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When had she started to become so old?

A finger traced the graying hairline of her once rich, auburn locks, slid down to the lines of disapproval and sternness that were now permanently part of her face. Though only thirty-five Turns, Helirra felt surprisingly old. With the loss of her looks, however, she felt as though she'd gained a wisdom that only arrived through experience--something she gladly traded her appearance for. Not unattractive, she had never considered herself to be a pretty woman, so perhaps that was why she was mostly unconcerned with the premature onset of age. After all, things were about to get very interesting in this Weyr--even if right now, her actions would seem fairly insignificant.

Her lips tugged themselves into a thin, satisfied smile, and she leaned back in her chair to seek the reflection of her golden Queen in her mirror. Vasanth stared back at her, and the Weyrwoman's smile grew more genuine when she felt how pleased her dragon was. A woman in charge of a Wing... Who was to say that men needed to be in charge of everything? There was no Thread falling, true, but Helirra did not trust fortune to remain as kind as it had these last Turns. Perhaps more women would rise to take these responsibilities previously entitled only to men--wouldn't that be the day!

Of course, for now, she was the only one who knew of the tiny mix-up between Lyveana and R'than. With everyone worrying about poor, dear Favan, of course. Helirra sorely regretted that Cheoth had worked herself into such a state and some of the unborn dragonets might be endangered for it, but perhaps the stress would straighten the young Queenrider out some.

At the very least, she will be out of your hair. Vasanth said wryly, looking amused when she evoked a chuckle out of Hers.

"I wouldn't celebrate yet. By now, I'm sure D'tai has heard of our little scheme." The Weyrwoman's lips were quirked even as she gathered up a brush and worked on straightening out her tired, sad-looking hair.

I would like to see him try and reprimand you. Came the disdainful reply, and Helirra had to laugh at that.

"Perhaps, my beloved, but we will see... Perhaps it will give him a good shock and realize he has his own woman to worry about instead of that wherry." It would be a terrible loss to the Weyr if anything truly bad had happened to those eggs, but Helirra would enjoy listening to Favan rage for days in the mean time.

The knock made her still, her features carefully composing them into a strong, but stoic mask as D'tai entered the room. A brow slowly, steadily arched itself within the mirror, the warmth in her eyes rapidly cooling until there was only steel that stared at her mate from the mirror. The brush was set slowly down on the table, but Helirra looked as though she had no intention of facing her mate just yet.

Let him wait. Came the smooth note, and the Queen lifted her head to rumble slowly at D'tai. Oh, she'd never even dream of insulting Sesesrath's, but she was going to observe this.

"And?" She replied in time, rising from her seat to perhaps emphasize the height difference between them, turning fully to face the man. "I would expect little less from the Weyrman." The question was, what did he plan to do about it? There was no point in playing games or denying her actions--particularly when she was purposefully probing for a reaction.

There was clearly no lost love here.

"There is no Thread falling now." Helirra stated mildly, her brow still arched as she surveyed the much shorter Weyrman without a word. "Our Weyr is overpopulated with dragons and their Wings as it is--there is nothing that demands this one be sent out in the heat of battle." Unless, she seemed to imply by the way she tilted her chin just slightly, D'tai dared to differ with her?

Things would be so much simpler if we were in charge. Vasanth sighed to the Bronze, but acknowledged the bow by elegantly rising to her feet. Though not the largest Queen, she carried herself well, and neatly turned to take to the air. I will come. And so she back winged elegantly to settle herself near Sesesrath, preening herself for a moment before fixing a whirling eye on her mate.

"If you think I merely appointed the woman without a proper evaluation, then you are mistaken. She is competent, and her dragon almost as keen in mind as a brown or better." Another soundless quirk of her brow. D'tai would get on with what he had to say or she wouldn't bother to go into the specifics of how it was not her place to interfere with the Wing assignments.

The Weyrwoman drew herself up smoothly, using her height as a buffer of sorts to the man's words, well aware that it now seemed she was looking down upon her mate as he spewed his tirade. Though her exterior was calm, chilling, almost, she was having to fight hard to contain a grim smile. He was angry now, and he had grown careless. Still, she let him bluster, her hands at her sides though fingers were flexing faintly as though they'd like to be curled into fists.

How dare he tell you what you can or cannot do? Vasanth had stretched a lazy wing out, as though encouraging the bronze to come closer before that. Now her eyes were whirling, her neck arched, and half-tempted to trumpet her outrage on Helirra's behalf. Her talons threatened to gouge the stone as she hissed low and furious under her breath, but she contained her temper. He will think twice about ever taking that tone with you!

"I met with them." Helirra spoke then in frosted tones, her eyes glittering rather dangerously as she surveyed the Weyrman. "So if you wish to insinuate I am unable to recognize potential, so be it. But know this, D'tai; if you dare to try and bully me into submission, do not be surprised if it is a bronze other than your Seserath who catches Vasanth."

Her nostrils flared at that last bit, her temper finally broken through somewhat, but she was reeling herself in quickly. For now, she saw no need to talk to the Weyrman about anything related to her decision. Let him chew on that for a while!

Vasanth would whirl almost aggressively onto her keening mate, but it was only to nose at him roughly before she began to groom at him. Clearly she needed someone to keep her busy, and though she was irritated, the Queen began to settle as she fussed over the other. They will figure it out. She grumped in a tone that booked no arguement. And if he will not, I will shake some sense into him myself.

"You think I asked her if she wanted to be Wingleader? I told her nothing of her rank, nor her new assignment." She spoke cooly, feigning indifference even as she half turned from him. "Wrong? By the standards you continuously throw at me, yes, perhaps I was wrong. Must I consult you when I know you will throw yourself down and scream like a child in my weyr? You are proving that I shouldn't, particularly if I want to avoid a scene at the time!"

She turned again, a particular bite now in her words as she spoke. "So take the fall, D'tai. Unless this is a bigger issue than the overcrowding of the Weyr? By all means... but let me remind you to be wise when you pick your battles." Her lips were thin, nearly white with her disapproval, and if pushed, she would indeed seek more ammo to throw at the man.

She relished the thought.