[Meeting] Speaking of Prison (L'vey/Ralvyn)

[lithle]

So far, L'vey had requested those with whom he had meetings be sent to him. But, as Faeth had dug in her heels, at least for the moment, this time, he would go to the person in question. But L'vey did not expect it to be too much of a hunt, suspecting that, given how shorthanded they were these days, the Master Dragonhealer's assistant was almost certain to be found in the prison infirmary.

It was mid-day and raining fitfully. Not a true southern downpour but an on again off again drizzle. At least it was a cool rain, successfully easing the oppressive heat that the coming of autumn had not entirely chased away. Still, by the time L'vey reached the infirmary, he was more than a little damp. He stood dripping, just inside, taking in the scene.

Two prisoners had arrived that morning and were strapped to their cots. Well, at least, even having lost so many, the barracks would be filling without fail.

It was a sad thought.

With a slight shake of his head, he waved one of the prisoners earning there keep in the detox area over to him. He murmured his request that Ralvyn be brought to him, and waited there, by the door, for the young man. It may be that he was one of those directly in his line of site. L'vey had not met this one yet.

[tuathade]

Ralvyn was beginning to enjoy the company of thieves.

That was one of those phrases, much like “and then a serial killer smelled my neck,” that a-Turn-ago-Ral would have made a horrified face at. Now, after a Turn at the prison weyr, they were becoming par for the course. And the simple fact was, the thieves were pretty much the best company you were going to get at Warden’s. Less violent than the murderers, less distasteful than the Dusters. Yes, he could deal with thieves. He’d even stopped startling at the sight of a red jumpsuit coming at him. Plenty of prisoners worked to earn their keep, and for the most part the remaining ones were… well, they varied. But they weren’t terrifying. Jiruyno was gone. Machi was gone. The stranger with the slasher smile and the blade was gone – along with all the worst of the psychopaths in Warden’s.

The healer apprentice felt ashamed every time he realized this was a comfort to him. The outlaws weren’t in here anymore. But they were out there. With dragons. Stolen dragons. Little unborn lives that would probably die alone in the jungle – and the healer in him made his gut wrench sickeningly every time he dwelled on it.

But the rest of the clutch was still alive. If there was one thing he had to learn to do, it was to let go of patients he couldn’t help, and focus on those he could. It was the same with this clutch. Let the guards and the Overseer attend to the outlaws… Ralvyn would be here in the infirmary, where he could make himself useful.

He was busily restocking when a worker informed him that he had a visitor. The prisoner didn’t mention a name; that probably meant it wasn’t Lanakirene, that and the fact that the Master Dragonhealer would have just come and found him herself. But who else would want him? He was somewhat puzzled until he spotted the greenrider and recalled that L’vey wanted to meet with all the potential Candidates personally.

“Weyrlingmaster!” Ral approached briskly – or as quickly as he could, at any rate, weaving between people and around cots, then gave a brief but polite bow. He remembered L'vey vaguely from the beach party (so long ago now!) and knew him by reputation to be a good man, but little else. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

[lithle]

Ahh, yes. He had met Ralvyn. That night, on the beach, by the bonfire. V'tya had been there, L'vey remembered. He'd even seemed to be in a good mood for once. And everything had seemed--

Seemed--

Nevermind.

That wasn't the world now.

Best to focus on the present. There was a clutch of eggs waiting on the sands. As last time, they were desperate for those who might stand, prisoner and no. Ralvyn was on his list. Better still, he had the reputation of an intelligent and dutiful nature. It would be, well, comforting, to have have a few level heads among his Weyrlings.

"Apprentice Ralvyn, do you have a moment? I'd like to speak with you about the hatching." He glanced about the bustling detox area and infirmary and considered. "And if there is a room where we might speak without being in the way, that would be preferable. I'd not want to disturb these good people at their tasks."

[tuathade]

"Ah - yes. Yes, of course." Right, the Hatching. It was coming up, and soon, although of course no one could predict the exact day. Ralvyn wasn't sure what precisely L'vey wanted to talk about - but it probably had something to do with the Incident (as Ral referred to the egg theft in his head) and how it would affect Hatching protocol. Naturally there would be more security... And the clutchparents would be on edge. All these would be things that the Candidates would have to be briefed on.

"If you could follow me, please?" Ralvyn made a beeline for the nearest office he knew to be empty. Most of the healers would be out doing their rounds at this time of day; it was unlikely that they would be disturbed. "I'm sorry I couldn't come to you, sir... It's just that the infirmary is always in need of a spare pair of hands."

Even Lanakirene's order to stay away hadn't lasted for long. One would think after the breakout it would be worse - but healers had been among the casualties, and if anything Ralvyn was needed more than ever. Opening the door to the office, he glanced back at L'vey, politely stepping aside to allow the other man to go through first before following. He was silent for the moment, permitting L'vey to speak first.

[lithle]

"My thanks, apprentice." L'vey followed Ralvyn into the office without further comment. Once inside, he took a chair, settling with back straight, hands folded. His face spoke of exhaustion, but his posture was apparently unaffected.

He waited until Ralvyn had settled himself, then gave a quiet sigh. He'd been giving variations on the same speech to every candidate and while he wasn't exactly tired of it, he did wish it was a speech he didn't have to give.

"I am sorry to interrupt you at work. I know how badly you are needed here. But it's important that I speak to all the candidates." He paused, taking a careful breath. "It's important that you understand what impressing here at Warden's might mean for you. Perhaps especially you, when you already clearly have a future waiting for you."

Another pause, this time, he was clearly deciding which words to use. "You do understand that we believe there will quite likely be more unusual dragons in Semith and Iiateth's clutches?"

[tuathade]

After L'vey sat down, there was an awkward second or two where Ralvyn wavered, then he snagged a chair for himself and pulled it over to sit down near the greenrider. His own posture essentially matched L'vey's, albeit a little less composed and a little more nervous.

A future... Well, maybe. More or less. But he was Lanakirene's apprentice. Regardless of other circumstances, she had chosen him, and he belonged at her side. What kind of a healer would he be, if he just abandoned Warden's as soon as the going got tough, to run back to the Healer Hall and choose an easier assignment? He still intended to be a dragonhealer, and the best possible place to be was at the Weyr with the irregular colors. Far from fearing it, he looked forward to the possibility.

Still, Ralvyn hadn't been at Warden's for the first hatching, so he didn't quite get what L'vey was referring to. "I assume so, yes," he agreed to the question. "Another blue-gold match, we can probably expect to see more of the same colors, unless it was a one-time fluke... And of course no one can predict what will come of a gray and an opal - sorry, sir, I don't mean to ramble. Just been speculating in my head." He shrugged, hands twisting in his lap as an outward sign of his restless anxiety.