Fort Weyr - Headwoman's Office

This area is plainly set up as an office space. A slightly used desk, with a slightly used chair pushed up to it, is in the left corner immediately as one enters, and a set of bookshelves lines the right corner. Against the west wall, offset away from the door, is a curtained doorway that leads to the Bedroom. The curtain, made of fabrics of pure browns and dark blacks is pulled shut, firmly discouraging snooping. A comfortable couch and some chairs, along with a low table, are set up in the back left corner, though some more uncomfortable chairs are placed right on either sides of the door for when the Headwoman has to mete out punishment.
Next to the desk is a low cupboard, only coming up to about waist-high off the floor, and made of a dark, fine hardwood. On the top of the cupboard is an area made for holding glasses until one wants a drink of something. On the walls are various tapestries and even a painting - of the gentle, rolling seascape. The tapestries depicted have the common theme of Fort Weyr - a giant tapestry of Fort's crest is the most prominent, situated on the wall across from the door to the Hallway. Other tapestries depict everything from a formation of dragons fighting Thread over Fort Weyr, to gentler tasks, though most have dragons or firelizards woven into the design somewhere. Most decorations are done in either a deep, rich brown or a stark, unending void of black, with a spattering of royal blues thrown into the mix. This seems to be a room you can make yourself at home in.
The desk is hardly cluttered - it is clean and neat. There are, however, a few official looking notices piled neatly in one corner, and a stack of fresh hides and writing utensils in the other corner.

Kimmila stalks off, heading straight for the stairs that lead up towards the offices. Walking with long strides down that wing hallway, she peers narrowly at the doors she passes, until she reaches out and grabs a handle, yanking it open and stepping inside, letting Th'ero follow her into…the empty Headwoman's office. And when he steps in, the bluerider closes the door behind him firmly, before turning and finally planting her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell, Th'ero?" she demands.

It's only a short walk up the stairs and down the hall, but it's enough time for Th'ero's mood to sour considerably. So as he steps inside the office, taking a few strides forwards to set some distance between him and Kimmila, her demand is met with a cold silence. Seconds tick by and then the Weyrleader side glances to the bluerider, lips still set in a grim line. "Why don't you tell me?" he asks in too calm a voice, too level of a tone. His whole posture screams tension from stress and a rising temper, recently made thoughts weighing heavily on his mind.

Kimmila notices those warnings, and she doesn't give a damn. "Why did you let them Stand?" she demands, a hand pointing with an accusing finger downwards, presumably in the direction of the Living Caverns. "I gave you a /perfectly/ good excuse to /not/ Search them. A dragon checked them out, and no dice, not interested! Why didn't you take it? Why'd you let them stay? You're inviting a /ton/ of trouble, Weyrleader," she snaps, her green eyes narrowing.

Th'ero is in no mood to be lectured, let alone by Kimmila and not while trapped in some office. "Don't patronize me!" he snaps back at her, anger flashing in his eyes and his own hand coming up to point a finger at her. "You don't think I'm aware of that? And I heard what you told me! I'm not deaf and neither am I dumb. I don't like this situation any more then you!" He growls, beginning to pace now around the confines of the office. It's obvious the Weyrleader is still trying to hold back his anger and no longer does he meet the bluerider's gaze. In fact, he's so fixated on the turmoil of his thoughts that he doesn't even glance her way, even as he continues. "Varmiroth is not in Search for Fort, but Velokraeth /is/. You heard them, didn't you?"

Kimmila crosses her arms over her chest as she stands by the door, glaring at him as he paces. "If you don't like it, then why didn't you /do/ something about it?" she demands. "You can tell Velokraeth /no/, you know. You can say, 'Gee, Velo, perhaps inviting unknown traders to stay in our Weyr is a bad idea, when they came here seeking to deal their way in with some bullshit about an artifact.' You know what's going to happen if word gets out, right? Which it /will/, because they're /traders/. You're damn lucky it's winter and the passes are closing up, otherwise you'd have a /run/ of traders to Fort, all seeking to trade their kids' way into the Barracks! As it is, you might have more show up. It looks like they /bought/ their Candidacy, Th'ero."

"What I do or say to Velokraeth is my business alone." Comes the cold remark from Th'ero, his pacing now stopped as he focuses on the desk in front of him. Hands clench and unclench and for a moment he turns his back on Kimmila as she relentlessly throws the truth at him with her lecturing. In the end, it becomes too much for the young Weyrleader to handle and he turns on her, taking the few strides it takes to close the distance between them, hovering on the edge of invading her personal space. "Of course I know what will happen!" he shouts at her, voice rising as the last of his hold dissolves and anger begins to take its hold. "I'm not happy about this Kimmila and I don't need you harping me like I'm some errant /child/. The decision wasn't entirely mine, in case you're forgetting. And why bother skirting the obvious?" Th'ero spreads his hands out then, mouth curving up into some twisted smirk. "Of course they've /bought/ their candidacy!" This is admitted in a low snarl. The Weyrleader isn't stupid enough to go yelling that when ears are everywhere. "Even a dimwit would catch on. What's done is done. What can I do now? Go down there and revoke it? How would that seem?"

Kimmila stands her ground when he approaches, not flinching away and even leaning /forward/ a little bit towards him. She has to look up at him, which only seems to irritate her further. "Of course you can't revoke it," she snaps, giving her head a firm shake so her shoulders move, her braid thumping against her shoulders and her talon necklace bouncing. "But you need to make /damn/ sure it doesn't happen again. Make up a story. Right now. Say Velokraeth /insisted/ they stay. That he /did/ see something in them. Something fucking /good/, so it at least has the /appearance/ of a genuine Search." Her punctuated words are met with a finger snapping towards his chest each time, never quite touching him but getting close as the gesture conveys a lot of her anger and frustration. "And you'll need to tell Deitra to keep her mouth shut, too. Because if this gets out to the /other/ Candidates, it's going to really, /really/ drop their perception of you and this Weyr and their /own/ worth."

So it comes down to a bit of a stare down, with Kimmila leaning towards him and staring up into his narrowed eyes as he glowers back at her. "You don't think I've already /got/ that covered?" Th'ero tells her, words almost hissed through his clenched teeth, arms held rigid to his side and hands balling up into fists. The Weyrleader's shaky hold on his temper isn't improved both by Kimmila's finger pointing repeatedly at his chest and it's the last straw that finally snaps him. Reflexes honed from Turns of training, his hand darts up and snares her by the wrist, grip firm and not quite gentle but neither would it cause her harm. "Don't do that!" Th'ero growls out each word haltingly to stress his point, pulling himself to full height and glaring down at her. "I know the stakes and the dangers. Do you not think for a moment I don't know how fucking serious this is, Kimmila?" Now he's really infringing on personal space, hand still gripping her wrist as he all but backs her into the door. Th'ero isn't yelling any more, but his voice has become oddly quiet and cold. "So much can go wrong and has gone wrong. It's a damn sharding mess I've dug myself into and no way out now. Last thing right now is all of that thrown back at me!" And with that, the Weyrleader lets go of the bluerider and backs away, turning his back to her again as he resumes his pacing.

Kimmila bristles when she's grabbed, staring up at him and snarling, her fist clenched as he holds onto her wrist. Her breath comes quick and ragged as her other hand reaches up to plant onto his chest, /pushing/ at him. She's smaller than him, but she's not weak, though her push probably doesn't do much good. When he lets her go she stays against the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glares at him. "The last thing you need to be doing is pushing away the one person who is trying to /help/ you, you idiot!" she hisses, her voice low and snappy. Leaning back against the door, her arms are still crossed /tightly/ over her chest, glaring at him through narrowed eyes and thick lashes.

Th'ero did feel her push all right, which lead to him releasing his hold and stepping back. And while his back is turned to her, he doesn't have to look at Kimmila to know she's pissed off and glaring at him. In fact, the Weyrleader barely glances over his shoulder at her. "How is this /helping/ me? You've done nothing but patronize me and lecture me." For good reason, but Th'ero is being irrational now and is rapidly reverting to his past nature: closed, silent, brooding and drowning himself in self-pity. He knows he's pushing the bluerider away, which only adds more stress and conflict for him to worry and pick at, but he seems unable to stop it. No apology comes as Th'ero sullenly seeks out the empty chair behind the desk, the scowl on his face apparent when he turns to settle heavily into it.

Kimmila abandons the door to stalk forward and slam her hands down on the desk, leaning over it to glare at him. "Because I'm pissed off at you, Th'ero! We can't have a rousing fight every now and then without you going all sulky on me? Fucking /stop/ it," she snaps. "We kissed, you got back together with your girlfriend, I was hurt, but it's /over/. We're friends again and everything is fucking /peachy/." Peachy? Redfruit-y? Doesn't quite have the same ring to it. "Stop being all broody and stop closing off. This /is/ salvageable, I'm just pissed and letting it out."

Th'ero glares up at Kimmila as she slams her hands down on the desk, mouth drawn into another twisted smirk. He then puts his own hands on the desk to support himself as he leans out of his seat and towards the bluerider. The look he gives her could be read as many things, none of which are very polite. But those thoughts are never voiced and the Weyrleader avoids really bad situation by a last minute surge of common sense by the name of Velokraeth. "Fine." Th'ero snaps back. "Have it your way then. And /don't/…" And now he lifts a hand to point at Kimmila's chest this time. "…bring all of that up too. I've enough guilt over that and this new mess I've created." Well, at least she has him talking again?

Kimmila meets his gaze with her eyes narrowed, and when he chooses (is told?) to keep his thoughts to himself, she frowns. "What?" she demands. "Fine, I won't. Sorry, guess that was a bit of a low blow, but it seems like it's still an…issue," she says, straightening up so she can wave a hand around a bit. "Guilt?" She flops into a chair on the opposite side of the desk, sitting sideways with her legs draped over the arm. Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs as her anger ebbs away. Shoulders slump, and she takes a deep breath. "Fuck. Well, have I sent you running? Fucked up our friendship beyond all repair?" And while her lips are twisted into a characteristic 'I don't give a damn about the world' smirk, her eyes say differently as they watch him closely, waiting - expecting? - him to say yes and kick her out.

"It was." Th'ero confirms that, indeed, some past issues between them are still a little sore and that coupled with the afternoon's disaster, it's just wearing the Weyrleader down. As Kimmila flops back into a chair, he lingers where he is on the desk, watching her carefully, almost warily, before slowly easing back into his own seat. His anger doesn't ebb away so quickly though and he's still regarding her a touch coolly. "No, you haven't. I might've though." Th'ero replies crisply, expression settling into a neutral mask now as his scowl lessens into a frown, gaze sliding away from Kimmila and focusing now on the desk. The orders to get out of the office that is neither theirs to claim never comes and it takes a few seconds that may seem to stretch forever before the Weyrleader finally gives in. "What have I done?" he says quietly as his shoulders drop and he visibly sags into the chair, exhausted and looking plain miserable.

Kimmila glances over at him, and sighs, shaking her head. "You haven't, Th'ero," she says, her voice quiet and weary. "Just…don't push me away, okay? I…it's awkward, I guess, but it'll be okay. Not rid of me that easily," she says with a little smile directed down at the desk. She shrugs. "You…did what you had to, I guess. Neyuni kind of left you hanging, too," she says with a frown. "But it'll work out. It's not like it's /horrible/ having them here. Maybe they'll be good Candidates. Maybe it'll build some bridges between the weyr and the traders. I don't know. It's not the end of the world, I just…got frustrated you didn't accept my help, I guess," she says with a shrug. "My damn pride, or something, and thinking you're pushing me away…" She trails off, shrugging again and glancing at him. "You look terrible, Th'ero," she says with concern.

Th'ero watches and listens carefully to Kimmila, gaze moving up from the desk to settle on her thoughtfully. As the last of his anger and temper drain away, he even manages a half smile in return but it's shaky at best. "I'll have to speak with Neyuni too, I think." The Weyrleader admits before shaking his head slowly, the grim look resettling itself. "False candidates. What bridges can be built from lies, Kimmila? Unstable ones." He mutters in a low tone, one hand coming to scrub tiredly at the side of his face. "I should have accepted your help because you had the right of it. We'd have some angry Traders but we'd have found some other way. Instead, I get myself wrapped up around this artifact they've discovered and the pressure of the bargain being /public/." There's a sigh then and a dismissive wave of his hand, not wanting to mull over it anymore. Th'ero then snorts sharply. "You're pride? More like both of ours. And I'm not pushing you away, Kimmila and I never was." He states honestly, before actually smiling his first smile since the traders arrival. "I feel terrible." He admits to her concern and the smile dies to become a smirk. "What I wouldn't do right now for a drink or two. Maybe a dozen." Th'ero muses sarcastically, though more is left unsaid.

Kimmila nods, "I think that's a good idea," she says, a foot swinging a bit. Then she shrugs. "You never know, maybe they're good kids…I don't know, Th'ero. Now that I'm done yelling at you, I'm trying to make you feel better," she says with a faint little smile, a touch wry. "Well…I'm glad to hear that. I thought you were." Then she laughs, nodding her head towards the door. "I could sneak down to the bar and grab something? The Headwoman won't be back for a while, if this storm is as bad as Varmiroth says it is. She went down to the Hold."

"Maybe. And maybe there's something else and we just can't see it. I don't know either." Th'ero murmurs thoughtfully, fingers knitting together as he sets his hands in his lap. "I know you are." He says, smiling a little in return to the bluerider before giving the door a brief glance. Brows settle into a thoughtful frown and then the Weyrleader shakes his head. "As much as that is tempting…I feel awkward being in here." Th'ero admits with a hint of amusement to his voice and then with a tired sigh, pushes himself reluctantly to his feet. He hesitates there for a moment, distracted, mouth drawing downwards again before he gives himself a shake. Moving again, he comes around to where Kimmila sits and stops just a bit to the side and behind the chair. Looking down at her, there is no anger in his eyes now and a hand comes up to rest gently on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, for everything." Th'ero murmurs softly, before his gaze slides away and so does his hand. The Weyrleader only takes a step or two away though, before turning to face her again. "Drinks are still in order though. Just…not here, somewhere else." Please?

Kimmila shrugs as she watches him. "Don't know how it's going to all come out," she admits. Glancing to the door when he does, she chuckles and smiles a little. "Awkward?" she asks, frowning a little bit when he does. Staying seated as he walks around towards her, she lifts her hand to touch her fingertips against his hand when it rests on her shoulder. "Thank you," she whispers, meeting his eyes. "I am too." Her hand falls when his moves away, and she pushes to her feet. "Where, then?" she asks, motioning him towards the door. "I'll fetch the drinks, at least. What do you want?"

"Yes, awkward." Th'ero repeats with a slight curve of his mouth that is neither quite smile nor smirk. What the Weyrleader doesn't share with Kimmila is that he seems to have bad luck with offices that are not his own. The whispered thanks earns Kimmila a small smile from the bronzerider and then he's simply shrugging his shoulders tiredly. "Anywhere but here. Preferably not too public, so Shenanigans is out of the question." He says with a thoughtful frown, gaze fixating on the closed door as if it holds the answers he needs. His hand rests on the handle, but he makes no move to open it. "Suggestions?" Th'ero asks as he glances over his shoulder to the bluerider, followed by a true smirk. "I've a thirst for wine. Red, preferably dry."

Kimmila nods, stopping beside him and looking expectantly at his hand on the doorknob, before she looks up at him and shrugs. "Your weyr would be the most non-public," she offers with a little grin. "Don't think the snow's too bad, yet, to manage climbing up the stairs. Not many places will be really non-public right now, this time in the evening with a blizzard going on…" Climbing /down/ the stairs might be an issue, but she'll burn that bridge when she gets to it. "Dry red wine. I'm sure I can find some of that," she says, nodding at the door. "Shall we, then?"

Th'ero gives Kimmila a long look when she suggests his own weyr, but the Weyrleader considers it before nodding his head in agreement. The bluerider's reasoning is pretty logical, so the bronzerider accepts it readily enough. "Good points." He murmurs, finally turning the handle and opening the door, gesturing for Kimmila to go first before following her out into the hallway. Th'ero lingers only long enough to close the door behind him before he's off, but not without a few last words. "I'll meet you there." He tells her, already fastening his jacket and slipping on his gloves in preparation of facing the blizzard outside, trying not to grimace too visibly at the idea. Thankfully, not only is his weyr ground level, but also it's easy enough to find.

'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.