Nine's Noodlings

[nineofswords]

FAILURE IN LOVE - G'las and Quenith

G'las had had to cut short a flight tryst as her green came rocketing back into the weyr screaming his name. G'las had sighed, excused herself, and trudged up to his weyr, not bothering to try talking sense into her excitable green until he could look the silly creature in the eye.

She marched into his weyr to see the green keening on her ledge, making a nuisance of herself to all their neighbors. Without missing a beat, G'las grabbed a stone off her dressing table and sat out on Quenith's ledge. "Give me your head, love," he said, sounding a bit resigned.

With several pitiful sounds, Quenith lowered as much of her head as she could fit onto G'las's lap. G'las began to slowly rub the rock in circles on Quenith's head. It was Quenith's favorite rock, one that scratched the itches on her hide without being too rough, and it warmed up quickly between G'las's body heat and Quenith's. And G'las found that using the rock to rub soothing circles on Quenith was less stressful on her hands than massaging the green's hide with his fists alone.

I'm never chasing again, Quenith moaned. It was horrible. No one looked at me once the entire time, and Ustreilith didn't even pick me. Me! I was by far the most beautiful dragon in the air with her, and she wouldn't even look at me!

"That's the problem with golds," G'las said consolingly. "They're vain. She probably didn't want a mate more beautiful and graceful in the air than she was."

But it's not fair! Quenith wailed, completely ignoring G'las's consoling words. She didn't want to be consoled. She wanted to wallow in misery. I've never chased before! She should've known and been honored that I deigned to join after her!

"She really should've," G'las agreed. "No taste. The young have no taste whatsoever." This was why G'las was such a good human, probably the best human. She understood Quenith just needed to be sad and deserved some pampering and was more than happy to oblige. At least someone in this weyr understood how to treat a green as magnificent as Quenith!

G'las was just managing not to laugh in his poor, rejected green's face. She'd been shot down by potential hookups more times than he cared to count, and she knew how much it hurt. Especially when someone wasn't used to it. And his green had never chased before, so of course she'd never had to experience rejection before. It was hard to cope with, but G'las couldn't help remembering how just a little earlier that same day, Quenith had taken to the skies after Ustreilith claiming that G'las didn't appreciate her enough. She loved his silly, mercurial little green. She'd probably give her a good bath later, too, because Quenith would almost certainly forget her woes once she was able to preen at her own reflection.

For the moment, though, G'las was content to just sit and listen as this silly creature cried and felt sorry for herself. And he definitely was not laughing as she did so. No matter how funny she found this particular tantrum.

[nineofswords]

BRONSON & APOLLINE - A Bright Destiny

His mother had gotten him a flit egg. Before he'd left for the Weyr, she'd pressed it into his hands, safely bundled in a little bucket of warm sand. They were expensive things, more expensive than sensible for her to get. But she'd bought one for him, and she'd bought the largest one of its clutch, too. It had almost been enough to move him to tears, except that boys didn't cry. They did hug their mothers goodbye, though.

It would take a few days before the egg would finally hatch, and by then he was as settled into the candidate barracks as he could be. He noticed the egg starting to wobble and had quickly run and gotten some scraps from the kitchens. When he got back, the egg still didn't look quite ready to hatch, so he made a blanket fort so he'd have some semblance of privacy if his roommate walked in.

And the flit still hadn't broken through its shell yet. He huffed. "You sure are keeping me waiting," he grumbled at it. "You better be worth it to make me wait so long." He scowled as he considered that. Girls were always late, weren't they? He really hoped it wasn't a girl in that egg. No, it couldn't be. Greens didn't come out of eggs that big. They didn't need that much space. And Garnets...he hoped it wasn't a Garnet. They were weird. But they were smaller than browns, so surely this thing couldn't be one, right? Again, it was a big egg!

He found himself getting more nervous the more the egg moved. This thing was hatching right as he was beginning his journey towards becoming a dragonrider. This would set the tone for his entire candidacy. If it did somehow have a green in there - or worse, a garnet - his candidacy would be cursed before it even started.

The snout that finally cracked through its shell had a metallic sheen to it, though, and Bronson let out a sigh of relief. A bronze. He knew it. No flit egg that big, no flit egg of his, could have anything less than a bronze in it.

As the firelizard slowly crawled its way out of its shell, though, he quickly realized his mistake. It wasn't bronze, the sheen was far too yellow, undeniably so. Slowly, a smile spread across Bronson's face. "No wonder you took so long," he said. "I s'pose if you're a gold, I can overlook the fact that you're a girl. And that you made me wait so long." He quickly started shoveling food into her expectant maw. "Yeah yeah yeah. I got you all the meat you can handle. Don't you worry."

Despite his words, he was starting to worry that he'd run out of meat for the little thing. She was eating so much. Was that normal? But abruptly, she crawled into his lap and passed out, a small scrap of meat still hanging from her mouth. "Well that's not very ladylike," he pointed out to the sleeping flit. She just started to snore quietly. It was...honestly it was cute, but he'd deny he'd ever thought that with his dying breath. He had some water handy, so he dampened the tail of his shirt and wiped off some of the meat juices from the golden creature's mouth, gently pulling the meat scrap away from her teeth. He was able to lift her head even, and she didn't even stir.

He shook his head. "Well, hopefully you learn some manners as you get older," he said. "But you were just born, so I suppose I can let it slide just this once." She just slept on, her stomach moving slowly up and down as she breathed. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her. She was absolutely perfect. And she was his. Yes, his candidacy was going to be extraordinary.

[nineofswords]

NOW AND FUTURE BABIES - Dani & Bladeth

Finally - finally! - a caravan had come to High Reaches that had flit eggs. They were all so precious, Dani couldn't decide, so Bladeth picked one out for her. He charmed the traders while Dani paid for the egg and carefully carried it back to the weyr. Once she had it settled, Bladeth watched it day and night, brooding over it like a gold might. He claimed it was because he didn't want it to hatch and disappear on them, wasting Dani's hard-earned marks, but really he was excited for a flit as Dani was.

It was early in the morning and Dani was groggily getting klah from the dining hall when she heard her bronze call out to her: Dani! It's happening! The hatching! Bring meat scraps!

For a second, Dani's brain wouldn't process that properly. What hatching? The sands were empty. And why did Bladeth thing she should be responsible for bringing the meat? But then her brain caught up, and her eyes went wide. She scrambled into the kitchen and asked breathlessly for meat scraps. It took a few tries for the kitchen staff to understand what she was asking for - she really was all but useless before her klah - but eventually they understood.

Bladeth kept yelling at her to hurry, and Dani went as quickly as she could hauling a bucket of scrap meat. 'Hold on, I'm coming,' she grumbled silently back. 'I am going as fast as I can,'

Well be faster! This egg won't wait forever!

'It also won't hatch in seconds. We have time,' she reminded the big silly bronze, but she did pick up the pace a little more. She was red-faced and puffing by the time she got the heavy bucket all the way back up to the weyr. "Remind me why we picked a weyr so high up in the wall?" she complained, setting the meat bucket down.

Hurry up and get over here! Bladeth urged, ignoring her need to breathe. Dani sighed and hauled the bucket the last few feet to where the egg was tucked away.

Despite all of Bladeth's fussing, the egg still took quite a while to hatch. It was a luxurious thing, taking its time, and when it did finally crack, the tail was the first thing to burst through. Dani giggled. "You're coming out backwards, you silly thing," she said, but didn't move to help. The flit would figure itself out without her help, and odds were good she'd just get bit for her troubles.

The little flit was methodical about breaking out, moving its tail to widen the hole and then opening it further with its feet. Dani was reserving judgement on its color until the little thing finally finished emerging, and when it did, backing carefully out of its shell, Dani squeeled. "Bladeth! Bladeth she's a gold! We're going to get to see so many babies!"



Hurry up and feed her before she disappears! Bladeth stressed at her, and Dani started offering meat to the flit. She was as delicate with eating as she had been coming out of her shell, although she ate a little more quickly than she'd emerged. "What a precious little thing," Dani cooed. "What should we call her?"

Bladeth gave that serious consideration. Ceecee, he finally decided.

"Ceecee," Dani agreed. "It's perfect. Just like her."

Dani finished stuffing the little gold full of food, and then Ceecee happily crawled onto Bladeth's front paw, which was in a particularly bright patch of sunlight. She passed out and started snoring. Dani curled up against Bladeth, and they both stared lovingly at the tiny creature before inadvertently falling asleep themselves. It was absurdly early, after all.

[nineofswords]

A Musing On Gender - A letter from G'las to Daphne

A few days after Daphne had been settled into her new living quarters, a letter arrived for her. The paper was simple but of good quality, the handwriting neat but not overly elaborate which some might find surprising, and the barest hint of perfume could be smelled on it.

[i]My dear, dear Daphne,

How are you, my darling? I wanted to extend my congratulations to you on becoming a dragonrider (as well as your exquisite curtseying and accessory choices) and to express my sympathies that it didn't go as you'd hoped. I'm sure you must be mortified about what happened, but you are hardly the first candidate to have such a response. The stories I could tell you, but I won't as you are not the sort of girl to delight in other's embarrassment. It is commonplace enough that you will hardly be a topic of conversation (for very long, at any rate) and by the time you have graduated it shall be all but forgotten. Please do not dwell on it. I assure you no one else will, and any who do are a boor and ought to be directed to me for appropriate reprimanding.

The true purpose of my writing you, however, was that I believe your distress during your impression came from the fact that your bonded is a bit on the masculine side. I have some rather extensive experience balancing the masculine and the feminine, and I hope I can provide you some insight in that matter, should you want it. If I'm overstepping, I deeply apologize, and you may finish reading here with all of my love and support and know that you are strong enough to come through this difficult time for you.

I know you wanted a dragon who was as ladylike and graceful as you, and while I understand that sentiment, I have a dragon that is quite similar to me. Too similar, at times, as it turns out. My Quenith is a wonderful partner, to be sure, but we both insist on looking our best at all times, and there are simply not enough hours in the day for us both to get our wish. As I am a dragonrider, I must prioritize Quenith's vanity over my own, as a dragon whose oilings have been neglected can cause far more problems and danger than my lack of makeup. I adore Quenith and wouldn't give her up for the world, but there are days where I wish I could go back to being selfish, to go back to the days when I didn't have to vie with her to be the center of attention. Quenith is perfection itself, but it turns out that perfection is exhausting in its own right.

I wish to tell you a bit more about my gender, as it is something of a balancing act, and I hope it'll offer you some insight into the balancing act you currently find yourself in. Most would suspect that I feel at my most masculine when I wear my riding leathers, and that when I am all dolled up it is because I am feeling feminine. This is not the case. I feel at my most masculine when my makeup is perfection, my hair is coiffed, I am in my finest gowns and highest heals, and am wearing as many jewels as I can without being tacky. I feel at my most feminine when I wear nothing at all, which I hope you don't find too shocking to hear. The reason for this, I suspect, is the the contrast. Dressing in a feminine manner helps me see more clearly the parts of myself that are more masculine. And when I see my more masculine form, it helps me to find the parts of my personality which are more feminine. Contrast, my dear, can help highlight the parts of ourselves we love the most. Your new bonded, gruff and masculine as he is, serves as an excellent contrast for your kind, and feminine personality. He highlights how very elegant you are. I do not think there is a dragon in all of Pern to match your femininity, so it was not overly surprising to me that no dragon tried.

I know that is little comfort for the moment. You are hardly the first weyrling to find the adjustment difficult, but it will get easier with time. These things often do. And there are plenty of riders who know what it is like who would be happy to help you. If you like, I can make some inquiries and introduce you to some who would be able to understand your situation and help you in adjusting.

Love from your friend,

G'las

[nineofswords]

An Incomplete List Of The Thousand And One Ways I'll Never Say I Love You - Tsukasath about Yermie

• I called you Y'olai because Yermolai was a name you only ever heard when you were in trouble and you deserve a name you can hear without wincing
• I don't let other people bathe and oil me. I tell you it's because they're too rough or miss spots, but really it's because I don't want any hands but yours to touch me
• I never call you Yermie when I'm manipulating you. Only Y'olai. Yermie is who you are are your core, and I will not tarnish that with a half-truth
• I am always patient when you ask for explanations or clarifications. Even though you can read my mind, you often move so fast it's hardly a surprise you'll miss things sometimes
• Your happiness will always come before any machination. Even if it means being nice to people who are foolish
• You always move so fast, so I'll remind you to eat, to bathe, to talk to the people who love you, to make new friends. You deserve to have a life full of more than just running.

[nineofswords]

Just Be Patient, Sunshine - Eraelth and F'lin

Eraelth wasn't usually the picture of diplomacy, but she didn't usually snap quite so much at F'lin and Dusty's antics as she'd been doing lately. F'lin wasn't really the type to ask her what the problem was directly, though, so he mostly just ignored it. Eraelth would tell him if she had a problem with him specifically, after all. But when he came out of the storage huts one evening with extra oil to scrub down with and saw her pacing back and forth, her eyes aimed at the sky, her tail lashing and eyes swirling in irritation, he felt he could ask without risk of it starting an argument.

"What's going on up there that's got you so worked up?" he asked, heading towards the lake, knowing she'd follow.

Flights, Eraelth responded simply.

"Oh yeah, there have been a lot of greens and garnets rising lately," F'lin agreed. He didn't think it was any more than it usually was, but he didn't really pay attention to that kind of thing normally. As a weyrling, it was easier to just ignore that kind of thing until he'd graduated. "Why's it bothering you so much now?" he asked. "Don't tell me you're secretly a white or something," he added with a teasing tone.

It doesn't bother me, she snapped at him. I want to join in the chase, but I can't keep up yet, so there's no point.

"Oh? Oh," F'lin said, laughing at his own cluelessness as realization dawned. "Yeah, that's frustrating. But just a little longer now, and you can chase all the ladies your heart desires," he assured her. Because he was curious and because he wanted to take her mind off her own frustrated desires, he asked, "When you rise, do you want boy chasers, or only other girls?"

Eraelth's nose crinkled up a little in distaste. No offense to boys, she said, but there's no way I'm ever letting one of them catch me.

F'lin let out a loud bark of laughter at that. "Honestly,can't really say I blame you. Dragon boys seem like a lot sometimes." It was kind of fascinating that Eraelth knew that she already liked girl dragons pretty exclusively, especially since she was still too young to manage a whole flight yet. "Sorry if this is a stupid question, but if you like girls so much, why'd you pick me to be your partner? I mean, there were plenty of girl candidates on the stands. Shards, Bopeep was standing right next to me, after all."

Eraelth snorted. You're right, she said. That is a stupid question. Her tone was less snippy than it had been lately, the affectionate gruffness back in her voice, a clear willingness to tease and be teased.

F'lin beamed at her. "There's the little Rae of Sunshine who's been msising these past few weeks," he teased.

WHAT did you just call me? Eraelth demanded, horrified.

"What, Sunshine?" F'lin asked, grinning mischeviously. "C'mon, Rae, I think it suits you! I mean, before you my life was nothing but darkness! I was miserable, lost, alone, unloved - "

That's it. I'm finding Bopeep and seeing if she'll agree to be my new rider, Eraelth said, turning away from F'lin.

"Nooo, Raaae," F'lin whined, dropping the oil he'd gotten and his walking stick to grab onto one of her legs as if he could keep her from walking away. "I love you, don't leave meeee!"

She let out a huff, but turned to nuzzle F'lin so hard that he fell over. He laughed as he did. You are an absolutely ridiculous human, she complained. But I love you too. Now let's get to the lake so you can give me a bath. I itch.

"Whatever you say, Sunshine," F'lin said, getting back up and retrieving the things he'd dropped and happily trotting back towards the lake.

Your nicknames are the worst, she complained, but followed after him, her eyes now swirling with the greens and blues of a happy dragon.

[nineofswords]

Land, Sea, Sky - Tychon, Ezanath, and Tychon's father

Tychon was no stranger to hard work and long days, but ever since impressing it felt like a different kind of hard work and long days. He'd never felt quite so satisfied in hard work. Oh, he'd felt satisfied in his work of parting people from their possessions but that wasn't exactly hard, and he liked how labor shaped his body but it wasn't satisfying. Ezanath, though. Hard work meant for her? That was more satisfying than any con.

He was on his way to a lesson - and wasn't it so much less of a chore with Ezanath keeping him on track? - only running slightly behind because he'd decided to sleep in when he heard someone call his name: "Tyche?"

He turned, surprised at who it was, though he recognized his father's pet name for him instantly. "Dad," he said, blinking. "What are you doing here?"

His father raised an eyebrow. "You lose all your sailor's sense already, boy?" he asked. "We're always in Semaca around this time."

"Right," Tychon said, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment. He hid it with a scowl, crossing his arms. "Right. Guess I just lost track of time. Lot goin' on, and all."

"So I heard." His father's face softened slightly, and he looked a little embarrassed himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's...well. It's why I came all the way up here. Missed the hatching, but didn't feel right not to come see my boy and meet the dragon he gave up a life on the seas for." Ezanath had been waiting patiently at Tychon's side, and his father gestured. "This'll be your bird, then?"

"Aye, sir," Tychon said, reaching down to scratch under her horns. There were twigs and leaves stuck in them, from Cissy's attempts to build a nest in them. "My girl's name is Eza...Ezanath."

It is good to meet you, sire of my bond, Eza said, dipping her head.

"And you, bonder of my son," Tychon's father said, his mouth twitching a bit in a begrudging smile. "She's a pretty lass," he added to Tychon. "And impossible to miss. A perfect match for you, provided she's..." He gave Tychon a knowing look. "Approving of your lifestyle."

There is nothing Tychon does that I wouldn't approve of, Ezanath said. I can see everything in his mind. He follows his instincts and is very in tune with the natural world, more so than most. It is good and right.

"That's her way of saying she doesn't much mind the stealing," Tychon said with a smirk.

Material possessions are fleeting, and hoarding them does nothing to contribute to the rest of the natural world, Ezanath agreed. And these 'scams' as Tychon has described them, seem quite fun. I simply have to talk to people and they will be separated from their possessions. Simple. Natural. Elegant.

"Well that's something at least," his father said, looking vaguely amused. "Good to see you're not letting all of your skills rust away."

Tychon's expression instantly became thunderous. "Well we both know what you thought of my skills as a sailor," he growled. "So what does it matter if I let them rust away or not?"

"That wasn't..." Tychon's father pinched the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths. "I never said you wouldn't be a good sailor," he said quietly, calmly. "But as my son, as the person I expected to hand off the Magpie's Eye to one day, there was a standard I needed to hold you to that I didn't others. But I'm sorry I made you feel like you weren't good enough."

"So you have said a hundred times, but it doesn't matter anymore anyway," Tychon growled.

Tyche, Eza said, her voice soft and for him alone, using the name his father had called him, sensing the affection he felt when he'd been called that and using it as balm on his anger. When your fathers' bones have crumbled to dust in the ground, will this argument matter? Will you be pleased at having pushed him away? I know you love him, Tyche, and now that you have me this argument serves no purpose. You have won. Can that be enough?

Tychon clenched his fists tightly, feeling the fire of anger deep inside him. Eza let it burn, not trying to put it out, but very slowly, she helped starve it of fuel until it was just embers, something that would only hurt a little if touched and nothing more. Slowly, he relaxed his fists. "It doesn't matter anymore," Tychon repeated, the ire gone from his voice now. "I...know you didn't mean to hurt me," he said. It was the closest he could get to apologizing, or to accepting his father's apology, and the relief in his father's eyes told Tychon he knew that. The wounds would need more time to heal, but...Eza was right. A sailor's life was dangerous, and Tychon would have precious little time with his father now that he was a rider. It was better to take advantage of every moment with the old man instead of nursing this grudge. But only because he was Tychon's father.

His father pulled him into a hug, and Tychon hugged him back just as fiercely.

"Eza, we're ditching lessons today," he said.

Do you want me to lie to the weyrlingmaster and tell him you have a stomach bug? the green offered helpfully, which made Tychon's father laugh.

Tychon scratched his girl's head affectionately. "Go ahead and tell them my father's come for a visit," he said. "If I get latrine duty, I get latrine duty, but better that than getting a double shift of it for lying about why I'm ditching."

"And what mischief do you have planned for me, boy?" Tychon's father asked, eyes dancing.

"Well, first I was thinking we should find Cissy," Tychon said. "She hates lessons, so she'll have flown off somewhere to amuse herself. Can't have fun without her, after all."

"Yeah, gotta make sure you're not neglecting her too badly just 'cause you've got a newer, greener bird to amuse you," Tychon's father said, giving him a nudge. His tone was gruff, but Tychon knew it as teasing.

Perhaps we can lay in a field of flowers and watch the clouds, Eza suggested happily.

"Aye, or p'haps we can run a scam like one of the ones Tychon's told you about," the pirate captain said.

"I thought you always told me not to shit where I ate," Tychon complained.

"Ain't my fault you decided to become sedentary, boy," his father rumbled back with a grin. " 'Sides, you're a rider now. What's the worst they're gonna do? Assign you some chores? Stick you in that squad for the rejects? We gotta show your newest girl the thrill of theft."

"Oh fine," Tychon said with a put-upon sigh, but his grin matched his father's. "If you're gonna twist my arm like that, s'pose I can't refuse. But I pick the mark."

"Naturally. You know this place better'n me, after all." The trio ambled towards Tychon's quarters, in search for a single small green bird in a sea of green on a perfect Semacan summer day, the father with his arm over his son's shoulders and the horned green leading the way. It really was a perfect day to get into just a little bit of trouble.

[nineofswords]

She's Gone. Better Learn How To Face It - Bre'q

For the first time since coming to Semaca, Bre'q dreamed of Dliqueth.

She'd often dreamed of Dliqueth. At first, in those first days and months after...after it happened, she'd mostly dreamed of their last moments together. Of the fear and the pain as they went down, and then of waking up without Dliqueth there in her head. Sometimes she'd dream of searching for something and only upon waking up realized she was looking for her missing bond. But Bre'q had been working with mindhealers for a while, and between that and time, Bre'q had started having better dreams about the white dragon. Dreams about how Dliqueth always insisted on putting everything in her mouth to 'figure it out' despite her eyes working just fine. Dreams about her inexplicable obsession with trying to swallow anything fish-shaped. Dreams about how she simply could not seem to understand exceptions, no matter how many times Bre'q had patiently explained them to her. Dreams of them lounging in the sun together, the dragon's musk thick in Bre'q's nose, of Bre'q scrubbing at Dliqueth's hide until it all but glowed.

Honestly, those dreams were almost worse than the nightmares. Because at least with the nightmares, she wouldn't wake up expecting Dliqueth to still be there in her mind. There was always a half second after waking from a good Dliqueth dream where Bre'q would reach out for the white and the hurt would hit her all over again, as sharp and raw as it had been when she'd woken in the infirmary that first time, when the tears had streaked down her face so long she'd thought they'd never stop until she was completely dry. It hurt so much, but the dreams were the only thing left of her, and Bre'q couldn't bear to think about what would happen when the dreams finally faded too.

This dream had been especially painful, though, because it had been about early on in their weyrling years. Dliqueth had still been young enough that Bre'q could manhandle her when needed. The strange child had gone and stolen an entire fish from the lower caverns, one nearly as big as Dliqueth herself had been, and was absconding with it, Bre'q and several lower caverns staff hot on her heels. In reality, they'd managed to catch Dliqueth. It had taken two people pinning her down and Bre'q physically prying her jaws open before they got the fish away from her, and the white had wailed about how unfair it all was, how she'd just wanted to swallow the fish. No assurances that it wouldn't have fit down her throat and would likely have hurt her very badly to try would dissuade Dliqueth from her belief it would've worked, nor could Bre'q figure out why it was so important that she do this. In the dream, though, Bre'q couldn't ever seem to catch up, always lagging farther and farther behind Dliqueth no matter how fast she ran, how hard she tried to catch up.

Bre'q woke from her dream quite suddenly, a shout dying in her throat before it ever quite got out. It would've been Dliqueth's name, and there was no point in calling out to her. She wasn't there. She would never answer again.

Bre'q knew she wasn't getting back to sleep after that, but the hour was an odd one, one where there likely wouldn't be much to do in the out-of-the-way places she preferred to work. She was too...emotional...after that dream, too on edge, to want to be around people, so she started trying to commit to memory some of the songs she'd written down that the sailors sang on the ship over. It would help her focus on something else until she was calm enough to go in the kitchens to scrub something or go to one of the many building projects in progress and hammer something. She didn't have to pretend to be anything when she was doing hard labor. She just wished people didn't insist on small talk before they'd hand her the brush or the tool and let her get on with things.

[nineofswords]

First Pet - Heiro

Heiro had never been allowed to have pets. Her parents had worried that any future suitors might not like whatever creature she'd called hers, and had discouraged any attempts to adopt or rescue wayward creatures. So it was probably understandable that it took her a bit longer than other candidates to realize that she didn't need to adhere to her parents rules anymore. It was with a fair amount of excitement (and just a bit of nervousness) that she bought a firelizard egg. In addition to being a fairly intelligent companion, it'd be good practice for having a dragon, and would give her a sense if it was a direction for her life that she was actually interested in.

She wasn't too worried about the egg hatching without her; she'd read about the process as well as asked others with flits how it had worked, so she knew the actual hatching would take a while. She kept an eye on it anytime she was in her quarters or had free time, so she noticed when spiderweb cracks appeared on its shell. She quickly retrieved meat scraps from kitchens and settled herself beside the bucket of sand to wait for the creature to emerge. A pale snout poked through, and by the way the light hit it, at first it was hard to tell if it was a white or some other color just in a pale hue. But when a wing emerged next, it became abundantly clear what color the little lady was.


A lovely little garnet! Heiro let out a little coo of delight. She had to resist the urge to help her out of her shell, or to immediately try to shove food down the little flit's throat. Slowly, painstakingly, the garnet worked herself free of the shell, shaking egg goop off herself, looking annoyed. She looked at Heiro with a huff, seeming almost expectant, and Heiro offered her a bit of food. The garnet considered the meat, and finally decided it was an acceptable offering. And so Heiro found herself bonded to a lovely pale purple garnet. One who wouldn't settle until Heiro had fully washed every last trace of the goop off of her, but then curled up in Heiro's arms.

Heiro smiled fondly at her. "You remind me a little of my sister," she said. "Effortlessly beautiful and very particular about your neatness. But I don't mind it quite so much coming from you. I think I'll call you Thetis, after her." Heiro smiled to herself. "Themis would hate it if she found out I named a pet after her, but you understand it's meant as a sign of affection, right?" Thetis sleepily buried her head into the crook of Heiro's elbow where she was being cradled. "You're much nicer than her anyway," Heiro confided quietly. "You've never snapped at me. It's fine to be haughty and proud, but you know you don't have to be nasty about it." Thetis let out a little grumbling noise. Heiro chuckled. "Alright, I'll stop talking and let you sleep, little one."

She settled the garnet gently into her lap so she could free her hands up to embroider. Once this project was done, perhaps she should add some purple dragon-shaped embroidery to something. Maybe a handkerchief. Or she could do a little blanket to give to Thetis once she was fully grown. Heiro would ponder it while she worked. She always thought better when she embroidered, anyway.