Fort Weyr - Ledge of Autumn's Flame
The second ledge reached along the long and narrow flight of stairs is now Kayeth's. Hundreds of turns of Senior Queens have rested their heads along this rocky outcrop, and Kayeth lays where Holth, Wiyaneth and countless others once did. The second couch of the weyr is often empty, unless Kayeth is entertaining visitors. This vast cavern looks out across the bowl towards the lake and the rockslide, and the setting sun often bathes this ledge in amber and rose hues. Annexed to this large cavern is both the Council Room and the Records Room, the latter reached by a flight of descending circular stairs.
A curved couch has been set up inside the cavern, forming a small quiet reading nook with a view of both dragon couches and the weyr. A bookcase behind it holds the records she uses most often, so Nyalle doesn't have to work her way down the narrow stairs. Beside the hearth is an old wood china cabinet filled with a few pieces of precious china, each tea cup and saucer different from the others.
A short hallway and a door separates the weyr from Nyalle's sleeping room, and beyond that is her bath. The portion of the chiseled stone which sits directly beneath Tooth Crag has been curtained off, and forms a little lounge/office, where Nyalle and work or entertain visitors.


With any flight comes the aftermath. Predictable, routine… unless you're not wholly expecting to wake up in a strange weyr. Not that Nyalle's weyr is strange in the least to Mr'az. He's been here before and has shared her bed on many occasions (not that he brags about it). As he stirs awake, his mind as sluggish as his body, it takes him several minutes to realize the impact of his being here, NOW, means. "Damn it." It's said in a shaky, almost laughed breath. "He actually did it." He meaning Zhirazoth. Amusement fades fast, as Mr'az is sobered by the cold realization of what he will now become. Turning his head, he'll untangle his one arm to gently press his hand against the back of the woman laying next to him. "Nyalle?" he calls softly.

Nyalle stirs slowly awake, laying there with her eyes closed for a moment to gather herself. "We have a meeting this afternoon, Th'ero, don't forget," is what she says, scooting quickly towards the end of the bed, especially after feeling his hand on her body.

Well that stings a little! Mr'az frowns at Nyalle's retreating form, but he'll keep his voice light. Even slip in a soft chuckle. "Try again, Nyalle or better yet… look." He's decent, promise! She'll have enough of a shock in a moment. Afternoon meeting? Pfft. That'll wait, won't it?

Nyalle blinks, and then she whirls around, eyes widening in surprise. Wait, what? "Mr'az? But…where's Th'ero?" Ow.

Stung again! Mr'az smirks and then sighs, sitting up as he gives her a crooked smile. "Not here? It wasn't Velokraeth who caught Kayeth…" She can put the rest together, right? He pats the bed beside him. Come back? He doesn't seem as eager as she is to get up.

Nyalle stares at him, uncomprehending - or disbelieving - for a long moment before she slowly shifts closer. "You're…Weyrleader…" It's half statement but still half question too. "Velokraeth lost."

Mr'az is perplexed as she continues to stare at him as though he's some complete stranger in her bed. He's careful not to move too swiftly, but he does beckon her closer. Honestly, she knows he doesn't bite! "I… am," he begins, hesitant now himself as he speaks the title outlaid. "Weyrleader. Your Weyrleader." As it should be! Some smug part of him is pleased or it could just be the echo of Zhirazoth's smug satisfaction. He nods, "Both he and Th'ero lost. It happens."

Nyalle blinks a few times, and she feels a twinge of guilt for her brief flicker of doubt. Mr'az? Weyrleader? Not…not Th'ero? Then she smiles, slowly, and scoots over back to his side. "My Weyrleader…" she whispers. Yes. Yes, this is how it should be. The leadership should be a couple… it's only proper.

That's more like the Nyalle Mr'az knows and remembers well! As she scoots over back to his side, he'll lift his arm up and try to wrap it around her and draw her closer to him. "Weyrwoman," he answers and this time his voice is low with amusement and his mouth quirked into a smile. He's handling this change well but then it's no challenge to admit he's Weyrleader. The real challenges will come later. "Are you happy with this? And are you alright?" There's a double meaning to that and while he keeps his eyes locked to hers, his hand will notably go to Nyalle's belly where the signs of her pregnancy are finally beginning to show. They were going to announce it soon, weren't they?

Nyalle covers his hand with hers and nods. "I'm fine," she answers, offering him a gentle kiss. "I'm fine. And you? Are you ready for this?"

Mr'az returns her kiss and chuckles dryly as he rests his head by hers, not removing his hand from the curve of her belly. He figures she doesn't mind the gesture. "What? Being a father?" he teases gently but he knows very well what she meant. "Who could ever be ready to be Weyrleader, Nyalle? I've confidence I can do it… but it'll be a lot of change to handle. Others will have to adjust as well." He's no fool in that. He's expecting some to be less than thrilled with the Leadership change.

Nyalle nods slightly. "I…what will you do about Th'ero? And that bluerider of his?"

Mr'az sighs and shrugs his shoulders in a dismissive manner. Must they bring those two up now? "What is there to be done? Th'ero can do nothing but accept it and his weyrmate will no doubt follow him. He's too much pride to make a spectacle of things or challenge me, so I suspect he'll simply behave accordingly. I'll leave it to him to chose which Wing he feels best suited to." He tilts his head to look at her. "Fair enough, don't you think?"

Nyalle nods again, though it makes her uneasy. She has a feeling Th'ero and Kimmila won't accept things so easily. "Fair enough," she finally concedes.

Mr'az knows it as well but he's trying to keep an optimistic outlook. He'll weather the storm when it'll come and it'll come soon enough. He leans over and kisses her, ready to move on to other topics. Namely: "Shall we have ourselves a little celebratory meal?" he asks her with a gentle smile.

Nyalle returns the kiss and then chuckles, shaking her head. "No, we have a meeting to get to and the Holders won't care that there was just a Flight. I'll…what do you want to drink? I'll have to switch out Th'ero's ales for your preference." And change the food order. And…and…wow. A new Weyrleader changes everything.

Mr'az sighs but he won't argue (this time). Slowly he will untangle himself from her and the sheets, slowly rising from the bed and stretching. "You don't have to go through that trouble, not when we have more pressing concerns. Leave that to the drudges to do. I'd not mind… I suppose we've some Benden vintages about, don't we?" He does enjoy his wine. He starts to look for his clothing but is in no hurry still to dress. "What is this meeting concerning?" She's going to have to fill him in… on A LOT of details. Turns of them. He's only ever been a Wingrider, not privy to a lot of the information held quiet by the previous Weyrleader and hushed among his staff.

Nyalle nods. "I'll have some brought to the Council Chambers," she assures him as she begins to dress, hastily. She has THings to get done. "It's another meeting about the trades. The trades gone wrong, and how the weyr is responding."

Mr'az exhailes wearily and scrubs a hand along his jaw. "How long before we're to gather? I best get my hands on the last reports… I only know as much as a Wingrider of Thunderbird ought to." He'll finish dressing as well, now that he realizes just how serious this meeting could be. Wouldn't do for him to make an utter fool of himself. He's about to pick up his jacket, only to realize he has the wrong knot. "What about this?"

"A few candlemarks," Nyalle replies, before she glances at his knot and frowns. "I'll have a Weaver make you a new one. Th'ero's is…" Who knows where it is. "Old."

Mr'az snorts and shrugs his shoulders again but he'll remove his old Wingrider knot all the same. "Suppose it won't matter if I don't have a new one for this meeting." Slipping on his jacket, he'll turn to give Nyalle a warm smile. "I'll see you in a few candlemarks, then? I best prepare."

Nyalle shakes her head. "You'll have it before the meeting," she promises, pulling on her shoes and grabbing her jacket. "Yes," she says, hastening past him and out the door. Stuff to dooooo.

Mr'az has only time to chuckle as Nyalle hastens by him but he won't linger long either. Only to be sure that the door to her weyr is closed and a brief peek in the wallow where Zhirazoth remains protectively coiled beside and around Kayeth, resting. Well earned rest, in Mr'az's opinion! He'll turn away and make his way to the record room inside the council chamber. He'll find enough of what he needs in there for now but he'll realize fast enough that Th'ero's kept some of the more delicate information tucked away somewhere. THAT will be a discussion he'll face another day.


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