What It's Worth
Location: Old Storeroom
Time: Afternoon on Day 28, Month 8, Turn 2
Players: Aivey and Roa
Scene: Roa has a proposition for Aivey, instead of the other way around.
Old Empty Storeroom
Small and rather dusty, this room is just what the name implies. It used to be another storage space for the various odds and ends used by folk regularly enough to warrant its own room. Only problem was it was too far away from most of the residential areas, so it was cleaned out and had a few modifications made to it. For instance, there are no shelves, the rugs and any tapestries have all been removed, and the door locks from the outside. A thick metal ring has been embedded in the wall off in one corner so only half of it juts out, a perfect loop for sturdy rope or a chain. There's one glowbasket up on a wall, but it's empty.
Aivey is settled against the wall, her entertainment her thoughts. The cards and pebbles are either out of sight or long since taken away. One leg is bent at the knee, her arm resting upon it. The other is looped across her middle and her head is tilted back against the wall. She's awake - the tap-tap of her fingers against her knee suggests such.
The door opens and a pair of guards slip in. Since the attack on Sinopa, there is simply no chance of shooing them away again. After the room is perused, a sharp nod and Roa slips inside with a healer. The healers have ben coming by daily to check her wound. "Afternoon, Aivey," is Roa's quiet greeting.
"Is it?" Aivey wonders seriously, "It's getting hard to tell. It'd be nice to get out and get some fresh air but..." Trailing off, she straightens, dropping the bent leg to the ground and opening her eyes to watch both Roa and the healer with equal curiosity. Those guards are still ignored. "How're things coming along, Roa?"
"The harpers have arrived and witnesses are being interviewed. So, it shouldn't be more than another seven or so before the trial is ready to begin. You'll be interviewed as well. Have you met the harper that will be speaking in your defense, yet?" Roa maintains a distance of about six feet and the healer, a tall but portly man, eyes Aivey curiously before Roa continues. "If you'll let Goben here take a look at the gash on your side, he can leave and we can talk of more interesting matters."
"Thalan," Aivey confirms with an amused smile, "I almost felt sorry for him." Her attention cuts toward Goben, eyeing him with equal curiosity before eventually allowing the healer closer by shifting her arms to the opposite side of her hip and lifting her elbow enough for the wound to be looked at. "You'll be counting down the days, I'm sure, until all this is finally over and done with."
Goben creeps forward, shifting his little bag from hand to hand. He crouches down by Aivey and gently pushes up her shirt to study the wound carefully for a few minutes. It is wiped down with redwort, smeared with salve and rebandaged before the healer stands and moves quickly away. "It's healing well, weyrwoman." He is dismissed with a nod and it's only after he's gone that Roa moves closer and sits. The position is more the usual one assumed when she visits. "I would like it over and done with. I would like my home to be safe again."
Aivey is silent throughout the healer's tending, looking away and to the side even as he addresses Roa. It's not until the man leaves that she resumes her earlier pose, arm resting against the top of her knee, the other looped over her middle. "Your home," Aivey says after a delicate pause, "Is that what this is now? I bet there are people who can still argue you don't belong here." Not an accusation, rather an observation.
"Of course there are," Roa concedes with a nod. "That doesn't change how -I- feel about it, however. It is my home now. I live here." Shoulders lift and fall. "I'd like to offer you a deal, Aivey."
"Let's just hope the people who think you don't belong here aren't like me," Aivey says with a soft smile. It grows slightly at Roa's proposition, to which Aivey says only, "Oh?"
A tiny laugh and even the fleeting hint of a smile. "I hope that, indeed. I suppose we'll see." And then Roa is drawing up her knees and draping her arms loosely around her legs. "Oh," she agrees. "Here's what I would like. When you are questioned, I want you to be honest. Completely. No embellishing your crimes and no altering facts or hiding them to protect others. I want the truth, the full truth. From your lips. That would be your end of the bargain."
"I've been telling the truth all along," Aivey says quietly, "It's just that people aren't listening to me when I do. All that fun stuff aside, you're thinking of something more specific... so tell me what's in it for me if I agree."
"You've been telling the truth, but you've been telling parts of it. I want it all." Roa sits a bit straighter, "If you do, then after the trial, and before your sentence, I'll tell you everything I know about your father." A pause. A single, sharp swallow. "And I'll tell you how it is I know it."
"So I can take it with me to my death?" Aivey shakes her head and drops her attention to the floor, "The one thing I know about him is that he'd be less than pleased if I gave anyone up. Loyalty is everything." She is, however, attentive to the reaction of the goldrider at the end and it holds her curiosity, "Does he scare you that bad or is it how you know of him that scares you?"
"I'm sorry, but I won't answer that. He's off limits as a topic of discussion from my end, if you won't do this." Roa lowers her chin to her knees. "And what was he so loyal to, that you're certain of this about him?"
"I think I'll play fair this time, Roa, and say the same. My father is alive, one day he will return to this place and then you may ask that of him yourself." Aivey backtracks quickly enough, "When the trial comes and its my turn to speak, you have my word that I will speak the truth of the crimes I committed."
"Yes, I know you will. I knew you would do that before I came in here. As you say, I was looking for something more specific." Roa's fingers brush lightly at her skirt, blue eyes settled squarely on the other girl.
"Someone more specific." Aivey questions, "You want me to tell the truth on whether or not E'sere was behind what I did... how much of what I did, am I correct?" She pauses quickly, her eyes narrowing with light suspicion, "Or if there was anyone else besides him?"
"Yes," says Roa simply, "that's what I want. Just the truth. About everything you're asked. No secrets, no games, no surprises."
"That is a cruel game to play." Aivey says simply, looking away and to the ground. She doesn't move or say anything for a good few seconds, "I love my father very much." Her attention is back on Roa with the close of her words, "A compromise, goldrider. Here and now. I'll give you three questions that can be asked at the trial and you will have the full truth on them. With everything else you know, that should be plenty. I ask one thing in return."
The little goldrider considers. She doesn't offer an agreement, but rather, queries in return, "What is the one thing you ask?"
"They'll sentence me to die. I'm no fool... I saw the look on Thalan's face when he left. After you tell me about my father and tell me how you know about him, I ask only that you get something to him from me. I want... I want him to know something before I die." Aivey's features remain composed despite the tight voice she delivers her request with.
Roa leans back a little, a crease dipping her brow. "I...Aivey, I don't think I can -get- something to him. He's..." she exhales softly and closes her eyes. "What do you want him to know?"
"He's exiled. Exiled but alive so if you know of him you know how to get something to him." Aivey says quite firmly, "I want a letter written to him, goldrider. I want it to tell him I did my best and I have no regrets. That I love him and hope it was enough... my name... I want my name on it too, and that's it."
"You know of him, don't you Aivey? And yet you cannot do this thing," Roa speaks soft and calm, though her fingers are curled into her skirt tight enough that her knuckles have whitened. Her voice has dipped very quiet. Low enough that the posted guards likely cannot hear. "You want him to know the specifics?" Back and forth she goes.
"I do not have a gold dragon attached to my head." Aivey says point blank, "And I am not aiming to become Weyrwoman. I can't say Sinopa will get it nor do I think Lexine is any competition." A shot in the dark, perhaps, but Aivey uses it all the same. "I want him to know what I said... that I did my best, and I have no regrets. I love him and hope it was enough, and I want my name on the letter. That's it."
The goldrider studies Aivey in silence. "Write your letter," she says softly, "and when he comes to the mainland, as you're so sure he will, I'll make sure he gets it."
"That won't work for two reasons. I can't read or write and if he comes to the mainland, then the letter doesn't matter." Aivey hesitates for only a second, "If you do that for me, I'll do what you ask."
"All of it?" Roa's brows tip upwards as her head comes down. "If I try to see this done, you'll tell all of the truth. All of it. About everything." They are questions and statements all at once.
"All of it." Aivey agrees with a soft nod of her head. "In exchange for the letter and for you to tell me about my father, how you know of him before they sentence me."
It is a long quiet. Minutes. Roa's gaze just sits on the other woman, similar to her in build and coloration. Blue eyes blink languidly. Then, after perhaps five minutes, a single word. "Agreed."
"Fine. Agreed." Aivey replies after that long span of silence. "Is there anything else goldrider, or is that enough entertainment for the day?"
"And how interesting that -you- should ask -me- that." Roa shifts slightly, perhaps preparing to stand. "After the trial, I'll speak with you again, and I'll have your letter sent. I'll show it to you when we meet, if you like."
Aivey's smile is for show and show alone, "You're free to do what you want, goldrider. Make sure you chose well." Aivey shifts herself, trying to find a more comfortable position, "And for whatever its worth... thank you."
The weyrwoman does rise now, fingers quickly smoothing down her skirt. Aivey is only given a single nod before Roa turns away and walks calmly to the door.
Time: Afternoon on Day 28, Month 8, Turn 2
Players: Aivey and Roa
Scene: Roa has a proposition for Aivey, instead of the other way around.
Old Empty Storeroom
Small and rather dusty, this room is just what the name implies. It used to be another storage space for the various odds and ends used by folk regularly enough to warrant its own room. Only problem was it was too far away from most of the residential areas, so it was cleaned out and had a few modifications made to it. For instance, there are no shelves, the rugs and any tapestries have all been removed, and the door locks from the outside. A thick metal ring has been embedded in the wall off in one corner so only half of it juts out, a perfect loop for sturdy rope or a chain. There's one glowbasket up on a wall, but it's empty.
Aivey is settled against the wall, her entertainment her thoughts. The cards and pebbles are either out of sight or long since taken away. One leg is bent at the knee, her arm resting upon it. The other is looped across her middle and her head is tilted back against the wall. She's awake - the tap-tap of her fingers against her knee suggests such.
The door opens and a pair of guards slip in. Since the attack on Sinopa, there is simply no chance of shooing them away again. After the room is perused, a sharp nod and Roa slips inside with a healer. The healers have ben coming by daily to check her wound. "Afternoon, Aivey," is Roa's quiet greeting.
"Is it?" Aivey wonders seriously, "It's getting hard to tell. It'd be nice to get out and get some fresh air but..." Trailing off, she straightens, dropping the bent leg to the ground and opening her eyes to watch both Roa and the healer with equal curiosity. Those guards are still ignored. "How're things coming along, Roa?"
"The harpers have arrived and witnesses are being interviewed. So, it shouldn't be more than another seven or so before the trial is ready to begin. You'll be interviewed as well. Have you met the harper that will be speaking in your defense, yet?" Roa maintains a distance of about six feet and the healer, a tall but portly man, eyes Aivey curiously before Roa continues. "If you'll let Goben here take a look at the gash on your side, he can leave and we can talk of more interesting matters."
"Thalan," Aivey confirms with an amused smile, "I almost felt sorry for him." Her attention cuts toward Goben, eyeing him with equal curiosity before eventually allowing the healer closer by shifting her arms to the opposite side of her hip and lifting her elbow enough for the wound to be looked at. "You'll be counting down the days, I'm sure, until all this is finally over and done with."
Goben creeps forward, shifting his little bag from hand to hand. He crouches down by Aivey and gently pushes up her shirt to study the wound carefully for a few minutes. It is wiped down with redwort, smeared with salve and rebandaged before the healer stands and moves quickly away. "It's healing well, weyrwoman." He is dismissed with a nod and it's only after he's gone that Roa moves closer and sits. The position is more the usual one assumed when she visits. "I would like it over and done with. I would like my home to be safe again."
Aivey is silent throughout the healer's tending, looking away and to the side even as he addresses Roa. It's not until the man leaves that she resumes her earlier pose, arm resting against the top of her knee, the other looped over her middle. "Your home," Aivey says after a delicate pause, "Is that what this is now? I bet there are people who can still argue you don't belong here." Not an accusation, rather an observation.
"Of course there are," Roa concedes with a nod. "That doesn't change how -I- feel about it, however. It is my home now. I live here." Shoulders lift and fall. "I'd like to offer you a deal, Aivey."
"Let's just hope the people who think you don't belong here aren't like me," Aivey says with a soft smile. It grows slightly at Roa's proposition, to which Aivey says only, "Oh?"
A tiny laugh and even the fleeting hint of a smile. "I hope that, indeed. I suppose we'll see." And then Roa is drawing up her knees and draping her arms loosely around her legs. "Oh," she agrees. "Here's what I would like. When you are questioned, I want you to be honest. Completely. No embellishing your crimes and no altering facts or hiding them to protect others. I want the truth, the full truth. From your lips. That would be your end of the bargain."
"I've been telling the truth all along," Aivey says quietly, "It's just that people aren't listening to me when I do. All that fun stuff aside, you're thinking of something more specific... so tell me what's in it for me if I agree."
"You've been telling the truth, but you've been telling parts of it. I want it all." Roa sits a bit straighter, "If you do, then after the trial, and before your sentence, I'll tell you everything I know about your father." A pause. A single, sharp swallow. "And I'll tell you how it is I know it."
"So I can take it with me to my death?" Aivey shakes her head and drops her attention to the floor, "The one thing I know about him is that he'd be less than pleased if I gave anyone up. Loyalty is everything." She is, however, attentive to the reaction of the goldrider at the end and it holds her curiosity, "Does he scare you that bad or is it how you know of him that scares you?"
"I'm sorry, but I won't answer that. He's off limits as a topic of discussion from my end, if you won't do this." Roa lowers her chin to her knees. "And what was he so loyal to, that you're certain of this about him?"
"I think I'll play fair this time, Roa, and say the same. My father is alive, one day he will return to this place and then you may ask that of him yourself." Aivey backtracks quickly enough, "When the trial comes and its my turn to speak, you have my word that I will speak the truth of the crimes I committed."
"Yes, I know you will. I knew you would do that before I came in here. As you say, I was looking for something more specific." Roa's fingers brush lightly at her skirt, blue eyes settled squarely on the other girl.
"Someone more specific." Aivey questions, "You want me to tell the truth on whether or not E'sere was behind what I did... how much of what I did, am I correct?" She pauses quickly, her eyes narrowing with light suspicion, "Or if there was anyone else besides him?"
"Yes," says Roa simply, "that's what I want. Just the truth. About everything you're asked. No secrets, no games, no surprises."
"That is a cruel game to play." Aivey says simply, looking away and to the ground. She doesn't move or say anything for a good few seconds, "I love my father very much." Her attention is back on Roa with the close of her words, "A compromise, goldrider. Here and now. I'll give you three questions that can be asked at the trial and you will have the full truth on them. With everything else you know, that should be plenty. I ask one thing in return."
The little goldrider considers. She doesn't offer an agreement, but rather, queries in return, "What is the one thing you ask?"
"They'll sentence me to die. I'm no fool... I saw the look on Thalan's face when he left. After you tell me about my father and tell me how you know about him, I ask only that you get something to him from me. I want... I want him to know something before I die." Aivey's features remain composed despite the tight voice she delivers her request with.
Roa leans back a little, a crease dipping her brow. "I...Aivey, I don't think I can -get- something to him. He's..." she exhales softly and closes her eyes. "What do you want him to know?"
"He's exiled. Exiled but alive so if you know of him you know how to get something to him." Aivey says quite firmly, "I want a letter written to him, goldrider. I want it to tell him I did my best and I have no regrets. That I love him and hope it was enough... my name... I want my name on it too, and that's it."
"You know of him, don't you Aivey? And yet you cannot do this thing," Roa speaks soft and calm, though her fingers are curled into her skirt tight enough that her knuckles have whitened. Her voice has dipped very quiet. Low enough that the posted guards likely cannot hear. "You want him to know the specifics?" Back and forth she goes.
"I do not have a gold dragon attached to my head." Aivey says point blank, "And I am not aiming to become Weyrwoman. I can't say Sinopa will get it nor do I think Lexine is any competition." A shot in the dark, perhaps, but Aivey uses it all the same. "I want him to know what I said... that I did my best, and I have no regrets. I love him and hope it was enough, and I want my name on the letter. That's it."
The goldrider studies Aivey in silence. "Write your letter," she says softly, "and when he comes to the mainland, as you're so sure he will, I'll make sure he gets it."
"That won't work for two reasons. I can't read or write and if he comes to the mainland, then the letter doesn't matter." Aivey hesitates for only a second, "If you do that for me, I'll do what you ask."
"All of it?" Roa's brows tip upwards as her head comes down. "If I try to see this done, you'll tell all of the truth. All of it. About everything." They are questions and statements all at once.
"All of it." Aivey agrees with a soft nod of her head. "In exchange for the letter and for you to tell me about my father, how you know of him before they sentence me."
It is a long quiet. Minutes. Roa's gaze just sits on the other woman, similar to her in build and coloration. Blue eyes blink languidly. Then, after perhaps five minutes, a single word. "Agreed."
"Fine. Agreed." Aivey replies after that long span of silence. "Is there anything else goldrider, or is that enough entertainment for the day?"
"And how interesting that -you- should ask -me- that." Roa shifts slightly, perhaps preparing to stand. "After the trial, I'll speak with you again, and I'll have your letter sent. I'll show it to you when we meet, if you like."
Aivey's smile is for show and show alone, "You're free to do what you want, goldrider. Make sure you chose well." Aivey shifts herself, trying to find a more comfortable position, "And for whatever its worth... thank you."
The weyrwoman does rise now, fingers quickly smoothing down her skirt. Aivey is only given a single nod before Roa turns away and walks calmly to the door.