After Hatching Feast! [Open]

[Rouxy]

Who: Everyone
Where Great Hall
What: After Hatching Feast!
When: Full dark, about two candlemarks after the end of the hatching.


The kitchens had shifted into overdrive as soon as the hatching thrum rang through the air, and to their credit, they’d turned out a rather magnificent spread in a rather short time. Roasted wherry both on the bone and off, platters of eel and different types of fish were all set out for perusal. Meatrolls stuffed with different types of meat, from wherry, herdbeast and flatfish. Larger containers of Klah sat on each long table, while fresh bread lay in piles next to the various meats. A thick stew, cheese wedges and slices of redfruit topped off the food variety. Wine of various types and fruit juice sat in chilled pitchers near the food tables.

The Weyrleader was by no means the first person to walk through the archway into the Great Hall, and he casually strolled up the way, greeting people here and there. His mind was partially on those injured in the hatching, and he’d be sure to have a full platter sent down to the infirmary for Tess and her patients. The healer certainly had set to with a passion soon as the last weyrling was bonded. He admired that about her, though he’d never actually say it aloud! Enough that she didn’t respect his position… he grinned to himself at the outright lies his mind decided to tell while he was distracted. Good friends were allowed to ignore certain aspects of propriety after all, and it wasn’t like K’roi actually cared about such trifling things.

His mental meandering gradually led him to the head table, vacant of both the Weyrwoman, Wingleaders and various Masters. Pah, why was he always the one stuck at these social events? Just because Samhara hated them even more than he did… Nearly pouting for about half a second, the bronzerider plopped into his seat, snagging a bottle of wine and pouring a full glass of the rich red. He took a gulp without bothering to slow down and taste the Benden, and the wine dropped into his empty stomach like a hammer. Perhaps you should eat something before that hits you too hard. No need to make a fool of yourself yet again. As always, your confidence in me is overwhelming. The bronzerider frowned at his absent dragon, and snagged a nearby piece of bread to placate his nanny. His eyes began roaming the Hall as a drudge brought up a platter for the head table now that it had an occupant. He nodded his thanks and took a meatroll, sending a mental call to his hungry flitter as he ate it. Sakki appeared overhead seconds later, and he began breaking pieces of fish apart to offer the jewel-like green who sat wrapped around his neck, tail tucked in the collar of his loose dark-hued shirt.

***
Upon waking, Rozen had heard the happy news from other evening types. The clutch had hatched, and now the promised feast was beginning. Well, she did have the Nightwatch to tend to, but she could spare about a candlemark to grab some better than average dinner and maybe even a conversation. Who knew? Rozen knew few people outside the -very- small wherhandler pool, and that wasn’t prime in her opinion. Rozsk was still lounging lazily on her couch, the gold’s stocky body gradually unkinking from sleep as she stretched out each limb, neck and tail last. She peered over at her handler, noting that the woman was dressing a bit nicer than usual. Zeek made a warbling entrance as he landed on her head, leaning down to nuzzle against Rozen’s cheek.

The goldhandler gave the brown an affectionate rub and frowned at Rozsk. “No, I am not showing off. I just want to make a decent impression. After all, all those unimpressed candidates might just be interested in your babies, oh golden one.” The woman flashed a brief smile at the wher, who snorted in amusement and retuned to her rest. “Yes, yes, I’ll come and get you when we’re ready to begin the watch, love. I’ll even bring you a bit of something tasty from the Hall to go with your herdbeast haunch.” This seemed to please the wher, who sent as much via a brilliant flash of happy color.

Rozen entered the Great Hall, now familiar with the Weyr’s layout from her couple of sevendays living there. It helped that the entire place smelled delicious. The place was about a fourth full, if her estimates of just how many people lived in the Weyr were accurate. Luckily, there were still empty tables, and she scooped up a filled plate and a glass of fruit juice before heading to a table about mid center, so she could see the doorway and anyone who entered.

[Kaemi]

Well, now, this just wouldn't do. His best friend, injured from a hatchling dragon! Swiped across the legs, and upsetting Tydus. L'mar wouldn't stand for such, especially considering she had just been taken to the Infirmary without further thought after the Hatching was done. She hadn't seemed to have the capabilities of walking, so he was going to the Infirmary, himself, to make sure that she didn't miss the Feast! That right there would be the real pity of any injury she had, after all.

Walking down to the Infirmary, L'mar debated on whether or not to insist that she come to the Feast however she could, or to make sure that she stayed where she was. Indecisive, he turned his head to look at Tydus. “What do you think, little king? Should Rael come to the Hatching Feast, or should we make sure she heals right and proper in the Infirmary?” When in doubt... ask a firelizard who couldn't exactly respond. Or whatever else works. The weyrlings grinned at the bronze, waiting for him to give some sort of reply which would decide what they would do upon reaching the Infirmary.

First and foremost, however, was reaching it. Are you ever coming back to the Barracks, Mine? It earned a chuckle. Oh, sweetheart, I'll be back tonight. I just need to make sure that my favorite girl-- besides you, of course-- is well. Disregarding the huff that accompanied his words, L'mar continued walking. Hush, lovey. The green curled back up, tucked their blue, unnamed 'nuisance' under her wingtip, and went to sleep again. She would hush, there right!

The Infirmary was bustling all around, but he still walked right on in and looked around for Rael. “Raelwyn!” he called, trying to find her. “Where are you??”

[Thorney]

It would have been quite the understatement to say that Tydus was unhappy. In fact, the bronze was one furious little firelizard. When the hatchling-green-bigwing had dared, DARED, to hurt His girl, the flit practically exploded with rage, ready to plow into the dragonet and give her Fall and Fire for what she did. However, he was not allowed. No, no, His had forbid him, His had made him stay with the boy-who-called-him-king. And though Ty did like the one bonded with the other green bigwing, he wanted more to be with His girl. He had worried and cried piteously as she was taken away, but finally the boy-who-called-him-king was going to visit His.

Tilting his head to the side, the bronze regarded the boy as he spoke, understanding some of the words. Though a firelizard, Tydus was intelligent enough, and his eyes whirled in response. Unfurling his wings, the flit began to chitter and squawk excitedly. Feast, His girl, Infirmary? His needed food, food to make her strong! Their bond was weak, and food would make it better. As they entered the large place that smelled weird, the bronze leapt to attention, looking for His.

~~~~

Finally beginning to stir, Raelwyn sucked in a breath and groaned softly, waiting for the fog to clear from her head. Feeling dizzy and lightheaded, the candidate began to recite ballads in her mind to help herself focus. When the haze finally lifted and she began to think clearly, the girl slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the light of the infirmary glows. She remembered Tess binding the cuts on her legs, and being carried here on a stretcher, but after that, her memory was nearly a blank. She did recall something said about shock and blood loss, but not much else. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she looked around the bustling infirmary, trying to spot someone she could ask about leaving.

About to move off the cot, the harper gasped as her legs gave a sharp pain of denial, refusing to move without complaint. Shaking her head, the girl sighed, and was surprised to see a healer already at her side. With a reproving look, the man told her in no uncertain terms that Tess had ordered her not to walk, and if she was going anywhere, someone was going to be carrying her. With one last, sharp look, the healer left. Raelwyn scowled, a most uncharacteristic expression, and sighed. Now how was she supposed to get to the Feast? It would be starting now, and here she was in her sharding Impression robe, with sand in her hair from lying down. Of course, she was very grateful to Tess, who had been gentle and kind when helping her, but she did want to go to the Feast too.

Suddenly, she felt her bronze nearby, their bond beginning to grow again as her head cleared, and not long after, a very familiar voice was heard above the hustle and bustle of the infirmary. Now that voice had the ability to make her smile, even in these circumstances. “L’mar!” She shouted, and just a second later Tydus hopped off the weyrling’s shoulder and darted to His girl as quickly as he could, pausing only long enough to hover in front of the boy’s face and chirp commandingly, expecting him to follow. “Tydus!” Raelwyn exclaimed, scratching the bronze lovingly and waiting for L’mar to get close enough to speak to.

[Maykat]

All things considered, Batavia’s body was actually feeling pretty good. She had eight neat, clean stitches across the center of her stomach, right above her navel. The scratch continued on both sides for several more inches but wasn’t deep enough to require being sewn together. Now her stomach was slathered in numbweed and wrapped with a bandage, and despite feeling sore and not wanting to twist her body, Batavia was feeling pretty good. The skin of Tillek wine she had already put away was helping matters also.

She had taken it off a serving girl on her way back from the infirmary to the barracks and finished it off while getting ready. The sponge bath had helped her mental state as much as her physical; at least she wasn’t covered in sweat and sand anymore. He had literally let her hair down and it hung down her back in rippling waves. It was greasy at the crown and around her hairline but her stomach hurt too bad to bend over and wash it properly. Her other two best assets were on full display, pushed up by a breastband and framed by a low cut tunic.

A plate of food in each hand and with several wine skins hanging off her arms, Batavia slowly navigated the throngs of people at the Feast. She headed for a table in the corner where several other left-over candidates were sitting. Batavia could see her own emotions mirrored on the faces of her peers: disappointment, embarrassment, resignation, a forced cheerfulness. She slid the plates onto the table first, and then unloaded her wineskins. “In honor of the big occasion,” she said with a grin, “I thought we all might like a treat.” With a flourish, she unhooked a smaller pouch from her belt. “Quickal. Guaranteed to put hair your chest.” Batavia took the first swig and passed it to the left.

[Kaemi]

With the fuming bronze flitt on his shoulder, L'mar darted his gaze about the Infirmary, trying to find Rael. It ended up being the bronze that led him to her. He heard his name called out, but he wasn't altogether sure where it came from, and he was still looking- trying to find where the voice had originated from- when Tydus launched off of his shoulder. Well, there she was! He waved, walking over to the cot where she was struggling to sit up. “Shouldn't you be resting?” he inquired as soon he was close enough to be heard without shouting. “Thanks, king,” he added with a gesture towards the flitt.

“Those are some nasty cuts,” he judged, purely from the bandaging. It was a serious kind of bandaging, for a serious kind of cuts... or so L'mar assumed. He wasn't big on anything having to do with healing, but he wasn't a dimglow, and everyone knew that the thicker the bandaging, the deeper the cut. “But... and this is just my own personal judgment... I think you'll survive.” The weyrling said this with all serious, making it seem as though he was the definite say on the subject, and she no longer needed to worry about near-death concerns. Ending it with a smile, which he deemed 'charming', he sat on the bed.

Making himself comfortable on the hard cot, he looked back up at the injured Rael. “You know, Tydus and I were discussing whether we should make sure that you stay here and heal, or drag you to the Feast. His answer was remarkably inconclusive, so I suppose it's up to you.” He paused. “And by you, of course, I mean the Healers. What do they have to say?” If their places were switched, and it was him who wanted to go, after the Healers told him that he should rest... then he would, of course, lie and tell Rael that he was free to go. Moral of the story: L'mar would, more likely than not, check with a Healer to verify her words if she said she could leave.

It was only because he didn't want her to hurt herself, of course. L'mar honestly was worried about her... which was, of course, why he was here. Although if she asked, he would tell her it was because Tydus dragged him here. Well, that was true as well. But he would have come without the bronze. She was his best friend!

[Thorney]

Grinning sheepishly at L’mar as he approached and spoke about her trying to sit up, the candidate allowed herself to fall backwards on the cot with no grace at all, neither self-conscious nor embarrassed in the slightest around the boy. “Technically, I suppose so.” She replied, the throb in her legs and heartache at not Impressing easing with his company. Somehow, the weyrling was a soothing presence, and though he kept her on her toes, he also made her feel like she was just perfect the way she was. Her true best friend. Sighing dramatically, Raelwyn fixed her green gaze on the boy before her, then said, “I would get bedridden right before a Feast, wouldn’t I? I have a talent for perfect timing.” Chuckling, the girl flicked her eyes down to her flit then, watching in amusement at Tydus chirped a response to L’mar. The bronze then curled up in the curve where her shoulders met her neck, trying to cuddle as close to her as possible and rubbing his head against her chin.

Absently scratching her flit, the candidate once more gave her best friend her attention, smiling crookedly in response. “Nasty enough, but I’m inclined to agree. I’m fairly certain I will indeed live.” Chuckling softly, Raelwyn winked at her visitor. “Thanks doctor.” Actually, Tess had arrived quickly enough, and had bandaged her wounds so as to keep sand from entering the gashes. Although they hurt, it was nothing all that serious. Well, serious enough as to keep her from walking, but she could think of another candidate she did not envy at the moment. She wondered how Zan was doing. He looked bad. “Actually, a doctor did came by and tell me I would be fine.”

Glancing down at the weyrling as he sat, she grinned, brightening considerably at the thought of being able to attend the Feast. Sure, she didn’t Impress, but that didn’t mean she wanted to brood in the infirmary or the barracks instead of congratulate the ones who did. “I’m sure Tydus is of the opinion I should, in fact, go.” Rael replied, quite serious in tone and expression, though her eyes were dancing. “Isn’t that correct, my dear bronze?” Looking questioningly at her flit, the candidate nodded sagely as he chirped excitedly, and then turned her gaze back to L’mar. “Tydus is indeed persuaded I should go.”

This time, however, Raelwyn sighed in seriousness, her green eyes turning darker. “Actually, I have spoken to a healer already. He did indeed say I would be fine, I am forbidden from walking.” The girl gave a half-hearted smile, gaze lingering on the weyrling seated on her cot. “He said if I was going anywhere, I would have to be carried.” The candidate was silent for a moment, then a mischievous expression slipped across her face, and she grinned at L’mar. Oh, she would have to be carried, but, wasn’t that what best friends were for? But oh, shards, she looked a mess, and she was still in her Impression robe!

[Kaemi]

Listening to her histrionic noises and speech, L'mar rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “A talent for perfect timing, hm?” he asked, the beginnings of a scheme forming in his mind. Then he shook his head and focused back on Raelwyn- the weyrling could think of all these lovely things later. Now, however, was one of the few times he could spend time with his best friend. Deadpan, he continued, “See, I wouldn't call that perfect timing. I'd call that terrible timing... unless you're bordering along antisocial and hate large gatherings with delighted people. Is that your secret, Raelwyn? Are you practically antisocial, and do you loathe happy people and their get-togethers?” He shook his head in disappointment at his final determination. “I guess that's okay... I mean, I'm still your best friend...” Now it was his turn to give an overly-dramatic sigh.

“No problem, my devoted patient,” he said, smiling at her. As she continued to talk, L'mar pouted. “Does that mean that you didn't trust my diagnosis just all on my own?” the weyrling asked, the beginnings of sulking infusing his voice. He huffed quietly, and then dropped the act completely to purely grin. In all actuality, he had been worried that she wasn't completely fine. Sure, she wouldn't die from a few leg wounds, not with the care they had here. Blood loss couldn't have been extensive enough to cause her any serious damage. But the little green dragon that had cut her before running over to the girl that S'ren had claimed looked like him may had nicked something serious. Of course he didn't know enough about healing to... well... know anything about that. But surely she would have been less cheery if something serious had been injured, other than skin.

Good, she wanted to go. Now that he knew that she was alright, L'mar would have been upset if she didn't. Still, he rolled his eyes. He had been doing that a lot... “Your little king probably just wants to go to find the little green that did this to you and claw her eyes out,” the weyrling said with a grin. He knew that dragons couldn't be held accountable for what they did as hatchlings, especially considering that it was a rare case, indeed, when they remembered what they did, but Tydus had been an angry, spitting little bronze on the way over here. He seemed better now that he knew that his bonded was alive and well, at least.

She had to be carried? Well, that posed a problem... except, not. As soon as that expression came onto her face, L'mar stood, brushed off his tunic and trousers, and then swept her off the bed to cradle her in his arms. “Well, then, I guess that takes care of that,” he told her with a smile just as mischievous. “Do you want to change out of your robe, or just go straight to the Hatching Feast? You don't look stunning, but right next to me, nobody will notice.” A wink. In all reality, she didn't look all that bad. She would probably still want to change, though.

[Lissa]

Aidaen had entered the great hall morosely, his head down and his step heavy. He felt sure that this would be his last good meal so he was determined to get as much of it as he could hold. He had even brought a rough linen sack to squirrel away as much bread and meatrolls as he could. He had an excuse all ready should someone notice and question his appropriating of the food. He simply would say that he was taking the bread and meatrolls to a couple of rejected candidates who didn't feel up to the feast. In a way it was true. *He* had been rejected and *he* really didn't feel up to the feast, even though he went.

Aidaen trudged down the line at the food tables, filling his plate with as much as it would hold, including a large hunk of bread and a handful of meatrolls. He helped himself to a glass of chilled fruit juice, glancing longingly at the wine, which was watched over by a serving woman. With an unhappy sigh he found a seat at the candidates' table, largely ignoring the entire happy crowd. After all, for him it wasn't a happy occasion...it marked his failure and his likely expulsion from the Weyr. He'd be sent back to his cot in disgrace and he would never be able to live it down.

After stowing the bread and meatrolls in the sack tied to his belt, Aidaen began tucking into the food left on his plate with little interest and no appetite, quite unusual for the lad. It was good, as everything at the Weyr had been since he came, but he couldn't even muster up enjoyment of it. He simply ate because he was certain he wouldn't be allowed to stay and full meals were too hard to come by to ignore.

Aidaen glanced up he heard the slosh of full skins hitting the table, catching Batavia's comments. His eyes widened as he focused on the full wineskins, amazed that she had been able to get them away from watchful eyes. Reflexively, he accepted the pouch that the girl passed him, only after he gripped it did her words make sense. "Thanks", he muttered, taking a big gulp and then passing it on.

"Where are ya gonna go when they kick ya out? Ah'm thinkin' I don't wanna go home so Ah'm gonna maybe go find a cave somewhere." Aidaen tossed out, trying to sound casual. He felt a strange sense of kinship with the older candidate...something he usually didn't feel with anyone, let alone one of his peers. But their shared rejection made him a bit less suspicious than he usually would be, trusting enough to share his secret plan. Unless that was the quickal going to his head already.

[Maykat]

Batavia moved around the table to sit with her back towards the wall. She had a pretty good view of the festivities without have to turn much. "Kick you out?" she asked, easing herself down onto the bench across from Aidaen. "I think out of all of us, you've got the most Turns to go before they kick you out." She pulled a plate of food towards her and picked a sweet off with her fingers. "You don't want to live in a cave anyway. You'd get lonely."

“One of the cobblers is looking for another helper. You should think about learning how to make shoes, it’ll be a useful skill,” was her random suggestion as she pointed the sweet at him before popping it into her mouth. It was nice knowing she had a back-up craft already in place. Most of the holdbred candidates had no training and had to find some craft or weyr worker to apprentice to after being left standing. The harpers began warming up on their stage and Batavia’s toes wiggled inside her sandals. She decided that after some more wine she just might be able to take a turn during a slow song.

[Thorney]

Unable to keep from laughing, the candidate let out a long sigh, green eyes practically dancing as they focused on L’mar. The harper was rather far from being anti-social in the slightest, but he knew that. The weyrling always teased her in such a manner, his words sharp and his mind quick. Clever and mischievous, the boy was a delightful companion for Raelwyn in every way, her own swift wit challenged and kept sharp in his presence. She could be herself around him completely, and they were utterly comfortable. “Well, I’d like to tell you that you have discovered my very private and well-kept secret, dear L’mar, but I’m afraid I cannot pull off ‘anti-social’ very well, even if I tried.” Winking, the harper grinned. “Very well, I have terrible timing, then.”

Biting her bottom lip to keep from chuckling when L’mar began to pout, Rael shook her head. “Oh, no, not that at all.” The girl reassured her visitor, grinning as she did. “I am merely stating that other doctors have agreed with your diagnosis, and so they are correct, and we can now have complete confidence that our resident healers are indeed skilled at their craft.” Nodding sagely, her hair tangling against the pillow as she did, Raelwyn smiled, even happier to have L’mar here than she would have thought. It still stung that she, yet again, did not Impress, but the crushing rejection was easier to push to the back of her mind when the weyrling was with her. She favored his company above anyone else’s in the whole of Cerulean, and if there was even one person on Pern she could have picked to have sitting with her now, feeling hurt and rejected and more or less worthless, it would have been him. Even her friends at Fort Weyr were not as perfect a match, and Rael had never felt as comfortable in the presence of anyone the way she did with L’mar.

Eyes dropping to her flit, who was happily curled against her and humming with contentment, the girl grinned. “You are probably right.” She agreed, brow quirking. Even though Tydus had no feelings of anger within him at that moment, the spark would likely be rekindled when his bliss at being reunited with His girl wore off. It was almost amusing at how well L’mar knew her bronze. Returning her concentration fully to the weyrling, Raelwyn smiled knowingly, her eyes dark. “It wasn’t her fault. Ty doesn’t understand that, but I do. This cannot be blamed on the poor little green; she looked terrified as she scurried away from me.”

Laughing in delight as L’mar scooped her up, Raelwyn looped her arms around his neck and grinned, winking at her valiant companion. “I suppose it does.” She agreed, unable to stop grinning. When the candidate had awakened in the infirmary, she had thought she would be spending the night alone, dwelling on the dragonet’s rejections and missing the Feast. Yet the weyrling had burst in, her knight in shining armor, to ease her pain, comfort her loss, and steal her away to the weyrhall. Still smiling, the girl sighed happily. “My hero!” She exclaimed, laughing again. Her bronze flit squawked in surprise at the sudden movement, and leapt upward, settling on L’mar’s shoulder. Growing a bit more subdued at the boy’s question, the harper’s brow furrowed. “Mmm.” She hummed, green eyes travelling over her figure. “I would rather not stay in my Impression robe. I hate to make you carry me so far, but I would like to change.” Blushing, Rael ducked her head, almost ashamed to ask the weyrling to carry her all the way to the candidate barracks. Really, though, she didn’t want to wear the rejection robe any longer than she had to. Uh, Impression. Impression robe.

[Kaemi]

Although he gave a heaving sigh at her words, L'mar knew very well that she was far from antisocial. "I suppose your current look will attract more of the boyos than a brooding look," he told her solemnly. "I have faith that you could pull it off, but the charming look that all the boys have already deemed 'Rael' suits you far more." The weyrling winked at her. Oh, sure, Raelwyn could do well with any looked assigned to her, but he couldn't imagine her in any other way than the smiling, playful, confident queen candidate he had met the other day in the Kitchens.

"Oh, good. I was worried that you didn't trust my, very professional, opinions." he told her, his grin still in place. L'mar was a bit too pleased that his best friend wasn't seriously harmed to be able to play his parts as well tonight. Oh, well, it wouldn't last for long. In all actuality, he'd been just as worried as Tydus about her injury. While he hadn't thought it was life-threatening (if there had been that risk, he doubted that the bronze would have stayed with him, despite all instructions the little king had been previously given), the weyrling worried that the green had done more damage than he could have seen from his angle. It was just baseless worries, but he was still in a state of relief that he could prove them baseless.

It was worrisome, when a friend like he had in Raelwyn was wounded in such a situation. Where he could see her, see it happen, see the culprit... and do nothing. Not assist her in any way, or reassure her, or convict the one who caused the harm because, of course, she was just as innocent. "She looked like someone was chasing her, or something. The poor girl," L'mar agreed, his voice developing a quiet tone. "I've seen too many mauling dragonets who are the sweetest little things after they've Impressed, but are little monsters breaking shell." Who could blame them? Trapped in a dark, warm place, and then bursting into a bright world with a bunch of staring people, accompanied by an instinctive knowledge that they had to find Theirs, or cease to exist. Scary thoughts, if he did say so himself. "So no clawing out of any eyes." He smiled.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and L'mar straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin in a comedic manner. "Then, Miss Damsel in Distress, to the Barracks we go! Aww, look, she's even blushing." If he had spoken in a louder tone, the tone he used might have drawn eyes. It was the type of tone that traders used at a stall, meant to attract attention. As it was, L'mar only wished to tease her a bit more. "No worries, milady. I am your large, strong, best friend and I shall eagerly bring you to your things so that you may change, and look fit to be cradled in my muscular arms." Tossing his non-existent locks, he winked at her.

[Thorney]

For some reason, it seemed L’mar just kept her blushing, because the candidate could feel heat creeping along her cheeks at his comment. His talk of the ‘charming look that all the boys had already deemed 'Rael' was enough to make her almost embarrassed. Raelwyn had never thought of herself that way, and she doubted there were all that many even looking. Shaking her head, laughing, the girl sighed, laying the back of her hand against her forehead. “I’m not all that great at ‘attracting’ the opposite sex, my dear weyrling, so I doubt it matters what look I’m wearing.” Grinning, the harper shrugged, not really caring if that was the case. In all actuality, Rael had never even been with a guy in her full sixteen turns, despite the candidate masters always encouraging their charges to experiment sexually before Impression.

Chuckling, the candidate turned her attention fully upon her best friend again, winking. “Of course I trust you. I’m sure your medical opinions are very sound.” Nodding sagely, Raelwyn grinned, again so very glad that he had come to visit her. At the hatching…well, the harper had her little scars from other dragonets, but the green had dealt her the worse blow she had ever experienced in her life. The cuts had felt she deep she briefly worried that she would no longer be fit to stand again, but thankfully the healers had already alleviated her fears on that account. Being unable to walk for one night and then dealing with bandages for a while was a small price to pay, especially compared to the other candidate, Zan. She didn’t envy him in the least.

Nodding, sobering as the weyrling spoke, Raelwyn couldn’t help but agree. “I know.” She said softly, lowering her eyes to stare at the floor. “I’m certain she will be a little darling. It was all a strange coincidence, really.” The candidate sighed, her mind already going back to the sands. The green had not sought her out to injure…unlike some she had seen, the hatchling had tumbled into her by accident. The harper hated to remember the panic the green exuded when she had looked up and saw Rael instead of her chosen. Pulled from her musings by L’mar’s voice, the girl laughed, glad to have something else to occupy her mind with. “No, nobody is clawing anyone else’s eyes.” She agreed, giving her bronze a pointed look as she did. Vaguely understanding the topic of conversation had switched to him, Tydus chirped once in confusion, looking between his girl and his favorite weyrling. What?

Shards and shells, the boy was not making it any easier for Raelwyn to get over that blush! Damsel in Distress? The girl laughed as he spoke grandly, his tone so full of gusto and bravado it would have made any gather-day hawker jealous. For a moment, the harper prepared a fitting retort, but as the weyrling continued and flipped his imaginary tresses, the candidate broke down into a fit of giggles, unable to even speak. Her bronze tilted his head and stared at her from the boy’s shoulder, unable to understand what had upset her so. Finally mastering herself, Rael shook her head, grinning. “Well, I would hate to look unfit, you know. You large, strong, muscular men have a certain reputation to maintain, after all.” Laughing again, the harper smiled, her face and voice turning serious. “Thank you, L’mar. I really appreciate you coming to see me. It really…it really helps.”

[Kaemi]

Blushing Rael amused him greatly. L'mar didn't necessarily mean to embarrass her, but when she made it so easy... and she was just so adorable when she blushed! The flushed look worked well for his best friend. Grinning at her, he shook his head. “You're not all that great? Now, I don't believe that. You must charm everyone you meet as you've charmed me. And not everyone's a green-weyrling who just isn't as easily attracted to pretty girls as they are pretty boys.” The grin dropped, but he winked at her playfully. “You're right, though, it doesn't matter what you're wearing. You're certainly pretty enough that clothes don't change your appeal.” She may blush again. That could be fun! It was the first time he had admitted to Raelwyn that he was less than heterosexual, but it wasn't hard to guess.

Medically sound. But of course! He was quite glad that his best friend trusted him... even in this joking sense. Moreso, he was glad that she wanted him here. Which seemed to be the case, from how she was acting. She acted- genuinely pleased to have him around, which was a strange feeling. The only person who L'mar knew was happy with his presence was Dalisth. Quite frankly, that didn't count, because they were mindmates, dragon and rider (well, weyrling. Technicalities.), and unconditional love was sort of required. However, to find that he was wanted to be around by another person, someone not required to like him in the least... it was nice. His best friend. They were out of the infirmary now, so L'mar smiled down at her. “You are alright, right? About not Impressing?” Blunt, but a necessary question, all jokes aside.

The poor little green had been terribly flustered. “I think, little king, that what your humanpet is trying to tell you is that she'd rather you not attack your larger cousin upon sight.” He was smiling cheerily down at the bronze, who seemed to be a little confused at the conversation. Tydus was one of the best little creatures, reminiscent of his own little noname. Speaking of... L'mar really needed to name the blue. If he didn't come up with the name soon, he'd ask Rael for help. Actually, when they went to the beach so that he could teach her juggling, he'd probably ask for her opinions on a name. Oh, who was he kidding? He wouldn't come up with a name, so he would certainly be asking Raelwyn about her opinion on a name for his flitter. But he'd save it for a later date, most certainly.

He turned, so that he was walking down the hallway. Not surprisingly, the girl was amazingly light. Did she eat? Probably not enough. The other day in the Kitchens she'd just picked at the rolls he'd thrown at her. Gazing speculatively down at her, L'mar asked, “Do you eat enough? You must be too light.” He bounced her in his arms a little- of course, to emphasize how light she was, definitely not to see if she'd make any amusing noises. That would be terrible to do to an injured girl! Of course, he did avoid bumping her leg in any way, not wanting to hurt his best friend. “That we do, my love,” he told her grandly. “If it was to seem that we, as these grandiose men, failed to maintain our reputations... why, it'd be a terrible day. Just as the Damsels have reputations: if you were to ever act, in any way, un-Damsel-esque- and yes, thank you, best friend, that's a word- it could throw Pern off of it's axis.” He grinned at her, and despite her topic-change, the smile grew even brighter. Still, his voice was serious. “It's no problem, I promise you. You are, after all, my best friend, who I had to make sure was okay. And then, there was the matter of Tydus, who was angry beyond belief and wouldn't have let me go anywhere else.” L'mar was completely truthful, despite the playful quality of his words.

[Thorney]

Even if the weyrling did not have the full intention causing her to blush constantly, he still managed to do so quite expertly, for that sharding warmth stretched across her cheeks and grew even hotter at his next words. Despite the fact she was a supposedly smooth harper, he magically had to ability to leave her tongue-tied at times. Times like now. Blinking, her green eyes widening, the candidate could only stare at her best friend for a few breaths before she managed to regain her composure. “I…do not see myself as charming many people, my dear weyrling. As for you, my good L’mar, I do not question my good fortune as to have managed to catch you for my best friend, I only express my gratefulness for it.” Winking, the girl settled against him, not even giving his sexual preferences a second thought. After all, Raelwyn had spent many, many turns in the weyrs, and such things were quite commonplace to her now. What did it matter?

Oh, good FARANTH, she was blushing again! Again! How the sharding shells did he manage to do that!? What was worse, her cheeks felt even warmer than before, and she was certain it was the deepest blush yet. By the egg! He made her do that a lot. Clothes did not change her appeal? Raelwyn tended to have a rather humble attitude about herself, and though she was not so foolish as to think she was ugly (because she wasn’t), neither did the candidate find anything all that uniquely appealing about herself either. Just another girl. Shaking her head, the harper smiled slightly, staring at the weyrling’s shirt as he carried her. “I think you are too kind, L’mar.”

Sobering at his query, the girl cleared her throat, her green eyes stubbornly trained on the fabric she lay against. “I’m…yes, I’m alright. As to be expected, I mean.” Taking a deep breath, her gaze finally rose to rest on his face, and Raelwym smiled. “Of course I’m disappointed, though. I’m disappointed after every hatching.” Frowning lightly, the harper knew there was more to how she felt, but for a moment she considered not saying it, for she did not wish to ruin the night. However, more words came from her lips before she could really think to stop it. “I keep wondering if there is something the matter with me, L’mar. Some reason why I am not Impressing. At the same time, though, I realize I am not the only person to ever go this long without Impressing. Maybe I will soon. Maybe I will not. But still, yes, I’m alright.” Smiling, the girl dropped her eyes, laying her head on him. “Besides, I have Tydus and I have you. That makes everything ok.”

A slow smile spread across the candidate’s lips then, and she chuckled at his question. Raelwyn was about to reply when he began bouncing her gently, and the girl let out a serious of undignified squeaks and giggles. “L’mar!” She protested, her voice full of good humor and amusement. Laughing, she shook her head, raising up to stare at him mock-sternly. “Never ask a female about her weight, my dear weyrling. That is strictly forbidden territory.” The harper thumped him on the chest once to accent her words, then slipped into a grin and winked to show she was merely joking. “Besides, I’m certain I’m heavy enough, it’s just that you are so very muscular and manly that I feel too light to you.” Eyes widening at his next grand tirade, Raelwyn just fell straight into a terrible fit of giggles, his speech too serious and far, far too snooty. “Oh, I would never think to contradict you on your language, my dear, hunky, damsel-rescuing man. Which reminds me…” Slumping in his grasp, the candidate pressed the back of her hand against her forehead, sighing dramatically. “Oh thank you for rescuing me from that terrible infirmary, you wonderful hero.” Winking, she asked, “ Have I expressed my gratitude fittingly yet?”

Dropping her act at he grew more serious, the harper straightened in his arms, smiling in return. Laughing, she nodded. “Oh, I imagine Tydus was a wreck, thank you for looking after him.” Her smile growing wider, Raelwyn was very serious when she added, “I’m so glad I met you, L’mar. You make me happier than I think you believe."

[Kaemi]

It was a mystery to L'mar, how his best friend seemed to believe herself less than what she was. He had touched on it the other day in the Kitchens, before and after he threw the rolls at her, but apparently it was a carrying problem. She was covering it well with humor, and those outstanding blushes, but the insecurity was there. Well, was it insecurity, or just humbleness? The weyrling cocked his eyebrow, not to anything that she said, but rather to his own thoughts. As she continued on talking, her blush growing hotter and her words growing serious, he decided that it was a little of both. Everyone had insecurity, of course, and Rael was a teenage girl- of course she had insecurity. Even he had some, but it was hidden deviously beneath wicked humor and a good arm whenever anyone started digging towards it. “Maybe you should build a shrine to me, or something of the like,” he said, purely joking. “Kowtow to it at every dawn and dusk, and serve offerings.” Nodding decisively, he almost got through the words, before his gaze fell on Tydus, and he burst out laughing instead.

“Who am I trying to kid?” he asked after collecting himself again. “Tydus would become mighty jealous if such a shrine was built, and no statues of himself were present. So unless we're willing to handcraft mini bronze f'lizard sculptures, shrines, kowtowing, and offerings are out of the questions.” The weyrling allowed himself a heavy sigh, before again breaking his facade and grinning at Raelwyn. “Me? Kind? Oh, dearest Raelwyn, you may be the only person on Pern who thinks that. Ask anyone, and you'll see that I am only telling the truth.” Now, there was one lie there- after all, it wasn't as if he was a mean person. Plenty of people thought that he was kind, but they would probably never admit it, as he was too much trouble. The other part, however, about her being a lovely girl and the state of her clothes not affecting the 'lovely' part in the least... that was truth.

The conversation took a serious turn, quite quickly, with his own question, and now she was steadfastly avoiding his eyes, and his face in general. It seemed that she was particularly fond of that spot on his shirt. L'mar probably would have nudged her chin up to look at him, but his arms were a bit full at the moment. So he kept walking, trusting in his instinctive knowledge of the Weyr (and, more strongly, his peripheral vision) to guide him as his eyes were focused intently on his best friend. He, of course, knew how hard it was to not Impress again and again and again. The quiet voice in the back of your mind that grew louder with every Hatching, saying that you weren't good enough, that there was a problem with you, and that you would never accomplish your dream because you were inferior. Never ever ever would he want Rael to have that voice, but it seemed that she did.

“Sweetheart...” he said gently, still trying to draw her eyes as his own bore a nice little pair of holes in the top of her skull. “I have all the faith in the world that you will find your other half. She... or he-” his voice wavered for a moment there, and a small smile worked onto his face, as he remembered their short conversation about if she Impressed bronze. Quickly enough, he regained his composure, knowing that he was here in the capacity of best friend and needed to be there for Raelwyn. “She or he is out there, whether in the form of your unhatched dragonet mindmate, or your large, muscular, brooding chunk of man.” His eyebrows drew together. “You do realize that if you do find it in the latter, I expect you to share? Because we're best friends, and all.” Then he shook his head, and sighed. “Sorry, side-tracked. But, in all truth, Rael... I believe you'll Impress. And you're right, until you do, and during, and after- you'll have me, and you'll have your little king, here. I promise.” As if there was any doubt!

And as if he didn't know about the 'forbidden territory' of weight. However, when he had a question, especially when it was to his best friend, he would ask it. A mock-huffy look (if there was such a thing, at least, it would be pasted over L'mar's face) drew together his face. “Nope, I don't believe you. Tydus,” the weyrling turned his head towards the bronze flitter. “I am entrusting you with our girl's eating habits. I'm sure you'll have no problem in making sure that she eats at least three hearty meals a day.” As soon as he was satisfied that the bronze understood his task, L'mar turned his attention back to Rael and, bouncing her one last time, winked. “That should settle it.” Soon after, her fit of giggles drew his eyebrows up, followed by her perfect damsel-in-distress interpretation. As soon as her hand went to her forehead, a wicked look grew in his eyes. “See? You're light-headed and on the verge of fainting, the full embodiment of the symptoms one develops when they don't eat enough.” He made a brief tsk-ing noise, before grinning at her. “It was, however, my pleasure, milady. I am, after all, quite the hunky hero. And, just the combination of those words to describe myself, makes me think that any more of your gratitude could make me revisit my dinner in a very unpleasant way, so yes. Please stop.” His grin was one of pure happiness, despite his words of becoming sick. How he loved his best friend!

L'mar cuddled her in his arms, hugging her close to him for a moment or two. “Tydus was looking like I was feeling, so it was no problem. I'm pretty sure we had a manly bonding session, in fact.” He gave a small grin. “I think I believe, at least a little, because you, my dear, have made me happier than I've been in a long while. Dalisth is the center of my life, but you are certainly second on the list.” And, although Dalisth was first by an impossibly long stretch, Raelwyn was second above everyone else he knew by one that was almost as long.

((This is a monster. xD Whenever these two hook up, they tend to not shut up. Especially at midnight when I'm tired.))