[Meeting] Empty Spaces (Serdek and L'vey)

[lithle]

The Weyr was never truly quiet, not even in the small hours of the morning, when the sun was just starting to peak above the horizon. But some places were more bustling than others. The riverside was one such area, crafters were always coming and going on some errand of importance.

But, regardless of crowding, it was a little cooler by the river, with the trees clustering near the water's edge and offering some shade, at least. L'vey was seated near one such tree. He'd taken his shoes off and his feet dangled in the water which was not exactly cool, but was still not so warm as the humid autumn air. He hoped it would rain soon, the last few days had been oddly dry and the moisture seemed to be building up as a result.

Only a few more, my dear. He could not keep the gently teasing edge out of his voice, Faeth was so clearly happy that he was almost done with these meetings.

I will not allow this again. She replied, her tone sleepy but still pointed. The trees and the crafter's huts were too close where L'vey sat, so she'd stayed behind at their weyr.

I know. Do have a guard bring Serdek, though. The name alone made him frown. Poor creature, she did not deserve the situation she'd found herself in. And, with Warden's death, she'd lost her champion. Well, at least she was still to stand.

Guardmaster? Have Serdek escorted to L'vey. He awaits her at the river. Thank you.

I would like this one to impress. L'vey said as the sun turned the world pink and gold.

Soon, the eggs will hatch. Then we will know. Then everyone can heal.

If only it were that easy, L'vey thought. But he did not say it to his dragon, or anyone. Best to pretend, at least, to share that same hope.

[giftwrapped]

"Candidatemaster L'vey wants you."

There were few enough voices that Serdek welcomed intruding on her sleep, but at least the guard who woke her was nonthreatening. Rousing herself with a muffled curse, the shaved-headed woman fumbled in the gathering light for a moment before getting her reflexes and her mind in roughly the same place. She had been sleeping. She grunted as much against the door to the guard - a fair-haired woman with a build like a dancer who nonetheless delivered a punch Serdek hadn't believed the first time it hit her - and got a light laugh in response.

The door opened, and Serdek slunk out, absently adjusting the red prison garb so it fell more or less correctly. She should have been awake, probably, been presentable already. But Faranth, Candidatemaster L'vey? Really? It must be about Standing...the clutches...

Her stomach twisted in knots. Warden had told her she would be entitled to Stand for this clutch. She had, theoretically been entitled to the last one, but something had held her back that time. This time...she owed it to the Warden. His kindness would be remembered. Faranth, he was the only one that had - and now M'onk - Serdek grunted, shaking her head and rubbing the back of her neck uneasily. "Did he say why he wanted me?" she asked the guard, who shrugged and gave the noncommittal grunt back with the same tone as Serdek's.

"Guardmaster heard from L'vey and sent me. All I know's he wants to talk to you down at the river."

That, at least, was a blessing. Serdek rather liked the river. It was a nice place to be, and the sight of the other crafters did her heart well (although some of them, like that massive Smith girl, reopened wounds she tried not to think about). Plus, in the stifling Southern heat, the river kept the temperature manageable. She made her way along the shore in silence, barely noticing when her guard dropped back. For a woman who had come to the Weyr on murder charges, Serdek was fairly well-trusted among the guards, and it was usually assumed she wouldn't try anything.

She wouldn't, of course, but she understood the requirement for vigilance. Let one slip, and the rest would follow. Still, she appreciated the privacy the other woman gave her and glanced briefly over her shoulder just before she entered L'vey's earshot. The guard had taken a stance under a tree a few yards back, leaning against it with her arms crossed over her chest and eyes closed. L'vey need only yell. Serdek would ensure he needn't do that.

"Candidatemaster," she said softly, sinking down to sit tailor-style a respectful distance from the man. "You wanted me?"

[lithle]

"Journeyman Serdek." L'vey's soft voice was, as ever, serious. But there was a slight gentling of tones, the barest hint of additional warmth. He'd never spoken to Serdek before. But there'd been a time, once, when he and the Warden had discussed topics of freedom and justice. He couldn't say whether V'tya had considered him a friend. But for his part, he'd valued those times. Serdek had been an occasional subject of conversation. "Yes, I'm sorry if I woke you."

He was so tired and now it was difficult to gather his thoughts. He kept circling back to the breakout, to Warden's death, K'bay's last words to him. He found himself dangerously close to asking Serdek what she thought of all that had happened. But he didn't. He knew himself well enough to know when he was looking for someone to unburden himself to. And that was simply unfair.

His breath came slow and careful, deliberate, as most things he did were. "You have the option of standing for the clutches now hardening. If that's something you wish to do, I'd like to discuss some things with you, clear up any rumors you may have heard." He tried a small smile. It was not all that impressive an effort. "If not, you are welcome to return to bed and catch up on what rest I might have interrupted."

[giftwrapped]

"No, it's fine. I should have been awake anyway."

The words escaped in a rush, spoken in a tone that was strangely soft for a woman of Serdek's stature. L'vey was...she had heard good things about the man. He believed in the prisoners, some said. But he was still a man, an unknown man with whom she had never spoken. The look she gave L'vey was guarded, body tense as she listened to him. She wasn't afraid of him at all, in theory. L'vey was not a threat, he was a greenrider. She had a guard if worst came to worst. But what she knew intellectually didn't stop her from reacting physically to what she still instinctively perceived as a threat.

"I...would like to Stand, L'vey," she said quietly. "It was something Warden -" and she broke off abruptly there, choking on the words as she fought to get herself under control. "Suggested for me," she finished eventually, lamely. "What sort of rumours?" she added, glancing up to meet L'vey's eyes for the first time since she had seated herself. She had heard very little about the clutch, though there had been plenty of stories about the previous one, and the buzz around the Weyr was about the breakouts and stolen eggs, not the remaining ones. Serdek had shut out the talk after a point. She couldn't bear to listen to it any longer.

"I've...been out of the loop for a bit, I guess," she remarked after a moment, casting her gaze away again. There had been too much for her to deal with, and she had shut down. It was selfish of her, really. Here was L'vey, taking the time out of his schedule - and he was exhausted, she could tell. There was something in the man's eyes that was haunted, in a way that reminded her eerily of herself. The man's small smile earned a twitch of her lips that might have been a paltry echo of his already weak expression.

This was not his fault. None of this was his fault.

[lithle]

"There is certainly no shame in not paying heed to rumors. I wish more were so inattentive." L'vey kept his tone soft when speaking to Serdek, perhaps in an attempt to keep from increasing her tension. But, as L'vey always spoke softly, it was just as likely that he was unaware of her fear.

He wasn't. But he did not comment on it. He did not say that he was safe, that she needn't worry. She could discover that on her own, in time. Or not. It was difficult reaching those who'd been made fragile by past horrors. He would have liked a chance to earn her respect as he believed V'tya had.

Now was not the time.

"Most of the rumors are about the likelyhood of more unusual dragons in these new clutches and what that may mean." He shook his head slightly. If she'd not heard the rumors, it was best to give her what information he had as concisely as possible and let her decide on her own. If he was causing her discomfort, he'd rather make the meeting between them brief.

"In short, we do expect such dragons, though we can't be sure. If you impress an irregular dragon, there are certain restrictions. They are not being taught to between, the other Weyrs are not accepting them as transfers, and in simplest terms, they are not well liked by many."

The statement was a bit more blunt than he would have liked, but he'd speak about philosophy and fear some other time, if she happened to impress. Now, he simply wanted to share the facts with her.

"I just want you to understand, if you are looking to find freedom through impression, you may, instead, find that it makes it very difficult to leave." He'd looked toward her as he spoke, not catching her eye directly but keeping his gaze focused in her direction. Now he glanced out toward the ocean. This was the part where he hoped. "Does that change your decision?"

[giftwrapped]

For a long while, Serdek was silent. She hadn't thought beyond the possibility of her release. She had been prepared for her four-turn hearing...and then hell had broken loose. The Warden was gone, and M'onk was in his place. M'onk and Mikhath, founders of the Watch, silent judges who would never believe her or take her words for face-value. He was not embittered, lost, turned against the watch the way the Warden and the rest of the dragonriders at Warden's were. He was something else. For a moment, she found herself staring at L'vey, wondering if he would be able to stand with her against the Watch. She didn't even know if she would need him to. Or if she'd be allowed to stand for a hearing.

But that wasn't important now, and as L'vey's words registered in her mind, Serdek fell into a different sort of silence than the one she had previously been enjoying. It was a silence busy with thought, with the careful consideration that came of being told something you didn't really want to hear. What was she supposed to thinka bout all this. What did L'vey want her to say? To do? What did she want to do? Trapped at the Weyr...perhaps forever? There would be no way around it if she Impressed one of those dragons.

But...did it really matter? She'd have....everything. Freedom, a dragon. A place in the world. Not well-liked by many. Well, that didn't change much, did it? A soft, bitter laugh escaped the woman, who rubbed the back of her head and sighed quietly. "I understand," she answered after a moment. Did she really? Perhaps. But nothing could be worse for her than what she had gone through. "I..." she stopped, trailed off, stared into the distance like she was debating things to say. There were ways it could go. Doubtless L'vey knew her history. Doubtless anyone at the Weyr knew. She didn't want to open up to the man, but.

Perhaps in this case, it was best.

The thoughtful silence stretched on as Serdek put words together. But eventually, she broke it with another humourless laugh. "It's not like I have prospects from here, L'vey," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Anything's better than this. At least if I get a dragon..." and again, she trailed off before reminding herself that anything she could say was doubtless something L'vey knew already. "At least if a dragon decided to choose me," she resumed, changing the wording to something that fit better, "I wouldn't have to deal with...this."

The wording wasn't descriptive, but the gesture she gave took in the prison, her guard, everything.