A Promising Future

[bleedtearsofshame]

OOC: Blah. Not my best, but it's a start! Yay!

IC: At the edge of the Weyrbowl, the hunting pens had finally been constructed and the Feeding Grounds were finally complete. On time, what was more. It had taken a lot of effort on Sitareh's part to ensure that the carpenters had met their deadline. They had been three days behind their schedule before she had been forced to take matters into her own hands. It was simple really: she had merely decided not to let them leave until they had finished. They were allowed to take breaks for meals and water, but they were not permitted to leave their work site until the pens had been finished. Any who tried to run, the Weyrwoman had told them, would be dropped in the middle of the ocean and left to find their own way back.

Her gaze had promised that the threat was sincere, and would be carried out without a hint of remorse. So, under the watchful eye of the queen Aviciath herself, the men had worked two days and two nights without sleep until their work had been completed.

Now, Sitareh was left to survey the result. The pens already contained a small herd of beasts – wild ones discovered by dragonriders on survey duty, and tame ones that had been taken from the local holds. They should have been given freely, and the queenrider felt a slight surge of annoyance at this thought. But it did not matter. The dragonriders had taken the beasts anyways, as what was rightfully owed to them.

Soon enough, Araelen would be receiving regular tithes, and the pens would be flowing with herdbeasts, more than enough to feed a fully populated Weyr.

Until that time, they still had enough to feed their small army of dragons. Indeed, as Sitareh watched, her own beloved Aviciath was hunting among the herd. The queen's hide glinted brightly in the Southern sun, and her lithe body held the promise of the flight to come. Her wings were stretched out to embrace the wind, and her talons closed around the struggling, screaming body of a herdbeast. It did not have a chance, its four legs thrashing wildly as the queen carried her prey to a ledge that overlooked the pen. Here, her neck darted around to sink into flesh, and with one fierce jerk, Aviciath tore out the herdbeast's throat.

Sitareh's lips curved into a smile of pleasure. Aviciath was the last queen, the last hope of dragonkind. From her body would come one clutch and another, future queens and bronzes, browns, blues, and greens. She carried the future. All dragons, from now on, would carry Aviciath's blood in their veins. She alone would save the dragons from extinction.

It was a heady thought, one that send a thrill of power flushing through the queenrider's body. It was enough to make her forget, momentarily, the hides that she had curled in her fingers, her schedule for the day. It was enough to make her forget her plans to meet with healers and local women and begin the collection of herbs and numbweed that would be needed for the Infirmary that was still yet to be built. They would need plenty on hand by the time Threadfall came.

Aviciath lifted her blood-stained muzzle away from the carcass that she had been tearing apart. We will be ready by the time Thread falls from the sky, she said, sensing the concern that Sitareh was able to hide from all others.

The young woman gave a faint smile, brushing away a blond strand of hair that had escaped from its heavy braid. “I know, dear heart. But there is still so much work to be done.”

And you are the perfect woman for the job, came the dragon's complete and utter confidence.

It was enough to chase away the rest of Sitareh's worries. Yes, Aviciath was right. As long as she was in charge, they would be ready. She would push everyone to their limits if she had to, burning up their energies as well as her own, until Araelen was ready. She would build the Weyr and Aviciath would lay her clutches, and together, Pern would survive.

Together, they would prosper. And all would thank them.

[M'kel]

OOC: PAH! It's brilliant!

IC: A rumble of admiration drew M'kel from his reverie, and his mind touched Tirenth's, inquiring as to the source of this attention. Aviciath feeds, the bronze murmured in M'kel's mind, a familiar note used often when speaking of the queen brushed into his tone. The pathetic herdbeasts scramble and collapse at her flight overhead, their mewling cries gone unnoticed, her powerful jaws snapping their bones without effort, her muzzle buried in blood--

"Is she rising, you oaf?!" M'kel chortled nervously, though an urgency drew him immediately off the furs. A flush rose in his cheeks as he scurried from the bedchamber, though a part of him knew the bronze would not be so calm if such were the case.

No, not yet, the bronze replied wistfully, though she glows radiantly all the same. M'kel spotted his silly bronze perched on the edge of his weyr, peering over the ledge like a Weyrling afraid to take flight, avidly watching the queen's progress through her meal.

"You would find her hide radiant even if it was covered in mud," M'kel joked, striding up to stroke the bronze head briefly. Tirenth turned his head slightly into the caresses, but his attention could not be diverted. "You know, you could actually go talk to her for once." The sudden increase in speed in the whirling of Tirenth's eyes and their shift in colour to an orange of alarm caused M'kel to laugh out loud, and he gave the dragon one last loving pat before making his way down the stairs. "That's what I'm off to do!"

Another rumble followed the young dragonrider down the stairs. Upon reaching the floor of the Bowl, M'kel glanced back, chuckling once again at the barely visible bronze snout poking out over the ledge. His eyes scanned the Bowl, searching for that striking blonde figure, and his breath quickened upon sighting her. Moments with Sitareh were few since arrival at Araelen, for the establishment of a new Weyr was no simple matter. Nevertheless, M'kel needed every opportunity to impress this Weyrwoman, for her opinion might sway her dragon's, and M'kel was destined to be Weyrleader.

"They finally finished this shardin' enclosure, did they?" he called as he neared, just the right amount of disdain touching his tone, for he knew she'd appreciate it. Although the dragonrider had found the speed of the workers, even before their 'pep talk', quite reasonable, he knew that Sitareh would have deemed it pathetic. The extent of her ambitions for power were still slowly becoming known, even to him, though M'kel could tell her reign would be much more dictatorial than her predecessors'. If he too shared that power, the bronzerider would have not a problem with such a situation. Unconsciously, M'kel reached up to brush back his hair into what he deemed a more appealing manner, and he put on his most charming grin. "I see Aviciath is enjoying the beasts."

[bleedtearsofshame]

The voice that reached Sitareh's ears was easily recognizable, and looking over her shoulder, she cast the approaching bronzerider a warm smile. "M'kel," she greeted him with a nod, her fingers already beginning to curl her schedule hides into little tubes.

The disdain in the other's voice was the perfect note to strike with the goldrider, who tossed her head smugly as she replied, "Aye, it's a wonder they even finished the pens at all. I swear, I've never seen a lazier group of crafters than what we have to work with here. But with a little persuasion, they came around. Now, with the pens finally ready, I want them filled as soon as possible."

Sitareh knew that business was the last thing that her bronzeriders wished to discuss with her, but there was too much that they needed to accomplish. Still, even with business on the mind, the queenrider was talented enough to ensure that she kept her suitors wrapped suitably around her fingers. M'kel, she promised herself, would soon be just as smitten as the other males.

He admired her, this could be seen quite easily within his eyes. M'kel appreciated her physical attributes, and she recognized that spark of ambition in his eyes. Like called to like. All of the bronzeriders desired her favor, hoping to influence the outcome of Aviciath's first flight. They wanted the power of Weyrleadership. They had no idea that Sitareh had no intention of sharing it. She wanted a Weyrleader who was strong enough to rule beside her, but who was intelligent to know that the TRUE power lay within her hand, and her hand alone.

Sitareh dropped her voice to a small murmur, allowing her brown eyes to sparkle with admiration of her own. "I am glad that you have come. I wanted to speak to you. I am in need your help."

[M'kel]

Despite the stern, cold expressions that masked her features when commanding her army of workers, Sitareh could soften remarkably into the picture of radiance and grace. Upon seeing him, it seemed, she had diverted her attention fully from its typical focus. This, and the way her eyes lit up, her lips creasing in a smile, warmed M'kel noticeably. He was surprised and delighted that she was responding so to him. It was a sign that his efforts were proving successful, for he swore the Weyrwoman didn't light up so in the presence of the other bronzeriders.

As she spoke, appreciative of his tone just as he'd hoped, M'kel noticed a sparkle in her eyes. She relished her position of power, true, but she also enjoyed the simple things that came with leadership. There was a different kind of beauty he was beginning to notice about her, beyond physical attributes. Shrewd, intelligent, yet...with a softer side. This is what drew him on. It was dangerous to surpass mere attraction, he knew, but, M'kel was struggling.

At Sitareh's mention of her need for his assistance, M'kel strove to suppress the sheer, puppy-like eagerness that erupted in his limbs. His eyes sparked with interest and excitement. Any task she may have for him, if completed beyond expectations, could gain her respect. How he desired her respect, even her returned admiration. The goal was within his grasp. This could be the final step he needed. "Anything, Weyrwoman," he murmured, the anticipation taut in his voice. "I am always at your service." This was accompanied by a slight bow and a flourish.

[bleedtearsofshame]

If Sitareh had been the giggling, simpering type of girl, she would have tossed her head and giggled at the way that M'kel reacted, as expected, to her words. All bronzeriders, all men in fact, seemed to have little cords attached to their bodies (and therefore their minds), and this queenrider loved knowing which strings to manipulate and tug, just enough to have them hopping along to her tunes.

But M'kel was slightly more difficult that the average bronzerider. He reacted just as any man might, the admiration in his gaze was mingled with his own goals, his own desires, and there was a core of strength that promised a hidden stubbornness. M'kel was just like any other man - except he kept his plans to himself. There were hints of secret thoughts lurking in the depths of his eyes, and this made him slightly more challenging.

It did not matter, though. Sitareh relished challenges, just as she relished the eventual conquest. M'kel had his assets, just as he had just flaws. Like any other man. She would make his admiration for her twist and grow into something more, she would make it blossom into worship. But the golden haired woman knew that she would have to proceed carefully. It mustn't be too obvious.

Her voice stayed just as soft as before, as if she was afraid of being overheard. "I originally had you assigned to helping gather supplies for the Weyr, in charge of filling these pens with beasts from the Holds." Sitareh gave her head a slight shake, rolling her eyes contemptuously as if amazed at her own silly thoughts.

"But I think that I can trust you to do something more important then convince Holders to give up their herds. Such a task can always be handled by another bronzerider, or even a brown. I need you for something bigger."

It was fun to dance around in such a way. Of course, Sitareh had jobs for every one of her bronzeriders, and she presented each one as if the entire Weyr's survival was dependent upon their own task. Each was in charge of a mission, everything from hunting to charting to gather Sand for the hatching grounds. No matter how silly the task actually was, the Weyrwoman treated it as a matter of grave importance, a matter of urgency that required perfection - and thus the bronzeriders were each convinced that she favored them above all. Each one was convinced that they, and they alone, were helping to build Araelen alongside of its Weyrwoman.

But this time, Sitareh actually did have an important mission, one that truly required perfection because it was one of urgency. "You know that we've been having trouble with the local Holders in the area. The Lords and the Masters don't want to believe that Thread is returning. They don't want to believe that dragonriders have a purpose here, and thus they are doing their best to foil us at every turn. I want to change that. I want to set up a Conclave, a meeting between the Weyr and the Lords and the Craftsmen. We need to settle our differences. We need to show them that the Weyr is their only hope. We need their respect and their obedience."

The faintest flush crossed her cheeks, angry again in spite of herself at the very thought of the disrespect being shown towards the Weyr. It would change though.... "I want my best bronzeriders to stand at my side for this meeting."

I want you to stand at my side, was what her eyes were telling him, even as the words continued to pour out from her lips. "And I need your help in setting this up. I need someone that I can depend on to help find a suitable location. None will want to meet at the Weyr, and all of the Lords will want their own Hold to host the meeting. I need them to realize that such a meeting is vital. And I need to convince them that we are their own hope of survival."

The queenrider paused, turning the full force of her brown-eyed gaze to M'kel, looking into his eyes as if she were trying to see his very thoughts. Searching, as if she were looking for a sign that she truly could depend on him.

[M'kel]

Eager ears soaked up every word Sitareh carefully let fall, though his eyes studied her intently all the while. There was almost something...off...about her speech. Her manner was almost...transparent...revealing plans and perhaps...manipulations. M'kel was all too used to the conniving plots of others, having grown up in an entirely competitive, power-hungry environment. He knew that the Weyrwoman was manipulating the bronzeriders, for otherwise so many would not have jumped forward and leaped at her every command. He had always been aware of this, though he tended to let it slide.

The matter was simple. Sitareh was flirting with all of them to gain their obedience, but the prize was still there at the finish line. M'kel didn't mind being an eager and willing servant for now, because he was certain to excel. Just as she undoubtedly led him by the nose without his realizing it at times, he, too, was confident that he was roping her in just as subtly. He was a willing participant in the dance she wove for him, for his skill at it might win him the Weyrleadership. The puppetmaster never expected her puppets to exceed her expectations, and he may earn her admiration for it. The lad was only just beginning to realize how desperately he hoped for that, perhaps even beyond his desires for Weyrleadership.

The promise in her eyes transcended her words, and M'kel doubted that those intoxicating brown depths could so easily disguise her true emotions. It was one thing to control one's voice and posture, another to hide the truth from one's eyes. It was why he always focussed on hers; he was searching her soul. What he saw so far was both enticing and reassuring. She did look at him differently. Even if it was only a slight difference, for now.

Little did he know, her eyes were seeking the same information from him. It was like a hypnotic spell, one he could not turn away from. Just as he sought to view the inner workings of her mind, he was undoubtedly revealing his own.

The young dragonrider nodded slightly at her concluding request. "I would be honoured, Sitareh, to arrange this conclave. It would certainly require a suitable location, but I wonder at the wisdom of choosing a neutral ground. Should we not demonstrate, from the beginning, that they must acknowledge and bow to our power?" His voice gained strength as he spoke, his dreams of their new Pern becoming solidified in his words. "Certainly we should not go to them, for they must be summoned by us. It will be difficult this first time, but it will also teach them their place. If not the Weyr, I suggest a location more remote. A place only dragons can get to. Thus, the Lord Holders and Mastercrafters will already be dependent on us, for travel to and from their homes." Realizing how bold he was being, the young bronzerider paused, unconsciously searching her eyes for some sign of approval.

[bleedtearsofshame]

M'kel's eyes returned her gaze just as intensely, and Sitareh had the feeling that he wasn't fooled by her wiles. Something in his expression warned her that he had seen through her attempts at pulling him along - seen it and accepted it. He was smart enough to recognize her attempts at manipulation, but he wasn't going to fight.

Still, there was no reason for the queenrider to complain. He was going to go along with her plans in hopes of gaining a step over his competition - with the prize of Weyrleadership dangling in front of him. M'kel wasn't wrapped around her finger yet - he was merely trying to be pleasing. She would have to be subtle with dealing with this man. Promises of intrigues within the bed furs would not draw him in, and she was not the type to share the power that she was slowly building. Sitareh would have to find another way. It was something to think about in her spare moments.

But M'kel's suggestion drove away all thoughts of manipulation, and Sitareh gave a pleased exclamation. "Yes!" she said, and the rolled up hides smacked her thigh. "That's exactly that I was hoping for. I don't want to bring them to Araelen, not until we have it finished. I want them to see our splendor and marvel at what we have built from nothing. I don't want them to see the workers building, the dragons carrying rock and ore, dragonriders pitching in right alongside of the crafters we are paying... No. They will not be impressed. They will see that we are not as powerful as we should be, and they will treat us accordingly."

She smiled, nodding her head gently as she accepted the truth of M'kel's words. "We will make them dependent on us for travel, and we can do this under the guise of neutral territory, a place where all of the Lords and Masters are equal to one another. And we shall show them why they must depend on us."

Pleased, the queenrider favored her companion with a broad grin, more herself than she had been only moments ago. "You have wits, bronzerider, and you use them well. I knew that you were the right man for the job. I can trust you to find a suitable location then?"

[M'kel]

Sitareh's eyes lit up with a spark akin to delight, and her manner changed abruptly. No longer businesslike, smooth, and shrewd, the Weyrwoman was exhibiting unrehearsed emotions. That he had managed to surprise Sitareh so, drawing her away her practiced approach to all bronzeriders, pleased M'kel. For the first time, he truly believed he had what it took to win more than favour. Confidence and arrogance aside, the bronzerider had wondered if she really saw him as different from the others. He had been striving to elicit a different response from her, rather than the usual seductive air, for some time, but this was his first success. He was seeing the true Sitareh, and he delighted in it.

As she contemplated his suggestion out loud, ruling out the use of Araelen Weyr as a meeting ground, the bronzerider felt that grudging respect brim once again. He had to admit that her analysis of situations was impressive, and her intelligence surpassed mere manipulation. She would accomplish everything she set out to with these Lord Holders and Crafters, and he would help her to do it. Then, he would be rewarded, at long last. If the conclave came after Aviciath's flight and he was already Weyrleader, his reward would undoubtedly be a share in that power she relished so. It was his due.

M'kel nodded as she pursued his dependent transport idea, glad that she so willingly agreed. Her compliment caused a heat to rise in his face, though he barely flushed, and the young rider felt like sighing at his own reaction. Hah! came the triumphant snort from Tirenth, as his rider exhibited reactions just as foolish and youthful as his own. At this, the bronzerider grinned, though it was also in response to Sitareh's grin.

"Thank you, Sitareh," he murmured, bowing slightly in acceptance of her gracious words. "I shall, of course, find a location that suits our needs. Tirenth and I shall search the mountain range for a ledge or appropriate valley. We can take you and Aviciath to view it prior to the conclave, if you wish." His smile softened, and he paused to soak in the reality of her a moment longer before the mask resumed itself.