BIRTHRIGHT 2 – THE GATHERING
by Soledad
Author's note:
For disclaimer, rating, warnings, etc., see the Prologue.
This particular chapter takes place between the 1st Season episodes "The Pearls That Were His Eyes" and "The Mathematics of Tears". The opening dialogue is a modified version of the opening sequence of TMoT. I messed up the timeline a bit, in order to squeeze in the events of this chapter.
What you can read about Nietzschean culture here is mostly my extrapolation. It's based on what little we are given in canon (up to the end of Season 2), but developed further in a perhaps different way. Especially the stuff about various bloodlines and the names they use.
The insignificant planet Nindalph was named after an area in JRR Tolkien's Middle-Earth (original spelling Nindalf Wetwang).
CHAPTER 10 – WRONGS PAST CASTING PRESENT SHADOWS
As it turned out, Freya had been right and Tyr had been wrong about Beka, who indeed returned, although thirty-six hours too late and with one bitter disappointment richer. But at least with her and Trance being back, the Andromeda could finally continue her journey to Nindalph, one more backwater planet that Dylan hoped to talk into joining his shiny new Commonwealth.
At least this was how Tyr put it, before leaving for the Haukin system.
The captain was not happy about his fire control officer's intended detour, but he knew how high Nietzscheans valued family – or the hope to have one. Besides, he also knew that as long as Freya remained aboard, Tyr would return. Beka had lent him the Maru willingly enough, and Trance and Farrendahl went with him to pick up some new plants and sorely needed resources for Hydroponics.
The negotiations, on the other hand, didn't go well, despite Born to Starfire's efforts to persuade Nindalph's planetary council – a government with friendly enough relations to the Than Hegemony – to at least listen to Dylan's arguments about the possible benefits of a new Commonwealth. The councillors – a colourful mix of Inari, Perseids, Than and Umbrites – seemed to think that since they had been doing just fine without any Commonwealth overseers looking over their collective shoulders, they wouldn't need any in the future, either. At least Höhne and Rekeeb had spent an exciting time of scientific exchange with their fellow chinheads.
Finally, Dylan had to admit that negotiations weren't getting anywhere, and he gave up on Nindalph… for the time being, he said, but deep in their hearts they all knew that it was a fairly permanent thing.
So now they were on their way to Yoso Drift, to pick up Trance and the Makra, as agreed. Radiance of Wisdom was still analyzing the data she had gathered about the solar storm near El Dorado Drift, while various other Than worked at various other stations, Rev Bem meditated in Hydroponics and Dylan, Beka and Harper lingered around on the command deck, trying to deal with the aftertaste of a failed attempt.
Well, Dylan was dealing, that is. Beka was listening to his rant about the unreasonable councillors on Nindalph, and Harper was leafing through mail that had come in during their stop at the planet. Which was how he found a letter from Trance.
"Hey boss," he said, directing his words to Beka while printing the letter out, "it seems we won't meet Trance so soon, after all."
"Really?" Beka asked, relieved that she could listen to someone else than Dylan's laments. "What's the girl up this time?"
"Lemme see," Harper dropped into the chair at the comm station. "She writes they managed to get everything they wanted for Hydroponics. Then: 'I know we were supposed to meet you at Yoso Drift' – Here it comes. She met a guy. – But that was before we found out the mandelbrots are spawning on Ornithone...'"
"Ah," Beka smiled fondly. "Trance and her pets."
"One of the very few constants of the universe," Harper agreed, grinning. Then he continued reading. "Farrendahl says it only happens once a century, so I thought you might understand."
"Once a century?" Beka repeated, faking a very convincing shock. "Wow, they get less action than you, Harper."
Harper gave her a wounded look – whether a genuine one or a fake, it was hard to tell.
"No, they don't," he replied curtly.
There was a short, unpleasant silence, then Dylan asked. "Anything else?"
"Uh..." Harper studied the letter, "just the signature: 'Love Trance. P.S. Pick me up in two weeks'."
"Two weeks?" Dylan repeated in a highly annoyed manner. That's amazing, really amazing. She must think this is her own personal cruise ship."
Beka shrugged, not understanding what all the fuss was about. "We always ran this kind of stuff fast and loose on the Maru," she said dismissively, at which Dylan practically exploded into her face.
"This is not the Maru!" and with that, he stalked out, his whole stance rigid with indignation.
Beka rolled her eyes. "I'm increasingly aware of that, believe me."
"What crawled up his ass and bit him?" Harper wondered.
Sword of Midnight, currently manning Tyr's fire control station, wiggled her antennae. "Perhaps he misses military discipline?"
Beka looked at the ceiling. "Not that shit again! Haven't we been there already?"
"Several times," Harper agreed. "You should go and talk to him, though. Or he'll be even more insufferable than he already is, at the very least until Trance's back."
"He's just mad because he couldn't secure that mudball of a planet for his precious Commonwealth, "Beka said cynically. "But you're right. I'd better talk to him… useless as it would be."
She caught up with the captain before he could have reached his quarters.
"Would you mind telling me what the hell has gotten into you?" she demanded.
"What's gotten into me?" Dylan parroted angrily. "Well, let's see: Rev Bem's retreats, Tyr's family obligations, Harper's surfing competitions, Trance's field trips – I'm a little tired of running around three galaxies picking up this crew from their vacations."
"You're upset we don't salute and ask your permission to disembark?" Beka asked sarcastically. "Maybe you should've settled for an all-Than crew. The bugs seem to have an awful respect for authority – as long as it isn't their own."
Dylan glared daggers at her. "Don't trivialize this, Beka. I need a crew I can depend on."
"We're not the ones putting the lives of everyone at risk for some arcane concept and ideals that belong to a past long forgotten, Captain," Beka said levelly. "Still, we do our best to cope with your demands, even though, as Rev likes to put it, we're just a couple of civilians, trying to do the job of four thousand well-trained soldiers. Harper works himself into an early grave to replace an entire team of highly educated engineers, with the only help of four worker bugs. Trance has been busting her purple tail updating Andromeda's xenobiology program. Tyr might be an arrogant bastard, but without him, we'd be all dead now, thrice over. So, what if they take a little unauthorized vacation time?"
"It's called going AWOL," Dylan growled. "In the old days, that would mean two weeks in the brig."
"The brig," Beka repeated slowly. "I hate to remind you, Captain, but these aren't your good old days anymore. You're in no position to make that sort of threat. You need us just as much as we need you… actually, you need us a lot more. Don't make the mistake to treat us as you'd treat Rommie's droids."
"A properly run ship needs structure," Dylan insisted. "Rules. In three years of captaining the Andromeda, I never had anyone go AWOL. Not once. But this crew, they constantly put their own personal interests above the good of the mission."
"All this crew has ever known has been their own personal interests," Beka replied. "Keeping themselves alive has been their 'mission' their entire lives, and believe me, it's not been an easy task. If they need a little time off, I'd say they'd earned it."
She whirled around to leave, but caught Dylan's nasty remark in mid-turn.
"Earned it, my ass," Hunt said, and Beka stepped back to him, invading his personal space consciously and glaring him directly in the eyes.
"Not everyone used to lead a spoiled and pampered life like you did, Captain, my Captain," she spat. "I won't let you abuse my crew, just because you can't accept that your 'old times' are over, have been for three hundred years. If you're not willing to adapt to the changes, fine. But be so kind and go under without dragging us down with you."
In the meantime, Tyr was on his way to Haukin Vora, after a quick visit by Ferahr Kalinga on Haukin Tau Drift. His old business partner had promised to look out for a ship that would match his needs, and Tyr knew he could count on that. The man worked for a percentage, after all. Ferahr had also delivered a message from El Dorado Drift; Kaveh Hamayouni had already arrived, he said, and will be waiting for Tyr in the Haukin Vora spaceport.
Tyr piloted the Maru steadily over the other planet of the System – a small and deadly world named Haukin Venya, torn and shaken by violent volcanic explosions, rather like Jupiter's moon Io, just a lot bigger. People paid large sums for tours to see this spectacle from close proximity; something Tyr would never understand. For him, Haukin Venya was a place to avoid at any costs: life threatening and completely useless. Unlike Rev Bem, he could find no beauty in things that would kill him with or without intention.
Haukin Vora, on the other hand, was an acceptable planet to live on. A bit harsh, perhaps, but even unmodified humans could survive there without considerable difficulties. From its size, it was slightly bigger than Earth; its gravity 0.2 grades higher – nothing to worry about. The entire planet was one large tundra, save the thin equatorial area, where the main cities had been built – the spaceport one of them. For Nietzscheans, bred and engineered to live under harsh conditions, it was a paradise – no wonder the remaining Völsung had chosen to live there.
The majority of the population – sixty-eight per cent in fact – were Inari, but Perseids, Than, Chichin and various other subspecies of humans could also be found here. Nietzscheans were a small minority, barely two per cent, most of them belonging to a cadet branch of Mandau Pride. One had to give the Mandau some credit; what they lacked in genetic quality, they certainly made up in sheer numbers. And since they were slavers and mercenaries, it gave them a level of influence they actually didn't quite earned.
After a short argument with the Inari dockmaster – a short and rather pointless one, since Tyr had to pay the demanded fee anyway, he just didn't want to give in too easily – he secured the Maru and found Dr. Hamayouni waiting for him in the port lounge. This time, the older man was wearing a more Nietzschean-like outfit of dark brown leather and looked more respectable than he had back on El Dorado Drift. This time, they would be among their own.
"You made good time," the doctor said, as they exchanged the traditional greeting. "So, let's not waste any of it; I've got an aircar waiting outside the port." Tyr raised an eyebrow, impressed, but Hamayouni just shrugged. "Our people live in the outskirts of the city. And the aircar belongs to us anyway. We're not entirely penniless, you know. The Pride had… interests outside the Castalian system, which could be salvaged. All that once belonged to an entire people, is now at our disposal."
Tyr filed away that important bit of information for further use, as they walked out of the port to the parking area, where a four-seat aircar was, indeed, waiting for them, complete with driver. Kaveh introduced the very young male – barely mature enough biologically to procreate, and certainly not respected enough to find a wife, even if he weren't Beta material – as Angus Savitar, out of Elatha by Malcolm, one of the young people who had been rescued from the Aerie Orbital Habitat as babies.
The youngling offered Tyr a respectful greeting, staring at the powerful Alpha with the eyes of a stunned child who had just witnessed the second coming of Drago Museveni. Growing up in a small group of widows and weak Betas, he'd probably never seen anyone of the Kodiak's size and charisma. Tyr accepted the greeting with a nod, without bothering to introduce himself; they all ought to know by now who he was.
They got in the aircar and lifted off. Angus turned out a good driver for someone this young – despite the rather busy traffic, he maneuvered them through the criss-crossing flight paths with a steady hand, even though the local Than seemed to like kamikaze-style flying. Tyr's appreciation for the boy went up several notches. Beta or not, the kid wasn't completely useless. Those were good reflexes that were shown – with proper training, Angus would be able to stand his man in a fight.
It took them about twenty minutes to reach one of the outer areas, where various Nietzschean clans had their fortified family estates. Angus parked the car in front of one such estate: a three-story house, protected by a high stone wall – and, most likely, by a sensor perimeter along it as well. The boy opened the front gate with the help of his code card, and they found themselves in a large courtyard divided into different training areas. At certain points of the wall well-placed protective weapons could be seen, and Tyr nodded in appreciation. A bunch of Betas the Völsung might have been, but they obviously were willing to defend their home against anyone or anything.
Two guards stepped forth to greet them, and Tyr blinked in confusion, fearing that something might be wrong with his eyes, causing him to see doubly. Then, after blinking a few more times, he realized what had caused his confusion.
The guards were twins, identical in everything from their smooth, bronze skin and waist-long, shiny ink-black hair through oval faces, almond eyes and long, slender limbs down to their leather and metal outfit and elegantly shaped, gleaming forearm spikes. They were androgynously beautiful, yet the way they moved revealed that they were also quick and deadly. There was no weakness in them, as one could find no weakness in a pair of slender, razor-sharp daggers, despite their size.
And yet one of them was male, the other female. Tyr needed a moment to decide which was which, for the breasts of the female warrior were small and flat, all softness trained ruthlessly away long ago, and the leather pants of her brother revealed similarly diminutive dimensions in other important areas.
There was something strange about them, something eerie, something Tyr couldn't quite put his finger on. As if they'd guarded some sort of dark secret everyone knew but no one would be willing to speak of. They glanced at each other shortly, and Tyr had the strange impression that they were actually exchanging thoughts – which was impossible. Nietzscheans were not a telepathic race.
"At least not usually," the female warrior said, a voice indistinguishable from that of her brother who had just spoken the traditional greeting. "I'm sure Kaveh will explain it all to you. Welcome to the home of Völsung Pride – or what's left of it. Follow me. The Matriarchs are awaiting you."
Contrary to common belief, no Nietzschean Pride was ruled by one Matriarch. Every bloodline, as various branches were divided, had its own Matriarch, and they made the important decisions together. Consensus, if not always necessary, was usually preferred, although the ranking Matriarch – the one of the oldest, strongest and most respected bloodline – had the final vote.
"How many of your Matriarchs survived?" Tyr asked Kaveh; he felt a little… uncomfortable addressing the twins directly. They were an unknown factor; he needed to learn more about them.
"Two," the doctor replied. "Andraste, of course, and Parvati. The third line accepted Nemhain as their Matriarch, although she's technically still too young. But she is a respected widow with a grown son, and she raised two orphaned boys aside from her own."
Tyr nodded in appreciation. Obviously, the Völsung made good choices after the destruction of their old home, even without the leadership of an Alpha. Nevertheless, they would need an Alpha, if they wanted to be accepted in Nietzschean society again. And to father the children of their fertile women.
He glanced at the twins briefly again. They didn't wear the traditional mark, at least not visibly, but their demeanour had the subtle traits of Omega warriors – an extremely rare position in these corrupted times, when serving one's Pride unconditionally had long ceased to be a desirable and respected task. Maybe if he managed to rebuild Kodiak Pride, some of the time-honoured traditions would come back to life again.
Omega warriors were – or, to be more accurate, had been, since they became almost extinct after the fall of the Commonwealth – the Nietzschean equivalent of the Sacred Band of Thebes, in Ancient Greece, on Earth. With a considerable twist, of course. They were infertile warriors, mostly, but not exclusively, male ones, bonded to their Pride Alpha, both by oath and sexually. They gave up their personal rights completely, dedicated their loves to the protection of their Pride, and usually, but not necessarily, had a secondary bond to one of their fellow warriors. Again, usually, but not necessarily, to one of their own gender, as females were exceedingly rare among them.
Hey needed this dual bond, as their existence was a lonely one. They had no rank, no position, no family – just a purpose. They stood on the lowest level of their Pride – they only existed to protect the Pride and to serve their Pride Alpha, to whom they were more than lovers – and less than slaves.
And yet they had been highly respected for this position, which they had chosen voluntarily. Low their status might have been, it also had been unique. Although infertile males, otherwise considered as worthless, they had been highly valued by their Pride Alpha, and became part of his household.
"Who are they?" Tyr asked, glancing after the twins, who were already moving towards the inside of the house, their movements smooth, elegant, identical. "Or better, what are they?"
"The result of a genetic experiment gone terribly wrong," Kaveh replied grimly. "Near the end of our war with the Castalians, our losses were so high that Andraste ordered our best geneticists to stimulate twin births by splitting fertilized ova artificially. We hired a Perseid researcher who was said to be the best in this area. Unfortunately, the results were… less than satisfactory. The children either ended up as hermaphrodites and died soon after birth, or, in the case of Arjuna and Amritray, the male child had an additional X chromosome and the female one an additional Y chromosome, making them infertile and androgynous."
Tyr frowned. "How is that possible?"
"I'm not quite sure," Kaveh shrugged. "I was a very young researcher back then and had no part in this experiment. They say the Perseid kept his cards pretty close to his chest anyway. They also say that the other Matriarchs protested against this thing from the beginning, but Andraste and Parvati insisted on going through the whole process. They saw it as our last, best hope. I don't know if it's true, though. I'm just a Beta; I have no right to question them. You can do it – if you choose so."
"Perhaps I will," Tyr said noncommittally. "Can you get me more details about the experiment?" What incompetent fools might have been the Völsung geneticists to damage excellent genetic material like this!
"I can try," Kaveh didn't seem very convinced. "But be careful when dealing with the Matriarchs."
They entered the atrium of the house through a short corridor. Traditionally, the life of a planet-bound Nietzschean clan – which the shards of Völsung Pride had become – was centered in the atrium: a sparsely furnitured, airy room, from which various doors led to the other parts of the house. This one was no exception, save perhaps its artistic value few Nietzschean homes displayed in these days. Even less so the ones in exile.
Tyr looked at the pathetic remains of his people with a strange mix of rage and pity. Out of 75,000, only a handful has survived; he could see about a dozen of them. He knew they would need his guidance and protection – he was an Alpha, and they had none. But he was also the last of the Kodiak, with an Orca wife – the irony was surely not lost on the three Matriarchs who were now looking at him with wary interest.
Andraste, the First Matriarch, alive by some sort of miracle (although not unharmed, if her deeply scarred face was any indication), was a tall, imposing woman of considerable age. She must have been in her mid-nineties, at the very least, but showed no sign of weakness. She had the same dark skin and amber eyes as Tyr himself, being related, however remotely, to Tyr's maternal grandfather, Boëthius, and she used to have a reputation of being completely ruthless. That was fine with Tyr, since so was he. Her dark, elegant face wore deep scars and burn marks, the vivid reminders of the inferno she had miraculously survived when the orbital platform of Völsung Pride had been destroyed.
On her side, another elderly woman sat, this one of apparent Indian origins, just like the twins. She wore a traditional sari wrapped around her voluptuous body and gilded bracers to protect her forearm spikes that were ivory-coloured from age. Her iron-grey hair was twisted into a knot on the nape of her neck, and there was a red mark between her brows. Second Matriarch Parvati, then.
There was a tall, walkyrie-like woman with greying red hair, sitting a little aside. Middle-aged, with green, intelligent eyes and a round, freckled face. Nemhain, most likely, the widow with the son and the other two boys she had fostered. The one still too young to be a Matriarch, but accepted nevertheless, out of sheer need. It seemed to be a good choice, though. She looked like she could have made her mythological namesake proud.
A couple of elderly males and very young boys were sitting in the background, half-hidden in the shadows. Probably concerned Betas who didn't want to pick a fight with the big, hulking Alpha visiting their home.
As Tyr entered the atrium in Kaveh's company (the twins placed themselves on both sides of the door), the Matriarchs rose from their seats. Tyr bowed in an emphatically ceremonial manner, yet not too low. Technically, even as an Alpha without a Pride, he still stood higher than a bunch of widows and scattered Betas.
"I offer you my respect, venerable Matriarchs," he said in the most formal manner, to signalize the serenity of his intents. "I have been looking for you for a long time and am now content that my long search had not gone without fruition."
Andraste raised and eyebrow, but her scarred face remained carefully blank while eyeing Tyr's face with suspicion.
"Who are you?" She asked in a deep, cold voice. "How have you found us and what do you want from us?"
Those were ritual words, of course, as Andraste had known Tyr's identity for years, even though she chose not to acknowledge it. When a prideless Alpha wanted to claim a Pride that had no male leader, he had to prove his worth to the Matriarchs – who usually didn't make it easy for him.
"I'm Tyr Anasazi, out of Victoria by Barbarossa, the last of Kodiak Prideandhusband toFreya Cree," Tyr answered calmly. He wished he had children already, to prove his fertility, but that was still months away. "I found you by having a human… acquaintance break into the secret archives of the Castalian government and tracing down your escape route. And I'm here to offer you – all of you – an alliance."
"I assume you can prove your identity," Andraste said. Tyr nodded.
"Of course. A simple genetic test would, no doubt, prove that I am, indeed, whom I pretend to be. Kaveh can give you the proof. I have nothing to hide from my own people… well, almost nothing," he added with a wolfish grin. The Matriarch gave him a cold smile.
"We'll see. I prefer to do my own investigations. And what kind of alliance are you offering – assuming, of course, that you are who you say your are."
"I'm about to re-claim my birthright," Tyr answered slowly, carefully, not wanting to lay all his cards openly on the table just yet. "I'm working on rebuilding Kodiak Pride, as the first step. So far, I only have one wife and no child yet, but I'm an Alpha. You might not be Kodiak, but you are the closest thing I can ever hope to find. I offer you the chance to join the new Kodiak Pride."
"And why would we want to do that?" the Matriarch replied coldly. "You are but one man, living among kludges. We are twenty-twp people still. If anything, you should join Völsung Pride."
"Völsung Pride doesn't exist," Tyr said bluntly. "You don't have an Alpha; you don't even have any fertile adult males left, not even Betas. It would take a decade for your youngsters to grow strong enough to lead – if ever. But you have three fertile females in the best age of childbearing, or so that healer of yours says. If they choose me as their husband, we'd become a small but strong Pride in that decade."
"If you are such a prize, how come that you are still not a father?" Parvati, the Second Matriarch, asked with deceiving softness. Tyr shrugged.
"My First Wife is currently pregnant," he replied, "but even a Kodiak child needs the usual time of gestation. I'll be a father in a few months. And I've been offered an alliance by Sabran Alpha Ezekial El-Hakim, the leader of the Centauris A colony, by the hand of his daughter, Mikaelan. I'm no beggar on your doorstep – I have more to offer than just my genes, excellent though they might be."
The three Matriarchs exchanged meaningful looks. Getting allied with the last of the ruling family of Kodiak Pride was one thing. Getting allied with the powerful and respected Sabran cadet line on Centauris A, however indirectly, a different one.
"What do you think, Nemhain?" Andraste asked.
The red-haired walkyrie hesitated for a moment; then she shrugged.
"He is right, you know," she said. "The oldest fertile male among us is Ferdiad – my son," she added for Tyr who couldn't know that, "and even he is barely more than a child. If our young females choose husbands from other Prides, Völsung Pride will cease to exist."
"So will it when we merge with Kodiak Pride willingly," Andraste pointed out. "What's the difference?"
"The fact that we come from Kodiak Pride," Nemhain replied simply. "Returning to our origins is not the same as giving up our identity. Not in my eyes. But you are the First Matriarch; the decision is yours. I'll follow you, and so will the boys, whatever path you choose. As for our young females… I cannot tell." She gave Tyr an appreciating look. "If his genes are as excellent as his looks, they couldn't find anyone better suited. They might choose him above you."
That was all too true, and they knew that – all of them. Nietzschean women always tried to find a male with the best genetic value to father their children. If said male was of a good bloodline and of good looks, that was an added bonus. Excellent survival skills were another one. Tyr knew he could offer all that – and more. His reputation spoke for itself; so would his genes. He was confident about not only catching the young women's eye but to persuade the Matriarch of his genetic value. Which was the complicated part of the business, of course.
Andraste glanced at one of the men sitting in the background – a greying, dark-skinned man who bore a striking resemblance to her.
"Speak your mind, Amfortas. You used to be our Pride Alpha."
The man, almost as big as Tyr himself, but missing a leg and obviously having difficulties using one of his hands, shook his head bitterly.
"I'm nothing but a crippled old man, mother. I have no right to speak for our Pride any longer. Nor do I want to interfere with your decisions."
Andraste seemed affronted by this rejection, but before she could have said anything, another man rose from his seat. He was somewhat younger and obviously from the Indian bloodline: less heavily muscled, but still strong and limber, his dark, almond eyes gleaming with annoyance.
"It is I whom you should have asked for opinions, First Matriarch," he said in a deceivingly soft voice. "Just a Beta I might be, but right now, I'm the only husband and father in what is left of Völsung Pride."
"You forget your place, Shakuni," Parvati warned him sternly. But the man didn't back off.
"On the contrary, my lady, I think I'm just about to find my right place," he replied. "You have shunned me long enough," Then, turning to Tyr, he said. "I cannot speak for the rest of my bloodline, but for my part, I would gladly join the new Kodiak Pride, with my wife and my sons."
"And who, exactly, would you be?" Tyr asked. The Beta's mannerism spoke of a skilled warrior, but there was obviously more to him than just weapons skills.
"I'm Shakuni," the Beta answered. "Shakuni Mohasai, out of Draupadí by Laksmana. Husband to Indira, father of Ravana and Drupada. I used to be the chief assassin of Völsung Pride. In the exile, I've become a scholar and a philosopher, although I still help training our youth."
"The chief assassin of the Pride? A Beta?" Tyr, having close knowledge about the requirements of an assassination job, was more than a little surprised.
Shakuni shrugged. "My genetic value is barely behind hat of an Alpha… and I've worked very hard on my skills. Besides, a mere Beta is always less suspicious – which can come handy in my job, as you doubtlessly know. I've heard of you, Tyr Anasazi. I know what you are capable of. It would be an honour to be allied to you."
"I accept your offer," Tyr said, "although I would prefer not to tear the rest of the Pride apart. But that decision is not mine to make."
The matriarchs exchanged concerned looks. They knew, others might follow the former assassin's lead – the decision could easily slip from their hands. The Pride couldn't remain without an Alpha forever. Even if they rejected Tyr's claim, sooner or later they'd have to accept someone, or else their bloodline would degenerate way below Beta material.
"Show us the proof," Andraste ordered Kaveh in a regal manner, the purpose of which was most likely to hide her anxiety. "We'll hold council about this among ourselves."
Kaveh handed her the results of Tyr's recent genetic test, and the three Matriarchs left the atrium. Tyr looked after them with a frown.
"They don't seem too receptive, do they?" he asked the Völsung doctor.
Kaveh shrugged. "It went better than I accepted, actually. Be patient. This situation requires a great deal of adjustment from their side. They are used to lead. Now you're asking them to accept your leadership, for the good of our people. This is about stepping down from one's power – and that is never an easy step."
TBC
