Who: Aerishani, Rori, Amorenth, Inaskashath
When: Month 5, 202 AT
Where: Lake, Honshu Weyrhold
What: What Amorenth takes pride in, she does not like in her daughter(s).

Inaskashath’s wounds have finally healed, though her body will forever show the scars her green sibling gave her and her mobility may be a source of trouble as she continues to grow and work around the stiffness the scars bring her. She and Rori are finally able to take part in most of the weyrling classes, however there are times that she and her young gold have to take extra guidance from Nala and Aislara. With the additional stress upon the pair, Inaskashath has required more and more guidance from her mother – and Honshu’s senior gold – on how to keep her control when she’d rather lash out in anger, or frustration, and not //care// whom may be targeted by her mental axes. The young gold is lounging in the sunshine near Honshu’s lake, her tail idly tap-tap-tapping in irritation as Rori tries to coax her into the water for a swim and a bath. << I do not want it, it’s too cold, >> she broadcasts, near-shouting her displeasure at her rider, << You may go in but I will not! >>

<< Between is colder, so you will go in, girl. >> Amorenth’s command has none of the weight of her colour that she might throw behind it, no hint of coercion to be found, yet it is clear that she expects to be obeyed. << No daughter of mine will broadcast her weaknesses and cause such a scene. Do as she asks of you. You chose her. Respect her. >> From a higher perch, she drifts down towards the lake and lands at the shore, arching her wings high before folding them back. From the opposite direction, Aerishani strolls towards the water from the way of Honshu’s records room, her dress not any longer quite able to conceal that she’ll surely be welcoming a son or daughter of her own within the year. “She has her dam’s stubbornness,” she remarks to Rori. “Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit her arrogance too.” For that, Amorenth has a near silent snort.

Inaskashath may have her rebellious streak with her rider – and the fact that Amorenth does not have to coerce her is evidence of the younger gold’s respect for her dam. She lets slip a mental sigh as she drops her axes in defeat into the cold soil of a winter’s day before she slides into the water to sulk beneath the waves. Rori watches Amorenth’s approach with relief, moving close enough to bow to the senior gold. “Thank you, Amorenth. She is learning. I think spending time with Akanyth has taught her to try and… say no and throw a tantrum in order to see what someone might do about it.” She turns to look at Aerishani, a friendly smile blooming on her face. She’s lost weight since she’s Impressed, her clothes hang, where Aerishani’s blossom outward. “I’m not sure if Inaskashath has arrogance in the usual way. She is proud, which can be used against her most days. I was telling Amorenth I think Akanyth’s tantrums are giving the others bad ideas of what to try.” She offers a curtsey and then a salute to Aerishani in afterthought, blushing at her slip. “Thank you for checking in on us, Weyrwoman.”

Amorenth acknowledges Rori’s bow to her as little more than her due, her focus drifting between the rider her errant daughter has chosen and the younger queen herself as she settles down and curls her tail close to her side. While Aerishani’s response is not unkind, she does arch a brow in gentle chastisement as she replies, “I don’t think disparaging your classmates publically is so wise a choice. You’ll be their weyrlady someday and speaking ill of your riders will very quickly lose you the trust others will place in you.” She looks Rori up and down, her head tilting slightly. “Blaming others for the behaviour of our lifemates is a luxury none of us truly have.” A Harper she may be, yet there’s not enough will within her for artful deceit or dancing around issues to keep her from remarking, “You’re not eating.”

Rori blushes and immediately looks down at the chastisement Aerishani gives her in regards to speaking ill of Akanyth, and by extension, his rider. Inaskashath remains in the water, despite her pull to go and comfort her rider. She reaches a tendril of thought towards her dam, << Is it so hard to be gold? >> she asks, << I understand my actions have ripples. But why does it matter differently than the others? >> Rori keeps her eyes downcast even as Aerishani poses that remark. Showing her youth, she sullenly gives a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m eating,” she murmurs, knowing a response of some kind is needed. She shifts her feet and clasps her hands in front of her, moving from gazing at the ground to tipping her gaze towards the water and her young gold.

<< You have more power than they do and always will. You have the potential to hurt with a stray thought. >> And yet Amorenth makes it sound as if these are not bad things at all. << What do I care for how others think of me? But Honshu is mine and //she//, >> Aerishani, << is mine and no-one but me may hurt them. To have power is to not need to exploit it. Yours is chaotic. You must learn order. >> Aerishani knots her arms beneath her chest and supposes, “Not so different from each other, are you?” as Rori sulks. “I wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a lifemate so similar, but I know that someone always needs to be the one who looks out for you both. Sometimes, that’s me. At other times, it’s Amorenth making sure I don’t do anything silly.” Glancing between Rori and Inaskashath, she admits, “I’m not sure that either of you are doing that for each other right now. I understand that you’ve had a difficult start, but I think it’s time you focused more on each other and less on the people who’ve had to interfere so far.”

The young gold pulls herself out of the water, shaking her wings out and letting her body shiver in a rapid fashion to dispel most of the lingering water droplets. She places her wings back against her scarred body and meanders her way up the beach to be closer to Rori. Her thoughts sharpen, honing like the edge of a well-used hunting axe. << I will learn what I need to learn, as you say, but sometimes it would be nice to use my power to make someone else behave. >> She may be talking of her rider – or, from the glimmer of thought that surfaces, another one of her draconic siblings. Rori lifts her gaze to Aerishani’s once more, biting the inside of her lower lip to keep from blurting out the thoughts that tighten the corner of her eyes. “We don’t use her injury to gain favor,” she manages to say, “despite what some people think. We’ve done our best to be the gold pair we need to be. I didn’t //ask// her to pick me. I didn’t //want// to be in charge of everyone.”

Aerishani actually laughs, unable to keep the bubble of absurd amusement from escaping, the sound bright enough that she can’t be mocking Rori. “And you think that I did? I came here to tutor a queenrider and ended up as her Weyrlady. But the fact is that golds don’t choose women who can’t handle what their status means for them.” She looks up at Amorenth right as a whirl of orange ripples through her lifemate’s gaze, her eyes narrowing as she meets whatever has prompted it head on. “Unfortunately for the two of you, even your Impression is tainted by pain. It’s understandable that it would make you miserable. To that end, it might be worth seeing a mindhealer to work through that before you can really move on.” Amorenth is far more blunt, declaring that, << I will not tolerate my juniors manipulating my dragons, >> with a gathering of voices, as if to draw together all of the souls within Honshu that belong to //her//.

“I don’t need a mindhealer,” Rori clarifies with Aerishani, something sharp coming into her gaze before it disappears with a blink and a sigh. “We’re not miserable,” she continues, moving a step or two back so she can curl her arm about Inaskashath’s golden neck as Amorenth’s bluntness cows the younger gold. The two confer with one another and soothe each other’s resentments into a smaller space, Inaskashath tucking hers into a tiny portion of her mind, Rori avoiding feelings she may be harboring. “Yes ma’am, we’ll show you we’re not resentful of our position. We’ll do right by our Weyr.” Inaskashath sends an apologetic tendril towards Amorenth, a small, ruby jewel offered in the sea of blackness. << They are yours. I will not touch them. >>

Moments pass as Aerishani does nothing but watch the youngest of Amorenth’s daughters and her rider, her expression mostly nicely neutral and unreadable – at least for anything that might be too judgemental. “It’s funny,” she says quietly, her expression softening just a touch, “but I don’t believe you. There’s no shame in hurting. What there is shame in, or I suppose is just a shame, is being so determined to be not miserable that you prefer to find fault with others.” She unknots her arms and smoothes her skirts down over the bump that is surely too prominent for however many months along she supposedly is. “If you don’t want to talks, that’s okay with me. It just doesn’t mean I’ll stop waiting for the time when you do.” As she turns away and moves off down the shore, back the way she came, Amorenth lifts herself up to follow after her, letting that ruby roll through a chink in the silver barrier that protects her. << And none will touch you. >> Maybe it’s meant to be comforting, yet, from Amorenth… very little sounds so.

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