Politics is being taught by WHO?

[Omnia Munda]

Although I'll be gone for almost two weeks starting this weekend, anhydrous and I agreed this thread could start now and it can either continue without me or wait for me. Sorry if the latter turns out to be true. But here goes! -OM


"Weyr structure," mumbled R'sen. The greenling was standing with a hand atop Ptolemeth's head, fingers idly scratching the not-quite-right spot between her browridges while she moved beneath him to try to get the right spot scritched. Her rider was answering the question W'fen had asked regarding what they'd gathered to learn; the brownriding weyrling had been paying less than perfect attention during the announcement the day before of upcoming lessons for the sevenday.

"And - good manners or something," replied W'fen, rubbing knuckles into his eyes. It wasn't early so much as early enough that weyrlings who'd been up with sleepless dragons - or up using their dragons to chitchat amongst themselves into the wee hours - were still bleary-eyed. The more bushy-tailed of the weyrlings, including R'sen, had already eaten breakfast.

"Etiquette," R'sen corrected. "I heard something about the bronzeriders having to do more of that later on, but I guess we're all supposed to shine ourselves up at least once." His grin crooked cocky and his green bumped his hand with her head, impatient for corrected scratching.

Other weyrlings, some single and some with dragons attendant, were clustering around the end of the barracks designated for indoor lessons like this one, and a low murmur of chatter was ready to fall silent should I'dalyn appear to begin instruction.

But it wasn't I'dalyn who first appeared. Through the entrance from the bowl came a different rider, not too tall but full of swagger, a tiny ego on legs. He was grinning; he had a hand ready to return salutes as he approached the weyrlings. He was J'fel, the boy weyrleader.

"This should be good," muttered R'sen, and then beamed brightly, the perfect naïf, while tossing off a quick salute.

[Invisible]

Volsteath always made sure K’mar was up early. Not that he had to try hard. K’mar was used to getting up early and in weyrlinghood it was even more important. His wine habit had not disappeared, but it was certainly even more secret than before. So, while other weyrlings still slept he was up for a drink or three in the morning before Volsteath demanded breakfast. He was one of the first to arrive for the lesson with his brown at his side. While he was by no means the life of a party K’mar had at least tried to form an association with the other weyrlings. At Volsteath’s request, sure, but it was an effort.

As the brown settled down into a spot that was his and twice the size of space he needed K’mar looked at the others present and nodded to each. He was never quite sure how his brown managed it, but he seemed to be able to double in size, or at least give that air, to be sure his personal space was as much as any other dragon regardless of relative size. Once he was settled the sneaky brown sent out perfectly polite and proper greetings to his clutchsibs already present.

When the Weyrleader entered the room the dragon came to attention and watched the small man with steady whirling eyes. Pay attention, K’mar. And be sure we look good. This is our chance to make an impression. We mustn’t look poorly.[/color] Following his dragon’s advice K’mar straightened up and offered his own salute to J’fel.

[neopanther]

Ez’ki had managed to actually attend this lesson, he was listening, attentively – well, as best he could with his bonded being particularly difficult, this early morn. He was restless, and over tired, the blue hadn’t slept all that much last night, because he had napped too long during the day, and it was the last time Ez’ki would let him do it, he was pretty tired himself now because of it.
The blue was curled up upon himself, as though he were about to fall asleep, but his eyes were open, facing forward towards the new, older dragons who were presented before them. His neck stretched forward, and his mind, hyperactive, and grumpy.

He was not lying still for long, he found himself uncomfortable, stood, turned around sat down, before deciding that wasn’t it either, and returning to lying down again.
Would you stay still, please, Xyruth? You’re agitation is making me ancy. He said with rather tired tone, he was too tired to be dealing with this, he’d already been dealing with it for about five hours in the last nightfall! Why did he have to do it now?
Sorry Ez’ki-mine, but, I do feel very tired,[/i] The blue yawned, teeth gleaming as they caught the sun.
Maybe so, but if you sleep now, you’ll get out of routine. Ez’ki forced upon his young bonded, it was snow he was having to say no, the blue didn’t like it. He huffed angrily, and turned away from his bonded, closing his eyes.
Xyr. Xyr...Xyruth. Wake up.
The blue huffed, his features tightened as he got up and in mean temper nipped at Ez’ki’s dangling hand. Ez’ki swiftly pulled away from the blue.
Pack it in! Shards, it’s for you good as much as it is mine. Believe me there’s nothing more I’d like to be able to do, than let you sleep when you want to sleep, but, I can’t because you’ll not sleep again tonight. So stop it, and please do as I tell you. he told his dragon with affirm and authorative tone, that was almost completely alien to Ez’ki.

And just as though Ez’ki’s day couldn’t get any better. Now that young, arrogant, self-assured Weyrleader, was swaggering about their lessons like he owned the place – well he did, practically, but that was neither here nor there in Ez’ki’s mind. All he knew was the Weyrleader had power, and perhaps a mildly pretty face – in a few peoples warped minds. Ez gritted his teeth on seeing the Weyrleader, gave a half hearted, barely present salute to the boy before continuing. J’fel was his age. So he had been impressed a few turns longer, but he was parading around with such an enormous ego... it made Ez Mad. Not just because of what he was doing to Salina, but, generally. At least – so he thought, not realising that the same features he was picking on within J’fel, were qualities of himself, though it was easy to insult another for your own sins, wasn’t it?

[blueaid]

Asleep. That's where Z'dayi was when J'fel came into the barracks with his swagger and his returned-salute. At the edge of the room, below the horizon of the gathering cluster, he's out-of-sight (out-of-mind?) with nothing but a very quiet snore to betray his whereabouts. The wall behind him supported his back, and his legs were stretched out across the floor, and he actually looked quite comfortable-- for someone who hadn't had enough sleep and was supposed to be attending a lecture.

Salutes fired off, but none from sleeping beauty over there.

Also on the fringe of the room, far more attentive, Tremaith was the polar opposite of his dozing rider. Awake, watching J'fel enter with a tilt of his head that was almost comically human in its inquisitive intent, the bronze dragonet sent out a tendril of thought toward Volsteath, toward Xyruth. Without words, the question formed: Confusion. The hazy concept of the Weyrleader... the image of the barracks... the sense of juxtaposition-- the one doesn't really make sense with the other. And, turning his head to look between his clutchsiblings, Tremaith added an afterthought: Questioning Xyruth and Volsteath, looking for common ground on this matter. J'fel giving a lesson makes any sense to them?

[anhydrous]

I’dalyn followed not far behind his swaggering counterpart; his entrance ordinary and insignificant compared to the weyrleader’s. The brownrider took little note of this, standing beside J’fel and glancing around the barracks with the slightest frown.

Not all the weyrlings were here yet, but that was to be expected. A few stragglers would be rolling in from breakfast any time now, their surprise added to the general consensus at the sight of the weyrleader taking the lead in what was assumed to be a boring classroom lesson.

What earned his frown was the multitude of tired eyes, one lad in the back actually sleeping while his attentive little dragon stared about eagerly. For Faranth’s sake, it wasn’t that early. Apparently he hadn’t fully stressed the importance of a full night’s sleep. No doubt they would learn it soon, but perhaps a little extra encouragement could be added. Extra laps around the bowl in the evening to add another layer of physical exhaustion? He shrugged inwardly, taking a seat up against the wall to wait for the rest of the weyrlings to arrive.

As soon as he reminded the class that the lessons were indeed mandatory and that sleeping during them was going to get them extra chores, I’dalyn was going to take a back seat and let J’fel take over this lesson. The class had been seeming to forget that the weyrlingmaster was not the only person they needed to listen to, and what better way to remind them than to allow one of said individuals do a bit of his dirty work?

Glancing towards the weyrleader and offering him a chair to await the rest of the class, I’dalyn tried to catch Tremaith’s confused little stare and get him to rouse his rider.

[Invisible]

The sleepy and sleeping weyrlings earned a look of disdain from K’mar. It was not that hard to be up early. They were going to look like idiots and K’mar was happy enough that he was not one of them. We will never look like idiots, K’mar. Because we are not. Let the others be in trouble. We will slip quietly in the shadows and they will never know.[/color] K’mar stretched out a hand so he could rest it atop Volsteath for a moment and then pulled it back. He did not bother to look around at the other weyrlings. They would either be paying attention or not.

Volsteath exchanged few words with the other dragons preferring to never speak too much. It was easier to not speak rather than have to explain oneself later. At Tremaith’s inquiry Volsteath turned his attention towards the bronze. It is hardly surprising he is here. Likely he is measuring us all up. To see whom might be in line for better things after we graduate. A good impression is key. Best to pay attention. Oh. Your rider is sleeping? That is not good.[/color] Volsteath sounds so concerned and his voice dips low enough that no hint of secret party is evident. It’s all smooth shadowy concern for the bronze’s rider and the bronze himself.

At a nudging from his brown K’mar began to make his way to where Z’dayi slept. His intent was likely to try to wake his fellow weyrling up. Even if he failed he would look like he was trying to help out a fellow. That counted as much as actually doing something. Looking like you were doing something. Another important lesson from Volsteath.

[Xinnai]

Salina was standing off slightly from the center of the barrack walls, Deoneth at her side. The two appeared immaculate as always though the junior weyrwoman was looking a bit bleary-eyed. She passed a hand over her face, pushing at her hair and then letting it fall once more across her forehead in a sweep of softly muted gold. The motion did nothing to help stir her further towards wakefulness.

The last few nights, Deoneth had been restless and the effects were beginning to show on her rider. Restless, itchy, unable to sleep, the queen had kept Salina up for hours the last three nights running. Thank Faranth, the night before she had slipped peacefully into oblivion and allowed Salina the same. But they were both just the slightest bit worn.

The goldrider allowed herself to snatch a look at Ez'ki, sitting there and looking more haggard than she. She toyed briefly with the feather in her pocket, debating about speaking to the other rider, when the entrance of someone made the others stir into motion, salutes rising and falling. She pushed off from the wall she'd been using as a slight support and then saw who it was striding into the room, pumped full of confidence and seeming to infect the others. It was none other than J'fel. The Weyrleader.

Salina twitched and drew back, gray eyes suddenly avid and much more alert. She brushed hesitantly at the soft brown pants she wore, not used to the commodity and watched as the Weyrlingmaster I'dalyn followed J'fel in, appearing much more inconspiculously. Salina edged forward slightly, feet drifting across the ground. Deo followed, glancing at her rider for a moment.

Xyruth's Mine is right. You do like the Weyrleader. Mine Salina...Is that really very wise? He has the Weyrwoman...

The girl frowned, slightly exasperated. It wasn't as if she were in love with the man, merely interested. So why did all sorts of disapprovement come raining down on her?

It's okay, dear heart. It's not as if we are weyrmates at all. You are right. He has Aderes. But...the Weyr gossip is saying their relationship is merely one-sided. She shrugged, nonchalant. She really didn't care. What was flirtation? What was the idea of future meetings? Besides, this was a class, not any sort of secret meeting. It wasn't as if he could do anything while he was teaching.

Could he?

[blueaid]

Z'dayi started in his slumber at the sound of the Weyrlingmaster's voice. It was a tell-tale jerk, a sudden awakening, complete with a quick intake of breath.

No, it wasn't painfully early, and he ought to be acclimated to the rigors of his schedule by now. But twenty-two Turns of dedicated slacking-off rebelled against the sudden change of pace. His eyes focused blearily on the backs of the other weyrlings' legs, their feet, all that was visible down where he slumped.

About the time a fellow weyrling took it in his head to (pretend to) wake him up, Z'dayi slid his back up the wall and found his feet. His smile went sheepishly toward the front of the room.

So much disgust for the disinterested, so much belief that Z'dayi can do more-- be more if he only tries.

[Omnia Munda]

One might get the impression that J'fel was taking stock of his weyr's newest riders. It didn't stop him from grinning; it didn't stop him from flicking off little fingertip salutes to those who saluted him. But to be sure, his eyes were shifting quickly from side to side, his focus darting from a sleeping body here (Z'dayi: disapproved) to a straight-backed at-attention there (K'mar: a nod earned). Still, his expression remained jovial and if he noticed things like Ez'ki's displeasure and R'sen's skepticism, he made no sign of it.

He took the chair I'dalyn offered but elected, evidently, to use it for leaning a hand on rather than sitting in. It kept him taller, standing; maybe he was conscious of the effect. It would do while he waited for I'dalyn's scolding to end.

[anhydrous]

I’dalyn leaned back in his chair, feet crossed at the ankle while he clucked disapprovingly at his gathered weyrling class. “I see a plethora of weary eyes, my little darlings,” he said lazily, gaze settling on no one in particular.

“Do you know what that tells me?” He continued to let his eyes roam about the room, letting the inquiry hang in the air sardonically. By the time he had answered his own question, most of the life had drained from his voice. “You haven’t been practicing enough restraint in your bonds.” Brushing one hand against his nose casually, he settled his features into an amiable position and took up his gentler reprimand.

“You all need to work on coercing your dragons into doing what is appropriate: for now, that means sleeping during the night so that you can get your own rest. They don’t know what is best for them, and it is your job to inform them.” His plain calm personality had returned, ever patient, ever reassuring. “They’ll learn soon enough to mind you, but I’m afraid it is going to get worse before it gets better.”

With a vague gesture in the weyrleader’s direction, I’dalyn’s mood and tone lifted incrementally. “J’fel will be teaching your lesson today. I shouldn’t even have to say this, but treat him with respect.” Idly grasping from his repertoire of mild threats, the weyrlingmaster uttered one last bit before settling boredly into his chair to watch the proceedings.

“Missing and or sleeping during lessons is prohibited, and you’ll be out running ‘round the bowl in the dark if I catch anyone with their tired little eyes shut during this lecture.” With an insincere smile shot in Z'dayi’s direction, I’dalyn blinked an over-exaggerated handful of times and then nodded to the weyrleader. His scolding was done.

[Invisible]

Since Z’dayi woke up on his own K’mar stopped trying to head his way. Instead he returned back to where Volsteath was and then turned his attention to what I’dalyn was saying. What he was saying did not mean anything to K’mar since Volsteath was quite willing to sleep in the night. Since he liked to be up early to get a head start on what could be his during the day he slept through the night. Oh, sure, like waking at the crack of dawn or sooner was any better, but at least K’mar was able to not appear drowsy in lessons. How embarrassing for those who did. Clearly they were substandard riders to be. It did not matter so much to K’mar since it only meant he would look better, but really. Coming from a weyrling class of slackers was not something to be desired.

After taking his spot up once more K’mar turned his attention to J’fel. He had better at least look to be paying attention to everything said. You should pay attention, K’mar. We must have good questions to ask when the time comes. Are there not always questions?[/color] K’mar internalized his groan. He didn’t really want to pay attention. But Volsteath was right, as always. So even though he could have spent the time thinking of something, anything, else, he gave J’fel his full attention.

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel used the time it took for I'dalyn to complete his lecture to let his laconic gaze drift over the weyrlings assembled. Did his mouth twitch in its corner to see Telgar's new weyrwoman among the others? His eyes made a show of admiring Deoneth instead, his chin tipping up to give him an incrementally different perspective on the little queen's color and shape. Of course a weyrleader would have an interest in inspecting his weyr's newest gold: with her lay the future. He had every reason to take this opportunity for a good, long look.

His thoughts, of course, ran more toward the potential held by the young queen's rider, but what weyrleader wouldn't, in such a situation, think a little bit about the uses to which his junior weyrwomen might be put?

'Restraint in your bonds... treat him with respect.' I'dalyn was taking after his father in some ways and not so much in others, and distracted as he was J'fel was not incapable of noticing or appreciating the similarities and the differences. He was a little tough, a little strict, a little wordy. J'fel found himself wondering if he often seemed the same? Perhaps it was the nature of their leadership, youthful as it was. It was a possibility that deserved more thought and perhaps the advisement of his senior weyrwoman.

As the idea of a long evening spent enjoying Aderes' tutelage began to take shape in the leaning young man's mind he heard I'dalyn winding up his remarks. With the weyrlingmaster's little nod in the edge of his peripheral vision, J'fel straightened, smiled, and addressed the weyrlings assembled.

"Your weyrlingmaster's been so good as to let me come in and have a few words on the subject of weyr structure - political and rank structure, that is. I can't speak to the rocks."

It wasn't really intended as a joke, the aside about rocks; J'fel cast it off with a shrug of indifference, as though he thought it perfectly plausible one or more of his weyrling audience might have truly expected him to talk about geology and architecture.

"And we'll talk about etiquette some today, too. Maybe that's to help you feel inspired to new heights of good behavior."

The weyrleader's agile brows raised high, lending him a certain wittily wry seeming much older than his age. That was, apparently, a joke - a very dry one, at the expense of weyrlings too recently roused from slumber.

"But structure, first. I certainly hope you're all clear on the basics. The Weyrwoman's queen rises; he whose bronze flies her is weyrleader. Junior weyrwomen perform appropriate duties and other bronzeriders lead wings or help lead wings or simply try to prove themselves able leaders for the future." This was all offered with a little flip of one hand, almost dismissive. "The headwoman assists the Weyrwoman and the caverns staff answer to her. But of all of you, even the most holdbred, those searched from the farthest hole-in-a-hill cot should know this already."

J'fel was grinning now. "So why don't we establish what you want to know and talk about that. Maybe you want to know how rank affects an individual rider's relations with holdfolk. Maybe you want to know more about the politics between Weyrs, not just inside our own." His shoulders twitched a hint of a shrug. "I bet someone here wants to know a quick route to attaining rank," said the weyrleader, his eyes bright, well aware of the irony in his words.

"Anyone awake enough to have some ideas?"

And on that, J'fel at last sank into the chair, propping one leg up on the other knee and overturning his hands to indicate the floor was open. He did not quite dare to corner a glance at I'dalyn. All he wanted was to hope the weyrlingmaster would let him go on in this fashion for at least a little while.

[blueaid]

Ill-advised, certainly, but Z'dayi found his feet and met the Weyrlingmaster's smile with a cheap grimace, a swallowed yawn. The comment about running laps stretched his lips to a smirk while the yawn dissipated, and it was obvious where his thoughts went with that punishment in mind: not a solution!

Still, he was cognizant enough by now to turn his attention dutifully to J'fel. In the back of his mind, a resonse to the look he received from I'dalyn, the Tremaith sent forth his opinion to his rider. Should be attentive, awake, approved of. He can feel the Weyrlingmaster's unhappiness, and he passes it to Z'dayi unchecked. Shape up, slacker.

[Xinnai]

Salina drifted forwards, towards a seat about Ez. She sent him a look before she hooked a chair and sat down, cloth-encased legs folding one over the other as she leaned back into the wood, hands folding into her lap as she sat, facing Weyrlingmaster and Weyrleader with a carefully neutral expression, all meek earnestness, as she watched them. Deoneth folded to lay on the ground much like a cat, her opalescent eyes avid and wide awake.

Salina listened to the lecture from I'dayln and then glanced down at her gold, lips twisting wryly. Did you hear that, love?

I heard it. I also heard that it's your fault.[/color]

My fault? One eyebrow rose as the girl gave a mental chuckle. It's yours, dear heart,
from wearing yourself out at night night rather than day. I think maybe we should run laps around the bowl, if only for you.

Deoneth gave a very unladylike snort, her tail twitching as she glanced up at her bonded. I? No, I think you are wrong, Mine Salina. You'd be left in the dust.

Oh, really now? Salina laughed lightly, face alight with humor as she turned back towards the two instructors. She carefully schooled herself to look the student once more, but it was hard. She loved having such conversations with Deoneth. It was like having your best friend in your head, with no need for scribbled notes on hide or whispered secrets. At the thought, she glanced towards Ez'ki once more and sighed. Best friends.

Her attention was snapping back as I'dayln finished his lecture and J'fel stepped forward. Salina leaned farther back in her chair, arms crossing over the light blue shirt she wore, trying to view the Weyrleader objectively.

What was it that made him so appealingly? He was by no means tall. To her, maybe, but then again everyone seemed tall compared with her. She bit at the inside of her cheek, gray eyes sweeping over him critically. His hair was uncontrollable, untamed and his eyes were roving, often towards too many women for her taste. There was freedom and then there was philandering. He was young, yes, and his face twisted with expression. So...she didn't think it was his looks, however great he thought they were.

It was his confidence, his insurmountable ego and the way he filled a room, made himself seem taller and more in control than he perhaps was. He was charismatic, that was for certain, and he dealed with charms in spades.

She sighed, ill at ease, his words drifting in and throughout her head, though she started a little bit when he spoke the words "junior weyrwoman", her eyes jumping to his face, but she relaxed, realizing it was merely just a reference to her duties.

You know, Deoneth butted in smoothly. He was watching me and trying to appear to not watch you while he did.[/i]

What? Salina glanced down at her dragon, slightly shocked. You're serious?

Deoneth didn't bother to comment on that. She just glanced back at her rider, golden head rising enough for the girl to see one eye roll in exasperation. She sighed, head tossing, thinking about it for a moment, looking back at J'fel from the corner of an eye before she shrugged and put it aside.

She listend to the rest of the Weyrleader's introduction and slight lecture rather absentmindedly, foot kicking idly as it was prone to do. She refocused on the lecture at hand, dreamy gray eyes coming back to reality, when he ended with asking them what she knew. She held her tongue, waiting for someone to speak and then sighed.

"The Weyrwoman and Weyrleader are leaders of the Weyr," she recited dutifully. "The Weyrwoman handles all domestic duties and the Weyrleader the military. Beneath them are the junior Weyrwoman and Weyrleader. They proceed the seniors after they pass beyond between. If there is more than one junior queen, the senior Weyrwoman chooses her successor. It is usually the queen who shows signs of rising before the others. After that, rank goes bronze, brown, blue and green." She shrugged, a gentle movement, head listing slightly to the side as she finished.

[neopanther]

Oh look at them, so eager to please, shards but if they jumped on the band wagon with the banner saying ‘praise J’fel for he is the next great’ any sooner, they’d impale themselves upon the blunt shapeless wood that fashioned the cart. He shook his head, how could anyone be so sharding ass-kissing? So he was the Weyrleader!

Ez’ki grimaced, it seemed this entire event was going to be painful, and Z’dayi was already being picked on, Ez’ki leaned over a little towards the bronze weyrling, “Watch yourself, I’d fear for what those two could do to make your life a living hell.” He remarked, a slight smirk lining his features. But Ez’ki’s eyes never left J’fel, and not in adoration, or ambition, or even rivalry like some, Ez’ki’s was distaste. He disliked the Weyrleader. Because of Sassie, yes. But that was neither here nor there at this moment.

All that was there was J’fel, and I’dalyn, I’dalyn he could tolerate, the man was logical, perhaps unnecessarily strict, but logical. Ez’ki listened – begrudgingly. But the Weyrleader was currently spieling off over some really irrelevant matter of rocks. Sorry? Was that supposed to be funny? Then he moved on, if the man was trying to win them over with a few half hearted jibes, it really wasn’t going to work.

Ez’ki leant back against the wall, finding it a chore to keep himself upright in the presence of such a boring being. Then the floor came to a weyrling’s questions, upon politics, and etiquette. Ez’ki looked around him, tongue burning to ask whether it was ‘etiquette’ for the Weyrleader to mindlessly flirt with a junior Weyrwoman, and further his question by commenting on how it was surely disadvantageous to a Weyrleader to try and become a junior Weyrleader, but then of course, that wasn’t the case if he just wished to maintain both positions, but he could see I’dalyn watching, he knew that if he asked that, he would be joining Z’dayi in those laps of the bowl at dark. And likely much worse would be in store also if Ez’ki decided to ask.

So the flame haired teen settled to his distaste for now, but if the man continued to bore him senseless with mindless jokes about rocks, or something he would have to liven the place up.

It seemed during the boring moments that had just begun, Xyruth had drifted to sleep, Ez’ki nudged him with his foot, Wake up. Do not make me tolerate this on my own.

ngff... wha? The blue replied, dreary and sullen for a change,

I said stay awake. Shards...

But he’s boring mine....
[/i] The blue whined.
You can say that again. Ez’ki thought with a grouch.