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| Tending the eggs [Open]; Isheth cares for eggs that aren't her own. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 6 Feb 2010 - 19:13 (490 Views) | |
| DeusExMachina | 6 Feb 2010 - 19:13 Post #1 |
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The ten eggs had arrived on the Sands of Ista Weyr late in the night. As soon as she heard about their arrival - alerted by one of the dragons that had done the thieving - Ista's only gold roused herself from where she dozed on her refurbished ledge and rushed to the Sands. As much as something that big and bulky can rush, anyway. Lighting near where the cluster of Fortian eggs was arranged, she flicked impatient wings at the dragons that had done the deed, sending them away imperiously, set to brood over this borrowed Clutch - over this stolen queen and her fellow eggs. By mid-morning, word had spread through the Wings and lower caverns like wildfire: ten eggs were on the Sands of Ista, and Isheth was guarding them like they were her own. A few people tried in vain to come up with some excuse for the eggs' arrivals, something that would mean they were Isheth's - a secret Flight three months ago? - but the writing was on the wall before breakfast was even served: these eggs had been absconded from Fort Weyr. That there was a bronze on the Star Stones serving watchduty was even more telling, for it was his job to challenge any foreign dragons to prevent them from entering the Istan air space. Ista Weyr was locked down to visiting dragons, protecting its ill-gotten gains. Sometime after her own breakfast, looking very calm under the circumstances, Yeldi made her way up the steps from the bowl into the galleries, her eyes sweeping possessively over the eggs sprinkling the black Sands below. Isheth was still fine-tuning the way they were arranged, moving one here and one there, her wings flicking now and then with maternal busy-ness. They were her eggs now, and she even gave her rider a wary look at her proximity. Quietly, amused, the Weyrwoman murmured a word of calm to her mate and made her way along the front tier of seating, eyes turning upward to see who else had come to gawk at the ill-gotten gains. |
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| Tariala | 6 Feb 2010 - 20:43 Post #2 |
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Eggs on the Sands. There weren't sweeter words to any weyrbred boy of a certain age than those, baring perhaps the 'His name is-!' that signified one's Impression. Lethero sweated out the morning at his job for the day -cleaning in the infirmary- and would have been in more agony if it hadn't proved such a prime spot for the overhearing of choice information as patients wandered in and out, or stopped to gossip over the news with the bedridden. Sometime before lunch, one of the older journeymen shooed him away from the bed he'd been stripping and nodded toward the door with a wink, taking over the task himself. Lethero flashed the man a fleeting smile, needed no further prompting to edge out the door and fast-walk to the galleries ringing the Sands. He wanted to see these eggs that Ista had taken the risk of... well, taking. Th'ran must be livid, he thought with a mental chuckle, thinking of how the bluerider would be taking this event. The boy siddled into the gallery, vaguely surprised that more people hadn't already had the same idea. Or maybe they had more sense than he did and thought that Isheth wouldn't appreciate their curiosity. He had no wish to incur the queen's wrath himself, but the lure of seeing the first clutch he was old enough petition for candidacy for gripped him stronger than that worry. Lethero didn't say a word, letting slow, careful steps take him closer to the brass railing. Even the goldrider failed to make an impression on his awareness in those first few moments as his eyes sought the precious eggs. Edited by Tariala, 6 Feb 2010 - 22:53.
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Candidate Lethero Candidate Peorray | |
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| DeusExMachina | 8 Feb 2010 - 13:03 Post #3 |
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There were a few boys about Lethero's age already ranged around the galleries, no doubt hoping for someone to notice them and offer them a chance to Impress some of those borrowed eggs. To youngsters, the political undercurrents were hardly as dramatic: there were eggs, they were of age, it all made perfect sense to them. To the parents and grandparents, of course, there were bigger things to consider: these were stolen eggs, and the young men that Impressed them were going to be marked for life by that fact. The boys sat a few tiers up, one of them - Jesret, by name, a brownrider's son - sat forward to wave to Lethero, friendly enough. The boy next to him - Everen, grandson to a bronzerider now at Igen - ribbed Jesret and hissed a word of warning to him. In the pantheon of boyhood rank, a bluerider's boy fell below these two. While the bigger politics may not come into play, there were political ranks even among the weyrbrats. Bronzeriders and brownriders outranked blueriders, after all, so why should they be friendly to the likes of him? With their whispering at her back, Yeldi shook her head in slow disapproval to what she could overhear. Try as they might to keep their words to themselves, sound carried in a cavern as big as this one, and the Weyrwoman heard enough to get the gist of their remarks. As an aside, to the boy who was too distracted to have noticed her, she asked, "Has anyone asked you to stand yet, Lethero?" See! She even knew his name! "I'm sure your grandfather would be happy to let you." |
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| Tariala | 10 Feb 2010 - 13:55 Post #4 |
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Lethero started at the voice, turning to see the Weyrwoman nearby. “No, ma’am.” He smiled politely at her, somewhat surprised she knew his name. He guessed it was sort of her job to know things like that, though. “No one has asked me to stand yet. I’ve been working in the infirmary all morning.” And no one was rushing to ask a bluerider’s young son –or greenrider’s grandson, if they judged him by Th’dek- to stand for a scarce clutch of ten when there were older and better-connected boys around. Speaking of better-connected… Lethero’s eyes recognized two of the nearest. He directed a smile and nod at Jesret, friendly acknowledgement like any weyrbrat would give another they weren’t actively quarreling with. In Everen’s presence, Jesret might not even respond to that. Lethero didn’t blame him. Everyone did what they had to do and all he could do in return was hope that he eventually Impressed higher than the most obnoxious of the boys. Or caught them doing something he could use against them later. “Of course, if someone were to be asking now, I’d be happy to accept, ma’am. Ista’s newest hatchlings deserve all the choice they can get.” In Lethero’s eyes, the dragons inside were already as much Ista’s as if they’d been clutched from Isheth. It wasn't as though Fort deserved them. |
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Candidate Lethero Candidate Peorray | |
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| Khryssie | 10 Feb 2010 - 14:55 Post #5 |
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There was not much Tyathe was willing to say about the stolen clutch from Fort. They are our eggs, now, she gently reminded herself with a shake of her head, dark curls bouncing in response to her movement. The eggs were desperately needed to secure Ista's population, its status as a fully-active Weyr. Tyathe would not deny that Isheth would now not surrender the eggs. They might as well be borne from her own womb! But, on the other hand, Tyathe couldn't understand quite why the Weyrleaders had decided to sneak in and out of Fort Weyr, taking their eggs. Yes, Fort Weyr's population was in excess, and they had plenty of fertile queens to keep them secure. But, Tyathe could no morally justify the action. She did not like it, but she accepted it. Especially since her eyes were glued to that golden egg that rested with Iseheth. Thankfully, Tyathe had managed to slip away from her chores. Glowbasket upkeep in the Weyr's endless tunnels was monotonous and boring, to say the least. The plump, cheery young woman was glad for her opportunity to slip away. Despite living at a weyr nearly her entire life, she had never actually seen a dragon egg- and to be this close to one? She didn't know whether she wanted to pee her pants, squeal delightedly, or pass out. Seeing as how the Senior Weyrwoman herself was present, Tyathe paused near the entrance of the cavern and took a deep breath, pushing away all urges of peeing and fainting. With her one and only chance at being a dragonrider resting on the sands with the weyrwoman, it wouldn't do to make a bad impression! Not that the Weyrwoman's opinion of her would really sway the outcome- but still. It couldn't hurt for Yeldi to think well of her! Grasping her thin skirts with one hand, Tyathe made her way into the front row of the gallery with a steady, patient step. Her movements were graceful- and only because they were deliberate and thought-out. If she wasn't so focused on where to next plant her foot, Tyathe just might plant her face on the ground. From the front row of the gallery, since the Weyrwoman had her attention turned that way, the curly-haired young woman offered a brief curtsy. Nothing dramatic enough to steal away her attention from the Werybrat boys, but enough to show the proper respect and acknowledgment. Tyathe would be pleased enough if she managed a quiet observation of the eggs without much interruption. |
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| DeusExMachina | 10 Feb 2010 - 15:07 Post #6 |
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The other boys would likely have jumped right up and throttled Lethero if they thought they could get away with it. But, with the Weyrwoman there, the likelihood that they wouldn't get scolded seemed pretty slim. It was Yeldi's attention to the boy that really got Everen's goat. After all, he and his friends had been up in the galleries when the goldrider came in, and she'd not said a word to any of them. They were more important than a bluerider's son, surely. But Yeldi's attention stayed on the young man for quite some time yet, her head tipped askew, her eyes considering him as if she was trying to determine how much he weighed by looks alone. It certainly counted as a lot of attention to pay to one underage boy, yes, but Weyrwomen would do what Weyrwomen would do, and not what anyone else wanted them to. "You're a little bit young yet, aren't you? Have you had your thirteenth Turnday yet?" Why in the world a goldrider would know that much about a greenrider's grandson... Still. She seemed to have been keeping tabs on the people in the lower caverns, obviously, and it showed still when she flickered a smile to the young woman. "Word certainly seems to have gotten around about our eggs, doesn't it?" she mused, stressing the possession just a little more than might have been strictly necessary. Everyone knew where the eggs came from. She could call them Ista's eggs till she was blue in the face, but it wouldn't change the fact that Isheth was not truly their dam. |
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| Khryssie | 10 Feb 2010 - 15:34 Post #7 |
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Whether the eggs had come from Isheth herself or another queen was no longer an issue. Isheth would not likely give up the eggs, not once she had gotten her claws around them and that instinct to protect and nurture had kicked in. Tyathe accepted that. It was part of the reason she had never vociferously proclaimed her opinions about the eggs to anyone but her family- and who would they gossip with? Tyathe trusted her mother and sister's with her life, and most definitely the things she said. But when Weyrwoman Yeldi stressed that one little adjective, especially how the Weyrwoman stressed the one word- when speaking to Tyathe alone. It sent goosebumps up the young woman's arm. She wondered worriedly if Yeldi somehow thought less of her to having slight moral objections to her actions, or rather, her approval of the actions of others which resulted in the eleven eggs nestled around Isheth. "Certainly, Weyrwoman! The entire Weyr is a tizzy with the information- we're all very excited to have a clutch of our own," Tyathe assured the Weyrwoman smoothly, stressing her own word gently enough that she hoped to smooth any ruffled feathers. Tyathe's predominant feelings towards the eggs were that they were a chance for her, and other young people in the Weyr, to Impress dragons and help to defend Pern. That was that. Where they came from was not the biggest issues, and any qualm with their origin would likely fade with time. Tyathe's eyes flickered from the Werywoman to the queen egg, resting on its golden surface for a few brief seconds, before moving back to the Weyrwoman with a proud smile. "I don't blame anyone for being excited about the eggs," she spoke honestly and calmly. "Look at them! How soon do you think until they'll hatch?" Tyathe blurted out the question she'd been itching to ask. She had no idea exactly when Fort's queen had clutched the eggs. For all Tyathe knew, these eggs could very well hatch tonight! |
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| Tariala | 10 Feb 2010 - 16:57 Post #8 |
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Lethero flicked an annoyed glance at Tyathe. What a suck-up. But the girl was probably hoping to get herself asked to stand for the gold and he wasn't one to stand in the way of her ambitions. They were no conflict with his own. "Not soon enough." He offered his opinion in quiet response to her question. The sooner the eggs hatched and Impressed, the harder it would be for Fort to do anything about it. "Ista can use the fighters desperately. *Are* you restricting this clutch to older candidates, ma'am?" He looked questioningly at Yeldi. He knew he was just as capable as any older boy, but Ista didn't have the luxury of an Interval for a pair to grow up in anymore. |
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Candidate Lethero Candidate Peorray | |
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| Khryssie | 10 Feb 2010 - 17:10 Post #9 |
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Tyathe's attention roamed away from the Weyrwoman to rest on the unassuming young boy she'd passed over upon her entry. He looked familiar; Th'ran's son, she assured herself. Lethoro, or something like that. Tyathe was usually good with names, but was always prone ot the occasional mistake. His gaze resting on her made her frown; what was he thinking? Given the expression on his face after her comments to Yeldi, she was dying to know- but left the question unasked. In response to his own answer to her question, originally presented to Yeldi, Tyathe smiled and nodded firmly. She had to agree with him there. The sooner the eggs hatched, the sooner that Ista's legacy and status as a fully-active and able Weyr would be that much more firmly cemented. "The fighting power will help," she agreed with Lethoro, but took it a step further. "But we can also prove to Fort that we're capable of raising, and training, our own weyrlings and riders. They don't seem to think us intelligent enough to know hand from foot," she snorted indignantly, raising her hand and waggling her fingers in an emphatic gesture. "The sooner we have weyrligns to train, the sooner we can prove ourselves to them," she imparted quietly, a proud smile stretched across her round face. |
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| Tariala | 10 Feb 2010 - 17:54 Post #10 |
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Tyathe's comment got her a slightly more skeptical look from Lethero, though he didn't say anything while waiting for the Weyrwoman's own opinion. Ista had had weyrlings before and their training hadn't made a bit of difference to Fort as far as he knew. Eleven more weren't likely to change Fort's mind for the better- especially since that gold egg was one of them.
Edited by Tariala, 10 Feb 2010 - 18:09.
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Candidate Lethero Candidate Peorray | |
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| DeusExMachina | 11 Feb 2010 - 08:05 Post #11 |
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Perhaps merely to tease the boy, who seemed pleasant enough (and she could certainly appreciate his grandfather's support), Yeldi cocked her head, following the gesture through so that she turned toward the eggs again rather than Lethero. Down there, as broody as if she had clutched them herself, Isheth folded a protective wing around three of the eggs, shielding them even from her own rider's prying eyes. "I hadn't thought about it before," the Weyrwoman answered to the matter of restricting the age of the Candidates. "Perhaps that's something I had better mention to N'sam, do you think?" Folding her hands onto the railing that fringed the gallery, Yeldi let a silence of several seconds elapse with her lips pursed as if thoughtfully. "I'm sure it makes sense, practically speaking, to look mainly for boys old enough to slot directly into a fighting Wing, doesn't it? But, then, we would be missing out on so many promising lads." At <i>promising</i>, she turned to Lethero again, subjecting the poor lad to another of those looks that clearly meant to take his measure. Tyathe's interjection seemed to startle her out of that reverie, had her blinking a few times when she turned to the young woman more fully, her head cocked once more to assume that thoughtful angle. She didn't answer as to when she thought the eggs might Hatch, perhaps assuming that any weyrfolk could do the math on their own - provided they had heard about the Clutching at Fort when it had occurred - but the girl's latter remarks earned a lifted brow. "Those are bold words - " She paused, one eye narrowing briefly. " - Tyathe, is it?" She would know the name, age, and parentage of a little boy, but it gave her a moment's hesitation to pin the girl with a name, go figure. "I'm not sure that I particularly care for the implication that we have something to prove." |
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| Khryssie | 11 Feb 2010 - 08:19 Post #12 |
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Shards. Tyathe pursed her lips, considering her next words carefully. She had already apparently irked the Weyrwoman, implying that Ista Weyr had something to prove. The young woman inserted a finger into one of her dark ringlets and toyed with it, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She wasn't sure how she could back pedal out of this gracefully; it might as well be best to surge on, and try and explain her thoughts. She hadn't meant to offend anyone with her thoughts, much less the Weyrwoman herself. For starters, Tyathe took a deep breath and let her hand fall calmly to her side, shaking her head. "I didn't mean that we were in any way lesser than Fort and their riders," Tyathe began calmly. "I just meant that they probably think we're a bunch of ragtag, rebellious riders," she went on carefully. Here she paused in contemplation, folding her arms over her breasts. "They think they're the best, obviously- and they way they restrict their queens is silly. I think all of us, each Weyr, should be thought of as equals," Tyathe explained slowly. "I mean, I don't like it when someone thinks ill of me, so I try and correct their opinion. Its the same thing with Fort, right? Their opinion of us is so far from the truth of who we really are, wouldn't we want to change that? Wouldn't we want them to accept us for the people we are? We're all working towards the same goal- protecting Pern. Its silly to bicker over silly things," she finished up quietly, not sure if she had helped her position at all or simply dug herself in deeper. As a nervous gesture, Tyathe smoothed the front of her skirts with the palms of her hands. She'd probably do well to apologize to Yeldi for stepping on her toes. "I'm sorry if I implied anything wrong," Tyathe went on to say, frowning in disapproval of herself. "I just don't like how they look at us, and talk about us," she went on, her tone taking a desperate edge. "We're a strong Weyr, and we have good riders here! Its not fair that they're so unappreciative of us, as riders and as a Weyr," she finished up, unclenching the hands that had dropped to her sides mid-speech and curled into fists. |
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| Tariala | 11 Feb 2010 - 10:25 Post #13 |
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Lethero bore the Weyrwoman's measuring looks stoically. He couldn't tell her what to do with the clutch, after all, and he half figured them for a test. All the same, he was glad when she turned her attention on Tyathe and relaxed minutely as he followed the women's argument. "Life's not fair." He commented at the end of Tyathe's words, uncharacteristically cynical. Or rather, uncharacteristically *outright* cynical. "Sometimes someone else's issue is someone else's issue and you can't do much about it for them. We just have to live as best we can despite them and wait for sense to return." Th'dek had said something similar to him not long after they'd arrived at Ista, after he'd talked with the greenrider about some of his last conversations with Th'ran. Not that he and his father had had last words proper, Lethero being sensible enough to duck out without consulting the man, but some of the last fights had gotten pretty bad. And yes, it wasn't fair and had hurt to have him and his opinions thought of that way. |
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Candidate Lethero Candidate Peorray | |
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| DeusExMachina | 11 Feb 2010 - 20:38 Post #14 |
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"I'm not sure the Fortians," Yeldi continued, her brow still climbing so that it reached a questioning angle, "would appreciate the implication that they're looking down on us." Yes, everyone knew it was true - or, at the very least, that the Fortians considered themselves to be a real Weyr while Igen and Ista were just offshoots in their infancy. "You're right, Tyathe. We are all working toward the same goal." With that particular stress again, the tone that implied that she would brook no arguments. As Weyrwoman, it was good she had that tone worked out, wasn't it? Just so that Tyathe wasn't alone in suffering Yeldi's displeasure, which was likely a little heightened today owing to a natural defensiveness (After all, she had just sanctioned the theft of eggs from another Weyr.), she turned her attention back to Lethero. For him, though, there was the ghost of a smile. "You certainly have a lot of opinions for such a young man. Cynical ones, no less. Your father's influence, is it? I don't recall Th'dek being quite so grim, but it has been a few years since he and I had a good chat." |
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| Khryssie | 12 Feb 2010 - 06:31 Post #15 |
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To say the very least, Tyathe was relieved that the Weyrwoman agreed with her one that one point. The curly-haired young woman desperately hoped she had successfully imparted her opinions on the woman; she wasn't sure how she'd cope with it if the Weyrwoman believed her to be disloyal to, or not supportive of, the Weyr. Would she be stopped from standing? Tyathe stole a quick glance at the queen egg which Isheth guarded so fiercely; she forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. No, the Weyrwoman hadn't been outright condemning of her. Thankfully, Yeldi's attention turned to Lethoro with a cleverly-disguised jab at his heritage. Tyathe wasn't terribly familiar with the young boy and his father, but knew them as acquaintances. Tyathe backed away from the Weyrwoman and the weyrbrat, backed out of the conversation and took a seat on the benches provided as seats for spectators. For all intents and purposes, she was a spectator today. She let herself become lost in her own thoughts, wandering mindlessly through possibilities and memories as her eyes drank in the marvelous sight of the eggs that were Ista Weyr's first clutch. |
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