A Sailor's Departing Word

Xanadu Weyr - Main Docks

Jutting out from the land are the platforms that make up the main dock of Xanadu Weyr. The extruded plastic makes an odd sound when footsteps echo across it. From this dock, two others protrude taking opposite directions, each for a special purpose.

The 'Windy Waters' ironically sits docked, lobbed around by the pommeling waters, sails furled in to keep away from the whipping winds that gust off the waters edge. Sailors would not risk navigating the foreboding waters, since the power of water could wreck a ship easily upon a rock or by a rogue wave, or in waters like these churning tides, it could hide a low bottom. Either way, the massive river and oceanic gallon is parked, with lights burning on inside the hull to indicate that her crew is ready to set sail when the waters calm. Sailing the narrows into Caspian Lake took skill and precision, not something one could do in the days like this. So, with their cargo having been unloaded and reloaded the night prior, there is a subtle anticipation in the air from the crew that linger in and around the dockside. Landers is one of those sorts, taking a place on an empty crate, a thick jacket pulled around his shoulders as the wind bites with promises of heavier rain to come. Tails of his bandana flip and dance like a banner behind him, while his hair looks to be damp from the constant drizzle. He's apparently tying knots, for the lack of anything better to do. Not quite that exciting but a sailor whose practiced in his knots moves up the ladder quicker than a man who doesn't know them. They're complicated ordeals as well. Yet, every once and a while his head lifts from his idle pursuit, checking on the ship, the weather, and the others loitering on the docks.

Xanadu has welcomed the Windy Waters and her crew the evening before, the Weyrleaders, Weyrsecond and wingleaders having shared a formal dinner with the Captain and officers in the Caverns with local specialties cooked to perfection and served with a variety of wines. It's not everyday that new folk visit the Weyr in such numbers, so it's been somewhat of a celebration, the crew finding the warmth of certain weyrfolk quite… generous. And though the weather isn't conducive to sailing, it's been made clear that they must be at the ready should the weather shift. As such, the Weyrleaders have paid their last visit aboard the Windy Waters and though the men might linger aboard, there are things that the Weyrwoman must see to and thus it is her solitary figure that disembarks, cloak pulled tight, hood up to shield her from the rain. Things to do and still, she walks slowly, pausing to glance up into the rigging with a nostalgic half-smile upon her lips, watching as the crew makes ready the lines and… noting the knot-tier there. "You know, I only know how to tie one of those?"

Landers wasn't one of those fortunate enough to enjoy the formal dinner, since he was on the low end of the hierarchy, despite the Turns of service already put in. Though he was not denied the warmth of the Weyr; on the contrary he was able to find drink, food, and companionship. It was due to the Weyrleaders still being on the ship that caused his eye to turn though as he sat there fiddling with a length of rope, eyes contemplative as they searched the ship for some indication of the events on board. Still, while other of his crew were getting the riggings ready, he manned the docks to unhook lines from their tethered and would be the last on board if they were to set sail. So by chance or his constant vigil over the gang plank, the Weyrwoman was an easy figure to watch descend from the decks of the Windy Waters. Fingers twist the chords of rope together absently as he attempts to appear busy and not by any chance ogling the woman. Astonishment touches the younger man's features though when she has time enough to offer him a few words, causing him to react by poucing up onto the balls of his feet only to lower in a respectful bow (even if that was over the top). Upon rising he casts a fleeting glance to the length of rope in his palm before it redirects to the lady in whom acknowledges his existence; a step up in the world! There's a half crooked smirk on his face for a time before he fathoms to speak a word back to her, a thick seafaring accent displayed in a husky voice, "Tis not many a lass who knows even the one."

Thea's lips twitch with her attempt to keep amusement from showing at that exuberant bow she's given and though her sea green eyes glimmer with it, her face is merely formally pleasant, a sweet smile curves her mouth as she inclines her head in a graceful acknowledgement. His superiors could be watching after all. It's after lifting her head and a casual sweeping glance 'round that she murmurs a gently laughing, but conspiratorial, "At ease, Sir." As to that knot, "My weyrmate is- was a seaman. But I've only learned the one to moor the little sailboat we share." Again her eyes lift to the ship, drop back to him. "Where are you sailing for?"

Landers is a tall lad when he stands his full height, the young man however acts as if his head could be cracked at any second by a superior as a sudden glance back over his shoulder might suggest. The railing of the Windy Waters is empty and no crew member hawkishly gapes at the scene below. A current relief as the young man turns back with shoulders relaxing and feet parting to allow him an easy stance. "T'will try m'lady," spoken once further with that thick ramble of words, attempting to appease her as his gait draws up a little more casually when he tightens his jacket around his shoulders. "Bound fer Monaco I reckon. Cap'n is none too easy bout the Azov, so we're headin northward." He may never get to see the Weyrwoman again and like all sailors who risk a perilous life upon the untamed waters of the world, he lives fast and daringly, thus offers a forward word, "If ah say so myself m'lady, yer mighty enchanting." His eyes squint about the corners as his lips take on a charming appeal, his head bowed again less she thinks his words were in any way insulting.

Let it never be said that the Weyrwoman can't dissemble when she needs to. Though whether she is really, who could say? Noting that wary look he's given in the ship's direction, she seeks to help put him at ease. "You're giving me report, should anyone seek to reprimand you, hmm?" She's considering the answer he's given, lips part to ask something when he gives his compliment. There's no surprise or annoyance, no flustered blush in response. She appears to take this quite seriously, though perhaps it's belied by the dance in her clear-eyed gaze. Her voice is kind as she replies, "Why thank you, how nice of you to say that." Her manner is perhaps less formal than expected, and though it becomes a touch businesslike as she continues it is still warm, "I am Thea. What's your name sailor? And pray tell me how you found the coast as you sailed here. We've had weeks of steady rain. Anything unusual?"

Landers faintly accepts the terms of their conversation should anyone investigate it later, which was a likely thing since the Captain and his officers would know of each word spoken to a representative of the Weyr. The man isn't stupid however and the compliment spoken boldly was probable to be the first and the last, considering much further could invoke ire where it is not wanted. A touch of a smile tweaks his features for the kindness relegated toward himself, approval glinting in the blue gaze of the sailor. When prompted to include his name, he speaks easily, a comfortable tone on each poised word, "Tis Landers, m'lady." This time his chin tilts down in a gracious manner, the boy having some class despite the rugged profession and lifestyle he touted. Subsequent questions endure a quip of silence as his eyes wander north, as if revisiting some prior memory, snapping back once he has a firm answer in his mind, "A respite in the weather not ta day ago allowed me Cap'n to nagivate the waters by sight n' compass when star-charts failed. Tis dolphins that guided us by luck the rest of the way in." A purse of his lips for the last, "Waters be swelling 'n dirty. Touching places they haven't in a while, I reckon."

Thea remains relaxed, her manner easy as she seems to expect the young man to behave properly - at least there's no bracing for impropriety, no tightening of her eyes. Perhaps she's a good judge of character, for there's an expression of respect as she observes his mannerisms. "Landers," she says in grave acknowledgement, of his name and pays careful attention to what he says, nodding as though unsurprised. Of the dolphins and sincerely meant, "How fortunate those creatures exist and are willing to be so helpful!" Her gaze seeks the rain-hazed shoreline of Black Rock Hold across the way, lashes veiling her eyes from the mist that beads them as she asks her next question, "Did you see any disturbance of the ground, any trees down or rockslides?"

His name spoken on the lips of a Weyrwoman seems to do much to coax a smugness into his eyes, pride thoroughly fluffed in an instant that she acknowledges him. While a Weyrwoman could be expected to know people of her Weyr by name, to take the time out to recognize a comman man who has done nothing to deserve such attention, warrented a bolstering smile such as the one Lan had now. A gusty laugh trails after the wide grin, nodding with a jovial nature then, as if forgetting formalities enough to allow himself a normal instant with Thea, "Tis indeed a blessing that we have them as guides upon the sea." Only he succumbs to being a young man when her gaze takes for the shoreline of Black Rock, for his own take a time to relish the lady before him, despite her form being concealed behind her cloak. Regardless, when she redirects her gaze at him, she'll get the tail end of him snapping up his eyes toward her and perhaps a guilt ridden smirk that follows. "Several, tis true. The land gives way when it cannot hold so much water 'n the shorelines expand with greed m'lady, eating whar stands in her way," a shrug of his shoulder then, "I reckon the murkiness of the water comes from the wounds gouged in the land. Hear it all the time, m'lady, of land bein' gone when t'was charted 'n found where it should nar be."

That laugh of his is contagious and Thea's clear-toned voice rings out, a lilting scale of notes as she joins in it, sharing the moment as if there wasn't a gulf of rank and expectation to keep a formality between them. When she turns her head back to the young man, she meets his eyes, her's still crinkled at the corners with lingering merriment. "I've only seen them a time or two from a-dragonback, but I'd love to swim with them sometime." A brief sigh. "When there's time…" About the land, she nods solemnly. "We've asked the captain to have his men keep an eye on the coast as you go and send word-" Here her pale eyes flick up to the rigging, perhaps to seek whether there might be a firelizard or several perched therein. "-of anything unusual." Her eyes drop to him once more and she grins, "It' a task for many eyes, yes?"

Landers facial expression soften in the rugged exterior of a sea-hearty individual, becoming tender in the broken seconds where rank fails to maintain the distance between them. There's a decent sized dimple as he holds his smile for the woman, ignoring the uncomforting feel of fabric clinging to skin as the rain mires the good clothes he was wearing and the chill wind attempts to shake him of all good feeling. "They be good fortune ta any ship whom they guide." Dolphins were certainly a profound subject within the hearts of all sailors and had Pern developed deities, the dolphin would factor into theirs. Eventually he turns to bunch up the length of rope between his hands, to do something with them as he contemplates these unusual sightings the crew would be on the look out for, "Please m'lady, have no fear, fer me Cap'n runs a tight ship 'n ya can expect us all ta be lookin fer your unsual sights. Count on us."

"The Windy Waters and her brave crew will have Xanadu's gratitude, I'm sure." Thea responds with a lightness belied by the gravity in her eyes as she scans the lake behind the ship. Sailing in that…. That light rain so far has been just enough to make things dismal and damp. Now, however it picks up a pace, pattering down with a slowly increasing tempo, ticking and plunking on Thea's hood and cloak, rousing her from the pleasant company and topic, prompting her to turn a critical eye skyward. It's a move she regrets, blinking the rain from her eyes as she bestows an apologetic smile on Landers and her mood shifts to one of brisk almost-comical motherliness, "Here, I'm keeping you out in this. I'll take my leave so you may get inside." If they allow such things of sailors, she wouldn't know. "Safe voyage, Landers, you and the crew. Good bye." With another inclination of her head, she turns and heads off, her pace unhurried despite the rain now coming down in a freshet.

"Ah, tis nothing, just doin' whar we can I reckon," his thick seafaring accent jilted with confidence, eyes never leaving the woman's face even as her gaze favours other places. Albeit, the thicker beads of rain that splatter now against the dock shorten any further words between them, if only because the Weyrwoman hastens to retreat from the weather. Landers himself remains stationed where he was posted prior to her disembarking the 'Windy Waters.' Lan dips his head at her leave, refraining from mentioning that he would keep out in the weather, as it was only a part of a sailors life to face such discomforts head on. Shifting his feet and tightening his jacket around him, he bunkers himself down back on the crate he used as an earlier perch, replying before hand, "Thank yah M'lady Thea," a moment to hesitate before he gives a sailor's departing word, "Be it yah see the sun rise and the dawn break."

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