Warning: Language

Fort Weyr - Headwoman's Office

This area is plainly set up as an office space. A slightly used desk, with a slightly used chair pushed up to it, is in the left corner immediately as one enters, and a set of bookshelves lines the right corner. Against the west wall, offset away from the door, is a curtained doorway that leads to the Bedroom. The curtain, made of fabrics of pure browns and dark blacks is pulled shut, firmly discouraging snooping. A comfortable couch and some chairs, along with a low table, are set up in the back left corner, though some more uncomfortable chairs are placed right on either sides of the door for when the Headwoman has to mete out punishment.
Next to the desk is a low cupboard, only coming up to about waist-high off the floor, and made of a dark, fine hardwood. On the top of the cupboard is an area made for holding glasses until one wants a drink of something. On the walls are various tapestries and even a painting - of the gentle, rolling seascape. The tapestries depicted have the common theme of Fort Weyr - a giant tapestry of Fort's crest is the most prominent, situated on the wall across from the door to the Hallway. Other tapestries depict everything from a formation of dragons fighting Thread over Fort Weyr, to gentler tasks, though most have dragons or firelizards woven into the design somewhere. Most decorations are done in either a deep, rich brown or a stark, unending void of black, with a spattering of royal blues thrown into the mix. This seems to be a room you can make yourself at home in.
The desk is hardly cluttered - it is clean and neat. There are, however, a few official looking notices piled neatly in one corner, and a stack of fresh hides and writing utensils in the other corner.


Gossip has spread throughout the Weyr like wildfire, variations of the story going throughout the Weyr. Dtirae throwing her mug of klah on the floor and demanding the knot from Neyuni, to Neyuni smacking the mug out of the poor girl's hands and shoving the knot in the place of the mug. Some are the truth, and some are variations of the truth. It just leaves those who were not there for the incident second guessing the actuality of the whole situation. And, the fact that Dtirae hasn't really traveled through the heavily populated areas does not help the rumors. In fact, it is unlikely that she's really left the office since getting the knot and a sympathetic few have brought her food and drinks, from the looks of it. And there in the office is where she sits, still, staring down the Senior's knot as if it just pulled a knife on her.

It won't take long for the gossip to filter through the ranks until it reaches a certain ear. Th'ero had just returned from his patrols, as the Weyrleader is wont to do most mornings. And true to his habits, he ignores the various tales. Eventually though, truth has a way of catching up and it's not long before Th'ero is beginning to sense something is amiss and that something may, indeed, be truthful in the gossip. When trying to find Neyuni for word on the matter fails, the Weyrleader turns his focus on hunting down the other involved. So it comes to pass that while most have come and gone already with their sympathy for Dtirae, it's Th'ero who's opening the door next. A casual question to the right folk and he was directed to the Headwoman's office, of all places. But he's not here to offer sympathy. He's here for the truth. Once the door is opened and he slips quickly and quietly inside, he lets the door close behind him with a barely audible click. Then the Weyrleader turns to face Dtirae, where she sits and he remains standing with his back to the door. No escape. The silence is total too, as he says nothing. Silence and tension and awkwardness… all left for the young goldrider to break.

Dtirae tenses at the sound of the door closing again, an indication of someone entering and not quite leaving. Grey eyes turn away from the knot and settle on the Weyrleader. Her expression is unreadable, but, there's certainly a mixture of everything that crosses her mind before settling into something amused. "Would you believe that Neyuni played a joke like this?" A soft, dry laugh comes forth as she lifts the knot from the desk, allowing it to dangle in the air, pinched between her thumb and index finger as if it were contaminated with something. More laughter, though it breaks with something that lingers in a bit of fear before she allows it to drop back onto the desk, wiping her hands on the legs of her pants. "The next gold to rise is going to be Senior, apparently. We may be waitin' a long time…"

Th'ero's expression also remains unreadable, even when Dtirae finally makes eye contact with him. He can sense some of the conflict in the young goldrider, but it's not until she's actually speaking to him that he has a better idea on just how deep things go. Taking a deep, steadying breath, the Weyrleader straightens himself only to cross his arms tightly over his chest. Dtirae may be laughing, but Th'ero's expression finally shifts to something closed and serious. Apparently, he does not have a sense of humor. "It's no joke," he murmurs, finally, after another lengthy pause of silence that would have most folk squirming slightly. The knot, when she holds it up, is given a cursory glance and a deeper frown. Clearly he holds no apprehension towards it. Then his eyes flick back to Dtirae and his mouth draws down into a thin line. "Perhaps and perhaps not. Zuvaleyuth could rise any day. Regardless… that's not our biggest concern, is it?" So much for sympathy and Th'ero's gaze intensifies to a longer look. "So what's the truth of it then?"

Dtirae is frowning as Th'ero's expression closes off and he doesn't exactly laugh along with her. The fact that it isn't a joke has likely dawned on her some time ago but when he says it, it is as if the book has been closed and the finality of it all, making no way to change the events. She draws her gaze away and looks back to the knot on the desk, staring there. "She won't rise." The woman insists softly, but then she tenses a bit more, startled as she gives him another look. "You want the truth? Neyuni was sitting in the Caverns, burning reports. I was asking her why, she said no one was listening to her and filing things electronically… I said she should just crack the non-literal whip and make people do what she says because she's Senior… I forgot what happened after that, other than saying that I'm sure people have retired with claims that the stress was bad for their health. Next thing I know, she's throwing the knot at me and I'm catching it. Not sure 'bout anythin' after that…"

"She will. Days, sevendays, months, Turns, doesn't matter." Th'ero intones almost gravely, his voice barely above a murmur. Why bother speaking loudly when they're alone in an office? It makes it all the more unsettling, the way he's behaving. Cold, impersonal and completely shut off in order to shield his thoughts and emotions. There's a brisk, stiff nod when Dtirae echoes back his request and then he's silent again to listen. And it's the truth that has him finally showing a twitch of emotion: surprise. Surprise and something more flickers in his eyes. Uncertainty? Guilt? Who knows. "She was burning /records/?" he asks softly, giving the younger goldrider a look that subtly hints that he may want more on that. Important ones? Then the mask is back and he exhales heavily, "So in a fit of stress, she just… threw you the knot? That's it? Made the decision right then and there?"

Dtirae's lips twitch lightly, a slight frown but saying nothing on her lifemate's time to rise. There's a slight shrug, hearing him fine in the silence of the office. There are no other voices to drown out their conversation. Her fingers twitch a little more and she leans back in er seat, closing her eyes a bit as she takes a deep breath, blocking the man for a brief moment, trying to recall the whole thing exactly. "They weren't important, she said. Flight? Maybe sweeps… Reports. I ain't sure. It just startled me." She clicks her tongue a bit before se gives a shake of her head, lips curling into a pout. "She retired. Shardin' retired, it ain't a fit."

While Dtirae's eyes close, Th'ero can relax his control and his features fall of a heavy frown that borders on a scowl that's directed not at the younger goldrider, but at the senior knot lying on the desk between them. Sensing that she's not about to bolt on him, the Weyrleader moves away from the door and with quiet steps, approaches the desk. "Startled the whole Weyr is what's it's done." He mutters and then does scowl for the pout Dtirae pulls. "And your acting Senior. No escaping that." He points out a touch harshly and knows it. Because his next words are in a slightly gentler voice, "I'd have preferred if she had warned us…. I hadn't a clue she was feeling strained or disrespected. But what's done is done. And sadly, it means you have a Weyr to face and reassure." Th'ero also knows he's playing a dangerous game in being so brutal with his opinions and perhaps the truth of the matter. Sugar coating has never been his forte and he's not about to start now.

Dtirae doesn't open her eyes for a long moment, though when there is movement, she tenses and is soon staring at him. Fingers clench tightly and she stares at him with wide eyes, as if he's going to come and attack her for what happened. Especially with the harsh tone he takes. "There was no warning. How would we know that they ain't listenin' ta her?" There's a sound of frustration, lips pressing into a thin line as she sits a little straighter and looks a little more like a predator cornered. Especially with the explanation dumped on her. "I can't reassure them. Shit. I ain't the real Senior. I ain't goin' ta be."

Th'ero almost recoils from Dtirae's reaction, sensing the shift and being taken completely aback by it. But Turns of reigning in his temper and emotions have him keeping a level head and neutral expression. Taking a small step back, the Weyrleader puts some distance between himself and the young goldrider again. "Aye, you do have a point there. I think I'll be hunting down some folk today to get their insight. See if we do have some slackers among them. See why they saw fit to ignore orders." His tone is back to what is considered normal for him, low and murmured and without an edge to it. When Dtirae takes on a cornered look, Th'ero holds up a hand both defensively and to gesture for her to calm. "They'll need reassurance regardless if you are or are not the real Senior. Gossip turns ugly fast. You know that. Give them the truth or the gist of it and then they should settle." There's a slight frown then from him and Th'ero is eyeing the knot on the desk again, before his attentions flick back to the goldrider. "If you don't, I will then. But understand I cannot keep doing this alone." Perhaps there is some sympathy in there, somewhere. Sympathy and a mild understanding and the offer remain there for her to take it or shove it back at him.

It is more than likely that the sudden turn of events that have her reacting so visibly, violently, and all sorts of ways that isn't quite normal to the goldrider. A uneven breath is drawn in, shaking as she levels him with another wide-eyed look, staring. "You should have them flayed." That's just the fear talking, really. She continues to grow a little more tense before pushing out of her seat. The knot is taken again and shoved again into her pocket. But, it comes back out after a moment and she finally discards her own knot and switches it with the Senior knot, though she looks none too happy. Lips are pressing into a thin line once again and she pins him with a singular look. "Ain't goin' ta let you do it alone. For now. We'll get someone ta take it."

Th'ero's reaction is not normal, even for him. He's no more thrilled about the change in events than Dtirae is, but he's just holding it all in better. Later, when no one is looking, it'll all fall apart when there is no one to witness. The Weyrleader is silent as he quietly observes the young goldrider come to her senses. Not necessarily calm, but he doesn't seem to feel the need to be as bluntly rough with her. Her singular look is ignored for the most part, as his eyes are focused more on the Senior's knot now pinned to her shoulder. Whether or not he approves of it being there, it's hard to tell. His features remain fixed in a neutral frown. "For now, then." Th'ero agrees, lips twitching into a tense smirk. He's in no mood to argue further with her. There's much to be done and likely many headaches by the time the day is over. "Someone?" Now his attention focuses back on Dtirae and his gaze narrows a little. "Who? Elara? Or do you plan on going through the difficult task of finding a non-Fortian Queen whom Zuvaleyuth and the others will accept?"

Dtirae takes a breath, though she certainly doesn't look calm, not right away. But, it is starting to come slowly with the realization that it may be temporary. Even though it likely isn't considering the lack of golds in the Weyr. She twitches slightly at that smirk on his lip, giving him a blank stare in return before a slight smile plays on her lips. "You'll have to do what I say, you know." It's the teasing that allows her to settle into a more calm nature. "I don't know. We'll figure it out. We'll find someone that'll rise before Zuvaleyuth does… Maybe." And suddenly, she goes rigid. There's no warning, (well, there was plenty, but Dei was just taking advantage of the peace the proddiness gave her) as Zuvaleyuth is descending upon the Weyr in an explanation that may hint as to why the goldriders were all suddenly missing. Into the air she'll go, once Dei gets a reign on the gold to blood her kills properly. "Shit…"

Whether or not the teasing remark is appropriate for a time like this is hardly a focal point for Th'ero now. Where once it would annoy him, now it's more reassuring. That's more the Dtirae he remembers. Not the scared, cornered young woman who he faced moments before. "I do. But don't look too much into it. You may find I'm not easily swayed." The Weyrleader smirks again, but a little more relaxed this time and his tone just hinting at enough amusement that his comment could be brushed aside as nothing more then him teasing her back. Partially, at least. Not long after Dtirae goes rigid does Th'ero suddenly pale and now he's taking a step back from her, his face contorting into a mixture of conflicting emotions. Now everything clicks into place and he's inwardly cursing himself for not picking up the signs. "Go. You have to go." He practically growls at her, gesturing at the door as his eyes take on an unfocused look. The Weyrleader doesn't want to be here, not in the office as things take a sudden twist. If Dtirae proves too reluctant, he'll give her a few firm nudges to get her going and out to the chaos that awaits them both outside on the grounds.

'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.