Let the Celebrations Begin!

[M'kel]

Feeling much cheered after speaking briefly with the newest bronzeriders to the Weyr, M'kel strode easily through the fast-melting snow in the Bowl of the Weyr. The storm had ceased, nearly in unison with the final Impression, and the sky was already looking brighter. Except for the brooding clouds. And the wind was still quite strong... Dismissing these nuisances, the Weyrleader marched into the Lower Caverns, and for lack of a better signal, clapped his hands to gain the attention of the workers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Hatching has been a success." Mostly. "You know what to do!"

As soon as the call for the Hatching had gone out, preparations for the post-Hatching feast and celebrations had already begun. The workers immediately moved to begin placing platters on the long tables of the Caverns, and wine bottles were being taken out of the Weyr's stores. The other Weyrfolk, still chattering after the Hatching, were also beginning to pour into the Caverns. Pausing to grab a glass of wine and downing it in one go, M'kel turned to scan the room. As soon as M'kel could get his hands on an able dragonrider, they'd have Harpers from the nearest Hold on the way.

The Weyrleader must be present at such a function, and M'kel was eager to please, but he felt uncomfortable in his weyrhide after sweating through that Hatching...from more than the heat. Thus, he ducked quickly up to his weyr to change into a nice Gather outfit of rich mahogany brown. That should be appropriate attire for a Weyrleader. My, he loved thinking that word. Weyrleader.

And certainly mature enough to fit the part... Tirenth rumbled in amusement at his preening rider.

Ignoring this comment, M'kel gave his roguish, dirty blond hair another cursory check-over and proceeded to the Lower Caverns once again. It was time to wine and dine.

[B'kay]

B'kay and Syth waited silently as the onlookers filed out of the Hatching Grounds and made their way toward the feast. The last of the newly paired weyrlings were heading for the barracks to tuck in full-bellied dragonets before the dark bronze and his dark rider drifted from their high perch.

The storm seemed to be letting up, so B'kay directed Syth across the Bowl to their high and distant weyr. Dust covered the bronzerider's belongings, and as B'kay wandered about, there was a smirk on his face. So, no one had taken his place ... no surprise. Those back stairs never had been finished ... no one else would want a weyr with only one entrance, after all.

Syth was still fully loaded with traveling gear, so B'kay's first order of business was to unharness his dragon, oil anything that the bronze indicated was uncomfortable, and haul his packs into the weyr. He rummaged through his things to find something clean to wear, then found himself pleasantly surprised to find that, though the stairs might not be done, he finally had hot water.

Cleaned, pressed, and dressed in sleek black attire that held no adornment, B'kay looked over his reflection casually and nodded. Suitable.

He returned to Syth, who was stretched on his stone couch, hunger rumbling in his stomach and his emotions.

"Drop me off, my friend, and then go and find yourself something to fill your belly as well. That storm seems to have let up enough for a dragon to hunt safely--at least for the moment."

Syth grunted approvingly, and ambled to the ledge, lowering himself to allow his rider to mount.

Moments later, B'kay wandered into the dining cavern, to be met by rich aromas that made his own stomach growl as loudly as his dragon's. He looked around for a quiet table out of the way ... knowing full well that this was one occasion where "quiet" and "out of the way" would be hard to find.

Spotting M'kel, the dark rider lowered his gaze and turned in the opposite direction, taking a round-about route to the hearth and the steaming mugs of klah and baskets of fresh bread arranged there.

[Journye]

S'lem had finally gotten Griflith to settle down and drift off to sleep, the silly blue was nearly asleep on his feet yet still wanted to play. S'lem shook his head with a chuckle, he was definitely going to have his hands full with the little playful blue. He glanced once more toward the sleeping form, feeling sleepy himself through the connection with his precious little one, but he was able to push that to the back of his mind as he got ready for the feast. He quickly changed into a pair of black trousers and a wine colored tunic made of a soft material. He brushed his sandy blond hair out, getting tangles from the storm out of it. He winced a bit as the muscles in his back shifted and pulled, promising large bruises. He looked at Griflith once more before stepping out, nearly running into his sister. Calysta flashed him a smile as he simply stared at her, she was dressed more appropriately then usual.

Calysta smiled softly and smoothed down her form flattering wine colored skirt. Her tunic was a modest one of a soft burgundy color, not overly clingy, but fitting just right. She had her hair pulled back into a braid, the end brushing just at the middle of her back. S'lem smiled back and held his arm out to her, which she accepted with a brighter smile, she wanted no other, but her brother to escort her to the feast.

~~

H'ter winced as he pulled his robe off, his left arm not really functioning properly. The healer girl had looked at it and said it wasn't broken, but would take a while to heal, the hail had hit the tendons just right she had said. H'ter shook his head and sat on his cot, looking at Bediverth who was curled onto his couch. He couldn't help but smile as he looked at his new heart mate, the one that had chosen him. He was still surprised that a brown had chosen him, but he was so happy Of course I chose you mine,[/color] Bediverth said sleepily, opening one eye to look at his bonded. H'ter smiled "I'm sorry I woke you," he said softly "Please sleep my heart, I know you are tired and full. Its time for me to go eat as well." he said as he knelt beside his life mate. Bediverth seemed to think about this for a moment then laid his head back down Of course mine is hungry, he did not eat when Bediverth did. Yes please go eat mine, I will be here when you return[/color] He said drozily. H'ter grinned and caressed the brown's eye ridges before standing. He carefully changed into a pair of eart toned pants and a cream colored tunic which made his reddish brown hair stand out. He looked loveingly at his brown one more time before heading out.

He paused a moment before entering the dining hall, a smile on his face. Here he was, a real dragon rider now. He stepped into the hall and looked around.

~~

Journye finished dabbing a small amount of numb weed ointment to her temple which was beginning to turn bluish purple. She had managed to was all the blood from her skin and her hair as Lucaith had explored their new living quarters. He paused by Journye and nuzzled against her leg, looking up at her with slowly whirling eyes tinged with worry Mine is hurt. Mine should rest instead of going out,[/color] He said as his head began to droop sleepily. "I will be fine lovely,"she said sootingly "Besides I'm hungry. You've had your meal, but I didn't" she pointed out. The blue thought about this then nodded his head "Now to bed with you, we will have much to explore tomorrow," she promised as she began to change her clothes. Lucaith started to protest that he wasn't tired, but thought better of it as he yawned. He curled up onto his couch and was soon asleep.

Journye smiled and smoothed out her tunic, colored dark blue, her healer insignia proudly displayed. She wore a black skirt. She pulled her hair into a pony tail, for once leaving the white hair free to frame her face. She felt more confidant about herself now, thanks so very much to Lucaith. She looked lovingly at him once more before reluctantly leaving their quarters to venture into the dining cavers for a meal.

[Journye]

L'kas shrugged out of his riding jacket and tossed it onto his bed, frowning. He and Seath had missed the hatching all together, the bad storm keeping them away from the weyr and stuck in a small hold. He snorted and shrugged, well at least it had been a good hatching he had heard and he would be able to be at the feast. He grinned and opened the chest at the foot of his bed, rummaging through the clothes neatly folded there. He finally decided on a pair of black trousers and a rich bronze colored tunic of a velvety material. He brushed a hand through his hair, knowing it was useless to try and bring it to any sort of order, the curls were just too unruly. He smiled to himself as he made his way down the stairs, nodding to people he passed.

He paused once inside the door way leading to the dining hall and glanced around, noting that a few of the new weyrlings were already there and a few other riders. He spotted M'kel and saluted the man. He had no hard feelings toward his fellow bronze rider, now Weyrleader. He didn't envy the man his position one bit. He made his way over to M'kel and bowed "I heard that it was a good hatching," he said with a smile "Do we have promising riders?" he asked as he turned to glance at the weyrlings there.

[ravyna]

You will return if I call, Igrainth stated matter of factly, her long neck raised high as she looked her rider in the face.

Yes, my Lovely, of course I will.

I will sleep here, and no one but you will disturb me.

Ravyna chuckled and reached out to stroke the lovely green eye-ridges, and trace the whirls of color in the multi-shaded hide. No one but me, darling. Her stomach rumbled. She had been hauling meat and water to the Hatching all day, and working hard in the kitchens before that. She couldn't recall if she'd eaten anything at all.

You are hungry! Igrainth scolded. You cannot care properly for your dragon if you are weak with hunger. Though her air was still haughty, her head was starting to droop, and her eyes swirling more slowly. Finally, unable to hold it in, she opened her mouth wide in a meat-scented yawn.

Ravyna blinked. "I didn't know dragons yawned," she said aloud, and smiled.

Neither did I! Igrainth replied, as she lowered her head to her new bed in the weyrling barracks quarters.

Ravyna stroked her dragon's lovely head till she was sure she was asleep, and then left quietly for the dining cavern. As she walked, she worried, trying hard to keep the concerns to herself. She hadn't known dragons yawned. In fact there was very little she did know about dragons. All the other new weyrlings had been candidates, after all, trained by the Candidate Master. She'd had no training at all!

She was still frowning as she entered the aroma-rich dining area, and stood in line with a plate in her hands to receive the rich roast beast and tubers that were the main course. What would she do? She supposed she should find the Weyrlingmaster, and ask.

But, she realized with a start, she didn't even know who the Weyrlingmaster was!

[D'gellin]

Try as she might to hold a grudge, it was getting harder and harder to be angry at all the blissful faces surrounding her. Trilia looked down into her small glass of juice, swirling the citrus-scented concoction between her hands. The liquid rippled and danced easily at her whim. What a shame it couldn't be as easy to Impress a dragon. She glanced up at those wonderfully happy weyrlings, envious and lonely at the site of them. She could see it: the difference in their expressions, their movements, the way they presented themselves. They were so proud, so delighted, so complete. Trilia felt like a less-than-perfect object at a Gather. Broken and shunned aside as the other items were taken away to a better place.

But she wasn't mad at them, she decided with a heavy sigh. It wasn't their fault. There was simply something the matter with her. It was the only logical explanation. She was, after all, one of the only two candidates who hadn't Impressed, and the only dismissed candidate who hadn't been surprised with a life mate in the end. Ronin crooned reassuringly in her ear, rubbing his little brown head against her cheek. She smiled faintly and dropped her gaze to the cool drink, running her fingers along the side so that the perspiration on it wiped away, leaving little slashes in Trilia finger shaped patterns behind. She could feel Ronin's tangle of memories flashing in her subconscious. Happy things. She turned her face to kiss the fire lizard's tiny head. "Thank you." She murmured against the soft hide. Ronin preened in delight as Trilia stood and wondered into the crowd. Maybe if she just found someone to talk to instead of moping...Ronin chittered and flashed between, away from the jumble of bodies and noise while Trilia lost herself in the festivities, a tentative smile playing at her lips. If there was something wrong with her that deterred the dragonets, then she'd simply have to work to make herself better. And moping was no way to accomplish that. (She fluidly twirled around someone carrying a loaded plate of food. Her smile broadened at the person's mixture of surprise and relief at not getting knocked into.) Getting out into the world was.

_______________________________________

Your Lancetoth will come as well! D'gellin's bronze proclaimed boldly. But the new weyrling could see the hazy film of fatigue in the swirling eyes. No matter how determined, Lancetoth was heavy with food and exhaustion.

D'gellin bit at his lower lip. Nah, let's stay here. He replied, playing responsible for once. Lancetoth's sleepy connection left him mollified.

You do not wish to join your peers, mine? Lancetoth surmised in confusion.

I'd rather stay with you. D'gellin murmured into their strange mental link, rubbing at Lancetoth's soft eye ridge. The bronze melted against his hand, thrumming in contentment. But D'gellin's stomach betrayed him and grumbled in deprivation.

Lancetoth heaved a draconic sigh and looked up at His through half-closed lids. You're hungry.

Not really. D'gellin hedged, unwilling to leave his dragon's side. But his stomach growled again, more persistent now. ...Maybe a little... He relented, defeated.

I will not have Mine depraved of food. You will eat, ridermine, and we shall go on many adventures after we have rested. Lancetoth declared, eyeing D'gellin with one sleepy eye.

The weyrling was quite ready to protest this but Lancetoth had already drifted to sleep. His fire lizard was curled comfortably on the bronze's gently rising and falling back. D'gellin looked around for some excuse to stay, but all he found were other sleeping dragonets. A few weyrlings lingered but many had already left for the feast. With another grumble from his stomach, D'gellin grudgingly stood and dug for a suitable garment in his sparse articles. He found a fresh brown tunic and pants; a gift from his family. It smelt faintly like his sisters' perfumes. But he didn't mind. He smiled as he clothed himself, pulling the fabric up to his nose to breath in the scent of his old home. The Weyr was his home now. But he could take the old with him.

He looked over his shoulder at Lancetoth once more before heading out to the feast. The movement, the hunger, and the sore bruises running along his arms served to wake him. Enough, at least, so that he was grinning his usual impish smile as he picked up a plate, marveling at just how many people were cramped into one area.

[Shikai]

T’ren wrinkled his nose in distaste as he peered down it at the gather clothes he held before him. He never wore them if he could help it, but today was different: today was the best, most important day of his life. For today he had achieved his dream and become a dragonrider, as evidenced by the blue dragon beside him, also scrutinizing the clothing.

It looks itchy. Owaith commented sympathetically, having been quite itchy himself before T’ren had oiled his hide not long ago.

“It is itchy! I hate having to wear these…” T’ren complained, thrusting the light blue shirt and brown pants further from himself, causing them to dangle at arms length as though he were holding something quite undesirable.

If you dislike them so, why wear them, mine? The blue replied, half advisory and half curious.

“Because it’s a special occasion. A hatching feast! Father always made us dress up nice when we went to special occasions. And this is the most special of all, because I’m bonded to you now!” The boy answered, with a loving smile at his precious companion. A sudden thought struck him, causing his cheerful face to burble into laughter. “What would father say if he was here now? And saw me! A dragonrider!” Yet his laughter was just as much scornful and hurt as merry, and Owaith, knowing his emotions but being too young to understand completely, pushed his soft, suede-like muzzle into T’ren’s limp hand.

T’ren was instantly reassured by the touch of Owaith, his dragon, his dragon, and all unhappiness vanished as love welled up in him for the beautiful little creature who had Impressed him. “Well! Might as well get it over with, hm?” With that, his manner toward the clothes changed abruptly from repulsed to accepting, and he quickly changed into them, wincing as he peeled his wet hatching robe off of a particularly nasty cut inflicted by the pounding hail. “Thank Faranth that’s over…” He muttered to himself as he tugged on his pants.

Finished, he took a few steps away from Owaith and spread his arms, displaying himself in his uncomfortable costume. “Well, what do you think?” He asked, a teasing grin on his face.

Now you’re much more like me! Blue and itchy! Owaith joked with a sagely nod, or, at least, the best he could manage at a sagely nod given his overlarge head. T’ren laughed at the quite truthful observation, tugging uncomfortably at his sleeves.

T’ren looked about the weyrling barracks (a pleasant chill ran down his spine as he realized that they were the weyrling barracks, not the candidate barracks), seeing that several people had left their dragonets in the barracks instead of taking them to the feast. How could they bear to be apart so soon after finding each other at last, he wondered.

No, no, NO! You are NOT leaving without your Owaith! The blue said resolutely, planting himself between T’ren and the door in such a way that T’ren doubted he could physically move the dragon, despite his relatively small stature, if he tried. Seeing his dragon so determined not to be parted from him brought a grin to his face.

“I have no intention of leaving you behind, Owaith! We’ll go together, stay for a little while until we can’t hold ourselves up anymore, then make our exit and come back here to sleep!” He announced, and Owaith perked up instantly.

So we’re going out to see the weyr, and meet some other dragonriders?[/color] Owaith asked excitedly, his fun-loving nature resurfacing.

“You bet, Owaith!” T’ren said with a wink, and he sprung past the dragon toward the door. “Come on then! Let’s get going! I want to see who else impressed!” He remarked, and both dragon and boy practically flew out of the barracks and toward the feast.

Grabbing a plate, T’ren scanned the faces around him, and recognized Degellin’s nearby. Or was he D’gellin now? T’ren had been quite unable to keep track of who impressed, and he was instantly curious to see how his friend had faired, hoping, and confident, as friends are, that Degellin had. He waved a hand in Degellin’s direction, hoping the other boy would see him.

[M'kel]

The Lower Caverns were fast becoming packed with Weyrfolk, new Weyrlings, and guests flown in after the storm had died down. Harpers had arrived, and a lovely trickle of music was already weaving its way around the hum of the gathering to the bronzerider's ears. Tapping his foot in rhythm to a particularly spritely tune, M'kel nodded to various dignitaries that made their way into the Caverns, ignoring their gestures for him to come join them at the moment. Of course the Lord Holders would wish to speak with one of the Weyrleaders, and there was little chance Sitareh would appear at this function, but M'kel wasn't ready to settle into that droll role. He wanted to have some fun first.

Grabbing a redfruit from the nearest table, the bronzerider bit into its tangy flesh, gazing wistfully about the room for some companionship and entertainment. There were so few dragonriders in this time, and the Weyrlings would be too out of sorts after their euphoric day to 'chat' with a Weyrleader. Luckily, the problem was solved for him, for L'kas appeared out of the shifting crowd. By his queries, it was apparent to M'kel that the other rider had missed the Hatching, which was fortunate in itself. The last thing the dragonrider needed was another bronzerider’s criticisms.

“Yes, lots of new, strong dragons. Araelen now stands a much better chance of fending off Thread, so long as they’re trained in time. Which reminds me…” M’kel groaned at the thought, ducking his head to rub his face in his hands for a moment. That was a matter that needed to be tended to sooner than later. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” he sighed, slipping around L’kas to glance around the room more easily.

His hazel eyes soon found the dark figure they sought, and the other man’s countenance was not one M’kel was eager to approach. Taking a stabilizing breath, the dragonrider proceeded to weave his way through the crowd. At the last table, he scooped up another goblet of wine, then leaned against the hearth that seemed to hold B’kay fixated. Sipping idly, he smiled cheerily at the other bronzerider, although his eyes held a certain degree of hesitance.

“So you’ve returned from the north.” Oh, it had been a fortuitous day indeed when B’kay had gone off on that assignment. After all, it had meant less competition for Tirenth when Aviciath rose in Flight. Although, M’kel was certain that the outcome would have been the same. “Time to do your duty to the Weyr, here in Araelen, I should think,” he drawled, edging towards the subject while unwilling to bridge it so quickly. After all, the last thing M’kel wanted was to be in debt in any manner to the other man.

[B'kay]

The tables were filling fast, with guests and riders and weyrlings, all eager to eat and celebrate. B'kay filled a plate and retreated to a corner near the hearth, where he could relax in semi-shadow and observe the milling humans. To his surprise, the first bite of roast melted in his mouth. That lame Beastmaster had said he'd improve the meat stock ... apparently he knew his task. Many months of gamey wherries and wild tubers for his meals were washed away with the first sop of fresh bread and richly seasoned gravy. For a few moments, B'kay knew nothing but the food on his plate, and reached for his dragon to share the appreciation he felt. Syth echoed similar emotions back.

The meat is succulent, indeed! The dragon agreed. I am on my second helping!

Chuckling, B'kay had just stuffed a large bite of beautifully roasted tubers, browned on the outside and tender white inside, into his mouth, and was sucking in air to cool the hot food, when he spotted M'kel approaching. The Weyrleader ... how it chafed to call him that ... was heading right for him.

When he heard M'kel's words about "doing duty to the Weyr", the dark bronzerider rued the mouth full of food. Had he not still been chewing, he'd have spat a sharp retort. As it was, he had to grab his cup and wash the tubers down before he could reply.

"I've always done my duty to the Weyr," he said quietly, dark eyes spearing the other bronzerider, "Weyrleader," he added, allowing just a hint of color to tint the word. "I've got packs full of diagrams, maps, lists and inventories to prove it. Now that I'm back, my loyalty to Weyr," and he very subtly stressed the word, "Continues." He took another sip of his wine. "Congratulations, by the way, to your Tirenth. That was an impressive count of hatchlings."

He lowered his gaze to his plate again, and pretended to become absorbed in the act of sopping gravy up with his bread.

[Shikai]

As H’run had been among the last to find his lifemate on the sands, he was also one of the last to finally satisfy his dragon’s voracious appetite, and so he found himself rushing down the now near empty halls of the weyr, bronze Gawyth trotting at his side. Why are we in such a hurry, mine?[/color] The dragon demanded to know, moving with surprising ability for one so young, but still having a little trouble keeping up with his far longer-legged human.

“It’s because you have such an appetite, Gawyth! While you were eating, everyone else left, dressed, and went to the feast already!” H’run chided cheerfully, an uncharacteristic smile on his face as he grinned impishly at his dragon, more than a little caught up and out of sorts due to the after effects of his recent impression.

I don’t think there’s any need to hurry! The feast isn’t going anywhere![/color] The dragon responded, looking curiously, and somewhat worriedly, at his strangely-acting rider.

“Oh, but it is, Gawyth!” H’run corrected as he turned a corner, finally arriving in the barracks. “Down the throats of everyone else in the weyr! You haven’t been here long enough to see how dragonriders eat! By Faranth, they must inherit some of their dragons’ appetite when they impress…” He remarked, with a chuckle.

This merited an even stranger ‘look’ from Gawyth, who knew something was very different about his rider. What had happened to the boy he had chosen? Mine…are you sure you don’t want to lie down? Perhaps some rest would do you well.[/color]

“Lie down? LIE DOWN? How can I just lie down and go to sleep NOW, of all times?! This is the happiest day of my LIFE, Gawyth!” He exclaimed, spreading his arms wide in an expression of the immeasurable joy he was feeling.

…Something’s wrong with you, mine…[/color]

“Nothing’s wrong with me! I’m happy! I’m sooooo…happy!” H’run exclaimed.

…Yes, that’s what worries me…[/color]

“Don’t be worried! We’re going to the feast! I’m ready!”

…But mine, is it customary to go to a feast dressed like that? I’m certain your pants are not supposed to look like that. And you aren’t wearing a shirt.[/color]

“Oh.” H’run replied, looking over himself. “Right you are.” He fixed his black pants, which had been on backwards, and pulled on the forgotten brown gather shirt with unnecessary haste.

Had the bronze been able to, he would have sighed. Mine, are you quite certain that you wish to out in public while you are in such a state?[/color] He asked, his tone almost pleading with his rider not to go out and surely embarrass himself while he was acting quite out of character due to the hatching. Gawyth was sure that the state would pass in a few candlemarks, and his rider would return to the perfect person he had chosen, but until then, he was going to have to do his best to deal with H’run as he was now. And at the moment, there was no arguing with him, for he wouldn’t listen to reason.

“Yes, I’m going! And you’re coming with me!” H’run announced, beckoning for his bronze to follow him as he turned quickly to make his way out of the barracks.

Watch out for that – never mind…[/color] Gawyth mentally sighed again as his rider, in his haste and not watching where he was going, ran smack into a wall instead of leaving by the door, as he had intended. Resignedly, the dragon padded out of the room after his rider. At least he could laugh at H’run when the boy regained his senses.

H’run![/color] Gawyth said, quite exasperated. Really, don’t make this situation worse than it is! Do not drink that wine! Wouldn’t you rather have some hot klah?[/color]

“Why not?” H’run asked innocently as he took a sip of the glass of wine he had just picked up. “I like wine. And it’s the hatching feast! I Impressed, Gawyth!”

I’m quite aware of that.[/color] Gawyth replied sarcastically. Come mine, let’s go this way…[/color] He said quickly as H’run started toward the main tables, wineglass and a meatroll in hand. Gawyth nudged his rider with his nose, steering him away from the crowd, toward the wall. Contentedly, H’run sipped his wine and munched at his meatroll while leaning against the wall, while Gawyth considered smacking his head against the wall as he had gleaned that humans did when frustrated from H’run’s mind. The young dragon did his very best to look intimidating, hoping to dissuade anyone from approaching his rider. This wasn’t too difficult, for while he was young, Gawyth was strong and naturally rather formidable-looking anyway. He could only hope that others would get the implied message and stay away…