Fort Weyr - Central Infirmary
This room looks fairly similar to most other infirmaries, with it's faint scent of antiseptic and an eerie quiet that goes along with convalescence. Rows of cots line both walls, each separated by a privacy screen. Breaking the line of cots along the outside wall is a entrance to the dragonhealing section of the infirmary. The far end of the oval room is filled with metal cabinets that hold the tools of the Weyrhealers trade, as well as a desk from which the healer can supervise his domain. Upon one wall rests a thick 'chart' containing the information on all patients within the infirmary.


It's that time in the infirmary when the rush of mothers with tots bearing boo boos, sniffles and tummy aches have been seen to, those needing medical leave for a day from their wing assignments and crafts (aka hangover) has tapered off, leaving the place at peace to recoup after the whirlwind of morning activity. In the lull the healers are restocking supplies, making up cots with fresh linens, catching up on their charts. This is when D'ani, having purposely timed his visit, arrives, passing a trio of gossiping healers just getting off duty. They point, happy to speed up his arrival, to the supervisor. He should see her; they've been wondering where he was and almost sent out a search party, giggle. D'ani just smiles patiently and goes on in, lamb to slaughter, sigh.

Rare is the occasion that the Weyrleader will venture to the Infirmary, despite the jokes implied that he is always injuring himself. True, some of his actions have led him here but there are other reasons for the bronzerider to be making a trip down. Duty, of course and perhaps an overdue (secondary) visit. Th'ero's timing however leaves much to be desired and with the morning rush done, he figures now is a better time than ever to seek and update or two on those still on the injured list. Stepping inside, the bronzerider looks healthy, thought tired despite the hour but nonetheless he is quite alive, despite some of the continuing gossip about his ongoing vanishing act. He is not alone either as he pauses by the entrance to the infirmary to glance over his shoulder, moving on only once he can slip his arm around the one joining him. Dark eyes drift to those giggling trio of Healers and hopefully they'll be kind (and wise) enough to give him the answers he seeks. "Is Wingrider D'ani here, by chance?" Th'ero asks in a low and firm tone, lifting his head slightly to glance about the now emptied room.

Kimmila walks in behind Th'ero, and the bluerider looks a bit more haggard than she probably should. Thinner than before, and more pale, she walks with measured steps but there's a brightness to her eyes and an alertness to her posture that shows she's not here for her own health checkup. Reaching out, she rests a hand against Th'ero's back and nods to the Healers with a little smile.

Oh man, the Weyrleader is looking for the wingrider that played hooky! The trio nod and chime in together that he's just gone in. After the pair go on in, instead of heading off down the corridor for their free time, the three double back to follow - sneakily - in their wake to watch what goes down. They'll risk being put to work for this! By the time Th'ero and Kimmila enter, D'ani has reported in and is perched with his back to the door on a stool up near those metal cabinets and the desk. The supervising healer has rolled that table tray of sterile instruments she's had waiting for him all morning over and is off thumbing through the files for his chart. The girls sidle over, one offers to help remove the sling, the another starts unbuttoning D'ani's shirt while the bronzer's amused protests are ignored.

Th'ero will slip his arm around Kimmila in turn, keeping his arm about her waist even as they're lead inside. Though he looks ahead, occasionally his gaze will dart sidelong and there is no guess as to where it'll focus — or more to whom it'll settle on. The Weyrleader, worried? Of course he is. Subtly worried. The trio of Healers are given another brief glance as they sidle over and once Th'ero puts everything together, from D'ani's amused protests and all the tools and the supervising Healer also present, he blinks and his steps come to a slow stop just shy of the threshold of the door. "Would this be a bad time?" he asks, clearing his throat slightly and trying not to look directly at D'ani while the Healer girls tend to him.

Kimmila stops when Th'ero does, and her grin is crooked and wry. "Just can't get the girls to leave you alone can you, D'ani?" she drawls, just as amused. "This is a perfect time," she says up to Th'ero, her eyes bright with amusement. "How are you feeling?"

It would be rude of D'ani to swat those pretty hands away, right? He's saying, "Just undo the knot and I can-" Kimmila's voice turns his head over his shoulder and he manages to look forlorn, "If only that were true of the right one!" Then he grins. "Better… than when you last saw me? Hello Sir," he adds respectfully. While he's sidetracked by greeting the Weyrleader and his sidekick, his shirt has been unbuttoned and the girls are attempting to slip it off him. Meanwhile, the supervisor returns with his chart, the Weyrleader and his weytrmate is spotted and thus it is handed off absently to one of the girls while she heads towards them immediately. "Are you here for treatment," she asks Th'ero, and she includes Kimmila in her concerned question. They get that because, let's face it: they're looking a touch… peaked .

Th'ero turns his head to look down at Kimmila for her comment on the timing, but he only shakes his head and does not protest. "Hello, D'ani," he says, straightening again and this time he does glance to the younger bronzerider, smirking a bit for the banter exchanged. That soon slips into a vague smile however, "You look much better than the last time we crossed paths," Both times. Just as he's about to step inside a little further, the supervisor is closing in and Th'ero's attention focuses in on him with a narrowed look. "No, we're not here for treatment. We're both fine but thank you for your concern." he replies, formally and a bit clipped. Peaked or not, the Weyrleader isn't that much off his game. Again, Th'ero's eyes will drift back to D'ani and he will motion with a tilt of his head, "We came to speak to him, actually." No apology given either!

Kimmila arches a brow at D'ani, not losing that amused look. "Ahh, so there /is/ a 'right one'? Who?" Her eyes go to the ladies surrounding him, and then she tries to peek at his injury. Morbidly curious, perhaps. Glancing swiftly at the Healer when she approaches, she just shakes her head. "No, thank you, I'm fine. Mother's seen to us." Play the Mom Card. Whether it's true or not…

Yes indeed. Today D'ani isn't fellis-drugged, so there's that little plus helping him to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed rather than dopey-dull and sleepy-tongued. The supervisor gives the pair a skeptical look, not one bit rebuffed by clipped tone or Mother Card. She mmhmms, but they're let off the hook. Weyrleaders are busy people; she doesn't expect him to wait. "You're welcome to, then, if he doesn't mind while I remove his stitches." And with a head motion, she beckons them to approach, turning back to her task. "Hey now, there's nothing wrong with my hands! I can-" Sigh. D'ani gives up and shrugs out of his shirt, his snatch for it missing as one of the girls dances away with it. "You! Scram or you'll be on for a double." Giggling, the three depart, taking D'ani's shirt with them. His eyeroll towards the rest of them says, 'See what I have to deal with in here?!' "I haven't found her yet?" he tries in answer to Kimmila. Will she buy that? "I'm feeling a lot better, Sir," he says. See how chipper he is? Nevermind he can't lift his hand above his collarbone, he's realy to go back to his duties!

Oh, the conversations he tunes back into! With the supervisor dealt with and answered with a simple nod, Th'ero quirks a brow for Kimmila's amused reply to D'ani. Right one, what now? There is a small but visible nudge that he gives his weyrmate then and a look that comes off as chiding and yet not at all serious. "No need to pry, Kimmila," he drawls with another half-smile which extends to a full one at the young bronzerdier's suffering look. Which the Weyrleader totally doesn't buy — not all of it. He does buy into the reply though, "Never good to rush matters such as those," he remarks in a level tone but no longer as firm or low. Is he actually warming up a bit? "So I can see. And you can drop the Sir, D'ani. Formality somehow doesn't quite… fit this situation." Yet. Th'ero snorts then but it's close to amused as his eyes study the bronzerider with a lingering and curious glance. He will approach though, drawing Kimmila along side him unless the bluerider protests. "How long have they given you for the all clear on your recovery?"

Kimmila doesn't mind watching, as she just gives the Healer a little nod. Then she grins. "Well, no need to rush it. Even then, it might take you a few tries to find the right one." Aww, was that a little glance to Th'ero? Moving forward with the Weyrleader, she slips her free hand into her pocket and watches the healer proceed.

Yeaaaah D'ani is sitting here half-naked, so formality might be a bit out of place. His smile is crooked, a bit on the sheepish side. Maybe he was taking some shelter in that formailty? "Okay," he says before his grimace accompanies his answer, "Two more sevendays," he says, clearly not pleased. The smile he gives Kimmila's is a lop-sided one, as if somehow the idea of 'trying' finds him reluctant for some reason. The healer works silently, unobtrusively, donning gloves, taking up redwort and dabbing the stitched and healing inch and a half incision situated in the shaved spot just under his collarbone. While she takes up tiny shears in one hand and tweezers in the other, begins snipping the stitches one by one, he asks, "So how are you feeling, S- Th'ero?" A slow, sly grin, "You're looking a lot better too."

Half-nakedness, the infirmary and about to undergo a minor medical procedure? Definitely a killer for any formality. Th'ero will only keep his expression neutral, save for the actual small smile given to the bronzerider. Oh, the Weyrleader is feeling a touch awkward at this too. Normally he'd be far more stiff and stoic, rigidly formal in situations like this. So either the man has changed (maybe the near-drowning did some good!) or… there is something afoot. "Could be worse," he replies though the grimace that twists the corners of his mouth show some sympathy. Th'ero has been down that road before… how many times now? Kimmila's look is not lost and the Weyrleader even returns that little glance and draw her closer. Something really must be going on. Not between them (duh) but in general. "I feel better. Only a bit of bruising left." And near death by water. "It would seem you've got the brunt of it this time though." Th'ero points out, gaze dropping to where the Healers have begun to work. There his gaze remains, even as he asks, "Has anyone filled you in on the latest news?"

Kimmila's nose wrinkles in sympathy. "Until you can move around? Or until you're fully healed?" she prods. She glances up at Th'ero and then at D'ani, clearing her throat a little bit and looking away for a moment. "Only a bit of bruising," she echoes with a small nod. It could have been so much worse. As evidenced by her, well. Sobbing. "You did," she agrees, gaze snapping back to D'ani. "I've been there. It's…" No fun? Understatement. "It sucks ass. Hang in there."

"I'm glad you're better," he says simply, though the sentiment is heartfelt. Looks passed between Kimmila and Th'ero, then back again? This is nothing new, the pair are always doing that. The hugging thing though. D'ani hadn't seen that done so openly before. His look slides to Kimmila, his expression thoughtful, perhaps a touch of wistful - and quickly masked - for reasons that have nothing to do with either of them. He coughs, answering Kimmila too quickly, "Until I can resume strenuous activity with this arm." Like hog tying Hotar- ahh calves. "And you, Kimmila? How are you?" With them all in the line of fire, he's sure she collected some sort of hit. News though. He tilts Th'ero a curious look, "Nooooo…." he says slowly, uncertainly. He's pretty sure the Weyrleader wouldn't be down here to fill him in on idle gossip, so it must be something more… important. The first thing that flashes into his mind is, "Please don't tell me Laris crawled out of the water and slipped away?"

Th'ero gives Kimmila another one of those famous looks passed between them at times and this one following when she looks away and clears her throat. He doesn't correct the bluerider though and when D'ani asks her directly, he will leave her to answer how she pleases. As for her blunt reassurance, he only smirks but his eyes carry an amused flicker to them. "Well put," he murmurs. It does suck! He misses that wistful look from the young bronzerider, but there is a brow quirked for the too quick response. Clearing his throat, he murmurs, "We're all lucky that we came out as unscathed as we did." Oh, how it could have been so much worse! Seems for once the opposing side took the worst of it. "No?" Th'ero sounds genuinely surprised by D'ani's answer. What did the Weyrleader expect? His harsh short and incredulous look may be evidence enough to put any worry or doubts aside before he even speaks, "Faranth, no. The man is quite dead. We had the body recovered." He wanted his sword back! "Proof, I suppose you can say… Rather morbid but we had to be certain. I meant more concerning the masses of holdless folk we had. We've had to come to a rather difficult decision concerning them…" he allows the sentence to drift, eyes now watching D'ani as if waiting on a response.

Kimmila doesn't notice the wistful look either, and it's probably a good thing because it'd be awkward. "I am mending," she murmurs, leaning more heavily against Th'ero's side even though she seems healthy enough. She elaborates a moment later though. "It is…not easy to kill. Or to almost lose the one you…" Love? C'mon, /say/ it. But she doesn't. She just shakes her head and looks away again, brows furrowed and lost to her thoughts. She does smirk though at the mention of recovering Laris' body. A dark, twisted smirk.

Oh aye they did! D'ani looks vastly relieved about the body of Laris, morbid or not. "Good!" he says emphatically. Grimly, "That saves me having to go and dive for it myself." And why the vehement satisfaction? "For Ezra's sake," he clarifies just as darkly as Kimmila smirked a moment ago. Of course, he too will rest easier now that he knows for certain himself that the cruel man is gone forever. The bluerider doesn't have to finish her sentence. D'ani saw her sobbing, heard the cry that cut him to the core. He'll be satisfied with her deflected answer, nodding about her also mending. The holdless masses Th'ero mentions… he squints while considering them, "You mean the ones that are driving Dtirae to distraction with the influx of activity the Weyr must exert to see to them? The ones out beyond the Weyr's perimeter?" He's heard of them, if that's what Th'ero meant by 'news'. He hasn't yet had time to consider their plight and so little compassion has been mustered for them.

Th'ero will lean back against Kimmila, supporting her though he makes it seem as he's only shifting his weight to that side. Convient! Her elaboration though has his attention drawing away from D'ani to focus on her. She may not have said it but he knows what was implied and though his skin flushes a bit with color there is a small smile but a hint of sadness there. Sadness and understanding. "Killing should never be easy. Not in any situation," he reflects softly, but his gaze turns to D'ani again then and the Weyrleader lifts his chin slightly. The Stonehavens. "You can tell Ezra that it is confirmed. If the boy hasn't learned of it already…" Somehow Th'ero figures he has. "So Dtirae has filled you in then?" he says, a brow quirking up in mild interest to know that the Weyrwoman had already been to visit. "Yes, those would be the ones. We did transport them here and they are being housed temporarily at the camps just outside the Weyr." That would be the news it seems or the start of it. Th'ero's gaze narrows slightly and there is a brief pause as the Weyrleader collects his thoughts and continues on, "They need to be sorted through. Interrogated, interviewed. Some of those folks are innocent. Fools, but innocent. We cannot just let them go, nor can we judge them all under one crime. Even with help from Harper Hall, we are spread thin. As I'm sure Dtirae mentioned." Cue another smirk. So what's he getting at? "Injury aside, would you be interested in overseeing some of this?"
Kimmila nods, thoughtful expression persisting at the mention of Ezra. She recovers and nods, looking between the two men. And then at Th'ero's question, the bluerider looks expectantly at D'ani. "We need someone who can keep track of the interviews - or delegate it to someone who can. Someone to be in charge. A presence, so we know this task is being done correctly and with justice in mind. Be it punishment or freedom." It's a big task! Scared yet?

"I told him," Dani says, his voice roughened. Well, he told both Ezra and Rayathess, but Ezra's need to know looms larger in his mind. But he explains with a wry twist of lips, "He would…imagine him eluding death, if I know him at all." Acceptance, that's all there is in his tone for the boy's well-founded fears. "I'll let him know," he adds of the body. As for Dtirae, he shakes his head. "She just seemed… beleaguered. I guessed." Overseeing? This earns a curious look. He was hardly the patient interrogator of Rayathess, Th'ero witnessed that. Cautiously - more from knowing his own limitations he asks, "What would you have me do?" Kimmila supplies the answer and D'ani's dark eyes shift to her. Scared? His mouth twitches, pulled into a lopsided smile despite his best attempt not to let it. "It's something I could do one-handed," he says at length, amused somehow by his own comment - or the thought that prompted it. Overseeing the task doesn't seem to daunt him, but he's not taking it lightly, as evidenced by his grave request: "I'll do it if holder Rayathess will agree to assist the effort." Yes, his mind has made the leap to what the hold-heir's rightful place is. And he clarifies his impulse, "The people were his first concern after hearing of Laris' demise."

Th'ero nods his head in agreement to Kimmila's elaboration to his previous statements, a sidelong glance given to her to show his approval for her stepping in when he begins to drift too far into his cryptic habits. He gives a nod to D'ani concerning Ezra, allowing that topic to slide for now in favor of other pressing matters. "Beleaguered?" That has him frowning. When was the last time he and the Weyrwoman spoke? His response is likely hint enough: too long. Perhaps the Weyrleader has forgotten D'ani's behavior during Rayathess' interrogation or he may consider that a very specific situation, one he doubts would recur as emotionally charged in others. If had had shown fear, things may have ended quite differently. Instead, the comment he makes only has Th'ero's lips curving into a smirk and this time the man does look amused. "Indeed," he drawls, making no witty remark in return. Perhaps another time! His brows knit together then and he gives D'ani a long look. Holder? "I've not considered Rayathess as a likely person to ask for help in such as task. Nor am I certain if he will accept. Concern is one thing, but his willingness to actually step in maybe another." Or simply put: Th'ero doesn't quite trust the lad. "But I suppose I will leave that to your discretion, D'ani." The Weyrleader is shifting against Kimmila then, though he keeps his hold on her firm as his other reaches across to reach into one of his pockets. Lesson of the day: Beware the Weyrleader bearing gifts. Alas, it's no sword this time. Even folded, it's clear what it is: a rank knot and it's the tassel that will give it away for what it is. That one lone silver tassel. "Kimmila was right. We need a presence and someone in charge." And Th'ero cannot be in all places at once. The offer and the knot will be extended to D'ani then, the Weyrleader likely waiting until the Healers are well removed from working on him.

Kimmila laughs, her grin genuine and the sound light, at D'ani's one-handed quip. "Well, lucky for you, you are," she teases him. "The Harpers will be conducting the actual interviews, but we need one of our own there." And then she quiets as Th'ero offers that knot, and her bright green eyes watch D'ani closely for his response.

The healer has been all but forgotten throughout the procedure. Okay maybe there's been a twinge or two of oddly-disquieting tugs and tweaks as those stitches have been removed one by one. But D'ani is quelling his response to that stoically as if this weren't happening. It really only takes a few moments to remove the ten or so sutures, the healer dabbing the area with a salve and taping a light bandage over it. Used supplies and that cart are wheeled off, leaving them to the privacy of their conversation, though no doubt she'll be back sometime before he escapes to tell him to check back in daily so they can at least eyeball that healing surgical site. D'ani mulls yesterday's encounter with the Weyrwoman afresh before saying, "She looked like she could use a break." There's no pointed eyeing of the pair, but if they feel as if there is, well. That is perhaps their own guilty consciences. As for Rayathess, "He may not, but can you think of anyone more suited? Rayathess has spent time with them, so he will be invaluable in discerning their character. And Stonehaven will need people. These will need a place to start anew." D'ani does understand Th'ero's caution. "I trust him," he says firmly and with conviction, "because I understand sacrificing reputation for family when dire circumstance dictates such." His brown eyes hold steady on the Weyrleader's. There's something that speaks of experience, but he doesn't go into it. The knot is produced and the implications smack him like a ton of bricks. A stunned look is flickered between the pair and he's at a loss for words. They're asking for more, much more than seeing to refugees, he gets this. "You…" he flounders. He's honored. He's humbled. He doubts their sanity. He wonders if the healers have given them fellis. Or maybe he's been injected without his knowledge. "Me?" When there are so many older, more experienced riders?

Though it doesn't show, Th'ero is relieved that the Healer makes a quiet exit as the conversation takes a rather serious and more private turn. The less ears to overhear this the better, though regardless of the outcome, word will spread somehow about what transpired here. No guilt shows either for D'ani's comment on the Weyrwoman's need of a break, but the comment is not entirely lost. He knows Dtirae is a strong and capable woman, so his concern does not run too deep. The Weyrleader is simply tucking it away for now, in favor of other issues to address. A brow quirks up for D'ani's firm reply concerning Rayathess and Th'ero's posture straightens, chin lifting slightly as he glances back steadily at the bronzerider, not in challenge but something closer to respect. "And it's with remarks and understanding like that that I'm — we're —" And he turns to glance down to Kimmila with a faint smile, though his head also tilts to motion towards the vague direction to the Queen's ledges. Weyrwoman is on this too! "Confident that you're the man for the job and rank." Maybe their sanity should be questioned, but Th'ero is quite firmly set on the decision. The knot is set next to him, as the Weyrleader is not about to hold it out forever nor force it upon him. So it'll rest there, left for D'ani to choose in the end by his own hand. "You." Th'ero echoes with another small smile and now his tone really is amused, but he does not elaborate further, appearing a touch awkward now as he fumbles with a sidelong look given to Kimmila.

Kimmila snorts softly, rolling her eyes a bit at D'ani. "We all need a break," she mutters. She feels no guilt. None. Dtirae wanted to take Th'ero's knot away after all. She should've been prepared for the work load, even though she let him keep his knot in the end. Then she frowns, shaking her head slightly. "They won't be going to Stonehaven, unless Rayathess and Ezra wish it. We have other ideas for that. But…before that, they must be interviewed and sorted." Where's The Sorting Hat when you need it? Everyone in Slytherin gets exiled. But then she grins, wry and crooked, and nods. "Faranth, yes, you. I've wanted you as Weyrsecond since shortly after the hatching," she admits. No pressure there, right?

Yeaaaah D'ani's pointed eyeing was a hint that the pair before him also look like they could use a break, not that they're responsible for Dtirae's lack of funtime. He should send them all to Maiona or something for surfing and deepsea fishing! He eyes the knot and the idea occurs to him that he could actually suggest something like that as Weyrsecond (not that they'd listen, but); the idea causes the corners of his mouth to twitch as he fights the humorous scenarios that run through his mind. Meanwhile his eyes remain steady on the Weyrleader for the most part, his expression properly serious, his thoughts run to the more weighty of matters such as the needs of the Weyr, the plans of the leaders of it, Ezra and Rayathess, his own personal quest and lastly his craft. Sacrifices will have to be made. Can he do it? Accepting the white knot meant that his priorities would become subject to a dragon and the Weyr, he's sorted through that one long ago. Kimmila speaks and her words sink in. Brows lift and he's surprised anew. Oh, riiiiight no pressure there! His mouth opens, closes. He clears his throat. Finally, "I'm honored you think so highly of me. I'll try not to… let you down." That's what has had him hesitating in reaching for the knot. That and he… has no shirt to pin it on?

Th'ero makes a low sound not unlike an exasperated sigh to Kimmila's muttered comment, though the Weyrleader only smirks. "Time will come for that," he murmurs. Yeah right, it will. There was a reason why Dtirae went to the extreme of taking Th'ero's knot away. He blinks, frowning when she goes on to mention the holdless and Stonehaven and he tenses. Not by much, but there is a noted stiffness to his shoulders. "I do not think that is wise to suggest. We don't know Rayathess' intentions with his home hold and I worry that even broaching that idea to either of them would insult them both. Faranth knows if there are some in that group still from the original assault." he says, shaking his head. "We do have other ideas. Ones that may work or may not. But until we know who we are dealing with we are at a very tense stalemate." Oh, if only there were a Sorting Hat! Then they could all wisk off to a tropical vacation somewhere sooner rather than later! D'ani may be surprised how much he can suggest and may actually be considered. Th'ero IS a stubborn man (to put it lightly) at times, but he can be convinced to see reason if the other stands their ground long enough. Fishing may be out of the question, but the young bronzerider would not know the reasons behind it — yet. Perhaps in time, if the two ever discuss anything beyond duty and work. Sacrifices always have to be made, but Th'ero must feel confident that D'ani can achieve the balance he personally needs to excel. No pressure at all and the Weyrleader chuckles for Kimmila's truthfulness, "She wasn't the only one. I was observing as well, from Candidacy through Weyrlinghood." Slightly creepy? "We had only begun to truly discuss it when M'lo quietly put in notice of a request to step down once a suitable replacement was found." Th'ero then lifts a hand to gesture towards D'ani to point out the obvious only to let it fall back to his side when at last the young bronzerider comes to his decision. "I know this is quite a difficult and challenging step to take, but we're confident that you will not let us down." he murmurs and then his smile returns, wry and broad. "And I won't be vanishing on any vacation either until this whole sordid affair with the holdless is completed and you've had some time to adjust to the rank." No 'Congrats you're Weyrsecond! Weyr is all yours and I'm on vacation!' it seems. That'd be too simple (and cruel)!

Kimmila nods, giving Th'ero a pointed look. Yes, time /will/ come for that. She needs a break too. "Right," she agrees, "sorting them out first. Then we'll figure out where each person - each family - will be placed. Some might wish to return to their original holdings, if their Lords will allow them. But," she waves her free hand, "again, that'll come later." Then she grins, looking at the knot and then the shirtless Weyrsecond. "Could just loop it around your neck like a scarf?" Or a noose? She's joking, really, as she grins at the man. She looks quite pleased and even a bit smug. "You'll do fine," she says airily, not seeming concerned in the least.

Already under M'icha's microscope, it's a good thing he didn't know what Th'ero and Kimmila were thinking during all those months of Weyrlinghood. "Thanks?" says D'ani of them not vanishing and leaving him to deal with all this on his own at once (stuff of nightmares there - never mind Sorting Hat, we're talking Mad Hatter here). Oh, he'll have questions about those holders - and Stonehaven but this isn't the place to ask them. A noose, Kimmila says and D'ani laughs, rises from the stool he'd been sitting rather numbly on since this conversation began. He reaches for the knot and then holds it almost reverently running it though his fingers. "Thank you, both of you," he says huskily then the corners of his eyes crinkle and he slides a teasing look at Kimmila. "Sooooo, Weyrthird, does this mean I outrank you now (Ultimate Power - iiiiitty biiiiitty living space)?"

Th'ero only returns Kimmila's pointed look and then smirks. He knows! "That will all come later," he agrees and then snorts for her suggestion. Relief does show on the man's features though and that tension that had built now vanishes and his posture becomes more at ease if not closer to relaxed. At D'ani's laughter, the Weyrleader actually grins! A little one, but he's grinning. "You'll be fine," he adds, echoing Kimmila's previous comment. "Though we owe our thanks to you as well for accepting and we are grateful." Th'ero most of all, even if he can't outrightly say it or show it. Though the teasing is directed to Kimmila, even the Weyrleader glances down to her before darting his eyes back to D'ani and that grin does not falter. "Careful," he warns the newly knotted Weyrsecond, but his voice is filled with laughter as he goes on to drawl teasingly, "You know what they say about playing with fire."

Kimmila laughs, a short sound but a light and genuine one. "M'lo didn't," she says with dry humor. "We'll see how you do." So…it's possible she might obey him.

Yeah, like D'ani would ever think to give Kimmila an order! Unless it's "RUN!" right before something explodes. He's still in awe of her (she has more access to Th'ero's pants than Dtirae, ie she manages Th'ero, or so he believes) though he'll probably try to keep that sentiment unspoken. "You're welcome," he says to them both, still somewhat bemused (maybe when he sees the paperwork involved he'll see why they're so grateful). On that thought, a question occurs to him, "Do I, uh, have a desk somewhere or is it just a carton of papers and a corner table in the library?" It's asked somewhat facetiously as he rubs the back of his neck and eyes the pair. Here he stands, newly-knotted as Fort's Weyrsecond, shirtless and talking business in the infirmary with the lunch crowd due to start drifting in for blisters, ingrown toenails and sunburn salve. Does it get any more surreal than this?

There better not be explosions. They've enough on their hands as it is! And it may be wise to keep that sentiment quiet from Th'ero's ears. Nodding his head to D'ani, the Weyrleader then snorts and shoots him an almost incredulous look. "Shards no, man. You'll have a desk and an office to call your own, if not just next to mine." Office buddies! Somehow not as exciting or fun as it may seem, if at all. The situation is rather surreal, but Th'ero has momentarily forgotten that they had all but cornered D'ani in the Infirmary. Whether it's the young bronzerider rubbing at his neck or the look they receive or some other cause, the Weyrleader looks away and back towards the door as if considering some private thought. "Anything else you'd like to discuss? Now that the largest part of this is settled, I see no reason to linger here. How does the shoulder feel?" he asks, nodding a bit to where the now stitch-free wound is bandaged. "You don't have to take on your new responsibilities today either. May be for the best to just relax," It may be his last chance for some time! Th'ero smiles crookedly, "And report to the offices in the morning."

Kimmila just grins, leaning against Th'ero and looking content with this whole business. "Nice office," she agrees with a nod, before she's straightening up and pulling her arm back from Th'ero, brushing some hair away from her face. "Enjoy the down time while you have it," she adds, smile wry. But she's pleased. Very pleased and happy that he took the knot, and it shows.

Especially if they're explosions of temper. Those are no fun! An office and desk! At least he won't be mistaken for a librarian? Though his eyes are bright with keen interest, he shakes his head no about further discussion. He's laid-back enough to learn things as he goes. "It's, y'know, still a little sore. I don't need the fellis anymore, thankfully." And he's now free of that pesky arm-sling, yay! Relax they say and D'ani shoots them a look of disbelief. Butbut! Didn't they just give him a one-handed job?! Besides, relaxing is driving him nuts! "Tomorrow, then," he concedes ruefully. "I have things I'll need to settle with the beastcraft." Like who's going to teach his classes and do uh, castrations and whatnot until he figures out the new routine. He's happy they're happy, says the little grin he gives them. He's not unpleased himself now that he's recovering from shock. "I'll see you both later then," he says and makes his escape before the healer can return and put further restrictions upon him. Right now he's going to find his shirt, which he is not too sexy for, despite the opinions of the trio that swiped it.

"It is a nice office," Th'ero muses, glancing down to Kimmila again as she straightens up and his hand will linger for a moment against her back before falling to his side. His mouth twists into a grimace and even his nose wrinkles a bit in distaste when D'ani mentions fellis. Someone isn't fond at all of the medicine and is doing a very poor job at hiding it! "Thankfully." he agrees as his features relax again and return to an easy going smile. "But it's good news to know that you're mending. The issue concerning the holdless can wait another half a day." he replies dryly, eyeing the new Weyrsecond back for his look of disbelief. "Best to tackle it with a refreshed outlook anyhow," Meaning well rested! Another lesson Th'ero hasn't quite mastered yet. He nods his head when the Beastcraft is mentioned, adding in his own quiet tone. "I'll see to it that the Weyrwoman and staff are informed, as well as the Guard Captain and his officers that you're now Weyrsecond." Which will mean the news will spread fast beyond that. Hopefully D'ani has a few places to hide! "See you tomorrow morning," Th'ero drawls before the Weyrsecond can escape, pleased as well with the outcome of the visit. Once D'ani is gone, the Weyrleader exhales heavily and scrubs tiredly at his face, fingers sweeping briefly through his hair as he straightens again and turns, pausing to glance sidelong to Kimmila. "Well that went… smoothly." Sort of? "Time we departed too, Wingmate. We've lingered here long enough." No way will he stay in the infirmary for any longer that he needs to!

Kimmila holds her silence, just smiling and nodding, watching D'ani flee with an amused glint to her eyes. Absently tidying up his area once he's gone, she nods and glances over her shoulder to Th'ero. "Agreed. Where are we off to next?" Oh wait, she wears the pants. Or gets into his pants. Or…something with pants. An idea occurs to her and she grins, reaching for his hand. "No, wait. Come, wingmate. I have a thought." And off they go!


'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.