Warning: Language, Suggestive Material, Innuendo

Ierne Weyrhold - Marketplace

A wide square full of shops and stores and sidewalk vendors of all types. Mostly Traders who specialise in certain items or Crafters who wanted a place in which to market their wares. Due to the WeyrHold being a major trade center, its an ideal place for something like this, open all turn round rather then just people selling during gathers.

Zuvaleyuth senses that Wiyaneth's thoughts reach out, drifting across Pern as the older queen stretches herself. Like autumn breezes, her mind carries a hint of chill as she moves, touching upon dragon minds she knows. A blue in Southern, a bronze from Benden, a green in Igen, and another blue soaring over Ista. Her thoughts are cast out like an expanding blanket of clouds, mental winds whipping at the ocean and moving through the tops of the trees. Searching for Zuvaleyuth, and asking any mind she touches if they've seen Fort's newest Senior.

Wiyaneth senses that Zuvaleyuth's mind is certainly there, able to be reached by those who seek, not hiding at all. The cool chill of her aurora, certainly more mature now, is like a gentle wisp as it reaches out to slowly twine with the gentle breeze of her grand dam's mind as she branches out far enough reach. « Good morn, oh dam of the place in which has housed us since the beginning, the first of many. Search no longer, thy mind touches my own, a gentle but welcome touch. She, » an indication hf her rider, a perfect image of the woman settled somewhere, with no indication or hints of what place they are at, is curled up with her hands over her head and blocking out the world, « longs for peace in which silence offers best, a conflict of interests, a war of mind and heart. Time, a priceless commodity, sought by Dtirae. Far more than she can afford. »

Zuvaleyuth senses that Wiyaneth's mind firms the link with iron bands wrapped in summer breezes when she finds Zuvaleyuth's own thoughts. There is a moment of silence, of an empty vastness with only the wind moving through long grasses before she speaks, and as she does thunder rumbles on the distant horizon, more sensed that seen, with a whiff of impending rain. A storm approaches. « You and yours are needed back in Fort, » the older ivory gold queen says firmly, with a bare hint of her previous position tickling the back of her thoughts. « You must return. »

Wiyaneth senses that Zuvaleyuth's mind remains light, gingerly flowing and banding around the strengthened bond, the aurora in the backdrop of her mind dancing mildly, twitching at the firmness in the older gold's tone, growing more rigid and certainly not as graceful. « It is as if she is bond to the spot in which she laid er head to rest, tendrils of the ground have snaked up binding her. Unmoving, limbs refuse to listen to the calls made to her by the place in which we originate. Thy calls will not move her, just as my own ring out, unanswered. »

Zuvaleyuth senses that Wiyaneth is unmoved by Zuvaleyuth's description of Dtirae's condition. « You're bigger than she is, » the older queen says dryly, though there is no amusement in her voice. « Pick her up and bring her home, so she can do her duty to her weyr. » Curt and to the point, Wiyaneth still keeps the storm at bay, as well as the flickers of pain as she stretches out her wings, preparing for flight.

Wiyaneth senses that Zuvaleyuth's mists flicker, and the aurora dances about as laughter slips forth, just for that moment. « And, small things slips where the big cannot reach, mindful of their grasp and abilities. Faulty is the nature of such a request. An attempt shall be made in which to drag her forth, she understands the tasks which now lay upon her shoulders. Shame, such is the feeling that binds her. »

The flight at Fort has brought forth new leadership, at least, in the form of the Weyrwoman. And said Weyrwoman is away from her Weyr, and has been since the flight. No packing, however, and just enough marks to manage a few meals and a change of clothes were on her person. In the market place is where the young woman sits, settled out of the reaches of her lifemate, who is pacing about impatiently, waiting for the woman to get her wits about her, apparently. Dtirae does mimic the impatient pacing of her lifemate in the form of her leg bouncing restlessly while her fingers tap on the empty mug settled between her hands.

Zuvaleyuth senses that Wiyaneth is getting frustrated, but rather than lash out, the older queen only draws back, her voice taking on chillier tones, the storm rumbling as snow whips across the sun drenched plains. « If she does not stop acting like a spoiled child, then me and mine shall pick up those tasks off her frail shoulders, and tend to things ourselves. /We/ will be Senior, if yours continues to simper and hide and you continue to allow her to do so. Which is better for Fort? A fertile gold who has abandoned her weyr? Or an infertile queen who is HERE? » In Wiyaneth's mind, the choice is clear.

Wiyaneth senses that Zuvaleyuth's idle mists, gentle as they were are no longer a gentle reminder of the cold, turning to the frost in which an aurora is naturally seen, cold and frigid, to match the irritation of the elder gold. « Abandonment, the definition of leaving for entirety, leaving for certainty, in which one has no intent on returning to where they had once placed their heads to rest. Abandonment implies no intention of returning. » For once, the gold articulates her words, not flowing in a sentence that leaves one scratching their head in question. « She /will/ return. Have patience. It is /our/ Weyr. »

Zuvaleyuth senses that Wiyaneth's voice is curt, « Not until you are here. » Then the older queen cuts the link with the severity of lopping off someone's head. Done. Gone.

Popping out of the blue and circling down to land outside of Ierne Weyrhold, is a queen who trumpets that she is Seryth from Xanadu, as is standard for riders visiting abroad. There is no ceremony and no one to greet them, a fact which satisfies the rider upon her back immensely. It isn't until she has stowed her goggles, keeping on gloves and jacket as it is winter here, then dismounted and is passing the other queen that the Weyrwoman of Xanadu notices the restless movement. She gives the gold a glance, shrugs and continues on her way. Pacing isn't all that unusual and no doubt each queen has her own particular habits, but since this one is unrecognized a silent query is sent to her own lifemate and a bare nod registers that her very brief curiosity has been answered. She's here to shop and her stride is purposeful as she enters the complex, heading for the marketplace and without her Senior's knot, which has been shoved into her pocket as she arrived, she could be anyone - unless you knew her or saw her arrive. Her steps take her right by where Dtirae sits and she'd probably have passed without noticing her save for the flick of fingers against that mug that catch her eye, recognition halting her. The tension is noted, which draws her closer, her voice quiet enough to be heard by only the two of them in the bustling square but her smile is warm, "Hello. It's Dtirae, isn't it?"

Brief meetings are enough for some to remember faces, so when Thea settles and offers the hello, a spark of recognition comes forth before eyes slightly narrow on the other woman. Twitching ends abruptly, fingers curling around the mug tightly, jaw clenching for a brief moment before se forces herself to visibly relax. "Yes. Hello." Short, clipped sentences slip fort and attention briefly flickers to where her lifemate settles and a glare is fixated in her direction. Shoulders tense even more and she mutters something under her breath before grey eyes turn and settle on the other Weyrwoman. "Not the most hospitable at the moment." Dtirae's fingers curl tighter against the mug, irritation ebbing back and forth, unable to be restrained.

At the clipped words, the Weyrwoman's booted foot, lifted to make the next step forward, shifts back to the pavers beside the other and she remains standing the few paces off where she'd first paused. Open-eyed regard from sea green meets the narrow eyed squint from the younger woman. With a half-smile that seems oddly understanding despite the fact that she knows nothing at all what's bothering the younger goldrider, Thea says lightly, "Yes, I can see that. But I am and if you'd like to join me somewhere warmer, I'll buy you a drink and offer a shoulder, a listening ear an no judgment whatsoever. Otherwise, I'll leave you to stew in peace with my well-wishes to Fort and her queens." She will wait for an answer, but she won't press, says her stance which is relaxed, eyes shifting casually towards the shops.

Dtirae frowns at the offer, just slightly but she doesn't exactly take off running. That's a plus, at least. "It ain't nothin' yer needin' ta concern yourself over. I figure as soon as I'm in her range," a gesture with her head towards her lifemate, "she'll drag me back. She ain't doin' too well with havin' hwer Weyr bein' threatened to be taken from her. I ain't sure that her rider'll let that happen, though. She's a little more sane than that… And, I ain't seein' the issue with it…" She leaves it at that, shifting to move towards the stalls, grey eyes scanning the area warily.

Thea's easy smile fades, both gloved hands leave her pockets to lift palm out in a conciliatory gesture and she takes a step back, increasing the distance already between them as a cool reserve ekes the warmth out of her pale eyes. "Hey look, I'm not here to interfere in whatever is eating you. Have a good-" The words that come pouring forth from Dtirae propmt a perplexed knitting of dark brows even while she's turning to leave, "Who-what? Whose Weyr and whose too sane to let what happen?" She's SOOOOOO not following. Her eyes follow the track towards where dragons lounge, crouch… pace, whathaveyou to rest upon the obviously irate form of Zuvaleyuth briefly then return to the goldrider in front of her. It's then that she notes the Senior's knot fluttering on the younger woman's shoulder. Silence reigns as some things click into place, the of dawning understanding erasing her confusion, at least partially. "I hadn't heard about a change in Fort's leadership, though that's my fault - I told them not to bother us while we were on vacation. But I am remiss. Forgive my failure in congratulating you sooner, Senior Weyrwoman." For all the formality in the words, they are sincere. "Neyuni is well I hope?"

Thea's confusion isn't unexpected, nope, she lingers in silence as Thea cuts herself off and listens to her ramblings. Ramblings that she does not dare or care to elaborate on more than that. She turns to consider Thea, her eyes lingering on the other Weyrwoman with a smile settled place, a tense smile, but it is something other than a scowl for once. "I'm not certain Fort is wantin' ta talk much about the change in leadership. Considering their Senior has apparently abandoned them. Neyuni is fine. Said she was takin' off due ta stress, first gold ta rise is Senior. Only, the only fertile gold other'n Zuhth is Zuvaleyuth." A shrug and the woman shoves her hands into her pockets, saying nothing more than that. Dtirae's gaze settles on her lifemate and shoulders sag. "It's only gettin' worse the longer I stay away. But, now I ain't feelin' like I can go back. 'm shamin' them all with my inability…"

Thea listens impassively, her own hands slipping back into jacket pockets while Fort's new Weyrwoman speaks. "Hmm," she says noncommittally of Fort not wanting to talk about changes, though she does seem relieved to hear that Neyuni is alright healthwise. "It happens," she says in much the same way one would say it rains; people retire, they both know that. Activity continues in the square, shoppers amble by with their bags, a few children shout laughter as they chase one another though traffic; otherwise nothing fills the silence until that shoulder sag of Dtirae's. It's not Thea's way to smirk at another's discomfiture or offer advice once rebuffed, so all she says to that observation of things getting worse by staying away is a mild, "Probably." Not judgment on her self-depreciated abilities, just simple agreement as to matters left unfaced. "I wasn't all that pleased myself to find Seryth was the first to rise after my own Senior stepped down," she says in the same neutral tone. Maybe it's not quite sympathy, which the prickly young woman doesn't seem to want anyway, but it is understanding, at least as much as one can have while putting two and two together and getting five might be.

Dtirae twitches a little at the noncommittal answers from the other woman, with shoulders slouching down a little lower. "I know. I just figured there'd be another b'fore it happened." Lips twitch into a slight frown that just barely takes any sort of grasp, brows drawing into a deep frown as she shoves her hands into her pockets and generally closes off, withdrawing into herself as grey eyes settle again on her lifemate. Brief touches of regret and remorse plays on her features before turning to settle on Thea once more. "Didja think there'd be another? What did you do?"

Quiet after the few words she has spoken, Xanadu's Weyrwoman merely nods to that acknowledgement. She, meanwhile, is taking in more than her words let on while allowing Fort's new Weyrwoman to have her space. She notes the other's shoulder slumps, withdrawal, glances to the tense-looking gold, frowns followed by flashes of regret on the younger woman's face casually through lashes that at least veil the sharp study she's giving the other, until the woman looks back to her, then glass green meets storm grey with a candid honesty. "I thought the same as you. One of the other, older, more experienced golds would rise first," she says simply with a slight roll of shoulders. Taking a breath before answering, she says, "I stepped up and learned that there is more than one way to lead and that having a voice in making Pern a better place is more than compensation for the losses the knot brought." Then with a rich chuckle, she pulls her own Senior's knot from her pocket, lets it sway in the breeze before stuffing it back in, sly humor dances in her eyes as she admits with an impish smile, "I also learned that playing hooky one in awhile will maintain my sanity. Incognito is a must; I'll put myself at your disposal should you like to try it with me sometime."

Dtirae lets grey eyes lingers n the other woman, still remaining as an open book, a trait that is not normally seen with the young woman. The emotions and thoughts openly reflect on her face, and in her eyes as she listens to what the other has to say. "But, Xanadu has other golds, right? There's only three… And One is infertile." She points out in a very soft voice before she heaves a heavy sigh. "I imagine there's a time and place ta take a break. But not right after a change in leadership. Not when things are a mess and 'm supposed ta take care of it." She pauses there and allows a smile, something a little more at ease. "I'll have ta take you up on that…" She trails off there, shoulders suddenly tensing again. "I'm goin' ta be in a lot of trouble."

"Xanadu has but two fertile now," Thea responds. A fleeting sorrow passes over her face as she tells her, "Zevida's Avaeth was injured, so when I stepped up there were but two fertile golds to rise." Briskly she continues, "Sonyxaeth hasn't been out of the shell long enough to prove whether she will lay and thus far Yumeth has not risen, so your situation is not all that uncommon." She listens attentively as the other woman speaks of messes and things to take care of, nodding in understanding, though her chuckled, "I didn't mean you should skip out right now, of course. Though are things really in that much disarray at Fort Weyr? I hadn't heard anything during Neyuni's watch. Though sometimes people exaggerate out of fear. Change of leadership can be unsettling for not only weyrfolk but your holders. It's unavoidable and to be expected." She's aiming for encouraging; maybe the new Weyrwoman faces nothing more than sorting through the usual adjustment of new paperwork and directing a staff. The sudden tension in Dtirae brings a change in the easy, relaxed manner of Xanadu's Weyrwoman. She straightens imperceptibly, her chin lifting, "In trouble? Hah! From who, exactly? You, my dear, are the boss." One hand flicks the words away. "You've the right to take a few hours to sort things out in your mind!"

"Oh." The look that crosses the woman's features is briefly sheepish for the fact that she did not know this. "Oh… Were you close? I'm sorry that, well, there wasn't much choice." She quickly shuts up, pressing lips tightly, listening to the explanation. "Oh, yes. You had a new gold. Congratulations." An awkward addition to the current situation but, there's another smile and she continues to stuff her hands deeper into her pockets. "Nah. It ain't awful. But, there's… Stuff." The mention of the holders earns a groan and she shakes her head, "They ain't likely ta be happy. I ain't that good at handlin' them, either." Tension grows a little more and she groans, "I am the boss. But the Weyrleader's goin' ta be mad. He was bitchin' me out before Zuva took ta rising!"

In the plaza, despite Ierne's late winter's chill and the bustle of foot traffic, shoppers, children running about and firelizards flitting around, two women off to one side appear to be having a serious conversation. The one sitting is Fort's brand-spanking-new Weyrwoman and a dark-haired woman some ten turns older without a knot stands nearby. "I miss her. She was like the big sister I never had growing up," Thea says simply with a twist that forms her lips into a bittersweet smile. Since they're talking after all, and this isn't quite the comfortable spot she had in mind, she shifts to where she's half-sitting, her posterior on the waist-high stone wall flanking the plaza. "There's always Stuff," she says with an eyeroll of chagrinned acceptance of the Capital S Stuff. "Just when you get something smoothed over, Bam! Something else hits the fan. You get sort of used to it." Her snort is for the holders, but she says sweetly enough, "They'll get over it. It's not their call regardless and what other choice do they have, hmmn?" As to the Weyrleader, she's a touch more sober. "Oh. Really? Well that's awkward." She coughs, adding with subtle humor, "At least you rank him now?"

Even though A'lin is originally from a more tropical hold, he's been living at Fort long enough to have adjusted to the more winter-like temperatures. What brings the brownrider to Ierne? Well, he's on a hunt for Fort's lost weyrwoman, that's what! Though it's hard to say what brought him to Ierne. Perhaps Zuvaleyuth spilled the beans, or maybe Ada is here for a different reason and happened to spot a familiar gold someplace nearby. Most people have trouble finding someone in a crowd, but Ada is tall enough to see over most people so he generally has better luck. Though his height also means that he's easy to spot in a crowd. Though there's plenty of advance warning if Dtrirae is looking to escape, as soon as A'lin spots her he starts pushing his way through the market, waving. "Dei, Dei!" Probably not the sort of greeting one in hiding is looking to get. Unfortunately A'lin doesn't recognize Thea, at least not without a knot. Otherwise he'd probably be more polite, instead of embarrassing the new weyrwoman.

"Oh…" Lips again press together and she offers a sympathetic smile. "Sisters are nice." Shoulders are drawn up for a moment, hunched up for a brief moment before she lets out another sigh. The woman shuffles her feet a little. "There's always something.. Stuff. Holders. They always have.. Stuff." A soft grunt before she shrugs about the bit with the Weyrleader. "I ended up stealing his pants." She offers before laughing. "Rankin' him won't make him listen. He's stubborn. Will have ta—" The end of the sentence cuts off as the sound of her name is called out, the woman tensing up at the sight of the man. "Ada…" A soft groan as her hands move briefly in her pockets, resisting the urge to cover her face. "Did he send you to get me?"

Here's a reason for not wearing her knot right there - the form of the advancing brownrider uninhibitedly calling Dtirae's name casually over the heads of people he's wading through. Amusement crinkles the corners of Thea's eyes as she watches the young brownrider make a v'tol line for their spot. "Uh oh, here comes the cavalry," she asides to Fort's Weyrwoman with that same subtle humor, albeit a dry one now. She's obviously assuming he's from Fort, since he knows the woman. "You'll work it out," she assures the younger woman while there's still some distance between them and the on-coming rider. Not at all minding remaining unrecognized, she stays right where she is, slouched on her wall-seat, hands casually in pockets to watch what goes down. As the man pulls up, she asides in an under-her-breath, "Boss-lady. Chin up. No hiding."

A'lin almost bowls some people over as he makes a B-line through the crowd to get to Dei. Once he's there, Ada gives Dei a big bearhug, lifting her right up off the ground. "Hello! Who is your friend? Hello friend of Dei! I'm A'lin, Njordeth's rider!" Once Dei is let go, Thea receives similar treatment. What with the hugging and such. Yes, he picks her right out of her seat, and Dtirae too, if she's sitting. "Actually I'm just supposed to go back and report your whereabouts. But I don't have to do that right away. I've never been to the market before! Are you really hiding or did you just want to pick up some new clothes? I heard they pay the senior weyrwoman more than the juniors, plus you'll want to look nice and all. Though Miki's brother might be put out if you went shopping and didn't go to him first."

Dtirae looks over to Thea for that comment, mouth opening and then closing. There's barely enough time to shift into boss-lady-like stance as she's swept up into the hug that A'lin is known for. "Hi, Ada." She doesn't get to an introduction, however, as she is released and he's already moving on to give the other woman a hug. A soft chuckle and she slightly shakes her head. At least, until he's pointing out that he's reporting to where she is. "Ada.." A soft groan and her hand covers her face, "he'll be fine without knowing I went shoppin' without him… I only bought new pants."

On the contrary, Thea puts up both hands to keep the ebullient brownrider from picking her up with a firm, "No thanks!" declining the hug he's obviously about to give her and thus remains seated on that wall. She offers him one of her gloved hands to shake though, and a smile that's friendly enough to hopefully take any rejection out of her refusal for the hug. "Well-met A'lin," she says casually without giving any name in there while her dancing expression shifts back to Dtirae, "He's right about the perks, you know. Have you seen your new office yet? I'll bet it cushier than the one you shared with the other juniors. And the new digs the senior gets are usually the best the Weyr has."

In the plaza, despite Ierne's late winter's chill and the bustle of foot traffic, shoppers, children running about and firelizards flitting around, two women off to one side appear to be having a serious conversation. The one sitting is Fort's brand-spanking-new Weyrwoman and a dark-haired woman some ten turns older without a knot on half-stands/half-sits on a low stone wall nearby.

If Dtirae wants to play boss-lady with A'lin she'd better do it before he takes off his shirt. Otherwise all bets were off. When Thea rejects his hug he gives her a strange look, then looks pouty about it. But soon enough he's distracted responding to Dei. "Well, it's just that you've been gone for a long time. Th'ero is worried I think that you might not come back. And the weyr needs you. And here I thought you might be out in the woods hunting. I guess maybe I don't know you as well as I thought, anymore." A'lin still isn't sure what to make of Dei's friend. "I haven't seen them, but I bet they're nice. They ought to be, or you should have some people come in and fix them up for you." He frowns then. "What happened between you and the weyrleader? He said P'on was angry at him, too."

The game is up it seems and what peace there was in the Ierne Market is about to be rudely interrupted. Once Njordeth spills Zuvaleyuth's location to Velokraeth, it's not long before things progress and the pale bronze is spotted taking flight from Fort Weyr, accompanied by Wiyaneth. Moments later they're in the air above the Weyrhold and Velokraeth makes a steep dive for the nearest spot to land but at some distance from the others, landing as gracefully as his stunted limbs and misshapen body will allow. Answers may be forth coming for A'lin and the rest, as Th'ero dismounts. Dressed in his heavier riding gear, all dyed somber hues of black, the Fortian Weyrleader's mood looks just as dark as he glances about the unfamiliar Marketplace. It won't take long for him to spy who he seeks, liking honing in on the brownrider first and Dtirae next. Thea is given a long, curious look but introductions will have to come later. Now he's on the move, weaving slowly through the crowds and it becomes apparent soon enough that he's lingering back. He casts a look over his shoulder, discrete but there. A signal? Maybe. Who knows?

The pale ivory form of Zuvaleyuth's great granddam appears in formation with Velokraeth, flying on the bronze's right wingtip. She pulls away from him when he makes his steep dive, however, the older and injured queen circling and making a typical slow descent. Landing with barely a backwing needed, she rumbles and folds her wings, nosing her right one until it's settled comfortably. Then she crouches, to let Elara dismount. The goldrider is dressed in her purple riding pants, that flare out into what looks like a skirt when she's on the ground. Fabulous invention. A simple cream top and her violet riding jacket complete the ensemble. As well as her old Fort Senior's knot pinned to her shoulder. She follows Th'ero through the crowd until he looks behind him, and it's then that the older woman walks past him and forward, smiling as she approaches the group. "Hello," she says politely, eyes moving from one person to the next, and finally settling on Dtirae.

Pouty males do not seem to worry Thea in the slightest; nor does the strange look he's given her. She's not into hugging people she's just met and doesn't even know - that's made crystal clear from her smiling, but firm refusal. It's nothing personal, though if he whips off his shirt in the crowded square in the middle of winter, he might be the one getting strange looks from her. She retrieves her extended hand to thrust it back into her jacket pocket, remaining unruffled and unconcerned. Fort's issues are none of her business, so she remains silent after the barrage of questions A'lin directs towards the young Weyrwoman. The only thing she interjects into the conversation is a low-voiced suggestion, "Dtirae you're allowed to say you'd rather discuss this in private rather than where all of Ierne can overhear." She'd recognize Fort's Weyrleader from her Weyrharper's sketches if she saw him, but thanks to the crowd and her seated position, she doesn't glimpse him yet. Likewise with Elara and when she walks up, she's met with a grave nod and brief smile as the Fort Junior's focus is, unsurprisingly, going to be on Dtirae.

"Perks?" Dtriae frowns a bit and then shakes her head, "Not sayin'… Well, the perks ain't what matters. It shouldn't." A look is pinned to A'lin, "I needed time, Ada. I wouldn't /not/ come back. That's /stupid/." The former hunter growls softly and then frowns. "Yes. I was goin' ta go huntin' wearing the Weyrleader's pants. Like I can move around in 'em or somethin'." Irritation creeps forth before she snorts. "P'on was pushin' for somethin' more permanent. Th'ero gave me some feline hides and he got jealous. Nothin' important." It's unfortunate she doesn't exactly hear Thea's suggestion for privacy as her jaw is working silently, visibly tense as her gaze is focusing on the Weyrleader. Her form is rigid, barely restrained, just like the moment before she fled the Weyr entirely. Again, everything suddenly breaks once again, the tether that held the woman in place sends her forward. No hesitation as she makes her way to Th'ero. There's not much care that others can see them, but there is a brief movement of pulling the knot off her shoulder and shoving it into her pocket. And she has enough sense not to clench her fist entirely as she slams it right into the Weyrleader's face. "You. Shardin'. Ass. Assumin' I'd /abandon/ MY Weyr." She straightens, then, shaking out her fist before looking to Elara and offering a pleasant smile. "Ma'am. Sorry 'bout leavin' with no warning. I needed some time."

What was with Th'ero's good leathers? Has someone died? At any rate it can't be hard to spot A'lin's blonde head sticking out of the sea of people at the marketplace. So unless he's lost track of the weyrwoman, that's where she must be. Ada didn't mean to rat Dei out so quickly, but apparently his dragon had other plans for him. And them. And now the cavalry was really here. Thea just doesn't know A'lin. He's into hugging EVERYONE. People he doesn't know included. And she wouldn't be the first person or the last to give him strange looks, though it seems he's keeping his shirt on, at least for now. Ada blinks and nods to the weyrwoman. "Hey… maybe that is the latest in fashion. I didn't think you were not going to come back, but Th'ero asked me to look for you. I couldn't rightly tell him no…" At the arrival of Elara and Th'ero A'lin stands back and gives each a nod. Well, that is until Dei walks up to Th'ero and gives him a right hook. He just stands there, looking between not really sure what to do. "D-dei! What's gotten into you!?"

As Th'ero weaves his way closer, he's careful to keep Elara in front of him as the weyrwoman walks past his side. He steps clear then of the crowds while she approaches and holds himself there, standing straight with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His features are almost contorted to a scowl, but seeing as the Fortian Weyrleader doesn't speak, it's hard to gauge his true mood. Thea he finally recognizes now that he's closed the distance, likely having had similar sketches to work with. Somewhere inside his mind, he's regretting that his first meeting outside of duty with the Xanadu Weyrwoman would be now, but such is fate. Th'ero isn't stupid and the moment Dtirae begins to make a straight dash towards him and the Weyrleader is immediately on edge and tensing. He's too slow in uncrossing his arms, his mind racing to believe whether or not she'd be foolish to try. So her fist connects before the bronzerider can defend himself and he staggers back, clutching at his jaw. Th'ero's curses are muffled and drowned out by Velokraeth's roar of protest that has the activity about the Market shifting as heads turn and people stop to find the source. So much for privacy and the look Dtirae receives from him is bordering on pure anger and disbelief and shocked into a lack of response.

As Dtirae rushes at Th'ero, Elara's reaction is similar to his. She couldn't /possibly/ be wanting to hit the Weyrleader. And yet, she does, and Wiyaneth's roar of fury echoes Velokraeth's. Faster than the plump woman seems capable of moving, Elara has stepped between Th'ero and Dtirae, facing the younger goldrider/Senior/Whatever she is right now. "Dtirae," she says, her usually sweet, motherly expression dropping into something much more defined and hard. "We are taking this scene out of the public eye. Right now. Turn around and march," she says firmly to Dtirae, pointing towards the buildings. "First left is a room we can use." She doesn't dissuade anyone else from joining them, ignoring them completely.

Thea may not know A'lin, but then he doesn't know her either - she doesn't hug the men she knows! Unless it's her weyrmate or she's under the influence of a flight; just ask her, she'll explain it slowly. "Maybe not," she answers Dtirae smoothly, "But they are yours nevertheless. You get the headaches, you might as well enjoy the perks. Just saying." She shrugs, falling silent as the younger woman speaks to the brownrider but her face is pained as the woman foregoes discretion and answers him anyway. It's when the young woman launches herself at Th'ero, even though surprised, her reflex is to snap out of her nonchalance and make a grab for the woman's arm to stop her. It's a grab that misses, however. She winces as the man takes it in the face, shutting her eyes for a moment while muttering, "Wonderful!" Not that she can exactly take sides or anything, but the bystanders are gawking now as the square has gone totally silent and tongues will surely be wagging. She sighs and can't help but gives the Fort Weyrleader a very sympathetic look, otherwise will leave it to he and Elara, who seems to be managing quite nicely, to handle the situation.

A'lin is forgotten, an afterthought of her actions. Thea is there, in the things that are not entirely as important as actions begin to dawn on her. Impulse of fists first before talking, something that was meant to be left behind in youth has her dawning on her actions. However, she doesn't look any less proud of herself, even as Th'ero's expression reads a complexity of emotions and even as Elara's hardened tone settles in on her and draws her back from the brink of wherever she was lingering. The bugle of dragons, the roar of her own lifemate has Dtirae settling and sobering completely before she turns and strides to the indicated room. There is no glance back, but, her expression reads one of a child who knows they've done something they likely shouldn't have.

A'lin doesn't really know what to do. Thankfully Th'ero doesn't look like he's going to punch Dei back, so he can count his blessings there. But he looks ready to step between the two if something else crazy should happen. He can shovel them off the open street though. Which he does, by opening up his arms and more or less herding everyone into the room that Elara has motioned too. It's probably some storeroom or something, stacked floor to ceiling with crates. "No more of that. What's happened between you two?" Ada just stands there with his arms folded, looking big and muscley and disappointed.

Th'ero gives his head a slight shake, his jaw working slightly to test for damage and the bronzerider promptly winces and curses a blue streak that'd make a Seacrafter proud. He'll probably have some bruising in the end, but doesn't seem too worse for wear physically. Mentally however, his mood is in some dark pit and his anger surges uncontrolled. He may have retaliated verbally against Dtirae then but Elara is stepping in and saving everyone from that showdown. But it doesn't stop the Weyrleader from throwing her such a daggered and narrowed glare. Once she and the older Weyrwoman disappear, it's only he, A'lin and Thea who remain. He notes the Xanadu's Weyrwoman's sympathetic look and there's a subtle nod given as he straightens himself and tries to dispel his temper enough to be semi-coherent at least. "I apologize that you had to witness that." Th'ero murmurs in a low and drawling tone towards Thea, anger still simmering though he's doing his best to pull it back. And he's doing his best to ignore everyone who's /staring/ at them. Then A'lin is trying to herd him along to the room Elara ordered Dtirae too and he's distracted from further conversaion with the Xanadu Weyrwoman. "Not here." The bronzerider growls as he protests being herded along with the others, holding his ground and trying to keep the brownrider with him instead. "I need to get away from this." He mutters, gesturing vaguely towards the crowds but he could be implying the young goldrider too. "Ierne must have a quiet tavern or something?" It's a hint and a request both from the Weyrleader. He's not going back to Fort quite yet, but neither is he just going to stand there in the open.

Elara could've sworn that this door lead to a conference room. Maybe they switched things around as she frowns at the crates. Huh. Weird. Glancing behind her to see who stays outside, she then closes the door so that only she and Dtirae are inside the little room. Turning back to face the younger goldrider, Elara's arms cross over her chest and she frowns. "Explain yourself," she says, her voice flat and controlled.

Since her lifemate isn't all that upset, Seryth remains composed while other dragons roar, the Xanadu queen crouched off to one side, watchful but calm. The Xanadu Senior remains behind, ducking under those arms attempting to sweep her along with the rest. Whereas offering quiet support in a relatively private conversation friend to friend was her place, being in on this meeting is not. This is Fort's business, not hers. To Th'ero's apology, she refrains from making any sort of comment to be overheard by the people in the square and likewise keeps her expression neutral as to how she feels about the sudden appearance of the Fort contingent to confront an obviously touchy young goldrider in public though she accepts his words with a grave inclination of her head. She may have her opinions but she's not airing them save to wish them all well in working through the transition, which she does audibly with a sincere, "Take care, Dtirae, Elara. Xanadu is at your disposal if ever you need anything." Her glance flickers to the Weyrleader then, "I think you might like The Firepit." Her eyes flick to his jaw and she notes crisply, "Lets get you some ice for that also. Right this way-" And if they are willing she'll show them the way there, remain to make proper introductions over something to soothe and hopefully relax them all.

Once that door closes, Dtirae tenses up a little more, shoulders completely tense and she turns. The only voice that is speaking is Elara's, and she completely unhinges. The attempt at being strong, the attempt to hold everything in, for once cannot hold all the emotions that she normally holds in. It starts as a small sound, and then sobbing. Completely, and utterly dissolved of her wall and protections. "I don't know. I don't know. She handed me the knot, then he was yelling at me. Then Zuvaleyuth… And then he's throwing the rank at me and I /ran/. I just needed… I needed time…"

A'lin is barred from the room apparently from the two goldriders. He gives a sigh. Well, there isn't much else for the brownrider to do, so he gives a nod to Th'ero. "A drink. That would be good, yes. They'll have ice there for your jaw, as well." Ada will tag along wherever they go. Hopefully a drink and some chatting will help relieve some of the bronzer's stresses, since he can't be around to help Dei cope with hers.

Th'ero looks almost relieved when A'lin agrees and the brownrider decides to join them, though that will only mean he'll have some questions to answer that he may not be ready to share. Maybe after a drink or two (or three), he may loosen up enough to let the whole story unravel. "The Firepit it is then," he tells him, before his gaze turns back to Thea and he nods briskly again, trying not to flinch when the movement sends a fresh sting of pain. Then he's following the Xanadu Weyrwoman without protest, all too happy to be gone from the public's eye for now. Even though the damage is well and thoroughly done. He'll get the ice and likely get well and properly buzzed (but not drunk) enough to relax. It's hard to say where the discussion will go, perhaps he'll give his variation of the events or maybe they'll just stick to polite introductions and subtle casual conversation until they all have to respectfully part ways.

Elara stares at Dtirae for a moment and then sighs, walking over to sit on a crate and motioning for Dtirae to find a seat of her own. "Talk it out," she says, and now her voice is more gentle - more like her usual tones.

Dtirae wibbles, so unlike herself as she takes a seat. The goldrider covers her face, trying to compose herself. "I didn't want to have the knot. I thought she was joking, that she'd just have Zuhth rise again after." As if the woman can control that, "and she'd have a good laugh. Cause, she was stressed out. But then Th'ero's came in, started naggin' at me, sayin' it ain't a joke, starts yellin' at me." She retells the story again, "Zuva took off then and I was jokin' a bit and he flings the rank at me, starts bitchin', yellin'…" A deep breath is taken, shivering. "I was scared of it.. He ain't helpin'. I just… Wanted… Ta take a little bit of time, ta think. Just a little…"

Elara frowns slightly. "Why was he yelling?" she asks, the question presented gently and quietly.

Dtirae shakes her head, "I wasn't takin' the flight seriously. What're you supposed ta do after a flight? They don't cover that." Her hands are thrown up into the air before pressing to her eyes again. "May have called his manbits somethin'."

Elara frowns, but it's pretty clear she's struggling to hold back a laugh. "Well. You don't do /that/," she says with a wince. "You do whatever is comfortable. Some people like to linger and cuddle, others want to go back to their regular mates. Sometimes there's business to discuss. Why weren't you taking it seriously?"

Dtirae snorts softly, "it ain't like I called it somethin' /small/." She offers, giving the other woman a look. "It's comfortable for me ta joke about it. He ain't a cuddler. He kinda wanted ta shove me away. Got up, was dressin', was making small talk and he threw the fact that 'm Senior now at me because I made him mad…" She trails off, takes another breath and shrugs. "Was tryin' ta make it easier on myself. Just a bit b'fore I really had ta think 'bout new change…"

Oh. TMI. So MUCH TMI. That's her daughter's lover Dtirae is talking about, and Elara clears her throat and looks away for a moment. Ugh. "Do you want this?" Elara says, reaching up to touch the Senior's knot that she currently wears on her own shoulder to show what she means. Far from new, the knot has been lovingly tended to, threads replaced as they faded or broke away, so the knot has a well-loved but also well used look to it.

There's no filter on the woman's mouth half the time, clearly. As she's obviously forgotten the fact that Th'ero is with the woman's daughter. The question takes her by surprise, then, for once… She considers the question. Silence lingers, fingers lacing together for a moment as she considers. A quiet conversation between herself and her lifemate before looking to Elara again. "I want to provide the best for the Weyr. I'm afraid I won't be good enough."

Elara nods her head slowly. "A wise answer," the older goldrider says. "Especially because right now, frankly, you're not." Blunt? Harsh? You betcha. But she /did/ just sucker punch her own Weyrleader in the middle of a public courtyard. Elara's not exactly enamored with Dtirae right now, gentle though she might be.

Dtirae gives her a rather sheepish look, ducking her head and then even lower. "Yeah. I know. I panicked, didn't rationalize anything and acted on instinct rather than thinkin' it all out… I'm not bein' a good Weyrwoman. But, I want ta be. I mean, I love Fort. Never expected ta be a Weyrwoman, ever. And the defenses I put up ta make myself who I am now, ain't goin' ta cut it for a Weyrwoman." Fingers lace together, clenching tightly. "Made obvious by how 'm reactin' ta it all…"

Elara nods. "I had Senior thrust upon me when I was twenty, too. So I do understand. But you simply can't act that way and be a good leader. I still can not /believe/ you punched Th'ero. Or ran away and refused to come back." She watches the younger woman closely as she says these things.

Dtirae grumbles, "he deserved it." But, there is regret lingering in that tone of hers, as shoulders tense and the rest of her body follows. "I know… I knew. I shouldn't have acted that way. I… Wasn't /not/ goin' ta come back. I could have left a message… Could've asked you ta help for a bit before takin' off…"

Elara shakes her head firmly, "No one - especially not your Weyrleader - ever deserves to be punched. ESPECIALLY not in a public place, and ESPECIALLY not one that's not in Fort. Yes, you could have left a message. Could have said something other than locking yourself away and refusing to answer Wiyaneth's summons. You know she declared herself Senior when you refused to come home?" She reaches up to touch her knot. "But after seeing your behavior I can't say that I blame her."

"I'll apologize. Ain't sure it'll fix anythin'…" A heavy sigh and her hands cover her face, "I messed up." The comment about being Senior earns a soft chuckle, "thought Zuva was exaggeratin'. She was mad… Shells. I'm sorry." The goldrider just keeps her hands covering her eyes. "I messed up so bad…"

Elara nods, "You have," she says, and while it's not said unkindly, nor does she sugar coat it. "I said that I would give you back this knot," figuratively speaking, since this knot is /hers/, "when you returned to Fort. But I'm not comfortable doing that, when you so clearly are not ready for this."

Dtirae gives Elara a small look, chewing her bottom lip a bit before looking away. "Don't blame you for that, really. I acted like a child. And honestly, it scares me." A nod to the knot, before she turning to stare at the door. "I think I'd need help."

Elara nods. "I am going to speak with Th'ero about this, but what I think is that I keep this knot for a while. Until you have shown both him and myself that you can be a good, effective, calm Senior for Fort. Because right now you can not handle this. And it wouldn't be healthy for the weyr and it wouldn't be healthy for you. So just relax, the weight's been lifted for a while. I'll be Acting Senior for now."

Dtirae nods slowly, and it is as if the weight of the world is suddenly gone, relaxation taking place now. Though, there's a brief tense of her shoulders and grey eyes again flicker towards the door. "Maybe somethin' like a compromise? Zuvaleyuth is bein' stubborn." A soft cough, "my fault…" She rolls her shoulders and glances away. "Maybe workin' with me? After a few days. I think 'm still needin' ta.. Uhm.. Wind down. And… Th'ero probably needs a break from me until he's willin' ta hear my apology…"

Elara nods, "Of course I'll work with you," she says, as if /that/ should've been obvious. "Otherwise you'd never be ready. I don't want this knot forever," she says with a small smile. "Despite what the gossip mills might say, I'm sure." She shrugs, not really concerned.

Dtirae nods, taking another relieved breath. "Thanks." There's a soft laugh, "I don't think you want the knot forever. S'why I thought Zuvaleyuth was just kiddin' 'bout you takin' over. She made it sound permanent." Her hands fold on her lap, clenching tightly. "I'm sorry, Elara."

Elara snorts softly, "It can't be permanent. Wiyaneth hasn't flown in turns." If there's bitterness there, Elara keeps it well hidden. She watches Dtirae for a long moment and then nods, rising to her feet. "I appreciate the apology, thank you," she says, offering Dtirae a hand up.

Dtirae gives Elara a long look, "I'm sorry." Follows again, and then she takes the offered hand. "It won't happen again. I promise… I'll do my best for Fort."

Elara helps the girl to her feet and then lets her hand go, looking at her for another long moment. Then she smiles a faint, sad smile. "I certainly hope so."

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.