A Game of Thrones [Ja'kin]

[Ruby]

It was not dark out. It wasn't stormy, either. In fact, it was quite a mild late afternoon, cool now that summer had turned fully into fall. Quite forgettable, really. Drills were over for the day, dinner not quite begun; the corridors were bustling, people going to and from weyrs, bathing rooms, maybe assigned to some chore or another. It was a perfectly normal, average time for a Wingleader to be checking in with his Weyrleader, especially with a sheaf of papers in hand, like the papers H'nes carried. No one passing by was likely to notice that he was here, or if they noticed, they wouldn't care. Few people took note of Wingleader H'nes - Not Weyrleader, not Wingsecond, not special. Average.

Outwardly H'nes fit the picture perfectly, as he always did. Calm, collected, maybe even a little mystified, a little bored. In regulation flightleathers (perhaps subtly tailored, and certainly clean) he could have been anyone. In fact, it would take almost anyone a glance at his knots to even know what color he rode, and even then they would have a hard time placing him. H'nes was not especially close with anyone in the South, with the exception of his wing. He wished he could have Ar'ren at his side, but that was not possible, today. Ja'kin had asked H'nes to come alone.

That's why inwardly, the Bronzerider was nowhere near as composed as he looked. H'nes rarely spoke with the Weyrleader publicly; the two were cordial but cold. Of course, if H'nes had anything he felt Ja'kin needed to know, there were far more private ways to pass information than chatting in the halls. This must be something bigger, and that set H'nes on edge. Small things were good, could be predicted and managed. Large things changed everything.

Taking a deep breath, the Wingleader probed briefly at Quarth's mind; the Bronze was napping somewhere, or maybe just had his attention focused on something besides his Rider. Quarth, H'nes called, probing again. Wake up, I need your brain. Once a drowsy presence made itself known (he had ben napping, after all) H'nes took a deep breath, adjusted his papers, and raised a fist to knock on the Weyrleader's door. H'nes was ready, he could take whatever Ja'kin needed in stride. Ja'kin was his Weyrleader, it was H'nes' duty to support him however he could.

When the door opened, he nodded, dipping his head and exposing his neck to the Weyrleader for just a moment. They were almost the same height, H'nes slightly taller, a decade older, somewhat broader, but of similar Benden stock. "You wanted me, Weyrleader?"

[rii]

H'nes almost looked out of place when Ja'kin opened the door. The weyrleader was wearing little more than a pair of pants. His brown hair was tied in a runner tail, but a few brown strands had fought loose to fall in around his face. He'd only recently gotten back from his run - the light sheen of sweat on across his skin spoke as much; trust H'nes to be overly prompt in arriving. Ja'kin was never the type to dress up for any occasion. His show of skin could very much be an animalistic approach; show strength, youth, power - express unfaltering confidence and most challengers would find themselves intimidated. Ja'kin often enough made decisions with a pack-like mentality. Anyone with him would have protection, but anyone that wanted to be outside the pack was against him - a threat to be eliminated. H'nes was no challenger. The contrast between the two men and the brief show of neck said as much.

In reality, though, H'nes had just arrived sooner than expected. He stepped back, nodding - his own head went up with the motion instead of down - and invited H'nes inside with a simple sweep of arm. "I thought you would take dinner first," Ja'kin admitted while closing the door. His barefeet made almost no sound as he crossed the room to fetch the shirt he discarded before his run. Should of had Quarth tell Demotaeth they were coming - alas, Ja'kin didn't voice the obvious.

"Have a seat," As much of a polite courtesy as it was an order. Ja'kin slid the shirt on over his head before fetching a pair of glasses. He set both on the table along with a wineskin. The fact that was wine he offered instead of tea or klah spoke for itself. The faint amused quirk to Ja'kin's smile only helped the impression along. H'nes would not like the forthcoming conversation. A curious look went to the papers H'nes held - had the man actually brought him something to overlook, or just used them as a prop to not feel so out of place being summoned at this hour?

A brief glance went to the misshapen green salamandyr perched on the wall near the door. Her red frill opened, a soft croon as she spoke privately to Ja'kin. The gaze returned to H'nes a second later. "I'm having a drudge bring two plates. I'm afraid this discussion will take up most of your evening," And it was never good to drink on an empty stomach. Since they had to wait for the drudge to come and go so she didn't interupt (or overhear) the more dire issues that Ja'kin wanted to discuss, he stalled the inevitable. A brow raised at the papers, "What have you brought me?"

[Ruby]

So different, the two men, even though most would place them in the same generation of Benden's history. The decade between their Impression had made a world of difference, visually obvious in Ja'kin's shirtlessness compared to H'nes' almost (almost) overly formal dress. That is, if anyone cared to notice; the drudge bustling by with a glowbasket didn't seem to care even remotely, nor did the pair of Riders strolling along the other direction. H'nes didn't pay them any more attention than that, although he noted their faces, just in case. Accepting Ja'kin's tacit invitation, H'nes entered the weyr, demeanor changing slightly as the door closed. Less invisible, more curious. "You asked me to stop by after Drills, I assumed you meant immediately. Of course," The Bronzerider added, smiling a little at his own predictability. "I apologize if I'm intruding, I can come back...?"

But H'nes already knew what the answer to that would be, and Ja'kin confirmed his suspicions by retrieving a shirt and offering him a seat. H'nes took it without question, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. He accepted the wine glass with a murmured "Thank you," raising his eyebrows as he did. This conversation wasn't shaping up to be pleasant, if Ja'kin's vague amusement and offer of wine were to be trusted, and if it wasn't going to be pleasant H'nes would rather get it over with. Maybe he should have had dinner first.

Of course, a silent conversation with the pest Ja'kin had attached himself to (H'nes found firelizards useless, and Salamandyrs downright idiotic, although he didn't judge Ja'kin based on the impression - as with Dragons, he knew there was nothing you could do about it once you had it) took care of the dinner problem. This would be unpleasant, then, no doubt about it. He took a sip of wine, tipping it towards Ja'kin in a silent toast before he did. "Then I appreciate the good wine. The Southerners swear by the Blossom vintages, but they're usually too sweet for my taste."

Taking another sip, H'nes leaned forward to pass the papers over when Ja'kin asked what they were. "Half prop, half useful." No point dancing around things like that with Ja'kin, the men had known each other far too long for that. "I wasn't sure what you wanted me for, so I brought a breakdown of my Wing and a schedule of our recent drills, what we worked on, that sort of thing. I assume they're not that interesting to anyone but me, but... just in case?" Glancing at the door - no telling when someone would walk in - he phrased his next statement carefully. "Everything's been going smoothly, even after swapping W'he for Maneta. There's been some tension between her Green and the other dragons, but I imagine that will work itself out in time."

[rii]

Returning to the table, Ja'kin spread the sheets of paper across the wood to look at all of them at once. He took the information in at a glance. With his other hand he took his own glass of win, sipping at the vintage and letting the silence permeate throughout the room. He smiled at the toasting gesture, returning the motion with a nod to accept H'nes compliment. Ja'kin could only humor himself, privately, that H'nes must be eager to know the reason he'd been summoned; but at the same time the weyrleader knew his fellow bronze rider would not want to know that very thing in a candlemark's time.

A light knock at the door drew Ja'kin away to allow the drudge entrance. She place two trays on the table, her eyes briefly glancing over the papers littered there. Purposely spread across the wood for her eyes and mind to take in – to explain to her and all the grapevine what the two bronze riders were doing of such importance that meals had to be taken to them instead. A curious play, as it fully anticipated H'nes coming with such papers from the start. Ja'kin knew the older man a little too well, perhaps, well enough even to have a particular skin of favored wine inside his weyr that night. Knew H'nes well enough to know him not as the well-mannered and dressed man sitting at the table..

A man's character and his reputation could be two very different things.

Ja'kin thanked the woman and saw her out, turning as the door shut to once again approach the table. "Spare me the polite courtesy and shaping of words, H'nes. It will save us both time." Wine skin back in hand, Ja'kin refilled both his and H'nes glasses. "There has been unrest in the weyr, and not just with the Selenitas natives. Our own have been restless - what do you know of this?"

[Ruby]

Had he already drained a full glass? H'nes' mouth twitched sideways momentarily, but he allowed Ja'kin to re-fill his cup. It would take far more than a single skin of wine split between the two of them to get H'nes drunk, not to mention that that was an idiotic ploy. Ja'kin didn't need to get him drunk to get information out of H'nes, and the only other uses for wine - poisoning, messy, and humiliation, which H'nes could handle - seemed highly unlikely. So he drank again, letting his suspicious nature go for the moment. If Ja'kin had two more skins of the same vintage squirreled away... yes, then that would be cause for alarm. This was simply courtesy.

Leaning forward to put his glass on the table and pick at his food (no point in letting it get cold), he nodded once at Ja'kin's request. In private, there was no need to dance around things, to phrase questions about the state of the Weyr as if it were smalltalk about a Wing. And indeed, there it was. "Whispers, grumblings, sympathetic feelings for the natives. Both Greenrider Elisabeta and Wingleader Ur'h have been spotted in casual, and apparently amiable, conversation with Farryl of Green Peppeth. Bluerider Ba'sun spends time with several natives on a regular basis. Bluerider Z'ves is dead, but instead of our people banding together in support of their brother to bring his murderer to justice, they forgave the killer and let it slide. That's just a selection, of course, but possibly the most worrisome. We wanted to assimilate the Selenitans, but perhaps it has gone too far."

Pausing for a sip of wine, H'nes went on. "After the Hatching, the Selenitans stewed in their own hatred; R'kel's poor judgement at the Gather made our own feel as though things have been botched and stagnant, and the increased sympathies with the natives make ours want to leave them in peace all the faster. They have overlooked how important it is to wait, to increase our strength and horde our resources, to maintain full control over Selenitas so they will feel the need to bargain; retaking Benden will not be so easy as taking Selenitas, but I fear that we've been away so long that they've forgotten that not all Riders roll over at the barest sign of trouble." The bronzerider grimaced, draining his cup again. "Not, all in all, a pretty situation."

[rii]

Lowering into his own chair, Ja'kin lightly swirled the contents of his glass around with a slight twirling of his wrist. His own plate of food went ignored, he'd pick at it later when he had an appetite and not earn questions from whatever drudge came to take the plates back to the kitchen. A brow arched at the mention of Z'ves and murder, "If it was indeed murder, the person responsible did it quietly enough not to draw a large amount of suspicion. Z'ves was something of a loose thread in the grand scheme of things - expendable, in short. It is actually better that he died, H'nes. His ilk were more damaging, than help, to our work here."

Cold were the words, but Ja'kin wasn't a man ruled by emotions. He had years of practice of making the hard decisions, of seeing things as logistics and numbers. Z'ves was what the Selenitas feared of the north, and was a man that was also unable to adapt. His type kept the hate very much alive between the natives and wastelanders. Something Ja'kin had hoped would have faded sooner. Amusingly enough, the whole point was to assimilate into one mold. The tone, however, that Ja'kin used give the information told H'nes something else. The outrage that H'nes might feel about losing one of his own was ill placed, and not a matter the other bronzer rider should pursue.

"The hatching is where things went poorly," And tied in with the reason Ja'kin had summoned H'nes. "Millieth's bloodline is weak, and with each clutch she produces more and more mutations that have no place in a weyr. Selenitas's soft heart weakens them. But, even I will admit, there was too much death on the sands." And he'd wanted more of the hatchlings to die. The white that couldn't stay out in the sun, and the one without claws. They had no place in the world and were a strain on the weyr's time and resources. "And the unrest is natural, H'nes. I'd hope to do more in the time we were given, but things have taken longer than expected. As it is, we need to do something to give the impression that change and.. progress.. has been made."

Ja'kin turned his head to carefully observe the older bronze rider, "I have a problem. Millieth was never meant to be the queen of this weyr when we came here." He'd wanted Jingth. "I wanted stronger bloodlines, and after this clutch.. while producing a gold.. is a poor turn of events. Demotaeth loathes mutations ever since what happened at Benden. I cannot reason with him - Demotaeth will not chase Millieth again. It leaves us with a problem of who is going to take my position once Millieth rises again. This is not something that can be left up to mere chance, not with the weyr in this divided state."

Ja'kin was a methodical man, not one that relied on luck.

[Ruby]

"Poison, actually," H'nes said - not something many people knew, but he had ears and eyes wherever he needed them. Ja'kin would know already if he'd asked (and might know anyway, H'nes certainly wasn't his only informer), but as he said, Z'ves was expendable. Not worth looking in to. H'nes, of course, made it his job to look in to things that weren't worth looking in to; Ja'kin had larger concerns, as befitted a Weyrleader. H'nes didn't care about the Bluerider, or his death, although he may have appeared to, simply by habit. As hated and difficult as Z'ves was, however, it was somewhat concerning that no one besides H'nes semed to care. Lack of empathy or lack of curiousity or even lack of bloodthirsty delight, a lack of emotional reaction meant people were thinking, and people that were thinking were harder to control.

Regardless, Ja'kin had a plan, and that was certainly enough for H'nes. The Bronzerider nodded at the Weyrleader's assessment of the hatching; that certainly been a catalyst, a kind of focus of everything that had gone wrong. And change and progress were all to the good, but how were they supposed to make it seem as though that had happened when they could not move... but Ja'kin had a plan, H'nes reminded himself, and kept silent, kept his face neutral, guarded yet intrigued. Clearly he had a part to play here, and he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

The idea that Demotaeth wouldn't be chasing was a blow, but one they could take. They had several bronzeriders at Selenitas, far more of a Wasteland persuasion than a native one. "Sensible. So who did you intend to catch? Kierjaarth will be difficult to beat, and Mi'rah certainly can't be your plan. Although he would be easy enough to control, I suppose, but he's unpredictable, Ja'kin. Not safe. Romeoth's a possibility, but he and K'ian are young, and potentially stupid. After the Gather, R'kel's no option if we're headed for assimilation, regardless of what his bronze can do. So unless you have some devious plot to use Mi'rah in a way he would not approve of, or you want to give K'ian a try," H'nes very nearly scoffed at that, they'd be lucky if K'ian didn't fall in love with some pretty southern belle and abandon the Weyr altogether, "You want..."

A quick mental tally was unnecessary. H'nes had known since he'd asked who could beat Kierjaarth. "Quarth. And me."