Fort Weyr - Northeast Bowl
The northern end of the bowl can be an intimidating area, being that Fort is the largest weyr. The far north wall contains the gigantic opening to the hatching caverns, and to the west of that can be seen the sprawling ledges and carved stair cases that mark the way to the administration complex and the training grounds were candidates and weyrlings can often be found. The west cliff wall towers up, dotted here and there by darker openings that mark individual weyrs before it tapers to a point at Tooth Crag.

In the rising heat of the summer's morning, Kayeth is resting in the bowl, watching the weyr around her. The tension in the council chambers has effected her however, and the fiery queen's tail is twitching. Twitch, back and forth against the dusty ground. Jajen's outburst and cutting remark to Dtirae, however, has Kayeth lifting to her feet and mantling her wings with a low hiss of displeasure, her thoughts reaching for Iaverulth, mental winds hot. « Your rider needs to stand down. »

Rhenesath is catching some sun high up on the Weyr's rim, her brown-gold hide gleaming softly under Rukbat's touch. Then there's a commotion, and the typically warm gold raises her head, peering down into the bowl to Kayeth. Her thoughts take on a more steely tang, forge's flames rising and the clang of the hammer against anvil a very final, decisive sound. There's an echo of Kayeth's words from behind a shield raised to protect her own - she's unhappy, and the winds whistling over sparse mental mountainsides to fan her flames is keenly representative of that.

Iaverulth hadn't been resting or enjoying the sun's heat on her ledge. Stretched out on her side, the pale gold had been restless all morning and as irritable as her rider. Even the tension within the council chambers is feeding to her and so are Jajen's emotions. Kayeth's heat is met with an icy blast and cold, cold darkness. « No. » It's a single word but spoken with a blow of defiance that strikes back and trickles outwards to any others within range. In the next beat, Iaverulth is on her feet with her wings spread and head turned towards Kayeth, her posture hardly submissive. « We won't. Not anymore! » To those near or in the bowl, it's obvious Something Not Good is about to go down. Worse yet when Iaverulth tries to leap up to a higher ledge, ABOVE Kayeth in a reckless display of rebelliousness, spurred by her rider's notions.

Zuvaleyuth is settled in the bowl while the meeting happens, waiting on her rider before she, too begins her day. When Kayeth stirs, Zuvaleyuth does the same. She is not, however, rising from her position as if restrained by an unseen force. Dtirae's will against her own, it seems. Eyes whirl angry shades of red, form tense as her wings ruffle. « How dare her lips spill black, twisted, slander? Accuse mine and myself of abandonment, with intentions never to return? How dare she? » The pale gold's wings rustle again, anxious, shifting. And then the Iaverulth launches, and Zuvaleyuth roars at her wayward daughter but she does not launch, held in place still. « You are a shame, disgrace, to allow such behavior from yours. How could thee be borne in these walls and show so little regard? »

Close to, but not on her own ledge, Kouzevelth is near enough to the bowl that she can see its goings on, though she is gravid enough at this point that she hasn't taken to sticking as near to Inri during her work. She is also gravid enough that what bothers her, normally something to wash off and move on unless it is personal, is bothering her greatly. While Zuvaleyuth is her dam and Iaverulth her sister, Kayeth is a chosen relation — Kayeth is her Senior and her friend, a dragon she chooses to keep company with, and that wrestles words from the stormy queen. « You do not. Will not. Defy Kayeth. Or you defy us all. »

Niumdreoth has settled himself upon a ledge that allows him to look down over the bowl, and thus he has a front row seat to what is going on it would seem. The large brown slowly stretches, a yawn escaping him, talons gripping at the edge while his head lifts and a deep rumble escapes him. It is a soft echoing like noise as his gaze swirl and he looks to the ones below looking confused to say the least. « What has happened? » Is questioned while his gaze drifts towards Iaverulth at the movement she takes. Well this just got interesting. His gaze settles upon Zuvaleyuth at the words that are caught and a soft snort escapes him. « That is an absurd thought. None of it true. » With the other golds getting in on the conversation at hand the brown slips quiet, a low rumble escaping him once more while his tail slowly twitches at his side.

It's a little hard to miss what's going on with the queens out in the Bowl - tension, and Tovihasuth has to come see what's going on, even if his rider is nowhere near what might be going on elsewhere at the moment. The young bronze is quick to abandon his perch on the Rim as a gold he doesn't recognize ventures into defiance against those of his home - especially so when it unsettles Kouzevelth. It's near her that he settles, eyes whirling vermillion as he strikes a watchful, ready stance alongside the junior queen and in solidarity with the others. « Who is that? » he demands, tail curling and uncurling in slow undulation as his mind stretches a protective fortress round about all those nearby, bolstering. « What does she think she's doing? » Something not good; he knows that much.

Kayeth's roar echoes Zuvaleyuth's, and the young queen surges upwards after Iaverulth towards that ledge. « Down, » Kayeth orders, landing heavily on the other side of the ledge, wings spread, neck high, and growling. Stones clatter to the ground with the weight of both queens so restless, as she advances slowly on the other gold, a prowling grace of fury approaching. Her thoughts, as well, push out with a Senior's force against the wayward Junior, pushing to make her return to the bowl. From her usual spot on the Star Stones, old Wiyaneth also roars, dam to them all, adding her weight to Kayeth's in trying to make Iaverulth obey.

When Iaverulth rises, Rhenesath screeches down at her, spreading her wings and looking as if she's ready to leap from her lofty perch - though her tensed muscles remain coiled tight enough to launch her at the drop of a hat. Although she mightn't have words to share, her thoughts roil uneasily, flames rippling and quivering through her mind as she listens, watches her dam against the rebel.

Zuvaleyuth remains on the ground, carefully in place, restrained as Kayeth surges to deal with the rebellious gold. It is not her place, but she does not stay silent. « You shame me, child of my brood, borne upon these Sands. Ancient walls home you, you whom soil your name, soil your legacy. Bring shame to those of our line. Shame Fort's eldest Wiyaneth, from whom you share your lineage. » The glacier of her mind rises, looming, the cold of the ice almost burning as she allows herself to press into the link of their minds. « You, child of this Weyr, are to listen to your Senior, regardless of whom they are or whence they have came. That is how it works, and has worked as such since before you, or I, or any of us here have been shelled. » She knows her place, knows her position in life. Has always known, and obliged. It is her duty. She, however, remains poised to launch after the young rebel if needed.

From twitching tails, begets lashing ones: Kouzevelth's irritation with Iaverulth is in full display as Kayeth is forced to move to defend her leadership. That thundercrack in her mind is unfiltered, touching upon every dragon in Fort's region. The long tail whips firmly enough it might be wise to steer clear of her if you are not Tovihasuth, whose presence and location she is firmly enough aware of that the young bronze isn't stricken. « She is, » she informs her present mate, « insolent. » That word comes with the strength of a thousand earthquakes, a million lightning strikes. Her comfort is more private, a gentle rain for Kayeth's mind alone: « We have you. We support you. Do what you must. »

Iaverulth doesn't heed Rhenesath or Zuvaleyuth and her dam's comments only seem to spur her onwards. « Yours is no better! » she snarls back in starless blackness, voice chill and sharp. « Concern yourself with your own shame and she is no better for threatening harm to mine! » Basically: Stuff it. Kouzevelth's warning is met with something akin to mocking laughter but by then her foolishness has brought Kayeth's fury upon her and Iaverulth's attention is devoted to trying to shake off the senior queen's influence. « No, I will not! » Her talons scrape and dig into the stone, trying to hold fast even as her body leans away from Kayeth purely on instinct alone. Her eyes whirl red and yellow, lips curling to show a flash of teeth in threat and warning to the other gold's approach. At the last second, just when it seems the two queens will be too close, FAR too close, Iaverulth pushes off the ledge with a furious hiss, appearing to behave at last. Yet on her downwards swoop to the bowl, she arcs gracefully in an obvious flaunting showoff as her silver-bell warbling call echoes across the bowls and towards Tovihasuth and Niumdreoth. « Come to me! » she sings sweetly as she begins to weave a webbed song, calling the now confused bronzes and browns forwards RIGHT in front of Kayeth.

Tovihasuth, fortunately, isn't the sort to really get distracted by a pretty face. Or pretty songs. Or pretty anything else… Shaking his head, he snorts, growling as he watches Iaverulth and Kayeth face off. « Too insolent, » he notes, breezes whipping crisp and energetic from his mind to those of the other queens - the behaving ones - and the other bronzes and browns with him. Resist the siren call! His bugle at the insubordinate junior is sharply defiant as she passes overhead, and he watches her almost glaring, hovering closer to Kouzevelth. « No, » he answers, his voice suddenly ringing with the power of something ancient, layer upon layer of gathered power grown over centuries, refined with wisdom - condensed into one lean, young form not even five Turns in age. « You will come to ground, or you will have us all against you! » He knows where his loyalty lies! And he also knows he can only say so much; he can defy a queen back, but he can't sway her as easily. This is Kayeth's show - and it's to her that his bolstering is most pointed.

Dremkoth is one of the confused and angry bronzes and though he hears the siren's call, he aligns himself with Kayeth and the other Fortian queens, roaring displeasure with Iaverulth.

Niumdreoth is ever watchful from the ledge he is using at the moment, his gaze drifting across the golds and he tilts his head with a soft snort escaping him. He has never muddled in the affairs of such things, never voiced his thoughts on the matter unless he was there. His gaze follows Iaverulth and his head lifts as he sweeps over the bowl and then is calling out to the males. His tail flicks, an angrey lash, a twitch of a claw across the rock that scrapes and digs while he hefts his large frame upwards and is standing with a shake of his wings at his side. « I will not.. » Don't expect him to change his mind either. « You defy the Seinor, you defy the others. There are rules and ranks you must follow as do the rest of us. You are not one neither I nor others would wish to follow. » His voice is calm, but his mindscene is full of coldness, thick snow falls across the scene, the stars are not out, there are no trees it is just an open field of ice and snow. « Fort is my home, and I follow the others. Show your respect and stop acting like a hatchling! » This sent with a deep roar escaping his maw, lips curling in a canineish move. It is for certain that he will not defy Kayeth nor the other golds, his rider would have his hide for one, and two as he said this is his home and he will not wrong it. The other males that may be near him are given a glare of a stare as he stands tall on that ledge.

Kayeth, briefly placated when it appeared Iaverulth was going to return to the bowl, then /roars/ in fury when the rebellious young queen DARES to try and steal away HER bronzes. No flight lust runs through either of them and yet this Senior has been pushed too far. Too many queens in her weyr, and now this? No. NO. With a flick of wide wings the fiery queen surges off that ledge, the force of her take-off sending part of the stone crumbling to the ground below as she soars upwards after Iaverulth, her mind lashing winds as she reaches out to the other dragons of the weyr. « CHOOSE. » Not just the bronzes and browns, either. Every dragon must make a choice, here and now. And those who support Kayeth will help add the mental push she needs to rein in this insolent queen. Flying upwards, Kayeth seeks to get above Iaverulth, teeth snapping, tail lashing, to FORCE her to land.

Kainaesyth is just a little late to this party. He settles to the gound, his desert not the gentle winds of spring, but the deeper darker monsoons of the deep desert. While the other bronzes align themselves to one another, Kainaesyth is the firm neutrality to be found in the middle. « The issues is of freedom, of choice. Will she choose to follow the establishment, or will she seek her own way? Should one be kept where ties mean so little? Perhaps there is a portion of her story which makes such come to light? »

Zuvaleyuth roars, again, this time in echo of her support. She launches into the air, but not higher than the Senior. She shows her support, a rallying cry for the other gold. « I have chosen Kayeth, rightfully chosen in the methods that have decided this role for ages, since the beginning of Fort. Since before our time. There is only one choice. » She addresses the Weyr, loudly, demanding their voices to join theirs. « Step down, insolent one. I have disowned thee, you are no longer considered of mine. I will tell you now, insolent one, that I bear no shame. Mine does as she should. As needed. Which yours is clearly incapable of doing. »

It should be an easy choice, should it not? What with every other gold supporting Kayeth unreservedly; Kouzevelth is not even holding back on that mental influence she exudes, making sure that every dragon in her reach can find the right choice. There is no space in life for defiance like this. Kayeth rules the Weyr, Kayeth has not chosen to step down, Iaverulth an undesired, foolish usurper. One cannot simply choose to steal a Weyr. « She may go make her own home, if she so desires, » a muttered undertone for Kainaesyth's points. Iaverulth is less the problem than her lifemate, though this issue isn't palpable currently to the dragons. « Steal some other Weyr. Not this one. She is not wanted. » She's hormonal and prickly, and between challenging Kayeth and trying to tempt away Tovihasuth in such a short time, Iaverulth is Kouzevelth's entire shit list. The full force of her mind is pulled from the rest of the Weyr and settled behind Kayeth, not an unneeded shield but a strong reserve at her back. Added strength, added fortitude. That energy is Kayeth's, as Kouzevelth lays down her head and puts mind before body.

Choose? Rhenesath bellows at the command, dropping from her perch to the bowl below Kayeth. Her mind is heavy in support of her dam, the full weight of her mountains and forge backing the Senior's command - her choice is clear, and she sidles close to Kainaesyth, wings spread, one even reaching over the bronze. « A roost of her own, send her away. » The hollow echo of her tone reverberates with the strike of hammer on anvil. « She will not have ours. » Not the Weyr or the dragons within it.

By now the Weyr is slowly slipping into confusion and the air is rife with the echoing calls and bugles of dragons and not just bronzes and browns but from blues and greens too. Many are on their ledges, others flying in from the other bowls to hunker down, eyes whirling rapidly in anxious shades of yellow flecked with red. The tide, so far, seems heavily in favour of Kayeth, shown with the dragons who join the other golds. And where dragons gather, so do several riders and they make an effective barrier to keep any weyrfolk from getting too close. Iaverulth's silvery calls become shrieks of rage when Kayeth bares down on her but she does not go quietly. Down she goes, skidding to a stop as she twists, tail swinging out and wings still flared as she rears up to snap at the air defensively as Kayeth passes. Sensing that she is not gaining favour further infuriates the pale gold and she lowers herself down, wings mantled and bristling as she roars to the younger queens, challenging them too and earning a backlash of protests from the other dragons gathered there. « I will NOT go! Fort is MINE as much as any other! » Iaverulth shrieks out loud now, defiant, pushing back against Kayeth (and failing) for all she's worth, for as long as she can manage. Her time is ticking down and perhaps part of her knows she is losing the battle and only one option is going to be left to her in the end.

Kainaesyth is not one to be claimed, to be contained. His breezes whirl, the strength of the storm growing as his mind darkens and lighting flashes. He pulls away from Rhenesath, away from being seen as one only one side of this conflict. He is the tree that one meets under to make peace, not the battlefield to be fought upon. He is not challenging the authority of the golds, for they have the right of it, but the repression of will strikes a chord within the bronze.

Tovihasuth flares his wings, bright bronze flashing fire to match the distinctive, simple streaking pattern limning his forehead and neck, down over his limbs - all highlighting the protective, defiant set of his body as he faces Iaverulth from his place beside Kouzevelth, snarling low in his chest. « My choice is made, » he states evenly, the many layers of his angered tone deepening somewhat. « And so is yours. It doesn't have to be this way… » And yet he knows that the course is something more or less unalterable now.

Niumdreoth shifts now, the large brown goes downwards with a flick of his wings and once landing he is slowly prowling towards where Kainaesyth was and soon settles there with a slow twitch of his tail. The words of others are caught and there is a slow shake of his head. He does not fully agree with the thought of sending Iaverulth away.. That is luckly not up to him to decide at least. His gaze turns to follow Kainaesyth before his attention is back towards the golds and he shifts into the watching mode. His thoughts are with Kayeth as he does back her in this matter still, his just not thrilled with the possible outcome.

Kayeth lands heavily beyond Iaverulth, teeth snapping back at the challenging gold, sides heaving with the force of her angered breath. « You WILL go, » Kayeth snarls, circling the other queen with her wings spread, neck arched, and bristling. Proud, in control, SENIOR. Her mind pushes back against Iaverulth, calling upon the strength of her supporters to back up her words. « You and yours will leave this place. If you wish to rule, rule over the island in Drake's Lake. You are banished from Fort. »

Zuvaleyuth comes in for a landing once Iaverulth falls, the pale gold quiet, now. She looms, in silent support of Kayeth. Though, a brief bristle for the location of her banishment. She is calmer, now, but tense and poised much like her rider.

Iaverulth bares her teeth, dropping into a menacing and threatening posture even as Kayeth lands and challenges back. Where as the senior gold holds her neck arched high and proud, the paler gold has hers lowered as she slinks into circling her adversary. She has one last surge of rebellion, a final push against the mental binding that sees her rear up and tower briefly above Kayeth, coming so close to lashing out but it's all a ruse. So close that even some of the riders who have scrambled out to watch yell out loud and are drowned out by other dragons bugling in alarm but needlessly so. Dragon never fights dragon, not physically and there is no flight lust here to drive the queens to such ends. It's about dominance and territory and it's obvious who reigns here. Even Iaverulth, in her state, knows Kayeth holds that power and Fort's support under her and with another shriek and snapping at open air, the gold reluctantly submits. With thunderous growling and snarls still directed to Kayeth, she sinks to her feet, wings pinned to her side and her fate determined. « As you wish! » she spits in ice and black emptiness as she attempts to slide by Kayeth and back to her ledge if she's even permitted to move at this point.

Kainaesyth may pull away, but Rhenesath remains with her wings spread, her neck craned and every inch of her alert to Iaverulth. She snaps her head up at the young gold's ruse, squawking in alarm and warning - and when it's revealed as nothing more than a feint, the brown-gold queen sinks lower on all fours, a rumbling sound of discontent reverberating through her throat. Her thoughts turn to something more akin to growing ease when submission is clear, and these thoughts are openly shared with those around her, perhaps in an attempt to soothe their anger, to help calm the cooling situation.

Kainaesyth paces along the edge of the gathered dragons, the rain finally beginning to fall. It's a soothing rain, and he narrows his thoughts just to those of the defiant queen. « Will you choose the freedom they offer? » For in his mind it seems to be a simple enough freedom. « Those whose journeys are twined with thine will come to be with you and thine no matter how far away from the center you are found. »

Kayeth rears up as well, wings snapping open as she snarls back at Iaverulth. But there is no contact, no bloodshed, as the rebel queen submits. Kayeth moves aside as Iaverulth moves past, watching her closely as she goes. There's a low snort, and Kayeth's furious winds begin to die down. Then, with a surge of energy she kicks off into the sky to circle Tooth Crag, talons reaching out to grip the sloped stone, wings spread and holding herself there. Above Fort, above HER weyr, and she roars to the weyr, reasserting herself as leader. Mental winds curl about the minds of those dragons who stood beside her in thanks and gratitude and love.

Niumdreoth stays quiet as he conitnues to watch, his gaze drifting towrads Iaverulth, a low cuff of a sound escaping him. He does not have any ill will towards her even after all this, they have gotten along rather well in the past. His tail slowly sways and he moves upwards heading to the air and taking off with a flap of his wings. He heads towards the forest without a glance back to the bowl.

Tovihasuth finally roars at Iaverulth's posturing, eyes burning crimson until it becomes clear that the pale queen has finally submitted. With a final rumble, he settles back to all fours, furling his wings and dipping his head to offer a brief nuzzle to Kouzevelth's neck even as he watches the retreating gold. Then he lifts his gaze to follow Kayeth, rearing up one more time to bugle happily in response to Kayeth's assertion. His dam, his Senior - there's no way he'd think of following anyone else!

Zuvaleyuth gives a gentle croon to the Senior above the Weyr, the thanks, gratitude, and love is returned, fully, now. There is no more reservations. An odd sort of acceptance of her return home, but it is there. And, now that there is no tension on her end, the gold meanders off to find a nice place to sun and nap.

Kouzevelth at last raises her head, bumping her snout against Tovihasuth for a moment in gratitude before sitting up on her haunches and stretching out her wings. Stretch, ruffle, resettle — all is well, now, if they are going, yes? She is radiating a strange sense of pride, in Kayeth, in Fort's dragons for not heeding to Iaverulth's demands. Even Kainaesyth's odd neutrality is forgotten in the light of what feels like dawning peace. Her softer rains find Kayeth's wind and let it carry her clouds along, loyalty and affection obvious. A few drops stray to Zuvaleyuth, riddled with the sort of companionship one finds between daughter and dam.

Iaverulth hisses and crouches lower when Kayeth flies up to the Tooth Crag and roars, reclaiming her position within Fort Weyr and being answered by many a voice. On the ledge where the pale gold now huddles miserably is the rushing form of her rider and the two reunite briefly before she disappears. Jajen is taking the warnings she received to heart and the gold's straps are fastened as fast as she can go. Packing too. All while Iaverulth growls and grows all the more tense and uncomfortable in a Weyr who has, more or less, turned against them for the time being. « We have no choice but to choose what they offer. It is this or nothing. » Iaverulth informs Kainaesyth cooly, her mind an empty void of endless black. « We shall see. » But there is no confidence there, just a tense wariness. Time is ticking and the longer they linger, the tension risks building up again. Finally, Jajen mounts up and Iaverulth spreads her wings, met with a few growls from neighbouring dragons to which she simply hisses and pushes off her ledge. She spirals up, keeping well away from Kayeth's lofty perch, hovering for a moment above the Weyr and then vanishes Between.

Kayeth watches Iaverulth vanish, and then she soars down from Tooth Crag to join Wiyaneth on the Star Stones, settling and watching the weyr below. Calm, now.

Odd or not, Kainaesyth is entrenched deeply in the neutrality that lingers deep within his soul. His gaze follows the pale gold upwards into the air his thoughts remaining sweetly twined with hers, a silent presence of love. She was still one of theirs, despite the distance or anger between her and the weyr. A promise that they would come to see… after the storm dies down. When they blink between Kainaesyth launches into the sky, drifting out over the forest, withdrawing from the others of the weyr.

Velokraeth has been there the entire time but unsure of where to go. What could he do? Of course he's fond of all the golds (he's sired pretty much all of them) in his own way and hates to see one chased off. Yet Kayeth is HIS Queen, the senior Queen and he dares not show comfort to Iaverulth less it further upset the fiery gold. He's on his ledge, his stunted and twisted form stiff and tense, misshaped eyes whirling in yellow and red. There is a gusty sigh when Iaverulth finally disappears and he shakes his too-large head. Such a pity and waste! To Rhenesath, Kouzevelth, Zuvaleyuth and yes, even Wiyaneth, he sends a brief touch of calming comfort. With the source of the trouble gone, Velokraeth deems it a safe time to approach Kayeth. His voice had been among the many who answered her roar and his mind that aided in the final judgement of Iaverulth's insolent behaviour (even if it bothers him to have picked a side). It was the truth behind it that weighed his choice. Kayeth was in the right and so it's to Kayeth that Velokraeth flies up to high on the Star Stones, careful to still linger at a respectful distance. He whistles sweetly to her, a soft and gentle call. Can he join her? And Wiyaneth too.

Kayeth will welcome Velokraeth to join them, as she continues to watch the weyr below.