Who: Priska, B’lian, Yedrith, Imahdth
Where: Weyrleaders’ Weyr, Honshu Weyrhold
What: After the hatching of Yedrith and Imahdth’s first clutch.
The hatching of Yedrith and Imahdth’s clutch goes relatively smoothly, save for one of the young dragons choosing their rider from the Stands, all twenty eggs hatched safely and five sturdy bronzes numbering among them. Immediately after she is free of her responsibility to her clutch, Yedrith leaves the Sands to curl up in her own wallow, relishing the privacy of her weyr after being in a public space for so long. Priska, on the other hand, lingers at the celebration in Honshu caverns long into the night, only admitting defeat when her legs no longer want to hold her up, and though she may have hardly touched a drink all evening, she grabs a bottle of something pink and bubbly on her way out, glancing around for B’lian before she leaves.
Imahdth chooses to remain within public sight longer than his mate – mostly due to the pure pride he has in their clutch. Those five new bronzeriders and their families have kept B’lian mostly to themselves for the greater part of the evenings’ celebrations. It’s only when B’lian notices Priska taking her leave that he congratulates the proud families one more time before he takes his cue to depart. He follows along after her and waits until they are in the comfort of her weyr before he flops himself on the couch and kicks his boots off. “Well, Priska, Yedrith has truly made her mark as Honshu’s gold now.” He yawns and runs his hands through his hair briefly.
Priska pauses for long enough with Yedrith to throw her arms as far around her neck as they’ll go and hug her close, pressing a kiss against gold hide, then follows B’lian and goes about locating glasses to put the bubbly in. “I guess, if she remains the only breeding queen, we can hope for her future clutches to be much of the same,” she replies, sweeping her skirts out of the way as she sits herself down and puts the glasses and wine down on the table. “I’m glad of the bronzes, though now we ought to hope for another queen for them. If she’s the only queen, she might rise again sooner than another would.” She gets the bottle open and begins to pour.
“If you believe she’ll rise sooner than we anticipate, we’d best find a solution for the requirement of guarding your during the flight,” B’lian comments as he throws his arm along the back of the couch and watches her as she moves to join him on the couch. He scoots closer to her so his arm may drop from the couch to her shoulders as he hugs her towards him. “The Hatching was a success. And from what I could tell, all the new weyrlings look to be good fits for Honshu. I had a few concerns about some of the candidates… so it’s just as well they didn’t Impress. If they stay on at Honshu, I’ll have to talk to the Headwoman and Steward for where they’d be best placed to grow their skills should they opt to Stand in the future.”
“Isolwyn sent a letter about that the other day, actually,” Priska replies, handing the first glass to B’lian before she leans back with her own, dropping her shoes to the floor and tucking her feet up onto the couch as she tucks in close to him. “She suggested a bluerider from Fort as a suitable candidate. She said we’d have her word that the blue would have no interest in pursuing Yedrith himself.” She makes to clink her glass against his before taking a sip. “That, and the rider in question is Lady Silverfield’s ex-wife,” is shared far more dryly. “She wants to return to Silverfield, but be stationed at Honshu when needed. I think I’d probably have to find something else for her to do every now and then, just to make it worth it.”
B’lian’s brows lift at the news that Priska shares and then he clinks his glass with hers and takes a few sips before he’s framed his reply. “We should consider what is best for Honshu and us. I appreciate Isolwyn’s suggestion of the bluerider… but the rest that comes with it sounds awfully full of… unnecessary drama.” He sets his glass down without taking additional sips. “What else could we have her do? I suppose she could bring some skills if she’s been active at Fort for some time. I can trust Isolwyn would only suggest her if she was a quality rider. Still..,” he trails off, looking to Priska.
“There must be more to it than I’m being told.” Priska takes a long drink from her glass, then sets it down on the low table in-front of the couch. “I might not have had the right to ask when I was a weyrling, but I’m her equal now. If she won’t explain the whole of it, I’ll suggest we won’t have the bluerider here.” As for what else could be assigned the rider, she shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t want her as a bodyguard outside flights; I don’t want the suggestion that I can’t handle anyone myself with my own blades. If Lady Silverfield trusts her, maybe she could be the Hold’s liaison? Then, if she’s her ex-wife, you have to wonder why she divorced her.”
B’lian is quiet for a moment as he closes his eyes and tilts his head, a sign he usually uses to indicate he’s talking with Imahdth. He opens his eyes and looks at Priska with a boyish grin. “You know, I may be no gossip, but my bronze sure is. He told me that there has been quite a bit of talk about how the Lady Silverfield’s husband with his bronze Veruth – you know, the one who came here for a spell? Is the ex-wife’s twin. Now, that is layers of drama, I am not sure we want to encourage amongst our people.” He rubs at his temple briefly with a knuckle and shrugs before he reaches for his glass of bubbly again to sip from.
“If there’s something between the woman and Isolwyn that means they want her to work for Honshu, then one of them is going to need to tell me the whole of it.” Priska begins to carefully lift from her hair the delicate pins that are keeping it up in its crown. “Perhaps we ought to ask the bluerider herself? I can’t say that I warmed to the twin, if that’s who he was. And his taking off like that, after the Smithcraft visited him, makes me think he isn’t any kind of responsible. Especially if he’s left his wife like that.” She leans forward to put the pins she’s removed on the table beside her glass. “If we have to be involved in the drama, then we ought to get something more out of it than a bodyguard. It feels like someone here would owe us, whether Fort or Silverfield.”
B’lian reaches over to brush his fingers through her hair, twirling strands about his fingers for a moment before he returns his arm to the back of the couch. “I love how curled it looks once you unpin it,” he notes and then takes a final drink from his glass before he sets the empty glass back on the table. “Let’s assume both Fort and Silverfield will owe us. Fort will continue to find ways to leverage us to their needs and that is fine with me. I know that is why you were sent to Honshu in the first place. But now that we’re their equals, we should look to find ways they can aid //us// and //our// needs as we grow Honshu.” He shakes his head and then adds dryly, “I believe the Smithcraft revoked the man’s knot. He has lost everything it would seem. I worry about that bronze of his. The man did not strike me as particularly… stable.”
Priska tilts her head into the fingers that run through her hair, a small smile playing across her features as she watches the strands loop around them. “Yedrith won’t be content being a satellite to her dam’s Weyr and nor will I. I know we’re here to lend our voices to Fort, and they’ve been good to me, but I won’t take orders or put Honshu in a situation they don’t want themselves. We ought to think of something we could do with from them before making further enquiries about this bluerider.” She takes another drink from her glass and pulls the last of the pins from her hair, then settles back with her head on B’lian’s shoulder. “Word is that Silverfield’s staff are willing to murder the man themselves for whatever went on. I assume metaphorically.”
“He sounds like a vile man. Why would the Lady have ever married him in the first place? Clearly there were signs of his nature prior to the Impression of his bronze. Older records indicate that some personalities when they Impress change dramatically. I have yet to truly see it myself,” B’lian muses as Priska leans into his shoulder. “I hadn’t planned on being overly involved in our Holders lives, though it would seem with one of them hosting dragons… we may have to be more involved than not. It’s not as if Amorenth is going to clutch at Silverfield, right? We need to also consider that when she next rises. O’rlen and Aerishani may make things… tense for us when they’re here.”
“…If we’re to think down that path, we’ve another reason for not allowing Inaskashath to breed with Jynth, given that his bronze is from their pairing. Maybe there’s something wrong with the bronze himself that has amplified the less desirable traits in his rider.” Priska presses a kiss just beneath B’lian’s chin and declares, “This is our Weyrhold now. If O’rlen and Aerishani want to make things uncomfortable, they can find another place for Amorenth to fly and lay her eggs. Yedrith won’t yield to her, even if she is her grand-dam. Especially because she’s her grand-dam. They relinquished their hold on Honshu because they made mistakes. Mistakes we have to fix.”
“That’s very true. I imagine Rori will have issues if Inaskashath rises while she’s at Benden. I don’t see Benden’s Acting Weyrleader tolerating a blue flying a gold in his Weyr. I may have misread him, though I don’t imagine so. Nala accused me of buying her off when I promoted her. However, from what I have seen, the wing is doing better with her as it’s wingsecond. It could be genetics, rather than anything else, that fails the pairing of them.” He stifles a yawn in the palm of his hand and blinks a few times. “I wouldn’t put it past O’rlen and Aerishani to simply make more mistakes when they’re here. We’ll have to see how it goes when it happens.” He kisses Priska’s temple.
“Rori ought to do herself a favour and claim Benden. It isn’t as if she can’t stay married to her wife. In the unlikely event of another flying Yedrith, I wouldn’t—“ Priska stops herself there and gives a little shake of her head, then unfolds from where she’s curled against B’lian and gets to her feet to drain the last of her wine from her glass. “Come on. What sort of Weyrwoman am I if I let my Weyrleader pass out on the couch?” She reaches for one of his hands to tug her after him as she heads for their bedroom, where she sheds her expensive dress and crawls under the blankets and furs to drape herself over him and sleep.