Fort Weyr - Weyrleaders' Office
Aged by time, this office has lived through the ages of Fort just as its counterparts have. But unlike the Weyrsecond and Junior Weyrwomen offices, this cavern is spacious and formed in a rough semicircle of three conjoined caves that were carved and modified Turns ago. The middle portion acts as a waiting room of sorts, holding only a few modest chairs and a simple tapestry to otherwise brighten up the plain stone walls. There are no windows here and the only light comes from well placed glow baskets.
To the right, the smaller of the two adjoining caverns has been set aside for the Weyrwoman, a large desk situated in the middle and a bookshelf pressed against the wall. A small hearth allows for some warmth in the colder months and another cabinet rests across the room to hold various supplies, as well as several books, reports and records. More tapestries have been hung there, lending some color to room.
On the left, the larger cavern belongs to the Weyrleader's office and the walls here are littered with a vast array of maps, as well as a tapestry hung behind where he would sit. The desk is large and the wood aged, looking old and a bit worn, but well tended too. Shelves and a bookshelf line one wall, crammed with rolled hides, other maps, books, reports and records and all arranged in an organized chaos. A small hearth has been built in here as well and various well placed glow baskets are hung to offer just the right amount of light in this windowless office.
Both offices have stout wooden doors that have been carefully worked into the stone. They can be closed and locked if privacy is needed but are often left open.

Mid-morning sees the Weyr in deep winter. It's cold out and cold enough that even the stone seems frozen. It's a day where most avoid going outside if they can, where the wind alone can sting after only a few minutes of exposure. It's uncommon that Fort sees whether this bitterly cold but today is proving to be one of those days. Mercifully, here in the offices, it's WARM. There's a fire in the hearth and hot drink always simmering. Despite the warmth and light cast by fire and glows, Th'ero is brooding in an icy storm of his own. The Weyrleader is troubled and, as most have learned when he's like this, angry. Furious. Contained, for now. Luckily it's Velokraeth who summons Ha'ze, doing his best to imply the urgency to Kainaesyth, sleepy bronze or not. The longer the bronzerider takes to get to the Weyrleader's Office… the worst this will be.

Ha'ze seems to be making a habit of being tardy to things lately. Absent from the late summer flight, late to pretty much every touching he was suppose to be there at, late to the hatching… And now late to this meeting with Th'ero. For all of Velokraeth's prodding, it still took some doing to get Kainaesyth to warm up against the bitter chill and settle them away from the protections of their ledge (which Ha'ze manages to keep more or less warm, for the sake of the plants. If he had the money he'd make a proper greenhouse out of it, but no, e-x-p-e-n-s-i-v-e.) There Ha'ze takes his time making it inside. He's got a… fairly shrewd idea of why Th'ero would be calling him, and he is at his most obstinate. Thus when he finally enters and makes a just-barely-passing salute, it's will a mullish expression and set shoulders.

Nothing is thrown at Ha'ze and there is no explosion either, not even at that just-barely a salute that is offered. Th'ero just pins him with the coldest stare and he doesn't command him to sit down. Probably because he figures he wouldn't and because he knows this meeting will likely be brief. "We're going to skip the nonsense," he explains in a flat, icy tone. "and I want you to answer me honestly." No bullshit. He doesn't say it, but the warning is implied. His fingers tap idly against a few thin sheets of hide. Letters? Reports? Hard to say. So who tattled? Doesn't matter. "You brought several Candidates to Fort Sea Hold as part of the excursions. Did you intentionally use them to gather information, knowing full well of the dangers?"

Well. This is already going poorly. Ha'ze settles himself a few steps away from there and folds his arms across his chest. His whole posture is one that is ready for a physical confrontation - event though the chances of that happening are fairly small. "I pulled several of the candiadtes off and asked them to go listen. Yes." Challenging, it's all laid out right there. Ha'ze doesn't even try to deny it.

Th'ero wasn't expecting Ha'ze to deny it but that doesn't keep the disappointment from settling in. It shows in a slight drop of his shoulders before he steels himself and his posture tenses again, jaw working silently. Challenge is sensed and he is NOT impressed. "Are you that stupid, Ha'ze? That reckless and foolish?" Eyes narrow and placing his hands flat on his desk he will push himself up to his full height, looming silently as he gathers his thoughts. "I could overlook your carelessness in regards to yourself as a rider. THIS, however, goes too far! Not only for the sheer risk involved but that you had the nerve to do it without informing anyone of your plans. The excursions are meant to be educational — not to be perverted for ulterior motives!" The rambling ceases and Th'ero takes a slow, steadying breath, eyes flashing with that temper he so barely holds in check. "Why?" he growls, pinning Ha'ze again with a darkening glare. "Why the Candidates?"

"Because they were unknowns. No connection back to us. There were chances that they might hear something we won't. I don't agree with this bull shit pacifist policy you and the goldriders," and D'ani, "have agreed to. We don't know enough. They were there and useful." And Ha'ze doesn't feel a single moment of guilt. Every single one of them got out without harm, and Lucy even managed to do some shopping. He doesn't flinch under that gaze, just sets his jaw even more strongly. Stubborn.

"That bullshit pacifist policy is one that has been in place since the founding of the Weyrs. We do not meddle with the Holds unless we must!" Th'ero states in a voice that doesn't grow heated but, somehow, colder. Any lack of guilt from Ha'ze only feeds the fuel behind the Weyrleader's temper. "There were chances they could've come to harm too! Did you ever think of that? That you would have jeopardized their well being for your gain… and risk that in their absence, one of Kouzevelth and Kainaesyth's hatchlings not find their match!" Worse case scenario and likely never to happen but it's a point he's trying to get across.

Ha'ze snorts, his arms across his chest tightening. "The harm was minimal. They kept to public places," except for the overly lyrical harper who allowed himself to be drug off into a corner by another harper, "and in pairs. Lucy was with Daralyn, and Gabriella with A'ster, both guard trained. No one has turned up dead here yet. Just inconvienced. It was worth the risk." He's firm on that and NOT about to yield. His dark gaze holds firm on Th'ero's. While the Weyrleader's voice rises, Ha'ze's is steady, determined.

"It is never worth risking Candidates!" Th'ero states equally firmly and steady, though he'll shake his head and for a brief moment look disappointed. Did Ha'ze fail, in some way? Seems so, as the Weyrleader steps around his desk with a purposeful air about him. Shoulders set, jaw tensed and expression grim. "You just don't understand," he explains and there is no heat or anger there. Sadness, maybe. "And you never will learn if something isn't done about it." Is this where the fists fly? It might seem that way, as Th'ero lifts his hand up but it's not to knock some sense into Ha'ze (though it IS tempting!). His hand will reach for his knot instead and should the bronzerider not react too harshly or resist, Th'ero will seek to rid him of it even if it means ruining it. All the more impacting that way. "I've put up with your stupidity for Turns now, Ha'ze. "… so what am I to do with you? Demote you?" That's a trick question!"

Ha'ze doesn't move as Th'ero approaches. Though his fists at his side do ball… just in case Th'ero does let a punch fly. But no. When the knot rips off his shoulder, leaving behind a rip in the fabric under. That gathers a flash of anger, as Ha'ze's jaw sets in place. "I tried to give my knot back to you turns ago." There's a quiet danger in his voice, violence held just at bay. The fact that such an action Th'ero's part would have left Kainaesyth to die… well. He'll think about that when less angry.

Th'ero grimaces. "That was a different situation," he points out even as his eyes leave Ha'ze for a moment to look at the knot now held in one hand. He keeps it held there, clenched in his fingers even as his hand lowers and his gaze pins the bronzerider down. "You had potential then and part of me still, even if foolishly, believes you do. You could be one of my best riders — Only your reckless behaviour has just gone… too far of late and worse because you are too blind to see why. I'm not going to demote you, Ha'ze." he explains, voice steady and even as he takes a small step towards the younger bronzerider. Just edging into personal space. "I'm temporarily exiling you. You and Kainaesyth will be going to Drake's Lake. No questions. You are not to return until I say you can. You will not be permitted to visit. Not for Abigail, not for your children, not for the Weyrlings. You report to Jajen and do what is asked of you and I will have Velokraeth inform Kayeth and Iaverulth of my decision. Try to evade this and I WILL hunt you down…" Not advisable to try. He hunted down his own Weyrwoman once when Dtirae fled. He's well experienced. "… perhaps in a few weeks or months time I'll allow you to come back under my watch." He pauses just long enough for the last of his sentence to drift into a tense silence and he takes a slow breath, exhaled heavily as he edges back a bit to stare down at Ha'ze. "Understood?" Protest now or forever hold your peace.

A hiss of indrawn breath there as Th'ero lays down the punishment. "It's winter." The words come first to his mind- though it's a bad argument, for, of course, it is not Winter in Drake's Lake. But then, the rest of it settles in. Ha'ze actually steps forward, his fist curled. "You will not stop me from seeing the twins." (Except Kayeth could and that would just be the saddest showdown EVER between gold and sleep-tired Kai.)

Th'ero isn't cowed by Ha'ze's threatening approach. He just stands his ground as if this is the result he expected. "Yes, I will and you WILL follow these orders. I can't stop Abigail from going to see YOU but as long as you're "exiled" from this Weyr, you are not going to step foot within the territory." It stands to reason he will talk to Abigail, at least to explain his decision to her. "I warned you, Ha'ze. Countless times!" And so this is the punishment dealt.

"I did the right thing." Ha'ze believes that with every fiber of his being. His fists are clenched and he is seconds away from throwing a punch at Th'ero, for the injustice that is being infliched on Kainaesyth when abruptly, his eyes close and he shudders once. If Velokraeth was to reach out to Kainaesyth he'd find a chilled wind radiating off of the desert-bronze's mind. Chilled. Calming.

Again, Th'ero stands his ground and does not flinch or budge though he is aware of how close it came to blows. He's not foolish or completely daft. "Maybe," he frustratingly agrees and now his voice does sound disappointed along with the coldness. "But you went about it all the wrong way." Velokraeth is keeping a polite "tab" on Kainaesyth but the bronze is not interfering — not yet. "You'll leave tomorrow for Drake's Lake. I advise you use the rest of this day wisely."

Kainaesyth in winter-mind is not at all able to be roused to great emotion, and he bleeds Ha'ze's overwheming anger into the coolness of the desert, swirling it into the canyon below. He'll contain it for now. Ha'ze is just barely on this edge of anger, and he's not going to respond to Th'ero but instead turn on his heel and just leave.

It's for the best that Ha'ze leaves and Th'ero hardly lifts a brow for the way the bronzerider storms out. He doesn't even stop him and once he's gone, the Weyrleader turns back to his desk and quietly stuffs the old knot in a drawer somewhere. Lost in thought, his fingers rap idly against the desk in a troubled manner and with a muttered oath under his breath he too turns towards the door. Not to storm off but to find Nyalle, while Velokraeth informs Kayeth and things are set into motion…

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