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The months had, metaphorically and now quite literally flown by. The summer had seemed so very long ago, and yet felt only yesterday she had leaned upon a friend and met her beloved. The green was full of spunk and fire as Niviora, and watching her grow and never waver on that brilliant personality had made her rise to meet her. The brilliant green had grown from a small hatchling she could carry, to a becoming senior whirling suddenly able to fly. Throughout the rainy season, though Sauzath may have her opinions on the drear and mud, they had taken each milestone in stride.

With between lessons on the horizon, and most of their free time having been assigned to chores and fishing for more resources, to have an actual rest day to themselves wasn’t to be wasted -- and thank Faranth that the sky seemed to mostly agree with the sentiment.

I do wish you’d have prepared to swim with me. The water feels rather fantastic. Sauzath’s tease was light, as the water played around her ankles. The green flicked water at her rider, laughing as Niviora only backed up a step.

“When the day comes that I suddenly have hide as thick as you, certainly.” She loosened the shawl wrapped around her, watching as Sauzath busied herself with fishing a few shells out of the surf. Beautiful little baubles that deserved to be in their weyr is the general feeling passed quietly through their bond, and can only make Niviora smile -- a deeper-rooted happiness that she hadn’t felt in so, so long; at least before Sauzath had come into her life. It’d been hard to believe when her nameday had come and gone; the difference a turn could bring.

Across from her, Sauzath tensed and looked up -- her eyes draining from their happier tones to more inquisitive ones. It’s the call of her name that has Niviora turning curiously -- and her heart stopped.

… No.
It couldn’t be, could it?

His name dies in her throat quickly, and it’s pure reflex to keep her expression passive. The strike of emotions hits her all at once -- fear, anger; was this the other shoe she had waited so many turns to finally drop? Over a decade of waiting for this man to finally come back. Western Weyr had been her restart at life, and that fate would find her after so long was almost cruel --

Sauzath’s frame was suddenly around her, hovering almost protectively -- and curious. Her eyes were a myriad, and for the briefest moment, could have almost mimicked a rainbow. Reds, oranges… before settling in some confused yellow tones.

’He does not look of the same stature as the man of your memory, Niviora.' The resemblance was uncanny; the same hair color, the same eyes. Yet he was.. Smaller. Younger. Kinder. Almost as if he had stepped almost exactly of her memories (give or take a couple turns). This child knew her, and yet; how?

Her inner turmoil, metered out by the bond between her and Sauzath, seemed to have summoned her firelizard -- for there’s a snap as Royalty appeared from the breadth of between -- and the queen hovered. She had been with her some time, the striking beauty Niviora had latched onto when all around had fallen away, and yet -- the firelizard only crooned gently, swooping in to take a closer look at the boy. Her small eyes bright beacons of purple, fussing over him with the softness of a mother.

And it hits her; it hit her like a rampaging wherry -- so many turns had passed, and he had grown to much, but it’s a name she’s kept tucked in her mind. Private thoughts as she wondered how he was, how he had grown. She had made her decision to let him go; a fresh start with a family that would raise him as one of their own -- or so she had hoped. Yet it seemed that the world worked in mysterious ways.

Niviora took a step away from her dragon as Sauzath relaxed -- confused, curious, but looking much more relaxed -- as she glanced him over. “.. Sioryl?” Soft, wondering, but still close to her chest. She could play it off easily over mistaken identity, but..
Maybe…

The gold firelizard only pawed playfully back at his handflaps, ever careful of keeping claws where they couldn’t hurt. A game, maybe one from so long ago, but the shimmering little girl seemed to delight in his laughter. Words were mostly lost on her, but she nestled against his cheek with an affectionate bump of her head. Yet when playtime came to an end, she gently winged away to settle in the sand.

Niviora could only watch, processing quietly. Royalty knew him, and if the kid’s unfortunate luck of looking so very much like his father didn’t clue her in, it most certainly would’ve been that. But he’d sought her out, when she was just a weyrling of the most recent clutch. No reason a candidate should seek her out -- daresay she didn’t make many friends in the many turns she spent in candidacy. Half of her life, really -- and the living proof was before her.

There was such budding hope in his eyes, smile, voice, that it had her choking up a tiny bit. “You’ve gotten so big..” There’s a touch of awe in her voice. He was but a squirmy little thing, last time she saw him. A bundle of blanket pressed into his new foster’s arms with a dragonrider awaiting her.

The dragon at her side was watching the procession with curiosity; where there was the blind panic in seeing someone who looked so familiar, it simmered down into something murky. Affection, wonder, uncertainty. The anger drained from the weyrling’s eyes, now merely curious. Hedging the faint pink-purples of her rider’s own emotions. She padded around Sioryl, taking him in.

“Oh, don’t scare him, Sauzath.” Any other time, she would have winced at the mild crack in her voice, the bubble of laughter that followed after. Her dragon was pacing around like some predator, even if she knew better -- Sioryl didn’t know how.. interesting her dragon could be sometimes. Not yet, is a quiet.. almost happy thought.

Nonsense. I’m only taking a look at what is properly the second best human in Western. She gives a playful snort, broadcasting so that Sioryl would hear her, as well.

Niviora can only chuckle, a bit defeated to the whims of her green, but smiles back at Sioryl. Impression had helped to pry so many holds on her simply enjoying things, and though her original shock had worn off, she’s almost nervous to take a step forward towards him. His shaky voice doesn’t help the almost itch she has to scoop him up. Maternal instinct, maybe? Perhaps it wasn’t as dead as she thought.

“That’s me, kiddo. I’m-” And now her voice was growing shaky, tight. Instead, Niviora could only hold her arms up weakly -- was she allowed to ask a hug of the son she hadn’t seen most of his life? Yet she wants to. “I’m your mom.”

Faranth help her, but she didn’t think a noise could sound so simply pure as Sioryl’s laugh. Soft, hesitant with Sauzath’s teasing judgment. She could explain that her dragon loved to be fickle and tease, that he was her son and that simply made him the cream of the crop --

Niviora was able to brace herself as he launched himself at her, staggering back a step to catch her balance. Her arms wrapped around the boy in instinct, and as she stared down at his (once nicely arranged, now firelizard-and-wind-ruffled) hair, it just helped make everything click into place. His laughter, his joy was palpable, and Niviora squeezed him tight, placing a kiss on top of his head. Her eyes squeezed shut, tight, as the saltwater in the air threatened them into watering. Honest.

“Yeah, it’s me. And it’s you!” A few stray strands of hair are pushed out of her face, resting her chin against the top of Sioryl’s head. Daresay.. The hugs were nice. Oh Faranth help her, she’d missed so much, hadn’t she? ’You had no way of knowing, nor any say in how things could have changed. You take too much blame onto yourself.’ Sauzath’s private thoughts leak in, and with a free hand, Niv scrubbed at her eyes. “Newly minted senior weyrling. Give a few months, we’ll be full riders.”

She loosened her grip as he did, though there was a brief flicker to not quite let her son go. Not yet, anyhow. Perhaps it would have been a dream, if she allowed him to stray too far just yet. It wouldn’t have been the first time, at least. Niviora smiled down at him, and it was almost a surprise at how easy, how free it was. The memory was still there; of the small, bubbling babe in her arms, remembering such deep feelings of anger, hurt, pain -- and yet looking at Sioryl, there was nothing but happiness and the nibbling of guilt. “Hey,” She mirrors, quiet delight simmering at the top of it all.

“My son.” The chuckle that shakes out of her is almost disbelieving, testing a word out she hasn’t used in so many turns. “A candidate, huh?”