Disclaimer: I refuse to do one. It's obvious I don't own Pern. Oops...
A/Ns: Yes, I know. Another new story? Yes. But I couldn't help it! I won't give up on my others (although "Bond" is on hold right now...), and I think this is a good one! So, thanks to KiaraAlexisKlay for beta-ing (especially this story - she fixed a lot). Reviews are much desired...
"Tell us a story, Harper," said Setha, her tiny round face looking eagerly up at the Harper that was known as Breil to the Hold. They knew it wasn't her name, but for some reason, she had shed her other name. They were curious, but were under strict orders never to ask her about it. And, once they had heard her tell her stories… Well, names were trivial matters.
The lined, eternally sad face paused a moment, and Breil's gaze swept over the small gathering of the young children. Her deep sadness had made them originally wonder. How could a Harper not be quick and cheery, they wondered.
But the first time Breil had sat down to tell them a story, all their doubt had vanished. The woman was an extraordinary story-teller.
"Please?" Norlee added petulantly. Breil hesitated.
"I've told you most every story I know," she said slowly, eyes unfocused.
"Aww…" The room was filled with the children's disappointed moans.
Another hesitation. "But… there is one," she said, cocking her head, her dark eyes narrowing. "Well, yes. There is one more."
"Tell us!"
"Yes!"
"Please?"
Breil gave in. "It starts in Fort weyr, in the Junior Queen's weyr…"
Fenalzae sighed impatiently as her queen staggered to her feet. The golden dragon was bloated and very egg-heavy.
Where are we going? Brezeth asked again.
"Where are you going?" F'prial demanded simultaneously. He glared at Fenalzae. "Brezeth's too pregnant."
Fenalzae sniffed and turned primly away from her weyrmate – well, he was theoretically her weyrmate, anyway. "I'll take my dragon where I please, when I please," the Junior Weyrwoman snapped. "And I told you not to return to this weyr." The queenrider felt a vicious pleasure as F'prial ground his teeth.
"Kavdorth flew Brezeth –" he began, but Fenalzae cut him off.
"But I did not accept you as my mate," she snarled. "Now leave us. Brezeth and I are going out." If she can ever get up, she thought privately, making sure the queen couldn't hear. Brezeth was the only one Fenalzae respected.
I do not think I should go betweenBrezeth said timidly. Kavdorth and his rider do not think I should, either.
Threadbare F'prial, Fenalzae thought bitterly. Let's go, golden beauty.
Brezeth heaved herself out of the weyr. Kavdorth hummed anxiously, his eyes whirling with reddish streaks as the sun glinted off his bronze hide.
Fenalzae swung with practiced ease onto Brezeth's neck. The dragon swayed between Fenalzae's knees. The woman slapped her queen's golden hide with an affection she would show no other. Brezeth rumbled happily. She leaned back slowly, her unborn offspring weighting her down. Finally, she leapt clumsily into the air. Fenalzae could hear the pregnant beast's joints creaking.
Where are we going? Brezeth asked Fenalzae.
The Hold, her rider replied, giving the visual.
They winked between.
Brezeth winked out of between to loud bugles. She laboriously landed, her relief to be back on the ground of the Weyr rebounding to her rider. Her rider was slightly guilty, but shook it off. Fenalzae unfastened her riding straps and leapt neatly off of Brezeth's golden neck.
A livid B'vindel met Fenalzae and grabbed her forearm, twisting her around to look him in the face. "What were you doing?" the Weyrleader demanded harshly.
"Visiting the Hol-" Fenalzae began to reply, but B'vindel was too furious to hear the rest.
"Brezeth is close to clutching!" spat Alborth's rider. "Between is used to abort! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"
Fenalzae winced as his grip on her arm tightened. Brezeth rumbled anxiously. "You're upsetting Brezeth!" Fenalzae gasped.
"Serves you right!" B'vindel cried, releasing her to throw his hands in the air. F'prial walked up behind the Weyrleader of Fort, and Fenalzae glared at him. F'prial, however, met her gaze rebelliously. He opened his mouth, but Fenalzae cut him off. Now was not the time for an I-told-you-so.
"Brezeth feels the same," the queenrider blurted. "That's a good si-"
"It's no guarantee that the eggs – or the dragonets – are OK," said B'vindel.
Brezeth? Fenalzae instinctively reached for her dragon.
You are smart. You would not make a wrong choice, Brezeth said confidently.
But this time, Fenalzae wasn't sure.
"Well, no," interrupted Setha. "She's bad. You can't take a queen 'tween when she's like that." She was glaring at an imaginary "bad Fenalzae".
"Hush!" said Norlee.
Breil continued.
Kelsthadesa fingered the fabric of the white tunic.
"Wait a minute," Setha said, breaking in again. Breil turned patiently to the young girl, whose face was wrinkled in confusion. "Who's Kelsthadesa? What happened to Fenalzae?"
"Maybe if you listen, you'll find out, dimglow," Grandio said, slapping the girl's head.
"Don't hit her, Gran," Breil said automatically before continuing.
Kelsthadesa fingered the fabric of the white tunic. It wasn't the nicest material. But it fit her exactly – or, at least, she hoped it did, after all that measuring and fitting.
Mella, the one of Weyr's Weavercrafters, gave Kelsthadesa a quick, critical once-over. "Mnh, yes, I think that should work," the older woman said. "Probably not the most comfortable thing you'll ever wear, no, but possibly the most important. If you're lucky."
And Kelsthadesa desperately hoped she'd be lucky.
"Yes, that'll do," Mella decided. "Now take it off and go help out in the kitchens. I was told to send you there when we were done."
Kelsthadesa nodded and went to take off her candidate tunic.
"Just warning you guys, we're gonna skip ahead here," Breil said.
"Hold onto your riding straps!" cried Felmor. Everyone stared at him. "Uh, sorry. Keep going, please, Breil."
Kelsthadesa felt herself tremble as she watched the eggs jerk. She shot a sidelong glance at the other candidates for the queen egg. They looked as nervous as she was. And Kelsthadesa knew that the male candidates would be no different.
And yet the eggs seemed strangely reluctant to hatch. The queen egg's rocking seemed… halfhearted. Kelsthadesa felt a quick stab of fear. Everyone in the Weyr knew that Fenalzae had taken Brezeth between shortly before the laying of the eggs.
The adult dragons were humming. The whole Weyr seemed to be vibrating with the deep sound. Kelsthadesa felt herself tremble in excitement, and she wiped sweaty hands on her tunic.
Beside Kelsthadesa, Savenme grinned nervously. "Uh…" she said awkwardly. "This is… nothing like they said it would be." She chewed on her lip, green eyes flashing to meet Kelsthadesa's cloudy blue ones. She pulled a lock of mousy brown hair out of her messy bun and stuck it in her mouth. Kelsthadesa nodded curtly. The Hatching was too close for her to trust herself to communicate properly.
The first egg hatched with a kind of weak, dissatisfying thunk. A blue tumbled out, squawking piteously. He flapped thin, almost translucent wings as he staggered to his feet. His pale body glistened with goo from the egg that had encased him so long.
The boys reflexively moved forward, almost as one. Then, they all stopped, not wanting to force themselves on the little hatchling. The blue stumbled forward, tripping over every part of himself that could possibly get in the way of his little feet. He stopped in front of one boy, who knelt down beside him, but Kelsthadesa didn't catch the hatchling's name, because other eggs were starting to split open.
If the hatchlings all seemed rather slow and stumbly, everyone ignored it. Everyone knew why. But there was no need to mar a Hatching – a happy occasion – with such thoughts. The dragonets couldn't be crippled in any way. They were just… tired.
Or not.
Kelsthadesa began to shift on her feet. Her thoughts were beginning to get frantic. What did she have to attract a dragon? She wanted one, yes, with all her heart. Of course she did. But she wasn't brave, smart, beautiful… Beside her, Savenme was chomping furiously on the lock of her hair.
Of course, all of Kelsthadesa's worrying would come to naught if the sharding egg wouldn't hatch anyway! It was still flopping about halfheartedly. Kelsthadesa wondered what would happen if someone went over and tried to break it. The little queen needed to hatch!
She did.
The golden dragon burst open the tough casing that was the egg and flung herself onto the Sands. She rolled onto her back, panting. The girls all moved forward, concerned, to say the least. The crowd was on their feet. Hatchlings didn't roll over on their backs!
But then, Kelsthadesa forgot to worry about the babe being on her back. That didn't matter any more.
All that mattered were
Mailaath's
beautiful
eyes.
Kelsthadesa hurriedly bent down to help Mailaath to her feet. "Sh-h-h," she murmured, putting her hands under the little queen's neck and tail. "You're okay. Let's get you upright."
As she gently righted the hatchling, a gasp went up from the Weyr. Mailaath's –
Breil broke off, her eyes unfocused. The children looked at her timidly. "B-Breil?" said a little boy.
"She didn't deserve that dragon," whispered Breil. "She didn't deserve her."
"I like Kelsthadesa," said Joya, frowning slightly. She was an older girl, and wasn't so much in awe of the Harper. "What's wrong with her?"
"Let her keep telling the story!" said Myuthi, elbowing her impatiently.
"Where were we? Ah, yes, Mailaath's wings…"
– weren't right. Kelsthadesa gasped, her hands rushing to Mailaath's back. "Oh!" she cried, eyes wide with fright. Mailaath twisted her neck around to look at the stumps on her back, then lifted her gaze to her rider.
What is wrong? You are scared! You are…
"What's wrong with it?"
Kelsthadesa felt herself being pushed roughly aside. Hot anger boiled up in her stomach, and she frantically shoved away the girl who had been looking in horror at Mailaath's crippled wings.
"She's not an it!" Kelsthadesa said, bristling. She pulled Mailaath's glistening head toward her. The queen dragon was shaking. The mood all around was beginning to affect her.
Something is wrong with me? Mailaath asked, confusion and hurt shooting through her mental "voice." She looked at her new companion, sparkling eyes spinning anxiously. What is wrong with me?
Brezeth reared back on her hind legs, bugling. Fenalzae hurried forward, pushing people hurriedly out of her way. Behind her were the Weyrleader B'vindel, Weyrwoman Sharla, and F'prial, Fenalzae's supposed weyrmate.
"What's going on here –?" Fenalzae began, only to gasp and stop dead as she saw Mailaath. The little queen began to shake violently in Kelsthadesa's arms, scared.
Weyrleader B'vindel inhaled sharply as he saw Kelsthadesa's dragon. He raised his head and barked, "Everyone, get away! This needs to be dealt with. Let the poor girl and her queen breathe."
Kelsthadesa wanted to thank him, but the words stuck in her throat.
"Breil?" a small voice asked timidly. Breil broke out of her story-telling trance and blinked down at Setha.
"Hm?"
"Is-is Mailaath going to be all right?" Setha asked quietly. Looking around, Breil saw that all the little faces had expressions of shock and fear. She forced a smile, though the gesture never came easy to her… any more.
"You'll have to listen and find out, won't you?"
Shaky nods.
"Shall I go on, then?"
B'vindel bent down on one knee and reached for Mailaath. She gave a cry of alarm and tried to burrow into Kelsthadesa's stomach. The girl hugged her dragon to her, looking warily up at the Weyrleaders. "She's scared," Kelsthadesa tried to say, but it came out squeaky. She cleared her throat and said it again. "And she's hungry."
"Girl, that queen –" Fenalzae began, glaring at Kelsthadesa, but F'prial grabbed her and pulled her roughly back.
Sharla, the Weyrwoman, rider of golden Zaeioth, bent down and put calming hands on Kelsthadesa's shoulders. She spoke to the newest queen rider in a soft, soothing voice. "Hush, my girl," she murmured. Kelsthadesa felt a shiver run through her body. She'd never even spoken to the Weyrwoman before. "We have to make sure Mailaath is healthy, and will live."
"There's nothing wrong with Mailaath!" Kelsthadesa blurted, but knew, even before the words had left her lips, that she couldn't be less correct. Mailaath had short, stumpy, wispy wings that could never support her, not even if they were to grow. How was a dragon to live without wings? She could never fly. Never go between. Never hunt for herself. Never carry her rider. Never… rise to mate.
Kelsthadesa gave a whimper, and Sharla gently but insistently tugged her away from Mailaath. "Sh, dear," the Weyrwoman said slowly. "We won't hurt Mailaath. We could never hurt someone's dragon."
Kelsthadesa? Kelsthadesa! Who are these people? Kelsthadesa, I'm scared! Mailaath was frantic and did not want to be separated from her rider. Tears streaming down her face, Mailaath's un-rider whispered words of comfort to her dragon. Mailaath stopped struggling as she was simultaneously soothed by the queens Brezeth and Zaeioth.
Stay near me, Mailaath pleaded with her new lifemate.
I will, Kelsthadesa assured her. Of course I will.
Breil looked up again. "I'm surprised I haven't been interrupted," she commented.
Her audience jumped. Setha finally said, "S-sometimes I wish you weren't that good a storyteller."
Breil frowned. "Why not?"
"You made it too real," murmured Joya. "You made Felmor cry."
"Did not!" Felmor pressed his wrists against his face, covering his eyes. "Keep telling, Breil," he said, his voice muffled.
Pale gold was pretty.
Kelsthadesa decided this as she led a wobbly Mailaath to where all the hatchlings were ferociously gobbling down their first meals. Beside the newest queen and rider walked the Weyrleaders, the Junior Weyrwoman, and her weyrmate. Everyone was staring at Mailaath. Kelsthadesa put a protective hand on the little gold's head, as though her fingers could sheild her from the stares.
They couldn't.
Kelsthadesa had numbed. She had never, ever imagined anything like this. She'd Impressed – she'd Impressed! – and yet, the gazes on her were not of wistful adoration. They were of revulsion, pity, disappointment. Pity because they seemed to think Kelsthadesa had been cheated. Revulsion because it wasn't right. And disappointment because Mailaath had ruined the happy Hatching mood by existing.
"That's just not right!" Setha blurted, her little eyes flashing. "Every dragon has a right to 'xist!"
"Will – you – stop – interrupting!" snapped Joya.
Let's see...
The newly Impressed got to the food buckets to soothe their new lifemates' intense hunger.
"Mailaath isn't alone."
Kelsthadesa jumped, startled by the soft voice. A boy was looking at her as she cradled Mailaath's head in her lap. "Huh?"
"Zinterth... has no tail," the boy forced out. His hand was on the head of a petite brown that seemed to waver as it stood. "I'm Z'keiko," the lad said, staring at Kelsthadesa with protuberant gray eyes. His thatch of brown hair waved back from his face, and he had a thin, emaciated looking figure. "And Y'skay's Flith has small, thin wings."
At least he – or she – has wings, Kelsthadesa thought bitterly. But, as she wasn't used to shielding her thoughts from her dragon yet, Mailaath looked up, eyes spinning faster.
Something is wrong with me, the little dragon thought anxiously. Please tell me!
I – you – Kelsthadesa struggled to find a gentle way to explain it to the queen dragonet. You have only small stumps for wings. Most dragons have large, full wings, so that they may fly. And you are a queen.
Of course I am, Mailaath said. What else would I –
Felmor giggled softly. He was elbowed sharply in the ribs, but Breil looked up. "What is it?" she asked, confused. It wasn't a particularly humorous part of her tale.
"You sound funny when you do the dragon's voice," the little boy said, suppressing his laughter.
"It's not supposed to be something to laugh at," Joya admonished, though her own lips were twitching slightly.
What else would I be?
Kelsthadesa paused again, oblivious to Z'keiko, who was still watching her closely. Queens... rise to mate. They fly – far and long. A male catches her and becomes her mate. That is how dragons… keep going. Reproduce. And you… Kelsthadesa swallowed convulsively, you won't be able to do that.
So you don't love me? Mailaath asked pitifully.
Of course I love you! Kelsthadesa said instantly, without hesitation. I will ALWAYS love you. Always always always always.
Good.
"Hey, Breil? Can you get moving here?" broke in Yamman sourly. "This is getting boring."
"Breil! Don't listen to him!" cried Setha immediately, to the supporting murmurs of the others.
"No, it's okay. I can skip ahead a little," Breil said.
"Hey, Kella – can I call you Kella? Kelsthadesa's such a mouthful."
"Huh?" Kelsthadesa spun around, shocked. Mailaath was sleeping peacefully, and she had been gazing happily at her new – if… different – friend. A brown-haired, bright-eyed girl had bounced into the small room that the newest queenrider would be staying in during her weyrlinghood.
"Oh, I'm Flia!" said the girl brightly, flopping herself down on Kelsthadesa's bed. "So, how about it? Kella okay? Degrading?"
"N-no, it's all right," Kelsthadesa said, still rather disconcerted. "Who are you?"
"Just a girl from the Lower Caverns," said Flia, waving a dismissive arm. "Not of Searching age yet, though," she added, pouting slightly. But she brightened a split second later. "But I get to help you out!" Then, she abruptly turned shy. "Could – could I see Mailaath?" Her eyes widened earnestly. "I don't just wanna gawk at her – I know she's cri- uh, different."
Kelsthadesa was totally shocked by Flia's sudden changes of mood. "I-I-" she stuttered.
"Thanks!" Flia gushed, leaning forward and falling on her knees with a thud that made Kelsthadesa wince. "Thanks, Kella. I've never seen a queen up close before. Shards, she's beautiful! But are queens all so pale?" The constant stream of chatter took a moment to process.
"No, just her. I think it's marvelous, though," Kelsthadesa said defensively.
"No need to get all huffy. I think it's pretty, too," Flia babbled. "But c'mon, I didn't just come to soc'lize, we gotta get you ready for the after-Hatching feast!"
"The –?"
"Shards, you don't know about the Hatching feast? Where have you been?" Flia's eyes widened in surprise.
Not in a Weyr. "I just –"
"Anyway, enough chitter-chatter. Let's get you dressed up all nice-like! C'mon, let's go to the headwoman. I think she's a-got somethin' nice for you!"
"Oh – oh, that'll be… lovely," Kelsthadesa said weakly.
"Then c'mon, Kella, let's go!" said Flia impatiently, leaping to her feet and tugging insistently on Kelsthadesa's arm.
"Hey, Setha, Flia sounds like you," Myuthi said, elbowing the girl in the ribs and grinning.
"Hey!" Setha said, pouting. "Does not!"
Joya's mouth was twitching again. "Actually, he's got a point, Setha."
"Breil…" Setha began to whine.
The woman hurriedly continued the story
The long blue gown swirled around Kelsthadesa's ankles as she twisted her hips experimentally. "It's lovely! Thank you, Headwoman Yaila," she breathed.
"No problem, child," Yaila said, waving her hand. Her carefully arranged locks had fallen loose and were dangling around her face. Finding a suitable dress for Kelsthadesa had been more of a chore than had been anticipated.
"C'mon out here, Kella!" came Flia's muffled whine from the other side of the curtain. "Lemme see!"
'Kella' obediently stepped out, twirling the dress again for Flia's benefit. The girl cocked her head critically to the side, squinting as she studied the outfit. "It'll do," she finally decided with a decisive nod.
Headwoman Yaila laughed. "Well, Weyrling Weyrwoman," she chuckled, "now that you have Flia's approval, I'd say you can go to the feast. You'll be the last one to arrive by now."
"Oh!" Kelsthadesa said. "Then I guess I should go."
"No, really?" said Setha sarcastically.
"No, really?" said Flia sarcastically –
"Ha!" cried Myuthi triumphantly.
Setha pouted and pulled her legs up under her, hugging her knees to her chest. "Keep going, Breil," she said, sticking her thumb in her mouth.
– though she deflated under Headwoman Yaila's glare. "I mean, c'mon, I'll take you!" And with that, she bounded to her feet and began to pull Kelsthadesa out and over to where the feast was taking place, chattering all the way about this and that, not even letting the queenrider have a word in edgewise.
Finally, they arrived, and Flia dropped Kelsthadesa's arm. "Right, then, have fun!" she said. "Bye, Kella!" And with that, she slipped off and disappeared.
Great. Now what was Kelsthadesa supposed to do? A hush fell over the large crowd, and she hesitated. Where should she go? She found herself wishing that Flia had stayed.
"Ah, Kelsthadesa," said a deep, rich voice. She spun around to see Weyrleader B'vindel walking up to her. "I believe your family is here to congratulate you." He took her elbow (people seemed to be grabbing her arms a lot) and turned her toward a table. The people all quickly began talking again and ignored them.
"Kelthadetha?" cried an incredulous little voice. "Thithter!" And Kelsthadesa's youngest sister – who'd lost most of her teeth falling out of a tree – ran up to her, beaming. "You got a dragon!" she said, beaming even wider when she made it through the sentence without mangling the words too badly.
"That thoundth like me," said little Kinja, who had also recently lost her large front teeth. She grinned sheepishly. A few of the children laughed, and even Breil paused for a slight smile before going on.
"What's her name, dear?" asked Kelsthadesa's mother.
"Mailaath."
"How beautiful!"
But Kelsthadesa's father was still staring, stony-faced at her.
"Something wrong, Kelsthonor?" asked Adesanay, Kelsthadesa's mother.
"Your dragon has no wings?" Kelsthonor said in a low voice. Kelsthadesa shrank back.
"N-no, but – "
"How is she to fulfill her duty to Pern?" he demanded. Kelsthadesa's eyes widened.
"Father – "
His eyes flashed. "I only hope you can fulfill yours." He stood up. "I'm going to get more wine, dear," he said to Adesanay. Then he walked away. Kelsthadesa, her mother, and sister gaped after him.
"I-I'm sorry, sweeting," her mother finally said, recovering somewhat. "I don't know what's gotten into him." And she rushed off after him, most likely to berate him.
Looking up at her family's newest rider, Adethona asked her big sister, "Ith you OK, Kelththadetha? Did Father hurt your feelingth?"
"I… don't know yet," Kelsthadesa said.
"That evil man!" Setha finally blurted out. She blushed. "Sorry, I was trying not to interrupt. But I couldn't help it!"
"Really, Breil," said Joya, frowning. "I can't believe anyone would really be like that."
"Well, he is!" snapped Myuthi. "C'mon Breil! What happens next?"
Kelsthadesa was treated politely all evening. People smiled at her and asked her the usual questions. But she was different. Her dragon was different.
Through the night, however, she and some of the other riders with "crippled" dragons began to band together. There was Z'keiko, who she had met earlier, whose brown Zinterth had no tail. There was blond Y'skay, whose blue Flith had very small wings. J'rabazn's green Mazeth had tiny legs and a small head. And there was I'slik, whose blue Caseoth had such thin hide that you could feel his bones – and practically see every one, too. All the dragons from the clutch were pale and smallish, but the five riders of the dragonets were the most looked down upon.
I'slik, who had brown hair that was streaked through with blond (he called it "dirty blond") was munching on a bubbly pie, talking with Kelsthadesa. "Yeah, everyone seems to think that there's something wrong with us." He glared at a young child who'd been staring at them. I'slik nudged Kelsthadesa in the ribs. "C'mon, glare! They're never going to stop treating us like this unless we make 'em."
"Yeah! Glare!" Felmor cried. Then, he deflated under many glares. "Uh…"
"Yes, but I'm a queenrider. I'm supposed to behave properly," Kelsthadesa sighed.
"They're not," pointed out brown haired, green-eyed J'rabazn, who seemed to have winked in from between, he appeared so suddenly. "Why should you?"
"I don't want to sink to their level. Why give them the satisfaction?" Kelsthadesa asked, though, if truth be told, she was very tempted by the male riders' suggestions.
"You're too good," sighed J'rabazn, shaking his head as though disappointed. "You're never going to make it through life with morals like that."
"Listen to the brilliant greenrider!" I'slik said earnestly.
"Eh, leave 'er alone," said Z'keiko, coming up with a huge plate of roast wherry that Kelsthadesa could hardly imagine would fit in his stomach. "What're you talking about, anyway?"
"Right, that's enough story-ing for now!" said a woman, walking up. Breil looked up, surprised. "It's dinner time," Enya, another woman, explained.
"Oh, right. Go on, children. Go eat, then we can continue the story," said Breil.
"Aww…"
"Just a little longer?"
"Please?"
"Do I have to?"
Enya chuckled. "Must be a good story, Harper Breil."
"It is!"
"You'd like it!"
Enya laughed outright. "My, you're all enthusiastic! But you'd best eat while the food is warm. Go on, now! Get!" The young ones sighed and got reluctantly to their feet, grumbling with annoyance. "You can get some food, too, Breil. Over with us, get away from their chatter!" Enya said, smiling. She winked.
"Thank you, Enya. Go on, I'll see you when you're done with your meal," said Breil. Immediately the children began to dart away. "But chew your food!" she called after them.
Over their dinner, they began to earnestly chatter about the story in between every hurried bite.
"Of course Mailaath's gonna be OK. It's a story, isn't it?"
"I think Kelsthadesa's gonna run away!"
"Where to, dimglow?"
"Hi-ya! Take that!"
"Ow, don't poke that fork at me!"
Well, maybe not all discussions were about the story.
I don't remember any references to exactly what would happen if a queen went between while too pregnant, but this is my interpretation. If anyone else remembers differently, I could list this as AU or something. Anyway, please review!