Fort Weyr - Records Room

This windowless room is brightly illuminated with electric lights and glow baskets alike. Shelf upon shelf of books and hides, carefully catalogued, line this room. A few small desks are in the middle of the room, for studying, and the room boasts a pair of computer terminals for electronically archived research as well.

The Weyrwoman is settled in the record's room, hunched over a few records and taking notes on a piece of paper near by. There's a frown on the woman's face, clearly not liking the task, especially with the way her shoulders remain tense. Slowly, she's being weaned of her guide, being left to deal with more things on her own now that she's calmer. Not that there aren't certain things that put the woman on edge. Like meeting with Holders with their complaints and having to play nice. Though, there is much improvement compared to her time as a junior. The pen taps idly on the paper as she stares at the record, continuing to make notes on important things to cover and things to remember. Dtirae sighs after a moment and the pen goes down, her hand taking the other one and rubbing at it idly in attempts to be rid of the soreness.

At some point of the day, the temperatures went from cold to mild and most Fortians were making the most of it by venturing outside while the weather was so pleasant. That has changed now and a steady, chilly rain has rolled in and among those fleeing back to the warmth and dryness of the inner caverns is none other then Th'ero. He's still in his riding gear, now damp, as he comes striding at a brisk pace into the records room. The Weyrleader lingers by the doors, letting it close with a quiet click so as not to disturb those working inside. In one arm he carries a hidebound folder and from the frown on his features, he looks none to pleased to be down here. Smoothing back his hair with his free hand, he takes a moment to scan the room and it's not long before he spies Dtirae among the very few who linger here. So he of course approaches her, since by then the goldrider has set her pen down and Th'ero views it as an opportune time to slip in. "How long have you been down here?" he asks in a low voice, once he's within earshot and once again skipping the formalities with her. Aside from the frown that still lingers, the Weyrleader seems in a "good" mood. Stable, at least and not as withdrawn and aloof as he has been in the past.

Dtirae visibly tenses at the sound of Th'ero's voice, her hand clenching the other one tightly before she slowly turns her gaze towards the man. The goldrider stares at him with grey eyes focused for a long moment before she shrugs and considers the papers. "A few hours… I think. Taking notes. Apparently, I'm supposed to have meetings within the next few days." And for once, the goldrider is withdrawn and somewhat aloof. Even a little docile as she avoids meeting his gaze. Her hand continues to massage her writing one before finally releasing it and taking up her pen. Grey eyes remain focused on her notes as she lifts the pen and continues to add to them in silence.

Th'ero isn't oblivious to the fact Dtirae tenses at his presence and that instantly has him wary. So while she stares at him, he stares right back, the hidebound folder still tucked under his arm. When she shrugs, he blinks and drops his gaze to the desk. "Mhm. One downside to the winters, you'll find. Usually means more meetings." And being trapped indoors too. The Weyrleader senses something amiss with the young goldrider, but with only assumptions to guide him, he decides to tread carefully for once. "Mind if I sit for a moment?" he asks after a considerable pause, when she resumes her work.

Dtirae sighs softly, "Because winter is borin' and there's nothin' else ta do?" There's a soft grumble, discomfort obvious as she begins to tap at the paper once more. All notes are obviously forgotten as she makes ink spots along the page. "I hate winter." Another sigh and the woman continues to tap along the page, forming a pattern, unintentionally. Grey eyes remain off the Weyrleader for a long moment until he asks to sit. She focuses on him for along moment, wary once again before she shakes her head. "Do what you want." Pointedly, she looks away from him and back to her papers, though her notes are going no where in the way of progress. "Is there somethin' yer needin' me ta help with?"

"Well, there are things to do. But you've got to have the stomach and the spine to brave the weather for it." Th'ero points out as he shifts his weight a little from where he stands across from her. His riding gear is probably making him overly warm, now that's he's indoors. If he notices her blotching her work as she taps her pen along the page, the Weyrleader doesn't point it out. Instead he meets her eyes again when she focus on him, trying not to let his posture show too much tenseness. There's a nod given when she gives him her permission and reaches for one of the empty chairs to pull it out. The hidebound folder is set down on the desk, well within Dtirae's reach but not close enough to interfere with her work and it's left there to tempt the young goldrider. Th'ero busies himself with shrugging off his heavy riding jacket, slinging over the back of another chair before settling into the one he pulled out for himself. "Not help, really. So much as your opinion." He murmurs while gesturing with a flick of his hand towards the "gift" he brought. "This here is some notes and notes from the other Leaderships from the Northern and Eastern most Weyrs. High Reaches, Benden… Seeing if they had a few worthwhile Candidates left over. Western is in a double Search and I was discussing overlapping territories with Zi'on that day in the office. But, seeing as it's Zuvaleyuth's clutch, I need to know what you've in mind for Candidates. We sticking to Fortian stock or going broader?" There's a slight smirk given at the end of his long winded ramble as Th'ero lays it all out in one shot, hands coming to rest loosely in his lap. He'd look calm to those just drifting by or glancing casually. But he's watching Dtirae cautiously, on edge for any sign that the goldrider's mood is unfavorable.

Dtirae grunts softly, "They ain't got the stomach nor the spine. But, whatever. We gotta cater ta 'em and make sure they ain't worried over nothin'." The woman shrugs again, an idle movement that really has no care behind it. It may be for the best that the man doesn't point out her blotching up her paper, likely it would only cause her to grumble and be even more discontent in their current situation. But, the hidebound folder is put before her, just close enough for her to reach and to spark her curiosity, she's placing down the pen and reaching out for it. Curiosity wins out over all other feelings as she drags it her way and opens it up. "Opinion?" She questions, though says nothing more as she begins to flip through the notes. "This.." She resists the urge to finish that sentence, however, and returns to silence for a long moment. "We could use some broader prospects. At least a few. Takin' from only Fort may disgruntle the Holders who ain't too keen on losin' all their people. Especially when they still need people ta tend ta everything."

Wait, what? Th'ero's frown becomes a pointed look of confusion directed straight at Dtirae. "Who doesn't have the stomach or the spine?" he asks in a drawling tone, curious but uncertain. There's silence when she actually takes the folder, letting the young goldrider open it and look through unchallenged. The Weyrleader only nods his head vaguely when she seeks confirmation but again his frown and the confusion sets in when she doesn't finish her sentence. "This…?" he presses, gently but firm. The silence he allows to settle undisturbed, biting his tongue as he keeps his temper level and treads lightly. "I agree with that. But we have to be cautious that we do not overlap with Western's Searchriders. Or where any Weyr has been previously in the last few months. Benden has had a clutch not long ago and may be willing to give us their surplus of former Candidates. High Reaches may be another matter." He unfolds one of his hands long enough to gesture towards the folder again while she browses it. "Those are some names, as well as lists of Holds, major, minor and cot, that have been Searched to the north and east of our boundaries. I can do the work myself. But I figured I'd get your… opinion on it first."

There's no answer to his question, Dtirae only offers a shrug and no further clarification. There's a brief flicker of her gaze to her notes, as if that should answer his question before attention resettles on the notes the man has assembled for her. She flips to the next page, quiet and no answering his pressing for more of the sentence that she finishes. Lips instead press a little tighter, keeping it all to herself for a long moment. When he responds to her statement, she nods. "Not sayin' we need a whole bunch. Gotta leave some for Western, obviously. We only got one, they got… Two. 'bout… Twenty ta twenty five if they're lucky. We'll have 'bout ten. Maybe less." The woman offers idly, keeping her gaze on the hides. "We'll as Benden. Not High Reaches. Can't ask a lot from 'em. Askin' em both may be overkill. But, maybe see if they're needin assistance in another way in case we do need 'em for the next clutch. Offerin' some minor assistance is a good way ta reestablish that we still want ta maintain a good relationship." Shen then looks up and meets his gaze. "Maybe avoid the ones that've been Searched from b'fore for this clutch." She goes silent again, carefully closing the folder. "Thanks for gettin' my opnion. Yer more than free ta leave me out of it, though, right? 'Cause that's more of the thing that the Weyrleader oversees? Not… That 'm sayin' ta leave me out."

Th'ero's expression falls when Dtirae's answer to his question is only a shrug and silence. Normally he'd try again, but today he only takes a slow breath and keeps his mouth shut and fighting the urge to push the young goldrider further. "Western has plenty to Search from, since Zi'on says he'll stick primarily to the south. But I see your point." He murmurs, gaze dropping to follow her movements as she closes the folders. The moment she's done, he reaches for it and pulls it closer to his edge of the table. "Mhm. I agree on the chance to reestablish or maintain relationships. Wise choice." Th'ero points out in a low tone, though he doesn't meet Dtirae's eyes when he speaks. It's only when she points out the obvious that he looks up and a vague of smile quirks one side of his mouth ever-so slightly upwards. "I suppose it is." He drawls slowly. He's been caught! And he's not bothering hiding that fact. So he exhales a little heavily and lifts a hand to scrub at his lower jaw. "Just figured you'd want some say… since this is Zuvaleyuth's first." Then he snorts softly and his hand drops back to his lap. "Guess I'll drop the business act then. How are you?" There. He said it — even if it's a little rushed and awkward.

"Hmm. Okay. So, we'll be avoidin' the South." There's no hesitation is helping slide the folder over in his direction, settling back once he has it in place, her arms folding neatly across her chest while grey eyes focus on him, searching for deeper answers in his body language. Whether or not she picks up anything remains hidden from her expression and actions. Her head tilts just a bit and a smile is given for the small praise given. "Best ta maintain good relationships." It's the truth, and nothing more than that. But, the look he gives her, the smile has her brows lifting and a skeptical look crossing her face as he relents to her questions. The fact that he was beating around the bush. A slight frown tugs at her brows and the corner of her lips just for a moment. The next excuse doesn't get the same look of surprise, but there's disbelief lingering in her gaze until the truth comes out at least and he asks what's really on his mind. Her lips twitch downwards. "Oh, I'm just lovely. I love getting' teared inta by a rider who isn't even from our damn Weyr. And I just love that 'm feelin' guilty already and tryin' ta pick up the pieces of my damn mess, only ta have her throw it in my face again. Not ta mention havin' it said that sex with me results in violence and humiliation for Fort. That particular part makes me feel all warm and snuggly. Can't do /shit/ ta defend myself, either, because I ain't riskin' playin' inta her shit to make Fort look worse. That just makes everything wonderful."

It's hard to say if Dtirae will find any deeper answers hidden away in Th'ero's posture or expression. He's had Turns of experience in hiding his motives and burying it all away under a mask of blank neutrality or a frown or displeased look. But the vague smile remains, even when the young goldrider becomes skeptical. And by the time she's done her blunt and truthful response, the Weyrleader looks truly regretful he ever asked. "She didn't mean half of what she said." Which is a lie, but Th'ero has bristled a little and it's the first words that come to mind as he tries to defend the bluerider's actions. "Not that excuses what she said or give her the right to tear into you." He shifts a little in his seat then, tensed and on edge, hands weaving together tightly rather then loose and relaxed in his lap as he sits up straight. His eyes never leave Dtirae either, watching her carefully under a heavy frown. "And you /can/ defend yourself. You're within your rights to do so. You said so yourself. You can have her apologize. Shards, you can order me to make her apologize if you wanted." Th'ero has to stop there for a moment, silent as he closes his eyes, mouth drawn to a thin line as he bites back his temper. It had started to creep back into his tone, but he's wise to the warnings now. He snorts, "I'm sorry you got hurt, Dtirae. But you can't have expected everyone to take your actions lightly. Same goes for myself. If I blunder, I expect backlash. Unfortunate side effect of power." He smirks then, but the humor is bitter and sour.

Dtirae doesn't say anything when he defends the bluerider, offering a slight shrug and then turning her gaze away from him. She looks fully ready to begin working again without touching the subject any further. Pen goes to paper again, though writing does not resume. The ink bleeds into the page and her gaze flickers up to consider his face. "I'll just look bad for defendin' my actions ta her. She doesn't want that. I fucked up and defendin' it means I think I did the right thing and everyone else in the wrong. It ain't how I feel, so I left." Lips press into a thin line, "I ain't goin' ta order anyone to apologize ta me. That's just abuse of power and makin' me seem like I am just takin' advantage of my position. Apologies aren't somethin' you just demand." She doesn't respond to his anger and instead, scrawls some idle notes onto the page, lingering in silence for a long moment. "I ain't expectin' everyone ta take my actions lightly. I'd like ta have my tryin' ta fix it acknowledged and not bein' dismissed as someone who will continue to make the same mistakes. She went too far ta say that my sex is like that. Ta say that it's always going to be that way. Ta say that I'm always going ta humiliate Fort…"

Th'ero doesn't say anything when Dtirae breaks eye contact with him or turns back to her work. If it brings on awkward silence, then the Weyrleader lets it go on and uses the time to try and keep his temper calm and his thoughts level. So while the young goldrider speaks, he listens with what could be considered polite respect, even though his frown grows heavier and conflict flickers in his eyes. He jaw tenses too, another incident of having to bite his tongue and keep the sarcasm at bay. "She was out of line with what she said. So you were well within your rights to defend yourself and give her the truth of the matter. Your side and you've told me enough now that you know what you did is wrong. Perhaps that's all she had to hear from you." At the mention of not forcing the reply, Th'ero's mouth curves up into a smirk but he nods his head in an approving way for her response. A test? Maybe it was. It wouldn't be unlike the Weyrleader to throw a trap or two in. In the long silence that follows, Th'ero only remains patient and his gaze drifts to some far off point in the room, heavy frown still knitting his brows together. Even after Dtirae has finished speaking her part, the silence lingers as the bronzerider struggles inwardly with what he wants to say and what he knows he should. Normally he'd go for sarcasm and blunt humor. Not now though, now he's being… friendly? "If it's any help to you, I did reprimand Kimmila for her behavior. Not the first time I've had to, likely not the last… but I agree that you shouldn't have been treated so. You won't humiliate Fort. You're young, yes. And you did something foolish. But everyone does. We're all faulty in one-way or another. And you've learned and your improving. She'll come around eventually."

Dtirae listens to him, the pen stilling on the page and again causing the expected bleed into the paper. Her frown settles in deeper before grey eyes flicker upwards once again to consider him. "I ain't ready ta face her. I need ta face her with somethin' unwavering, not when 'm 'bout to break down cryin' or some shit like that." The approval that is crossing into his features brings a pause, surprise flickering into her own expression and confusion settles in shortly after. Her gaze drops and she says nothing while the silence lingers between them. Either she's trying to figure out the motives from the man, the meaning behind everything, or she's thinking about the paper she's supposed to be taking notes on. The fact that he reprimanded his girlfriend doesn't bring a smile to her lips, instead, she just give him a leveled look, calculated for a long moment before she nods. "Thanks. If you think she'll come around, maybe she will."

Funny how such simple words can crack Th'ero so swiftly and guilt races across his features before he can grasp it and wrestle it under control. The damage is done though and the Weyrleader only sighs, "Shards." He mutters under his breath. "I didn't know her words had cut so deep." What did he expect? That Dtirae would just brush them off like it was nothing? Clearly, he knows nothing and has much to learn. He dips his head then, but doesn't quite smile. Despite his neutral expression, he looks troubled. "She will." Th'ero says without hesitation, eyes darting up to meet the young goldrider's steadily. "For now though you'll just have to take my word and apology." Sensing then that he's perhaps overstayed his welcome, Th'ero reaches for the hidebound folder, placing one of his hands on it as he slowly rises to his feet. "I'll leave you to your work then. I've distracted you long enough it seems."

Dtirae misses that look of guilt, or, she simply chooses to ignore it rather than playing on it and making the man feel worse. Fingers tighten around the pen and she gives him a single look, watching the mixture of expressions on his face but not pointing them out or even saying anything more than that. "Thank you for the apology." She smiles, finally, at little more at ease now that they have spoken. "Thanks, Th'ero. Yer free ta distract me whenever." She offers, lifting a hand and waving once before she's focusing fully on her task once again.

Th'ero holds his gaze to Dtirae for the duration of their final exchange and when she accepts his apology and then offers her thanks, the Weyrleader dips his head in a polite nod and another brief, vague smile slips across his features. "I'll try to find something more interesting next time then. Perhaps a tougher puzzle to solve then Search territories." And awkward discussions and apologies but that he leaves unsaid. Turning, he gathers his riding jacket and tucks the folder under his arm. "Be sure to take a break sometime today." He adds, lifting his free hand in a brief wave in return before he's striding away and silently slipping back through the doors.

'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.