Housewarming [Kila]

[Reky]

C'lis had seen D'lios on several occassions since leaving Western Hold, but each time only briefly. The briefest had been D'lios' appearance at Dalibor on behalf of the smokeweed antidote, the longest in the early morning of the Gather, but even then he was swiftly made to bow and excuse himself for his duties to Pileuth. Caring for her was strange since she did just as much caring for him - in some way, he likened it to caring for an elderly parent, who hadn't accepted that they were no longer independent. Pileuth was undeniably youthful, though, even for her mothering tendencies, so the metaphor was not perfect.

Perbiath's recent winning of Callistath's gave C'lis hope. He had wanted, for so long, to be able to be near D'lios again. His admiration had only seemed to grow in his absence. He idolized D'lios. He marveled at the strength of his own family. He wanted nothing more than to convey D'lios on to further greatness, since C'lis himself would never achieve it. The political implications of the new Weyrleadership were intriguing, but C'lis approached them with a level head, unlike some. Already the Weyr was abuzz and splitting into factions - "it's not right for a Lord Holder to also be a Weyrleader," they'd say, "he rigged the Flight," "Callistath made an error," "I don't like it."

For now, C'lis kept his favour on the low. It had only been a few days since the change in leadership. Everyone else, he decided, would calm down eventually and realize D'lios' potential.

Those few days had been given as breathing room in the name of Pileuth, but C'lis itched to ascend to the Weyrleader's quarters and finally congratulate him. Pileuth, as she was wont to do, soothed his excited energy in the meantime. You feel so strongly about this man, she observed. It's nice to see you so invested in something, love, but you also seem confused and worried. Don't be - it's not really your problem, my little man. You might know more about politics than I do, but this seems like an issue for the leaders, not for you. All you have to worry about is me.

[/i] Teasingly, she nudged her cyan nose to his angular face. He leaned into her. This level of affection had been a long time coming from C'lis, but after nearly a half Turn, he had melded completely with Pileuth. He loved her, he loved D'lios, and he was mildly fond of Valentine. Those were the only people.

I'm just worried they will make the wrong decisions, he thought to her. They are blinded by the fact that he is a brownrider and a Lord Holder. Just because it has never happened before does not mean it shouldn't.

She walked with him to the lake, where she laid down and sunned herself on the rocks. Go now, she told him, brushing his shoulder with her beak. He nodded and was quick about finding the winding, back staircases of the Weyr. Pileuth, infinitely older than him in spirit, was fine with being left alone. Some Weyrlings would be anxious; Pileuth was only worried about C'lis being off on his own, rather than herself being alone. She kept close tabs on her poor, little man.

As C'lis ascended, he eventually became short of breath. Weyrlinghood had made him fitter but the vertical height of the Weyr was challenge for anyone. Some of it, he walked slowly. When he could, he was quick and light on his feet, hopping two steps at a time. Eventually, he came to the back door to Weyrleader D'lios' personal weyr, and paused. He took deep, calming breaths. He stood straight and composed himself, fixed his golden hair. Then, he knocked on the door, his heart jittering in his ribcage. He was so excited. He had wanted to see his Lord since the Queen's Flight. A smile was tight on his thin lips as he waited, and when the door did open, he immediately bent at the waist in a bow.

"My Lord," he said reverently, and stood tall again. He was still smiling. "Congratulations."[/size][/blockquote]

[Kila]

Summer, 6th Turn, 11th Pass


A weyr, even a large one carved out for a king, was not nearly as nice
as his lavish room in Western. The simplicity of it did not bother the
new Weyrleader though- his role at Dalibor was a different one from his
role at Western and he was prepared to adapt accordingly. The transition
was more than favorable for Perbiath, who loved sharing quarters and
close companionship with his bonded. When he was Lord Holder they were
rarely together, but when he was Weyrleader the Brown could seek his
company easily. Even when D'lios was not around there were hundreds of
other dragons he could speak to, so Perbiath did not feel lonely.

D'lios put down his quill and stretched, body cramped in a million
different places from all the writing he had done over the past few
days. He had wasted no time in assuming a large part of O'sho's duties.
Though he was no stranger to hard work and did not complain, he had to
grudgingly admire the amount of work that the irritating old man had
been doing. O'sho had been clearly unhappy to hand anything over to
D'lios, least of all his coveted position, but he had done so gracefully
with the thin politeness that he had always kept with the Lord Holder.
That had been gratifying, though D'lios had refrained from gloating.
After all the turns of being scorned by the former Senior Weyrleaders he
was now their superior. And he was going to do an even better job.

A large part of O'sho's duties had been political correspondence. The
man knows people from every corner of Pern, D'lios realized as he
received more and more letters. The position was more fitting for him
than he cared, as it turned out. The muttering Dalibor weyrfolk and
Crescent Lord and Lady Holder were not the only people upset about his
new position. News had spread quickly through the Weyrs, and not long
after from the Weyrs to the Holds. The more traditional Lord Holders
were scandalized; D'lios had already received several demands that he
step down from one position or the other. He answered them all with the
same polite explanation: he had come by Weyrleadership honestly,
therefore it was his right to assume the position. If he should fail to
run both Dalibor and Western with the attention and dedication they
deserved then he would gladly relinquish his title in the Weyr. He had
no plans to do so, of course. D'lios knew his capabilities and would not
leave any matter neglected. He had family, he had loyal subjects, he had
power, and he knew how to delegate when he needed to. Besides, with
Perbiath to whisk him between he could go from Hold to Weyr in a
matter of minutes. Despite whatever hateful labels people chose for him,
he was diligent and hard-working and would never sully his name by
shirking his duties.

All these letters are wearisome, he informed in his Brown as he
rose from his chair. His Brown renegade bastard- risen high.
I do not envy you, MineOwn. Perbiath had seen His
write veritable mountains of letters, but his lifemate had been at it
for hours without a break. He did not understand what humans found so
fascinating about paper. I must walk. D'lios was used to being
more active. He longed for a bottle of Benden to sip on while he worked,
but it would be too large for Rah to carry and did not merit its own
trip back to Western. Perhaps I will have a bite as well. He
could content himself with weyr food and klah. The prospect of the leers
he was sure to receive did not excite him, however. They don't have
to like me, he reminded himself. Only need that they respect
me. Perbiath flared with anger at that. He only wanted to be liked,
but he was similarly stigmatized. His wasn't pleasant sometimes, but he
was a great person and they should both be given a chance. Hush,
Perbaith, D'lios said. He raised a hand and cut off the Brown before
he could begin. Callistath gave us a chance. It is now our job to
prove that she was wise to do so. I suppose...
Perbiath said, not entirely convinced but cheered by the thought of his
golden queen. That's a good boy, D'lios said, moving to the door
to start the spectacle.

Someone knocked right as D'lios touched the handle. He raised a
well-shaped eyebrow, wondering who it might b, and opened the door. The
lad was hard to recognize bowed over as he was, but when he rose he
recognized him as one of his younger cousins. "Carlis," sounding
pleased. It was not many people who had greeted him with a smile over
the past few days, and hardly had he received a sincere congratulations.
All that considered, he opened his door to the young man. His family
stuck together. "Why thank you, cousin. Please, come in."

D'lios sat back down on the chair he had just vacated, crossing one leg
over the opposite and leaning back. "Make yourself comfortable,"
he said, studying his kin closely. The reports he had received from him
concerning Dalibor had been quite valuable. Now that they were face to
face D'lios recalled that he had written about standing for the last
clutch. "Tell me, did you impress at the last hatching?" he
asked. C'lis had doubtlessly written him about it but with all the
madness that had been going on D'lios could not remember. His cousin
would understand.