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Politics and klah

Who: Miniyal and H'kon
Where: Living cavern
When: 10:23 on day 10, month 3, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
What: Miniyal sits in the living cavern doing the weyrlingmaster's hidework. H'kon happens upon her and they have a nice discussion on. . .wait. They have a discussion. Not so much nice in which Miniyal asks about current events and H'kon tries not to answer and winds up hearing probably not what he wanted. Or expected.


At High Reaches Weyr, it is 10:23 on day 10, month 3, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.

Breakfast is over with and lunch is not yet arrived so the living cavern is quiet. Well, quieter than it might be during a meal time. With the rain pouring outside in typical spring fashion there's a lot of people doing what they can indoors today. Near the fire is the usual collection of old aunties sipping their klah fortified with something stronger as they knit and chatter loudly about how things were different in their day. Near the kitchen a table is filled with kitchen workers taking a break between meals. Other than that everyone is relatively quiet. Especially Miniyal whose seated alone at a table near the entrance, no one likes sitting there because of the damp draft, with a stack of hides. One leg is propped up on a chair opposite the one she sits on and the boot rests on the floor by it. She seems to have found a sure fire way to get out of physical training today judging by the bandage on her ankle. So, she sits in here sipping klah, chewing on pastries, and doing hidework.

Quiet living caverns are H'kon's favourite kind, and so it's not too much of a surprise that he's here. What might be a surprise is that the brownrider is standing near those old aunties at the fire. He seems mostly overcome by the chattering, but after a moment of cautious conversation navigation, a few balls of wool exchange hands - red and brown swapped for a dull yellow and dark green - and the wingsecond takes his leave, working one-handed at opening a bag slung over his shoulder as he goes. Nearing the exit, however, he has to stop to stow his knitting supplies. And this is inevitably what makes him aware of Miniyal, the oddity sitting near the drafts. The general situation is sized up, and he murmurs, "Duties for the weyrlingmaster," in something akin to approval. If he's right about the hidework, anyway.

The pen stops moving and Miniyal lifts her head to find H'kon. She gives a little nod of her head and then gestures towards where her foot is propped up. "Slipped. Sprained my ankle so couldn't do anything else while everyone else does PT. Can't work in the office because he has meetings and couldn't walk to records." Way more information than he probably wanted or needed to know. Reaching for her mug she looks over to where the aunties are. "Trolling for a new girlfriend, sir?" she teases before taking a drink.

"I am sorry to hear you are hurt," H'kon notes in very much the same tone he'd used to get the old women by the hearths to be quiet long enough for the trade to be arranged. That bit of an edge gets to stay in his voice, courtesy of Miniyal's tease. "I am making a blanket." It's said with enough indignation that H'kon probably misses any element of the ridiculous in the statement. The remaining ball of wool is carefully tucked into the bag, which he closes up defensively with a tug of the drawstring. Hmph.

"See, I keep thinking you're going to develop a sense of humor." Miniyal shakes her head and reaches for a half-eaten pastry. "Want one? I promise not to tease you about anything else. Well, probably not." And, just to prove she's a liar she chews and swallows what she's bitten off before she mentions casually, "I heard Peloth was going to ask Arekoth to show her some new tricks today. Have a seat. I'm nearly done anyway. A child could do this. A child, but apparently not our weyrlingmaster."

"Well you clearly do not know me." Eyes go a bit wider for a moment, and then H'kon is back to looking like his old, stick-in-the-mud self. The pastry that Miniyal eats is eyed dubiously, and the brownrider gives his head a shake, all the while lifting one arm to prod idly at the shoulder of the other. "I am certain your weyrlingmaster is very capable. Perhaps it is just a way to keep you focused on the appropriate material." The bag is then adjusted over his shoulder, and he otherwise ignores talk of Peloth and Arekoth.

Licking her fingers off before wiping them on her pants leg Miniyal takes up her pen once more to return to her work. "No, he sucks at it, sir. It was a mess." Shaking her head she peers into her cup and lets out a little sigh. "Damn. Out." Down goes the pen again and she carefully pulls her foot down off the chair it was resting on. "So, are you going to ask for a transfer? Or is the promotion going to have you sticking around?" Carefully standing up she winces slightly before picking up her cup.

H'kon watches the woman through narrowed eyes, still full of distrust, it would seem, even after such a long acquaintance. Filled with annoyances and arguing. "What reason have I been given to ask for a transfer?" is questioned snappily, the suggestion clearly not taken in any sort of flattering light. And at her wince, H'kon gives a firm order of, "Sit down, weyrling," all the while making a snatch for that cup.

With such a polite and caring attitude how can she do anything but sit back down. Miniyal hands over her cup and sits back down, foot going back up on the chair. "We can talk when you come back, sir. Nothing in it, sir. Thank you very much." She's so gracious, isn't she? And probably hardly engineered this whole thing in the first place. "Oh, you could just bring back a pitcher. That would be very kind of you. Thank you." While he fetches she takes up her pen to do some more work.

H'kon bristles just a little bit, letting his pack fall to a chair, and taking a firmer hold on that cup. "I will bring you a cup of klah with nothing added." And then he's pivoting on his heel, and marching off to do the fetching with as much of his dignity as he has left. Time enough is taken to find a pitcher at a reasonable temperature, though the pickings are slim - what he does, he does well. And then it's back to the table, walking ab it more carefully so as not to slosh the drink, and depositing the cup in front of Miniyal.

Miniyal's been busy while he was gone and the stack of completed work is several hides thicker than it was before. "Thank you, sir." How polite she is being. Well, every now and again. "So, please, sit down. We'll talk. Unless you're in a hurry? I mean, you can surely sit and humor me for a short while. I haven't even got to congratulate you." Setting her pen down she takes up her cup for a sip.

H'kon gives some serious thought to the proposal, but in the end, moves his bag so that he can sit in the place it had only recently occupied. "A short while," is repeated, almost cautionary. "There are things I must accomplish before evening." But presumably nothing scheduled The bag is put on the ground, leaning up against one of his boots, and he looks pointedly to the goldrider. And to those hides. And says nothing. No conversation-starter, is H'kon.

"Wonderful. I was getting tired of hidework and this will be a nice break for me." Miniyal moves her pen and settles her cup right in front of her. She adjusts it this way and that and then leaves it be, wrapping both her hands around it for warmth. "I was just wondering, sir. You've always seemed the staid and traditional sort of man. High Reaches is rather not in favor with anyone at this point because we didn't rain fire down on Five Mines. It seemed like it wasn't the sort of environment you'd be happy in is all."

H'kon pushes himself back up against the back of his chair. "It... Arekoth was hatched here. We are not so disloyal as to run at inaction. Our... lives are here." And he's set to drumming his fingertips rhythmically along the edge of the table. A deep frown follows, he peers out toward the bowl, and then peers back to the goldrider. "That is not much in the way of congratulations." Attempted subject change.

Lifting up her cup for a sip when Miniyal sets it back down she reaches for a pastry and takes a bite so she can chew as she listens to him talk. "No, I suppose it's not. Congratulations on your promotion, sir. I'm sure you will do an admirable job. I was just curious how you felt about things. I mean, wingsecond. That's an important spot to be in and if you were feeling disloyal to High Reaches it was something I should know about. Future leader and all." Her nose wrinkles up and she grins wryly before taking another bite. "You could do a lot of good here, see? Or you could cause trouble even without trying. It's important to know where things stand."

H'kon nods his head to that, still drumming at that table, a discernable pattern forming as fingers moving, working from the outside to the inside of his hands, always with a return tap from the index finger between each motion. "I am please you are taking your future position more seriously," is added, almost with a bit of pride. As if he'd had something to do with it, maybe.

"Oh, I'm planning a take over of the Weyr, you know, sir. I'm going to rule with an iron fist and all that." Miniyal grins wryly as she speaks before taking another bite, finishing off the pastry. Again she licks her fingers and wipes them off on her pants leg. "That or I've decided to do more than I need to. I /am/ just going to be a junior weyrwoman after all. For the rest of my life. No sense getting carried away and all. However, I won't be stuck forever where I am now. Even if it seems like it. So, what do you think of what's going on?"

H'kon has, at this stage of their interaction, learned not to take Miniyal all too seriously with most of what she says. Or at least, not to do so openly. The brownrider simply nods, and increases the speed of his finger-drumming. "I think the weyrleaders must have good cause for their hesitation," he offers back after a moment of consideration. "And my focus should be on keeping the wing organised during a Fall." 'And nothing much beyond that' remains unsaid.

Once she's set her cup down again Miniyal shakes her head and smiles faintly. "I'm afraid, sir, that you can't do that anymore. You're a wingsecond. If something happened to I'valo you'd be the one to take over until someone else were picked. That means you /have/ to start doing more than just 'yes, sir or no, sir' now." Folding her hands between the cup and herself she twists her ring around on her finger. "So, if you want to maintain your rank or even move above it you have to change the way you think. And do things. Otherwise you're better off going back to being a wingrider so no one depends on you more than anyone else." Harsh, perhaps, but her tone remains calm and quiet.

H'kon narrows his eyes just a little bit at the goldrider. "There is surely good reason for the hesitation." And then he's clammed up in true H'kon fashion. Those fingers have stopped their drumming on the table, in favour of clamping down on the edge. A glance goes to the goldrider's hides, to the cup she's got before her, and finally up to Miniyal herself. Nevermind rank, H'kon looks for all the world like he's waiting to be dismissed.

"Think about what I've said, wingsecond. If you're not willing to make some changes then you might consider speaking to your wingleader or the weyrleader about where you stand here." Miniyal takes up her cup and has a drink from it before setting it back down. Reaching for her pen she pulls it and a hide in front of her. Reading it for a moment she looks up again and blinks at H'kon before smiling ever so briefly. "Don't let me keep you. Thank you very much for the klah, sir. I'm sure I'll see you around."

H'kon grinds his chair across the floor, then stands. The bag is secured roughly from the ground, and Miniyal gets a sharp nod. "I hope your ankle heals quickly," is pushed out from between barely-opened lips. And he wastes no further time in taking his leave.