Post by NPCs on Nov 10, 2012 20:56:19 GMT -5
Weyrleader N'kem and rose Rath
N'kem wandered into the hatching sands in the late afternoon, hair washed, combed and dried after a day of longer than usual patrols. His clothes, similarly, had been changed, to cream pants, matching soft leather boots, and a shimmering green shirt. His belt knife was silver and opals; a recent purchase and one he was quite proud of, resting beside him. Rath was already there, settled in the sands to the side of the door, his eyes trained on Mareth as she dug and scratched in the sands, several eggs already laid, their shells soft and covered in clinging sands.
Mareth ignored the Weyrleader, but Tyrella did not. She was wearing soft, strict brown skirt and tunic, her ears standing upright as she frowned at N'kem. It was the most casual clothing he'd seen her wear, and she sat in one of the lowest seats in the stands, a folded blanket and empty cup of klah beside her, another cup in her hands. N'kem had heard from T'on that she had more casual clothing, but had never seen her wear it. He ignored her frown, striding over to Rath to scratch the ridge above his eye. "Hey Rath, how's it going?"
"You're late," Tyrella said. The frown was audible, though N'kem expected it had become visibly smaller to compensate.
It is well. There are eleven eggs now, and Mareth says there are more. I think they are very large. Rath's voice was proud, paying no attention to the Weyrwoman's anger with his rider.
I think they are, Rath. You did very well, N'kem answered, continuing to scratch Rath's eye as he turned to Tyrella. "We took long patrols today."
"Rath was here a candlemark ago."
"You don't have a candle, you don't know that. It wasn't that long."
"It was too long." Tyrella was no longer looking at him, her eyes drifting back to Mareth and the eggs. "These are your eggs, too."
"They're Rath's eggs. He was here, and I needed to change." N'kem let himself roll his eyes, leaning against Rath and letting his own gaze drift to the eggs as well. Rath was right; they did seem to be a bit larger than the usual clutch. This would be a good hatching.
"You are the Weyrleader, regardless of your conduct. Every dragon in the Weyr is yours, and you should show more concern for them." Her tone was taut, snapping, and Mareth paused for a moment to look at her rider before snorting and returning her attention to the sands, crouching to lay another egg.
N'kem shrugged to himself, but said nothing. What, precisely, Tyrella wanted of him had never been clear; not to him at least. She seemed to think it was too clear to bother explaining.
The silence survived for several minutes before T'on appeared, carrying two plates of food, followed by Honath. "Tyrella," T'on called, "I assumed you hadn't eaten yet." The bronze dragon edged carefully inside the opening, settling as close to it as he could be without blocking it. He rumbled a greeting to Rath and Mareth; Rath returned it, while Mareth watched him for a while before silently returning to digging in the sand.
T'on started at Rath's greeting, turning to N'kem. "Oh, I didn't think you'd be here yet." His face smiled, perhaps larger than he felt but not fake, and his eyes didn't quite flick down to the two matching plates he was carrying. "Are you hungry? I brought--"
"You didn't bring it for me, don't worry about it." N'kem waved off his brother's offer, instead straightening and heading toward the exit and the kitchens. "I'll just get my own. People will want to hear about the eggs anyway."
"No, really, you can... er... alright, then." His older brother's protest was not, perhaps, as strong as it could have been, though it was enough for the motions of rank. Tyrella said nothing.
N'kem shook his head as he left. Tyrella and T'on constantly insisted that there was nothing but friendship between them; he didn't see why they bothered. It wasn't like anyone in the Weyr thought that Tyrella had ever liked N'kem, after all, and N'kem was certainly under no illusions. Nor was he bothered by it; the dragons decided what they wanted, and he was quite proud of Rath, but he hadn't ever fancied Tyrella like Rath fancied Mareth. He was perfectly happy with younger, prettier girls, who didn't expect more than some flattery from him. Weyrleader and Weyrwoman didn't have to be weyrmates, and N'kem was perfectly happy not to be.
Tyrella, however, seemed to disagree, and it wasn't until a week later that N'kem was allowed into the hatching sands to see the fifteen eggs that Rath had told him about and sent images of. They were nested in the sand, a few grains still clinging to the hardening shells, three particularly large ones mixed in with the rest, which Mareth would later separate. N'kem marveled at them; no one was quite sure whether those three contained queens or not, but the fact that anyone considered that three different eggs in the same clutch might be queens said something very good about Rath. Hopefully at least two of them would be queens; T'on had said that Tyrella was excited at the possibility of multiple queens, and N'kem had no desire to deal with a disappointed Tyrella--or, for that matter, a disappointed Rath--at any point.