Although Moura had suggested G'ny take one of the junior weyrwoman weyrs, G'ny had fallen asleep nestled between Saleneth's forearms, the sweet, spicy scent of her dragon providing her with comfort in the chaos she found herself. The warmth of the Sands prevented the aches and pains she would have otherwise experienced from sleeping in such a funny position. The conspirators had all arisen early and casually took seats of prominence towards the head of the room. Their dragons tracked down and brought up to speed the other half of the Wingleaders, who had been absent the night before. C'lin plopped down with a mighty thud, his oversized mug of klah almost spilling onto Moura.
"What's with keeping ol' C'lin in the dark about your plan?" He demanded jovially.
"Probably wanted to make my absence less obvious?" L'can joined the end farthest from G'ny with reserve.
"Nah, Saleneth probably just thought it imprudent to interrupt your, erm, accompaniment of that Headwoman from Pars Hold home, you know, the one whose son impressed yesterday?" M'tou derided him.
"She's home indeed, safe and sound, and without complaint." C'lin assured the group to no one's interest in particular. So the morning went on in slightly awkward anticipation of the big announcement the four of them were about to stage. Finally, after almost an hour of stalling, Moura quickly gestured for the table's attention and pointed to the newest arrival to the Dining Hall. Allika had decided to stroll in, nightdress askew, now that the better part of most breakfasts had been consumed. She squinted around for the Weyrleader who had the audacity to make her fetch her own breakfast. She had no sooner spotted and begun homing in on L'can when she became aware of the company with which he sat. Especially as Moura rose to make her move.
"Allika, High Reaches Weyr, good morning," Moura began. The room fell silent.
"Weyrwoman, Moura–" Allika began. Moura waved a hand to silence her.
"The time has come for someone to say something. I have been remiss in allowing you to carry on as you have, wreaking what you have on this Weyr. Your mismanagement has made Azirith feel more youthful than she has in years. That's right, I promise you, by the end of the next fortnight, Azirith will rise. She and I are by far the senior queen pair, and we will take the responsibility that is rightfully ours, and never should have been relinquished."
"Weyrwoman, you are only putting off the inevitable. There is no queen but mine to rise. At her age, Azirith will not be clutching anymore queens. I'm the only chance this Weyr's got at survival!"
"Your entitlement is unbecoming of a Weyrwoman. Fine, we shall wait until Azirith's clutch hatches. Be there a queen, and she and I will step down only once that queen can pose some competition. Even so, there is another queen in this Weyr." Whispered gasps broke out around the room. "You all know of whom I speak. Many a time she commanded you like only a queen could. You have felt it. Her name is on your tongues."
"Saleneth." The admission started quietly at first until it grew in confidence. "Saleneth!" The Weyr cheered.
"That's right. In my restored position, I declare that Saleneth is eligible for the next queen's mating flight, and G'ny is more than qualified to run this Weyr in all the ways you have not."
"She's a green. She's chewed firestone. I watched. How can an infertile, inferior color ever lead this Weyr?" Allika demanded. Bellows could be heard in the Weyrbowl beyond from the insulted dragons.
"Well, that's where you are wrong. By some miracle, Saleneth is now on the Hatching Grounds with seven eggs of her own. Ask your dragon, she knows." The sound of a handful of chairs scraping back could be heard as boots pounded out towards the Hatching Grounds to confirm this news.
"Impossible," the belligerent woman hissed, then her eyes unfocused as she confirmed with Mirith.
"It's true!" The first two riders to return back from the Hatching Sands announced, panting.
"A queen you say? She'll never rise before Mirith. As it is she's stuck on the Sands. And neither will any pipsqueak of an egg!" Allika exploded with bile. More bellowing could be heard outside as the dragons reacted to this upset. There was truth beyond the venom. Even with Saleneth's apparently shorter mating periods, she was certainly at a disadvantage having just laid a clutch. This was a dangerous gamble the Weyrwoman was playing. Saleneth, give me strength and aid, G'ny pleaded. Always, her companion reassured her. G'ny rose to address the hall.
"Thank you, Weyrwoman, for your faith in me. If you, my Weyr, accept this proposal, I accept the honor. If it comes to pass that Saleneth rises when you officially declare Azirith's last flight and it is meant to be, I will take on the mantle of Weyrwoman to the best of my abilities." She could feel Saleneth impressing her faith in her rider on the other dragons of the Weyr.
"Here, here!" A cry resounded throughout the Hall and loud applause broke out. Riders of all colors came up to G'ny to offer hugs of support. Congratulations and expressions of, "We've missed you, lass," were common. She even heard one rider shout out, "And the food has certainly been better since you've been back already!" G'ny was sure her face must be bright red from all the attention. She wished T'mir could see her in this moment.
Sure enough, eight days later, Azirith made good on Moura's promise and rose. G'ny went to accompany the love of her life, who was stuck on the Hatching Grounds. She also thought of B'ran and tried to imagine what she would tell him about this turn of events. They both prided duty. They both would never truly abandon the call of the Weyr that gave each their start. Would you like me to contact Saneth? Saleneth offered. Yes, they both deserve to know. G'ny assented.
You know, it's so boring, watching these eggs.
Careful, here they are calling you a queen, but your green is showing. I have read many times over that greens are not as maternal.
I am what I am. Mirith says she would be happy to take a watch over the eggs now and then. You and I could fly together again. It's only been nine days and my wings itch like crazy to stretch out.
Well, if she doesn't mind and Allika would let her, I wouldn't mind some flight time with you at all. G'ny's heart leapt at the idea, really. Just then, the doors from the Bowl entrance opened, allowing in a breeze and the familiar figure of a tall, square-shouldered man ran in.
"B'ran!" G'ny cried out, running to meet him.
"G'ny, why didn't you tell me sooner? You know how I would do anything to be at your side when it matters most!" B'ran demanded of her, concern, pride, and need all shining in his eyes.
"It all has just happened so fast. We hardly knew what was going on! And there has been so much to get back in order since I returned. You should have seen the place!" G'ny blubbered.
"Well, I'm here now." He said, embracing her with his comforting arms. She looked up into his eyes as their lips searched for and met each other. Both were keenly aware of the effects of the ongoing mating flight. Their feet guided them to spots of less unrelenting heat as they stripped off one another's clothes. At the edge of the Hatching Grounds, where the sand was just warm enough to be comfortable, the High Reaches and Igen riders united in the passionate aura that permeated the Weyr.
That night, the intoxication of the mating flight over, B'ran lay troubled next to G'ny in the junior queenrider's weyr she had made her temporary occupancy. G'ny knew something was wrong. At last he spoke. "Do you think Saleneth will beat Mirith to rise after Azirith steps down?" He asked, propped up on a shoulder, looking deep into her eyes.
"I don't know." G'ny admitted. She had a suspicion where this conversation was going.
"If Saleneth rises here in competition for the senior queen spot, I can't see how we have a future together. There is no way Saneth could compete with any of these High Reaches bronzes. And I couldn't bear the thought of you with another man. Call it my Holder upbringing, which you of all people should understand."
"I do understand. I can't help but hope some miracle will make neither Allika for the sake of the Weyr, nor me for the sake of us, the Weyrwoman."
"Miracle? And what might that look like?" B'ran asked miserably.
"I guess... Moura would have to hold onto her title until another queen is ready to fly."
"And with that not yet apparent, it's a long shot. I sure hope we can make it that long."
G'ny sat up and kissed B'ran's troubled brow. "I sure hope so too. But I also think if it came down to it, Saneth could be a serious contender in such a flight." B'ran shifted to kiss her back at this issue he thought moot. She pulled away after a bit to add, "And with your compassion and initiative, I think you would make a great Weyrleader," before snuggling down into the covers, tickling him lightly to elicit a small laugh that preempted his protest.
M'tou's Calleth was the presumptive victor of the contest of the before, making M'tou the Weyrleader apparent. Despite the many years of T'tor's companionship with Moura, the events of late had precipitated quite a shakeup in Weyr leadership. Many were excited for M'tou's ascension, as rumors of his fit for the position had been flying since before G'ny had even arrived at the Weyr. B'ran had taken his leave in the early hours of the morning so as to get back a full day at Igen, so G'ny continued the morning in solitude, thoughtfully sipping klah in her new weyr, relieved that order had been restored to her home. With her queen's return flight so imminent, Moura stepped up her command of the Weyr. Right away, Moura had insisted that G'ny settle into a queenriders' weyr down on one of the Lower Levels not only so that she could have proximate living quarters to Saleneth while she was on the Sands, but also because, as Moura emphasized, they were fitting for a rider of her status. Moura had also slipped her some golden thread and instructed her to redo her riding knots. Partial to the green that had always adorned her shoulder, G'ny kept a few strands of the color in the knot out of nostalgia.
G'ny was just finishing the last swing of her mug when she almost choked in surprise. Saleneth had alighted onto the ledge of the weyr. Good morning, she mentally greeted with an audible trill. What are you doing here? You have eggs to guard! G'ny spluttered in response. Mirith's got them covered, was the response. Indeed. Tending eggs is something I actually do well, go enjoy yourselves, cut in Mirith's now familiar voice. Saleneth butted G'ny gently with her head to spur her to action. With a laugh, G'ny climbed up to her spot on Saleneth's back without even putting on a riding harness. It would just be the two of them, with G'ny clinging tightly with her thighs and to the neck ridge in which she could find some purchase. T'mir would be so upset right now at her recklessness.
Saleneth took the ascent cautiously, knowing well the precarious position of her rider. The two glided back and forth from one end of the Bowl to another. A few dragons eyed them curiously as they passed overhead. Then they extended their path outward beyond the circumference of the Bowl. G'ny deeply breathed in the fresh air, tinged with the smell of the treetops below, and savored the feeling of the wind in her hair. Her joy could hardly match that of Saleneth, whose muscles she could feel stretch satisfactorily beneath and within her. This was the state she was meant to be in. All of her worries about the future – about B'ran, about the possibility of becoming Weyrwoman, of Allika – everything, melted away. G'ny let her mind clear into a meditative state so that she was just aware of her dragon and her surroundings. Even her own body was irrelevant to the experience. This flight was exactly what they both needed in that moment.
G'ny and Saleneth checked in on the Hatching Sands when they returned to the Weyr. Saleneth's reluctance to be anchored down again was palatable. G'ny went up to Mirith and rubbed her eye ridges in thanks. The large golden head turned toward her, eyes whirring green with content. I envy the two of you, you know. The way you fly together so happily. I feel like I can hardly get off the ground, and Allika is basically afraid of heights. It makes me happy to be here, doing something useful. That's what I meant when I said this is something I actually do well, the queen confided in her. Oh, G'ny replied, rather speechless, well, we certainly appreciate it, thank you. Mirith began again, you know, it's a bit early to tell, but I think one of these, this one here, might be a queen egg. Saleneth edged in to give the indicated egg as sniff. She rumbled in approval and Mirith joined in with her.
From that morning on, the three of them established a routine in which Mirith spent most of the time with the eggs on the Sands, leaving G'ny and Saleneth to more routine tasks throughout and beyond the Weyr. G'ny couldn't fathom what Allika might be up to, although she had a vague idea the woman was leveraging her time with child to be waited upon. With this increased interaction, G'ny took a special interest in Mirith. The golden dragon was far larger than Saleneth. In proper form, she probably could be significantly more prolific than she had previously demonstrated. G'ny made up her mind. During some of Saleneth's time on the Sands, G'ny would take Mirith out. She needed to exercise more, to fly and stretch her wings. That had to be a factor in her small clutch size. It wasn't until Mirith had reached out about G'ny and Saleneth flying together that G'ny had given the queen's workout routine much thought. It was strange, flying with and directing a dragon who was not truly hers, but upon reflection she realized that she and Mirith had always been open to a bond of sorts with each other. Moura approved of this plan when G'ny ran it by her and, of course, G'ny and Saleneth stayed close to the Weyr as the time for the eggs to hatch approached.
Moura was warmer towards G'ny than she had ever been. Moura would often schedule her to shadow her in checking over ledgers and making decisions about how to supply the Weyr. Sometimes Moura would quiz her in a way that made it seem like they were both learning the proper way to run the Weyr. Moura was completely open-minded to suggestions G'ny posed. G'ny appreciated her Weyrwoman's collaborative approach. It was as if she was making up for the time she had sunk into Allika to the exclusion of G'ny. With the manifest support of the Weyr for G'ny to be a Weyrwoman candidate, she supposed Moura was now trying to groom her, or at least catch her up to speed for the role.