SD: 91130.2000
Time: Now

	The rider smiled at the full moon, flinging her arms out to feel
the wind rushing over the smooth surface of the dragon's scales and her
armor.  Her waist-length hair was bound up, but wisps escaped whipping
around her.  *Faster!*

	The dragon chuckled, a loud, barking noise which made the woman
smile even more.  The great black wings pumped even faster and harder,
making the rider laugh.  It was a beautiful night, clear, breezy.  The
stars were diamonds poking through velvet, the land below an indistinct
fabric of occassional mirrors of still water reflecting the endless sky.  

	"Athair, eist!"

	Her voice was lost in the wind, but Titania knew that the spirits
heard her.  They ran with her as she and Bishlea streaked through the
night, heading back to a small haven which had provided a small time of
happiness and belonging.  Ahead of them, growing ever closer, was
Whiteriver.  

	Anya could feel its presence in her mind, almost visible, but she
knew it was a trick of emotions.  For so long, they'd been groundless.
For two days, she'd found something akin to a home.  But, the call of the
athair had pulled her from it.  Even now, as she called out the ancient
words to the spirits who streaked next to her, she was tracking her
father.   

	The clues lead back to the warren which had embraced the wild
rider.  Titania hadn't been very surprised by this.  Her whole system of
beliefs was based on the concept of circles, endless patterns which fold
in on themselves.  It seemed only right that the warren which had gone
before was again in front of her.

	Her father, she sighed, lowering her hands to rest on Bishlea's
scales.  She had no memories of him at all.  He was an shadow-man in her
dreams, faceless and ethereal.  One day, he'd become real.

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

Time: A few weeks prior

	*Will you go in?*

	Titania frowned at the house, worrying her bottom lip.  She knew
she would go in, but, working her way to it.  Bishlea gave her a not-so
gentle nudge with her nose that nearly sent the very tall woman sprawling
in the dirt.  *I'm going, I'm going!*

	Walking up the path, she hesitated only for a fraction of time
before rapping with her knuckles.  The sound of footsteps approaching and
a "Hold on!" shouted cheerily made Titania square her shoulders.  The past
was not dead.  It was walking towards her.

	The door opened, revealing a tiny woman who barely reached
Titania's elbow.  Craning her neck up, the lady squinted into the bright
sunlight, her white hair ruffling in the light breeze.  Titania moved
forward, realizing the sun was at her back, masking her face.

	"Spirits be saved, Melissade?" The woman clutched at the neck of
her dress, falling back against the door.  Shock was written clearly
across her face as she stared at Titania, unmoving.  Confusion was also
warring within her.  The face was an exact image of Melissade, but the
hair was sin-black, not the snow-white which had been her mother's hair.
The small woman tried to reconcile the face with the hair and reached a
shocking conclusion.

	"No, I'm Titania, Melissade's daughter."

	Her hope confirmed, the old woman gave a gasp.  

	"Oh, Gods, we thought you were dead!" The woman suddenly clasped
her hands together, a beam of bright hope dawning across her remarkably
smooth face.  "I'm Maire, your grandmother."

	For a long moment, neither one moved.  Titania was aware that
Maire didn't know what to do, so she opened her arms and said,
"Grandmama." 

	The tiny woman hurled herself at Titania's long frame, clasping
her around the waist tightly.  Sobs of relief flowed from her, while
Titania tried not to crush the frail lady.  A movement in the house behind
her grandmother alerted her, and she picked up her head to watch a man
approaching.
	
	He, unlike the woman, had midnight hair, and he was tall, taller
even than Titania, whose six feet was taller than most.  His eyes were a
startling blue, but now they were alight with wariness.  He raked her with
his gaze, taking in the form of his wife, who was clutching the stranger.  

	"You're Melissade's kin?" He asked, startling his wife, who
released Titania, turned to him and said, "Glennil, this is Titania."

	"Her daughter?" Glennil's sharp gaze settled again on Titania.
Suspicion was heavy there.  He took in the signs which had proven it for
his wife, but said nothing about them. "We were told you were cast into
the Wastelands."

	"I was," Titania said, taking a deep breath.  She stepped to one
side, indicating behind her.  The expanse of the yard which she had been 
blocking was revealed.  Bishlea was standing near the house, flicking
her tail lazily. "I had some help."
	
	"A dragon!" Maire said, stepping back nearer to her husband.  The
two people stared at the dragon, who was enjoying their surprise.

	Bishlea snorted, a small bellow of flame issuing forth.  Wryly,
Titania said, *Nice touch.*

	*Well, they expected it.*

	"Yes.  I found Bish when I was in the Wastelands," Titania said
aloud, turning back to her grandparents.  "We only left the Wastes a few
years ago."

	With a sigh, she said, "It is a long tale.  One which I will tell
you, but right now, there are other things we must attend to."

	Reaching up absently to tug on a free lock of hair, she said, "I'm
here to find my father."

	The two in front of her exchanged a look.  Glennil said, "Come
inside, Titania.  We have much to tell you."

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

	"He didn't die?" Anya echoed, her brow wrinkling in confusion.
Several hours after being escorted inside, she'd told her tale and allowed
them to begin to tell theirs.  She'd remained silent for the most part,
but had been jarred out of her patience when her grandfather said Darrin
hadn't died from falling off of the cliff. "But, why would he stay away?"

	"The fall from the cliff left him with the athair for weeks.  It
took him years to recover his full abilities.  By the time he was able to
walk, speak and write again, he still could not remember who he was.  He
wandered all over the Dragonlands.  It wasn't until your ninth year
that he remembered," Maire told her, dabbing at her eyes.

	"He was ashamed for what he had become and what he had done.  He
stayed away, Anyay, until your fourteenth year," Maire continued.  "It was
the anniversary of his marriage to Melissade that brought him back."

	"He came here first, and we told him that Melissade had died
giving birth to you.  He set off to collect you, Anya, but when he
arrived, he found Eleanor dead, and you banished to the Wastelands.  He
was a day late, Titania.  A day!" Glennil smashed his fist down upon his
knee in agitation, upsetting a cup on a nearby table.  No one noticed it
falling to the floor.

	There was great bitterness there, anger towards Galvin, sorrow for
his son, and regret.  Titania wished she could extend calmnes and
tranquility to her grandfather.  Such emotions would not help her father
in his torment.  Pleaing silently with the Mother to give him the strength
to hold on, she continued forward.

	"Darrin killed my uncle?" Titania asked, feeling her heart
twisting when she realized that she'd missed her father by one day.  24
hours and her whole life would have been different.

	Glennil and Marie again looked at each other.

	"We don't know.  He came here, said that all was lost to him, and
we haven't seen him since.  He wouldn't tell us what had occurred there,
except that you had gone.  We don't even know if Darrin is still alive."
A mother's anguish were clear in those words, although Maire's face was
still smooth.  She still had hope.

	Titania stood and paced the room.  "Did he say anything about the
life he led before he regained his memory?"

	"He mentioned..." Maire hesitated.  "He mentioned a bardwoman.
>From what he said, I'd guessed that he'd fallen in love with her before he
recalled who he was."

	"What happened?" Titania probed, looking at Glennil, who regarded
her steadily.

	"When he remembered Melissade, he felt guilty, as if he had
betrayed her.  He left the bard, without telling her where he was going,
or who he really was.  When he discovered the Melissade was dead, he felt
that he couldn't return to the bard, not after abandoning her."

	Titania nodded, although she really didn't understand.  But, such
was the way of the world, with honor working strangely.  Darrin had felt
that he had betrayed Melissade by loving another, but he also felt he'd
betrayed the other by returning to look for Melissade.  His honor told him
either action was unforgiveable.  She hoped that the years had not torn
away at him, leaving him a shell of a man.

	"Did he tell you the bard's name?  Where she was from? Anything?"
Titania asked, after a moment.

	"I believe I heard him say her name was Anna, once," Maire said,
thoughtfully, lost in her memories.  "But, he never mentioned where she
was or what she looked like."

	"She probably thinks him dead," Anya murmured to herself.  It was
a place to start, anyway.  Her father had vanished ten years ago,
seemingly without a trace.  Titania would make one stop before looking for
the bard, Anna. 

	Hopefully, she'd get more answers.

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

	"Hello, Sebeane."

	The lady with the silver hair didn't pause in her churning, but
continued to hum an ancient song, caught up in the intracies of the
mundane task of butter-making.  When she'd finally reached the end of the
song, she stopped and turned.

	"You finally returned.  It took the truth this long to surface?"
The old lady settled back into her chair, closing her eyes against the
sun.  Titania moved forward and sat down, cross-legged next to Sebeane, on
the ground.

	"My father is alive, Sebeane.  Why didn't you tell me?"

	"You had to find out for yourself, Anya," the witch replied.
"Your father has had his life destroyed, not once, but twice.  But, you
were not ready for the truth when you returned from the Wastes, hungry for
Galvin's blood."

	"Did my father kill Galvin?" Titania asked, not bothering to feel
anger at Sebeane's withholding.  The old witch would never have a feather
ruffled by an outburst.  Anya remembered times during her childhood when
she'd attempting to break the serenity which surrounded the old woman.
But, her understanding of the nature of life, the circle of essence and
the spirit of Ar Neamh left the witch with a calmness that the mere
happenings of life could never impress.  She was witness to the greater
wonders of the universe.  The petty trivalities meant nothing.

	"Many things happened that night, my child.  When you find him, he
will tell you all of it.  As for me, it is not my secret to divulge."

	*Dotty old bitch.  Tell her to give it up or I'll roast her,*
Bishlea said, irritably.  Titania shushed her dragon, eliciting a smile
from Sebeane.  For a moment, Anya was disconcerted, wondering if Sebeane
could read her mind and hear her talking to Bish, but dismissed it.  A
wise-woman she was, but not omnipotent.

	"How can I find him?" Titania pressed, adding to Bishlea, *She'll
tell me what she wants to before I leave.  She works on her own way.*

	For a long while, Sebeane said nothing.  Finally, she said, "A new
love could have saved his soul.  Instead, he felt guilty, as if he'd
betrayed Melissade.  Her name is close to that one.  An unconscious
tribute, perhaps, while he had no waking memories of his wife.

	"Darrin could never reconcile one with the other.  As a
consequence, the bard was hurt.  Even now, she bleeds from the wounds he
and others have inflicted upon her."

	"Whose name" Titania asked, frowning.  She'd understood most of
what Sebean had said, except for that.  Anna wasn't at all close to
Melissade.  What was Sebeane talking about?  It was almost irritating.
Not quite, however.  Titania had had several years to adjust to Sebeane's
odd ways.  

	"It matters not, at this stage.  Find the bard.  Although she does
not know it, only she can lead you to your father."

	Titania tried to find her center, her calm, but it was very hard. 

	"But, where is she?" Titania asked, frustration adding an edge to
her tone.  Bishlea snorted in the background in agreement.  She was
sunning herself in the small meadow a short distance from Sebeane's small
cottage.  It was nestled deep within the wood that surrounded Tilharnon.
The castle wasn't visible at all, although, on still days, the smell of
the kitchens reached Sebeane.  

	Titania hadn't gone to Tilharnon, although she knew that Weston
would have welcomed her.  Briefly, her mind flitted back to that first
night, when they'd met again, no longer children, but a woman and a man.
She'd felt something that had frightened her a bit, so she'd run, just as
she had from Whiteriver.  There was too much unknown and unsolved in her
life to commit to anything else.

	Absently turning her head north, towards Tilharnon, Titania
thought of the days she'd spent at this cottage as a small girl, escaping
the confines of her prison.  If she looked hard enough, she could probably
see lingering traces of her presence here.  It was saddening.

	Sebeane broke into her thoughts.

	"You should start in that place which felt like home.  Your search
begins and ends there."

	"Tilharnon?" Titania asked, although she knew that wasn't what
Sebeane was referring to.  The witch said nothing, her face unreadable.
"Whiteriver."

	"Your feelings serve you well, Anya."

	"What will I find there?" Titania murmured, wondering if she'd be
strong enough to leave this time.  She couldn't stay anywhere.  Not until
Darrin was found.

	"Do chroi, my child."

	Titania sighed.  It was the answer which said nothing, and yet,
said everything.  'Your heart.'

	"Mo chroi, my mother."

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

Time: Now

	*I can hear the dragons,* Bishlea said, picking up some speed.
She well remembered her last flight with Fayloth.  The short time in
Whiteriver had proved quite entertaining.  She would have been happy to
stay, if it would have been the same for her rider.  But, she knew that
Titania would have been looking at far-off horizons within a week.

	*So can I,* Titania replied, straightening.  *Now or never.*

	Dragons trumpted around them.  Riders she did not recognize were
flying near.  Ignoring them, Titania squinted, trying to see the warren
better.  Their escorts did not land with them, although with the group who
came to greet them, it didn't matter.

	Jumping from Bishlea, Titania looked around and spied the man who
had made her feel very welcome the last time she had been in Whiteriver.
*He is too handsome, by far,* she thought, to which Bishlea replied,
*There is no such thing as too handsome.*

	"Titania?"

	Titania walked up to Saul, who was gaping at her.  She grinned at
him, and nodded.  Arching an eyebrow, she asked, tartly, "Want to welcome
me the same way you did last time?"

	He laughed and seemed about to say something before her attention
was sharply caught and dragged away.

	A poignant feeling overcame her, making her stiffen with
awareness.  Unconsciously, her hand went to the long bow strapped on her
shoulder.  A shiver climbed up her back and she knew, without turning, who
it would be.  She did anyway, inclining her head to meet the level gaze of
the junior queenrider, whose blue-black hair matched her own perfectly.
*She is the key to this, Bish.*

	*But, how?* The dragon asked, having felt the frisson of
awareness which overtook her rider.  

	*I don't know.  We'll find out soon enough.*


Titania Hestiani
Warrenless Dragonrider

Bishlea
Warrenless Dragon





|Gwendolyn Brophy       http://www.pitt.edu/~gmbst15    gmbst15+@pitt.edu|
|------------------------------------------------------------------------|
|"Should I try to be a straight 'A' student? 'If you are, then you think |
| too much.'"--It's Still Rock n' Roll To Me, Billy Joel                 |