FTW LC>>"Disgusts you!" Sanriel repeats gleefully. "Thank you." She goes about digging through the bag, locating a rare bottle and replacing it's lid with a nipple. Apparently someone invested in Cedriel's arsenal. "If it's all in his head, why do you suppose M'ial chose /you/ to hate?"
FTW LC>>C'daer smirks. "Because I impressed bronze my first time standing, and he impressed brown his second time. He has some.. weird.. hang-up about browns and bronzes. You should have seen the hissy fit he threw when I mentioned that browns don't catch senior queens."
FTW LC>>Sanriel shakes her head. "Dragonriders. Ilesyn is right, though - Ooh!" Sanriel almost literally squeals with her amusement at the news she's about to impart. 'You will not /believe/ what I stumbled across today!"
FTW LC>>He peers over at her unexpected outburst, questioning warly, "Yes?"
FTW LC>>"/Ilesyn/ was /Searched/!" Sanriel announces, as though the world should crumble around her feet at the news. "/Ilesyn/!"
You amble northwestwards to the bright and cheerful living cavern.
As if on cue - and to deny this dramatic statement - Ilesyn stride into the caverns, sans candidate knot. At a glance, there's nothing different at all-- she's still a Journeywoman healer, and one who is, at this moment, striding confidently towards the hearths, where she pours herself a mug of cider.
Maeri lets out a cry, oddly appropriately, and Daer snorts, "You're kidding. There's no way she'd ever agree." He lifts his daughter to his shoulder, patting her back; Sanriel and he are settled by the fire, both with babies.
Sanriel stares warily at Ilesyn. She called her forth, it seems. "J'van!" She announces dramatically, hoping it'll work this time, too.
Ilesyn falters in front of the hearth, just a few steps away from the pair, her back stiffening. She says nothing in response to Sanriel's cried greating; instead, she turns around, cider in hand, greeting both Weyrlingmaster and Weyrharper with a civil nod.
C'daer follows Sanriel's glance and says, with an air of superiority, "See, she's wearing no Candidate knot. Just a piece of random rumor. J'van, what?" Maeri subsides into hiccupy burbles as she stares at the Candidate. "Er, hello, Ilesyn."
"Never mind," Sanriel shakes her head, though she does glance at the bowl entrance. Nope, it didn't work. "It surely /is/ true, isn't it Ilesyn? Maykara and, what's her green's name? Celisth? Ceriath? Anyway the two of 'em searched her right before my eyes! So, Ilesyn." And her attention is drawn to the mindhealer/candidate. "Going to join the ranks of the mortally insane?"
Ilesyn may colour, just slightly, at mention of a candidate knot, though she manages to recover with a calm smile. "Do you believe /everything/ that you hear, Sanriel? Surely that's beneath you." A rather wary glance is given, not to the adults, but to the babies, her nose wrinkling. "I assure you, I am certainly not insane."
"If it's true, she would have changed her knot," Daer says to Sanriel as if Ilesyn wasn't standing right there. "Either that, or she's too mortally embarrassed to admit that she, too, wants a chance at dying to protect Pern."
"Probably the latter." Sanriel responds to Daer before turning back to Ilesyn. "Well, when it comes from you, I do tend to believe at least /portions/..."
"I most certainly do /not/," avers Ilesyn, truthfully, sitting down in a nearby seat, her cider nursed in the cupped grasp of her hands. "So you believe other people, over me? Now, here we have proof that rumours do indeed irrevocably damage a reputation-- for no matter what /I/ say, /you/ will not believe me."
C'daer peers over at Ilesyn. "So you're saying that Sanriel's lying and she didn't watch you being Searched?" He joggles Maeri, gently, as he waits for an answer, mentioning, "That'd be damaging to her reputation, certainly."
"Considering your very /vocal/ rejection of the dragoniding populace - despite living in a Weyr - combined with the fact that I /saw/ you Searched, I could expect nothing less than for you to lie like a bearskin rug!" Sanriel retorts, utterly ignoring C'daer in trying to get her retort out.
Ilesyn opens her mouth to say something further, and then shuts it again. "One way or the other, it's damaging to reputations, so I rather think it's better to let the issue rest, don't you think? As you can see, I do not wear the knot of a candidate, nor do I intend to." Sanriel's comments draw only a roll of her eyes, around the edges of her oversized mug.
"In which case, you -are- being less than truthful, Ilesyn. If you're a candidate, it is required of you to wear the knot of a Candidate, so that the Weyr is informed of your status," Daer instructs in his sternest voice. "There are reasons for these things."
Satisfied that her position is established, Sanriel leans back to watch C'daer scold Ilesyn. Bottle finished, she sticks the nipple in Cedriel's mouth. There.
Ilesyn says nothing. This puts her in, rather plainly, a difficult situation. It takes her some time, but finally she manages to proclaim, "I am wearing the knot I have rightfully earned. No one can take that from me."
C'daer eyes distractedly over at Sanriel, asking, "You feed him -bottles-?" before latching on to his conversation with Ilesyn again. "Did I say you hadn't earned it? Did I say you had to throw it out the window? But if you're a Candidate," he's stil not entirely clear, "you're not going to be doing any Mindhealer work until after the Hatching, and so it's.. advertising something you can't do."
"Why can't she?" Sanriel protests. "It's not like she'll have anything better to do..."
"If I was a candidate," responds Ilesyn, perfectly calm-- her eyes may have a spark of something to them, but her voice is level, "And I say /if/, I would not stop my work at all. I worked all the way through my ca-- er, in situations in the past. Indeed, I think candidacy would be quite an exceptional front for a variety of research projects I could take on." Sanriel even earns a nod. "Exactly. I do--wouldn't."
C'daer shakes his head, "Candidates have chores for a reason. Mostly to keep them out of trouble, which I'm sure is necessary in your case. I sincerely doubt the Weyrleaders will take kindly to you counseling patients." He only gives a snort at 'research projects' and wiggles his toes towards the fire.
"If I had a son, which I don't" despite the baby in her arms. "It wouldn't stop me from accomplishing /my/ work. Why should Ilesyn be hindered by requirements that were obviously /not/ set up with someone like her in mind?" Sanriel continues, switching sides abruptly.
Ilesyn positively blinks at Sanriel's support, though she's wary in expression. Nonetheless, she adds to the Harper's words, "Should I be a candidate, it would not, undoubtedly, be for the purpose of Impressing a dragon. Special circumstances call for special considerations. I am /not/ like your average candidate."
"And," Daer inquires, suddenly all sweet-voiced, "have you talked to the Weyrleaders or even the candidate coordinators about 'special circumstances' for the Candidate who's so much better than all the others? I am telling you that the rules and guidelines of Candidacy were set up for good reasons and should not be trampled on simply because someone thinks she's got a right."
"She didn't say better, just different." Sanriel protests. "Now you sound like Iles-oh, wait. In any case, /I/ think her age and... Experience. Should count for something. Just because the Weyr has some misguided idea that she would make a good greenrider or -whatever- doesn't mean that they should deprive themselves - or she herself, for that matter - of her skills. She's been useful. Perhaps useful is too strong a word. She's been... Present... In her position for longer than those eggs have been on the sand. Why should they take priority."
Ilesyn merely nods her head. "My plan is two-fold," she explains, clearly. "Firstly, that I am able to get access to the candidates, and the candidate barracks, thus able to refine and develop my paper from nearby. Secondly," and at this she smiles, "I prove my sanity to Ceilath and Mioneth, by standing on the corner of the sands, and not Impressing. I shall talk to the Weyrleaders about it, most certainly." Evidently, she has given up on denying her search, for the present. Again, Sanriel's words draw her quick nod. "Exactly. I am needed far more as a Mindhealer than as yet another candidate to do chores. Though I /have/ been useful."
C'daer replies to Sanriel, forcefully, "They take priority because that is what Candidacy is about. Not mindhealing. If Ilesyn wants so badly to be a mindhealer she should have stayed a mindhealer, and if she's accepted Search, she ought to face up to the consequences. Doing otherwise is making a mockery of the Weyr. Not that she doesn't do that anyway. She can do her.. thing.. in her -spare- time. Candidates have a little bit of that."
"It seems to me as though the /Hatching/ is about that. The rest of Candidacy is to keep the candidates about and useful - and weed out the bad ones. As we've already established how Ilesyn fits into the Weyr and that she is, in fact, bad... I really fail to see why you're so adament about it. /You/ don't have to deal with her."
Sanriel says.
In Irritation.
Ilesyn, again, rapidly nods to support that which Sanriel says, though the comment that she is 'bad' draws something of a huffy frown. "What Sanriel means," she puts in, "is that I've more or less been forced to stand. All of us know that I'm not going to Impress; indeed, that I would /refuse/ to, so there's no need to try and train me up in candidacy, since it won't matter. All I have to do is stand."
Osasune ambles in from the inner cavern.
Osasune trit-trots in, singing quietly to herself and making odd gestures with one of her hands. Practicing chords, actually.
C'daer drums his fingers rapidly on the table and says shortly, "If we make an exception for one Candidate, we have to make an exception for all of them, and then we might as well just herd all of teenage Pern onto the sands and say, 'HERE little dragonets! Have some Candidates that don't give a care about any of our rules and traditions!'" He harrumphs, and rocks little Maeri again.
"Why do we have to make an exception for all of them? Since when is life fair?" Spying an innocent, she calls sharply "Osasune! Come here. Were you a crafter particularly qualified to do... Something... And prevented from doing so because of a rule that you weren't particularly subject to anyway, would you agree with C'daer?"
Ilesyn opens her mouth to say something, but shuts it as Sanriel takes charge, merely smiling brightly, a cheerful enough smile made in greeting to Osasune.
Osasune pauses on her way to the serving table, forehead wrinkling as she looks between Sanriel and C'daer, with a confused stop at Ilesyn every so often. "Umn? What rule? Er?"
"Exactly what do you mean, Sanriel, 'weren't particularly subject to'?" Daer nods absently to Osasune and postures, "What if Ilesyn impresses, eh? What then? Would she be able to just put her lifemate to the side and continue Mindhealing? Candidacy is to prepare one for being a dragonrider, not to do crazy reasearch projects on the other candidates."
Osasune's eyes widen, and she peers at Ilesyn. "They found out?" she hisses.
"I thought that's what weyrlinghood was for." Sanriel protests. "Candidacy is for the Weyr to have some free labor. Those lucky enough to Impress will be free labor for the rest of their /lives/."
"But I /wouldn't/ Impress. I'd even stand right by the exit to the sands, so it was almost as if I wasn't there at all." Sanriel's words draw further rapid nods from the Mindhealer, who apparently agrees with every word. Osa's query draws something of a pause. "Uh--" she begins. "Sort of. Don't ask questions; it's safer."
"Candidacy," Daer starts in on lecturing again, "has several purposes. First, it accustoms those who aren't from a Weyr to the environ. Second, it helps the Candidates get to know each other, so that when those who Impress are weyrlings, they are all familiar with each other and know how to work together somewhat already." He pauses for a breath and a drink.
Considering C'daer to be digging his own hole at this point, Sanriel relaxes. "Exactly. And Ilesyn applies to -any- of that /how/?"
Osasune's forehead wrinkles. "Uhhh..." She pauses, then edges toward the serving table. "I'm so hungry!"
Ilesyn once again can do nothing but agree to Sanriel, though she adds, "Even if the second did, I would still get to know the other candidates, through observation-- I would insinuate myself into their life, in order to better understand it." Osa is smiled at. "Remember: you're on a diet."
Osasune's head bobs. "Uh huh. Diet. Yup." She starts taking some greens and a roll.
C'daer clears his throat. "Not finished," he says irritably. "Third, it provides the Candidates with an intimate view of how the Weyr works, so that if they impress, they don't take the lower caverns for granted. Now, if Ilesyn doesn't have any interest in impressing, it is -my- view that she is corrupting the process of Candidacy and compromising herself by agreeing to stand."
"Ilesyn, corrupting..." Sanriel resists making the obvious comment, though barely. Turning back to that individual, she asks "Couldn't you do your research from your office just as easily? And wouldn't merely being in the Hatching cavern accomplish the same thing as standing in the entrance?"
"I could," agrees Ilesyn. "But that does not help the fact that my reputation has been tarnished by rumours that I am insane. In order to defeat those rumours, I need to prove that I am not dragonrider material." Logic - Ilesyn's strong suit. "I am /not/ corrupting the process, I assure you, Weyrlingmaster. In fact, I am attempting to aid it, by providing accurate information about candidates, and how their time can be spent with less trauma, and an easier adjustment into weyrlinghood. Surely my bending of the rules slightly is worth /that/."
Maeri starts to cry again, and Daer says, "Time to take her to the nursery - I'll be right back." After standing, he turns to Ilesyn and says with ice in his voice, "Listen, Candidate. If by some miracle you happen to impress, know that there will be -no- bending of the rules under -my- thumb. Eh?" He turns crisply on his heel, stalking towards the lower caverns with his dander up.
Osasune's forehead scrunches; she returns to the area with a plate. "People think you're insane because...?"
Osasune's eyes widen as C'daer speaks, and she peers at Ilesyn with shock.
Sanriel, also, looks to Ilesyn. "Well! I don't think we won that one, my dear."
Ilesyn smiles, almost sweetly, after C'daer's retreating back. "That won't be an issue, I assure you," she announces. "Thank you for our support." And that - apparently - is said honestly; evidently, she's going to take his departure as tacit support, whether or not she knows better. Osa's glance, and her question, draw a wince. "Uh-- I'm going to be doing a little research, Osa. It may require people to call me candidate, from time to time." She smiles at Sanriel. "It's just a matter of how you take it, dear."
C'daer, disappearing through the exit, gives no sign other than his already stiff shoulders that he's heard Ilesyn.
Osasune puts her plate down and sits heavily. "You got SEARCHED, didn't you?" Osasune demands. "That's why you were in the barracks the other day. You got Searched and you're going to research Candidates and - and - and - a dragon might Impress you! And then you'll be trying to be a Mindhealer with this dragon trotting after you. 'Oh, Ilesyn, I'm hungry!' she wails. And then she tries to mimic Ilesyn's tone. 'Well, Bisquickth, are you truly hungry for food, or companionship?'"
Sanriel snickers and turns her attention to the baby, pulling the nearly-empty bottle away and lifting him to her towel-covered shoulder to burp. "You're frighteningly close to the mark, I fear." she intones. "Burp, will you!"
"Um." Ilesyn has been getting lost for words far too often, since a certain unfortunate event. "That's one way to put it," she admits, "but really, it's just a research project, and there's absolutely no chance of Impression or anything. I'm just proving a point, and being valuable to weyrleaders all over Pern, with my research." Frowning, she adds, "Bisquickth?" Then, to Sanriel. "Burp? I am /not/ going to burp."
"Not you, burp," Osa says. Her forehead scrunches up. "Why don't you just turn Candidacy /down/ and research by just staying with Candidates?"
The bronzerider meanders, Maeri-less, back out from the lower caverns, looking at least marginally happier. He stops by the serving table for a glass of wine - heaven knows he needs it dealing with this crowd - and heads back towards them, reclaiming his chair with a semi-amiable grunt.
"Good point." Sanriel gives the baby's back another good thump, and he lets out an inspiring burp. In her ear. Grimacing, she lays Cedriel back down and removes the towel from her shoulder two-fingered.
Ilesyn shakes her head, with a sigh. "I don't think they'd let me do that. It'd be worse than what I'm going to get, as it is. Besides, I have to actual stand. I need to prove my point." She avoids glancing at C'daer, instead sipping at her cooling cider cheerfully. "I'd really rather just observe though, it's true."
Sarine ambles in from the inner cavern.
"You're going to get a dragon," Osasune says, munching on a crunchy green thing. "You're going to get a dragon, because /clearly/ a dragon will be attracted to your non-insanity and logical mind, and then - no more Mindhealing! Flying Thread and tossing around sacks of firestone!"
C'daer chips in, "I think she thinks she needs to have the Candidate experience to understand them, yet she wants to be special and not have to do any Candidate chores or wear a Candidate knot." He swirls his wine, and adds, "She can't have it both ways."
Sarine walks into the living cavern carrying a middle sized pile of clothes. The top folded garment appears to have a very large hole. She looks around and sees people she knows, and a little baby she doesn't, and heads in that direction. She smiles at the group when she reaches them. "Mind if I join you? I have to do mending, and I figured I'd do it where there was a lot of activity." Her nod indicates the living cavern in general.
"Can anyone." Sanriel leans over, squashing Cedriel just a bit as she gathers up her things. "I ought to... Sarine! Don't tell me you're a Candidate, too?"
"I /don't/ need the candidate experience. I've had that." Ilesyn's perfectly calm in admitting that, now. "I just need to be able to observe, from close up. Find me a way to do that, and be on the sands for the hatching, Weyrlingmaster, and I won't be a candidate anymore." Osa's comments draw a horror-filled expression. "No. That's not going to happen. As I said, I'm not going to Impress. I wouldn't let it happen to me. I'm just going to be there to prove my point."
C'daer looks at Ilesyn, and half-leers, "You won't have any choice, if some insane little dragonet wants -you-."
Osasune's forehead scrunches further, and she takes a vicious bite of her crunchy green before waving it in Ilesyn's direction. "It could happen!" she protests. "Er... hello, Sarine. Do sit?"
Sarine smiles at Sanriel. "Okay, I won't tell you. Nice to see you too Sanriel." She grins at the Harper and her baby, before turning at Ilesyn's words. "So it's true you accepted search? I didn't think it would ever happen, from what you've said to try to convince others not to accept. But I think it'll be nice having you as another candidate. Maybe you can cure Flora out of her homesickness." She nods with C'daer. "Isn't that the point, that it's their decisions and not ours?" She smile at Osasune. "Thanks." And with that, she does.
Irritated at being squashed, Cedriel lets up a vocal protestation. "Excuse me," Sanriel grumbles, taking child in one arm, bag in the other and vacating herseat near the center of the group. "If you're here to stay for awhile, Sarine, stop by my office please?" And with that, she's gone - Cedriel's protests echoing afterher.
Ilesyn regards C'daer levely. "Even I don't believe that dragons are insane. Except, perhaps, Leyrith. Which means that that is altogether unlikely. Beyond which, surely if there is a dragonet that wants me, it will want me whether I am in the galleries, or on the sands, which means that at least if I'm on the sands, I can prove my point more obviously, and in a way that looks better for the weyr. Better to risk me being on the sands, than have a dragonet rush into the galleries, creating a potentially embarassing scene, when I walk away. No, Osa, I don't think it could." Sarine is given a half smile, somewhat hesitant, though into her cider, her gaze is sharp.
"Goodbye, Sanriel!" Osa calls. "And, and... Leyrith. Insane. See? You could Impress Gold. There could be a gold and you could Impress it and be a Weyrwoman!"
"If a dragonet wants you, Ilesyn, then I'll believe that dragons have the capability of insanity." Daer says this with a level, irritated stare at her, and then looks around to note Sanriel's back and Sarine's arrival. "Oh. Hi, Sarine."
Sarine blinks at Sanriel. "Um...I wonder what that's all about." She nods at Ilesyn. "You have a point there, about the dragonet wanting you whether you're there or not. At least that's what I believe. You're just making it easier for it...or in your case, proving your point I suppose." She grins at Osasune. "What an image. But do we really want another Leyrith around. Not that she's probably all that bad when she's not on the sands with a clutch." Obviously Sarine doesn't know much about that gold. She smiles at C'daer. "Hello."
"I'll prove to you that dragons aren't insane," promises Ilesyn. "I'll do my normal jobs, observe candidates, and then step onto the sands with them, proving to you, as only a Mindhealer can, that they are not insane." She says this before responding to Osasune's comment, probably because the horror on her face needs time to settle into something else. "Now, now, Osa. I don't think there is a gold egg on there. Besides which I don't think it bears thinking about." Sarine is nodded at, quickly. "Exactly."
C'daer inserts, "And you can't do this with full-grown dragons? I think you maybe -want- to stand and just aren't admitting it, with all the excuses you cook up." He slouches back in his chair, continuing to drink his wine. "That, or maybe you have a crush on some Candidate."
"Weyrwoman Ilesyn," Osasune says, nodding.
Sarine smiles. "That's true, it didn't particularly seem like there was a gold egg on the sands this time around. But then again, I don't think it was quite certain if there was one when I was a candidate, but that was the clutch Andariel impressed at." She blinks at C'daer. "I hadn't thought of that possibility. But it seems like being a candidate too isn't a very efficient way to deal with it. I think we should give Ilesyn some credit, and I don't think we usually question a candidate's reasons for accepting search."
Ilesyn regards C'daer, very carefully. "I think not. The /only/ reason I am going to stand, is because my professional life is at stake. If people consider me insane, thanks to some things that were said, then who is going to be willing to consult me? My /career/ matters. Nothing else." Osasune's words draw another flinch; she shakes her head, pushing herself up from her seat, kicking the chair back. "You know my reasons. You also know why I will not just be 'one of the candidates'. I'm making sacrifices, to save my career. That is all." Stormy is her expression, as she strides from the caverns, shoulders back, evidently absolutely sincere in all that she has said.
You amble southeastwards to the darker inner cavern.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 04:42 PM