May 6, 2003
Shiae delivers R'hyn an ultimatum - and hands him back her knot.

Previous Next

Shiae's out in the cloudy morning, the day fairly bright despite the cover of grey. This morning she's oiling Carianth, the green stretched out in the wallow and writhing her enjoyment of the attention. Woman and green are holding a sotto-voiced conversation, the sort of fond nothings usual in most lifemates.

Arisvath's a gentleman: invited or no, he drawls a soft, lingering greeting before he backswings to a landing upon the ledgetop, tidily drawing wings and tail in about himself so that he doesn't take up too much space. More hesitant is R'hyn's greeting, the bronzerider tumbling down his lifemate's side with his usual lack of grace, clearing his throat as he comes to a halt. He coughs. "Uh, you needed to see me, Shiae?"

Carianth and Shiae both squint at the invaders. The green drops her head with a much put-upon sigh, but Shiae wipes her forehead with one forearm and straightens. "I did," she admits, "But I didn't think you'd get here..." Trails off, gestures at the supine (and disgusted) Carianth. "No matter. How are you and Arisvath today? And if you could stay out of her sun, Arisvath, we thank you." With the sun where it's at now, the bronze would have to hover just off the ledge, but it's the thought that counts.

"Promptness is good," says R'hyn. "Er, right?" Distinctly uncomfortable, by expression, he digs his hands into his pockets, eyes lowering to his feet. "Ah, we're well. And the two of you? I-- we didn't disturb too much, did we? I'm sorry." Arisvath attempts to shuffle a little, but it's not working, and R'hyn adds, apologetically, "He's happy to go back to the ground, if it would suit Carianth better."

Shiae says "Are you asking me, or telling me?" with a bit more sharpness than she usually aims at the Weyrleader. That too is waved off, along with Arisvath's offer. "No need, thank you. She'll be fine. I do want to talk to you, R'hyn - do you want to come inside and sit, or is out here fine?"

R'hyn flushes scarlet, and mutters something that sounds distinctly like it would be an apology - if it weren't quite so garbled. "I, uh-- you want to talk to me, of course. Here is fine. Unless you'd prefer to go inside, of course," he adds, quickly.

Shiae shakes her head and folds her arms, lips pursing. "Here is fine. Actually, that leads well into what I want to talk about." She pauses a moment to let him stew. "/You/, R'hyn. I had enough of being Weyrleader after T'rrent died, and I think it's time you..." She stops again to study the man before her. "I think it's time you stopped relying on me to be Weyleader for you."

R'hyn squints a Shiae, as if he's not quite parsing what she's seeing. "But you're the Weyrsecond, not the Weyrleader," he says, stupidly.

Shiae's smile is tight and thin. "I /should/ be, yes. But I'm not. Quick: when's the next meeting with Igen? Which wings are scheduled for the next two falls? How many of Cardixa's blues have been in the infirmary in the past three months?"

R'hyn's jaw drops, and then snaps shut. He hesitates. "Next sevenday," he hazards, "Ours, and Cardixa's, and--" he trails off. "Two?" Guesses, all of them. "I'll do better. I promise!"

"Six days from now," Shiae nods. "You got that part right, yes." Leaving him to wonder about the rest of it. Evil woman. "You'll do better, R'hyn... /when/? What happens to you - what happens to /Ista/ if something happens to me? Say I don't die - say I'm just in the infirmary for the next half-Turn. Are you going to hold all your meetings down there? Invite all the Weyrleaders to come visit? You'll make Ista a laughing-stock, R'hyn, and I'm tired of covering for you."

R'hyn is beyond blushing: he's gone pale beneath his Istan tan. "Now," he fumbles, fervently nodding his head. "As of today. I'll finish filing those hides, and make arrangements with the Beastcraft like we talked about. And-- and you can take the sevenday off!" His eyes are begging.

Shiae shakes her head, implacable. "What good would me taking the seven-day off do? You'd get about... oh, three days, to be nice - three days into the work, then you'd think, 'Don't worry, Shiae will be back soon to figure it out'." She levels a Look. "I think the best thing for you - for Ista - is if I step down. Now. Today. Assign me to... assign me to Hana's wing. Then get yourself some other rider and make /them/ Weyrsecond. That's the way I learned: in sheer panic and terror."

R'hyn can't, for several long moments, find words to say; instead, he just shakes his head, rapidly, eyes squinted shut. Finally, the words burst out: "No! Please, please don't do it. Give me another chance. I /can't/ do it without you. No one else has the experience."

Shiae doesn't move, doesn't drop her arms. She and Carianth could be carved out of stone, were it not for the lashing tail-tip of the green. "How do you think -I- learned, R'hyn, those six Turns ago? Get... Get E'van. K'ao. Y'ric. /Y'lan/. But get someone, and get him -fast-."

"Or her," says R'hyn, numbly. His expression is truly stricken, and, for a moment, he seems to nearly lose his balance. "I... You won't rethink? There's nothing that I could say to make you rethink?"

"K'ao would be mightily surprised to find himself female. Not to mention Treyuth." She pulls back slightly, studying the Weyrleader as if he were some sort of runner for sale. "If. /If/ you can come to me in two months and be a better Weyrleader than I am, then yes, I will be your Weyrsecond, R'hyn."

R'hyn does turn pink, finally, and mutters, "So, you think I should pick K'ao." His eyes are lifted, seeking Shiae's as if searching for certainty - and hope. "Two months. I'll do it, I promise you. Can I..." He hesitates. "Can I ask for advice, between now and then?"

Shiae's lips purse again. "K'ao," she agrees. "Or E'van. Lesla. Hana. Y'lan. Somebody. /Anybody/. But -choose-, R'hyn. I'm not going to pick for you. I'm tired of holding your hand." And that seems to be the greenrider's last word on the subject. "You can ask all you want - but you'd better clear it with my Wingleader first." And wouldn't that put the tunnelsnake among the eggs, the Weyrleader hovering around a wingrider?

R'hyn swallows thickly, and nods mutely. "I, uh--" he trails off again. "I'll inform Hana that she's got a new wingmember, then," he says, listlessly, as though all of the life has dripped out of his ears.

After a pause, he adds, "You'd better give me your knot."

All the life, all the brains... with R'hyn, it can be hard to tell sometimes. Shiae reaches up to her shoulder and, with a few sharp tugs, pulls off her knot. She holds it out, straight armed and solemn. "If Hana's wing is where you think I'll do best, sir, then that's where I'll fly." No, she's not above twisting that knife.

R'hyn extends his hand to take the knot blindly, holding it gingerly between his fingertips. "I'll keep it ready for you," he murmurs - sounding far less sure than perhaps he'd like to. "Hana's wing," he repeats, a little more firmly. "She needs another green. I hope we get a few good ones in this clutch. We could use them." Right?

Shiae drops both arms to her sides as she steps back, closer to Carianth. "It wouldn't surprise me if Jeirath sired nothing -but- greens, sir. That seems about his style." Her eyes flick past R'hyn to study Arisvath. "You'd better go," she adds, almost gently. "The Beastcrafters expect an answer after lunch. Sir."

For a moment, R'hyn almost smiles - though only for that moment. Stiffly, he nods. "Er, yes." Flushing, he turns back towards Arisvath, then glances back at Shiae, desperately and helplessly. "Of course. I'll leave you to it. Uh. Take the day off - you can start with Hana tomorrow. Greenrider."

Shiae inclines her head stiffly, like he's seen her do in hundreds of polite farewells. "Weyrleader. Clear skies for you and Arisvath."

"And for you and Carianth." It's likely more instinct than anything else. R'hyn stumbles as he turns, mounting Arisvath with a frown upon his features. Just before they take off, he turns back to glance at Shiae once more. Still desperate. She'll... come 'round. Won't she?

Previous Next