It's About Marel...
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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.//


The Weyrleader's office has been minus the Weyrwoman so far this day. Jethaniel has by now given Ka’el his very own key to that door, so Thea's absence shouldn't stop the Weyrleader from entering and doing his work. Should Kanekith bespeak Seryth with queries for the Weyrwoman, the answer will be muted in a swirl of fog with an evasive, « She is occupied. » and a withdrawal of contact. It's during that after lunch lull when Thea slips in. She's likely timed it this way because with everyone normally off on their afternoon assignments of sweeps, drills, hold visitation, diplomatic fieldwork about the Weyr, the caverns and admin hall are usually fairly empty. It's possible she expects she will be the solitary occupant of that shared office for some time. She leaves the lights off, makes her way to her desk and sits, making no move to reach for her inbox. Several moments pass in a semi-stunned staring at nothing before she leans her elbows on the polished surface of her desk, covers her face with her hands and shudders with the effort to continue keeping the emotions safely in check. There will be people knocking soon no doubt…

Ka'el has been busy with things which has kept him out of the office. He doesn't very much like being stuck behind a desk, so being out and about suits him just fine. Little contact has been made to Seryth due to the simple fact that he's surprisingly knew what he was doing today. So he hasn't a clue of Thea's busy-ness, though even if he had, probably wouldn't be worried. When is she not occupied? Now though, he's heading back to the office in a clean pressed shirt and business casual trousers. He has things to accomplish, and now he does need the Weyrwoman. The lights being off is usually a clue that she's not here, so imagine his surprised to flick them off and see her sitting there at her desk. Blink. "Oh…Sorry." Brow arch as he watches her. "Are you alright, Weyrwoman?"

Ack! Light. That means not alone anymore! Thea could pretend she just sneezed, and likely would have if it had been one of the Quasar wingriders dropping off paperwork, which is pretty much what she's expecting. Allergies, she'd claim of her watery eyes and pink-tipped nose. But it's the Weyrleader's voice and Thea is not going to lie to him. Also, normally she'd correct him and ask he use her name - she's probably done that multiple times since he's occupied this office. Heck, she does it everyone, even though she is, in fact, the Weyrwoman. She's known for her informality (unless you're in trouble, then it's a different story). Instead, she lifts her head, blinks back the tears unshed, drops her hands to her lap and takes a few deep breaths while shaking her head. No, she's not alright. "It's Marel and-" She clenches her jaw, while a whole series of emotions flit across her face - confusion, worry, fear…anger.

Before Ka'el can get that door closed, in zips a bronze firelizard who comes to a perch upon the back of the Weyrleader's chair. Alloy, reporting for duty. The door clicks closed and Ka'el gives the bronze a glance before looking back to Thea, noticing that pink nose and bright gaze. He moves over to her side of the office, stopping where one would when giving a report. Not too close as to invade. Not far enough away to be considered aloof. Brows initially furrow as he watches her, though as she speaks, the look morphs into one of utter worry. His eyes widen. "Marel and what?" he says, words sounding rushed. "What happened to her? Is she alright? What has she done?" A thousand scenarios invade his mind, all of which including Marel, injured and bleeding.

Thea rises, holding his gaze with a steady gaze, dark brows knitted and lowered. It's not a glare. Not yet, anyway. She moves past him to pace the room, her strides rapid, hand motions agitated. He will come find that, while rare, when she does this, she's close to her limit. "Marel's in the infirmary," she says and her voice is strained, not like her normally quiet, calm self. "She's been hu-" she swallows, "hurt for a month. A month! And she never said a word." Thea is not a happy camper over this fact, but it seems this is not the part bothering her the most. Her steps are bringing her nearer to Ka'el. Uh oh? "She's been on administrative work since the flight, did you know why?" Random, perhaps rhetorical questions and comments flung willy-nilly. "I can't let her do this again. I- her father-" A short, disbelieving laugh, half-gasped while she shakes her head, tries, but cannot stop the one sob that escapes as she turns away.

She paces and his eyes track her as she does so. Back and forth. Waiting for an answer, tensely, expecting bad news. And bad news is what he gets. "What?" It's a word said in disbelief, not because he didn't hear her. The infirmary? Ka'el grimaces, eyes sweeping to the door again as if with every intention of striding right out of it and heading to the infirmary entrance. And he likely would if it wasn't for Thea and her queer words. Hurt for a month? But that doesn't make sense. His brows lower in confused thought and stay that way as the Weyrwoman approaches him. "Yes. She put herself on desk duty. She said she'd take it easy. She told me she'd already seen the healers!" Had she lied? He should'ved checked the records. And that word 'again' has him growing pale. "Damnit. Is she alright? Has she done something else?" His questions are a whirlwind.

Thea controls herself with difficulty. Swinging back to the Weyrleader to answer his last comment first. "She did. Once. It's festered. She's resting. They've dosed her." Then she draws another breath, one hand sweeping away her other problem. She'll deal. "You knew? And never said? Why, Ka'el?" Icy green eyes narrow. She's upset, angry, even. But she isn't normally the type to fly into a rage. Lucky Weyrleader?

Ka'el frowns at that, the corners of his mouth pulling down. She's done this before? And at the flight. And maybe again, he's still not sure if this injury is the old one or something new. "Ah, Marel…" Both hands slide through his hair, pushing dark strands away from bright eyes as he looks up to the ceiling to exhale a slow breath. His arms fall back to his sides and he's left to stare into her angry eyes. "I thought she would've told you herself," he answers, honestly. "I knew the day after the flight. I went to see her, to check on her. But she had already been seen. She was bandaged and cleaned up already. She told me she already went to the infirmary and the healers cleaned and bandaged her. .. She'd been taken care of." His eyes narrow. "I hadn't realized they hadn't done their job properly the first time." He's angry, though it isn't directed at the Weyrwoman.

Thea blinks, then ahs, her frustrated ire - at least towards her Weyrleader - drains away. Sounding tired, hurt and resigned. "No, she didn't tell me. She's become…independent to the extreme since- since I brought them back from Cold Stone Hold. She doesn't want to need anyone." Her lips thin into a flat unhappy line before she flicks look of confusion at him followed by a short laugh. "Oh, the healers did their job. She just didn't go back for follow up care." And then she resumes her pacing. "Isyriath isn't- they're not-" This is her daughter! She's too rattled to make sense. She turns at the wall, facing him once more. "She and Isyriath are estranged. And she's terrified he'll chase Seryth again. Ka'el. I can't let her do this to herself again!" Not much scares Thea but in her eyes is a very real fear - a mother's fear for the life of her daughter. "I want her transferred out when she's healed enough to ride."

This is information he didn't know. Sure… Ka'el's always said that Marel acted more grown up than any other girl her age that he knew. She put a lot on her shoulders. But he hadn't known just how extreme it was until now. His frown remains, even as the healers are let off the hook. Lucky them. Thea's back to pacing, and he's back to watching her pace, trying to make sense of her words. She's .. estranged from her dragon? He furrows his brows, not quite understanding. "How…" There's a good question to be asked, but it never does get asked. His jaw sets at her request, or is that demand? of her transfer. He's quiet for a long time, expression a quiet stormcloud of thought. He does not reach out for her to comfort her as he might have before. He doesn't immediately console her at all, busy combing through his thoughts. He eventually moves to a table with a pitcher of fresh water that always seems to be at the ready, to pour a glass. "I considered the same at first," he says finally, moving to block her pacing path with his body and offer her the water. "When I went to see her. But where would she go? Would it be best to send her away from her family? Her friends? From everyone she cares about an' who cares about her? She'd feel banished."

The thoughts are disjointed, the information the Weyrwoman gives tumbles out almost randomly. "He wasn't there when I went to see her." Green eyes lift to his, her deep concern for that fact clear in her expression. "He's always with her. So I asked. He doesn't talk to her much, she said and that he thinks he did this to her." She's got to move and thus begins her restless pacing once more. It isn't helping that she's breathing too quickly but the events of this morning, rather than last night, have added to this to bring her to this agitation. She's still wearing the same clothing she wore yesterday, save for the fact her hair is no longer up in the neat coronet she usually wears. Now it's tumbled around her slim shoulders and nothing done to neaten it save for the finger-combing she's done - as evidenced by the absent raking she does now, one hand pulling it from her forehead while her eyes close on a breath out. "And her father is no help. At all." That's ground out in utter weariness. She opens her eyes to see him there with the water. One brow lifts slowly, an ironic look directed from the water to him. He wants her to drink… that? It could be poisoned! The flash of dark humor passes unremarked and she accepts the glass with a murmur of thanks. "Do you have an alternative solution then? Because I don't want her living under a shadow of fear. She'll make herself ill."

Ka'el doesn't know which 'he' she's talking about at first, though her continued rambling gives him some insight after. Isyriath. "Kanekith will seek him," he says. "And he'll speak to him." He has a convincing bronze who has quite the experience with finding just where to lay blame. he continues to watch, his features, although still a little pinched at the edges, strained with thoughts of injured Marel, are remarkably calm in comparison. That water continues to be held. Yes, that water. Poisoned? Hell, he's not drinking it. But the thought of just who placed it here isn't on his mind right now. More improtant things are afoot. He withdraws his hand as it's taken. "No," he answers truthfully. "Unless I've been misinformed, we can't keep dragons from chasing. Seryth won't rise again for a few turns, with luck, so she's safe til then. I don't know if goldriding women get any sort of indication that your dragon is near proddiness. A change in behavior. Moodiness. A sixth sense. If you do, then Marel could use those as warning signs to leave the Weyr as soon as she can." He pauses. "If Marel wishes a transfer, that's a different story. But I'd rather it be her call, not ours." A breath is exhaled. "If she tries to hurt herself again, then it'll be out've our hands, but I rather not put her in exile just yet."

Grimly, "Seryth ordered Isyriath to join us in the meadow last night." But Thea was too busy and rattled to pay attention to whether he did or what Seryth said to him. Some of the pinched tension at the corners of her eyes eases at his intention though and she lifts the glass, takes a sip and then she says, "I'd appreciate him doing so." It's likely Seryth will be also. Speaking of, she shakes her head. "There are signs, but Seryth's come on suddenly. I don't-" She grimaces with distaste and mutters, "I'm told I go acting giddy and drunk, so if you see that…" She's out of it when the time comes, he ought to know that! "Marel is safe for a couple of turns. That doesn't mean she'll feel safe. Or think she is. She'll work herself…" She takes another sip then turns to place the glass on her desk. Leaning back against the edge, she faces him once more. Her mouth is set, eyes conflicted. "I don't want her to leave; I don't want her dead though." And she doesn't want to overrule her Weyrleader, but this is her daughter! So with the attempt to remain calm she says, "There's another alternative that might work if she doesn't get away. I'll speak to Jethaniel about installing an electric lock to her place that she can activate with a panic button. Something on a timer. Something she can't undo when the flight…urges…overcome her."

"Then, it'll be our job to help her realize that she is," Ka'el answers, making it a point to remember to check with Kanekith about Isyriath. If he indeed heeded Seryth or not. If he didn't … yikes. He'll have a heck of a time getting him to listsen to a bronze if he won't even listen to a senior gold. His hands clasp behind his back as he remains standing, eyes set on her as he listens. Seryth does rise quickly. With little warning, in his opinion. Looking for the signs may be hard… but now that he's Weyrleader and sees her far more often now than before, perhaps he can be an early warning system for his friend. "No one wants her dead, least of all Marel herself, I'd figure. I still think our best plan for now is to wait. We've the luxury of time, now that the worst've it is over. She's been seen and cared for. Seryth isn't rising and won't for a while. We can allow her to think on it. Gauge what she'll earn an' lose by leaving. I…like the lock idea," he says, tentatively, "but if Seryth does rise quick, there's no promise she'll be home to lock herself in, or close enough to get there. But still, it's a good idea because she may be." A small smile is offered, the first since he's arrived, though it lasts not long on his face. "Do you need something else to drink?"

With a shake of her head and a frown of continued worry that Thea directs towards the carpet, "I don't want her dependant on Isyriath willing to leave when Seryth rises. He may not want to go and the queens cannot afford to remain and try to make him. And remember, Seryth will be carolling her temptation to him to join her. M'kal can take Marel off somewhere on Xeosoth, if he has to, but where was he last time?" There's no accusation in her question; the rider could have been out on night maneuvers or sweeps for all she knows. "I want her to have options. She'll have time to run home before things get too… overwhelming for her." Still, "We'll all be thinking of it. but Ka'el-" Her pale eyes lift to his, in them mingled her fatigue and a shadowed grief left unspoken, "She won't want anyone else knowing. She's mortified that Mur'dah and I know. You, the steward, M'kal and her family. It stays with us." She draws a long breath, lets it out and then her face relaxes a touch - enough that she can offer a half-smile in return. Something else to drink? "No thanks. I spent the morning plying D'had with enough klah to sober him so I could let him know what happened. I drank almost as much of it as he did." It's all caught up with her now. She looks like she could fall over, perhaps she feels it too, for her fingers grip the sides of the desk where she's half-sitting.

"Hopefully there's time for her to run," Ka'el amends, though not for the sake of being argumentative. In fact, there's no argument in his tone. "I'd wager nothin' as a guarantee when it comes to flights." He sure didn't have any time to run home and lock himself away. Not that he would have thought to. A hand is combed through his hair again before his eyes flit back to his desk. Alloy has made himself at home there, lounging upon the desktop. Luckily, papers haven't been scattered too badly. Blue eyes turn back to Thea's, and he blinks once at her, a difficult to read look on his face. "I'm not sure who you thought I'd think to tell, Weyrwoman. I haven't spoken of this to anyone but M'kal since I found out." If she's looking for a promise that he won't go blabbing, she gets it in the form of a nod. "I'm sorry this flight has brought with it so much trouble for you, Weyrwoman," he offers. "You should rest. Anything you need to have done today can be done in a few hours, I'm sure." Or perhaps done by him. He has his own work to tend to, and some things that will have to wait for a few hours. He moves back towards his desk, waving Alloy on to the floor. "I'll tend to things here, meanwhile." If she does in fact rest.

Thea nods simply, "Hopefully," she agrees about running only to shake her head vaguely about who he'd tell. "I didn't think you had and I wasn't thinking of anyone. I didn't mean-" She's tired, she's not wording things well. She lifts a hand, rubs her face and mutters from underneath her palm, "Marel is just so…private, that's all." She turns to head around the corner of her desk where she sits. Looking across the space to where he is, she adds, "I trust you, Ka'el." And then promptly frowns, "Don't be sorry. I'm not." Things. They happen. She eyes the stack of papers waiting for her attention and her signature. His offer draws her glance, a smile. "Do I look that bad? I'll rest…later." Tonight after she's seen the Steward, stops into the infirmary, finds M'kal, does a million other things. Speaking of, "Do you know where M'kal is today?"

"Western area of Xanadu flight patrol til this evenin'." Ka'el answers her last question first, automatically even. It's as if he checked on this himself! Likely for unrelated reasons. He's back at his desk now and sinks into his seat. Now, for those other things. He doesn't comment on the trust she has in him. That's too much of a thing to tackle even for him right now, and he's in his right state of mind. In fact, most of the things on his mind are too big to deal with right now, and though they simmer just below the surface, another look to Thea has him setting them aside. He shuffles through some papers, skimming a list of names. "He's with a squadron, so if you need him, I'm sure he can be spared." He retrives a pen to jot something down that he's sure to forget within the hour if he doesn't take note. "I'll go with you the next time you visit Marel," he says, looking up from his writing as he speaks. "Just let me know when you do." Marel. Kiena. M'kal. He must take care of his riders. The list grows longer by day. Though luckily, so does his determination.

He didn’t even have to check the wing flight plans! Thea gives Ka'el a look of approval for knowing exactly where his wingriders are at all times. "Just have him report to the infirmary when he returns," she says. The reasons are obvious. Trust - he hasn't given Thea a reason not to do so. Until then, he has it. She knows somewhat of the character of the young man - she has read V'dim's reports and notes, after all - and his own comportment thus far has shown he's taking his new role seriously. She nods to his request. "I'm going to my cottage to get some fresh clothes, then to the bathing caverns. I'll return within the hour. I'll see Marel at the dinner hour." Marel, Kiena, M'kal, yes, they are his riders and he'll care for them. The weyrfolk are also his to care for, something that perhaps he will understand more fully and care about more deeply as time passes.


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