Chasing A Legacy [Renaria]

[Zen]

Turn 2761, 3rd Month

Morning meals were ever an adult affair. The many children in the family were left to sleep in, with nursemaids who would keep watch over them and see them fed when they woke. It was a time when Lady Zinara held court over her family, when news brought to her and her husband that day could be shared and opinions given and plans made. Her days tended to be quite busy, but the morning meal was reserved for family.

“It seems Mavros is planning to vote for a Lord of the Blood come turn’s end,” the Lady announced, glancing across the table to her husband.

Renaria looked up from her food and toward her mother, “Vote? They’re going to choose their own Lord?” Her gaze flicked to her father, “Will the other Lords accept that?”

Frewind made a thoughtful noise as he finished a bite of food, and everyone at the table waited to hear what he might have to say on the matter, “Hard to say. Some will be staunchly against it for certain, but it depends who wins… all he needs is a majority in Conclave to be confirmed, no matter the naysayers that remain. I think the majority would prefer to see a Lord of the Blood in charge of things over there. This voting nonsense has gone on quite long enough.” He waved his hand, dismissive of the practice.

Rena did not miss the glances between her two youngest brothers, but it was Rezarand that spoke, “And any Blooded man might go to stake a claim?”

Zinara laughed softly, her sons’ intentions quite clear, “Unfortunately for you, Mavros has extended invitation only to Southern sons.”

Indignant, Arafrend blurted, “What? Why? That’s hardly fair.”

Zinara sighed, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, “You sound like a petulant child.” Arafrend’s face reddened with embarrassment at the admonishment and Rena did her best to stifle a laugh, but didn’t quite manage it.

“No one asked your opinion, Rena,” Arafrend snapped at her.

“Did I give one?” Rena grinned.

“Enough, if you wish to remain at this table,” Zinara ended the argument before it could escalate.

“Apologies, mother,” Rena and her brother both murmured at once, though Arafrend tossed another annoyed look at his sister.

Zinara continued as if the little interruption hadn’t happened, “Mavros appears to be playing politics with the Southern Continent. I’m sure you’re all aware how unprepared their Weyrs were for the return of Thread. It bred resentment among the Holds. I’d say Mavros is preying upon those feelings to build easy alliances.”

Arafrend was insistent, “But they could just as easily form alliances in the north if they just-”

Frewind interrupted his son, “And why would we split our loyalties? Our Weyrs did their duty. We’ve no need to send our children to some struggling unsanctioned Weyr. Weyrhold. Whatever they’re calling it.”

Zinara frowned at Arafrend, studying him for a moment, and Arafrend grew uncomfortable under his mother’s scrutiny, taking a few bites of food by way of distraction from her heavy gaze, “That is twice now you’ve spoken impulsively. What have I told you?”

Arafrend stiffened, swallowing his food and looking a bit sheepish, “Words once spoken cannot be unspoken.” Renaria said it along with him in her head, as she was sure most of her siblings did. It was her mother’s favorite scolding when one of them spoke without thinking and had been used on all of them quite a lot over the turns.

Zinara gave a brief nod, “Rule your tongue, do not let it rule you. If you don’t wish to be laughed at then quit making a fool of yourself for everyone’s amusement. Take responsibility for your own lack of forethought.”

Arafrend fell silent after that, focused on his meal, and Renaria did better to stifle her laughter. One lesson their mother really drilled home in all of them was not to speak thoughtlessly. Just because one has a thought does not mean it needs to be voiced. It was the height of childishness to say whatever happened to come to mind at a given moment. Zinara expected forethought and eloquence from her children. Arafrend’s protests were little more than whining.

Her eldest brother continued the conversation, “Do we know which men are vying for the vote?”

Zinara shook her head, easily turning her attention back to the matter at hand, “Not yet. It is too early, we’ve only just heard the news that it’s happening at all. We shall certainly be keeping our ears open, however.”

Frezindar made a thoughtful sound, “Is there any speculation?”

Their father was the one who answered, with a short laugh, “I’d bet marks on Porrinsen’s second son. That boy doesn’t know when to quit.”

“Mm,” Zinara gave a sound of assent to that, “Other than Dirinsin, who knows. Grandsons and nephews of Lords are likely to vie for it. We shall have to see who turns up at Mavros in a few months.”

Mavros. Renaria thought about it as the conversation flowed between her family. She didn’t know much about it. It was an unsanctioned Weyr, as her father had said. The Council of Weyrleaders had not decided to found it and there’d been no discussion with the Lords about just which Holds would tithe to it, some rogue riders from Tidewalk had simply gone and done it without seeking permission. But apparently it was more of a Weyrhold? Like Mirran? Which she admittedly also knew little about. Mirran was rather insular and didn’t often invite outsiders to visit, nor would any of her family particularly have reason to visit anyway. But if Mavros was a Weyrhold what did that mean for the Lord exactly? Mavros already had a Weyrwoman and a Weyrleader… would a Lord have to work alongside them? Would he be on equal footing? She finished her meal in thoughtful silence, determined to learn more about Mavros.

~~~

Tuilora was a daughter of the Masterharper and had been a close friend of Renaria’s since they were quite young. Tui had pursued the path of a harper herself and had been a journeyman for several turns. Rena walked with her friend through the Harper Hall, appreciating the various sounds of so many practicing musicians as they made a steady loop.

“Mavros, you said?” Tuilora had a sort of conspiratorial look on her face at the mention of the Weyrhold.

Renaria leaned closer, “What do you know? Has there been some news in regards to their election?”

Tui waved her hand, “Nothing that hasn’t already been passed on to your mother. But my father wants to send someone with a sharper wit to keep an eye on events as they unfold… I’ve been considering trying to convince him to send me.”

“A sharper wit? Than who?” though the prospect of having her best friend at Mavros had Rena quite excited, she was confused just what she meant with that statement.

Tui scoffed, “Master Clintock, of course. Where music and archiving are concerned the man is plenty impressive but there’s little else going on in that old head. He’s the Weyrharper at Mavros. His reports are so dry and I’m quite sure he’s leaving out important details simply because he’s too blind to see them.”

“But would your father send you? Wouldn’t he prefer a master?” Rena’s brow furrowed slightly, concerned that it may be out of reach for her friend.

“No, I don’t think so. He just needs someone he trusts, and he certainly trusts me. Besides, masters tend to be too self absorbed,” she murmured the last with a soft giggle, “And they’ve far more responsibility here, teaching. There aren’t many masters free to go, and even if they wanted to, I don’t think any of them would be better suited than I am. And a master draws more attention, it would be far easier for a journeyman to be discreet.”

“You must go,” Rena insisted, unsure if her friend was speaking true or if she wasn’t being a bit arrogant, however her reasoning did make some sense and she was quite set on the idea, “I would surely miss your company, but you’d be in such a unique position… and I could really use an ally at Mavros.”

Tui laughed, “An ally? Eyes and ears I think you mean.”

“Well yes, but is that not still an ally?” Rena waved her hand, dismissive, “I want to know more about it. And about the men who will be vying for the Lordship.”

“It’s too bad women aren’t invited to try,” Tui remarked with some annoyance, “I bet you could do it.”

Rena laughed, “The crafts may be advancing where women are concerned but Hold politics are rarely a welcome place for women. As frustrating as it is, there’s nothing I can do to change how things are… all I can do is work within my limitations.”

“Why are you so interested in Mavros then? You can’t claim it for your own, but what? You can claim the man who claims it?” Tui waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner and Rena laughed and shook her head.

“Tui, stop that…,” the other woman laughed as well, before Rena continued, “But I suppose if you get right down to it… yes. You know I want to make my mark.” A determined sort of look passed over her features, “I will not be remembered as a mere number, the nameless 11th child of Lady Zinara who did nothing of her own worth mentioning. My mother will be remembered, Tui, when Ladies rarely seem to be remembered. If I became the very first Lady of Mavros, the mother of the Mavrosi bloodline? How could anyone forget me?” She sighed, looked at her friend seriously, “There is very little way for a Lady to make her mark on the world without the assistance of a man. I have been waiting… biding my time for just this moment. I can feel it. My mother expects us all to contribute to growing the bloodline, and all my brothers and sisters are married and have children already… I’m the last one to contribute.”

Her bluerider brother didn’t count. For all she knew he had a few children running about Fort Weyr too, but such things were more difficult to track for a rider, from what she understood. Anyway it mattered little, as a rider her brother had rather removed himself from the bloodline. Riders held no titles or lands, didn’t even marry if she remembered correctly. She hadn’t spent too much time learning the intimate details of the lives of dragonriders… she’d never really thought it would be relevant to her. But if Mavros was a Weyrhold, perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to learn? She could write her brother, hope he might be willing to start up a correspondence with her.

Tui’s sigh pulled her from those thoughts, “Your mother sure is obsessed with you all having children.”

“But you know why… the Fort bloodline very nearly died out before she had her children. She just wants to give her family a secure future,” Rena defended her mother’s rather zealous insistence on her children procreating as much as possible.

“Pff… what, and forty-some grandchildren hasn’t made it secure enough? Surely you can get away with putting off having children, Rena,” Tui insisted.

“And be the only one that disappoints her?” Rena held her mother in the highest regard, disappointing her was out of the question. She had already delayed marrying longer than most of her siblings had, and most of them had even either had a child, or had one on the way by her age. She knew her mother was already doubting her commitment to contributing to furthering their bloodline. It was the only real expectation her mother had for them. But if Rena was going to stand out, if she was going to be more than a footnote in her mother’s history, she couldn’t just do what all her siblings did. She couldn’t even settle for marrying a Lord’s heir, which was the most her sisters had ever hoped for and only one of them had managed.

She had waited so long because she needed to find a very specific sort of man. A man who was making his own mark on Pern. There were Lords and there were history makers. If she became Lady to a Lord who did little of consequence in the grand scheme of things, she would only add herself as a footnote in his history as well as her mother’s. But Mavros presented a unique opportunity. It would be the first time a Hold had ever voted in their own Lord, and he would be the very first Lord of Mavros. If she could play a part in that history she was sure she would be immortalized alongside him. It would be important to have plenty of children as well, to secure their new bloodline at Mavros. It coincided perfectly, she could make her mother happy and accomplish her own goals all at once.

“I’ll never understand you nobles and your bloodlines,” Tui teased lightly, “Anyway, what will you do if the man that wins is already married?”

Rena sighed again at that, “There wouldn’t be much I could do… I would have to figure something else out.” Though what might await her if Mavros was off the table, she didn’t know. She very well might have to settle if she didn’t want to disappoint her mother. She had passed over the opportunities presented by the Lords of Solstin and Jask when they were still bachelors. Solstin was a newly raised Major Hold, she very well could have been the mother of the Solstin bloodline. It could have been enough, possibly, but she still found the idea lacking. There was a yearning in her for something… more, something different. As for Jask, well… she could admit to a fear of whers, and she knew Lord Degranik was bonded to one. It would have strained their marriage, she was sure. Somehow the idea of Mavros had captured her like nothing else had. She didn’t think she would ever have another chance like this. Whichever man won the Lordship, he would be the first Lord ever voted in by his own people, and she was sure if the Lords of Pern had anything to do with it, he would be the last as well.

Tui leaned in a bit, conspiratorial once more, “You know, my brother Rilotar has had eyes for you for turns.”

“Tui,” Rena laughed, glancing around as if the young man in question might appear at any moment.

“He has designs on following my father, you know. I think he actually has a decent chance. Or is being the wife of the Masterharper of Pern not good enough for you?” Tui was teasing her again.

Rena couldn’t help rolling her eyes, “He’s not the Masterharper yet. And there’s no guarantee he ever will be.”

Tui giggled, “So it’s not good enough.”

“I did not say that!” Rena huffed, only for Tui to giggle again. She tried to turn the conversation back to more important matters and away from further teasing, “You will try to go, won’t you? I would owe you, Tui.”

“It could be interesting,” Tui agreed thoughtfully, “There are a lot of rumors out of Mavros… I’d like to see the truth myself.” She shrugged, “I can’t promise anything. It is my father’s decision who to send, in the end, but I will make it clear I’d like to go and we’ll see what happens. Maybe I could go anyway.”

“I hope so… it really would be ideal,” Rena mused, “Though I would most certainly miss our chats while you’re away. Good conversation partners are so hard to find.”

Tui laughed, “At least we can write.”

Rena laughed as well, “At least.”

~~~

Letters came regularly after Tuilora had arrived at Mavros. It was fortunate her friend had her own firelizard, and a well trained one at that. It made their correspondence quick and easy, though it tended toward one-sided as Rena rarely had anything of interest to send back for all the information that Tui was sending to her. It seemed Mavros was quite a dismal place. The Hold, as Tui described it, seemed rather neglected, which made sense if it had no Lord to manage it properly. Instead of a Lord the holders had been voting every turn for a ‘Holder Elect’, apparently, who headed a sort of council which consisted of several master crafters as well. It was quite strange. It seemed to Renaria that the Hold survived by the grace of the Weyr alone from Tui’s descriptions.

She wondered how she would manage if she ended up moving to Mavros, if she accomplished her goal and was able to marry the new Mavrosi Lord. Fort was the oldest Hold on Pern, constructed by methods that had been lost to them for centuries, filled with art and opulence, and everyone knew the best cooks and bakers came out of Fort. Fort’s luxury was all she knew. Mavros sounded so… stark in comparison, gray and barren. Realistically, if it was ever to come close to rivaling Fort, it was unlikely to be in her lifetime. The Interval would free up time and resources to build and expand Mavros in ways that were simply irresponsible during a Pass, and she would be an old woman then. She would have to decide if she was willing to give up luxury in exchange for a legacy that would outlive her. Her possible future husband would begin the process, her possible future sons would see it through, and her possible future grandsons would enjoy the fruit of their forefathers’ labor, and if they had any sense, continue to build upon all they were so fortunate to inherit.

She sighed as she read over Tui’s most recent letter again. She seemed confident that the last man had arrived at Mavros, that the pool of possible Lords was set. Three were bachelors, three were not. They were decent odds, for her part. Her father had been right about Dirinsin, but he mattered little to Renaria since he was married. It was odd that Cove had three men in the race, but two of them were unwed and they interested her a deal more. Asirikai had arrived with his brother, the youngest son of Lord Porrinsen. Tui had written to her first of them, as they’d been the first to arrive. The others had followed soon enough, with another married man being the last to arrive. Podrell was a grandson of Lord Porrinsen, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Dirinsin and Asirikai didn’t have a better chance, a better claim, as the sons of a Lord. The perception of the people would be important in an election, she imagined, and it would make sense to favor sons over grandsons. The third bachelor, Orintek, was the nephew of the Lord of Southern, which in Renaria’s mind placed him on about the same level as Podrell in the eye of public perception. It wasn’t all that mattered, she knew little of the men beyond their relations to Lords. Surely they wouldn’t have gone to Mavros if they didn’t imagine they had a chance to win. Or perhaps they were just hopeless dreamers unwilling to face reality. It was hard to say.

She needed to know more about them. Tui had some small insights, but she wasn’t wasting too much time writing to her about them because only the man that won would matter in the end. By Tui’s estimation Asirikai was confident and seemed to draw people in, but his confidence edged into arrogance; Podrell was charming and easygoing but hard to pin down, he seemed to say whatever he thought people wanted to hear at the moment; and Orintek was kind and more humble than the other two, but seemed to lack a certain resolve. From her friend’s sparse details alone Rena wasn’t sure which man she might prefer. Of course Tui had also been sure to include that they were all three quite attractive. Rena was glad she was the only one reading these letters. Her preferences hardly mattered anyway… whichever man won would be her only option. Best she didn’t get too attached to the idea of one or the other.

[Zen]

Turn 2761, 11th Month

The day before her 20th nameday, her mother invited her on a walk, which really meant a private interrogation. The two women walked in silence for a time, Rena with her hands folded in front of her to keep from fidgeting as she waited for her mother to begin her questioning. She was quite confident she knew exactly what it would be about, and was proven right.

“You’ve nearly 20 turns to your name, my dear… I can’t help but worry about just what you plan to do with your life,” her mother began at last, her tone a careful neutral, but Renaria still plainly heard the disappointment she was masking, “You sought no craft and you are as yet unwed. What are you waiting for, Renaria?”

She drew in a careful, steadying breath. Her mother was an intimidating woman one on one. She looked up to meet her mother’s scrutinizing gaze as confidently as she could muster. “A legacy,” she replied firmly, “I may soon have it. The chance I’ve been waiting for is so close to reality….” She fought not to look away, to show uncertainty, weakness, “I’m waiting on the election at Mavros, mother.”

If Lady Zinara was surprised, she did well to hide it. Her mother always had been a master of her emotions. Renaria admired that perhaps most of all. She did her best to emulate it, but often found herself lacking the same control. They walked in silence for a few moments, Renaria feeling tense as she waited for her mother’s judgment on the matter. “So your plan is to become the new Mavrosi Lady.” It was not a question and Renaria did not feel the need to confirm it. “And what if a married man wins out? What then?”

Her mother’s gaze narrowed in the slightest and Renaria knew she didn’t have a good enough answer for that question. All her hopes were riding on the Mavros election, that a bachelor would win, that she would be able to win him over and become his Lady. She had no good backup plan. So the only thing she could do was to be honest, “I don’t know. I have been waiting so long for a chance like this… it is likely the only one I’ll have.”

“If you wish to be a Lady we could very well find you an heir to marry,” Zinara offered, “You have kept your wishes too close to your chest, my dear. Lord Hallenfar of Igen’s heir is yet unmarried. He is of an age with you. Lord Undredon of Tillek’s heir is only a few turns older and remains a bachelor. Why did you leave this so long?”

“I do not wish to simply be a Lady, mother,” she explained, “I wish to be part of something more. I do not want the most remarkable thing I’m associated with to be the fact that I was your 11th child. I want something of my own. You will be remembered as a remarkable Lady, mother… I want to be remembered as well. Sons following their fathers into Lordship is hardly anything remarkable. But being elected by your own people? Being the first Lord of a new Hold, a Weyrhold at that, the start of a new bloodline… that will be remembered. And I could be part of that. The mother of a brand new bloodline. You’ve taught me the importance of growing one’s bloodline, mother. I have not forgotten. It would never be more important than in beginning a new bloodline altogether.”

A soft laugh escaped her mother’s lips, “Who knew you had such lofty goals?” She studied her daughter quietly for a moment, “You are my last born… I understand your desire to stand out. However, it is unwise to place all your dreams in one place.” A small frown pulled at her lips briefly and was gone again, “Your father and I will assist you in this endeavor of yours in any way that we can, should it indeed become a possibility come turn’s end. But we must discuss what you will do if the chance passes you by. There are married men in the running who may yet win out. And even if one of the bachelors wins, there is no guarantee he will choose you for his Lady.”

“I know, mother… I…,” she knew it was unwise to put all her eggs in one basket, as it were, but she wasn’t willing to let the hope go until it was clear there was none left. She straightened a bit, meeting her mother’s eyes confidently, “I know there is every chance it will not work out the way I wish, but I will hold to this plan until it either succeeds or fails. Should it slip through my fingers then… then I will entertain whatever match you and father see fit to pursue for me.” It would be a difficult thing, to settle for less than what she really wanted, but she was quite sure Mavros held her only chance and she would have little recourse but to resign herself to being a footnote in the history of others if that chance slipped away. She could at least be useful to her family, in the end.

Three of her sisters had married Fortian men, for love, giving their mother what she wanted most in grandchildren, family that would remain at Fort more than likely, but Renaria wasn’t sentimental. She had never entertained romantic notions of falling madly in love one day. Her mother and father did not have a passionate romance and it worked just fine for them. They worked well together, cared well enough for each other, and seemed plenty content in their marriage. Her mother had once told her that their shared love for their shared children had strengthened the love they had for each other, and Renaria was satisfied enough with that possibility, if her marriage could also benefit her family in some way. At least she could do that much. She did wish to be a Lady, if nothing else. It would be a terrible waste not to put all her mother had taught her to good use. If her mother had two young heirs in mind already as possibilities for her, then she would let her and her father decide which union would benefit Fort most. Hopefully they would still be options after turn’s end, if things didn’t go her way.

“Then I suppose we have a tentative plan,” Zinara agreed, appearing satisfied with that answer, “I shall keep you apprised of any developments at Mavros that reach my ears, and come turn’s end we shall see if we can move forward with your plan, or if we must revisit the prospect of heirs.” She once more took to studying her daughter quietly, “I do not know what sort of life you would lead at Mavros. Marrying a northern heir would ensure you a lifestyle with which you are accustomed.”

Tillek and Igen were not as opulent as Fort, Renaria had visited both, but she imagined they were a deal closer to what she was used to than Mavros would be. She had never wanted for anything in her life, any comfort, any luxury, they were all so easily obtained should she only request it. From Tui’s descriptions of Mavros, she would find little comfort there, and what would be considered luxury at Mavros would be far below her normal standards of living. It would be an adjustment, she had no doubt about that… but perhaps it would work in her favor, in the end. How many young ladies would want to live in such conditions? How many fathers would want to send their daughters to such a place for the sake of an alliance with a Hold that currently had very little political value? After a moment of thoughtful silence, she looked up at her mother, “If an easy life was my goal, I would find myself a local man to marry and stay right where I am.”

The smallest of smiles quirked her mother’s lips at that, “Well said. It seems you are indeed serious about this…. Well, let us hope a bachelor wins over the Mavrosi people, and come next turn we will see what we can do to bring this plan of yours to fruition.” She cast an appraising eye over her daughter, “You are young and beautiful, well-mannered, with a distinguished bloodline, you should be able to win over any young man easily enough.”

She felt a blush heating her face inexplicably. Her mother did not lavish compliments easily. She gave a short laugh, glancing away, “I don’t know about well-mannered.”

“Mm, well you know how to be,” Zinara amended with some amusement, “And you know what I’ve always told you and your sisters about the preferences of men. Particularly men in positions of authority.”

Renaria sighed, remembering feeling some annoyance about that lesson initially, but her mother had been proven right more often than not in her interactions with young blooded men from other families. Most of them did not have much appreciation for intelligent women who spoke their mind. But her mother had taught her and her sisters how to share their opinions in less obtrusive ways as well, placing a high emphasis on tact and eloquence where communication was concerned. An abrasive woman was not welcome in any conversation. If they wanted to be heard, they had to take a milder approach. It had been a grating lesson to learn, but she had learned it. She could tone herself down when it was required, though she certainly would prefer it not to be the case with a possible future husband. Her brows pulled together slightly, “Are you suggesting I lie about who I am to the man I might marry?”

Another soft laugh escaped her mother, “I am suggesting nothing, my dear. It is entirely up to you just how far you’re willing to go to secure the future you want for yourself. I like to think I have given you all the tools you need, but you’re the one that must choose the right tool for the job.”

It still sounded mildly like a suggestion to Renaria. They walked in silence for a few moments as she considered that, before she looked to her mother once more, “Would you?”

“I was always honest with your father about who I was,” she replied easily, “But my position as Lady of Fort was secure. I had little to lose. If your father had not accepted me as I was I could have just as easily found a man who would.” She paused briefly, then added, “But I always play the role I must in order to get the result I desire, even if that role is hardly palatable at times. We are women, Renaria, and we are not allowed the same freedoms as men in politics. We must make do. You must decide for yourself the path you wish to take to get where you wish to be. There are many roads you could choose, some are easier than others, some require compromises that you must decide if you can stomach or not, but only you can determine which road is the correct one for you.”

It was Renaria’s turn to allow a small laugh of her own, “The freedom to choose is quite burdensome.”

Zinara added her laugh to her daughter’s, “You could just as well give up now and simply let your father and I find you a proper match if the burden is too much to bear.”

“I should think you know the answer to that, mother,” she replied dryly.

Zinara chuckled, “I would like to think I did not raise children who would give up so easily.”

“Not this child, at least,” she agreed wryly.

“That sounds like an insinuation.”

Renaria offered her most innocent smile, “I would simply never presume to speak for my siblings, mother.” Though she herself might have considered the paths a few of her sisters had chosen to be ‘giving up’ in a sense, she couldn’t say how her sisters saw it. Perhaps they had gotten exactly what they wanted. If that was the case they lacked ambition, but it only made it easier for Renaria to stand out from them somehow. In any case, she considered them somewhat selfish, as their marriages could have been used to further alliances, strengthen ties outside of Fort. There was something to be said for strengthening ties within Fort, she supposed, and her brothers had all married blooded daughters from other Holds, so there was no real lack of connection just because three of her sisters had married Fortian men instead. It still seemed like something of a waste to Renaria, but her mother had given them all the freedom to choose, to not be used as political pawns. But a pawn could become a Lady in chess, if she was clever enough to survive to reach the other side of the board, and the Lady was the most powerful piece. Anyone who thought otherwise had never met her mother.

Zinara sighed and shook her head, “I suppose I shall never understand the relationships of siblings.” She let the matter drop then, “Well, I think we have accomplished all we can for one conversation. Do enjoy the gather tomorrow.” Zinara had always organized a gather for her children’s namedays, so long as Thread allowed in recent turns, at least.

“I’m sure I will, thank you mother,” she offered a curtsy in farewell as her mother turned to leave, and once she was alone began to consider just what road she might take to her future.

[Zen]

Turn 2762, 1st Month

Turn’s End came and so did the long awaited letter from Tui proclaiming that Lord Asirikai had won the election, and by no small amount either. Renaria remembered everything her friend had ever written about each of the three bachelors in the race, though it had fallen to two only days before the vote when Podrell had suddenly withdrawn himself as a contender to accept Search instead. It had been a frustrating moment, lowering her own chances, though Tui seemed to think that Asirikai was the likely winner even before that. She had made it clear that he was strongly favored among the fisher population, which held the most votes.

Seeing him as the strongest contender, Tui had started writing more about him in her letters, assuring her several times that she would not be left wanting once she saw him. She always shook her head when she read those, as if what he looked like mattered in the least. In this letter her friend included quite a detailed description of him, and even a small sketch of his face at the top of the letter, for she was a decently skilled portraitist. Well… she hadn’t been lying, though from her embellished description of him she couldn’t be certain if her friend was exaggerating things or not. She tried not to dwell on it, though she found her gaze drawn to the image of him more than once as she continued reading. Eventually she huffed and placed her thumb over it so she would stop getting distracted, having read the same sentence four times.

Tui was quite a skilled information gatherer as well. Asirikai had a sailing background, had been captain of a fishing vessel, and didn’t seem to get along with his brother Dirinsin (though she admitted that perhaps it was simply rivalry over the Lordship, as no one was really going to ask him about such a personal detail). He was a straightforward man and had been incredibly open with the people of Mavros, surprisingly personable considering her first estimation of him as arrogant. Well, in Rena’s experience, blooded men did tend toward cockiness, but it did not always make them unlikeable. It could just as well be read as confidence if it was not terribly overbearing, and there was plenty to find attractive in a confident man, particularly as a leader. Mavros had been in such an uncertain state for so long, surely confidence would inspire the idea of stability, of a man who knew what he was doing, knew how to accomplish the things that needed to be done. Rena could see how that would be incredibly appealing to a people that had struggled for turns.

However, as she continued reading, her heart dropped as she read that he seemed to have an interest in a woman already. Tui had done a bit of ‘poking around’ about her, as she called it, and found that she was Lord Divano’s daughter, at Mavros as a candidate. Rena read that several times to reassure herself, because surely if she was a candidate then she could not be his Lady? And yet Tui was sure to mention how he had escorted her to the announcement of the election results, how she had been on his arm and many people had seen it. That seemed to be a clear statement of his intent. But how would that work? She was a candidate. But then she considered that Mavros was a Weyrhold. Could riders hold titles there? Could his wife be a dragonrider? Tui had no more information on the subject, unfortunately, though assured her she would keep an eye on the development.

Tossing the hide onto the table before her, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes as if she could unread that horrible news if she closed her eyes tight enough. Was she losing her chance already? Should she have her father reach out to Lord Asirikai on her behalf before things went too far with this… candidate girl? Lord Divano’s daughter…. Tidewalk. What did Tidewalk have to gain from such a union? They had been the hardest hit when Thread returned, she had heard. One might think Lord Divano would prefer to make alliances with Holds that were better off. Was it her own choosing, perhaps? Had they met while they were both at Mavros and some sort of relationship had formed? Perhaps she would give up her candidacy now that he had won? No matter how many questions occurred to her, there were no answers to be had, and it only left her more and more frustrated the more she wondered about it.

She needed to speak with her mother.

~~~

Her thoughts had been preoccupied by the idea that she might have already lost her chance for the rest of the day, but her mother was too busy to bother. Her best chance to speak with her would be the next morning, and so she did, hanging back after breakfast to see if her mother might have time to spare to speak with her. She couldn’t quite keep the urgency out of her voice. And so they’d gone back to her bedroom and she’d showed her mother the most recent letter Tui had written her, clasping her hands tightly in front of her to keep from fidgeting as her mother took the hide from her.

A slight smile quirked Zinara’s lips, “Handsome.”

She flashed the image Tui had drawn toward her and Renaria felt her face flame, “Please ignore that. I did not request it.”

Zinara made no more comment on it, ignoring it for the words instead, and her slight smile shifted into a thoughtful frown. “Hm… I have heard that Lord Divano has made several visits to Mavros, but last I knew he was trying to wed his daughter to Jask…. Lord Degranik’s wedding was half a turn ago… plenty of time to seek a new match.”

“But what does he have to gain?” she asked, exasperated. For all that she had thought about it, she had no good answer, “And was it really his plan, if she’s a candidate? Faranth knows the Weyrs have… looser morals. Won’t her virtue be called into question?”

“It is assuredly in question,” her mother replied, bringing her hand up to her chin thoughtfully, “But perhaps Asirikai cares more for an alliance with Lord Divano than the slightly tarnished reputation of the daughter. Tidewalk itself may not have much to offer by way of resources but Lord Divano is a shrewd politician… he would be a valuable ally for a young Lord.”

“More valuable than Fort’s resources and reputation?” Rena was doubtful about that, but if her mother was speaking highly of Lord Divano’s ability then he must be fairly impressive. Lady Zinara was not easily impressed. “And I still don’t understand what Lord Divano’s motivation might be. What can Mavros offer him?”

Her mother’s frown turned in her direction, “Come now, my dear. You’re smarter than that. You’re thinking of it purely from a political view. Try a different perspective. Divano is a Lord but he is also a father. A father’s motivations can be very different from a Lord’s. So tell me. What would a good father want for his daughter in this situation?”

Her mother’s chiding and the chance to redeem herself had her straightening a bit, eager to find the answer now that her mother had offered a hint nudging her in the right direction. What would a good father want? She was no parent, not yet, but she tried to imagine she was, tried to imagine what she might want for her own daughter in such a situation. Impression was not a guarantee. Plenty of candidates went off to the Weyr to stand for a single clutch and simply returned to whatever they’d been doing, unwilling to risk wasting time on something that may never come to pass. “A contingency… something waiting, should she fail to Impress….” She frowned slightly, “But with her virtue in question I don’t imagine she’ll have many decent marriage prospects available to her… surely a marriage to any Lord would be preferable to none at all?”

“It very well may be,” Zinara agreed, “Or it might be her own choice and perhaps Lord Divano has nothing to do with it at all. If she wished to be a Lady there was no reason for her to accept Search, unless something formed organically between them at Mavros, I suppose. Either way she will have to choose. A rider cannot be a Lady.”

“Can’t they? Mavros is a Weyrhold… things may be different there,” Renaria posed the idea that perhaps concerned her the most about this entire ordeal. That Vanisha’s candidacy didn’t matter one bit either way because in a Weyrhold riders could be Ladies and Lords and whatever else they wanted to be. Mirran was the only other Weyrhold on Pern and she’d never been able to find much information recorded about them. There was nothing to indicate that their politics and policies were vastly different from the rest of Pern but there was nothing to indicate they weren’t, either. She knew they had a separate Lord and Lady and also a Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, but that didn’t particularly mean their Lords and Ladies couldn’t be riders.

Zinara let loose a sigh, “That is a true enough statement, and I’ve no reassurance for you. Mavros is certainly its own breed… who knows what they may allow or how else they might flaunt laws and traditions.” She frowned at her daughter once more, “Are you sure this is the place you want to try to build your life?”

That her mother might not actually approve of her plan had a flash of panic coursing through her. She wanted to make her mother proud… was that not possible at Mavros? After all, her point about Mavros having little to offer Tidewalk held plenty true for Fort. An alliance with Mavros did nothing for them currently. Did her mother see it as a wasted marriage? But for some reason she thought of her mother’s earlier words. A father’s motivations can be very different from a Lord’s. Perhaps… a mother’s motivations could be very different from a Lady’s as well. Was it only a mother’s worry that drove Lady Zinara to question her resolve? It was strange to think of it that way. Her mother was led by logic, not emotion. She couldn’t help but ask, “Are you asking as my Lady or my mother?”

A brief look of utter surprise passed over her mother’s features and Renaria wasn’t sure she had ever seen such an expression on her face before. Lady Zinara did not allow the expression but for a few heartbeats before she had herself under control again and a short laugh burst from her lips, “Does my answer change yours?”

“Perhaps,” she met her mother’s gaze steadily, doing her best to give nothing away, as her mother so often did.

“You ought to be able to determine the answer on your own,” Zinara informed her, but she did not leave her to puzzle it out for herself this time, “If I disapproved of this choice of yours as your Lady, I would never have allowed you to continue to entertain the idea. But as your mother… I want only to support you, in whatever endeavors you choose for yourself. Whether I entirely approve or not.” She let out a light sigh and shook her head, continuing before Renaria might read more into her words than there was, “I do not disapprove of your ambitions, my dear… I simply worry for what sort of life you will have, and if in the end, you will be happy with the choices you’ve made. I know I have never been a terribly affectionate mother… but that does not mean I don’t want the best for every one of my children.” She reached up to cup Renaria’s cheek gently, causing her to blink up at her mother in surprise at the gesture, “Do you truly believe Mavros is the best thing for you?”

Her mother’s eyes searched hers for a quiet moment, and then Renaria raised her chin a bit, her voice firm with her conviction because if she wavered now, her mother would know immediately, would continue to doubt and question, “It is the only thing for me.”

After a moment more, Zinara leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her daughter’s forehead before releasing her, meeting her eyes again, “Then I will do everything I can to help you obtain it.” She glanced down at the letter still in her hand, “Tuilora said she would keep an eye on this. You ought to ask her to have a proper conversation with the girl, see if she can glean anything concrete about the nature of her relationship with Asirikai. If there is a clear plan for her to abandon candidacy in favor of marriage to him, it will be quite a delicate situation for us. I would not say it is yet a lost cause, but if a plan is already in motion it will be difficult for Lord Asirikai to set the girl aside for another without causing offense. If the two have feelings for each other, well… I am afraid there will be little we can do, then. But we need more information before we can act. The sooner the better, before this develops further.”

Renaria gave a short nod, “I’ll have a letter ready when next her flit visits.”

“Good. And I shall discuss the matter with your father. Now that the election is done, the Lords will be coming together in Conclave to discuss the matter, likely before the month is out. Mavros may have voted but the Lords won’t be denied their say in whether they will accept Asirikai among their ranks. I see little reason for any of them to fight it, but there will be a naysayer or two that will argue only for the sake of it,” she waved her hand dismissively, “It is safe to assume they would prefer to see a proper Lord in place than for Mavros to continue this voting every turn, as your father mentioned some months ago. I could perhaps see some northern Lords feeling scorned their kin had no chance at it and contesting…. Well, I find it more likely the majority will support Asirikai’s Lordship and that is all that matters. I’m sure it will be an unofficial topic of discussion for the Lords at the Turnover Conclave. Your father should bring some insight home with him.”

Renaria could never understand how her mother handled being excluded from Conclaves as graciously as she did. She was the rightful heir to Fort, not her father, and yet only her father went to speak on Fort’s behalf at Conclave. Her mother had told her that some Ladies did force their presence at Conclave, but it seemed to her a foolish act. Lords would always receive ideas more readily from other Lords, so it was far more intelligent to simply put her words in her husband’s mouth and let the Lords at Conclave believe they had come from the mind of another man. It just seemed frustrating to Renaria, but her mother had been playing this game for quite a long time now. “Why do they wait to discuss it formally? If they are all already together, why not just settle the matter?” she finally asked, shaking off her annoyance.

“The news is too fresh, and some of them have Ladies they’ll wish to discuss the matter with,” Lady Zinara’s lips quirked in a slight smile, “Not that any of them will admit it to one another.” Renaria let out a soft laugh at that. “And they will wish to make subtle inquiries with each other to see how the other Lords are feeling about it so they have some expectations going into the discussion. Some may seek to change minds beforehand. It is also a matter for Lord Holders alone, and Craftmasters and Weyrleaders will be attending the Turnover Conclave as well.”

“And you don’t think there’s any chance the Lords won’t confirm him?” her mother seemed confident, but Renaria was curious if she had any doubts at all.

“There is always a chance, but I couldn’t imagine how they might come to such a decision. As I said, there may be some naysayers but only a majority is needed. Lord Divano will more than likely be working on Asirikai’s behalf, and that is no small thing. Surely Lord Porrinsen will support his son’s claim, and it would be rather foolish for any of the southern Lords that had kin in the running to protest, it would be like denying their own kin’s possible right to Lordship. The two western Lords ought to support anything that will assist Mavros, I know they have a good relationship with their Weyr at least. If we assume the South will be behind him, which is safe enough I think, we need only concern ourselves with fragile northern egos that may have been bruised by Mavros’s northern exclusion. The North does hold more votes, but between Lord Divano, your father, and Lord Porrinsen, depending on how much assistance he might be willing to lend his son, I am sure enough Lords can be won over if northern egos do indeed prove terribly fragile.”

“Well if any other northern sons reacted like Arafrend, there is a high chance,” Renaria murmured, recalling her brother’s offense.

“Oh, to be sure, there will have been no shortage of bruised egos,” her mother agreed with some amusement, “But for now, we can only wait. Your father should return tomorrow. We will see what he has to say then.”

~~~

It was late the next day when her mother finally sent for her to hear what her father had to say. Lord Frewind offered her a pleasant smile and Renaria stepped forward to place a kiss on her father’s cheek. Her father had always been the more affectionate parent, which made it easier to be affectionate back, even though she was no longer a little girl. “Welcome home, father.”

“And glad I am to be back. The dickering at Conclave grows wearisome,” Frewind responded as he absently reached up to tuck a stray lock of his daughter’s hair back behind her ear, “Divano did bring us news of the election. I was rather surprised that he was at Mavros to hear it personally, but your mother tells me Asirikai may have some interest in his daughter?”

Renaria felt her jaw tighten on the displeased noise that tried to escape her, “So it seems. Did Lord Divano make any mention of them?”

“No, not in my hearing at least. There was plenty of grumbling from a number of northern Lords over the lack of northern inclusion in the election. It appears your brothers were not the only ones vexed by the lack of opportunity,” Frewind continued, “I don’t know why Hallenfar was so upset about it. His next eldest after his heir is barely old enough to be called a man, let alone compete against older men for a Lordship. But where Hallenfar leads that tunnelsnake Banterin follows.”

“Igen and Lemos are in opposition then?” Renaria tilted her head in the slightest, considering, “Who else?”

“Mirran, of course,” Frewind rolled his eyes to show just what he thought of that, “Spurned once and excluded this time, it’s no wonder. They won’t be turned, that’s for sure. Mirranese stubbornness is quite legendary. I spoke with my brother before I left and he seemed a bit miffed over it himself - I imagine Yumillin would have liked to have a chance - but after our conversation he seemed more accepting. I heard nothing else personally, but Dendallen and Yallewek were muttering to each other after Divano delivered the news and didn’t seem to be speaking praises about it.”

“Do you think he will have a majority?” she pressed, wondering how many other Lords might be nursing wounded pride enough to dissent.

Her father made a thoughtful sound, “It is honestly difficult to say at this point. I heard too little about the subject from too few. He may have near half the Lords’ support, or somewhat less, or somewhat more, but there is certainly resistance. As only southern men were invited, it is safe to assume the majority of the south should be for him, save Mirran at least. And Jask and Charin will support any improvement to Mavros, they’ve always had a decent relationship with their Weyr. If we assume all the south save Mirran, and both western Lords will be for confirming Asirikai, that leaves him with ten votes in support. Majority is fourteen. I shall offer Fort’s support and I believe my brother will offer Crom’s support as well, but we are still short two and I only know who is most likely to withhold support. If any but the five I suspect are staunchly against, they were more tightlipped about it.”

Renaria allowed a thoughtful silence for a moment as she thought on her father’s explanation. Surely two more votes in support would not be difficult to acquire? “With nine unknown… there must be at least two other northern Lords who could be swayed?”

“Lord Undredon is quite likely,” her mother offered, “The man is always seeking alliance with other coastal Holds. He was a sailor before he was a Lord, and Asirikai was raised in a coastal Hold, with some sailing background of his own. It ought to endear him to the Lord of Tillek.”

“So that’s thirteen likely of the fourteen needed,” Renaria thought aloud, looking to her father, “He will get the majority in the end, won’t he? Not all the northern Lords will be offended enough to be completely put off, will they?”

“I should hope not,” Frewind replied with a slight huff of annoyance, “I will make inquiries, but nothing will be certain until we meet again and discuss it at Conclave. Our guessing today is taking into account the best case scenarios. For all we know, some of the southern Lords could end up dissenting after all, and bring the support count down further. And Lord Undredon is a fairly traditional sort of man, it’s hard to say if a shared seafaring background will be enough to sway him to support the results of an election.” He took his daughter’s hand and patted it gently, “Your mother and I shall keep you informed, Rena.”

Renaria smiled softly, “Thank you, father.”

Frewind nodded, “And should he be confirmed, I will reach out to him for you. We just have to hope nothing further develops between him and Divano’s daughter in the mean time.”

And that was Renaria’s real concern, but there was nothing they could do about that. If by some chance Asirikai was not confirmed in his position, he would be considered little more than another ‘Holder Elect’ with no real authority where the Lords of Pern were concerned, and that would put a damper on her plans. She needed to see him confirmed before they could take any further steps, and that left more time for something to solidify between him and Divano’s daughter. She could only hope Vanisha’s continued candidacy would work in her favor.