Hopefully Home [Open]

[Lyrikitty]

Katya stood with on hand on Basionath's foreleg. New Cove had been kind to them while they healed, or rather while Katya healed and Basionath fretted like a mother hen. The Silver had been highly stressed for a large portion of Katya's recovery, and the sluggish crawl of the process hadn't made things easier for anyone. Now though... Well now she was healed enough for travel, her few belongings packed up and stapped to her darling Silver, and everything in line for her to head to Skrull Island. She sucked in a deep breath and crawled to Basionath's neck, sitting between the two neck ridges which seemed to be perfectly spaced just for her.

Alright, Sio. Off to our new home. The Silver dipped her head gentley. Yes, MineKatya. To our new home and hopefully a better life. A part of the Silver had wanted to return to Talune, her birthplace, but the last visit she had made turned that hope into an impossibility. So Skrull, it seemed, was their next best bet. The Silver unfurled her wings and heaved herself into the air, her hide glimmering sleekly. The dark taint which Black Sands had cast on her was mostly faded now, her former glory revealing itself wonderously. She didn't look the same dragon which had arrived in New Cove, fleeing for her life from Xanturnoth and D'myn. They circled New Cove once, and Sio bugled a farewell to the Weyr before the vanished, appearing above Skrull seconds later.

Who flies? A Shade cried out, demanding to know who flew above the Weyr. Basionath and Katya, refugees from Black Sands. Your Weyrleader knows we come. They had sent word earlier in the week to B'ach, letting him know they would be leaving New Cove soon. Katya worried that perhaps the Skrull Weyrleader had decided to go back on what they had arranged before. She had been barely coherent at the time they had discussed the matter anyway, was it possible it had been a hallucination? She hoped not. Where else could she go?

She swallowed that fear as the gates creaked opened and they were bid enter. Sio swooped down and glided in, landing delicately within as the gates cosed behind her. It felt.. Terribly closed in. Both she and Katya had always lived with the open sky easily in sight, or only a few steps away. This enclosed world they had just entered was not what they were expecting. It'll be alright Sio. We managed in Black Sands, we should be fine here. At least they don't have Miseries. This is true. They do, however, have Wraiths which could sit on and kill either of us. The Silver heaved a sigh and shrugged, dipping to the ground and letting Katya slide off. I guess now we wait, my angel. "Hello?" She received no response, and with a shrug, the Silverrider stood beside her bonded with arms crossed, hoping things would go well. I wonder where I shall go to sun myself?

[Bacchante]

Another gate, on a nearby wall, swung open to reveal a pale brown-grey dragon upon which was a white-browed man. He smiled and slid off his own dragon that he might go forward and greet the newcomer. "I greet you, Katya of Silver Basionath. I am B'rac, Guard Captain. We have been expecting you. Come, my orders are to escort you to B'ach. He wished to speak with you upon arrival." A brief look of consternation crossed the Ghostrider's face. "Ah, yes... There is one thing. This gate leads to a tunnel down to the Fourth Level. B'ach is on the Fifth, but no dragons save Wraiths are allowed there."

B'rac seemed to ponder this a moment and then shrugged, gesturing for them both to follow. The tunnel was quite wide, easily large enough for a decent-sized bronze but would definitely be hard for an Amber, or a Wraith for that matter. Obviously the latter didn't enter or exit this way. It was quite heavily winding, and went a great way outward and then in again. The Guard Captain appeared apologetic. "Normally we would open the second Gate from that room and allow direct access to the Shaft. But, since you are still an Outsider, we cannot. Rest assured, you will not need to use this way every time you wish to come or go."

Eventually, they came to the end of the path and stepped out on to a wide ledge that lead to a massive empty shaft. B'rac ignored the commonplace, for him, sight, and turned to the left. They moved clockwise perhaps a quarter of the way. "Basionath can wait for you here. This shall be your home during your stay. I'm sure B'ach won't mind if we take a quick look, to make sure that it's adequate."

The outer portion consisted of two doors in the rock, with identical symbols carved above: Numbers in the Old Tongue. One was human sized, which B'rac held open for Katya. The other was dragon sized, with a large enough metal ring to be grasped and pulled open. The small door opened to a corridor, going back into the mountain. At the end was a second door. This one opened into something useful. A decent-sized room, well furnished, with a nook in the corner directly opposite the door.

It had an engraving on one wall of a bird in flight, beneath which sat a wooden couch complete with pillows. There was a low stone table and chairs, two of them. The nook contained a stone bench with doors set into it, cabinets, and a metal ring inset into the floor. Another door sat at the back, opposite to a second one with a hole at the bottom: Quite large. This led to a Weyr large enough for a Shade. The ground of the Weyr was lower than the doors: It had been hollowed out by half a foot at least and filled to below the top with extremely soft, fine sand, for comfort. The inner door could be held open by means of a latch so that the dragon could see into his rider's quarters.

The back door opened on to a bedroom. Inside was a double bed, oaken, simple with very warm looking quilts upon it. "You will stay here. The Bathing Pools are on the first floor, volcanically heated, and separated by gender. We also have pools large enough for dragons. In the floor over there is a pantry, with a spot at the bottom for ice blocks if you wish to keep things cool. You may collect food from the second floor and keep it here, if you wish to eat alone, or eat at the normal times in the dining hall on this floor. Should you need to travel between floors you may not, I'm afraid, ride your dragon in the Shaft; However, at the North, South, East and West sides of the Shaft there are Ghosts who will ferry you between levels. Have you any questions, before we go see B'ach?"

[Lyrikitty]

A man appeared, introducing himself, and Katya offered a wary smile. She didn't know what to expect from her new home, and it made her nervous. As did the announcement that Sio wouldn't be accompanying her up.

She remained calm though, pleasent even, as she was shown her room and she looked about, watching Sio make herself comfortable. You will be fine, Mine. I hope... I do not think they would invite you here just to hurt you. The SIlver watched her rider with mild conern in her eyes, though she made no move as Katy turned to B'rac and nodded. "The room looks lovely. Let us go meet the Weyrleader now. I'm eager to get this over with and return to Sio. We've... Been through a lot. I'd like to see her properly settled and get comfortable myself in the place we'll be sleeping."

She did hope he'd not think her rude fort he want to get everything in order. She was tired of being shuttled to and fro, she was tired of being under foot and in the way. The idea of returning to her room, closing the door and locking it, then curling up with Sio and absorbing everything in privacy was very much appealing to her. She was eager to meet with B'ach again though. The only time she'd really spoken to him was when she'd roused in New Cove from her healing slumber long enough to give him details. In memory of what had forced her to flee Black Sands in such a manner her hand rose to her cheek, gliding to her head. It still seemed such a miracle that she hadn't died in that incident. She was grateful. More so because it meant that Sio, sweet Sio, was alive and relatively well, and would someday see herself happy again. "Most of the questions I have will answer themselves, as they always do, through day-to-day life. It's easier and more effective for me to learn about my new home through my own senses and observations than to be listed off things which even the most vigilant will forget part of. She smiled vaguely and shrugged. She'd moved around enough in her life to know this to be a truth, and there was no sense bothering him with silly questions.

[Bacchante]

"Very well. I think he's in the middle of something, but the chambers are rather extensive and there'll be somewhere to sit, I'm sure." B'rac led the way out, bowing to Basionath as he did so. "Honored Silver, I swear to protect Yours to the very best of my ability while she is away." And then the Guard Captain moved on. His motions were not befitting his aged exterior. Like most warriors he seemed to glide in a cloud of his own energy, the easy motion contrasting his deeply lined face and white hair.

-Ghresath, if you would?- The Ghost rolled her eyes, lying as flat as she could while B'rac offered his hands as a step into the harness on the back. "Tie yourself on, ma'am. We travel vertically." Pulling himself into the main saddle with a surprisingly smooth motion, B'rac did up his own harness over both shoulders and around his waist. He did so more slowly than normal, so that his guest could see how to do it if the many ropes confused her in any way, but did not offer his direct assistance. He did not wish to imply she was invalid in any way.

When they arrived, the brown-eyed Ghostrider undid his straps with extreme haste, sliding down so as to offer his assistance once again in dismounting. It didn't matter that she probably didn't need it. B'rac was old, and a gentleman. It was, in his own mind at least, his duty. Once they were clear, Ghresath launched herself into the shaft to wait for them below and B'rac led the way in. They passed through an empty throne room, steps leading up to twin chairs carved from the white stone, and through a small office into a much larger chamber. A dull, irregular thwack, thwack sound was coming from it.

This chamber was large. Sand had been poured in the centre, making a large square. Torches were positioned at each corner, the only light in the room. Their dancing light illuminated the edges, including a sharp drop off past the makeshift training ground where a tremendous bulk sat watching the fighting with giant, swirling eyes. The Wraithqueen. She was not, however, the drawing attraction. That was in the center.

B'ach's scar attested to some deadly encounter in his past. So too did his aggressive manner, his powerful stance and his intense expression. But this seemed somewhat excessive. Four men were on the sand square, stripped down to loincloths. Three of them were bruised and breathing heavily, but still going strong. They looked toned enough, the easy muscle of a dragon rider. The fourth man was the Weyrleader.

Even as the two newcomers observed one of the men made a move, swinging a tight, crisp blow at his ruler. A flickering left knocked it aside and with a whistle of speed the follow up right left the man sprawled on ground. The torches and sweat made lights glisten and shimmer on the rider's skin, droplets exploding off of his arm as he struck, his drenched covering clinging to his body. One of the men from behind made a move but B'ach was ready, stepping backwards and under the clumsy blow. His elbow found the man's gut and dug in deep. As he doubled over his face met the elbow coming upwards and he spun around. Crimson flew through the air, spattering on the sand and over the rippling muscles on the Weyrleader's chest.

The final combatant was still standing, the other two having crawled free of the brawl. He circled around slowly, watching. B'ach merely stood there, stance relaxed, not following him. A rush of movement. He had charged, only to greet a foot that was happy to introduce itself to his jaw. He spun, sliding out of the ring. The victor's turned, following his progress, and spotted his father and Katya standing outside of the ring. He hastily lowered his leg and waved at an attendant on the side. As B'ach strode off the sand the man came forward with a bucket of water, which he dumped over the leader's head. A robe came next, wrapped around him despite him being drenched.

"Apologies." Despite the fight, his breathing was heavy yet regular."If you'll just step into my office, I shall be with you shortly."

B'rac resisted the urge to chortle as he led Katya, in silence, to the office: Pulling out her chair. "Two assassination attempts will do that to a man. He practices hand-to-hand combat every day. And, uh..." The elderly Captain moved to lean against the far wall and flashed Katya a conspiratorial look. "He, ah, takes after his old man." All that needed to be said was in the old lech's expression. 'Cept, o' course, the difference between him and me is that he's single. Just saying."

[Lyrikitty]

Basionath dipped her head in gratitude to the man as he promised to take good care of Katya. He seemed a nice enough fellow, and she had faith he wouldn't betray his word.

Katya followed B'rac out, to the Ghost, and mounted with his aide. Not that she needed it, she'd been paired with Basionath long enough to know how to get herself up ontp a dragon's back, but she wouldn't deny his help when he was making the effort to offer. She watched him closely as he strapped himself to the dragon, and she did the same. It was od for there to be so many ropes and all, but perhaps-

Oh.

Everything made sense the moment they started up, and Katya felt her stomach drop for a moment before she firmly put it back in it's place and set her jaw. She would not flinch in this, she was determined. She'd endured far worse than a slightly unnerving climb. It was over quickly enough anyway, and after she'd unfastened herself she dismounted, again accepting the offered help from B'rac. She rather liked him. He was a gentleman and he'd been friendly thus far, not at all impersonal and cold as she'd expected. In they went, and the scene awaiting her was an impressive one. She barely notticed the Wraith, her attention raptly on the men fighting before her.

She knew a little of combat, though she'd never been heavily trained in it. She was a tool of stealth, not brawn. Her jaw nearly dropped at this, and thankfully she managed to keep herself from letting that happen, casting a glance about to see if B'rac had noticed. It seemed not, though shortly the fight was done, and she got a good look at B'ach's figure. He wasn't the most handsome man alive, his features were a little too harsh, but he wasn't ugly. He was attractive in an exotic and powerful way, and she felt a slight blush rise on her cheeks as he came near, now dripping wet and wrapped in a robe. He directed them to go to his office, and she nodded mutely, following B'rac and settling into the chair.

B'rac's comment drew a sprinkle of laughter and erased her momentary unease. She smiled thankfully, and kept his words in mind as she waited silently for B'ach to join them.

[Bacchante]

B'rac smiled as Katya's apparent unease seemed to fade. "Look, miss... If you want to deal with my son just remember that since the age of five he was raised to believe his word was nothing short of divine mandate. He wants people who don't agree with his every word, and aren't intimidated by his... Well... You'll understand." The elderly man turned his head away from her, looking at the ceiling. Just in time, too, because mere moments after he was done, the Weyrleader of Skrull strode in.

He'd obviously washed up a bit. His skin was still wet, but less droplets and more of a slick shine. The smell of sweat no longer lingered in the air, not overly at least, and his hair was also soaked but brushed back. There was a wooden bucket in his hands. Calmly, he sat down and plunged his right fist into the bucket. B'ach's expression was apologetic, quite udnerstandable as although he had slipped into a pair of loose pants he still lacked a shirt. "Apologies, Katya. I was unaware of the exact time of your arrival and I used up all of my clean towels during my exercises."

From almost any other man, this would've seemed like a painfully transparent lie so that he could remain shirtless in the presence of a pretty woman. In this case, however, B'ach's rueful face and the earnest tone led some credence to the idea that he was, in fact, telling the truth. Which, surprisingly, he was. His normal routine was to have a few buckets of cold water poured over him and then air dry while warming down. Noting his father's perplexed expression as to the bucket of ice he chuckled. "I did too much of the right exercises, and I built up the muscles in my shoulder and back too much. Now it hurts my hand when I punch people. The ice brings down the swelling."

Smoothing out the things on his desk with the free hand, the green-eyed rider was all business. From the myriad of papers he selected a few choice ones and began to write things on them, doing surprisingly well with his left hand. "These are your papers. They're a formality mostly, sort of like a contract. You'll need to sign it. Normally it's in the Old Tongue, but I had one made for you in the modern language so you know what you're putting your mark to." He slid one of them over, having signed it himself in the indicated area at the bottom.

It was simple enough, just going over the terms B'ach had brought up at their first meeting. In exchange for whatever information she was willing to provide, Skrull Island Weyr would provide her with comfortable lodgings and its full protection until such a time as she chose to leave, or the war ended. "We like to have things in writing, here. Make no mistake, you are not a prisoner. You may come and go as you please from the Weyr to any of our Holds, and although I would appreciate if you would come and tell me before you leave the isle you are also welcome to do that."

There it was. With an open and honest smile B'ach had just declared that she had her total freedom despite being under protection here. "In any other case, this would be an extraordinarily trusting thing to do. After all, I cannot guarantee your information nor can I ensure you aren't truly a spy for Black Sands. Although I doubt that very much, given how you arrived at New Cove. However, if you wished to go and try sell information about us to Black Sands you are quite welcome to. Because the only information you could give that would let them beat us, the interior layout of this Weyr, would no longer be yours as soon as you left."

The smile on B'ach's face never left as he continued on, obviously quite chuffed with himself. "We don't know why... But the moment you leave the Weyr, your memory clouds. You forget exactly what it was like. Which means if they tried to Between in based on someone's memories, I estimate half of them would end up embedded in solid rock." Without stopping, he selected another sheaf of parchment which he slid over. This one was multiple leaves thick, with a hole punched in one corner and a string through that whole. This one was simple, the title written on it, "The Laws and Corollaries of Skrull" explained everything one needed to know.

"That's yours to leaf through at your leisure and this..." Another, similar booklet. It had strange symbols in the middle of it, above which was written, "The Elder Tongue of Skrull". "You might want that if you go to the library. Lots of the better scrolls are written in that language. You'll find a basic translation alphabet in the first phew pages, and then the rest of it is double lined with the rules about grammar and syntax and whatnot written at the top, then the same thing in the Old Tongue right below." He patted the table, looking for other things, but found nothing.

"Okay, looks like we're done!" B'ach grinned at her, and it was quite a winning smile. So far he'd been open and honest and calm and genial, as well as a tad apologetic. No displays of what B'rac had mysteriously referenced. Still grinning, the Wraithrider stood and offered his hand. "Welcome to Skrull, enjoy your stay. I would appreciate it if you would take dinner with me, so we could talk. I'd hate to take up the rest of your day. It is, after all, yours. Apart from that, you'll be expected to join in the fortnightly Thread drills with everyone else. Not like that's been a problem in living memory or anything, but tradition is tradition."

His handshake was firm and his gaze even. The grip of a truly dishonest man. Only thieves and tricksters had gazes that looks that level, hands that steady. Oh, and perfectly honorable and kind men but everyone knows that those are just a myth. "Oh, and by-the-by. I don't think you're a spy, in any way.' There was a change in the atmosphere. When B'ach stood up, as simple and innocent as he was being, his height was plainly obvious as being somewhat on the diminutive side. But now that was different. He was, obviously, exactly as tall as he had been before and yet...

There was something there. In his stance, the tensing of his muscles, the set of his jaw. Just this undeniable confidence. An absolute belief written into his entire body that he was right and you were not only wrong but it was unthinkable that you could question his correctness. It was leadership in a way most men could only dream of. Rileson ruled through bullying. D'myn, through outright terror. But B'ach's body simply declared that he was in charge and would brook no argument.

"There's no real way. I just don't want you to think I'm a fool, for allowing a potential enemy into my home. See, there is absolutely no danger to me in any way. Which meant I won. If you were being honest, which I feel you were, then I have a valuable informant. And if you were a spy or an assassin or something similar... Well, I would have had a slightly more recalcitrant informant."

The ominous moment was spoiled somewhat by B'rac flicking his son's ear with his free hand. "Cut that out, son. You don't need to pull that mystical leadership intimidation dragonshit. She's here to help us." B'ach at least had the decency to look sheepish. "I was? Uh... Sorry 'bout that Katya. So... Dinner tonight? My, heh, treat?"

[Lyrikitty]

She was confused, but said nothing about B'rac's advice. She didn't really have a chance to anyway, for at that moment B'ach strode in and seated himself. He was a short man, and this was the first thing that struck her. She wasnt sure if he had seemed so short in their first meeting, but that wasn't of importance. As he went on to explain everything to her, and pushed documents to her which were wanting her signature, she scanned them to check for anything which could later be detrimental to her. It wasn't that she was expecting him to try and pull one over on her, but it was habit. Trust none but Sio. End of story.

She rose as he did, and noted that he was giving off an imposing air. She merely quirked a brow. She was not a timid woman, nor was she one to throw herself at someone's feet just because they /seemed/ like they were in charge. It was a stupid reason to respect someone, and if she was going to respect this man it would be because of his choices and because he impressed her. She did, however, laugh when B'rac flicked B'ach's ear and scolded him for doing exactly what Katya had been assessing. "It's fine. I'm not easily cowed by a presence alone. I've been around long enough to know better." She gave a wry smirk and a playful wink. Her mind, however, was now on his proposal for dinner.

That seemed more than a little strange. It wasn't as if she had to pay for food in the Weyr, so why would he consider it his treat for her to eat? Unless of course, he was proposing something else entirely? This was... Possible. It fit, at least in a sense. She hadn't thought anything of the display of him fighting, or arriving with only a pair of leggings on. Now that she thought about it, se supposed it could have been planned out in an attempt to impress her or win her favor.Originally she had taken him at his word in that it was coincidence, he didn't seem the sort of man to try such a painfully obvious tactic. She'd have to keep an eye on him from here out and see what else he tried. Of course, it wasn't as if she were in any real position to spurn her new Weyrleader, when he was essentially the only thing keeping her and Sio alive.

"I'd be honoured to join you for dinner. Shall I wash up and then return here? Moving is such messy work and I feel a nice bath would brighten me up immensely. Besides, if I'm to dine with the Weyrleader I should look presentable, at the very least." She smiled, a charming expression on her lovely features in truth.

[Bacchante]

Apparently happy that she had agreed as such, B'ach nodded to his father who understood his instructions without words. In truth, only B'rac understood what was really going on and inside he was chortling about it. His son's viewpoint was totally innocent: He didn't want to deprive Katya of her daylight hours and so inteded to discuss matters with her over meals, when nothing productive would otherwise get done. But coupled with interesting coincidence and the boy's relative naiveté it gave an entirely different impression. His expression level, the Guard Captain led Katya from the room.

As soon as they were gone, the Weyrleader stood and strolled over to his room. Let's see... White robe, purple mantle. Suitably ceremonial, to be sure. But then that seemed to formal. What else... Oh, there was that one. It had been woven by his mother, from some silk that had been put in a shipment of supplies from one Weyr or the other. Long-sleeved, a nice light blue colour. Perfect. Now for some pants...

By that time, Ghresath and B'rac were already halfway down the Shaft with their cargo. Travelling downward was far faster but was equally more exciting. Or perhaps the word was terrifying. As they landed on the bottom and Katya was assisted in the dismount, the old man spoke to her. "If you wish, Basionath can come down here. We have a communal bath for men, one for women and several private baths for riders which are large enough to accomodate dragons as well. You've got plenty of time to get ready."

He finished his duty by escorting her to the entrance to the bathing pools and explaining that she could talk to the bath attendants for assistance. "And now that you've seen B'ach, your dragon may fly freely in the Shaft. She may deliver you to the Fifth Level, but may not stay there, unfortunately." With that dealt to he gave her a polite bow before heading back to Ghresath and his duties.

As soon as he was gone a young lady strode stepped out of the archway with a smile. "Honored Guest, I will be happy to assist you."

[Lyrikitty]

The next chunk of time passed in a blur. She was escorted out and taken down, informed Basionath would be able to take her through the Weyr as needed now that she'd met B'ach (thi came as a great relief, for Katya had no desire to be ferried about like this), and informed she could use any of the appropriate bathing pools she desired. She already knew which one she'd be using immediately, and she mentally called for her dear Silver to join her. With a grateful farewell to B'rac, Katya turned and started for the pools, only to be greeted by yet another person. It seemed this was a never-ending cycle. She'd put an end to that as quickly as she could.

With a bright smile, she shook her head at the woman. "Thank you, but all I need is a towel for myself. I've taken many a bath and so far I think I've done fairly well. I'm sure you've more important and insteresting things to do, anyhow." Sio had grabbed Katya's unpacked bag of clothing on her way and appeared gliding down from above moments later, said bag clutched gentley in her maw. She landed and looked at the woman who had offered to help Hers, blinking slowly twice, before turning her head to Katya nd exhaling deeply.

I miss the sun already.

Katya said nothing in response to this, only ushering the Silver into a private bathing pool and then stripping to join her. Most of the rest of their free time for the day was spent with Katya scrubbing Basionath and making the Silver groan and croon in sheer pleasure, until the Silver was as clean as she could possibly be. While Sio waded out of the water and carefully stretched out t dry, Katya washed herself up and dressed in a deep saphire tunic, belted with a glossy black strip of leather and paired with black leggings and boots. It was relatively simple, however the colors set off Katya's own natural beauty, her eyes sparkling to life and her hair seeming all the more luxurient, her skin seeming to all but glow with radiance. The same could be said for the Silver, with a good cleaning and having spent so much time now away from Black Sands, Basionath's original color was now shining through. The black taint which had stained her hide previously vanished to reveal the white-gold hide beneath, dappled at the flank with midnight hues.

They left the pools and returned to their room, Katya dropping ehr bag of clothing in the corner and sitting on the edge of her bed. "Now that your clean do you feel any better?"

Basionath had curled up in her own section of the room and was peering in at Katya quietly. I feel clean, if that is what you mean. I am sure I'll get used to this place just as quickly as you will.

The rest of their time was spent in companionable silence, with Katya familiarizing herself with every centimeter of her new habitate and Sio watching. When finally the time came for them to meet with B'ach again, Katya and Sio headed up, the Silver reluctantly leaving Hers on the fifth level and then returning to her own weyr. It seemed... Wrong to not be at the side of Katya, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Katya entered the place she'd only left a few hours ago, and stood, looking around as she waited for some sign of B'ach and hoping she hadn't misheard and come to the wrong place.

[Bacchante]

While Katya had been bathing, B'ach had been working in a frenzy to clear his evening schedule. All the parchmentwork had been completed, every appointment had been dealt to and nothing would get in the way of his dinner. It was rare that he ate with anyone besides his family once a week, as a way to keep in touch with them. As the Weyrleader he felt quite distant from his siblings. It was unfortunate. Although he had a rapport with his father, due to the latter's similar position of authority, he grew further and further from everyone else with each passing day.

"You're my only real friend nowadays, dearest." For her part, the behemoth rolled her eyes and knocked B'ach off his feet with a comforting nudge. <Oh Mine, you're far too hard on yourself. Soon the Wraithking will hatch and there'll be another. I can feel it.> The green-eyed man just sighed, continuing to set the table. That was exactly what he was afraid of. In the middle of the massive antechamber to his room, B'ach had set up a round stone table large enough for two: Dragged from his chambers. It was adorned with plates, cutlery and candles for light as the glowbaskets on the walls had all but faded out entirely.

The result was a pool of light in the middle of an otherwise black room. It reflected off of Zenith's pure white scales, causing her to glimmer faintly in the middle distance. She was over in her little depression, lying lazily on her back. Most of her day was spent doing as little as possible, to conserve energy. At times she envied smaller dragons, for their action-filled lives. But were she any other breed, she wouldn't have B'ach. He was nice, even if he acted strangely at times. With that long-sleeved silk shirt and light grey pants he looked a little odd to her. But then, what did she know about human fashions?

In his rooms, the Weyrleader was cooking with delicate haste. Most nights a meal was delivered to his desk and he ate it as he work. On him was the responsibility to oversee so many aspects of Skrull's existence. He had to design crop schedules, balance supply levels, come up with training routines, solve disputes and prepare for war. It kept him far too busy. At times he wished he could delegate to the Council, but he trusted a fair few of him. Thus it was nice to have a chance to do something for himself.

Out of all the Crafts, B'ach enjoyed cooking the most. It had been taught to him by his mother as he grew, because of the lack of Weyrwoman but also so that they could have something in common. He'd loved it because it hadn't been forced into his head, it was his choice. While it was still relaxing to do some engraving or whittling, he'd never been able to decide to learn those. Often he wondered why the traditions demanded the Weyrleader to know so many different skills.

This was his one passion, though. The fire crackled merrily as it heated the metal plate upon which he was cooking. He'd gone for variety, and had four different types of meat upon it, two cuts of each and every cut perhaps a quarter, maybe third, of a portion. While he kept an eye on them as they browned he sliced up some fresh vegetables, dug up that day. Time for those cuts to come off, drop them in that sauce, swirl them around, put it back on. He was so engrossed in his work he didn't realize Katya had wandered into the antechamber.

Zenith, however, did. Despite the shine on her scales, she was hard to see with only the few candles on the table in the middle. When she sensed the woman arrive she rolled herself over and as she came in she hauled herself over the lip of the dip in order to get a better look. <Greetings, Katya. B'ach is still preparing the meal. I doubt he will be much longer. There is wine upon the table, in the glass bottle, if you wish it. Don't open the clay one.>[/color] Calmly, the Wraithqueen announced the visitor's presence to B'ach.

He gave a little smile and slid the portions off the grill and on to two plates, four meats on each. He carried them out, both on the one arm with one balanced on his hand and the other on his elbow, with the salad in the other hand. "Hail! Perfect timing, I just finished preparing it." One plate went down in front of each seat, the salad in the middle. "Take as much greenery as you wish. I couldn't decide what to make for the meat so you have one portion of salmon with a nice egg sauce, one portion of chicken with a sort of sweet and sour sauce, one portion of pork with a rather smoky sauce and one portion of with mushroom and red wine sauce."

As if he was suddenly aware of how un-Weyrleaderish that sounded, B'ach scratched the back of his head woolbearerishly. "Uh... Because there was no Weyrwoman in sight when I was growing up my mother taught me to cook. Since it was one of the few crafts I know that wasn't forced into me, I rather enjoy it." He sat down and began to put salad on to his own plate using the ceramic spork. He laid his out artistically, putting it between the four portions arranged on the corners of the square plate.

That done, he left the spork there for Katya and took the wine, pouring wine into his own and then, like a good host, to Katya's. "There we are. I must admit, I had a slight ulterior motive in inviting you here. Normally I eat alone in my office, and with my family once awake. To the people of the Weyr... I'm their leader, you know? I've got nobody I can really relate to that well. I rather wanted to be able to have a real conversation for once. That in mind, how are you finding our Weyr so far? You and Basionath, of course."

[Lyrikitty]

((Salmon, chicken, and pork do not exist on Pern. o.o T'would be one of the various fishies that do exists on pern, wherry, and perhaps herdbeast or something of the like. -points to the list of fauna we have-))

Katya watched B'ach flourish of activities as Zenith explained to her, and made her way to the table, settling into a seat and folding her hands in her lap. As B'ach hailed her and her good timing she smiled. Delicious scents wafted to her and filled her nose, drawing a delighted sound from her. Whatever he was cooking, it smelled positively wonderful. His sheepish explanation of why he was cooking only made her smile, understanding better than most could what that was like.

Her life prior to Impression had been nothing but a carefully cultivated art she'd never genuinely wanted to take part in. It was for fear of her life she had started her wretched lifestyle, and later it was for fear of getting caught that she continued it faithfully. She'd been forced to learn many things in her life, and her skills were very likely as wide-spread as B'ach's.

"Well, it smells delicious, so I can only assume you've learned very well." It did cross her mind that the dinner seemed a little extravagent, as well as somewhat romantic. The varied types of meat, intimate table set for two and lit with candles did lend itself to something one would do to try and woe another. It brought her mind back to earlier in the day, the varied littl things which hinted at a romantic interest, and something in her stomache turned uneasily. She wondered what was to come from this evening.

"I can understand, perhaps better than I'd like to, how you feel. Isolation from the world around isn't very kind to most people. It gets unpleasently lonely." She filled her plate with a large portion of greens, and then took a sip of her wine. It was delightful, and her expression brightened visibley at this as she took another sip. It seemed Skrull was not shorted in tithes, that or B'ach dished out marks for good wine from the Vinter Hall. "Basionath and I are both doing well. I bathed her earlier, to make her feel a little more comfortable in her new home. Our room is most charming, are all rooms like that?"

[Bacchante]

The happy smile that B'ach now displayed lit his entire face. He knew that his, perhaps somewhat over the top, preparations would be worth it. It wasn't often he got to talk to someone who wasn't instantly fawning over him. At times he felt it was a little ridiculous. He'd just been a stupid kid that had wandered into somewhere he shouldn't have been. How did that make him special? Ignoring the bubble of amusement coming from Zenith, he sipped his own wine. Not bad at all.

The Master Vinter over in Skrull Coast Hold insisted on sending a sample of his best work every time a tithe was due. B'ach normally passed it downward, not wanting the generosity. This had been the only bottle he'd saved for himself. "They are similar. Ghostriders get somewhat sparser quarters, but they tend to decorate theirs. There are also a certain number of larger quarters for those with families, but we keep them on the First Level so there is no risk of children wandering into the Shaft." He was glad to learn that she had enjoyed the baths. According to legend, the natural hot springs was one of the reasons the Weyr was formed here.

"The Master Technician assures me he is on the brink of finding a way to get hot water even all the way up to the Fifth Level. But, given that he was, until a few months ago, on the brink of completing and I quote 'a dragon-less flying device' I feel it is best not to hold one's breath." Slicing off a mouthful of meat, the Weyrleader tasted his own food. It was passable, at least to him. Despite his resentment of the things he'd been taught, there was still a bit of perfectionism in him.

Thinking of Katya's dragon, and the darkness surrounding them, he was reminded to tell her about the Gate. "If you want to leave the Weyr at any time, feel free to do so. It's perfectly safe to go through Between to leave, but do come back in through the Gate. It would be a waste if you were to be sealed in stone."

[Lyrikitty]

She chuckled as he spoke of a dragonless flying device. It was ridiculous to even imagine such a thing. However, when he mentioned them being able to Between out of the Weyr whenever they wanted, though it was safest to return through the Gate, she arched a brow. She was no young weyrling who knew not the dangers of trying to appear in a place so encased in stone as Skrull, nor was her dragon one born on Black Sands and tainted with the pale hide of a Misery, who in their later turns could perform such a dangerous task with relative ease.

Nor would she ever risk the life of her beloved Silver. She had already done Basionath enough damage by the Turns spent in Black Sands. A hint of her irritation at the implications made her eyes darken, though she nodded slowly. "Of course. Losing an informant is always a waste. It is why Black Sands was so eager to have me return despite Impressing a Silver. Information is invaluable in times of unrest, and the bearers of information are held above even the most powerful of weapons at times." Her voice was vaguely bitter, and her first few bites of food were soured by her mood.

She disliked thinking of herself as a tool, something to be used as was needed and discarded when outdated. What she wanted from life was a home, was acceptance and affection based on her as a person, as a rider, not as a source or tool. If that was how B'ach was going to see ehr, she would remain here only for as long as he had use for her. There was bound to be a Weyr on Pern which would want a damaged Silver and rider who were both still perfectly functional. With a mental sigh and a reassuring wave of affection from Basionath Katya was able to actually taste her next bite of food, and she blinked in mild surprise. It wasn't bad at all, in fact it was rather tasty. "This is good, B'ach." She chewed slowly to enjoy the flavour fully, following it with a sip of wine. "Now, there must have been more reason for wanting me here than just to keep you company. Surely would would have rather brought in your wraithking candidate or your father?" She assumed the girl (she couldn't for the life of her remember the name) who was brought here to stand for the Wraithking egg would be on B'ach's list of people to get to know very well.

It was Katya's understanding that if said girl did Impress the intended beast that she'd be the Weyrwoman of Skrull, and as such B'ach would be spending a lot of time with her. A potential mate seemed a more likely companion than a Silverrider of no rank and only importance in stategy. It was a sly and subtle way to pry about and see if B'ach had anything in mind with the setting and meal as she'd been suspicious of when she'd entered.

[Bacchante]

The Wyerleader cocked an eyebrow at Katya's apparent bitterness. It seemed she had misunderstood him. "Forgive me, I did not intend insult. If you will recall, my terms were that you may stay as long as you wish in exchange for whatever information you are comfortable giving. It is not my intention to use and discard you. The root of all evil deeds comes from thinking of people as things." And, in fact, he had not meant to insult her capabilities. It was simply that once she left the Weyr she would not be able to remember the interior. He even said as much to her.

"Or, if you remembered, it would not be correct. Through no fault of your own, understand." Taking a few more bites of his own meal, he mulled over the other question. Was she right? Did he have other reasons? "My father is... A good man. But it is not easy to discuss things with him. Besides, he's busy with my mother and siblings." There was a faint trace of regret in that statement, a sense of loss and longing. Raised as he had been, so unusually, B'ach never had the chance to get to know the rest of his family.

Then there was Riki. "There are an awfully large number of Wraithking candidates. Most of him are like vultures eyeing a fresh hunk of meat. It seems they think they can bypass the central requirement of Impressing the Wratihking by simply 'impressing' me." A snort and rolled eyes at this foolish delusion. Ignoring the fact that he was secretly terrified of the green-minded girls. "There is one, who is not like that. However our relationship is soured by a few disagreements over whether or not I should decapitate her evil father and the fact that if she Impresses the Wratih we will be essentially forced into being mates. Ever have the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman grown up alongside one another and been trained together. No provisions are in place for any different situation."

It may have been hard to see, but in the dim light the young leader's face was tinged red. He sipped a bit more liquid courage, it really was an excellent wine, and avoided meeting Katya's gaze. "Really, I just wanted someone I could talk to. With the arrangement we have come to, as I see it at least, you owe me no more debts. That places us on a level enough field to have a real conversation. I don't have many friends, Katya. I'm pretty sure this is actually the longest conversation I've ever had with a woman who was not related to me. Perhaps you've noticed, but my experience with interacting with the opposite gender is somewhat... Sub-par."

[Lyrikitty]

She mulled over what he said thoughtfully. His reasons seemed legitimate enough. She hadn't intended to sound as harsh as she apparently did, as Katya recognized the apology in his tone and words as genuine and startled by her reaction. The predictamint that B'ach was in as understandable, if vaguely amusing. It seemed he really didn't have much experience with women, or he wouldn't be fumbling so badly when trying to talk to someone on a purely friend basis.

"No worries. I am perhaps a shade more touchy about certain things than I should be. Sooner or later I'm going to have to accept that not everyone in the world is as messed up as I." She offered a vague smirk which indicated she was at least half-joking before continuing. "Anyway... For someone who doesn't know much about gender interactions, you're terribly good at setting a romantic scene. Frankly, when I first came in I was a little concerned you had something planned beyond what I was told."

She was trying to help, but her frank manner would likely make it hard to recognize this. The gentle tone she used wouldn't help either, if anything it might lead one to think she'd hoped he intended for something more. She'd used the tone with the intent of making her comment seem less hurtful and more helpful, utterly unaware of how it could be mistaken. Nor did she consider the sly look which flickered through her eyes as she took a sip of wine after speaking, and the light playing over her fair features delicately. She was a lovely woman by any standards, after all, just sometimes she forgot this fact in light of her past, and the treatment she'd received in hands to brutal for her to survive under.