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Post by Omnia Munda on Jul 29, 2008 12:36:47 GMT -8
J'fel's weyr was a little less dressed up than it was sometimes - or at least than it had been one time - but then, the girl he was awaiting today was no harper.
What must the headwoman's staff think, being called upon time after time to decorate the weyrleader's chambers, tidy his things and deliver drinks? The man must spend as much time entertaining as he did palling around with his wingmates after the games. Nevertheless, they were obliged - and so the main room had been treated to a cleaning and a tidying, a tiny fire had been lit to chase off the little chills of summer evenings in the northern mountains, and warm cake accompanied cold cider to welcome the weyrleader's guest.
What the staff thought of him was not foremost in J'fel's mind just now, anyway. He was draped lazy in one of the two deep leather-upholstered chairs (they came with the knot, as did the weyr) beside the fire, a glass of cider careless in the circle of his hand. In the other hand he held a letter he'd received: Genet's apology for her ill-mannered behaviour at the feast sevens ago, and her plead to meet with him. If they could only speak, she wrote, surely they'd both feel better.
I have no doubt of that, mused J'fel, smirking, tingling at the thought. And there'd be no complaints from Jordeth, either - the girl had been a candidate, but she was of no great consequence now. He could almost taste her.
He'd written back, naturally. His invitation had been most polite. He expected her any time. While he waited, he tried to recall exactly what the girl looked like.
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Post by Alsivor on Jul 29, 2008 12:51:01 GMT -8
In spite of the serious nature of their visit to the Weyrleader, Silvio engaged in the same sort of comfortable banter he'd struck up with Genet previously for the walk over to the proper ledge. He'd dressed up a little for this meeting wearing a more somber colored vest than that which he usually favored, charcoal gray with shiny buttons over his garnet-hued shirt, the vest a close match to fancifully embroidered trousers. They'd caught a few interested stares as they crossed the Bowl together, but Silvio only grinned disarmingly back at anyone looking their way.
And here they were on the threshhold. He took a deep breath and turned towards his companion. "Ready? Here's hoping for answers," the young Caminar told Genet as he squared his shoulders to enter the weyr.
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Post by Invisible on Jul 29, 2008 13:06:02 GMT -8
The letter, as she’d composed it, had been a brilliant idea. Genet had been unsure of getting an audience with J’fel in an official capacity, but judging by what she knew a more personal audience would be easy to acquire. The fact he might be annoyed at the subterfuge was not a concern of hers. Perhaps it should have been, but once a plan entered her mind it was hard to set it aside. In her mind catching him off guard would be good. They’d have the upper hand.
The walk across the bowl with Silvio was interesting and she did her best to ignore the looks from other people. Maybe, in some dark mean part of her brain, she was thrilled to be showing up at J’fel’s weyr with an equally attractive man. Even if he thought the wrong thing at first. Well, no plan was perfect. She had considered, and then discarded, the idea of wearing the shawl she’d bought from the Caminar. The statement it made might have been wrong. Instead she wore her best dress, which was not so great but what could you do? Her only concession was to leave her hair unbound from its usual braids. Besides, the amber hanging from her throat was ornament enough.
Her nerves she suppressed so she might be good company. Again she wondered if she ought to have told Silvio exactly how she’d arranged the meeting. Well, it was too late now standing outside the weyr, wasn’t it? “Oh, we’ll get answers,” she answered back with a determined tone to accompany her slightly nervous smile. The part of her brain dedicated to survival reminded her that this was probably not one of her better ideas. Well, nothing to do for it now, right? To the door she delivered a hesitant knock. The sort of knock she thought a girl in her situation would give. It fit well with her actual situation as well as the false one. Knocking was polite. It was the least she could do.
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Post by Omnia Munda on Jul 29, 2008 20:02:37 GMT -8
J'fel heard the knock. He did not hear a man's voice on the other side of the door; he was not precisely listening for voices, and he did not expect to hear any voice other than, perhaps, Genet's.
Hers was a voice that could be sweet, if he remembered right - except that her manner at the feast had lent it an anxious, even angry edge. As he rose from his chair and strode to the door, the cider still hung lazy in the curl of his hand, he wondered if she'd been drunk.
Just as well not to have anything more intense than the cider, then, he thought as he opened the door, and then his mind conveniently voided itself of all coherent thought.
The weyrleader stood with the handle of his door in hand, blinking. He wore just enough of the costume of a dragonrider - the sturdy trousers that went with the leathers - to make his identity (he thought) unmistakable, but his shirt was of a soft, shining weave and left open halfway down the chest. He was looking at Silvio most curiously.
And then his wits came to him. It was apparent first in the loft of a coy brow and the curl of a bemused lip. "Genet," he said, eyes still on the Caminar man she'd arrived beside. He hadn't really looked at the girl at all; only peripheral vision proved to him that she was there. Still, his voice was for her, and now it pitched low and droll. "You brought a chaperone."
J'fel backed up and put his shoulder to the door, then stretched out an arm to welcome his guests inside, expression still taken aback.
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Post by Alsivor on Jul 29, 2008 20:28:34 GMT -8
Creak. The door opened and Silvio took in the sight of the Weyrleader and his eyes stopped at that middle button of the man's shirt. The next thing that happened was that the Caminar had to try not to smirk as he recognized the blank expression on the dragonrider's face. His gaze slid sidelong to Genet taking in the lines of her face and he had to bite on the inside of his cheek to keep from howling with laughter. J'fel clearly, was not expecting him and just as clearly was expecting something from Genet. The weyrleader's next words confirmed it, but he manfully mastered his laughter and offered the young woman his arm.
"Good day, sir, I can't say I can lay claim to that title, but thank you for agreeing to meet with us."
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Post by Invisible on Jul 30, 2008 6:00:39 GMT -8
When the door opened and Genet caught sight of J’fel she was left to wonder once more about her strategy. It had not been fair, even if the Weyrleader deserved to see not everyone was going to succumb to his charms. A small part of her mind wondered how many women would be jealous of her right now. In the company of two attractive and charming men it was many a girl’s dream. Genet, never having had much use for the charming ones, was only nervous. Still, it brought to mind other situations involving less charming men and she was distracted for a moment thinking of one of those. The tiny smile that crept upon her had nothing to do with Silvio or J’fel although they had no way of knowing it. Giving her head a shake to dislodge thoughts of a man not here she cleared her throat.
It was then she noticed the arm offered to her and she took it so she might step inside with Silvio. However once they were in she separated herself from the Caminar man and stood on her own. “Indeed, thank you for seeing us, sir.” Mustering up every last bit of proper manners beaten into her by a frustrated mother she even managed an awkward curtsy. “Weyrleader, if I might present to you Silvio. Silvio, the Weyrleader J’fel.” Introductions done she couldn’t keep the smirk off her lips although she banished it quite quickly. Should she jump in with her reason for being here? Or would it be more polite to let the men greet each other? The latter she decided and held her tongue for now.
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Post by Omnia Munda on Jul 30, 2008 11:27:52 GMT -8
J'fel was too dignified to be bothered with buttoning the shirt, and when he closed the door after his guests it gave him a chance with his back turned to work up a facial expression that wasn't quite so startled. The door snicked shut and the weyrleader turned around, expression more coy in its bemusement than before, to receive introductions.
"Silvio," he repeated after Genet, and offered a hand for the Caminar - and have no doubt that J'fel saw quite clearly that heritage in the fellow's features; it was that which kept the youth's thick brow raised - to clasp in greeting. "What an unexpected pleasure."
The other hand offered both the girl he'd hoped for and the man he hadn't to the chairs by the fire. "Help yourselves to the cider," he said, though there was only one glass left unpoured. "I'll get us another chair."
He smirked, more at Genet than at Silvio; there was a gleam in his eyes that meant to show the girl she was not, by any means, off the hook. "Then you can enlighten me as to the nature of your visit."
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Post by Alsivor on Jul 30, 2008 12:03:59 GMT -8
Silvio smiled down at Genet, the humor still dancing in his eyes about the set up. If anything, he was impressed by the young woman's daring. While J'fel was otherwise occupied, he mouthed a silent: "Nice job," to her then made much of straightening his face and looking serious and dire for the return of the Weyrleader. He took the offered hand and shook it firmly. "It is an honor, Weyrleader," he answered very properly, manners at the fore. "I believe you know my family already, at least my sister." He left it at that for now accepting the offer of drinks with equal politeness: "Thank you, sir," and headed for the cider, very deliberately turned over another glass to fill and held one up for Genet.
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Post by Invisible on Jul 30, 2008 12:29:57 GMT -8
Right at that moment Genet was of conflicting minds. Part of her was stuck on the look from the Weyrleader. What she had done was risky, she knew, but it stood the best chance of winning her what she wanted. Never did she expect to get away with it free of repercussions. Genet just hoped she could handle whatever those repercussions were. The worry filtered in, but was overshadowed by Silvio’s approval of her scheme. She felt a sort of kinship with the Caminar since they were united in their desire to get to the truth of their missing siblings. He got a cheeky grin in return for his silent words before she tried to look more serious.
When Silvio handed her a glass she nodded her thanks and then looked at the chairs. Most likely, she thought, that’ll be the most comfortable chair I’ll ever sit in. With that in mind she went ahead and took a seat for herself. “I’ve always thought lucky coincidences silly things,” she said to the room in general. “So imagine my surprise when I ran into Silvio while shopping. The both of us with our own concerns that turned out to match up so equally. It seemed unfair for me to get answers and him to be left in the dark.” Completely unsaid was the fact that she expected there to be answers now. Even Genet would not threaten a weyrleader even slightly. It would be left to him to decide it would be best to answer their questions. Although prodding him along was not out of the question.
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Post by Omnia Munda on Jul 30, 2008 13:18:47 GMT -8
For a moment, J'fel looked at Silvio. Sister, he thought, and determined to have an answer shortly. "Excuse me," he said for now, and went after the promised chair.
The third chair came from within the alcove that contained the weyrleader's bed, separated from the main room by curtain. So he vanished for a few seconds, and returned with the thing in hand. It was not plush and leather-upholstered like the others; it was one of the simple wooden sort that so many riders had near their beds, a place to sit when lacing one's boots if one's leathers weren't fit to touch the furs.
J'fel carried the chair easily, its back held in one hand and its legs barely off the floor. He'd heard what Genet said - the curtain was not so thick as to have any chance of muffling sound - but he acted a bit like he hadn't. "The sabedoria," he said as naturally as though he were Caminar himself, and put the chair down with the others. There was a flash of a curious expression on his face, but the young weyrleader banished it promptly with a grin. "Aleda's quite a woman. When she's returned perhaps she could take up chaperoning Genet in your stead."
The weyrleader was not too good to sit in the wooden chair. He turned it beneath his hand and sank into it with animal artistry, lifting a leg over the other so he could fold his hands perfectly atop a knee. Off-guard he might be, but he'd not be caught out of his element. At last he turned his smile to Genet herself: "Why not just share with him, then, and save me the time taken in repeating myself?"
Another weyrleader might ask this question in a leading, pointed way, as though he wished to impress upon the girl how precious his time was. J'fel's manner was similar, but the point was very different: couldn't they both be spending their time more productively than this? Nevertheless, hope of shedding the 'chaperone' and bedding Genet was growing dim in the bronzerider's heart.
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Post by Alsivor on Jul 30, 2008 14:55:23 GMT -8
Silvio settled comfortably into the other upholstered chair with his glass held in one hand and had a little sip of the cider. He crossed one leg over the other and adopted a relaxed posture that belied the serious nature of their visit to the Weyrleader. "I'm sure Genet has no need of a chaperone," he answered J'fel with an amused quirk of his lips and had a little more of what was really, a very excellent beverage. "When she returns," he echoed softly and fixed what he meant as a penetrating look on the other man. "I take it then that you know when my sister will be back and where she has gone? Because my father and all of my family in fact, are very very worried about what has happened to her."
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Post by Invisible on Jul 30, 2008 15:25:46 GMT -8
“I hardly need someone to keep an eye on me,” Genet said with little scowl she couldn’t entirely suppress. It felt like speaking to her parents for a second. The thought had to be banished because it accomplished nothing. Her cider went untouched because if she did not leave it so she would down it all and that wasn’t the sort of image she wanted to give. She was not nervous. Much. At all.
Pushing aside the words that did not pertain to the subject at hand Genet cleared her throat. “If something has happened to them we deserve to know.” It was her worst fear, that G’tet had been killed and the weyrleader was trying to hide his involvement. There had been a weird feeling in her stomach for a month now and she couldn’t think of any other reason than that something was wrong with G’tet. They had never been apart like this. Even during his weyrlinghood he had sent her letters until he could go back to see her again.
It was that fear that had driven her to this. To lying and deceiving and winding up in the very last place she ever wanted to be. “It’s been two months. Do you think no one has noticed? A wingleader and a wingsecond.” She had asked a lot of questions to learn what she did. She thought she had them all, but couldn’t be sure. “G’tet and another greenrider. And Aleda. You can’t keep this quiet much longer.”
It was not a threat. Genet did not sound like she was threatening because she knew how to sound like that. While she might threaten her fellow hold kids she would not dare do so to a weyrleader. Unless it came to that. One hand fiddled briefly with her pendant before she looked from Silvio to J’fel. “I don’t think you want to deal with the trouble that is coming, sir.”
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Post by Omnia Munda on Jul 30, 2008 15:53:45 GMT -8
J'fel's replying gaze to Silvio was cool at best. "I know where she has gone, and on what purpose, and with good riders to keep her safe." Including one of my wingleaders, thought the young weyrleader sourly; he had not assigned Th'ane to the task, but Storm's wingleader was conspicuously absent and J'fel could not help but think the rider had elected himself to helm the operation.
For all that sour thinking, the smile J'fel allowed himself was a little bit sweet. "I promise you, sir, I would do nothing to see your lovely sister hurt."
He turned then to Genet, whose comment about not needing someone to keep an eye on her (more's the pity; the notion of her and Aleda together on the next surprise visit to his quarters wasn't a displeasing one) was pointedly ignored. "The wingleader took it upon himself to accompany them; he was not duty-bound. Still, I have every faith they are quite well - other than that I am also sure they have not yet succeeded in their work."
The smile grew sweeter. Pacifying, even. J'fel unfolded his hands and spread them wide, palms forward: nothing to hide. "If ill had befallen them, Jordeth would know. Pelegaoth would know!" Of course, Pelegaoth had not been asked to check on the wandering team the weyrleader had sent out, but he was not about to trouble the queen to look for dragons that weren't missing.
"I understand your concerns, I promise you. And no, quite frankly, I don't want to deal with the trouble coming - every sister, brother, child and cousin of every man and woman away on the Weyr's business coming to pry about it."
J'fel grinned and gestured magnanimously to the cider: have more, have more, said his open hand. "But I'll deal with it if I must; it beats the alternatives."
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Post by Alsivor on Jul 30, 2008 16:30:59 GMT -8
Silvio had decided about five minutes into this that no, he didn't really like the Weyrleader at all. Maybe it took one to know one, but the way J'fel said 'lovely sister' spoke volumes to the Caminar. Not that he'd ever gotten into Aleda's business about who she slept with, or that he was a golden-haloed angel himself, but he felt the rare urge to punch the other man in the face for implying something he hadn't really implied.
He looked sidelong over at Genet, wishing he could nudge her foot or something to ask her to tone it down just a little, but then, this was her show and he was only along for the ride.
"Would your dragon actually know if anything had happened to Aleda? She has no dragon," he pointed out and took another sip from his glass. "You say that you're sure they haven't finished their work yet. What work is that? What could you possibly have said to my sister, that she would have accepted to do the Weyr's work. She is no plan--, weyr-person. She is a sabedoria of the Caminar and very very important to my family, to our people as every healer is."
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Post by Invisible on Jul 30, 2008 17:14:21 GMT -8
If Genet were a mind reader she would know that her and Silvio’s mind was running the same course. Different reasons, but they both had the sudden urge to punch J’fel in the face. The trouble was concealing this desire. He dismissed their concerns as if they were not important. To be truthful Genet was quite used to being dismissed as unimportant, but her brother was somebody. Before words she would immediately regret spilled from her mouth she lifted her cup and took a drink. It was very good cider and her hand clenched the cup as if it would escape.
She bit her tongue before saying anything letting the pain work into her brain. Maybe that would clear it up. “He has a point,” she finally said once she thought herself calm. “The least you could have done was find a healer sympathetic to the Caminar who would be willing to help.” Tipping her head she looked at Silvio. “Although to be fair the odds are probably good you guys wouldn’t like who he sent, right?” Now she looked back at J’fel and smirked, “But then you couldn’t play the mysterious leader, right? Because you’re trying to prove something. Inadequacies. I saw it at the hold when the old holder died when his son was still young a couple turns ago.”
If she had only stopped sooner she might not have said so much. Well, if she had stopped sooner she definitely would not have said too much. That would be the actual meaning of stopping sooner. But Genet’s mouth likes to get away from her and sometimes her brain cannot rein it in. “All I am saying is it’s been two months and the least you could do is offer us something. We’re of more use to you heading off further questions than continuing to ask and getting more people curious.” Wasn’t that reasonable sounding? It sounded reasonable. Adult, right? Someone not to be trifled with. Or at least taken seriously.
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