Entry tags:

felisa, valenten

Fast Friends
Follow-up to a scene I can't find the log for. Felisa thinks Valenten wants to talk about the petition to have Lord Hrotti declared unfit to hold. She's very wrong.


It's rotten weather at Benden - snow falls in dispirited wet clumps, the sort that slides down your neck and back, wetting clothes from the inside out. The faint wind does little besides give the snow extra oomph and a better angle for attack. Valenten and a shorter, moon-faced man who resembles him are armed with brooms, and the pair are diligently sweeping away the stuff as it piles up in front of the living cavern.

Felisa arrives, bundled against the weather, and smiles sympathetically. "Candidate chores?"

Valenten straightens as she approaches, elbows the other man, who guiltily does the same. Their chorus of, "Evening, miss," is a ragged one. "They asked us to take care of the snow," Valenten continues smoothly, while the other man flat out stares at Felisa's face. "Felisa, this is my brother Vananan, Van, this is Felisa."

Felisa nods. "It's one way to handle it -- a sight better than shovels when it's just flurrying." She smiles toward the younger boy and says "Well met."

Valenten agrees, "Exactly," while Vananan mumbles a 'Well met' in return. "How about yourself? Be careful if you go out too far - the snow's wet enough out there that it's going to get icy."

Felisa says, "Thinking of where I want to warm up more -- the galleries, or by the fire in the nighthearth. One will warm me up more quickly, the other more comfortably."

Vananan continues to stare until Len catches him at it; the older man nudges his brother again and with a start Vananan returns to his sweeping. "It's been a nasty day," Len continues, keeping half of an eye on his brother. "It doesn't get this cold back home for another couple of months. --Which is the one that will warm you up more quickly? We were heading to the nighthearth after this."

Felisa says promptly "The sands -- it's sweltering in there, so you'll be warm and dry in a heartbeat, but then you'll stay roasting."

Felisa adds, "Or rather, the galleries. No going on the sands yet."

Valenten considers this, leaning on his broom. "Huh. But if you go /there/," he waves a vague hand toward the hatching grounds, "You'll still have to cross the bowl again to get back to your room - won't you?"

Felisa nods. "That's the part where I'm glad it's nearly winter -- when you leave the sands, there's a chance to cool down." She glances at Van, then asks "How much longer will you be at sweeping?"

"And yet," Len points out, amused, "you're going there to warm up." He looks around, gauging the snow fall and the amount on the ground. "We could be done now, I suppose. Take a break, anyway - we got the worst of it. I heard someone say it was supposed to stop overnight, so..."

Felisa grins. "Precisely. Go there, warm up, then cool off on the way home. More importantly, though, what's said in the galleries tends not to be overheard. Or were you no longer interested in that train of thought?

Len lifts an eyebrow at her. "Unless there are other people in there," he points out. "You could say the same of the bowl. But I suppose it's warmer there. --Hoi, Van!" With a 'just a minute' gesture to Felisa Valenten crosses to his brother, the pair engaging in low-voiced conversation. After a moment or two Len hands the other man his broom, claps him on the back, and points him toward the living caverns. "Good man. I'll be back soon - get some klah."

Felisa says, "No, it's generally understood that you don't overhear others' conversations in there." Then she grins impishly. "Besides, in there it's warm."

Valenten glances back at her, thoughtfully. "If you don't think it's inappropriate... but I suppose the place is public enough not to fuss any wherries." He watches his brother go, then turns back, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

Felisa takes the offered arm and walks with him into the grounds. Once there, she easily finds an empty area in the galleries and heads toward it. The others in the galleries look up at the new arrivals, but don't move to do anything other than greet when they see her trajectory.

---

Gallery

One of the most elaborate caverns at Benden Weyr, the Hatching grounds are huge overall. The sands themselves are almost an eight of a mile long with a slightly raised dais in the back, all of it visible from the galleries. Handsomely carved tiers of seating retain some of their ancient beauty despite the hundred turns of disuse. Places where cushions for visitors once rested are bare, most of the benches covered in dust and the walls in need of a scrubbing. The room has an abandoned feeling - a once beautiful scene left in disrepair with ornate pillars faded by dust and handsome carvings hidden by spinnerwebs and shadows.

---

Valenten escorts her to her chosen seat, pausing to unwrap his scarf and pull off mittens before he sits down. "I see what you mean about the heat," he says, goggling at the massive cavern. "And the... the secrecy. It's plenty large enough that no one has to sit close unless they want to."

Felisa nods, somewhat pensive. "These were made for times when the Weyr was at full strength and visitors came to watch." She glances down at an egg in particular and says conversationally "So, do you think it will be gold from that egg?"

Valenten goggles at her. "Excuse me?"

Felisa giggles, and points at a larger-than-average egg witha burnished tint. "That egg is the whole reason I'm being allowed to stand this time around. But the odd thing is, we're not quite sure it has a gold dragon in it. Gold eggs are usually larger and separate from the rest. And yet Ashayath seems to be giving it extra attention." More quietly, she notes, "Might as well get talk about it out of the way, since that's what people expect us to talk about."

Len continues to stare as though he's not following along. "--Ah," he manages eventually, and sends the mysterious egg a suspicious look. "Well, I... I can't say as I've ever... they really think it's a gold egg?"

Felisa says, "No one is really sure. That's why they're letting girls stand, though -- if it did hatch a queen and there were no girls for her, it would be very bad." Then she lowers her voice slightly, though not much, "So, what were you and S'dric discussing when my name came up?"

Valenten gapes at her a moment or two longer before his mouth snaps closed. "Ah," he says again, unconsciously following her lead and lowering his own voice. "I told you - we were discussing Moss Valley and Lord Hrotti."

Felisa nods patiently. "Perhaps discussing his ability to hold properly, then?"

Valenten blinks at her and narrows his eyes. "No, we were discussing options for Moss Valley. Lord Hrotti was unable or unwilling to assist us - that is why my brother and I are here."

Felisa ahs, relaxing a bit at that. "What kinds of options were you looking at?"

"Excuse me," Len says after long moments of study in which he considers the young woman. "I apologize for not making myself clear. You're a very nice young lady, but I am already betrothed."

Felisa snickers at that. "That's fine, though if you're standing, you might want to note that if you impress, you can't marry. I'm not looking for a Weyrmate, either, just to head that line of thought off. I'm more interested in how various minor holds and cots are dealing with being beholden to Lord Hrotti."

"I'm not planning on Impressing," Valenten says automatically. "My brother and I - we plan on speaking with the Weyrleader once it's over, and then returning to our home. Hopefully with assurances of assistance come spring, either monetary or with goods."

Felisa cocks her head and stares at the young man. "This is an odd place to look for marks or goods. Usually it's the other way around."

Valenten turns from her to consider the eggs, though it's doubtful if he's actually looking at them. "The Weyr is responsible for the lands it protects," he explains, voice light. "They allowed Thread through their... wings, they call them? and Moss Valley suffers for their actions, or lack of. It's only right they should assist us."

A mix of emotions cross Felisa's face, from bemusement to anger, and pretty much everything in between. Quietly, she says, "First of all, you might consider where the Weyr would *get* the supplies or the marks from. We're not even receiving tithes from Lord Benden, despite the fact that my cot always sent a share for the Weyr. You can't squeeze blood from a stone. Secondly, the Weyr *does* protect the Holds as best possible. The Weyr is seriously under strength, and in case you didn't notice after the most recent fall, there are injured to worry about, not to mention deaths. Third, even at full strength, Weyrs are not expected to fly perfect falls. That's why holds are supposed to supply ground crews -- for the thread which gets through. Unless the Weyr completely failed to show up for the fall, they owe you nothing." She cuts herself off at that point, then starts up again, "Maybe you should concentrate your efforts on the one who hasn't been tithing but whom the Weyr has been protecting anyway, not to mention the one who was supposed to warn you to have ground crews out -- unless he did warn your father, and he just ignored Lord Hrotti?"

Valenten listens attentively, waiting her out, though his expression could be best described as 'patiently patronizing'. "This is why women aren't allowed to hold. I've considered all of that, thank you - but when it comes down to it, Lord Hrotti and Benden are responsible for protecting Moss Valley. Lord Hrotti has refused - and I'll thank you not to insult my father again - which leaves the Weyr. Unless you suggest I should spend the -next- three months hammering on his doors as well? Then Moss Valley will -still- have nothing, and your precious Weyr won't have to own up to its failures." Stiffly inclining his head, he makes as if to stand.

Felisa does stand. "Yes, I would expect you to spend the three months talking about it to Lord rotti. He's the one you send tithes to, and he's the one who actually *can* compensate you. If you have a few minutes, though, I'd like to show you something.

Len considers her higher position, his hands still on his knees. Then patiently, with just the slightest hint of disapproval, "Three -more- months. I've already wasted most of the summer and fall." He hesitates for a moment, glancing around at the others sitting in the galleries, then nods and stands. "I have a few moments, yes. What is it?"

Felisa says "Follow me", and walks briskly out into the bowl, putting her heavy overclothing back on as she does.

---

Infirmary

The infirmary cavern is actually two connected caverns with a short but narrow tunnel leading between them. The larger of the two has fifteen beds in it. Each one is provided with a crisp curtain of heavy unbleached linen suspended from the ceiling, that can be drawn around the bed entirely to provide some privacy. The walls are lined with counters of well-scrubbed wood and shelves that are gradually filling with jars, bottles and boxes. Bunches of herbs hang from the wall to dry giving the room a fresh, aromatic fragrance. There is a hearth with a screen drawn around it completely and a variety of pots and kettles stored on low shelves nearby.
The inner cavern is much smaller and only has five beds, with the same curtains. This part of the infirmary is quieter and more sombre, with the glowlight usually kept low for the benefit of sicker patients, and none of the equipment of the outer cavern except a length of bench for the healers to use and a few stools for visitors.

---

Valenten sighs but slips on his garb again, hurries after Felisa to offer her his arm once more. He's quiet as they cross the bowl, offering only cautions about the footing or greetings to the rare person they come across. Once inside again he drapes his scarf over his arm, free hand unfastening his jacket, and lets her lead the way.

Felisa heads immediately toward the smaller section. She walks to the bedside of a man whose face is half-bandaged, including his right eye. His right shoulder is also bandaged down to the waist. He is groggy from fellis. "Meet R'mit. The other day in fall, he took a hit. Note that it was a long stand -- he's lost his eye and the use of his right arm. Even if he regains use of his arm, there will be turns before he ever can fight again."

Valenten's feet slow as soon as their destination is clear; with a look of distaste he follows Felisa within. That lasts only until she confronts R'mit. "Excuse us," he tells the rider stiffly, his voice all sorts of controlled, and turns on his heel to march straight back out of the room.

---

Inner Caverns

A warren of caverns and tunnels run through the interior of Benden Weyr. Most are in good repair and boast a fresh coat of either white wash or an interesting shade of mauve paint as do many of the doors along the corridor. Those that are no longer serviceable are blocked off by wooden rails. Regardless of the time of day or season, these caverns are perpetually a bit chilly though well-tended glow baskets provide adequate illumination at all times.
The main tunnel here leads up to the living cavern. Branches off of this go in various directions: several lead to the various workrooms used by crafters and weyrfolk; a narrow tunnel winds up in the nighthearth; a long, open corridor passes several rooms and offices before terminating at the dormitory; and so on. Another long tunnel leads to the entrance cavern far to the south, and from there to the road out of the Weyr.

---

Felisa follows. "What's the matter -- can't bear to see what thread does to people? Or dragons? There are some lovely wingsail tatters which I could show you. And I can give you statistics on how long the men and the dragons will be out of commission, and what that does to the Weyr's already depleted wings? SHells, if I knew which fall happened over your precious hold I could introduce you to those who gave their limbs for you. Except, of course, those who may have died. That happens too, both to dragons and to their riders."

Len hisses back, right over her final words, "What do you -think- you were doing? That man... is not some, some /display/ object. Who /raised/ you, girl?" He shakes his head angrily, just once, like he's dislodging a fly, and rakes Felisa up and down with his eyes. "If you'll excuse me," it's not a question, "I need to find my brother. Good night."

Felisa says, "He isn't, no, but you might have talked to him. I was raised by my parents at Distant Whisper Hold, who, I remind you, are down in the valley holdless due to Lord Hrotti's incompetence. But you still refuse to realize that you're in the wrong place? *He's* the one who failed to warn you. *He's* the one who failed to supply ground crew. *He's* the one who stayed in his comfortable Hold and let your fields be devoured. *We're* the ones who lost friends and loved ones trying to protect you, and now you want to punish us further because *he's* refusing to give you your due and so you'll try for the people who actually did their duty because you can't make him live up to his responsibility?""

"Good. Night," Valenten repeats crisply. Then, in case she hadn't quite gotten it he adds, "This conversation is over, Felisa. I don't want to speak of your 'we' and your 'us' when you can't decide if your Holder or Weyrfolk. My quarrel is not with you - whichever one of /you/ you are at this moment. So. Sleep well, and I wish you sweet dreams." He turns again to walk away, down the hallway leading to the residents' dorms.

Felisa heads back into the infirmary, first schooling her expression into one which is common to infirmary aids or healers visiting patients.