Laughter. Shouting. Singing. Lots of singing, along with the Harpers on the stage. Another time, Kel might have opted to join in, but he was rather more interested in acquiring food and shoveling it down. The meats, in particular, for he loved roasted herdbeast. His attention on his food, he was… outside… the action, seeming rather to observe those around him than to participate with them. He was, to all signs, quite content for such to be the case; certainly he made no effort to go about and insert himself into conversations, nor did he hang on the words of those speaking, like a clinger waiting acknowledgement. He simply, observed.
Artemis arrived late. Artemis always arrived late, between her own taste for appearances and the guards who fumbled around her at all hours. Even when she dressed simply, even when she had no other plans but to get a bite to eat, they took time away from her. Getting in position, getting away from the door, doing all sorts of ridiculous things.
She smacked away the hand of the nervous guard who tried to open the door for her and stalked into the great hall, keeping to the outskirts of the room. K'rad, the man with the suspicious Midnight, was stuffing his face on the same outskirts. He knew how to keep to himself, that one.
What was it you once said? Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your dragon closest of all?
What are you suggesting, dearest?
You want a guard to get the leaders off your back. You want to find out who has been attacking our members. You want to know what he is saying. You are already suspicious of him. I could easily take his dragon. You are well trained to fight, now, thanks to L'ras. Make him your guard.
Artemis shoved a roll into her mouth and considered the idea.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 8, 2014 18:23:20 GMT -8
Several faces turned to look in the direction of the entrance, including a vaguely annoyed — though maybe exasperated would describe it better — looking Weyrleader. He was an exception though, most of those looking seemed relieved to see the young Queen Weyrling enter, as if they had thought something dire might have happened to her since the last time they’d seen her. The Weyrleader made no attempt to say anything though, he clearly considered the fact that the guards were present to be good enough.
The motion of heads caught the corner of Kel’s eye and he looked up. The reason was easy enough to spot. Artemis had just come into the hall and was walking down it, accompanied by a brace of individuals that any experienced eye could recognize as guards. Kel mentally raised an eyebrow, marked their locations, and returned to his food. They were uninterested in him; he was perfectly willing for it to stay that way. Some of the wherhandlers here were pretty sharp.
The guards stayed away, thankfully, or Artemis would have had to pull some ridiculous maneuverings to get away from them.
I do not to want to risk your safety.
You will not. And you can tell L'ras. He will know this secret. Rilora your other. And if one betrays you, we will know what to do.
Artemis loaded her plate high with food and wandered, as if absently, towards K'rad. Her eyes may be a bit too bright in the candlelight of the Weyr, but otherwise she seemed perfectly normal.
When she bumped into him, it was all innocence. Her goblet of wine splashed everywhere - a goblet she was still not supposed to have, though she would argue with anybody who told her otherwise, and a goblet which made a good introduction - including on the young Weyrling.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 12, 2014 18:48:39 GMT -8
It happened quickly. One second, Kel was sitting at the table, savoring a bite of steak. The next second he was soaked with standing up and soaked with wine, his plate of food knocked halfway across the table with the haste of his motion. Fortunately, he was able to pull his blow before it even truly began. He was left, staring up into Artemis’s eyes, with no real idea of whether or not he had reacted to the sound of her footsteps or to the wine splashing on him.
Oh well. Maybe it was fated. After all, his bosses wanted him to make friends with the leadership and future leadership, and Artemis certainly fit the latter category. “No need to apologize, lady Artemis,” he said, bowing slightly. When he straightened, he managed to give her a quick grin, though it never quite reached his eyes. His grin rarely did though.
“If you would like, I was going to get a little more anyway. Perhaps I could get you another glass.” No, he wasn’t a Lord’s relative, but he’d been Nalkeldar’s only playmate for turns, and as a result had even shared some of the other boy’s lessons. He knew how to act like a Lord’s relative. So what if Weyrlings weren’t supposed to have wine. He, as a full rider, could get some, and one glass wouldn’t hurt her. She was older than him, for Faranth’s sake.