My sincerest apologies. Life has kept me busy and I was loathe to keep Arryn and Vell in limbo. But...ta-da! New chapter. New drama. Brighten up my exam week with some nice reviews? As always, enjoy.
Arwen
"Calm down," said T'ran quietly, following his weyrmate to the other end of the chartroom. He wrapped his arms about her and said into her hair, "We'll find Sh'let, but we've a Fall to ride first. We need to keep planning, but we can spare two riders to go on a search."
"I'll go," Lira volunteered immediately, stepping toward the pair. H'rath put a hand on her shoulder.
"And I as well," he said.
"I'm sorry," Arryn said, sighing as she finally succeeded in separating herself from Maventh's roiling emotions. The green dragon launched herself from the fire-heights, too anxious to sit still. Arryn felt the wind in her wings…Maventh's wings. She shook her head—she knew they were probably one of the closest pairs at the Weyr, but short of seeing double vision she wasn't sure how much closer she was able to get to Maventh's consciousness before totally losing herself. With a great effort, she drew up a mental barrier, separating herself from Maventh…it was an almost physical pain, but it faded after a few moments. She could still feel Maventh, she just wasn't experiencing everything with her lifemate. It was too much to handle at once. If she was going to be able to lead her Weyr in a Fall, she needed to have her wits about her. "Sorry," she said again, shaking her head a little to clear it. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I agree. We will ride Fall. And we won't jump to conclusions about Sh'let, but I'd like to know his whereabouts before the Fall, if at all possible." To Lira and H'rath, she said, "I can spare one of you, but not both. I can find two others, if you prefer."
"No," said Lira firmly, her mouth thinning into a stubborn line that Arryn recognized as reminiscent of her own expression. "You need someone you trust, someone you know. It will calm Maventh, to know that Baerth is looking for her lost hatchling."
"They're far from hatchlings," murmured K'lin, a strange expression on his face.
"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Lira, putting her hands on her hips as she faced the bronze-rider, clearly not intimidated by either his striking good looks or his rank within the Weyr. Then again, thought Arryn, Lira was very seldom intimidated by anyone at all.
"Nothing in particular," demurred K'lin, a hint of a smirk in his eyes. Lira punched him in the arm. He laughed at her and the mood of the room lifted as Arryn smiled.
"No, actually, what I think that K'lin is trying to say," interjected V'remnar, the same odd expression passing over his features, "is that the queen is rising soon."
"What?" Lira said sharply. Her eyes went unfocused for a second. "Hm. You're right. Baerth says it's coming in waves."
"What's coming in waves?" Arryn asked.
"Do you honestly not feel it?" V'remnar asked. "Oy, T'ran, think it'll be tomorrow or tonight?"
"Well, I hope it's tomorrow, after the Fall," T'ran replied distractedly, poring over the charts. Then he froze, and looked up rather guiltily.
"You didn't tell me?" Arryn asked, jealousy flashing across her mind for just an instant. She took a step back. Shards, what was wrong with her? "I mean," she said in a softer tone, "I know that Finneseth will rise soon." She looked up at the other riders with a half-smile. "Definitely tomorrow, if not the day after. Hopefully the day after, so that it's not right after Fall."
K'lin closed his eyes for a minute. "By the First Egg," he said, half a groan in his voice, "the girl doesn't have any control. She'll drive the whole weyr mad before Fall if she can't get that queen of hers to settle down."
"It builds up anticipation," offered V'remnar with a glint in his eye, winking at K'lin.
"Don't you have that green-rider you're always yammering about?" Lira asked, punching V'remnar's arm.
"Well, yes, but she knows how it is." V'remnar put up a hand to defend himself. "Ow—woman, I need that arm to fly Fall tomorrow?" Lira grinned at him cheekily and then squealed as H'rath goosed her.
"Come on," H'rath said. "Time to call it a night. Say goodbye to the nice Weyrleaders."
"Goodbye," Lira parroted dutifully as H'rath picked her up and carried her out of the room.
"See what I mean?" said K'lin to T'ran. "We can't have everyone unfocused like that."
"I'll go talk to her," said Arryn with a note of finality in her voice. She turned at the door and eyed T'ran and K'lin. "Was I this bad?" she asked, half-knowing the answer.
"Not even close," said T'ran as K'lin collapsed onto a chair by the chart-table. "And by that I mean…yes."
Arryn grinned and strode out of the chart-room, her purposeful steps striding toward the Queen's Weyr. She reached the Queen's Weyr, the light of a glow-basket illuminating the passageway. After a brisk knock, she opened the door.
Vell looked up from rummaging through her supply of oils and cloths. Finneseth had been asking to be oiled all day, despite the fact that she was quite finished growing and only needed to be oiled once a week at most, and she'd been oiled the day before. Vell had a sneaking suspicion that Finneseth just wanted her hide to shine brighter for the bronzes, and told her dragon as much, only to receive a light tail-thump that nevertheless swept her off her feet. She tucked back a tendril of dark hair from her forehead and glanced at the door. "Yes?"
The Weyrwoman strode in, wearing an old oversized shirt and worn breeches tucked into her boots, her red-gold hair caught back in a hasty braid. She nodded as Vell stood hastily. "Good afternoon, Vell."
"Good afternoon, Weyrwoman," the young woman replied warily. Was the Weyrwoman here to chastise her about something she had done, something wrong of which she was unaware? Perhaps Amhira had said something to the Weyrwoman before her departure. Or perhaps she had not done a good job at flying sweep last Fall, and the Weyrwoman wished to discuss her failing with her before the Fall tomorrow.
You are no failure, Finneseth said firmly. You are the queenrider of Benden Weyr. Take pride in yourself.
I just feel as though the Weyrwoman doesn't approve of me, Vell replied with a hint of self-pity. No matter how hard she tried, her self-confidence wavered when confronted with the inscrutable Weyrwoman.
Arryn caught an edge of the pair's exchange—she meant to tune them out, but without talking to Maventh there was a blank space in her mind that their conversation filled, so she almost unwillingly listened, hiding her surprise at the dark-haired girl's obvious nervousness at her presence. She didn't really understand why the girl was so nervous around her, whether there was some reason she didn't know about, but the pair's exchange just seemed to be the musings of an insecure young rider—nothing that couldn't be solved by a little encouragement. And beneath the white-gold queen's words she felt the lust, her body clenching in response to the young queen's blatant sexuality. "Vell, may I have a word with you?"
"Of course, Weyrwoman," the young woman said, nearly tripping over herself to offer the older woman a seat at the table in the next room. From her couch, Finneseth fixed one whirling eye on the pair. Arryn smiled a little at the queen's protective air.
Arryn took a deep breath. "I'm going to speak frankly."
Vell cringed inwardly. She had the feeling this was not going to be a comfortable conversation.
"I think I haven't been quite fair to you and Finneseth," continued the Weyrwoman, her green eyes considering the pale, dark-haired rider sitting across from her.
Vell blinked. "I…what?"
Arryn nodded. "I think we've had a grand misunderstanding for a while now. And it's not your fault, it's mine." She felt Maventh pushing at the borders of her mind and ignored her for a moment, focusing on the task at hand. "You see…well, after Finneseth hatched, I realized that the one of Benden's bronzes would fly her someday." Shards, I haven't done my job, she thought when she saw the panic surface in the younger rider's eyes at the mention of her queen's rising. "And…truth be told, it made me nervous."
"Nervous? Why would …oh." Vell looked down, feeling a hot blush flaming in her cheeks. "I don't want Ereth to fly Finneseth. Not at all."
Arryn struggled to contain her own blush and couldn't help but chuckle. Vell looked up, startled and on the edge of tears, it seemed, at the Weyrwoman's flippant attitude toward something so very important. Arryn hastened to clarify. "No, no, Vell, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at myself. I've been a right wherry-headed idiot about the whole thing. You probably think I don't like you since I didn't train you."
"Yes," Vell agreed hesitantly. If they were getting everything out into the open, she figured she should be truthful.
"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do it," Arryn admitted rather sheepishly. "I'm only a green-rider, you know."
Vell had to consciously stop herself from gaping openly. "Only a green-rider?" she repeated in disbelief. "Weyrwoman—"
"Arryn."
"Arryn…you brought this weyr back from the edge of disaster. Maventh did what no other green has ever done and you're her rider and that counts for something in my book."
Arryn blinked and looked at the queen-rider with new eyes, suddenly glad that Finneseth had chosen the raven-haired, pretty girl instead of the solid-looking Rija—who had Impressed a green, if she remembered correctly.
"I understand now," Vell continued with more composure, settling back into her chair and folding her hands in her lap. "And I promise you, I've never wanted Ereth to fly Finneseth. In all honesty, I'd rather she didn't rise at all. I know that's not possible, but…" She shrugged and trailed off.
"You're nervous," said Arryn.
"That's an understatement," corrected Vell with a self-deprecating smile.
"I apologize. I haven't done my duties in that respect."
"Oh no," said Vell hastily, "Amhira—Shirath's rider, from Southern—she explained the…the mechanics of it all to me…and it's not as though my mother didn't educate me before I left High Reaches. It's just that…" She pulled an expressive face. "Well. There's nothing for it, I suppose, other than saying it. I've never been with a man before. And I'm scared it won't be someone I love. Is that horrible?"
"No," Arryn said gently. "It's not. Trust me, it's not easy, knowing that you don't really have control. But…do you trust Finneseth?"
"With my life," replied Vell, a warm rush of love overwhelming her at the thought of her dragon. Finneseth crooned from her weyr, eliciting a smile from both riders.
"So…you just have to trust that the bronze who catches her will be the right one," finished Arryn reasonably. "It's harder than it sounds, I know, but when the time comes you certainly won't be thinking about much else."
"Really?" asked Vell in a small voice. "Marlin…rider of Ariath…well, she told me I should set my sights."
"And have you?" asked Arryn, a glint in her eye as she leaned forward conspiratorially.
Vell pursed her lips together in a small smile and then leaned forward across the table. She decided she liked the Weyrwoman immensely, now that the whole misunderstanding had been cleared up. "K'lin, rider of bronze Pertanth."
Arryn sat back. "I knew it."
"Does he…well, does he want Pertanth to fly Finneseth?" Vell asked breathlessly. Arryn only smiled and folded her arms across her chest.
"I would be using my position to my advantage if I took this conversation any further," she said.
Vell groaned. "He doesn't like me."
"That's not what I said."
"Well, you didn't say anything so what am I supposed to think?" demanded Vell.
Arryn laughed. "Fine. Yes. I suppose. I mean, it's not like I've had an open discussion with him about the matter, but the fact is, he's fair distracted right now. Apparently he can feel your queen's…um...feelings of anticipation, if you get my meaning."
"Oh. Oh." Vell glanced back at Finneseth, who took the opportunity to preen very obviously. "Is she really that…bad? I mean, I can feel her, but I couldn't tell that everyone else could."
"It's not everyone else," said Arryn reassuringly. "It's mostly just the bronzes, and a few of the more perceptive browns and blues."
"Still." Vell made a face. Did you hear that, love? I think you need to tone it down a bit.
Why should I? Finneseth responded. I want them to think about it. I want them to think about me.
The white-gold queen's last words came on a rush of sensuality so strong that it made Vell's head reel and she heard the Weyrwoman clear her throat.
Finneseth, she said firmly once her head stopped spinning. I need you to control yourself. There's a Fall tomorrow morning, and a lot of dragons might get hurt if they're distracted. Tone it down. I mean it.
Finneseth rumbled unhappily in her throat but Vell knew her logic had reached the restless queen when the haze of longing diminished.
Thank you, dearest. Don't worry. Your time will come soon enough, she said, hoping her dragon didn't detect her apprehension. If Finneseth did, she let it pass unnoticed.
"It would be best if she didn't rise until the day after the Fall. The bronzes will be tired, as she will be, tomorrow, so I don't think that will happen," reasoned Arryn.
Vell nodded. "Finneseth says it will probably be the day after tomorrow."
"Good. Now, there was something else I wanted to ask you. Have you seen Sh'let and Parnileth lately?"
"I saw them at the lake this morning, but other than that, I haven't seen them all day," replied Vell. "Why?"
"No matter." The Weyrwoman's smile was strained as she stood. "I don't want to be rude and cut our conversation short, but we've been rearranging the wings and I should get back to the chart-room."
Vell nodded. "Of course. I understand." When she went to grip forearms with the Weyrwoman she instead found herself in a hug.
"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," said Arryn softly, releasing the younger rider.
Vell smiled. "I'm just glad that you like me."
Arryn laughed. "Don't worry. Everything will turn out fine," she reassured the young queen-rider. And with that she took her leave, heading back to the chart-room, thoroughly satisfied with her productive conversation. Perhaps now K'lin wouldn't be reduced to a slack-jawed idiot every few minutes, she thought in amusement. As she rounded a corner in the passageway she suddenly found herself on the ground, head ringing, with absolutely no idea of how she had gotten there.
"By the First Egg, I'm sorry, are you all right, Arryn?"
It was P'tar. Arryn groaned. "Why…Shards. Why did you run me over?" She rubbed her hip gingerly and then checked her head. No blood. Good. P'tar helped her up.
"I was just coming to get you. We tried to get Maventh to tell you, but she said you were blocking her out."
Arryn sensed the note of panic and urgency in P'tar's voice. "Why? What's happened?"
"We've found Parnileth and Sh'let," said P'tar.
"That's good!" exclaimed Arryn. "They're not lost—that's excellent, Lira will be back for Fall tomorrow—"
But P'tar was shaking his head and trying to say something through her joyful tirade. "No," he said two or three times. Then he took her arms. "Arryn, listen to me."
"What?" Arryn frowned.
P'tar let out a shaky breath. "There's…there's something wrong with them."
"They're hurt?" she asked concernedly.
"I suppose you could say that," he replied, uncharacteristically gently.
"What's wrong with them?" she demanded.
"We don't know how it happened," he said softly, still holding her arms.
"How what happened?" Her voice was rising.
"Sh'let and Parnileth…their connection…it's gone."
"What?" Arryn stared at him. "That's impossible. That doesn't happen. That's impossible, P'tar."
"No, it's not," P'tar said. "I've seen them…and…it's gone." He spoke the words very softly, with an utter sadness. "It's like both of them lost the other…but they're still here. We don't know how it happened."
Maventh. Arryn reached out blindly for her dragon and found herself embracing P'tar at the same time and she didn't care. All she wanted to know was that this was a horrible, horrible trick. Some cruel joke. Mav, tell me it's not true. Tell me it's not true, love.
Parnileth cannot speak to Sh'let, said Maventh grievingly. He can speak to me, but he is very confused. He is not the same.
"No," whispered Arryn. P'tar's arms tightened about her as she felt tears slide down her face. "When did you find them?"
"Just a few minutes ago."
She pulled away from the comforting embrace, swiping at her face angrily. There was an implacable fury budding in her breast. She could feel it and she welcomed it. "Bring me to them."
P'tar led her wordlessly to the infirmary. In the weyr-sized treatment room, blue Parnileth lay, curled around Sh'let, who seemed to be sleeping. His face was dirty, and scraped on one side. A bandage covered one arm. Arryn knelt by the young man and touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked at her. They gazed at each other wordlessly for a few moments. Then Sh'let said, "I can't feel him, Weyrwoman. He's here, but I can't…Parnileth…" The blue crooned and wrapped himself tighter about his distressed rider.
Arryn gripped Sh'let's shoulder. "If you need anything, Sh'let, you have only to ask."
"I want Parnileth back," whispered the blue-rider, gazing up at his dragon with infinite longing.
Arryn stepped back, and then turned to the healer, finding that it was Paela, an old acquaintance.
"He recognized you," Paela said softly. "That's a good sign."
"Who did this to them?" Her voice was hard with anger. "And how did they do it?"
"We don't know," said P'tar. "We don't know."
"Well, find out," gritted out Arryn, "because when I find them, I'm probably going to kill them."
