Hello Darkness, My Old Friend [Nia]

[Azhdarchid]

[ Q'sis ][ Unath ]

Tanrider Q'sis laid back on the Senior Weyrwoman's bed.

He could feel the breath of space against the bottoms of his boots that indicated they were only an inch off hanging free of the mattress. Typical.

Sitting up, he mushed his heavy hand over the coiled body of a cat sleeping on the furs, waking it. The cat watched the giant get out of bed and walk to the Weyrwoman's desk. The soft light filtering into this human-sized warren from Callistath's den was enough for the cat to see by, but Q'sis felt for the edge of a glow basket and opened it. A pale blue cast stripped the room of its native umber cast, reflecting white from the centers of his eyes. He probed the edges of the basket with his fingers and found the tabs for its paper filters. Q'sis drew them down, and the light turned the warm orange of fire. Much better.

He looked over the desk, picking up the hides stretched out on it. He picked up each document to examine the ones underneath it, and unrolled the ones that weren't already pinned out for his perusal. A dragonrider's eyes could hold any image for an age, but most of these were blank. Avalle had to distribute the most important documents to the Records Room, and avoid scribing here at all aside from...what was this? A nameday note to the six-turn-old daughter of a minor holder.

"Ghck." He put the letter down. Opening each of the desk's drawers in turn, he rifled through the contents. Utensils for writing deeply important letters, mostly. Though he could see the objects by glowlight, he still touched every seam and surface, tapping the point of his finger along the sides of each drawer. Done with that, he bent his knees, then put one to the floor as he crouched to get a look at the underside of the desk. He spread out his hand against the boarding, running it across the polished wood, seeking the texture of a nick or line.

Hello, Unath said, to an approaching golden queen. Hello, hello, hello, she repeated, increasingly excited when she found Callistath was landing on the same ledge as her. Welcome, hello. The tan fluttered her wings, getting up to sniff at the other dragon, though something stopped her before she got close enough to bump noses. I am me -th, she informed Callistath, then blinked and pointed at the sunset with her snout. Timor and Belior made crescent shadows in the red vapor of Rukbat's descent. The moon. Callistath's daughter exposed her bright blue tongue in the process of licking the side of her lips, then gaped her teeth at her mother in a dragon grin.

Q'sis hadn't found anything under the desk, but when he stood up it was with a smile (just a little crumpled at the corners). He washed his hands in Avalle's basin, then returned to the bed, shifting his legs over the side and sitting back- no, lounging back, pushing the pillows into a supporting stack between him and the headboard. He tried leaving both legs extended at first, then bent one knee and reexamined his pose, grunting satisfaction. Reaching down the bed like the snatching arms of a predatory crawler, his hands scooped up the orange cat that had been continuing to attempt sleep. He dropped the feline in his lap, and took to stroking its head till it settled back into a snooze.

So poised, he awaited the Weyrwoman. He tried to ensure the feline was up to a traitorous purr by the time she made face. He gave a second for the question to build, on her face, with her words, in her eyes. Then he spoke:

"Thinking of moving in."

[Nia]

The days following that disaster- which was the only way Avalle would refer to it in her head, she refused to accept it as a real flight- were awful. She'd been avoiding the public eye and mostly staying in either her room or the Record's Room. She hadn't really been talking with anyone except for the bare minimum "well, what are we doing about Western Hold?" discussions that really didn't accomplish much. D'lios didn't have an heir and it was too late to find a decent one. For now he'd have to just be in charge of both. At least the fellow Weyrleadership were (mostly) on her side.... The same couldn't be said for the rest of the Weyr.

She'd been isolating herself for sure, and she was still only shaky terms with her dragon as well. They were both still mad at each other, and it didn't seem to be improving. Neither was willing to really share their feelings with the other, both being prideful and protective of themselves. Callistath was more open to trying to resolve things, but Avalle had built up a serious wall between them.

Today was one of the rare days where the pair had actually left their Weyr to sort paperwork in the Record's Room. They were rather short with each other still, but Callistath recognized the her rider needed to leave her Weyr and actually get out and do something. Nothing was accomplished by hiding, and all it did was make people justified in their thoughts that she'd done something wrong. In order to earn the respect back, they had to be active and try to make things better. Not that it'd help any. D'lios was still a big, glaring mistake, and the Goldpair had no idea how to fix it.

With everything sorted, it was time to return. Rukbat was sinking into the sky and Avalle was eager to just go back to her Weyr and sulk around a bit more before sleeping. Let's go, she mentally muttered to her dragon, who wordlessly landed nearby to pick her up. Callistath had taken to flying over the Weyr while Avalle was busy, mostly to watch over it. They were all her dragons still, despite the lack of respect they had for her. She usually perched somewhere up high to watch the dragons coming and going from their own personal weyrs and other places. For them, life had at least mostly returned to normal.

They glided wordlessly back up to their weyr near the top of the North Wall. Almost immediately, Avalle felt like something was wrong. There was some other dragon perched in her weyr. At first, she thought it was Perbiath and D'lios, come to talk to her about something innane or politics or other things she didn't want to deal with.

The truth was something that made her temper flare up almost as badly as it had after she'd woken up next to D'lios.

Callistath circled a bit, but eventually settled down next to her suddenly chattery Tan daughter. Her behavior was that of the dragon who had hatched out of the odd twin egg. Callistath wordlessly passed on the Tan's words to her rider, who made a face. Looked like Q'sis wasn't controlling her today. The Tan's happiness and friendliness caught Callistath off-guard. She was used to being looked at with scorn and disrespect so much that Unath's friendly greeting almost made her actually cheer up a bit. The Gold was so off-guard that she nearly did bump noses with Unath, but she stopped herself only because of Avalle's anger.

Hello, Unath, her tone was guarded, but still polite, as she greeted her daughter. The Tan was not to blame here, and Callistath wasn't going to scold her for landing on her ledge. Especially since she'd been so lacking in friendly company as of late.

Avalle dismounted Callistath with a practiced elegance that was almost second-nature by now, despite the anger threatening to burst out of her in the form of angry curses. It was all over her face as she saw Q'sis sitting on her bed, with her cat in his lap. Her face darkened, turning red in embarrassment and anger all at the same time. How dare he how dare he how DARE HE?! His words ignited her even more, and for a moment she actually looked like she was about to explode.

She was quiet as she wrestled with her emotions and tried to calm down, even relying on Callistath's assistance for the first time in days. The Gold didn't speak, but she was there as a reassurance and a calm prescense in her mind, ironically brought on by Unath's cheer. Finally, Avalle no longer looked as though she were going to explode, but she definitely was not covering up her anger in any way.

"No. Get out." Her words were curt and to the point, but she didn't move from where she stood, almost frozen in shock. She was not in the mood to wax philosophically with him or discuss things in detail. She was not in a very receptive mood, no matter what his arrangement was. In fact, she partially resented Q'sis for their previous conversation, in which he'd been right about not letting Callistath's choice in mate affect Weyrleadership. It was one of the many things that plagued her to think about. The fact that she should have listened to him made her hate him all the more, but she was far too prideful to go back on her word.

[/size]

[Azhdarchid]

[ Q'sis ][ Unath ]

"But it is such a large and magnificent weyr. Room enough for Sam and I to each have our space. I would like a big weyr like this." Q'sis curled his damaged finger behind the ear of the cat in his lap, scratching at the animal's skull. "You may be right though. This place is too low for me."

He made no move to get up, though. "An intruder on the caravan..." he chuckled, moving his hands down under the feline's arms and massaging its ribs, and the fluff that constituted its flank. "The first thing you do is have him relinquish his Lordship. It is his own fault he failed to produce a son. The Hold can go to the Conclave to be outfitted with a new Lord of their choosing, and in the meantime the current Steward can serve as regent."

The tanrider lowered his knee, crossed his legs loosely, his left foot ticking back and forth from the heel. "The next thing you will do is convene with all of your bronze and ironriders to press O'sho back into his effective position as Flightleader. I am sure you know all of them well, since I advised you to get familiar last time. That it would be important." Those dark, dull olive eyes rolled up to the apopleptic woman occupying the head of the cavern. "But if not, I suppose these will be your baby steps. Serve them tea. Romance as many of them as you can. They need to be your hands in all this work, and you need to be their...anchorage. As for the Holder, you explain to him that the Weyr cannot take instruction from a man who has no experience outside the queens' wing. He can officiate the gathering of the wings for the Fall, hand control to O'sho, then remain in that wing with you. Your curious pet."

Q'sis lifted the feline's arm and wiggled its soft paw at Avalle. "Finally, after you have placed D'lios where you want him, and he has domesticated, you strip his Weyrleadership and place it into the hands of someone capable. He remains your rider, and nothing else. There is no other suitable punishment for too obvious an ambition. Furthermore it is the right thing to do by your Weyr. It is the right thing to do by the people of Pern."

His large, worn hands picked up the curled ball of cat and set it on the furs at the other side of the bed. Q'sis crossed his empty hands and rested them on his abdomen. He was in his full riding leathers, the working set rather than the Gather-ready black-and-red. Dyed dark, the wherhide bore a resemblance to the skin of his dragon. "So that is what you will do. You will defy tradition again, and make this right."

Unath managed to sit still for a whole forty-seven seconds after Avalle dismounted and went inside. Then the tan began to crab-walk sideways toward the gold dragon sharing the ledge. There was a fair stretch of rock between them, and Unath stopped every few moments as if she had detected an observer, so snuggling up would take several minutes.

It is nice tonight, she told Callistath while she struggled to stealthily extend her right fore and backleg at the same time. She might have forgotten the word out somewhere, but that was only because balancing her weight through the shuffle required a lot of concentration. You are pretty, she added, making a little head-bob at the queen.

Good girl, Unath.

Ohhhhhhh-h? She had not expected a reply from Q'sis, and shimmied in place. What did I do? But her rider did not reply, and after a bit Unath resumed her sideward crawl.

[Nia]

Anger flared up in her as Q'sis continued his implications that him and his sharding Weyrmate could happily live in her sharding weyr. Too LOW for him?! Her's was one of the topmost weyrs in the entire place! In fact, Q'sis' own weyr was up a little bit and to the left, if she was remembering the direction correctly.

Either way, Avalle wasn't in the mood to deal with him or anything he wanted to tell her. Who did he think he was, anyway? Sure, she was willing to listen to him that one night, and perhaps she honestly should have taken his advice, but now she was too far into it to do anything he said. Of course, some more of the things he rambled at her were things she'd already had in mind to do. She crossed her arms, a clear, closed-off message, and just listened to him. Her foot tapped impatiently as he spoke, and she even rolled her eyes at his implications of her sleeping with all her Kingriders again.

It gradually felt like she was losing control of her own life, if D'lios wasn't enough. She felt trapped and Q'sis wasn't helping. He was even stroking her feline like he was his own, and it made her want to go over there and grab the cat right out of his lap. The only reason she didn't was because she didn't want to hurt her innocent feline, who had no idea how irritating the man petting him was. As if she was going to serve anyone tea.... The nerve.

Taking a breath to stablize herself, Avalle finally responded. "I already have plans to do most of what you've said, if it pleases you to hear," her tone was dark and still quite irritated, with too much bitterness on the last part of her sentence for it to be taken seriously, "D'lios is putting up a fight for his leadership and not as much of the Weyr is against him as you would hope," she continued, thinking back to various comments and things that others had told her. He wasn't universally hated. Doing what Q'sis wanted her to do would cause an uproar in his supporters, and she still had her doubts that anyone was ever going to listen to her again, against D'lios or not.

"It will happen. It might be slower than you," her words turned venomous at that word, "may want, but it will happen. The worst case option is that he is Weyrleader only in name, with none of the duties." The words were said almost to convince herself, "However...."

"You speak of punishment for an obvious ambition, yet you think you can come into my own Weyr and think you can order me as though I were below you. I am your Weyrwoman and you will speak to me as such. There will be no more suggestions phrased as orders or demands. I am not opposed to your help," she said, allowing herself to be more open to his ideas than Fajra, if only because she could pick around the parts she disliked, "But your tone is insolent and disrespectful." She paused again, "Speaking of which, get off of my bed."

Callistath had her own tiny claw in Avalle's calmness, having touched her Rider's mind while the woman was distracted. Despite their chilly interactions as of late, Callistath still loved Hers and was not just going to let her lose her temper after having it under control for so long. The Gold watched Unath's odd crab-walk over to her side of the ledge without any of the contempt that her Rider had for Unath's Rider. The Tan was her special daughter and a dragon in her Weyr. As long as she showed respect, she was fine in Callistath's eyes.

Thank you,

[/i] Callistath replied, curling her tail around herself as she watched the Tan's crawl towards her with slight amusement. The best she could do for Avalle right now was to keep herself calm and pleasant. You also look quite pretty tonight, Unath,[/i] she politely returned the compliment.[/blockquote][/size]

[Azhdarchid]

[ Q'sis ]

"It does not matter who is with him, though you should take down their names as your most disloyal riders. All that matters in this case is what is right. If he is fighting, it is because you and your queen are weak enough to permit it." Q'sis tilted his head at the Weyrwoman, but on top of all those words, he was smiling. Not unkindly, but with an extra wrinkle of triumph in the corners. "It is pleasing when you already agree with me. You can learn, unlike Fajra."

His boots clicked onto the floor, and he rose, a shadowy mountain of leather that nonetheless approached Avalle on strong, fluid steps. Unlike so many gawky, tall men, Q'sis had been born into ruling from on-high. "Callistath will be strong again after her other duties at the Hatching. I...sympathize." And he would rest the iron weight of his hand on Avalle's shoulder if she let him, tipping his head a little down, black mane hanging forward off the firm sweep of his shoulders. "D'lios can be dealt with then, even if it would have been better that you did something real to him that very morning. Rather than just marking him as you did."

The flat, retired green in his eyes simmered as he narrowed them, focusing more on Avalle now and less on the future's unspecified horizon. "You can save the lectures about respect till you are worth them. Is the brownrider a threat, my Weyrwoman? He is, but I want to hear you say it. Your predecessor had various ways of dealing with threats." His heavy (albeit plucked to shape) eyebrows drew together. "What about the incident at Crescent? With the wher?" Q'sis grit his teeth around the last word. "What information could they have gotten from that Handler? Did you tell Audren to change the patrol schedule?"

Q'sis already knew this answer by virtue of being an early morning creature: so early, some days, that he saw the inner Weyr whers. The same ones, on predictable rounds, every sunless morning. "You should do so as soon as I leave. And if you have any trouble with the Conclave, tell them you suspect they were D'lios' agents. He has the right history for it to be plausible anyway."

He lifted his shoulders. "But a brown might not necessitate the politics of compensation."