Making Rounds (Wide Open! All welcome!)

[Invisible]

(OOC: This thread takes place in the lower caverns in general. So, feel free to pose in anywhere that might encompass. Ramla is walking around and will stop where she thinks it wise to. Come meet the Headwoman!

There were always fires to be put out around the Weyr. Emergencies that required the direct attention of the Headwoman were not so common as Ramla had trained her staff well. Any of them who summoned her for something trivial was going to suffer for such a thing. Even with a well trained staff there was always something that would require Ramla tend to it. She did not mind. It was why she was here and why she held the authority she did. The Headwoman needed neither dragon or Blood to command respect. The fact that she had Blood at least on her father’s side only meant she expected more respect than what was due just her position.

Already since lunch she had put out three of the sorts of emergencies that required her attention alone as well as chastise a girl in the laundry and the kitchen for failing to do what was expected of her. Now Ramla thought to take a stroll through her domain. The lower caverns had been hers longer than anyone else’s currently holding a position of authority within the Weyr. Her place and she knew every nook and cranny so her steps carried her to all of them. If she stopped to exchange greetings or answer a question it was not seen as time away from work. It was her work to keep the Weyr running smoothly so the weyrleaders could focus on more important things. If during her talks she tried to sway some to her way of thinking on the scourge that was the Caminar, well, everyone had an opinion.

[Omnia Munda]

Despite their well-earned reputation for being full of biddable (or easily intimidated) young women, the weyrleader didn't visit the lower caverns much. Perhaps, like many riders, he'd had his fill of their like when he lived in the candidate barracks; many riders also disliked the relatively close quarters and tight corridors, preferring the open space of a weyr and the view of the sky it afforded. Perhaps J'fel just saw no need to prowl places his work and play didn't send him.

But he was sent there now, Jordeth's gentle support urging him to make good on the promise of the prior day. He'd been by the headwoman's office already to no avail, but he knew enough about Ramla to be sure he'd find her somewhere in these caverns, likely more diligent in her work on the hoof than she could stand to be trapped behind a desk.

In time it occurred to him that poking his head into this room and that, being stared at wide-eyed by laundresses and charwomen alike, was less likely to bring him to the woman than standing still could do. If something had called Ramla away from her work, she'd no doubt eventually return - and no matter how little time she spent in her office, she must spend some time there, for every message he'd ever sent to be left on her desk had been answered with appropriate action. (Flowers. Vases. Throw pillows and hors d'oeuvres to greet his female guests.)

So J'fel posted himself in an alcove along the hallway that led to that office, just feet from the central atrium from which other halls led to barracks, laundry, stores and more. He leaned against a wall, crossed one boot over the other, and with his thumbnail idly pushed back the cuticles on his other hand. Looking like a layabout didn't bother him - heck, maybe someone would think he looked approachable and pause to have a word.

[Invisible]

When she had covered nearly every inch of her territory Ramla set her feet for home. She spent more time in her office than in her private room and it showed in the way she had it decorated. Not as young as she once was Ramla found she looked forward to sitting after taking her tour of her domain. At least three such tours would occur daily along with any other missions that took her away from her desk. A girl was stopped on her way to some duty and told to have tea sent to the headwoman’s office. What was left over from earlier would be undrinkable now. At least undrinkable for the headwoman who demanded much of those under her.

As she turned down the last corridor to reach her comfortably padded chair and ottoman she slowed as she spied a man lounging near her office. There were no meetings scheduled for today. Ramla did not even have to try to remember she knew her schedule like someone else might know their favorite color. Upon closer inspection she made out the features of the weyrleader and let a slow grin creep up her features. Another woman might primp to be sure her hair was in place or her dress lying properly, but this was another of those things Ramla always knew. She did not appear less than her best ever.

With a welcome smile she closed the distance between her and him before saying, “Weyrleader, what a pleasure to see you down here.” The headwoman knew as well as anyone that J’fel rarely came down here. It must be more than just fresh flowers he wanted this time she reasoned. “I’ve just sent for fresh tea. Do please come in so we might speak.” It did not occur to her he would be there for any reason but to talk to her as she took out the key that unlocked her door so they might step inside.

[Omnia Munda]

Unfolding from his lean, J'fel inclined his head to the headwoman as she came by, mouth growing a bit of its characteristic sassy grin. He left the alcove to fall into step beside her, though he hung back for her to open the door, then followed her inside the office.

Only once he was inside did the weyrleader begin with the niceties. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I should have sent for an appointment," he allowed, though there was nothing about how he behaved - glancing around for the best place to park himself for the speaking they would surely do and the tea they would surely drink - that allowed for the possibility that she'd turn him away without a scheduled date. "I've an idea on my mind, and I'm hoping you'll help me execute it the best way possible."

[Invisible]

The headwoman’s office was tastefully opulent. Meaning while her furniture, rugs, and walls hangings were of the finest quality they were not ostentatious. They merely existed from turn to turn always in a perfect state. Her taste in colors was less bright than to be found in her wardrobe. The desk resided across the room with a pair of chairs in front of it, but it was not to here that Ramla walked.

Instead she led the way to the small sitting area tucked away like a cozy corner. Two chairs and a small couch were grouped around a table. It was meant to be a small oasis away from her work and she had napped many an hour in this corner when she felt going to her room would be detrimental. Rather than sit she stood behind a chair and allowed J’fel to pick where he would sit. “Please, have a seat, weyrleader,” she told the boy with a smile. “You need no appointment to meet with me. I am at your service whenever there is something that demands our combined efforts.”

While she was used to dealing with Aderes it stood to reason this weyrleader might do things differently. He might not be content to let her handle everything and if he was going to need her she’d rather know about it now when they were still early enough in his position for her to make the proper adjustments easily.

[Omnia Munda]

"Well, thank you for that." J'fel sounded, without effort, equal parts bemused and humbled. He chose one of the chairs, folding himself into it with a formal awkwardness borne of the effort to present himself with all due propriety - a kind of presentation with which the boy weyrleader had little experience. Impropriety filled him, tried to seep through his pores, to make him slouch and smirk. He resisted, but to a wise eye the resistance was not perfect.

"I'm concerned," began the young man without further preamble, as serious as he could be, "that the Weyr finds me either too inaccessible or too unapproachable. I want to be sure everyone - not just my riders or my wings, but anyone - knows I'll hear them out."

He was not looking at Ramla the way he might if he'd known how badly he needed to hear her out. No; J'fel was looking at the surface of the table part of the time, at the headwoman part of the time, and all the while keeping a corner of his eye on the door - perhaps he very much anticipated the tea.

"I can set aside some time to be available in my office or - somewhere," the weyrleader added with a boneless shrug. "But just being there isn't the kind of... invitation I want people to feel." He grinned a moment, then focused on the headwoman's face. If he was trying to read her, he was not subtle about it. "Do you have time to talk ideas?"

[Invisible]

Once the weyrleader was sat down Ramla chose her own seat. It would be a few minutes until her tea arrived so there was no since standing until then. If J’fel was not watching her the same could not be said for Ramla. She kept her eyes on the young man the whole time he spoke or not. “Ah. I see the dilemma, yes. You must realize our former weyrleader was not so concerned with making himself accessible to everyone. It will take time for the people of the Weyr to come around to the idea our new one is not the same.” Ramla tried to recall S’lyn ever being this concerned that people come to him and could not think of a time. He simply expected things to get done.

“I am honored that you have come to me to discuss this,” Ramla said then with a welcome smile. “And office hours are a start. An afternoon here or there when you are not busy with other duties.” She said the sentence so smoothly. Unlike some she felt no need to pause or add extra inflection to that last word. They both knew how he spent his time in work and in play she would not waste their time now with teasing or sly innuendo.

As for his question of her time she nodded, face set in its serene expression that gives away nothing of what her mind is thinking. “I do believe I said I was at your service, weyrleader.” Now she teases just a little with just a spark in her eyes of merriment. “I would be delighted to discuss ideas with you. Have you something in mind already?”

[Omnia Munda]

"Only that I'd like people to feel at ease visiting," J'fel replied. He was becoming more conformed to the shape of the chair with each exchange, as though over time he might melt after all into a slouchy sprawl. He'd already stretched out both arms along the chair's, and now one hand's fingers drummed slowly against the upholstery. He watched them. "It shouldn't be too formal. There should be something as a distraction."

He looked up. She'd teased him for a moment; the weyrleader took the liberty of teasing back, equally mild. "Like tea."

[Invisible]

“Tea?” Ramla said with a wide grin as she stood up just before there was a knock at the door. She took the tray from the girl without letting her in and then returned to set it on the table before J’fel. Then her steps took her to a small cupboard where a pair of fine cups were selected and brought back. Once she was seated again she asked, “How do you take your tea, weyrleader?”

While she prepared tea she let out a soft laugh. “But, as much as I adore tea it is such a formal affair. Have you considered something else? Perhaps invite people to share a meal with you? We could arrange a special menu. Something different each time even.” Telgar did not have unlimited stores of course, but Ramla seemed prepared to spare almost no expense to be of assistance.

[Omnia Munda]

"Sweet," J'fel replied in the appropriate gap. He'd watched as she retrieved the tea. He knew the headwoman's age or, more accurately, knew an assortment of numbers that, as a candidate and then as a weyrling, he'd heard her age suggested to be. She was still finely made for any of those numbers, but he was examining her stride and her manner for other reasons. What had Aderes learned from this woman with her tea service and her enormous staff? He did not exactly doubt himself for having come here without consulting the Weyrwoman first, but he did feel, privately, the smallest shred of guilt for having done so.

Yet he knew Aderes would approve. Jordeth was sure, and Jordeth rarely guessed the beauty wrong, a fact J'fel assumed was related to the closeness between his beast and the queen.

While Ramla prepared the cups, the weyrleader considered her words - but not for long. "I'd thought of having food of some sort. Snacks at least." So of course he was amply prepared to agree to the idea of a meal. "Where would we take a meal like that? Is my meeting room," adjoining his and the Weyrwoman's weyr, which was once S'lyn's meeting room, "too remote? Aderes would be welcome, of course."

The young man's expression was a considering one, his focus flown - he was imagining the idea already. But something Ramla had said bore a blink and a regrouping. "Something different each time?"

[Invisible]

The tea was fixed and handed to J’fel with only a smile rather than any words. Ramla’s own cup got a small amount of cream and then she arranged herself in her chair to her satisfaction. “Snacks? How informal do you wish this to be?” Clearly Ramla thought the word snacks beneath the weyrleader. If she did not say it her tone implied it. Really. Snacks?

“A selection of foods I would think. Either a light meal should be offered or a tasting where we offer finger foods and small delicacies.” Ramla might not have meant to say we, but she did. Probably only because she expected to be in on the menu planning and not because she had a wish to attend all of these little gatherings. “As for location, weyrleader, if the weather is nice you might set up a pavilion outside. Otherwise, perhaps not the meeting room? It seems so formal.” Which is not a bad thing to the headwoman, only not what he seemed to want.

“Perhaps some place more intimate. There used to be a smaller hall off the great hall near the kitchens. It’s been used for storage for quite some time, but if we shifted supplies to a new place.” Ramla tapped a finger against her lower lip before stopping the gesture by taking a drink of tea. “As for a different menu each time it implies you are open to change.”

[Omnia Munda]

A murmur of gratitude designed not to interrupt their actual conversation met the cup that Ramla provided, and J'fel lifted up his hand to take the tea. The way the headwoman repeated snacks made him want to grin, and though he didn't give in to the impulse, the wanting was written quite clearly in the twitchy corner of his mouth. He raised the cup to settle his smile with a sip.

"Tasting," he said after he'd sipped, after the headwoman had said all of the rest and J'fel had nodded his agreement through it (of course: open to change, exactly as he'd want to be described). It was as though he'd been savoring that word, tasting, rather than the hot beverage. "I like the sound of that. It'll keep people light, and if someone doesn't want to stay long it won't be so odd if they go as it would be in the middle of a full meal."

The boy weyrleader was talking and thinking at the same time, and never was it more apparent than just now, as his ocean-jewel eyes went narrow quite suddenly, focus straying. He swirled his teacup but did not drink; the movement just kept his hand busy.

At last his focus cleared, honing upon the headwoman. It might have even seemed ominous, as though he would say something to prove he saw through her - clear through to S'lyn on the other side.

But what he actually said was, "Do you suppose I should invite people?"

[Invisible]

Ramla’s expression did not change through the study of her features and any sweating she did was internal. It was possible, she thought as she took a sip of tea, that they had underestimated the current weyrleader. He might be concealing more than anyone had suspected. If he was that brilliant their plans might need adjusting quickly. For now however Ramla accepted the scrutiny and when he was done and spoke she just smiled at him. “Exactly, weyrleader. We want people to feel welcome to come and leave at their leisure.”

That a note might be made of such comings and goings would never need be said. It would not be her place to suggest a thing. “I think you might make a list of people you feel should be invited and share it with your weyrwoman and take her suggestions as well. Then select from that list. After a few, once we’ve worked the kinks out, you might consider opening it to more people. Or just an open invitation. We could simply cut off the people allowed in when a particular number was reached.”

Ramla thought her idea was good enough to be accepted. Not that she would not take suggestions and make of them what would be best. With that thought another occurred to her and she smiled once more as if it were the most delightfully innocent idea in all of Pern. “Ah. If I might be so bold, weyrleader. My friend H’gar has a brother in the vintnercraft. He is trying to get his own label accepted. Perhaps if you were to try it and found it acceptable…” She trailed off with a little shrug. “Offering it at your gatherings I am sure he’d offer us quite the deal on it. If you found it acceptable, of course.”

[Omnia Munda]

J'fel's eyes narrowed further, but the effect was not one of suspicion as much as it was one of self-satisfaction, as though the boy weyrleader might actually doze for a moment despite his efforts at formal posture in the headwoman's comfortable chair. "I wonder if she'll want to come to some of them." The wondering had the tone of rhetoric; he asked the walls and ceiling and cup of tea just as much as he asked Ramla.

"I would hate to have a cutoff like that," he said after a moment, eyes flicking wide once more. He gestured with his tea. "People might be anxious about it. Really, I'd like a group small enough that those who come feel comfortable talking with me... otherwise I might as well host a party and put out beer." And cards, he did not say, and if he thought it, it didn't show on his face - he was grinning, as though he'd made a joke, not a jibe, so perhaps he didn't think it at all.

But clearly the young man was thinking. He swirled the tea, then sipped from it, the delicate muscles beneath his eyes twitching as his focus shifted from one secret topic to another. "Let's use the hall by the kitchens for a tasting by invitation once a seven," he said at last, lifting his chin in a manner he must have hoped seemed decisive. No matter: his tone succeeded where his posture might not. "And a pavilion for something broader at the end of the month, though we'll have to suspend that when the snow comes."

J'fel leaned forward and surrendered his cup to the table, his other hand curved across his chin while he ordered the rest of his thoughts. "Is next seven's fifth too soon for a little tasting? H'gar's brother's vintage can be served there, and if it goes over well we'll have it at the outdoor thing at month's end, too."

It was not as blanket a promise as Ramla had suggested, but J'fel had a hunch it wasn't the vintner he was really bargaining with, even by proxy, but the woman herself. He did not know H'gar well, but he knew of him - well enough. The headwoman naming him had reminded the young weyrleader of his place and given him a dose of self-certainty he'd been lacking moments before; he smiled, nearly smirked, and dipped his head a little so the full beauty of his long-lashed gaze could smoke up at his hostess. "Will that do?"

Certainly J'fel thought it did.

[Invisible]

The weyrleader was allowed his leisure as Ramla sipped her own tea. She would not try to rush his thinking on anything. Truth be told she did not expect his thinking could be rushed. Sometimes she wondered what there was of it, but all new weyrleaders had their quirks. He would grow out of some of his or be replaced. “I shall begin having the hall cleared out today, weyrleader,” she answered with an inclination of her head. It was much too regal a gesture to be called a nod. “Stores should have the furniture we need to make it look properly intimate.” Someone else might have said cozy, but the word was not important enough for Ramla to use in this.

“I shall have H’gar send word to his brother. I am sure we can get a proper vintage here in time for the first gathering, weyrleader.” In fact Ramla would hunt down H’gar as soon as she could and tell him what was needed. He could go to his brother to procure it and she would sample it all again when it was brought back. With plenty of time to find something else if it did not suit. The talk of the outdoor event did allow her to bring one thing up that she considered a negative to the idea.

The headwoman leaned forward and set her cup down on the table with a smooth and languid motion that was natural by this stage of her life. It did not invite any sort of glance so much as it accepted there might be one and therefore any expected look was welcome. “I hesitate to bring this up, weyrleader,” she said once she was straightened again in her chair with her hands folded in her lap. “But I would be remiss if I did not say something. These outdoor events, well, something I had considered before bringing it up at all should be mentioned. Our, ah, guests in the bowl.” They might be trouble, or too loud, or visible, or any number of things. But Ramla did not supply what that thing might be.