The Right Thing


Ahnika.jpg Jhath Mohria.jpg Riordanth Crispin (NPC'd by Mohria)

Date: 10/2/10
Location: EW: Lakeshore
Synopsis: Mohria confronts Ahnika about the lesson where she talked back to F'min and got in trouble for it, and Ahnika finally gets the opportunity to state (in no pleasant terms) some of what bothered her that day.
Rating: PG-13 - Language
Logger: Ahnika

It has been almost a month since the disastrous Weyrling lesson, after which F'min came down with firehead and was stashed away in his weyr to heal. During that time Mohria and Riordanth became equally scarce while tending to the brownrider and his lifemate, while their son Crispin was sent to stay in the brat caves and be taken care of by F'min's mother. It is a rare sight, then, to see Mohria, Riordanth and Crispin all out at the lake together. The small blue dragon looks relatively healthy, though the usual brightness of his eyes and hide has dimmed somewhat with the stress of the past month. A little more haggard looking, the empathetic dragon is in the middle of the lake, swimming around relatively calmly - for him, anyway. On the shore Mohria and Crispin sit, digging in the sand. The young boy plays quite happily with his mother, but Mohria is the one who looks the worst. She looks as if she hasn't taken that good of care of herself. Thinner than before with dark circles under her eyes, her clothes are rumpled and despite her smile and soft laughter while she plays with her son, it's obvious the month has taken its toll. Rubbing her rounded stomach gently, she leans back to watch Crispin play.

Meanwhile, the extra PT penance has done Ahnika a lot of good, herself, even if by the end of the day she was practically too sore and tired to stand. After the penance was lifted, some of the extra PT was adopted by Ahnika to be added in what spare time she had, though if that was something of her own initiative or encouraged more by her militant tomboy of a green, who knows? It’s only served to strengthened her physically, regardless. Her willowy build has muscle that’s toned up considerably now, and there’s a few more freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks as her skin has darkened a measure with the summer sun and having to be out in it as much as she has. Her red hair has reacted to the sun, as well, taking on a sort of more sun-kissed coppery look that she didn’t have for all the spring while spending it mostly in the darker confines of the lower sections of the weyr. At this hour of the morning, having just finished their breakfasts, and Jhath’s bath and oiling, yet again, the two are circling the lake at an easy trot, side by side (with distance allowed, of course, for Jhath’s huge size comparatively). They are quiet, seeming to enjoy each other’s company on an internal level, and as they round that portion of the lake where Mohria is with Crispin, the weyrling draws to a stop long enough to salute the bluerider as protocol demands, but she’s not about to interrupt what is obviously a family moment, and so seems ready to simply continue on her jog once the bluerider returns said salute, assuming it will be in dismissive fashion. Jhath, for her part, draws to a slow stop, as well, and much as Ahnika’s direction of attention is on the bluerider for her salute, Jhath’s attention is on her as well, but for anyone who has followed this green pair since the hatching would know, it’s not surprising. So strongly connected, these two are.

Mohria looks up at the approach of others, lifting her hand in a brief salute. But then the woman is standing, pattin Crispin's hair with a soft, "Stay here," as she walks away from the boy and towards the green and rider, her salute turning into more of a wave to flag them down. "Ahnika. Jhath," the bluerider says as she nears, presuming they stop. Out in the lake Riordanth begins to swim towards the shore, angling not for his rider, but for Crispin. The little boy watches the greenrider pair with a serious look, but it doesn't last before he's grinning and waving, and then happily turning back to his play.

Ahnika may have her strong convictions about things, but she’s no brute, and so as the pregnant bluerider salutes and gets up to approach, Ahnika is not about to have the poor woman come all the way out to her in this summer sun. Without even a glance at Jhath, the green weyrling pair double-times it to meet Mohria part way. A congenial smile and polite wave is sent back at the boy who is playing before Ahnika returns her attention to the blue rider, affecting a disciplined, regulation-stiff posture without actually standing in ‘at-attention’ since they aren’t exactly in formation at present. Having already saluted Mohria, Ahnika doesn’t do it again, just waits with a politely patient expression for whatever is needed of her or Jhath. If she recognizes Mohria as F’min’s weyrmate, there seems no indication in her expression. Jhath on the other hand remains towering at Ahnika’s side, her position less regulation-worthy and more simply calm and dignified. If Riordanth’s movement toward the child is of any concern to the green, she does a good job of hiding it, as her attention seems more glued to the bluerider at present.

Mohria glances briefly at the green, her eyes running with practiced ease along the beast's lines. "She looks well," she remarks first, gaze flicking back to Ahnika. With one hand resting on her rounded stomach she rubs it gently as she watches the green weyrling quietly for a moment. Then she finally speaks, clearing her throat gently. "Would you please," she begins, her voice soft and tired, "tell me what happened that lesson?" Surely Ahnika knows the one she's talking about. Riordanth drips his way out of the lake and lays down beside where Crispin plays, his tail easily incorporated into the boy's sand hold.

The tall and stocky young dragon at Ahnika’s side lowers her head automatically in polite acceptance of the compliment, while Ahnika supplies, “Thank you, ma’am,” with a slight smile. That smile is wiped clear away with the question however, but she doesn’t tense so much as look confused a moment. After all, it’s not uncommon for the weyrlings to be asked ‘now what did we learn today?’ in some such manner, or asked to repeat a lesson learned at some other time. In addition, it has been so long since the event itself that Jhath can’t even remember it, unless Ahnika relives it in her mind for her. But either something said or unsaid or something in the manner of Mohria’s questioning makes it click eventually. So, Ahnika is slow in answering, but it’s not out of reluctance or even shame. “Ah, well, Voldrath pissed off Jhath and she gave him lip for it, ma’am. Acting Weyrlingmaster F’min tried to punish her by sending her from the lesson. I stood up for her, tried to explain things from her perspective. Acting Weyrlingmaster F’min gave me a dressing down for it. I gave him lip for it and got a penance. That’s pretty much it, ma’am.” All cut and dry as far as Ahnika is concerned. She talked back and got a penance as she would expect to. End of story. Neither she nor Jhath seem at all distracted by Mohria rubbing her pregnant stomach, nor in the blue babysitting the little. Their attention is disciplined and set on the ranking bluerider’s face only.

Mohria nods her head slowly as she listens, her eyes moving from the green weyrling to her son, and back again many times during the telling. "You have to understand," she finally says quietly, "that where F'min and I went through Weyrlinghood, things were much different. Our Weyrlingmaster was brutal. And for good reason." Her eyes glance skyward and she sighs softly. "There is a time and a place to question. It's how understanding is reached. But there is also a time and a place to just be quiet and do what you're told." There's a small flicker of a smile on her lips before her eyes drop once again to Ahnika. "I know the lesson is so far in the past that it hardly matters anymore, but I still feel the need to stand up for F'min and his actions. He pushes and he is militant not only because that is how he and I were taught, but also because he cares. If he didn't care about your safety and your lifemate's safety, he would be far more lax in his actions. Threadfighting is not something to be taken lightly. Orders must be followed without question, and a rider must have absolute control over their dragon at all times. I know what you're going through, believe me. Riordanth was - is - quite the vocal and opinionated dragon as well. And he and I endured many hardships in Weyrlinghood until I learned control. Beyond that, I know F'min was falling ill at the time, and so I feel the need to apologize to you for those circumstances that were beyond his control. The firstone sacks were far, far too heavy." The woman sighs, tired and sad looking as her hand rubs her stomach soothingly. "It has been a very, very rough month," she finally concludes. "I just hope you learned something from the experience."

As Mohria lectures, Ahnika’s expression remains remarkably neutral, but mostly because she’s heard this speech a thousand times from other riders before since the lesson. The first couple of times, she snapped back, explaining that they didn’t know what the shells they were talking about and unless they were actually there, to just put a sock in it. But she learned pretty quickly that regardless of her own convictions and beliefs on the matter, allowing people to think she and Jhath’s will have been suitably dominated and under thumb is just easier on everyone and it doesn’t really matter anymore anyway. In fact, Ahnika looks to be suppressing a yawn if anything, while Jhath’s eyes swirl yellow and she snorts at one point during the little lecture but it fades merely a moment later, likely because of some internal calming from the weyrling, and the young green actually does yawn. It’s catching. Still, Mohria is a superior and Ahnika remains silent until the woman finishes what she has to say, her expression still neutral. She hasn’t asked any questions since her first one, and neither has she asked Ahnika for any details and as such, Ahnika’s not going to volunteer them out of turn. Her expression is so guarded, in fact, there doesn’t appear to be an ounce of sympathy for Mohria or F’min and his illness. Not that she isnt’ sympathetic, she’s just too busy guarding her expression from everything along with keeping Jhath from erupting with new fury at the same time, to show it. The disciplined little soldier pair merely stands there quietly and waits to hear more or be dismissed, whichever comes first.

Mohria glances over at Jhath when the green's eyes take on those telling yellow hues, and she frowns. "I see there is still some anger there," she remarks calmly, looking questioningly back at Ahnika. "Do you still believe you were right to argue?" Now she just looks a little amused. "Strong willed, are you? That's good. Very good. So long as you can control it. That's the hard part." She chuckles, looking over at the yawning green. "And it seems that you can. Just be careful, Ahnika, that you don't let your anger and frustration and 'I'm hard done by, no one understands me' teenage angst get the better of you. You have to earn your respect as a dragonrider. It doesn't come free." No, she's not dismissing the green pair yet, looking between them.

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth's mind brushes against the green's with a questioning cool mountain stream, and his voice is soft bell chimes. « What do you think? » he asks, calm and relaxed after his swim in the lake.

Taking this new line of questioning as being more condescendingly rhetorical since Mohria didn’t wait for her to answer before continuing, Ahnika doesn’t speak. Her expression remains neutral as the lecture continues, even as another derisive snort comes from Jhath, but there is no yellow to her eyes, so it’s either something said she simply disagrees with but not going to get angry about, or something that Ahnika states internally to her lifemate that she is blending in response to. Again, the pair remains otherwise sedately present while waiting for orders, dismissal, or Faranth-forbid, more lecturing.

Dragon> To Riordanth, Jhath offers in barely subdued heat from a well-stoked fire and a nearly choking smog of incense. « Is there something specific you are referring to? I think much about many things. » There is little disguising her sarcasm.

Mohria tilts her head a little, obviously waiting for a reply from the green weyrling.

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth drifts away from the incense smog, veiling himself in the cool and refreshing waters of his thoughts. « About your place in things, » he specifies.

Ahnika meets that gaze steadfastedly with her grey eyes, dutifully awaiting instructions, orders or dismissal or otherwise. If there was a question for her, she apparently missed it. There is no ire or frustration or, really, anything in that expression or body language. She is a soldier. She is there until told to be elsewhere or do something. Period.

Dragon> To Riordanth, Jhath replies after a lengthy pause from his drifting away, the incense remains, but the heat of her hearth has died down to a satisfying warm glow, stating curtly, « I stand beside mine. » which is true in many ways, including physically, which may have been what she was going for, considering the sarcasm earlier.

Mohria sighs quietly, rubbing her stomach and turning to look back at her son, playing in the sand. Then she looks back at Ahnika. "There's no repercussions here, Ahnika. I'm not going to punish you for your thoughts or feelings. I'm just asking you. Do you believe you did the right thing?"

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth's waters drift around her heat, not seeking to quench it or corral it. Instead, he is warmed by it. « That is where we should be, » he agrees. « Always, and no matter what, we stand beside ours. »

With the repeated question, Ahnika simply blinks a few times at first, and then she clears her throat, having been silent for so long. “No, ma’am,” she says at first, which earns a quick look from Jhath and a snort of either dissention or even disapproval of her own lifemate’s words, as Ahnika continues, “I don’t believe I did the right thing.” Pause. “I know I did the right thing.” Arrogant much? Cue smug and approvingly look from tall green dragon beside her now; there’s even a satisfied rumble from deep within Jhath’s chest. Ahnika, for her part, doesn’t smile. Her neutral expression remains.

Mohria glances briefly at Jhath at the snort, but her attention remains mostly on the rider. "Why?" she asks, seeking elaboration.

Had this been immediately following the event, Ahnika would be more than happy to supply her justification for the way things unfolded. But since everyone at that time and really pretty much since was more interested in lecturing and not even asking Ahnika or Jhath’s take on the events even considering that up until that moment, the pair had been the epitome of disciplined “good” weyrlings (which apparently, to Ahnika’s reckoning, counts for nothing now), she’s more than a little cynical, skeptical, and even caustic over the notion that someone would actually stop to listen to ‘mere’ weyrlings. So, she narrows her eyes a little at Mohria, not necessarily because of any anger as much as she’s trying to figure out if the bluerider is just trying to trap her or the bluerider is actually genuinely interested. Preparing herself mentally for another penance for speaking out less than diplomatically, as she is just not a girl to mince words (waste of time in her estimation), Ahnika says, “He was behaving like a sharding fool of a whiny weyrbrat with his hands over his ears lying on the ground throwing a temper tantrum, ma’am, and, sick or no, someone had to speak up. Since none of the other ‘masters did, we did. Anytime someone who is supposed to be in charge is acting silly and not paying attention to what they’re about, we’ll speak up. Even if it is the sharding weyrleader himself, ma’am, we’ll speak up. If I’m to have my Jhath fly in someone’s wing, you better believe they better be right as rain and not in their cups or acting like a little brat and ignoring the obvious, or I will take over the sharding wing and do it right myself, rather than risk my dragon’s life, or any of my fellow wingmate’s lives just because some shell of a fool has such an ego as not to listen to good sense when he’s been given it, no matter who is giving it. It’s no different down on the ground, and you said so yourself, when you were talking earlier. This is life and death. If he cares so much about our lives and wellbeings? Then tell him to get the shells out of the ‘master’s office until he can swallow some of that pride and ego and do it properly, because Jhath and I don’t brook no nonsense when it comes to the lives of those who live here, or even the lives of the Southern riders working their asses off so much to protect us until we’re able to do it ourselves.” She leans in a little, not threateningly of course, but to emphasize her point, “And that is why, ma’am.” At least she didn’t call him a twit this time. Maybe she did learn something. She straightens and rolls her shoulders a little. That kind of felt good, or so says her expression. During her lifemate’s little diatribe, Jhath sits stately and calmly beside her, though her chest seems to puff a little at Ahnika now taking the opportunity to do the lecturing, it seems. “Now, ma’am, if you’re done enjoying your little condescending lecture, I’d like to be dismissed. I’d like to finish my run before getting to my next training lesson, which if properly done, might actually save lives.” Oh, yeah, she just went there.

Mohria listens patiently to Ahnika's rant, looking nothing but curious and interested to hear the girl's side of things. As she finishes, Mohria gives a little nod. "And I would like to get back to my son. Thank you for elaborating for me, Ahnika. I do disagree that I was condescending, though. Have a good day." And with that the bluerider tosses up a casual salute and turns, walking carefully back to her little son and her dragon to continue their play time.

As Mohria dismisses Ahnika without handing out another penance, the green weyrling doesn’t even try to hide the mild surprise. She returns the salute as protocol dictates, and by rote, really, by this point, and watches the bluerider walk carefully back to her son and the blue dragon. After a moment, she looks to Jhath and just shrugs and picks up her feet to resume their jog until their next lesson begins.

Closing Credits Theme Music: Shontelle "Battle Cry"

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