 |
Time seemed to slow down- not stretching into a singularly long moment, as the flight had felt, but instead twisting into many, many frustrating days of endless, growing anticipation. Mictecath’s attentions were split between her duties, her friends and the hatching sands. On more than one occasion, the lean golden queen visited to tidy; Iweth was subjected to her eagle-eyed judgements- not a single speck of sand could go unturned, not a single scrap of eggshell left abandoned. Mictecath was exacting.
It had taken Iweth a little time to mentally come to terms with the full implications of his being chosen by Mictecath. Never was he anything less than overjoyed, but perhaps twelve hours after the fact that a decidedly serious bent had begun to parallel that joy. He lingered near Mictecath, mentally when he could not be there physically, and when she invited him to join her in inspecting the sands, his rapturous delight had quickly become intent focus—whatever she wanted, no matter how tasking, it was his ultimate pleasure to provide. For her, for their eggs to come, for the candidates that would greet them, he would be a most graciously obliging host.
Nyaranau was glad for Iweth’s company- mostly as he helped distract her dragon from her own bulging body. Listening to her beloved’s speculations brought a fond smile to her face during the tedium of paperwork; Nyara found herself scribbling down guesses and bets, keeping her own ledger of her friends’ thoughts on the upcoming clutch. Theo was a good sort, and his company kept them entertained in their free time.
Theo, of course, was his own bundle of nerves. He’d turned up some hours after the ‘excitement’ of the flight had worn off from the Weyr, stammering but in plain awe, and become something of a fixture around Nyaranau, as much as she would allow, thanks to Iweth’s keen want to be on hand to help out. From the start Iweth was the voice of the pair, more outwardly enthusiastic, though it wouldn’t be long until Nyara would start finding sketches of both dragons curled around differently sized batches of eggs left neatly stacked near the other noted bets and guessed. His anxiousness turned in time to excitement, and then it was like watching a late-budding flower bloom—he simply erupted into eager enthusiasm, chattering away with the rest of them as they mused over what was to come.
It was a day much like any other. Gilded in Rukbat’s dying light, the sands were awash in familiar crimsons and golds, stealing most of Mictecath’s attention. A shiver coursed through her, excitement, anticipation, and the first spark of something more, something a little bit… magical. Nyara, Iweth, Theo… let’s meet our new family. She swept from her ledge with a distinct lack of dancerly grace. If Deep Ones had wings and lived in weyrs, Mictecath would have fit right in.
Nyaranau set aside the sandwich she'd been working on since the midday meal. Excitement made the air deliciously tingly, and a grin stretched from ear to ear as she dashed to the grounds in her dragon's wake. The golden queen was there already, carefully digging out the perfect wallow in the sand. She hummed a tune so old and familiar that Nyara, elbows resting on the stands as she took a seat at the edge, hummed along.
Each night I'll sing a song to you… She thrummmed, overjoyed as she beheld the first of many shells. So soft, in that moment, so perfect. And your papa has so many stories to share. Family. They were going to be such a wonderful, wholesome family together.
Night wrapped the Weyr in a tender embrace, and Mictecath lay gently amongst her eggs, basking in euphoria. Nyara floated between the shells, joining her precious dragon's side as she admired her efforts. Incredible, Mic. You've done so well. Soft, loving hands found those familiar headknobs, comforting and stroking.
Iweth, our family… What more was there to say? He could write pages of their adventures, she would sing their daily glories; their family was finally here.
|
 |
Reply
