The Centre of Attention

Who: Priska, B’lian, Yedrith, Imahdth
Where: Priska’s Weyr, Fort Weyr
What: Priska is tired of male attention.


As the dragons of Priska’s class near adulthood, the more precocious of the bronzes and browns have begun to chase the greens of the Weyr, something that Fort presents them with the opportunity to do on an almost daily basis, and while their attention has begun to swing towards females in such a manner, so too have they begun to notice Yedrith in the same manner that others already have. With Eosyth most certainly off limits to any who wish to live, Hanath on the Sands, and something keeping any interest in Vesoviath nothing more than a momentary thing, Yedrith has increasingly found herself the focus of male interest, from more obvious overtures to others simply seeking the comforting presence of a queen. The first, she has found relatively easy to dismiss with scathing wit, yet the latter is something she seems to be set on learning to tolerate, curled as she is at present in a heap that contains two blues, a brown and a one of her clutch-sibling bronzes. Tolerate being the key word. While she doesn’t permit herself to pace or escape, Priska does, stalking up the stairs to her weyr to slip free one of the blades that now permanently resides at her hip and hurl it to firmly embed itself in the back of the couch.

Imahdth has done his best to keep his distance from Yedrith as he’s noticed those seeking her attention have continue to grow. He’s always made himself available to her and so their conversations have unlikely to be impacted by the growing male attention of others at Fort. Today he is not so easily in the mood to share the one he cares for. He lands with a loud thump beside Yedrith and lowers his head to hiss at those curled around her. << I would speak to Yedrith without your bodies present. Be gone! >> His age and size goes a long way to send those males who were tangled with Yedrith fleeing towards the skies. Imahdth settles himself back on his haunches and angles his face towards the sky to wait until they are out of view. He shakes his wings out briefly and tilts his head towards Yedrith with a hint of a smile to his tone. << They are taking advantage of you. I am surprised you haven't been more firm with them. >> B’lian leaves his meeting with C’aol and the others in the leadership training and finds himself heading into Priska’s weyr. “Hey,” he calls out as he strides in, a portfolio tucked under his arm. “Well,” he stops any further movement into the weyr as he notices the placement of the knife. “I should come back another time.”

Yedrith might as well be made of stone for all she reacts when those males flee, choosing only to seem to even breathe when they’ve left her side and she has only Imahdth before her. << There are no other queens for them to keep company with at the moment. Whether I like it or not, soon a Weyrhold will look to me and I must learn to be more… tolerant. >> She pushes herself up to sit, feline-like, and curls her wings close. << They will not trust me if I do not care in a more… conventional way. >> Priska snarls as she moves to yank the dagger from the couch, the blade one she uses to gesticulate towards B’lian when she demands, “You… Men, as a gender… Why?” That her question is no clearer than appearing to enquire as to the reason for men existing in general bypasses her completely. “You have no subtly. You make her feel bad for not being… softer. One of you brought me flowers and a cup of tea at breakfast and thought it okay to put his hand on my knee. Another decided to subject me to his leadership manifesto. And half of them think we’re sleeping together!”

Imahdth does not seek to touch his body to hers, wanting to give her the space he enforced and is not willing to take from those he sent on their way. << Have you met Amorenth? I never saw those at Honshu cuddling up to her. My rider says she only tolerated her mate. >> Imahdth stays in his alert stance, keeping his gaze straying from Yedrith to the skies. It is clear he has claimed her time and no one else is likely to pester her with him there. << I do not disagree with you. You are already showing you are a quality leader. Only... you need not put up with everything.>> B’lian faces the wielding of a knife in his general direction without flinching. He listens to her words and tries to gather himself for a reply before he shrugs and tells her. “You didn’t go through this as a future Lady Holder of Telgar? Some men have no integrity. Some men are horny bastards. If you wielded knives at all of them, surely they will leave you alone. Do you want to tell me specifically who is behaving this way? I will have a talk with them.”

<< And is that what people know of her? That she would not tolerate those who looked to her? >> Yedrith tilts her head in a manner that suggests her questions to be entirely rhetorical. << I will not be that kind of queen. And my mate will have to find that acceptable or find himself another gold. >> The tip of her tail flicks up and down once, her stare an unspoken challenge. “When I went through it as my father’s heir, it was with chaperones and offerings of Faranth-awful poetry and boasting of what marvellous bloodlines they would provide my future offspring with,” Priska snaps, eyeing the edge of her knife through a critical gaze. “You certainly can’t go and have a chat with any of them,” she insists. “It’s you they think they’re trying to steal me away from in the first place. And besides, I can’t have you defending my honour for the rest of my days. I’ll defend my own sharding honour, thank you.” Shoving the knife back in its sheath, she retreats to the wounded couch. “Why did you want to see me, anyway?”

Imahdth rumbles as he angles his head to consider her with an answering stare, though his is not a challenge, more so that of one who acknowledges his equal. << You will be the queen you wish to be. If you enjoy having a pile of males on top of you because they're feeling needy, that is your choice. That other golds do not tolerate it is their choice. >> His wings shuffle at his side as he stretches himself forward and yawns very pointedly. << Hopefully your mate will know your mind before he claims you >> he tells her far too simply as he settles himself down to lounge more comfortably beside her. B’lian stiffens at the mention of the fact the others believe he is one to best. “You have made yourself clear to me that there is nothing but friendship between us. Surely you can tell the others the same,” he states with a tightening around his lips and eyes as he watches her sheath that knife. “I was not defending your honor. I know you are capable of that. I was thinking more to prevent them getting stabbed for their stupidity,” he attempts to tease though it falls flat in the seriousness of the situation. “I wanted to tell you the names of those in C’aol’s lessons and ask your opinion on C’aol’s approach in the matter. This is the first time I have heard that a Weyrleader is teaching leadership skills to specific riders with the intention of preparing them for leadership. Usually that is up to the wingleaders and chance.”

Yedrith gives a rather obvious huff as she remarks, << I hardly think ‘enjoy’ is the correct term. >> When Imahdth lounges down beside her, she remains sitting for a few moments, large enough now to look over him and out across the bowl, until she merely folds herself back down to the ground, curving her body to fit against his without question that he will like it. That Priska’s temper flares is reflected in the shifting of Yedrith’s wings and the twitching of the goldrider’s fingers, though she does not reach to reclaim the blade. “Sometimes, it is necessary to say things that aren’t true to do the most good for the most people,” she tells B’lian with poorly concealed frustration, staring down at her knees the whole while. “…C’aol is no fool. He knows a queen is more likely to favour the familiar in some instinctive attempt to provide stability for her home, should she have the choice and not be caught by force.” She twitches her shoulders. “Or because she has already made her decision.”

In a move as casual and slick as a human male might, Imahdth stretches his wing out wide as if it were stiff before he settles it over Yedrith’s side. He dips into his memories to draw up images that will please her, destinations she could choose to travel to now that she has already ventured Between. His favorite is a dense boreal forest, where the smell of pine and soil is as rich as the dark shadows that play amongst the limited light of the forest. B’lian’s gaze moves from looking at Priska to focus on something in the distance as he lets her words settle around him. “C’aol did not send the men to you,” he feels the need to clarify, “I believe Isowlyn would gut him if he decided to act in that way. Still, if those that are in this… training, are indeed knocking on your door to seek your favor it may backfire on him entirely.” He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing briefly at the back of his neck in an attempt to ease tension from his body. “Those that seek you out should ask what your plans are for Honshu’s future,” he adds, dropping his hand and looking to her. “Has anyone asked that? Those you share your vision with should be prepared to work alongside you to guide it forward during the transition of leadership.”

“I know he didn’t,” Priska murmurs, still pretending great interest in her knees. “What he’s doing isn’t a bad thing; most goldriders end up with a bronzerider with no idea whether they can lead or not. At least this gives me a chance of it being someone who has some sort of clue.” Sighing, she looks up just a little, tilting her head. “Those that seek me out in //that manner// aren’t interested in Honshu itself or its people. They either want to be Weyrleader because they think it involves people doing whatever they say and doing whatever they want, when they want, and are just interested in the supposed prestige, or have decided that they’d quite like any excuse to bed me and believe I’ll let them keep doing so after the flight.” She kicks her boots off and curls her legs beneath her. “It’s tiresome. The sooner Yedrith is of age and they send us to Honshu to get it all over with, the better.”

B’lian watches her get more comfortable and glances towards the door. “I imagine it is tiresome. Being harassed by those whose attention you don’t want.” He smiles briefly at her. “Imahdth seems to have made it clear, at least for now, Yedrith is old enough to have the company she wants.” He inclines his head towards Priska. “I’ll leave you to your day.” He hesitates again and then reaches abruptly into his jacket pocket. He strides forward and offers her a book. Once she takes it from his hands he turns and leaves without waiting to see her reaction. The book is not practical at all – instead, it’s one of the newest works of fiction that the Harper Hall has released. In it, the heroine overcomes a trial meant to tear her down, and finds love in a friendship she never considered to be more than a partnership of need.

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