D'len is Tapped

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.

Its shortly after lunch, and the weyr residents are returning to their various jobs and duties, wherever they might take them. Niva is among them for she's returned to her office, and is currently settled at her desk, peering at the appointment calendar infront of her, sighing softly before she goes rummaging through the various piles on her desk, seeming to be searching for something. Nothing is pulled out, however, instead she looks at the list once more, then over her shoulder at the open door, waiting.

Appointments D'len is always prompt for. So right on the nose, the weyrling appears from the hallway into the space of the open door. Lifting an arm, he lightly raps with his knuckles, his one eye locked on the Weyrwoman with a warm smile. A smile he has for everyone it seems, the friendly guy he is, despite Szayelth's best efforts to convert him to evil. Or something. "You asked to see me Weyrwoman?" he asks softly, brows lifting before his head lightly cants to one side. No he did not salute for whatever reason, though the distant look fading in and out might suggest he's keeping his lifemate in check.

Niva almost seemed as if she was going to get up and wander down the hallway, always impatient, to find the green weyrling, but then there he is in her doorway, and the weyrwoman is quick to wave him in, and into a seat. "I did, weyrling. I assume you've been carefully working with the Weyrlingmaters on your training? And learning the sights for the major holds and weyrs, so you two can visit there with ease?" Hands are folded in her lap to avoid any absent fidgeting or searching, while she waits for D'len's response.

With the gesture, D'len quickly moves into the seat indicated with surprising speed and grace. His weyrling training had all but eradicated the softness that had once made him appear 'girly'. There was muscle now, distinct angles, but even with the scar and eyepatch the greenling was indeed still very 'pretty'. "Yes, ma'am." he says just as quietly as before, an audible breathy sound that surprisingly one didn't need to strain to hear. He doesn't so much as twitch once he's completely settled in that chair, sitting up straight and attentive.

Niva watches his movement, and as he settles into the chair, she gives him another look over, before giving a slow nod. "I've been told you've been doing quite well." And then Niva is actually turning to go through things on her desk, pulling an envelope from it, before looking back to D'len. "And, do you feel you've learned what you can? Are you and Szayelth ready to join the ranks of the Weyr?" Of course, if he's not ready, she won't push it.

There's a bit of a bemused expression that crosses over the greenling's face when it's said that he's been doing quite well. Szayelth after all, had a very strong and dark personality, and she'd managed to get out from under his thumb to speak more than a few times. However, there is a blink as the envelope is pulled out, drawing the attention of D'len's visible green eye though it quickly darts back to Niva's face. He presses his lips together to repress the wide grin that his lifemate's overwhelming joy flooding him would have brought to his face. "Yes ma'am, I believe we're ready."

There are always those times when weyrlings get out of hand - in fact, they're only to be expected. But, as long as things are effectively completely, and no one is killed in the process, its generally an acceptable weyrlinghood. As he seems to be confident that they're as ready as the leadership has deemed them, a knot is pulled form the envelope, and she slides the chair to offer him the knot. "Then welcome to Quasar wing, rider D'len." She says formally, a wide smile on her face.

D'len scoots his chair back and leans forward without flourish for the offered knot, taking it in hand and smiling politely now once more. It had taken him a heartbeat or two to suppress Szayelth enough to do much more than stare. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you ma'am." he replies crisply before snapping off a salute. Hey. he'd forgotten earlier, might as well get it in there while he still technically had to salute full riders. Once in position of the knot, he removes the weyrling one from his shoulder and replaces it with the full rider. There is a flush to his cheeks to indicate the pride he feels, but will never express.

"Congratulations, rider." Niva offers as she settles back into her seat, the old weyrling knot dropped on her desk to be dealt with later, as she looks back to him. "Take the rest of the day off, enjoy yourself, and let Szayelth have some fun. Report to the wing in the morning, and they'll begin your formal training." She gives the greenrider a final glance over, with a smile. "I'm sure you'll do a fine job representing us."

Rising from the chair, D'len nods, still smiling restrained and polite. Though he does chuckle somewhat at the thought of Szayelth having fun. The Weyrwoman honestly didn't want to know what the green considered fun. "Thank you, Weyrwoman. I hope to do Xanadu proud." And with one final salute, the greenrider excuses himself and briskly removes himself from the office.

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