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The Calm Before; Standalone
Topic Started: Nov 14 2014, 11:16 PM (138 Views)
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Aniese had lost track of time, aside from the passing of the days and nights. Life had ground to a monotony, punctuated only by occasional stints in the Infirmary when the rest of the Weyr went out for Threadfall. She would do what she could, but it seemed she was never able to stay the full duration before Rezeirth was squalling for her again. She didn’t resent the Gold in the slightest, but she was tired, tired of living in the room that was not hers and tired of the oppressive heat of the sands and tired of Rezeirth’s eternal exhaustion lurking at the edge of their bond.

The dragonhealers had kept a much more accurate count than she had, and according to them, the Hatching would be any day now. Literally any day—within the next three or four days. Aniese wasn’t sure about the truth of this guess, though—Healers had been known to make incorrect estimates before, after all. But she knew one thing without a doubt. If the eggs did hatch soon, she was going to retire to her weyr and sleep for two days straight. To say nothing of how much sleep Rezeirth would get.

This evening, sitting on the low stone couch where she and Rhias would eventually stand together, Aniese stared moodily out at the dark cavern. Rezeirth’s gleaming golden silhouette reflected what little light entered from the first moonrise, and Melacyth nearby gave her surroundings a faintly crimson glow. It was no more eerie than the first time she had seen it, and yet, this time… it made something twinge within her, like an ache of familiarity that she did not want to experience.

Abruptly she stood and turned away, toward the entrance. Maefroch had brought her stew days ago, and that had done wonders to revive her. Perhaps that would be helpful again.

Rezeirth made no comment as she crossed the Sands and exited, perhaps able to pick up on her thoughts and finding no objection to the Lower Caverns.


Well, Aniese thought dimly as she entered, it was certainly after nightfall. The hearths in the Caverns were nearly all out, and only one remained at a low heat, keeping a large pot warm. She moved over toward it and took a big sniff.

It was stew, just like Maefroch had brought. Tender pieces of herdbeast meat floated ina thick broth, with pieces of grain and vegetables. Her mouth watered.

“Here,” said a voice.

Aniese jumped. So obsessed with smelling the soup, she hadn’t noticed an older rider leaning against the edge of the hearth… or had he just approached? She couldn’t be sure. She glanced down; he was holding a ceramic bowl out.

“Thanks,” she said uncertainly. The rider was unfamiliar to her—must be a recent transfer, she thought—but he was compact in form, with a thin face and a chin full of scruff. It was hard to tell his age, but he appeared to be older. She wasn’t sure how much older.

He grinned at her scrutiny. “Name’s M’ril. Of Blue Notalith. I haven’t met you yet, but you’re Aniese, right?”

Aniese swallowed. Being so busy on the Sands was no excuse to not know who a rider was, new or not. She was supposed to know all of the residents of the Weyr.

“Yes, I’m Aniese,” she said faintly.

“Why don’t you have some stew? I’d love some company, if you’re not busy,” he said easily.

Aniese hesitated, frowning slightly. She didn’t particularly fancy company, but they were the only two people in the cavern, so… it seemed silly to not agree. “Alright,” she said, and turned back to the delicious-smelling pot.

Bowl now filled, she turned back to the room. M’ril was sitting nearby, watching her with a small smile on her face. She tried to return it and moved over to his table, gut squirming uncomfortably. Did he know that she had no idea who he was? Did he think she was a horrible Weyrwoman for it? Well, she was to both of them, whether or not he was thinking of it. She picked up her spoon and prodded at the soup.

M’ril cracked a grin, and then chuckled. “Well, you might as well eat it, girl,” he said. “You look like a starved drowned mouse.”

Aniese felt a spark of irritation and looked up at him. “Excuse me,” she said before she could stop herself, “I’m not ‘girl,’ bluerider.”

M’ril’s grin turned into a smile with just the hint of satisfaction. “Of course. Weyrwoman.”

Aniese felt the encroaching edge of confusion and brought a spoonful of soup to her mouth to cover up her discomfiture. It was delicious, just as rich and warming as it smelled. She could almost feel her rough edges being soothed away with the nourishing mouthful.

M’ril nodded. “About time you had some of this. The way I hear it, you’ve been living in the Sands most of the month, having fruit and bread sent up to you.”

Aniese shrugged and spooned another bite into her mouth. “Haven’t been too hungry.”

“I’d ask if you were pregnant, but everyone knows you went Between after the Flight,” M’ril returned.

Aniese choked on her mouthful of stew. “W-what?” She spluttered.

“I mean, I wasn’t even here for the flight and I know,” he said as his eyes danced.

“H-how does everyone know?” Aniese demanded.

M’ril raised his eyebrows, and there was no hint of teasing in his expression. “How long have you been a rider now? And a grown woman at that? Surely you know how rich the Weyr rumor mill is, especially when concerning its leaders,” he said.

Aniese flushed at the very thought. “So…” She couldn’t even bring herself to form a complete sentence. The fiasco with Endoth and Grejoth, and her reluctance and confusion with Jyadi… was all of that public knowledge?

M’ril seemed to know what she was thinking. “Listen,” he said gently. “It’s not like everybody knows your business, but… everybody knows that you aren’t taking care of yourself. Lower Caverns workers will talk. And Harpers, at that,” he reflected. “I’d wager those eggs are pretty near hatching. Once it’s all done, you really aught to take care of things. Get it sorted however you want. If not for your own health, then for the health of the Weyr.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at her, slightly frowning.

Aniese stared down at her bowl and said nothing. It was true. Ever since the flight, she’d been astonishingly self-absorbed. Only so much of that could be blamed on Rezeirth and her needs. No, M’ril was right. It wasn’t like her to let her personal business interfere with the running of the Weyr. Once the dragonets had broken shell and the Sands were clear, she would take care of it. She’d have to. She looked back up.

M’ril smiled. “First, finish eating. The most important thing is keeping that Gold of yours happy while she’s guarding the clutch.”

“Oh,” Aniese replied between bites, “I don’t think she’ll really be happy until the eggs have hatched.”

M’ril grinned again. “Fair enough. Listen, I know it’s not my place, but… it’s her first clutch, and your first time as the rider of a clutchmother. Give it some time and you’ll get the hang of it.”

Aniese smiled joylessly. If she had to wait three turns to give it another shot, she would not be displeased.

“Well,” M’ril said, looking from her to her empty bowl, “I think that’s enough midnight oil for me. I better be getting back to my weyr. Notalith’ll be wondering what’s keeping me.”

Aniese hesitated, and then said, “It was nice to meet you, M’ril. I’d love to meet Notalith at some point.”

M’ril stood and nodded. “I’m sure he’d love to meet you, too. Have a good night, Weyrwoman.”

Aniese watched him go with some confusion. Unsolicited advice from a bluerider was not always welcome, necessarily, but somehow he had not rankled her the way she had thought he might. She stood and cleared her bowl to the Kitchens, then looked around the Caverns once more. He was right, of course. Hopefully, the next time she stood here, it would be during a Hatching Feast. She gave the room one final look and then turned to go, reaching out to Rezeirth and comforting the Gold where she remained, restless, on the Sands.

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Amber Wingsecond Aniese of Gold Rezeirth :: Marble Wingrider Vyra of Grey Theteth :: Granite Wingrider Karen of Blue Ienirth :: Weyrling Master Mai of Green Laeitath :: Candidate Master Kari of Green Seliath :: Sandstone Wingrider Natalia of Green Priyeth :: Sardonyx Weyrling A'den of Black Ezvanth :: Amber Weyrling Cayliss of Garnet Avraith :: Candidate Mirana :: Candidate Piper :: Journeywoman Healer Ylanna :: Weyrfolk Becca

Hurricane Wingrider Seneca of Blue Roryth

Sandstone Wingrider Dacielle of Copper Vylendrieth :: Granite Wingrider L'del of Grey Xakoeth :: Searchrider & Marble Wingrider M’ril of Blue Notalith :: Shale Wingrider K’dyn of Green Scherezath :: Baby Azora

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