Delusional

Who: Isolwyn and Akemi
Where: Isolwyn’s Weyr, Fort Weyr
What: Akemi tries to bargain. It doesn’t work out.


Akemi and Maozheth have not returned to Silverfield Hold in weeks, nor have they taken up their old residence at Honshu or any other Weyr. Akemi has followed the routes she used to take part in as a trader, using the time away from her responsibilities to walk down old memories with her blue by her side. When she has decided upon a path forward, Akemi has Maozheth appear from Between over the skies of Fort Weyr. He hails the watchdragon for permission to land. Once Maozheth has delivered Akemi to the bowl, he lingers long enough to press his muzzle near her body for the woman to hug before he returns back to the skies. Akemi tucks her riding gear into a satchel that she tosses over her shoulder as she proceeds through the Weyr’s bowl in the direction of the council chambers. Maozheth’s electric voice is subdued as he reaches towards Eosyth, << My rider has come to speak to yours regarding matters at Silverfield. She says that yours will know what this is regarding. >>

The moment Isolwyn realises what subject is to be at hand is the same one in which Eosyth tells Maozheth, << You are to remain with the watchdragon. If you make yourself a nuisance or a threat, you will not leave until I am satisfied you have learned your lesson. >> It isn’t long before the Weyrwoman appears on her ledge as if to protect her weyr and council chambers both, her focus on Akemi as she crosses the bowl. When their paths intersect, she clasps her hands behind her back and declares, “I wonder that you would visit me when word has it that you have left your Lady wife to the care of your brother these past weeks. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to at home.”

Maozheth has never been an argumentative dragon – and Eosyth’s command is met with a mental-shrug and a rumbled, << As you wish >> as he wheels himself to land beside the watchdragon. He lounges near the watchdragon, appearing content to let his tail idly swish back and forth as he watches the movements around Fort. Akemi’s approach towards Isolwyn is measured and her face remains impassive in the wake of the comments directed her way. Her hair is firmly braided and coiled away from a face that has been hastily scrubbed in a stream only that morning. Her clothing looks like she has been on the road, as she has, and no attempts have been made to tidy herself otherwise. “I find it interesting that a Hold in the south should be of rumored interest in the north. I am not one to place much weight in gossip.” She stands before Isolwyn, letting silence fall between them, waiting for the Weyrwoman to speak before she does.

“If you and your Lady have failed to keep an adequate watch on events across the world, that is none of my concern,” Isolwyn claims, giving a too casual twitch of one shoulder. “And given the connection between my Weyrleader and your wife… That Silverfield is of interest should come as no surprise.” Abruptly, she turns to head through the mouth of her weyr, fully expecting that Akemi will follow, her steps carrying her through to the council room, the door closed firmly behind the two of them. “You should be aware that it won’t be beyond the note of Eosyth’s mate that you are here. Foreign dragons garner his particular attention.” It’s all the warning she provides before she crosses the room and seats herself at the head of the table. “Please,” she invites. “The floor is yours.”

Akemi handles Isolwyn’s casualness and observations with the continued impassivity of her nature. It would seem any criticism of her or Silverfield are not enough to rouse any sort of emotion or response from her other than that same blankness she arrived with. “Maozheth is doing as he is told. Eosyth and her mate should respect that he has no part in why I am here and we mean no immediate harm to Fort.” She waits until Isolwyn finds herself a seat and then she draws nearer to the table. Standing across from Isolwyn, she rests a hand on the back of her chair to steady herself against. “You visited Silverfield with accusations of attempted murder,” she tells Isolwyn, “and left Lady Zinovia in a state of shock and turmoil. She believes you intend to use this information to harm her position or her children’s.” Akemi watches Isolwyn closely as she delivers this information, before she tightens her hands on the back of the chair. “I will tell you who conspired to have your Weyrleader killed all those years ago if you deliver a letter, notarized by a Harper, that you remove such accusations from Silverfield Hold.”

Isolwyn frowns, only to settle a hand over her heart and state, “On Eosyth’s life, I accused your Lady of nothing.” She continues to regard Akemi through slightly narrowed eyes, her head tilting slightly. “Lady Zinovia and I parted ways on good terms. Unless her demeanour changed dramatically upon my departure, I fail to see exactly what it was that I did to her that has caused ‘shock and turmoil’. You stand accusing me of intending to harm her position – or, more revoltingly, that of her children – when the purpose of my visit was to ascertain whether any potential ill-feeling towards my mate…” She pauses, only for steel to consume her dark gaze. “For he is my mate, not my Weyrleader, make no mistake,” she warns. “If she would consider further children from him a threat to her own and make their lives politically difficult. Your accusations are unfounded, though I thank you for informing me that you are aware of who intended not only to harm him, but to kill him.”

Akemi continues to stand still, her chin lifting only slightly as Isolwyn makes her statements. She blinks slowly in response, once more letting the cloak of silence fall heavily between them. “I would respect your swearing an oath on Eosyth’s life if I believed it would be enough to stall you from rash actions once you have the full knowledge before you.” She shifts her footing, moving to brace her knees as she tightens her hold on the chair. Even Isolwyn’s claim of mate to Fort’s Weyrleader earns no response from Akemi. “Weyrleader’s have fallen to… suspicious circumstances very recently. That Fort’s Weyrleader,” Akemi will not dignify the use of his name, “remains standing when two others have died seems to be to the benefit of Fort.” She tips her head slightly towards Isolwyn, “And you.” She removes her hands from the chair and glances towards the door. “I suppose you would think my coming is dramatic, if you believe that your actions at Silverfield had no repercussions.” She looks back to Isolwyn. “I’ll leave you to your day, if you believe that my accusations are unfounded.”

“I hardly believe that my Weyrleader should be considered fortunate because he survived an attempt on his life and others have not,” Isolwyn drawls, sitting back in her seat. She shrugs again, this time the other shoulder. “I would love you to leave me to my day, but the problem is that you’ve rushed in and shown your hand and now //I// know that //you// know who wanted C’aol dead. And unless I somehow manage to keep barriers between myself and my queen for the rest of my days, she is going to know. And C’aol’s Daeserath is going to know.” Delicately, she places her hands down flat on the table. “And you won’t be leaving once she knows,” she murmurs, her voice full of shadows. “To ask me to remove accusations from Silverfield suggests that it was not your Lady, which I already know. There would be no point in requesting protection from mere accusation if she had done it, for there would be no protecting her then.” The Weyrwoman takes a breath, letting out a poorly concealed sigh. “The best you can do for yourself now is to tell me what you know and hope that we can do something about it. Because this ends with Harpers or my Weyrleader or //both//, and you’ve positioned me as all you have to damn you and protect you.”

Akemi has never quite learned the practice of thinking through her actions and the reality of her brash decision dawns slowly on her as Isolwyn’s words slice her plan apart. Her face pales and her features flicker for the first time as her eyes close in defeat. She bows her head and allows herself a number of measured breaths before she lifts her gaze to Isolwyn. “I did it,” Akemi tells Isolwyn steadily as she reaches to place a hand on the chair once more. “I found the woman known as Jet and told her to be rid of him for what he did to Zinovia.” Her plan in ruins, her fate in the hands of Isolwyn, she holds the Weyrwoman’s gaze even as fear waivers in her gaze. “I am prepared to face the consequences.” Maozheth roars his denial of Akemi’s admittance as he gathers himself to his feet and prepares to launch down to the Bowl to collect her.

As Maozheth prepares to disobey her orders, Eosyth reaches out with deceptively gentle tethers to keep him where he is, unwilling to risk further harm to her Weyr or a threat to her clutch while the memory of Benden’s queens still rings loud in her mind. She may not intend the flicker of rage that follows, icy-cold and full of shattered shards, and nor may she know the reason for it yet, but that Isolwyn feels it is enough for her to cast it outward. Rather than exclaim or hurl anything remotely aggressive at Akemi, all the goldrider does is look away from her and murmur a pointed, “Your Lady told me that she led him on. Encouraged him.” She speaks no more for moments after that, seemingly secure in understanding what those words will mean at this precise moment. “The Harpers will decide upon exile. You understand that?” She glances back at her. “You stand to receive greater mercy from the man you spared none for. So, what’s it to be? A cell at the Hall or your fate in my hands?”

Maozheth has not had to face a queen’s control in some years and he balks at Eosyth’s reach as he snarls fury at being tied to the heights of the Weyr. He remains frozen in place, his fury lacing down his bond to light Akemi’s features with it. It does not last long before Akemi lowers her head and closes her eyes, not commenting on any of Isolwyn’s words as she processes them. “I came so no other would be blamed for what I did,” she tells Isolwyn slowly, keeping her attention fixed on the table before her. “Do with the information what you will.” She lifts her chin as her eyes level on Isolwyn’s. “Exile or fate determined by your Weyrleader. Zinovia reminded me more than once that he is the father to her daughter. As the woman who helped raise her, I would hope that your Weyrleader would take into account what my fate may determine for her well-being. Tell him to consider that. I do not ask for mercy for myself.”

Isolwyn exhales another tight sigh and mutters, “That you have no preference… There was no thought to marching in here, was there? No thought to the consequences of what you hired that woman for either.” She stares down at the table for a long moment and shakes her head. “If the choice were entirely mine, at this second I’d quite like to set her on you and see how you fare. It feels as if it would redress the balance. But I don’t have as much of a right to anger as he does. If he wants to turn you over to the Harpers, he can.” Her focus drifts a little before she says, “Our Weyrsecond will escort you to a room in our caverns and your blue will be grounded for as long as it takes for your future to be decided. I don’t recommend resisting Eosyth.” She stands, pausing only to adjust her skirts a fraction. “You gave Silverfield as a reason for coming here. Lady Zinovia as a reason for what you did. Now you give the child as a reason for mercy. It sounds… delusional.” When she moves for the door, to open it up for the aforementioned Weyrsecond, she keeps to the other side of the table from Akemi. She hesitates just before she opens it, only to remark, “If he lets you live, he’s a better person than I am.” And, with that, she leaves her to the Weyrsecond.

“Delusional,” Akemi toys with that descriptor, allowing herself one moment to speak freely before she allows silence to once more claim her. When the Weyrsecond comes for her, she is as impassive as she was when she entered the chambers with Isolwyn. If the Weyrsecond expects her to protest or demand answers, Akemi is stoically silent as she marches from the council rooms. As she walks through the various hallways that enter the caverns, she holds tight to any and all reactions she may have for what has transpired. As the door to her ‘room’ is opened, Akemi nods briefly to the Weyrsecond and walks in. That the room has a small bed and a desk, Akemi moves to sit herself at the desk. The Weyrsecond closes the door after her and locks her in. When no one is left around her, Akemi remains still and stares for hours at the walls. Grounded and removed from access to his partner, Maozheth remains on the heights and curls tightly upon himself as he awaits his rider’s fate.

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