An Unexpected Reaction

Xanadu Weyr - Observation Level

Dark blue seats form a semi-circle around the sands below, the lowest row separating from the sands themselves by merely a railing. The seats climb upwards, each row a bit higher then the previous, and they are broken up into sections by 3 sets of staircases. Lights are evenly spaced along the outer wall, lighting the seats and the sands easily, though they tend to be dimmed unless a major event is taking place. A large balcony looms overhead, darkening some of the seats, providing a place for observers of the draconic kind to watch without obstructing the view for others.
When one looks over the railing, the oddly hued sand below can be seen easily, the circle-shaped area of the sands spread out to the far walls, the sand itself a unique mixture of red and white grains.

With the Weyrleader G'ene having taken over the Tavern, the displaced residents from the dorm inhabiting some of the empty offices as well as lingering in the Living Cavern, Niva has taken to the relative peace and quiet of the galleries even though Kilaueth is not yet on the Sands. She's settled part of the way up the sloping section of seats, notes in her lap that she's absently going through, between glances out at the Sands, and the young bronze and gold pair settled with their eggs on this autumn afternoon.

A similar desire for peace has driven Rylavi to the same destination. That, and a curiosity about these dragon eggs she's heard so much about. A rather pitiful looking sack lunch in one hand, the skinny, bony tomboy climbs a few tiers, nodding once to the older rider in blue leathers. She turns, sits and leans back against the tier behind her before pulling a redfruit from her sack and taking a bite into the side.

The papers are eyed again, before she sighs a little, shaking her head and flipping it shut, and setting it on the bench next to her, leaning back against the bench behind her in a position completely unbefitting of her position or her age. She catches sight of the young girl, blinking a few times as she looks her over, hmming softly as she tries to identify her, slowly sitting up to look at her more directly. "Who sent you with that lunch?" The mother part of Niva kicking in as she gets a good look.

Startled by the sound of a human voice breaking the silence, Rylavi jumps a little when Niva addresses her. Turning around and craning her neck at an awkward angle to look up at the rider, Rylavi swallows hard around her mouthful and answers the question a bit defensively. "No one. I packed it on my own this morning before I left." She drops her eyes down to the stone of the tier a moment and then looks back up at Niva. "I think one of the stablehands saw me pull it out of my saddlebags." So there's a witness to her not having stolen anything.

Niva blinks at Rylavi's reaction, tilting her head a little as she waits for the young girl to finish talking before she's finally speaking up, shaking her head a little. "That's hardly a lunch." She says with a little tsk, eyes looking her over again. "Hardly a lunch at all, and you look like you don't ever get enough." Niva frowns hurriedly as she considers the girl with a sigh. "There's plenty of food in the Weyr, you should never have to go hungry." And assumption number one is made.

Squinting up to try and see the rider's shoulder knot - and figure out what sort of trouble she'd bring down on her own head speaking freely. "Begging your pardon, ma'am." Better safe than sorry after the last one. "But I'm not from the weyr." She sits up a little straighter then, lifting her chin with pride. "I come from Black Rock Hold and this is what I could throw together before I left this morning." In secret, before her mother or brothers awoke. Once again, her tone gets a little defensive. "And also begging your pardon, ma'am, but we're not in such a bad way as to need to go hungry. I'm just in trouble for fighting, is all."

A careful look is given over the girl as she offers her explanation, narrowing her gaze slightly at the mention of fighting, before she's shaking her head and sighing softly, turning the rest of the way around. "I suppose that all daughters are quite the then, no matter their age." She murmurs for herself, and sighs. "Well, Black Rock or not, as long as you're in -my- Weyr, you'll have a better lunch than… A redfruit and whatever it is you have." Her voice is firm, in a tone that she's quite used to having taken merely as fact.

Torn between personal pride, fear of retribution on two fronts now and still nursing resentment from the other day's insults, Rylavi takes a beat more than usual to put both pieces together. "Your…weyr…" The words are repeated quietly to herself and when the lightbulb goes on she stands abruptly. "I don't mean to contradict you, Weyrwoman." Because even though the words are a bit more strained now, she knows better than to contradict an adult with the power to punish. "But please, if you knew who I'd been fighting with, you wouldn't be so quick to feed me. I should be going now." The sack is picked up and the redfruit dropped into it. Obviously the girl is ready to take off.

Niva tilts her head up as the girl is quickly standing, shaing her head a little and waving a hand at her as she seems to be worried, and is trying to excuse herself. "From -your- reaction, and -her- description.." Niva trails off, glancing her over again. "I suspect it was my… Darling daughter." A little sigh, and a shake of her head, and the Weyrwoman shakes her head again. "I'm not going to stop you from eating, just because Nicca got too out of line."

"I didn't think you'd be stopping me from what I'd brought, Weyrwoman, just that you might not wish to offer me more from your own ta - I beg your pardon?" Well, this was certainly unexpected. Turning very, very slowly to face fully the older woman, Rylavi blinks her yellow-green eyes several times before her brain catches up with this turn of events. "You're not … I mean, my Da was so … " She swallows hard and looks up at Niva with the distrust of a wild thing. "Why aren't you cross with me?"

"If this was the first time Nicca'd come home from a Hold worse for the wear, perhaps I'd blame you." Niva starts, before shaking her head, slowly counting off fingers until a hold hand is held out, as proof of the point she's trying to make. "But after the second or third time, even I have to admit who the likely problem is." The Weyrwoman gives a rather exasperated sigh, shaking her head and glancing back at the Sands. "Though, I will admit. Usually the girls are older."

Under this kinder, disappointed sort of censure, Rylavi feels an emotion she's most definitely unaccustomed to - guilt. Shifting from one foot to the other, she hazards a glance up at Niva. "She insulted my Lady Johanna, ma'am. I … I'm usually good about not fighting outright - or at least against someone who'd dob me in - but I lost my temper in a really bad way." A bit ashamed of herself for this display of weakness, she bites the inside of her mouth, blinks twice and ventures a more characteristic question. "Has there been any word about my Lady?"

"Knowing Nicca.. I'm not all that surprised." Niva shakes her head again, lifting one hand to rub at her temple idly, eyes closing, before she's slowly glancng back at Rylavi's explanation, a little frown passing over her lips. "No change, unfortunately, the last I heard. Though they did say she was lucky to be alive at all, after the fall." Knowing its hardly the word that Rylavi was looking for, Niva is slowly standing, motioning back towards the main portion of the Weyr. "Please… make sure you eat before you go. Faranth knows you need it." She tsks once more over the younger teen before moving to head down the steps. "I.. I think a visit is in order." If nothing else to find out exactly what transpired between Nicca and the young Rylavi beyond a few blows.

Her eyes close at the harsh reality that she'll very likely never see her Lady again, never head a kind word or have a bit of tart from her basket. It's a hard pill for even a fifteen turn old girl to swallow. "Thank you, ma'am. I'll be sure to pass that news on to my father." And Rylavi is sorely tempted. "If there are some stewed greens or tubers that I could have?" she asks almost timidly. Greens and tubers don't leave a smell on her breath that couldn't be covered by the redfruit. As for the last … "A visit, ma'am?" That part worries her a bit. Even as she too makes her way towards the exit. "Would you like I speak to my Da about coming here to speak with you?" To meet out the appropriate punishments, most likely.

"I wish it hadn't come to this, believe me. I've known Lady Johanna almost as long as I've been Weyrwoman." She murmurs, sighing and taking a deep breath, the girl's interest causing a little smile and a nod. "Just ask in the kitchens, I'm sure they'll set up on you as soon as you enter, determined to fatten you up anyway." And then, she pauses at the final step to glance back at Rylavi, shaking her head and waggling a figure. "I let your Da handle you in his way, at his home. I have my own daughter to deal with." And with that, and a nod, she's slipping out to do just that.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License