It Comes Together
Location: Weyrleader's Office
Time: Evening on Day 14, Month 7, Turn 2
Players: Roa, D'ven, Aida, J'cor
Scene: The trio come to the Weyrleader and tell what they know.
Weyrleaders' Office
Much of the formal and informal business that concerns the weyrleaders is conducted here. As such, an effort has been made to keep this chamber comfortable out of respect for the long hours of work required to keep the Weyr running. The walls are bright with tapestries and the floors warm with thick rugs. A large sandtable holds pride of place in the center of the room, one half covered with a sheet of glass to serve as a writing surface. A second, smaller table holds whatever writing implements and record hides are needed by the staff. The chairs that ring this area are thickly cushioned but otherwise undecorated.
The stairs that led into the complex from the bowl continue up to the right, taking one into the Weyrleader's weyr. A large tunnel to the left curves down to the senior Weyrwoman's weyr, broken only by the smaller tunnel that leads to one of the junior's weyrs. The last tunnel, opposite the entrance, leads to the second junior's weyr.
There are people already waiting for the weyrleader, the newest Reachian weyrwoman among them. She stands, quiet and quite still, in the middle of the room, shoulders back, chin high. Her left arm is bent at the elbow forming an 'L', fingers curled around the upper arm of the right. They squeeze, release, squeeze again, but there is no other movement from the girl. Save that, when J'cor appears, her lips move. "Weyrleader. Thank you for coming."
D'ven, who appears to have gone to extra effort to make himself the model of neatness for this particular meeting, is also present. He's standing next to Aida, though he keeps pacing while waiting. When J'cor arrives the pacing stops, and he inclines his head toward the man. "Weyrleader."
Standing in Roa's general vicinity, Aida is alternating between watching the pacing D'ven and studying the room. In contrast to the other two, her own posture is relaxed and fairly casual, her arms loosely crossed across just above her stomach, her shoulders not stiff. When Roa greets the Weyrleader, she shifts on her feet and turns her head to look that way, lips curving up into a lopsided smile. "Weyrleader, sir," she echoes the greeting of the other two, though there's a hint of dry amusement that lingers somewhere in her tone.
Conveniently close to his office when he received the call, J'cor is quick to descend from his private weyr as ordered. A pipe dangles from the loose grip of his fingers, dying out while he holds it, and brings with it the smell of smoke to dispel both J'cor's odor and the sterile cleanliness of the now rare-used office. Seeing the three assembled for him within it, though, J'cor stops short in the entrance, his gaze flicking to each one in turn at their greetings. At last he offers a solemn nod, moving past them to lean back against his desk, and ignoring his usual high-backed chair on the other side. "Indeed," he says slowly, twisting the pipestem in his fingers. Another brief survey of the trio's composition, and he winds up back on Roa. An eyebrow raises.
"Sir," J'cor's eyes are on Roa and so it is Roa that takes a step forward and begins it. "We," a pause to look towards the pacing bronzerider, "Wingsecond D'ven," then her eyes travel to the calmly relaxed woman, "Aida," and back to J'cor, "and myself...have allegations to put forward. I believe we know who has been behind the attacks on those who openly supported yourself and the former Weyrwoman. Attacks on the Weyr at large."
D'ven, no longer pacing, steps up beside Roa. Quite why isn't clear, perhaps merely to lend her his support and so she isn't all alone. "We have evidence to back up our accusations, Sir." He murmurs, hands folding behind his back as he stands ramrod straight.
There's no stepping forward for Aida, no movement made to draw further attention to herself. She only shifts on her feet so that she's facing the same direction the other two are, bringing her arms up lightly to cross them over her chest. No words are offered, nothing added to what the other two have said. Quiet, she is.
J'cor, forewarned of something odd by their behavior, is not incredibly surprised at the explanation. His eyes do thin while he gathers his thoughts, the hand without the pipe jerking forwards a little bit; but he's gathered himself by the time D'ven has finished speaking, and his hand settles back down to the desk. If his forefinger briefly taps his thumb, forming a little ring there, it's the only hint of tension he allows, and it lasts only a second. "Then share it," he commands.
"E'sere." And there it is. The name that has been whispered by some, admired by others, muttered over, revered, cursed. Now spoken by Roa plainly, clearly, and for a single purpose. She stands straighter and, were it anyone else who wasn't quite so small, taller. "We can link him to the woman who attacked Issa and T'zen and, quite likely, myself and others. We can also link him to the men that kidnapped Aida and the one who attacked Ulyath's clutch. We can link him to Leyron's blackmail and very probably his murder."
D'ven doesn't have much to add, though he does make one small comment. "As part of the link to the woman behind the attacks, Sir, we can also show that he outright lied in an attempt to both protect the true culprit and pin the blame unfairly on an innocent."
More silence, from Aida. The smile has faded now to be replaced with an impassive expression, her eyes drifting to the back of Roa's head, then D'ven's, and then back to J'cor's face. No tension, still; she's all calm. And still, she apparently has nothing to add.
J'cor looks at Aida, though, when her name is mentioned. Her silent presence hasn't gone unnoticed, just unremarked; he meets her calm gaze with a level one to match. Then he pushes off the table, the still-cooling pipe cradled by the bowl in his right hand. "All those. He /has/ been busy." A quick glance down at his pipe, then up to D'ven, this time. "Link it for me."
Roa's hand finally, slowly, releases her other arm and she turns to look over and up at the bronzerider beside her. She seems, if not happy to turn over the speaking to him, then certainly willing.
"I'll start, sir, with the bit that relates to my earlier comment." D'ven begins, after a moment's silence to gather his words. "E'sere recently told T'zen the woman who attacked him had been dealt with, the implication being by himself. He handed over a tunic as proof of his claims, one that matched exactly with the piece that T'zen had managed to remove in his encounter with his assailant. E'sere said he got this tunic from a woman named Peria." There's a pause. "However, the men who held Aida captive boasted to her at length of messing with this poor woman. She is not the assailant, sir. And thus, the fact that E'sere was able to obtain the tunic but seeks to pin the blame elsewhere shows a clear connection, and that he has reason to fear the true assailant being captured." Another pause. "I would hand you back to Roa at this juncture sir, if you have no objection, for she has more detailed knowledge of the next bits of evidence than myself."
The meeting of her gaze by J'cor is not shied away from; Aida holds it, her expression unchanging. He's watched, then, until his eyes go to D'ven and he gives direction there, and then her gaze is swinging that way as well. No nod, no anything; when Roa is mentioned, her attention shifts again, this time to settle on the goldrider. Everything is observed. Surprise surprise -- quietly.
J'cor's pipe has at long last cooled enough that he can set it down safely, and the Weyrleader takes a moment to do just that as he twists back towards his desk. As he returns, his eyes slide smoothly over to Roa, and he offers her a small nod, indicating that she should pick up the thread. Through D'ven's recitation, his collected composure has suffered a few small cracks, allowing one more ring-finger and a thinning of the eyes when the pieces of D'ven's explanation come together, but he's repairing it while he listens to Roa.
A small nod as the little weyrwoman readies herself to speak once more. "I can also add, sir, that I have seen Peria, and I saw, when I was attacked, the eyes of my assailant if nothing else. Hers were pale. Peria's are brown. They are not the same woman." A small breath. "Leyron. Two months ago, Kierom spoke with me about E'sere, because he was convinced he had something to do with blackmailing Leyron. He wouldn't tell me how, but, recently...this morning...he has. K'rom said that he was approached by E'sere and asked to assist in blackmailing. He was also introduced to a good friend of E'sere's. A friend named Donavon. He has agreed to share his piece with you, sir, and at a trial, when it comes to that." Now Roa glances to Aida. "Perhaps, Aida, you might share why the name Donavon is so particularly important?"
D'ven listens as Roa speaks, his attention on the Weyrleader rather than the weyrwoman. When Aida is queued up, he glances over to the woman for a moment before his eyes return to J'cor.
Ah, she has to speak. Aida turns her head so she can look at Roa more squarely, then gives a slight dip of her head. She doesn't step forward, no, staying behind the other two -- but she looks past them to J'cor all the same. "Donavon was the one at the lead of my kidnapping," she explains, voice quiet but very certain. Absolutely sure, and entirely calm. Even when called upon, she is not losing that touch of relaxation. "He also, when he was apprehended, requested that Captain Jensen make a deal with him -- he would tell the Captain who it was behind the attacks, in return for being exiled. He named Peria. Katric named Peria as their target, Leyron, as their target. Donavon himself stated that they were under orders to take me and keep me, but that the person they were working for did not wish me dead. Katric confessed to me their little group's involvement in the majority of the troubles." She pauses, only long enough to lend her last words a bit more weight. "At the behest of another. I would also bring forth another name that does not wish to be brought into all of this, but I will name her all the same. I was originally approached by Miniyal, sir. She is the one that told me that it was E'sere that I needed be worried about, and it was at that prompting that I began poking into these things."
J'cor raises his eyebrows expectantly when she offers to name an unwilling name, and those eyebrows go even higher when Miniyal's is the one that comes out. A surprised pause barely has time to settle in before he cuts into it with, "I see. Did she mention where her suspicions came from, or not?" He checks in with Roa and D'ven while he speaks, watching their expressions as they watch his, and returns to Aida while he listens.
Actually, that one caught Roa a bit by surprise too. Yep, those eyebrows twitch upwards just a little as Miniyal's name is mentioned. With a small sigh she adds, "K'rom's partner, N'ka, also has information on E'sere. He is reluctant to step forward. Frightened, I think."
"And who can blame him." D'ven murmurs. His own face, finely tuned from turns of dragon poker, betrays nothing when the name Miniyal is mentioned. "It occurs to me, sir, that there may be others we do not know about, who are similarly frightened to step forward."
"She said she watches, sir," Aida replies quietly, once the other two have said their words, and giving a very light shake of her head as she does so. "She had no evidence, only suspicions; it was left to me to find evidence. She watches and she listens, and she pays attention. She said that it was clear to her, who is so familiar with this place and these people, that E'sere was not pleased, was not the perfect picture that he was playing at being, and that there was something wrong. I do not bring it up to note that she has further proof of these things; if she does, she will not be sharing it. I bring her suspicions up on the basis that she is indeed something that none of us are; someone who has lived here her whole life, and is familiar with the people involved. It is proof of another sort." A hand is lifted, finally, and waved up and off to the side in a vague gesture. If the surprise (or lack thereof) registers, she's not giving any indication -- for the moment, those blue eyes are locked upon J'cor.
J'cor tilts his chin down and a little sideways at the extra information added by Roa and D'ven, but he waits out Aida's response before he'll say anything about it. "A character witness. Indeed." His hands come together in front of him, arms locking over his chest, and he allows a thin frown onto his features. "Indeed," he says again, more quietly. Another beat and then he looks back up at them, a spark of energy showing in his eyes after so much composure, though the frown remains set. "And they will not come forward unless they feel safe. Naturally. Aida," and it's back to her, for once she starts talking she apparently can't escape, "you spoke with his people. Tell me, your opinion - why are they 'his people'? Loyalty, ambition -?" He trails the words off, allowing her to fill in.
Mimicking the Weyrleader, though not consciously, Roa's arms also come forward to cross over her chest, fingers curling around her elbows. She's watching Aida, now.
D'ven's hands remain where they are, folded behind his back, clasped together. His gaze remains on J'cor, expression neutral as can be.
"Mmm." That's Aida's initial response, the question given some measure of consideration, and it takes her eyes down and to the side as she mulls it over. Eventually, she shakes her head, bringing her gaze back up to J'cor. "It varies, sir," she explains quietly. "That would be the best answer I could give you. Katric was a young fanatic, doing what he in his heart of hearts felt was the best thing to do, left with no choice in the matter. Donavon...I would have to be hard pressed to say that he cared at all, but was instead loyal. His wingriders -- most of them -- are loyal, however. Many of those who he interacts with are such. I would say that some are loyal to him, some believe in his cause, some of them are bought, and..." And there, she glances to Roa -- perhaps to indicate the goldrider's words. Her eyes come right back to J'cor. "Some are coerced."
J'cor's fingers, splayed along his crossed arm, tap a quick little tempo while he nods to Aida's words. "Then, the loyal ones might remain. The rest should disperse once they see the danger of staying with him outweighs the danger of going against, but those who are loyal." He stops himself there, thinking for a moment while he frowns at his shoes. "They can keep others silent," he reflects quietly. He raises his eyes, finding D'ven and then Roa. "K'rom and N'ka. Have arrangements been made for their safety?"
"They've both been instructed to keep to public places for now. Not to travel anywhere alone. I wanted to ask you if, of those guards that still remain, one might be assigned to N'ka and another to K'rom and the weyrling barracks in general." Roa tips her head a tiny bit to the side. "Morley for the barracks, please, sir. Tavaly knows him and he was on my detail. Tannum, perhaps, for N'ka. He's another man I'd fully trust." She quiets a moment before adding, "The loyal ones, I suspect, will be caught and tried in their own time. Morelenth provides a means to learn a great number of faces and names." For a moment it seems as if the little weyrwoman would say more. But no, her mouth closes and she is quiet.
"N'ka is a member of my Wing." D'ven points out after a moment. "I'll do my best to keep an eye on him, Sir." There's a pause. "I have...a lot of experience with fighting, both unarmed and with weapons. And not the kind of experience where the other guy is your friend, and you're going to go for a drink afterwards, sir."
Falling quiet for D'ven and Roa's words, Aida crosses her arms over her chest again, fingers loosely wrapping around the spot just above her elbows. She holds her silence until after D'ven has spoken, eying him for perhaps a moment too long before she shifts her attention back to J'cor. "Of his people, sir, my concern is with the woman that has been behind many of the attacks, including the one on T'zen that has led us here. She is one that is as much of a threat if not more so than E'sere himself in some senses, as his threat is less immediate, and she has actively been attacking people. We do not know what their connection is, only that they are most definitely connected, if nothing else through that tunic. I believe that he can name her. If he is caught, there is considerable concern that she might flee before we are able to apprehend her, and the need to do so is...well." Pause. "I would personally use the word desperate, but I will content myself with the description of 'considerable'."
J'cor begins to lean back on his desk again, his legs crossed at the shins as he does. Aida gets a small nod of agreement. "Such an accomplice could also create distractions, were she so bold," he murmurs. D'ven's offer gets only a short consideration from him before he shakes his head. "If it becomes necessary, given the few guards we have left, then I may yet require that of you; meantime, it would mean more to have him guarded officially." His eyes slide back to Roa at these last words, one eyebrow arching as he looks at her. "I trust your assessment of the guards' abilities, weyrwoman, since you are best acquainted with them. If those are your recommendations, I will take them."
Roa's attention has traveled to Aida again at her words and there's...something that changes in the weyrwoman's posture. A slight loosening, some tiny bit of tension sliding away. Then she turns back to J'cor. "They are, sir. In regards to this girl, if I may, the tunic T'zen now has is sliced in a very particular place. It suggests a wound there. I have...some thoughts...on how that knowledge might be used to locate her, should E'sere be unwilling or unable."
"As you wish, sir." D'ven murmurs in reply to J'cor's comments. Roa's latter words get a slight quirk of his lips. "I'm more than happy to volunteer to..." His mouth runs away with him for a moment, before he clamps it should. After a pause, he speaks again. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me."
Finally, Aida does step forward, moving to the space between Roa and D'ven, for all that it might put her shoulder to shoulder with both of them. She brings a hand up to try and set her fingers upon Roa's shoulder for the briefest of moments, and then her hand is lowering again, arm recrossed with the other. Eyes are sent sidelong at the other woman in response to her words, her explanation, and then she nods, swinging her gaze back to J'cor. D'ven's words? Or, well, almost words? There's a tiny break in her composure, in that her jaw tightens for a moment, but whatever it is goes away swiftly and is unremarked upon. Her voice is still smooth when she speaks. "I would suggest following Roa's lead before E'sere is apprehended; this girl is a very distinct and active threat." There is a bit of emphasis on that 'very', there, and she pauses between those words and the next. Long enough for more emphasis. "I would also put forth that if N'ka and K'rom are to be placed under guard that T'zen be placed under such as well, for which he would not thank me were he to find out I suggested it. Their protection will give it all away, and T'zen is already wounded."
J'cor's raised brow, originally aimed at Roa, is just heading down when D'ven speaks and cuts himself off. The Weyrleader offers both raised brows to him, and is a beat late in nodding to accept his apology. It's the only attention the other bronzerider gets, however, as J'cor soon moves back to Aida and Roa, now conveniently right next to each other. "Roa's lead, then," he says expectantly.
The weyrwoman takes a small step forward. "The tunic was small. Woman's sized, and of rough material. It had a slice, with blood around it, here." Her right hand lifts and her fingers draw a line across her left upper arm, over the bicep. "I suspect this girl works in the lower caverns, and I have spoken with a few of the other victims of her attacks. There is a name that has come up three times. She was present when one of the caucus students had a vicious prank played on her. She was present in the aftermath when Ganathon's room was upended. And, sir, she was present on the scene when the guard captain found the body of the Lady Sian. I think, perhaps, we had best speak to this girl. Her name is Aivey."
D'ven opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I think....I may know something of bearing on this one." He finally says after some composing himself. "I have been in contact with Aivey for quite some time now. She's been one of my sources of information on the goings on of the lower caverns. One of the things I had her looking into for me, was the recent death threats that have been going around. She recently returned the name Peria." There's a pause. "But that's not the most relevant thing I have to offer." Another pause, and he glances around for a moment while schooling his expression back to neutrality. "Information gathering was not, however, the only thing she has done for me. And I do recall she had a injury in the place you describe, weyrwoman. I asked her about it when she woke, and she said something about a rusty nail while working. It was plausible enough, and I didn't think anything of it at the time."
The name, when Roa speaks it, has Aida narrowing her eyes. She shifts on her feet, turns her full focus on the goldrider, and one eyebrow goes up. The second joins it, when D'ven speaks, and...well. She actually loses her composure entirely for a moment, in reaction to his words -- she stares, wide eyed at him. Blink. Blink. Blink. Soon enough she's realizing what she's done though, and clearing her throat, putting back on her game face. And then, her eyes turn back to J'cor, and she explains quietly, "The girl who brought me the information on the threats against my life. Who was so very afraid of me speaking her name in connection to the warning. Tiny thing -- not much bigger than Roa. Black hair. Light green eyes."
J'cor is still watching Roa, but the weyrwoman is close enough to Aida that the latter's visible surprise, such a contrast from her unshakable composure, is noted. There are no more raised brows, however, and his attention doesn't linger long. "Her first, then. I don't believe I've met any Aivey, but perhaps Heriet will have some record of her; if not, I assume, wingsecond, that you would be capable of finding her again. Since she is your contact," he clarifies, just a touch drily. His gaze passes over to Roa. "As I recall, an investigation was being conducted of this girl for her involvement with Lady Sian. Even with the recent changes," a word he picks delicately, "the new guard captain should have the information gathered from that."
"Light green eyes." These seem to be the words that stick in the little weyrwoman's mind. "Sir, I have never met this woman. I have only heard the name, but, my attacker had light eyes. Eyes that I know very well. That I could identify, should I see them again." Roa is not unaware that J'cor is watching her, but she only watches back and at the last, she gives a nod. "If I may presume, sir, Sinopa's request that I stay out of these investigations...may I presume that it no longer applies? If that's so, I'll see about getting that information when we are finished here."
"Indeed, sir." D'ven replies, his tone level and low. There's something behind his eyes, however. The look of someone who has been taken for a very long ride. "We tend to be good at finding one another." Aida's words are attended to next. "Oh, she was scared to be connected with that? Funny, I had her looking into it and she seemed only to happy to help. Kept telling me what a good kind man I was, looking out for the 'poor girl' like this." Oh yes, someone is very bitter indeed.
And the quiet had to descend again eventually; Aida falls silent now, letting the others speak. She's said her piece, apparently. Instead, the young woman lifts a hand up again, this time to try and rest her fingers on D'ven's shoulder. They don't retract immediately, staying there for as long as he'll allow. And she's back to watching each in turn as they speak, though now her shoulders have started to wind with tension. Not so relaxed, any more. Still, she's superficially calm.
J'cor's arms uncross at long last, dropping down to the desk where his fingers wrap back around the small outcropping of the sandstone table's surface. D'ven is left to recover from his bitter thoughts without being stared at, as J'cor frowns thoughtfully at the ground while he hears the other man out. "Take care when you find her again," he advises simply, before raising his focus to Roa. "Investigate as you would, weyrwoman, but bear certain things in mind. If it looks like a vendetta, if it looks like a power-grab, that will not go over well in High Reaches. And what a queen reports to her rider may be changed in retelling, so even the results of a draconic investigation may be called into question."
"Yessir. I think, until requested otherwise, I shall keep my investigations away from dragon thoughts. I do not..." Roa's lips press together and she pauses a moment before speaking again. "From what I know of Sinopa, a desire to take on the brunt of an investigation is...unlike her usual inclinations. I do not wonder but someone perhaps encouraged her to that conclusion. In which case, Tialith's voice may be of little use anyhow, just now."
"Oh, I shall be most careful, sir." D'ven replies in a low and steady tone. "I have no intentions of letting her slip away from my...loving embrace." There's a dark chuckle. "Sir, I'd like to request a small amount of our fellis stock be given to me. I can lure her to my weyr, and give her doped drink. And she will wake up safely confined. No mess, no fuss." Aida's hand is not removed, allowed to stay for as long as she'll leave it there, at least for now.
More silence from Aida; the tension fades back out of her shoulders, assisted by a small huff of air that doesn't quite manage to be a sigh, though it's close. Her fingers squeeze on D'ven's shoulder, lightly, and they stay there for now. This, this bit of things she has no input on.
J'cor's lip quirks down in wry agreement with Roa's assessment of Sinopa, but it's the only response he makes to her criticism of the Weyrwoman. "Then do what you deem fit." Now he returns his gaze to D'ven, sparing only a detached moment's notice for Aida's hand on his shoulder. "I've my own supply of fellis," he admits, tugging his chin up as he does, "of which I can allot you a small portion. That will be less interesting than if you suddenly requisitioned some." That admitted to, J'cor's body follows his chin's example in pulling upwards, his legs uncrossing as he pushes off the desk and assumes a straight-backed, formal posture.
"Bronzerider, you have my order to subdue this girl. Resort to fellis first, and after that whatever means necessary; you have, as well, permission to defend yourself if she becomes hostile."
Fellis. Roa's telltale eyebrows arch upwards. "Fellis," the word is voiced softly, but she says no more about it. "Sir, if I may, perhaps once Aivey is...subdued, Teraneth might notify Karth or Tialith, and E'sere might be brought in for questioning as well? I suspect allowing either time to learn of the other's capture would bode ill for someone."
"Thank you sir." D'ven murmurs to the comment about his personal supply, before becoming more formal as J'cor does. "I understand, Weyrleader. I shall do as you order." There's a pause as Roa speaks, before the bronzerider nods slowly. "I think that might be a good way of going about it."
Ah, it's so much easier when she can stay quiet, and so stay quiet is what Aida does. More silence from the peanut gallery. More attentiveness. She does at least move again, giving D'ven's shoulder a final squeeze before her hand is withdrawn, put to cross with the other again.
J'cor awaits D'ven's response, confirming it with a nod of his own before he'll offer agreement to Roa's suggestion. Offer it he does, though, eventually, with another nod and a quick, "Do so, then." He starts to settle back towards the desk, but catches himself before he gets too far and straightens again.
"Yessir," is Roa's quiet murmur. Her hands give another squeeze to her elbows. That. it seems, is all she has to say.
"Sir, yes, sir." D'ven salutes, apparently back in his weyrling days for a moment. He doesn't seem at all embarrassed or abashed by the way in which he chooses to reply, indeed it seems strangely appropriate for the man.
"Well, then," Aida speaks up again, squaring her shoulders and putting on a smile. It's a bit wan, but it is a smile. "Thank you, sir." Shoulders lean forward, her head dropping that way as well. It's a nice little almost-bow, and when she's straightened the smile has gone. Her mouth opens as if she was going to say something further, but it closes on the words before they escape; there's a brief wince, and then the calm settles back in. Yes. Calm. Her attention swings abruptly away from J'cor, eyes settling on Roa.
J'cor takes the salute as his due, returning it with matching precision. "Thank you," he answers all of them, as his hand drops back down, "and you are dismissed. Keep me updated," he adds, eyes flicking to D'ven.
"Good evening, sir. I'll get those guard reports to you as soon as I have them." And as is the little weyrwoman's wont, with a quick glance to D'ven and then Aida, Roa is making her way out of the office and down the hall.
Relaxing as he's dismissed, D'ven has one final question for the J'cor. "That fellis, sir? Do you want to give me it now, or should I come by in the morning, or some other arrangement entirely?"
Is that it? Roa's going. Aida turns her head to look after the goldrider, shifting on her feet as if she were going to follow -- and then D'ven speaks to J'cor again, and her weight adjusts once more, going back to how she was standing and remaining quietly at his side.
J'cor spares a quick glance after the departing weyrwoman, and then it's back to D'ven. Aida's presence seems to be accepted, but ignored. "Now, while you're here, would be the most convenient." And yet there's a half-second's pause before he connects his words to any action, breaking out of his stiff-backed stance and heading for the stairs to his private weyr.
D'ven smiles when he notices Aida adjusting her plans, before nodding to J'cor. "Of course, sir." He murmurs, waiting where he is as the Weyrleader vanishes into his quarters to retrieve the fellis in question.
Turning her head to watch after J'cor, once he's out of sight, Aida exhales a soft sigh, bringing a hand up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. There's muttering, under her breath and barely audible -- it sounds like that might have been a curse, really. Her hand drops away after only a moment, and when she lifts her chin again her expression has once more settled. There's a quick lean, a brush of her temple against D'ven's shoulder, and then her arms recross over her chest and she settles into waiting.
J'cor does not take long finding his fellis supply: shortly after the heavy sound of footsteps ascending stairs, comes the even heavier sound of footsteps descending stairs. Cupped in his hand is a tiny vial, the fellis dose barely even visible sloshing at the bottom. "This is my own dosage, though I suspect you'll need less than this for the girl." Pinching the top of the thing between forefinger and thumb, he offers it out to D'ven.
D'ven smiles reassuringly at Aida as she leans on him, before straightening up at the sound of footsteps. "Thank you sir, I shall remember that." He murmurs, taking the vial from J'cor and secreting it safely within his jacket.
Silence again from Aida; she offers another slight smile up towards J'cor, then glances sidelong up at D'ven. No immediate movement for the door, though she does shift on her feet and prepare to follow D'ven out if he does move that way.
J'cor simply nods, turning once the vial has been passed off to reclaim his pipe. As soon as he has it, he heads back to his room without another word.
Time: Evening on Day 14, Month 7, Turn 2
Players: Roa, D'ven, Aida, J'cor
Scene: The trio come to the Weyrleader and tell what they know.
Weyrleaders' Office
Much of the formal and informal business that concerns the weyrleaders is conducted here. As such, an effort has been made to keep this chamber comfortable out of respect for the long hours of work required to keep the Weyr running. The walls are bright with tapestries and the floors warm with thick rugs. A large sandtable holds pride of place in the center of the room, one half covered with a sheet of glass to serve as a writing surface. A second, smaller table holds whatever writing implements and record hides are needed by the staff. The chairs that ring this area are thickly cushioned but otherwise undecorated.
The stairs that led into the complex from the bowl continue up to the right, taking one into the Weyrleader's weyr. A large tunnel to the left curves down to the senior Weyrwoman's weyr, broken only by the smaller tunnel that leads to one of the junior's weyrs. The last tunnel, opposite the entrance, leads to the second junior's weyr.
There are people already waiting for the weyrleader, the newest Reachian weyrwoman among them. She stands, quiet and quite still, in the middle of the room, shoulders back, chin high. Her left arm is bent at the elbow forming an 'L', fingers curled around the upper arm of the right. They squeeze, release, squeeze again, but there is no other movement from the girl. Save that, when J'cor appears, her lips move. "Weyrleader. Thank you for coming."
D'ven, who appears to have gone to extra effort to make himself the model of neatness for this particular meeting, is also present. He's standing next to Aida, though he keeps pacing while waiting. When J'cor arrives the pacing stops, and he inclines his head toward the man. "Weyrleader."
Standing in Roa's general vicinity, Aida is alternating between watching the pacing D'ven and studying the room. In contrast to the other two, her own posture is relaxed and fairly casual, her arms loosely crossed across just above her stomach, her shoulders not stiff. When Roa greets the Weyrleader, she shifts on her feet and turns her head to look that way, lips curving up into a lopsided smile. "Weyrleader, sir," she echoes the greeting of the other two, though there's a hint of dry amusement that lingers somewhere in her tone.
Conveniently close to his office when he received the call, J'cor is quick to descend from his private weyr as ordered. A pipe dangles from the loose grip of his fingers, dying out while he holds it, and brings with it the smell of smoke to dispel both J'cor's odor and the sterile cleanliness of the now rare-used office. Seeing the three assembled for him within it, though, J'cor stops short in the entrance, his gaze flicking to each one in turn at their greetings. At last he offers a solemn nod, moving past them to lean back against his desk, and ignoring his usual high-backed chair on the other side. "Indeed," he says slowly, twisting the pipestem in his fingers. Another brief survey of the trio's composition, and he winds up back on Roa. An eyebrow raises.
"Sir," J'cor's eyes are on Roa and so it is Roa that takes a step forward and begins it. "We," a pause to look towards the pacing bronzerider, "Wingsecond D'ven," then her eyes travel to the calmly relaxed woman, "Aida," and back to J'cor, "and myself...have allegations to put forward. I believe we know who has been behind the attacks on those who openly supported yourself and the former Weyrwoman. Attacks on the Weyr at large."
D'ven, no longer pacing, steps up beside Roa. Quite why isn't clear, perhaps merely to lend her his support and so she isn't all alone. "We have evidence to back up our accusations, Sir." He murmurs, hands folding behind his back as he stands ramrod straight.
There's no stepping forward for Aida, no movement made to draw further attention to herself. She only shifts on her feet so that she's facing the same direction the other two are, bringing her arms up lightly to cross them over her chest. No words are offered, nothing added to what the other two have said. Quiet, she is.
J'cor, forewarned of something odd by their behavior, is not incredibly surprised at the explanation. His eyes do thin while he gathers his thoughts, the hand without the pipe jerking forwards a little bit; but he's gathered himself by the time D'ven has finished speaking, and his hand settles back down to the desk. If his forefinger briefly taps his thumb, forming a little ring there, it's the only hint of tension he allows, and it lasts only a second. "Then share it," he commands.
"E'sere." And there it is. The name that has been whispered by some, admired by others, muttered over, revered, cursed. Now spoken by Roa plainly, clearly, and for a single purpose. She stands straighter and, were it anyone else who wasn't quite so small, taller. "We can link him to the woman who attacked Issa and T'zen and, quite likely, myself and others. We can also link him to the men that kidnapped Aida and the one who attacked Ulyath's clutch. We can link him to Leyron's blackmail and very probably his murder."
D'ven doesn't have much to add, though he does make one small comment. "As part of the link to the woman behind the attacks, Sir, we can also show that he outright lied in an attempt to both protect the true culprit and pin the blame unfairly on an innocent."
More silence, from Aida. The smile has faded now to be replaced with an impassive expression, her eyes drifting to the back of Roa's head, then D'ven's, and then back to J'cor's face. No tension, still; she's all calm. And still, she apparently has nothing to add.
J'cor looks at Aida, though, when her name is mentioned. Her silent presence hasn't gone unnoticed, just unremarked; he meets her calm gaze with a level one to match. Then he pushes off the table, the still-cooling pipe cradled by the bowl in his right hand. "All those. He /has/ been busy." A quick glance down at his pipe, then up to D'ven, this time. "Link it for me."
Roa's hand finally, slowly, releases her other arm and she turns to look over and up at the bronzerider beside her. She seems, if not happy to turn over the speaking to him, then certainly willing.
"I'll start, sir, with the bit that relates to my earlier comment." D'ven begins, after a moment's silence to gather his words. "E'sere recently told T'zen the woman who attacked him had been dealt with, the implication being by himself. He handed over a tunic as proof of his claims, one that matched exactly with the piece that T'zen had managed to remove in his encounter with his assailant. E'sere said he got this tunic from a woman named Peria." There's a pause. "However, the men who held Aida captive boasted to her at length of messing with this poor woman. She is not the assailant, sir. And thus, the fact that E'sere was able to obtain the tunic but seeks to pin the blame elsewhere shows a clear connection, and that he has reason to fear the true assailant being captured." Another pause. "I would hand you back to Roa at this juncture sir, if you have no objection, for she has more detailed knowledge of the next bits of evidence than myself."
The meeting of her gaze by J'cor is not shied away from; Aida holds it, her expression unchanging. He's watched, then, until his eyes go to D'ven and he gives direction there, and then her gaze is swinging that way as well. No nod, no anything; when Roa is mentioned, her attention shifts again, this time to settle on the goldrider. Everything is observed. Surprise surprise -- quietly.
J'cor's pipe has at long last cooled enough that he can set it down safely, and the Weyrleader takes a moment to do just that as he twists back towards his desk. As he returns, his eyes slide smoothly over to Roa, and he offers her a small nod, indicating that she should pick up the thread. Through D'ven's recitation, his collected composure has suffered a few small cracks, allowing one more ring-finger and a thinning of the eyes when the pieces of D'ven's explanation come together, but he's repairing it while he listens to Roa.
A small nod as the little weyrwoman readies herself to speak once more. "I can also add, sir, that I have seen Peria, and I saw, when I was attacked, the eyes of my assailant if nothing else. Hers were pale. Peria's are brown. They are not the same woman." A small breath. "Leyron. Two months ago, Kierom spoke with me about E'sere, because he was convinced he had something to do with blackmailing Leyron. He wouldn't tell me how, but, recently...this morning...he has. K'rom said that he was approached by E'sere and asked to assist in blackmailing. He was also introduced to a good friend of E'sere's. A friend named Donavon. He has agreed to share his piece with you, sir, and at a trial, when it comes to that." Now Roa glances to Aida. "Perhaps, Aida, you might share why the name Donavon is so particularly important?"
D'ven listens as Roa speaks, his attention on the Weyrleader rather than the weyrwoman. When Aida is queued up, he glances over to the woman for a moment before his eyes return to J'cor.
Ah, she has to speak. Aida turns her head so she can look at Roa more squarely, then gives a slight dip of her head. She doesn't step forward, no, staying behind the other two -- but she looks past them to J'cor all the same. "Donavon was the one at the lead of my kidnapping," she explains, voice quiet but very certain. Absolutely sure, and entirely calm. Even when called upon, she is not losing that touch of relaxation. "He also, when he was apprehended, requested that Captain Jensen make a deal with him -- he would tell the Captain who it was behind the attacks, in return for being exiled. He named Peria. Katric named Peria as their target, Leyron, as their target. Donavon himself stated that they were under orders to take me and keep me, but that the person they were working for did not wish me dead. Katric confessed to me their little group's involvement in the majority of the troubles." She pauses, only long enough to lend her last words a bit more weight. "At the behest of another. I would also bring forth another name that does not wish to be brought into all of this, but I will name her all the same. I was originally approached by Miniyal, sir. She is the one that told me that it was E'sere that I needed be worried about, and it was at that prompting that I began poking into these things."
J'cor raises his eyebrows expectantly when she offers to name an unwilling name, and those eyebrows go even higher when Miniyal's is the one that comes out. A surprised pause barely has time to settle in before he cuts into it with, "I see. Did she mention where her suspicions came from, or not?" He checks in with Roa and D'ven while he speaks, watching their expressions as they watch his, and returns to Aida while he listens.
Actually, that one caught Roa a bit by surprise too. Yep, those eyebrows twitch upwards just a little as Miniyal's name is mentioned. With a small sigh she adds, "K'rom's partner, N'ka, also has information on E'sere. He is reluctant to step forward. Frightened, I think."
"And who can blame him." D'ven murmurs. His own face, finely tuned from turns of dragon poker, betrays nothing when the name Miniyal is mentioned. "It occurs to me, sir, that there may be others we do not know about, who are similarly frightened to step forward."
"She said she watches, sir," Aida replies quietly, once the other two have said their words, and giving a very light shake of her head as she does so. "She had no evidence, only suspicions; it was left to me to find evidence. She watches and she listens, and she pays attention. She said that it was clear to her, who is so familiar with this place and these people, that E'sere was not pleased, was not the perfect picture that he was playing at being, and that there was something wrong. I do not bring it up to note that she has further proof of these things; if she does, she will not be sharing it. I bring her suspicions up on the basis that she is indeed something that none of us are; someone who has lived here her whole life, and is familiar with the people involved. It is proof of another sort." A hand is lifted, finally, and waved up and off to the side in a vague gesture. If the surprise (or lack thereof) registers, she's not giving any indication -- for the moment, those blue eyes are locked upon J'cor.
J'cor tilts his chin down and a little sideways at the extra information added by Roa and D'ven, but he waits out Aida's response before he'll say anything about it. "A character witness. Indeed." His hands come together in front of him, arms locking over his chest, and he allows a thin frown onto his features. "Indeed," he says again, more quietly. Another beat and then he looks back up at them, a spark of energy showing in his eyes after so much composure, though the frown remains set. "And they will not come forward unless they feel safe. Naturally. Aida," and it's back to her, for once she starts talking she apparently can't escape, "you spoke with his people. Tell me, your opinion - why are they 'his people'? Loyalty, ambition -?" He trails the words off, allowing her to fill in.
Mimicking the Weyrleader, though not consciously, Roa's arms also come forward to cross over her chest, fingers curling around her elbows. She's watching Aida, now.
D'ven's hands remain where they are, folded behind his back, clasped together. His gaze remains on J'cor, expression neutral as can be.
"Mmm." That's Aida's initial response, the question given some measure of consideration, and it takes her eyes down and to the side as she mulls it over. Eventually, she shakes her head, bringing her gaze back up to J'cor. "It varies, sir," she explains quietly. "That would be the best answer I could give you. Katric was a young fanatic, doing what he in his heart of hearts felt was the best thing to do, left with no choice in the matter. Donavon...I would have to be hard pressed to say that he cared at all, but was instead loyal. His wingriders -- most of them -- are loyal, however. Many of those who he interacts with are such. I would say that some are loyal to him, some believe in his cause, some of them are bought, and..." And there, she glances to Roa -- perhaps to indicate the goldrider's words. Her eyes come right back to J'cor. "Some are coerced."
J'cor's fingers, splayed along his crossed arm, tap a quick little tempo while he nods to Aida's words. "Then, the loyal ones might remain. The rest should disperse once they see the danger of staying with him outweighs the danger of going against, but those who are loyal." He stops himself there, thinking for a moment while he frowns at his shoes. "They can keep others silent," he reflects quietly. He raises his eyes, finding D'ven and then Roa. "K'rom and N'ka. Have arrangements been made for their safety?"
"They've both been instructed to keep to public places for now. Not to travel anywhere alone. I wanted to ask you if, of those guards that still remain, one might be assigned to N'ka and another to K'rom and the weyrling barracks in general." Roa tips her head a tiny bit to the side. "Morley for the barracks, please, sir. Tavaly knows him and he was on my detail. Tannum, perhaps, for N'ka. He's another man I'd fully trust." She quiets a moment before adding, "The loyal ones, I suspect, will be caught and tried in their own time. Morelenth provides a means to learn a great number of faces and names." For a moment it seems as if the little weyrwoman would say more. But no, her mouth closes and she is quiet.
"N'ka is a member of my Wing." D'ven points out after a moment. "I'll do my best to keep an eye on him, Sir." There's a pause. "I have...a lot of experience with fighting, both unarmed and with weapons. And not the kind of experience where the other guy is your friend, and you're going to go for a drink afterwards, sir."
Falling quiet for D'ven and Roa's words, Aida crosses her arms over her chest again, fingers loosely wrapping around the spot just above her elbows. She holds her silence until after D'ven has spoken, eying him for perhaps a moment too long before she shifts her attention back to J'cor. "Of his people, sir, my concern is with the woman that has been behind many of the attacks, including the one on T'zen that has led us here. She is one that is as much of a threat if not more so than E'sere himself in some senses, as his threat is less immediate, and she has actively been attacking people. We do not know what their connection is, only that they are most definitely connected, if nothing else through that tunic. I believe that he can name her. If he is caught, there is considerable concern that she might flee before we are able to apprehend her, and the need to do so is...well." Pause. "I would personally use the word desperate, but I will content myself with the description of 'considerable'."
J'cor begins to lean back on his desk again, his legs crossed at the shins as he does. Aida gets a small nod of agreement. "Such an accomplice could also create distractions, were she so bold," he murmurs. D'ven's offer gets only a short consideration from him before he shakes his head. "If it becomes necessary, given the few guards we have left, then I may yet require that of you; meantime, it would mean more to have him guarded officially." His eyes slide back to Roa at these last words, one eyebrow arching as he looks at her. "I trust your assessment of the guards' abilities, weyrwoman, since you are best acquainted with them. If those are your recommendations, I will take them."
Roa's attention has traveled to Aida again at her words and there's...something that changes in the weyrwoman's posture. A slight loosening, some tiny bit of tension sliding away. Then she turns back to J'cor. "They are, sir. In regards to this girl, if I may, the tunic T'zen now has is sliced in a very particular place. It suggests a wound there. I have...some thoughts...on how that knowledge might be used to locate her, should E'sere be unwilling or unable."
"As you wish, sir." D'ven murmurs in reply to J'cor's comments. Roa's latter words get a slight quirk of his lips. "I'm more than happy to volunteer to..." His mouth runs away with him for a moment, before he clamps it should. After a pause, he speaks again. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me."
Finally, Aida does step forward, moving to the space between Roa and D'ven, for all that it might put her shoulder to shoulder with both of them. She brings a hand up to try and set her fingers upon Roa's shoulder for the briefest of moments, and then her hand is lowering again, arm recrossed with the other. Eyes are sent sidelong at the other woman in response to her words, her explanation, and then she nods, swinging her gaze back to J'cor. D'ven's words? Or, well, almost words? There's a tiny break in her composure, in that her jaw tightens for a moment, but whatever it is goes away swiftly and is unremarked upon. Her voice is still smooth when she speaks. "I would suggest following Roa's lead before E'sere is apprehended; this girl is a very distinct and active threat." There is a bit of emphasis on that 'very', there, and she pauses between those words and the next. Long enough for more emphasis. "I would also put forth that if N'ka and K'rom are to be placed under guard that T'zen be placed under such as well, for which he would not thank me were he to find out I suggested it. Their protection will give it all away, and T'zen is already wounded."
J'cor's raised brow, originally aimed at Roa, is just heading down when D'ven speaks and cuts himself off. The Weyrleader offers both raised brows to him, and is a beat late in nodding to accept his apology. It's the only attention the other bronzerider gets, however, as J'cor soon moves back to Aida and Roa, now conveniently right next to each other. "Roa's lead, then," he says expectantly.
The weyrwoman takes a small step forward. "The tunic was small. Woman's sized, and of rough material. It had a slice, with blood around it, here." Her right hand lifts and her fingers draw a line across her left upper arm, over the bicep. "I suspect this girl works in the lower caverns, and I have spoken with a few of the other victims of her attacks. There is a name that has come up three times. She was present when one of the caucus students had a vicious prank played on her. She was present in the aftermath when Ganathon's room was upended. And, sir, she was present on the scene when the guard captain found the body of the Lady Sian. I think, perhaps, we had best speak to this girl. Her name is Aivey."
D'ven opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I think....I may know something of bearing on this one." He finally says after some composing himself. "I have been in contact with Aivey for quite some time now. She's been one of my sources of information on the goings on of the lower caverns. One of the things I had her looking into for me, was the recent death threats that have been going around. She recently returned the name Peria." There's a pause. "But that's not the most relevant thing I have to offer." Another pause, and he glances around for a moment while schooling his expression back to neutrality. "Information gathering was not, however, the only thing she has done for me. And I do recall she had a injury in the place you describe, weyrwoman. I asked her about it when she woke, and she said something about a rusty nail while working. It was plausible enough, and I didn't think anything of it at the time."
The name, when Roa speaks it, has Aida narrowing her eyes. She shifts on her feet, turns her full focus on the goldrider, and one eyebrow goes up. The second joins it, when D'ven speaks, and...well. She actually loses her composure entirely for a moment, in reaction to his words -- she stares, wide eyed at him. Blink. Blink. Blink. Soon enough she's realizing what she's done though, and clearing her throat, putting back on her game face. And then, her eyes turn back to J'cor, and she explains quietly, "The girl who brought me the information on the threats against my life. Who was so very afraid of me speaking her name in connection to the warning. Tiny thing -- not much bigger than Roa. Black hair. Light green eyes."
J'cor is still watching Roa, but the weyrwoman is close enough to Aida that the latter's visible surprise, such a contrast from her unshakable composure, is noted. There are no more raised brows, however, and his attention doesn't linger long. "Her first, then. I don't believe I've met any Aivey, but perhaps Heriet will have some record of her; if not, I assume, wingsecond, that you would be capable of finding her again. Since she is your contact," he clarifies, just a touch drily. His gaze passes over to Roa. "As I recall, an investigation was being conducted of this girl for her involvement with Lady Sian. Even with the recent changes," a word he picks delicately, "the new guard captain should have the information gathered from that."
"Light green eyes." These seem to be the words that stick in the little weyrwoman's mind. "Sir, I have never met this woman. I have only heard the name, but, my attacker had light eyes. Eyes that I know very well. That I could identify, should I see them again." Roa is not unaware that J'cor is watching her, but she only watches back and at the last, she gives a nod. "If I may presume, sir, Sinopa's request that I stay out of these investigations...may I presume that it no longer applies? If that's so, I'll see about getting that information when we are finished here."
"Indeed, sir." D'ven replies, his tone level and low. There's something behind his eyes, however. The look of someone who has been taken for a very long ride. "We tend to be good at finding one another." Aida's words are attended to next. "Oh, she was scared to be connected with that? Funny, I had her looking into it and she seemed only to happy to help. Kept telling me what a good kind man I was, looking out for the 'poor girl' like this." Oh yes, someone is very bitter indeed.
And the quiet had to descend again eventually; Aida falls silent now, letting the others speak. She's said her piece, apparently. Instead, the young woman lifts a hand up again, this time to try and rest her fingers on D'ven's shoulder. They don't retract immediately, staying there for as long as he'll allow. And she's back to watching each in turn as they speak, though now her shoulders have started to wind with tension. Not so relaxed, any more. Still, she's superficially calm.
J'cor's arms uncross at long last, dropping down to the desk where his fingers wrap back around the small outcropping of the sandstone table's surface. D'ven is left to recover from his bitter thoughts without being stared at, as J'cor frowns thoughtfully at the ground while he hears the other man out. "Take care when you find her again," he advises simply, before raising his focus to Roa. "Investigate as you would, weyrwoman, but bear certain things in mind. If it looks like a vendetta, if it looks like a power-grab, that will not go over well in High Reaches. And what a queen reports to her rider may be changed in retelling, so even the results of a draconic investigation may be called into question."
"Yessir. I think, until requested otherwise, I shall keep my investigations away from dragon thoughts. I do not..." Roa's lips press together and she pauses a moment before speaking again. "From what I know of Sinopa, a desire to take on the brunt of an investigation is...unlike her usual inclinations. I do not wonder but someone perhaps encouraged her to that conclusion. In which case, Tialith's voice may be of little use anyhow, just now."
"Oh, I shall be most careful, sir." D'ven replies in a low and steady tone. "I have no intentions of letting her slip away from my...loving embrace." There's a dark chuckle. "Sir, I'd like to request a small amount of our fellis stock be given to me. I can lure her to my weyr, and give her doped drink. And she will wake up safely confined. No mess, no fuss." Aida's hand is not removed, allowed to stay for as long as she'll leave it there, at least for now.
More silence from Aida; the tension fades back out of her shoulders, assisted by a small huff of air that doesn't quite manage to be a sigh, though it's close. Her fingers squeeze on D'ven's shoulder, lightly, and they stay there for now. This, this bit of things she has no input on.
J'cor's lip quirks down in wry agreement with Roa's assessment of Sinopa, but it's the only response he makes to her criticism of the Weyrwoman. "Then do what you deem fit." Now he returns his gaze to D'ven, sparing only a detached moment's notice for Aida's hand on his shoulder. "I've my own supply of fellis," he admits, tugging his chin up as he does, "of which I can allot you a small portion. That will be less interesting than if you suddenly requisitioned some." That admitted to, J'cor's body follows his chin's example in pulling upwards, his legs uncrossing as he pushes off the desk and assumes a straight-backed, formal posture.
"Bronzerider, you have my order to subdue this girl. Resort to fellis first, and after that whatever means necessary; you have, as well, permission to defend yourself if she becomes hostile."
Fellis. Roa's telltale eyebrows arch upwards. "Fellis," the word is voiced softly, but she says no more about it. "Sir, if I may, perhaps once Aivey is...subdued, Teraneth might notify Karth or Tialith, and E'sere might be brought in for questioning as well? I suspect allowing either time to learn of the other's capture would bode ill for someone."
"Thank you sir." D'ven murmurs to the comment about his personal supply, before becoming more formal as J'cor does. "I understand, Weyrleader. I shall do as you order." There's a pause as Roa speaks, before the bronzerider nods slowly. "I think that might be a good way of going about it."
Ah, it's so much easier when she can stay quiet, and so stay quiet is what Aida does. More silence from the peanut gallery. More attentiveness. She does at least move again, giving D'ven's shoulder a final squeeze before her hand is withdrawn, put to cross with the other again.
J'cor awaits D'ven's response, confirming it with a nod of his own before he'll offer agreement to Roa's suggestion. Offer it he does, though, eventually, with another nod and a quick, "Do so, then." He starts to settle back towards the desk, but catches himself before he gets too far and straightens again.
"Yessir," is Roa's quiet murmur. Her hands give another squeeze to her elbows. That. it seems, is all she has to say.
"Sir, yes, sir." D'ven salutes, apparently back in his weyrling days for a moment. He doesn't seem at all embarrassed or abashed by the way in which he chooses to reply, indeed it seems strangely appropriate for the man.
"Well, then," Aida speaks up again, squaring her shoulders and putting on a smile. It's a bit wan, but it is a smile. "Thank you, sir." Shoulders lean forward, her head dropping that way as well. It's a nice little almost-bow, and when she's straightened the smile has gone. Her mouth opens as if she was going to say something further, but it closes on the words before they escape; there's a brief wince, and then the calm settles back in. Yes. Calm. Her attention swings abruptly away from J'cor, eyes settling on Roa.
J'cor takes the salute as his due, returning it with matching precision. "Thank you," he answers all of them, as his hand drops back down, "and you are dismissed. Keep me updated," he adds, eyes flicking to D'ven.
"Good evening, sir. I'll get those guard reports to you as soon as I have them." And as is the little weyrwoman's wont, with a quick glance to D'ven and then Aida, Roa is making her way out of the office and down the hall.
Relaxing as he's dismissed, D'ven has one final question for the J'cor. "That fellis, sir? Do you want to give me it now, or should I come by in the morning, or some other arrangement entirely?"
Is that it? Roa's going. Aida turns her head to look after the goldrider, shifting on her feet as if she were going to follow -- and then D'ven speaks to J'cor again, and her weight adjusts once more, going back to how she was standing and remaining quietly at his side.
J'cor spares a quick glance after the departing weyrwoman, and then it's back to D'ven. Aida's presence seems to be accepted, but ignored. "Now, while you're here, would be the most convenient." And yet there's a half-second's pause before he connects his words to any action, breaking out of his stiff-backed stance and heading for the stairs to his private weyr.
D'ven smiles when he notices Aida adjusting her plans, before nodding to J'cor. "Of course, sir." He murmurs, waiting where he is as the Weyrleader vanishes into his quarters to retrieve the fellis in question.
Turning her head to watch after J'cor, once he's out of sight, Aida exhales a soft sigh, bringing a hand up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. There's muttering, under her breath and barely audible -- it sounds like that might have been a curse, really. Her hand drops away after only a moment, and when she lifts her chin again her expression has once more settled. There's a quick lean, a brush of her temple against D'ven's shoulder, and then her arms recross over her chest and she settles into waiting.
J'cor does not take long finding his fellis supply: shortly after the heavy sound of footsteps ascending stairs, comes the even heavier sound of footsteps descending stairs. Cupped in his hand is a tiny vial, the fellis dose barely even visible sloshing at the bottom. "This is my own dosage, though I suspect you'll need less than this for the girl." Pinching the top of the thing between forefinger and thumb, he offers it out to D'ven.
D'ven smiles reassuringly at Aida as she leans on him, before straightening up at the sound of footsteps. "Thank you sir, I shall remember that." He murmurs, taking the vial from J'cor and secreting it safely within his jacket.
Silence again from Aida; she offers another slight smile up towards J'cor, then glances sidelong up at D'ven. No immediate movement for the door, though she does shift on her feet and prepare to follow D'ven out if he does move that way.
J'cor simply nods, turning once the vial has been passed off to reclaim his pipe. As soon as he has it, he heads back to his room without another word.