Toasting joy and drowning sorrows (Hatching Feast)

If there was a Hatching, then there had to be a feast.

It was late, certainly, but a Hatching was an occasion to celebrate, and Br'son would not have it said that White Lightning fell short in this regard. Avidian had provided plenty to drink, wines and ales as well as the harder stuff. Their kitchen staff had rallied to create a marvelous, hearty stew of meats and grains and vegetables that burst with flavor. There were sweet and savory breads, slices of cold meat and vegetables, and best of all, an entire table filled with baked confections of every kind.

Never let it be said that White Lightning didn't know how to throw a party.

"We'll take the dias," Br'son informed E'zen and Teagan as they walked in together. "People will want to congratulate you, E'zen. It would be appropriate for Asteriel to join you and sit on your other side, but it's not mandatory. I don't know if Sidran will sit with us, or with her wing. It's not strictly formal. Teagan, you'll sit on my other side, leave a chair open for the Weyrleader, unless you see her with her wing, then you can take that one. Let's make sure we have three seats open for K'zariel, Melieste, and Kalabria. They may not choose to join us for long, but as you both know, it's important to set the tone early. When they come in with their classmates, we'll signal them to come over for a bit. Questions, relay through Yllaveth. Congratulations, E'zen. Chin up. It's almost over, then you can rest."

The Weyrsenior said this last with a grin. He knew well the elated exhaustion that came with a successful Hatching. He'd have bet any amount you'd care to name that Aliseth was already sleeping, as well she should be. This hatching had been... well... spectacular was too mild a word.

E'zen nodded, looking surprisingly relaxed and maybe even, just a bit, giddy. Granted, it was the first time he'd been out of the hatching cavern and its most immediate offshoot caves in months. It felt like months. He didn't know, anymore.

But now, Aliseth deeply asleep, Asteriel hopefully on his way, and company he was surprisingly happy with at his side, E'zen felt like he could enjoy the feast for days. "Thank you, Weyrsenior," was all he said, meaning it with complete and total genuine gratitude.

***
Sidran had swung by her weyr to settle Gaveth and change. It wasn't her night, so she didn't pull out all the stops, but Yllaveth hadn't risen yet, and she had a mind to take advantage of her Weyrsenior's time, this evening.

Well and so. Her hair down and shining, that soft smile still in play, and her darkest leather pants matched with her closest-fitting blue shirt, she had not come to outshine anyone...but she had come to show off, just a bit.

Hopefully an effective bit. "Weyrsenior," she said, a bit of invitation in her tone as she matched pace with them just shy of the dais, "and queenriders. Congratulations, E'zen."

He nodded, eyes widening just a touch before he glanced at Teagan. He'd heard that subtle invitation, though it wasn't aimed at him. For what might have been the first time in this canyon, he wanted to exchange a 'tell me you heard what I heard' look with a friend and truly enjoy a moment of fond camaraderie. Weird.

Br'son was Weyrsenior and, he thought, pretty good at his job. Not much rattled him these days. He did his best to maintain an air of professionalism and having it all together...

which crumbled to dust as soon as the Weyrleader made her appearance. Silver stars, but she looked good.

He might have stumbled slightly when she flashed that inviting smile at him. His mouth definitely fell open and all the thoughts fell right out of his head. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, and almost missed the step to the dias.

Yllaveth's amused snort in his mind shook him out of his spell, and he blinked, then blushed and pulled himself together. Mostly.

"Weyrleader," he said, his voice just a touch raw as he pulled out her chair before offering the same courtesy to Teagan and taking his own seat.

Asteriel whirled in her room, allowing her golden hair to flair out as she did so. Everything was so wonderful; she couldn't have asked for better if she had the power to lay it all out in her design. Her blue eyes shown as she turned to her feasting wear. A pale blue gown shown softly in the glow light, a silver ring bearing a square tiger's eye laying atop it. Her father's ring.

'I should give it to him. A gift of good faith and truce.' she thought. Would Casriel get angry if she did, would R'fariel? True, S'riel had not been R'fariels father, nor the farther of T'van or K'zariel. Would they even care?

'No way to know. S'riel loved him best of all of us. He should have it.' she decided.

Emanoth. Would you please ask Treyath to meet us at the feast. I would speak kindly with him.

I will do this thing. Treyath? My rider would speak gently with yours, if he will allow it.Where would it be most convenient for us to meet with you?

After a moment, Asteriel touched her dragon's mind again.

Let Aliseth know we will be along soon. I must see to something sensitive before joining E'zen at the feast.

Queen Aliseth, dark beauty. My rider will be along soon to join yours. She sees to a matter of a sensitive nature and will be along.

It was a measure of Aliseth's fondness for Emanoth (and, likely, also her exhaustion) that her only reply was a nearly-entirely-asleep rumble of agreement. Nor did she rouse enough to pass on any message to her rider. But, on the fond/bright side, nor did she come awake in a rage and try and kill anyone.

Happy times!

***
Sidran's smiled widened a touch, just the smallest amount, and she put her hand on Br'son's leg as she leaned across a little toward the junior queenriders. "Are your queens pleased with the results of the clutch?" She imagined they would be, but then who knew how shadows would actually react to anything? It was, of course, in her interest to know, whether or not Gaveth, as their sire, would be allowed to chase either of their queens for Turns.

Diversity of bloodlines, however, was not her concern on this particular evening, and so she could be charming and comfortable. Easy as that.

There was so little time to evaluate what had happened. One moment she was a Candidate and the next she was a dragonrider. Ohanith was everything she had ever hoped for and more. Unlike Melieste, she’d never really thought that only a Queen would be a good fit. She was in awe. Aliseth must have sensed something that Ohanith sensed too. While the Shadow slept soundly, she prepared for the Feast and had the unexpected visit from her mother.

Kalabria was sure they were not going to do to her what they had to Kyabree. The Weyr couldn’t afford to be choosy about dragon colors and K’brien was gone. She also knew, despite wishing things were less unfair, that a Queen was still a Queen and with it came prestige. Her family couldn’t afford to sever ties with her. Not if they wanted to remain here.

Her mother was much warmer than her father had been. Her congratulatory comments were sincere. What girl didn’t want her mother to be there when the biggest event in their life had happened? So she may have allowed and accepted her mother’s love and salutations. It also helpd that her mother had volunteered to help Kalabria get ready. All eyes would be on her, Melieste and K’zariel at some point. Not that the other Weyrlings weren’t equally as interesting but being Queenrider always put a person in the spotlight.

Deftly her mother did her hair in two french braids that crisscrossed in the back coming up behind into a pretty and simple updo. That done, she laid out Kalabria’s dress for her and made sure everything was in place before taking her leave. At this rate she would be on time no problem. Maybe even a little early. She didn’t want to be too early either.

Once she was dressed, shoes and accessories on she took in a deep breath and looked lovingly over at the sleeping Ohanith. Goodnight my lovely one.. She thought, wishing she too could get some sleep tonight. Hopefully she could escape early due to needing to be up to take care of dragons.

Next thing she knew she was waiting outside the Feast with the other Weyrlings, waiting to be presented to the Weyr.

((Kalabria's outfit ))

Teagan was completly oblivious to the tension between her Weyrsenior and Weyrleader. She was mostly interested in making up for any gaffs of hers at the hatching. She had gotten rather loud once or twice.

And she felt especially aware of proper decorum in the dress she wore. Different shades of black that twisted and drapped, complimenting the colors of the two shadow Queens perfectly.

"It was amazing to see a hatching and not be part of it," she answered Sidrian, a look of wonder on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, then got that far away look that clearly said Ensieth was communicating with her.

She blinked, and closed her mouth, not entirely sure what she had been about to say. Well, it couldn't have been that important if she forgot it so easily. Right?

Kiry had seen to Veridath and her every need, and watched for quite some time while the green slept. Her bony knees pulled to her chest, she had stared in wonder for what seemed like hours before her own belly and it's growling could no longer be ignored.

She had no fancy clothing to wear; everything she owned were hand me downs from her older brothers. So, saying a silent apology, she went to her mothers chest. Surely she'd be okay with her borrowing something, considering the occasion.

Hissada was not an ornate woman, and her best dress was rather plain. A simple tan sheaf, not completely unlike the candidate robes, with a deep purple overlay of gauze that belted at the waist.

She wasted all of 5 seconds with her hair. There was nothing that could be done to make it do something besides hang there lankly. She picked at the dress, feeling strange in the garment, and made her way uneasily into the dining hall.

J'ril had stormed from the Hatching Cavern once the last Impression was made.  Not that many people had been likely to notice-- he'd lurked among the shadows in the back, simply wanting to see what further abominations the shadow queen and her mate spawned.

Of course, he'd been right to believe she'd pollute the gene pool further, and somehow created two more of her own kind-- more with the potential to hurt Treyath like she had-- but she'd also managed to somehow produce a titanium queen.

That had been unexpected.  Of course, there was nothing to compare them to, what with golds being the only breeders previously, but surely only a titanium should have been able to create another?  Or perhaps it was true that any queen could produce any of the other colors, as well as her own.

If that were the case… then it stood to reason either a titanium or a shadow should be able to produce a gold.  Yet neither had, though both colors had produced titaniums and shadows.  So what would it take to encourage the old colors more, and not so many mutants?

Was the key in the sire of the clutch?  If a normal color male flew one of the mutant females… was it possible she'd produce a gold, instead of a titanium?  It certainly seemed a possibility.  One that bore further consideration.

Emanoth's rider would like to speak with you.  Gently, and in a place most convenient.

J'ril turned on Treyath with a snarl, though the brown knew the expression wasn't meant for him.  Not really.  "Most convenient for whom?"  And gently?  Sharding mutant rider-- who did she think she was?  Special, simply because her dragon had sired this clutch?  And who did she think he was?  Some sort of child to be soothed?

Convenient for you, of course.

That was surprising, but not exactly reassuring.  Was she saying she was willing to belittle herself to speak with him, a lowly brownrider?  "It's not convenient.  I have lots of things to do."  Like… ignoring the feast set about to celebrate the newest genetic anomalies.

Should I tell her this?

Cursing, J'ril responded in the negative.  "No."  Much as he would take pleasure in Treyath relaying that message, a part of him was curious-- and suspicious-- as to what Asteriel could possibly want.  Better to find out, in case it was something that would spread like wildfire among the gossipmongers of the Weyr.

He'd already dealt with that enough.

"She can come here."  Not that he wanted her invading his personal space, but this way he could have the satisfaction of kicking her out if whatever she had to say displeased or annoyed him.  Possibly quite literally.

Our weyr is fine.  If you like.

J'ril sent a glare at his brown for that last, but otherwise remained silent as he waited for a response from his younger half-sister.

Melieste was ready. Naturally, she'd planned all along for this occasion, though her lovely gown was a simple sheath of liquid silvery material. She'd planned to Impress a Titan queen, after all, and had thought that with the application of some blue accessories, it would do very well.

Zillath had snorted in (thankfully not offended) amusement at her rider's presumption, and had rather challengingly wondered what Melieste would do now? Melieste had responded with a loving jab of her own about being prepared for anything, and produced a gorgeous neck collar and matching diadem featuring polished obsidian stones in precious metal wire. Black slippers and formal black gloves to the elbow completed the ensemble, and Melieste was ready to go.

Zillath had sent a pulse of sleepy approval before finally closing her third set of eyelids. As Melieste turned to leave her new quarters in the weyrling barracks, however, Zillath sent her one last admonishment that she was to be sure and care for the members of her team... That being Zillath's team... The other weyrlings, of course.

With that thought in mind, Melieste exited her alcove and started to make her way to the feast. However, before she reached the brightly lit dining cavern, she caught sight of someone else. Someone who didn't look nearly as comfortable or confident. Someone whom Zillath would definitely consider one of "hers".

"Kiry!" Melieste called out, making her voice sound warm and welcoming. "Viridith's rider, right? Congratulations, she's a stunning green. You must be so proud. I'm Melieste, of Shadow Queen Zillath. I don't know that we've met before. What a dramatic Impression! From the stands, of all things! Were you headed in to the feast? You look a little... Down... Perhaps this dress doesn't fit you quite right? You know, I have something that might be just the thing for you... I confess, I'm rather a hoarder of lovely clothes. Would you like to come back to my alcove and see if it feels better on you? A gorgeous pantsuit, classic lines, but fine material...oh! And it's got a green shimmer that you'll love. And perhaps a green ribbon for your hair?"

As she spoke, Melieste warmed to the plan in her mind. Perhaps she could make an ally of this greenrider, and it would help her to gain standing with the rest of her classmates. She wasn't blind to the way people had reacted to her certainty that she would Impress a queen. But it had been her destiny, obviously, and she wouldn't apologize for that.

Now, though, Zillath had made it clear that they needed to create relationships with the others in their class. Fine. Creating relationships was something Melieste was skilled at doing, when she wished.

"Would you like to come?" She asked Kiry again, with an encouraging smile.

***

Tr'cev sighed and flopped, exhausted, onto the cot next to Elhuyath's couch. The tungsten dragon was finally oiled, and not a moment too soon, it had taken forever, since Tr'cev had refused any help for this first time. He'd loved the intimacy of stroking and caring for this sudden love of his life, but Elhuhath was big!

He was tempted to pass out there on the cot, but he could hear the voices of his fellows nearby as they readied themselves for the feast. Duty required that he at least put in an appearance, and it would be good for him to begin to get to know some of his classmates a little better.

Especially the girls, his hormone-charged brain supplied. He grimaced, then grinned, and rolled off the cot.

A quick wash and a few moments later, and Tr'cev was attired in his best trousers of fine, dyed black leather, and a fine linen shirt. He belted his knife on over the shirt and ran a hand through his mercifully short hair. With a last longing look at the sleeping tungsten beast of a dragon, he exited his alcove.

"Who's ready to go?" He called out. "Anyone want to walk over to the feast together? It might be easier to walk in as a group."

Kiry looked a little shell shocked at first. One of the actual candidates, and the rider of one of the Queens at that. This was a very different experience than what she had expected. A small, nervous smile crossed her face. "Congratulations on Zillath," she said first, "and yes, please." She picked at the oversized dress and gave the new shadow rider a wry grin. "I don't own any dresses, everything I have is hand me downs from my brothers. I borrowed this from my mother and it's the only thing remotely nice."

Comparing herself to Melieste was definitely not the way to go. The other girl seeped queenrider. She seeped... well, NOT dragon rider. She had spent most of the time the eggs were hardening out hunting, so she didn't know about the new shadow riders reputation. But any hand offered in help was much appreciated.

"Thank you so much," she finished, relief and gratefulness written all over her face.

Emanoth's answer was wordless but agreeable. He passed words on to Asteriel; it was clear that the smoke dragon was uncomfortable but again Asteriel expressed the need of her decision.

"There cannot always be a rift between us." she whispered, stroking Emanoth's head as he bent to nuzzle her.

-----

Moments later, Asteriel arrive clothed in her pale blue grown, sash about her waist.

"J'ril." She said softly.

K'zariel barely heard the other Candidates as they prepared for the feast.  His senses were completely absorbed in taking in everything about the dragonet curled daintily on the couch next to his cot.

Klaroth was just starting to doze, content in the knowledge that her needs had all been met, that the immediate 'problems' had all been fixed (namely that the hungry rumbling in her stomach had been assuaged, her drying and beginning-to-itch hide had been oiled to a lovely blue-gray sheen, and the most suitable couch had been chosen for her.)  She had her rider nearby, in case she needed anything else, and K'zariel was perfectly happy with taking the opportunity just to watch her.  He had nowhere else he'd rather be.

Sitting on his cot, he was close enough he could reach out and touch the little titanium's side, though he resisted the urge so he wouldn't wake her and kept his chin resting in his hands, elbows on his knees.  He was still in his robes and barefoot, as he'd been since before the Hatching, and his life had completely changed.

That was how T'van found him, calling through the curtain that sectioned off his alcove before pulling it aside when his older brother failed to answer.

"Zar?  You're still here?"

"Yeah."  There wasn't a single trace of sarcasm at the obvious, which made T'van raise a brow.

"You going to the feast like that?"

"Hmm?"

"The feast?  You know, the big party that follows every hatching?"

K'zariel tilted his head slightly, as if considering.  "Maybe."

Ty frowned, stepping further into the alcove and gesturing behind him.  "Pretty much everybody else is ready.  You should change."

At that, the weyrling queenrider looked down at himself, wondering what was wrong with his clothes.  "Oh?"

"Oh for… You're still in your robe.  Come on, big brother.  Klaroth will still be here."  And Ty moved forward to grab his brother's arm and attempt to haul him to his feet.  Relaxed as he was and not helping in the least, K'zariel was mostly dead weight.  The quartzrider gave up and opened his brother's trunk, rifling through it to find something he hoped was suitable for a queenrider to wear.  Since it wasn't like his brother could wear a dress…

Snorting at that, T'van eyed his besotted sibling and figured Zar wouldn't even notice if that's what he was handed to put on.  "Get up, Zar.  We're going to be late."  When he heard the summons from outside the alcove, he called out, "We'll be there in a minute!  My brother's in love with his little queen here."

Maybe he should ask the others for help in manhandling his brother to get him up and moving?

Devakith did not sleep as quickly as some but like the others he too succumbed to exhaustion, a full stomach and a well oiled hide. Z’phver was surprised to find his things had shown up at the Barracks. He didn’t actually think his dad would think to bring them but he must have. Or maybe his brother had. The fact that whichever of them who had did not remain here to see him was not at all unexpected. They were both rather quiet people who were not interested in big fanfare. He noted that his best suit had been cleaned and pressed.

The tie was… different? He’d never worn a bowtie before. So he looked at it suspiciously. It was as orange as Devakith’s hide and hopefully lent him a look of standing out but also fitting in. He wanted to be part of the group in the best of ways. He’d always tried to get people to like him even if they were impossible.

At Tr’cev’s call he combed back his hair one more time. “I’m ready!”

Peering back in at the other men getting themselves situated they came to stop on K’zariel. “Hey, K’zariel, you know they’ll be expecting you especially.”  It seemed to fall on deaf ears but his brother had gone over to move him along so Z'phver let it go.

At this H’nar popped up. “Can someone do this tie thing for me? Who invented these things?” He said in exasperation as it nearly choked him.

Z’phver was no expert but what H’nar was doing was definitely wrong.

Grinning at Tr’cev, “Maybe we should help these guys out and then all go together?” And by guys he meant K’zariel and H’nar.  Someone (T'van) needed to put some fire under the new Titanium rider’s ass. And H’nar...well...H’nar needed serious help with it looked like, everything.

“Tr’cev… would you mind checking to see if any of the girls are ready. We can all go together?” Z’phver looked back at the project H’nar had become.

“H’nar you really cannot go looking disheveled like that.” He was a canyon raised street brat and he knew better! What was with these Weyrbrats? “Here, let’s tuck your shirt in. Don’t move I can fix your tie. You’ll want to either have your hair out of your face or at least really well brushed. We’re dragonriders now, so appearances are important. Everyone will be looking at us.”

H’nar rolled his eyes. What exactly was wrong with looking disheveled anyway? Then of course Z’phver was right. Ugh, he sounded like some Bronzerider already. Spoilsport! Z’phver wasn’t always this serious. In fact he was generally more likely to have fun than not but given the state of things in the men’s side of the barracks, someone had to take charge and get people out to the Feast looking halfway decent.

H’nar was ready before long, with Z’phver calling over to T'van and K'zariel. "You guys ready?"

((Z'phver , H'nar))

Tianrith stared down at her hide. Is it always so shiny? The dragon was in love with her hide being oiled already. "Yes and it makes you feel good too right?"Right. So when can we do this again?

Laughing, "Not till you've slept." The scarlet immediately laid her head down but didn't sleep right away. She watched as Lezsande got dressed, admiring the pretty materials and the jewelry. Until finally she couldn't hold it off any longer. Lezsande was both glad for her dragon to sleep and sorry for it. She wished they could just spend the night together talking away, like two friends at a sleepover.

They needed to talk about the deep stuff.

Until then, Lezsande would get ready and go to the Feast and hopefully get back here before she really started to miss wine and male companionship. She made a loose braid over the top of her head, crowning herself with it, then allowed the loose curls to fall where they might. She added a couple embellishments to hold the braid so it was harder to see where the hair at the end stuck out.

Her gown was a pale rose pink and flowed like a grecian styled gown.

With Kalabria already gone and the new greenrider being...readied, by Melieste, Lezsande knew there would be one more young woman who might need some assistance. From what she knew of her sister thus far she was more boyish in how she dressed and attacked life. Which was great most of the time but the weyr would expect to see a dragonrider and not a young girl who ran around with boys all day.

She walked over to her sister, took one look at her and shook her head. "Please tell me you aren't going in that?"

((Lezsande))

Tr'cev nodded at Z'pver's suggestion and headed toward the girls' side of the barracks.  He stopped though, and peered in to K'zariel's alcove with a thoughtful frown.

"Wait, I might have an idea," he said, and turned to hustle back to his own alcove. He dug in among the clothes in his press until he came up victoriously holding a small flask. He'd never nipped out of it, but it had been his Da's, and he'd once seen it used to good effect in a situation not terribly dissimilar to this.

He ran back to K'zariel's alcove and held the flask out to T'van.

"Here," he said. "Give him a shot of this. It should snap him out of nearly anything short of a coma. Not too much, though. It's supposed to be really strong and harsh.

***

Melieste hummed as she helped Kiry dress in a lovely ensemble that consisted of a pair of tailored trousers and a hip-length embroidered tunic. The trousers were a touch too long, but Melieste solved that problem by rolling the waist and hiding it under a wide belt. She ran her brush through Kiry's limp hair, and added some freshening powder to soak up any stray oils. Then she brushed it again and used a wide green ribbon that matched the tunic's embroidery to smooth the greenrider's hair back from her face.

"Lovely," she said, leaning back. It wasn't entirely a lie, either. Kiry still looked thin and almost boyish with her lack of a figure, but her face was pretty enough once her hair had been styled.

"One more touch," she said, pulling out a necklace of jade and leather, and tying it on.

"Beautiful," she finally pronounced. "Now you look like a proper greenrider. Shall we see if any of the other ladies are ready to go? It seems that it would be appropriate for several of us to arrive together. Show of unity and all that."

She held out her small looking glass for Kiry to use, if she liked.

Kiry took the looking glass, a little scared. Melieste had been doing very strange things to her hair, and the outfit was even more alien to her than the dress. She'd almost swallowed her tongue when the new queenrider put the necklace on her: that jade stone was probably worth more than the entirety of her belongings. She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, expecting the worst...

And shocked to see that she looked PRETTY. Whatever magic Melieste had worked on her hair had done wonders. Without the mop of hair in it, her face had some beautiful angles, with sharp cheekbones and eyes that tilted slightly upwards.

"Wow," she said, amazed, raising her eyes to Melieste. "I.. I don't even know how to thank you. I didn't think I could look like... this!" A huge smile broke across her face, and there might have even been a tear of happiness.

Considering she'd just pulled out her nicest tunic and pants (which wasn't saying much next to Lezsande's pink gown, if Leocera were one to care about such things), Leo glanced down at her plain, but clean, attire.  "Why not?  What's wrong with it?"

The brown trousers and green tunic were serviceable, had no holes, and were nicer than what she usually wore.  The green actually managed set off the reddish tint in her shoulder-length hair-- which she was wearing down at the moment, in deference to the occasion-- and brown eyes.  "Would a belt help?"  She might have a nice wide one somewhere…

We do not need fancy.  I will be with you and everyone will know how awesome we are, Cairnth interjected.

Wincing slightly, Leo reached out to scratch the semi-sleepy quartz's eye ridge.  "Sorry, Cairnth, but the feast is for humans only.  You can't come."

Pouting, Cairnth lashed her tail as she watched her rider search for this 'belt' thing amongst her belongings.  Not willing to give up on the subject yet, she spoke directly to Aivrith, wondering what he thought about going. Has your rider told you we are not to go to this feast?

“You’re welcome,” Melieste replied with a smile. She took the looking glass back from Kiry and set it gently on her clothes press. “It isn’t hard. You’re really rather pretty. It’s just a matter of playing up your assets and minimizing your flaws. I can certainly show you how… But later. For now, we have a feast to attend.”

She held the alcove curtain aside and winked at Kiry, indicating that the green weyrling should precede her out. She threw one last loving look at Zillath and then followed.

“Leszande?” She called softly as they walked by the other girl’s alcove, “Leocera? Kalabria? Yosra? Would you ladies like to walk down to the feast together? Kiry and I are ready!”

Casriel brushed her hair slowly, gathering all her thoughts, smiles, winks, wants, needs and wondered how she spend through them as the evening winded down. There was so much new fact and there was so much to the old pattern. Her eyes saw nothing as she stared at the wall at her desk, brush sliding through her shimmering hair. On the bed, empty save for Victory and a dress.

"Garrah..." she breathed. "I wish you could have seen this day."

Casriel put down the brush and stood, comfortable in her nudity as she crossed the length of her weyr. She ignored the dress. She opened her chest, pulling out what she really wanted.
***

I am always with you. Maraxith said as she dismounted.

I know. As I am with you. Casriel replied.

Her walk ate up the ground before her and she breached the entrance to the Mess Hall in short order. Victory rode across her shoulders, shimmering pure gold against Casriel's black leather riding jacket. On the collar, a plum shaded cobalt dragon was emblazoned, the fine embroidery studded with tiny beads to give the illusion the dragon's eyes winked blue. Her shirt was deep purple, her pants leather, tight and black as night. Her boots clicked sharply on the stone floor and her beautiful hair swung generously as she walked in a high imperial ponytail. Her Wingleader's knots were pressed and sharply pinned to her shoulder.

She was every bit the dragon rider. She smiled, devouring the crowd with her intense gaze.

Lezsande shook her head. “I know you don’t want to wear anything too fancy but you are a dragonrider now.” She reminded her. Not that all dragonriders had to look great but it put out that a person had a certain amount of respect for themselves and their position. It was also a matter of respecting her new clutchmates too. Although most probably wouldn’t see it that way. What Leocera wore would reflect on all of them.

“Come with me.” She said, not really giving her sister a chance to say no. “Green is a nice color on you. We just need to dress it up a little.” Not even that much. She had a brown belt with a somewhat ornate tree in a blunt, silver metallic at the buckle, which she handed to Leo immediately. “Put this on and allow me to use this hair clip for part of your hair so people can see your face. Mother gave it to me when I was eleven but you need it more than I.” Lezsande said as she used a brush to smooth Leocera’s hair. She pulled the front of her hair back into the antique silver clip.

“Looks better but I have one more thing…” She rummaged through her chest which had all sorts of items being thrown out of it and onto the cot. “Ah ha! There you are you sneaky little…” she took the thick bracelet out. another antique of hers, it was made of a dark burnished copper and went with the brown her sister had going on. Though it seemed rather plain it still had an ornate design on the front. And most importantly it wasn’t uncomfortable or flashy.

“Alright! I think Leocera and I are ready!” She said as she walked out of the alcove. “Oh, Kalabria went on ahead. I think she was trying to get there early or something…” Lezsande laughed. They were all going to be late.

Kiry walked out ahead of Melieste, feeling very vulnerable and almost naked. Thankfully no one was gawking. She shot a long, loving look back at the alcove where her Veridath was sleeping, a large part of her wanting to curl up next to the little green and just go to sleep.

But Faranth she was hungry.


Jah'vi was taking advantage of his status to NOT sit at the big table with the grownups, and instead had set up a table for his own Wing. Plenty of booze, of course. He glanced up at the head table, where Casriel and Sidrian were about to make poor Br'son have an aneurysm and chuckled.

He needed to steal a quick moment of the Weyrseniors' time, but he would attempt to do it when he wasn't being pulled between two beautiful cobalt riders. His little junior had been behaving very odd tonight, and he could see the blackness continuing. She might have been a scheming little brat, but she was an endearing scheming little brat, and a queen rider to boot. If Br'son hadn't noticed the oddness yet, it needed to be addressed.

Z'ash wasn't a rider on Jah'vi wing; he rode on Sidran's. An honor, to be sure but the young bronzerider had still felt a pang being separated from the older bronzerider of which he was fond of and respected. As the Weyrleader was clearly busy, Z'ash took the opportunity to slid in behind Jah'vi.

"What's funny?" he asked, looking from Jah'vi to the place where Wingleader Casriel had just entered.
-------------------

Jah'vi gave Z'ash a big grin. He knew there were high hopes for the bronzerider; shards, he had high hopes for the pair two! Since there was no way Nolinth would be challenging the cobalts for Yvalleth, he was the leading contender for a bronze flying a titanium or a shadow.

"Let me teach you something," he said, offering the younger bronzerider a seat next to him and a glass of Lightening. "Women with confidence in themselves, they don't pull the damsel in distress stuff. They go for the strong, powerful look. Just like our beautiful Weyrleader and Weyrleader there." He nodded at the two cobaltriders. "You'll never see them in frilly dresses, batting their eyelashes at a man."

Then he redirected his view to Br'son. "And that is the ruin of us as men. Because strong women will always, always, make us feel like kids again." He toasted the two powerful women at the dais and threw his drink back.

Yosra sat up from her contemplation of the sleeping Ferradith at the sound of her name. She was comfortable, not fancy, and after looking around at their gathered loveliness, at least reached up to unplait her hair. As usual, it had the effect of taking her from severe closer to stunning, and she'd have to let that be that.

"Ready," she said, realizing all of the sudden how desperately hungry she was, despite having dinner a handful of hours before. "There's food at these things, right?"

Once everyone at the head table was seated (Br'son flanked by Sidran and E'zen, a chair for Asteriel on E'zen's other side, Teagan on the far side of Sidran), Br'son relaxed a small bit.  He even managed to pour Sidran some wine without slopping it all over the table, which was a victory to be sure.  

One of the servingmen came around and offered them selections from the buffet table that everyone else was already enjoying.  Br'son gladly took some of everything, while racking his brain trying to think of what to say to the Weyrleader.  

No idea.  Zero.  Complete blank.  

So, somewhat in desperation, he turned to E'zen instead.  

"So, what does Aliseth have to say about her performance?" he asked.  "I'm certain it's amusing.  All queens are arrogant, to a degree, but it tends to manifest differently.  I know how Yllaveth would have reacted to laying three queens in a clutch of less than fifteen eggs.  How did Aliseth respond?"

***

"Oh," Melieste said to the news that Kalabria had already left.  She thought about waking Zillath to try and call her back through Ohanith, but decided against it.  Zillath was sleeping so peacefully, a heavy, delicious weight in the back of her mind.  She didn't want to disturb that.  

"Well," the shadowrider went on.  "Perhaps we'll catch her outside.  Does anyone know if the boys are ready to go?  Oh!  Leocera, Leszande, you both look lovely!"  

Perhaps not as lovely as she, herself, did.  But they'd each made an effort, and that was enough for now.

Then Yosra joined them, and Melieste felt a rather uncomfortable awareness that this former sea-trader turned smokerider was much prettier than she'd originally imagined.

In her sleep, Zillath stirred, as if Melieste's thoughts bothered her. Melieste took a deep breath and smiled at Yosra.

"Yosra! Your hair is so beautiful down! I understand why you put it up for working purposes, but... wow. You're all so lovely, I feel quite privileged to be seen with each of you!" Another smile for Kiry at that, and then she nodded meaningfully toward the door to the boys' side.

"I suppose we should get them," she said, moving in that direction. It occurred to her that as the sole queenrider present, she was rather the ranking member of the girls. At least until Kalabria (who was quite a bit younger) returned. Melieste wasn't sure how things would shake out between herself and K'zariel on that front, but it didn't matter. There would be plenty of time to figure that out. Tonight was for building relationships. Sorting the rank structure would wait.