Not Seeing It

Xanadu Weyr - Weyrleaders' Office

Office and retreat, this is the domain of Xanadu's Weyrleaders. The door is in the eastern wall, quite close to the southern end while the northern wall is dominated by big, expansive windows, framed by sumptuous deep blue drapes edged with a brilliant gold braid and tied back with a thick rope of braided gold and blue cord. In between, the eastern wall is covered floor to ceiling with shelves that house all sorts of records, manuals and supplies that are used on a day-to-day basis. The southern wall has the Weyrleader's desk — plain fellis wood, well polished and masculine. From behind his desk, the Weyrleader can look straight through the windows and out onto the main airspace of Xanadu. The western wall is where the Weyrwoman's desk resides: a lovely piece of furniture made of warm cherry wood. From her seat, a glance sideways gives her an equally good prospect out the window. There are a few other seats, some comfortably arranged around a low round table for small, informal meetings while there also some that can be drawn up to one of the desks.

On the south side of the door, the space is occupied by a low oblong table where refreshments can be set without someone needing to intrude. There is also an 'incoming' tray where incoming correspondence or similar items can be left.

Working late tonight is Dels, papers spread out in front of him, computer screen still glowing. The lights are off in the office except for the one on his desk. D'son writes steadily but stops now and then to re-read before going on, head propped on one hand.

There's a soft tap on the office door, which is pushed open a crack, Thea pokes her head in, "D'son, do you have a few moments?" Someone else is working late tonight, although she looks as though she could use a good rest; she's looking more worn of late. The junior has several papers in her hand, "Needing your signature on these, if you will." She waits patiently, poised to leave him in peace and wait for another time.

Up comes D'son's head and he focuses on Thea instead of his writing. "Oh, sure, sure, come on in Thea," he gestures her inward and his free hand lifts to rub at his eyes. "Should give it a rest soon," he says with a little chuckle. "Have a seat while I sign?" and he holds his hands out for the papers.

Thea leaves the door ajar, walks to the desk and hands the papers to D'son. She sinks into one of the chairs, eyeing that glowing screen with a small shake of her head. "Staring at that all day can't be so easy on the eyes." She waits for a beat, "The one on top is a request to one of the masterherders." A small frown forms, her normally pleasant voice takes on a bit of a growl, though it's not directed at him. "I want his wild runners kept out of the stables before someone else gets hurt. Rogawani's said he's bringing more in." The tone in her voice tells plainly she thinks that is insanity.

D'son takes the papers and reads through each carefully. Hazel eyes lift to Thea's face and he nods once. "Not on it all day. There's wingleader meetings and holder meetings and stuff. Plenty of fresh air," he claims with a grin and furrows his brows in turn. "Wild runners?"

"Oh, yes. All those meetings." Thea says it dryly. Likely she's been in a few of her own here and there. "Then I shall not worry about having the Weyrleader lose his sight." There's a small, but pleasant smile for that happy thought, before the topic at hand erases it and she's nodding, her eyes darkened with concern, "The accident in the stables the other day?" A gentle reminder to a busy man, "Big black stallion broke the stall door. Enkavir still does not remember getting his head hit. Young Morlanol was hurt as well as Rogawani." Her lips form a flat, unhappy line, "Wild runners don't do so well in enclosed spaces I'm told. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. We can keep them out, can't we?"

"Not likely, nope," D'son says with a chuckle. "You know, between you and Viv, I'm going to go blind and fall down dead from sleep deprivation if you two are to be believed," he jokes a little and finishes reading the paper. "Oh I didn't realize it's because they were /wild/," D'son says with a little pained look. "Hm. Maybe make arrangements to house them separately," Dels decides and looks across at Thea.

Thea laughs shortly, "Sleep is a good thing. Rare, but good." She gestures to the paper, "That assigns them to the far paddocks, if you don't mind signing it? This one," She leans forward, tapping the paper underneath it with a fingertip before leaning back, "is a request from our gardener, Cenlia." Her voice sounds a bit perplexed with the gardener, "It's a request from her uncle that the girl will be watched and kept from trouble. She is fifteen Turns old." She headshakes, "An impossible task with that one. You'll see X'hil has signed it, but it requires another and I refuse." Her eyes dance with a bit of humor, her lips twitch, "Her uncle will be here to take her home if no one signs it."

"Mm, I'm managing," D'son says about sleep and nods as he gets to the end of the paddock request. A moment later his signature, with the title added after scrawls across the bottom and he hands it back to Thea. "Oh, Cenlia? Yeah, already took care of that the other day," he says with a little nod. "Met her in the garden and I had my stuff with me, so I wrote her a letter to let her stay on the spot. And shells … trouble? Really? She seemed like a really helpful girl …"

Thea laughs outright at this, a soft, pleasant sound as she takes both papers, "The little scamp. This must be a duplicate. Had it in my Not Urgent box." She shrugs with an exasperated sigh, "She can probably drink both you and D'had under the table with no trouble, manages to find herself in the middle of any mayhem that occurs around here, but it's never her fault." She keeps herself from smiling too much as she ticks off on her fingers, "She managed to get Niva drunk, runner nearly drowned her, tree branch broke and she hit her head, ovines chased her into the smithy, caught on fire…" She could go on and on, but instead she taps the paper, "It's why I wouldn’t sign. But now you know who that uncle will come looking for when she causes the next calamity?" Thea's looking at him.

"Uhh probably. It wouldn't be hard to drink me under the table," D'son confesses with a wry grin then bursts out laughing. "Seriously? Well shells, guess we'll just have to assign her to someone to keep an eye out," he says with a thoughtful look.

"Good luck with that one Sir. It will be a full-time job for whomever." Thea shrugs the thought of weyr-destruction and angry uncles away. She has no more papers, but there is a thoughtful look on her face. She hesitates, then just says it and by the tone of her voice she still finds the event unusual, "Vivian apologized to me earlier today for the way she spoke to me as we were leaving to rescue Keziah." Her head tips, "Did you tell her to do that?"

"There's people for that right? Foster-type people?" D'son says hopefully and looks down at this second letter for Cenlia, then signs this one too, stacks the two papers together. His eyes lift at that, and he blinks a couple of times. "I reminded her not to speak to you the way she did the other day," he says with a clearing of his throat and a touch of color in his cheeks.

Thea takes the paper she's handed with a quiet 'thank you', eyeing the sheet with a bit of resignation, "Since Headwoman Hisolda left…" She shakes her head, "I'll see who I can find." The paper joins the other one on her lap, then she's regarding the Weyrleader, her green eyes flickering to his cheeks, then back to his eyes. She doesn't remark on his uneasiness, however. "I heard you do that the other day and I appreciated it, Sir. Thank you." Her lips smile faintly, "I wasn't offended by her tone." Emphasis on the word tone. "Was surprised, today though. Vivian just… never apologizes to people." There's more on her mind, by the look on her face, but she waits.

"Oh, I'm supposed to meet with her next seven. Hisolda," D'son says with a little nod. "Try to convince her to come back," he adds and blows out a breath. "Well she still had no call to do that," the Weyrleader says with another clearing of his throat, then his brows loft high. "She doesn't?"

Thea shakes her head no to answer that question, but only comments regarding Hisolda, "Please do. as her former assistant I'm doing a large share of her work as well as my own." For a moment she drops her eyes to the papers, as if mulling something, then her head lifts, her eyes crinkle with humor, lips flicker at the corners, "She's always been that way. Until today." Her hand gives a little dismissive flip. Not her concern. Her expression returns to seriousness, "I tend to ignore little things like that, but I am asking you for a favor." Again that hesitation, a tiny wrinkle forms between her brows, "Is there a way for you to…" She throws him an apologetic glance, "…keep a lid on her ordering folks about? Weyrwoman's daughter or no, she is a secretary, not weyrstaff leadership." Her eyes are grave as she waits for an answer.

"Doing my best," D'son says sincerely about that. "With a lot of help from Vivian, actually," he continues and then waits, listens, trying to parse what Thea is saying. "Uhhh… ordering folks about?" he looks perplexed about that. "I mean, sometimes she carries out orders for me …"

Thea shakes her head, "Didn't mean that, carrying out your orders." She searches for the right words, finally deciding to settle for an example he was around to see and hear, "During the rescue she ordered me to 'mount up and get airborne and take your wingleader with me.'" She pauses, her eyes sparkling with slight irritation though not directed at him, "Her question about me being fit to fly was out of line as well." She eyes him with a bit of unease herself as she adds slowly, "She's starting to do it to you, too, Sir, although she's much nicer about it." She sighs, "You…haven't…noticed." It's a statement, flatly said.

"Right and I spoke to her about it," D'son says, brows knitting. "You just told me she apologized," the Weyrleader notes with a lack of comprehension on his face. "So I'm not quite sure what you're asking, unless you have examples of her being out of line with others. Not to mention that telling you where to go /was/ part of her job the other day." Dels gives Thea a little look of askance for that, then puffs out a little breath. "Do what to me?"

Thea shakes her head, "You mentioned her tone, not the way she did the ordering. She rises, "Forgive me, I'm not trying to make your work more difficult. Perhaps it is the manner she uses to do it. No respect." She shakes her head again, "I'm not the only one noticing and soothing folks here and there about the weyr is draining." There’s a little blink at his question, "She's telling you what to do too." She waves it away, "Not important, apparently. I'm sorry I brought it up."

"Her tone was what was disrespectful," D'son points out shaking his head again. "Tell you what to do and where to go was kind of an answer to a question you'd just asked so not really all that out of line. But the way she did it? Totally. Which is why I spoke to her. Immediately," Dels says and his brows lift. "Soothing people? Like who? Give me something concrete here Thea." For that last his shoulders lift a little. "There's something to be said for letting it roll off and going about what you'd do anyway or doing things differently."

Thea lifts a hand to rub her eyes, "D'son…" Someone has had a tough week, "You don't see the half of it. I do ignore… more than you'll ever know. It's dealing with others who do not." She's not giving him names and details, "It's late, I'm tired. I need Hisolda back. Vivian is not nice to people. Just… have a word with her about that?" She remains respectful in her manner, but firmly, "Goodnight Weyrleader." She turns and leaves the office, closing the door with a soft click behind her.

Thea does not have a monopoly on tough sevens, or tough months or longer. It's been one long tough 'day' since Dels got here. He pinches at the bridge of his nose and just nods. "Working on Hisolda, but without any actual incidents to respond to about Vivian, you're not giving me a lot of options, Thea. It'd be nice if you could just speak plainly instead of playing games," he says very plainly himself. As she retreats, he rises, nods politely. "Good night, Thea." Once she's gone he sighs and flips his pen across the desk, stares down moodily at his papers then reaches over to power the computer down. On his feet again, he yanks his jacket off the back of his chair and stalks out into the night to find Inimeth and head to Ista.

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