Fort Weyr - Weyrleader's 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.

Afternoon has not seen a break in the light rain that has fallen since the morning. Little more than a drizzle, it has kept the Weyr damp and soaked so that any travel outside is miserable and cool and doubly so when the winds kick up and bring with it a bite of winter. At least in the inner caverns of the Weyr there is promise of warmth and the Weyrleader's office is no exception. A fire crackles away in the hearth and the firelight adds a little more atmosphere to the many glow baskets set about the various nooks and shelves. Th'ero isn't seated at his desk at that moment and stands instead by the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back and his brows knitted in a heavy frown. The Weyrleader's mood is in not the best of places and generally when he's this broody it's not a wise idea to push him. At least he's not tense and pacing? That's even worse. Yet when he speaks, it's no more then a low growled muttering to the one also in the offices with him. "I'm still uncertain if it will come to that… If we have made the correct decisions…" And there they wait, for earlier a summons was given via Velokraeth to Cikitsakath for the brown's rider to come to the Weyrleader's office at her earliest convenience.

Kimmila shrugs as she lounges rather casually in one of the chairs facing his desk. "I guess we'll see what comes of it," she remarks, pushing hair out of her face. "Time will tell if we were right or utterly, foolishly wrong. Just like always," she adds with a faint smirk.

Braving the wind and weather is not a certain brownrider's idea of fun right now. Summons via Velokraeth from the Weyrleader have negated the idea even further, but with a certain sort of resignation the Roc Wingleader takes to the skies from her weyr and careens down to the administrative complex. She's dressed for the weather, wearing her flight leathers to keep out the worst of the chill and damp. Sliding off the large brown's withers, the slip of a woman makes her way up, moving through the council chambers and finally entering the Weyrleader's Office with a smart knock to announce her presence beforehand. Door is shut behind and the woman takes her helmet off, snapping a smart salute. "How may I be of service, Weyrleader?" Her demeanor is properly respectful, but there is a tension in her frame and fear in her eyes. She's heard the rumors floating around just as everyone else has.

"I'd rather not have a repeat of what almost happened in the caverns…" Th'ero mutters as he turns away from the hearth and takes a few slow strides to where Kimmila is so casually lounging in one of the chairs facing his desk. Reaching down, he will clasp her shoulder firmly and the look he gives her is one only she may be able to understand. Clearly she is there for more than just note taking and her occasional insight and opinion. The bluerider may be all that stands between Yhri and one furious Weyrleader if the cards deal in that direction. At the knock, he will withdraw his hand and turn to face the door and his dark eyes will immediately look over Yhri as the Wingleader enters and salutes. Nodding his head respectfully but brisk, he will gesture sharply with a hand to the empty chair. Sit. "We've," Not I? "Something we'd like to discuss with you, in order to gain some clarification. Should not take too long." he says in a low and even voice. Once she has settled, he will take his seat behind the desk. Leaning back, he will spare Kimmila a quick look and a nod indicating he wants her to produce the reports and paperwork — evidence, really. "Could you explain for us, Yhri, what exactly occurred between you and your former Wingrider G'val a few days ago in the Roc Wing Lounge?" Th'ero asks as his gaze slides back to the small brownrider and holds firm. His expression may be neutral, but those eyes beg to differ. He's not in the mood for nonsense this afternoon!

Kimmila reaches up to clasp Th'ero's hand and give him a nod. She turns her head when Yhri enters, greeting the Wingleader with a small nod, but for now she's silent.

The brownrider's expression falters for a moment as the Weyrleader brings up that incident. Throat bobs in a swallow — mercifully hidden behind the high collar of the leathers — and Yhri allows her hand to drop from the salute, adopting an at ease stance, though her eyes demonstrate anything but relaxation. There is a pause as the interim Wingleader takes a slow breath. For a moment the idea of equivocating flits through her thoughts but a look at Th'ero firmly rules out the idea. Besides, she has too much respect for the Weyrleader to spin such a blatant falsehood. So, instead, he gets full honesty and personal responsibility out of her. "I lost my temper with G'val and threatened bodily harm, Weyrleader." The tone is flatly matter of fact as the images swim in front of her mind's eyes. "As this was unusual for me I immediately sought the council of a mindhealer, sir." There is a certain emotional detachment in her voice as she informs him of this, though her eyes hint at just how much the whole series of unfortunate events pains her to the core.

Th'ero will take the paperwork and reports from Kimmila as the bluerider hands them over silently and while Yhri settles herself, he will quickly rifle through to find his notes before setting the rest aside and within reach of either of them. Though his eyes have lowered during this task, it does not mean the Weyrleader's attention has waned and he is indeed listening keenly to every word and the tone of Yhri's voice. Full honesty is often the best course with Th'ero and he will glance up again to fix her with his stoic and unreadable gaze as he leans back in his chair, hands clasped together in his lap. "So you admit to doing it?" he says, with no hint of surprise to his voice. What does seems to spark his interest is her claim to have visited a mind healer. A sharp look is given to Kimmila then and a glance to the papers she has access too. Was that in there and overlooked? "And?" He'll ask Yhri, phrased both as question and command.

Kimmila lifts the reports to Th'ero and frowns at Yhri. FROWN. "What did you do to him?" She wants to hear it from her, apparently. In her own words.

Helmet under her left arm, the right is tucked behind, hand curled at the small of Yhri's back. Dread creeps through her core like a sickening miasma. You really blew it, Yhri! She forces them back down with a swallow and meets Th'ero's gaze evenly. "I do." Voice breaks faintly at what that admission costs her. Kimmila's query gets an answer next. "G'val told me that nothing I could do to him would be worse than what he had already done to himself." A swallow, the next few seconds of memory painful. She still manages to keep her voice level as she explains. "I lost control of myself, climbed into his lap to pin him and drew my knife to put against his throat." A pause, recomposing herself. "Per the mindhealer I was not in my right mind due to lack of sleep, coupled with the stress of my responsibilities and my feelings of inadequacy in the face of Roc Wing and Fort Weyr's recent decline in status. He prescribed a tonic to handle my recent issues with insomnia and an exercise regimen to provide a healthy outlet to cope with stress." Most of the factual details out of the way, emotion tries to bubble up, and the Wingleader's head hangs in shame. "I deeply regret my failure, Weyrleader."

Th'ero's expression betrays nothing of what the Weyrleader may be thinking for the most part, but when Kimmila prompts Yhri to retell the events, he scowls. Lips draw back into a thin line, disapproving and disappointed as a finger taps against the sheet that he so hastily scrawled his notes upon earlier and his eyes drop again as he mulls over his thoughts. Glancing again to Kimmila, Th'ero will then exhale heavily once the bluerider has shared her opinion or comments, if any and speak in a low, flat tone. "So I can see that you regret your actions, but that still does not remedy the fact that I had to reassure G'val and see him rotated into another Wing that would suit his skills." Which to judge by the way Th'ero smirks was no easy task. The other Wingleaders were probably not pleased in having to take on a rider directly responsible for the delivery fiasco. "It also still does not excuse you for drawing a knife on one of your Wingriders! If you were feeling such pressure and stress, why did you not bring it to any of our attentions?" he asks next, levelling Yhri with a long look. Well?

Kimmila scowls, eying Yhri. And while the bluerider is not in a position to pass judgement or administer punishments, well. She's passing judgement in her own mind, bending her head to her note taking with a firm stroke of pen to paper.

Shoulders straighten as the Weyrleader responds, exhaling through her nostrils as the words wash over the brownrider, eliciting a small grimace, mostly invisible as Yhri examines the stone floor. Tongue darts out to wet her lips as she contemplates her response, looking at Th'ero again as he implies just how difficult the reassignment was. Her innards twinge at the memory of G'val's departure and his harsh but accurate words for her. "I understand, Weyrleader." She swallows and does her best to straighten and compose herself. "I know that I had no justifiable reason to even threaten G'val. I was deeply in the wrong. I know that the mindhealers say that I am not at fault, but I do take responsibility." The next question is harder and causes her to stop, examining herself and her actions for the umpteenth time again and she forces herself to meet the bronzerider's gaze. "I honestly did not know that I was undergoing any more significant amount of stress than usual, sir. I was angry at G'val for his part in the defaming of Fort Weyr, but I truly believed myself in control of my emotions. The mindhealers can attest to my usual stability, if you wish, sir." A pause, concern dashing across her features as she wonders if he'll find her statement flippant. "I respect you, sir, and truly want to live up to your expectations of me." It's true, though the Wingleader is clearly hoping it will mollify him a bit.

Th'ero is silent all through Yhri's explanation of her behaviour and of the assessment given by the mindhealers. The Weyrleader is silent for a long time after she has finished speaking, giving away nothing of the judgement he holds or his inner thoughts save for the hints that he is mulling carefully over what has been said and shared. "Next time, when you feel that it is necessary to punish a rider who has committed such a grievous error beyond the normal mistakes, it is usually best to consult with us." he says, lifting a hand to gesture to himself, Kimmila and then sweep outwards to indicate the Weyrsecond's office. "And together we can come to an agreeable solution. Intimidation tactics are no way to gain loyalty of your Wing and you are extremely lucky that G'val is not loose of tongue or you may have found yourself ousted by your own riders. As it stands…" He looks to Kimmila then, letting the sentence hang as he considers Yhri for another long, tense moment. "A moment, if you wouldn't mind? I've a few words I'd like to discuss with Kimmila." There are no mentions to following up on the mindhealers or even acknowledgement to her mention of respecting him — not yet anyways. Instead he only leans back in his chair again as he seeks to have a low and whispered conversation with the bluerider and leaving poor Yhri to squirm and wait.

Kimmila shifts forwards, meeting Th'ero half way and with a darting look at the Wingleader, she replies in soft tones.

If Yhri's hands were not occupied they might be found pressing palm to palm before her lips in a nervous gesture. Perhaps fortunately for the brownrider she is stuck with her helmet occupying the left hand fully, so instead of right hand simply has to ball into a nervous fist at the small of her back, fingers undulating to try and work out some of the shame and fear in her intestines. "I understand, sir. I assure you that it will not happen again." From the look of things the Wingleader would rather slit her own throat, and given the lack of suicidal tendencies in the mindhealer's report neither event seems likely. There is a polite nod and half bow as Th'ero asks for a moment of privacy and she takes a step back for added personal space, doing her best to wait patiently despite the tunnelsnakes crawling around inside her.

Poor, poor Yhri. Left there to wait while Th'ero bends his head down to listen to Kimmila and then murmur something low in return, too low to be overheard. Even more unsettling is the way the Weyrleader's eyes keep drifting back to the small brownrider at intervals and seem to stare right into her. Oh yes, they're discussing her fate! There is absolutely no doubt about that. At last, he straightens again, chair creaking beneath him with the shift o this weight as he sits up to face the interim Wingleader of Roc. Gesturing for her to approach, he goes straight to the point. She gave him honesty, he does not sugar coat or beat around the bush. "You will not be punished." Th'ero explains in a cool and level voice. One that speaks of authority and finality. What he says next may not be open for debate or challenge. "As it appears you have come to understand the consequences of your lack of judgement. So you will remain as interim Wingleader for Roc, as the Wing needs the stability and seeing you removed and replaced with yet another Wingleader will only cause more headache for all of us. We've faith in your abilities, Yhri but now you are going to prove it to us." he states, glancing sidelong to Kimmila as he does. Will she add anything? "Of course, remaining as Wingleader there will be one condition: you mess up like this again and there will be heavier consequences!" And he need not explain WHAT will occur then. That should be obvious enough.

Kimmila doesn't have anything to add, she just nods and backs Th'ero up in this. As she was part of the decision, it makes sense that she'd back him up. "Keep the knife away, Yhri," she says flatly. Oh look, she did have something to add.

Tunnelsnakes continues substituting themselves for the interim Wingleader's guts as they clearly discuss what should be done with her and no doubt to her as well. Somehow despite the rising tide of bile in her throat Yhri manages to stay still. Unnaturally still. Nostrils flare as the burning in her lungs suddenly reminds the brownrider to breathe before she passes out and air is drawn in and out with forced slowness, emotions slowly brought under tight rein to be dealt with later. Shoulders sag slightly in relief as the Weyrleader informs her that she will not be punished for her actions against G'val. Relief gibbers at the back of her mind and she silences it, lifting her chin and snapping a sharp salute in response to his acknowledging her efforts to bear proper responsibility. "Sir!" Hand drops again as he continues and she swallows, feeling the weight of his disappointment on her. "Thank you for the opportunity, Weyrleader. I assure you such a grievous error will not occur again." From the set of her jaw and serious cast to her hazel eyes she is dead serious too. And then Kimmila chimes in and the brownrider almost loses it, the remark about the knife almost sending her into titters as the stress levels build in the tense situation. What comes out is a muffled squeak before she clears her throat and shakes herself a little, offering another smart salute. "Absolutely, ma'am!"

Passing out would not be a wise thing to do. Nor would throwing up. Both would have Th'ero put in a very awkward position (not to mention a good dosage of guilt). He wants this to stick in Yhri's mind, but he's not seeking to break the poor brownrider either. His method of warning does not require the use of knives and while he has a reputation for having a nasty temper, he's far more dangerous as he is now with his level tone and cryptic ways. Beware the games he plays. "Good. Do not make us regret giving you this second chance, Wingleader Yhri. You are dismissed and free to return to your duties." Th'ero remarks dryly and in that same level, too-calm manner. Already he is pushing to his feet, signalling the end of this meeting and making it clear that he has business elsewhere to attend to and made all the more evident when he reaches for Kimmila's arm. Another few low murmured words to the bluerider, but this time only to confirm something with her rather than blatantly discuss a rider's fate in their presence.

Kimmila takes Th'ero's arm and with nothing more than a brief glance at the brownrider, she is walking out with Th'ero, answering his soft comment with one of her own.

Though her insides still squirm, the brownrider appears in control of herself again. Her salute is dropped in favor of a respectful bow to the Weyrleader, erring on the side of caution when it comes to how deep to go. "You have my word, sir." At the dismissal she offers another smart salute and about-face, opening the door and sliding out smoothly, though her knees feel like rubber and her thighs seem to have forgotten their function. She still manages to slip out with a modicum of dignity, door shutting behind her. In the council chamber now, she leans against a table, regaining her composure in the emptiness for a moment before she picks her cap back up, sliding it over her curls and strides out into the muck and drizzle. Cikitsakath is waiting for her, foreleg offered, and she climbs up onto him and they launch upwards, heading back to the Wingleader's weyr, the cold air serving as a much needed slap as the drops sting against her flesh, straps fluttering in the wind. As they land on her ledge she slides down, slipping inside. There will be time for reflections later, but for now, duty calls…