BACK

Though they waited, interminably it seemed, for those eggs to hatch... It was not to be. With a strange sadness in their hearts, the trio was taken back to Dragonhope - directed by K'roohan and his brown, who carried Cethian, and with Basth carefully following with his rider and Mruna upon his blue back.

Their flitters seemed to also be rather sedate, when they reached Dragonhope again. Little brown Cling was no longer little, but he did still live up to his name. He had buried himself in Mruna's hair, typically undoing it from the bun she liked to wear. She let her hair down, it seemed she'd need the warmth back here in the tall cliffside Weyr.

They said little, though B'styn needed to arrange his new lodgings and was pretty pleased with himself for having a weyr to himself. It would be better, he mused, if the girls had Impressed and got their own nearby. The girls came to his weyr, listlessly helping him move what little he had into place.

"It seems like we spent so long there," Mruna said, her voice subdued. "I mean, obviously, long enough for your lovely boy to grow enough to fly and go between."

"Long enough to watch eggs die," Cethian said, slightly bitterly.

"It surprised me too," said a half-familiar voice at the weyr's arched entry. It was the dall, darkly handsome Weyrleader S'xon. The trio attempted to come to attention but he waved that off. "We really don't know what happened, over there. But... Worse has been known to happen."

The looks of pure shock caused the long-haired man to flicker a smirk. "At least the place still exists. Some... just vanish."

"That... sounds like an old gypsy tale made to keep people away from Weyrs," B'styn said.

"Who says I'm not an old gypsy?" S'xon let his smirk broaden. It flattened a few moments later. "Look, get settled in, and we'll... find something. The last thing I want is to see a couple young, perfectly fit candidates not Impressed."

He was just about out the door, when he heard Mruna's stifled sob. His strong shoulders slumped, though there was still the long veil of black hair covering them. He turned, what a dramatic look those yellow-green eyes could give. But they were soft, sad, too.

"Mruna, if it's any consolation, your mother has sent no fewer than sixteen riders in the turn you've been gone."

She looked up, as Cethian chuckled.

"... One for each year?" Mruna said, and finally let herself laugh and cry at the same time. "We were there for so long. There were plenty of eggs. I don't understand."

As B'styn tidied up his riding gear and settled his helmet onto the rack above the harness nearest the ledge, the Weyrleader draped his strong arms over the girls shoulders and snugged them together. It didn't look like they were in any way offended by the familiarity of this man - B'styn had heard plenty of girls talk about how amazing the bronze rider was. It was clear he had a charisma about him, B'styn wondered how many fights he'd started among the ladies of the Weyr.

"When there are eggs, we'll send you to them. Sadly since you're already here, already waited it out - and... For that I apologize, we should have fetched you much sooner - we can't ... head back in time to change the wait."

Mruna narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you?"

"We were fighting," S'xon said, and appeared honest. "We only allow timing between when there's no need for our troops to be elsewhere. The season was pretty intense actually."

"I hope we didn't," Cethian gulped, "lose anyone."

"We did, but that was more ... planned." The Weyrleader knew they were going to ask so he indulged them, as he retracted his arms and let the girls languish without his toned body against theirs. "One of our veteran riders had recently lost his leg, and even though we've got excellent healers here, it wasn't healing well. He wasn't young, his dragon was scarred in the same incident. They were good fighters, they were ready to go out in a blaze of glory."

"I... suppose that's the only good way to do it," Mruna said. "I lost my great-uncle and a cousin to fighting Thread on dragonback."

"Yes, I know, your mother's letters were quite repetitive on that account."

Mruna didn't bother to stifle her laugh at that. "I'm so sorry, at some point she must give up."

"At some point," Cethian said, "she'd be on your sisters about marrying, wouldn't she be?"

Mruna's eye roll was followed by the Weyrleader producing a set of scrolls, her mother's letters, bundled and brought by a flitter. "You'll want to read them, anyway, only about half of them were addressed to my wife and I." He winked and smirked again as he walked toward the door, "do pay close attention to the colorful things she calls us. It's quite entertaining."

***

The girls continued their studies on dragon anatomy and riding tactics, and got more air time from not only B'styn but plenty of other riders. It seemed that many in the Weyr had their hopes pinned on these two girls, for whatever reason.

It turned out to be fairly simple: there hadn't been new dragons brought to the Weyr in quite some time. Though the queens had laid a few clutches, they were mainly small and almost all of them producing greens and blues. Perhaps Threadfall was ending, perhaps it was getting worse, they didn't really know the theory behind how a queen's clutch responded to the needs around the Weyr.

B'styn and Basth had joined the Weyr's Tariqa Raja wing - the Weyrleader's wing - and flew boldly the next two nearby Falls. It seemed that the blue took his rider's instinct for motion into three dimensions, weaving expertly around clumps of Thread until he could reach the best angle to burn it. He'd been on a lesser-ranked wing, but after seeing how long the dragon could maintain his flight, as well as how he conserved his firestone use, the Weyrleader determined the best place for a sturdy fighter like that would be on his own dragon's tail. It challenged the bigger dragons, certainly, to see such an upstart among them doing so well. They wouldn't risk themselves in showing off, but they certainly did challenge each other during times without Fall!

But life in the Weyr was still chill and slightly sad for the girls. Cethian and Mruna diligently studied, Mruna's knack for organization lent her to the Weyrwoman's side more than once to make sure that duties got delegated properly. Cethian noted well that there were more than half a dozen queen riders to do those tasks, but she chose Mruna. Not out of pity, that wasn't even in question. But more because the true tests were yet to come.

Cethian herself spent as much time as she could helping with outdoor duties. Riding with the Weyr's scouts on longer distance flights, she wrote notes and drew maps, sometimes being deposited in a remote location to have an overnight camp and enjoy the wilderness. She wasn't the 'camping out' type, though, so much as she wanted to keep herself from going stir crazy within the admittedly-beautiful Weyr.

Best, she claimed, to keep it fresh and be able to appreciate it for its protection and style, than to get so tired of it that she wanted to leave.

That neither of them could imagine leaving was obvious.

Eventually, during a blustery Spring that kept turning back into Winter, the Weyrleaders informed the girls that there was in fact a new clutch somewhere. They hadn't heard of the place, it was either new or tucked away. Or perhaps, they pondered heedless of the girls confusion on the matter, perhaps it was outside of their normal time-line. Whatever that meant, it had one effect.

The girls packed so fast the Weyrleaders were practically not even finished laughing at their own last joke. Weyrwoman Kira reached up to her husband's chin and closed his open mouth, "you take them. They like snuggling up with you or so I've heard."

"You know she does that just to see how red you'll turn," S'xon said louder than necessary as his wife had already left the room. The girls were both livid pink, and the Weyrleader appeared to turn to more easily mentally address his dragon. "I guess I am taking you, I might be the only one who knows where to find the place. Nest Peak, suppose that says something about it, huh. Keep your warm gear, I think."

The old excitement in their guts lept up, tempered by the losses they'd had and the time they'd waited. There was still the hint of hesitation, the expectations had been dashed enough that both girls shared that same slight frown mixed with their bright eyes.

*on to the hatching!*

***

(( From RP ))

It was a tall, very dark and slightly confused looking man that helped the two teenage girls off his massive bronze dragon and onto the landing flats of the Weyr. Though it would seem that his status as a bronze rider might put him above the act, he then took up both girls' single satchels of gear and hefted them onto his back. While others greeted the girls, he continued to scan around for any sign of a Weyrleader or Weyrwoman.

They are being tended to, there are eggs to be impressed, at last a living Weyr.

S'xon mentally nodded to his bronze, and handed off the satchels to one of the drudges, indicating clearly they were to go with the girls.

Then where is the Weyrwoman, I suppose she's busy, I know how Kira gets anyway.

She will be sorry to have missed you. But I will bring you back for the hatching, if you wish.

He smirked and thanked his dragon for the offer. As though he wouldn't have been the one to take him back? He waved to the girls Cethian and Mruna, gave them a brilliant smile (and noted the blush on nearby girls - of course they would like it if he'd wave and smile to them ), and then mounted back up. Within minutes the chilly mountaintop Weyr was far behind them, and their own chilly sea-level one beckoned.

***

They'd settled in as quickly as they could, but the redhead and the golden haired candidates both had their reservations. Twice they'd been on sands, twice those sands had given them nothing. They knew, they'd been told frequently enough, that this could be expected. But they were also told, expected from one sands, from queens and clutches that impressed off to other candidates. Not ones which simply stopped existing. Not ones which went cold on the sands.

Cethian helped out at the Weyr as much as she could outside. The windy peak was well shielded from the elements on the inside, but out here... Even if some were terrified of the Heights, Cethian relished them. It was as if the entire world fell away around it, the only thing that could be better about it was if she was seeing it from the back of her own dragon. She realized the wind here would make for exceptionally hardy fliers. But also, could be remarkably dangerous while learning that skill.

Mruna on the other hand kept herself busy by helping the Weyrlingmaster and whoever else would allow it. She came with a letter of recommendation from S'xon and Kira, reminding the Weyrleaders and their staff that these two had both experienced Weyr life and been quite good at it for nearly two years now, and Mruna's skills should not be neglected. At first the Weyrling master would only allow her to stand by and help him with props to show tactical arrangements or wing formation, but then when she placed a few on her own he realized he could just go get himself a cup of klah and enjoy the break now and then.

***

Cethian noticed Mruna's shaking hand, half-hidden in the white robe she wore. The sands were hot, the eggs were trembling and moving with purpose, and the humming of the adult dragons and every weyrlizard in the place bought back that thrill in them both. Their flitters had flown away earlier, but were visible among the faire of others above in the cavern's rugged heights.

Cethian's little tug at her friend's fingertips steadied Mruna's hand.

"Look, the Weyrleader," Cethian nodded and whispered. He was up in the stands, though his diminutive wife was nowhere to be found (if they could see her over anyone's head back at Dragonhope it would be a good day).

"Oh and B'styn!" Mruna cheered considerably at the sight of their third, their beloved friend blue rider. They both obviously wanted to wave and catch eyes, but the shaking of the eggs on the sands was of far more importance to both girls.

Well, that and the young man who'd already gotten his white robe smudged with... whatever was that? Well - no matter - firestone and ash would smirch him later, if they were all lucky enough to Impress.

The queen rose up, already an impressive sight but certainly one which the young candidates appreciated. But she didn't attack, she stepped aside, she backed up to allow her eggs some room to hatch. And hatch they did! A brown and then four more eggs - blues, green, bronze - tussled into a heap.

From that inglorious pile of dragonets, limbs and wings and tails thrashing about, one blue and the green approached the girls. The green eventually turned away, but the blue did not. Cethian could feel something odd, her wrist ached randomly. It wasn't random, though, it was...

Cethian, Lioth hurts. Being squashed is no fun.

Suddenly she looked at his foreleg and sure enough he stood with just a little limp, favored it as she rushed to hold her new bond.

"I know it isn't, let's get you to the dragonhealer to see if she's able to help... And get some food for you too!" Cethian's vision was blurry, it was her tears - pain mingled with relief and joy. She didn't see her friend Mruna through them, or really anything but the whirling red-yellow-blue of her dragons eyes.

He's an average sized blue, and has the personality traits "active, adventurous, and cheeky"

***

Such a beautiful blue went to Cethian that Mruna was taken aback. What gorgeous colors on these long-limbed dragons!

There was an oddly speckled white and violet egg, however, that drew the young former-Lady's eye after they left the sands to find food.

A sound rang through Mruna's mind, almost as though an echo or the buzz of having heard thunder clapping. But it was a word, Mysiath. Mysiath, a name. Her name: the rose shaded golden dragonet that hatched from the oddly violet speckled egg. Her eyes whirled many colors, but turned brilliantly green when Mruna reached out to pull pieces of that egg from her cramped wing sails.

That is what I needed. I needed you. Mruna my one, you needed me too.

Mruna sobbed with joy, like many on the sands would - she wondered what might have happened if they'd been anywhere else. This wonderful, perfect, delicately burnished queen-in-the-making, where would she be?

I would be with you, because you are here now. I smell food, food for me.

With tears still staining her cheeks, and sand and egg goo on her robes, Mruna stood and helped the hatchling unfurl her wings. They would be of a spectacular width, even if the dragon herself might not be as big as some. Like Cethian's lovely blue, strong wings. For winds, oh how that girl would love those winds now!

I will love them too, we will fly anywhere.

Mruna announced the dragon's name boldly to the records keeper, and could hardly contain her glee. It was a rush of feelings, but tempered, or perhaps aided, by the presence of the dragon's mind within hers. "I'm so glad we made it here, after all this time."

She's an average sized gold, and has the personality traits "curious, determined, energetic"

Created with the Droppin the Fork Pernese Character Generator

Pictures from Eloui's dollmaker and Korean Teeny dollmaker