Post by kevna on Apr 20, 2024 15:57:39 GMT -5
Asirikai - Lord Holder of Mavros
It was hard to ignore her, seeing as she was the cause of the madness within his mind. Impossible not to watch her interact with her mother, a young girl, then a blue rider. Her dragon seemed to lead the docile Vanisha every which way, the beginning of her slavery to the Weyr and the dragon. All coerced by the shelling bond that made her want to do so. It didn’t take long for Podrell to find her. His anger had sparked with Podrell’s approach to Vanisha, causing Honor to tense and hiss at the unknown enemy causing his owner’s emotions. It shouldn’t surprise him, Podrell was merely doing what Asirikai had done at Siorreya’s graduation, was he not? The Lord Holder had done his best not to watch them dance. Watch her eyes light up, her smile grow and diminish with the passing of conversation.
Each time his eyes had found them, Honor had reacted, and he had had to intervene. The worst reaction had occurred when Vanisha’s eyes had happened upon his. His jaw had clenched, and the sun-crazed spitter had started as if to launch up and attack whoever was closest. “Behave.” He used a firm, but soothing voice, proffering up a meatroll for the winged pet. He had learned that leeching anger and frustration into his voice only drove up the beasts antics, or drove the thing between. He was training the beast, but the bronze was young yet, and didn’t know any better. It was then he had noted his niece Rellira on the dance floor. She provided an interesting distraction-she was growing into a pretty young lady. She had proper form as she was led through the dance.
He could use her, if she was willing that was, to strengthen bonds. His father had never bothered with Asirikai, why would he do his grandchildren the honor of finding them appropriate matches? He considered that for a time, watching her twirl on the dance floor. Yes. That would work out nicely for him. He would need to be seeking out matches for himself as it were, and while Rellira was young yet, this was the prime time to find and prepare her for a match. “Will you excuse me, gentlemen?” He asked the group of men that had surrounded him-he had only been half in their conversation. They weren't gentlemen, not really, but he would make them gentlemen. At least most had given him and, more likely Honor, space from having to actually partake fully in the conversation.
He departed after their polite goodbyes, looking for Pollifa. She was the person to approach first, seeing as she was taking a hand in the rearing of the girl. It took him the rest of the dance to realize his niece was not the room. Feeling disgruntled, he realized that Rellira must have come with her brother. Well, he would have to speak with Pollifa and Rellira at a later date. Though, not too much later, seeing as he needed to start the process in finding himself a Lady. Sooner rather then later. He did not look forward to the process. The simpering, the giggling, the games. No. Perhaps just an arrangement, to save him the trouble? Ah, but then there was the possibility of some Lord Holder pawning some rebellious daughter off on him. That just wouldn’t do. He was resigned to the fact that he would have to be an active participant in selecting his bride.
The song was long over, and his eyes naturally sought the wavy auburn hair again. He would wait till later in the night, perhaps when he was ready to leave, then he would find her, and offer his… congratulations. He almost rolled his eyes at the word. Congratulations. What a joke. Despite his intentions, it wasn’t three songs later he noticed her moving on her own, speaking quietly to the green she had impressed. He looked to Honor, considering sending the creature away, but thought better of it. It would give him a better reason to hold his temper in her presence.
He took sure steps to her, “Vanisha, a word, please.” Vanisha came up short, her eyes briefly meeting his before demurely dropping. She lowered into an elegant curtsy with the years of practice her birthright had given her, and he couldn’t help the flash of regret, tinged with anger. Honor flapped, but was easily comforted with soft fingers. “My Lord Asirikai. What an honor to have you here, celebrating all the weyrlings and their bonded.” Her soft voice was alluring and serene. “And what a noble looking creature upon your shoulder.” He swallowed, almost appreciative of her calming presence, that is, until his narrowed eyes fell on the striped blue-green dragonet. “Indeed, this is Honor. He is quite a gift. It would please me to meet the dragonet that you impressed to.”
His voice sounded even a little flat to himself, and he watched the dragonet look from Vanisha to him, and back again. Her eyes whirling from color to color. “This is green Sabellath.” She said it just as the little green chose that moment to speak to him.
You are the one that wanted mine. But you cannot have her, because she is mine. She was always to be mine. Mine was concerned you would be angry, but that seems like a ridiculous thing to feel, when she was never meant to be yours. Are you angry?
“Ridiculous?” Asirikai said softly, so softly as he considered the green before him, the small abhorrent creature that believed it better then him. How dare it. The bronze on his shoulder was starting to shift again, a sound not unlike a moan emitting from it’s small beak.
“Sabellath.” Vanisha said softly, her voice strained but pointedly trying to get the green’s attention. Her soft skin had paled significantly, her eyes wide. He assumed there was a conversation going on between them, and Vanisha turned back to him, curtsying. “Please, forgive her my Lord, she is very young.” Despite the obvious, Vanisha had placed a calm, penitent face in place, stepping in front of her dragon, and in so doing, placing herself closer to him.
I do not see- The dragon cut off right as Vanisha stiffened.
He swallowed his anger, his derision as best he could, placing a small, stiff smile in place. “Indeed. Young. But is she not correct? No, need to be… angry.” He said that dangerously soft, his eyes tracing her face, her lips, then met her eyes. “I merely wished to offer you congratulations in your new place, greenrider.” The title was like dust in his mouth. He nodded to her, and murmured, “If you will excuse me.”
He was walking away when her heard her soft, “Of course, my Lord.” His hands fisted, and the bronze let out another moan-the night was over for him. He had come and shown his face. He had seen her one last time. Now she was the Weyr’s and he had work to do in finding a more suitable bride.
