crippled with questions [lithe/l’vey]

[Zen]

It didn’t take long for rumors to swarm around the newest clutch. Iiateth had just clutched two days ago, but already news that all of Iiateth’s eggs were gold had gotten around. Naturally, Ever had heard of the news first besides the very first informants. She knew almost all of the nitty gritty facts and easily remembered most of them. But she still couldn’t figure out how in the name of Faranth’s egg all of the eggs had ended up gold. Having stood for the first clutch and having seen Iiateth’s strange golden egg hatch into… well, a strange not-golden dragon, she was dying to know. Well, not literally dying. Ever’d seen enough death in all of her Turns of living at Warden’s, but the last couple months had more than doubled her number of deaths. These weren’t even detox deaths, either. Some people might have died in the detox area, but certainly no one had died from detox during that time.

Or maybe someone had. At that time, Ever had sort of been out of sorts with flightlust.

But now was not then. Now certainly was not then, and now had a much more pressing matter. And on top of that, she’d lost L’vey. With a guard following her, Ever had tumbled through most of the Weyr searching for the dual Candidate- and Weyrlingmaster with little luck. The man had just vanished. Into thin air. Not even the thin, cold air of between. She couldn’t just go and ask Leshta what in Faranth’s name was up with Iiateth’s egg—the guard would never let her get close enough to the Weyrwoman (even if, technically, Leshta was no longer Weyrwoman) to ask—and she had a hunch that no one knew. Not even L’vey himself, but she had to talk to someone.

“We’ve got to be getting back soon.” The guard, a man she’d befriended early on in her life at the ‘Weyr,’ and who had miraculously escaped death, said worriedly.

Ever looked at him over her shoulder, flashing a smile, “I’m sure he’ll show up. Perhaps if we wait near his rooms?” The guard looked skeptical and Ever pouted, “You’ve never known me to do anything bad, have you?”

The guard sighed and massaged a temple. “No, I don’t believe so. The past couple months have gotten me.”

“I can second that, but I need to know what to expect, as I’m going to be a Candidate again.” Ever declared, sighing heavily.

By now the two had reached L’vey’s rooms. The guard told Ever to stand with her back to the wall, to place her back on the wall, and her hands against it. It was all procedural, even though she’d never done anything wrong in all of her Turns of being here. She did so, easily falling into the position. He didn’t even care, not looking at her as he lounged next to her. “You’re lucky to be a Candidate, ya know. After all of this. Maybe you’ll Impress this time through.”

Ever shrugged. “At least it’s something good to think about.” And the guard couldn’t complain.

[lithle]

L'vey and Faeth had been out flying. They'd taken to doing so lately, though it was rather frivilous. L'vey needed to clear his head and being above everything allowed him to think without the weight of the recent events dragging him into depression. He needed clarity, if they were going to do things right this next time. And he needed things to go right.

The last time had been rough. Resentment. Anger. Unmet expectations. And now, one of them had left. One of the prisoner Weyrlings. That, he could explain to himself. But, K'bay. That made it even harder. He kept running that last meeting through his head, kept trying to understand.

But no, he could make no sense of it. She'd been a good enough student, perhaps a little impulsive. But not a criminal! Not one to throw her lot in with killers. Yet she'd gone.

She'd gone.

No. He'd do better this time. This time, things would work or he'd resign his position.

Yes. That would only be right. They'd landed now, near his weyr. He didn't notice his guests until after he'd removed Faeth's flight straps and rested his forehead briefly against her hide. It was then he turned, taking note of those waiting near his door.

The guard he didn't recognize. But Ever, in her red prisoner outfit, had stood at the last hatching.

"May I help you?" he asked, his voice quiet and only mildly curious.

[Zen]

Oh. No wonder why she hadn’t been able to find him! The guard looked up at the greenrider and offered a ‘humph’ of some sort of emotion she couldn’t understand. But Ever wasn’t angry at the greenrider. He had been out flying. He was perfectly fine to go out. Shards, if she could get out of this Weyr, then she’d probably be out flying, too. Like Bailey and Jayne were. The two were as close as brothers.

“Hello, Greenrider L’vey.” Ever said as he drew close enough for her to talk to him. The guard stiffened and she touched his arm lightly. To think, a guard guarding her from a dragonrider. She knew he wasn’t protecting the dragonrider from her. That’s what she got from being friends with guards. “I’m okay to go with L’vey, yes?”

Her question startled the guard, who hastily nodded. “I guess, as long as you come back to me when you’ve finished.”

She gave him the most charming smile she could come up with before turning back to L’vey. “I’m sorry to intrude on you, but I have some questions. You’re the only one I… well, you’re the only one I felt safe enough to go talk to.”

[lithle]

"Yes, yes, of course." While more accustomed to going to speak to the prisoners, instead of having them come to him, L'vey was more than happy to speak to a potential candidate. Indeed, he'd already been considering the potential necessity of having one-on-one meetings with all those who had interest in standing, prisoner or no. The rules were unique at Warden's the situation complex.

He wanted them to know what they were getting into. He wanted them to be ready to accept their role in the Weyr.

He wanted them not to run. They'd lost two. It wouldn't happen again. And L'vey was ready to personally screen every potential candidate if it prevented it from happening again. It was, in fact, what Leshta had asked of him. He'd have done it anyway, but the request from a friend gave it extra impact.

"Please, Ever, make yourself comfortable." The area outside his Weyr was not particularly made for guests, but he gestured to the shadowed space beneath a nearby tree and took a seat there himself. He sat cross-legged, his hands resting lightly on his knees. He looked tired, but otherwise, the depression was hidden beneath habitual solemnity. "What did you wish to discuss?"

[Zen]

Ever nodded, her head bobbing easily. “Yes, L’vey.” She declared easily as she trotted over to the tree and sat below it, making sure she sat in the shade. If there was one thing Ever hated about the red jump-suits she had to wear (but in fact there was more than one thing she hated about them), it was the heat she felt whenever she even though about sitting in the sun. She practically sweated just thinking about sitting in the sun in the stupid red material. Soon she’d be a Weyrling (yes, she still clung to that hope, despite the newest revelations), and soon she’d wear yellow. That would be better than anything in the world. Besides making sure her father knew she was better than what he had ever thought of her.

That thought made her rub her uninjured hand across the healed one, tracing the outlines of the stubs. “I wish to discuss the upcoming hatching.”

Then she coughed and turned it into a half-hearted laugh. “No, actually, I wish to discuss the eggs. It is true that Iiateth’s eggs are all golden, right?” She didn’t tell him where she’d gotten the facts. She shouldn’t have to tell him, he should know that those here the longest were the most informed. “Will we be able to Stand? I’ve heard that the Weyrlings, the new colors, they didn’t learn betweening. Will you just outright cripple the hatchlings before they have the choice? Will M’onk interfere with the hatchings, or will he be just like… like Warden?” She didn’t like M’onk. He came at a time where she found that she hated nearly everyone. All of her friends deserted her; no, that wasn’t true, not all of them, just the ones that didn’t matter. But Warden’s death struck a chord in her heart. He had allowed her to keep Bailey. And keep Jayne. What would M’onk do to her or her firelizards? What would he do to her future dragon?

[lithle]

Not one to interrupt except in the most urgent of circumstances, L'vey allowed Ever's questions to tumble out of her uninhibited. He was thinking, despite himself, of the last hatching. No, that wasn't true. He was thinking of the last touching, when Semith had been bright with excitement and the candidates were only hopefuls, only potential not yet fully explored.

Touchings were about potential. Hatchings were something else entirely. They could be joyous, or, like the one at which Ever had last stood, they could be shocking and a cause for deep concern. And Semith's last had only become more-so as time passed.

And what do I tell her? He reached out mentally for Faeth as he always did while troubled. A man of unwavering convictions, yes, but even he had his rock to lean on.

What you can. But you're missing the point, my silly boy. This is about what the Weyrwoman asked of you.

Not that anymore.

Ever had finished speaking.

"I see you've been hearing plenty of rumors. And I will answer your questions as best I can," he paused, turning things over in his mind. "But first, answer something for me. If any of it were true, if the eggs were gold, if the dragons crippled or not taught to between, if you were to remain imprisoned regardless of impression, would you change your decision to stand?"

[Zen]

“I—uh,” it was easy to say that Ever was caught off-guard. She looked at the greenrider with confusion in her eyes. Her hand unconsciously traced its way around the edges of her injured hand. It was a habit she had to stop but didn’t know how to. Of course. She wasn’t stumped for long, though. Her eyes hardened and she looked at L’vey with resolve.

“No matter what would happen, I would still Stand.” She said earnestly. She couldn’t just say it without meaning it. Perhaps this time her dragon was in the clutch. Or perhaps it was the fact that her father’s invisible eyes were staring at her, making her want to do good. Either way, she needed this, and she found that the more she needed it, the more resolve she felt.

“I can’t have gone through everything, losing my hand, the breakout, and now this… I can’t have gone through everything just to back out now.” She said, her eyes brittle as she looked at him. “I understand your questioning, too. I won’t back down. I don’t think I ever had the ability to.” And then she sighed as she tried to stop messing with her hand. It didn’t work. “I understand if you can’t answer my questions. Everyone’s been hush-hush since… the breakout. I just needed to be reassured... of something."

[lithle]

When Ever finished speaking, L'vey gave another of his brief, formal nods, his expression remaining serious and thoughtful. Nothing to be read there. His expression was always serious and thoughtful. He was a creature made for serious thought.

Maybe he'd had fun once, when he was young. It was hard to say just by looking at him.

"I, too, needed reassurance and I thank you for it." Yes, he'd certainly need to meet with the other candidates, he decided. Prisoner and no. This time he would be fore-warned of any problems that might arise after certain prisoners impress. Unlike the disaster of the first post impression meeting he'd had with his current Weyrlings. They were still a fairly dissatisfied bunch and he blamed himself. Somehow, he'd not let them know what they were in for.

"To answer your question, yes, Iiateth's eggs appear rather golden. We think it might be some quirk specific to opals, though it is unknown territory. You'll see them soon enough."

He was quiet a moment, considering her other questions. Oh, how things grew in the telling.

"Neither prisoners nor those who impressed to irregular colors are being taught to between. Those were Warden V'tya's orders and we continue to respect them." He stopped, remembering that conversation. Remembering the shock, the anger. Remembering, mostly, the Warden alive. It was still very painful.

"I can not tell you what to expect of Overseer M'onk. But he's a man of honor, who's done much in the service of Pern and continues to do so. No dragonrider would think to cripple a dragon without reason. I believe even Warden V'tya, who suggested the punishment, believed that such a threat would be enough to keep it from ever needing to be used."

"And now we have two Outlaw Dragonriders. If they are caught--" he shook his head. "Regardless, you'll be permitted to stand. That has not changed."

[Zen]

L’vey’s face didn’t change. It made her feel slightly off that she didn’t see even a glimmer of anything different coming from him. She’d just declared that she’d sell her soul for a dragon but his face had barely changed. She blinked at him in confusion but she did nothing. Perhaps it was all his façade. She would have a façade, too, if one of her Weyrlings blew the coop and she could do nothing to stop it. She would have a façade if she found out that a mutant dragon color had clutched all golden eggs.

“I guess not being taught to between is for the best.” Ever murmured under her breath, toying with her bright red jumpsuit. She had never felt less liked than she did when she thought about limitations to even her dragon. “A prisoner could learn to escape easily if a dragon is taught to between.”

And if she was caught, her dragon would be crippled. It was all for the better. She looked closely at her hands. Scrutinized them with sharp eyes. “Everything changed when Warden…” Ever bit her lip. “And then Iiateth. Another change. At least some things haven’t changed. Not sure if I want to lose more of my hand—or my other hand.” A try on a joke. Ever didn’t care so much about her hand anymore. It had been a while since the last hatching, and she’d gotten over it with little trouble.

“My dad’s a Lord Holder.” Ever said innocently enough, “I’ve learned to question leader’s abilities because of him. I guess that's why I questioned M'onk." She paused in talking for a second. "And I stole from a Dragon Watchman. I know why I did it. To make my father look at me. To feel loved. I... I don't know. I haven't stolen since... because he's not here I ugess.” Her fingers twined together. Would he think of her differently because of that? She suddenly realized that this was what she needed in order to move on. She needed to tell someone who... well, who wasn't dead.

[lithle]

Faeth had been keeping her distance, relaxing near where she'd landed. Now she began to make her way toward the tree, stopping about ten feet away and laying down, watching the conversation through slowly whirling eyes.

Tell the young lady that questioning leadership amounts to no good. I'll not have another of my girls flying off to live in the forest like a savage.

That had hurt her deeply. Hurt both of them deeply.

Oh, love. She struggles. We all struggle. He glanced over at the dragon, gave a gentle little shake of his head and returned his focus to Ever.

"You must take ownership of your actions, Ever." His tone was gentle but firm. "You must learn not to steal not because your Father's not here to impress or anger, but because you know it is wrong."

He allowed that statement to sink in a moment before continuing. "Much of learning to be a good dragonrider is about obedience. If you impress, I will be the leader you look to. If you graduate and choose that path, it will be your Squadleader. And it will always be M'onk or whoever takes his place as leader of this Weyr. You will find yourself struggling if you must question each who has the charge of you."

[Zen]

Ever sat in nearly-stunned silence of what he said. She blinked a couple times and even her finger’s restless tracings ceased for a second. She blinked some more times. And then she hung her head. She knew that she had to take ownership. She knew that. She just couldn’t, could she? Not now? She blinked uneasily at him and then heaved a large breath.

“I understand.” She answered. It was just so hard to pretend that her past didn’t happen that she couldn’t understand how to trust authority. Her father wasn’t the best man in the world. In fact, her father was the worst man in the world.

She continued to wonder about things when he said something about a squadleader. She fiddled with her red jumpsuit. “Okay then,” She said, her voice a lot calmer than she thought she could be, “I’m a prisoner now, but when I Impress I’ll become a probationary free person, wearing yellow. When I graduate, I’ll be free, but I’ll be kept here at the Weyr. Will I ever be able to amount to the position of Squadleader myself? Will I be treated as equal?”

[lithle]

"We are all products of our actions, Ever," L'vey said. His words as ever, were soft. There was no accusation in them. "If you hope to someday walk without the weight of the past against your shoulders, I fear you will be disappointed. None of us are without such burdens."

Certainly, he was all to aware of his own failures, especially those of the recent past.

Yes, he'd never forget that he'd lost two students to the jungle. It would always be a part of him, that failure. And if Ever could somehow lose that part of her that had been a thief, she was stronger than he.

"But I fear you have been a little misinformed," he added, tone slightly more conversational, less philosophical. "Once the weyrlings graduate, they are free to go, even those who were once prisoners. It is only that most Weyrs will not accept such riders. But, there is always the option of establishing a new weyrhold, difficult though that life is. There are always options, Ever. Our limitations are nets we weave ourselves."

Whether they were woven from crime or an over abundance of guilt, did it really matter?

[Zen]

Ever was silent for a short time. She looked out at nothing. She wondered nothing. If she would have been thinking, she certainly wouldn’t have thought about what Bailey or Jayne was doing. She wouldn’t have thought about the guard standing closer to her than ever now. He was getting uncomfortably close. But Ever couldn’t care at this point in time.

She sighed as she took in the information. Once she’d graduated, she was free to go.

Pshaw. If they didn’t cripple the dragons in the first place. Seriously, she’d heard the dragons in this clutch weren’t learning betweening or something. That was crippling enough. But the freedom of flight. The freedom of not being tethered to the ground. The feeling of a dragon’s mind next to your own—your equal but not. It was wonderful, a wonderful thought. One Ever tried to indulge in that thought daily.

A smile slid slowly onto her mouth. She pushed her blond hair behind her ears. “I understand. For who would want a former thief?” She asked as she stretched her arms languidly above her, reaching far up as she thought about what she’d said. “I’m not searching for remorse. I know what I’m in here for.” Shards, everyone did. She was one of the oldest-seated prisoners, one of the ones that anyone knew even right out of detox, and she had no qualms about that. In fact, she loved that she could help people and hoped that she could continue to do so for as long as she should live. Dragon or not.

“I’m not leaving.” Ever said, dropping her arms, a weird half-smile. “I’ve grown too fond of Warden’s. Besides,” she remarked sardonicly, “everyone would miss me!”

The guard stifled a giggle. Ever cast a glance at him, suddenly remembering that she was a prisoner and he was watching her. She glanced down at her red jumpsuit but thought little of it. She shot a smile up at the guard before turning back to L’vey. “You’re right. Everything you said is right. But I have a few more questions.” She’d never asked him, and she wanted to know. “When you first saw the new colors, what did you think?”

[lithle]

The shift from almost plaintive curiosity to playful bravado left stolid, consistent L'vey a bit confused. But then, he wasn't a young, unimpressed woman. He was a middle-aged man, for whom duty had become both chain and salvation. Leave the laughter for the young and he could only hope they would find comfort in it at a difficult time.

But now Ever's question was bringing her back to Semith's previous clutch. Another difficult time.

How had he felt when the first of the irregulars hatched? That'd been Iiateth, tucked behind her mother's wing, a pale, fragile rainbow.

And what had she brought them? A clutch of golden eggs, yes. But also the chaos of her flight, and its consequences. They'd be prepared, next time. How could they have known?

And now, with the looks of another opal in Semith's clutch, plus the mystery that was Iiateth's, there was all the more to be prepared for.

"First? First I thought Iiateth looked to go between and worried for it. As the grays started hatching, and the people in the stands started to mutter--" He shrugged, just slightly. "I thought about guards, and whether the barracks could house everyone, and where to get a dragon healer. The Weyrlings are my charges, Ever, whatever color. My thoughts were for their safety and health. They still are."

[Zen]

Ever’s sigh was long and slow.

“I never thought the new colors any different from the old,” Ever said as she remembered looking at the new colors with a sense of awe—and of pain, as she was trying not to die from excessive blood loss. “At least not mentally.”

She was silent for one, long moment later before nodding to herself. “Thank you, L’vey. I think that you’ve answered all of my questions.”

She pushed herself up from her sitting position into a standing one. The guard stepped back. “I think I needed that.”

More than she could tell him. More than anything. She gave him a smile before turning to go. “Come on, guard.” She said, a faint sense of a smile in her voice, “It’s time to go.”