Fort Weyr - Weyrleaders' Offices
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.

Though it's hard to tell if Kayeth is glowing or not, given the natural hues of her hide, Nyalle has certainly been acting a bit strange. Take today. She had her meeting with her Juniors as usual, and then took her tea and went out on a walk around the bowl, talking and giggling. Now she's finally back in her office with another cup of tea, dressed in loose pants, comfortable shoes, and a baggy sweater. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she lounges back in her seat with her feet up on the desk, flipping through hides and humming to herself.

It's a wonder she didn't have a small following of bronzeriders (or a certain bronzerider… who is likely being grilled by his Wingleader at the moment) following her back. One bronzerider is climbing the stairs to the administration complex though and turning into the council chambers. The Weyrleader is not in a giggling mood. He's far from a happy one and as he knocks at the door of Nyalle's office, he's still struggling to keep his composure. Steady, steady. Last time he lost control, he all but made the Weyrwoman cry. He's not about to make the same mistake twice. "Weyrwoman Nyalle? May I have a word with you?" he calls and then if the door isn't locked, he'll open it and slip through. He's about to just get right to the point, but he hesitates. She's wearing pants? And a sweater. And humming. Has he ever heard her hum before? Shells, has he ever seen her relaxed? "Ah… I'm sorry to bother you, but we were able to speak with the drudge. The accused one, that Wingleader Abigail caught. I came to report what we've learned directly to you… if you've the time?"

Nyalle sits up when Th'ero knocks and enters, and then she stands with a wide smile. "Th'ero! Please, come in, have a seat! Tea? I can send for some ale, I know how much you like it. Food, perhaps? Do come in." She pauses, hovering beside her desk on the balls of her feet. "The…drudge? The one..oh! Yes, yes, I have the report here somewhere. What did he say? Did he apologize?" As if that'd magically fix everything, right? She flashes Th'ero a sunny smile.

Tea? Ale? Food? While being hostess sounds like Nyalle, Th'ero is peering at her closely. She's in a good mood. Which is never a bad thing, that he is pleased to see (and feeling guilty that he's about to crash it). It's how open the Weyrwoman is that he finally determines is off about her. Yet, isn't this what he was wanting to see in her? "No, I'm fine, thank you." he says as he takes those few slow steps it takes before he can settle himself in one of the empty chairs. He doesn't return her sunny smile and only stares at her blankly. "No, he did not apologize. He wouldn't speak to us at first and then Rayathess showed up with Ezra and Mr'az. Why, I do not know… Wingleader Abigail is speaking with Mr'az right now." Bad bronzerider is in trouble! Th'ero grimaces, ready for Nyalle to be upset or disappointed, given he's well aware of how the Weyrwoman feels towards the bronzerider.

Nyalle sighs, but it's a light hearted one. And accompanied by a light laugh. "Oh, Mr'az. He gets these things in his head, you know. Ideas. Things he thinks are a good idea until he actually /does/ them. He's a man, sometimes they don't think things through. You know what that's like." If it were anyone else, it might be an insult, but it's Nyalle and so lightly, so happily said as she twirls a hand and settles into her chair again, reaching for her tea cup. Mmm. Tea. "I like Abigail. She's a sweet, sweet girl."

Th'ero's hardly in a lighthearted mood and he's the bearer of bad news. Only… Nyalle takes Mr'az's lack of common sense in such casual stride that for a moment he's floored and too shocked to even raise a single word in protest. So shocked, in fact, that he replies to her instead. "I know but regardless, Rayathess shouldn't have been transported in the condition he is in. Though I suppose the Healers must've cleared him or we'd have heard from them by now if their patient just up and vanished without their authorization." he mutters, nodding his head in agreement to her compliments regarding Abigail. Only then does he realize how wrong all of this is and WHY he came here in the first place. "Weyrwoman… There's a matter of importance I have to discuss with you. Concerning what Hazelon has shared with us. It's worse than we predicted." he begins, his level tone and stoicalness a painful and sharp contrast to her light and happiness. It takes a moment to sink in, but as Th'ero watches her a little more closely, something begins to click and then he sits tensely in his chair. "Nyalle… Is Kayeth near her time to rise?" Short form: Woman, is your gold proddy?

Nyalle shrugs, her tone dismissive. "Well he made it, didn't he? No harm done in the end." No, she doesn't realize the gravity of the situation, turning to watch a spinner moving on the wall. Her gaze is intent on it, focused and /staring/ for a moment until she pulls herself away. "Hmm? What's worse?" There's a slow blink as she watches him, and then she giggles. "Shards if I know. Maybe? I can't ever predict her. Always comes as a surprise." Always. Her queen has only ever risen twice.

Th'ero is rendered speechless again by Nyalle's dismissive tone and when she focuses on the spinner (which he has to restrain himself from getting up to kill it… as satisfying as crushing something would be right now), he grits his teeth and takes a moment to gather himself and his composure. Don't loose it! Yet he almost does when she swears and seemingly brushes it off again. "Nyalle… this is something you should be aware of. The other goldriders will need to know, so they can be prepared to leave should Kayeth rise. This isn't like you." Time for some blunt truth! He frowns, letting some of his displeasure show through. "You're not behaving like yourself. So could you please just focus for a moment and take what I have to say seriously? The Weyr could be facing some troubling times and we have the Weyr Games looming soon!" he states in a firm and serious tone, levelling her with a look. He's not kidding around and he doesn't want her to take it lightly either.

Too bad. Nyalle giggles softly, leaning back and putting her feet on the desk again. "Oh, I'll send them away in time," she reassures him. "Another few days…maybe another sevenday. Give them a vacation, they've earned it. Except Jajen. But she'll go anyway…" She smiles sweetly at him. "You have great hair." Pause. "Oh, I'm sure the weyr games will go just /fine/. Look, everything is ready!" She taps the folder on her desk. "See? We're ready, so let the games begin!" There's a pause, and then she laughs.

Th'ero's brow quirks up as she puts her feet on her desk and then he frowns, still disapproving and unsettled by her behaviour. "If you're so sure…" He can't really question her or he doesn't want to. The Weyrleader really dislikes being at odds with Nyalle and in any other moment he'd have found this amusing and a welcome change (even if temporary, since she's proddy). Not now though. He needs her to be focused and grounded and she's not listening. "Uh…" What? Now with the compliments? Th'ero's not in the mood, so he just scowls at her, only to blink and look at the folder. "That's not what I meant…" But she's laughing again and his temper flares, snapping his control and he's lurching from the chair to slam his hands down on the edge of the desk as he looms over it and stares at her with narrowed eyes. His anger is obvious, both in his eyes and in the way his jaw sets and the heaviness to his accent. "Nyalle, listen to me! Snap out of it and focus!" he snaps at her, voice low and growled. Rarely does he shout, but this is almost as bad. "We've a problem with renegades! Hazelon claims the men responsible for attacking Rayathess were part of a band of renegades. Don't you see what this means?"

Nyalle startles when he lurches to his feet and slams his hands on the desk. "Goodness!" she says, a hand going to her chest. There's a long pause. "We're…going to have more entries for archery?" She giggles, then shakes her head firmly, /frowning/. "Wait. No. That's not it. What?"

Good! That got her attention. Th'ero keeps his position the same, still leaning heavily forwards with his hands splayed across the surface and his eyes fixed on Nyalle. His brows lift and again he can say nothing save to stare at her for her giggling and outlandish remarks. "Nyalle, if I didn't know better I'd swear you were drunk right now…" he mutters and yet he cannot be furious with her. He's angry for sure and frustrated, but her proddy state isn't something she can help. If Kayeth is going to choose NOW to be the time to rise, well… Th'ero's just going to have to suck it up and be a man about it. A very broody and grouchy one. "Hazelon may be innocent in this… at least with the charges of attempted murder. But we have renegades, Nyalle. Somewhere. And the Weyr Games soon. Folk will be traveling…"

Nyalle is clearly struggling with herself, within her own mind. "Get her to sleep," she hisses, shaking her head firmly. "If she sleeps…" It's easier. Much easier. That's all she says right now. It's really all she /can/ say.

Th'ero eases back, frowning heavily at her and holding her under his gaze for several long seconds before he snorts and looks away. His head tilts a bit and its obvious then that he's conversing with Velokraeth. Moments later, the pale bronze is calling on Kayeth and seeing if the fiery gold will accept his company. If she does, he'll join her and immediately ply his tricks to try and lull and sooth her. Likely with A LOT of flattery and truthful at that as he preens her or nuzzles her, depending on her mood. Back in the office, Th'ero will reclaim his seat and wait, arms folded across his chest as he broods in his grim, quiet way.

On her ledge, Kayeth welcomes Velokraeth's company, as she almost always does. Accepts it and basks in it, as her rider slouches in her chair and closes her eyes. And between the two of them - this unlikely pairing of Nyalle and Velokraeth - Kayeth eventually drifts into an easy, relaxed slumber. In her office, Nyalle opens her eyes, looksa round, looks down at herself, and blushes, visibly shrinking. "I'm sorry…" she whispers

Velokraeth will stay with Kayeth, even as the gold slumbers, dozing a little himself and quite smugly at that. He's still got it! Th'ero's shoulders lose a bit of their tension when Nyalle's behaviour changes so rapidly and drastically, until she begins to blush and visibly shrink in her chair. Sigh. There's the Weyrwoman he's so familiar with. "Don't apologize, Nyalle. Kayeth is approaching her time, isn't she?" He asked that already, but now she's more in her right mind and so he asks again. He smirks, "It's not your fault. It was just… unexpected." Which is his version of an apology for loosing his temper on her. Again.

Nyalle rubs her hands over her face and abruptly puts her feet on the floor, grabbing her tea mug, dipping her head down. "I guess she is," she murmurs. "I didn't even notice…" It's only the third time, she's not perfect yet. "So. What…I'm afraid I don't remember what we talked about. What's going on? You spoke with Hazelon?"

"Her influence is strong on you?" Th'ero asks and his voice is surprisingly gentle and quiet, as if he's aware that what he may be inquiring about is a rather private matter. Could be too that the Weyrleader is remembering that fact too, that Nyalle is young and so is Kayeth and neither of them have Turns of experience under their belts. Maybe talking about it will help? Or it'll just lead into so much awkward. He takes a slow breath when she seems to have forgotten their discussion (if there ever was one) and exhales, his temper calmed but his frustration lingering. "We did and what he's told us is troubling. Seems the ones responsible are leftover ragtag from Laris' bands but have gone renegade now. They recognized the older Stonehaven and have some sort of grudge against him. Not surprising. Turncloaks and traitors rarely escape that…" He waves a hand dismissively and grimaces. "Hazelon claims he was firing at the Renegades and killed one. Possibly two. But he got swept up into their band. Says their leader is just as bad as Laris, if not worse. Smarter. Not some crazed holdless, but a true born renegade."

Nyalle nods, "Very," she whispers, embarrassed by it. But now isn't the time to discuss her flight troubles. No, she has to force herself to /focus/, and as she does…she looks alarmed. "Do we know where they are? We have to find them, we can't just let renegades run loose in the forests. Not with the Games coming up!"

Now is not the time, but Th'ero might be considering sending a little note to Elara, by the off chance that the experienced goldrider may be able to talk to Nyalle and give her some advice. Advice over tea? Sounds lovely, doesn't it? Only the Weyrleader's mind is on far less pleasant things. His thoughts are on renegades and darker paths. With Nyalle grasping the severity of the situation, he almost sighs with relief. Finally! "Believe me, I am concerned over just the same! We don't know. Hazelon was being difficult in some ways with being straightforwards with the information. I only have a name. Ustrr. Perhaps I'll speak with Abigail, see if she can mark on a map roughly where she found Hazelon and we can try to focus our search there." It's a start, at least?

Nyalle frowns, quickly picking up a stylus and jotting things down. "I can send the name to the Harper Hall and see if it's in their records anywhere. If we can find a history, or even a description. I wonder what he wants. You think he was connected with the attack on Rayathess? Was he trying to stop his project perhaps? Was Ustrr a member of Laris' gang?"

"He's definitely connected to the attack on Rayathess. Hazelon said it was his men who shot at him. Claimed they recognized him and had some long standing grudge. Wanted his runner too. This… girl, Lyreh tried to stop them. Hazelon apparently killed one of the men…" Th'ero explains quietly as he leans back a little in his chair. NOW Nyalle is more of the Weyrwoman he's come to know over the Turns. This is what he came here for. To plan, to move ahead. To not focus on the troubling, dark thoughts lurking in the back of his mind. "Don't think it has anything to do with this project the Stonehaven had. Not sure about Ustrr's relations or past. Hopefully your query to Harper Hall yields answers. Maybe they'll put Rayathess to work on it. Seems fit." And ironic.

Nyalle nods, "That's an idea, if he can travel to the Hall to do it." She continues to write for a moment, frowning. "So Hazelon's name is cleared?" she asks, looking up at the Weyrleader.

Th'ero snorts. "He's already here in the Weyr and if I can survive being hauled onto a dragon and Betweened, a short trip to the Hall won't likely hurt him." Though from the scowl on his face, the Weyrleader doubts that the older Stonehaven is in very good health at the moment. He certainly didn't look well at the end. "Which reminds me… I need to speak to Mr'az once Abigail is done tearing into him." Uh oh? He shakes his head, "That depends. I don't see reason to convict him, let alone to keep him in that cell. Do you? Only problem is is that I fear if we let him go now, he'll just slip away and fade. We've got to think of a way to keep him here… more for his benefit than ours." Sure. Never mind that Hazelon has information Th'ero wants.

Nyalle gives Th'ero a slightly blank look. This intrigue, this game…she is not good at. "What does he want?" she asks carefully, as if afraid it's a dumb question to be asking. "If he is innocent, then I see no reason to keep him in that cell, no."

Apparently, Nyalle asked the right questions. Th'ero just smiles faintly, "That's what we'll have to figure out. Though I doubt he'll speak with me or Kimmila. He seemed to be relaxed around Abigail, so perhaps if we met with her briefly and explained what we need of him or what we've determined… she can get through to him." The Weyrleader can then focus on other things. Namely, search grids. He has renegades to hunt, though he'll find it increasingly difficult to talk Velokraeth into flying far from the Weyr if Kayeth continues to show signs of proddiness. "I agree. We shouldn't keep him in there if he is innocent. I just don't want him to disappear on us either."

Nyalle nods. "Abigail, then. If that's who he'll speak with, then might as well task her with that. Perhaps we secure his terms before he's released? We…just have to risk him running I guess>"

Th'ero mulls this over and is quiet as he does, his gaze lowered and staring at the surface of her desk. When he comes to an agreement, he nods his head slowly. "Seems the best way to do it." he murmurs, then looks up at Nyalle as a thought occurs to him. "What if we offered him a private room? One of the smaller ones in the quieter tunnels? As we did Ezra and Rayathess back in the day. Maybe he'd be less inclined to run if he had a… sort of safe haven?" Which is really sad, when one thinks of it, but it's the only thing the Weyrleader can think of that may be tempting to one in Hazelon's position if given an offer to stay in the Weyr.

Nyalle looks a bit surprised, and then she looks thoughtful. "I'm sure that can be arranged. We have plenty of rooms. Little ones. I'm sure we can find one for him in a quiet tunnel."

Th'ero tilts his head at her surprise and instantly he asks, "Why does it surprise you? Do you think it unwise?" She's agreeing with him then and he nods his head, his expression still dark and troubled but no where near as tense as it was. "I'll leave you to speak to the Headwoman and Steward about it?"

Nyalle shakes her head quickly. "No, I don't think it is unwise. No. Just…it's such a simple thing." To think that could be /offered/…that it's not a /given/ right…it surprises her, and surprises her that it surprises her. She knows how the drudges live. In their dorms. Comfortable, yes, but no place to call /theirs/. "I will see to it quickly," she promises, "and I will keep the key with me."

Th'ero frowns, not quite understanding. "A simple thing? How is that?" he asks, only to have it dawn on him a second later and he grunts. "Of course. He was a drudge before. A room to himself would be…" Unheard of? "Good. I believe that is the most we can do for now. I'd best be getting to those reports. Harper Hall and Fort Hold may be wanting to question Hazelon, though I am beginning to wonder if that is necessary at all." he murmurs as he begins to stand. "If they send representatives, would you meet with them and I in the council room…" He pauses for a moment, remembering the state he found her in and he gives her a level look. "… if you are feeling well for it?" As in, NOT being in the throws of Kayeth's proddiness. Th'ero does not seem to mind in the least if he has to tell a white lie about the Weyrwoman feeling "under the weather".

Nyalle gets to her feet as he does, setting her tea down, her eyes unfocusing briefly. "We will make sure he has a room of his own," she promises quietly. "Clear skies to you, Weyrleader. Please let me know how else I can help and just remember…it's best if Velokraeth gets Kayeth to slumber before you call on me." She blushes, but at least she recognizes it.

"Clear skies to you, Weyrwoman." Th'ero dips his head respectfully to Nyalle as he steps towards the door, his hand staying on the handle as he gives her another long look. One that shifts, eventually, into a thoughtful look. He smirks, "I'll try to remember and Velokraeth will likely have no objections. I cannot always be here and may need to leave with Velokraeth. Can Zhirazoth not do the same?" he drawls, opening the door and pausing long enough to give her a respectful nod of farewell and a quietly murmured. "I'll let you know if you're needed." For the meetings and for… anything. Th'ero slips away then, letting the door click shut behind him as he strides away at a brisk pace. He has A LOT to do and very little time to do it.