Non-Emergency Emergency

Writers: Duskdog, Sia
Date Posted: 3rd August 2024

Characters: Aleriand, Aikley
Description: Aleriand and Aikley dodge uncomfortable situations at Turn's End
Location: Printer Hall
Date: month 13, day 29 of Turn 11
Notes: Mentioned: Corofel, Vestian, J'ine

Aleriand

Aleriand hadn't expected to be swarmed by ladies at Turn's End. He was warned about it, sure, even been teased about it, but he hadn't once considered that it would actually happen. An eligible bachelor for a Hallmaster was a rare opportunity for mamas and dowagers alike.

The pleasant goodbyes got more frantic the more of them there were, and Aleriand all but fled the company of ladies with the excuse that the Printer Hall booth needed him. He rifled through the books set on display and eyed the little cash box. "Selling well? It looks like we're almost out of Weyr Romance. I can run more over from the Hall…"

“The people do enjoy their naughty books. Mostly holdfolk… unsurprisingly.” Aikley looked him over briefly, a smile just barely quirking the corner of their lips. “Your haircut has been a rousing success, then?”

Aleriand shot them a dirty look. "You did this on purpose."

“Made sure you look presentable? Yes. With the aim of making you look even more eligible? No. That was going to happen, haircut or no. You _are_ a prize, sir. It would be wrong of me not to inform you of an ‘emergency’ back at the Hall, if such a thing were to happen, though. You would probably be occupied for a long while.”

Aleriand made a harrumphing sound. Him, a catch. They sounded ridiculous. "Next time I'm getting the mullet. See how many of these dowagers try caressing my arm when I look like some harper on circuit."

"And you would alert me of such an emergency right away, wouldn't you?" Aleriand asked. "You wouldn't leave me trying to decline dance cards, would you?"

“Of course I would, sir. I know my duty,” Aikley replied, tapping their chest lightly. “And I wouldn’t count on a mullet discouraging your suitors. Hair is impermanent. They’ll think they can just get you to a barber. In your sleep, if necessary. Not that I would dream of doing such a thing, myself, sir.”

"You better not." Aleriand grumbled. "Next time the Printer Hall reopens I'm showing up looking like I stumbled right out from the publishing house. Greased and messy." He considered a moment, then added, "Scratch that. There'd be no ladies for Corofel. Hm. Wonder if I can redirect any ladies to him. He's the one looking for a wife."

“I imagine he already has a full dance card. Maybe you’re getting his leftovers. Or he’s getting yours. Or maybe your suitors are just looking for a more mature type of fellow. I have overhead it said that you are a ‘daddy’, sir.” They coughed slightly before composing themself again. “The charm of a learned gentleman follows you wherever you go, it seems, despite your best efforts to dispel it. Would you like me to print some ‘anonymous’ letters detailing your abhorrent drunken behavior and off-putting body odor in order to dissuade future hopefuls?”

"I'm a _what_?!" Aleriand exclaimed too loudly. He straightened and smiled, awkwardly, at a few folks who startled nearby. Nothing to see here, folks. Then, quieter, "I should've kept us with the Harpers. Look at Vestian over there. Unbothered." The fact that he was married seemed lost on the Hallmaster. "No, anonymous letters would just bring more attention to me. This is just a burden I'll have to carry, I suppose. What about you? Have you taken any time to go look at the other stalls? Anyone on your dance card?"

Aikley paused a moment, surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to them at all. And then laughed softly. “_Sir_. I’ve been right here. I… do want to browse the stalls eventually. I’ve heard there’s someone selling pet animals. But no, I’m not sure that I’ll be doing any dancing. Is it… expected of me?”

"Well no, but you should have fun once in a while." Aleriand said. "If that's something you find fun, anyway. I remember there was fun to be had at these kinds of things once."

They considered this for a moment. “I’m… not sure whether I would or not. I don’t think I’ve ever tried. But I suspect it wouldn’t suit me.” They smiled a little, almost sly. “You sound as if you don’t find _anything_ fun anymore, sir. Would you rather be fixing the press? Shall I break it for you? As a treat?”

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness, but the presses will break on their own soon enough." Aleriand said. The corners of his mouth quirked into what could be hints of a grin. "It was easier to find fun when I was just another journeyman and not dodging ladies across the hold." Even easier to do it back at the Weyr, and the memory of it gave him another idea. "Lots of dragonriders here, you know."

“Sir. Please don’t tell me that you’re considering fleeing to the hills.”

"Pfft. My journeying days are long done. I meant for you. Charm a greenrider right off their dragon."

A blush crept up Aikley’s face from the collar up all the way up to their hairline. “Oh. Oh no. Absolutely not. I have very important things to do. Here. Today. Forever. You know.” They cleared their throat, clearly scrabbling desperately to regain their composure. “Besides… I’ve seen the complications that dragonriders bring to your life. You are a good object lesson.” They paused, glancing back towards the Hall. “I think I sense that Hall emergency happening. Right now.”

Aleriand's sly look was momentarily replaced by one of surprise. "Wow. I am a positive influence, thank you. One doesn't live at the Weyr without accumulating a few dragonrider friends. They're mostly good folk. J'ine notwithstanding." He looked over at Aikley, the sly look returning. "Is it an emergency that requires the Hallmaster, or is it not quite an emergency that requires a Journeyman to check in? I can watch the booth."

“A journeyman can certainly handle it. And, of course, if things were to theoretically escalate in a short while, a journeyman might return to inform the Hallmaster so that he might go take it in hand. A Hallmaster might be forced to miss half of the dancing.”

"Oh good, as long as it's a non-emergency emergency." Aleriand said mildly. "If it ends up being a smaller issue than expected, make sure to take some time to go around the stalls. Shop around."

Last updated on the August 11th 2024

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Non-Emergency Emergency