You're Gonna Go Far, Kid (Dai's Search Thread)

[holly]

Dairine, to her credit, looked decidedly unimpressed with Isiloth's display, though she at least waited semi-patiently for Siten to finish speaking. By the time she was done, Gigo had satisfied his curiousity and returned to Dairine's shoulders, draping himself across them with a happy thrum.

Finally, once the Weyrwoman had had her say, the young woman gave a sigh that seemed more tired than anything. "While I will admit that you seem to have had your reasons, I still don't see how that excuses messing up MY life. I had a job at Benden Hold that I'll never be able to go back to, because of this seeming desertation. I was having enough trouble there as it was, because of my southern background, now how do you think they'd view me? And word of it will spread to other holds. I've had to fight to earn everything I've accomplished, and suddenly all of it's been reduced to nearly nothing, JUST because a dragon says that I MIGHT be candidate material. So excuse me if I'm not feeling particuarly co-operative or sympathetic. What happens when I don't Impress? You can't just magically make everything better and give me my life back again." So she was being a little harsh. Still, one of the first things she'd had to learn in life was that no one else was going to look after her well-being and best interests, so she had to do it herself.

[saidaltam]

"No, I can't," Siten agreed. "However, I can offer you a new one. As I said, there will always be a place for you here. Southern is in need of a leatherworker, and your skills are more than marginally valueable." Pausing to consider, she added, "Also, I expect that you might give a good tongue-lashing to any rider negligent enough to allow his gear to fall into disrepair, and it would do a few of them I could name a bit of good to hear it." This was added with a small, dry smile. The notion of having a few of her more careless riders dressed down by a small, skinny redheaded girl amused her to no end, though she had the good sense not to laugh aloud over it.

She could understand Dairine's displeasure, but really, what was she going to do about it? At this point, there was nothing left that could be done. Mildly, she added that. "Aside from that... really, at this point, what would you have me do? You're here, now. Would you have me send you north, to a hold that, as you yourself said, won't have you, now? Would you have me abandon you to your own devices, when I can offer you an opportunity to make a home for yourself here?"

[holly]

Dairine gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing slightly. "Home is just a word, nothing more. A place where you currently reside." Someone was a little bitter... finally she sighed. "We'll need to discuss pay, as well as requirements for a workshop, and lodging." Seeming tired, she raised a hand to pet Gigo, though she stilled as a final thought struck to her.

"And what if a green picks me? I grew up in the South, I know what fate has in store for female greenriders. Are you willing to take the chance that exile wouldn't kill me, and you'd end up with a very bitter and determined enemy?"

[saidaltam]

That brought a smile to Siten's face. "Let me assure you, Journeyman--I have plans for that, already. I wouldn't worry too much over the matter." Changing the subject swiftly, she continued, "You will, of course, be provided with whatever workroom you need to do your job, and whatever tools we lack. Lodging, until the hatching, may be taken in the crafter's wing or the candidate's barracks. If neither of these is sufficient for your needs, I'm certain something can be worked out. As for pay..." Siten shrugged. "I'll have to look into what the going rate is for the services of a journeyman leatherworker, these days, but I've no doubt we can manage something amenable to all parties."

In all truth, Siten wasn't at all sure she'd manage what she was hoping to, but she would do what she could to find a way. She had yet to brooch the subject to D'mon, and wasn't altogether certain whether or not she should before the hatching. Something obviously needed to be done. She just needed to be certain that her timing and approach were flawless, lest she fail. It was far too important to risk failure.

[holly]

Dairine snorted softly. "Crafter's wing. I have no wish to be surrounded by silly little girls who wouldn't know the front end of a dragon from the back. And I have most of my tools with me, that sharding brownrider found me when I was working on a few pieces." She grimaced, then added "And one clutch. That is all I will stand for. Afterwards, nothing you say or do can get me near an egg."

The redhead was confident that she wouldn't Impress anyways. Just because she had a flitter didn't make her suitable rider material, no matter what a misguided brown said.

[saidaltam]

Siten felt herself smiling at that. She had looked over the records of her search dragons -- those who had been searching long enough to have records. Though it had only been for one clutch and Jhamith had brought only two candidates, both boys had impressed. She had no doubt whatsoever of the dragon's ability.

"As you prefer," she replied mildly. "I'll have some things commissioned for you. Is there anything you'd prefer in the line of clothing or personal items? Also, you are welcome to come and go as you please, but caution is... more than advised, and I would like to request that a dragonrider accompany you, if you should feel compelled to visit Lidal Hold." She paused, considering, for a long moment, before amending. "By request, I mean that, for your safety and that of everyone at the Weyr, I'm afraid I'll have to require it. You may of course select any rider without an immediate duty to attend to, but it would be more than imprudent to go alone. Perhaps V'ran would be willing to oblige." Smiling dryly, she added, "Though as he tends to keep himself as far from the candidates as possible, once searched, that one may have to be made an actual order." Well. It wouldn't kill him to do some socializing, and she did not want a candidate, especially one as ... volatile as Dairine seemed to be ... wandering Hold Lidal alone.

[holly]

The young woman was fairly steaming all over again. "I do NOT need a babysitter! I've been taking care of myself a lot longer than you have, I'd wager, and I don't need someone following me around now!" Dairine growled, before finally forcing herself to calm down again slightly. She knew she had a temper problem, and was trying to work on it... trying, being the operative word.

"... And some summer clothing would be a good start." She muttered. "I suppose I'll have to put in an order for some hides and the tools that I don't have."

((Sorry for short, Dai's being unco-operative.))

[saidaltam]

"It's not a babysitter," Siten replied smoothly. "However, things are tense with the Overho--a few of the holders. Consider it... a precautionary bodyguard. While I'm certain you are strong and swift, capable of defending yourself effectively against one, two, or even three opponents, I do not feel comfortable in saying that ... those wishing for Isiloth's children not to impress would not send more. Indeed, I would be very much surprised if they didn't. I'm afraid that this is one point on which I flat out refuse to negotiate, Dairine. Even I, with Isiloth to look out for me, do not risk careless wandering outside of the Weyr without companionship."

It was too true, too. She would not put it past the Overholder to try to kill off the candidates before the hatching, any more than she'd put it past him to try to have her or D'mon -- most probably both -- assassinated. She was not of a mind to take chances of any kind with anyone under her care, not even ill-tempered leathercrafters with bad attitudes and the stubbornness of an ornery old mule.

[holly]

"And how would anyone know that I was a candidate, unless I told them?" Dairine smirked slightly. "I wear the shoulderknot of a craftsman, a leatherworker. As you say, it is not unusual for leatherworkers to be in a Weyr, it would not raise any eyebrows. For all they know, you've just hired me, that's all. Which, essentially, you have."

While she did have a point, Dairine simply didn't want anyone following her around, especially if she decided to visit where she grew up. That was personal.

[saidaltam]

"You needn't be a candidate to be a Weyr asset, and that is all it takes to make you a target, so far as I'm concerned," Siten replied mildly. "Don't think for a heartbeat that ... those with the wish to know it don't know every asset this Weyr has, and don't ever doubt that they will use every tool at their disposal to see them ... removed," she added. "I'm sorry, but this point is non-negotiable."

She had no doubt, either, of the absolute veracity of her statement. Of course, it wasn't a vague 'those concerned', in her mind. Her one and only concern was the Overholder. His motives were unsubtle, and his conduct unquestionably obvious in its biases. She was not about to let her guard down for half a second around him, and she wouldn't have her candidates or Weyrfolk doing so, either.

Now if only she wasn't so certain he had agents in the Weyr itself, so that she could speak more freely to the candidate, to make her understand.

[holly]

Dairine gave a low, frustrated growl before calming herself down. Fine. She'd just give whoever it was the slip first chance she got. "So who will my babysitter be?" She snapped. No matter what Siten said, that was what was happening. And just because she was being forced to do it, doesn't mean that she had to be happy about it. Whoever it was that was forced to play bodyguard was NOT going to get any slack from her.

By that point, Gigo had already fallen asleep, his short attention span being exhausted. Besides, that nice hot sun was wonderful against his hide, after all of that cold.

[saidaltam]

That was a good question.

There weren't that many riders she was certain were calm enough for this... unique young woman. With as temperamental as most greenriders were, they were, essentially, out of the question. No bronze would tolerate such a menial task. It had to be blue or brown, and for the life of her, she was drawing an absolute blank on the names of any blue riders. Finally, she shrugged. "S'fet or V'ran," she replied mildly. "I trust both of them to... maintain suitable composure." Of course, S'fet was a pacifist. ...Maybe he wasn't the best choice, after all.

"If you wish to go somewhere immediately, I could have V'ran return...?" she offered.

[holly]

"Do you HONESTLY think putting the person who BROUGHT me here against my will as my babysitter is a good idea?" Dairine grimaced. "Besides, I'm not planning on going anywhere right now. I need to find where I'll be staying and get used to the time difference." As well as put her things away... which as of now consisted entirely of her tools.

Suddenly, the young woman's stomach gave a loud growl, and Dairine actually blushed a bit, a gesture that made her seem rather young and adorable, compared to her usual belligerent personality. She had been in such a hurry to get some peace and quiet that she had skipped breakfast, and it was well past lunch, Benden-time.

[saidaltam]

"Would you prefer someone who will treat you as being a lesser person for your gender?" Siten asked mildly. "I can say nothing for the man personally, but V'ran has repeatedly proven his frighteningly exceptional composure. If he judges you for your words or actions, you will never hear of it, and neither will anyone else in the Weyr. Is there something you would prefer in a bodyguard to that?" If there was, perhaps Siten could oblige, but somehow, she supposed that silence would probably be Dairine's preferred trait.

[holly]

Dairine snorted. "Do I honestly look like someone who would let someone treat me badly because of something I can't help?" Infact, most guys that tried it soon found themselves bequeathed with a bloody nose. "But somehow, I'm doubting that I have much choice in the matter anyways." She grimaced. "Fine, whatever, the sharding brownrider can play babysitter. Where do you want me to put my things?" Subtle, Dairine was not, even with something like changing the subject. Another growl from her stomach prompted her to add, somewhat embarrassed "... And I guess I should ask where the kitchens are, too."

[saidaltam]

"We'll pass the crafter's wing on the way to the kitchens. You can place your things there," Siten replied, looking pensive. If it was that late, already, she should probably be getting the last of the clutch records back down to the archivists had palpitations and hunted her down. She'd seen what she needed to see.

Escorting the girl along, she paused by the small gathering of rooms prepared for the crafters of the Weyr. "Crafter's wing," she said mildly. "I've actually got some things to attend to. Would you like me to have V'ran come back and show you the rest of the Weyr?"

[holly]

The red-head grimaced. "Not like I've got much choice." She muttered. "Besides, it'll give me a chance to put my tools away. I suppose that this is goodnight for now." Giving a small head-nod (about as respectful as Dairine was going to get, under the circumstances), the young woman turned and headed into the crafter's wing to pick an empty room.

Soon, she had her tools put away, as well as her excess winter clothing (she would probably have to sell it, since she didn't need it anymore... though she would keep The Cloak). Sighing, the young woman stepped out of her room, idly petting a sleeping Gigo's head as she did so. She wondered how long it would take the brownrider to show up, and if it was worth it to try and find the kitchens on her own.

[saidaltam]

Siten had contacted Isiloth immediately after Dairine went to select a room, who, under the very dear wish to have her rider back, played relay and advised Jhamith of the situation. Grudgingly, the brown had told V'ran of the Weyrwoman's "request". V'ran's immediate response was a wash of displeasure, but he had never shirked an order, in thirteen turns, and he was not about to start now, so with an affectionate pat of Jhamith's shoulder, he set off for the crafter's wing.

It was bare heartbeats after Dairine's emergence that he arrived where he was instructed to go, and stepped up calmly beside her. "I've been ... asked ... to show you around the Weyr," he said mildly, tone carefully level and composed. He was of no mind to set the temperamental girl off, again. Patient or not, he had never been the sort to go looking for trouble.

Of course, regardless, that was rather what this felt like. She was angry with him for doing his job, which, while understandable, was hardly fair. The most rational response to this would have been to keep them separate for a while. He really couldn't understand why the Weyrwoman was throwing them back together again. The woman's motivations still baffled him, and there were few about whom he could say that.

[holly]

"More like ordered." She growled, glaring up at him. "Don't mince words with me, brownrider. We both know that neither of us like this situation, so stop trying to make it seem more pleasant than it actually is." Dairine grimaced. "And no, I don't know why she assigned you. She just muttered something about some S'fet person being too much of a pacifist." Which was fine with her, she could bully pacifists into getting her way. V'ran would be more of a challenge.

But then, she had never backed down from a challenge yet, and wasn't about to start now. She was just opening her mouth to test and see how far she could push the brownrider, when her stomach gave another, louder growl. She paused, and surprisingly a small blush made itself known under her freckles. "... Sorry."

[saidaltam]

The blush brought a smile to V'ran's lips, albeit a small one. "I should have thought -- it must be getting late, Benden time. Perhaps the kitchens, first?" he suggested mildly, turning in the correct general direction and tilting his head.

She was right, however, in that "order" was a more accurate term. Nevertheless, there was no cause for rudeness, and he was certainly not about to lapse into it needlessly. That would be not only personally offensive, but the sort of lapse in good conduct which was greivously out of keeping with is personal code of... well, he supposed "ethics" was the best word for them, shaky and inappropriate as it was.