Need a favor. (I'dalyn)

[blueaid]

A note, written in a particularly precise hand, was delivered by a frowning infirmary worker:

Weyrlingmaster I'dalyn,

I need a few minutes of your time, please. I will be in the infirmary in the afternoon the rest of the week. I look forward to seeing you.

Thank you,

Rivaly

True to her word, there was Rivaly in the infirmary, sitting on one of those tall stools, glasses on nose, scribbling away. The room was fairly quiet, well before colds and flus would populate beds, only a couple of children with turned ankles or sore stomachs. Smell of redwort, sound of sheets being changed-- standard infirmary fare.

[anhydrous]

Infinitely patient, the weyrlingmaster had met the frown of the messenger with a genial smile, smoothing the crease in the paper so that he might read the carefully written words. A favor was required of him. With no one around to see, he rolled his eyes.

The subject was ordinary enough, I'dalyn having had received dozens of similar requests since he gained his knots and become someone with a level of responsibility. What surprised him was the source, the name of the healer having been tied to her unreadable scrawl in the past. Sullenly he deposited a armful of hides on his desk, not exactly happy to have been interrupted and even less so by the unmistakable memory of his previous encounter with Rivaly.

As he walked across the bowl towards the lower caverns, the note was tucked into the front pocket of I’dalyn’s wherhide jacket along with the distasteful glare that the aide had so thoughtfully gifted him. Before long he was standing in the threshold of the infirmary door, blinking back tears at the sharp smell of antiseptics while he searched out his healer.

A few tentative steps forward yielded results, and he found her scribbling endlessly on a clipboard. With a voice that could hardly be considered manly or impressive, the brownrider cleared his throat and sought her attention. "You needed me?" He asked tersely, eyes roaming some point between the sharp slope of the healer's nose and the distracted wrinkle in her forehead.

[blueaid]

Rivaly held up her finger in a gesture that should be recognizable to most anyone-- just a moment, please, she's nearly finished. The pencil in hand flew in a few more hasty scribbles down the page, made a checkmark, checkmark, checkmark, and then landed in a crease when she set it down at last. That it might be deemed inconsiderate to send for someone of importance and then make him wait didn't seem to occur to the Healer, as she certainly turned to face him with a smile that showed absolutely no malice.

Apparently, when there's not a patient in question, she's capable of seeming quite pleasant. If distractable.

Rubbing the palm of of her writing-hand with the fingers of her left hand, she hopped down from the stool and answered in a please-come-in tone. "Yes, and thank you for coming so promptly, I'dalyn. I didn't necessarily mean right away, but it's very considerate of you." It could so easily be construed as buttering-up, but she seemed authentic enough in tone and expression, very little of the smarter-than-you qualities that overshadowed their first encounter.

"I need access to your weyrlings."

Which would explain all the sugar-coating, huh?

[anhydrous]

I’dalyn waited, patient as ever, while Rivaly finished her scribbling. Whatever thought was crossing his mind as her finger silenced him wasn’t made apparent in his posture, one eyebrow twitching up silently but settling before the healer would have a chance to see it.

Listening wordlessly as she thanked him in a much-improved attitude, I’dalyn let his eyebrow rise again at mention of the reason she had called him. “Access?” he repeated, suddenly very tired. Something about the manner in which this healer spoke made him feel old. After a brief pause, the brownrider added, “What does that entail?”

I’dalyn wasn’t about to just send his charges to the hands of Rivaly without good reason, especially considering the difficulties he had to endure with her in the past. They had quite a full day without forfeiting any time to anyone else, healer or otherwise.

[blueaid]

And Rivaly must know she couldn't just demand the weyrlings' precious time, hence the polite note, the effusive application of good manners, the turn-around from their initial encounter.

That I'dalyn didn't downright deny the request caught her by surprise, had her eyebrows climbing quickly and a series of rapid little blinks betraying that she'd been all braced for a much more emphatic argument right out of the gate. Poise served her well, however, and she recovered with only a moment's hesitancy, with just a brief nervous-twitch where her fingers fluttered aimlessly against one another. "Nothing nefarious, I assure you," she said as if she were making a joke out of it-- just that her sense of humor is intensely dry and her jokes aren't real knee-slappers as a result.

"I'd just like to talk to them, one-on-one. To interview them. About being a weyrling, what they did before, how they feel about being dragonriders while it's still fresh to them. --And you, of course, I'dalyn, I have list of riders to interview, but I'd like to be able to start with the weyrlings before they're too distanced from Impression. Just a little of your time and of their time really would be invaluable." Such a lovely smile, if only it wasn't laced with the reticence of more intellect than charm. So she stood there, fiddling with her fingers like someone trying to sell a bridge and not just asking for 'a little of their time.'

[anhydrous]

I'dalyn didn't say anything about Rivaly's brief and awkward loss of poise, one because it would have been rude and two because he was too intent to get to the bottom of this mess and return to the barracks. There was a mountain of work to be done in preparation for the next lessons, and he hardly had the time to waste.

His expression didn't shift as the healer smilingly reassured him, not positive that he wanted his anxieties soothed by such a person. She seemed polite enough, almost too much, but there was definitely something odd lurking just under the surface of those meticulous eyes. Silent and motionless except for the small frown gathering in a wrinkled knot on his forehead, I'dalyn tried to keep an open mind while Rivaly explained her request. Her words sounded like a cover for a very long and arduous process, not exactly something that the weyrlingmaster wanted to be involved in.

He didn't decline though, not quite yet. He knew that such an answer would only keep the woman wheedling until he changed his mind, and decided that it would be better to keep a glimmer of hope in Rivaly's mind. "You just want to talk to them?" He repeated, making sure he hadn't misheard her. This hardly required his permission, but she seemed to think that it did. Maybe it would be best to keep it that way. "While your mention of lists and interviews makes me think that this is going to take more time than you're letting on, I'll allow limited access to the class." Before she could smile and usher him out he continued, a note of severity in his tone, "But their dragons, lessons, and chores come first. And in that order." Perhaps there was a hint of irritation dashed in, but that could easily be accounted for. The health of an immature dragon was a pointed issue for this particular rider, and he didn't like it to be taken lightly.

Crossing his arms over his chest absently, I'dalyn waited for the healer to produce her spectacles, perch them on her nose, and argue further. That's what she had done last time, and although he didn't technically say it, he thought that he had made it clear that Rivaly's talks would only be allowed during his charges' free time. That would undoubtedly rub the weyrlings in question the wrong way, considering that they had so little time to themselves. It might even make them less willing to talk to her, but he didn't really care. Apparently he didn't see the value of the conversations that the healer was trying to stress.

I'dalyn also failed to offer a reply about the conversation that she meant to have with him. That definitely wasn't going to happen, not unless it was a professional query about his weyrlings, or she was naked. He smiled slightly at that particular visual.

[blueaid]

Rivaly seemed like the kind of person to whom nudity didn't exactly come naturally; in fact, she seemed like exactly the kind of person that would wear a swimsuit to a public bath-- not that she had so far, not as far as rumor was concerned, but I'dalyn was going to have to content himself with fantasies on that mark.

The spectacles stayed pocketed. For the moment. She nodded almost cheerfully in answer to "just want to talk to them," as simple as that, nothing to be alarmed about, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, that kind of nod-and-smile routine. "I have no intentions, I'dalyn, of interrupting your schedule or theirs. Quite the contrary, I'm altogether interested that there should be no disruption to the-- rigors of their training." I.e., she needed to keep the sample specimens uncontaminated. And if the weyrlings came to dislike her for impinging their precious free time? Well, she didn't need them to like her, certainly not right away.

His meticulous avoidance of his own part in all this was not lost on her. She glanced down at the tell-tale folded arms, one of those people who reads everything into body language, and she continued with her own unassuming stance-- one hand holding the other before her, shoulders turned in just a little, non-confrontational but still sans meekness. "I would like," she began again, hitting the like hard in that, "to interview you as well, I'dalyn. I know that we got off on the wrong foot, but I think it would really help if you would talk to me." Help her? Help him?

"When you have time." Like a salesman with a foot in the door.

[anhydrous]

Nodding as she, surprisingly, agreed to respect the weyrlings' schedules, I'dalyn offered his own thoughts on the matter. "You might want to conduct such conversations in the barracks," he said in monotone, no particular stress added that would make her suspicious. He doubted that she would take advantage of such an offer, but also thought she seemed the type be keen on efficiency. "It would certainly go faster that way, and there's a spare office that is empty at the moment." He neglected to mention why the room was empty, cringing inwardly as the reason came to him.

He should have offered that room to K'houry, but quite honestly, he would rather the healer be spending time there than the greenrider. It was hardly a win-loose situation, picking between the two, but at least with Rivaly in the barracks he would be close if one of the little dragons kicked up a fit at her conversational tactics. Hell, he barely resisted the urge to do such a thing, and he was a grown man. It seemed far more likely for the dragons, sensing their rider's stress, to submit to the whim.

It became apparent that he hadn't ducked his own involvement thoroughly enough when she mentioned it again, this time with a particular stress. In all honesty, I'dalyn had no intention of letting his woman speak to him on a personal level. He had heard rumors about her... maybe not reputable ones, but believable none-the-less. She wasn't just a normal healer. She was too curious, posed too many questions with intangible answers. The weyrlingmaster didn't want anyone poking about in his head and evaluating his thoughts. In fact, he shivered uncomfortably just thinking about it. The only one who deserved to be in his mind was Daisulyth, and there was little Rivaly could say to change that.

Of course, he didn't voice those thoughts. As usual, the placid brownrider gave a terse answer, shrugging slightly as he did so. "I don't think that will be necessary. I don't need any help, and I'm sure we can maintain a professional relationship despite past" he paused, one eyebrow twitching upward slightly as he searched for a word that might match the previous situation, "difficulties."

[blueaid]

Blast. Rivaly knew all at once that he knew, and it crossed her face with a pained expression that I'dalyn understood that "interview" wasn't just a turn-your-head-and-cough scenario. She exhaled audibly, and it cost her an effort to admit, "I need help, I'dalyn." She was no damsel in distress, no shrinking violet that could play up her own femininity as a means to an end, but the frank and level gaze that reached toward the brownrider's held a hint of pleading, a touch of disappointment glazed with hope.

"I understand that many people are uncomfortable with what I do, and I assure you that I don't mean to meddle with your mind. Really, that's all just a fiction anyway. If you're not broken, there wouldn't be anything for me to fix, right?" She tried on a light smile, one that attempted at levity, and shrugged her shoulders as if she could physically demonstrate just how unobtrusive she meant to be. The reticence, the denial really bothered her, something she ought to be used to by now-- a practicing Mindhealer-- but the very first person she asked?

In an effort to appeal to reason if nothing else, Rivaly added, "We won't talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. It's all very text-book, practically pre-written questions. I'm just trying to understand the dragonrider mentality, to really work on something definitive. --And I'm very competent." Pretty please? Ink-blob pictures could be so much fun?

[anhydrous]

I'dalyn noted only two things from her reply, one, that she had ignored his offer, and two, that she seemed genuinely disappointed that he was attempting to refuse. That was the first trace of any real emotion that he had seen from the woman, and it caused him to reconsider. After all, he could always refuse her questions if they breeched the line of what was not acceptable.

Visibly sighing, the weyrlingmaster prepared to make his first real sacrifice for his weyrlings. Sure, he had no free time, sure, he had to spend almost every waking moment teaching them and correcting them, but this was the first thing that he actually didn't want to do.

"I will let you interview me if you hold all the conversations with my (oh yes, he stressed it) weyrlings in the barracks, in the spare office, like I suggested." Yes, it was a compromise, but one that he assumed she would accept if any of that hope gleaming in her eyes had been genuine. If not, he would feel like a fool for believing her AND now she would be sure that he didn't at all fancy the idea of her talking to his weyrlings. It was pretty obvious, considering that his only demand would place all of the goings-on within arms reach. Trust? Hah. You had to earn it, and this healer was not yet to be trusted.

[blueaid]

Less of a blast but still-- "Really? Because I have lovely little office. It's very..." Rivaly trailed off, bit at her lip in a tricky expression that both wanted to be sure I'dalyn understood that this was a sacrifice on her part but that she wasn't going to resist over something as minute as the location for all these interviews. Her smile brightened quickly afterward, short-lived but peachy before it went off to join the other rare expressions in her arsenal.

She nodded, finding professionalism again in the terms of the agreement. Maybe I'dalyn took heart in the little show of authenticity; but, just as he didn't care to have her mucking around in his head, she didn't relish the idea of having to resort to begging-and-pleading to accomplish the barest necessities of her field. "We have a deal then. And thank you." Okay, that's genuine at least, and her smile-- relieved and surprised-- makes it plain that she expected this meeting to go much worse than it had.

"I have a list of their names. I thought I'd start with the queenrider-- Salina? She's of the least interest to me, really, but it might do her a bit of good to have someone to talk to, another woman. Given her situation." Blah blah blah, things that were all very interesting to Rivaly but undoubtedly held very little fascination for people who weren't all wrapped up in other people's heads.

[anhydrous]

I'dalyn pursed his lips as she attempted to negotiate, his posture making quite clear that it wasn't going to happen. His relief mirrored hers when she finally accepted, neither getting what they really wanted but avoiding another verbal power-struggle. "You're welcome," he said plainly, less genuine than her thanks, but appropriate. I'dalyn was a calm man with a calm demeanor. Asking things of him were only difficult if they were made difficult from the start.

When she offered him a place to respond to her plans, his level voice seemed vaguely uninterested. "Do what you'd like, but be careful." Maybe the warning would fall on deaf ears, but he felt obliged to speak it regardless. "Goldriders belong to the Weyrwoman, and Salina is Aderes' territory." How was that for some dragonrider mentality?

Inclining his head when he had spoken his part, I'dalyn gave her all the physical signs that she would need to clue her in to the fact he was done with this meeting. One foot snuck behind the other, and he looked at her expectantly to see if she needed anything else. If she didn't, he had a stack of hides in his office that were just itching to be updated.

[blueaid]

No, nothing else, just the brief look of confusion that crossed her face at I'dalyn's warning about Salina; what precisely did he think Rivaly was going to be doing to these young people?

But she chased away the concern, replaced it with the precision smile that soothed patients, reassured family members, convinced people that of course she didn't think they were totally nuts even while she wrote "totally nuts" in blessedly illegible writing all over her clipboard. She let the brownrider go without another word, withdrawing herself in turn to her counter, her stool, her own hidework.

If she entertained a secret smile, if she patted herself on the back a little, if she went about her day a touch more chipper than usual, at least she did subtly, in ways that neither I'dalyn nor anyone else would be likely to notice.

[anhydrous]

[[scene closed]]