Xanadu Weyr - Weyrsecond and Jr Weyrwomans' Office
Office or study? Perhaps this room is a little of both. It is spacious and airy with the big windows opposite the door looking northwards, a perfect aspect when one is this far south. Those windows are framed by dark forest green drapes, soft ribbons and braid in dark, rich gold sewn along the edges to give them a sumptuous look. The back wall is covered by shelves that hold a variety of things - mostly records and reference material as well as writing tools and sheets of hide and paper. Tapestries, including several lovely scenes of the terrain around Xanadu Weyr, cover the rest of the wall-space while a soft, plain off-white rug hides the stone floor. A small, low table sits by the door and usually has some refreshment set out on it.
Several broad desks are arranged around the room, each one set so someone sitting at it doesn't look directly at any of the others. Small screens can be set up on each desk to give a little more privacy and each has one comfortable chair that goes with it. So far, it looks like one desk has a permanent claimant. There are also several other chairs, which can be used by visitors.
Another early morning. Not all that early, but Soriana is still the first one here. Not too surprising, after the other weyrwomen left because… well. Because of her, in a way. Because of Luraoth and… the flight. Soriana is at her desk - which is still strange, more days than not, but she's not thinking about that now. She hasn't bothered to actually reach for something to do, either. Mostly, she's just staring at where a blank wooden surface makes a place to replay her thoughts. Fragmentary puzzle-pieces. She wants them to come together, and, at the same time… she sort of doesn't. But, want to or not, she's still thinking about them, expression distant and faintly frowning.
Of the Weyrwomen of Xanadu, Sorrin is one of those who can usually find something to keep herself occupied with, even before all the rest of her duties. Needless to say, flights that involve her daughter are probably not things she wants to think too closely about. Soriana might be an adult now, but that doesn't mean that she isn't still her little girl. It's the bane of being an only child.
Her arrival is heralded by a tap of boots on the wall outside before she comes in, probably knocking some mud off before she steps in. It's still an unusual sight to see her daughter there. Two generations of Weyrwomen is … a strange thing. "Hey kid." She offers, pulling herself out of her leather jacket and tossing it down across her own desk. "Firelizards eating your brains?" Which is mom-speak for: Got something on your mind?
Sometimes it's a bane. Sometimes… Soriana drags herself out of her dazed thoughts with a blink and, "Mom." She smiles, quickly, and yet the expression's just about gone by the time she leaves the desk, crossing the room hastily because sometimes - grown up or not - she just needs a hug. And moms give the best hugs. As for the question… she doesn't immediately answer, which means the answer is Yes, Actually. Only… where does she even begin? Because… no, she doesn't really want to talk about it either. And yet. If she keeps this up, she won't have any brains left to be eaten.
The older Weyrwoman offers her daughter a small smile, but as the girl gets up, her expression gets more serious. The sudden hug draws a brief 'oof' from Sorrin, but then she just folds her arms around her daughter, drawing her in and laying kissing the top of her head with a sigh. "Oh sweetheart." She doesn't press the question, knowing that if the girl wants to talk, she will. Instead, Sorrin just moves to brush her hair back, "How's Luraoth?" Sure, she could just ask Yumeth for a status report, but it's better to get information from the source.
For a long moment, Soriana just presses close, burying her head against her mother's shoulder and clinging arms around her. She draws in a ragged breath, lets it out again… and finally her grip loosens and she lifts her head. She isn't crying - she hasn't cried - and yet there's a wet shine to her eyes until she blinks it away. Question first. "She's… good." She is. Soriana can feel her now, warm and content… with Kanekith. And… Soriana looks down and away. "I'm…" not. But then, isn't it obvious? "Is it…" She hesitates. Of all the things to not ask your mother, and yet, who else? Soriana looks up again. "Does it get easier?"
It doesn't take a mind reader to know some of the girl's thoughts. Though Sorrin had taken Yumeth elsewhere, news travels through the dragons almost as fast as rumors through the Weyr. "But you're not." The older Weyrwoman finishes the thought, letting a sigh slip from her lips. "It doesn't seem like it right now, and it might not for a while, dearheart. But it does…" She hesitates, trying to find the right words to say. While Soriana has grown up these past years, Sorrin is starting to show signs of gray in her hair. Time moves on. "You and I, we don't come from Weyrstock, no matter how good we are at impressing dragonnets." It's hard to explain, the anatomy of flights is something that changes time and again. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it's chaotic. "But it won't always be like that. Sometimes… when dragon and rider come together it's like magic. Other times, it's a big chaotic mess of hormones and stupidity."
No. She's not. Soriana nods to that, because of course her mother's a mindreader. (Even if she doesn't have to be.) Her eyes are wide on Sorrin's as she listens. For all they're nearly a height, for all her mother's hair is graying, those eyes still hold traces of a little girl falling off things and going to mom to fix it. Even if mom can't always do that. But. It gets better. (Didn't all those scraped knees?) Soriana nods again, and tries to believe it. She frowns for a moment, gaze drifting down at the thought of her origins… then rising once more. Magic. Her mouth tugs sideways in a wry look that turns to a sigh at the more accurate description that follows. "When Luraoth was flying… it was wonderful. And then…" She gives her head a shake, looking down. "I… I don't want to be mad at him. At Ka'el. But. I… don't want to see him, either." Because it hurts, but… her voice gets softer, almost inaudible. "…except I do."
As much as she might like to, there are a great many things that Sorrin cannot fix. She couldn't make S'iad stay, not for his daughter, nor for her. Nor did she seem to be able to fix the lack of any stable partner in her life. But she'd always /tried/ to do her best for Soriana, no matter what the cost. Stepping back slightly, Sorrin slings an arm around her daughter's shoulders, trying to lead her over towards the more comfortable, visitor's chairs. "You've heard the lectures, love, but it's a whole other thing in the real world." Sorrin releases the girl and flops down into one of the chairs, waiting for Soriana to take the other.
Her protective nature wants to tell her that maybe it's for the best not to see the boy, but the fact is, she'll have to. This is the Weyr, and she's a Weyrwoman, as much as she might still be a girl in Sorrin's eyes. "Every rider is going to be different. You're both young, and control is something that will take time to figure out." Closing her eyes, Sorrin seems to be reaching for her own bond, "And trust me, as your mother… I'd like to punch him for hurting you, but as a Weyrwoman… you understand that I can't do that." She tries to offer what she hopes is a supportive smile. "You probably shouldn't either, but I'd probably cheer inside, just a little."
"Yeah," Soriana agrees as she's steered to the comfy chairs. Lectures, facts, books and… she shakes her head, and practically collapses into a chair, forgetting the caution of her movements that's part of being dignified grown-up Weyrwoman… "Unh." A wince, because she forgot for a moment that there's another reason for that caution right now, and discovered a bruise that makes her shift and settle into a new position. There. That one'll work. She sighs, and looks out across the room without seeing it. Eighteen is a great time for thinking you know everything… and discovering you don't. That part isn't so great, though.
Soriana nods, still looking away. Every rider's different. And control… that makes her mouth twist, not sure if she wants to smile or frown. "More than just for blooding," she murmurs, then gives her head a shake. Isn't she supposed to be done with weyrling lessons? Apparently, that just means she moves on to getting her lessons from real life. The hard way, where nobody can protect her… much as they'd like to try. Her eyes return to Sorrin. "Don't punch him," she says, but her lips quirk in a smile, albeit a very rueful sort of one. "Besides." She glances away, and the smile fades. "I think I already did."
Sorrin's hawk-like eyes are watchful, but she doesn't call attention to the way that her daughter moves. There's certainly concern, and it takes a good part of her self control not to say something. "More than just for blooding." She agrees with a nod. "I wish they spent more time teaching young male riders about taking the same sort of responsibility with their lifemates and themselves." With many years not spent at the Weyr, and more than a few bad experiences with certain flyboys, one could say that the older goldrider might be a bit jaded on that account, though. "Young bronzes can be some of the most stupid dragons when it comes to a gold flight. Their riders aren't much better."
As for the comment about punching Ka'el, well Sorrin just nods once. "Good." You can't really expect mom not to feel that he deserved that. Hrmph.
Soriana is glad to let both her own bruises and the one she left on Ka'el slide. She doesn't really want to talk about them. The young male riders, though… she frowns, thoughtful. "There… really wasn't anything. At all. I mean… Darsce talked about what to do with a gold, and I already know it from the school, anyhow, but nobody said anything about what the males' riders should do." The frown deepens. "Nothing. And it's not in the books, either. It's like…" She shakes her head. "They should spend more time." And her jaw sets in a familiarly stubborn way.
"Probably another hold over from those times when women weren't allowed on dragons other than golds. We're poor frail things, and we need big strong males to protect us." Sorrin puts on her best attempt at a simpering face, and then rolls her eyes, clearly thinking such stereotypes are ridiculous. There are still a number of riders who wouldn't mess with her, but… she is probably the most intimidating of the Weyrwomen, if only for the fact that she spends her spare time breaking runnerbeasts. "You're a big girl, Sori, as much as I'd like to pretend you're still chasing around after ferrets and coming in muddy." The older rider leans her head against her hand. "Part of growing up means figuring out how to handle the big problems. And you've got it worse than anyone else because you decided to follow in my footsteps. I'm surprised you didn't learn the lesson from me about how tough this life can be." Sorrin smirks, "Then again, you're as stubborn as I am sometimes."
Reaching a hand out, Sorrin moves to stroke her daughter's hair, "It will get easier, you'll learn control, and so will they." Then, with a laugh, she offers, "At least be glad you didn't impress a green."
Soriana snorts dismissively to that particular idea. Frail? Hah. But then, she's the one who, when she realized life was dangerous, decided to throw herself into guard training. Not that she's entirely kept up on it, but Ka'el can certainly attest she knows how to throw a punch. If it's leftover from those olden times, "It should change." She nods to herself, firmly. Change is coming. Sothere. That stubborn expression softens as Sorrin continues, and Soriana turns her head to look that way. There's a bit of a rueful smile - of course she's a big girl. Of course… of course there's problems. Maybe it's a rueful frown, now? But… "I didn't mean to." Not like this. She sighs, leaning slightly into the touch. "Besides…" A crooked smile. "When did I ever take the easy way?" Easy is a synonym for boring. Sure, she could have walked along the edge of the ditch instead of scrambling through the vines and mud, but then she never would have found all those interesting rocks - or that ferret, either. There's a smile for not having a green, and then a sigh. "Poor Idrissa." She shakes her head. "The dragons choose. I guess… we've just got to figure out what to do with it."
"Well, be glad you weren't born before the last threadfall, dearheart." Sorrin muses, "I think you and I wouldn't have fit in very well back then. The Weyrs have come a long way." History is one of those things that the older Weyrwoman spends her time looking into. If nothing else, the mistakes of the past can teach ways of handling things better in the future. Besides, she's one of the few that doesn't mind moldering old hides - it's a fair bit better than moldering runner stalls.
Sorrin does chuckle softly, nodding her head for the fate of all greenriders. "Sometimes, it makes me glad that Yumeth has her issues." She leans in though, whispering, "Don't tell her I said that." Too late. Her gray eyes move as if she's listening to something from somewhere else - likely a tongue-lashing from her dragon. "But you're right. The dragons choose, and I can't think of anyone better. You're a strong girl, Sori. Just don't expect to be perfect at everything right away, alright? You've got us old farts to fall back on if you need help."
"I suppose not," Soriana says of that distant past. "Still… just because things are better doesn't mean they're right." After a moment, her lips twitch into a smile. "But it's a start." Why not change the world? It doesn't seem so hard, at eighteen turns. All the struggles of the past… well. They're different.
Soriana nods about Yumeth, and then the change on her mother's face draws out a smile before her own expression gets distant for a moment, reaching out to check on Luraoth. The smile changes from amusement to fondness, even if it's touched with a tinge of something almost wistful. The flight may be over, but Luraoth is not unchanged by it, her thoughts turned from proddy to the beginnings of her brooding. It's not a bad feeling. It's just… different. Soriana draws her attention back to this moment, and smiles. "I used to say that all the time. I don't think I knew what it meant, really." She shrugs one shoulder, and looks at Sorrin for a long moment before sighing and looking away.
"I know. I just… I don't want to mess things up, because…" Soriana trails off for a moment, then laughs briefly as she looks back to Sorrin. "Because they call me ma'am. It's so weird. And I tell them not to, but people started doing it, and so it's like… it's like they think I know what I'm doing. So I don't want to let them down."
"Things can always get better. Sometimes they just don't get that way as fast as we'd like." Ah, to be eighteen again. Things were different, but some things never change. "Just be careful, alright? I know you don't need to hear my old stories, but take care with that dragon of yours." She'd been careless, and it had nearly cost her and Yumeth their lives. In the end, it cost them their place at the Weyr, and may have played a role the older gold's troubles with her flights.
"This first brood of hers is going to be an interesting time for the both of you. Just don't be afraid to ask for help." Sorrin reaches out then, to tap her daughter on the nose. "You'll have to use that strong will of yours. Get her used to letting people near her eggs and reassure her when she thinks that all the candidates are idiots." It happens.
"And you'll mess up, love. We all do. Just take your time and learn from it. Just be glad you aren't like some of the young girls up north. They impress a gold, and end up with a Weyr not long after. I can't imagine the stress those girls go through."
Eighteen can be a time for impatience. It can be a time for carelessness, too, but Soriana seems earnest enough as she nods. "I will," she says to the caution. Whether she is, when the moment arises and she's actually doing whatever it is she'll do… time will tell.
The nosetap makes Soriana smile as she reaches up to nudge her mother's arm away. "Luraoth's always telling me the good side of people." Any people. Whoever they are. No matter how much Soriana wants to roll her eyes at them. "I'll do the same for her." Turnabout's only fair? Soriana considers, thinking back on when it's been others, to her dragonhealing lessons. "I guess I'll get used to the sands…" she says, and then her eyes widen. "In summer." The sands are hot enough in winter, but nooo. Soriana makes a not-terribly-mature face, and gives her head a shake… and then another one. "Me either. At least if I mess up, I know you or Thea can fix it." Probably. As long as she doesn't screw it up too badly. Soriana hehs. "Not that I'm planning to. But… yeah." A sigh, and then she smiles. "I will ask." There's a brief pause, and then candor insists she add, "Or try to, anyway." Sometimes she just wants to fix it herself! Eighteen's like that, too.
That's about as much as a mother could hope for. While Sorrin's live has been full of troubles, Soriana has never been one of them, no matter how much trouble she gets into. The older Weyrwoman glances over at her desk, and then seems to ponder the prospect of getting up. "Tell you what? Go take the day off, love. Weyrwoman's orders. If anyone asks, tell them that I threatened to ground you if you didn't get that dragon of yours to the sea for a proper bath." Pushing herself up, Sorrin can almost hear the creeks in her joints. She might look younger than her age - it's one of the benefits of the Pernese, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel it sometimes. "Unfortunately, I've got paperwork to handle. So you, my darling, go do something you enjoy."
"Couldn't very well take her if I was grounded," Soriana points out, but it's with a smile. She doesn't take much convincing; it's not like the Weyr will fall apart without her. Some days, Soriana's actually more help than hindrance, but there's still plenty where she spends as much time asking questions of the others as she does doing useful work. At least the useful ones are increasing… but this doesn't have to be one of them. "Okay." The creaking is still quiet enough that it doesn't reach her ears, and the youngest Weyrwoman of Xanadu hops up from her chair rather more easily than the eldest - and with more energy than when she sat down, even. The bruises? They'll get better. So will everything else, and she's got help while it does. Soriana steps over once again for a hug, but this one is a lot less needy, more just affection. "Thanks, mom." Her lips curve, afterward. "Ma'am." And Soriana gives a teasing grin and salute before she heads out. Weyrwoman's orders, after all!
Sorrin returns the hug, a smirk toying the edge of her lips as she rolls her eyes at her daughter's addition of 'Ma'am'. "Get out of here, you." She murmurs, releasing the girl. That leaves her alone with her paperwork, just the way she likes it.