Re: This Will Not Stand Att: T'ryn/M'ayen
In spite of all the turns separating T'ryn from his own Candidacy and Weyrlinghood, that bellow still caused the bronze rider to flinch slightly. An instinctive response to run away that had been drilled into him from abuse endured at Fort to 'bring him up to snuff'. And, it was just that reason that T'ryn straightened himself back up, calling up every bit of dignity and authority he could muster. He wasn't going to let his daughter be tormented as he had been, not here, not now.
So, it wasn't a meek and cowed rider that entered M'ayen's office. It was an officious bronze rider, one who had at one point been Weyrleader, and was now a Wing leader, that walked in instead.
"Good afternoon, ACM M'ayen" T'ryn said smoothly. "I believe I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you."
And M'ayen had always reacted to rank. It made no difference that T'ryn was still young; he was old enough now to command respect, old enough that M'ayen himself straightened his spine and nodded to him respectfully. It was wise to stay on the right side of young bronzeriders; tomorrow you never knew who would be Weyrleader.
"Wingleader," he greeted. "Please, take a seat." Not that he had any idea what T'ryn might want. Better to be polite anyway.
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.
Join firstname.lastname@example.org to automatically receive all group messages.