Fort Weyr - Storage Rooms
This room is filled with shelves, crates and boxes of dried goods, material, and other necessities of weyr life. The shelves are kept neat and tidy at all times and the floor has been swept clean recently. Occasionally a candidate or fosterling can be found in here cleaning and tidying, or checking for signs of tunnel snake or other pest infestations.


Time enough has passed since Hazelon has been set free by the weyrleader. Eyes which had watched him so carefully that first space of time have slowly, peeled away and become less watchful. For this the ex-drudge is grateful. It has allowed him to slip more or less back into passivity and slide under the radar. Now, with Winter's heaviness in full swing Hazelon has decided to use this neglect for his benefit. Down into the stores he has slipped, looking for a particular kind of glue. He has found a stepstool and looks through the contents of a basket.

Time has passed and Rayathess has mended further. His wounds have long since healed and he moves with only a bit of a stiffness and limp to his injured leg, but his strength is back. He's not been idle either, with Harper Hall putting him to work to make up for the loss of time in his studies and classes, as well as aiding in researching into this 'Ustrr' or any reports of suspicious activity. It's very dull work, but what else is he to do? Why, wander the Weyr, of course! He decided a break was in order and since winter is upon them, he's settled for walking the inside corridors and on this day, his path takes him to the store room. Seeing it occupied, his curiosity has him stepping to the doorway and when his eyes catch Hazelon, he snorts softly. "Hey." he greets.

Hazelon startles when someone breaks the silence of the stores. He suppresses the inward urge to flinch and yank his hand back from that basket. No. He wasn't doing anything particularly wrong at the moment. No. His hand falls upon the pot which he had been searching for and pulls it out as his eyes seek out the caller. When it is identified as Rayathess a very pronounced scowl settles over his features. There was no need to pretend to be invisible. Rayathess would never believe it. So he doesn't call out a greeting, but instead purposefully turns away to tuck the glue under an arm and set the basket to rights.

So he's going to play that game, again? Rayathess isn't surprised in the least but he doesn't storm off back down the tunnels, cursing Hazelon's name. Oh, he's cursing, but he'll do it inwardly for now and just lean against the doorframe. Not casually, though he tries to make it seem that way. It's so he can shift weight off his bad leg. "Not going to talk, huh? Should I save my breath then and not inquire on your well being? I heard that you got your own room here in the Weyr… So no return to drudgery?" He doesn't say that in a mocking way and in actual genuine interest. Rayathess had tried to convince Hazelon to look beyond being a drudge before.

Silence as an alternative to violence is ALWAYS an option- well, always an option when you're not likely to get killed or injured for silence. That basket is set to rights quickly enough and Hazelon shoves it back in to place before stepping down from that footstool. "Aye. That fool weyrleader you got is lookin' to try to be gettin' me to help him." Hazelon gathers up the stepstool and after folding it carries it back over to a corner to be settled where it had been found.

Rayathess just stays where he is, unmoving to either help Hazelon or step further into the storage room. No need to and he's comfortable where he stands. He frowns, "Th'ero is no fool and you'd be wise not to consider him as such." he says in a lowered tone, eyeing the teen. Maybe thinking he is the fool? That is certainly implied, though Rayathess doesn't say a word more on it. "And? Will you?"

No help needed thanks. "He's lookin' to be goin' after Ustrr's folk. There ain't no one more foolish then that." This is said with hints of scorn in it. Hazelon steps forward, keeping a watch on where Rayathess stands blocking the doorway to out. "No. I ain't a fool."

"Or… he's doing what a Weyrleader ought to do when there's renegades on his territory? Ustrr is a threat," Rayathess drawls. No, really? He scoffs at Hazelon's hint of scorn, shaking his head not long after. The doorway isn't blocked and the teen could pass through without issue. Only there WILL be an issue, because Rayathess will likely follow Hazelon on out, whether or not he wants to. Blinking, he scowls and sounds utterly confused and at a loss by Hazelon's answer. "No? …" He IS a fool! Rayathess has to bite his tongue and take a moment to control himself. "… don't you want to see Ustrr and his men caught?"

"I don't sharding care what is happenin' to Ustrr, just so long as I ain't gonna have to be seein' him ever again." There is utter cool in Hazelon's voice as he fixes his dark eyes onto Rayathess. No anger, no heat just utter calculation. A few steps forward as Hazelon eyes that doorway again. "I got myself to be lookin' after."

Rayathess can't help it, he has to scoff and laugh a bit at Hazelon's reply, his expression one of disbelief. "So you plan on staying locked up in the Weyr then? You and I both know you'd be risking your neck every time you dared to go out on the trails around here. Ustrr is dangerous, just as Laris was. The Weyrleader isn't going to rest until he's found. He's going to ask you again, Hazelon…" And does the teen really want to tell Th'ero 'no'? With that reason as his only reason? Rayathess moves from the doorframe, but not to block Hazelon. He's shifting his weight in preparations to walk after the teen, though he barely manages to keep from grimacing in discomfort as he knee doesn't quite bend as easily as it should.

Something in that laughter strains at Hazelon's iron control over his emotions. "No. I'm lookin' to be leavin' to be findin' if any place still be sane. Just as soon as the winter clears out." There's more then a slight edge to the teen's voice. "Right now mayhap it's just askin' me to be lookin' at maps. Ain't gonna stay that way though. You got a tool, you use it, 'n that weyrleader of yours mayhap's a fool, but he ain't stupid." Grudging respect edges into Hazelon's voice.

Rayathess quirks a brow and levels Hazelon with a look. "And where do you think you'll go? Stonehaven? One of the Holds? Outside of Fort? With Ustrr and his men abroad? Once they catch wind of you being out of the Weyr's reach, they'll find a way to hunt you down. You know how it is… don't you?" he drawls, eyes narrowing a bit. Hazelon's not grown soft, has he? Though Rayathess should be one to talk… "That's all he asked of me," he points out with a grimace. "Point out on the maps where Laris' camps may be or where they were… and that was it. All I was trusted to do. Guess we're both tools for him to use…" Which may still irk Rayathess even to this day, but he only shrugs, waiting and watching to see if Hazelon moves on through the door. "You'd be a fool, Hazelon, not to help in this…" Rayathess decides to say it out loud regardless, but he adds in a lower voice. "… and I am sorry for what you had to go through. I didn't mean for you…" To be left behind. If Rayathess hadn't been felled by those arrows, he'd have tried to grab Hazelon and haul both their asses out of there.

"Didn't mean to be doin' what?" Hazelon's eyes narrow and he steps closer as the fine edge he has held onto his anger is only sharpened by the scorn he percieves in Rayathess' comments about Stonehaven. No, he'd find no refuge there. Just a reminder of what else Rayathess has cost him with his idiocy. "Didn't mean to be puttin' me in a position to be savin' your sorry a** or sorry for makin' it where I ain't got no choice but to be runnin' and hidin' for the rest of my life? I was f*king safe. Ustrr'd never need to be knowin' my name if you hadn't drug me into this with your talk of what you ain't able to give." Each word has the shorter teen drawing closer as he snaps off every single work that he has burried over the last few weeks.

Rayathess doesn't answer Hazelon at first because he's too focused on the sudden anger from the teen. He winces, guilt flickering in his eyes. "Both," he says without hesitation but he doesn't back away or back down from Hazelon, standing his ground with his back still turned to the doorframe. Frowning, he keeps his eyes level with Hazelon, his expression tense and grim. "It wasn't supposed to go like that!" he mutters. "Last thing I wanted was for you to be left behind… I didn't know that Lyreh was with those men and I realize now," Too late. "That some things are just best left alone. I see/ that and I'm trying to undo the damage…" Is that an apology? It's the start of one but as always, Rayathess has the //worst timing.

Hazelon isn't yet in a forgiving mood. Though the time has allowed a majority of the heat to cool down to embers, there is still deep seated resentment for the harper apprentice, and the fact that Hazelon knows that stepping out into the forest is dangerous. "There ain't no way to be puttin' this away. Ain't no one what knows me is trustin' me here. I could've made somethin'. Now…" He takes one last step forward, the hand at his side having curled into a fist as his words lower to a hiss.

Rayathess doesn't see Hazelon's hand curling into a fist, his eyes still level with the teen's and watching him warily. He takes a small step back as he approaches, placing himself right in the archway of the door and neither in or outside of the store rooms. "You can still make something of yourself! It's not too late. Folk here, they're good folk and they'll forgive. Not that there's anything TO forgive, in your case. Your name was cleared, Hazelon… You're the one holding to your condemnation as guilty and untrustworthy. I trusted you! I still do. My only regret is for you suffering for my lack of judgement." Again. Twice now. Rayathess can't hide from that truth anymore or hold on to that guilt. He speaks low now too, almost whispered though his words are firm and honest.

"Why ain't they lettin' me be havin' my arrows back?" Hazelon does manages to keep his voice low and more-or-less under control. Perhaps Rayathess' words strike a cord as that fist at his side relaxes, still curled but no longer stiff. "If you claim they'll be trustin' me, be explain' that."

Rayathess is silent and perhaps for too long. Why would they keep Hazelon from having his arrows back? He opens his mouth a bit, only to close it again and then shake his head, having no answer for him save for a muttered: "I don't know." He should have left it at that, left it alone and maybe walked away but Rayathess inhales slowly and speaks again as he exhales. "Maybe because you don't need arrows? What're you looking to do around here anyways? Have you made a choice?"

"I'm needin' them if I'm gonna be leavin." Hazelon's voice is flat as those dark eyes look upwards at Rayathess. A thought occurs to him and he scowls. "Which is why they ain't givin' 'em back." He mutters his under his breath as his hand tightens into a fist again. "I'm lookin' to be makin' what I'm needin'." His tone dares Rayathess to inquire further.

Rayathess just stares at Hazelon in silence for a few heartbeats before he's blinking and doing a poor job at masking his incredulousness to what the teen is telling him. "Are you mad?" he asks, sarcasm clear. "We just both agreed that Ustrr is out there… that you leaving would be a poor and stupid idea. They're not giving them back cause they've no reason to. You're not a hunter or a woodsman and letting you take them so you can leave? Come on, Hazelon. Even you know how that has to look!" Rayathess dared to do more than just inquire but not entirely on purpose.

See, Hazelon had almost let go of that anger. Almost. But the sarcasm tips him back over the edge and he's stepping forward, right into Rayathess personal space. "Ain't no madder then stayin' where Ustrr's knows I'm gonna be. Leastways if I'm leavin I can be changin' my name and findin' another way to be livin', 'cuz he sure as shards ain't gonna be lettin' me alone." Hazelon's scared, but he's covering it in bravado and bold words. He allows his own sarcasm to drip, "Aye. I'm knowin' how it's lookin'. That room, it ain't more then a glorified cell and attempt to be bribin' me."

Rayathess bristles when Hazelon steps into his personal space, his temper sparking and his jaw tightening as he struggles to keep from snapping at the teen. He won't back down though, his shoulders squaring as he draws himself up, a posture of defence… or challenge. "No renegade is crazed enough to attack a Weyr," he states flatly. "And you think by changing your name and heading out that they won't remember you? You've a better chance here! Get them to trust you and give you your arrows and forget about you. Not vanish again and raise their suspicions! You leave now and you'll be hunted again and nothing I tell them will keep them from hauling you back here!" He's growing agitated now in his struggle to make himself understood, his hands lifting to gesture in slicing and sweeping motions. Not threatening but they can be perceived as that given how close Hazelon is standing to him. Rayathess is clueless to the teen's fear, blinded by his own emotions and motives once again. When will he ever learn? "The room is a cell if you MAKE it that! They're testing you, just like they tested me…"

Hazelon's mind doesn't even give him a chance to think before acting. Ingrained self preservation takes over, and when those hands come flying towards him he's already moving. He ducks sweeping hand and rather than step back and escape (because they're in an enclosed room and what the heck good would that do?) steps forwards to punch the taller man in the stomach. No words, no eye contact, just pure physical reaction.

Rayathess's reflexes are just a fraction too slow. He catches Hazelon ducking, his body already instinctively tensing and preparing to drop and duck away, only his leg seizes just enough to throw him off. The punch connects with his stomach, knocking the wind and breath from him in a startled sort of grunt and exhaled gasp before he's doubling over, eyes flashing with pain and anger and confusion. He stumbles back a half step, but his instincts kick into fight, rather than flight, and even winded, he'll try to bring his arms up to defend himself but also ward Hazelon off. "… the fuck was that for…?" Rayathess gasps when he finally regains his breath, eyes hard and cold now with his anger and, perhaps, a hint of fear.

There's a chill in Hazelon's eyes now- as if that instinctive self-defense has broken something in the teen that he has fought to keep hidden under the layers of passivity. No hopeless desperation can be found, just single-minded purpose. "I proved myself for three turns. They know I ain't the one what shot at your sorry a**. I ain't stayin' where I ain't wanted and looked at like a f*king danger." The heat in his words only grows and rather then retreat away from Rayathess he'll advance eyes slicing through the defenses Rayathess has put up and looking to land a punch wherever an opening comes up.

Rayathess's jaw tenses and he's readying to protest again, only to be silenced both by Hazelon's advance on him. It forces him back, another small half step to bring them out into the tunnel but the space here is limited. Again, he goes to defend himself against the oncoming punch, but his shoulder is no better than his one leg. He's not supposed to be doing such "activities" quite yet and his body protests the use of muscles dormant since his injuries. What was suppose to be a move to deflect Hazelon's punch glances off instead and the teen's hand will connect, possibly satisfyingly (or not), with Rayathess' nose and cheek bone. A crunch, maybe the sound of something snapping and definitely damage done by the blood that flows not long after. Rayathess grunts again, a pained cry muffled and hissed between his teeth along with cussing bad enough to make a Seacrafter blush. He staggers back, shaking his head and lifting a hand to tentatively dab at the blood now sluggishly dripping down over his upper lip and seemingly transfixed by the sight of it on his fingertips. It lasts but a second and in the next, he's launching himself at Hazelon with a low growled noise borne of anger and frustration. He's not aiming to hurt the teen, not at all. His fists aren't raised, but his arms do lash out in an attempt to grab him by the shoulders or the arms or even cross his arm over his chest to throw him back against the wall and pin him there. "Damn you, Hazelon!" he snarls, his voice still low and a bit choked.

The wire Hazelon has been walking since waking up in the cell has been a thin one. Stuck between not being able to slip into a comfortable role and who he had to be in the forest has worn thin and now snapped. Perhaps if Rayathess had continued to step backwards after that punch Hazelon might have managed to get his hands back around that wire and reeled it in. But he's not. With the harper's blood on his knuckles and swearing ringing in his ears Hazelon doesn't have a chance at seizing self control. Rather he has to act. Cool calculation born of an overactive sense of self-preservation has taken over. He cannot prevent the harper from pinning him against the wall, but once there he can act. Raising a foot he aims to bring it down hard onto Rayathess' foot, on his injured leg.

Rayathess taps into old instincts and behaviours long since buried and yet not forgotten. It's been a long time since he's felt the range of emotions and drive that he has coursing through him now and when he successfully pins Hazelon to the wall. Part of his mind kicks into gear, a half of him that he wishes he could remove and cannot, as that half is as much a part of him now. Hazelon will recognize the change, in both the way his features shift and harden and the look to his eyes and a familiar one. He's reverted back into his persona of Setha and Setha has no issues with pummelling a youth like Hazelon into the ground if it serves to benefit him. Right now, self preservation has kicked in with a healthy dose of just pure payback. He's hurt and hurting and wants to do the same to Hazelon. It's primitive and barbaric, but that was life in the camps. Tough survived and the weak didn't or they were the lowest on the rungs. Setha-Rayathess' grip tightens on Hazelon, digging in cruelly if he can find enough purchase but before he can shift his weight and return a few "favours", the teen's next hit connects and hard enough to jar his hold as his leg twists and jerks away. Another oath and snarled and pained exclamation and Rayathess is snapped out of that colder persona and back to himself, the Harper and man he should be and usually is. His leg is aflame with pain, half healed as it is but Rayathess doesn't let Hazelon go even then and partly because he can't. It's begun to buckle at the knee, but he refuses to bend, clutching now more at the teen for balance than to keep him pinned. "Stop this!" he growls, glaring down at the teen, features twisted and bloodied and eyes still hardened with anger, but there's no masking the pain now that's filtering in. "Enough!" So he yields? It seems so.

Pure ice radiates from Hazelon. Anger, rage, fear, all of these are mixed but shoved under a face that doesn't let a single one of them drip out. His lips pressed into a thin line Hazelon is not about to answer. The rock behind him digs painfully into his shoulders as the harper keeps him pinned. Heel to foot has done what he had intended, so Hazelon is going to aim for that weak place again. He kicks out at the leg, while he also brings up his arm to try to knock away one of the hands holding him to the wall. If it happened to be the injured one too well… that would just be peachy.

Rayathess won't fall for the same trick twice and he's ready this time for Hazelon's kick, feeling the movement or sighting it before the teen can lash out. His body twists, the leg following though it brings a hiss of pain from his lips even when Hazelon's foot only manages to graze it. He will succeed in breaking Rayathess' hold on him, however, though the Harper is quick to try and grab him again, even if to curl his fingers into a handful of his tunic. Maybe that was his injured arm but Rayathess doesn't let on. He's grown tired of their scuffle and seeks to end it but not by his fists, no matter how tempting it is and how much his other side craves it. "I said enough!" he exclaims in a louder and firmer voice, glaring and teeth bared, other words threatening to follow but he bites his tongue. He won't let Hazelon go until the teen backs down and enforces that stalemate as he goes on the defensive. Until he's certain Hazelon won't go on the attack again or run off, Rayathess will hold him.

"Then f*king let me go." Hazelon's voice snaps out as he finally goes still under that grip. Rayathess' grip on his tunic has twisted the fabric around his neck tight enough to begin to cut off some of the teen's air supply. Thus he switches to capitulation- the least favored method of ending conflict (the first being flight, second fight.) The ice in his gaze doesn't melt one ouce as he looks up at the harper. The blood on Rayathess' face causes a small shoved away part of his mind to flashback to the last time Hazelon's actions had caused blood to flow.

"I'll let you go when I'm assured you won't take the cowards way out of this," Rayathess snaps back at him, careful to keep his voice from rising too loudly less they draw attention to themselves. So far, the tunnels have remained empty, but they are standing by the storage rooms. Someone is bound to come by eventually. He loosens his grip enough that the tunic isn't twisted so tight against Hazelon's throat but he keeps his hold there as he leans forwards, lowering his head just enough to be a little more at eye level to the teen. "Satisfied?" he drawls in a voice laced with sarcasm, lips drawn back in a grim line. "Are you a coward, Hazelon?" he asks, tone harsh and lowered. "You said you proved yourself for Turns? Prove yourself now and stop running from what scares you!"

"Cowards sharding live." Hazelon shoots back at the harper- not at all stung by the accusation that is thrown at him. The larger man has the advantage in this situtation and Hazelon realizes it. His posture is stiff against that wall as he meets Rayathess' gaze without flinching. "You don't have any idea who I am and what I'm scared of. You didn't see Ustrr. You didn't have to be the death of two men and then not feel a single ounce of regret. I should've f*kin' let them shoot you like I was thinkin'."

"Cowards do NOT live and you know that! Cowards can only keep running and hiding until they're caught," Rayathess fires back, his eyes narrowed and focused on Hazelon now. He'll use his height and added weight to his advantage, not so much to pin him down but as a bit of intimidation. Rayathess lets that final comment slide, even if it stings. "You think my hands are clean? That I haven't had to kill?" he mutters through his teeth, the blood still trickling slowly from his nose. "Then you're both a fool and a coward. You killed those men because they were renegades and they'd have killed you without a second thought, didn't you? Your hide or theirs." What is there to regret? "Prove to them that you're better than this! Or you'll never stop running."

Hazelon is anything but intimidated. Any fear he might have had for the old persona of Setha had bled away when he had seen the man peppered with arrows and presumably dead. Nevertheless he doesn't fight back. "Then I ain't ever gonna stop runnin. Ain't got no reason to be holding back. You know Ezra ain't never gonna let me go to Stonehaven, 'n mayhap being able to repair what my parents broke…was the only thing that was keepin' me here before. Might as well cut my losses and get he sharding f*ck out of here before Ustrr brings these walls down 'round all of you." The heat of his anger, the flight or flight response still burns under Hazelon's skin, and it takes all of his effort to keep from lashing out at the taller and stronger young man.

Rayathess scowls at him, "How do you know what my brother will say? Or did you just come to that answer yourself? Have you even talked to him or are you just taking the cowards route in that too?" He fires back at the teen, glaring at him and holding his gaze to his. When he mentions Ustrr coming to the Weyr, Rayathess can't help but laugh and it's a scornful one and sarcastic. "No one would dare take on the Weyr. Ustrr is nothing but a renegade. Even Laris with his numbers never dared. You're scared, Hazelon and about to run right into Ustrr's waiting arms rather than seeing that THIS is where you're safe! And if it's Stonehaven that you want to go, then prove to my brother and the others that you're stronger and better than some leftover holdless youth and drudge… Stay here, gain your footing and a reputation beyond the one you have… as I did."

"You keep throwin' that word like I'm suppose to be ashamed've what I am." Chill coats Hazelon's words as he refuses to rise to the scornful bait which Rayathess' tosses at his feet. No, the cool and calculated Hazelon has recovered from his momentarily lapse of control. "Be lettin' me go Rayathess. You 'n I, we're done. Ain't nothing you can be sayin' to be hurtin' me no more, and ain't nothin' I'll be doin' to be savin' your arse when you go off to be foolish again."

"You should be, because it's not a way to live when you're capable of so much more! Instead you choose to cower and hide and wallow in your fears and hurt and blindly charge out to your own end," Rayathess hisses in a harsh muttered voice, eyes flashing and then he blinks, scowling in a mixture of frustration and confusion. "Hurting you? I'm trying to help you!" He does let Hazelon go then, his hands drawing back and his arms with them. He'll hastily wipe some of the blood from under his nose too on his sleeve, grimacing and wincing a bit as he takes a small step back, his posture still tense and wary. "Yeah, I know, I made a foolish and stupid mistake and I regret it. I'll regret it for the rest of my life, Hazelon…"

"You ain't no one to be judgin' how I choose to be livin' my life." Hazelon's words come slowly now, delivery careful. Each one is considered before he lets them out. When the harper lets him down he shifts away from that wall and drops a hand down to rest upon a pocket, ready to reach for what is within if the apprentice comes near him again. "You ain't nothin' to me no more." Gathering up a moisture in his mouth he spits on the floor before he harper, distain clear.

Rayathess shakes his head again, only to wince when that seems to cause his nose to bleed afresh and he tries to blot it again, only marginally effective. "I'm not judging you!" he scoffs, incredulous. "Or trying to force you!" Okay, maybe he is a little bit (or a lot). "Only trying to make you SEE that you have other options! I don't want to see you go down like Lyreh has. Where Laurali almost went. Where even I was tempted to go." He'll go silent then, noticing where Hazelon's hand drifts and falls to his pocket, his expression unreadable and guarded, only to blink when the teen spits at his feet. His look then is one of disgust but also lingering confusion. "And I was before?" he fires back.

"At least I'm not lyin' to myself about what I am." Hazelon's voice has gone quiet. No, he's done with this argument. And since Rayathess isn't making any movement towards him Hazelon will slowly begin to back away, keeping his gaze on the harper just in case he decides to throw punches of his own. "Mayhap I'm wrong. Mayhap there be some kind of life here waht I could be pickin' up what ain't includin' murder and theft. Mayhap they here are good folk what'll be keepin' Ustrr off my back. That's a whole pile of mayhap that I ain't comfortable rollin 'round. Soon as that snow melts I'll be runnin."

"I know what I am and who I am!" Rayathess snaps at Hazelon, bristling again before he wrestles himself under control. He won't make any movement towards the teen, knowing far better than to try to stop him. He's feeling those punches now, though he's doing his best not to let it show. "There ARE good folk here and they are keeping Ustrr off your back. They'll find him and bring him to justice. You'll see." he mutters, watching as Hazelon steps on by.

There is more thinking to be done as Hazelon clears the danger zone around the harper apprentice. "Mayhap." His word falls one last time, not ready to let Rayathess have the last word in this conversation. Too much doubt, anger and fear to let him be having his mind changed by Rayathess. Perhps another could talk him around, when there was less on the line. He'll turn abruptly and walk, none of the tension in his shoulders leaving till he's left the bloodied Rayathess well behind him.