm in a position to really help. To hear folks and do what I can to make things better."
"Yeah. So many people call me Sir, now, and it's much harder to talk them out of it." D'ven agrees with a sympathetic nod. "And I hate going anywhere with large amounts of people, unless they're close friends. You wander past and the conversation just dries up, you know?" There's a pause. "I have to admit, Tia's managed to get me worried."
"Sir. Ma'am. It's horrid to be on this end of it," Roa agrees with a little laugh. "It's been turns since anybody's been inclined to just call me Roa. i find, at least, that I can get some decent conversation at lunch. I'll pick a table, keep quiet, and just keep an ear open. Eventually, people begin talking around me." She blinks. sitting up straight. "Tia has? Did she do something?"
D'ven nods, sighing slightly even as his lips make a half-smile. "I wasn't expecting a gold my first time out, so to speak." There's a thoughtful pause. "It's going to be two Weyrlingmaster-firsts for me. First clutch that's mine from hatching, and first gold."
There is a long blink, and then Roa laughs, shaking her head. "First heart attack given to a weyrwoman, too. I thought she's tried to hurt somebody. I suppose," sip, "that if you're going to plunge in, you may as well plunge in all the way. We're not so different from other riders, really."
"I'll add it to my list. And here I thought I was done with firsts involving women." D'ven replies, with his own soft laugh. "And yes, you have a point. And maybe not when you get right down to it, but she's going someone people look to right from the get go. A leader. And I have to teach her, and keep her alive. It's just a little nerve-wracking."
"I shouldn't think keeping her alive would be so very hard. It's not as if she'll be flying in the A wing," Roa smirks faintly. "It takes considerable effort or considerable disaster to get hurt flying way down below, the way we do. She'll be a leader, one way or the other, but you and she will both have access to me and to R'vain and the other wingleaders and weyrwomen. You're responsible for planning what she learns and who teaches her, but nobody expects you to do it on your own. I don't. I wouldn't want you to. She's going to be working closely with me and the other leadership. We'd all like a chance to know her as she settles. I'd like a chance to help with all the weyrlings, really. They're Tia's and, anyhow, I'd like to know and watch." She takes another sip before lowering the mug to her knees. "Speaking of help, how goes the hunt for assistants?"
"Somehow, while I know all of that, it doesn't help." D'ven admits with a slight sigh. "I'm still ultimately responsible for her. And that just baffles my mind." At the question of assistants, there's another sigh. "Well, it's going. I don't have that many options, for various reasons. I think Issa is one of my best, and she came well recommended. But she just seems...very different to me, when it comes to approach to Weyrling education."
"Ultimately," Roa corrects gently, "she's responsible for herself. You guide her, but she'll choose her own way. They all will, I think, even if what they choose is to follow orders as single-mindedly as you like." She tips her head down to study the drink in her hands, turning the mug slowly. "What is it about Issa's differences that worry you?"
"She talks about teaching rigid structures as though it was harmful to the Weyrlings. And she was too honest with me." D'ven eventually explains, after some thought. "It doesn't make sense. I can't put my finger on it, but I just find something disconcerting about her being so open with the fact she thinks my teachings are problematic, and not seeming to realise this might not have been the best thing she could have said. I don't know, something just didn't feel right."
"Well," Roa considers, her head canting to the side, "have you asked -her- about it?"
D'ven shakes his head. "I did at the time, and she started talking about it being complementary rather than in opposition. But I couldn't now. I'd sound paranoid, like some crazy old man. You know I'm going to be thirty within a turn? I always thought thirty was really old."
"Did you?" Roa asks, smiling faintly. "Do you still? I think ages only seem old because we can't imagine ourselves there yet. And then, one day, here we are." She lifts the mug and sips. "I don't think you'd sound paranoid, and I don't think you want an assistant you feel you can't trust or can't speak to honestly. But," up goes one eyebrow as the weyrwoman studies the weyrlingmaster, "no reason you can't call her into your office to speak with her again. No reason you can't say you've narrowed the pool of applicants and are having those who remain in for a second interview."
"Hmm, now that I could do." D'ven agrees with a nod. "And to be honest, the pool has somewhat narrowed itself. I guess nobody wants to work for a grumpy old man." There's a grin, clearly he's at least half-joking. "And yes, I do still think it's old. Kind of. I don't think people who are over thirty are really old, but it seems really old for me. If that makes any sense."
There is a small nod from the weyrwoman and then she restates D'ven's last words in her own way. "You didn't think you'd live this long, did you." It isn't really a question. "Maybe it's just that nobody wants to work with weyrlings. Can I ask you something?" Sip.
"I figure I've got maybe another ten turns." D'ven murmurs. It's not quite an answer, but it's confirmation of her statement. "And sure, you know you can. Ask away." He leans forward then, to indicate interest and attentiveness.
"Well, I suppose that's a nice, long run," Roa says lightly. Only there is just the faintest hint of something not-at-all-light in her words and a tightness in the corners of her mouth as she stares down at her klah. "If it were me applying for the job of assistant. I mean, supposing I wasn't weyrwoman and all, would you hire me?"
"I reckon so. I've packed plenty into it already." D'ven smiles, apparently entirely serious and not at all troubled by the idea. "Huh. Well, that's an interesting question. I don't really know. Are we supposing I know everything I know about you, and visa versa, but you're just not weyrwoman? Or that I don't know anything about you being an interview?"
"Supposing you know everything about me, but maybe that I don't know so much about you," is Roa's quiet answer, her blue eyes lifted and watchful.
D'ven considers for a moment. "I think you'd be good at it, but I'd have to seriously wonder whether you'd be happy doing it. Given you don't exactly agree with my way of thinking."
"And if I said I understood we didn't agree and wanted to help anyhow?" Roa cants her head to the side, "why would you hire me?"
"Because I trust you, and I'd figure you knew what you were getting into and were going to back me rather than trying to undermine me even though we didn't agree." D'ven replies. "So yes, in that situation I probably would. Though I'd ask why you wanted to help."
"And Issa. You don't trust her? You don't think she'll back you? What makes you hesitate over her when you'd hire me, knowing I believe what I do?" Roa takes another small sip before setting her mug on the ground.
"It's not so much that I don't trust her, but...I hardly know her, Roa." D'ven points out. "Of course I don't hesitate over you. We've been through a lot together, and some of it relied heavily on trust. Issa I think I've spoken too twice, three times maybe."
"You didn't always trust me," Roa notes. "And it isn't Issa's fault anymore than it's yours that you don't know one another. How well do you know the other applicants?"
D'ven considers this for a moment. "Well, there aren't really any applications. I was given some recommendations, and just worked off them. And yeah, you're right. I don't really know any of them."
A small nod from Roa. "And if you had the choice between me and someone who believed in raising up weyrlings as you do, who would you pick?"
"Well, I'd probably take both. I mean, I was hoping for two assistants." D'ven replies, avoiding the question for a moment. "But if I had to choose? I don't know. This hypothetical person is just a belief, whereas you're you. There's a lot more to people than a belief. So it would depend on who they were, and how things were."
"That's a bit of avoiding right there," the weyrwoman notes, "but I think perhaps your trouble is that you have only beliefs and ideas, rather than anyone you know well. You're going to have to take a risk, no matter how you cut it."
D'ven laughs, though it's not entirely humorous. "Of course it's avoiding. You were asking me to make the choice between a close friend, who I know could do the job well, and someone who would have seen things the way I did. Not a choice I want to make, and I'm grateful I don't have to." There's a nod then. "Yes, I'm going to have to take a risk. But maybe I can make it a better informed risk. What do you think about Issa, for this job?"
The weyrwoman drums her fingers against her klah cup as she mulls the question around for a long moment. "I think," she begins carefully, "that you are about as likely to convince Issa of your way of thinking as she is to convince you of hers. I think she wants the opportunity to be more than a rider in a wing. I think she wants it enough not to sabotage it when she gets it. I think ultimately what you'd both want would be weyrlings that will survive to be skilled and experienced riders. I think giving them a taste of other sorts of approaches would be wise, because not every rider they'll meet after graduation will run things the same way. If you only expose them to a single approach, how will they respond when asked too do another? Will their beliefs hold up, if you don't allow them to be challenged until they graduate?" Roa smirks and shakes her head. "In short, I think Issa would be a good pick. If you want a thinking and dedicated rider to help you, she'd be a fine choice."
"There's nothing wrong with being a rider in a wing, especially not for a greenrider." D'ven comments thoughtfully, as if taking notes somewhere inside his head. "And I can see some of what you're saying. People keep bringing this up, the challenge their beliefs thing. On the one hand, it makes sense. On the other hand, it's such a formative time for them. Exposing them to dangerously unorthodox beliefs might be...counterproductive."
"Whether there's anything wrong with it or not, it does not change that Issa would prefer something else," Roa replies with a shrug. To the rest she frowns faintly, opens her mouth, inhales...and says nothing. After several long moments she begins again, carefully, "Has R'vain gone over any of his flight and wing formation ideas with you?"
"Not particularly." D'ven replies with a shake of his head. "I've read through his Weyrlingmaster notes, of course, but nothing more than that in terms of flight and wing formations. To be honest, I think he's being very careful around me. He keeps prodding me to take breaks, not that I'm ungrateful for it. Doesn't want me folding under the stress, I guess."
"Well, he did the job for ten turns. I suppose it's possible he understands what you're going through better than you do just now." Roa quirks her lips up into a half-smile. "Ask him," she advises. "Ask him about the wings he wants to create." She peers back down at her half-drunk klah, her reflection wavering back at her. "You may need Issa more than you think."
D'ven considers this for a moment, and the implications. And then dismisses them. R'vain is a stalwart, not exactly totally traditional, but not one to go messing with things that much. And besides, it doesn't fit with the image of the friend that has supported him in his push to a more traditional way of handling the Weyrlings. "I'm not at all sure what you mean."
"I'm not at all sure it's my place to say any more," the weyrwoman replies, polishing off the rest of the cooling klah in three large gulps. "Ask him."
"Perhaps I will." D'ven replies, in a way that suggests he won't be rushing off to R'vain. A way that suggests this is way down his list of priorities. Because really, it is. This doesn't worry him in the slightest. Honest.
"Mmm," murmurs Roa, eyeing the weyrlingmaster thoughtfully. "As you like. I should probably be going. Work and then, I think..." she pauses to swallow down a yawn, "despite the klah maybe I'll turn in early. See if I can't catch up on some of the rest my body insists I'm lacking."
D'ven nods. "Well, sleep well when you do. It was nice seeing you." He's rising, then, to see his guest out. "Feel free to drop by again."
His guest pushes up, stretches, and makes for the ledge. "Would you mind having Teraneth call Fesith back up to drop me off?" Roa yawns again. "And I'll be curious to hear. What you decide."
"Not at all, though I'm perfectly happy to take you down myself." D'ven replies, before nodding. "Well, I'll let you know." And then he'll either have Fesith called or take Roa down, whichever she prefers.
Time: Evening on Day 10, Month 4, Turn 3
Players: D'ven and Roa
Scene: The weyrwoman stops by to see how the new weyrlingmaster is settling in (and she goes to bat for a certain greenriding candidate for weyrlingmaster's assistant).
It's mid-evening, and D'ven has found some time to return to his weyr. It's not somewhere the Weyrlingmaster sees much of, anymore, but here he is. He's currently laying on his back, stretched out, on the bed, hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. He isn't even bothered taking his boots off, the whole place seeming a little unfamiliar.
Wingbeats announce an arrival on the ledge, although the dragon that does the winging is a blue currently on elevator duty. There are quiet words exchanged...thanks for the lift and the like, before there's a 'knock' or the best that can be managed on D'ven's curtain.
"Come in." D'ven calls out, not bothering to get up off the bed for a moment. He'll see who it is first, since he's in his own home. And perhaps more importantly, the bed is comfy. It's the kind of bed that whispers 'I've missed you, D'ven'. And in truth, the man has missed the bed too.
Amidst all the whispering between man and bed, a small head peeks in and is followed by the rest of the weyrwoman's slight figure. "Hi. Am I interrupting anything?"
"Not at all." D'ven replies with a smile, getting up off the bed when he sees who his visitor is. "Can I get you anything?" The offer is made as he moves towards the desk and arranges the chairs. "Please, sit down. How have you been doing?"
"Mmm...maybe some klah, if you have it? Days seem to be getting the best of me, lately. I get droopy before I should." Roa pads over to a seat and flops down, assuming the rather unweyrwomanly posture of slouching low and letting her legs stretch out before her. "How have you been? Besides busy, I mean. Does it feel any more like you're actually who they say you are?"
D'ven pours out some klah, offering it over. "I always try and have some on hand, for similar reasons." He admits, sliding into his own seat. "Yes and no, at the same time. Sometimes I worry about ending up as The Weyrlingmaster and nothing else, if I'm not careful. Other times I still walk into that office and expect to see R'vain sitting there. What about you?"
She leans forward, curling her fingers around the mug before slouching again. "Thanks," Roa murmurs for the drink. "I don't know. I miss being treated mostly normally. People keep saluting and nobody lets me just stand in the lunch line anymore. I don't know what they except. It's a tall order to be myself and not disappoint. Which I suppose is the same problem you have, in a way." She takes a sip of the klah. "Tia's already getting bored being tied to the sands. That's a whole other adventure. But, I like feeling like I'm in a position to really help. To hear folks and do what I can to make things better."
"Yeah. So many people call me Sir, now, and it's much harder to talk them out of it." D'ven agrees with a sympathetic nod. "And I hate going anywhere with large amounts of people, unless they're close friends. You wander past and the conversation just dries up, you know?" There's a pause. "I have to admit, Tia's managed to get me worried."
"Sir. Ma'am. It's horrid to be on this end of it," Roa agrees with a little laugh. "It's been turns since anybody's been inclined to just call me Roa. i find, at least, that I can get some decent conversation at lunch. I'll pick a table, keep quiet, and just keep an ear open. Eventually, people begin talking around me." She blinks. sitting up straight. "Tia has? Did she do something?"
D'ven nods, sighing slightly even as his lips make a half-smile. "I wasn't expecting a gold my first time out, so to speak." There's a thoughtful pause. "It's going to be two Weyrlingmaster-firsts for me. First clutch that's mine from hatching, and first gold."
There is a long blink, and then Roa laughs, shaking her head. "First heart attack given to a weyrwoman, too. I thought she's tried to hurt somebody. I suppose," sip, "that if you're going to plunge in, you may as well plunge in all the way. We're not so different from other riders, really."
"I'll add it to my list. And here I thought I was done with firsts involving women." D'ven replies, with his own soft laugh. "And yes, you have a point. And maybe not when you get right down to it, but she's going someone people look to right from the get go. A leader. And I have to teach her, and keep her alive. It's just a little nerve-wracking."
"I shouldn't think keeping her alive would be so very hard. It's not as if she'll be flying in the A wing," Roa smirks faintly. "It takes considerable effort or considerable disaster to get hurt flying way down below, the way we do. She'll be a leader, one way or the other, but you and she will both have access to me and to R'vain and the other wingleaders and weyrwomen. You're responsible for planning what she learns and who teaches her, but nobody expects you to do it on your own. I don't. I wouldn't want you to. She's going to be working closely with me and the other leadership. We'd all like a chance to know her as she settles. I'd like a chance to help with all the weyrlings, really. They're Tia's and, anyhow, I'd like to know and watch." She takes another sip before lowering the mug to her knees. "Speaking of help, how goes the hunt for assistants?"
"Somehow, while I know all of that, it doesn't help." D'ven admits with a slight sigh. "I'm still ultimately responsible for her. And that just baffles my mind." At the question of assistants, there's another sigh. "Well, it's going. I don't have that many options, for various reasons. I think Issa is one of my best, and she came well recommended. But she just seems...very different to me, when it comes to approach to Weyrling education."
"Ultimately," Roa corrects gently, "she's responsible for herself. You guide her, but she'll choose her own way. They all will, I think, even if what they choose is to follow orders as single-mindedly as you like." She tips her head down to study the drink in her hands, turning the mug slowly. "What is it about Issa's differences that worry you?"
"She talks about teaching rigid structures as though it was harmful to the Weyrlings. And she was too honest with me." D'ven eventually explains, after some thought. "It doesn't make sense. I can't put my finger on it, but I just find something disconcerting about her being so open with the fact she thinks my teachings are problematic, and not seeming to realise this might not have been the best thing she could have said. I don't know, something just didn't feel right."
"Well," Roa considers, her head canting to the side, "have you asked -her- about it?"
D'ven shakes his head. "I did at the time, and she started talking about it being complementary rather than in opposition. But I couldn't now. I'd sound paranoid, like some crazy old man. You know I'm going to be thirty within a turn? I always thought thirty was really old."
"Did you?" Roa asks, smiling faintly. "Do you still? I think ages only seem old because we can't imagine ourselves there yet. And then, one day, here we are." She lifts the mug and sips. "I don't think you'd sound paranoid, and I don't think you want an assistant you feel you can't trust or can't speak to honestly. But," up goes one eyebrow as the weyrwoman studies the weyrlingmaster, "no reason you can't call her into your office to speak with her again. No reason you can't say you've narrowed the pool of applicants and are having those who remain in for a second interview."
"Hmm, now that I could do." D'ven agrees with a nod. "And to be honest, the pool has somewhat narrowed itself. I guess nobody wants to work for a grumpy old man." There's a grin, clearly he's at least half-joking. "And yes, I do still think it's old. Kind of. I don't think people who are over thirty are really old, but it seems really old for me. If that makes any sense."
There is a small nod from the weyrwoman and then she restates D'ven's last words in her own way. "You didn't think you'd live this long, did you." It isn't really a question. "Maybe it's just that nobody wants to work with weyrlings. Can I ask you something?" Sip.
"I figure I've got maybe another ten turns." D'ven murmurs. It's not quite an answer, but it's confirmation of her statement. "And sure, you know you can. Ask away." He leans forward then, to indicate interest and attentiveness.
"Well, I suppose that's a nice, long run," Roa says lightly. Only there is just the faintest hint of something not-at-all-light in her words and a tightness in the corners of her mouth as she stares down at her klah. "If it were me applying for the job of assistant. I mean, supposing I wasn't weyrwoman and all, would you hire me?"
"I reckon so. I've packed plenty into it already." D'ven smiles, apparently entirely serious and not at all troubled by the idea. "Huh. Well, that's an interesting question. I don't really know. Are we supposing I know everything I know about you, and visa versa, but you're just not weyrwoman? Or that I don't know anything about you being an interview?"
"Supposing you know everything about me, but maybe that I don't know so much about you," is Roa's quiet answer, her blue eyes lifted and watchful.
D'ven considers for a moment. "I think you'd be good at it, but I'd have to seriously wonder whether you'd be happy doing it. Given you don't exactly agree with my way of thinking."
"And if I said I understood we didn't agree and wanted to help anyhow?" Roa cants her head to the side, "why would you hire me?"
"Because I trust you, and I'd figure you knew what you were getting into and were going to back me rather than trying to undermine me even though we didn't agree." D'ven replies. "So yes, in that situation I probably would. Though I'd ask why you wanted to help."
"And Issa. You don't trust her? You don't think she'll back you? What makes you hesitate over her when you'd hire me, knowing I believe what I do?" Roa takes another small sip before setting her mug on the ground.
"It's not so much that I don't trust her, but...I hardly know her, Roa." D'ven points out. "Of course I don't hesitate over you. We've been through a lot together, and some of it relied heavily on trust. Issa I think I've spoken too twice, three times maybe."
"You didn't always trust me," Roa notes. "And it isn't Issa's fault anymore than it's yours that you don't know one another. How well do you know the other applicants?"
D'ven considers this for a moment. "Well, there aren't really any applications. I was given some recommendations, and just worked off them. And yeah, you're right. I don't really know any of them."
A small nod from Roa. "And if you had the choice between me and someone who believed in raising up weyrlings as you do, who would you pick?"
"Well, I'd probably take both. I mean, I was hoping for two assistants." D'ven replies, avoiding the question for a moment. "But if I had to choose? I don't know. This hypothetical person is just a belief, whereas you're you. There's a lot more to people than a belief. So it would depend on who they were, and how things were."
"That's a bit of avoiding right there," the weyrwoman notes, "but I think perhaps your trouble is that you have only beliefs and ideas, rather than anyone you know well. You're going to have to take a risk, no matter how you cut it."
D'ven laughs, though it's not entirely humorous. "Of course it's avoiding. You were asking me to make the choice between a close friend, who I know could do the job well, and someone who would have seen things the way I did. Not a choice I want to make, and I'm grateful I don't have to." There's a nod then. "Yes, I'm going to have to take a risk. But maybe I can make it a better informed risk. What do you think about Issa, for this job?"
The weyrwoman drums her fingers against her klah cup as she mulls the question around for a long moment. "I think," she begins carefully, "that you are about as likely to convince Issa of your way of thinking as she is to convince you of hers. I think she wants the opportunity to be more than a rider in a wing. I think she wants it enough not to sabotage it when she gets it. I think ultimately what you'd both want would be weyrlings that will survive to be skilled and experienced riders. I think giving them a taste of other sorts of approaches would be wise, because not every rider they'll meet after graduation will run things the same way. If you only expose them to a single approach, how will they respond when asked too do another? Will their beliefs hold up, if you don't allow them to be challenged until they graduate?" Roa smirks and shakes her head. "In short, I think Issa would be a good pick. If you want a thinking and dedicated rider to help you, she'd be a fine choice."
"There's nothing wrong with being a rider in a wing, especially not for a greenrider." D'ven comments thoughtfully, as if taking notes somewhere inside his head. "And I can see some of what you're saying. People keep bringing this up, the challenge their beliefs thing. On the one hand, it makes sense. On the other hand, it's such a formative time for them. Exposing them to dangerously unorthodox beliefs might be...counterproductive."
"Whether there's anything wrong with it or not, it does not change that Issa would prefer something else," Roa replies with a shrug. To the rest she frowns faintly, opens her mouth, inhales...and says nothing. After several long moments she begins again, carefully, "Has R'vain gone over any of his flight and wing formation ideas with you?"
"Not particularly." D'ven replies with a shake of his head. "I've read through his Weyrlingmaster notes, of course, but nothing more than that in terms of flight and wing formations. To be honest, I think he's being very careful around me. He keeps prodding me to take breaks, not that I'm ungrateful for it. Doesn't want me folding under the stress, I guess."
"Well, he did the job for ten turns. I suppose it's possible he understands what you're going through better than you do just now." Roa quirks her lips up into a half-smile. "Ask him," she advises. "Ask him about the wings he wants to create." She peers back down at her half-drunk klah, her reflection wavering back at her. "You may need Issa more than you think."
D'ven considers this for a moment, and the implications. And then dismisses them. R'vain is a stalwart, not exactly totally traditional, but not one to go messing with things that much. And besides, it doesn't fit with the image of the friend that has supported him in his push to a more traditional way of handling the Weyrlings. "I'm not at all sure what you mean."
"I'm not at all sure it's my place to say any more," the weyrwoman replies, polishing off the rest of the cooling klah in three large gulps. "Ask him."
"Perhaps I will." D'ven replies, in a way that suggests he won't be rushing off to R'vain. A way that suggests this is way down his list of priorities. Because really, it is. This doesn't worry him in the slightest. Honest.
"Mmm," murmurs Roa, eyeing the weyrlingmaster thoughtfully. "As you like. I should probably be going. Work and then, I think..." she pauses to swallow down a yawn, "despite the klah maybe I'll turn in early. See if I can't catch up on some of the rest my body insists I'm lacking."
D'ven nods. "Well, sleep well when you do. It was nice seeing you." He's rising, then, to see his guest out. "Feel free to drop by again."
His guest pushes up, stretches, and makes for the ledge. "Would you mind having Teraneth call Fesith back up to drop me off?" Roa yawns again. "And I'll be curious to hear. What you decide."
"Not at all, though I'm perfectly happy to take you down myself." D'ven replies, before nodding. "Well, I'll let you know." And then he'll either have Fesith called or take Roa down, whichever she prefers.