AHAHAHA Merope, special and wonderful and clever. Ah, yes, special? Perhaps. She's the only gold rider I have ever seen that has no idea what she's doing with her Weyr. She didn't expect to be Senior and is fortunate that there are numerous other folk who will bother to run the Weyr for her. I think her only brilliant move, ever, was to spur Enthalda into stemming the chaos of a dual green flight at a gather, and it was by pointing out that the Fort Weyrleader's bronze was chasing. Her other actions? Not so much. She abuses her power to bring hell to those she hates, kinda like how a Suethor has her Mary Sue beat up characters she hates. She let a traitor get extremely close to her and had no idea that he was keeping vital information from her until it was too late. She can hardly stop the murders that happen under her nose, because she doesn't know how. Yep. Definitely not another Lessa—she can hear all dragons, but I don't abuse the power in RP and it's a wonderful paranoia factor for anyone who is scheming against the Church.

So yes, this story is going to be depressing. It's meant to be; Merope is a sad, miserable example of how the Church doesn't only make life hell for Blue and Green riders, but for Gold riders as well. And she's characterized as a paranoid, vicious woman who has been hurt before in the past and is determined not to be hurt again, so she has to have a past that explains why she has that mindset. People aren't born jaded and afraid. This also is a wonderful way of saying "Impressing Gold doesn't solve all your problems!" I don't really remember much of the "gold-miracle" in the books, but it's in the fans and I hate it. Ugh.

So yeah. Anywho, on to write more. And yes, Octo, little U'rz, oh yay . Hurrah for describing somewhat adorable versions of our future Junior/Senior Weyrleader. Also has a bit of Ska, since she's still in the house at this point. I don't feel too comfortable describing Boaz, since I never saw him in much more than Cbox banters where I'en announced that Boaz was his new favorite person, so he will only be mentioned.

As for the rest of the Irichan members, I will try to make references to other characters, but there won't be that many. This is my excuse for not writing Merope's history on her profile.

It was a beautiful day for rain. Really. Just bloody perfect. If there was anything Merope loved more than being dropped into the Orul, it was rain. She just prayed for the day she could come to mop marble floors and polish gold dragon statues while trying not to die of pneumonia.

Eleven Turns was too young for a girl to be laboring away as a paid worker. The old term "drudge" was still used, though drudgery was outlawed eons ago. "Slavery," Fort had said, "is hardly complementary to our glorious Faranth. We are all born of her, and we are all her children. No man shall own another." It'd be wonderful if that were true, Merope thought. She got a fourth-mark a day for slaving like this, and sometimes the boss-lady would "forget" to pay her or decide that Merope had broken some made-up rule and thus didn't deserve her pay.

She understood now why her father complained that the members of the upper class were criminals. She was sitting here polishing a solid gold statue that was almost as big as she was, and yet her hands alone could point out the injustice. Raw red skin and bloodied knuckles served as the proof that she worked hard, and that the chemicals in the soap were too corrosive for anyone to touch, let alone a girl whose breasts hadn't even grown in yet. Then there were the work hours, which on a usual day were bad enough. But this week put the blood cherry on the shit cake.

Lord Dakq had two sons, and the elder would be having a birthday in less than a week. It wasn't enough of an event to merit a proper Gather, but many influential people would be visiting House Rabastre for a meal and some dancing. Whispers in the hall claimed that Enthalda herself would be there, and that put Headwoman Medri on her toes.

"Can't have the Icon thinking we're a bunch of pigs!" Medri yelled this to the point where Merope was certain that Medri had some sexual fantasy about Fort's Weyrwoman taking one look at the ballroom, smiling, and saying, "This is a really nice place."

Merope sighed and threw her rag back into the cleaning cart. "Dunno why this is necessary," she grumbled. "Already cleaner'n a nunnery." Now to do the baseboards. Merope bent to the lower half of the cart, grabbing the handle of a bucket full of soapy water. Despite her efforts, it would not move. She swore, flushed, checked to see that no one heard her, then tried again. This time, the bucket inched up out of its holder.

"C'mon c'mon c'mon," she whispered as she pulled harder. And then, it came free.

Unfortunately, it did not come out neatly. Merope fell back with the now-empty bucket in her hands, slipping on the soapy water and falling back-first onto the marble floor. She could fell the slimy soap against her skin, and knew she should probably stand up before it began to eat into her pores, but there was no motivation. Why bother? Everything she had done up until this point was a wasted effort. Medri would never be satisfied and wouldn't pay her, and then Merope would have to swipe food from the kitchen so she and Momma could eat. Medri hadn't caught her yet, but when the Headwoman found out, Merope would be out of a job. And then what? This was the best place to work in the city if you were an unskilled laborer; other noble families payed a half mark a week and she'd have to live with them, without Momma.

There was the industry district, but the bosses there worked men and women hard. Women didn't earn as much and were likely to be coerced into prostitution. Her father died in those factories, and many of her friends and their fathers also suffered under those conditions. As a child, Merope would sit next to her father's chair on the Seventh Day and listen to him talk with the other men about work conditions. One man told a story about how his son collapsed one day while leaving and no one bothered to help him up. His son had a bad leg since birth, but worked hard to keep his family from starving. He cried for assistance for hours. Merope listened with wide eyes and her father told her to leave, but she didn't. She still had nightmares of giant ikuzu creeping from the darkness of her room, gnashing their large, sharp teeth and moving their mutated hands, the ones that grew from their mid-torso and that grabbed and squeezed and tore...

But Merope would not go to the factories unless it was her only option. She could do what Asterope did and try to run off to a Weyr. But that was three years ago, and still there was no word. Of the Dragon Weyrs, Merope was told nothing. People on the street and maids in the Lord's House whispered about the new Weyr, Irichan, and how Brissena had executed anyone who spoke out against her. The priests and the Lord hailed the coming of Brissena and her gold Airunth, and Rabastre gladly adjusted her tithes to favor Irichan instead of the Topaz Outpost. But of what the Weyrs were really like, Merope did not know. She knew that R'ghu was a wealthy bronze rider, and also the Weyrleader, but nothing more than what Sholanoth told her. R'ghu didn't talk to her. He wanted her to go away so he could take Alasta to the Weyr and keep her there in his harem until he got bored with her, and then what would happen?

She opened her eyes a tad, then shut them again. Her mother would have a better life if it wasn't for her. R'ghu had shown them glimpses of riches that Merope and Asterope had only dreamed about. His home was probably as nice as this one, and there would be food all the time, and no cleaning to do, and no waiting until midnight for the appearance of a missing sister or a dead father. She sighed. Perhaps if she lied here long enough, she would disappear the way dragons do and then she could go anywhere she wanted.

A cold flash signaled that something had entered or left between, but it wasn't her. Merope could only think of one thing that would bother coming to her, and she sat up just in time to have a blue fire-lizard land on her shoulder. He crooned with concern and nuzzled her chin and jaw, but she ignored him and scoured the room with her eyes.

"Svolska," she whispered, trying her hardest not to draw attention from anyone that might be lurking in the halls, "you're not supposed to be here." The blue chirped. He knew that! Merope could feel his concern and rubbed his tiny head. "I do love you, Svolska, but you know that if Medri caught you in here I would get fired." He sent her a picture of fire, and then cocked his head. "No, not flamed. I would lose my job. And then there would be no more food." He understood that, and he hissed as he curled closer to her. "I know that you care for me, Svolska, but really." She kissed his head. "I'm fine. Really. I just fell."

"Looked like more'n that to me."

The voice came from nowhere. Merope jumped and grabbed Svolska. The blue screeched and wriggled in her grasp. His eyes whirled red; he wanted to know who was here and making his Bonded frightened!

"Hey, hey, calm down." The bookcase in the corner moved a foot from the wall and a tall, dark-haired girl stood up. "You're a bit young for my tastes, and I'm not going to hurt you."

Merope didn't move to stand. There was no way she could, as the soap prevented movement. But she tightened her grip on Svolska. "Who are you? What are you doing? Why are you in here?" The words flew off her tongue so fast that she was surprised that the other girl caught each one.

"Ska," she said. "Illska Gijack, actually. Horrible name, but the rest of my family has some pretty awful names as well." Ska placed an arm on the bookshelf and then hoisted herself onto the wood, perching there to watch Merope from a safe distance. "As for what I'm doing, I'm hiding, see?" She laughed. "My li'l brother and I are playing Hide and Seek, yep. It keeps us out of the way and out of trouble, and you can never underestimate peace in this hellpit." A momentary flash of disgust crossed Ska's face, but it passed and the self-confident smirk returned. "And as for you, what's your name? And that pretty blue of yours, too. He's gorgeous. Always wanted a flit myself, but I got Pete and lemme tell you, those Shaltiri Riding Wherries hate fire-lizards."

Merope listened, though a cold stab went through her stomach as Ska spoke. Upon hiring, she was told to learn the names of all the members of Rabastre's First Family. She was also told to stay out of their way, which was why that after six months on the job, she hadn't talked to a single one. She was told that Lord Dakq and his Lady were cold, vicious, and violent. Sometimes she could hear someone screaming in the next room, and someone getting smacked, and things breaking. She had seen a bit of the family, and the memories of the bruises on the faces of the boys made her grateful for her mother.

She didn't trust Ska, however, and Ska could tell. "I'm not like them, you know." She nodded her head at the large portrait of the Lord and his Lady. "I'm pro'lly the only person here that won't gut you for breathing." With that, she stepped off her perch and walked over to the cleaning cart. "Need some help?"

Merope quivered. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"'Cause I can." Ska grasped one of the mop handles and pulled the cleaning utensil free. Merope watched as a trapped animal watches a hunter move outside the bars. But Ska made no move to hit her, and she even got enough of the water for Merope to stand up. Merope darted to the other side of the cleaning cart, Svolska still in her hands. Soon the floor was clean and Ska grinned from ear to ear as she admired her reflection in the smooth marble floor.

"There ain't nothing like hard work," she said. "Whether it's training Pete or helping servants or fixing up whatever the hell I can get my hands on, I love being busy." Despite her fear, Merope's heart wrenched. Ska was miserable, perhaps as much as Merope. Ska might not have said it or showed it, but Merope could tell that the misery and confinement was there.

She was about to tell Ska her name and thank her properly when a boy of around eight turns charged in. "Jackie!" Ska's head jerked up. "You're supposed to be hiding!" he barked. "How can I find you if you're just standing around?"

Ska stuck out her lower jaw and glared daggers at the child. "Well, for your information Uarz, I was hiding, but alas, chivalry demanded that I show my face." Her snide tone combined with Uarz's indignant actions reminded Merope of her own sister. There was love between Ska and Uarz, and the proof came when Ska bolted over and grabbed the boy by the arm and started tickling him and yelling about how much of a little turd he was. Ska seemed like the kind of girl that did what she wanted, when she wanted, and now Merope saw why Ska didn't abandon this place for something better.

But Asterope didn't love Merope or Momma enough to stay. Asterope thought of herself first, and that was why she hadn't come back. Merope bit her tongue to keep from crying. Uarz bolted down the hall, and Ska didn't even look back as she chased after her brother. Perhaps it was for the best. She ordered Svolska to go away before someone caught her with him. Then she was left to finish her work in peace.

Medri actually paid her, and Merope got out of work before the sun set. It was safe to walk, and she'd be able to save her pitiful pay instead of buying a ticket on the street car. Tomsa, the nicest cook in the kitchens, hadn't gotten off yet. She gave Merope a hefty portion of lunch's leftovers and sent the girl on her way. The rain had even let up. It was misting, but no longer raining pitchers like it had been earlier, and so Merope ran home with her parcel of food close to her chest and Svolska flying overhead.

On the way to her home, she pretended she was an airship pirate. When she was in a good enough mood, Merope acted like the child she used to be. In her mind, she was a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed woman with skin the color of a wheat field rather than some tiny blond whose eyes were boring brown and skin white as alabaster. Svolska wasn't just a fire-lizard, he was an actual dragon. He was strong and brave and smart as any bronze, and together they were the most feared dragon riding pirate pair ever to breathe the air. But what were they doing in Rabastre?

Hmm...

They were going to save a bunch of poor workers from a boss who kept taking their wives down to the Third District where all the whore-ladies were. Yes! And maybe when they were on the way, they would meet a brave young lad who was penniless and desperate to help save his mother and sister and father. He would be strong and handsome and kind and he would save her when she was in danger, but it was she, Merope of Blue Svolska (she didn't know enough dragons to know the naming restrictions), that would save the day. And in the end she would marry her handsome young man and they would go... Somewhere. Somewhere green, where grass grew everywhere and not between cracks in the sidewalks.

And perhaps they would have another adventure, only this time her husband would be her sidekick. But she didn't have time to make herself another story before she made it home. And then the color faded, the image left, Svolska became a fire-lizard, and she found herself staring into the yawning face of a brown shanty that was falling apart at the edges. This was their home. This was her reality.

The door was closed but not bolted. The front room was empty, but she could hear voices in the back room. R'ghu was here. Her stomach sank as she put her leftovers in the fridge and grabbed the last of the prior night's bounty. She ate in silence, feeding bits of meat to Svolska and watching him snap them up. "I wish you were a dragon," she whispered to the blue. "Then you could take me far away, and we wouldn't be here."

Pity that you would want a blue, Little Fledgling. Merope's mood lightened considerably when Sholanoth's deep voice filled her mind. There are much finer things than blues, you know.

Like what?

Like myself, for instance. Merope rolled her eyes at Sholanoth's tone. No, it's true! But she knew when Sholanoth was kidding, and she knew that the bronze was hardly as biased as his rider.

If there was one good thing about R'ghu's visits, it was Sholanoth. He was the only dragon Merope had ever met. She had seen others, of course, and always knew when a dragon was near-by, but she hadn't talked to any but Sholanoth. Her knowledge of dragon riders was limited, and the fact that she had a unique gift had never occurred to her. Sholanoth told no one of their conversations, and never implied that she was special. Merope figured that everyone could talk to dragons like that, since the riders spoke mind-to-mind with their dragons and no one had ever said that they couldn't.

She talked to the bronze until she ran out of things to talk about. He took interest in her day, and was probably the only creature that did. Alasta would listen over dinner when R'ghu wasn't in the house, but she always looked off to the distance and stopped talking after a while. Sholanoth, on the other hand, adored the attention Merope gave him. At one point he had mentioned that eventually riders don't talk to their dragons about everything. He seemed sad, and Merope wished she could meet him face-to-face and stroke his massive eye-ridges, doing the job that R'ghu no longer did.

She didn't cry that night, not with Sholanoth there. He managed to drown out the sounds of her mother and R'ghu in the next room. He told her stories of his Weyr, listed things he picked out of his rider's mind, and sent her images of the night sky above Rabastre. He repeated himself often, but Merope didn't care. She pulled the night-covers close to her. Svolska curled up against her chest and yawned as he pressed against her body. Merope slept without fear of nightmares, for Svolska and Sholanoth were her best friends, and they would never hurt her.

We had an "Advice for Irichan" thread in our OOC boards. SOCR mentioned how happiness on Irichan was the warm, wonderful feeling you got right before your hopes and dreams were shattered with an iron fist.

I almost feel bad for Merope, but then again she gets to keep her kid and her dragon. Can't say the same for Rush and K'ran.

Oh well.