Who: Jet and Isolwyn
When: Month 12, 204 AT
Where: Isolwyn’s Weyr
What: Jet visits Isolwyn to find out exactly what went on.
She hadn’t wanted to leave the baby or truly risk getting herself into a situation that she might have to fight her way out of, her body still sluggish to respond after what had been a long and hard labour, but she had promises to keep and bronzeriders to dispatch before they seized power if half of her suspicions were correct.
To get inside Fort was an easy thing – far easier than expected, and something she felt she ought to flag up, were the Weyr to ever be of real use to them – Kyramith left beyond and a blink Between away. Her lifemate did better Betweening on her own and on instinct than she did with her assistance as it was; if anything, she was a hindrance to any attempt at a quick escape. Besides, half the place was too distracted by the pull of their soon to be Senior queen to pay much attention to her presence, the flock of visiting bronzes a much more obvious and intrusive one. The very idea made her sick.
Upon finding the goldrider’s weyr, she waited. She had time. It was no use stalking her through corridors and never getting to speak with her without an audience, with no hope of getting the truth, before she went to finish what she had come here to do.
She didn’t have long to wait, for the one she knew to be Isolwyn arrived not fifteen minutes later, flushed from something or other – or simply the effect of the desires her queen was inadvertently slipping into the minds of all around her. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t look like a woman who had almost been… But then she knew that there was much more to it than that and silently chastised herself for making such a snap judgement. Just because the woman looked pristine and put together didn’t mean anything. That there was a scarf around her neck…
“Acting Weyrleaders shouldn’t be in the business of intimidating the impending Weyrwoman into delivering power into their laps and making them meet their… needs. That’s not how it is.”
Isolwyn whirled to face her, a dagger in her hand. “Get out,” she all but snarled.
“Not until you answer my questions,” Jet responded, sliding a knife of her own into her hand.
“Who are you? What could you possibly hope to achieve?”
“Your freedom, for a start.”
“Weyrleaders don’t force themselves on their Weyrwomen. No-one should force themselves on anyone, but whatever he’s told you and whatever he’s made you feel, it’s—“
Isolwyn’s brow furrowed. “You mean C’aol?”
“He was warned. And now he has to pay the price.”
“What—You think he was the one who…?”
“He has form,” Jet uttered darkly.
“He was the one who made sure I was safe—“
“From someone else having you, I’m—“
“No,” Isolwyn insisted. “He was the one who found me after another tried to… He was the one who looked after me and kept me safe. He protected me. He made sure I was okay and saw to it that I wouldn’t have to see that man or deal with him. He wasn’t the one who tried to… force me.”
“And you were in his bed?”
She blushed fiercely. “Whether I was or was not in his bed and why I was there is nothing to do with you or anyone but me and him.”
“This isn’t how it has to be. You don’t owe him anything. You don’t have to do as he wants. Agreeing because you have to isn’t giving consent!”
“But agreeing because I want him and because he is my choice is. He wasn’t so insensitive as to even suggest that we sleep together after what happened yesterday, so whatever you think is going on here plainly isn’t. And it isn’t any of your damn business.” Isolwyn sheathed the dagger and gave a sharp nod towards the ledge. “I’ll tell you what Eosyth has already iterated. This will be my Weyr. My home. My people. He is one of mine. No-one hurts one of mine. Get out of my Weyr.”
Jet smirked. “Men like him don’t change, Weyrwoman. But if you want to be the next puppet goldrider in the world, then be my guest. He better watch his back. And you better watch yours if you’re sleeping next to him.”
“Tell him I dropped by, won’t you? If you can remember after he’s taken you, your queen and your agency. He’ll remember me.”
Shame. Girl had fire.