Golds, Large And Small


Jarvys.jpg Rocio.jpg

Date: September 12, 2010
Location: Eastern: Living Cavern
Synopsis: Jarvys comes over to Eastern to visit his daughter. Doesn't find her. Finds Rio instead. They talk about golds, his firelizard and her dragon.
Rating: PG
Logger: Jarvys

There's a disconcerting sense of 'unfinished' about this place, that seems to defy the presence of four gold dragons and their courtiers, and the support staff that Eastern Weyr has grown into. Rio steps into the Living Caverns, so late at night, and is struck with that thought, at the familiar sight of one of the "hills" left in here. Indeed, the Weyr has had much more to worry about than the presence of leftover building material, but… Rio does stare at that, for a moment. It's been a long day, and finally Eovarijath has deigned to sleep. This night, her dragon's passion for the sky ran so strongly, that Rio did not think it wise to leave the little gold alone. So it's late, late, late, that Rio comes finally to the main hall, to see what scraps might be left on the night-hearth or in the kitchen.

Jarvys, though having lived with the 'unfinished' parts of Landing for a long time until they got polished, cannot find himself to appreciate the process involved. For a smith, he can be narrow-minded about others' work. He steps down into the Living Cavern, perhaps for the first time, and gazes around, his eyes drawn to the odd combination of tables, and then raises up to the ceiling. "This looks more like a Hall setting, with apprentices in charge." That he does have experience with. Don't ask. He moves toward the hearth, looking for someone to talk to, searching for someone, apparently. "Hello, goldrider." He remembers her name, but refuses to speak it, at least at first. "Would you happen to know where Healer Cheusia might be?" His request, complete with raised eyebrow and everything, clearly comes from one expecting to be answered. And promptly.

Startled out of her reverie, Rio looks to the gemsmith for a long moment, before she inclines her head. Dark eyes blink back up to the man's blue, before she shakes her head, "No sir." Smooth alto, relaxed, "Have you checked the infirmary? If there's a patient there, she's likely about. If not, then I suspect at this hour, that she sleeps. Are you hurt?" Rio shifts her body enough that she's not looking over her shoulder at the man, but has presented a 3/4 angle to Jarvys.

"I am not hurt, no, but I have never been here before, beyond landing in the bowl for your Hatching Feast, and leaving from the same. So, I would have no idea where to begin to look for the Infirmary. It is a personal matter, at any rate. I had sent … a message on ahead, and was hoping she would find me here." Jarvys rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath about rebellious children and apprentices. "I shall probably have to remain here for now. I am unsure how long she will take to arrive." He frowns, and looks around to find where the drinks might be. "She often remains awake for part of the night, in case of injury." Shifts and all.

"Would you like me to accompany you to the infirmary? I can show you where it is. In case," Rio murmurs, all polite reason, "She is there with a patient, sir." She settles back into the parade rest that has become natural of late, for her, in the parade of various Weyrlingmasters the Weyrlings have been subjected to.

"No, no, that's not necessary. I told her I'd meet her here, and I'd better not interrupt her." If Jarvys' daughter is anything like him, she's a very intense person, especially when working with her craft. If she's with a patient, she's completely with them. Focused on them, most probably. He'd be in the way. He moves over to where there appear to be drinks, and pours himself something, perhaps a juice. "It wasn't a guarantee she'd be able to come. I also need to speak to my journeyman, if she's available, but knowing Nenienne, she has already gone to bed." There's another focused soul. "You stood with her, correct?" He is clearly wondering how well-behaved his charge was.

"Who, sir?" Rio asks, though she moves toward the food with an eagerness that belies the casual words. The Weyrling hasn't eaten since the noon meal and by now, even the raw meat she cuts for Eovarijath looks good. "I stood with whom?" She paces to the nighthearth and begins to assemble a plate with random attention. If it's organic and does not have insects affixed to it, that goes on the plate.

The young woman's confusion is irritating to Jarvys, and he sips at his juice before answering. "You stood with Nenienne, correct?" He watches her quick movements, and cannot prevent a snort from escaping. "I have been curious as to how she comported herself." He steps over toward one of the smaller tables, pulling a chair out, turning it to face the young woman. He closes his eyes, and then speaks again, a slight bit of his annoyance showing. "My manners are slipping terribly. My duties to your queen, madam." Weyrling she may be, but in Jarvys' eyes, she is power untapped.

Rio is power untapped. She knows that, which is why she can easily tolerate the little slights, the annoyance, the snort. "Nenienne. Ah. Forgive me. She was the model Candidate, at all times. Never lapsed in my sight." Perhaps that answer is itself the crime; perhaps the words are spoken in admiration. Rio is hard to read, particularly with the veil shielding most of her features. "I am sorry that she did not Impress, but she is already hard at work, again, on commissions. She spoke with me the other day, sir."

Jarvys' eyebrow raises again, and he speaks only a single word. "Ohh?" Whether he is asking for her to elaborate on the Journeyman's behavior or on the conversation between the two, it isn't exactly clear. He watches the woman carefully, calculatingly, gathering information about her — all while continuing to sip slowly at his juice.

Rio isn't going to make any part of this easy. "Yes, sir." Rio murmurs, before she collects herself some liquid as well, poured carefully into a beverage glass. Then she brings them to the table next to where the Mastersmith sits, and she settles herself. "Indeed." That last two syllables invites comment, as well as the possibly-amused glance in the man's direction.

Jarvys turns toward her, settling in to the table properly, and his eyes narrow slightly at her lack of elaboration. It's not annoyance, per se. Not yet. "How has weyrlinghood gone thus far? I have no experience on which to base a comparison, unless you count the first few sevens of my Jahra's life." At the mention of her name, Jahra, a small gold firelizard, pops into the room from between, and lands softly on an outstretched hand that rises up to meet her. "Hello, my dear." He speaks softly to the young gold, but does neither mince words nor coo. It's not his way. He watches her take flight again, only to head up to the ceiling to hang on one of the bigger 'bumps'. "Ahh. Now I see the attraction." He's enough of a smith to recognize pragmatism in place.

"Exhausting. Mentally and physically." Rio answers, around bites. "There's much to learn. And the dragons are growing and they each have their problems. Eovarijath… She grows at night, I think, when she sleeps. So I have to oil all of her, once or twice a day, and she does not care to keep clean. She is picky, eating, so I am chasing down choice cuts, or arguing with her. She thinks she's bigger than she really is. But, in all, it's a joy." One might remember what job Rio had before it was playing hand-maiden to a gold dragon.

One may not have known. However, he nods, considering her words. "I suppose it is much like an apprenticeship and a mastery all in one. You must become an expert at the new mind, but must work as hard as you possibly can caring for her." He pulls the cup to his lips again, this time pensively. "Intriguing." For it really is. It's insight into something every Pernese citizen has wondered about since wandering around in the creche. Jarvys looks back toward the woman, and calculates. "How old is your gold now, then? And how much has she grown?"

"The difference is swimming to walking. Walking, you know where you're going. You have a sense of when you'll get there, and what energy you'll expend. But swimming, it depends on whether or not you're in a stream. Or a river. Or a pond. Or the sea. And if there's current or not, and what the weather is. And all these things…. If Thread is falling, if it is not, if a green rises, if the Weyrlingmaster didn't get enough sleep the previous night, if some brown picks a fight with a brown, these are all currents and eddies and maybe tsunamis in the water in which you swim, and you can't -stop- swimming," Rio tries to explain. "So you just swim. And rest when you can." And eat when you can. "It's been six sevenday sir. She's easily twice the size she was, when she hatched."

"Mmmm." That's the sound the man makes, still pensive, processing the information. Jarvys sets the cup down on the table, and nods. "That makes sense. When Jahra hatched, I found myself open to all sorts of new," read 'uncomfortable', "sensations. She feels everything so strongly. I imagine it's much like that, only on a grander scale." Better she than he, perhaps. "I really ought to go find her, or find that greenrider, and head home. If she hasn't the …." He grumbles a little more to himself, probably more about children and their disrespectful behavior. "Thank you for your insightful information, weyrling." And instead of demanding the salute, like he could, he dips his own head, but makes no move to stand just yet.

"My pleasure, sir." Rio returns, with a return dipped head. "If you know the name of the dragon, I could have Eovarijath bespeak her. She… Isn't resting too deeply." And never does. "Your little queen is lovely." The compliment seems sincere, before Rio falls back to eatiing. She does watch the Starsmith, though it's a more casual thing, out of the corner of her eyes.

"Escaeth." That's the green's name. "Our watchrider." Jarvys moves to stand. "Why thank you. Jahra." The last is spoken in his 'Master' voice, the one that clearly expects obedience. Happily, the little gold complies, and settles down on his shoulder. "Clear skies." With the traditional greeting, and another slight dip of his head, Jarvys moves toward the exit, to find either his daughter or the watchrider, and to conclude his business.

"Clear skies." Returned. And Rio falls quiet, to request of her queen to contact the dragon that Searched Eovarijath's lifemate. Soon enough, the Gemsmith should be greeted by his Watchrider. Rio, meantime, will eat. Will drink. And wonder about gold firelizards as opposed to gold dragons.

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