Uma Sings "The Ballad of Alath and Malgra"

Uma traipses lightly into the huge cavern, taking a look around as she shoulders her gitar. With a bright smile toward a cluster of kitchen women over toward the back, she heads on over to the klah pot for the usual ritual. On her way, she catches one young woman staring at her rather boldly, and does a slight, wry bow before catching up a mug and exchanging a pert good-afternoon with Sandia.

Madelynda sighs, mopping moisture from her brow as she comes in from the warmth of the bowl. Making her way towards the klah pot, she stops as she hears another go through the entrance to the bowl, and smiles brightly as she spies the signature tunic of the Harper and knot of the Journeyman. "Good day, harper. May I get..." She stops mid-sentence as the woman beats her to what must have originally been an offer of klah, and grins.

Uma laughs cheerily, adding a generous dollop of cream to her klah mug before moving aside so that the young Rider can get her own klah, "Good day to you, Weyrling." Her bright eyes have already perused the young woman's knot, "And greetings from the Harper Hall." Turning toward Madelynda slightly, she takes a sip of the perrrrrfect klah and lets out a small sigh of pleasure before remarking with a twinkling eye, "You look rather all done in for so early in the day."

Madelynda keeps her eyes on the journeyman as she moves forward to get her own mug of klah, and grins. "Ista's duties," she suddenly remembers to say, and flushes a little as she pours the hot liquid into a mug and adds sugar and cream. "'Tis early, yes; but I've already done a rope drill, smashed 'stone, and oiled Phediath today..." She smiles sheepishly. "But such is the life of a weyrling. I'm Madelynda, by the by."

Uma shakes her head, clucking lightly to herself as she guards her klah mug from any over-generous movement with a balancing hand. "They sure do run the weyrlings ragged around here, don't they?" she remarks sympathetically. Then, in response to the introduction, she frees up one hand, extending it toward the young woman palm down in the traditional manner. "Journeyman Uma, and I'm pleased to meet you, Madelynda." A warm smile, and another, approving glance to the goldrider's knot, "I've heard some very good things about you, I do believe, though Ista's dragons always do choose the best, so that's not particularly remarkable." Her eyes dance with good humor as she scans the young woman's face with an interested eye.

Madelynda grins widely at the journeyman, eyes sparkling as she quickly switches the mug from right to left and takes the proffered hand with a firm grasp. "Well met, Journeyman Uma. My lifemate is the wiser of the partnership, and if it weren't for her I was to be in the Harper Craft myself. Of course, they always say the human is biased for love of the dragon. Thank ye, though, for the compliment." Taking an experimental sip from her mug, she nods toward a nearby table. "But what a terrible hostess I am--please sit down, if you can stay awhile?"

Uma snorts at that, observing teasingly, "The common wisdom, yes, is that the dragon -is- the riding pair's better half." A grin and a wink to prove the comment a tease, then a glance toward the indicated table, "Sitting is a good thing, especially after the rough ride here."

Uma laughs as she takes a seat at the table, setting her mug down before unshouldering her gitar and setting it carefully on a bench beside her, "I swear, that Darieth tries to unseat me every time, and probably at Anise's urging."

Madelynda flushes a little at the harper's comment, a nervous swallow betraying her desire to please, but grins again as Uma's wink conveys her intent. Settling down across from her, eyes lingering on the gitar, Madelynda takes another careful sip and smiles. "Your ride was rough? The winds here are difficult to manage, as I've recently learned myself," she says with a chuckle, rubbing her lower back with her free hand as if to illustrate this point. "What gives us the pleasure of your visit?" she asks eagerly, as if harpers were a very welcome sight to her eyes.

Uma chuckles ruefully, nodding, "I ought to remember to find some old, fat rider to give me a lift, but I always seem to need to be at Ista when there's only Anise and Darieth around to do the favor, and -that- old Blue and I have had a running bet for Turns." She grins and leans forward across the table, "Aye, Ista's probably got the worst of it, barring the Reaches, for difficult winds." Her hands cup the mug as she inhales the fragrant steam, closing her eyes for a moment in satisfied please before taking another draught. "Oh, that's good!" She glances over her shoulder and calls out toward the kitchen rather saucily, "I see you still haven't managed to completely ruin the klah, yet, Sandia." The older woman harumphs, swatting a towel toward the Harper her only response.

Uma grins and turns back to Madelynda, "As to why I'm here, just checking up on the old weyrwoman to make sure she's not completely buried herself in her record hides again." Another twinkle flashes from her eyes, "And, of course, to visit my niece and nephew and to scare the heck out of their father."

Madelynda giggles cautiously at the exchange between Harper and Sandia, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. She stares down into the mug pensively before taking another drink of it, apparently wary to offer her own compliment to the towel-swatting cook. At the harper's second comment, she looks up and blinks, her curiosity getting the best of her tongue. "Your niece and nephew, and their father? You've family here?" Puzzled, she seems to search her brain for connections between the harper and the people of the Weyr.

Uma laughs at the young rider's confusion, nodding, "Oh, aye. Sorry as it makes me to admit it sometimes, Germaine and I are sisters, and that makes Araine and Gelenin, those two little rascals, my niece and nephew."

Uma gives a mischievous look, "Now -they- are closer to my nature than Germaine ever will be. Two scamps. They'll make good harpers when they grow up."

Madelynda's eyes widen happily, a large grin the result of the harper's explanation. "Oh! Yes! Uma...the actress! Of course..." She gazes at the woman unabashedly, fascinated. With another giggle, she adds, "I can see the resemblance, a little. And Araine and Gelenin are lovely, curious and energetic 'scamps' though they may be!" Quickly, she explains, "I was a nanny here before I was a weyrling, you see, so..." She lets her smile and a shrug say the rest, her hands wrapping around the hot mug.

Uma grins appreciatively at the young rider, then asks, "And how are things going with your training? That nasty old G'fen hasn't dulled your spirit too much, I hope?"

Madelynda smiles faintly, eyes dancing as she obviously searches for the polite and proper way to phrase her answer. "The training has been excellent; all of the weyrlingmasters have, I hope, drilled us into being potent protectors of Pern. As for G'fen--" She glances up to the harper, a look in her eyes hopeful that she's found a kindred spirit, "he has not been overly harsh in his lessons."

Uma chuckles knowingly, slapping a hand lightly on the table top and leaning back in her chair. "I see you're politic and diplomatic, just as a goldrider should be." Her glance rests momentarily upon her gitar as she settles back, "Hmmm....At what point are you in your training? What is your next lesson?"

Madelynda smiles, eyes following the harper's gaze to the gitar, and eagerly answers, "We have been taken -between- to Red Butte. That was the most recent milestone. Phediath--my lifemate--found it wonderfully beautiful, as did I." After another sip from her mug, she muses, "We do rope drills and rope drills and rope drills...but this week, there are rumors among the weyrlings that we are to have...uhm..." She frowns slightly, eyes casting timidly about as she leans a bit forward and says in a low voice, "...a lecture about mating flights." Her pinched expression suggests that this is not a lesson she's looking forward to.

Through this litany, the harper nods approvingly. Once Madelynda mentions mating flights, her brow arches slightly, sharp eyes taking in the weyrling's nervousness. A nod: "Yes, I suppose that is one of the more important aspects, particularly for you." Her eyes cast back toward her gitar, and she comments almost absently, "There's a song about that, but it's not got a very pleasant ending." Glancing back to the weyrling, she studies the young woman's face intently for a moment before asking, "I don't suppose you'd like to hear it?"

Madelynda tilts her head, motionless as she listens to the harper, and sighs. "It's unbecoming for me to worry, I know, but..." She shrugs again, hands taut around the mug that's gone untouched for awhile now. A soft smile appears on her face, though, and she nods at the harper's offer. "I would be honored to hear it. Perhaps it will help--or hearten--me."

Uma smiles wryly, reaching for her instrument as she scoots her chair back and settles the gitar on her lap, "I don't know that it will hearten, particularly. But it is a true story, and like all true stories, holds lessons within it."

Madelynda's features tense slightly, but she nods and watches carefully as the harper takes out her instrument, examining the gitar with a curious eye. "Aye...Harper songs, to me, are as important to learn from as drill upon drill. I've a mind that takes better to the songs than the weyrling lessons, sometimes." Watchful, she leans forward and puts one elbow on the table, setting her chin in her hand.

Tamma walks in from the bowl.

Tamma ambles in, hands in the pockets of her flight jacket, which is thrown over her arms probably more just because it's a convenient place to keep it than for any actual need.

Uma gives the young woman a considering look as she lets her fingers strum across her gitar's strings, testing its tuning. She turns one of knobs, adjusting a *Between*-strained g-string. Catching the sound of footsteps closing in over the ambient noise, she glances up and lets her fingers pause as she darts a rakish and welcoming smile toward Tamma. Her hands still, the gitar going slack against her torso, "Tamma! Come join us!"

Madelynda glances over from her position where she sits at a table across from the harper, removing her hand from her klah mug to give the entering wingsecond a weyrling's salute before turning back to focus on the harper.

Tamma turns her head at the sound of her name, looks around for a moment, then catches sight of Uma and matches face to voice, and flashes her a bright smile. "Hey there. Been a long time since I've seen you." Then, noting Madelynda's presence, adds, "Either of you." She ambles towards them, scooping up a redfruit from a bowl on her way. "Sounds like a song on the way?"

Uma winks conspiratorially to Tamma, "Was just about to scare the leathers off your weyrling here." She handles the gitar again, then asks the greenrider, "You've heard the Ballad of Alath and Malgra before, haven't you?"

Irin enters from the narrow corridor.

Madelynda's brow furrows tightly at the mention of the ballad's name, as if certain she should remember it--perhaps she has a harper in her own family--but by her expression, her mind seems a blank. Eyes on Uma, she quietly waits, cradling her chin in her hand.

Irin wanders in, hand rifling absent-mindedly through her hair. "H'lo." she greets quietly, and then to help herself wake up, she snags a mug of chilled juice and settles into a seat.

Tamma's eyes widen and her voice drops to an awed, "Ohhhhhh. Of course I have. I think it was one of my mother's favorites, she hummed it a lot. I never knew the words till I came to Ista. Are you singing it?" Tamma draws out a chair beside Madelynda as she speaks.

Uma sends a warm smile to Irin past Tamma's shoulder before strumming experimentally once more, then noting, "This song was written Turns ago by Master Betanni, and it's got to be one of the best ever written, I'd say." Her eyes trail back to Madelynda, warm and perhaps a little sad. "As I said, it's based on a true story, one well remembered, if one people would wish to forget." With that, she nods to Tamma, then begins a quiet tune.

Gold Alath was a gentle beast,

As bright as sunshine on the sea

Who lived in Benden, in the East,

And loved her Malgra perfectly.

Malgra loved Rakashath's B'ren

But they who ride Golds understand

There is no choice at mating-time--

They bed the winning Dragon's man.

B'ren's love for Malgra was complete,

He swore his Bronze would fly Alath

He knew no other male could meet

The strength and speed of Rakashath.

Uma changes to a dark minor key for this next verse, then reverts to the lighter, happier key.

But R'vorel, who rode a Brown

Who lusted after Malgra's bed

A man who was not honor-bound,

Avowed to win the Queen instead.

Her virgin flight, the Gold glowed bright,

Her rider fought to keep control;

She leapt aloft with graceful might,

And soared above the Benden bowl.

You might almost picture the young, athletic Queen Dragon taunting and teasing her would-be mates as Uma continues....

Great Bronze Rakashath led the pack

The first to leave the trampled grounds,

And in his wake there streamed back

The Bronzes and the smaller Browns.

The flight went on, a few dropped, spent

Who could not match her burning speed;

Rakashath followed, power lent

By B'ren's love and mating-need.

Uma changes the tempo to a much faster, harsher sound. Her voice takes on a certain urgency as the conflict approaches....

When Alath turned her head to see

Who followed close upon her trail,

The moment came of treachery! A

bove her head a rutting male!

From in *between* appeared a Brown,

Afresh into the mating-flight

Who had not been upon the ground;

Who had not earned the mating Right.

Brown Paschth was close above her head!

Gold Alath tried to flee and failed.

His every move deliberate

To foul her wings; entwine her tail.

Uma turns her attention now to what the people on the ground below were experiencing....

R'vorel laughed, an ugly sound

And leering, pulled her toward her Weyr

Distracting Malgra from her bond

With Golden Alath in the air.

Uma cuts back to the Dragons' passion in the air!

The Bronzes roared! Rakashath strove

To intervene between the two,

His rage unleashed, the great Bronze dove

To give the scheming Brown his due!

In panic, Alath went *between*

The Bronzes, stunned, all sought to find.

The Dragons voiced her Dying-keen,

As blackness swallowed up her mind.

Uma looks very sober. The music becomes muted now, sorrowful and slow....

B'ren burst in upon them then,

Pulled Malgra from R'vorel's clutch.

But no man's love could stop the end,

And save this one he loved so much.

The woman gave a hopeless start,

Rakashath's rider held her close;

And Malgra died of broken heart

To follow whom she loved the most.

Rakashath gave an anguished cry,

And on the ground, B'ren's grief was so

He held the body--hours went by--

Ere they could make him let her go.

Uma bows her head as the lyrics play themselves out. The music tinkles on, sad, low notes that carry to the far end of the room. Finally, the music comes to an end, and the harper is silent.

Her hand covering her mouth now, shifted from its original and lucid position beneath the weyrling's chin, Madelynda sighs quietly where she sits, eyes glistening as they stare at the harper's hand where it rests on the gitar.

The only sound from Tamma is that of her chewing on redfruit. Then, after a moment, she sighs, "Good song."

Irin blinks. That's another way to wake up in the morning. The corners of her lips tilt upwards, "Well sung."

Uma smiles faintly, sending a sympathetic look toward Madelynda before nodding thanks to Tamma and Irin. "I realize it's not the most cheerful of tunes, but it does offer a lot to think over."

Madelynda swallows and finally, her eyes flicker up to the harper's face as the other two listeners offer their compliments. "Aye, well...sung," she manages, attempting a small smile. "And a good lesson, one I shall remember."

Uma's keen eyes travel back to the weyrling, but her question is addressed to Tamma and Irin, "Have you ever known a rider to forget herself like that?"

Irin doesn't choke on her drink. Nope. An eyebrow raises towards the harper, "Forget herself?" attempting a stab at sounding clueless.

Obviously interested in their answers, Madelynda shifts in her seat to look at Tamma and Irin as Uma awaits their responses.

Tamma turns her redfruit around in her hand, shifting it to get at an unbitten part of the fruit in order to minimize mess, as she shakes her head, turning her own eyes towards Madelynda.

G'rel walks in from the bowl.

Uma nods to Irin, remarking gently, "It was Malgra who lost control of her lifemate, you see, that brought about the sad ending."

G'rel enters the cavern, whisling. He looks happy enough - even more so that usual. He flicks a quick waves to everyone in general, then innocently walks to the klah pot.

Madelynda nods slowly, averting her eyes as Tamma returns her look. Swallowing, she says softly, "Aye. It is one thing the 'masters always tell me: I must learn to control her, whether it be during a mating flight, a Threadfall, or..." Her mouth twitches a little in a kind of half-smile, "...when she wants to do something silly, like sticking her head into the living cavern."

Uma glances up, an irrepressible spark of deviltry returning to her eye as she meets the bronzerider's gaze. Smiling a bit more broadly to the other three women, she relaxes slightly, and leans back in her chair, gitar still cradled in her lap. "Hullo, G'rel," she calls out.

Irin considers this, musing into her mug of juice. After a small sip, and a wipe of her lips with the back of her hand, she replies, "I've not known any riders to do that." she inclines her head towards Uma, "Heard them told by harpers, as yourself, but never..known one." her chin lifts questioningly.

Tamma turns her head to glance over her shoulder at G'rel. "Hey there, boss."

As Uma greets the bronzerider, Madelynda quickly turns in her seat and gives G'rel a sharp salute, appending a firm--if voice-faltering--"Good day, sir."

G'rel gives a mock-frown to Tamma, then turns to Maddy, and returns the salute. He walks to the group, a mud of klah in his hand. "Madelynda... how are Phediath and you?" he inquires jovially.

Uma glances back to Irin and nods, "I haven't, either, not in my time, but it does happen." Her eyes move sidelong toward Madelynda and Tamma once more. "The danger is always there," she comments quietly. A sudden change of mood, and she harumphs at G'rel, "Only interested in the female riders, I see." She rolls her eyes and says in a deploring tone, "Bronzeriders."

Irin laughs, Uma's last words lightening her own mood. "Bronzeriders will always remain bronzeriders." she remarks, leaning back into her chair, "Afternoon." she calls in greeting towards G'rel.

G'rel sits next to Uma, and, suprisingly enough, gives her a quick hug across the shoulders. Then turns to the harper and winks. Finally, he looks at the goldrider, waiting for the answer.

Madelynda blinks up at G'rel, as if surprised that he would completely bypass every other person in the living cavern just to speak to her. Her hesistant and broken answer is indicative of this shock. "I...uhm...that is, Phediath...is...well? Sir?" Her voice rises at the end, as if unsure whether this would be the answer he was looking for, and forces her arm down as it starts to instinctively salute again.

Tamma lifts her shoulders in a shrug to Uma, as if to agree with her, then leans back in her chair, propping her feet against the edge of the table as she takes another bite out of her redfruit.

Uma's smile is easy as she accepts the bronzerider's hug, and she busies herself for a moment with settling her gitar back down on the bench behind her.

G'rel looks at Irin, and nods a greeting back. He arches an eyebrow at Madelynda. He didn't manage to scare /this/ goldrider off already? "Good to hear that." he answers, smiling encouragingly. He takes the seat firmly. "Good to hear. I hear she's flying already?" -- "Tamma, this reminds me. Meet me later for the sweep. Over the path of the tomorrow's Threadfall."

Uma props one of her own feet up against the table's edge, then lightly taps the sole of Tamma's boot with her toe. "You're being far too quiet for my comfort...What's gotten into you, lately?" A wink in G'rel's direction, "Been falling for this guy's talk of duty and Fall patterns?"

Tamma turns the redfruit in her hands again lazily. She didn't miss the mock frown she got just a few minutes ago; it's like she's determined to be as annoying as possible. "Sure thing, boss." She raises her eyes to look at Madelynda for a few moments, then turns her gaze to Uma to grin at her. "I can't keep my mouth shut now and then?"

Irin smirks, rising to her feet. She makes her way to the serving table, diverting her path momentarily to speak with Sandia. Gossip catch up and all.

Uma murmurs an aside to Madelynda, almost idly, "Don't let him..." Her chin lifts in G'rel's direction, "...get you too convinced of his authority." She chuckles to Tamma, then calls out to Irin, "See you later!"

Madelynda's eyes dance from G'rel to Tamma as she tries to keep up with the exchanges, and finally answers, "Aye, sir, she flies. She especially liked the weyrlings' first trip far -between-, to Red Butte. Sir." Remembering her manners, she tears her gaze from the bronzerider to offer a tentative grin to Uma. "The -Ballad of Moreta's Ride- describes it well," she says as she is reminded of the butte.

Uma nods to Madelynda, pleased at her mentioning another of the harpers' teaching ballads.

G'rel chuckles to Uma, whapping her arm lightly, then jsut shakes his head. "Tamma is never this quiet, really. She must be thinking about something..." He turns to Madelynda, "Yes... Such a tragic one, too..." he notes. He knows the ballads, after all. Mostly.

Tamma just grins quietly over her redfruit, then remarks, "Seems a lot of the songs about goldriders I hear are sad ones. Moreta, Malgra... Lessa's had a happy ending, but..." she shrugs.

Madelynda, shifting fairly uncomfortably in her chair, almost succeeds in knocking her klah over as her knees hit one of the table's legs. Quickly, she reaches her hands out to steady it, flashing a timid smile to those present.

Shast enters from the narrow corridor.

Shast strides in slowly as if exhausted and heads towards the serving table not even taking a moment to survey the room as he usually does.

Yazric enters from the narrow corridor.

Madelynda moves her gaze to the lower caverns' entrance as Shast enters, watching him as he moves to the serving table, as if uncertain where to put her eyes just now.

Irin converses a bit with Sandia and then, with her newly acquired plate of food, finds her way back to her seat.

Yazric wanders in, glancing around to everyone in the cavern.

Shast takes a plateful of tubers and rolls with a large mug of klah, he stays there for a while, thinking about something.

Madelynda sees Yazric's entrance and Irin's return, and grins to each by way of greeting before looking deep into her klah mug. Suddenly, she whispers urgently, "Stop that!" The inward look of her eyes suggests the whisper may have been directed to her lifemate, and as if just realizing that she's said something, she looks up and around apologetically.

G'rel's attention is attracted to Madelynda after her reaction. He has no reason to connect it to anything he said. So he is outright helpful. "Careful with that juice." He takes a towel and offers it to her. "There. Hard to keep an attention for a weyrling..."

Shast finally turns and look around the room, upon catching sight of Madelynda he smiles and walks towards her. He sits his tray down and as he is about to sit he jerks up and takes another glance around the area. "Phew," He says as he wipes his forehead to emphisize, "Don't tell Merien." He says quietly to Madelynda before sitting down.

Madelynda looks up to G'rel, carefully taking the proffered towel, and says, "Thank you, sir. I'm very sorry." This is said as if it were the default answer in any uncomfortable, weyrling-related situation. Quickly, she begins to mop up the spilled liquid, and grins a little as Shast sits down next to her.

G'rel chuckles, shaking his head. "Sorry for what?" he asks incredulously. "Happens to everyone."

Yazric settles into a chair with a quiet sigh, watching Maddy absently.

Uma gives both Madelynda and Shast a curious look as she grasps her now-cooled klah mug and takes a drink. "People are kind of jumpy around here today, I've noticed." To G'rel, as though he'd be the expert on this, "What? Someone glowing tonight?"

Uma gives Yazric a warm smile of greeting as he settles. "My, my, but you are getting tall since the last time I saw you!"

Shast says "Why don't I help you with that," and then frantically trys to find a towel on himself but fails. "Oh, er... sorry." He says throwing up his hands.

Yazric smiles softly to Uma and nods, "No one at Benden recognized me."

At Uma's mention of glowing, Madelynda almost jumps out of her seat, sending the table to rocking again. Urgently, she reaches out to steady it, opens her mouth as if to apologize, but doesn't voice the phrase as she remember's G'rel's comment, accompanied with a chuckle though it might have been.

G'rel glances at Uma, "Glowing? Why, Harper, I'd think you're hunting for another ballad about dragon flights." He shrugs, lightly, answering the question, "Not in the next few days, as far as Keth can tell, but I'gal's green is irritable lately."

G'rel turns to Madelynda again, arching an eyebrow. "Phediath is pestering you again?" he asks matter of factly.

Uma snorts to G'rel, leaning forward to let her mug rest upon the table again and giving Madelynda an encouraging look. Turning back to Yazric, she grins broadly, "Now, I'd definitely believe that!" Her eyes shift toward Shast, measuringly, as she inquires in a pleasant voice, "I don't think we've met, actually. I'm Uma."

Madelynda looks up at the bronzerider, a look of relief in her eyes at the thought that /that/ is what he thought she was reacting to, and nods fervently. "Yes, sir. I shall...um...go tend to her." Yes, by her expression that seems to her to be a brilliant idea for an exit. Careful--this time--not to bump anything wooden, she quickly slithers out of her seat, salutes the appropriate riders, and hurries out to the bowl, leaving her mug behind thoughtlessly.

Madelynda walks outside, into the bowl.

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