Logs:AU - Enough
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 12 April, 2013 |
| Who: Madilla, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Thirteen-turn-old Madilla is Searched for Teonath and Wyaeth's clutch... and Impresses gold Riessyth. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Turn 15 - onwards |
| OOC Notes: Please excuse the absolute self-indulgence that is this vignette. Some background: Suireh, Leova and I occasionally discuss possible AUs for our characters - all kinds of what-if fun. Some time ago, we discussed what might have happened if Madilla had Impressed instead of Lujayn from Teonath and Wyaeth's clutch - a conversation that came out of the fact that, once upon a time, I had intended to apply her for search (though not that clutch). Today is the fifth anniversary of Madilla's creation, and a few weeks ago, I decided I'd entertain myself by writing this particular AU to commemorate it. It... got long. 5000 words (exactly!) worth of long. It turns out that altering one Impression (okay: two) changes everything in High Reaches' recent history. Go figure. Happy fifth anniversary, Madilla! |
| Madilla had briefly wondered if something was up: her Uncle had been looking at her more frequently, recently, as if he was evaluating her. Aunt Essa had been pushing her into the herb-work more forcefully. In the end, it didn't matter: in the last days of autumn dragonriders came to their little home, and though they were a long, long way from High Reaches' coverage area, they took Madilla all the same. Her mother cried. Her Uncle told her it was her duty to go: they knew, all too well, what Thread could do to an unprotected field. Knowing it was her duty and being comfortable in it were two very different things. The Weyr was terrifying, so full of people and dragons - so new in every way possible. Madilla shrank into herself, hiding herself away from the other Candidates. A few of them tried to draw her out. A few of them even succeeded, a little. She was the youngest, if only by a matter of months; some of the others were a full ten turns or more her senior, and that was intimidating. At least there was Eledro, who was nearly fifteen, and Kasadel, too. She kind of liked Kasadel, whose excitement at having been searched from his home hold, somewhere near Tillek, chosen out of all of his siblings despite being one of the youngest... well, it was hard not to get caught up in that kind of excitement. He just wanted to Impress: he yearned for it, in a way she couldn't quite grasp, but liked. She hoped he got his wish. She didn't even know if she wanted to Impress, or if she really, really didn't. She was thirteen turns old, and in desperately over her head. It all felt terribly abstract: something that would happen to someone else. Even so, some part of her suspected there would be no homecoming, at the end of it. She'd seen too much: in the space of weeks, she'd made herself unsuitable for life at home. What kind of man would marry a girl who had spent that time at the Weyr? Who could say that yes, she'd seen a green's flight, and the aftermath. Who'd been carried away to the Weyr by a man who spent his private time with another man. She wondered what she would do, if she didn't Impress. Perhaps the healers would let her help, as an aide. Perhaps the nannies would. (She wondered what she would do if she did Impress. How could she ever fight Thread?) In the end, it didn't matter, did it? Early in the morning on the twenty-eighth day of month eight, Turn 15, Madilla followed the other Candidates out onto the sands. Someone thrust a hand at her, and she took it, taking comfort in the weight of solid fingers twined through her own. The little dragons were somehow both smaller and larger than she'd expected, and so ungainly: she was terrified of them. Luckily, at first, none of them came near, not until a little powder-blue swept up Kasadel - K'del! - and then there was E'dro's bronze, too, and oh, their excitement was wonderful and terrifying all at once. She was just beginning to feel like she might escape this experience alive when Riessyth's mind came in contact with hers, right as the little queen threw her head against Madilla's belly, nearly toppling her over.
« I'm Riessyth, Madilla, » the young queen had said, her voice warm, and heavy with some unidentifiable burr that was instantly soothing. « I'd like something to eat. » Later, when she'd fed the dragon -- her dragon -- to bursting, and oiled her, and laid her down to sleep, Madilla sat beside her, cross-legged, and cried. She wasn't sure why: she was happy, of course she was, but she was terrified, too. Riessyth seemed to know everything about her, already, but what did Madilla know about anything? She didn't even know how to read. That was one of the first things she learned. It was hard: she was so far behind everyone else in everything, it felt, and yet her dragon was gold, and she would one day have to help lead the Weyr. She cried herself to sleep more nights than she didn't, even though Riessyth was so perfectly understanding, and so strict-with-a-side-of-kind. She made Madilla want to achieve; she made her so disappointed with herself, when she didn't. The months passed. Slowly, with Riessyth's careful prodding, she began to make friends, opening up to some of her fellow weyrlings and learning about them in return. The silver threads were protective of her, on the whole, though she suspected they would have spoken more openly (and more crudely) if she hadn't been there. She and Leova became friends, slowly but steadily. She wondered, a little, at the inclusion of K'del in their number - him, a leader? He seemed far more interested in enjoying himself, and in (she blushed, thinking about it) attempting to get the girls to take off their shirts. No doubt I'daur and his assistants knew what they were doing... she hoped. Besides, it was scarcely her place to wonder such things. Fear of disappointing Satiet was, in many ways, worse than fear of disappointing Riessyth. Riessyth would always love her-- but the Weyrwoman did not need her. She could transfer away this so-useless Junior, this girl of thirteen who had so very far to go; Madilla was terrified of that (it would take her a very long time, many turns, before she could look back and realise that it had all been a plan - that the Weyrwoman had been challenging her, in this and in so many other things). She'd written home, early on, once words were easier to put on the page, but no letters had come in return. Once she was free to travel, she visited, but it was unsatisfying: her mother cried, and hugged her so very tightly, but it was clear that she and Riessyth were not wholly welcome. Riessyth made them uncomfortable, but it was Madilla herself who concerned them. She sent money home, instead, as much as she could afford to. What need did she have for nice things? She was fourteen, when they graduated, and still considered far too young to even join the queen's wing. Her time was to be spent assisting I'daur, and learning more about what her duties would be when she graduated. There had been no rush, earlier: she was just so young. Extended weyrlinghood did not bother her as much as it might have worried another; she was glad of the time, glad that it meant she did not have to live up to anything just yet. But watching her clutchmates (all but K'del, who probably yearned to get his opportunity even more than she did) fly off to fight Thread upset her every time. She and Riessyth were considered useful enough to the dragonhealers, useful in calming injured dragons and in running errands and passing information. All that herb-lore Aunt Essa had taught her was helpful, but not helpful enough: she yearned to be able to do something more, something concrete. Thread did not fall for much longer, at least, though the final 'fall was a terrible one, and Madilla cried herself to sleep against Riessyth's side that night, willing the dreadful images out of her mind. She couldn't imagine facing it without the young queen, whose practical, no-nonsense outlook did not stop her from being so deeply, deeply comforting. Satiet trained her. She worked hard to learn, to try and impress the (terrifying) Weyrwoman. Every so often, Madilla would realise that the Weyrwoman was making a mistake... but she did not correct her. Not the first time, not the second, not even the fifth. Slowly, however, she began to wonder: was it intentional? Was she being tested? She wasn't sure, but she felt like maybe there was approval in the dark-haired woman's eyes the first time she attempted, very tentatively, to offer an alternative. It was slow progress.
Madilla was sent to spend time at all of the Weyrs, a few weeks at each one, spaced out over the months and months of her extended weyrlinghood. They were all good learning experiences, but she felt adrift and alone, sent so far from home. Tiriana did not have to do such things, but she was older, already a proper Junior. She was sure Satiet preferred the other woman, and that this was yet another sign of it. At least she had Riessyth, whose steady, practical reminders kept her from losing hope. Besides, if this was a test - and she was increasingly sure that many things that had to do with Satiet were - she was determined to pass it. She worked hard. She was still a weyrling, still not a weyrwoman of any kind, but she understood what her future would be: this was important. She was three-quarters-past fifteen when Riessyth rose for the first time. The young queen was well over two turns old, by then; it was as though she'd held off, deliberately, waiting for her young rider's readiness. Madilla was still not ready, not really: she'd done her duty (as she saw it) and enlisted another rider to deal with her virginity beforehand, but the experience was nonetheless overwhelming. E'dro was as inexperienced as she was; their tentative friendship was rocked by Hroxeth's catch, and the young bronzerider took to avoiding Madilla out of awkwardness. At least Riessyth and Hroxeth had a solid clutch of fifteen, which pleased Madilla. Her queen was maternal in a different way than she was; between the two of them, even if E'dro was a disappointment, they found quiet comfort in being sands-bound. At least it meant staying at High Reaches. It gave her a leg up against Tiriana, too, whose Iovniath was yet to rise. Riessyth's babies were almost enough, for Madilla, to make up for the lack of her own: she had never felt so proud when she watched them find their pairs, one after another. She turned sixteen, and was finally, officially, a Junior Weyrwoman. Still tentative with her opinions, and uncomfortable with the trappings of rank, she was nonetheless a far cry from the scared little girl she had been. It was hard to know if she made Satiet proud, but she tried-- she was determined to do so. Satiet, however, was increasingly concerning her. Something was wrong, and though Madilla desperately wanted to, she could not gather enough nerve to ask. The Weyrwoman hung on for months, as though she was waiting for something, though anyone could see that she was struggling, and attempting to hide it. It was devastating, when I'daur went Between: it brought back too many memories of Threadfall, of childhood, of terrible things. But Madilla sat and listened to those whose grief was more raw than hers, putting aside her own to be of assistance. It felt good, to have something productive to do. Satiet was barely able to leave the Weyr when Iovniath rose in her maiden flight, early that spring; privately, Madilla wondered if it were even necessary. Surely Teonath would not rise while Satiet was so obviously ill. Surely she could not. Even so, she wasn't prepared for the news that she woke to, only a few days later. Riessyth's quiet, « She's gone, Madilla. They're gone. » was one of the worst moments of her life. The aftermath, and the letter and knot Satiet left for her, were worse: the Weyr was hers, now. She was still only sixteen turns old, and High Reaches was going to be hers.
Sometimes she wondered whether it wouldn't have been better for Teonath to have gone before Iovniath rose. Surely, mercurial as she was, Tiriana was a better choice? Serving as her right-hand, her... conscience, she thought, and felt guilty over, that would be better. « She chose you, » said Riessyth. « And our place is not to question that wisdom, but to act on it. Don't doubt her. She chose her time. She chose you. » It was true, and yet... « And don't mind Iovniath and her rider, either. Imagine how you would feel, if it were you: deliberately passed over. Give her time. » She fretted over Satiet's two little daughters, too. Certainly, they had an uncle to care for them, and he seemed capable enough, but oh-- she would have liked to adopt them herself, and hold them to her chest, but she had no idea what to say. She could never replace their mother, not in that, and likely not for the Weyr. How could anyone follow on from Satiet? It felt like every Weyr around Pern had advice for her. Some offered queens, and though Madilla wistfully wished she could accept, she knew - or Riessyth knew, and thus, she did, too - that no such offer came without a cost. Until Riessyth rose to confirm her leadership, it wouldn't be safe, and even then... such a young Weyrwoman was an ideal target for manipulation. It was a good thing Riessyth was so politically adept; it made up for Madilla's naivete. It could be turns before Riessyth rose, and that left Madilla no choice but to make the best of the situation. It was a dreadful blow, when the tithe caravans were robbed, that first autumn. B'sil's experience as a Wingleader was not the same as having experience as a Weyrleader, and it was difficult going. Despite their best efforts, they failed to catch the thieves before winter came, and the result a lean winter indeed. Not, Madilla thought to herself, trying not to cry into her dragon's warm hide, what she'd hoped for, in this first winter without Satiet. The raids continued, when spring arrived. There was less to steal... but for those it was stolen from, it mattered more. Small Holds were going hungry. The Weyr's reputation was was taking hit after hit. It took until late in the summer before those efforts came to anything... and when they did, it was at the expense of young K'del's life. He and his Avrinnoth had stumbled upon a group of Vijays at a bar, quite by accident. It was hard to know what happened, exactly, after that, except that it didn't seem as though he'd done anything deliberately stupid: he'd gotten the information out to the Weyr, and held his own for as long as he could. Madilla hoped he hadn't tried to play the hero, not more than was necessary; it didn't matter. He was a hero. He was remembered as one. Both of them were. By then, even Madilla, worn down by the toll it was taking on her home, did not question the decision to send all of the Vijay men to the mines-- they'd killed a dragonrider, they'd stolen from the Weyr, they deserved it. She knew what it would mean for the children, but what could she do? The Weyr had no resources to help them, not now. « Besides, » said Riessyth, « How can we trust them? Being a woman does not make a person good or bad. They must have known what their men were doing. » Tiriana wanted to kill them all. Tiriana wanted to hurt a lot of things, those days. Her anger made Madilla uncomfortable; she wished, desperately, that she could find a way to find common ground with her junior. Tiriana, however, seemed impossible to reach. Finally, Riessyth rose in the early months of Turn 21, nearly a full two turns since the deaths of Teonath and Satiet. Madilla was relieved when B'sil's Aristath caught Riessyth; B'sil was old enough to be her father, if not her grandfather, but he was a known quantity. She was not yet nineteen turns old, and, finally, confirmed as High Reaches' senior. Riessyth was still on the sands when Igen approached with an offer to temporarily exchange juniors: a development opportunity. Exactly why they wanted Tiriana she couldn't say (it was an uncharitable thought, but one Madilla couldn't help. It had been a long two turns, and she felt so much older than she was). It was a relief to say yes-- her position was secured, now, and a more experienced Junior would surely be helpful. It was. Ezalea was exactly the kind of woman Madilla was comfortable with; she was bright and warm and friendly, and so useful. For the first time since Satiet's death, Madilla felt as though she could relax into her position. Help was at hand. It was a peculiar relationship, in some ways: Ezalea older and more experienced, but quite comfortable as a junior to Madilla's youth and inexperience. But if it worked... She hoped it could be made permanent. She felt terrible, palming Tiriana off on another Weyr, but... it was just so much nicer, knowing she had another pair of hands who didn't need to be managed at all times. Nahalith, Ezalea's queen, rose later on that Turn - she clutched a queen, the first to be laid on High Reaches' sands since Riessyth herself. It was while she was on the sands that the meteors fell, a spectacle most of the Weyr had turned out to see. No one had anticipated them actually falling on the Weyr, though: they took down the star stones, shattered part of the bowl wall. They took down Ezalea, who took a stone to the head, and never regained consciousness. Igen was furious, and demanded that Nahalith's clutch be returned to Igen. They sent Tiriana back - a Tiriana who was bitter and angry at having been forced to move yet again. A Tiriana who fought Madilla at every turn. It was an awful thing, for Madilla, watching Nahalith's clutch hatch. The young queen chose a red-haired girl from the lower caverns; all of the young dragons chose, one by one. They were transported away to Igen soon after, leaving behind a Weyr that was damaged both physically and emotionally.
They had to hire convicts to repair the bowl, and Starsmiths for the Star Stones. Madilla hated using prisoner labour, but there was no way around it: they simply didn't have the resources for anything else. She kept them at the Weyr for as little time as she could, making sure the worst of the damage was repaired, leaving only a handful of new caverns behind. Storerooms, she supposed. Something. It would have been nicer to do something fancier, something that might be perceived as a great thing, something positive out of all the tragedy, but... where were the marks to come from? She had to be practical. Iovniath rose, that turn, and in late Turn 23, Riessyth did. The bowl was rebuilt, but the Weyr still seemed so fragile, so prone to disaster. Riessyth's flight brought a new Weyrleader in the form of M'kend, a one-time Farmer who had Impressed in Riessyth's first clutch. She couldn't call him young - he was a decade older than she was! - but Madilla found his inexperience frustrating. At least B'sil had understood. She felt positively ancient, sometimes. « You're doing the best you can, Madilla, » Riessyth would chide her, when it all became too much. « No one expects you to be perfect. How much of this has been your fault? Exactly none, by my count. Feeling sorry for yourself won't solve anything. Now... What did Milani need from us? Let's have another look at those numbers. » Riessyth's clutches were, at least, a little like having children of her own. Oh, they grew up and stopped needing her far too quickly, but for a little while-- she tried not to think about it. It wasn't fair to a child, to do something like that half-hearted. She had no weyrmate, and no time. She wouldn't have a child just to hand them over to the nurseries; that wasn't fair to anyone. She was running the Weyr almost on her own - since her return, Tiriana had become almost worse than useless. It felt as though nothing could breach the gap between them; nothing could solve this problem. Neither queen laid another gold egg: there was no respite coming.
In Turn 26, the exiles-- the Islanders-- were found. Madilla was horrified at what had happened to them, and brought them back to the Weyr immediately, transporting a number of them herself. She and M'kend called a meeting with High Reaches Hold, forcing the issue of a settlement-- whatever had happened, all those turns ago, these people deserved a fair chance, now. She was especially pleased when Lord Rynien called his son home from Tillek in the hopes of his finding a marriage partner in one of the young exile women, a marriage that took place early the following turn. Tiriana refused to allow any of the exiles to Stand for Iovniath's clutch, that turn, but it scarcely mattered: several of them Impressed anyway, called down from the sands by the new partners. Iolene and her green, Devaki and his bronze, Riorde and her brown: they were good matches, all of them. It disappointed Madilla, just a little, that it was Iovniath who laid a queen first, and not Riessyth, but at least young Elhanaeth was High Reachian through her sire: Z'ian's Tsanth. Not everyone was happy about the exiles, but their integration back into life at both Hold and Weyr was nonetheless relatively smooth: it helped that the leaders of both wished to work together to make things work. Madilla was pleased with that; she liked knowing that she could lead the way, doing something positive for a change. She had a reputation, now: High Reaches' mother-figure, both warm and strict, increasingly similar to her own dragon. Madilla was twenty-four Turns old - she'd been senior for eight turns. She had to laugh: she was still young enough to Stand for Riessyth's clutches, even after all this time. There were young women Standing whom she might have liked to be friends with, but it was always so hard; there was such a gap between them. She would always be the Weyrwoman, and for too many people, that was a gap that couldn't be effectively bridged. M'kend' leadership came to an end in early Turn 27, when Riessyth rose for her fourth flight. It bothered Madilla, a little, that her dragon had been caught by four different dragons in four different flights, and that the Weyr was, once more, sent into upheaval by the change. She wasn't sure if it was better or worse that S'varis was originally HIgh Reachian, but an Igen rider since he Impressed his bronze from Nahalith's last clutch. He was a known... but also not. And he was young, inexperienced despite his ambition. Her fingers itched to tighten control: this was her Weyr, hers and Riessyth's. And where had that feeling even come from? It was hard to think back to the Madilla who had arrived at the Weyr, all those turns ago. A different person. A lifetime ago. « You became the person you needed to be, Madilla, » Riessyth reminded her. « For the good of the Weyr. I'm proud of you. » It was enough.
Luckily, in Turn 28, that proved unnecessary: Braeden's daughter had surprisingly dark hair for two blonde parents, but enough people swore blind that she had her father's eyes that... well, no one liked to argue. Much. Quietly, Madilla suppressed her biological clock. She'd never found a man she wished to settle down with, though she'd often longed for such a thing, but oh - a baby. That longing was harder and deeper, so intense, sometimes, it felt like a physical ache. If only there were time. Even with a second junior, and one a little more useful than Tiriana, it just didn't seem fair. Duty first, right? Duty first. She'd watched Satiet's daughters grow up from a distance, never quite comfortable in approaching them; even now, she felt afraid of their judgment, them more than anyone. She was in the galleries, down at Monaco, when Suireh Impressed her queen, and Riahla her blue. Exactly why they had chosen to Stand at Monaco and not High Reaches she didn't know... but she found herself fretting, quietly, that it was because of her. Still: she was proud of them, proud in that detached way that comes from knowing people only through someone else. Tiriana transferred away by choice, in Turn 30. Xia of Honshu needed a junior, someone to pass her Weyr onto within the next few turns, and for reasons Madilla didn't quite understand, she chose Tiriana. Did Xia see something that Madilla could not? Or-- she suspected that circumstances had destroyed any chance of a productive working relationship, and she mourned it. Would it have been better, she wondered, if Satiet had left Tiriana her knot? Would she have minded, being Tiriana's junior for all these turns? It was hard to imagine - nearly impossible. It was hard to imagine any life but this one, with all its ups and downs. Had she not come to the Weyr, she'd be married, probably with half a dozen children or more. And that was a nice idea, in a way. But oh - to never have had Riessyth! To never have learned properly to read, or seen the world outside of her own home. It was incomprehensible. She pitied her former self, and that self-that-might-have-been. She could not regret the past sixteen turns. This was how life was meant to be. She had Riessyth. She had High Reaches. It was enough.
She was thirty-nine when she felt the lump in her breast, and knew that this was the beginning of the end. « We'll prepare ourselves, » said Riessyth, prosaic about it; calm and composed. « And the Weyr. We'll go as they did. When the time comes. » More than twenty turns on, and neither had forgotten mentor and Weyrwoman, mentor and dam. How could they? It wasn't difficult, in the end, to wrap up their affairs. There were no lovers to farewell, and no children to weep over. Their juniors were competent and well-trained, and their friends... well. It did not take so many hours to farewell them. « Together, » said Riessyth, as she rose into the air. « Together, » Madilla agreed. They jumped. |
Comments
K'zin (Wakizian (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 13 Apr 2013 00:56:59 GMT.
<
OMG. So good. This one made me teary. Also, why does K'del always die in all your fantasy stories?!
Satiet (Satiet (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 13 Apr 2013 01:26:03 GMT.
<
I bet it's cause K'del was actually originally slated to die. XD
K'del (K'del (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 13 Apr 2013 01:27:48 GMT.
< DEATH. DESTRUCTION. MAYHEM.
And stuff.
<3
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 14 Apr 2013 03:40:16 GMT.
<
AUGH. <3 Just... the words. I've said them all and I don't want to gush but this was fascinating. Wonderful. I was instantly hooked and it's just... getting to see a different Madilla, a peek at a completely changed lifetime. Wow. It was all very revealing, and kind of reassuring in that the changes to her character seemed natural but appropriately different.
In the end, I thought of this: "In retrospect, dragonrider Madilla would probably have been miserable, but healer Madilla? Totally content." I wouldn't call this miserable, but... yeah. Healer Madilla seems the happier sort. <3
Happy 5th Anniversary, Madilla! :D
Roz (18:45, 21 November 2014 (EST)) said...
It's taken me this long to read this - hey, I wasn't around then - but this was a good read. I love how all the pieces fit together. And the end? I have to admit, I got a little emotional. I never get emotional! Go go robotic emotions. But, really. This was great.
Leave A Comment