|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 11:42 am
Metaplot!
v. Crimson Funeral Two days after the Hatching Feast, the funeral for the fallen Crimsonrider was held. It was a somber affair, her funeral pyre covered in the gorgeous blood-red flowers of the south in honour of her dragon. The small craft was moored at the peer, the tinder tucked artfully onto the boat’s deck, with her tier raised above the bed of flowers. Funerals were uncommon things at Weyrs but Abigail had felt this to be an important thing, to hopefully bring closure to those closest to Alumanth and her rider, and to show Benden just how much Trine valued all of its dragons, regardless of colour. The funeral had also turned into a political hot bed. Abigail had thought long and hard on how to turn the events around and put pressure back on Benden and her plan boiled down to something so simple she was inclined to call it genius. The Weyrwoman was not pleased with the Healers’ presence, or the reports of missing goods, or missing riders, or the myriad of other rumours that had filtered up through the ranks and all of it could be squarely placed on the arrogance of Benden. So when Malvren’s Weyrwoman Eirlyn arrived with her entourage, including the new goldrider and a few of her newest Senior Weyrlings, it had taken the Weyr by surprise then had made people grin. Trine was independent, yes, but Malvren’s presence as a clear ally at such an event was a stroke of genius. It said, all too clearly, that the Weyrs had their eye on Benden… and Benden, for better or worse, was indebted to both Malvren and Trine. Malvren because it did not pursue the same trade embargos Benden had and to Trine because the Weyr had taken the higher road, allowing both riders and healers to remain, despite having every right to bodily kick their people out. If asked, the Malvren’s camp answer was simple: They came to mourn the loss of a rare breeding crimson and her rider as any responsible Weyr ought to do. It was a powerful move on the New Weyrs’ part, and an effective one. It was simply too bad that Master Healer Givon’s now infamous files had grown and he walked with an almost ludicrously smug smirk on his face as he stood with the Benden riders. The New Weyrs might have won this particular battle, but his attitude suggested he’d gotten away with the key to victory. It was all abuzz in the Benden camp – they were almost certain they’d found an answer, and only the Old Weyrs would benefit from it. The repercussions were obvious: the Old Weyrs would regain their prestige and proper, Traditional methods would reign once more. The funeral, then, was about so much more than single death while not everyone could grasp enormity of the situation, those who pay attention could come to realize that something huge was afoot here. A saying often tossed between the weyrfolk was spoken frequently this day: The Politics of the Holds was for Land. The Politics of the Weyrs was for Lives. It held a certain ring to it this day at the funeral and none of the ranking officials tried to quash it. IC Notes
The funeral is taking place in Trine’s Environs – on the far side of the triple lakes. A large space has been cleared and tents erected for people to converse under. There are snack tables – mostly fruit and cheeses but no wine or spirits are being offered.
Malvren’s presence is for a single day – the day of the Funeral – and that is all.
It has also been announced that the Benden Healers and Riders will be leaving on mass in three days’ time. The last to leave with by Master Healer Givon and his personal attendants.
This is a group ORP. Malvren Senior Weyrlings, Trine Junior Weyrlings (and Riders), and Benden Riders are all welcome to mingle. Keep in mind the rules Abigail imposed regarding conflicts.
While the Senior Weyrlings should technically not have known how to go Between, Eirlyn had made special arrangements for the group when she asked if they would like to attend with her and received a majority vote of yes. They have spent the last four days training solely on going Between.
OOC Notes
Malvren Characters Present: Weyrwoman Eirlyn, the Senior Weyrlings who chose to come, and three Wingleaders. H’trel was left in charge at Malvren.
Trine Characters Present: Junior Weyrlings, Weyrwoman Abigail, Weyrleader N’rak, and anyone who wishes to be present.
Benden Characters Present: Benden Riders, Benden Healers, Master Healer Givon. The brass of Benden has not made an appearance.
[ORP Is Located Here] – It will be open for 1 week.
RPs with Benden characters cannot be started after August 07 2010 – You have 12 days left. (ICly, the time between the Funeral and the Exodus is 3 Days. Keep this in mind.)
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 12:57 pm
"Such a way for her to have died... I am glad we came, Mine."
Kleos nodded silently and raised a hand to touch her lifemate's shoulder. She could feel her partner longing for what Alumath had had, and her sadness at the death of her fellow dragon, her fellow crimson come to that. "I'm glad too my love," she said eventually, "it's only right that we should show our support to Trine, both in their grief, and against Benden. The curs should have been sent straight back to where they came from in my opinion... but I am sure there are a thousand reasons why Weyrwoman Abigail didn't feel able to give that order."
"If ever I see that bronze..." Moriath's eyes flashed orange, but she didn't finish the sentence. She knew she was superior to a bronze dragon in almost every way, but in a fight? It was not worth risking her life to find out whether or not she could best one of the big males in that situation. After a moment, she sighed slightly and her eyes faded back to greyish blue. "I wish our first flight away from home together could have been a happier occasion," she commented, "but as you say it was only right, and I am glad... As glad as it is possible to be about such a thing."
Kleos smiled faintly and nodded. "I know love, I didn't imagine you meant you were having fun... What a mess this is, and how easily could it have happened at Malvren? I wonder why Benden chose to study their clutches rather than ours... Do you suppose it was because of Alumanth?"
"I suppose so. We crimsons are rare enough as it is, a clutching one is far more so..." Moriath trailed off again at this point, a tinge of yellow entering her eyes. She still had that decision ahead of her. She still didn't know what she would do when it came to time to make her choice... But today of all days she could put that aside. Today was not about her, it was about Alumanth and hers... and it was about Benden. Eyes flashing orange again, the large crimson shot a glare over at where the foreign riders stood.
*****
"And so it comes to this. The end nears. The healers pile their notes on notes and though we come to honor the death of their rider, Trine glares and brings their watch wher ally to growl over at us." Brumath addressed his words to His and to the other Benden dragons, wondering what each of them was thinking. Perhaps Galavanth was thinking to stay, the bronze had seemed very fond of the new young dragons. He seemed especially fond of the new gold rider, come to that. "They think to scare us? To humiliate us?" the brown mused, his dull blue eyes locking with the orange eyes of a young Malvren red. "Their efforts are in vain," he decided, "mayhap to the outside they look the shining and good ones this day, but they do not humiliate me and they certainly do not frighten me."
F'itz was just about as immune to the hostile atmosphere as his dragon, but that didn't mean he was rushing to mingle with the folk of Trine and Malvren. For one he had no interest in them and for another, while he might not be afraid, he was sensible; emotions would be running high today, who knew when some hot tempered rider might snap? The sooner this day was over the better so far as he was concerned... but there was one thing he wanted to do before it was, and he might as well do it now. Sighing softly, the brown rider turned towards the funeral boat and threw a salute; no rider deserved to lose their dragon.
"...Correct, nor any dragon to die in such a manner." This time Brumath addressed only his rider. "Such is the world we are a part of, however," he went on, turning to look out at the boat. "Darkness lies within all of us. It is just a matter of what will draw it out. I wonder what we shall find when we return home? What will have become of that fool who allowed his heart to slip between, allowed a mother dragon to bleed her last over her children's shells?"
"I don't know" F'itz replied, "but I look forward to finding out. Sharding fool."
*****
K'ro stood beside his lifemate, trying not to consider what life would be like without her. In so short a time she had become everything to him.
"So it should be," Viridith rubbed her face against her rider's hand and rumbled softly. "I am everything to you, and you to me... So what will become of the rider who did it?"
"I don't know," K'ro shrugged slightly, "that will be for Benden to decide."
"And will they punish one of their own?" Viridith snapped her neck around with lightning speed to glower at the cluster of invaders. She was not happy about their presence, not happy at all. "Why did they even come here to start with?"
"I don't know the answer to either of those questions either I'm afraid," K'ro replied. "I can't imagine they would just let him get away with it but I don't know very much about Weyrs to be honest, it might be judged that because he did it to an atypical it doesn't count as a crime, or that it just doesn't matter because the dragon wasn't of Benden... I don't know, but there's not a lot we can do about it. As for their purpose, all I know is that their healers came to study your eggs; no idea why."
"I do not like the idea of them staring at me," Viridith hissed, her posture going even more rigid than normal. "They should be driven off," she growled, "they should not be allowed to stay."
"They'll be gone soon Viridith," K'ro assured his partner and scratched her fondly on the head. "Give it a few days, I'm sure they'll be forced to leave soon... That or they'll finish their work; there aren't any eggs to study anymore, after all."
*****
Tor had been fortunate enough to catch a lift over with Xan and Opeth; the blue didn't much like giving him rides, but did so at his lifemate's request (and threats not to tickle his eyeridges if he played up). Now that he was here... The harper sighed and reached up to give Eldest a stroke. Such a day. Dragonets were here who had never had the chance to know their mother. It was so sad, sad and wrong. At least he had Ayaka to be happy for; he could still hardly believe it had actually happened. Part of him was sad to lose her as a dedicated harper, but the rest was happy that she'd found that special connection, and knew that she wouldn't easily give up her music. It might have to take a back seat while her dragon grew, but once she was a fully fledged wingrider he just knew she'd be back at singing and composing, probably with that sweet green at her side...
There was the funeral boat; he was seeing it from above through n**'s eyes. It was beautiful, and perfectly fitting with all of those wonderful flowers... "I wish things could have been different," he murmured, as much to himself as to anyone else.
*****
Well. Here they were. They'd dropped Tor off a little way back; she'd managed to persuade Opeth to give him a ride here but the blue had not been keen to remain in his company, and today she was not going to push her lifemate. He might not like to show it but she knew this was paining him... Well, he was a dragon, his grey-orange eyes told everyone that, but she would have known without the visual cue. "It's alright handsome," she gave the blue's shoulder a firm slap of reassurance, "they won't be here much longer, and this will be a fine send off... Wish we could do more, but we can't"
"I know," Opeth's eyes gleamed brighter orange for a moment, "but I would still like to tear them apart. Their lives are worth less to me than the wherries I eat. They are scum, and the sooner they leave the happier I shall be." The only thing stopping him from leaping onto the Benden invaders was the fear of what would be done to Xan if he killed them all, or what would happen to her if they killed him. "Thread take them," he hissed to Xan, and any of his fellow Trine dragon who might happen to be nearby. It was a dirty thing to wish on anyone, but they deserved it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 1:27 pm
F'ren sighed, he had made the decision the day after the hatching feast, he felt a need to say goodbye to the departed crimson rider, maybe as some sort of closure. Mine, you will be alright, everything will be fine as long as you concentrate on this, and not the other Weyr's riders and healers. F'ren caressed her head as she walked beside him, I know Toulonth, but the smug look on the Bendens grates on me he sighed to her, trying to focus his thoughts on the Funeral, rather than the Benden riders, he blatantly refused to lok in the direction of one particular bronzerider, but he kept his mouth shut this time, remembering the feast.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 1:37 pm
B'tar:
At least one Benden Rider didn't look so much smug as somewhat solemn, with an somewhat heavy salting of nervousness.
The funeral was, he had to admit, an beautiful affair. Stunning, lovely, but it was impossible to feel comfortable enjoying it, even if you did. Well... enjoy was the wrong word. Appreciate. Appreciate sounded better, even if he was still sweltering in the Trine heat.
What he wasn't sure about was the Master Healer, who looked like a glutted dragon himself, more pleased than solemn, and some of the dragons here, including some of those among Benden's who's eyes flickered with their unconcealed thoughts of anger and hostility. If there was a sickness, it was there, and he hoped it wouldn't spread through the dragon ranks. The idea of today turning into a repeat of the bloodbath that had brought them to this unpleasant state of affairs made him shudder.
I wish he would make an effort to stop looking so pleased with himself. he confided in Primath, after glimpsing the Master Healer. I do wish he'd tell us what he sharding found...
My offer to sit on him stands. Primath reminded him, trying to ignore the fervent glare from one of the Malvren crimsons, and the grumbling from some of her wingmates. She was still stubbornly jealous of the atypes, though she was smart enough at least not to admit it to the others. B'tar could feel it in her though, practically burning under her skin.
He felt a different sense of discomfort, maybe it was because he made an cheerful habit of reviewing the charts of the Starsmiths, but he felt like a very small piece of vegetable in an huge stew pot, and things were starting to boil. It was not yet at full boil, but it wanted to get there.
What happend to the offending Bronzerider would likely, he suspected, play no small part in deciding if this pot would boil over or not though.
-------
S'in
Malvren had sent representatives, that was... that was deft. Amazing, and a powerful statement, and he silently commended Abagail and the Malvren weyr-leaders on the powerful political statement. They stood together, they were strong, but they were just.
And judging by flashes of color among the dragons, it was pissing some of them off.
So many people... Linnaeth chirped, softly, refraining from his normal singsong chirps, trills and music at a request from S'in, out of respect for the fallen Crimson and her lost rider. It was a funeral after all.
It's amazing isn't it? He agreed. I wish it wasn't for such sad reasons.
-----------
S'kagi
She was the mother of some of the others...we should be more up front. They should see us. Luvith argued, though she didn't make an effort to squirm from where she was, with S'kagi's arms around her gently.
"Not right now." he argued back, watching the crowds. He and she had already had one or two short 'arguments' on where he belonged in the affair, not being from anywhere near Trine, though she had (clearly) been hatched here. It wasn't something he wanted to necessarily be caught up in, when he was still nervous of loosing his partner.
He had, after all, been originally searched by an traditional Weyr, and after he'd proved a handful, they'd gifted him to Trine. A gesture that now felt as though they'd been treating the younger weyr as a dumping ground, though he suspected they hadn't intended for things to end up quite this way. He certainly hadn't expected it to.
You should be bolder. I found you. That proves you belonged here from the start. Stand with those like you.
I will... He promised, reluctantly. But we can't let an fight break out. Not here. Not today.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 1:55 pm
The reason Tiepet and Filanth had come was much like the others in spite of the Timid Shepherd's clear dislike and unease of being in such a place - a great dragon had passed and all must come to honor her memory and mourn the loss of both the Crimson and her Rider. It was actually more of Filanth's idea than it was Tie's, the green having spoken to a few of her clutchmates that were eager in coming, and even though she'd initially said no both of them still somehow found themselves at Trine's shore, watching the funeral proceed.
It would taste a lie to say that Tiepet wasn't crying, as heavy and dirty tears streaked down her face. She was hot and sad, two very bad things to be for someone whose dragon was growing older by the day and heading into a time where she'd be more of a handful than in her youth, though such thoughts were quickly put on the backburner in favor of honoring the fallen woman.
It's okay to cry out loud Mine, since you look really gross trying to keep it in. Also, stop rubbing your face - you didn't wash your hands very well and now you've got dirt streaked over your nose.
Filanth moved her wing a bit to force more light onto Tiepet, the young rider actually having taken to her normal spot of being hidden by the bulk that was her green dragon. Even though Filanth was by no means large it didn't hurt the fact that Tiepet hadn't grown at all over the past months, hardly even developing into much of a woman. Short hair stayed short, skinned knees stayed skinned. The onyl difference between now and then was a much larger, slightly bolder (towards Tiepet) Filanth.
No one would have to see me if you kept me covered. I don't want the people here to think that people from Malvren are dirty because I can't clean myself properly.
Tie rubbed her face with her sleeve in an effort to get clean, likely a moot point considering that even though she'd scrubbed herself down to almost bleeding to come here. . .she still was a Beastcrafter at heart. There would always be dirt on her somewhere.
Perhaps, but I do not think they will think that of you. They will love you for mourning one of theirs so strongly that you're a dirty mess, so don't worry. I will not let them say bad things about you.
Filanth crooned as she looked down at Hers before looking up and over at the rest of her clutchmates, wondering just what they were all thinking as well. This was certainly a time to be somber, if ever there was any other.
- - - ---
Ofelia wasn't going to the funeral, end of story. Her morning candlemarks had been spent (in between caring endless for Serinth) helping her brother with getting a list of things she'd be needing in order to stay in the Weyr. Originally only planning on being here for a few months at best before it turned into a life time affair, the Crimsonrider was in dire need of. . .well, everything. There was much she'd left at the Hall that she now wanted with her in a more permanent residence, so that and her dragon weighed more on her mind then some...funeral. She was going to stay and clean and that was that - until a random Weyrfolk happened to pass by and make some smart remark.
It had been something about "having the legacy of Alumanth" as her lifemate, or was it "you have one of the dragonets period, be respectful." ? Either way Ofelia hadn't taken either saying too politely and thus had stormed into her chambers to get cleaned up, determined not to look nasty twice in a row while at a Weyr outting. While as a tanner her appearance meant next to nothing to her, it apparently meant a good deal now that she was a rider - a Crimsonrider at that. Hair needed washed, new leather clothes needed worn. Basically - she needed to not look like herself. Shame.
So it was in this manner that Ofelia of Serinth, apparently "Alumanth's Crimson Legacy" appeared at the funeral with her lifemate at her side. Her hair had been washed and brushed, let loose about her head instead of pulled up into a braid or its usual many buns. It hung about her shoulders and lower back with delicate curl, her brother actually having taken the time to try and help her look good - hey, he could care too! this was family on the line after all! She was dressed in her finest outfit, a rather dashing suit made of dark brown leather that mirrored close to black.
Even Serinth was attired with something neat, a leather collar in matching colors around her neck and leather bracelets about her front legs. As a tanner they would both never go for want of good leather - Ofelia refused to allow that. They both looked oddly silent and somber for such a loud pair, though in reality both of them just didn't know what to say. Ofelia had never been to a funeral and Serinth had no idea what was going on.
A good combination, if any.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 2:12 pm
Mine! Can we take some flowers home? I can make many red dragons with those flowers. And the sky colors and the sands. It is so lovely here. So much to inspire me. Zabreth was looking around, craning to see all the decorations, the boat, the flowers, the everything. It was sensory overload for the dark green. Her eyes were the only thing that gave away how she truly felt underneath her commentary. They were tinged for sorrow.
When the Benden man had come to Hers right after they had been together, Zabreth did not understand his questions so all she did was answer him. But now, the word Benden left a funny mental...taste. Still, she tried to remain cheerful for hers.
Ralae, dressed in somber clothes with her riding jacket on overtop, held her place with the other Malvren riders. When Eirlyn had asked who wished to attend, she had volunteered. Not because curiousity was eating her from tip to toe but Benden needed to know that New Weyrs would not back down from a challenge. The teen did her best to keep her most adult look on her face, trying to take everything in so she could tell Wykla and the others who could not be here about it. "You're right, Zabreth. It is very pretty here. As long as you promise not to trample them, I will grab you some flowers and some sand. No putting it in my bedding though. I hate when you do that."
After the solem goodbye, she turned away and wiped tears away from her eyes. Her stomach rumbled and sliding down off of Zabreth, Ralae went to go find one of the small food trays that was being passed around.
~~~~~~~~~~~
V'tur sat on top of Iweith along with the rest of his wing. They had reported back to G'an along with Xan about their findings between the two riders. So much had happened so quickly and once again, the brown rider was glad he had done his best to stay out of Weyr politics. He had listened for days, hoping to find out what Benden had to the bronze rider.
But if anything had been done, it certainly had not been passed along to wing riders. Iweith, the normally cheerful brown, had kept quiet the entire time. Since coming back from the Hold, the brown had had a few conversations with the others. The Hatching had put him in a better mood and he was eager to go meet some of the new Hatchlings.
The fact that they were all thriving was a tribute to Alumanth, a crimson that had always been in good light with Iweith. She never looked down at him. I shall miss her.
"As shall I, Iwieth." V'tur patted his beloved. He wished in the most secret part of his heart and mind that he would be able to forget over time like his brown would... This death, it had shaken him up more than he cared to admit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
N'ymi was once again in her Gather best. This time, to mourn Alumanth and hers. She would have prefered that the Benden trash would have been made to stay away. But perhaps, it was only fair that they say goodbye to the woman they murdered. It didn't matter that only one bronze rider had done the deed. All of them coming to Trine and disturbing their routines, had pushed everyone and every dragon on edge. And a dragon on edge was no joke. At least not to those who considered themselves real dragon riders.
Snorting, she kept a hand on Daroth's head the entire time. The feel of her dragon kept her calm so as not to disturb the little weyrling. A tangle of emotions could be deadly, as was so plainly evident now, and N'ymi refused to let Benden win.
We should leave. We have said our goodbyes and Alumanth's rider is gone to the waters. There is no more need for us here. N'ymi told Daroth.
Nasuymi. The little ones need me. We are all sad. Plus it will do you good to speak to others. Daroth refused to budge. He turned towards the others in his weyrling class and crooned softly thoughts of encouragement and bravery. They would overcome this and be very strong. They were near Luvith and another person whose name they hadn't caught yet. We shall prove them wrong, yes?
Yes. We will.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 2:33 pm
Ca'mil and Cheryth had of course come to say farewell to their fellow crimson and rider. Alumath and her's had chosen a different path - that of breeding rather then fighting but they had shared some common ground and Cheryth had been struck rather hard at their loss and for once Ca'mil wasn't going to fuss about work that she could be doing elsewhere.
Even workaholics knew that some instances proceeded backlogged work - and certainly this would be one of them. They passed several rider pair in their aimless meandering through the crowds and Cheryth her eyes whirling a worried yellow-grey lifted her head to regard one of them. "Opeth is very upset" She chose to share and Ca'mil chanced at look at the typically grumpy blue.
Giving the other rider a sympathetic look Ca'mil patted Cheryth soothingly. 'Can't say as I blame him love'
------------------------------------------------------------
Despite Plexith's efforts otherwise D'lin had yet to really spend any quality time with most of his fellow's - oh sure there were the polite nods and small talk in the Barracks and discussion during lessons...but socialization beyond that was a bit on the small side.
Maybe if he wasn't so dratted tired at the end of everyday he'd be more able to make the effort Plexith continued to try and demand - but turn take it taking care of the bronze was proving to be jut as if not more difficult then any life he'd had working the forges. Not that he'd ever trade back - He'd hated the forge...and he loved Plexith.
'Of course you do - we are meant to be together' Plexith piped up as they walked along - the little bronze had agreed that it was proper for them to come, even as they had not known the Crimson and her rider Trine he had a decreed needed to make a good and respectful showing and certainly the pair deserved every inch of it.
'lets look for some of your cluchmate's' D'lin suggested, shading his eyes against the sun for a few moments to take a look around - clusters gathered all over the place some with dragons some without and to be frank D'lin was just a little bit lost in all the crowds which irked Plexith to a great degree..couldn't everyone stand in more organized groups?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 2:44 pm
A trickle of sweat crawled down K’la’s back. She’d chosen her riding leathers for the funeral, since it was as a fellow rider she honored the death, but the outfit was more suited to northern climes. She stood statuesque, sweating and privately furious at the very stagnant welcome at the funeral. It had been announced she and her fellows from Benden would be leaving soon. She was happy to return home, and she knew the people at Trine would be glad to see them go, but their hate was suddenly palpable now that they were near the end. There should have been relief from all sides, but now that things were coming to conclusion they had to throw this political whispered despise at them as well, slamming the door behind someone who was leaving anyway, as it were. It piqued her endlessly, and she looked coldly over the crowd, her noble-born Hold blood carving her face into something haughty and unblinking as a carving. She might have had more control of herself, if Yvoth had not been all but wilting among the other dragons.
Mine, I want to go.
We can’t. It could trigger something disastrous. They would see is as disrespectful to do anything but allow ourselves to be spit upon.
I wish the other dragons would stop eyeing us so. Even the ones from Malvren seem unfriendly…
Stay strong, dear, K’la responded, eyes growing narrow as the burning ship crumbled on the saves. We won’t be here much longer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 3:08 pm
There was one figure among the Benden crowd who was notably not intimidated. As stoic as ever, S'raid drew into the funeral, dressed in somber tones to reflect the mood of the occasion. He walked among the Trine weyrfolk and riders very much as though he belonged there-- and as his Wingriders might know, there was never a time when the man did not behave as though he belonged, wherever he was. It was simply not in him to buckle under the disapproval of a Weyr that he owed no allegiance to. He was not oblivious to the political maneuvering of one Abigail; on the contrary, he was almost impressed by the woman's resourcefulness and flexibility.
It was nearly... admirable. Not only was the Weyrwoman-- the Weyrleaders, perhaps?-- politically savvy, but she had the know how to turn attention precisely where she wanted it to be. He certainly appreciated that in a woman. A pity that she was so very off limits... he would have enjoyed the opportunity to match wits with her. There was so little to enjoy else-wise, after all. He felt, and chose not to acknowledge, Galvanth's anger at the treatment they were receiving. The Bronze was not cowed, and he had moved to spread his wings out, sheltering whosoever among his Wing might wish for such a thing.
He was feeling distinctly protective, and given the undertones of the event, S'raid did not entirely blame him. However, their approaches were not as one. Moving through the crowd, he gave a nod to F'itz, B'tar, and K'la, eyes searching out and finding what Benden riders they could. But then there was another goal to this trek. I do not think it wise that you should talk to her, Galvanth fretted, slowly closing his wings. It would not do to display any sign of upset for the Trine dragons to gloat over.
S'raid's footsteps stopped, and when he looked up it was into Weyrwoman Abigail's composed face. "Weyrwoman, my condolences for Trine's loss. You have our deepest apologies, and regrets," he said smoothly, his own face as grave as his voice. "I regret that our presence in your Weyr has caused you and yours grief. Perhaps the new weyrlings may salve it some, in time." He bowed to the Weyrwoman, and to the Weyrleader, never one to provide anything less than the fullest of courtesies, particularly where respect was due. And here it was, in very deed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 4:12 pm
Kelvari had initially thought that this wasn't going to be the best thing for her to do with her newly hatched dragon. The funeral of Crimson Alumanth was bound to be an emotional whirlpool, and she had drilled long and hard about how important it was to not disturb her dragon at this early stage...
But this was Alumanth and her rider, and the circumstances surrounding the crimson's death called for the support of the entire Weyr, including the riders of her children.
So young Kelvari had carried her young dragon, Sakath crooning to her the entire time, all the way to the site of the Funeral, giving nods where they belonged, and guarded looks towards those unworthies who called themselves Healers. She wasn't quite sure what to think of the Benden riders themselves, but she hadn't personally had any run-ins with them, and hoped it would stay that way.
Somewhere along the way she had fallen into step with J'iura, and though they did not share any words, neither felt that they needed too. The blackrider was somber and unusually focused, though he was making a good show of keeping his temper in check when he saw some of the Benden riders in attendance.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 4:23 pm
Everyone grieved differently. T'vek had come to understand that his dragon's passions were brief and passing things, but they burned with the intensity of fire consuming Thread. When the blackrider and his dragon spotted the display of red flowers, Taikoth moaned soft and low before retreating to where the other Trine dragons were stationed in their solemn vigil. T'vek had not known the fallen Crimsonrider or her dragon well, but Alumanth was a clutching dragon. She belonged to all the Weyr, and all the Weyr belonged to her, just as if she were a gold.
When a dragon perished, it was never easy... but it was easiest when their rider went between with them. Then it was clean. Then it was over in an instant. Then, there was not the small and somber body remaining in testament to the terrible choice that no rider should ever have to make.
If I should ever go, it will be in the air, where we both belong. Taikoth's mindvoice was uncharacteristically weary, but gentler than usual nonetheless. Do not dwell on the choice she made, or how you would choose in her place.
T'vek was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. His face was still and stern, already sharp features even more distant than usual. And after that single quiet cry, Taikoth was silent as well, taking his position rather more like a statue of a dragon than a living flesh-and-blood creature.
---
S'dekai had never seen Pioth's eyes go grey before, and he decided instantly that he never wanted to see it again.
Unconsciously, the Senior Weyrling found that he had begun to admire and rely on his bronze companion. Pioth always seemed to be a font of endless serenity and poise, unflappable in any circumstance. But when they had heard the news of what happened at Trine, and Alumanth's death, Pioth had been for the first time truly lost, as dumbfounded as his rider at the magnitude of what they had heard.
...How... how could this have happened? How could a bronzerider - a fellow bronzerider! - have been so foolish, so arrogant and reckless as to provoke a clutching dragon, no matter her color? It was an incomprehensible tragedy.
Needless to say, when Eirlyn called for Senior Weyrlings to volunteer to attend and offered extra between training, S'dekai and Pioth had to go. Alumanth was deserving of respect, just as if she had been a gold, and Pioth would not stand for anyone dishonoring her memory. And even if the young bronze's deeply ingrained sense of honor hadn't demanded it, S'dekai would have still wanted to attend. Malvren had to show support. How would it look if he were missing from the ranks of those who came to pay their respects? Still, he was surprised at the open hostility that was radiating all over the funeral. There were raw feelings about what the Benden rider had done, yes... But this felt less like anger at an individual and more like a kettle of resentment about to boil over.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 4:59 pm
Somehow, some way, Ralae and Zabreth had convinced one of the many people serving the solemn event to get them a couple of small sacks. The green rider had not yet caught up to any of her Weyr's riders, instead mingling and trying to learn as much as possible. Ralae had gone off to the side and was rapidly scooping sand into the bag. The sand was much finer and lighter than anything at Malvren and she would do anything to keep Zabreth in a happy mood.
We must get rocks and flowers. Those pretty red flowers! I can make Moriath with those flowers. They are red like her. We will not stay sad forever, Ralae. Zabreth was doing her best to give Ralae her best mind's eye view of the food area. There was a whole table that had flowers on it. Surely they would not miss a few.
Sighing, Ralae tied the bag of sand and moved near one of the tables. Should she ask? Or just snag a couple? If she put them in the bag, they might get squished. Rubbing a hand across her forehead, the young green rider wondered who she should ask for help.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 5:07 pm
At first, A'li had not wanted to attend with the others from Malvren. At first. Then he was reminded that Bronzeriders were men and it was a man's dragon that had done the deed, and he was suddenly all for joining the others in his weyrling class along for the funeral. I would have loved to be on the end deciding that man's punishment. A hand reached out for Zinth's neck, trailing along the cool green scales so readily in reach.
A'limine don't look so angry. Oh, oh look, littler dragons. We could see them please? Eyes whirling a little more towards blue on sight of Trine's newest hatchlings and Zinth offers as quiet of a croon as she can towards those closest to her and hers. They might know of some new riddles and games here that you haven't taught to me yet. So that was where much of her excitement stemmed from.
A'li gave only a shake of the head at his dragon's intentions, trying to stifle a grin. This really wasn't the time to have good spirits, too serious. Maybe later Zinth. This is important and we can't play while we're here to wish them a goodbye. His eyes scanned over the crowd of riders for the rest of Malvren's group, having let himself and Zinth lag behind for their little chat (and to keep Zinth from bounding over to greet the younger dragons to ask for games).
---
N'ian hadn't quite wanted to be there, and possibly would have holed up in his bunk away from the whole ordeal if Suvith hadn't gotten his way. The small blue didn't really understand what was going on but he understood that one- it was important, two- his clutchmates were going with theirs, and three- if his didn't want to go then obviously he should go. And so the pair found themselves with the rest of the new weyrlings and avoiding even looking towards the Benden dragons and riders.
Though Suvith had been quite curious in the foreign dragons himself, he didn't stray even a foot from his in order to make certain that N'ian finally stopped his needless brooding. I am not brooding over anything Suvith would you top crowding me already. This was really going to take some time, but the Crimsonrider's funeral wasn't the best place to continue his little argument. Don't go near those Benden dragons, I may not like it but you are mine and I'm not going to lose you to the likes of them.
You wouldn't lose me, mine. I don't see why you don't like them, they're like all of us. Suvith turned to crane his head towards the large bronze so clearly seen in the group, before looking up at N'ian again. Mine will not be jealous of their bronze! He has me and I am all you need.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 5:12 pm
Well they had made it. It had been a very long walk around but now the group of five stood at the edge of the group here for the funeral. S'kor, Scarath, Optheli, Dynith, and Relys. Relysk was still asleep back in his wagon. Though he passed to get use to the large gather, he saw Optheli with her little green dive right in. S'kor recognized those from Trine, and the Benden riders and healers that had been plaguing the area. He didn't know the ones from Melvren. Supposedly they had the right to pay respects too, and it gave Benden a united front.
'Mine, do they have food here? Can I try a new spice today?' Scarath observed the swirl of familiar and unfamiliar dragons and people. S'kor looks down at his dragon. "I don't know if they'll have food here. It is a funeral after all. If not, I'll feed you when we get back." He knew Scarath wasn't starving, haven just feed the young dragon before they left to walk around.
Optheli was determined to meet the new people from Melvren. Maybe some of them would want to be long distance friends. So when she felt her brother and Relys pausing on the edge she kept going straight ahead. She wished she could have known the dragonwoman. If anyone really needed a shoulder to cry on, Optheli was determined to be there.
Dynith would have been much happier if Hers had stopped with Scarath and His. Diving like this right in to the middle was not her idea. Dutifully she trailed after Hers anyhow. So far at least none of them seemed to have noticed her.
Relys tilts his head as he considers the group. "Good turn out." Being a trader, much less the trader's wherhandler, he didn't see much of the dragonriders themselves. Silba.... S'kor dragged him along because he'd missed the hatching. Shards, that's going to be hard to get use to. He looks around again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 5:27 pm
Mine, Zabreth and Hers are doing something. Perhaps you should go and tell her it's not the right time to be doing things like that? She's wandering awfully close to the new riders and their dragons and they might feel her being. . . .rude.
Then why don't you say something?
Hers is much closer to you in age, mine, and I find Zabreth sometimes hard to talk to, even for being a small sister.
Filanth's eyes whirled blue-green for a moment as she ushered Teipet from beneath her and out into the open, causing the small girl to stumble a bit and almost fall down against the stones. She only just managed to keep her balance (deadglow movement in shoes!) before she took a deep breath and started off towards Ralae, somehow trying to think of a way to get her fellow Greenrider back in order.
"Um...Ralae. . . . ."
- - - -
Meanwhile Ofelia did what Ofelia wanted to do whenever she went places, and that was talk to people. There were so many faces here she didn't know, seeing as the only Benden Rider she knew was S'raid thanks to him being a client of her and her brother, ad she'd only briefly gotten to speak to one of the female riders during the hatching feast before everything sort of mellowed down. Keeping that all in mind the tanner-turned-rider started to march over to where the Benden group was (not so much marching as it was...sauntering?), her intentions entirely to ask them a few questions. The fact it had been a Benden Bronze that had killed Crimson Alumanth was hardly on her mind, if anything at all.
Down at her side Serinth whined to be lifted up, the walk too much for her already and her small body weary from the slightest efforts, and Ofelia knelt down and scooped her up with a single fluid motion.
What do you expect to learn from them?
How ta be a rider.
Couldn't you learn that in time?
I'm not that patient.
. . . so I see.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
