Midnight Awakening

Writers: Stasha
Date Posted: 20th February 2008

Characters: Alasha
Description: Murasha attempts to understand her daughter's decision, while Alasha's flit egg hatches in the dead of night.
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 8, day 4 of Turn 4

The cool night began to settle into the small valley and began to seep into the cothold.

"Soneya," Murasha called to Alasha's nanny. "Please start a fire, but do be careful with the flit egg."

"Yes, Milady," Soneya bowed obediently.

"Oh and Soneya," she caught the servant. "Bring in some left over wherry meat for tonight, and be cautious about letting anyone see you." The last thing Murasha needed as for Desamin to see Soneya carrying a bowl of meat back to Alasha's quarters. He was too good at putting two and two together.

Soneya gave a stealth grin back to Murasha. She was the only servant who knew of Murasha and Alasha's closely guarded secret, and she took pride in that realization. "Of course, Milady," she gave one last bow before she departed from the room.

Once alone Murasha continued brushing through Alasha's long black locks of hair. So soft to the touch, Murasha noted to herself. They did very well in maintaining its beauty.

"Do you think the egg will hatch tonight?" Alasha asked after a long peaceful silence, yet she attempted to hide her impatience.

Murasha glanced at the hearth were the egg laid. "I don't know, but it will be soon, my love." She finished thoroughly combing through a section of hair before she clipped it with the rest of the completed strands.

"Can I go to the Weyr after I Impress the firelizard, so I can show Papa and A'son?"

"Of course you can, you can even stay there if you like," she answered with confidence that Alasha would take her on her offer.

"No," Alasha could not do that. "I'll only visit, but my home is here with you." She pulled away from the brush and turned to look to her mother.

All Murasha could see was the devotion that gazed from her daughter's gray eyes. "But Alasha-"

"No," she denied her mother's wish yet again. "I cannot leave the hold. You know I can do no such thing."

"Alasha," Murasha grasped her daughter's pale white hands. "I don't understand. Why do you keep yourself from fulfilling your dream?"

"I _can't_ do it." Why did they always have to prod her with such questions? Was her answer not clear enough? "Why do you keep bombarding me with this?"

"Because I do not understand how you can keep denying yourself of this!" Murasha turned away from her daughter briefly and chided herself for the outburst. Calm, she reminded herself. A proper lady kept her voice soft, yet controlled. "Alasha, you are nearly seventeen turns old," she continued with a maintained tone as she looked back at her. "You can only stand until your twenty-one. You do not have much time left."

"Mama-" Alasha began, but Soneya came back in with wood and a small bowl of meat.

Soneya caught the tension in the room. "I can comeback another time, if you wish Milady," Soneya bowed and prepared to exit once more.

"That will not be necessary, Soneya," Alasha called to her nanny though her eyes never let Murasha. She gave her mother a glance with her soft eyes. **Please understand and respect my decision** Her eyes begged of her mother. "You may light the hearth," she motioned.

Soneya did not question her young mistress and quickly went to work.

Murasha kept silent as their nanny set the logs in the hearth, yet in her silence she attempted to comprehend how her own daughter could ask of such a request to remain in the cothold. She knew what her daughter wanted, so why not flee for the freedom that she so desired? She could not understand her daughter's demand, however, Murasha recalled a time when she was Alasha's age, and she too had the chance to go to the weyr and stand. How foolish she was to deny that rider's offer! She could not see passed her mother's manipulation that if she failed to remain in the cothold all would suffer. How naive she was, oh how naive! Murasha kept her composure with her daughter and Soneya, her face remaining tranquil even though her mind screamed out her frustrations.

"There," Murasha released the rest of Alasha's hair and watched the strands tumble down her back. Now all she had to do was braid the locks to keep them from tangling over night.

"Miladies, did you want me to keep the dish by the egg?" Soneya asked of the two women.

"Yes," Murasha replied. She inspected the fire. It burned brightly, creating a warmth within the room. She did well, Murasha noted. "That will be all, Soneya."

"Yes Milady." The woman bowed to both of them before she left the room, closing the door behind her.

"There, it is done." Murasha tied the end of the braid. Should she dare ask her daughter now that Soneya had departed? Looking at how she watched the egg intently, Murasha decided to she would hold off on her question, but she eventually wanted an answer. "I'm going to bed now, and I suggest you do the same." She kissed Alasha's forehead. "Sleep well, my love."

Before Murasha could pull back Alasha quickly clung to her mother and embraced her. "I stay for you, Mama," she whispered into her mother's ear with a tear running down her cheek.

Murasha pulled back and looked back to her daughter. No questions needed to be asked. Alasha stayed for Murasha's safety, for fear of what Desamin would do. Both women knew what Alasha was to him.
She was one step closer to another mark that he could add to his fortune. Even if Alasha was worth just that mark, that was all he cared about, and at least he could rid of her once and for all. If Murasha let Alasha go, Murasha would interfere with Desamin's greed, and by the egg who knew what Desamin would do to her if that happened.

"No more questions," Alasha begged of her mother. She could not bare the thought of something happening to her, especially when it could be avoided.

Murasha obeyed her daughter's wish and kissed her forehead one last time. Still, she could not help but think that with such devotion, strength, and honor, she would have been a powerful dragonrider, and she still hoped that Alasha would leave for the weyr. "Goodnight, my love," she wished to her daughter one last time before she exited the room.

Once Murasha departed she finally let the tears stream down her face, allowing them to rob her of her dignity. Her dear precious daughter.
She was throwing her future away because of her, her mother. No, Murasha would not allow her daughter to scum to the same fate as herself. History would not repeat with her daughter.

~*~

Alasha was barely able to sleep. She shifted to her side, her eyes peering to the closed window.

Would her mother understand now, why she did not dare allow herself to remain in the weyr? Alasha did admit that it stung to deprive herself of her dream, but her mother was more important to her than the hope of Impressing, for hope did not guarantee certainty. Yet the hope of standing still haunted her thoughts. She wanted to stand, and on many nights it caused her to cry herself to sleep. Even now she felt the moistness creep into her eyes.

No! She fought the urge to cry. She must remain strong, less she allow the tears to consume her once more. She had to stay strong, though she knew she was so weak. Her emotion was her heel. If there was ever one thing she wished she could change it was to be strong, and not let her emotions get the better of her. It was a flaw she wish she could rid herself of, but it made her who she was. Oh, why did she have to be so frail? Why could she not be more like her mother? Strong, with her head on her shoulders. Yet Alasha was who she was.

She turned to her back, and her eyes gazed up to the fabrics of the canopy that arched over her bed. She did not need the luxory of the cothold, nor did she need Desamin, and the majority of her brothers and sisters, who seemed to hate her as much as her step father. Accept for Nelaso, who she gazed upon with just as much love and respect as she did her brother, A'son. And, she did have more reasons to return to the weyr that had nothing to do with Impressing. Her father's family lived there...

The sound of something scraping on the hearth, diverting Alasha's focus.

The egg!

Alasha shot out of bed and dashed quietly over to the warm hearth.
Indeed the egg was rocking, and violently at that. She feared that the flit would fall to the ground so she repositioned the small egg on the floor. Only the flames from the dieing fire supplied enough light for Alasha to see what was happening. She took the bowl of meat and placed it in her lap as her eyes purposely watched the egg. What if Desamin came in? Her thoughts wondered to the door, but she held such improbable ideas back. He was sleeping as was everyone else in the cothold, she reminded herself and drew her focus back to the egg.

A line drew down the side as the egg began to crack open. Alasha's heart pounded as she watched the egg crack. Not too much meat, she recalled from what her father informed her, less she wanted the little beast to choke.

The shells broke into pieces as the small firelizard freed himself from his cell. He tumbled clumsily to the floor, and cried out at the injustice of his fall. He was hungry! He squawked out demanding food only to have it supplied to him by a large creature. He did not care where it came from, he only wanted it. He ripped savagely into the morsel. It had a odd taste to it, but it was still soft and the juices dribbled down the sides of his mouth.

It tasted so good, but he could eat no more. The small flit had gorged to the point that his belly bulged with his contentment. He looked up at the being who was kind enough to satisfy his hunger. He was appreciative of her, and felt very loving of her. He curled into a ball and snuggled in the crook of her arms. He could not help but deliver soft croons of appreciation as she stroked his eye ridge.

Alasha watched the little flit as he fell asleep. He was a bronze, she realized in amazement as he drifted off. Even in the dim light of the hearth she could she he was a very stark bronze with his hints of yellow gold and browns. Alasha felt her heart rise, and she could not help but cry with joy as she cradled him. The little firelizard adorned her with nothing but love, and loyalty. In that moment she knew that he would not leave her, and she would always be bonded with the little beast.

She carried him back to bed, not fretting over the mess that he left on the floor. All that mattered was that she Impressed him. As he curled at the curve of her neck she could not help but whisper her flit's new name with nothing but admiration. "Goodnight, Zephyr."

At last she could sleep.

Last updated on the February 21st 2008

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Midnight Awakening