Fort Weyr - Weyrleader's 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.

If it's late night on the northern coast of Tillek and High Reaches, then it's even later in Fort. Night has long since fallen and the Weyr is in that eerie silence with most of its riders and weyrfolk fast asleep. Light snow is falling and to any who would be up at this hour would remark it seems so peaceful. Which jinx the whole affair right then and there. It starts with Dremkoth reaching out to bespeak Zuvaleyuth and Velokraeth, informing them of the situation. The ship that the Candidates were on for their excursion has sank after hitting an iceberg. No casualties (at least with the Candidates). More details are filtering in, but Velokraeth is swift to rouse his rider though it takes considerable effort. Th'ero has had one long, busy day and has only been asleep at best for an hour, so when the bronze insists he wakes up, the Weyrleader moves a bit too sluggishly for his liking and winds up getting all the news up front and blunt. THAT gets his attention and swearing up a storm, wakes Kimmila up while Velokraeth spreads word to Varmiroth. Stumbling from the bed, he'll dress hastily, barking his shins in the semi-dark and swearing all the more for that and telling Velokraeth to send word through Zuvaleyuth to have Dtirae meet them in the office.

Kimmila has had a few more candlemarks of sleep, but she's still groggy when she's awoken. Being woken up this late can only mean bad news, so she's quick to get up and open a glow basket - unfortunately after Th'ero hurt himself - and quick to dress and follow him to the offices. Tugging fingers through her hair, her expression is drawn and worried. "Can we go? Do we have an image?"

Zuvaleyuth's relaying of Dremkoth's message has Dtirae swiftly out of bed, despite the lack of sleep. Fear tends to wake you up quickly. Clothes pulled on, hair haphazardly pulled back, and then more questioning from her lifemate on the situation. While none of the answers are exactly what she wants, it is still more than nothing. The message relayed from Th'ero has the woman storming (as quickly as she can) to the offices. The slight limp is what keeps her from being as quick as she previously was, but it is certainly faster than when she wore the cast! Her expression is, fortunately, schooled into something calmer while body language is entirely different. "I doubt Tillek or High Reaches would take kindly to Fort dragons suddenly storming their skies." The Weyrwoman offers, her tone entirely unpleasant as she speaks. Without waiting, the woman finds herself a seat and begins to rub at her calf idly while looking to Th'ero in question.

STOMP, storm, stomp! Th'ero is in a mood by the time he grabs his winter riding gear and slams his feet into his boots, stalking off into the night and for the short distance it takes him and Kimmila to arrive at the council chambers. Into his office they go and as they wait on Dtirae, he will furiously work on stoking the fire back to life. Not that it takes much! He was just in here not long ago. Grabbing a few maps and charts, he sets them on the desk and pins the corners down, scowling as he does and his eyes drifting from clear to unfocused. He shakes his head, grimacing. About to answer Kimmila, he abruptly falls silent and straightens as Dtirae enters the office and takes a seat even before he can gesture for the Weyrwoman to do so. Smirking, he motions for Kimmila to sit, though he remains standing behind his desk as he looks between the two. "Dtirae is right. They're in High Reaches territory now and we just can storm in. I've had Velokraeth bespeaking their Weyrleader, but they're currently caught up in mobilizing their S&R Wing. Dremkoth says there is no visual land mark and until we can coordinate with High Reaches Weyr, it's unknown if any of their riders even know. So they're facing rescue by ship…" he explains and his tone says it all: he does NOT like that answer.

Kimmila shakes her head. "Fuck Tillek and High Reaches. If we've got Candidates - and D'ani - stuck on an iceberg we need to explore /all/ our options, and if that means betweening, then we're going to do it. But…" She is doubtful that's possible. Silent, she listens to Th'ero's answer and swears softly. There goes that idea. "Well can we do anything? Help fly the grid? Surely the fishermen knew where they were sailing. The others, the ones back in the Hold…"

Dtirae frowns, lingering in silence as her gaze drops briefly. Perhaps, it is to hide her frustration as her hand continues to massage her leg. "It's hard to get landmarks in an ocean where everything looks near the same. Even if there were visualizations, there'd be no way to tell exactly where they are." The information is repeated, and bottom lip is chewed on for a moment. "They'll help us, Tillek and High Reaches. We'll have them back, but… I really doubt they'd take kindly to us completely disregarding political lines and their territories. At least, until they've given the okay." Her hand tighens on her leg, the frown becoming deeper set on her brows. "I think if they had their course, they could probably approximate where they are based on how long they were gone? Did they even have a course?" Then, she looks to Th'ero for further guidance.

"What about the stars?" Th'ero interjects, impatiently tapping the charts he's laid out on the desk, only to give Kimmila a sharp look for her swearing remark. Though from the way he smirks, he may be almost on par with that opinion. Why not just fly there? If he's noted Dtirae massaging her leg, the Weyrleader is keeping it to himself for now. Just another thing to bring up the next time he speaks to the Weyrwoman under calmer circumstances. Hopefully not with alcohol involved! Straightening, Th'ero runs his hands through his hair, looking exhausted and frustrated. Not only is Velokraeth constantly updating him, lending to his distracted and scattered look but he's tired and running on next to no sleep. Not a good mix! "No, you're right Dtirae. We can't cross those lines with either Tillek Hold or High Reaches Weyr. Our hands our bound in that respect. But we're NOT just going to sit here idly either. Velokraeth is still trying to get through and gain permission. Do you think Zuvaleyuth may be able to convince them? One of the Queens, perhaps?" he mutters and then exhales heavily, glaring down at his desk. "That I do not know. We need to be there to get those sharding answers! I'd assume they would."

Kimmila shakes her head, "They would never refuse us access to our own people. I'm sure we'll get permission at any moment to go, even if we're just there. I don't know how we'd fly to the berg, but we can help look at least, and then be there to transport them home. Or be there to talk with the Healers, if they need it."

Dtirae nods slightly in agreement to Th'ero's comment on the stars, idle and slightly distracted. Her gaze is still, however, on the Weyrleader as she listens, fretting in silence as she considers. "Kimm is right, they won't keep us from going. But, it will be after they have the situation under control and after they know where they're located. If we come rushing in, they'll have additional chaos to deal with. Riders they're unfamiliar with, uncertain how to work with…" The Weyrwoman trails off and sighs softly. "Zuvaleyuth has begun bespeaking the Senior already, in attempt to allow us passage into the Weyr. They are… Reluctant, until they can provide us with more solid information. I am also doubting they want us standing around, pacing, and fretting while they're handling the situation." While the words may be resigned, the expression on her face is far from it. The control of emotions is beginning to crack, lips pressing into a thin line. "Hopefully, we'll have a better answer soon."

Th'ero scowls, "Of course they wouldn't refuse us access! They wouldn't dare and if they did, then I'd say tradition and politics be damned. Those are our candidates!" he points out and for a moment his voice wavers with the stress and frustration he's trying to keep at bay and in check. "We'll get there, Kimmila and you're right. We can help with the rescue…" He looks up at Dtirae then and frowns heavily, lips pressed into a thin line. "All good points." he mutters, tapping his fingers in an irregular rhythm against the desk's surface. The Weyrleader then scoffs, "Reluctant because of solid information? What more do we need?" Th'ero then swears again, tossing his hands up in a helpless gesture. "We'd not get underfoot! It's not like we're an undiciplined bunch of… of weyrlings! I'm already having Wingleader Nishka assemble only the best of her Wingriders and those with experience in water rescue. A small group. Have that relayed!" Someone's in a temper and Velokraeth, out on the ledge with Varmiroth and likely as close as he can get to Zuvaleyuth, rumbles in a disgruntled tone. Not helping! Th'ero sinks into his chair then, rubbing his fingers against his forehead, looking a touch pale. "We don't need answers, we need to get our Candidates home! Shards… this is not going to work well in favor of the excursions continuing. If we loose the Candidates…" He shakes his head, unable to continue that disturbing thought.

Kimmila shakes her head again, rising from her chair. "I'm going. And if they turn me away and make me wait on the heights, I don't care. I'm still going. Varmiroth can't get information from here anyway." Damn her dragon's limited range.

"I'm not certain, they're not exactly being forthcoming with all of the information." Dtirae returns to Th'ero, allowing the man to express his frustration (afterall, he's expressing enough for the both of them!). The Weyrwoman's gaze goes distant for a moment before she recofuses on the Weyrleader, "Zuvaleyuth has relayed the message. I don't think they'll be too pleased." A smirk, however, settles on her lips. "You are the Weyrleader and it is entirely your call for this situation. If you want to… Storm the keep, as it were, you are certainly free to make that decision." Is she goading him? Encoruaging? All of the above? Most likely. After all, she's got someone stranded out there as well. And, well, the Candidates are important, too.

Th'ero shoots Kimmila a look, his hand lowering from rubbing his temple and it's clear just from his closed expression what he's going to say next. "You're not going anywhere yet," he tells her in a firm and commanding tone, pointing at the chair. Sit! Or stand. The Weyrleader doesn't honestly care at this point. "I'm not going to go stirring them into a frenzy by ruffling feathers. Don't need the added headache and stress on top of this hole mess. Less you wish to push me into early retirement? Then by all means, go." That same statement is broadened to Dtirae as well, as he just openly stares at the Weyrwoman. Exhausted or not, he picked up on that subtle goading. Was it encouragement? Did he imagine it all? Silence settles so fast and thick that one can hear the muffled sound of riders and weyrfolk bustling out in the northern bowl in preparation to fly out as soon as the command is given. "I want nothing more than to have our Candidates and our Weyrsecond home and safe. I want answers and I want this resolved before we have folk breathing down our necks about risking the lives of so many…" Th'ero grimaces, eyeing the maps and charts again and lapsing into a brooding silence as he considers. "We're going. But we will go to Tillek Hold, not High Reaches Weyr. We'll wait on the heights…" A pointed look to Kimmila then. "And they can still have control of the situation. But our presence will be known and not forgotten in the thick of things."

Kimmila eyes Th'ero right back, her expression rebellious. She waits though - but does /not/ sit - for him to finish. And then she nods, a grin pulling at her lips. Showing teeth. "Yes. That is exactly what I meant." Maybe it's not, but she agrees with this plan. She agrees with it very much and she's itching to go.

Dtirae maintains eyecontact with Th'ero, slowly allowing her smirk to grow into a smile. He definitely did not imagine anything, nope. She's behind him completely, and thus: he won't be retired early (not from her actions, at least). The silence that picks up is allowed to continue, allowing the Weyrleader the time to think and determine the next course of action. "Hopefully, we'll be able to work this so that the trips can continue. It is certainly more productive than a constant stream of chores." And then, the decision is made. Her hand stops massaging her leg, and the Weyrwoman rises. A brief, distant look settles into her features before she nods to Th'ero. "Zuvaleyuth is prepared to announce our intentions, if you'd like, Th'ero. And, I'm going, too."

Th'ero's eyes narrow and harden when Kimmila shows her rebellious side, but relents a bit when she waits and does not storm off out the door. His attention turns to Dtirae then, nothing the Weyrwoman's smile and then Kimmila's and the Weyrleader exhales heavily. "Then have her announce it." When she mentions going with them, Th'ero's frown deepens and his expression twists. "Are you certain that is wise? Though I suppose if there are no High Reachian Queens at Tillek Hold, it's moot point. If it matters at all?" Does it? He has no idea who's golds are more territorial than others or are agreeable to strange golds. Does it truly matter or is Th'ero grasping at straws, trying to find any reason to hold Dtirae back without delving into things. Something has him suspicious… but he can't put a finger on it. Dratted lack of sleep! Pushing to his feet, he begins to fasten his jacket in preparation of heading outside. Time to move and despite his exhaustion he is itching to go just as much as Kimmila is. "Then it's settled?" This he asks of Dtirae and he will wait for her confirmation before nodding his head and finishing with the last of his orders. "Wingleader Nishka is ready with her Wingriders. I will go get Velokraeth's straps on and we will leave the moment we are all ready. Shall we?" They're dismissed and Th'ero will not linger long, only hastily deciding to grab up the charts and maps he had on his desk and carry them out with him.

Kimmila nods. "Ready," she agrees, giving Dtirae a long look before she's following Th'ero out the door. But she doesn't follow him for long, instead veering off to the kitchens, so that by the time they're ready to go all three of them have a sandwich and a skin of klah to get their energy going before they wink between to Tillek.

The word is sent at Th'ero's go, and once that's done, Dtirae only lings to listen to Th'ero and his concerns. A brief frown settles, "they'll not likely be bothered by her. She isn't proddy." At least she doesn't give him a defiant look, only a smile before she's nodding. "We're leaving. I'll have Zuvaleyuth strapped up quickly." And with that, the Weyrwoman strides from the office with a slight limp. Leathers are donned, straps are prepared and then when they meet, there's a thankful smile to Kimmila for the sandwich and klah.

Th'ero snorts again though he levels Dtirae with a long look. "Alright. Then we'll see you out in the bowl, Weyrwoman." he drawls and he leaves it at that. Though when she strides with that slight limp, his frown is returning. Is that it? Is that what is nagging him? Soon forgotten, however, as Velokraeth is demanding his attention and the Weyrleader hurries back up the steps to his ledge and goes through the routines of getting the straps set on the bronze. Kimmila's smart thinking of klah and food is a very good move, though she'll probably have to argue and all but shove that sandwich down Th'ero's throat herself before he'll reluctantly eat it. Half of it. The klah is downed though without complaint and then he's mounting up and buckling in. Last orders are relayed through Velokraeth and then the signal is given as the bronze launches into the air, followed by Wingleader Nishka's half-flight of Wingriders. Off they go to Tillek Hold, arriving in formation and likely causing a stir even at the hour they arrive in. As planned, they land on the fireheights and stay there while High Reaches Weyr takes over primary control. Later, there will be a meeting on the ground where all attend and Th'ero struggles to keep his temper and frustration in check the entire time. Especially with the sly comments about candidates being out there. At last, they agree upon a course of action and a ship is dispatched now that there is an idea of where they have been stranded.

Kimmila stands firmly by Th'ero's side, and she's even wearing her knot this time. Frowning, she holds her tongue (barely) at the snide remarks. But she does! She's good.

When they arrive at Tillek, Dtirae is almost entirely silent. She will, of course, speak when spoken to. She is listening, more than anything as she sits on one of Zuvaleyuth's forearms. They remain at attention, waiting for news on when, exactly, they can bring their people home.

News will come and a plan set into motion. The ship will sail and both High Reachian and Fortian dragons will fly sweeps and escort. Th'ero motions for Kimmila and Dtirae to join him, sending Wingleader Nishka ahead with her Wingriders to join those of the Reachian S&R Wing. "I swear, if we didn't have political relations to uphold, I'd have torn into their hides." he growls, the moment he has both the bluerider and Weyrwoman close enough for a brief private discussion by Zuvaleyuth. Velokraeth crowds in close too and if Varmiroth takes the other side, it will make a good semi-soundproof bubble for them to talk. "The nerve of them to bring in their sly underhanded comments." he mutters. "Not so much the Weyrleadership, but the damn Seacrafters. Are the Healers on standby back at the Weyr, Dei? Dremkoth is telling Velokraeth that one of the Candidates isn't doing so well. Everyone else is unharmed. Kimmila, do you and Varmiroth wish to run sweeps? I may go too, but I will be stuck with High Reaches' Weyrleader…" Joy of joys. Th'ero grimaces and then exhales, "Someone should stay here though. Dtirae?" He looks to her and smirks. Volun-told?

Kimmila nods, "I'll go," she says, pulling on her gloves and buttoning up her jacket. Eagerly, almost, she strides to Varmiroth and mounts up, swinging into the straps and the blue kicks into the sky to join the sweeps formation. His sweet eagerness helps in times like these, when he's allowed to join the sweeps without much trouble.

"You can certainly tear into them when they're not around in order to maintain relations." Dtirae offers once they are all in a sort of private setting. "They're probably frustrated as well." Maybe? But, she's certainly not defending them. "Healers are on standby should we need them." The news of one candidate's condition has the woman pressing her lips into a thin line, "at least everyone else is unharmed. I'll have Zuvaleyuth inform the Weyr that one will be needing treatment." As for being volun-told, the Weyrwoman looks near protesting but gives a nod. "We'll stay here."

"Fly safe, Kimmila." Th'ero murmurs to her while she pulls on her gloves. He will watch as she strides to Varmiroth and mounts up, following their progress as they soar off to join the other Wingriders out on sweeps. The Weyrleader turns to Dtirae then, tensing and squaring his shoulders when the Weyrwoman looks ready to protest him. "We need someone here to keep an eye out and organize things. Who better than you and Zuvaleyuth? Very few will challenge a Weyrwoman." Clever? Or is he being underhanded and sneaky again in keeping Dtirae out of the action? Could be either, both or none but once she agrees, Th'ero smiles faintly and begins to turn to Velokraeth, gripping the straps in preparation to mount up. "We'll get them home safe." There is a pointed look then, knowing full well who else the Weyrwoman is counting on to be safe and well. "I'll have Velokraeth report when we're close." With that, he climbs up and buckles in and with an eager rumble, the pale bronze lumbers forwards until he has the clearance to spread his wings and launch into the air. It will take until false dawn for the iceberg to be found, but the reports coming in through the dragons are all favorable. All are accounted for, with only one Candidate showing signs of hypothermia but is recovering. All in all, despite the severity of the accident and the loss of an entire ship and its cargo, they are very fortunate and lucky. Following the ship back in to the wharf, Th'ero will have the dragons return to the fire heights to rest while they go to greet the Candidates, both Stonehaven brothers, the crew and the Weyrsecond in person. Words are exchanged, some happy, others stern and a whole mix of emotions in between before they are deemed fit to Between back to the Weyr. Time to go home! Time to go back to bed. Reports and further answers will have to be sought later in the day.