Stardate: 80724.2130
Scene: Present, Whiteriver Warren

	"What does she say?" Titania asked, aloud.  She and Bishlea were 
being stared down by the other dragon, who had swooped out of nowhere to 
snatch Bishlea's intended snack.

	*She says we're intruding on her warren.*

	Titania's first thought was, *Who the hell died and made her 
queen?*

	*She is the Queen, Anya,* Bishlea answered, patiently.  *Notice 
the color.*

	The tall girl twisted her head to look once again at the dragon 
who had snatched Bishlea's lunch.  The sunlight was gleaming off of the 
silver scales, dazzling her eyes.  She snorted and said, "I don't care if 
she's royal blue and lined in ermine, she stole your falcon!"

	*There isn't much I can do about it, now.  It's already on its 
way to becoming the lunch that was.*

	Titania again twisted, peering down at the ground far below.  She 
spotted a figure standing with her head craned upwards, watching the 
drama unfolding above.  Her rider, she realized, and, then, for the first 
time, felt an urge to go down and confront a warren member.  Her years as 
an outcast had made her more bitter than she cared to think of, but now, 
she was seeking revenge which had no outlet.

	And, this warren provided an opportunity.

	*Let's go down,* Titania suggested, dismissing the Queen dragon 
from her mind.  Pampered pet, she thought, probably wouldn't have been 
able to catch that falcon if Bishlea hadn't worn it down and drove it 
right to her.

	*Causing trouble?  They will not be pleased to have us.* There was 
a paused, after which Bishlea added, just to let Titania know that her 
thought hadn't gone unnoticed, * And, you do not know about Cricket's 
abilities to hunt.* 
	
	*I don't want them pleased; I want them to apologize.* Titania 
told her, although, Bishlea already knew that.

	*Sounds like fun,* came the response, a bit gleefully.

	Bishlea angled herself down, slowly dropping to the ground.  The 
Queen followed, landing first, close to her rider who was watching with 
interest as the wild dragon alighted and a very tall woman hopped off.  
The dragon was large by dragon standards and black as night.  The woman 
who stood in front of the dragon was dressed in leather armor dyed black 
to match her hair and the scales of the dragon.  It was hard to tell, 
even in the sunlight, where the woman began and the dragon ended.

	Trinale spotted the handle of a sword and a long bow peeking out 
from over the woman's shoulders.  A fighter, she thought, to which her 
dragon agreed, adding, *Wild dragon, Trinale.  Like the one that stole my 
child.*

	The woman approached, leaving behind her dragon, and Trinale 
found that she more curious than suspicious.

	What was this woman's tale?

			************

Time: Five years ago
Scene: Tilharnon, noble's house

	The shout went up and spread like wild fire.  Soldiers hustled 
from distant vantage points, angling to catch a glimpse of the huge 
flying object that was lowering itself into the courtyard of the large 
noble's house.  Arrows drawn, swords ready, they gaped at the black 
dragon and the rider who slid off.

	"Galvin of Tilharnon!" The woman bellowed, her voice echoed 
immediately by the roar of the dragon.  "I seek Galvin!"

	One man broke free and dashed for the house, disappearing into 
the shadows as he wound his way through the house, bursting through a 
non-descript wooden door without knocking, a transgression which, had it 
not been an emergency, would have earned him a stern rebuke.

	"My lord, in the courtyard!" He exclaimed to the handsome man who 
was staring meditatively at a painting hanging over the fireplace.  His 
sky blue eyes shifted from the frail woman atop a horse to the sweating 
guard. 

	"What is it, Enos?"

	"A dragon, my lord!"

	The lord stood with a startled look then, jogged out of the room, 
heading for the courtyard.  He slowed his stride the closer he got, 
hearing the shout of a woman.  "Galvin! Show your sniveling hide, you 
bastard!"

	A stranger, he surmised, who obviously hadn't been at Tilharnon 
in a long while.  Galvin Wollstone, lord of Tilharnon, had disappeared 
five years ago.  Stepping into the bright sunshine, he was surprised by 
the sight of the woman and the dragon.

	She was tall, very tall and, despite the raggity clothes and 
tousled hair, quite lovely.  She was standing, her legs spread, with 
hands on hips, taunting the vanished Galvin, ignoring the arrows pointed 
in her direction.  Intrigued, he moved even closer.
	
	Titania watched him out of the corner of her eye, unafraid.  
Whoever he was didn't look like the typical sycophants Galvin used to 
keep around.  What on earth was someone like him doing in this house, she 
asked, herself.

	*Perhaps he attacked the village and took control.  It happens.* 
Bishlea commented, swishing her large tail, which agitated the men around 
them.  Which was precisely why she'd done it.

	*How would you know?* Titania asked, returning her attention to 
the man who was speaking to her.  *Lived in many villages, have you?*

	"He's gone." The man, taller than she, with light brown hair and a 
steady step, said.  He held back his men with a short wave of his hand.  
"He vanished five years ago."

	He stopped several meters from Titania, who gritted her teeth and 
said, "Liar!  The coward is probably cowering under his covers, with 
those dogs of his."

	Galvin's hunters, his pride and joy, whom he fed from the table 
his family had eaten at.  As a child, Titania had learned to hate the 
spoiled dogs whose only use was to hunt animals for sport.

	"Dogs?" The man frowned, then, took a step closer, peering at her 
face.  "Good God...Titania?"

	Titania took a step back, towards Bishlea, who asked, *Who is 
that?* 

	*I'm not sure.  He looks familiar.  Almost like...* She replied, 
then, out loud, asked, "Weston?"

	Titania remembered a solemn, quiet boy, her uncle's son by his 
first marriage.  Wes was ten years older than she, and he'd been a 
frequent recipient of Galvin's violent streak.  Titania recalled one 
instance when she, at five, had released Galvin's kits, her heart unable 
to stand the thought of hunting them merely for sport.  Wes had lied and 
told Galvin that he had done it.

	He was given ten lashes with a whip for 'insolence'.  Two days 
later, the 15 year old boy had been sent to a military school, half way 
acros the Dragonlands.  Titania had never seen the boy again.  He never 
returned, not for holidays or school breaks.  She'd never had the chance 
to thank him.

	Weston grinned, "It is you! I thought you were dead!"
	
	Titania didn't smile in response.  Bishlea asked if they could 
trust him, to which she replied, *Five years ago, I might have said 
yes.  But, he is Galvin's seed.  I wouldn't trust the man's corpse.*

	"I was dead.  I've returned for your father.  Where is he?" 
Titania asked, her eyes scouring the area behind Wes for his father.  

	Wes was thinking of the same memory; catching her next to the fox 
pen, with the door open and thinking, 'He'll kill her.'  He'd snapped the 
door shut and told her to hide, quickly.  Five years old, Titania 
Hestiani hadn't argued.  She scampered towards the bush, just as her uncle 
stormed out of the house.

	Wes never regretted taking the blame for the incident.  His 
father had always hated Titania and deep down, Wes suspected that he 
searched for any excuse to get rid of her.  For that reason, he withstood 
the whip without wimpering, but had argued long and hard against being 
sent away.  His step-mother, Eleanor, wasn't strong enough to protect 
Titania forever.

	He'd lost that fight, however.  And, ten years later, he'd 
recieved a letter informing him of his cousin's disappearance on one 
night, his step-mother's death the following morning and his father's 
disappearance that night.

	One, two, three, and he'd been left without any family at all.  
He'd returned to the village that he called home without any emotion and 
had picked up the reigns of control where his father had left off.  Wes 
had changed many, many things, however, and Tilharnon prospered as never 
before. 

	"Come inside.  I'll explain it all, Anya." He used the nickname 
his step-mother had called her, and the name by which he always thought 
of her.  He never could explain his fondness for the studious child who 
had followed him around for the first five years of her life.   But, now, 
he wondered if he'd always known, somewhere, about the woman she would 
become. 

	Titania hesitated, eyeing the soldiers who still gaped at 
Bishlea, weapons drawn.  She wasn't afraid for her dragon, who could 
toast them all in the blink of an eye, but, still it was an unnecessary 
risk. 

	"No harm will come to her," Wes assured her.

	*Home security flambe?* Bishlea asked, which forced Titania to 
cover a smile.  *Be quiet, Bishlea, you'll ruin everything.*

	"Feed her," Titania said, moving towards Westo. "And, she won't 
set the place on fire."

	"Wh-what does she eat?" One man asked, eyeing the dragon, who was 
making a ferocious rumbling noise that sent fear into their hearts.  The 
rumbling noise, however, Titania had long since learned, was the dragon 
version of a laugh.
	
	Bishlea was enjoying herself.

	"What would you eat if you were a dragon?" Titania asked, smiling 
with great relish.  "Raw meat."

			************
Time: That night
Scene: Library

	"On the night you disappeared, Eleanor changed her will, 
bequeathing her money, half to you and half to me.  Father squandered 
all of his money and was looking for ways to get to hers when he 
vanished.  Since no one knew if you were alive or dead, she left a 
stipulation that if you did not return within ten years, all of it would 
come to me."

	Titania re-read her aunt's will, asking, "And, the box of 
mementos?"

	Wes stood and hefted the wooden chest he'd brought with him into 
the library, setting it at her feet.  As she leaned forward, opening it 
and inspecting the contents, Wes continued talking.

	"My guess is, Father found out and killed her, then, tried to 
destroy this new will.  It was found, sewn into the hem of the dress she 
died in."

	"How did she die?" Titania pulled out a bundle of letters, and 
smiled, realizing they were from her father to her mother.  

	"She fell down the stairs and broke her neck," Wes replied, 
shortly.  "Twelve hours later, Father disappeared from this room.  No one 
saw anything, heard anything or noticed anything.  All we found were two 
sets of footprints, leading into the woods.  The tracks vanished."

	"So, no one knows if he's even dead?" Titania sat up, holding 
in her hand a slim volume.  She opened it and on the first page, read, 
'Journal'.

	"No," Wes admitted, gazing at the doors through which his father 
had passed and never returned.  He gave Titania a frightening smile and 
said, "How does your Goddess feel about sons who do not honor their 
fathers?" 

	Titania pulled her eyes from the journal to meet the probing 
stare of Weston.  For a moment, she said nothing.

	"The Goddess forgives those who have purity of heart.  No matter 
what the circumstance."

	"My heart isn't so pure," Wes said, his voice low.  Titania felt 
as if the true meaning of his words were just before her, but she 
couldn't quite grasp it.  His stare was unnerving her and yet she 
couldn't break the connection.  Pinned, easily and without trouble, 
Titania was being pulled into a current stronger than she and beyond her 
understanding. 

	*He's not your cousin by blood, you know.* Bishlea's voice piped 
up.  *Keep that in mind.*

	*What difference does that make?*

	Bishlea, born with the knowledge that vastly outweighed her 
rider's, almost sighed.   Titania had been cast out into the Wastelands a 
naive girl and had returned to civilization an equally naive woman.  
Although she understood the facts between male and female--it was the 
whole basis of the religion which worshipped the Mother Goddess--she 
was unschooled in the ritual which went with it.

	*It means, my child, that he desires you.*

	*How do you know?* Titania queried, automatically, recognizing 
with dawning surprise that desire was the emotion she was feeling--making 
her uncomfortably aware of her body.  When she'd entered the house with 
Wes, earlier that day, he'd directed her to her old room, kept in the 
same condition that it had been years before.  She'd only grown a few 
inches, so her clothes had fit her reasonably well.  Servants had come 
and drawn her a bath and fixed her awkward hair cut until she had a sleek 
bob. 

	"The Mother Goddess understands," Titania told Wes, after a 
moment.  "I'm surprised you mention her.  Your father outlawed the old 
religion."

	"Well, I made it legal again.  I believe he had the false 
conception that you worshipped the earth and the sun as idols, instead of 
as the representation of life and the life spark."

	Titania blinked, taken aback.  

	"You know about the Mother Earth and her relationship with Father 
Sun?" 

	Wes smiled, disarmingly, "Yes.  I learned, soon after arriving 
here, about what had happened on the night of the summer solstice.  You 
know, of course, that the women simply returned, on the winter solstice.  
Despite the punishment inflicted by my father and the men in the village, 
the women never gave up.

	"I decided that it was pointless to outlaw it, when it is 
accepted elswhere.  I've learned about it, quite a bit, since my return." 
He offered her a drink, which she refused.  He sipped at the deep red 
liquid, watching her face, illuminated by the fire that burned in the 
fireplace.  

	"I've learned some things, as well."
	
	"Tell me about the Wastelands," he invited, gently, sensing that 
she was far away, in a world of her own.

	"There are no words to describe the Wastelands.  Dawn is like 
watching conception itself: a barren, lifeless ground touched by the 
tenuous sliver of life, rising over the hill, growing and increasing 
until its rays touch everything."

	"Beautiful," he commented, to which she nodded.  Then, recalling 
herself, she stood.  It was an abrupt severing of the moment, which left 
them both reeling a bit.  Wes felt her moving away from him, physically 
and emotionally.

	"I am going to my room.  I'd like to start going through these.  
Tomorrow, Bishlea and I will leave."

	"Don't leave, Anya," Wes implored, standing as well and catching 
her wrist with his hand.  "Please stay."

	*Bishlea?* Titania wavered, reaching out for her dragon, who 
replied, *You will not be happy until you know for certain.  Any life you 
try to start will be shadowed by that fact.*

	Titania sighed, *Thank you, my friend.  What would I do without 
you?* 

	*We'll discuss that in the morning.*

	"I cannot, Wes.  I have to find your father; I have to know if he 
is alive or dead.  Any life I may try to lead will never be what it 
should until I know."

	She waved the journal in the air.

	"This is a start."

			****************

	Curled up in bed, she started the journal and found herself 
embroiled in events which had occured before her lifetime, but which 
shaped the world she'd known.

	"June 12, 2271,

	"...Melissade married Darrin today, it was so lovely!  I can tell
	that my sister loves him and that he adores her.  I remember when
	she first met him: she told me that all of a sudden, it seemed as
	though the world had burst into color...

	"September 23, 2271,

	"...Galvin asked me to marry him today.  It came as a bit of a
	surprise; we'd all thought he loved Melissade.  He admitted to me,
	without my having to ask!, that he'd only pretended to, it was
	easier, he said, to pretend to love her than to admit that he
	really loved me.  He was so sweet...

	"April 3, 2273,

	"...it was a lovely picnic, and so romantic!  Darrin announced to
	the whole village that he and Melissade are expecting their first
	child.  He stood in the sunshine and held out a hand to her, smiling
	in the way that he always did when he looked at her, and, in response
	to Father's blessing for a boy, said, "A boy? Never.  I wish for a
	daughter that might capture her mother's beauty."  Galvin was a bit
	quiet after the announcement.  I wonder if he's feeling ill.

	"April 4, 2273,

	"Oh, sorrow!  Darrin is dead!  On our way home from the picnic his
	horse was startled and it plunged over the cliffs that we had 
	traveled alongside.  Melissade collapsed.  I am now keeping vigil
	next to her bed.  I cannot be certain, but I'm sure I saw an arrow
	striking the horse's flank!  Someone killed Darrin.  I will not tell
	Melissade, however.  It would be too cruel."

	Titania wiped the tears from her eyes.  Her father, Darrin, 
murdered on a day which should have been filled with joy.  Why hadn't 
Eleanor said something?  As she read more, Titania found more than 
suspicions of murder.

	The months following Darrin's death were filled with observations 
on Eleanor's behalf of Melissade, who both mourned her husband and 
cherished her child.  Titania felt strange, reading about herself before 
she was born.  It was almost like going back in time.

	The strangest passage struck her as chilling and she read it four 
times. 

	"August 27, 2273,

	"...Galvin's eyes watch her.  They're like slaves, following her
	everywhere she goes.  He never loved me.  Only Melissade.  And,
	she, she feels nothing but sorrow for Darrin.  I cannot hate her,
	or be jealous because she unwittingly has his affection.  I don't
	want it and I'm afraid for Melissade and her child...

	"September 5, 2273,

	"Titania Hestiani was born today.  Melissade is dead.  

	"Februrary 14, 2278,

	"I have grown accustomed to Galvin's fits of temper.  I have even
	learned to ignore the pain of the blows and pretend that I am 
	elsewhere.  However, last night, I felt true fear for the first 
	time since Anya came to live with us.

	"I awoke out of a dream, feeling nauseous and frightened.  I thought,
	for a brief moment, that I saw Melissade standing at the bottom of
	my bed.  She was begging me to go to Anya.  Unable to shake this
	feeling, I got out of bed and went to the nursery.

	"Galvin was standing over the child's bed, staring down at her.  For
	some unaccountable reason, I knew he was going to kill her.  I rushed
	forward and scooped her up, asking Galvin if he'd been awakened by
	Anya's nightmares, as I had been.  For one moment, I though he would
	attack the both of us.

	"But, Weston, Goddess bless that boy, he is nothing like his father,
	appeared at the door, joining my side and asking if Anya was alright.
	Galvin swore and stormed from the room.  Neither Wes nor I said 
	anything more, but I could see in his eyes a determination.  He
	will protect her when I cannot.

	"Oh, Goddess, watch over this small child.

	"June 22, 2288,

	"Anya is gone.  Banished.  Dead for all I know.  Galvin has finally
	had his revenge on Melissade for loving Darrin and not him.  My
	darling girl, whom I loved more than anything, is gone.
	
	"For the first time, I know what boundlessness hatred is.  I have
	prepared papers for my death.  Galvin will not live to see the
	daylight again.  I confront him on his crimes: murdering Darrin,
	my beloved Melissade and now, an innocent girl.

	"Sebeane has given me advice and I have prayed to the Goddess. If
	I write no more, then, I am dead.  So be it.  Without my Anya, there
	is no reason to continue."

	The last entry.  Titania flipped through the rest of the empty 
pages, searching for more.  But, she knew that her aunt had died, pushed 
down stairs because she had been too loud in her accusations.  Galvin 
killed all them, Titania knew, weeping silently.

	*Your revenge will be for all of them, Anya* Bishlea comforted.

	Titania stood, suddenly, dressing quickly and gathering her 
things.  She'd collected the sword she'd practiced with and her arrows.  
Taking only what she couldn't leave behind--the journal, her mother's 
locket and a anklet made of bells that Eleanor used to wear during the 
ceremonies celebrating the Goddess--and headed out to where Bishlea lay, 
sated on the raw meat the terrified men had served.

	Pressing against the warm dragon, Titania cried, feeling comfort 
flowing from Bishlea.  

	*We will find him.*

	They left the village that night, without saying goodbye to 
anyone.  Titania knew that if she faced Wes again, it would be too hard. 

			************
Time: The next morning
Scene: The woods around Tilharnon

	"Sebeane?"

	"I have been waiting for you, child," the old witch said.  Her 
silver hair and silver eyes hadn't faded in the years during Titania's 
absence. 

	"You know why I'm here, then," Titania asked, walking into the 
cottage.  The witch hadn't been at all surprised to see the large dragon 
alighting in front of the house, or the woman she'd thought had died five 
years ago.

	"I can tell you nothing, child.  Eleanor died without my being 
there." 

	"What advice did you give her?" Titania asked, not even bothering 
to press.  Sebeane would tell her only what she wanted to.  It was 
hopeless to try and convince her otherwise.

	"That advice will rest between your aunt and myself."

	Frustrated, Titania hissed out her breath between her teeth.  
*Make the old bat tell!* Bishlea suggested.  *I could fry her eyebrows.*

	*She'd thank you and wouldn't say anything else.  It's 
pointless.* 	

	"I have a gift for you in your search."  The witch presented a 
lightweight leather armor, dyed black.  Titania had never seen such a 
perfect color...which matched the scales on Bishlea.  

	"How did..." She broke off her question, not really wanting to 
know how Sebeane had known.  "Thank you."

	"Good luck, child.  Remember, the truth always surfaces.  It just 
takes time."

			***************

Time: Present
Scene: Whiteriver Warren

	"You stole Bishlea's falcon," Titania accused, without preamble.  
"Haven't you ever learned etiquette?"

	"I apologize for Cricket's...haste.  It is the first chance she's 
had to hunt in a while," Trinale replied, carefully.

	Titania was brought up short.  She hadn't expected an apology so 
readily, nor so sincerely.  

	"Next time, try to control her."

	She spun on her heel, striding back to Bishlea, who snorted out a 
brief burst of flame.  *Well, that was no fun at all.*

	*Tell me.* Titania answered.

	"Wait!" Trinale called, halting Titania's movement.  She swung 
back, tilting her head inquisitively.
	
	"Yes?"

Titania
Dragonrider, warrenless

NRPG:
I promise, not all of my posts will be this long. :)

Kat: Tag, you're it!


|Gwendolyn Brophy       http://www.pitt.edu/~gmbst15    gmbst15+@pitt.edu|
|------------------------------------------------------------------------|
|"No day, no night, no moment can hold me back from trying. One flag, one|
| fall, one falter, I'll find my day may be far and away."  --Enya       |