For a long time after her death, Solange had remained rather absent from the eyes of the Weyr, keeping to herself in her own quiet quarters. She had cried herself to sleep many nights, mourning over Kharua's passing with N'ko, Tsunath, and the family of green firelizards to comfort her. Even little Vigaro remained with her. The little black furred beast was always some where near her, curled into a little ball of fuzz by the goldrider's side, or lapping at those long dark fingers when Solange stared off into nothing. It was for his simply solace that Solange had kept Vigaro's company more than her fussy lot of firelizards, aside from Emma who would cry if kept away from Solange even for a moment.

But Solange had to move on, and prepare herself. With Tsunath due to rise any time, and being the last gold of Atricis, Solange knew very well what was coming. She had never thought herself one to be a Weyrwoman, content with the idea of being a Second or Junior Weyrwoman for the rest of her life. She liked Kharua as her Senior, even if Tsunath despised being beneath the older gold.

But now I have no one above me. It's our turn now, the gold replied, and Solange could almost feel the honey toned chest puff out with pride.

But Solange dreaded it, the very idea of having the weight of the Weyr placed upon her own shoulders nearly making her buckle in moment. She sought the support of the wall right next to her, closing her eyes and attempting to forget what was about to come upon her and Tsunath, and then the weight lifted, and she managed to continue her slow walk into the meeting room.

With Emaliange and Solai in the care of her parents who had come to visit after the travesty to help, Solange was making her way to the meeting room to speak with the man who was Weyrleader before the chaos, S'len. Solange wanted to depend on him as a true Weyrleader, for currently there was neither Weyrwoman or Weyrleader in the Weyr. Everything was chaos, a tumult so great and emotions so broken that madness lead to the attack on Ione. Solange protest the capture of the Lord Holder, crying out that he be released, but her voice was ignored, and he was held.

She was not Weyrwoman yet, some snarled in reminder to her. Even as she cried out they had no true proof to hold him, only emotions and speculation, no one listened, not to a single word she said. This was not right, this was not their place to hold him, and to do so only made the situation worse between the Weyrs and the Holds. Solange was almost positive this would end in disaster.

This was why she needed to talk to S'len. He was a part of that attack, part of the reason the Lord was now in their dungeon. If she could show him how wrong this all was... then maybe, maybe he could help her talk some sense into the rest of the Weyr. It was her one last hope that perhaps some semblance of sanity could be restored before she had to take on this mutiny that was not Atricis.

She entered into the still Meeting Hall, uncovering one of the glow baskets to light up the room. Seeing those chairs, she recalled where Kharua sat, and the Weyrwoman before her. How did this happen? she thought once more with a tear in her eye when she touched the seat. But she could not cry now. Now she had to show she was ready for this, even though she trembled within at the prospect of it. She had sent her message to S'len, bound to her trusted Prisha. And now she waited for the bronzerider, hoping the green did not via off the path on her way to S'len.

S'len envied those who could keep to themselves in the wake of tragedy, taking their own time to grieve. The deaths of Kharua, R'lon, and several wingriders sat heavily in his heart, but he didn't pause to mourn. With no proper Weyrleader or Weyrwoman, it fell to the Wingleaders to keep everything in order. He had taken over the Weyrleader's former wing and he was now adjusting to new responsibilities as well as a new Wingsecond and riders. Next on the agenda was a meeting with Solange, and he was glad to see her green fire-lizard delivering a message.

He was still in his riding clothes, having just finished a Wing training. Even with political trouble, Thread still fall and the Weyr was more vulnerable than ever after losing some of its best riders. S'len picked up a mug of klah from the kitchen and drank it as he walked to the meeting room. Despite pushing himself to get everything done, he still had his limitations, and the caffeinated drink made everything easier.

The bronzerider was conspicuously devoid of his usual draconic companions. S'len wasn't sure how he attracted so many flitts, and more recently a starlizard, but one or two of his pets were rarely far from his side. Not today, though. He needed to be able to concentrate on his conversation with Solange. They had much to discuss, and he suspected that they wouldn't agree on everything.

He finally strode into the meeting hall and gave Solange a small bow. "Greetings, Goldrider Solange. It's good to see you." He didn't bother asking how she was, because he knew that no one in the Weyr was perfectly all right at the moment.

Solange had been fondling the craftmanship of one of the seats, her long finger drawing over the etching in the wood when S'len arrived. It was Tahar who alerted her, the little green lifting a dainty emerald head to the man just as he sounded down the corridor just beyond them, hissing at the echo of steps that set Solange on edge. She had been tense the last few days, arguing, crying, pacing. She wanted answers, she wanted absolution, but such things skillfully evaded the queenrider.

"S'len," she nodded to the man who had once been a Weyrleader. So much had happened since Kharua and R'lon's death, and now that everything had come to a head, and she was comforted with the one man she felt could do anything about this. Lips pressed together, knowing he had a part in it all. She had heard he was part of the men who went to Ione. The accusation was at the tip of her tongue, which became apparent in the way her brow furrowed and two of the three firelizards hissed at him.

"Why?" she finally dared to ask, the hurt, the fear, and the anger apparent in her tone. "We had no proof... Why did you take the Lord prisoner?" She realized before she could make any demands, she had to understand the reason behind what he felt he had to do.

The Weyrwoman did not seem happy to see him. S'len wasn't surprised, but he hadn't been sure until now if she was going to try and be friendly despite their disagreement, or if she would take a more direct approach. He glanced at the hissing firelizards, momentarily wondering if he should have brought his own. The angry flitts bothered him more than the disapproving look Solange was giving him. He was just too fond of animals.

The neutral smile that he had adopted upon entering the room slipped from his face. It was clear that they weren't going to bother with pleasantries. He sat down slowly, taking a seat near Solange, but not right next to her. "Proof? What good is that, when the Weyr is still in danger? We'll get proof this way, if there is any. If there isn't, the Holders can have their Lord back, with profuse apologies. But if there is something going on, then it's better to have Rhilamos in our custody now, rather than allow him to create more chaos." S'len's tone was calm as he delivered his reasoning for supporting this decision. The actions taken had been brash, but working quickly was necessary, and he didn't regret them. The lost riders, yes, he did regret them, but he would still do it again if he had to.

"I'd do anything to protect this Weyr," he continued, his voice a little more firm now. "Turns ago, when Athira disappeared, I was the one who led the so-called rebellion to appoint a new Weyrwoman. Now, I could have waited around for proof that the Weyrleaders were really gone, but what would have happened to the Weyr in the mean time? Sometimes it's better to act first, and make reparations later. This is also one of those cases. I know we're all hurt and angry about the losses, but we can't let that cloud our judgement." He paused and studied Solange's face, seeing what her reaction to this was. The story would be a gentle (so he hoped) reminder of his experience, as well as an example of why he had chosen the path he did.

Solange heard his explanation, and she felt her heart bleed in sympathy, but she also heard the flaw in his reasoning. "We are emotional, S'len. That's why this shouldn't have happened. I respect your authority, but... We can't hold Rhilamos captive like this. While we have one hold crippled right now, the other two are now going to be waiting to defy us. What's to stop them from turning to Ista or Igen, to have our only other Holds refuse us our tithes, and given them to the other Weyrs for support. We just showed them we act on emotion. You say you didn't... but that is what this was."

She sighed in frustration as her emotions danced somewhere between frustration and helplessness. Fear was another strong emotion she was feeling in that moment, fear that everything would fall if this continued.

"When there was the initial attack against Kharua, we were all certain it was Igen or Ista. And now, we strike Ione because of a hunch? Have you thought maybe we should work on the inside first, try and re-establish our governing body, our leadership first before we made rash decision to attack a Hold, one of our Holds? This is borderline anarchy, and a blatant disregard of the laws in place. They are there for a reason, S'len, and we need to follow them. We have no Weyrwoman, no true Weyrleader. That is where our focus should have been, not bombarding a Hold with attacks because we thought they were the enemy." She felt she was saying nonsense in that moment, for there was so much that was wrong about this running a muck in her mind, charging her words. But despite how it all came out, she still felt it was true. They could not start strife with another governing body until they fixed what was wrong with their own Weyr first.