Senrali's Stories

Senrali leaned back against the cool rock and closed her eyes. It had been a very long day, she felt. With a sigh she idly massaged her fingers, sore from holding a stylus, then cramping around riding straps, then holding the carving knife, scrubbing brush and oiling paddle as she took care of her dragon. She’d been called in early that morning to work with Weyrwoman Renate and junior weyrwoman Carelan while Iraleigh looked in on the rest of the weyrling classes. At first she’d had to sit through a long lecture on protocol and other stuff she conveniently forgot now, then had been made to write out the name of every Weyrwoman, Weyrleader, gold rider, wingleader, Lord Holder, Lady Holder and Craftmaster on Pern. She was to study this list in her "spare time" (she gave an amused snort at that concept), and memorise it. She pulled out the roll of hide and looked at it. It was so long, so daunting. How was she ever going to memorise this?

She looked out at her sleeping dragonet. Kizmeth had fallen asleep beside the lake. Senrali didn’t want to wake her just yet, even though she knew she’d have to eventually. She quite often wondered why Kizmeth had chosen her, out of all the girls that were standing on the Sands that day. She had no natural leadership qualities! Wasn’t that what gold riders were supposed to do, lead? She couldn’t imagine every rider in the Weyr looking up to her. According to Renate she was already being watched, being judged. What if she fell short of people’s expectations? These times, when Kizmeth was asleep, were the only times she could indulge in her private little fears. She couldn’t even talk to her fellow weyrlings about it, their worlds revolved solely around their dragons. Her world needed to revolve around the whole world, apparently.

Kizmeth was still quite small compared to the other queens, and her colouring was quite different. Would she get darker as she got older? she wondered. Had it been only two months ago? It was so hard to judge time now with every day identical.

She had nearly dozed off into sleep when she felt her stomach lurch and her heart beat faster. She shot up and was on her feet before she realised what she was doing. It was dark now. Kizmeth’s eyes, a little way off, were whirling yellow.

What’s wrong? she asked, just as she heard the watch dragon moan. She stopped in her tracks and looked around. Tevaneth and Feluth were on the Weyrwoman’s ledge, their eyes were yellow, too, and a low moan came from them. Frantically she searched the ledges and found them slowly lighting up with yellow dragon eyes. What happened? she asked, truly worried.

Karath has gone between, Kizmeth said, sounding very scared. Senrali closed the gap between them so she could comfort her dragon.

Who is Karath? she asked, although the name sounded familiar. It was too dark to get out her list to see if Karath was on there.

Her rider was Havannah. Why did they go* between *and not come back? Kizmeth asked plaintively.

Senrali hugged her dragons head to her, feeling very alone out here in the bowl unable to explain to her dragon what had happened. She saw a glow bobbing across the bowl to the Weyrwoman’s quarters. Probably one of the junior weyrwomen. Yes, there was another glow, bobbing along at what looked to be a running speed. Should she go? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to leave Kizmeth who was shaking like a leaf under her. She wouldn’t be of any use to them, so she decided to stay. But what had happened? Her curiosity got the better of her.

"Come on," she whispered to Kizmeth. She didn’t know why she was whispering. Kizmeth got up and followed her trustingly towards the Weyrwoman’s quarters. They stood in the shadow of the ledge and listened to what was going on inside.

Renate paced her weyr as she waited for everyone to arrive. When Iraleigh came running in, only slightly out of breath, she stopped pacing and stood facing everyone. Iraleigh put her glow into the basket with the rest and sat down.

The little one and her lifemate are listening outside, Tevaneth informed her rider.

Let them. They may learn something useful without getting in the way, Renate said, then cleared her throat to get on to the business at hand.

"I’ve been talking to Merecca through Tevaneth and she has no idea what happened. Havannah went between and didn’t come back, as I guess you’ve gathered from your own dragons." The people in the room nodded, but stayed silent. "She was visiting High Reaches Hold. Lady Yalana reported seeing her off and watched her go between. As far as she knows Havannah was heading home to North Ranges Weyr. We know from reports from Merecca that Havannah’s sense of direction is…​ iffy. We need to avoid this, at all costs, happening to anyone else! This only emphasises how much the drills in transferring between must be done again and again until it is all second nature!"

"Don’t look at us, we’ve never had problems, and I don’t know of anyone in the Weyr who has problems with directing their dragon," Carelan said.

"I think she means just that we have to be more careful who we select," L’rec put in. "We always say that the dragon knows. They may know which rider they want, but they don’t always pick them for the best qualities. We just need to make sure to weed out certain qualities that could endanger people in the future. We can stop people from Standing for Impression, we’ve just been so hard-pressed for candidates that we haven’t been hard enough on the screening process."

"But we’ve got to give them as much choice as possible!" Iraleigh protested.

"Not if it means giving them second-quality goods," Carelan said, then blushed. "Not that I’m calling Havannah…​" She stumbled into silence.

"I just want to avoid this happening to anyone else. The only problem is that we don’t know why Havannah and Karath didn’t come back out of between. We need to emphasise that people give clear and precise directions, and not be tired when they’re flying! That could have been part of it. We can’t let this happen to anyone else!" Renate said, hands on hips.

Senrali bit her lip and looked down at Kizmeth, who looked back at her full of trust. The rest of the conversation faded into the background and she wasn’t particularly interested in listening any more.

You’ll never let me down, Kizmeth told her faithfully.

She didn’t answer, but led her dragon back to the Barracks. It was undoubtedly past the curfew and she would be in trouble with the Weyrlingmaster when she snuck past.

Later, lying in bed and secure in the knowledge that her dragon was asleep, she let herself think again. She’d learn all the names she had to, she’d learn all the pictures and coordinates she had to. She didn’t want to let Kizmeth down, she didn’t want to be the sort of mistake that the Weyrleaders would be talking about in the Weyrwoman’s quarters at night. Even more worried, and more determined, now than she was earlier, she fell into a restless sleep where she dreamed of the cold of between and the tears of those she loved if she ever failed Kizmeth.

Senrali slipped off the dance floor and away from her latest dance partner - yet another bronze rider whose name she forgot five seconds after he’d said it. She moved into the shadows of the corridor that led to the Lower Caverns living areas.

"Escaping so soon?" a voice said, making her jump. She turned around and squinted into the shadows. The owner of the voice moved forward so she could see him.

"Oh!" she said then burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh good, I’m glad it’s you. I thought for a moment you were another bronze rider out to woo me. Why are you hiding back here?"

He grinned, his teeth showing up very white in the dark. "Waiting to rescue you from all those prospective suitors. Anyone with eyes could see that you’re bored out of your mind. I’m sorry but that smile you had plastered on your face looked like it was set in stone."

She let out a gusty sigh. "It feels almost like it," she said, massaging her face. "I have years of this to look forward to. Just because I’ve graduated people seem to think I’m about ready to go jumping into the nearest bed!" The disgust in her voice came through clearly. "I’m sorry, that’s not very weyrwomanly of me, complaining about a mere half an evening. They’ve all been passable dancers, I really have nothing to complain about."

"But let me guess - all they talk about it how fine Kizmeth is looking and how very sleek and strong she is, and then they go on to talk about the virtues of their own bronzes."

Senrali gaped, then closed her mouth. "Right on! How did you know?"

A’mid gave her a twisted sort of grin. "Bronze riders would do anything to win a gold flight. And it’s not that long until Kizmeth rises to mate. It may not be a flight for the senior queen, but it’s still a gold flight."

She cocked her head to one side and tapped her foot. "Brown riders have no chance, do they?" she asked, hoping she kept her voice neutral.

He didn’t dare reach out to touch her but she saw that he wanted to. He folded his arms to keep them where they belonged then took a deep breath. "The chances of a brown winning are very slim, considering the number of bronzes he’d be up against."

"But the queen chooses, doesn’t she?" she asked.

"To a certain point, I guess. These questions would be best directed at the Weyrwoman, Senrali. I’m hardly an expert at queen flights." His expression was unreadable and that frustrated her. But she schooled her own expression as she had been taught and looked him in the eyes.

"Thank you for your company, brown rider. I’d best get back to the dance," she said and turned away.

A’mid grabbed her arm as she turned and she faced him again in surprise. He dropped her arm as if he’d been burned and cleared his throat. But his eyes looked straight at hers. "Senrali, please choose someone before the flight. You don’t have to take a weyrmate, not even after the flight, but don’t go into your first flight a virgin." He blushed deeply but didn’t look away.

Slowly, and with a blush of her own, she nodded and turned away again. So she was to choose someone for a trial run before the real thing, she thought. That somewhat disgusted her. The moment she entered the dance area again she was assailed by various men who wanted to dance with her. To do more than just dance with her.

Damn A’mid. He had to ruin what was already a boring evening for her by making her think seriously about what was going on. It was so much easier when she could ignore the finer details. How was she expected to look straight-faced at any of her dance partners or those who crowded around her between dances when all she could now think about were them standing hopefully around her while Kizmeth blooded her kill - and then what would happen afterwards. He expected her to spend the night with someone before hand. She didn’t want just someone 'breaking her in', as they no doubt called it in their own little bragging circles.

"You know that new gold rider?" a voice in her head bragged. "I had her. I had her good. And to top it off, she was fresh! Can you believe it?" She scowled and broke away from her current dance partner.

"I’m tired," she said curtly and turned on her heel, stalking out of the Lower Caverns and towards her weyr. No one followed her, it wasn’t done. She was glad. She got to her weyr and stood watching Kizmeth sleep for a while. She passed the curtain into the sleeping chamber and stood staring at the bed. The bed where she’d give herself away to some bronze rider she probably wouldn’t even be aware of at the time. Eventually she moved towards the bed but only to grab her blanket and pillow. She’d sleep with Kizmeth tonight, it’d be warm enough.

A’mid cursed softly as she left alone. He only wanted to help her, to make it easier for her. He’d have to have a talk with Iraleigh, she could talk to Senrali about it. No doubt they had already gone over everything - everything mechanical that is, like "don’t let her eat - blood only." Nothing along the lines of "It’ll hurt."

He’d watched Senrali, he had to admit, and by watching her and eventually befriending her he’d learned a lot. He didn’t think she’d been mentally prepared enough for the flight. There was no doubt that she was interested in men but he’d watched what sort of company she kept, and noticed that most of her male friends were brown or blue riders. She was easily bored by the arrogance that often came hand-in-hand with Impressing a bronze. He’d also, with some carefully placed questions and comments, discovered that she had never been with a man before.

When she’d first arrived and Impressed Kizmeth he’d looked on her as a little sister. He was determined that she would have someone she could turn to who wasn’t in a position of power or rank. Someone more un-biased. Over the course of weyrling training she’d trimmed off the extra weight she had been carrying around and grown a few more inches - as well as filling out in other areas. He was reasonably sure that she was unaware of how very womanly she had become over the past 18 months. She was a girl when she arrived, someone he wanted to protect, and now…​ his feelings for her had changed.

He’d never regretted Impressing a brown, he’d never wanted Forisath to be any other colour. Not until now. It seemed that if he even thought he had a chance he might do something about it.

He slipped out of his hidey hole when he saw Iraleigh dance past and tapped her partner on the shoulder. "May I cut in?" he asked and the man bowed out gracefully.

Iraleigh raised an eyebrow but didn’t complain when he started leading her around the dance floor. "Is there a reason you interrupted my dance?" she asked. "He was kind of good-looking." She looked over his shoulder and waved, then looked back at him again.

"It’s about Senrali," he said, going straight to the point.

"Oh ho!" she laughed. "I see you aren’t immune to her innocent charm. She’s grown rather attractive hasn’t she? No longer the plump little girl she was."

He growled. "That’s just the point - she’s innocent. You, of all people, should know that being innocent for your first flight is a bad idea."

Iraleigh raised both eyebrows. "She hasn’t…​?"

"No."

"How do you know? She told us…​"

"A lie. She hasn’t, trust me. Please try and persuade her to choose someone. She won’t stand for manipulation but a nice blunt talk might just work. Please Iraleigh?" He watched her thinking for a moment and she bit her lip. She was no longer looking at him but at some distant point to the right of his shoulder.

"She doesn’t have long. Persuading her will have the opposite of the desired effect. I don’t want her to hate it," she said finally.

"Neither do I."

They bowed and curtsied at the end of the dance. A’mid took her hand and led her off.

"I’ll try," Iraleigh told him as they reached the edge of the floor.

"Thank you," he said and gave her hand a squeeze before he let go.

"Thank you for pointing it out," she said and he nodded before turning away.

"Have you chosen yet?"

Senrali didn’t jump this time but kept walking towards the Lower Caverns. A’mid pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against and followed her. "It’s only about two months 'til she rises," he pointed out.

"You think I don’t know that?" Senrali snapped.

"So choose!" he said with a little more force than he intended. Iraleigh had decided that persistence was the only option left after her talk with the young gold rider hadn’t gone that well.

"I don’t have to," she snarled and turned around so suddenly that he nearly lost his balance in his attempt not to walk into her. "And even if I have what makes you think I would tell you? Or anyone else?"

"I thought…​"

"You don’t think. If you stopped and thought for even a moment you’d realise who I would choose if I could, A’mid." With that she walked off again, leaving him standing, stunned, unable to move.

She couldn’t mean…​?

"Forisath seems to think he could win," A’mid drawled, trailing a finger up Senrali’s arm to her shoulder and along her collar bone. "It’s happened before, just not very often."

"What?" Senrali said, trying to sit up but A’mid pushed her down again. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

He grinned, looking far too smug. "I got a little distracted. I also didn’t think you were interested, despite that question you threw at me at the dance."

Senrali rolled her eyes. Sometimes men were a little beyond her. "So I should have just thrown myself at you instead of sending signals I thought a watchwher could read."

He sighed and lay down beside her, pulling her to him. "What did you have to go and choose me for?" he asked.

"You were my friend before Kizmeth was mature."

He suddenly got an expression on his face she couldn’t decipher. "You think that’s the only reason men have been showing interest?" he asked, sounding astonished.

Why else? She thought, but kept that to herself. She shook her head and waited for his answer, curious, but her merely gave her a bemused smile and shook his head.

A’mid staggered out of Senrali’s weyr, oblivious to anyone around him. Later he wondered how he got down the stairs without breaking his neck. His mind was still caught up with Forisath and the disappointment was almost unbearable.

Slowly, he got his bearings. He’d wandered knee-deep into the lake. His mind was untangled from his dragon and became his own again. It was almost worse, at least his dragon was forgetting the disappointment. He sank to his knees in the water and let it lap around his waist. He felt someone lift him up and lead him out of the water and next thing he knew he was sitting and there was wine in front of him.

"What were you trying to do? Drown yourself?" the person who had dragged him out of the lake demanded.

He looked up and briefly registered L’rec, the Weyrleader. He looked down at the glass of wine and drained it. L’rec refilled it.

"Wasn’t trying to drown myself. Just found myself there. You’re not participating?" A’mid said.

L’rec shook his head. "Feluth has no interest in any dragon other than Tevaneth. Drink up. I stayed around this time because of you, A’mid. It’s not generally encouraged for brown riders to get involved with gold riders, but when it happens precautions must be taken." He refilled A’mid’s cup again and watched as the brown rider drained it. He then leaned across the table to make sure A’mid listened to the next bit.

"You need to seek relief."

A’mid was shocked. He didn’t want anyone other than Senrali, ever. How could he? He opened his mouth to protest but L’rec cut him off.

"You need to, you have to. If you want things to continue with Senrali."

A’mid drained another cup. It didn’t seem to be affecting him. "Why?" he asked hoarsely. He didn’t want to admit how much he wanted a woman right now.

"If you don’t , you will feel resentful or jealous that Senrali has been with someone else."

A’mid opened his mouth again but L’rec held up a finger. "You may not think it now but it will slip in. And she will feel bad because she will feel responsible for making you feel as you are now and while she was…​ working it off…​ you were here suffering alone. If you do seek relief there may still be some tension, but nothing compared to the other option."

A’mid felt the alcohol starting to kick in so he drank another. "I don’t want--" he began, but it didn’t sound convincing even to himself.

"Yes you do, man. A’mid, listen to me. Don’t think that you’d be using someone. No one expects unions after flights to be lasting or even in the slightest bit meaningful. You’ve done it before. It’s no different now," L’rec told him and refilled his cup again. He waved over more wine.

"It is different," A’mid said. He was finding it harder to string words together without slurring.

"Why? How?" L’rec asked. "Because you love her? It’s not about that now."

A’mid felt the cry of triumph through his dragon who had been listening in on the flight and closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands. He felt a hand on his arm. When he looked up it wasn’t L’rec but a woman he’d taken relief from before; a rather attractive dark-haired and leggy woman. He looked around for L’rec.

"He’s gone. But he said you needed me," the woman said, taking his hand.

The wine was making everything so confusing and at the same time somewhat clearer, too. He needed a woman and here was a woman.

"Yes," he said and gripped her hand. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine she was Senrali.

Senrali, panting, rolled out of bed and onto the floor and stayed there. She pulled a sheet down with her and tucked it around her. She sat there untangling her mind from her dragon’s and catching her breath. It had been the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced but left her feeling dirty. She knew, without looking, that it wasn’t A’mid and that was enough for her.

"Senrali?" The man in her bed sat up and looked around for her. His expression became concerned when he saw where she was. "I’m sorry, are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

"I’m fine," she said, her voice sounding like someone else’s. "I’m fine…​" She focused on him and dredged his name up from somewhere, "…​ P’had."

He didn’t look reassured. "You shouldn’t be on the floor. Look, I’ll get up and dressed and you should get off the floor and back into bed," he said and cast around for his clothes.

"No, you do what you like," she said, getting up. She didn’t know why she bothered covering herself up considering what they’d just done, but she did. She didn’t want to get back in that bed until she’d thoroughly cleaned everything. Even the sheet around her made her skin crawl but modesty kept it on her. She felt so clumsy and she tried to remember how to walk properly as she made for the bathing chamber in the back partition of her weyr.

"Senrali…​"

"Yes?" she asked, turning around and raising an eyebrow, dignity restored.

"Did you choose me?"

"No," she said frankly and disappeared into the bathing chamber. When she emerged he was gone along with all his clothes. She dressed and took everything - clothes, bedclothes - in a sack to the laundry.

She ignored the desperate stares of those who had decided to get drunk instead of seek company and didn’t dare look around for A’mid in case she saw him drinking away his sorrows. She dumped her sack in the queue.

What was she supposed to do now? She felt extremely tired but didn’t want to go back to her bed. She leaned against the wall then slid down until she was sitting on the floor. She didn’t notice the Headwoman come in. It could have been because her eyes were closed at the time.

"I thought I’d find you here. Mainly because you didn’t come back out, mind you," Tirena said. "We’ve got a spare room that you can get to without going through the Caverns from here," she suggested, holding out her hand.

Senrali gratefully took the offered hand and hauled herself up. "Thank you, that’d be good," she said, feeling groggy. Had she drifted off? She couldn’t remember.

"Come on, it’s just through here," Tirena said and guided Senrali to a room without memories.

Senrali was doing something she hadn’t done since Hatching day: she wrung her hands. She was sitting on the edge of her bed later that evening. She had been given the rest of the day off after an embarrassing visit to the Healer to make sure she hadn’t been hurt by that morning’s 'activities'. She’d been told she was just fine, but the doctor also had other news for her.

She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees in an attempt to stop her right foot from tapping, her sandal making a flap-flap noise on the stone floor. She stopped the tapping but it wasn’t long before the silence drove her nuts so she gave in to the habit.

Where was he? Was he ashamed of her now that she’d been with someone else? Had he lost interest because Forisath hadn’t caught Kizmeth, gone for some green rider that he had more chance with? She couldn’t really imagine it, if she really thought about it. His affection for her seemed far too genuine. She didn’t know where to look for him, didn’t really want to look for him in case she walked in on something embarrassing. But surely he would have emerged by now? P’had would be in the Lower Caverns enjoying himself and gloating, no doubt. Wasn’t A’mid interested in how she was?

She had no idea and all she could do was wait. As she saw it, A’mid had more to deal with - the disappointment of the flight, the knowledge that she’d spent such a passionate and intimate experience with someone else. All she had to worry about was if he came back to her. All!

Kizmeth requests that you go and talk to her rider, Forisath told A’mid. I think you should go, too.

Did Kizmeth request or Senrali? A’mid asked, pausing in his pacing.

There was a pause. Kizmeth. She hasn’t told her rider that she has talked to me. Another pause. Her rider is in her weyr. She is alone.

I don’t know what to say to her! A’mid said, starting up his pacing again. He cursed as he rammed his shins into a chair he didn’t see.

Try turning a glow, Forisath suggested, sounding amused. Grumbling, A’mid did so.

"Senrali, I…​" he began to himself, trying out speeches. "I don’t know what to say, Fori!" he cried and sat down heavily on the bed. He buried his fingers in his hair and stared at the floor.

I order you to get down here and talk to my rider, a feminine voice said in his head. By the way it resembled Senrali’s voice he guessed that it was Kizmeth talking directly to him. His own dragon’s whimper confirmed this theory. He was shocked to standing up.

Please come out, A’mid, Forisath said, sounding worried. I can’t disobey.

"Does she want to talk to me?" A’mid asked.

Get down here, Kizmeth said very impatiently.

"I can’t argue, can I?" A’mid said, emerging from behind the curtain. Forisath was swaying from one foreleg to the other and when his rider emerged he lowered his front half so that his rider could mount fast.

A’mid didn’t think Forisath could have gotten them to the queen’s weyrledge any faster. He crooned apologetically to the queen for taking so long and Kizmeth nuzzled her reassurance, watching A’mid as he walked past. He paused in front of the curtain, unsure of how to proceed.

Senrali had given up sitting still and had started doing circuits of her weyr. She straightened up things, put things away, took them out again, ordered them and put them away again. The other gold riders seemed to think that leaving her to be alone was good for her but she was slowly driving herself up the wall. Kizmeth certainly didn’t need any more oiling. Her concentration wasn’t enough to keep going on the Records she’d been assigned to. So she tidied her weyr until it was spotless.

She heard Kizmeth greet someone outside and paused in her circuit of the room. She listened as boots approached the curtain separating Kizmeth’s couch from her sleeping area and then they stopped. And that was it.

Who is it? she asked Kizmeth, curious and unwilling to presume.

Why don’t you ask out loud? her dragon answered. Sometimes getting a straight answer out of Kizmeth was like getting blood out of a stone.

She walked up to the curtain and pulled it aside.

"Hello," she said and gave herself a mental kick.

"Hello," A’mid said back, sounding very uncertain. He looked like he expected her to start yelling. They stood there for a very long awkward moment. He didn’t look her in the eyes but kept them respectfully downcast.

"Please, come in," Senrali said, falling back on formality. A’mid entered her weyr and stood in the middle of the floor, waiting. "Take a seat," she said and he sat down stiffly. She took a deep breath. "So…​"

"I took a woman to my bed today," he blurted out and the astonished expression that followed said he didn’t mean to.

"What?" she breathed. How could he? She didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, but he could have chosen to abstain. Others had, why couldn’t he? She saw his gaze fixed on her foot and stopped tapping it.

Don’t be selfish, Kizmeth told her rider firmly. How could you expect him to do that while you were…​

"Shut up!" she yelled, turning to the curtain behind which Kizmeth was lying. She turned back to the petrified A’mid. "I’m sorry. Kizmeth is just acting my conscience again and she tends to forget that I have one of my own. It just takes a little longer to kick in." She realised she couldn’t hold that against him. She was actually almost glad he had done it. For the first time that day she felt clean again. "Thank you, A’mid, for telling me."

A’mid seemed to hold his breath. "You forgive me?"

"What’s to forgive? I should have remembered what Renate told me: Mating flights are completely separate from personal relationships. Forgive me for turning all Hold-bred on you," Senrali said, taking a step towards him.

He stood up and gave her a hesitant smile. Carefully, he reached out a touched her cheek. "Time to start again?" he asked.

She nodded and reached up to pull his head down and kissed him. She broke away and looked him in the eyes.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, worried.

"I’ve got some news for you…​"

"What?"

"I’m pregnant."

"What?" he said, straightening up in surprise. "How do you know so soon?"

Senrali burst out laughing. "It’s yours, you dimglow! I’m five weeks."

He looked absolutely dumbstruck, then he started grinning like a fool. He pulled her into a bone-crushing hug then spun her around. She didn’t want to break this unexpected high so kept her other news to herself and enjoyed basking in his good favour. After all, the Healer had said it was only a possibility.

Senrali woke up from a restless sleep. She felt wide awake as she stared at the ceiling of her weyr. She wondered what time it was. The decided chill in the air told her that it was still early. What had woken her up?

Kizmeth? she asked.

Good morning, her dragon replied absently. She was probably turning her eggs again. It was a small relief that Kizmeth at least didn’t require her rider to sleep in the Hatching Grounds. She knew just from that short reply that Kizmeth wouldn’t be a great conversationalist today. Leaving her dragon to concentrate on whatever she was doing with the eggs, Senrali ducked into the bathing chamber and slipped into the water. Despite the warm water she couldn’t relax and had the shortest bath she’d had in a long time.

She was glad that she was assigned to oversee the Stone Flame class today. It would give her the opportunity to work off the extra energy she found herself with. She was sorely tempted to do the confidence course, through the woods outside the Weyr kept specifically for training purposes, along with the complaining weyrlings.

"Are you all right?" M’san asked after the class and their Assistant Weyrlingmaster had left. She looked over at the tall Weyrlingmaster and twisted her mouth.

"I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin any moment if I don’t do something," she replied.

He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. "Explain further?"

Senrali waved her hands in the air. "I don’t know. I can’t seem to stay still. I feel…​ argh."

"How’s Kizmeth?" he asked quietly.

"She’s fine. Probably turning her eggs again," Senrali said.

"Check," M’san insisted, still watching her with that studying look she found so disconcerting as a weyrling. She reached out to Kizmeth’s mind and felt it buzzing. That buzz that was driving her to distraction, she just hadn’t thought that it came from her dragon. Kizmeth’s whole focus was concentrated on the eggs, but she wasn’t moving them any more. She focussed on M’san again, speechless, and he nodded. "The other dragons will pick it up over the course of the day but Kizmeth knows already."

"Oh," Senrali said lamely. She recovered and straightened up. "I should go and inform the Weyrleaders and the Headwoman, then. When do they start humming?"

"Usually when the eggs begin to show signs of movement. I’ll stay here to inform the weyrlings. Go on," M’san said.

She turned and made haste towards the Weyrwoman’s office. Kizmeth was in no mind to pass on messages. She knocked on the door out of habit but didn’t wait for an answer before entering. "They’ll be hatching today," she said to the stunned Weyrwoman.

Renate left her things where they were and stood up. "Congratulations," she said, coming out from behind her desk and giving the younger weyrwoman a brief hug. "You go tell the Headwoman and I’ll tell L’rec. Tevaneth has already passed the message on to Iraleigh and Carelan. I want to tell L’rec in person. A few days earlier than expected, but then Kizmeth has been very conscientious in turning the eggs to make sure they’re heated properly." The Weyrwoman winked and Senrali grinned and rolled her eyes.

Apart from making herself presentable and telling the Headwoman, so she could begin preparing a Hatching Feast, Senrali had nothing else to do to keep her mind off her energy. Other riders would be assigned by the Weyrleaders and their wingleaders to pick up guests when the dragons started humming. The candidates would be busy getting clean and dressed so that they would be ready later and there would be no rush.

She paced her weyr, her hatching gown - which she had commissioned especially for this event - flowing around her legs when she stopped and turned to go the other way again. She’d spent some time getting her shoulder-length hair to stay up where she wanted it and the frustration of having to deal with the tangly mess didn’t help. She was considering cutting it short, but A’mid liked it longer.

"You’ll wear a hole in the floor if you keep going like that," P’had told her from the doorway of her weyr.

She stopped and smiled ruefully at the bronze rider. She noticed that he, too, was already dressed up. "You’re looking good," she said. "Come on in. Why haven’t you been drafted as transport?"

He grimaced as he came in and sat himself at her desk. "As Simporth is the sire of this clutch, and too busy preoccupied with the way Kizmeth is acting, I’ve been spared. I thought I’d come in and lend you some company as A’mid drew transport duty and M’san said you were about ready to climb walls unaided."

"It certainly felt that way!" she said, grateful for P’had’s company. She’d gotten to know him a bit better and found that he wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined, if somewhat humourless. His attempt at humour just then told her how nervous he actually was, as he generally looked down on levity at serious occasions.

"I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I haven’t been to a Hatching before," Senrali said and flopped down onto the bed.

"But it’s Kizmeth’s first clutch and therefore special to you," P’had pointed out.

They’re hatching!

She heard Kizmeth’s voice in her head a moment before she felt the thrumming begin through the soles of her thick shoes. P’had and her looked at each other and grinned.

"My lady," P’had said, standing up and holding out his arm. Senrali stood, too, and tucked her arm through his. As partners - lifemates to the dam and sire of this clutch - they went to the Hatching Grounds to stand on the Sands near Kizmeth, who was watching her eggs anxiously. She suspected that P’had wouldn’t mind their partnership to be more than show, but that he respected her relationship with A’mid.

How are you, dearest? she asked Kizmeth.

My sons and daughters will Impress today. I am pleased. They will be with good partners and will be taught to fly Thread and I can hunt and bathe again, her gold replied, the longest speech she’d heard from her queen since she clutched.

Senrali smiled. I am glad. It will be good to fly Fall again. Kizmeth’s answer was wordless but expressed the same eagerness and affection her rider felt at that thought. She watched the Hatching Grounds fill up with people arriving on foot from the bowl or directly by dragonwing.

Finally the candidates, all dressed in white robes and barefoot (Senrali winced), were herded in and arranged in a semi-circle around the eggs. They all gave the expected bows to Kizmeth and Senrali then stood, transfixed, watching the eggs rock. They hardly shuffled. Senrali herself didn’t recall much discomfort from the hot Sands when she stood for Impression, she had been far too fixated on the eggs, and she suspected the same held true for these candidates, too. They’d hurt later, though!

That thought was interrupted as the first crack appeared in one of the smaller eggs near the edge. The dragons stopped humming and the crowd gasped. Then the humming increased.

The little egg rocked violently and cracked more. Another egg started cracking, too, near the centre. Both cracked open so suddenly she was never sure which one broke first. Two healthy little dragons were born; one a light blue and the other a rich brown.

They’re so perfect, Senrali said.

They’re yours as much as mine. Healthy babes for you, Kizmeth said with unexpected tenderness.

Thank you, love, Senrali replied, trying to keep tears out of her eyes. Her’s hadn’t even really been a child yet, so she didn’t know why she felt its loss so keenly, but she did.

Some dragons also do not form fully in the shell and never hatch. It is natural, Kizmeth told her rider, worried.

Senrali let herself smile at her dragon’s logic. Yes, love, was all she said. She sighed and watched the hatchlings again.

The blue and the brown sought out their lifemates as others started cracking and hatching. With only thirteen eggs all in a hurry to hatch it was over. Senrali hurried to count the dragonets and take in the balance of colours. All had hatched and Impressed, the colours were well balanced, perhaps a little in favour of the heavier ones. The newly Impressed pairs were deftly led out by the Weyrlingmaster and one of his assistants. The candidates left standing were already being comforted by their families or Lower Caverns staff ready to take over those whose families couldn’t make it or were weyrbred.

Senrali let out the breath she wasn’t aware of holding and turned to P’had. He had a very bemused sort of smile on his face as he watched the last of the dragonets exit the Hatching Grounds. "Thank you for standing on the hot sand with me," she said. "I’ll be joining the festivities once I’ve made sure Kizmeth is sufficiently fed."

"Wonderful Hatching!" came a call not too far from them. A’mid stopped short of them and bowed to Kizmeth. "Congratulations Kizmeth on a healthy cluch," he said, then turned to Senrali with a large smile.

Only by thinking of what Kizmeth had told her just before, about the hatchlings being her children, too, was she able to return the smile to the man she had been unable to bear a child. She had discovered an unwanted maternal side to herself and was trying hard to deny it.

You won’t know if you just give up. You can hardly try again if you don’t invite him to your bed anymore! Kizmeth interjected.

Senrali grimaced. "You’ll have to wait until I come back to congratulate me properly. Kizmeth is hungry and will be unbearable until I feed her."

Fine, use me as an excuse to run! Kizmeth said with an audible sniff, but she walked towards the entrance to the Grounds anyway. For your information I am hungry and will therefore allow you to get away with it.

Senrali grinned and followed her dragon out of the Grounds. See? I was right. You are unbearable.

Kizmeth huffed and lowered herself so that Senrali could mount and flew them to the Hunting Grounds, depositing her rider at the edge and going at the stock with gusto.

Senrali took this time to relax before she had to be formal all evening again. When Kizmeth was sated she made sure her gold was clean (without resorting to a full wash) and comfortably asleep in her weyr. She knew the new weyrlings would be doing similar for their own dragons before being allowed to the feast.

The wonderful smells emanating from the Lower Caverns made her mouth water and reminded her that she hadn’t eaten much at all that day. She straightened and checked her dress before entering into the chaos.

"Can I come in?"

Senrali’s head snapped up. When had she fallen asleep? She hoped she hadn’t drueled on the records. A quick inspection proved that they were dry.

Kizmeth? she asked, confused as to what had woken her up.

The Weyrwoman is at the door, Kizmeth told her. I didn’t want to wake you up when you fell asleep. Once again, her dragon had anticipated her question. Sometimes it was very hard to get anything out of Kizmeth and other times she spilled out information you didn’t know you wanted to know until she said it.

"Come in, Renate," Senrali called and blinked sleepily as the curtains opened and Renate leaned into the room.

She didn’t come all the way in but stood half-standing behind the stone wall. "I’m just popping past to see how you are. You’ve seemed quite tired lately but I haven’t had a chance to see if you’re all right."

"Tired? No, I feel fine," she said, stiffling a yawn. Why did they always come right on cue?

Renate gave her a skeptical grin. "Not tired at all, I see," she said.

Senrali resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at the Weyrwoman. She tried to think of a polite way of saying 'in or out, you’re causing a draft'. "Why don’t you come in? You must be getting cold standing at the door like that."

"In other words, you’re getting cold because I’m holding the curtain open. I can take a hint," Renate said and stepped into the room.

"Stop guessing right like that, it’s unnerving," Senrali said, but her attention was caught by the fact that Renate was still holding one hand behind her back. "What are you hiding?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager or interested.

"You’ll just have to be patient to find out." She turned around when Senrali got up and tried to look behind her. "No cheating!" Senrali sat down again, this time on the bed, and waited.

"Now," Renate said, giving Senrali a look she couldn’t interpret. "We’ve decided that you deserve this that I am about to give you. I don’t want any protests…​" She then took what looked like a small odd-shaped pot out from behind her back. Senrali instantly recognised it for what it was and stood up in surprise.

"But…​" she began then paused when she saw Renate raise an eyebrow with a clear 'what-did-I-say?' expression. "Thank you!" she said instead. She lifted the lid and looked at the little firelizard egg inside, nestled in heated sand. "Do you know what colour it is?"

Renate shook her head. "It was one of the bigger ones, so I think it’s a bronze. L’rec thinks it’ll be a brown. We’ve got a little bet going. Better be a bronze or you’ll be buying me snacks at the next Gather. I won’t say what I get if I win, that’s not for impressionable young minds," she said with a wink.

Senrali decided that was a little more information than she really needed, but smiled back anyway. Renate continued talking so she didn’t have to come up with an answer. "It’ll be kept in with the other eggs, but I wanted to bring it to you to show you. I’d better take it back now."

Why do you need a little firelizard? Kizmeth asked. Firelizards were a pest as far as she was concerned.

I don’t. It’s a gift, I can hardly refuse it! Senrali replied. She waved her goodbye to Renate, who nodded, understanding the expression of a rider talking to her dragon. You’re not jealous are you?

Kizmeth gave an indignant huff. Hardly. I’m much better than one of those little pests.

Senrali laughed and turned to look at the curtain between her and her dragon and stopped. There was A’mid, leaning against the entrance to her weyr and watching her with an expression she couldn’t put a name to. "How do you do that?" she demanded, surprised. She hadn’t even heard him come up! Why didn’t you tell me here was there? she asked her dragon.

You didn’t ask, Kizmeth said, infuriatingly.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to get some dinner," A’mid said, unruffled by her response to his presence. "You need to eat, you know." His eyes narrowed as he looked carefully at her face. "You need more sleep, too."

"Look that bad, do I?" she asked, not liking right now how he could see right through her.

He smiled. "You never look bad. Just tired."

"I had food," she said, waving her hand in the general direction of her desk where there were still some plates.

A’mid raised an eyebrow. "You had food this morning. I’m not sure if you realise what time it is…​"

"Who are you, my mother?" she asked, and immediately regretted that outburst. She was getting irratable, which meant she did indeed need more sleep than she was getting. But she had been unable to sleep, and Renate was giving her less and less work in order to encourage her to sleep but instead it kept her awake longer because she had nothing to do to send herself to sleep. She felt like she hadn’t slept in months and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had more than an hours solid sleep.

"I’m a concerned friend.

"I’m going to leave when Kizmeth rises. I know she’s near, and I just wanted you to know. I’ll take myself off to the Hold, far away from where I can feel it," A’mid said.

Senrali rested her chin on his chest and blinked sleepily up at him. It had been so nice to be able to sleep in, why did he have to get all serious? "You know I don’t mind if you go to the Lower Caverns," she said, not quite awake.

A’mid stroked her hair. She’d have to get it cut again; the curly mass was getting too long again. "I know. But I’d prefer just to get away," he said and kissed her forehead.

Senrali grinned and laid her cheek against his chest again, looking at his toes and the desk beyond, against the wall. "Just don’t do anything silly, all right?"

"I won’t. Although there is a nice cold lake where I can go drown myself," he teased, and she gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Just give me enough warning, and I’ll be all right," he said.

All of a sudden she stiffened and her eyes glazed over. A deafening screech came from somewhere outside. "Too late," she murmured. The next moment she was out of bed and grabbing clothes. She missed the leg of her pants a few times, caught up in Kizmeth’s blood lust. She then grabbed A’mid’s shirt and chucked it over her head and ran out barefoot.

A’mid heaved himself out of bed and got into his clothes in a more ordered fashion. She’d taken his shirt and he could hardly wear one of hers so he just threw his riding jacked on and was still doing it up as he emerged into the morning light. He looked over at Kizmeth then looked away. He could still make it.

Here we go again, L’rec thought as he heard the unmistakeable scream of defiance of a mating gold. He felt a slight pull, a tug of desire. Feluth may not want to chase any other queen but Tevaneth but the instinctive pull was strong for gold flights.

He ran out of his weyr and looked up to see several golds disappear between, then looked over to see Senrali running out of her weyr looking as if she’d dressed in a hurry. Her shirt was untucked and looked far too large for her. He looked back towards the entrance to her weyr and saw A’mid emerging, closing up his riding jacket over a bare chest.

His eyes were drawn back to where Senrali and the growing group of bronze riders (and a few keen brown riders) were now gathered near the feeding grounds. Down amongst the herd was a very gold Kizmeth, blooding her kill between snarls in her riders direction and derisive calls at the bronzes now crowding around the edges of the pens, their muscles taut, ready to launch when she did. Kizmeth strutted around, snapping at her admirers, then took a short hop and landed on another beast, her third. One of the bronzes launched then settled again. Kizmeth hissed at him and he hissed back.

Half way through blooding her most recent kill she pushed off into the air so suddenly that L’rec rocked back on his heels. He pulled himself, with some effort, out of his trance-like state. Feluth was sitting on his ledge, eyes bright orange, but not chasing. L’rec looked around to see where A’mid had gone. He first scanned the group surrounding Senrali and didn’t see him.

"Oh no," he breathed. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he saw what had to be A’mid and Forisath taking off.

Stop them! L’rec said and waited, heart pounding, for Forisath to turn around and land. The silence in his head was deafening.

They are not listening, Feluth told him after what seemed like an eternity.

"Too late," he whispered just as A’mid and Forisath went between. It took nearly ten breaths for the keening to start.

Something she couldn’t describe pulled Senrali out of her intense bond with Kizmeth. The roaring in her ears covered the sounds of the keening. If the hands of those standing nearest her hadn’t caught her she would have fallen. She was vaguely aware that people were saying things. Confused, she looked around. The roaring died down only to be replaced by the ear-piercing moan. The voices also became clearer.

"…​back to Kizmeth!"

Someone grabbed her face and turned her to look at him. Simporth. No - his rider. P’had.

"Senrali. Don’t worry about what’s going on here. Get back to Kizmeth! She needs you. There’s nothing you can do here."

She blinked, but the words slowly sunk in. She shuddered, closed her eyes and gave in to Kizmeth’s pull again.

When things were quiet again and their breathing had died down, P’had turned his head to look at Senrali. She was staring straight up. "Senrali--"

"You know the drill. You can have a bath if you want but please leave before A’mid comes back," she said, her voice sounding quite bland, monotone.

She didn’t know? How could she not know? Panic grabbed him. He didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but he couldn’t just lie to her. "Senrali, A’mid--"

"I know." He saw her lips compress and a tear trickle down her cheek and he looked away. It seemed wrong to watch her cry, but he didn’t know what else to do. Did he just leave, or did he stay and try to comfort her? Anger crept into her voice and she answered his question. "Bronze rider, just go!"

He could take a hint. He got out of bed and picked up his clothes, slipping on only enough to be decent before leaving. He didn’t look at Senrali the whole time and he had the feeling that she was ignoring him.

L’rec stopped him as he got outside and gestured for them to move away from her weyr. "Does she know?" L’rec asked when they were far enough away.

"Yes."

"Did you tell her?" He couldn’t tell if it was shock or admiration in L’rec’s voice.

"No. She knew. For a moment it seemed she didn’t but she does."

L’rec nodded, looking very relieved. "All right. We’ll leave her to it. She’s not expected to do anything until tomorrow and Kizmeth is her best company right now."

Senrali spent the whole day in her weyr in a state of shock. Come evening she came back to herself and slipped out under cover of darkness. She’d dressed in dark clothes and put a scarf over her mousey brown hair. She slipped into the Lower Caverns by another entrance and made her way to the creche. She found the cot she wanted and stared down at the little form in there, fast asleep. The girls must have felt her because she woke and stared up at her as if she were looking at a stranger. That wouldn’t do. She wanted Marima to know who her mother was. From now on she would make an extra effort to spend time with her daughter - her and A’mid’s. It was the least she could do. Next to the cot of her only daughter, the only child she hadn’t lost, she stayed until she fell asleep, dry-eyed.

Renate looked up from her desk as Senrali came in. "You have to let go," she said without any precursor. There was no need, Senrali knew exactly why she was here and exactly what the topic of conversation was.

"I have," she assured the Weyrwoman in what she hoped was a convincing tone.

Renate looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "No, you’re holding it all inside. I can see it eating you from the inside out."

Senrali suddenly felt a rush of anger. Who was she, a head doctor? Her mother? "You’re wrong. Don’t presume you know me and what I think, I feel."

Renate sighed and looked down at her work again, but her stylus remained still in her hand. She looked up at Senrali again and her eyes looked sad. "You’re right, you’re a mystery. I have no idea what you feel anymore. You were on your way to becoming a very good weyrwoman but you’ve closed up now."

Senrali all of a sudden didn’t want to discuss this any more. "It’s behind me. Leave it there."

"Only if you do," Renate challenged.

"I have." Senrali still remained standing.

Renate put down her stylus and clasped her hands together in front of her on the table. "It’s interfering with your work. You need to grieve."

"A weyrwoman has no time for grief," Senrali said in the monotone voice she’d recently adopted when she didn’t want to show emotion. "She must be stronger than that. If I grieve every time someone dies I’ll never do anything else."

Renate seemed to explode. "He was your weyrmate! You’re allowed to grieve for him. You could be so strong only if you admit where you’re weak." The last part came out almost pleading.

Senrali turned back to the door. "I’m not weak anywhere," she said and walked out.

"Hello?"

P’had looked up from the straps he’d been oiling. His eyebrows went up to see who was standing in the entrance to his weyr. "Senrali, what--?"

"Shh," she said and approached him. She sat down on the edge of his desk took the riding straps out of his limp hands. "I don’t want to talk."

"But--" he said, surprised at this odd behaviour.

She put a finger to his lips. "Please."

"So, what--?" he said, his lips moving against her finger. She moved to sit on his lap instead, wrapped her arms around his neck and started nibbling somewhere behind his ear. "Oh!"

"This doesn’t mean anything."

P’had blinked. She came in, jumped him, and it didn’t mean anything? He wasn’t quite sure what to think. He figured he’d go with a safe answer for now. "All right."

"I don’t want anyone but Simporth to ever catch Kizmeth," Senrali said, surprising him further.

All right? he thought, very confused. That didn’t mean anything but she was saying that she wanted his dragon to be the only one to fly hers. She wanted him to be the only one she saw right after a mating flight. Surely it had to mean something? How desperately he wanted it to mean something. Why else choose him? He looked at her but she was staring straight up at the ceiling of his weyr.

"You understand? Others might expect something. Might want something," she said finally, when his silence dragged on too long.

P’had propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her face. Her eyes met his. "You think I don’t?" he asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

Her brow wrinkled and she looked up at him, confused as he’d been earlier. "But you’ve never pushed me."

P’had gave her a lop-sided smile. "You had a weyrmate."

Her expression turned from confusion to anger in a second. "Don’t push me."

He saw that he went too far and retracted his hand. It stung a little, too. "All right. Sorry." Sorry for what, though, he thought. Sorry for loving you? He knew that would be the last thing she wanted to hear right now so he kept quiet and lay back down, joining Senrali in ceiling watching.

This scene reminded Senrali of another one. She walked in to Renate’s office and the Weyrwoman looked up, stylus paused in her hand. This time, though, there was a smile on Renate’s face. "I’m glad your work is picking up again."

Senrali was stunned into a "Thank you."

"You’re doing all right, personally?"

"Yes."

Renate seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. After a small silence she raised an eyebrow and probed further. "Not going to elaborate?"

Senrali didn’t answer, she let her silence speak for her.

Renate heaved a big sigh and looked somewhat miffed at the lack of response. "All right. Well, your performance has gone up to 'good', but I know you can be 'brilliant'. Something’s still holding you back."

This old thing again, Senrali thought. "Nothing’s holding me back. I’ll work harder."

"I wish you would talk about it," Renate said. She was usually a lot more tactful than this. Senrali must really be getting on her nerves to elicit such direct questions. But she was working her hardest to not let anything interfere with her work. There was nothing to talk about that she couldn’t handle herself. She’d just have to make sure that in the future her work was nothing less than perfect.

"There’s nothing to talk about."

P’had stormed into the office where Renate was starting to feel she was going to spend the rest of her life if people didn’t start cooperating with her. He pointed at her and started talking. "You’re working her into the ground!"

She smiled, which she could see infuriated him, and said in a sweet voice, "Hello, nice to see you, too. I take it we’re talking about our dear Senrali? I was hoping someone would come forward and talk to me. I’m completely in the dark." She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, looking expectantly at the irate bronze rider.

"She’s determined to live up to your expectations," P’had continued.

Renate waved him into a chair and leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I know she can be brilliant. She’s got so much potential. I’m wondering if I should transfer her out."

P’had got up out of the chair he had just sat down in. He looked murderous. "She hasn’t had enough time!"

Renate let some bit creep into her voice. She would not be talked to by a bronze rider in that fashion. "How should I know, bronze rider? She’s not talking to me! Perhaps you could enlighten me?" She leaned back again.

P’had waved his hands in the air while he fought for words. "It’s only been two months. She still gets confused sometimes and thinks he’s there, late at night when she’s tired." He sat down in the chair again and looked suddenly very tired.

Renate was more than a little surprised at that little insight. She hoped that was the extent of Senrali’s delusions. If she started to act as if A’mid was still alive they might have a problem. "And you encourage this?"

P’had looked outraged and hurt. "Of course not!" he snapped, and glared at her. She glared right back, and they sat like that for a while.

Renate was at the end of her tether. If neither P’had nor Senrali were going to help her with this she’d have to find a new placement for the young gold rider. "I’ve done all I can, bronze rider. We all know how stubborn she is."

A new voice piped up from the doorway, making both of them jump with guilt. "And we all know what happens when you talk about people behind their back. They find out eventually." Senrali stood, leaning against the door frame, looking severe.

"Senrali, I didn’t mean to--" Renate blushed red, already regretting what she’d said of the other gold rider. She was a good weyrwoman, but so sharding frustrating sometimes!

Senrali pushed off from the door and stood straight, fists clenched. She ignored the presence of P’had completely and was staring straight at Renate. "I promise you, my work will pick up if it kills me." She twitched her chin up, turned on her heel and walked away.

Renate looked at P’had, helpless. "Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that."

Renate took her seat on the left table of the conference room. She noticed that she was the last person to arrive but didn't offer any apologies. L'rec, however, gave her a disapproving look for keeping people waiting.

Acting Weyrwoman Kasienka, of North Ranges Weyr, stood and cleared her throat from her very central position - centre table, centre seat. "Now that we're all here," she started, and lapsed into a short silence, as if she didn't know how to go on. She certainly looked uncomfortable to Renate. "Merecca's death has left North Ranges Weyr in a... difficult... position. We are, ah, now down to just one gold rider - me - and I'll be the first to admit I don't really have the experience to keep the Weyr running at the high level that Merecca would expect. Not that we're in trouble," she was hasty to add. She didn't seem to be weak, though Renate, yet she looked a little lost amongst all these experienced Weyrleaders looking at her. "Everyone is very supportive and we're meeting our obligations. And I have no complaints about Acting Weyrleader D'ranel, he's a very good Wing --- Weyrleader, but I feel that we need a much stronger, more experienced Weyrwoman as senior, and that is why I'm here today." She looked unsure for a moment, looked at D'ranel and sat down again.

D'ranel stood. "So, if we could get on with this I'm sure people don't want to sit around here for too long. Could we first see the High Reaches Weyr candidate?" He sat down again and looked expectantly at the High Reaches Weyrleaders.

Leslina stood up and looked around. Renate made an effort to be looking elsewhere when Leslina's eyes passed by her. "We have nominated junior weyrwoman Ronika for the position of Senior Weyrwoman of North Ranges Weyr," she said, then looked around again as if daring people to challenge her choice before sitting down again.

A drudge near the door was motioned to go out and fetch Ronika. When they returned the young weyrwoman walked in, confident and almost strutting. She gave the assembled Weyrleaders a superior look and stopped in the centre of the room, smirking, absolutely sure of herself. Ronika had always made Renate uneasy and the usual desire to slap that grin off her face returned no matter how many times she saw her. She shifted back in her seat and tucked her fingers under the desk so she wouldn't claw marks into the nicely polished table.

Kasienka stood and Renate could see that she had trouble meeting Ronika's eyes, too. Ronika's smile turned scornful when she saw the Weyrwoman she was nominated to replace. "Junior weyrwoman Ronika," Kasienka said, looking like she'd finally settled on staring at a spot somewhere just to the left of Ronika.

"Acting Weyrwoman Kasienka," Ronika said, putting weird emphasis and pronunciation on the second syllable of Kasienka's name. Renate resisted the urge to scowl. She'd probably deliberately mispronounced the name, and the stress on that first word was a definite slur.

Kasienka shifted her weight and Renate wished she could somehow help the poor girl. She sure didn't envy her, having to stare down Ronika. The young Weyrwoman looked down at her notes on the table and began. "There are a few questions that you are required to answer so that we can fairly judge who should be voted... for." The sentence wasn't too bad, if only she hadn't looked up at Ronika and stumbled at the end.

"Go on," Ronika said, as if Kasienka needed permission to continue questioning.

"Firstly, how many Turns have you been a dragon rider?" Kasienka said, seeming to regain some sort of stand now that she could just fire off questions.

"Eight Turns last month. A little longer than you, I believe," Ronika replied and twitched her chin up.

"And still no advancement," Kasienka said, and by her expression it wasn't what she had intended to say. She cleared her throat but Ronika looked murderous. Renate cheered inwardly for that little barb. So the girl had claws, even if she was uncomfortable using them. Senrali would set that straight. Interesting how she was already thinking of Senrali as the North Ranges Weyrwoman. She hadn't even been called in yet!

Kasienka looked terribly worried about what she'd let slip. D'ranel didn't look impressed, neither did some of the other Weyrleaders. Especially not the High Reaches Weyrleaders! It was all Renate could do to keep from laughing.

The rest of the interview was uneventful in comparison. Ronika answered in the same tone of voice, slightly superior but most of all miffed. When she was dismissed she turned on her heel and stalked out, the drudge only just managed to get the door open in time but she still shot him a scowl, probably for being slow.

Kasienka sat down and she looked exhausted for a split second then recovered and sat up straight, casting a guilty sideways glance at D'ranel.

"And Telgar Weyr, who have you nominated?" D'ranel asked politely.

"We have nominated Senrali," Renate said before L'rec could open his mouth. He gave her a sharp sideways look. She'd explain to him later but for now looked as pleased as a firelizard after being stuffed.

Once again the drudge was sent out to summon the candidate and returned, closing the door firmly on the curious looks of those outside.

Senrali entered, paused as she looked around at the assembled, then walked the rest of the way into the chamber and stopped where everyone could see her clearly. Renate saw that she didn't hesitate to meet people's eyes and when Senrali met hers Renate winked at her protege. She was answered by a very small nod before Senrali's eyes moved on.

Kasienka stood up and cleared her throat. "Junior weyrwoman Senrali," she said, a bit high-pitched, as if she were worried about pronouncing it wrong.

"Acting Weyrwoman Kasienka," Senrali said in return, the right amount of respect in her voice, pronouncing Kasienka's name correctly.

Renate watched the two with interest. In her eyes Senrali looked much more confident and comfortable than Kasienka did. They went through the same standard questions that all candidates did: How long have you been a rider? What sort of duties have you been performing? For how long? And so on. Of course everyone had a copy of the performance reports, especially written up in duplicates for this occasion, but Renate was pleased with the way that Senrali answered.

When the Benden candidate was called in she answered well and presented a good case and Renate started to chew her lip. Ronika was no competition for Senrali, but Marila would give her a run for her money. She watched Marila very carefully, looking for any flaws, but she answered as flawlessly as Senrali had with none of the arrogance that Ronika had displayed.

Not every Weyr had elected a candidate, there were only those three in all. The debate as to who should get the position went on long after the interviews had finished. The Benden Weyrleaders led a good argument for their candidate and Renate tried to counter as best she could and do Senrali justice. Even L'rec jumped in with a good word or two. Leslina and R'sio, the High Reaches Weyrleaders, seemed to sense that their candidate was all but out of the running, and although they still tried to insert arguments for Ronika, their junior weyrwoman, the conversation eventually turned exclusively to Senrali and Marila.

Poor Kasienka was sitting back quietly, listening to everyone and obviously determined to make the right decision. Her vote counted for three points - the ones that would have belonged to each Weyrwoman not allowed to participate in the voting. Three votes also went to D'ranel, Acting Weyrleader of North Ranges, to replace the three Weyrleaders that would also have to leave the room when the voting commenced.

D'ranel, so silent up until now, called a halt to the discussions and motioned that the candidate's Weyrleaders should leave the room. Renate stood up and followed the others into the waiting area outside where the anxious candidates were waiting. Senrali looked up briefly then ignored them and stared at the wall with her foot tapping furiously, no doubt going over everything she said and heard in the chamber and finding faults.

Leslina and R'sio went to talk with Ronika who, after a few seconds of quiet words, glared at the other two candidates before returning to her quiet conversation. Marila, too, was having a low-voiced conversation with the Benden Weyrleaders.

"What did you go and do that for?" L'rec asked in a harsh whisper, grabbing her arm and pulling her to one side of the now closed door.

"Do what?" Renate said, although she knew.

"Nominate Senrali! I thought we'd agreed on Iraleigh?" He looked more confused and surprised than angry.

"Iraleigh has a level head on her shoulders and would make a good Weyrwoman - for Telgar. She knows these people well. Yes, Senrali does, too, but Iraleigh has been here longer. Senrali is a hard worker and nothing if not determined." She grinned, knowing the proper term was probably 'stubborn'. "You know that Iraleigh will take over from me when I retire. Senrali will probably never get a chance to run Telgar Weyr as Weyrwoman, not while she's still young and strong. Yet she is very capable of running a Weyr, too, and I want to give her a chance. I'm not getting any younger, and both Iraleigh and Senrali are still young. Iraleigh belongs here at Telgar Weyr, born and bred. Senrali's future, as I see it, is at North Ranges, where she can start all new."

"You decided this before hand. That's why Senrali was here when she was summoned," L'rec said, looking at Renate suspiciously. He didn't seem too pleased to be left out of the circle.

"Iraleigh and I discussed it and decided it was for the best. They both came. I still hadn't really decided. I was going to see who they were up against. Senrali's age might have counted against her, you see. But everyone chose younger gold riders - either unwilling to give away their best of doing what I did: giving those with real ability but further down the ranks a chance at real leadership that they otherwise might not have gotten. You have no idea how jealous some gold riders were of Kasienka getting full so early in her career. All right, so she's only Acting Weyrwoman, but if she wanted she could remain Weyrwoman. she looked a bit lost at the meeting though. I've very pleased with how Senrali handled herself."

They both looked over at Senrali again. She looked relaxed now, sitting back in her chair and her food tapping only sporadically. Renate moved over and sat down by their candidate, L'rec stayed by the conference room door.

Senrali smiled at Renate. "How'd I do?" she asked.

"Better than Ronika. She's got no chance." She shot a disgusted glance at the High Reaches group.

"I noticed her glaring in my direction," Senrali confirmed and looked thoughtfully in their direction for a moment.

"But Marila could still take it. Six votes to the North Ranges Acting Weyrleaders and six to the rest. I couldn't tell which way Kasienka or D'ranel will vote." The conversation was all conducted in low voices even though the others were all too involved in their own conversations to take any notice of others.

The door opened and L'rec stood back to admit Acting Weyrwoman Kasienka into the room. She paused as she realised everyone in the room was watching her very intently, then continued on to Ronika. Renate's heart sank. How did that happen? She botched up the interview! But she stopped that train of thought when Ronika stormed out, looking none too happy, after a few low words with Kasienka. The High Reaches Weyrleaders followed at a more sedate pace, but the look they shot Kasienka could have burned through stone. But the Acting Weyrwoman was looking at the two remaining candidates.

"It was very close," she started, then turned to Marila. "I'm sorry. You stated a very good case, but the voting went five to you."

Marila looked disappointed for a moment but she rallied well and nodded, then turned to the very stunned Senrali. "Congratulations," Marila said, giving Senrali a lop-sided smile.

"Uh. Thank you," she said. She came back to herself and stood up. "Thank you!" she said to Kasienka, who smiled.

"Seven to you, you won by a hair. Like I said, it was a hard decision." She cocked her head to one side in an endearing way. "I'm sure it was the right one."

"I hope so, too!" Senrali said and grinned in pure relief. Renate was ready to burst she was so happy for the young weyrwoman. She had no doubt Senrali would fit in fine.

"Don't let your head swell too much. You're not Weyrwoman yet!" she said, though she knew it would take a while before Senrali grounded herself again. She looked like she'd burst, herself.

"Of course not. But it's so nice to have the chance to prove I can do it. I will," Senrali replied, still grinning from ear to ear.

Renate laughed. "You'll make it work if it kills you!"

Senrali's grin turned cheeky. "Here's hoping it won't come to that!" she said with a wink.

Senrali fell back onto the bed, lying on her back and breathing heavily. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. She felt hot and parched, yet extremely satisfied and so just lay there for a while, listening to her breathing and that of the other occupant of the bed. Sighing, she turned over, and suddenly found that she was afraid to open her eyes. Only just free from the bond with Kizmeth, she wasn't overly sure who had won. She thought hard for a moment, but couldn't make out any rational thoughts from her dragon during the final stages of the flight. She hoped...

She opened her eyes and saw striking blue eyes watching her from a tanned Igen face framed with dark hair. For a moment she couldn't think, stuck halfway between a memory and the present. Then a smile tugged at the edge of her lips and she sent a silent thank you to Kizmeth. A contented murmur, almost feline purr, came from the other side of the partition.

S'vrel wasn't sure if he'd actually fallen asleep for a bit, or if he'd simply been unconscious. Idly, he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling of Senrali's weyr and trying not to grin like an idiot. Eligath?

Yes, S'vrel? He almost laughed aloud. His bronze's voice sounded incredibly smug and satisfied.

If I ever have any bright ideas about restraining you in a queen flight again, do me a favour and remind me what a consummate idiot I can be?

Can be? But Eligath was laughing at him, and he heard the contented rumble from outside.

He was almost afraid to turn to Senrali. Hopefully she wouldn't be disappointed - that, he admitted, had been one reason he'd never really wanted Eligath to catch Garieth. The look in Merecca's eyes when she was free of the dragonlust might have killed him. Still... this wasn't Merecca. He couldn't help the smile.

"Good flight," she told him with a satisfied smile. "Eligath flew very well." She wondered how much physical contact S'vrel would find comfortable. It had been a while for her, she hadn't taken anyone to bed in the time she had been at North Ranges because she didn't want to influence the flight, and she missed the feel of someone beside her, holding her.

That was a safe enough topic. "Kizmeth lead him on a good chase. I was starting to wonder if she was going to pick any of us. This will be a great clutch." He wanted to reach out and run a finger over her cheek, but hesitated. Mating flights were a fact of life for dragonriders, not necessarily an invitation to further intimacy. Still, she hadn't thrown him out of her bed yet.

Senrali's smile widened. "Yes, it will be. I think she was showing off, because of becoming senior queen." She wondered how to move closer without scaring him off. She wasn't sure about him, he was a bit of a mystery to her and that intrigued her.

"I'll wager she outdoes Anareth, if not in number of eggs at least in the number of bronzes." He fervently hoped she did - they certainly needed every bronze they could come by, and Anareth's clutch had been decidedly heavy on the blues and greens.

"She has usually had reasonably well balanced clutches, if not always a gold egg."

"Well, it might be nice if she had one this time around, and I'm not saying that out of ego - Eligath's going to be insufferably smug enough as it is." There was a snort from outside loud enough for them both to hear. "But Anareth and Faiarith are a little consanguineous for my comfort. Some variety is healthy in a Weyr."

He propped himself up on an elbow, studying her before risking a touch. "I don't have to stay, if you don't want me to." That hurt, but he had to say it. "Though I'd like to."

Her smile faded a little when he offered to leave, but just for a moment. Luckily, he didn't give her much time to worry about what to say in reply. "I'd like to you stay, too," she said, reaching out and touching his arm. She looked him in the eyes. There was one thing that had been plaguing her, one thing she wasn't sure of, although she now suspected the answer. "Can I just ask you one thing?" She hesitated. How was she going to put this?

His relief lasted just until that question. He reached up, a bit hestiantly, and ran a finger thoughtfully down her cheek, hoping she didn't shy from the contact. Then again, she had said she wanted him to stay. "Ask away." He tried not to sound too nervous.

She sighed. "It's just something to clear my mind." She liked the way he stroked her cheek. "At times, when we talked, it seemed as if we got along very well. Then some things you said... sounded like you were just after catching Kizmeth, and well... I just wanted to know." She felt silly stumbling over her sentences, but she felt it was important. If he had just been after the position, the facade of friendship could dissolve and the Weyrleadership wouldn't work as well. She hoped it wasn't the case.

After Kizmeth....? It took him a minute to realize what she was talking about. "Oh, yes...I am Weyrleader now, aren't I?" He laughed softly. "I wasn't really thinking about it." He didn't want to think about it now; there was going to be an incredible amount of work to do, but that could start tomorrow. "I'll admit, I did think about being Weyrleader. But if I didn't... like you... I wouldn't have been so determined for Eligath to win." He coughed, wishing there were a better word than the inadequate "like" for what he was thinking.

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at him. That was what she wanted to know. She hadn't realised how tense her shoulders were until she relaxed her muscles.

"I'm not madly in love with you. I don't expect you to fall in love with me. But I like you. Not the idea of flying your queen, although I have to admit that was..." He tried to fight the grin, which he knew looked incredibly silly. "Well, it was better than I ever imagined."

He's telling the truth, Eligath informed Kizmeth. Believe me, I know.

Rali grinned stupidly back. "It is, isn't it?" She idly stroked his arm, watching her hand and thinking about the flight. Her hand paused for a moment. She had never had the chance to experience this with A'mid. His brown Forisath had never caught Kizmeth... She moved on from that thought and continued to stroke S'vrel's arm. "I'm not sure love really comes into Weyrleadership." She looked at him and gave him a lop-sided smile. "But it does help if you like the person, and are attracted to them. Working well together and getting along doesn't require love. I'm quite realistic in what I expect, and all I expect is someone who can think and satisfy the needs of the Weyr." She grinned cheekily at him and twined her fingers in his. "And someone who can satisfy me?"

Now he knew he was grinning like an idiot. "Well, I can certainly try. On both counts." He risked a quick, light kiss. "I have to say the Weyr is going to need a lot of work. I don't even want to think about that now, though." A frown creased his forhead.

She was surprised by the kiss, but not in a bad way, grinning as he was. She was glad that he seemed to be reasonably comfortable with her. She brushed her hand over his forehead and cheek, trying to smooth away the frown. "I don't want to think about that now, either. That can wait, it's still morning and no one will be expecting us to jump out of bed and start running the Weyr. It's very tempting to just stay here." Figuring he wasn't about to run away, she moved closer to him.

He shifted a bit so that he wasn't quite on top of her, but curled alongside, and idly began stroking her short-cropped hair. "I think we can put off the business angle until tomorrow. No one will expect much today, though we might want to put in an appearance later." He cringed inwardly at the thought. He'd never known what to say to B'gren and Merecca... "Congratualtions" always seemed trite, and less than sincere in his case. As for D'ranel and Kasi's flight, it had been patently obvious that Kasi hadn't wanted to dwell on it.

She groaned. "Don't remind me. No, I think we can stop talking about this now. I don't think we should leave here until someone comes demanding where we are," she added cheekily. "Not that I think anyone would. Never know what they might hear!" She gave a low chuckle.

"I have a few ideas what they could hear, but I hope no one comes looking for quite a long time." He grinned. "Besides, Eligath and Kizmeth wouldn't let anyone by, at least not without warning us."

"Oh, you do?" she said archly, raising an eyebrow. She put a finger under his chin and kissed him softly. "I didn't think you'd have the energy." She gave him a wink.

"I'm not quite that old yet." He wondered if he ought to mention how old, exactly, he was, but decided that he'd only bring that up if she asked. Things were going much too well to risk that now. "I'm just getting my second wind."

"We'll just have to see about that. I'm obviously not keeping you busy enough then," she laughed. "And if I have to keep telling you you're not old, I may consider throwing you out after all," she said with mock-sternness, but couldn't help grinning.

For about half a heartbeat he thought she was serious, and then he laughed. "Maybe not that old," he admitted. "But I am forty-two. That's a bit older than you."

She blinked. He didn't look forty-two. She thought mid-thirties. She thought she might turn his complaint back on him, just once. "Well then, old man," she said, with the most cheeky grin on her face, "I'm just going to have to make the best of you while I can, then. At least you'll die happy." She couldn't help it, she had to laugh.

"Is that so?" He kissed her again, long enough that he was a bit breathless. "I'll just have to make my feeble best of the time I have left."

There are several acceptable bronzes and browns when we reorganize the wings, and to his surprise Eligath was including Senrali and Kizmeth both in the conversation. However, you think about work too much. I would think you'd want to enjoy the not-sleeping business first.

"Eligath!" He shook his head. "I want to know where he got that "not-sleeping" line, too."

Senrali was immensely surprised to hear Eligath's voice in her head, and looked at S'vrel's face to see what he thought about his dragon talking to her. He didn't seem too worried. "Yes, we can think about reorganising later, and you do think about work too much, S'vrel." She traced the veins down his forearm, finishing by drawing a circle in his palm with her fingertip. Right now she just wanted to relax. That had been quite a draining flight, Kizmeth really had outdone herself.

I couldn't make it too easy Kizmeth huffed, but still sounded very smug and pleased.

"I haven't heard Kizmeth use the "not-sleeping" thing. It's a very accurate description. Dragons! They're logical to the point of annoyance sometimes." She noticed how her skin was so much lighter than his, it looked so pale in comparison. "Are you always so dark?" she asked, slightly envious. She could never retain a tan in this climate.

He had to laugh. "Well, as I'm sure you noticed it's not exactly a suntan." Had he just said THAT out loud?

Senrali had to laugh at that. "I had noticed, I was just wondering how much is natural and how much is being outdoors."

Good, good, you're getting better at this. Eligath told his rider.

WILL you be quiet for once in your life? "I've always had darker skin. A lot of us from Igen do. It helps a bit down there, as I've never burned. Up here it just looks different."

"I like it," she said. "It suits you. I was just seeing how very pale I look in comparison. Light and dark," she said, putting her arm against his to show him. Her arm was also a fair bit shorter than his. She shuffled around so that she was still on her back but facing more towards him.

"You look fine to me." He risked another kiss, a bit less tentative this time. "Though you'd probably burn in Igen's sun. Have you ever been there? The sun's so hot at midday most of us didn't go outside. Unless of course we had to fly Thread."

"I've travelled to Igen a few times, but not in the heat of midday. I used to tan," she said, wistfully. "I think I agree with you. I'd burn in seconds."

"Well, if winter gets too cold for you, we can always try a visit. It gets a bit cooler around Turn's End. But it's still warmer than this place gets."

"That'd be really nice. Too bad Weyrleaders rarely get the chance to leave the Weyr outside of Threadfall let alone go on a short trip for pleasure. But it's a nice thought. Perhaps we can manage it."

"We'll make an excuse. If not Igen, at least Ista." His grin had a distinctly self-satisfied edge. "Not that I want to show off to B'gren just how well I've done or anything."

"Oh?" she said, raising her eyebrow again. "I'm a prize now am I?" She was finding it extremely hard to keep a straight face. She hoped she wasn't teasing him too much and that he didn't take her seriously.

"I certainly think so. I won't delude myself into thinking I'm actually the one in charge, but can I at least brag a bit? Eligath's going to. In fact I'd be surprised if hasn't started already."

I have not, Eligath said. I am content to sit her and admire my queen, and that was decidedly a subordinate rather than posessive "my," and you should be doing a bit more than just admiring her rider.

Mind your own business.

So much for your conversational skills, Eligath snorted.

Be quiet and enjoy your gloating.

I am NOT gloating. Although I'm certainly entitled to. He could hear his dragon warble softly at Kizmeth. I'm the luckiest bronze in the Weyr and I know it, even if my rider's slow on the uptake.

S'vrel rolled his eyes. "Eligath," he said by way of explanation.

"Kizmeth has been awfully quiet, actually," she mused.

I'm enjoying Eligath's company Kizmeth told her rider haughtily. Now enjoy his rider's company. He is good for you, he will make you leave the past.

The past... that sparked a memory. "You mentioned something about the previous Weyrwoman... yes, yes you did. I may have been drunk that night at the Gather but I remember. I see you didn't hold Eligath back, this time. Why did you hold back before?" She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip, watching his eyes.

He closed his eyes. No secrets. A Weyrleader shouldn't keep secrets from the Weyrwoman, and he didn't want to keep secrets from Rali. "Merecca loved B'gren. And he was my friend, my Wingleader and Weyrleader. I wasn't going to try coming between them." He hesitated, and then forced himself to say it. "No matter how much I loved her."

Good. And there was no sarcasm in Eligath's voice this time.

Rali put her hand flat on his cheek, wanting him to open his eyes again. She wasn't sure what to say, she hadn't expected such a deep answer. "That must have been very hard for you." What a way to get to know someone, she thought. All of a sudden, after a flight. But she needed to know things, needed to have everything out in the open at the start so there would be no unpleasant surprises later. They both had people in their past who affected them below the skin, and they both had to understand that neither will give up their ghosts for the other. She hoped so hard that this Weyrleadership would work.

He sighed and opened his eyes, although he now wanted to keep them closed for a different reason. Her hand felt nice. "I'll survive. At least I got the silly infatuation stage of romance out of my system. I have a suspicion you wouldn't want someone trailing after you singing love songs and talking about your 'snowy skin, depthless eyes,' and all that sort of Harper nonsense." Though he admitted that if he had been inclined to that sort of thing that mating flight was the stuff of which ballads were made - at least _he_thought so. "Besides, it would be difficult to run a Weyr while one's mooning all the time."

"Agreed." She grinned stupidly again. "Although this mating flight really was quite..." She couldn't think of a way to describe it, so she kissed him instead, using example rather than words.

He really was getting his strength back, he decided, if his response to that kiss was any indication...

You'll be fine Kizmeth said. You two will work well together.

See into the future, can you?

Kizmeth audibly snorted, but refused to rise to the bait.

Rali snuggled down close to him. "You'll make a good Weyrleader, S'vrel. You've got the control for it, the experience, and the heart."

He was glad his skin was dark enough to hide a bit of a blush. "It'll be easier with a strong Weyrwoman. I don't know about the heart." He kissed her forehead. "I do have more than twenty Turns's experience as a rider, so I have that part down." He kissed her neck, just behind her ear. "As for the control... you're seriously testing that right now."

She shivered and nibbled him back. "Got that second wind now, huh?" she said, laughter tinging her voice.

See? You do know how to enjoy yourself after all Kizmeth told her. You need some more of that not-sleeping thing you humans do. It makes you happy

Shush up, you. Give us some privacy Rali said, and grinned at S'vrel. "Now Kizmeth is using the "not-sleeping" term. How about we stay here and not sleep for a while," she quipped and kissed his neck.

He stifled a groan. "You know, I think I'm going to ask the queens to hunt down exactly who started this 'not-sleeping' nonsense." He shifted his weight again, tightening his arms around her. "Later, though...."

The evening of the day Senrali had taken a long trip between to attempt an abortion, she was sitting at her desk in her own weyr, checking over reports from the Weyrlingmaster outlining the progress of their two young queens. She had been thinking for a while that she really ought to be more directly involved in their education, especially now that they were getting older and every day closer to graduation and their first mating flights.

She was idly jotting down some ideas, when she became aware of a strange sensation between her legs. She stood up, and the sensation seemed to suddenly increase. When she checked, in the bathing chamber, she found that blood had seeped through her underwear to her pants. Sighing in frustration, she grabbed some of the pads she had quite a stock of, a clean pair of underwear and pants. Cleaned and changed, she returned to her work.

Now she could safely ignore the sensations of blood flowing from her, she got back into her plans for the young gold riders. But half an hour later, she felt as if something was running down her leg. Puzzled, she looked down and saw blood seeping through her pants on the inside of her thighs.

So once again, she made her way to the bathing chamber. The pad she had put in a mere half an hour beforehand was soaked through, as were the bandages holding it in place, her underwear, and the inside thighs of her pants. This time she reached for some of the heaviest pads she had and once again got herself cleaned up and changed.

This pad lasted an hour before she had to change it. And that's how it went. She went to bed early, and if Eligath queried Kizmeth, she never knew, but S'vrel didn't join her. During that night, she got up just before she knew she needed to change the pad, otherwise she would be going through more pairs of pants than she already had. She made herself scarce the next day, and went to bed early again that night. And at least the nausea was gone!

Kizmeth fended off any queries, Senrali made sure she was seen, but was seen to be far too busy to bother. She managed to avoid S'vrel, by going to bed very early, and getting up even earlier, and always being busy at something somewhere where he wasn't, but not too far away from a lavatory and supply of pads.

In the past, whenever she'd had a miscarriage, she'd bled heavily for one or two days and then returned to normal. It was therefore a very pale-looking and tired Senrali who wandered into the infirmary at her dragon's insistence four days after her trip between. It was either that, Kizmeth had said, or have her send Archet to chase up the healer and make a real scene. Senrali had by then been far too exhausted to argue.

Eliara looked up, and only the rigid training the Healer Hall and her Master at Fort Weyr had provided kept her from letting her feelings show on her face. "What's happened?" She was on her feet and taking Senrali's arm before there was time for an answer.

"Miscarriage? Or did you try going a-dragonback? I thought I told you to tell me first." She directed Senrali to the exam table. The Weyrwoman looked like she wasn't going to be able to walk much farther, anyway.

Senrali let herself be led to the exam table, not that she really had much choice. Eliara's touch was gentle, but firm and Senrali didn't have the energy to resist. "We went between. Four days ago. I'm sorry, I thought it would be like usual, but it hasn't stopped." Senrali's voice was barely above a whisper, and she knew that the healer would be angry with her for disobeying her instructions, but she was beyond caring. Now, she just wanted help.

"Four days!" Eliara couldn't help the exclaimation. "You've been like this four days and haven't - dragonriders!" She spat the word like an epithet. "On the table. Now." She went to the basin she kept of clean, heated water and washed her hands, patting them dry with a clean towel. She'd need more water, and...thymus, it might work. Yarrow, a small enough dose could help. "How long has the bleeding been going on? Constantly, or in fits and starts? Do you have any other symptoms besides fatigue?"

Senrali meekly got up onto the table. "I was still feeling a little nauseous, so I took regular sips of that tisane you gave me, and that seemed to help. I took sips of it until it ran out, and then I didn't seem to need it anymore, the nausea was gone. I have cramps, like with a normal period, but nothing too painful. It's a regular constant flow. I'm just so... drained. Like I can't lift my limbs properly." Senrali was completely unaware of how pale and transparent she looked, and that the last part was obvious.

"Of course you're exhausted." Eliara was no shyer than any rider about states of undress - less so, really, as it was all clincal to her. Still, she set up a privacy screen first. She eased off the Weyrwoman's boots and trousers, and had to bite down another exclaimation. "You've lost too much blood and you're still losing it. Lie back." She retrieved more of the towels and some of the water.

"I think it's safe to say you have successfully miscarried. Now we just have to keep you from bleeding out." A yarrow wash, she thought, plus thymus, licoriceroot and yarrow taken internally - oil of chamomile, perhaps. An external wound she could pack, but the best she could hope here was that the bleeding could be helped to slow on its own. At the worst, there was surgery, but such a risk, with the Senior Weyrwoman, was unacceptable unless there were no other alternatives.

She did her best to clean away the blood, washed her hands again, and prepared a rinse with the powdered yarrow. "This might help the bleeding," she explained as she worked, "I know it's not entirely comfortable but it's the only way to get the medicine directly to the problem. Now," and she retrieved still more towels, drying again, "let's get you onto a cot. I'm going to mix another medicine, one for you to drink, and you're going to drink it and stay here until the bleeding stops."

Senrali nodded and, for once, did as she was told. Once they finally managed to get her onto the cot, she lay back and closed her eyes. And that was it. Senrali slipped into unconsciousness, finally exhausted by the loss of blood. She seemed to stop breathing for a moment, then her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

Outside, Kizmeth let out a worried croon, but not the distressed keen, which would have been more worrying! A bronze firelizard flew into the infirmary, creened, then winged his way straight to Senrali, settling down on the edge of her cot and watching her silently.

Eliara froze, and then reached for Senrali's wrist. The pulse was fast but there, the frantic beating of a heart working hard to compensate for the loss of blood volume. "Oh, no, you don't. No rest for the wicked yet." She raised her voice. "Weyrwoman, wake up! You don't get to sleep yet! Come on, I said you had to take your medicine, and you're not getting out of it that easily!"

Senrali was not gone long enough to slip into deep unconsciousness, and the touch on her wrist mixed with Eliara's commanding tone helped to bring her back. "I..." she began, and heard it come out as a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'll take the medicine. S'rry. Tired."

"You can rest in a minute." Eliara looked at the little bronze firelizard perched over the bed, his eyes whirling a distressed yellow. "You keep your mistress awake, hear?" She wasn't sure how much the firelizards understood when spoken to, but it didn't hurt to try.

Archet crooned in reply, but didn't look away from Senrali.

Eliara went in to the still room and mixed the three powdered herbs with warmed water. Later, she'd try warmed wine, but for now she didn't risk the soporiphic effects of the alcohol. "Here," she said, bringing it to Senrali's bedside. "Still awake? Good. This isn't going to taste very good, but you're to drink it all."

Senrali took the drink carefully. She gripped it as hard as she could, but as it was she nearly dropped it. How could she let herself get so weak before coming here?

Because you're stubborn, you won't listen, you think you know best, you're-- Kizmeth began, but Senrali interrupted.

Ok, ok! I get it. Regale me with a list of my virtues later.

Senrali made a face, took a deep breath, and attempted to drink the whole lot down in one go. She didn't quite manage it, but at least got most of it down. "You were right when you said this doesn't taste good." She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, and quickly swallowed down the rest of it.

She couldn't help making another face as she held the now empty cup away from her. That certainly woke her up a little, but she still felt an almost irresistable urge to lie back down and sleep. Which is why she didn't lie completely back down.

Archet watched her intently from his perch by her bed, and she reached up to scratch him behind his eye ridges. She could only manage a short scratch before letting her arm drop down to the bed again, feeling as heavy as a block of wood.

"Of course it tastes bad." Eliara took the cup. "And I'm going to give you more later, so you'd better get well quickly so you don't have to take any more." She softened her tone just a little. "Now, you can relax, and rest a bit. It's all right to sleep a bit, but I'm going to wake you up in a bit and give you something to drink - water first, then a bit of wine and some broth when you're up to it." She pulled one of the screens close around the bed. "I'll be right out here - if there's any change, if you feel any pains or the weakness increases, tell me." She frowned, studying the Weyrwoman's face and not liking the color. "You'll be spending the night here, that's certain."

A sound at the door drew her attention and she stepped from behind the screen. "Weyrleader!"

S'vrel had a pinched, anxious expression on his face. "Eligath said--"

"The Weyrwoman is here, and she's resting," Eliara interrupted. "And she's not to be disturbed, even by you."

He stopped, startled, and the bright blue eyes narrowed. "Master Healer, while I appreciate your duties, I have a right to know the condition of - of the Weyrwoman."

She noticed the slight stutter, and felt a trace of pity, but duty to her patient came first. "The Weyrwoman's condition is ill. She needs her rest more than anything at the moment. If anything changes I assure you that you'll be informed." He looked ready to argue, but she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

In the battle of wills, the Weyrleader lost to the Healer. "All right," he sighed, with a last glance at the screen. "But if anything happens, anything at all--"

"I'm sure your dragon will keep you informed." She kept her arms crossed and watched until he was out of the room before going to check on Senrali.

"I heard S'vrel," Senrali said to Eliara when she came back in. "Thank you. I can't... I'm too tired to face him right now. Later." She closed her eyes. Eliara had said she could rest, and sleep, and she was going to. "He'll be mad at me," she murmered, right before she drifted off to sleep.

Eliara smiled to herself. "I can think of worse reasons to have someone angry with you," she said, though she doubted the Weyrwoman heard her.

There were no other patients, so Eliara kept herself busy fiddling with the amounts of the different herbs in the mixture, checking on Senrali at regular intervals and noting temperature, her pulse and her breathing. Besides the medicine, she made the Weyrwoman drink water each time she woke, and after the third time Eliara made a quick trip to the kitchens for a bowl of broth for Senrali. Solids would have to wait, but she needed nourishment, the stronger the better. No doubt she'd been neglecting her diet these past few days, too.

It went like that for much of the night. Eliara managed to keep herself busy, and keep waking Senrali on a fairly regular schedule. Only once, late in the night, did she nod off, and she woke to find Alavid standing over her, a blanket round her shoulders, and a plate of sweet rolls and a mug of klah on her desk.

The dragonhealer didn't say anything, but he did give her a pointed look. She considered protesting, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. He did go once she'd eaten, admirably without any lecture or comments besides, "I checked on the Weyrwoman. She's sleeping, and you ought to be, too. If you're going to keep this up, get someone to take it in shifts tomorrow." For him, that was positively terse.

S'vrel wasn't nearly so short-winded when he arrived barely after first light. "I've given you an entire day. Now, what precisely is wrong and when will she be better?" From the look of him, he hadn't slept much more than she had.

"She's been resting," Eliara said, "and as for why, I'll let her tell you if she's feeling up to it." She went to the edge of the screen, but S'vrel stepped past her.

"Rali? Are you all right?"

Senrali had been dozing again. It was about all she'd felt up to since she came to the infirmary. Whatever had been keeping her going for the four days previous had completely deserted her. She'd heard S'vrel's voice in a sort of dream-like state, but when he came around the screen and his voice was closer, she forced herself to wake up all the way. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes, saw Archet, curled up asleep next to her, then turned her head to face S'vrel.

"I'm all right," Senrali told him, weakly beckoning with her hand that he should come all the way in. "Just..."

Stupid, Kizmeth supplied, when she hesitated.

Senrali grimaced. "Kizmeth's right. Just stupid. Every time I wake up she reminds me of my most endearing traits." She got onto her elbows and made an effort to sit up a little against the pillows. The bleeding had mostly stopped sometime during the night, thanks to the medicines Eliara had been making her drink, and a little colour had returned to her face. But not enough. She was still a pale shadow of the usually vibrant and energetic person she was. She possibly even looked worse than she had after giving birth to Sevrahlen.

"That's what we have dragons for, I think sometimes," S'vrel said, sitting down as gently as he could on the edge of the bed. "Being chosen by a dragon makes us feel so special they have to spend the rest of their lives reminding us they're the special ones."

Shame you don't remember it more often, Eligath said. Kizmeth's right, you can both be--

That's enough out of you, S'vrel chided, though he wasn't sure Rali had heard.

"Four... Five days ago, when I was in here, it was because of violent morning sickness. Well, I decided to end that. Kizmeth and I went between for a nice long trip. It worked!" She gave a weak laugh. "A little too well." She still couldn't tell him how much ending it had cost her. He wouldn't understand. He barely took an interest in his daughter. Senrali would have done well as a holder's wife, bearing child after child. And she probably could have, not having to go between all the time. But to not have Kizmeth? It wasn't something she could now comprehend. Not being able to bear many children was a small price to pay for the unconditional love she shared with her dragon.

And if she'd died because of this silly stunt she'd pulled? She blanched, thinking of what would have happened to Kizmeth. No, she'd been incredibly stupid and selfish, thinking she could do it all her way. "Kasi and Havannah are going to have to take over most of my duties for a period of time. Until I get better." And that was another thing... Were they ready to take over her duties? If something happened to her, would one of them be ready to step into the Weyrwoman's position? She'd been incredibly lax in her duties, and in her weakened and sick state, thought very privately that she didn't deserve to be Weyrwoman here. Or anywhere. Renate had been wrong. But she made sure to think that VERY quietly, so Kizmeth wouldn't hear.

"I don't think either of them is going to like that," S'vrel said. "This is what a trip between does? You're so pale..." He shook his head - he ought to be trying to cheer her up. "I'm sure this was just a fluke. Next time, you can talk to the Healer sooner, and she can give you something so the nausea won't be so bad and you don't have to go through this." Though he wasn't entirely sure he wanted her to go through any of it again, the pregnancy or the betweening, but he'd never seen her look so ill, not even after their son had been born. "And I'm sure you'll be up and about in no time."

Senrali smiled at his attempts to be cheerful. She had been expecting him to be mad at her for risking herself like this. She had not been expecting a restful, and somewhat reviving visit. "Thank you." She moved her elbows and lay down again. "I can trust you to keep an eye on them. Although Kasi did well enough before I came, and now she has others to help." As nice as it was to have S'vrel there, she was feeling tired again and could feel herself slipping back into a doze. "I'm sorry. Try me again later, I might be a better conversationalist. Right now I'm just tired..."

"All right." S'vrel stood up, trying not to shake the cot too much. She looked terrifyingly frail. "Get some rest. I'll talk to Kasi and Havannah. I'm sure they'll be fine, and I'll make sure they don't come bothering you with too many questions. Now you can just worry about getting some rest. If there's anything at all you need, just have Kizmeth ask Eligath and I'll see to it--"

"How about some peace and quiet?" Eliara pulled the screen back. "Later, Weyrleader. The patient needs some rest."

"Were you listening?" S'vrel straightened abruptly, torn between annoyance and embarassment.

"Not particularly, but you've been here long enough. Out." She pointed towards the door. "Relax, Weyrleader. I may remember everything, that doesn't mean I repeat it. Now out. The Weyrwoman needs to take her medicine."

S'vrel sighed. "All right. I'll be back later, Rali." He gave Eliara a hard look but retreated.

She shook her head. "I'm just winning friends all over the place, aren't I? Now, Weyrwoman, I know you aren't enjoying this stuff but it does seem to be doing some good." She held out the glass.

Senrali smiled and reached for the glass. "You know, after the first ten times, it doesn't taste so bad any more." She held her breath and managed to get the whole lot down in one go. She even managed to not make too much of a face when she handed it back. "I don't know if I've said thank you. Healers don't get thanked enough."

Eliara smiled. "Only doing our jobs. And you'll need to keep taking that, but a little less often today, and less the day after, and you can stop once we're sure the bleeding has. Now, are you feeling at all up to breakfast? You need to eat, though I'd advise against anything too rich for now."

Food sounded good, although she wasn't sure about the extra energy required to eat it. Her stomach certainly didn't rebell at the thought of food. She nodded her head and closed her eyes until the food arrived.

When the food arrived she ate it without really tasting it, but felt much better for having something in her stomach other than just the liquid medicine. Eliara kept checking up on her, giving her medicine, until Alavid turned up and saw that she was still there. Senrali smiled at his tone, she could hear it clear through the screen, as he bossed and bullied Eliara into getting someone to take over for her, and made her leave to get some rest. But not before the healer had left strict and detailed instructions on how Senrali was to be taken care of.

Over the course of the day Senrali regained some colour, and became more alert in between rests. It looked as if she would recover quickly enough. The bleeding had almost stopped completely. Eliara returned again that evening to take over for the night shift and was also pleased with Senrali's progress.

It was therefore a bit of a shock to see her looking once again pale and withdrawn the second morning. Senrali had not yet woken up, and usually looked healthier when she was asleep, but she had completely lost any colour she had gained over the past two nights, and a sheen of sweat covered her face.

Eliara was almost tired enough to write off the sleep. Almost, but not quite. She rested a hand against the Weyrwoman's forehead, and frowned.

"Weyrwoman? Weyrwoman, can you hear me?" Senrali murmured something, but didn't open her eyes. Eliara cursed softly and went to the still room. With the bleeding she didn't dare use willow salic or meadowsweet - hadn't the tonic she'd given the Weyrwoman for nausea had that? For all she knew it had started the bleeding in the first place. But the fever needed to come down. "Ezob, more thymus, and an alcohol bath," she murmured aloud to herself. "At this rate I'm going to have to ask the Hall for help... can't keep going like this."

"Are you talking about her, or you?"

Alavid was in the door of the still room, arms crossed, leaning casually on the doorjamb. "She's worse?"

"As if it's any of your business, yes." Eliara took down the tincture of ezob and stirred a little into a glass. "Why do you keep popping in here, anyway?"

"The Weyrwoman's health is your business, but her queen's is mine, and I can see when a dragon's worried. And besides, be honest - if I hadn't come by before, when exactly would you have eaten or slept?"

"I know what I'm doing, Dragonhealer." She sighed. "All right, I do appreciate the thought. But I don't need you looking after me."

"You need something," he muttered, and she raised an eyebrow. "Just try not to get sick yourself. At the very least, who'd look after the Weyrwoman then?"

"I get the picture," she said, "now scoot. I need to get this down her." Alavid moved aside to let her pass, but he didn't leave the infirmary, only stood back while she went behind the screen. "Senrali? I need you to wake up enough to drink this. Senrali?"

She sighed and looked back around the curtain. "Alavid? I may need help holding her up. Awake or not she has to get this down."

Senrali could hear someone calling her name, and she was glad when they went away. She was warm and comfortable and she didn't want to answer to the call of anyone right now. Especially not to the call of "Weyrwoman". It meant duties, responsibilities. She mumbled a denial and drifted back into her deep slumber. She was somewhat annoyed to be roused again, but this time she drifted up far enough to recognise the tone. "Drink?" she said. Well, she thought she'd said it. It didn't sound anything like that to her ears. She struggled to move but her body didn't seem to want to obey her. And she was incredibly hot. She tried to push the blankets off but her hands merely twitched. She wasn't quite awake enough yet to move, and she couldn't seem to wake up further, stuck in the darkness.

Eliara kept her tone under control, barely, but she really didn't like this. "Alavid, lift her up. Support her head. Senrali, I have something here you need to drink. It'll make you feel better, but you have to get it all down." Alavid moved her around to the head of the cot. He might have been used to bigger patients, but he lifted the Weyrwoman's head and shoulders with a practiced ease any Healer would have approved of. Eliara raised the glass to Senrali's lips. "Just sip it slowly. Drink as much as you can."

Senrali was aware of jostling, then something cold against her lips. She felt the liquid in her mouth and swallowed reflexively. When there was new liquid, she swallowed, until the liquid ran out. Perhaps now they would leave her alone? Maybe she could get them to take the blankets off, so she could cool down. She felt hot and sticky. She tried expressing her wishes, but all that came out was a prolonged "h" sound. That would not do! She tried harder. "Hhhh..." Well, that was certainly better. "Hhhhhh't".

"Hot? I'm not surprised." Eliara set the glass aside.

"You understood that?" Alavid asked.

She gave him a dirty look. "Yes. Now pull back the blankets." She took the bottle of clear alcohol and a soft cloth. "Senrali, this will make you feel a little better." She soaked the cloth in the alcohol, and gently dabbed the Weyrwoman's face, then wiped her hands and arms. "This won't actually bring the fever down, the medicine should do that, but this will make you feel cooler, anyway."

"Is she going to be all right?" Alavid asked. He'd folded the top blanket back and was standing by with the helpless look of someone who wants to be of use but hasn't the first idea how. "It's not contagious, is it? More riders won't..."

"No, and neither will I," Eliara said. "And she'll be all right. I'll find something that'll break this fever."

"As long as it doesn't break you," Alavid murmured. "Still... she's the Weyrwoman. When her queen's upset, it'll affect the whole Weyr."

"I know." She drew up the top cover again. "I know you're warm, but trust me, you're going to get a chill if you don't stay under the covers."

Actually, Senrali was more than happy to have the covers drawn up again. The brief period out from under the covers, as well as the wet cloth Eliara had rubbed her with had made her arms a lot cooler than her legs. She was quite keen to get them warm again. If only she could have them warm without getting too hot. She could feel herself waking up further, too, but she still couldn't seem to get her eyes open.

Archet, who had been very quietly sitting at the foot of the bed, watching carefully, was acting as eyes for Kizmeth, who by now was almost sick with worry herself. Archet now walked carefully up the length of the bed to position himself by Senrali's head, where he curled up and put his head on his foreclaws, watching Senrali's face intently.

Eliara leaned back, stretching back muscles she hadn't realized were aching. Alavid stepped around behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She'd have knocked his hands away, but it really did feel good. "You need to rest. Three hours of sleep isn't good enough and you know it."

"I know, I know...." She sighed. "I have to watch her for now, though. If she takes a turn, better or worse, I need to be awake."

"You won't be if you're so tired you fall asleep at your desk," Alavid pointed out. "Get help."

"All right, all right," she sighed. "There's a candidate, Hurlon. He was a junior journeyman when he was Searched - he should be able to keep an eye on things, at least enough to know when to come get me."

"Fine." Alavid stepped back, and only pride kept her from protesting that he'd stopped. "I'll go get him, and then you're going to go get some proper rest, as in food, then bed. Alone."

He left, which was just as well, because that way he missed hearing Eliara mutter, "I don't recall anyone dying and appointing you my mother." She looked back to Senrali, and the bronze firelizard keeping watch.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," she told the firelizard. "She'll be fine. I'll think of something."

It wasn't long before Alavid returned, Hurlon close on his heels. And by Hurlon's expression as he saw who was on the bed, Alavid hadn't filled him in on a lot of details. He was a smidgen shorter than the dragonhealer, but now that he was in his own element, he exuded a confidence that made him seem taller. "How long has she been like this?" he asked quietly, coming closer to the Weyrwoman's bed and bending over to put a hand against her forehead. She shifted her head, then went still again. "Do you have any idea what's caused it? What can I do to help?"

He turned and looked at Eliara. She looked like she'd pulled a few too many long shifts, but he refrained from commenting. This was obviously why he was here.

She recognized Hurlon from the Healer Hall, of course, though as he'd been several turns behind her (who wasn't?) he might not have remembered her, except possibly in whispers as Elinon's eidetic daughter, the one who walked the tables early. That didn't matter - he at least spoke her language. "She's suffering the aftereffects of blood loss from a between-induced miscarriage. Bleeding was treated with a yarrow wash and with yarrow, thyums and licoriceroot internally over the past thirty-six hours. A secondary infection's developed and she presented with a fever this morning. Because of the bleeding that's being treated with ezob infusion and alcohol bath. No willow salic or meadowsweet, it'll make the bleeding worse. Right now, your major concern it to make sure to keep pushing clear fluids - I'll have the kitchen send over broth - and keeping up with the ezob every four hours. That's four drops of the tincture in a cup of water - do the alcohol bath at the same time. Check for the bleeding, monitor her pulse, besides the fluids just let her rest as much as possible--"

"And if anything serious happens, you can come and get Eliara," Alavid said, taking her by the arm, "but otherwise that's quite enough of that. Come on - food, then bed. Let's go."

"I'm not finished--" she protested, but she found she really didn't have the energy to resist too much. Though it couldn't be doing good things for her reputation for a journeyman to see a Master being manhandled by a journeyman dragonhealer.

"Oh, yes, you are. Come on." Alavid marched her out of the infirmary, not giving her a chance to protest any more.

Eliara may have an eidetic memory, but Hurlon didn't, and he scrabbled for a piece of hide to take everything down on before he forgot it. He got down what she'd been treating the Weyrwoman with, what he shouldn't give her, ezob every four hours (four drops in water), alcohol bath and a brief note (which he didn't think he'd need) of what caused it. The other things went without saying, and he didn't need a reminder note to tell him he should be keeping an eye on her pulse and the bleeding. Once he got it all written down he breathed out in a big gust and looked around at the suddenly quiet cubicle.

Then he grinned a little as he remembered how the dragonhealer had manhandled Eliara out of there. Better him than Hurlon! He would not like to get on the bad side of the Master Healer, and he wouldn't think that a stunt like that would go uncommented once she was in a state to protest.

Hurlon turned to the patient. The Weyrwoman, he corrected himself, and swallowed. He wondered when the last time was that she had been given something to drink, or the tincture? He bent close to examine her, very aware that her firelizard kept one eye open and was watching his every move. He noted that there was still some liquid on her lips, and a small drip had leaked down the side of her face. So, it hadn't been that long ago. He took her wrist and listened to her heart. Fast, but not overly so. Her forehead was still hot, but she seemed to be sleeping comfortably.

Noting down his observations on a handy pad, he then went into the store room to make sure he knew where everything was that would be needed. It was easy enough to find, having so recently been used, and he went back out to the little cubicle and sat down. Nothing to do now but wait.

And wait he did. Every time he checked how she was going, he wrote down his observations. He checked her bleeding and changed the bandages, but it looked good. He doubted there would be much blood at all on the new ones. She swallowed whatever he put in front of her. She even woke up enough at one stage to require a bedpan. Her condition seemed stable, but he was worried that it didn't seem to be improving. Was there something else that they should be giving her? He wouldn't know, and when Eliara returned he'd pass on his notes to her. She would know what to do. He could only sit, and wait, and worry.

Eliara would never have admitted it, but if Alavid hadn't been there to keep her awake, she'd have fallen asleep face-down in her food. He also firmly steered her away from the bracing klah. She dimly remembered the dragonhealer helping her down the steps to her quarters in the lower level of the caverns, and making some what probably sounded witty at the time remark about how he'd been looking forward to undressing her as he tugged off her boots, leggings, and overtunic before closing the glowbaskets and walking out. At least she assumed he walked out. She'd fallen asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

When she finally woke, and stumbled blearily back to the upper caverns, she was horrified to realize it was now well past dinner - she'd slept the day away! Shaking away the last of the sleep from her eyes, she grabbed a mug of klah from the pot at the night hearth and headed back to the infirmary.

"Any change?" she asked Hurlon, heading over to the Weyrwoman's bed to see for herself even as she spoke.

Hurlon looked at Eliara critically before replying, but it was obvious that she had gotten some rest, and she did look a lot better than she had that morning...

"None," he replied flatly. He handed over the pad in which he had been making notes. "I checked her regularly, been sitting here the whole time, and she doesn't seem to have gone either way. She regained full consciousness once, but otherwise has been mostly unresponsive."

"The fever hasn't broken?" She frowned and put her hand on Senrali's forehead for what felt like the thousandth time. "How's the bleeding? If it's not bad, maybe we'll try the willow salic. Right now I'd rather get the fever down and worry about the blood later, if I can afford to." She wondered absently where Alavid was --- he would have seen any changes in Kizmeth.

"Fever?" She and Hurlon both jumped and turned. The Weyrleader was standing only a few paces away. "What fever?"

"There seems to be a secondary infection," Eliara said. "She's been sleeping and taking fluids. We're keeping a very close eye on her--"

"Rali?" He ignored her, and she felt a twinge of sympathy, but she stepped between him and her patient anyway. S'vrel's expression darkened. "I need to see her."

Hurlon stepped up to Eliara and said quietly in her ear, "It won't harm the patient, and might put the Weyrleader's mind at ease to at least see her." He tried, surreptitiously, to push her over a little to let the Weyrleader pass.

Eliara strew in a breath to snap at the journeyman and caught herself. "All right. Five minutes," she said to the Weyrleader. "I'll be counting. Come on, Hurlon. Let's give them some privacy."

S'vrel had heard all he needed and pushed by them both. "Rali?" He sat down on the edge of the cot. "Can you hear me?" He took her hand - it felt so limp, and her skin was so hot. Eligath? What does Kizmeth say?

She is still here, isn't she? his bronze said. Kizmeth? There was a plaintive note to the question.

She is resting. She will wake. Kizmeth replied shortly.

Ah, now that voice. That was one she wanted to wake up for. Senrali struggled through the fogginess of such a prolonged sleep. She wasn't quite sure which voice it was, only that she really wanted to see this person. A name sprang to mind, of a person she really wanted to see.

"A'mid?" She was almost awake, almost there. She managed to move a leg, and that woke her up all the way. She was suddenly very hot, but that wasn't important right now. Senrali opened her eyes and blinked. There was sleep in her eyes, and she reached up to wipe it out. "A'mid, I thought..." She focused on the person sitting on her bed. "S'vrel." She squeezed the hand that was holding hers. "How long have you been here?" Her voice was a little low, and her words a little slurred, but she knew where she was now. Where had she thought?

It shouldn't have hurt. She was delierious, feverish. He made himself smile. "Only a few minutes, and supposedly I'm not allowed to stay long. The Healer is counting minutes." He laughed softly. "Though if you want me to stay longer, I'll gladly pull rank on her. How are you feeling? Any better? Is there anything I can do? Can I bring you something?" What did you bring a person when they were ill, anyway?

Senrali smiled back, and gave his hand another squeeze. "I think in this instance, I should follow the healer's orders. For once. Look where not following them got me. Eliara and that other young man will get me up and about in no time. I'm actually feeling better, I think, than last time I woke." Although she could feel that her bladder had the same needs as last time she woke. There was a little more colour to her face again, and the intense heat she had felt upon first waking was abating a little, now that she was conscious. "If I'm in here much longer, though, can someone make sure Kizmeth gets something to eat. I don't remember the last time she ate. How long have I been asleep?"

Hurlon gave a polite cough from the other side of the partition, and Senrali's face fell a little. "I guess that's the sign that you're about to be chased out."

"So it is," Eliara said, stepping around the partition. "And time to take your medicine again, Weyrwoman."

S'vrel glared, but didn't argue. "You've been sleeping almost two days now. I'll have Eligath find Kizmeth something to eat, if she won't move from her ledge to hunt herself."

I will find the fattest buck in the herd for her, Eligath put in, she will eat!

"And I happen to know the Dragonhealer is keeping an eye on her, too," Eliara said, "and he can be very persuasive. If she starts looking truly off-color he'll be in here again, browbeating me to get you well so you can take proper care of your queen. Now, Weyrleader, with all due respect, you need to let our patient rest."

"I know." He sighed, and stood up, with a final squeeze to her hand. "I'll be back soon," and he gave the Healers a glare as he said it, daring them to challenge him. Eliara's expression remained impassive, and her fingers drummed lightly on the glass of medicine.

"Go, S'vrel. As you can see I'm in capable hands." Once S'vrel had left, Senrali put her hand out for the glass. Her fever finally broke later that same evening, and the message was passed along the grapevine (dragons) to S'vrel. Senrali had a peaceful sleep, saw one or two visitors the next day (who were then promptly chased off by either Eliara or Hurlon), and was already making a pain of herself the day after that. She still tired far too easily, seemed to be sleeping most of the day away, and spending the rest drinking Eliara's horrible potions. But she was bored, not a personality used to sitting idle, looking at the same walls for long periods of time. They wouldn't even bring her some work. Although she was secretly pleased about that. She doubted whether her energy was even up to turning the pages in a book of records.

Senrali was still looking rather pale, but nowhere near the state she had been in when she'd first walked into here. Because she was too weak to feed herself very much, and too proud to let someone else feed her, her appetite had reduced somewhat dramatically. Also, she didn't feel hungry a lot of the time. Parlisa could bring her food and drink, she was sure the woman who had moved here to be with her and Marima wouldn't mind. If only she could get out of the infirmary. She plucked absently at the blankets.

"Look, you know I've improved. My fever is gone, the bleeding has stopped. I may not be able to lift a feather, but can't I at least recover the rest of the way in my own weyr?" Senrali pleaded with Eliara. At least in her weyr she may be able to get Marima to visit her and relieve the boredom. Her energetic and overly curious daughter was not a welcome visitor while she was here in the infirmary. She wasn't allowed visitors that 'tired her out', but Senrali never got tired of watching her daughter play.

Eliara sighed. On the one hand, being rid of her increasingly restless patient would be a relief. On the other... "One more day, Weyrwoman," she said, though she at least made the concession of folding back the privacy screen so Senrali could see what was going on, unless of course another patient came in.

"Not that I don't trust you, but your track record for 'just resting' when left unsupervised doesn't exactly inspire confidence. You are doing better, and I think you can go back to your own weyr and some _very_light duties tomorrow, if you promise to eat and rest, but I'm going to keep you here one more day. If you're still improving tomorrow morning, I'll get some help to move you back to your weyr. Agreed?"

Senrali resisted the urge to pout like a child denied a treat, and instead sighed and leaned back into the pillows. It didn't take her long to become thoroughly bored, though. She struck out at the only person who was available for conversation right now.

"So, Eliara..." she began cheerfully. "How're you settling in here at the Weyr? Getting to know people?"

"Well, so far, so good." Eliara kept her eyes on the records she was working on. "Everyone seems very..." Well, nice wasn't necessarily the word for it, but..."Helpful." That was a good word for it.

Senrali noticed the hesitation and wondered what words she had discarded. Helpful wasn't bad, she guessed. Although helpful could be used in a negative sense, like being overly-helpful... She decided to not ponder that further. "An attractive enough woman like you must have a few men showing an interest..." she prompted, fishing.

Eliara had to pause again, and think. "I suppose. There are a few dragonriders who've been rather friendly. The nice thing about dragonriders, they don't expect too much, though I suppose you'd know that better than I do."

"Indeed," Senrali agreed. "Although it's nice to know you have someone who cares about you. Like S'vrel. I know he cares about me because he worries." She wondered if there was anyone who would be worried about Eliara, apart from her family. She always seemed so business-like.

The dragonhealer, Kizmeth put in.

"Alavid?" Senrali asked out loud, but Kizmeth was continuing.

He made her leave, made her eat and get some sleep when she was looking after you. There was still an accusatory note in Kizmeth's voice about that last part.

Senrali focused on Eliara again. "So... Tell me more about Alavid." She grinned, feeling better for having something juicy to talk about, and sat up straighter on her pillows.

"Alavid?" Eliara's voice scaled up, and coughed to clear her throat, as if that was why the pitch changed. "He's very competent. A real talent with the dragons. Excellent stitches, too. He trained a bit at the Healer Hall, I believe, though I was off on my journeymanship at Fort at the time."

Senrali put her hand up to her mouth and cleared her throat as well, to hide the grin she couldn't suppress. Who did Eliara think she was kidding? So, she decided this was definitely an avenue of conversation she was going to pursue. "Yes, he certainly came with good recommendations. Nice enough guy, too. Seems to care about people, not just dragons. I take it you two have sorted out the differences you had when you first met, that day in the Hatching Grounds? Kizmeth informs me he's been sighted here, and in your company, on more than one occasion."

"Well, of course, we do have to work together, quite a bit," Eliara said, wondering where the Weyrwoman could be going with this. "We sorted matters out; of course everyone was on edge on the Hatching day, things being what they were. And I think he's going to be good for Willin --- weyrwoman Avalyn's younger brother, he's much more interested in healing dragons than people and Alavid should be a good teacher for him. He - Alavid - helps here, too, a bit." Honesty compelled her. "He took over watching you one night while I got a bit of sleep. Rather made me go, actually. Said that since your health affected Kizmeth's and Kizmeth's health is his responsibility, it wasn't an imposition."

Senrali forced down a chuckle. Had she ever been that naïve? She thought about how she had acted with A'mid at first and decided that yes, she had been. "No, of course. He did it all in the interest of Kizmeth's health," she said in the most serious tone she could muster, then couldn't contain the laughter any longer.

If the Weyrwoman weren't laughing, Eliara would probably not have thought at all about it. "I don't see what else he'd be thinking, except maybe that it's not good for Weyr morale to have the Weyrwoman sick in the infirmary for days," and the honesty compelled her, "plus I can't do everything, and we are short-handed in here sometimes."

Senrali was just about to reply to that when she realised that Eliara had almost successfully diverted the topic of conversation. She filed away in her mind that she needed to look over Eliara's roster, and if she was indeed short-handed then she would need to look at that. "Alavid," Senrali said, bringing the conversation back to where it was supposed to be, "I'd say was probably more interested in your wellbeing than Kizmeth's, since that would have been looked after by Eligath. She informed me that he brought her food when she was hungry. But there was no one to bring you food when you were hungry, or make you sleep when you were tired, when Alavid gallantly stepped in."

She leaned back into her pillows again, making Archet complain at being moved, and wove her fingers together across her stomach. "He's not half bad-looking, either. A woman could do much worse." She raised an eyebrow and watched Eliara again.

"I --- he seems nice enough." Not only nice enough, but also strangely...self-effacing. "He hasn't said anything. I'm sure he's just being friendly. I mean, he barely knows me. I barely know him. Shouldn't you be resting?" She hoped she didn't sound quite as uneasy as she suspected she did, but the thought was disturbing. If that was all Alavid wanted, why didn't he just say anything? At least with dragonriders you never wondered what they were after.

Now they were getting somewhere! "You're keeping me here, you pay the consequences, which means keeping me from going bored out of my mind. I do terrible things to my health when I'm bored out of my mind," Senrali teased. "Maybe Alavid is just being friendly, but it's not good to cut off that avenue just because you think it's unlikely, or it makes you uncomfortable at the moment. I'm not saying go pounce on him the next time he comes into the room, but it's always good to be observant of how people are acting, and to keep an open mind."

Senrali tickled Archet under the chin, and he responded by wrapping his legs around her wrist and twisting so that she had better access to his itchy spots. "I shall be watching with interest, anyway."

Avenue? What avenue? Senrali was a weyrwoman, she couldn't possibly be thinking that Eliara and Alavid ought to... non-riders didn't weyrmate, they... of course it was a Weyr, meaning there didn't have to be anything formal that way. But that lead right back to if that being all he wanted, why not just say so and get it out of the way? It wasn't as if that required a formal introduction and the approval of the families.

Of course, none of the riders who'd been 'friendly' had dropped by to check on her during her vigil with the Weyrwoman, or brought food and forced her to get some sleep, alone.

She shook her head firmly. She had to stop thinking along these lines or she was going to get a headache. "If you're feeling up to being that bored, maybe I should send you back to work. Light work, that is," she added hastily, "Or it'll be straight back here and I'll send Hurlon to watch you so you can interrogate him instead."

Senrali smiled in triumph. She was going back to her weyr! Oh, bliss! And she hadn't even broken out a sweat getting it her way. She suspected Hurlon wouldn't be quite as fun to interrogate and swore to herself that she would make sure Eliara had no excuse to put her back in here. It wasn't long before Senrali was up (on somewhat shaky legs, but up!) and dressed and ready to leave. Whenever Eliara looked as though she was ready to hesitate, Senrali just made another comment or question (under the guise of small-talk) that reminded Eliara why she was getting rid of her.

It will be good to see you again! Kizmeth said, and Senrali felt herself grinning widely. It would be so good to see Kizmeth again! But she knew she had to lie down again soon, she was still feeling incredibly weak and lethargic, so she stared impatiently at Eliara, who seemed once again to be hesitating about letting her patient just walk out.

"I don't suppose you could ask your dragon to call the Weyrleader?" Eliara asked. "I can take you to your weyr, but I'd really rather someone was there to make sure you get some rest."

"Message already sent and received!" The voice from the door was so chipper Eliara almost didn't recognize it as the Weyrleader's. But S'vrel had a smile to match the tone, and his pleasure and relief at seeing the Weyrwoman up and about softened Eliara's temper almost enough to forget the worst part of the questions. "I'll be glad to help Senrali back to her weyr, and make sure she isn't getting up every five minutes, either."

"Now that's settled," Eliara said, "a few last instructions, Weyrwoman. When I say rest, I mean rest. A little light work-anything that can be done sitting down, or better yet lying down, is all right."

Senrali smothered a laugh. She could think of some "work" she could do lying down, but no doubt Eliara would not be amused at her errant thought. Not that she really felt up to it. Eliara was continuing.

"No running around, no climbing steps, absolutely no flying, especially not between, for at least the next three days. I'll speak with the kitchen and make sure you get balanced, regular meals brought up, and I will check to make sure you're eating. I'll come by daily, and if there's been no relapse you can gradually begin resuming your regular duties. If you have any, and I mean any, symptoms of a relapse, or anything new, I want to know about it right away. All right?" She paused. "And... well, I'll keep in mind what you mentioned about... certain other people. Maybe you're right. And a the very least I know he'll agree to keep an eye on you for Kizmeth's sake."

Senrali made a face at Eliara, but grinned afterwards. She had enough people keeping an eye on her now, she didn't need more!

S'vrel looked puzzled, but decided not to ask. "Ready to go, Rali?"

"Am I what!" she replied gladly and made her way towards him on legs that felt as if they were made out of lead. But at least she was up and about! She linked her arm through S'vrel's and tried not to lean on him more than necessary as she made her very hasty retreat from the infirmary.

"I thought I was never going to get out of there." When she got outside, there was Kizmeth, hovering eagerly by the door. Archet flew out from behind them and on ahead, warbling happily to be outside again, too.

Senrali let go of S'vrel to go and give Kizmeth a reassuring rub on the head. I'm so sorry I did that, she repeated, for what felt like the thousandth time.

You're better now, you're walking, and you will get stronger, then we will ride again. I heard the healer tell you were are not to fly until she says. Kizmeth sounded strangely stern, almost like an echo of the healer.

Well, I have you to keep me honest. But I need to get to our weyr before I collapse...

"If you're feeling up to it, I can have some food brought over," S'vrel said, "and I can find something from the records room for you to look at. You must have been bored silly in there, once you were feeling better, I mean. There's nothing worse than being grounded, I know." He was babbling, but he found he didn't care. Seeing her up and moving under her own power (for the most part) was so much a relief he didn't care. "Everyone's been so worried. Kasi and Havannah have done a fine job, but they wanted to know how soon you'd be up and about. I think if most of the Weyr wasn't going in fear of our Healer they'd have been poking their nose in more often. I suppose I'm glad she's got most of them scared. I was worrying enough for everyone."

"Food sounds good," Senrali said, sitting down and feeling infinitely relieved that she could get off her feet. She may have been bored out of her mind in the infirmary, but just that short walk had drained her of any energy she had gained. She was looking a bit pale again, but nothing compared to the state she had been in a few days ago. She half-closed her eyes and wondered whether getting her feet up on the bed would take too much energy. It would, especially with her boots on.

She lay back and swung her legs onto her bed, boots and all. Except now she was lying on top of the covers... She closed her eyes and gave up. It was nice just to be horizontal again. And she had enough clothes on not to be cold.

Senrali put down the stylus and stared at the page in front of her. Not that she'd written anything in a good long while. There was only so much work one could do in the Records Room, and she couldn't hide out in here forever. Her klah had gone cold a good hour ago. She'd met with H'ven before secluding herself in here and sorted out the things that he'd needed to know in a very detached, business-like manner. She had let herself become so comfortable and used to her situation before that she could not bring herself to even try and like H'ven. And it wasn't just him she was avoiding right now, either.

But the time for their meeting was drawing near, and she wanted to go back to her weyr to 'freshen up' beforehand.

Where is H'ven now? she asked her dragon, closing the record she had been staring blankly at and putting the stylus away.

In the meeting room, preparing, Kizmeth replied. She was still giving off very satisfied emotions, which at least put her rider in a much better mood than she had been for weeks.

Senrali picked up her half-empty cup of klah and the plate on which she'd put some fresh rolls, which now contained just the last few crumbs, and walked out into the relative brightness of the Lower Caverns. It was early afternoon and there were a fair few people about settling down after a morning's work or getting ready for the afternoon's work. She put her dishes amongst those for cleaning and, with a little spring in her step, made her way out of the Lower Caverns, only to come up against the one person she wished she could avoid more than H'ven right now...

S'vrel was still faintly groggy from the drug the Healer had given him, but not so much he didn't see Rali. Too late to avoid her, but he found he didn't really want to. He'd have to see her, sooner or later, and find out how things were. "Good afternoon, Rali," he said, after a brief, painful internal debate over whether or not to call her "Weyrwoman."

Senrali really didn't know what to say. It was something that had plagued her on and off, and now the dilemma was back. Did she apologise? Did she ask how he was? How Eligath was? Was it any of her business now?

"Good afternoon, S'vrel," she said in response, stalling for time to find something to say. Her stomach both clenched and fluttered. As Weyrwoman there was one topic that she could ask about. "No problems with Eligath this morning? He hasn't injured himself further?" She just stopped herself from apologising for not checking on him sooner. She didn't need to. Of course that didn't stop her from feeling like she should have.

The reminder of Eligath was the last thing he needed, maybe because part of him had wanted his bronze to at least try, however illogical that was. "He's fine," he said, a bit tersely. "Alavid gave him something so he'd sleep through it. His wing's still healing on schedule."

It wasn't fair, it really wasn't. It wasn't as if she could have stopped Kizmeth rising, nor should she have. The Weyr needed a leader who could lead them in Fall now, not weeks from now. And that was just the way it was. He forced himself to unclench, as much as he could. "So... H'ven and Devlith."

Senrali stiffened in response to his terse tone. Perhaps Eligath wasn't quite the most diplomatic topic of conversation. But what was she supposed to ask? How are you? How did you cope with it? No.

And then, when she was nice and tense, he mentioned him. She really needed to get over resenting H'ven, and soon. In the afterglow of the Flight she'd considered him as a possible bed partner, but now - especially after having spent some time alone in close quarters with him - she wished that someone else has flown Kizmeth.

"Yes. H'ven," she said in a non-committal tone. Then she straightened up and even managed a small smile. "We'll see how he stacks up as Weyrleader. He's got a tough example to live up to."

S'vrel was grateful his complexion was dark enough to hide any coloring of his face. "H'ven's a good rider. And Devlith's North Ranges-bred, one of Firinath and Garieth's. They'll be fine." The worst of it was, that was true. "I suppose there's a meeting today? I guess I should attend - ought to find out just what rank I am now."

Did he have to be so bloody generous all the time? She wished that at any point he'd actually seemed human about any of this. Sure he'd been upset - in his way. He'd gone quieter, they'd withdrawn from each other. But she felt like she'd been the only one actually angry about any of this. And when he'd gone on with his 'there's nothing we can do to change it now' attitude, it had just wound her up more. Now here she was, angry at him for not appearing as upset as she thought he should have been.

And before replying she took a breath and stood back to look at her reactions. Goodness, she was turning into Avvie with all these mood swings. She thought that once Kizmeth rose she'd get rid of that niggling anger that seemed to boil below the surface all the time. She thought it had been just the tension of waiting. Now she had to find some other explanation, but later.

"Yes, there's a meeting," she replied, after not too long pause. "Kizmeth said Eligath was asleep when she relayed the message earlier. I forgot to remind her to try again. You don't have long. It's in the meeting room. H'ven is there already."

"So soon?" His voice scaled up a bit, and he coughed to cover it. "Well, best to get things sorted quickly, I suppose."

He wanted to ask about how she liked H'ven personally, but there was no tactful way to do that. Mating flights were one thing. And Senrali was Weyrwoman, which meant she needed to present at least a public front of unity. He felt like an idiot Weyrling and resisted the urge to scuff the floor with the toe of his boot.

"Right, well," she replied, floundering for a moment. "I'd best let you get something to eat. I can't imagine you've had much today. And I was just on my way out..." She took a step back then turned slightly to continue on the course she'd been going. She wanted to look around and see if S'vrel had gone inside, or if he was still standing there, but she didn't. She would see him in the meeting, where she hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed by his demotion. She had talked with H'ven about her recommendations, but the end decision was his. And with S'vrel unable to fly now, she doubted he would be put in charge of a Wing.

"Right." S'vrel didn't move for a moment. He should eat something, really, before the meeting. The Healer would be on him if he didn't, most likely. Part of him wanted to go after Rali, and try to explain that he was sorry, that he'd make it up to her next time - assuming, of course, by then she wanted him to. He sighed, and headed into the Caverns. Best get something on his stomach to cushion the rest of the bad news. At least Eligath, he thought, with just the slightest trace of bitterness, got to sleep through the whole thing.