The White Runnerbeast

Writers: Stasha
Date Posted: 7th March 2008

Characters: Alasha
Description: Alasha has a flash back from her childhood
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 8, day 17 of Turn 4

/Five Turns Earlier- 8.10/ The hearth snapped and roared with a strong warm fire heating the cold cot. Desamin took a glance at the flames that danced in the hearth. He approved, the cotholder noted before he took another puff from his pipe and buried himself back into his hides.

So consumed in his record readings, Desamin did not notice the young Alasha mindfully enter the room. She watched her step-father, wondering if she should disturb him, but she was so excited to tell him. She only hoped her news would show him she finally had the opportunity to make something out of herself. "Desamin?" she graced him with her presence by bowing to him humbly.

The cotholder was slightly annoyed by the bastard girl, but he motioned and allowed her to approach him. "Did your mother want something?" He asked of the eleven turn old girl.

"No," she responded softly.

"They why are you here?"

She hesitated at first. Should she tell him? Yes, she decided, if anything to prove to him she was more than a "wanton's" daughter. "My birthday is in four days," she begun.

Was that why she was here? "And you want something I suppose." Just like a spoiled child, he thought bitterly to himself. She probably thought she deserved it too.

"No," she denied, and she honestly did not want a thing from the man.
She only wanted him to give ear to her words.

"Well," if that was not the case. "Then why do you bother me with your presence?"

"Because I wanted to tell you I'm leaving."

Desamin slowly set the hide down as his eyes settled on her. "And where to?" Though he knew the answer before she said it. She was leaving for...

"The Weyr," she replied.

Her response did not settle well with him. "And who in Faranth's name told you that crackdust?"

"It's not," she hesitated before repeating his word "crackdust." She felt filthy saying it. Her mother always detested those words.

"Don't argue with me girl," he warned. He wanted an answer. "Now, tell me, who told you this?"

Alasha cast her eyes down, no longer wanting to peer into his black glare. Still she had to answer "Papa told me," she replied submissively.

"Now why would he tell you that?"

"Because he said that when I turn twelve I could stand on the hatching grounds."

Desamin chuckled at the girl's delusion. "You? Impress?" How presumptuous of her. "What makes you think you can Impress? Last time I heard, not even that weyrbred brother of your Impressed at the his last hatching."

"He'll Impress," she defended. "Papa said it only takes one time."

"He only told you that so you would feel better when you failed." He would not allow her to leave. "You're staying here."

"No I'm not." Wait, did she just say that? Alasha was shocked at the words that flew so easily out of her mouth. But she did not stop.
"Papa said it's my choice." Besides, "Why do you even care if I go anyway?" He had said it himself. He would have loved nothing more than to finally rid himself of her.

She was walking on egg shells now. Desamin eyed her. He would not tolerate such behavior. "I care every bit as much. Almost as if you were my own daughter." Almost.

"But you always told my mother that you hated me, and that I was worthless."

"Did your mother tell you that?" He would have to have a little talk with that woman later.

"No," but she was afraid that if she told him he would become infuriated with her. But he would ask of the answer, and she could not lie. "I've heard you say it to her before."

Eyes and ears on every wall, just like her mother. He remained silent, his eyes drawing on her emotion. It was the first time he had seen so much determination in the girl, yet still she was pathetic. If she had wanted this so badly she would have looked him in the eye, been a man, but she was a girl, just a little girl in a man's world. Well, she would have to learn that life was never that easy. "Sit down," he commanded of the young girl.

Alasha did not disobey him.

How to say this. He knew the girl would not be happy either way. "When I was a boy, about your age we had several runners that we bred.
Beautiful creatures, those runners, with fur as white as snow, and not a speck of gray on them." Why did he even bother? She probably did not even why he was telling her this. Well, it was a good story, and she could learn from it. "One day my father and I were watching the beasts when we saw that one of them had a odd gait in her stride. Apparently age had caught up with the mare and she had gone lame. Now, normally a lame mare would have been either killed or driven away from the cot, allowing nature to take over, after all lame mares were worthless and a burden if anything." Maybe this was sounding familiar now. "But my father did not see it that way. He thought that he could try and make a final mark off that runner. And he did. He found a man, that loved the mare.
This man saw the mare, not as a lame beast, but as a beautiful runner that she was, and he wanted her to roam free around his own cot. He was willing to pay a solid price for her. So as it turned out my father was right and the lame mare had a worth that most men did not see." Desamin leaned in closer to Alasha. "You are my white mare."

"How am I your white mare?" She did not like where his tale was going.

Was her glow that dim? Still, he knew he would find some joy in spelling out her true future. "When you are old enough I will search for a suitor for you."

"But I don-"

"Alasha!" There would be no more fanciful ideals of weyrs and dragons, no more.

She silenced herself, though tears slowly crept into her eyes.

"When you are old enough," he repeated "I will search for a _suitor_ for you." Or something along those lines. "Now, I may not find a husband, but there will still be some use of you yet, there will be a man who will see this, and you will have value. Now, it will not be nearly as much if you had been my own daughter, but it will pay for the damages you and that wanton caused, and not you nor that coveting father of your, or your mother will get in my way."

"But this is my choice." She would not let him do this to her.

"Then let this be your choice too. Every time your eyes glance at the weyr remember that if you decide to stay there, you can never return, and you will _never_ see your mother again." And he would be sure she stopped sowing these crackdust ideas in the girl's head.

"Never?" What did he mean? Would he "You wouldn't hurt her, would you?"

"I suggest that if you never want to find out, you had better remain in the cothold." And may that be the end to such ridiculous notions.

/Present Turn- 8.17/ After five turns Alasha did not forget Desamin's threat. Even when she was searched two turns later she stayed, she recalling Desamin's intimidating words. She feared for her mother's safety, but still, Alasha could not bare the idea of marrying a man she barely knew, let along be sold to one as a slave. Stuck in the worse of circumstances, Alasha felt helpless. All she could do now was wait, wait for the absolution that she dreaded would come.

Last updated on the March 9th 2008

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The White Runnerbeast